A Shared Obsession

by Satina

Rated: A

Pairing: Sc/K, M/Sc, M/Sc/K

Disclaimer: Sigh...no they aren't mine, at least legally, anyway. Chris Carter thought 'em up so he gets to deprive them of love and life as much as tickles his twisted fancy. I'm just using them without permission to rid my brain of some demented fantasies.

Spoilers: TONS up till One Son. This story takes up after that. This is a SPOILER-FEST...a regular SPOIL-O-RAMA, so if that freaks you out, run now. And by the way, Krycek still has both arms in my world, obviously, even though we're talking early seventh season. Maybe they *almost* cut it off, maybe it just didn't happen. Whatever. Hey, I'm contriving like crazy just to get these three together. I'm not trying to write CC's vision for these characters. I give you smut, he gives you canon. I give you Krycek with two arms, he cuts one off. Who do you love? Dammit, he's gonna need that arm!

Summary: After a somewhat shocking encounter between Scully and Krycek, events (and this author) conspire to finally get Mulder, Scully, and Krycek on the same side and in the same bed.

Warning: This story contains what is essentially (though not completely) nonconsensual sexual activity between Krycek and Scully, at least at first. It also contains slash in the way of male/male sexual interaction. If any of that stuff creeps you out, stop reading now.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 1

He watched her sleep. She looked even tinier than usual, curled up on her side and snuggled deep into the thick white comforter. A physical pain clenched at his heart at her situational vulnerability. Dressed in her severe pantsuits with her hair tamed into submission, her stature and even her femaleness became very easy to forget. Truth be told, he'd never met a stronger woman and he spent most of their brief encounters marvelling in awe of her quiet power as she sought to keep a rein on Mulder's adolescent physical grandstanding.

Where Mulder wore his emotions (and his excitement?) on his face whenever he came in contact with Krycek, Scully remained the rational FBI agent, and in fact, had even saved Krycek's life when Mulder had totally lost control and tried to shoot him once. Of course, Krycek had no illusions about the fact that Scully had been protecting Mulder from a double murder charge, but just the same, her rigid control even under the most stressful situations was a sight he never got used to, and it had caused him more than one moment of divided attention when the three of them were thrown together.

Krycek sighed and heard the creak of his leather jacket as he shifted outside her window. It wasn't a physical attraction Krycek felt for Dana Scully. That tight control was not something he found arousing, just fascinating. Not that she was hard on the eyes in any way; on the contrary, her tight little compact frame just begged for large male hands to find its hidden soft places. But her cold, all-business demeanor left no clues to the woman behind the suit, and Krycek could summon little more than vague physical images as fantasy material, not having any clue what it might be like to see Scully lose control. He suspected that the tight rein she kept on her emotions probably kept her from enjoying sex much at all and he felt pity for her. Strength was one thing, but damn. A person had to retain something human in this insane life. He oughta know.

He also was pretty damn sure Mulder had never been cause enough for Scully to let her inhibitions down. He knew that Mulder was passionately in love with his intense female partner, but he also knew that he was too chickenshit to ever let her know it. Poor Scully. What with her hard as steel self control and her criminally sexually insecure partner, she probably wouldn't get laid for another five years or more. Again, Krycek felt pity for the girl. Especially with the temptation she was faced with every working day. Like he said, steel will.

He heard the beat of his own heart for a few more moments as he waited to make sure she was deeply asleep before pushing off from the wall outside and making his way to her front door. Scully's windows had been gifted with some of the strongest security money, the Bureau, and Mulder's three stooges could buy, but the locks on her front door, although similarly state-of-the-art, were just locks and Krycek fished out his little device and set to work.

He felt the last lock give and released a breath he'd been holding too long as he felt a drop of perspiration tickle the tip of his nose. He laid his ear against the door, listening for any indication that his fumblings had been heard, but could discern no sound behind the wood.

He stood, the sound of his leather jacket's creaking the only sound in the dead of the hall outside her apartment. Silently, slowly, he turned the knob of the door on her apartment and pushed it open, stepping inside with the quiet grace of a large cat. Spinning slightly on the heel of his boot, he pressed the door closed behind him with a quiet *snick*.

He knew the file he had been sent to retrieve was in her bedroom, laying on her nightstand where she had dropped it and her glasses after sifting through it for more than two hours. He had watched her chew her little bottom lip and push the strands of errant hair from her face as she made little notes and highlighted important pieces of information. She had arranged the documents from the file around her small form neatly, her crossed legs and pony-tailed hair making her look like an overly serious child doing homework.

But Krycek knew that the mind dissecting that file was one of the sharpest on this planet, and his hands clenched with the need to get that information away from it. But he had waited until she finally became exhausted by the intense scrutiny and gathered the papers together, placing them back into the manilla envelope. She set the file on the nightstand, then dropped her little wire frame glasses on top of it. He watched her pad off to the bathroom to take care of her nightly bedtime rituals, and his attention had been torn between the glimpses of her satin-clad form scrubbing the remains of her makeup from her face and the coveted file illuminated in the moonlight coming through the very window outside which he stood.

He made his way slowly across the apartment to Scully's bedroom. The door was open and he could see the small lump that was Scully's body under the coverlet. He watched it for a few seconds, assuring himself that she was indeed asleep. Satisfied, he held his breath and crept into her room, his eyes on the folder.

He glanced at the bed and saw just a streak of cinnamon where the top of Scully's head peeked out from beneath the thick covers. His attention turned back to the nightstand and his hand reached out to remove the glasses from the file. That's when he heard the soft ratcheting click of a gun being cocked.

"Step away from the file, Krycek, hands in the air." Scully's voice was anything but sleepy as she carefully raised herself up in the bed, keeping her gun trained on the dark form just inches from her bed.

<Fuck.> Krycek's air rushed out of his nose in a frustrated sigh and he let his eyes close for just an instant and turned, raising his hands to chest level. He should have waited longer. He was so fucked. "Hey, Scully."

"Up against the wall." Scully's voice was low and commanding, in direct contrast to her topknot pony tail and skyblue satin pajamas.

As Krycek grudgingly obeyed, he contemplated how he could physically overpower her when she came up behind him to frisk him and he began to look forward to it, a small smirk turning up one corner of his mouth.

That is, if she didn't call Mulder first. Damn. That could make things very messy very fast. His eyes darted side to side as he listened for the sound of Scully dialing the phone. The sound didn't come. Instead, he released a small sigh of relief as he felt the hard barrel of Scully's weapon push roughly into his ribs.

"Put your hands on the wall and spread your legs, Krycek." He did as he was told, chewing the side of his cheek with a bored sigh, waiting for his moment. "Feet farther back," Scully said, backing away to give him room. Krycek stepped his spread feet back further, and then further still at another barked command, until he was resting precariously off-balance on his toes, supporting his weight with his arms and pectoral muscles. Dammit. That was going to make it very hard to get any kind of drop on her. She knew what she was doing, alright. He felt Scully's little hand begin patting him down and he let out a frustrated sigh as she very quickly found the gun he had stashed in his pocket, as well as the knife in the sheath at his waist.

Wordlessly, she released the clip from his weapon and tossed it behind her onto the bed along with the blade. Digging her own weapon into his back harder, she quickly squatted and felt down his outer and inner thighs, prying up the bottoms of his jeans to run her fingers around the inside of the top of both boots. Finding another knife tucked in the left one, he heard her small snort of satisfaction as she straightened up, holding the small blade in her free hand for a moment before throwing it behind her onto the bed with the other finds.

"Turn around." Krycek pushed off the wall, regaining his balance and turned around, a look of bored compliance on his face. The sight he met made him feel less than masculine, but he reminded himself that despite the fresh-scrubbed, pony-tailed, five foot two, satin-clad appearance of the small woman in front of him, she was as deadly as a cottonmouth snake and probably faster. Definitely more pissed.

Still, he couldn't stop his eyes from making the trip from her pink toes peeking out from under the blue pajamas, up her torso, across a chest heaving from nerves and anger, taking in the deep V of her pajama top, which exposed a slight swell of breast in its slightly askew state. His gaze travelled over her slightly sweaty face and he fought the urge to reach forward and brush away the tendrils of hair sticking to the sides of her cheeks as she pursed her lips and fought to remain in control of her breathing. Ah Scully. Always fighting for that control.

"Now what?" It was Scully who spoke, poking him in the abdomen with the barrel of her weapon. Krycek shrugged, only slightly distracted by the slight swaying of her breasts under the slippery fabric of the pajama top. She was so close he could smell her now, the scent of lotion and freshly scrubbed woman and he found himself breathing a little more deeply in an attempt to experience more of it.

Scully's lips remained pursed as she considered her next course of action and Krycek considered her body. Finally she stepped back from him, keeping her gun leveled at his gut. "Don't try anything, Krycek. I have no problem with putting a hole in your stomach." Krycek knew the truth of her words and did nothing as he watched her back sideways across the room. Only as he realized her destination did the muscles in his chest and arms tense in anticipation.

Her cell phone was clearly visible on the dresser behind her and her hand was already reaching back toward it, her eyes never leaving Krycek's face. He waited, not daring to breathe as she made her way to the dresser. He saw his chance as she turned her eyes away from him for an instant, looking for the phone as her hands patted the top of the dresser in back of her.

Krycek covered the distance between them in a heartbeat, bringing his arms up under hers, knocking her gun hand up and to the side. She cried out but didn't release her weapon and he grabbed her wrist and squeezed the small bones viciously until she finally dropped it. He grabbed her other wrist at the same time and wrestled her arms down to her sides. His breath left him as her knee came up and caught him square in the groin. He bent over with the pain but retained his grip on her wrists, leaning his face away from her attempts to drive her knee into it. He worked her arms behind her back and yanked her up against him, holding her wrists together with one hand, using the proximity of their bodies to protect himself from any more kicking or headbutting.

He grabbed the phone from the dresser and dropped it to the floor, where he casually smashed it under the heel of his boot. He saw Scully's eyes close in frustration and anger as she saw the destruction of her lifeline to Mulder. The action seemed to ignite a new desperation in her as she squirmed against him, causing herself obvious pain in her efforts to free her arms from his steel grip.

Despite the hot aching throb in his crotch, he enjoyed the feeling of her small body sliding against his for a few moments. He looked down into her sweaty, red face, wrapping his other arm around her tightly, slightly lifting her off the ground. God she was light. She felt absolutely breakable.

"Easy, Scully. I don't want to break your arms. I will if I have to, but I really don't want it to come to that." He gazed down into her face, not bothering to hide the smile making its way across his face. He felt her go completely still in his arms and his smile faded. He could feel her body tensing and coiling, seeking out a point of weakness or a moment of inattention where she could make her bid for freedom. She refused to look at his face, staring straight at the black cotton of his T-shirt which was pressed against her nose.

He felt the heat of her breath against his chest and his nipples tingled and hardened slightly. For a moment, he imagined her small perfect teeth sinking painfully into one of them and hoped she didn't pick up on the image with some sort of psychic awareness. But then that was Mulder's area, wasn't it? He shifted under her face a little uneasily and put a tiny bit of space between their bodies.

"Where do you keep your cuffs?"

Scully's answering snort made him roll his eyes in frustration. "Dammit, Scully. I'd really rather do this without hurting you. Now where are the fucking cuffs?" He wrenched her wrists upward behind her painfully and her answering gasp of pain both pleased and disturbed him. She still didn't speak. He reached his free hand up into her hair and pulled, raising her face up to look at him. He stared down into her sparking blue eyes and watched as a trickle of perspiration made its way down her sternum and between the swell of crushed breasts. He was fascinated and thrilled by the way she stared him down, even as he held her body almost entirely at his mercy. He didn't see fear in those eyes. He saw pure rage. He'd never seen this kind of passion in her before and it started putting all kinds of nonproductive thoughts in his head. He stared back, feeling his chest swell against hers, feeling her heart beat against his own.

He wasn't aware of having made a decision to do it, but the next awareness he had was of his mouth descending on hers with a ferociousness he'd barely known before. He didn't wait for her acquiescence as his jaw worked against her, forcing her mouth open, admitting the entry of his stabbing tongue. He felt his teeth clash with hers as he pushed his tongue deeply into her mouth, aware of a hunger and need to possess and claim her in a way he was positive Mulder never had. He was dimly aware of her struggling against him and trying to keep her mouth closed against his onslaught, but his strength far outmatched her and he plundered her mouth almost effortlessly, pressing her into the kiss with the hand tangled in her hair.

They were standing with the dresser at their side and he wanted to let go of her wrists to put his hands on her body but didn't dare give her the opportunity. Never removing his mouth from hers, he pushed forward, backing her up against the wall tightly. He finally let go of her wrists to immediately drop one hand to work it between her and the wall to cup her ass roughly. He worked his other hand out from under her head, now secured between his face and the wall, to press it between them, caressing her breast firmly.

He was shocked at the small moan that filled his mouth even as small hands pushed vainly at his chest. He felt her nipple harden under his rough ministrations. Surprised, he raised his mouth off hers, gasping for air as he pulled himself tightly up against her, now rock-hard. He panted into her face even as she breathed hard up into his, still pressing hard with her palms against his chest.

"Scully..." Krycek frowned and blinked, trying to clear his head. Scully's head dipped and she wriggled her hips, trying to get free from where she was trapped, his leg between hers and hers between his. Krycek groaned as her struggling pressed her lower abdomen hard against his erection and he squeezed her ass, grinding her against him, ignoring her attempts to escape. He didn't miss the small gasp that escaped her lips as he drove his thigh against her crotch, feeling the denim of his jeans slipping against the satin of her pajama bottoms. The fabric was so thin that other than the slipping sensation, it felt like there was nothing at all between his jeans and her flesh. He could feel the gentle swelling softness of her shape against him as well as the heat emanating from her body against his.

"Oh Scully..." He dropped his mouth to her throat and bit her gently, feeling his body losing control fast. He felt her go limp beneath him for an instant and he licked his bite mark and then fastened his mouth against the column of her throat and sucked, a low moan making his lips vibrate against her.

The hand on her ass now slipped up and over the soft waistband of her pajama bottoms and he vaguely wondered why he had wasted time with it on the outside as it slid effortlessly down into the loose waistband and encountered bare soft flesh. No panties. He grunted and squeezed the plaint flesh hard and felt her jerk beneath him. He felt an answering small moan tingle where her lips were pressed to his chest. His other hand was now snaking its way up beneath her top, and his entire body jolted slightly as his hands encountered hot soft bare breast. "God, Scully!" Krycek cried, dizzy with the feeling of naked flesh beneath both hands and the sensation of slippery soft sex pressed against his hip and thigh. It felt like she was naked beneath him and he felt altogether overdressed for the occasion.

But regardless of the reluctant sounds of pleasure he had been able to elicit from his victim, he wasn't stupid enough to think that if he simply stepped back and took off his clothes that she would wait for him to finish then take him into her arms and let him lay her on the bed and fuck her senseless. No, he was well aware that, while he would not exactly have to rape her, that if he gave her a real opportunity to escape she would take it, and use his vulnerability against him to bring him down. He groaned in frustration as his body screamed to be buried inside hers.

He'd have to take her up against the wall. There was just no helping that. Ah well.

The hand underneath her top twisted and pressed down between them to his jeans, which he unbuttoned and unzipped, then pressed down first one side then the other, just enough to free his straining flesh from their confines. He wasn't wearing underwear. He rarely did. The moment he felt his hot flesh come in contact with the satin of her pajama bottoms, he groaned loudly and pressed hard into her, noticing for the first time that her hands, rather than being pressed against his chest in an effort to push him away were now clawing at his sides, suspiciously effective at pulling his shirt up so she could reach bare flesh.

He shuddered at the feeling of her fingernails scratching up his sides and back, thrilled that the assault was only slightly painful, rather than the blood-letting experience she could have given him. He continued to press her against the wall, now using one hand to push down her pajama bottoms and brush them down her legs to the floor, while the other lifted her by her ass, getting her into a high enough position for him to fuck her. He noticed her legs clasping at his, as she almost helped him raise her to his hips, gripping him with strong hard thighs, shimmying up his body.

"God damn it!" They were the first words he'd heard her utter since he'd kissed her and they made him pause just a second in his efforts to position himself between her thighs.

"Are you pissed because I'm fucking you or pissed because I'm not?" Krycek said hotly in her ear. He manipulated himself with his hand, finally pressing between her thighs and finding her dripping wet. "Yeah thought so. You are just full of surprises, Agent Scully." He bit her earlobe and slid himself against her, groaning at the feeling of his cock stroking through her slick lips. He fastened his mouth where her throat met her collarbone, holding himself back from the inevitable.

"Fuck you Krycek!" Scully snarled even as she moved her hips in an effort to get him inside her, grabbing his ass with both hands and moving his hips into position.

"Mmm yeah...OK..." Krycek tilted his pelvis, holding Scully up by the hips against the wall and finally, finally, felt the head of his cock slip into wet silky heat. He growled against the side of her neck as he pressed harder and harder into her too- tight opening, knowing he must be hurting her but unable to do anything but press himself deeper. He was quite sure no one had been here for a very long time. The pressure was almost painful even for him, and he could only imagine what it was like for her.

He was aware that the mouth next to him was emitting an open- mouthed groan and the pure heat of it sent a jolt straight to his cock buried deep inside her. He moved his mouth to cover hers and cut it off before he lost it too quickly.

This time the mouth he took was taking him back, the small velvety tongue thrusting against his, sucking his own tongue deep into her throat while she made a constant broken humming sound and dug her nails into his ass.

Struggling to breathe through the kiss he felt himself sink into her up to the balls and let the full weight of his body drive him as deeply as possible, his hands pulling her hips roughly against him as he felt himself nudge against the mouth of her womb. His thighs shook as they held her up against the wall where he needed her. God it was good. He knew this was going to be over soon.

He shuddered as he felt Scully tilt her hips against him, spurning him on to movement. He finally obliged her, pulling out a couple of inches, afraid that if he pulled out any more she might slide down the wall, then plunging back in, driving her against it hard.

"Sorry..." he muttered against her mouth as he heard her head thud against the wall.

"Shut up Kyrcek." She said back to him, moving her hips in time to his shallow thrusting.

He grunted, surprised yet again, and began thrusting in a more rhythmic motion, banging her against the wall with every inward push. He kept his upper body pressed against hers, holding her high against the wall as his hands supported her under her upper thighs. The small choking gasps he heard coming from her only served to make him push in harder, deeper and faster. He was overwhelmed by the thought that he was making Scully, the Goddess of self-control, lose it up against her own bedroom wall with his cock deep inside her. He felt like a God.

He wanted to see his Goddess melt and shudder and come for him before he lost control himself. But he would have to hurry, because he was so close. So damn close. He let her body slip just the slightest bit so that he was sliding into her at a slightly downward angle, the upper surface of his cock now pulling hard against her clit with every movement. He cried out at the change in sensation and heard her moans turn into high- pitched whimpers and knew the position was working for her as well.

Her hands were scraping up and down his back under his shirt and then gripping his hips as he made a slight swiveling motion with his hips, turning her whimpers into gasping cries. He felt the heat building at the base of his spine as his balls pulled in tight against his body and he knew that if she didn't come in the next two seconds he was going to beat her to it and blow everything. He could feel her riding the very edge, her body trembling with its need for release, but she wouldn't let go. He'd only guessed at how strong her self control was. Now he was seeing it being used to thwart his plans and it was pissing him off.

"Just fucking come, Scully!" He gasped into her ear and felt her body buck violently against him as she obeyed, animal cries of pleasure roaring from her throat. He felt her clench and shudder around him, her body thrashing against him and the wall as she rode her orgasm to its long, drawn-out finish.

Krycek felt his own loss of control at the second clench of her internal muscles around him and rammed himself hard inside her, feeling himself empty into her over and over. The pressure of his hips now held her hard against the wall as he ground his climax out against her writhing, shuddering body. He gasped at the sheer force of it as what felt like his very soul was drawn deeply into her grasping, throbbing body.

As he came back to full awareness, he felt her sweaty, spent limbs clinging to his, her thighs now shaking in their efforts to stay wrapped around his. Sighing, he pulled out of her and gently lowered her trembling body to the floor, still supporting her slightly, his hands on her shoulders as he felt her struggle to gain purchase on shaking legs. He lowered his face to kiss her but she dipped her head low, avoiding him. He bit the inside of his lip and closed his eyes, then opened them. So we're back to this now. Scully back in control.

He let her go just long enough to pull up his jeans and tuck himself into them, using his body to keep her bracketed against the wall, although she didn't appear to have the strength or will to fight him any longer. She merely leaned against the wall, smoothing her top down over her soaked, naked sex.

Krycek zipped and buttoned his jeans and ran a hand through his hair, then leaned forward with his arms on either side of Scully. She didn't look up at him, instead preferring to study the toes of his boots, hugging herself. "Listen, Scully...I, I didn't come here for this, but it was..." Krycek started, totally at a loss as to what to say now that this had happened. "It was incredible, Scully. You're incredible." He wished she would look at him so he could try to discern what she was thinking, but he was only graced with a view of the top of her head.

He sighed deeply and turned his head, catching sight of her weapon on the floor a few feet away. Turning his eyes back to her, he stepped back and to the side, quickly scooping the gun off the floor and reluctantly levelling it at her still trembling form against the wall. "I don't want to hurt you, Scully. I never did. I...I just have to get that file." Now it was Krycek's turn to look at the floor for a moment, then back up as Scully's head finally raised up to meet his gaze.

"Take it." Scully's blue eyes were unreadable and her voice was calm. Krycek swallowed and backed slowly around the side of the bed, keeping the gun trained on her the whole time. She made no move to do anything, hugging herself and attempting to hide her nakedness with the bottom tails of her pajama top.

He carefully reached to the side and moved her glasses gently off the file and then picked it up and slid it into the waistband of his jeans. He leaned over and retrieved his own weapon from Scully's bed, dropping it into his pocket and then scooping up the clip and putting it in his other pocket. He then emptied the clip of Scully's weapon and placed that in his pocket as well before placing her gun on the nightstand. He zipped his jacket up to keep the file safe and started to walk across the room to the door. He stopped a few feet in front of it.

"Listen, Scully...I..." He bit his lip, unable to figure out how to make sense of what just happened between them. What did just happen? How had he allowed things to get so out of control? When did he decide Scully was his own sexual plaything and that tonight was the night he was going to take her out and play? He wasn't sure how he felt about Scully now, only that his original impressions of her as a cold, dispassionate woman had been blown away in a scorching firestorm tonight.

Krycek shook his head, unable to unravel all the intertwining thoughts and emotions swirling in his brain. One thing was for sure. Once she had told Mulder, his life was as good as over. Mulder's homicidal tendencies toward him had always been mostly for show before, but he knew the next time he met up with Mulder, he'd better have made peace with his maker. Mulder would be pissed about this in so many ways that Krycek couldn't begin to count them.

"Just get out. You got what you came for." Scully's voice was quiet and she stared at the bedspread, not making eye contact with Krycek.

He sighed and walked out of her bedroom, picking up his pace as he neared her front door. He kept an ear tuned for any sounds behind him as he turned the knob but heard nothing, and sighing once more, stepped through the door and walked into the night.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 2

Scully heard the sound of her apartment door closing softly and let out a heavy sigh. The evidence of Krycek's visit was drooling down her thighs and starting to itch, and she rubbed them together in an effort to rid herself of the tickling sensation. She was still standing against the wall of her bedroom, naked from the waist down, just as Krycek had left her. She would move if she could just figure out what the hell she was supposed to do now.

She had just been well and truly fucked by Alex Krycek. And though it had not been a consensual encounter, she had been shocked to her core to find herself insane with response to this killer's touch. Her eyes closed in guilty remembrance as her own primal moans and, yes, screams reverberated through her mind, along with the way she had sank her nails into that rock-hard ass and yanked him harder and deeper, clutching him with her shaking legs.

Who the fuck was that woman? Was that really Dana Scully?

She sank down to the floor, hugging her knees. She placed her head down on them and felt tears roll down her cheeks. They weren't the tears of a woman who felt she'd been raped, and they weren't the tears of a woman who had just said good-bye to a lover. Dana Scully wasn't sure what she was crying about, only that crying seemed to be the only action her body was ready to take at this time.

Her mind prodded her, reminding her that perhaps she wasn't so totally unacquainted with the lusty woman who had climbed Krycek like a tree tonight. It kept distracting her from her indignant confusion with images of a young, fourteen-year-old Dana Scully, lying about her age and dating dangerous older guys behind her parents' back in an effort to compensate for the patriarchy of both her father and her older brothers, as well as the scornful assumptions by her peers that a "brain like Dana" wouldn't have any interest in real fun. She had been the straight-A student with cigarettes and miniskirts tucked into her bookbag, leaving her after-school study sessions to neck with leather-clad bad boys under the bleachers. Her family didn't have a clue. Most people didn't.

Was her life now any different? She bore a permanent inking on the small of her back attesting to the fact that she had not lost her taste for dangerous men and coloring outside the lines, but her peers, her colleagues, her family and even her partner could only see the bookish nerd buttoned up in her dark suit.

What had happened to Dana? Had she given her up when she had kicked her smoking habit, right after her college graduation, in preparation to enter medical school? No. Though she had not smoked a single cigarette since then, during med school she had had a few wild weekends and school holidays, including one unforgettable road trip that had made her sick with fear of an unwanted pregnancy for weeks after. And in between the grueling demands of her training, she was still able to fit in a few illicit affairs, including that one with her married instructor that had ended rather badly.

Was it that, combined with walking into the unmistakable boy's club of the Federal Bureau of Investigation that had made her think she had to squelch her spirit and put a permanent stop to her wild sexuality?

What a fucking double-edged sword women walk on a daily basis. Wanting the men they work with to be able to get past their hormones and see them as colleagues long enough to get some work done, while also wanting to retain that which makes them feel sexy, female and free. On top of that, being cruelly ridiculed when they found it impossible to live successfully in both worlds and opted for the respect rather than the infatuation of their male coworkers.

Ice-queen. That was certainly not what the wife of the professor she'd fucked had called her. Which was worse...ice queen or whore? Lucky little Dana Scully had gotten the opportunity to be called both. They both pretty much sucked.

During the first two years with the Bureau, she had flitted from romance to romance, flinging aside her boxy, boring suits at the end of the day and trading them for tight little lowcut sweaters and short skirts, a cold beer and a hot stud at night. She had even had a doomed fling with her first partner at the Bureau, against her own better judgement. Sometimes it was just so hard to be good.

Then she made that long walk up to the main office to accept her new assignment working with Spooky Mulder.

The minute she'd rolled away from the man in her bed at 11:21pm to answer the phone call from Mulder after their first case together, she realized that working on the X-files was to be owned by them. "Tomorrow," she had said, trying to keep her work and personal lives from colliding. But she had hung up the phone and spent a sleepless night, staring into the darkness and wondering if the world would ever be predictable again. And when her lover had reached for her during the night, she had brushed him away with all of the attention she would have given a buzzing insect.

John had stopped calling when she'd had to turn him down twice because she was working on something important with Mulder, and aside from a few stale dates set up by well-meaning friends and family, she hadn't had a relationship (or even a fuck, except for Ed Jerse) since. Well...there was that writer that she had come very close to falling into the sack with. Naturally she would choose to sow her oats with a psychotic or two.

What really pissed her off was that in her most honest moments, she admitted to herself that being owned by the X-files also meant being owned by Fox Mulder. He was simply too strong a personality, with too strong a passion, and too single-minded an obsession to do anything but follow breathlessly. And he kept her too busy (and too caught up in keeping his respect and admiration...face it, Dana) to have any fun at all outside of the X-files.

The thing was, despite all the horror she had invited into her life when she had made that first decision to stay after the liver-eating mutant thing, she loved working the X-files. She loved walking the edge of the unknown...confronting the darkness...straddling the knife's blade. Why the hell else does a girl join the Violent Crimes division of the FBI? She lived for the excitement, the incredible revelations and even the mortal danger.

But dammit! When had dangerous, sexy, fun Dana completely disappeared and like some psychedelic mushroom's feast been absorbed into the asexual, fact-obsessed, tightly-buttoned thing called Scully?

Wiping her nose on her satin sleeve, she put her hands on the carpet to push up off the floor and stand up. When Krycek had closed the door behind him, she had fully intended on calling Mulder as soon as she could get to her phone. Now she pushed the sweaty tendrils of hair off her cheeks and made her way to the bathroom to draw herself a bath. Of course, she would have to tell him that Krycek had taken the file, but how much more she would reveal to her partner about the events of this night she had not yet decided. Maybe after a long soak and a half-bottle of white wine she'd have a clearer perspective. Better yet, bourbon. Fuck it.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

She lay back in the bubbles, already working on her second highball glass of bourbon on the rocks and feeling very warm and relaxed all over.

Alex Krycek. Alex fucking Krycek. It took Alex fucking Krycek to pry Dana loose from her prison inside the terminally-tight- assed Scully and make her scream like a celluloid whore.

Studying her toes peeking up through the bubbles at the end of the tub, she tried to figure out just what had precipitated this unforseen case of spontaneous human combustion.

<You only *thought* my involvement with Ed Jerse was an X-file, Mulder. Wonder what you'd say about me getting my brains fucked out by your mortal enemy, Alex Krycek?>

When she had first met Alex Krycek, she had seen him as mostly an interloper, poking his nose where it didn't belong, namely in Fox Mulder's life. She sized up his cherubic good looks and fawning behavior around her partner and pegged him as a popular pretty boy who had charmed his way up the ladder and probably couldn't find his ass (no matter how tight and yummy it was) with two hands. She had always assumed that if a guy was too good-looking there was no way he had developed either his intellect or his higher interests, since a cute face and bod meant those things just weren't that necessary in life.

Truthfully, she'd been damn shocked to see that the brilliant Spooky Mulder had also been a classic case of sex on legs. After reading all about his amazing work she had thought she would be greeted with some skinny, pasty-faced social malcontent with a maniacal gleam in his eye. Mulder was not pasty-faced. His skin actually had a rather attractive golden glow to it. The rest? Ah well. Nobody's perfect.

She snorted unlady-like, remembering how pissed she'd felt, knowing that if they were to work together she would not be able to count this particular piece of mancandy among her conquests. She had already made the mistake of fucking her partner once before, and she had told herself that if she were to make the difference she knew she could at the FBI, she would have to keep her hormones in check from now on.

She had definitely been a little more bitchy than was absolutely necessary to secure his respect in those early days together, but it just wasn't fair, dammit, to have that luscious length of manmeat dangled in front of her every day and not expect her to take a swipe at it. She would have been *really* put out if she had realized that her association with Mulder would also mean that she wouldn't be getting *any* from anybody for a really long time. That bit of knowledge had snuck up on her, silent as a wraith, as her social life dwindled away to nothing.

Her life's events had also fallen into the weirder and weirder, until the point in time where even if she had found someone to hang out with on a regular basis, she would never have known where to start to explain what she did on a day to day basis. "Sorry I didn't make it to the restaurant, honey. I was chasing after a guy who regenerated parts of his body by eating tumors. How about next Tuesday, instead?"

Sometimes she felt like she lived in a universe only parallel to the rest of the world...just her and Mulder, walking alongside ordinary people but never really living *with* them.

Tonight, she had felt like a part of the world again. Of course, this world carried with it the tang of gun oil, the feel of leather against flesh, the smell of cigarette smoke, and thighs so sore she knew it was going to be a bitch to walk tomorrow. Not to mention an arm that was most definitely sprained from having been yanked up behind her.

Is there no fucking happy medium?

She tapped the bottom of her upturned glass with the fingers of the hand on her uninjured arm, knocking the cubes of ice against her lips in an attempt to suck the last drops from the bottom. Frowning, she reached down to the floor beside her and poured a third glass of bourbon and leaned back into the cooling suds, cradling her sore arm.

Okay. Back to Alex Krycek. After he had disappeared and been revealed as one of the men behind her abduction, she had come to see Krycek as a piece of a big nasty puzzle, without much thought to how he played his part as an individual.

Then of course there was that time she had had to stop Mulder from killing him. She wondered what Krycek thought about that. Did he think she had given a shit about his life that night? She hadn't. She'd only known that Mulder was so jacked-up on whatever had been slipped into his water system that he was about to destroy his life with a double murder charge. Krycek was still just one shadow among many to her, albeit a much darker one if Mulder's suspicions about his involvement in his father's death and later her sister's, were correct.

Her sister's death. Now she knew what it was to carry the kind of guilt Mulder carried, knowing your involvement in something had led to the loss of someone precious to you. She had eventually found out that a man named Luis Cardinale had pulled the trigger, but Mulder was sure Krycek was involved as well. Scully usually needed proof before she made a declaration like that, but she also knew how uncanny her partner's instincts could be. She wouldn't bet against him.

Following her freaky experience on Ruskin Dam, she had not known what to think about Krycek. She had known she wanted to smack Mulder upside the head repeatedly when he'd started brushing off her surfacing belief in the fact she'd been taken by aliens, not the government. Good God. Start actually agreeing with the man and he looks at you like you're a damned crackpot! Sometimes she just wanted to kick him in the nuts like she had the little boys on the base when they'd gotten too cocky with a pigtailed, freckle-faced little snip of a girl named Dana. She used to spend a good deal of time kissing those little boys, too. Especially when she'd been in her pre-teens when kissing became more fun than kicking. Now it seemed she was back to getting to kick ass instead of getting any. But anywho.

She had been so relieved when Krycek with his cryptic note and his curious kiss (yeah, Mulder had told her about that part of it, too) had finally succeeded in putting her bird-dog back on its trail. But as to Krycek's motives in risking his life to do this, she could only guess and shake her head in wonder, once again running to keep up with her partner as his faith and his passion for the truth was rekindled by this shape-shifting shadowman.

And fuck was he pretty. Scully slurped up the last of her third glass of bourbon and placed the glass haphazardly on the floor beside the tub with a clank. Pretty and deadly, powerful and cunning, strong and sexy...all the stuff Mulder was but without the hands-off restrictions and Mulder's apparent lack of attraction to her.

She didn't blame Mulder for that, really. She wouldn't be attracted to the dry, cold person she had become either. If he only knew. But she couldn't let him know. She thought that if she revealed that side of herself to Mulder, he would be unable to see past it to the scientist and equal partner beneath. So he didn't know about the Dana Scully that vibrated herself to bliss with his body on her mind more nights than she cared to think about. He didn't know about the Dana Scully who could give an hour-long blowjob and use medical techniques to keep a man hard for hours before inducing multiple orgasms. The Dana Scully who went braless whenever she wasn't at work, and wore these sexy little French hose with built-in garters and no panties to work all the time.

Krycek had met that Dana tonight. He had caught her with her panties down, so to speak, and he didn't seem to have a problem with finding a way to express his physical attraction to her. In fact, now that she thought about it through the bleary haze of three glasses of bourbon and an hour and half of being submerged in bubbles, she realized that Alex Krycek, with his angel face, long dark lashes, omnipresent black leather and a voice that sounded like a perpetual groan of pleasure, was pretty much a walking fucktoy.

Her brows knitted in a frown as she realized that Alex Krycek would also probably screw just about anything that caught his fancy, and that in his haste to put a dent in her bedroom wall with her ass, he had not used a condom. She reached between her legs and gently...very gently...fingered herself, washing away the remaining traces of his presence, feeling the stinging and bruising in her long-dormant tissues even through the layers of bourbon and exhaustion.

She'd definitely have to get tested as soon as possible. What a pain in the ass. Now she was pissed.

She dragged herself up out of the cold water and wrapped her body in a towel. Carefully stepping out of the tub on rubber legs, she very slowly made her way to her bed and collapsed across it sideways.

She slept for ten hours.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 3

Mulder's hands shook as he shoved the key roughly into Scully's lock. He tried to breathe down the sick feeling in his gut, afraid that his own nightmarish suspicions would somehow manifest themselves as reality even if nothing had been wrong before.

He had only been somewhat anxious when Scully hadn't shown up for work on time that morning. Yes she was habitually punctual, but both of them had been known to get called into meetings and such at the last minute, making them late for work or appointments. He had shrugged it off and gone upstairs to confer with the lab techs over some evidence he had dropped off with them the previous day. He didn't really think about Scully again until he returned to the office two hours later and found it empty. No Scully, no evidence that she had come and gone. No coat hung neatly on the hook, no smell of her perfume that always lingered for hours after she left. He could feel his heart in his throat as he reached for the phone. Ring...ring...ring...come on Scully. Pick up. Damn. The machine. He dialed her cell number and got her voicemail. That was when his breathing started to become a chore and he snatched his jacket off the back of his chair and hurried to his car.

As he drove, white knuckles gripping the wheel, he started to realize that due to the previous day's discovery, he really should have become alarmed at her absence sooner. He ground his teeth against the brick of guilt that formed in his gut, pushing it down and mortaring it in solid with the wall of China he was building in his psyche.

They had just come into possession of a mysterious packet of information which he had left in her possession. They were cryptic medical files that he could make no sense of, which had been left wrapped in his morning newspaper by someone who obviously felt they were worth some extra attention.

This being Scully's field of expertise, she had scooped up the file and spent the better part of a day sifting through its contents. Mulder had bugged her with questions about its meaning, but she had only pushed those sexy little glasses up her nose and said she couldn't really discern anything conclusive at this point and needed more time to analyze it before drawing any conclusions. It had made Mulder crazy, but he had tried to give her the space she'd needed, hoping for a debriefing soon. She had taken it home with her yesterday evening and Mulder had not heard from her since, except for a short phone call during which he got the same distracted brush off from his obviously fascinated and data-immersed partner.

And now she was not at work. And not answering her home phone. And not answering her cell.

"Scully?" Mulder had knocked at her door and called her name a few times already, but upon entering her foyer, he called out again with a childish wishful optimism that if he acted like she was home that she would be.

Only the tinny sound of a radio greeted him.

Odd. Scully had a very nice stereo and her tastes ran to classical CD's, not staticky rock and roll. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up at the wrongness of it all. He unfastened the snap over his weapon and brushed his suitcoat back behind the holster, making it readily accessible. Eyes darting around in the bright light of late morning, he made his way through the living room. As he had suspected, the stereo was not on.

The sound was getting louder and he determined that it was coming from her bedroom. His heart sped up and he felt his shoulders tense in anticipation of any number of horrible scenes he might encounter. Visions of a certain hair and nail fetishist made the sweat pop out on his forehead and he crept into the hallway, wary and tense.

His gasp was audible as he encountered her body splayed facedown across the bed, naked except for a towel wrapped loosely around her body. It was her clock radio that was blaring out the grating oldies tunes.

"Scully!" He rushed to the bed, instantly putting his fingers to her carotid artery, thrilled to feel the pulse thrumming under his fingertips there. God, she's not dead. She's not dead. Thank God.

"Scully...Scully it's me, Mulder...Scully can you hear me?"

He kneeled on the floor at the side of the bed, his face about a foot away from hers, scanning it for signs of consciousness. His fingers reached out to touch her pale cheeks as he attempted to rouse her. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he saw her eyelids flutter and heard her raspy groan.

"Mmmm?" Scully's eye opened a slit and a frown creased her brow.

Mulder bent closer, bringing himself within a few inches of her face. "Hey Scully. Are you all right? Are you hurt?" His fingers were still resting lightly on her cheek.

Scully licked her dry, cracked lips and blinked slowly. "Mulder. What...what are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you." Mulder assessed the room for signs of a struggle and caught sight of Scully's crushed cellphone by her dresser. He rose from her side to get a better look at it. When he turned around holding the broken remains in his hand, he nearly dropped them at the sight that greeted him.

Scully had pulled herself up into a kneeling position on the bed and was rubbing her eyes with the finger and thumb of one hand, the other cradled in her lap. Right on top of the towel that had slid down to her waist.

Mulder's mouth gaped open as he stared at her perfectly rounded, high, full breasts with their beckoning peachy-pink nipples. They jiggled just slightly as they were jostled by the motion of her arm rubbing her eyes. He felt an almost painful jolt of sensation go straight to his cock and felt his whole body twitch. He stood there, his hand stupidly extending the smashed piece of communicative equipment toward her, his body drawing loud, open- mouthed breaths. Then he shook his head and spun around to face the dresser. The mirrored dresser. An intense throb caught his breath and he pivoted again, this time coming to rest facing the doorway of her bedroom and finally free of the sight of those luscious little curves displayed so boldly on the bed behind him.

"Um sorry...Uh...I didn't know..." Mulder swallowed painfully and listened for the sound of Scully's shocked indignation. It didn't come. She must really be out of it. Worry battled with lust for prominence in his swirling brain and hyper-adrenalized body.

Scully lowered her hand from her pounding head and dragged it down a still partially numb face and over her throat, letting fingers brush over her bare breasts on their way back down to her lap. She dropped her head forward on her chest, stretching the aching tendons at the back of her neck, and realized she was naked from the waist up. And Mulder had just seen her. Without raising her head, she looked up under her lashes at him and saw he had his back to her now, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, fiddling with the remains of her cellular phone. Her eyebrows rose, which intensified the pain in her eyes and head just marginally, and she reached down for the towel and pulled it back up over her breasts loosely. She stared at the ramrod tense back of her partner for another minute before speaking. She decided to just pretend that hadn't happened. God knows they had experience with that, and it wasn't as if he hadn't seen her naked before. He had never brought up either the kiss in the hall or finding her naked encased in a frozen aliensicle box, and she was sure he would never make mention of this little slip of the towel. The man so damned predictably repressive.

"Mulder...what time is it?"

Mulder sighed with relief, hearing something of his Scully returning to the maddeningly naked, dazed woman on the bed behind him.

"It's after eleven now, Scully." Unable to resist, he turned his head just a bit to the side to see if she was decent, and seeing that her towel was in place, turned around to face her. He had meant to sound like the professional investigator he was, but ended up sounding a bit like Maggie Scully herself. "What happened here?" Taking in the way she was babying her arm, as well as her obvious headache, he asked for the third time, more emphatically, "Are you okay?"

Scully looked around the room and considered his question through the haze of her oppressive hangover. The lines of an oldies song insanely started rasping through her tortured brain.

Woke up this morning, my head was so bad It was the worst hangover that I'd ever had It wasn't the wine I'd had me too much of It was the (beat) double shot of my baby's love

She shut her eyes for a moment, willing the accusing words to fade out. No damn luck. "Yeah, Mulder. I'm fine." Saying nothing more, she watched with trepidation as a look of incredulity and anxiety gathered like a storm in her partner's eyes. She knew he *hated* it when she told him she was *fine,* but that was her way of saying, ' Just leave me alone, Mulder. If I need your help I'll ask for it.' He waited a moment for an explanation but she could not think of anything else she was ready to say yet.

"Scully...it's after eleven and instead of being at the office, you're passed out naked on your bed next to a smashed cellphone. And it looks like you may have an injured arm, and it's obvious you're dealing with some kind of head pain." Mulder tried to keep his voice gentle. Maybe she didn't yet realize what trauma she had experienced. He didn't want to shock or frighten her, but this damn *fine* shit was really not cutting it. He pursed his lips with impatience as he waited for Scully to fill in the gaps that were putting his mind into overdrive.

Scully swallowed audibly, painfully. She wasn't ready yet to stand trial under the intense scrutiny of that gaze. She needed some time to clear her mind and think.

"I have to pee," she said, awkwardly holding up the towel with the one arm that didn't feel as if it had been run over by a government issue vehicle, clutching the other tight against her side. She unfolded cramped legs and extended them over the side of the bed.

Mulder's frown increased as he witnessed her obvious physical distress, then his eyebrows shot up as the towel split open at the bottom for a moment during Scully's clumsy effort to extricate herself from the bed. Despite his attempts not to look at that region of her body, Mulder caught the unmistakable sight of dark rust colored hair peeking out from between alabaster thighs. Whatever questions or concerns he had been about to voice were choked off as his throat closed and he blinked rapidly, his eyes darting everywhere but toward her, trying not to let her see that he had seen.

Oblivious to the peep show she had just provided her partner, Dana Scully slowly made her way to her bathroom, half-heartedly clutching her towel around her aching body, each step sending jolts through shaky thighs and creating streaks of pain between her legs.

Scully's sigh as she leaned against the bathroom door, closing it behind her, was only as loud as that of her partner at finally having her naked, traumatized body out of his sight.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Fuck. Now what? Scully leaned against the door and breathed, fighting back a wave of nausea as she tried to decide what to do next.

Throwing up seemed like a good option. She let the towel drop to the floor as she staggered toward the toilet and fell to her knees, suddenly retching violently and loudly. One thing about it, she had never been able to throw up quietly. Not that she gave a shit at this particular time as she loudly heaved up the microwave popcorn she had eaten while poring over the damnable file last night, as well as a few scant ounces of fluid and what felt like her lungs.

Feeling a bit better aside from the new ache in her diaphragm and ribs, she sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Fucking bourbon. Why the hell hadn't she drank her customary 24 oz. of water afterward? Oh yeah. She'd just been...raped? Not exactly. Fucked? Well yeah, but...okay let's just say assaulted...by Krycek and then had spent the rest of the wee hours of the morning sulking about her otherwise sex-free life in a huge tub of dwindling suds. Replenishing her cells' H2O balance had not exactly been topmost on her mind.

Her doctor's intellect knew that the combination of the 18 oz. or so of high octane alcoholic beverage, along with an extended period of time in the bath and several hours of sleep had left her body completely dehydrated. Fortunately she also knew from both training and experience that if she could just restore some of her body's water balance that at least some of the pain which was assailing her from what felt like every goddamn direction would subside.

She saw the glass she had managed, remarkably, to set upright at the side of the tub following her little bender, and she reached out and snagged it with her uninjured hand. Struggling to her feet, fighting the cramping in her thighs and cursing the twinges of pain in her groin area, she turned on the tap and let it run till the water was nice and cold. She drained the glass four times before deciding that her tender stomach was distended about as far as she wanted to chance. Just having the fluid in her body made her feel a bit more alert and the cotton seemed to clear a bit from her mind. Running her tongue around her mouth she peered into the mirror.

The topknot ponytail she had carefully created before crawling into bed the night before was hanging, just barely still constrained by its band, on the side of her head. She pulled the elastic from the mass of tangled hair, wincing. Jesus, even her follicles hurt. Her skin was a yellowish tinge, which really didn't go well with red hair, and her lips were cracked and swollen. Yeah, she was looking like a real sex kitten now.

Her mouth tasted like acid and bile, and her teeth felt like they had been sprayed with fake christmas snow. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and felt the tender ache of bruising, and winced a bit as her investigations turned up a small laceration on the inside. She probed the rest of her tender mouth with her tongue and decided it would probably be a really good idea to get re-acquainted with her tube of Crest.

She carefully brushed her teeth and rinsed twice with mouthwash, finding it difficult to expell the flavor of bile and bourbon. She finally could stand the taste in her own mouth after the second harsh stinging mouthful of Scope. She also felt sweaty, grimy and dirty, but knew that she had spent more than an hour in the tub and was in fact very clean, except for maybe her hair. Assessing it under the light of her bathroom mirror, she decided it was a bit wild but passable and that it was not worth the pain and trouble of dealing with her injured arm to try to wash it. She ran a brush through it and sprayed the craziest strands into place in a semblance of control around her face. She was beginning to feel more like herself already.

Dana wasn't sure how she felt about that, really. She wanted to get rid of the pain and nausea, of course, but there was a certain feeling of recklessness and abondon lingering from the night before that she wasn't quite ready to let go of yet. It was stupid, but waking up with a hangover and a body sore from violent sex made her just a bit nostalgic for the good old days. Maybe it was the remains of the bourbon still drifting through her body, but she was feeling uncommonly loose and unconcerned with her usual straight-laced, buttoned down propriety and rigid self-control.

She washed her face and smoothed moisturizer over her parched pores, feeling even more life infuse her skin as it sucked up the sweet-smelling, ridiculously overpriced face cream. She smoothed foundation over the yellow and marveled at how much better she looked with a little help from Elizabeth Arden. Finishing up with eye makeup and a careful but thorough application of deep crimson lipstick, she regarded her newly renovated reflection.

Not bad, really. Kinda sexy. Her eyes seemed lazier than usual...more open and dark and with a bit of a glint she found herself rather happy about. And there was really no way to hide it. Her swollen lips and slightly poufy hair made her look like exactly what she felt like. A woman who had been properly laid.

Properly? Having a double-crossing, murderous triple-agent throw you up against the wall without your consent and fuck you was proper? Scully frowned and swallowed back a bit of returning bile, not feeling totally comfortable with what had happened, but not feeling like "rape" came close to describing what had gone down with any real honesty.

Okay, time for the truth. Peering intensely at her reflection, she contemplated the absurdity of her perfectly made-up face perched above her bruised and aching nude body. She tilted her head to the side and considered the facts.

It was true that Krycek had forced himself on her against her will. It was true that he had been serious enough about restraining her prior to his sexual attack that he had quite definitely sprained and possibly even broken one of her arms. Well, actually, it was her attempts at escape that had actually resulted in the injury. He had not pulled her arms up so high that they had been injured. She had aggravated things considerably in her attempts to get free of his grip. Okay, so it was true that she had done her best to get away prior to his assault on her, even at risk of, and resulting in, injury to her body.

So far so good. Scully could still feel like the innocent victim from the time Krycek grabbed her and smashed her phone, to the point where he pinned her up against the wall.

That was, of course, where things got a little ambiguous. You see, it was also true that Scully had had ample opportunity to do Krycek some pretty serious physical harm, with both her teeth and her nails, as he had commenced driving her insane with lust. However, instead of drawing blood with fang and claw, she had nibbled and sucked and scratched up his deliciously firm, heaving sides with a wanton but relatively pain-free intent. She had to admit to herself that had she truly fought him, she could have ended his sexual conquest of her body and he probably would have just taken the file and left.

It was time to admit it, at least to herself if never to anyone else. Once he had gotten his hands into the waistband of her pajama bottoms, she had wanted nothing more than to feel him driving into her, making her forget all about Scully for the first time in a long time, and causing daring Dana to scream out with pleasure and abandon.

In fact, since she was laying it all on the line here, she may as well admit also that she had been pissed about the whole thing only when he had left her still trembling body against the wall to get the file and leave. Of course, she did remember that smoky voice telling her that it was incredible. That *she* was incredible. She flushed a little at the memory. But when he had turned his attention from her body to her bedside table to get that damn file, she had instantly felt overcome with shame and shock and indignance, and it had quickly coalesced into a cold fury. She had snapped at him to leave, instead of curling up with him on the couch in front of a video and ordering pizza, which was her usual favorite activity following good, hot sex.

She chuffed out a single chuckle inspite of herself. Yeah, sure. Alex fucking Krycek snuggled up with Dana Katherine Scully...scratch that...AGENT Dana Scully...on her couch, munching Hawaiian pizza and basking in the flickering images of Mel Gibson and Danny Glover at 2AM in the morning on a warm spring night in Georgetown.

On the fucking twelfth of never that would happen, yeah. She stuck out her tongue. Pulling back from the mirror and seeing her naked reflection once again, she remembered that she had brought no clothes with her into the bathroom.

She started at the tentative knock on the bathroom door.

"Uh...Scully? Is everything okay in there?" Mulder's voice was near by, concerned and hesitant. She imagined him leaning in close against the door and felt a wash of heat at the thought that her naked body was only a few feet away from him. Nobody in here 'cept us sexually frustrated FBI Ice Queens, Foxy.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she said through the door, turning to face it. She thought about wrapping herself back up in the towel and exiting the bathroom to get dressed, then decided on another course of action instead. "I do need you to get something for me, though."

Mulder was immensely relieved to hear Scully's voice almost completely back to normal, and he tried very hard to stop picturing her naked on the other side of the door. "What do you need?" He knew what he needed, but that wasn't really the issue here, was it? He shifted from foot to foot, his erection tenting out the front of his pants annoyingly. Sometimes it sucked being a guy. It really did.

"Could you grab me some clothes, Mulder? Jeans and a T-shirt is fine. You know where they are, right?"

"Uh yeah, I think so." Mulder swallowed hard, realizing that the door he was leaning into was soon going to open so that he could hand clothing to a nude Scully. He made his way over to her dresser and started to open the top drawer, then pulled his hand back as though it were a burning stovetop.

"Scully...should I be careful not to disturb anything? I mean...do we need to dust for prints or anything?" She still hadn't filled him in on what had gone on in her room and he didn't want to mess up any evidence.

"No, Mulder. We don't need prints. I know who it was. Just get me the clothes and I'll tell you what happened."

Mulder frowned, completely frustrated and overwhelmed with curiosity and concern as well as a healthy (or not, depending on how you looked at it) helping of rampant lust. He reached tense fingers toward the handle on her top drawer. He stopped and called out a second question, feeling himself blush for the third time that day.

"Uh...Scully?"

"What is it Mulder?"

Damn. He really didn't want to ask this question, but he really didn't want to just nonchalantly hand Scully a pair of her panties through the door either. The alternative was giving her jeans and no underwear, and even if she could handle that, he knew *he* would not be able to concentrate for at least a week if he saw her come out of the bathroom knowing she had no underwear on under her jeans. He swallowed hard.

"Do you have...uh...underclothes in there?"

Silence. He could almost hear Scully's eyebrow go up behind the door.

"No, Mulder, I do not. I don't need a bra, but my panties are in the top right hand drawer of the dresser. Thanks."

Scully was enjoying the small thrill it gave her to say the word "panties" in front of Mulder and for him to know that she was not going to be wearing a bra. This was even more fun that parading around in front of him in nothing but a towel. She couldn't wait till she had the pleasure of removing her little silky undies from his outstretched fingers through a modest crack in the door. Maybe Mulder wasn't naturally attracted to her, but she was feeling dangerously reckless today and decided to stack the deck just a bit. She'd had a startling glimpse of the old Dana and she was feeling none-too-ready to shove her back down in the dark closet in favor of being so-proper Scully instead. She kinda liked the spunky little gal, if you will pardon the tasteless pun.

Mulder's fingers were twitching just a bit as he reached into a small sea of shiny pastels and used a delicate pincer-grip to bring out a pair of little pink panties. He imagined pressing them to his generously-sized olfactory organ in bliss, but in an exercise of incredible self-control instead folded them into a pair of jeans, and pulled a blue T- shirt out of the dresser a few drawers down. Folding everything tightly so that the underwear was completely obscured, he made his way back to the bathroom door and knocked.

He chewed his bottom lip as he watched the door open a crack and Scully's slender little arm reached out. He placed the small pile of clothes on her hand and stepped back, watching them withdraw into the bathroom. He sighed another huge sigh of relief, having gotten through the perils of Scully-panties with little more than a now-painful erection and sweaty palms to show for it. He tried to think about earless brain-sucking fast-food employees and readjusted himself subtly with his hands.

A few minutes later, Scully emerged from the bathroom, still walking carefully and cradling one arm, but, Mulder noticed, looking a sight more colorful and together.

He did not fail to notice the swaying of her braless breasts under her snug little blue T-shirt, and he was oddly disturbed by her messy hair, though he couldn't quite say why. He groaned inwardly, silently, cursing himself for being a weak and hormonal male shithead. How could he possibly be distracted by his lust like this when Scully had obviously suffered some sort of an attack on her person the previous night? He tried hard to concentrate on his anxiety and nervous stomach instead of the persisting stiffy that he was trying desperately to hide just a few inches lower. Thank GOD for loose suit pants. They really do hide a multitude of sins if you know just how to arrange your hips.

Scully looked her partner over quickly from head to toe and did not miss the evidence of her little tease game's effects on his body. She restrained the smug smile that threatened to play across her features and tried to keep her mind on the fact that she was going to have to tell Mulder what happened here, at least to a certain extent. First thing she knew she had to do was get him out of her bedroom. She was having a *very* hard time sitting on daring Dana in here and she needed the cool rationality of Agent Scully.

She made her way past him wordlessly, heading for the living room. She heard him follow behind her and could practically feel his eyes on her back (or was that her ass?), the curiosity and questions thick in the air.

Settling herself gingerly into the corner of her sofa, she watched him perch his tense, lanky (and still quite obviously aroused) body on the edge of one of her chairs. She took a deep breath and spoke.

"The file's gone, Mulder. He took it."

The look in Mulder's eyes changed from curiosity to anger and the concern in his expression ratcheted up a notch. "Who? Scully, who took it? What do you remember?"

Scully licked her battered bottom lip. She did not want Mulder to go off and strangle Krycek, but she knew enough about herself to know that, even if she really needed to, she totally sucked at lying and would be found out immediately, especially by a man as insightful as her partner, if she tried to fabricate a story involving some strange intruder. Maybe if she told some of the story, her own knowledge that it was partly true would help her not to belie her falsehoods. She inhaled, and his name was the exhalation.

"Krycek."

Mulder jumped up out of his chair. "That ratfuck bastard! Scully...he did this to you? I'll fucking kill him!" Mulder was advancing on her now, as if he wanted to take out part of his rage at Krycek on her, and she found herself shrinking back against the back of the couch, preparing her pretty lie.

"Mulder, please...I'm fine. He surprised me after a bath and we struggled, and I think he drugged me and took the file." She stared down at her twisting hands, willing him to believe with all of her heart.

"Drugged you? With what? Did he hurt you?" Scully knew she never wanted to be the target of the focused rage that was brewing in those intense hazel eyes.

"We...we struggled briefly and I hurt my arm. He grabbed me, I felt a prick, then there was just darkness." Oh *great* choice of words, there, Dana. Her eyes burned with the effort of holding back insane laughter at her inadvertent Freudian slip. She watched the muscles in Mulder's jaw clench and unclench as he considered this bit of news.

"We need to get you checked out, Scully. I'll take you over to D.C. General." His voice was deep with just-restrained intensity. "If you don't mind, I'll call your mother to give you a ride home."

Scully didn't have to ask where Mulder was going. She just nodded mutely. "I'll call her." Great. Now Mulder was going to go out and get himself maimed or killed chasing down her assailant. "Mulder...just remember...he could have killed me, but he didn't. Don't do anything stupid."

"I'll be fine." Mulder had gone into caveman mode, it was obvious to Scully, and anything she said to him now would be met with only grunts and one-syllable patronization. She quietly rose from the couch, trying not to favor her sore arm in any obvious way, and gathered up her coat and purse.

Mulder said nothing as he fell into step behind her, leading her out to his car and helping her get seated. He nearly choked, narrowing his eyes with a barely suppressed rage when he caught site of the obvious bite-marks on the side of her neck. Fucking ratbastard prick. Scully probably didn't even realize yet that Krycek had taken advantage of her after he drugged her. He imagined Kyrcek's windpipe collapsing under his thumbs and felt the heat of his own breath burning its way out of his nostrils. He didn't want to be the one to bring the sexual assault to her attention. She would find out soon enough, during the exam at the hospital. And anyway, Mulder was in no condition to be soft and soothing as he helped her deal with her trauma. He had his own job to do. The nails cut the flesh of his palms as his hands tightened into fists. Rounding the car, he struggled to remain in control long enough to get Scully to hospital so that he throw away his FBI career and murder Krycek.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter Four

Alex Krycek paced from one end of the short, smelly motel room to the other yet again. He lowered himself onto one of the slippery vinyl chairs, then before he could register the feeling of the sparse padding under his ass cheeks, bounced up and resumed pacing.

Why the fuck were they making him stay around here? He gave them the file and after what had happened during its retrieval, he felt as vulnerable as a wounded squirrel in an intersection.

He could practically hear Mulder on the prowl for his ass. He knew that every second he stayed in the greater D.C. area, he came closer to never waking up to feel broken bedsprings digging into his lower back again. Mulder *would* find out. And when Mulder did find out, Mulder *would* find him. He was certain of it.

What the *fuck* had he been thinking, poaching on the Fox's territory like that? He of all people knew that Mulder's obsession with Scully went deeper than friendship, deeper than love, and deeper than lust...that polluting the perfect Scully with his rank physical need was tantamount to raping a part of Mulder's psyche, as far as Mulder was concerned. A sin unforgivable, and probably one Mulder was willing to chuck his career to avenge.

Krycek should be thousands of miles away, buried seventeen stories underground, so he would have a chance of slipping off the Spooky psycho radar, at least for a period of time long enough for some of his rage to subside. Where's an abandoned silo when you need one?

Instead, he'd been ordered to remain in the area until his employers were sure that all traces of their cohorts' activities, which had been documented in that damned file, were obliterated. Of course they had no idea he'd just done the stupidest thing in his not-exactly-stellar existence and would very soon be paying for it with his life.

So here he sat. Like a rat in a cage. With one very pissed off psychologist just itching to try some live vivisection on his ass. He hadn't slept since he'd left Scully's apartment at 3:00 A.M. that morning. He wouldn't sleep until he was well clear of Mulder's happy hunting grounds. His hands clenched and unclenched as he willed his cell phone to ring with the 'all clear' phone call.

Nothing but the sound of blood pounding in his ears.

He couldn't stand one more minute in this musty, ugly little room. He'd spotted a biker bar up the road a piece and decided he'd wait for the call there.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Mulder's gut burned with the effort of putting on a calm, reassuring face as he walked Scully into the emergency room and handed her over to the doctors there. He wanted to leave before she came back out of the exam, totally unable to face her once she knew the truth about her assault. He called her mother to come and pick her up and he walked back out to his car, willing himself not to throw up in the parking lot.

The sick fuckhead had drugged her and...and...what? Mulder couldn't even let his mind fill in the blanks. All he could see were the vivid purple and red marks on her neck, and the small, perfectly even white teeth that he knew had made them. He jaw began to ache with the stress of his constantly clenching it, but he was unable to stop and simply accepted the pain as part of his preparations.

Think. Think. No, not about that. Think about who would have put that file in your newspaper.

He made his way back across town to his apartment building and asked his neighbors if anyone had seen a stranger in the hallway early the previous morning.

The responses he got were less than friendly and one of his neighbors replied to him with a raised eyebrow painfully evocative of the one on his partner and said, "You've got to be kidding. If the fucking president and Saddam Houssein played hopscotch outside your door I'd call it a slow day."

Mulder thanked her for her time and moved on, not missing any of the people in his building, no matter how hostile or avoidant they appeared.

He struck paydirt with the little old lady at the end of the hall. She was still new enough in the building not to have been jaded by all the freaky goings on wrought by her spooky neighbor, and had not yet grown tired of peeking out when she heard creaks in the hall at odd hours.

She was able to give a very nice description of a man Mulder had received information from on one or two occasions, and from there it was a matter of a drive across town before Mulder caught the guy and cornered him in his building hallway.

"Listen. I don't know your name and I don't care. I know you gave me the medical file and I know you risked your ass to do it. I'm not trying to get you in trouble, but I need to know one thing. A man has recently come back into possession of that file, and I need to know where that man is."

The young man for a moment looked like he was going to play stupid and act like he didn't know what this intense Fibbie was talking about, but at the last minute he decided that anything he told this guy other than exactly what he was asking for would probably just earn him an exhausting amount of physical and mental torture. He said only two words, but judging from the calm, satisfied glint that came into the hazel eyes burning into his, they were the right ones. Thank God.

"Sundowner Motel."

"Thanks." Without another word, Mulder spun away from the man in a swirl of trenchcoat and sped away from the curb, tires screeching.

"Man I *never* want that guy looking for me that way," muttered the informant, unaware that he even said the words aloud and very glad that for now, he was on Fox Mulder's good side. He scanned the area left and right before darting to the stairs and up to his apartment, where he started shoving things into bags and boxes, preparing to acquire a new address.

The clerk at the Sundowner had been more than accomodating when a tall, thin man with dark hair and a hard glint in his eyes had flashed a badge and a photo, and Mulder was trying to steady his breathing as he silently climbed the stairs, tightly grasping the keys to room number 14. He crept to the window, attempting to see inside, but the heavy drapes were drawn and he could not make out anything inside. He stood with his back to the wall, gun raised and held with both hands at chest level, straining to make out the faintest noises from within. He heard nothing.

His fingers trembling with the need to close around a certain dusky throat, he quietly slipped the key into the lock and slowly turned the knob.

When his arm was not yanked forward with the force of someone opening the door, he steeled himself a moment then with a focused kick sent it snapping backward. He quickly stepped in, catching the backswinging door with his foot and stood in the doorway of the room, legs spread, gun held with both hands, ready to commit murder.

The room was empty.

He took four deep breaths in and out, then stepped into the room, swinging his gun from left to right, nudging the door closed behind him with his foot. Still no one greeted him.

He searched the small room and bathroom and found a black leather bag containing some toiletry items and a spare change of clothes. Evidence enough that Krycek would return.

He made himself comfortable behind the half-closed bathroom door and began to wait.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Krycek was downing his third shot of tequila when the high screech of his cellphone made his hand jerk and a few drops of the precious golden liquid sloshed over it.

Damn he was jumpy. This was just not like him. He jerked the phone out of his jacket pocket and brought it to his ear, sucking the tequila from his fingers.

"Yeah."

"The sanitation is complete."

Krycek punched the 'end' button and sighed heavily. Finally he could start to put some serious distance between himself and his most-certainly-accelerated doom. He knocked back the third shot and threw a twenty on the bar. He was feeling generous and didn't wait for the change, but walked out of the bar with a step considerably lighter than that which had bore him in.

He was scanning flight schedules and compiling necessary phone numbers in his mind as he closed the door of his motel room behind him. He even had a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth as a dark gray shape came careening toward him out of nowhere and threw him hard up against his motel room wall.

Mulder didn't even bother with his usual litany of insults as his fist rocketed back and forward, repeatedly connecting with Krycek's nose and jaw, one blow barely connecting before another was rained down, giving Krycek just time enough to wonder if he would get to say anything before he became unconscious. He supposed not. But he had to try.

"Mulder! Wait!" A fist sank into his gut and all the air he'd been trying to form into words was forced out in a ragged whoosh. As he struggled to gain enough breath to speak, he looked into Mulder's face and was honestly scared by the insanity he saw there. The man actually had spittle foaming out from between clenched teeth and was making intermittent growling sounds as his fists connected with Krycek's face and gut. Krycek tried to reach into the waistband of his jeans for his gun but Mulder yanked it out and threw it across the room and returned to pounding his hands into as much flesh as he could reach, holding Krycek up against the wall with his fist full of cotton T-shirt.

Finally Krycek recovered enough from the shock of seeing his arch enemy so out of control that he was able to bring his knee up into Mulder's groin then wrap it around behind his leg and throw him off balance. In the second it took Mulder to regain his footing, Krycek grabbed for his swinging fist and made another attempt to speak.

"I didn't hurt her! I wouldn't! I didn't..."

Mulder's face contorted with the effort of training his growls into intelligible verbal discourse.

"You...broke...her...fucking...arm!" He roared in Krycek's face and Krycek felt the warm spittle spray across his eyelids as Mulder's fingers closed around his throat. Mulder's body was now pressed full-length against him, making it impossible to do anything except writhe fruitlessly under the violent onslaught. He clawed at the hands cutting off his already labored breathing, and tried to bring Mulder back to himself long enough to at least let him know that he had not intended to hurt Scully. Before he died, Mulder, and Scully, had to know that. Krycek wasn't sure why he felt that way, he was only sure that for now, his one and only goal was to live long enough to make that clear.

"Muh...dah....plzzz..." Krycek saw black explosions begin to swim into his visual field and felt his hands and arms growing weak. He focused his eyes on Mulder's and willed him with all his might to give him a chance to explain before ending his life.

Mulder's eyes blazed with an empty, murderous rage as he continued to throttle the tender flesh in his hands, then he blinked and his lips closed over clenched teeth and Krycek felt the hands at his throat start to slack.

He coughed and sucked at the bit of available air, swallowing it into his bruised and throbbing windpipe, struggling to keep his knees from going out. Mulder's hands remained wrapped around his neck, but he was able to recover his breath, and once he had enough to form words, he tried again.

"I swear." He breathed and felt the other man's body heaving beneath him. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I didn't know she was hurt." He swallowed, weakened by the razor-sharp intensity of the eyes boring into him. "Please. Mulder. All I ask is that you hear me out." His hands were clasped over Mulder's now but he was no longer pulling at the other man's grip, knowing his instinct to survive was not going to win out over Mulder's uncharacteristic berserker rage. He hoped that his surrender would provoke a show of mercy in his assailant.

Mulder's nostrils flared as he watched the man before him swim back out of semi-consciousness and begin to beg. The blind red rage that had been directing him for the last half hour started to recede, leaving only a hot hatred and burning need to hear more. Deciding that Krycek wasn't going to die without telling him the whole story, he stepped back and threw Krycek up against the wall again, and for the first time since Kyrcek had entered the room, pulled his gun from his hip holster and trained it on the trembling man.

"Talk," he spat, wiping the saliva off his lips with the back of his hand.

Krycek breathed a few more times and straighted his black leather jacket squarely on his shoulders. He wiped the blood from beneath his nose, raked his own hand back through his hair, then cleared his throat painfully and spoke.

"I went there to get the file. She was supposed to be asleep. I thought she was. She woke up and pulled her gun on me. I swear to God I didn't mean to hurt her. We were struggling, and...I just..." Krycek couldn't meet the other man's eyes as he uttered the words that he knew would surely spell his end. "I looked into her eyes, Mulder. There was such passion there. Such intense feeling....rage...hatred....heat." Krycek took a deep breath once more, wondering if it would be his last. "I just lost control. I had to have her."

He saw the change in Mulder's face at those words. Saw the way they seemed to become black as night and he swore the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees as he felt the intense scrutiny of that gaze sear straight through to his soul.

"So you raped her." Mulder growled the words out, barely intelligible through grinding teeth.

"No!" Krycek's voice was firmer now. "I didn't, Mulder. I swear...not really."

"Not really?" Mulder screamed, striding forward and placing the barrel of the gun against Krycek's forehead. "Just how the fuck do you 'not really' rape a woman, Krycek? And how does that woman end up with a broken arm? I've had some wild sex in my time but nothing that had my partner ending up in the fucking emergency room!"

Krycek actually felt sick at the thought of one of those pale little arms that had been scratching up his sides being broken during their sexual frenzy. He tried to remember when it might have happened and figured it was before he had made his move on her, when she was struggling against him after he'd destroyed the cellphone.

Scully, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

"Mulder...I know you have no reason to believe this, but I didn't know she was hurt. We struggled and I had her arms behind her back. I was just trying to keep her from calling you." He saw Mulder's face twitch, but summoned his courage to continue. "I smashed the cell phone and she kneed me in the groin." Mulder's eyes calmed just slightly at that admission of Scully's small triumph. "I had her hands up behind her back and I guess in her struggles," he gulped, "she injured her arm. I had no idea, Mulder. It didn't happen during the...." He swallowed again, feeling the moisture leave his mouth. "...during the sex."

The fire leapt back into Mulder's eyes and Krycek fully expected to know oblivion in the next second. But he was shocked when Mulder pulled the gun back a couple of inches. He was even more shocked when he saw the tears begin to silently stream down over Mulder's face. "But she was drugged...and you did rape her." Mulder's voice was hoarse and flat.

Krycek breathed, wondering exactly what explanation of the night's events would buy him the longest remaining lifespan. He decided that if he could make Mulder believe the truth, that Scully had willingly and enthusiastically participated, that he might have a chance of walking away from this. Or at least waking up from a nice coma.

"I didn't drug her, Mulder. And it wasn't rape." Krycek kept his eyes down, unable to endure the flayed-to-the-soul look in those eyes. "She didn't instigate it, that's true. But Mulder..." he stopped, listening to Mulder's ragged breaths. "She did willfully and passionately participate. She could have hurt me or stopped me, but she didn't. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I need to tell you anyway. I need you to know. It was sex, not rape. And Mulder...I made sure she enjoyed it." Krycek looked up through his lashes as he said that, praying that Mulder's concern for his partner would outweigh his feelings of ownership and that he would be able to at least feel a little relieved that Scully had not experienced a violent, unwanted sexual assault on her body.

The broken sob which escaped Mulder's lips actually caused Krycek to gasp aloud.

"Nnno...that can't be true." Mulder whispered it in a way that led Krycek to believe that indeed, Mulder had been convinced it was. Then Mulder shocked Krycek even more when he lowered the gun and staggered backward, finally falling into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "You took her. She was mine. *MINE* Goddammit and you took her!" Mulder's voice was rising again, but his hands were at his sides, his finger no longer on the gun's trigger. He wasn't even looking at Krycek, instead staring into his lap, the tears making tiny splotches on the fabric of his pants.

Krycek studied the shattered form before him with narrowed eyes, not quite ready to believe that he wasn't going to be eating a bullet very soon.

Why the fuck was Mulder being so vulnerable before him? Was the guy really that gone over knowing that someone else had fucked his partner? Jesus Christ, that man had it worse than even Krycek had imagined.

He found himself actually wanting to offer comfort to the man who had come in here with his one and only goal to kill him. He rubbed at the hard, raw ache in his throat and blinked to clear away any residual dizziness. Then he tilted his head to try to catch Mulder's eye.

"Mulder?" He said it quietly, gently. No response. "Mulder." This time it wasn't a question and Krycek's voice was firmer. He saw the other man take in a deep breath but the face remained downturned and the eyes closed. Krycek sighed. He should be taking this opportunty to grab his shit and split. But he felt an insane need to get through to this emotionally eviscerated man with the truth. Mulder's precious truth.

He slowly stepped toward the slumped figure, still cautious and ready for the attack he knew could come at any minute. But Mulder just sat there, eyes closed, tears continuing to fall from beneath the dark lashes. Krycek stepped right in front of Mulder and looked down at the sleek brown hair. He felt a very dangerous urge to put his hand out and stroke it, but held it back, frowning at the very thought of such a tender gesture being bestowed upon his would-be executioner. He sighed heavily.

"God, Mulder. She's a woman. Just a woman." At that, the eyes opened and the head raised. The eyes burned up at him from beneath lowered lids. If looks could kill...Krycek would be a small black cinder scorched into the moss-green shag. "I...I didn't mean it that way, Mulder. Christ, I know she's special. She's...she's fucking incredible, Mulder, I know that. She's the most incredible woman I've ever known! I just meant that you can't keep her on this pedestal any longer. So she fucked somebody. Yeah, I know. She fucked your worst enemy. But that doesn't change what you two have. What you two will always have." Krycek shook himself, cursing inwardly the lilting regret he himself could hear under the gentle words.

He always felt like some little punk looking in on their beautiful world from the outside, never getting to be a part of it. Watching the dance, feeling his feet move, but never being asked to join those on the floor. When he been with Scully, he'd been a part of that beautiful dance, at least with one half of that amazing couple, and it had been more incredible than he would ever have imagined.

For a small, dangerous moment, he let himself wonder what it would be like to be caught between the both of them, pulled into that scorching vortex of emotion and power, a third part to a destined-to-be-completed puzzle. Following a sudden and strong impulse, he lowered himself to one knee in front of Mulder in a totally submissive gesture.

"She loves you, you know. She always has. Christ I could see it the first time you two were in the same room together." Mulder actually seemed to be listening to him, now looking him directly in the eyes, the malice slowly being replaced by a hopeful skepticism.

"She'd do anything for you Mulder." He saw Mulder's flicker of dissappointment and immediately understood it. "I don't just mean she'd back you up, Mulder. Shit I don't have to tell you she'd give her last breath to save you." Krycek actually let the corners of his mouth turn up in a small grin. "I mean if you gave her half a chance, she'd give it *all* to you, anytime you asked her."

He almost didn't recognize the small, wistful voice coming from the usually so cool and confident lips less than a foot in front of him.

"But she didn't give it to me. She gave it to you." Mulder's eyes held only sadness now, and a tired, resigned pain that made Krycek want to reach out and take him into his arms.

"Only because you never asked her for it." Krycek's voice was quiet and he allowed the sadness to seep into his tones, knowing it would ease Mulder's pain. "She only gave it to me because she felt she couldn't give it to you. She didn't want me, Mulder. She wanted you." Krycek's voice ended with a matter of fact note to it that left its veracity pretty much unquestionable. It also left a taste of ashes in his mouth to say it out loud.

"Why? Why does everything have to be so hard?" Mulder appeared to be talking to no one in particular. Krycek felt the intense urge to assuage his suffering.

"You make it hard, tovarich. You don't allow yourself to live. You don't allow people to love you." Krycek felt an old, familiar and disturbing lump form in his battered throat. He shut the door on it with all his will, blocking it with feelings of self-preservation. To do otherwise was to go the way of complete madness. As was to look into those deep, dark brown eyes as they stared at and into him.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" Mulder's voice was distant, confused. "I wanted to kill you. I was going to kill you. I was going to give up everything I have, including Scully, just so I could have the satisfaction of watching your life drain out of your face." The words were said softly, with no emotion, and Krycek strangely felt no offense. It was what he expected; nothing more, nothing less.

"I know." He tentatively raised his hand and laid it, feather light, on the other man's thigh.

Mulder jerked beneath his touch and his gaze went from Krycek's face to his hand. The eyes that raised to meet his again were puzzled, wary.

But, Krycek noticed with some surprise and relief, not angry. He felt himself growing bolder, at the same time having no idea what his head would get it into itself to do or say next.

"Why...?" Mulder's question trailed off.

"Why what, Mulder?" Krycek leaned in, willing Mulder to continue.

"Why are you...you of all people...still here, telling me this?"

Krycek sighed and shook his head as if puzzling over the same question. "I don't know. I know we've been on opposite sides almost as long as we've known each other." Krycek bit back the old pain that threatened whenever he thought of the short time he'd held this man's fragile trust and destroyed it without a second thought.

"But now that everything's changed, now that The Project is in total chaos, and The Consortium members dead or missing, I don't think either one of us really knows who we're working for at any given time." Krycek felt a new fear well up inside him, this one not for his physical safety, but his emotional well-being. He braved it with a courage thusfar only displayed at the point of a cocked gun.

"I've always respected you, Mulder. Always. And I've often thought, that if things were just a little different, that we'd be working on the same team. We both want the same thing." Krycek was the one to look down at the floor now, wondering why he'd decided to bare all before this man. He answered his own question with finality.

"I'm tired of being the only one who knows the truth."

He finally let himself look up into Mulder's face and saw that those deep, fathomless eyes were fixed on his with a look that always meant the wheels were turning a million miles per second. That look always made him breathless and this was no exception. He panted shallowly, waiting for the outcome of this furious thoughtstorm.

Finally, when he felt he could take it no longer, Mulder spoke.

"I...I guess there were times...times when I let myself think the same thing. I guess...maybe that's why I hated you so much. Because I really wanted to trust you." Krycek was awestruck at the amazing courage this man was showing, baring his soul to one who had betrayed and hurt him over and over. He was humbled by it as he had never been by any other experience in his life. He waited, breathing lightly, for Mulder to finish, a part of him swearing that, no matter what the consequences, he would not be a part of hurting this man any longer.

"In Tunguska, when we were working toward the same goal, it felt...right, somehow. Then when you betrayed me..." Mulder's voice held no emotion, but Krycek felt a wave of familiar misery wash through his gut. "I just closed off any feeling at all I had and turned it into self-preserving hate." Krycek nodded. He really did understand. "And then, when you came to me that night at my apartment, and you...kissed me...and gave me back my will to continue, I hated myself for not hating you still." Mulder's voice fell to almost a whisper as he finished, and Krycek felt the smallest flame of something he hadn't felt in a long, long time begin to stir to new life.

"I don't want you to hate me, Mulder. I know I've done...some very wrong things. Things that hurt people I...care about. But please, understand, that I thought I had chosen the right team." It was time to lay it all on the line. This moment was just too precious, too rare and fragile, to hold back anything out of pride or fear of being hurt. Mulder had put his deepest feelings on display, and it was Krycek's turn to go public.

"I know things, Mulder. Things you don't know. Things...you probably don't really want to know. I sometimes wish now that I didn't, so that I could go back to living the kind of life everyone thinks is right and good. But I do know things. And because I do, I know that all bets are off, and morality is completely subjective." He saw Mulder's eyes narrow slightly at that, but he pressed on, determined to at least make Mulder understand, if not agree.

"Yes I've killed. Yes I've lied and stolen and cheated and broken every law, spiritual, moral or legal, that's ever been written. But those laws, Mulder...they exist for a world other than the one I live in. You know some small part of it now. We're all of us on this planet just living on borrowed time now. Things can't go on the way they have, with everyone wrapped up in their comfortable complacency and oblivion, allowed to be moral and upstanding citizens of a world that's about to be knocked on its ass. It's just a matter of time, Mulder, before we either fight back or die. I just started fighting earlier than the rest of them."

Krycek's voice softened to a gentle whisper. "I'm not apologizing for the things that I've done, Mulder. I wouldn't have done them if I hadn't thought I had to. But I'm sorry they hurt you. I will always be sorry for that."

Krycek finally sat back on his heel, leaning away from Mulder now and removing his hand from Mulder's knee reluctantly. He could see Mulder's face fall into a blank concentration as he struggled to absorb, sort through, validate, categorize and maybe...just maybe...accept all of what Krycek had just laid at his feet.

Krycek stood and looked down at Mulder feeling an expression he would never have thought possible softening his features. Things had gotten way out of hand and he was becoming afraid once again.

"I have to go." He turned toward the bathroom to get his already-packed travelling bag, and wondered if he'd hear the snick of a safety being flipped off. He didn't. He retrieved the bag from the bathroom, ran a sweaty hand through damp hair, then made his way across the motel room.

"Mulder...I want you to think about what I've said here tonight. Like I said...all bets are off now, and you and I might be the only ones who can make any kind of difference for the future. If you can get past the choices I've made..." Krycek didn't know how to continue. "Anyways, I'll be in touch." With that he turned and walked out the door quickly, before he said something that got him into real trouble.

He threw his bag into the rental car he'd left in the parking lot and realized he was breathing easier, even through a scratched and bruised windpipe, than he had in a long, long time. Now there was only one more person he needed to talk to before making his way out of town.

He turned the car toward Georgetown, feeling his heart tighten with anxiousness over making only his second apology in about ten years.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 5

Damn it. Where is he? Dana Scully tried to tune in to the intuitive connection she denied she shared with her partner in order to discern his whereabouts and state of being. She wasn't picking up anything, though, and it worried her. Must be the residual alcohol, combined with the Vicadin in her bloodstream. For Mulder's sake, (and maybe Krycek's?) she hoped that Krycek had had the good sense to get far away from Washington D.C. after his visit to her bedroom. Of course if he had, that meant she might not see Mulder for a very long time, because she knew that Mulder wouldn't rest until he'd found him.

Damn it. How did they get here? Scully was at once flattered and frustrated by her partner's chivalry, and she harbored a fair amount of guilt over being the reason her partner was out running around like a comic book superhero trying to avenge her honor.

She snorted. Oh Mulder. If you only knew how honorable I was with Alex Krycek's hard body slamming mine into the plaster of my bedroom wall. I mean, yeah, it sucks that he stepped on my damn phone and gave me a sprained elbow, and it really pissed me off when he took that fascinating file, but it was almost (Okay TOTALLY) worth it for the fuck of the century.

She sighed and rubbed her legs together under the quilt spread over her on the couch.

<Don't hurt him.> Her silent plea went out to both men, and she hoped the Vicadin haze wasn't clouding that psychic line she knew she shared with at least one of them, the more crazed of the two.

Truth be told, she wasn't really afraid of Krycek hurting Mulder, except in self-defense. For some reason, Mulder had never been the target of Krycek's murderous intentions, although Scully knew that years ago she herself had been. She felt a twinge of the old guilt and pain and sent out yet another apology to Missy for her unfair and untimely death.

No. Krycek, for some reason, kept Mulder around and even let Mulder take out his rage and frustration by smacking him around. Scully never did get that. Here's a hard, dark, dangerous killer doing absolutely *nothing* as his nemesis takes swing after swing at his beautiful face and body. Witnessing these interactions, Scully found herself admiring Krycek's strength of will and scorning Mulder's loss of control.

No, she was pretty sure Krycek would not seriously harm Mulder unless he was absolutely forced to. She wasn't as sure about Mulder's sense of compassion when it came to Krycek, though. Something about that man turned her usually rational, cool, and maddeningly unaffected partner into a violent, physical storm of rage. If Mulder suspected sexual assault, he might be pushed right over the edge. Scully just hoped that Krycek was as resourceful about saving his life when confronted with a mad man as he had been up till this point.

She fell into an uneasy sleep on the couch with thoughts of the violent confrontation swimming through her mind.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Alex Krycek sighed at the sense of deja vu as he crept up to the Georgetown apartment window. The blinds were closed this time, so he couldn't see inside. He knew she was in there, though, because he been watching the apartment for the better part of the evening and had seen the flickering of the television. He really had no idea how Scully might react to his showing up at her apartment again. Would she simply shoot him in the head? No, that would make too big of a mess of her impeccable furnishings, and besides, she had threatened him with a gut-shot before, hadn't she? Those were much more lingering and painful. She was a doctor. She oughta know.

He waited until he could sense no movement or sound from behind the blinds, then silently made his way to the door.

He started reaching for the lock-picking tool he had used less than 24 hours ago. Had it only been that long since he'd taken a liberty that had changed the lives of all three of them forever? As his hands closed over the small, delicate electronic device, he had a totally insane impulse.

What would happen if he just knocked?

He nearly laughed out loud at the wildness of the idea. Alex Krycek, showing up on the doorstep of Special Agent Dana Scully, with a sheepish grin and a heartfelt apology for fucking her senseless up against her bedroom wall.

Geez, maybe he oughta bring her some flowers or something.

Krycek shook his head, feeling like he'd just stepped into some sort of parallel universe. He was actually seriously considering bringing flowers to Dana Scully, and he was actually letting himself hope she would accept them.

What the *fuck* are you thinking here, Alex? You are *not* some errant lover trying to schmooze his way out of the doghouse! You are an arch-enemy trying to make amends for losing control with a woman who has been an unescapable and totally bewildering part of your life for six years and who would probably enjoy nothing better than putting a bullet (or three) in your sorry ass...no, wait, stomach. No flowers. Just get in there, say your piece, and get the fuck out of Dodge.

His hands closed back around the device and he set to work once again.

He heard the lock give and froze, but nothing happened, so he slowly, oh so slowly turned the knob, again feeling almost dizzy with deja vu.

The apartment was once again dark, but this time there was a faint blue glow effusing the living room furniture with a ghostly appearance. And this time Dana Scully wasn't tucked deeply into her fluffy white comforter, but was curled up under a quilt on her living room couch. And this time Krycek knew what it felt like to be inside that petite little body and knew the sounds she made as she succumbed to her own dark desires.

He stood there, not breathing, awestruck by the sight before him. The blue glow of the TV imbued her pale skin with an otherworldly light reminiscent to Krycek of the angels portrayed in old-world evangelical paintings. She looked so pure, so good, so childlike and innocent, curled up on her side, her lashes softly fluttering just a bit as she dreamed. It hurt to look at her.

It hurt even more when he noticed the bandaging extending from her wrist all the way up to her shoulder.

Dana. God I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

Krycek didn't realize he'd spoken the words aloud. Scully's eyes fluttered open and fixed on him and her lips parted slightly.

Time stretched out between them as they both stared silently into one another's eyes, neither willing to make the first move.

"I...I didn't realize I'd hurt you." His voice was low, almost too low for Scully to hear. But she heard him and said nothing, glancing down at her arm and back up again. She watched as his eyes swept over her body from toes to head, lingering on the bandages wrapping her right arm. She felt her breathing become shallow and labored, and wondered if she had anything to fear from the dark form looming over her tired and drugged body. From the tone of his voice, she surmised that he wasn't here to hurt her. She didn't say anything, and didn't take her eyes off him as he shifted uneasily from one booted foot to the other.

As her eyes adjusted to the low light and she felt the sleep-fog clear from her medicated mind, she noticed the swellings and small lacerations decorating the darkly intense face in front of her. She watched, fascinated, as a tiny tip of pink tongue flicked out and licked at the cut on the lip below it absently. She felt herself lick her own lips in response and brought her eyes back up to his quickly, wondering if he'd seen the unconscious gesture. The heated gleam that met her glance made her think that indeed, he had.

"Scully...Dana..." She gasped just the tiniest bit at his use of her first name, the intimacy of it somehow more powerful than if he had brushed his thumb across her tingling nipples. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I hate that I hurt you." His voice was so low, so deep. It made her forget how to breathe and she couldn't help but to sigh softly from between parted lips. He was looking down now, and she studied the top of his sleek, silky dark head and felt an intense need to run her fingers through what she knew to be super soft, musky-smelling hair. She took the opportunity to study his body while he was not watching her, letting her gaze travel slowly over his throat (were those bruises and scratches there, as well?), down over the rapid rise and fall of his rigid chest and abdomen encased in a black T-shirt and that madness- inducing black leather, stopping to carefully examine the fly of his black jeans with special interest, then finishing with a loving assessment of strong, flexing thighs poured into tight black denim. And black leather hiking boots. Had the man no mercy?

She cleared her throat. "Krycek. Um...Alex." He looked up at her from beneath lowered lashes at that, and she swallowed hard. "I'm OK, really. What I mean is, I don't blame you for my arm. Hey, we fought, I got hurt. It didn't happen during...." She took a deep breath and snapped her mouth shut, unable to say the words out loud. Still surveying her from beneath those unfairly dark, thick lashes, Scully watched as those soft, talented lips curved into a sly smile. It was almost all she could do not to moan.

"The sex?" Alex's voice was low and teasing, but gentle. Then it became instantly serious again and he raised his head to face her again. The smile turned warm. "I'm glad. I didn't know if it would make you feel like..." It was Krycek's turn to want for words. "Like you had been violated." His words ended on a reluctant, hoarse note and he looked away a moment before meeting her gaze again.

Scully looked down, then peered up from under her own lashes. "I didn't feel that way." She let the words stand a moment, listening to the sound of their breaths filling the room. "But it really did piss me off when you took that file." She smirked, making her expression what she hoped was playful and teasing.

Alex sighed deeply, catching the teasing lilt, but also regretting that he had so obviously been playing on the other team when he'd come to her apartment. "Scully...Dana...you didn't know what you had. I was ordered to retrieve that file, and everything else had to come second."

"Is that why you left?" Scully regretted the words as soon as she had said them. What the fuck? Do you really think it's a good idea to sound so damn needy in front of this man?

Krycek gasped, unable to conceal the surprise he felt at hearing the obvious want in her voice. "I...I never...God, Dana I sure didn't think you'd want me to stay!" He felt his hands twitching at his sides. What the hell are you supposed to do with your hands when they're not holding a gun, anyway?

He watched this baffling female creature before him, not letting himself believe that she had actually wanted him to stay. That maybe...maybe she wanted him to stay now. He nearly groaned aloud at the thought, his crotch becoming uncomfortably tight.

She looked ashamed, as if regretting that she had said too much to him, and he wanted so badly to assure her that he would not use her confession to hurt her. He eyed her incredulously, paralyzed and unable to think of a single damn thing to say to break the pregnant silence between them. His paralysis broke when a gleam of light from the television illuminated the shine of unshed tears in her eyes. He immediately fell to his knees beside the couch, reaching for her hands.

"No...Dana...don't. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I didn't tell you...Dana I never let myself believe that you would want anything from me but my incarceration or even death! God...I never even let myself *want* to stay, Dana! If I had even let myself think about it, I would never have been able to do my job." He cringed at the way she frowned at the word "job" and again struggled to soothe her obvious pain.

He took her one good hand in both of his and nearly swooned when she made no attempt to extract herself from his caress. He rubbed his thumbs against her impossibly tiny wrist, absently trying to soothe away any pain he'd inflicted the night before as he tried to make her understand the war of emotions he felt thundering in his heart and mind.

"Listen, Dana, I know you think I'm the lowest vermin ever to slink the earth. And I know you can't understand the things I do. But please try to hear me out. I do what I do because I believe in what I'm working for. I don't believe in the men I associate with all the time. Hell, I don't even always believe in what I'm doing, but there are reasons for the choices I've made." Part of him wanted to run away and hide himself in a dark, safe place, secure in the fact that his world and that of Mulder and Scully would never have to really meet, except in the occasional violent confrontation. The other part of him was so tired. So sick and tired of knowing that the three of them were all fated to be fighting the same fight in the end. That they'd just started on different teams with different means. "Scully." He used her last name with purpose, trying to impress her with the seriousness of his words. "We aren't living in the same world we used to. Maybe there was a time when it was always right to put the lives of innocent individuals before the cause. A time when we could all stay within the stringent confines of the law and an archaic ethical code and still work toward our freedom. But Scully...Dana..." He gently put his fingers under her chin and leaned in toward her face. "We don't live in that world anymore. You know it. I know you do. And it kills me probably more than anything I've ever had to do, that you have to give up your innocence and belief in the greater good, but it would kill me more to see you die by that naivete. And I can't let you continue to walk around in the dark, tripping over bits of dangerous truth, wondering if you're going to see through to the bigger picture before you find yourself in falling through some black hole into hell."

Alex felt his mind and body held in thrall as he stared into bottomless blue eyes, touching soft, sweet-smelling skin and feeling the life force of this incredibly strong, passionate woman radiating at him from just inches away.

Dana felt the slightly scratchy but incredibly gentle fingers burning into the vulnerable flesh of her chin and jaw as he continued to hold her face in place. She rebelled inwardly at the words he was saying, all the while knowing in some deep part of her heart that things had, irrevocably and inconceivably, changed. She felt the last standing wall that she was protecting herself from this man with begin to crumble and fall beneath the weight of this undeniable and shattering truth.

No longer could she continue to tell herself that Alex Krycek was an evil man, just working selfishly toward his own ends. A thief and assassin as talented and accomplished as Krycek could have been living a life of gluttonous luxury by plying his trade for the highest bidder anywhere else in the world. Drug dealers with one-fourth of his skills and one-eighth of his charm were living in veritable palaces. He didn't have to remain tethered to a life-threatening, always-shifting, never- trustworthy group of men with designs on owning the future. He obviously worked within this group of conniving, back-stabbing co-conspirators because he believed in the work itself and the difference it would make in the coming fight.

And in the now-forseeable and unavoidable future, they were all going to *need* men exactly like Alex Krycek if they had any hope of surviving.

Dana realized with a slow slide to madness that she needed him for her survival right now. Before he had a chance to even figure out what she was doing, she threw herself forward and pressed her lips against his mouth with a small, needy moan.

Oh. My. God. What's happening? Is this for real? Dana Scully is kissing me. I'm not kissing her; she's kissing me. This has got to be the most unreal moment of my entire unreal life.

Alex felt the plump, sweet lips pressing against his and felt a shock go through his whole body when her small pink tongue started to trace his still-closed lips. With a start, he realized he was so overcome with shock and pleasure that he was simply existing in the power of her kiss and not returning it. With a desperate, high-pitched whimpering grunt, he opened his mouth and swept her tongue inside with his own, drinking in her kiss with a hunger he could hardly keep in check. He raised up on his knees higher, pressing her back into the corner of the couch, pushing his hand up the side of her face to entwine his fingers in her soft, fine fall of russet hair, running the other one up the side of her body roughly.

Her small sound of pain brought his explorations to an immediate standstill. He drew back, startled remorse evident on his panting face. "God, Dana, I'm sorry!" He put his hands up before him in his "I'm harmless, really!" gesture and leaned back away from her, on the edge of crying with shame and frustration.

"No Alex...come back." Dana reached her good hand out toward him, grabbing the collar of his jacket and jerking him closer. "You just need to be a little more careful. I'm not as tough as I was the other night." She raised her eyebrows with an impertinent smirk. "Guess you'll have to go slower this time."

Alex gasped out his relieved laughter as he felt her pulling him forcibly back into contact with her lips. He murmured against them as she re-instigated the kiss. "I can do slow. I do slow really well." She moaned against the words.

He began by softly, slowly letting his tongue swirl around hers in her open mouth, his lips just barely touching hers, the warm air of their kiss breathing out from between them. He withdrew his tongue just long enough to speak against her lips once more. "I'm pretty good with gentle, too." He licked at her open lips and returned to his barely-touching kiss, mimicking the butterfly pressure of his lips with his hands, stroking down, feather-soft, over her neck and shoulders, then carefully but quickly lifting the quilt up and throwing it down at her feet, uncovering her reclining form.

His body ached to merge itself with this moaning, sighing, writhing woman in front of him. The pleasure was almost pain as he felt his straining cock brush her bent knee through the fabric of stretched denim. He groaned with frustration, using the iron will and patience that had kept him alive countless times to now keep his body from taking over and ravaging the one laid before it. He was going to take his time and show her how precious and invaluable she was if it killed him. And the way his heart was thudding in his bruised throat as he struggled for control, it just might.

Dana felt those killer's lips brush so softly against her own and then felt Alex Krycek's tongue stroke the inside of her mouth without increasing the pressure. It just about drove her right out of her mind. She wanted to suck his tongue deeply into her mouth and crush his lips with her own, but she had told him to go slow, and she was trembling with desire at the thought of this hardened criminal taking his time and driving her slowly crazy with soft pleasure. So she swallowed her impulses to yank his face hard against hers and surrendered herself up totally to his teasing ministrations.

She felt the cold chill of the removal of the quilt for only a moment, giving it only as much attention as she could spare from the hand just barely touching her now painfully erect nipples with gentle fingertips. She arched her body up into the barely- there touch, but the fingers withdrew just enough to keep the touch light, making her whimper with frustrated need.

The tongue was now flicking at the corners of her partly open mouth, making its way from her lips to her jawline. He painted it with a line of tiny, licking kisses from her chin to just behind her ear. She only had one hand to work with and that one was being pinned beneath a gently pressing, hard as rock body as it pushed her back and down into the cushions of the couch. She struggled to free her hand, needing to feel this firm, sweet flesh under her fingers. She pushed downward, raising her body slightly off the couch and was rewarded with a sudden loud groan as her hand came in contact not-so-gently with a hard, hot bulge below the waist of her former enemy's jeans.

"No...oh God no Dana. I want this to be all for you. Just lie back, please." His voice was hoarse and pleading as he used one hand to remove her fingers from his jumping cock while never pausing in the slow torture of her nipples with the other.

Dana whimpered again in frustration as her hand was tucked underneath her undulating hips, but she obeyed, far too excited at the prospect of being at this man's soft, languorous mercy to protest. She sighed deeply and felt her body go liquid as she gave herself up in total submission.

"Good girl. I promise. You won't regret this." Krycek raised his hands to her chest and pressed his tongue in the small openings between the halves of her pajama top as his fingers worked the satin-covered buttons from their buttonholes with easy grace. Dana let out an open-mouthed groan as Alex very gently closed his teeth around first one nipple, then the other, brushing the pajama top open to bare her perfect breasts. He had not had the chance to really appreciate them the first time, as he had not even taken the time to remove her top in his hurry to take her against the wall, but now he let his gaze travel over the delicious, soft white curves, feeling himself drool as his eyes took in the perfectly rose-pink nipples, standing erect and shiny with his saliva.

"God, Dana. Are you real? No one could be this beautiful. It's just not possible." He continued staring at her reverently and his gaze burned and made her gasp. She could have sworn it was his hands on her and not just his eyes.

Alex realized he was neglecting his duties and elicited several more gasps like the first as he brushed the sides of those gorgeous breasts with his fingers and scraped his teeth across the nipples, breathing hot and wet against the taut, puckering flesh.

"You're killing me!" Scully gasped, digging into the material of the couch with her good hand and rubbing her knees together as the attention being paid to her breasts was setting up a permanent line of communication between them and her clit.

Alex's eyes smoldered up at her beneath his lashes as his tongue extended out to tickle a nipple. "What a way to go, though." And he sucked her nipple into his mouth just once, firmly, before letting it slip from between his lips.

"Ohhhhhhh..." Scully couldn't agree more as her hips jerked up off the couch of their own volition, dying to be brought into the fun.

Krycek was only too happy to oblige them. He trailed his fingers down her sides, enjoying the way her body writhed beneath the tickling, torturing touch. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of her pajamas and wondered if Dana Scully always wore her pajamas without panties or if he'd just gotten lucky last night.

Well he had gotten lucky, there was no fucking doubt about that, but he was about to get lucky again. His breath left his body in a shuddering sigh as he pulled the satin down her hips and found nothing but bare, writhing, wet Scully beneath them. God. He could smell her and the scent was making him light-headed with need. He inhaled deeply, letting his eyes close and wondered briefly if he was about to pass out on Scully-fumes. He opened his eyes and concentrated on slipping the satin pajama bottoms down off the scissoring, sliding legs encased in them. He slid them off completely and dropped them on the floor, then paused to look at the vision he had just uncovered.

Dana Scully lay spread out before him, naked except for the sleeves of her open pajama top and an ace bandage extending from shoulder to wrist. He wanted sooooo badly to take away any and all pain he had ever caused her, ending with the pain of her injured arm, and replace it with a tidalwave of pleasure, adoration and worship.

"God. Scully. Dana. What did I do to deserve to be able to do this?" Alex's voice sounded genuinely puzzled and Scully wanted to slap him out of his self-recrimination and tell him to get back to work. She didn't have to though as those dark, dangerous hands lowered themselves to her thighs and began stroking them, gently pushing them apart.

She felt those amazingly soft lips press softly against her abdomen as the pressure of his hands increased just slightly, pushing her thighs to either side of his chest, which was now lowering itself into the space created. Scully felt a thrill go through her at the thought of a completely dressed man servicing her body with mind-blowing skill as she lay naked and passive beneath him. The slight scratch of the jacket's zipper was a delicious contrast to the slightly cool, soft leather as it slid against her bare thighs. She moaned and twitched as the zipper raked her once again.

Alex mistook the sound for one of displeasure and raised himself off her, starting to shrug out of the jacket with a mumbled apology.

"No..." Scully lifted her head up off the cushions and breathed, "Leave it on." Her entreaty was met by a pleased raise of sable eyebrows and a scorching smile. "Like the leather?" Her only reply was a low hum as he watched her eyes close and her head fall back against the cushions once again. He shrugged the jacket back up onto his shoulders and lowered himself to his task, still smiling.

Scully felt the leather rub against her bare thighs once more, then felt it slide lower as Krycek scooted his body around, pulling on her hips to get them into the right position.

She opened her eyes and looked down her body just in time to see that long pink tongue snake out from between sensuous lips and press between the dripping folds of her sex. She cried out at the gentle jabbing wet heat and her hips bucked up off the couch. Gentle, hot hands placed themselves on either hip, holding her firmly in place as that cruelly kind tongue licked her from the bottom of her slit to the top, forcing a deep, throaty cry from her open mouth.

Krycek moaned as he heard for the second time the sound of Dana Scully losing control and becoming a purely sexual animal. God, the taste of her, the feel of her satiny flesh under his tongue was a new kind of death, a dizzying torture as his cock jerked and ground against the leg which had insinuated itself between his trembling thighs. He closed his eyes, unable to handle seeing and feeling all that wet, hot Scullyflesh at the same time and not wanting to come in his pants before he'd made her scream. Eyes closed, using only his senses of touch and smell, he worked his tongue up between her folds, feeling with the tip for that stiff little bit of flesh that he was going to use to drive her out of her mind. The loud, forced "OH!" that greeted his ears, as well as the feeling of throbbing, hot flesh against the tip of his tongue, alerted him to the fact that he had indeed reached that wonderful destination. He groaned as he felt his body shudder and he willed his hands not to dig into pale, already- bruised flesh.

He breathed hotly over the little nub of flesh, licking to the sides and all around but not touching it again, thoroughly enjoying the steady humming moans of the writhing woman he had at his mercy. He removed one hand from her hip and tickled around her opening with it, sliding it around in gentle circles, then pressing his long middle finger inside of her, eliciting a new set of whimpers and undulations. He continued teasing all around her clit with lips and tongue, flicking out to taste it now and then as he softly thrust his middle finger in and out of her. He inserted a second finger to more moans of approval. Turning his hand palm-up, he began to stroke the upper wall of her vagina with the tip of his middle finger until her thighs began to shake and she let out a continuous stream of "oh oh oh."

He withdrew his tongue and placed a gentle kiss on the slippery lips of Dana Scully's sex. "Are you ready to come for me Dana?" His voice was deep and low, a voice he usually used when he was about to kill someone, rather than give them a mind-blowing "little death."

"OH GOD YES!" His answer was delivered with complete conviction and abandon, its owner's head thrashing side to side on the sofa cushion. He wanted to hear her beg him, but he thought it would be unduly cruel, given the way he had driven her to a heretofore unknown level of raw need and frustration. He stroked her G-spot firmly as he lowered his mouth to her sex and ran his tongue around and around her clit firmly. Licking the underside hard and fast, he sucked with his lips pressed against her.

Scully's hips shot up off the couch as she ground herself into Krycek's face and screamed repeatedly, feeling jolts of pure energy shake her body from hips to shoulders to toes, turning her into a lightning rod of focused orgasmic sensation. Her body bucked and shuddered, again and again as she nearly lost consciousness from the intensity, hearing a deep throaty scream and dimly realizing she was making it. She became vaguely aware of the pain of a scratched throat as the aftershocks continued to shake her body, Krycek's lips now pressed against her firmly in a perpetual kiss as he rode out her climax, fingers deep inside her clenching heat. She gasped and panted as the waves finally became manageable and only then did she finally lift her hand from her side and stroke through the sweaty dark hair tickling her heaving abdomen.

"C'mere," she gasped out, pulling his head up by the hair.

Krycek obeyed, slipping his fingers out of her reluctantly, hearing a gasp elicited by their absence, and raising his mouth from her dripping sex, licking his lips, catching his breath. He felt those small, trembling fingers continue to pull his hair insistently, bringing him up her body. He placed his hands on either side of her to make the trip easier and less painful. Her mouth was open before his lips even met it and he sank onto her with a deep, tortured groan, his lips slippery with her juices as his mouth slid against hers in a deep, sucking, moaning kiss.

She sucked her juices from his tongue and lips, devouring his mouth with all of the intensity she'd been forced to repress during his slow, gentle domination of her body. When the dizziness had cleared enough for her to think, she broke the kiss, pushing up against his chest with her free hand.

"Now. Take 'em off."

Krycek smiled at the tone of authority in that hoarse-from- screaming-in-ecstasy voice. It was a tone he'd heard her use when telling bad guys to keep their hands where she could see them. He didn't think he'd ever be able to keep himself from getting rock-hard when he heard that tone in her voice again and he certainly wasn't about to disobey it.

He raised up off her and ripped off his jacket, flinging it across the room, tearing off his T-shirt before he even heard it hit the floor. Trembling, slippery fingers worked at the button fastening his jeans and he growled at the difficulty of getting it open, finally freeing the damn thing and yanking the sides of his jeans open, forcing the zipper, then shoving the jeans down his legs.

That's when he realized he was still wearing his boots.

"FUCK!" He roared, and dimly registered a throaty giggle coming from the vicinity of the couch. He didn't even look up as he fell back on his ass and tore at the laces of his boots, finally getting them loose enough to rip them off his feet. He growled again in satisfaction as he yanked off his socks and then pushed his jeans the rest of the way down and off his legs and stood up.

Dana Scully abruptly stopped giggling as she saw a naked, trembling, painfully erect Alex-fucking-Krycek focus every atom of his need on her. She felt her mouth open in a small gasp, stunned with the ferocity of the animal gleam in those dark emerald eyes. For a moment, she felt afraid, then in a second she decided that she could still be in charge, if she wanted to be.

"Fuck me." The low breathy command was barely out of her mouth before he was on her, once again devouring her tongue with his sex-taste mouth, now groaning and pressing his hard cock against her as he sucked and licked. She raised her hips just slightly and to the sound of a deep mutual groan he pushed all the way in.

He groaned deeply into her mouth now and she felt herself unable to resist joining him, their moans intermingling at the same time their tongues swirled around each other. With a deep breath, Scully felt him pull almost all the way out of her then plunge back into her, their pelvises hitting together almost painfully. She noticed with the last bit of lucidity he had left her with that he was leaning to his right side, keeping his weight off her injured arm. She wanted to throw her arms around him in a grateful hug at his thoughtfulness, but she was too busy fucking his brains out...or was that having her brains fucked out? Whatever. She would have to thank him later. He was drawing back and thrusting into her now in a pounding, jarring rhythm and she felt herself making another, faster climb to a second peak as she tilted her hips to capture his thrusts at the right angle for her maximum pleasure.

Ah yeah. That's it...right there. "Ohhhh," she moaned into his mouth as his prick slid again and again up against her sensitized and still-fluttering upper wall, bring her to a second, almost- painful but delicious orgasm. In answer to her jerking and shuddering and clenching around him, his thrusts became deeper and more erratic and the groans he fed her mouth sounded almost painful. Panting through the ebb and flow of her receding climax, she pulled back from the kiss, her lips still touching his.

"Are you ready to come for me Alex?" She breathed, accentuating the words with thrusts of her own pelvis. The cry that answered her sounded like a sob. "Yeeeess!" Krycek gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt his body tighten in preparation for its badly-needed release.

"Then do it. Come!" She gasped out against him, jerking down on his ass with her free hand, raising her pelvis up to meet his erratic thrusting as best she could.

She felt his hips jerk against her painfully again and again and again as the gentle, sensuous killer above her gave himself over to the pleasure wrought by her body. Through the thrashing, she heard him moaning and crying out unintelligible words, some of them Russian, some of them sounding somewhat like her name, others sounding like the various deities she was familiar with.

Krycek pumped his seed deeply into the small body beneath him in a seemingly unending stream of pure hot pleasure, pain and heat, vaguely wondering if a man could have an aneurysm from coming too hard. Feeling his cock spasm and throb inside Dana Scully's tight, hot embracing body for the second time in his life, he promised every god he'd ever heard of that he would be good for the rest of his life if he could just stay buried in this body forever.

The shuddering jerks finally subsided and were replaced by a sudden overwhelming exhaustion. Krycek fell on top of Scully, still just aware enough to let his weight fall on her uninjured side, which had him half falling off the couch. He felt her scoot against the back, giving him more room. He placed a sweaty, trembling kiss on her forehead as he arranged himself half-on, half-off her body, stretched out together with her on the narrow piece of furniture.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes, both drifting in the afterglow of their lovemaking and bringing their respiratory rates back into the normal range. Scully's free hand stroked lazily through silky dark strands as the fingers of one of Krycek's hands rubbed gentle circles into her shoulders, the other curling under her head, pillowing it against his chest. Just as Scully was starting to wonder if he was falling asleep, Krycek spoke.

"I never dreamed you'd ever let me do that. Never dreamed you'd want me to." His voice was low and soft and punctuated by kisses against her hair.

She sighed, snuggling a little closer against his chest. "I never dreamed I'd let myself have you," she said, wonderingly.

"Let yourself have me?" Alex's voice was amused and curious. He liked the sound of it. Made him sound like a decadent dessert.

"Yeah...I mean, I've been able to admit to myself that I wanted you, in a purely physical sense, several times, but I never thought I'd actually let down my guard enough to ever have you."

Krycek felt a tiny stupid twinge of sadness at the way she clarified that she wanted him purely physically, but he shook it off, mentally smacking himself for not focusing on being eternally grateful for even being given the opportunity to have her body. Besides, it wasn't as if he loved her or anything, right? He felt his mind skitter away from that dangerous subject quickly.

"Well, if you remember, your guard wasn't exactly down, Scully. At least that's not what I call it when you greet your lover with a gun to his head." He kept his tone teasing and light, hoping that the subject was not one that would bring her any discomfort.

She laughed lightly, nuzzling his neck with her nose. "You weren't my lover then," she said, kissing his throat and licking away a tiny droplet of perspiration. "You were still my arch- enemy and an unwelcome intruder."

He sighed at the feeling of her small hot tongue on his throat. "And I'm your lover now?" He tried to say it without all the emotion he felt, unwilling to let her see how badly he wanted her to answer in the affirmative.

"Mmmmhmmm," she hummed against his skin. "The best one I've ever had." He shivered as she continued to kiss his neck and wrapped his arm tightly around her, pressing his lips against her forehead. He finally decided that if she could be that honest, so could he.

"I've never experienced anything like this in my life, Dana."

She snuggled against his throat. "Come on, don't tell me you haven't had better sex. God, you must get all you can handle and then some!"

He smiled at the way she assumed his sex appeal, but his voice was soft and serious. "I'm not just talking about the sex, Scully." He used her last name purposely, wanting her to realize that they were still the same two people, Krycek and Scully, and that he was still about to bare his soul to her. "I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you." It was true. The kind of confusing protectiveness, respect, longing and connection he felt for Scully was only matched by those same emotions for her partner, although he'd never really allowed himself to explore any possible sexual attraction for Fox Mulder before. But then, until he had seen that passion in her soul as she struggled in his arms, he'd never really allowed himself to be physically attracted to Dana Scully, either.

Scully's voice was equally serious as she raised her head just slightly in order to see his expression better. "What do you mean? How *do* you feel?"

He sighed heavily, realizing he'd passed the point of no return and now he'd have to struggle to give voice to feelings he himself hadn't acknowledged until now. "Scully...Dana...I think as much as a person like me can recognize the sensation," he broke off, scared to say the words. Ah what the hell. He breathed in deeply and took the plunge. "I love you."

Her shocked intake of breath wasn't lost on him and he steeled himself for the inevitable rejection.

"Love...God, Alex." Scully moved back from his body as much as she could, given the confines of their situation, and Krycek shifted away from her, preparing to get up. "Wait, Alex...I don't want you to go, that's just a lot to take in."

"It's okay, Dana. You don't have to say anything. Don't say anything at all." Krycek slipped his arm out from beneath her head and shifted his weight off her, feeling the flesh of their bodies unseal and the cool air hit. He pulled himself up off the couch, ignoring her half-hearted attempts to pull him back down. He retrieved his jeans from the floor and pulled them on, then reached over and turned on the lamp to help him in his search for his shirt. The both squinted and blinked at the sudden light flooding the room, throwing everything into stark relief.

"Alex...Krycek...please. I don't want you to think I'm not listening to what you're telling me...and I don't want you to misinterpret my reaction. I'm not saying anything because I'm just not sure how I feel. But I know I feel really good about what you've said to me." He looked up at her at that, and the small smile that met him engendered one in response.

"Scully, I think I need to tell you something else." He sighed heavily and sank into the plump side chair, the quest for his T- shirt forgotten.

Scully raised herself up on the couch, reaching down to arrange the quilt casually over her lower body, more aware of her nakedness in the lighted room. "What is it?"

"What I feel...isn't *just* for you, Scully. I don't really understand it myself, but you and Mulder...you're like the star around which my planet revolves." He stared at the floor, embarrassed at his poetic statement, but feeling like it was as much truth as he knew how to tell.

"I've always wished, in some way, that I could be like you," he continued. Then he shook his head, frowning. "No, that's not exactly right. I wish we could be more like each other. You two are so innocent. Dangerously innocent. Sometimes you're like toddlers trying to cross a busy street. It makes me want to scream how much danger you put yourselves in, totally unaware of it all! And you hang onto your naive idealism even when it doesn't serve you anymore. Idealism that not only puts you at risk, but actually does nothing to improve the chances for the rest of us making it, either."

His voice had risen in his slight diatribe, but now it resumed its former gentle tones.

"I'd like to have some of that idealism back, though. I'd like to feel the regret and remorse over taking a life that I used to. I'd like to share in that wide-eyed reverence for all life that I see shining out from behind your eyes and Mulder's, but I can't. I know too much. I've crossed way too many busy intersections." He stopped, raising his head to gauge her reaction.

Scully's eyebrows were creased in a frown, but it was one of concentrated listening and consideration, not disapproval or anger. "I know that you know things we don't, Alex. And by the way, I know you're still Krycek but after making amazing love to you on my couch it feels weird to call you by your last name, so you're Alex, okay?"

"Okay." His voice was pleasedly resigned.

"Good. Anyway, Alex, Mulder and I obviously only know bits and pieces of the truth you've been privy to for a long time, but I can't believe that your ruthless disregard for human life is the answer to the problems our world is facing, no matter how cataclysmic. I'm sorry." Her voice was apologetic but firm.

Krycek was grateful for her predictable straightforwardness. He would always know where he stood with her. That was more precious to him than hearing unending declarations of love. "No, don't be," he said. "I don't want you to lose that, Scully. Sorry...Dana." She smiled at his slip and he smiled back sadly. "But I also think that holding on to those old ethics with too tight a grasp isn't going to serve us in the fight ahead." He sighed, with what sounded like the weight of the world pushing out his breath. "God what I'd give for a happy medium."

He was surprised to see the tousled redhead nodding sadly. He raised his eyebrows in an unvoiced question.

"Yeah...I think you're right. Does that surprise you so much? I'm not stupid, Alex. I know that what we're talking about here is war, and in times of war, sentiment and compassion don't always have a place." She sighed. "That doesn't mean I have to let it all go without a fight."

"No. No it doesn't" Krycek's voice was soft, and he rose up from the chair and crossed to kneel before her again. Yes, if he was able to ever feel it, he was sure he was in love with Dana Scully.

"There's one more thing I should probably tell you."

Her brows creased in another frown, but she said nothing.

"Mulder found me."

Scully's eyes closed in realization and she let out her breath.

"He was there to kill me, Dana. He almost did it, too."

Her eyes squeezed tightly and he took her face in his hands and brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones softly. "It's okay, Dana. He thought I'd hurt you. He thought..." He took a deep breath, not wanting to even say the words out loud. "He thought I'd raped you. God, if I thought someone had done that to you I'd kill them with my bare hands too. Only I wouldn't have shown the mercy Mulder finally did. Another reason why I'm glad you two aren't too much like me." He smiled and lifted her chin with his fingers. She opened her eyes and met his grin with a small smile of her own, lifting her fingertips to brush over the bruises and cuts that were evidence of Mulder's murderous intentions.

He turned his head to kiss her fingers and his voice became low and soft. "He loves you so much, Dana. More than anything in his life. More than life itself. I think you know that though, don't you?" She tried to look away, but he held her face there. "Go on, Dana. Admit it. Admit you know he wants you more than anything else on this planet."

"No." She surprised him by shaking her head. "Alex, you're right about one thing. Mulder loves me. I know he does. And I know he'd give his life for me in a heartbeat, and I think he knows I feel the same about him." Alex frowned, confused by her contradictory words. She continued. "But he doesn't *want* me, Alex. Not like you do." She smiled, letting all of the bewildering array of emotions she had for this man radiate out at him for the first time.

Krycek gasped at the force of that smile and leaned forward to kiss those irresistible lips. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers.

"Oh God, Dana. That's where you're wrong. So wrong." He stroked the back of her neck with his hand. "He wants you just as much as I do. Hell, maybe more, but I don't know how that's possible. I know he hasn't let you see it, but that's because he doesn't think you want him back and he can't bear the thought that all that need and desire is one-sided. God if you knew how much he wanted you, it would scare the shit out of you, Dana."

It was Scully's turn to gasp. "H..how do you know?" Her voice squeaked out, uncharacteristically small and insecure.

Krycek laughed gently. "You wouldn't ask that if you'd seen him...crying because I'd been the one to make love to you instead of him. Yeah, Dana. I finally convinced him that it was mutual, what happened that night. I know. I'm sorry. I know it wasn't my place to tell him, but it was the only way I could save my life, Dana. He wouldn't have let me live if I'd done what he thought I'd done. But when he finally understood that you had participated too, it broke him, Dana. I've never seen anything like it."

He pulled back when he heard the small sob and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"Oh God! Mulder! How could I have known? Alex...doesn't he know? I love him so much, Alex. I love him so much." Jesus Christ. Where did that confession come from? Never underestimate the power of post-coital euphoria.

"I know you do, Dana. And he knows too. What he doesn't know is how much you *want* him. And, just like you, he assumes that because you've never indicated otherwise, that the love you feel for him doesn't go beyond the deepest friendship." He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "In other words, he doesn't know what a hot little sex kitten he has on his hands." He watched her return his smile and she wiped at her eyes with her fingertips. He stood. "I have to go."

She looked up at him in surprise and dismay.

"I gave Mulder a lot to think about, Scully. Just like I did you. Guess it's just time for the truth to come out," he said, gathering up his shirt and pulling it over his head. He sat down on the chair again and pulled on his socks, then laced up his boots with much more patience and care than he had used to unlace them. Finally he slipped on his jacket and ran a hand through his hair before turning to face her. She still hadn't said a word.

"I told Mulder I'd be in touch. I will, Scully." He used her last name to give them both a little distance and to once again remind her just who was leaving the bootmarks on her wood floor. "You guys need to talk. Don't try to find me. I need to get lost for awhile. But I'll be back, and I hope that when I do, you both will have thought long and hard about everything and made a decision...one way or the other." He turned around to leave.

"Alex," Scully called softly. He turned to face her. "Please...be safe."

"I will." And he was gone, closing the door behind him softly and leaving her alone in the dark and empty apartment once again.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 6

When Mulder finally stood up from the motel bed, the light outside was just getting that super clear, purple water look to it. He started at the sound of his back popping. How long had he sat there? He checked the analog alarm clock on the lamp table and saw that it was just past eight.

<I stared at that puke green bedspread for an hour and a half?> Mulder closed his eyes against the implications of that and made his way to the door. He was surprised to see that Krycek had locked it behind him as he had left. <To give me privacy after that total mindfuck?> His eyes felt itchy and grainy and he rubbed them with thumb and forefinger. It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to cry, and his body had that weak, faintly nauseated feeling it always left behind.

<I lost it in front of Krycek. I fucking bawled like a baby in front of Alex Krycek.> The nausea increased and he swallowed painfully.

<And the fucker comforted me.>

He headed back toward his apartment, but as the streets became more and more familiar, he realized he just didn't want to go home. Something about being in the same old apartment with all the new emotions, thoughts and ideas seemed wrong, and he had the feeling that if he stepped into that dark, empty place he might never choose to leave. So he took a few intentional wrong turns and continued to watch the darkening cityscape roll by outside the car window.

<Why does this shit always happen to me? I have enough to think about. Enough, God damn it, without having to deal with my worst enemy wanting to team up with me after having fucked *FUCKED* my partner and the one person in the world I thought I could trust!> He felt the tears start to warm his eyes again and ignored the way the streetlights blurred as he drove.

<Scully. Oh God, Scully. What did she do? What the fuck would make her do something like this? She fucked him. She wasn't raped by him; she fucked him. God god god what am I supposed to do about that? How the fuck was I supposed to foresee this fucking possibility?> He slowly tuned his awareness to the street signs and realized he was at least fifteen miles away from his neighborhood.

<So all of a sudden I'm supposed to just deal with the fact that Krycek isn't evil and Scully's fucking him? What the fuck parallel universe have I been sucked into for Christ's sake?>

He found himself sitting at a stop sign, his foot unwilling to depress the pedal and accelerate the car either further into the unknown city landscape or towards home.

With a deep inward sigh, he turned the wheel toward Georgetown and immediately felt the constriction in his chest loosen.

The feeling was short lived as he felt a band of pain tighten around his heart, looking up at the soft blue light flickering through her living room window. The prospect of seeing Scully had never brought him pain before, and that thought alone intensified the ache tenfold.

<Scully...what happened? What happened to us? What did I do?> He felt weary and empty and no more tears would come. <Or what did I not do?> He stared up at the soft blue beacon for another hour before the tiredness gave way to a feeling of manic restlessness. With the false energy came a true sense of direction as he realized he only had one recourse if he hoped to hang onto the most important thing in his life.

His hands trembled as he reached for the door handle, and he took a few moments to steady his breath before making his way to her door.

It was only as he raised his hand to knock on the door that he realized how late it had become. There was no sound in the hall outside of her apartment and checking his watch, he was surprised to see that it was after midnight. He rapped lightly on the door, knowing that if he didn't do this now, he might never get the courage again, and then he most certainly would lose her.

There was no answer. He knocked again, a little more loudly this time. Still nothing. He had watched the window long enough to know that the television had never been turned off, and he knew Scully would never leave without doing that. He knew she was inside. She must be asleep. Recovering from her trip to the hospital and whatever had happened in her apartment the night before.

He sighed deeply. The last thing he needed was some nosy neighbor hearing him pound on her door at nearly 1 a.m. in the morning. He reached into his pocket and brought out his ring of keys, quickly shuffling to the one she had given him that would open her door.

<Krycek didn't have a key, but you let *him* in, didn't you Scully? I get the key to your apartment, but he gets the key to your heart...or at least your body.> He visibly shook off the shattering thought and slid his key silently into the lock.

He entered her apartment quietly, scanning the area for her, not wanting to startle her. The room was dark, but he could just make out her form curled up on the sofa in front of the still- flickering television screen. He sighed again and pushed the door shut behind him with a quiet click.

So small. She looked so small, curled up beneath a crocheted afghan, her skin given an otherworldly glow by the light of the TV. So beautiful and so perfect, like she would break if he touched her. He wanted to. God how he wanted to, but he'd never felt the permission and he'd never made the overture. And Krycek's hands had been all over that pearly, breakable body.

He heard a strangled sob and realized it came from him.

She startled awake.

He watched her eyes dart around the room before settling on him with a look of confusion and pain.

"Mulder." Her voice was a choked whisper.

He blinked slowly and took a deep breath but said nothing, his gaze penetrating hers with all of his unspoken questions.

Scully shifted under that accusing stare and realized that she was nude beneath the afghan. Carefully keeping it up around her neck, she raised up against the arm of the sofa so that she was facing him as he stood in the middle of her living room. The silence stretched between them in a way that neither had ever thought it would. Scully felt the tears well in her eyes.

"Mulder, please...say something."

She watched his fists clench and unclench as his jaw muscles tensed. She listened to him breathe, then when she couldn't take it anymore, she looked away, willing her tears not to fall.

"Why?" His tortured confusion brought her face up to meet his piercing stare once again.

He watched her blue eyes, shiny with unshed tears, widen as she licked her lips and bit the bottom one nervously.

"So you...know then." It wasn't a question. She looked down at the afghan, her hands fidgeting uselessly beneath it.

"Huh. Yeah, I know, Scully." Mulder swallowed painfully, fighting the urge to grab her by her small white shoulders and shake her. He watched as her eyes overflowed and the tears coursed slowly, steadily down her cheeks, unchecked. He wanted to rush forward and kiss them away at the same time he wanted to throttle her and punish her for the agony he was in.

He decided to do neither and concentrating on keeping his voice steady, spoke.

"I don't understand, Scully. What could I have done that would make you...that would cause you to...how could you do that? With *him*?"

Scully blinked to clear her vision. Not wanting to dislodge her covering by bringing her hands up to her face, she shrugged away the tears tickling her cheeks with one shoulder.

It made her look so much more vulnerable than Mulder had ever seen her. He almost felt sorry for making her go through this. He *did* feel sorry in fact, but that didn't change the fact it had to happen.

"Mulder, it wasn't you. It wasn't anything you did. I just..." She closed her eyes, feeling the shame heat her face. Eyes closed, she finished. "I'm just a woman, Mulder. I'm not perfect...not even close."

"I never wanted you to be perfect, Scully. God knows I'm not. But if you were going to give yourself to someone, why..." Mulder trailed off, unable to put his deepest desires into words.

Scully's eyes opened and she faced him, calmer. "Why him, Mulder? Why did I choose to give my body to someone as despicable as Alex Krycek? Because he saw me, Mulder. He really saw me. Not as an agent of the FBI or as someone's sister or daughter or friend. Just as a woman, Mulder. And I responded. I responded because it felt good to be seen like that. To be...wanted like that."

Mulder's eyes narrowed, whether in pain or anger Scully couldn't tell.

"I wasn't going to say Why him, Scully." He ground his teeth for a moment then decided that with what he had just heard, he had nothing to lose.

"I was going to say Why not me?" His voice broke on the last word and it came out a choked whisper.

Scully felt all the breath leave her body in a whoosh of shock and sorrow. "Oh Mulder...I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so bad. But I never thought you wanted me that way...that you saw me that way." She looked up into his flashing eyes, willing him to believe her...willing him to want her. "I know you love me, Mulder. I know you'd do anything for me. But I'm just a woman, Mulder, with weaknesses and needs...and sometimes I need to know that someone can see that and want that."

It was Mulder's turn to gasp and he felt the floor tilt crazily as his world came into sharp focus.

"God, Scully. If you knew...if you knew how many nights...fuck, how many days I've spent just trying not to want you so bad my soul ached...you'd run, Scully. No one should ever want someone that much...it's not fair...it's not fair to you." Now his gaze finally broke and he stared at the floor, feeling like he'd just cut himself wide open and now the heavy beating of his heart was pumping his life's blood out at her feet.

Scully could only stare at him, open-mouthed. A longing so fierce it made her dizzy washed over her, nearly knocking her from the sofa. Her words came out in a gasp, breathy and shuddering.

"Then why..." She swallowed. "Oh God, Mulder why didn't you ever let me know that?"

His eyes met hers and she felt a physical pain upon seeing the tears sparkling in his lashes.

"How could I, Scully? How could it ever be a good thing to be wanted by someone like me? Someone who's brought only pain and horror and loss to your life? I love you too much to let you want me, Scully. I love you too much to ever want that for you."

Scully closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, Mulder watched her lips break into one of those sweet, clear, sparkling Scully smiles that never ever failed to steal his breath away.

"It's waaaay too late for that, Mulder," she said, her eyes at once happy and sad. "I've wanted you since the first day I walked into your office."

Mulder's brow creased in a frown as he willed his heart to stop that annoying flutter. "No, you can't, Scully. You can't do that to yourself. I'm not worth it, Scully. God, can't you see that?"

Scully sighed softly, her smile fading. "Oh Mulder...no one's ever been more worth it." As she said the words, for the first time she realized they were true. Yes, she was risking a lot to love this man. Yes, she was giving up all her old preconceived notions of what love and life were all about. Yes, she was letting herself in for all kinds of problems and questions and difficulties.

But he was worth it. He was so worth it.

Mulder watched as that smile made its way across her beautiful face once again and this time its light caused him a tiny physical pain in his chest.

<I could die from this. And there's no way I'd rather go.>

He realized that in spite of and unbeknownst to himself, he was smiling back at her. He couldn't help it. It was an involuntary physiological response.

And it wasn't the only one he was having.

<Scully wants me. Wants ME. Not him, me. And I just told her...oh God oh fuck I just told her how much I want her.>

He could feel his pounding heart in both his chest and his cock and he tried to ignore the familiar pain. It hurt so much. It hurt to look at her. He wanted her so much that when he allowed himself to feel it, she turned into an object, just an insanely tempting fucktoy that he could never, ever have. It reminded him of those cartoons where a starving character looks at his best friend and sees an entree.

<Scully I'm so hungry.>

"I have to go." The words were said so quietly that Scully wasn't sure she had heard right. She prayed to God she hadn't heard right. Her smile vanished.

She wanted to scream, WHY? but she didn't. She knew why. She'd debased herself in his eyes. She'd fucked his enemy. He'd wanted her and loved her and now she was dirty, ruined and used and lying in the dirt at the foot of her pedestal. She stared down into her lap, realizing with a wash of shame that she could see her skin, still naked and sticky with the fluids of her and Krycek's sex, in tiny bits and snatches through the delicate stitchery of the afghan. She wanted to disappear.

Mulder saw the effect his words were having on Scully but he couldn't allow himself to think about them, having too difficult a time keeping himself under control. He knew that if he loosed the tight rein he had over his lust and emotions that he would not be able to stop himself from taking her...having her violently...and probably hurting her. He swallowed back an aching sob as he thought of her injured arm and its cause. <I won't. I won't do that to you. Not like that. Like him.> He stared at her trembling body as she let the tears fall and all he could think was how badly he wanted to possess that body. He hated himself for being unable to draw on the deep love and friendship and empathy he usually had in unlimited reserve for her, but his baser needs were making it almost impossible for him to form words. He had to get out. Now. Before it was too late.

"Goodbye, Scully." It was a whisper, and Scully looked up just in time to see him close the door behind him. The click had barely registered in her brain as she felt a tidal wave of pain and remorse and longing and grief break through the scant control she had over herself and she doubled over, sobbing and wailing and railing against the unfairness of it all.

It was over. She'd lost him. She'd been weak and she'd betrayed him and he would never see her the same way again. He'd wanted her and she'd given herself to someone else. She felt monumentally weak and stupid and empty, and for the first time in her life, she could not think of a reason to continue living.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 7

Scully curled up in a ball under the afghan and cried. And cried. And cried. Every time she thought she was done, she would hear the closing of the door as he left, and would feel, again, the stab of pain it shot through her body. So she cried.

She woke up to the sound of snow from the television, her face marked with the indentations from the afghan, her eyes itchy and hot. She felt like the worst piece of offal, dirty and abandoned.

She kicked the afghan off herself, too deep in her own self- loathing to even feel the least bit concerned with modesty.

<Modesty. That's a laugh. How could I have let things get so fucked up?> Having no tears left to cry and no energy with which to cry them, she instead made her way to the kitchen and pulled her trusty bottle of bourbon from the top cupboard and poured herself a glass. She didn't even bother with the ice this time. It wasn't necessary. She felt cold enough. She took several long drinks and the fiery liquid began to burn away her awareness and take the sharp corners off her pain.

She headed to the bathroom and started to run a bath.

The deja vu was not lost on her as she ran the water as hot as she could get it and dumped in a half bottle of vanilla foam bath. But last time she had run this kind of bath, she had not really felt dirty on the inside, the way she did now. She had only felt sticky and achy and uncomfortable. She remembered thinking to herself that night that she had been well and truly fucked. The thought made her actually laugh out loud and it was a raspy, ugly sound in the silent apartment. Well she was well and truly fucked now, that was for sure.

And she hurt. Her throat and chest and eyes burned from crying, and her arm hurt because it had been too long since her last Vicadin.

Well that was one thing she could certainly fix. She grabbed the bottle and shook out one of the long caplets. That action alone shot little stabs of pain up her outstretched arm. She shook out a second. What the hell. A little sleep would do her good. And if she couldn't assuage the emotional pain that threatened to drive her to her knees, she could at least alleviate the physical. Pausing only a moment as she raised her glass of golden liquid to her lips, she closed her eyes and downed her medication along with the rest of the glass of bourbon. She climbed into the tub and lay back in the bubbles, feeling the world swirl away.

No more pain. Please, no more pain.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Alex Krycek strode across the street in front of Scully's apartment, feeling loose and warm and quite honestly, wonderful. He hadn't had sex in months and he had never experienced anything like making love to Dana Scully.

He found himself stealing glances back at her building as he drove his black BMW to the airport.

"Can I check that for you sir?" Krycek looked up from his ticket to see the young, attractive ticketing agent looking at him with an expression of helpful attentiveness.

"No, thank you," he said, slinging his black leather carry-on bag over his shoulder.

"Okay then. You're at Gate 23B, just down that way." The girl gave him a dazzling, slightly more-than-necessary smile, and Krycek found himself returning it, not because he felt anything but a passing attraction for the pretty young thing, but just because he was feeling so solicitous right now. He realized it felt weird to bare his teeth in something other than a threatening grimace. Jesus. What the fuck was happening to him?

Krycek started making his way down to his gate, keeping his eyes out left and right while scanning his itinerary one last time. He had two hours before his flight left. Two hours to think about the most extraordinary experience of his life.

He'd told Dana Scully that he loved her. Was that true?? He really wasn't sure, if he was honest with himself. And one thing Alex Krycek had learned was that to be dishonest with yourself is to leave yourself open to grave danger. So, yeah, he tried very hard to be honest with himself.

But love?? Christ, he wasn't even sure what that word meant! He could remember loving his parents, and he had vaguely pleasant memories of thinking he was in love as a teenager. But what did it mean to really love someone now? Did he know? Did he even really want to know?

He knew he cared about her. He cared what happened to her, and he damn well cared about whether she got hurt or not. He wasn't sure what he would do now if he found out someone hurt her. He really didn't like to think about it. Having those kind of obligations and emotional attachments was just plain fucking stupid in his line of work. But, yeah, he cared.

And he knew he wanted her. Ohhhhh yes he wanted her. He couldn't remember ever feeling the intense hunger and fascination that just the thought of her now sparked deep in his soul. She was so pure. So true. Scully didn't lie, and she didn't play games, and she didn't pull punches. She didn't compromise her integrity, and she didn't backpedal on her ethics. She was sure, and she was good, and she was strong, and she was...God damn it all to hell she was fucking incredible in every way. Only her infuriating partner inspired the same kind of jealous admiration in him.

Mulder. That Goddamned moron. Here she is, given to him by the Gods like some incredible valiantly fought-for prize, partnered with him to destroy him and instead redeeming him. Saving him and helping him and loving him and wanting him. Wanting him. Wanting him so much that she let down her guard enough to let in someone so bad for her that it made him sick to consider it. And so happy that he had himself questioning his sanity.

Damn you Mulder. You had better fucking get it together and go make love to that woman or I'm going to finally have to give you the ass-kicking you've been earning ever since Tunguska.

He heard himself laugh out loud at the incredible ludicrousness of wanting another man to fuck the woman of his dreams. What the hell kind of sense did that make?

Perfect sense, if you were Alex Krycek. He cared about both of them enough to want them to finally give in to their long- suppressed desires and give themselves to one another. Wow. How fucked up was that?

Very.

Krycek shifted in the hard plastic seat and pictured Scully, naked and reclining on the sofa as he turned and left her apartment. So vulnerable. So needy. So in love with Fox Mulder. He decided that, whether he called it love or not, he cared enough about her to want to provide her with her heart's desire. And he knew her well enough to know that was Fox Mulder.

But would Mulder climb out of the pit of his own self-loathing and guilt long enough to go over there and reclaim what was his?

Krycek could not believe the insane thoughts that were going through his mind. But as he stuffed his itinerary in his inner jacket pocket and rose from the airport chair, he didn't try to kid himself. Remember, that's the kind of shit that gets you into trouble. He just sighed deeply, resigned to the fact that he was going to go back to Dana Scully's apartment and make sure that his princess ended up with her prince.

God it was a fucked up existence being Alex Krycek.

He pulled up in front of her apartment building and was relieved and glad to see Mulder's car parked in front of it. His plans to rush back to the airport and catch a later flight were dashed, however, when he realized Mulder himself was sitting in said car.

Hi sighed and settled in to wait and watch the show.

He was considering making his way across the street to pull Mulder out of his car and march him up to Scully's door himself, when in the light from the streetlamps, he saw Mulder's lanky frame unfold itself and step away from the Ford.

Was he going to take a piss, or had he finally pulled his head out of his ass? Krycek sat up to get a better view, and, seeing that Mulder was not heading for a bush but was rather making his way to the front door, sat back in his seat with a sigh of relief.

Finally. God, let's hope these two don't fuck this up. I can't afford to give this much of a damn. He waited, feeling an embarassed, sentimental thrill at the thought of Mulder and Scully finally confessing their feelings for one another.

He couldn't help the stabs of jealousy as he pictured their bodies grasping, clawing, stroking, and their mouths, devouring one another with a hunger built up over years of longing. But he knew it had to be this way. Scully needed to have Mulder. She needed his heart, his mind *and* his body. She also deserved to have someone that she could always depend on to be there, not only in times of crisis, but on a daily basis, going through the little events of life with her.

This was something that Krycek admitted to himself that he was not able to give her. Something he knew Mulder could and would.

And so he tried only to focus on how happy Scully, and of course, Mulder, must be right now, instead of how lonely it felt to be, once again as always, on the outside looking in.

He was about to pull away from the curb and catch a red-eye flight when he was shocked to see Mulder almost running from Scully's apartment building.

Shit. What the fuck, Mulder?

He opened the door to catch Mulder, unable to settle for being the bewildered bystander any longer, but Mulder was in his car and screeching down the street before Krycek could even close his car door.

This is not good. He climbed back into his car to think. Well, obviously things had not gone the way he'd been picturing them. What did Mulder's hasty departure mean? Krycek could only think of one reason for Mulder to abandon his plans to finally be with the one person in his life he trusted. The only one he really loved.

It was his fault. His involvement with Scully had destroyed their chance at happiness. Once again, without meaning to, he had fucked over Fox Mulder to an extent that he was very unlikely to be able to repair the damage. And not only that, but he had also stolen yet another bit of Dana Scully's life from her as well.

Sometimes it really sucked to be Alex Krycek.

He sighed deeply and leaned back into the seat of his car, wanting nothing so much as to take back the previous two days of his life. Hell, while we're at it, let's just obliterate everything after he was assigned to be the partner of a young, distraught, paranoid Spooky Mulder. Probably ought to give Mulder a break and just go back to before he ever met him. He'd never been anything but bad for the agent. He'd never had the option to.

Fuck.

He looked up at Scully's window, which remained dark save for the ever-present glow of the television. What was she doing now? Was she crying for her lost love? Was she hating Alex Krycek for destroying her one chance at happiness in this fucked up existence? The thought that she might be was what finally galvanized him to take action.

He stole quickly to her door and leaned in, listening. He could hear nothing. Was it only two days ago that he had broken into her apartment and shattered her life? He banged his forehead softly against the door and then rested the side of his head against it, overcome with doubt and remorse, both uncommon emotions for him.

Finally, fully aware of the irony of the situation, he knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again, harder this time.

Still no answer.

Briefly he considered just leaving, letting her sleep, but he felt driven to do something to make amends to her, and if that meant letting her pound her fists into him and spew her hatred and frustration at him, he was willing to offer her that sparse comfort. He'd gotten used to that role, actually. It was good to be of use.

He drew his lockpick from his jacket packet and bent to her door for the third time in two days. It was quicker going this time. This could definitely become a habit.

He stepped into the foyer with very little of the trepidation he had shown the last time, and none of the calculated hypervigilance he had been experiencing the first.

She wasn't on her couch anymore, but the television still roared softly with snow. He went to the set and turned it off, disturbed by the oddly lonely white noise. The silence hurt his ears.

He continued on to Scully's bedroom, fully expecting to meet with the now painfully evocative sight of her small form beneath the coverlet, but the bed was made and Scully was not in it. Krycek's eyes narrowed and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. It just didn't feel right in here. And that was a feeling he had learned *never* to ignore.

The bathroom. She could be in the bathroom. He checked, and, sure enough, the door was closed. He let out a tentative sigh of relief, and walked over to the door. Hesitating to listen for the soft sounds of occupation and hearing none, he rapped softly on the door. "Scully?" He heard his voice croak, and he cleared it and called out again, more loudly this time. "Scully...are you in there? It's me, Kry...Al...Krycek." He grimaced at his own inability to decide what his name was. But he quickly decided it didn't fucking matter because she wasn't fucking answering.

He didn't feel good about this at all. His voice this time was clear and strong with intent.

"Scully. It's Krycek. I'm coming in there if you don't answer me." He leaned in and held his ear flush with the door but heard no sound at all. He reached for the knob and felt it turn easily in his hand. He opened the door slowly, to give her time to cover herself should she want to.

As he stepped into the starkly lit bathroom, he realized she was beyond caring.

"Scully!" His voice was croaking again and he rushed to the side of the tub, falling painfully to his knees on the hard tile floor. She was lying in a full bathtub, head lolling to the side. She wasn't answering him.

He felt his throat close. No. He absolutely did not accept this. He grabbed her chin and turned her head to face him. He held it in one hand while he felt for her pulse with the other, shutting off all his emotions with a professional ability that would scare any sane person.

The facade of cold disinterest fell away as he felt a slow, erratic pulse beneath his fingers. She was alive. But just barely. As he leaned in closer, he could just feel the slightest hint of breath coming from between barely parted pink lips. He stuffed his emotions back down and assessed the situation. The water was cool but not cold. There was a half-empty glass of something on the floor. He leaned over and sniffed, always cognizant of the possibility of leaving or disturbing fingerprints. Smelled like bourbon. The good stuff. Had she drunk herself to the point of passing out? When had she had time? Why was her pulse so weak?

No time to try and puzzle it out. Scully needed help and she needed it now. He whipped out his cellphone and punched 911.

"Yes, hello. I have an emergency. I have a federal agent down." Krycek swallowed against the unfamiliar words, and his head swam with the surrealness of the situation as he gave the address and cross streets to Scully's apartment building. Then he ended the call and stared at the phone.

He needed to call Mulder. Mulder needed to know about this. But it wasn't as if he knew Mulder's cellphone number off the top of his head, nor was it programmed into Krycek's speed dial. And of course, he himself had been instrumental in seeing to it that Scully's phone was out of commission. Ah, her cellphone, yes. But he was willing to bet that her home phone would also be programmed to dial Mulder.

He made his way to the living room and picked up the phone and hit speed dial one. It rang three times and Krycek decided he had made a mistake and was going to have Scully's mother on the other end of this line very soon...a nightmare he couldn't begin to have the balls to deal with. As he reached for the hangup button to try another number, he heard a familiar flat monotone.

"Mulder." Thank God.

"Mulder, it's me," he replied, totally unaware of the weight of his choice of words.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Mulder stared at the display on his cellphone for several moments as it rang. The caller ID said it was Scully. He wasn't sure he could handle talking to her yet. He was still on his way home and the pain and desire and confusion was still making him dizzy and sick to his stomach. Finally, unable to bear the thought of Scully being on the other end and him not making a connection with her, he punched Talk.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me."

What the fuck? Was this somebody's idea of a sick joke, calling from Scully's home and using Scully's tagline?

"Who the fuck is this? What the fuck are you doing on Scully's phone?" Unbeknownst to himself, he had begun to turn the car around and head back to Scully's apartment to kick the shit out of whomever was choosing such a brilliant time to start shit with them.

"Mulder it's me, Alex Krycek. Listen, you have to..."

"Krycek? What the hell are you doing on her phone?"

Krycek sighed, trying valiantly to control his temper. "I'm trying to tell you that. Listen, Mulder. Scully's in trouble. You need to get over here." He knew his words would put Mulder in a panic, but he didn't see any other way to get through the the other man's usual knee-jerk reactions to him quickly.

"What kind of trouble? What the hell is going on? I was just there!" Mulder yelled into the phone, struggling to make a right turn going 30 MPH with one hand, cutting across the curb corner and nearly knocking over a stop sign in the process.

"Mulder calm down. I've called the paramedics. She's unconscious. That's all I know. It looks like she's been drinking. Was she drinking when you were here?" Krycek's tone was all business, and Mulder felt a twinge of gratitude, knowing that in his absence, Krycek was on the scene.

"Um, no. Not that I was aware of," Mulder replied, scanning his memories of their short meeting. "I don't remember seeing anything like that." He chewed his lip thoughtfully. "But she was taking medication. There was a bottle by the couch. I'm not sure what it was."

"Hang on." Mulder screeched around a corner, nearly dropping the phone but unwilling to give up his only connection to Scully's apartment. Hold on, Scully. God, hold on, I'm coming.

He heard Krycek come back to the phone. "It's Vicadin. She must have been on them for the...for the pain." Mulder closed his eyes briefly, remembering the bandaging extending up her arm. No, this was no time to get into that. The only thing that mattered was helping Scully.

"If she took Vicadin while she was drinking she could be experiencing a synergistic reaction of lowered respiratory function." Mulder struggled to keep his voice steady, not letting himself think about how small Scully was, and how succeptible to narcotics.

Scully...you're a doctor...why?

That was when it hit him that the answer was currently taking the corners in Georgetown at well above the recommended speed. He'd done this. He'd left her, hurt and crying, and her reaction to his abandonment was to do this.

No, God, Scully...I left *because* I love you. He felt the tears blurring his vision and blinked them away, not needing another element to increase his chances of careening into a telephone pole.

Hang in there, Scully. Please, God let her be all right.

He rounded the corner and swerved up against the curb outside her building, running his left tires up onto the sidewalk. Unconcerned with his high-centered automobile and still clutching the cellphone to his ear, he ran up the steps and pounded on the outer door.

He punched End on his phone and stuffed it into his pocket as he saw Krycek come out to meet him. Krycek said nothing, merely turning and leading Mulder into the bedroom quickly, where Scully was laid out on the bed and covered with the afghan from the sofa.

Mulder rushed to her side and grabbed her arms. So pale. So motionless. His throat closed and his teeth ground together painfully. He felt for her pulse on both wrist and pulmonary artery and was only somewhat reassured to find it on both. It was so weak.

He leaned in to check for breathing and felt the tiny reassuring puffs of air, the stuff life was made from. He leaned in closely, savoring the sound of her breathing. He gently leaned his head against her chest and closed his eyes, revelling in the sound of her fluttering heart.

He looked up to see Krycek leading the paramedics in and quickly jumped to the side as he watched them mimick his actions, with none of the delicacy and twice the speed. They threw back the afghan and everyone but Krycek seemed shocked to find that she was nude.

"She was in the bathtub," Krycek offered in the way of an explanation. Mulder swallowed his reply and the pain behind it.

The medics nodded, all business once again, and placed an oxygen mask over her nose. They transferred her to a gurney and covered her with a shock blanket, barking questions at both men. Mulder was surprised and again, somewhat grateful, to hear Krycek offer the answers quickly and efficiently, filling them in on the situation as they knew it, and offering them both the half full highball glass and the medication bottle.

They took both and rushed the evidence and their patient out to the ambulance. Mulder and Krycek rushed to keep up with the medics.

"What hospital?" They both asked in unison. They looked at each other, startled, then turned their attention to the driver.

"D.C. General. Fall in behind us." Mulder felt an irrational gratitude at having his question actually answered and rushed to his car. As he was reaching for the door handle, he saw Krycek hurrying across the street to his own vehicle. For an insane moment, he considered offering to let the other man ride with him, then, wondering at his own loss of grip on reality, dismissed the idea and jumped into his car, screeching out in pursuit of the ambulance which was now pulling away from the curb.

He glanced in his rearview mirror and watched as Krycek's black sedan squealed away from the curb and fell in right behind him.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 8

Mulder pulled into the Emergency Room parking lot and watched Krycek find a spot several spaces down from him. He fought the strange urge to wait for the other man to catch up with him and instead strode through the automatic doors and into the Emergency intake.

He tried to follow the rushing hospital staff as they took Scully down the hall, but they willfully and aggressively ignored him, stopping only long enough to tell him to go have a seat in the waiting room and they would be out when they had news. Gritting his teeth against the frustration, he made his way out to the bustling area. He noticed Krycek had already taken a seat right next to the doors. Looking around, he saw that most of the seats were occupied by other patients in various stages of distress. He saw a seat across from Krycek and he sank into it with a sigh.

She would be all right. She had to be. She just would, and that was that. No sense even worrying about it, because it was all going to be OK. He kept up this litany with himself, staring at his hands in his lap, reading the chart prohibiting cell phones then turning his off, and finally, settling his gaze on the man sitting across from him. Krycek was looking up furtively at him from time to time between glances at the door and staring at his boots.

"Mulder..."

"Krycek..."

They spoke at exactly the same time. Mulder snorted, becoming less entertained by that occurrence every time it happened.

"Listen, Mulder, I just want to tell you..." Krycek began.

"Thank you." Mulder said it quickly, looking Krycek straight in the eye.

Krycek's look of surprise and amusement was almost comical. Mulder watched his eyelashes flutter and his mouth open and close, like a guppy gasping for air. He never took his eyes off him.

Krycek finally seemed to find his voice. "For what?" He asked, not bothering to disguise his confusion.

"For calling me. For being there." Mulder paused, swallowed, and continued. "For taking care of her." He couldn't get over the way Krycek's eyes widened and blinked, expressing his ongoing shock. He'd never noticed how green they were before.

"You're...welcome," Krycek finally gasped out, obviously finding himself with a serious lack for verbal expression tonight. "I...I care about her, Mulder."

"I know you do." Mulder continued looking into the other man's eyes, becoming fascinated with the extraordinarily rare and captivating array of emotions he was being allowed to witness.

"I do," Krycek almost whispered. Mulder finally broke his gaze and looked down at his hands once again, struck by the absolutely unreal circumstances in which he found himself.

They were both silent for a few moments, then Krycek spoke again.

"That's why I..." he stopped, and Mulder looked up again, meeting that intense green gaze with his own. He shook off the impossible impression that those eyes looking into his were sparkling just slightly with unshed tears. He raised his eyebrows, gently encouraging the other man to continue.

He heard Krycek sigh. "That's why I'll step out of the way, Mulder. If that's what you need. If that's what you want. I'll leave this hospital right now and never come back, and she never has to know I was here, and she can hate me and love you." He dropped his eyes, staring intently at the floor.

This time there was no question. Those fathomless eyes were filling with tears. Mulder was struck again with the amazing depth of emotion his (former?) mortal enemy was displaying.

Is that what he wanted? To have Krycek just walk out on him and on Scully, leaving them to sort out everything that had happened between the three of them? Would that hurt Scully more? Did Scully *need* this man? The thought made him ache deep inside. He wanted Scully to need *him*, not Krycek. But then, her actions tonight proved that she did need him. In fact, she had needed him and he had walked out on her and Krycek had been there to save her.

Why had Krycek been there?

"Why were you there?" The question seemed to hit Krycek from out of the blue, and Mulder waited patiently as he struggled to compose an answer.

"I...I guess I wanted to be sure she was okay," he began, looking up only occasionally from beneath lowered lashes. "After we talked, I...saw her, and she told me how much she loved you. I care about her, Mulder. So I wanted her to have what she wanted." He swallowed and Mulder watched his adams apple bob with obvious agitation as he finished. "You."

The words hit Mulder with surprising force. Scully had confessed that she wanted him, but he hadn't pictured her being serious enough about her feelings for him to share them with Krycek. And then to have this man, whom he had always seen as a heartless killer, displaying emotion that belied deep affection for Scully, and in the same breath claiming that because of this affection he wanted her to be with another man...well it was all completely dizzying for Mulder.

"So you...you were there to make sure that we..." he let the sentence trail off, not knowing exactly how to end it.

"Yeah, Mulder," Krycek ended it for him. "I wanted you to end up together."

"But why? I don't understand...if you care for her, then why do you want me to have her?"

Krycek's voice sounded somewhat exasperated now. "I told you, Mulder. I care. I care about her. And..." He stopped, then looked Mulder straight in the eyes, stealing his breath away with the intensity. "I care about you."

"What do you mean you care about me?" Mulder asked, feeling like the only kid in class who just wasn't getting it.

"Dammit, Mulder. I care about you! Why is that so hard for you to believe? I mean, know I've done some really shitty things," he paused, then appeared to pull himself together. "But I explained myself to you. I told you, Mulder. I didn't do those things to intentionally fuck up your life. You just got in the way."

Mulder's eyes narrowed at the coldness of the words, but before he could offer a retort, Krycek continued.

"I know how that sounds. But I tried to explain. I know things you don't. Which means I have to do things you wouldn't. I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry for being what I am." He took a deep breath, then leveled that gaze at Mulder again, the one that usually accompanied a loaded gun being thrust in his face. "I care about you. Whether you ever choose to believe it or not, that is your precious fucking truth." Krycek got up from his chair and walked off down the hall.

Mulder watched him go, unable to do or say anything in the face of such raw disclosure.

Krycek cared about him. That was a totally new and totally weird piece of information for him to add to his collection. It didn't fit with much of what he already had stored in there, but he also couldn't doubt the sincerity of such a painful, dangerous confession. And Krycek's actions tonight had certainly shown a side of him that Mulder would never in a million twisted fantasies have thought him capable of. And if the rest of what he was saying was true, he was willing to sacrifice something very special to him just to make Scully and Mulder happy.

Mulder swam in the new knowledge, trying to make it fit. He was still mulling over it when a doctor came out, lowering the mask from his face.

"Dana Scully?" he asked, looking over the gathered throng in the waiting room. Mulder jumped up.

"I'm with Dana Scully. How is she?"

"Are you family?" asked the doctor.

God, not this again. "I'm her partner," he said, letting the doctor interpret that any way he liked.

Apparently satisfied, the doctor continued. "Ms. Scully's going to be fine. She took an apparent slight overdose of Vicadin, and washed it down with several ounces of alcohol. The combination of the alcohol with the narcotics in her system slowed her breathing and heartrate and nearly put her into a coma. We were able to arrest it in time, however, by intubating her and giving her charcoal. We've got her heartrate back up and she's resting normally."

Mulder let out a deep sigh of relief. They had found her in time. Thanks to Krycek, they had found her in time.

"Can I see her?"

The doctor's eyes were kind, but his tone was stern. "She needs to rest. Why don't you go home for a few hours." He patted Mulder's arm. "It's almost 2AM. You can come back in the morning."

Mulder nodded, fighting the urge to flash his badge and demand to be led to Scully's bedside.

He thanked the doctor, then turned to look for Krycek. He didn't want to leave without updating him on Scully's status. It was certainly the least he could do, given the fact that Krycek's presence and quick thinking had been responsible for saving her.

He walked down the hall he'd seen Krycek go down, and after taking several turns and asking a few staff if they'd seen a dark-haired man dressed all in black, ended up finding him in a deserted day surgery waiting room. He walked into the almost dark room and took a seat across from the triple agent. Krycek didn't look up.

"The doctor came out." Mulder looked at Krycek, trying to get the other man to raise his face. Krycek spoke, but didn't look up from the floor.

"How is she?" His voice sounded hoarse and tired.

"She's going to be fine," Mulder said, leaning in to get Krycek's attention. "Thanks to you."

At that, Krycek looked up briefly, then returned to studying his boots.

"Krycek...Alex," Mulder started. Now he had his attention. Krycek looked up, levelling that scary, intense gaze straight into Mulder's. Despite the palpable ferocity behind it, Mulder didn't flinch or look away. "You saved her life. You were there and I wasn't." He bit back the pain it caused him to admit it. "If you hadn't been there, she probably would have slipped into a coma. As it is, they were able to bring her out, and she's resting now."

The two men stared at each other intently for what felt like several minutes. Mulder had to remind himself to breathe, and he watched the other man's chest rise and fall in shaking rhythym.

Mulder broke the silence. "So...thanks."

Krycek nodded.

"They said we can visit her tomorrow," Mulder began, and he watched the pain flare behind those green eyes for just an instant, and watched, captivated, as it was swallowed up by the trademark Krycek ice-glare. "I think she would want to see you," he finished, surprised that he didn't feel more like choking on the words. Maybe because, like Krycek, he just wanted more than anything to make Scully happy.

Now it was relief, and something close to happiness, that Mulder saw flicker briefly behind those enigmatic green eyes.

"So I guess I'll go home now," Mulder said, rising from the soft upholstered chair.

"Mulder..."

Mulder turned.

"Thanks." Krycek's eyes had gone softer now, and Mulder wondered how many different looks the man had...how many Kryceks there really were.

Mulder nodded and walked out the door.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Visiting hours at the hospital began at 8AM. Mulder was there at 7:54. A nurse looked up from the station to tell him it wasn't quite time yet, but seeing the storm brewing in the tall, dark, brooding man's expression, thought better of it and returned to her charts.

Mulder strode purposefully to Scully's room and steeled himself before knocking on the partially-closed door. It opened under the pressure of his knuckles. Scully was at the mirror putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She looked up as the door swung open, startled.

"Mulder!"

"Hi." Mulder felt in internal swell of joy at the contrast between the pale, deathlike vision he'd been greeted with when he'd arrived at her apartment last night and the vital, carefully lipsticked woman he now couldn't take his eyes off of. He watched as Scully marred that perfect lipcolor just the slightest bit as she bit her bottom lip.

"What are you doing here?" she finally said, with equal measures of irritation and confusion.

Mulder swallowed. "I...just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine," Scully replied, not looking at him now, but smoothing her jacket down over her hips.

Mulder nodded. "Um, okay then. Well, I guess I'll see you later then."

Scully nodded. "Later."

Mulder turned and walked to the open door, then stopped, and bowed his head. Finally, he reached out and gently closed the door, then turned to face Scully once again.

"Scully...why?" His voice was soft, barely audible.

"Why what?" Scully asked, with a tremor of hesitation hiding behind her words. She bent to her bag and pretended to rearrange the few papers inside.

"You're a doctor, Scully!" Mulder's voice increased in strength. "Why would you do something like that?"

Scully didn't answer, looking everywhere but at him.

"Was it..." Mulder swallowed painfully. "because I left?" He looked at Scully's face intently, and though she still said nothing, the single tear that made its way down one cheek said it all. That tear washed all the strength out of Mulder's knees and they nearly buckled.

"God, Scully...don't you know? I left because I loved you too much to stay!"

Now Scully whirled to face him, the tears beginning to run freely. "Oh that's just great, Mulder! That's a really wonderful way to show someone how much you love them! Let them bare their heart to you and then walk out on them!"

"You don't understand!" Mulder's hands were clenched at his sides.

"No you're right! I don't understand, Mulder! How is that loving me? Tell me that!"

Mulder struggled to breathe steadily, knowing this was the moment of truth. Knowing that what he said now would sculpt their future together, and they would have to live with whatever he created.

He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, but deep. "It's loving you because I love you enough not to want *me* for you. It's loving you because your safety and wellbeing are more important to me than the way I can't breathe without you. It's loving you because I want you so bad that when I let myself feel it, I'm afraid of what I'll do." His gaze dropped to the floor at her feet.

Her heard her deep, shaky breathing and tried to close out the way the knowledge of her pain caused his body to ache. It wasn't good for him to love her this much, and it damn sure wasn't good for her.

"Don't you understand, Mulder?" Scully looked up into his face, entreating him to face her. Unable ever to resist her, he did. "You're concerned about my wellbeing, but as much as you can't breathe without me," she smiled her sad, shining smile. "I can't live without you."

He stared at her and his breaths came hard and fast. His view of her gently smiling lips became blurred as his eyes filled with tears. He realized that, as bad as he was for her, he could not make a choice that would so obviously bring her pain. He decided the only thing he could really do, was do his best to be good for her, and at that moment, he swore that her happiness would always come first, regardless of what it meant for him, his guilt, his fears, or his quest.

Finally, he allowed himself to smile back. He nearly staggered backward at the radiance his smile called forth from Scully's own. He took those few, chasm-like steps across the highly polished linoleum, and with a feeling like coming up for air after a high dive, enfolded Scully in his arms and squeezed her tight against him.

The heat and pleasure and childlike happiness rushed through him, and he savored the warm, soft feeling of her heart beating against his chest, smelling her hair and feeling the heartachingly delicious sensation of Scully's arms wrapping around him and squeezing back. then, reluctant to let go of her, but needing to talk seriously, he brought his arms up from around her torso and cupped her face, turning it up into his own, her lips just inches from his.

He gazed down into her eyes, still shining from the tears she was no longer shedding, and couldn't stop the smile that seemed to be permanently frozen in place. He willed himself to control it, wanting her to know how serious he was. As his own smile faded, he watched hers slowly vanish as well.

"Scully, I want you to know this. I love you. I love you as a partner, a best friend, and a lover." He watched a sadness pass over her features at his words, but pressed on, determined to make her understand. "Yes, a lover. I know we've never slept together, but I've made love to you a thousand times, in a thousand ways, for the entire seven years I've known you." He watched as Scully's lips parted in surprise at his confession, and his own lips felt the most undeniable of invitations to descend, but he breathed back the impulse, intent on finishing.

"I also know that you have given yourself to Alex Krycek," he continued. Scully's pain was obvious now and Mulder brushed his thumbs across her cheeks, hating that he had to say words that he knew would bring her pain, but needing to get everything clear before they began their new life. "And I know that Alex...cares about you. Scully, he's the one who found you. If not for Alex Krycek..." he couldn't finish. "I owe him everything for that, Scully. And so I want you to know, that your relationship with him is your business, and doesn't change the way I feel about you." He breathed out a heavy sigh of relief as he unburdened himself of that weighty truth.

Scully's lips trembled. "Mulder...I don't know what to say..." Her tears began anew, and Mulder brushed them away with his thumbs, impatient for her to finish speaking so he could finally claim her lips.

"You don't have to say anything, Scully," he said. It was true, and when Mulder realized that a response was still not forthcoming and certainly not necessary, he decided he couldn't wait any longer.

Bending his head, he brought her face to his with his hands, and lowered his lips to hers, finally completing a mating dance that had begun seven years ago in a dark, windowless basement office.

Mulder heard a high grunting noise as his tongue flicked lightly at Scully's lips, begging them to open, and he realized with a start that it was coming from him. Scully's mouth opened under his with an answering whimper, and the kiss's tenderness was immediately consumed by a starving greed.

Mulder wanted to moan aloud at the intensity of the feelings both emotional and physical that were flooding his body, but he channeled that energy into sending a silent message of love and longing to the woman he was devouring. He was amazed and thrilled when he heard her little whimpers increase, and he nearly forgot where he was and started backing her toward the hospital bed.

Controlling the impulse to do so is what broke the spell of the kiss, and he pulled away with deep reluctance, placing his lips just to side of Scully's hot, moist mouth.

"Scully..." he gasped out against her.

"What?" She sounded irritated and turned her lips toward his again.

"No, Scully...not here. Please." Mulder closed his eyes against the pounding waves of desire that were shaking his body.

Scully, realizing he was right, stepped away from him, her whole body trembling with the effort. She took a moment to regain a small measure of her composure, smoothing the hair away from her tear-stained, sweaty face. When she had brought her breathing close to normal, she looked up into his face. "So," she said. "What do we do now?"

"My place?" Mulder tried to make it sound light, and at the same time sincere. He was relieved when Scully rewarded him with a toothy grin and nodded.

"Um, do you have to wait to get a release from your doctor?" Mulder asked, his brain beginning to function somewhat.

Scully's smile widened. "Nope. I'm free."

It was Mulder's turn to grin. "Great. Let's blow this joint." He picked up her overnight bag, not even allowing himself a moment of thought about how he and Krycek had stuffed her clothes into it last night, and placed his hand at the small of her back to lead her out. Then, obeying an impulse he'd always harbored and always squelched, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him tightly, making it very difficult for either of them to walk.

Scully made no effort to free herself from this impractical position, and they exited the hospital room, stumbling slightly from their mismatched strides and heights in such close proximity.

They both felt like swooning teenagers in love. Then they both saw him at the same time.

Alex Krycek came around the corner, carrying a dozen red roses.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Alex Krycek froze in the middle of the hospital hallway, at a complete loss as to what to do with the bouquet of roses he had impulsively overpaid for at the hospital gift shop downstairs. It was obvious from the way they were wrapped around each other that Fox Mulder and Dana Scully had finally said the words they had always wanted and needed to say to one another. Alex was both pained and thrilled to see them so obviously drunk with each other.

Suddenly realizing how vulnerable he must look, he schooled his face to the blank, neutral expression that worked for nearly any sticky situation. He was surprised to note a twinge of both joy and disappointment as Scully pulled away from Mulder, giving his hand a squeeze. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but there was a quiet exchange, then Mulder bent to kiss her and turned and walked in the opposite direction down the hall, giving Alex one backward glance before he left.

Scully smiled and walked toward him. He felt glued to the floor.

"Alex," she said, coming to face him.

"Hi," he rasped.

Scully took his hand, the one not holding the bouquet of roses. "Mulder told me it was you," she said, brushing her fingers over his hand and sending electrical current straight to his groin.

"I owe you my life now." She let the words hang in the air between them, their potential meanings creating a cacophony of hope and wonder in Alex's battered mind. He had no words to express himself, but instead thrust his other hand forward, finally offering her his gift. His throat constricted as he watched her face light up in a full smile just for him. She reached out and took the roses, breathing deeply of their scent, eyes closed with rapturous pleasure.

He just stared at her face, feeling his body react to the reminders of seeing her face contorted in this type of ecstasy before, and wanting to re-enact those scenes as quickly as possible. He shifted from one foot to the other, his jeans becoming increasingly uncomfortable. God, what this woman did to him.

"They're absolutely beautiful," she breathed. Then she squeezed his hand as she had Mulder's, and Alex allowed himself a small joy at being let in on their glorious world, if only just a little.

"Alex, I need to take care of some things," Scully began, her face getting shy.

Things like Mulder, thought Krycek. But he didn't say anything, and only nodded.

"But I need to talk to you, too," she finished, unconsciously brushing one of the roses against her cheek in a little indulgence of her heightened sensual awareness.

Krycek nodded again, understanding that he had already been given the gift of her body and her trust, and now he had to let her decide where she was going to allow him to fit in all of this new world.

He pulled his hand back from hers gently, then without consciously deciding to, found his fingers brushing against her cheek. "I'll be in touch, Scully." He pulled away from her and turned to make his way to the elevators. As he neared the end of the hall, he heard her soft voice, barely carrying.

"You know where I live."

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 9

Mulder made his way back out to his car, amazed that the thought of Scully speaking soft words to another man filled him not with jealousy or anger or resentment, but happiness at her being able to have whatever made her happy. He shook his head at the craziness of that thought, and chalked it up to just another twist in the always unpredictable events of the life of Spooky Mulder.

He turned his car toward Arlington, and felt a smile curl its way across his face as he rounded a corner and passed by a florist he had seen nearly every day for seven years.

Today was different. Today he would stop.

As he pulled into a parking spot, he thrilled at doing something so ordinary, and yet, in a way that no one else besides himself and Scully would ever understand, so extraordinary. He pulled the keys from his ignition and tossed them into the air before securing them in his pocket and pulling open the door to the flower shop. So this is what is was to have a spring in his step.

He was almost knocked back into the street by the warring heady scents of fresh flowers. He felt what little residual tension he'd been holding onto from the events of the night before fade from his body and mind as he breathed deeply of the strangely healing scent.

"Can I help you?"

Mulder felt himself smiling giddily at the 30-something woman as she crossed the shop and stopped in front of him.

"Yeah, I need to get some flowers," he replied, briefly feeling his mind skitter around the thought that all the times he'd purchased flowers for a very long time, they had been in times of Scully's illness, or the deaths of loved ones. He brushed such thoughts away and let the calming influence of the flowers work their magic.

The shopkeeper smiled. "What kind of arrangement are you looking for?"

Mulder frowned. "I don't know," he said finally.

"Well," the woman replied. "Do you know what the recipient's favorite flowers are?"

That was one of the many things he had still to learn about his partner. "No," he answered.

The woman nodded. "Okay then. Well, different flowers have different meanings. What type of occasion is this?"

Mulder's smile returned. Now there was a question to boggle the mind. Well, you see, I'm confessing my eternal love to a woman who was assigned to me seven years ago to destroy me, and instead ended up saving me and giving me a reason to live. Our love is kind of against the rules at work, and puts us at a dangerous disadvantage in our fight against secret government agendas, including the ongoing international conspiracy to deny the existence of the threat of extraterrestrial domination. To make things more interesting, this woman is also seeing my former mortal enemy, and I find myself not bothered by this because of how much he cares for her, how well he takes care of her and how happy he seems to make her. And tonight, after years of chaste forehead kisses, one almost-kiss interrupted by a genetically- altered insect and one short, passionless kiss shared after chasing zombies on what math geeks assert was NOT the eve of the real millenium, I am going to make love to her.

He decided to keep it simple.

"I want to show her how much I love her." Even this made his head swim with its rawness, its newness.

The shopkeeper's smile warmed. "Sounds like a job for roses," she said. "Now we just need to figure out what kind. You see," she continued, leading him to a cooler splashed with the colors of the rainbow rendered in silky splendor," Each color of the rose signifies something different." She reached out and plucked out a pink rose, extending it to Mulder. He took it, feeling sheepish. "Pink signifies an innocent love. Like a crush, or a young new infatuation." He considered the half-open bud for half a second and handed it back, shaking his head.

She placed it back into the cooler and drew out a yellow one. "Yellow is the color of deep friendship-love." Mulder didn't even bother taking that one from her outstretched fingers. It had been done to death and back. He smirked and shook his head again, more adamantly this time.

The woman grinned and returned the flower to its vase. She pulled out a white one. "White is the color of purity and loyalty. A promise that she can always rely on you to be there."

Mulder considered this one for a moment, turning it in his hand, then handed it back with a slight shake of his head. It just didn't say enough. The woman smiled knowingly and put it back.

Finally she pulled forth a long, deep red rose and placed it into his hand. When she spoke, her voice was lower and her words made their way between smiling lips. "Red roses signify a deep, sensual love characterized by strong passion and desire." Mulder stared intently into the unfolding blossom as he wondered how much Krycek knew about the meaning of the color of flowers.

He almost rejected the red rose too, not wanting Scully to think he was trying to one-up Krycek with his choice. But then he considered the odd nature of their relationship for the umpteenth time that day.

He wanted Scully to know that he loved, needed, and wanted her. He also didn't want her to feel awkward about her choice to make love to Alex Krycek. In a strange, still not completely understood way, Krycek and he were sharing the love of this amazing woman, and he wanted her to know that he was okay with that, if it was what it took to make her happy.

"The red ones," he said finally. Thinking back to Krycek's appearance in the hospital, he clarified, "a dozen, long stemmed, wrapped in green paper."

He wondered if Scully would catch on to the multiple meanings of his choice of arrangements, and remembering when he had given her a strange little keychain a few years back, decided that probably she would. He paid for his purchase and took them out to his car and laid them gently on the passenger seat.

He made a few more stops before making his way to his apartment. Scooping up his purchases, he struggled to fit his key into his lock without dropping any of the bags or the bouquet. He made it inside his door with a sigh of relief and kicked the door shut behind him.

He began preparations in anticipation of Scully's visit.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Scully climbed into her cab, relieved at the way Mulder had not given her any trouble about her decision to catch her own ride home, and thrilled at the way his face had lit up when she had promised to come to his place later tonight, after going back to her apartment to change. She also wondered at the ease with which Mulder had allowed her to go to Alex.

She raised the roses to her nose and inhaled deeply, the cut blossoms already filling the interior of the taxi with their intoxicating aroma. She smiled at the thought of a new Alex Krycek, struck speechless by her gratitude at his saving her life. She felt more gratitude at the thought that her momentary lapse of reason had given him an opportunity to at least in part make up for the pain he had caused both Mulder and her. She hoped that it would allow him to let go of some of the guilt and sense of responsibility that he carried around, as well as let her let go of the corresponding guilt that plagued her when by accepting him into her life, she effectively absolved him of the harm he'd done to the people she loved. Though she felt ashamed to her soul at having done something so weak and stupid, she thought maybe it was a way for them all to leave the past behind and work with what they had been offered in the present.

She settled back into the cab, feeling dizzy with the head rush of going from thinking that the only men that would ever want her were psychos and naive strangers, to having two such intense, strong, beautiful and passionate men vying for the chance to make her happy.

Life was certainly full of extreme possibilities. Dana Scully planned from now on to make the most of them.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Alex Krycek drove to his usual safehouse apartment in the city, trying not to feel anxious about cancelling the lease and getting something more permanent, more pleasant. He wanted to be close to both of them in order to keep them safe as they increased their vulnerability by making their love official, and he needed to be available should she or Mulder express any desire to see him.

Stamping down the persistent reminders of how much danger he was putting himself in by settling into any one place too long, he contacted a real estate agent and told her his specifications for a place to live. She agreed to call him back with some possibilities to look at after checking the lists, and he hung up the phone and turned his car toward an area Linens 'n Things.

Alex Krycek had some home furnishings to buy.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Scully checked her makeup and hair once more before stepping out of her car and making her way up the steps of Mulder's apartment building. She wore the spaghetti-strap navy blue silk dress that the Cigarette Smoking Man had given her, rationalizing that it wasn't the gorgeous dress's fault it was paid for by fingers stinking from 40-odd years of nicotine and deception any more than it was poor Queequeg's fault he had been forced to feast on his former mistress's remains.

Besides, she never had any intention of telling Mulder where the dress came from.

She stepped out of the elevator on unsteady legs, made even more so by the four-inch heels on her strappy sandals. She wanted to be able to reach him, after all. Plus they made her legs look sexy and she knew it.

She knocked on the door. "Mulder, it's me."

"Come in Scully," called Mulder's disembodied voice from inside. She was secretly grateful for his avoidance of an awkward greeting at the door and she turned the knob and stepped through into his darkened living room.

There were five or so lit pillar candles scattered throughout the room, giving off a cinnamon scent and adding a sensual glow to everything. Scully smiled as she realized what trouble Mulder had gone to in making his apartment more romantic. Not that it was necessary. She wanted him so bad she would have been willing to throw him down on the Italian tile in his hallway and take him right there, hiking her silk dress up around her hips and yanking his erection through the opening in his boxers.

Instead, she made her way to the couch. She was just about to be seated when Mulder came through the doorway from his kitchen. Scully felt what little control she had over her bodily reactions slide totally out of her hands as she took in his long legs encased in denim, and his long-sleeved black silk dress shirt, open to just above the navel. Fuck me now. And he wasn't wearing any shoes. Mercy.

As she closed her mouth quickly and swallowed back the drool, she realized Mulder was extending a champagne flute to her, with another in his other hand.

The sight of the glasses made Scully's face flush with remembered shame and embarassment and she dropped her eyes to his feet. It gave her the excuse to let them travel back up his body, slowly, from toe to head, breathless at his barefooted beauty. Nothing says loving like a barefooted man cooking dinner for you, thought Scully. She looked away from the champagne glasses, feeling the new prescription ibuprofen dulling the pain in her arm. Even though it was not a narcotic and there was no contraindication between it and alcohol, Scully was reluctant to take a drink.

Mulder stepped forward, pressing the glass into her hand. "It's sparkling cider, Scully," he said with a gentle smile. How did he do that? She smiled back and finally took the drink from his outstretched hand. "Don't torture yourself any more, Scully," he said, and she raised the glass to her lips. Raising his own, he stopped, lips poised to drink, and said," Here's to letting go."

They both drank. Mulder then reached forward and took the glass out of Scully's hand and placed it, along with his own, on the coffee table behind him. She watched as he turned to face her, then held her breath as he silently stepped up to within less than a foot. He snaked his right arm around behind her back, and placed his left on her right shoulder blade. Then, in a move that honestly *did* take her breath away, he hooked one bare foot behind her leg and knocked her off balance, backward into his arms.

Scully panicked for a moment and almost pulled a hand-to-hand combat retaliation move on him, then melted completely as his lips swiftly descended on hers and she was swept into his masterful kiss.

The loss of control of her balance, along with the heady experience of once again drowing in Mulder's kisses, combined to make Scully feel as if she were floating, anchored only to the world by the mouth making love to hers.

She felt herself moving backward and being lowered onto the leather couch, and surrendered herself totally to Mulder's control. She was about to grab him around the head and yank him down on top of her when she heard the oven buzzer go off. The cool air rushed against her sweaty, overheated body as Mulder pulled up and away from her, settling her back into the cushions with another kiss.

"Be right back," he said and made his way to the kitchen doorway. He stopped and turned halfway to face her. "I don't have a table, but just sit there and I'll serve you." He made his voice low and sensuous and Scully shivered at the implied double meaning of the words. She wondered if they were going to make it to the main course.

As Mulder came back through into the living room supporting a serving tray holding what looked and smelled like spicy Tandoori chicken, Scully's libidonous desires became somewhat replaced by her more common appetites. Damn that chicken smelled good.

"Mulder, you cooked!" Scully's voice was both shocked and pleased.

"Uh, no I didn't," Mulder answered with a sheepish grin. "I have a really great corner deli. But I reheated it myself," he added, setting it on the coffee table before her with a flourish.

Scully nodded, giving him one of her most loving smiles. Of course it was take-out. Scully had never seen him attempt anything more complicated than heating up a can of Campbell's soup.

Scully watched Mulder tear off pieces of spicy chicken, slippery with grease and juice, and bring them to his lips, licking them clean afterward. She felt herself getting so wet she was afraid she would leave a spot on the couch when she got up. Good thing it's leather, she thought. Relatively waterproof. She tore off slick, savory bites of her own and was thrilled with the way Mulder's eyes followed her fingers from plate to mouth and back again. She licked her own fingers delicately for extra effect, and noticed by the way he licked his own lips that it was not lost on him.

She was so relieved when their plates were empty.

"Mulder that was fantastic," she said, wiping her fingers carefully on the napkin, amazed that she had gotten none of the delicious concoction on her silk dress.

"You haven't seen dessert yet," Mulder breathed.

Hoowah. Scully gifted him with what she hoped was her sultriest smile. She was slightly dissappointed when he rose from the couch and went back into the kitchen.

Damn. There really is a dessert? I was hoping for something a little less calorie-laden, she thought, admonishing herself for not being able to make it through a meal Mulder had obviously put a lot of thought into without wanting to chuck it all in the garbage and throw him to the floor.

She smoothed her skirt down over trembling thighs and waited patiently.

Mulder came through the door carrying a large bowl of chocolate mousse. Just one. No spoons.

"I'm out of clean bowls," he said, looking up at her from under lowered lashes, clearly testing her reaction to this new development.

Scully's lips curled into a lascivious grin and she ran her tongue all the way around her mouth. "We'll make do."

She watched as Mulder's eyes darkened visibly and heard his breathing get shaky and shallow. He stood there, bowl of chocolate confection in hand, saying nothing. She waited for him to make the next move.

"Um, Scully," he said, his voice clearly trembling. "I never really thought about where we might...eat this. I mean, somehow my brain never got past the part where you let me...do it." He lowered his eyes to the floor, then levelled them back at her, grinning.

"I think these things are generally done in the bedroom, Mulder," Scully said, rising from the couch. "You do have a bed, don't you?"

Mulder laughed nervously. "Yeah, I have a bed, Scully," he said and he gestured with his head. "It's through there."

Scully said nothing more and made her way to his bedroom, stopping inside the door and moving aside to let him enter. She watched him walk in, set the mousse on the bed, and close the door. He walked back over to the bed and looked nervously, hungrily, from the dessert on the bed to the one standing next to it.

Scully was getting impatient to get this show on the road. She reached around to her side and unzipped her dress slowly. She watched with heated amusement as Mulder's mouth literally dropped open. He was so cute when he was desperate with lust. She shrugged her shoulders out from under the microthin straps and let the dress slip to the floor. She heard Mulder's breath leave him in a loud gasp, and quickly bent and slid her panties down her legs and stepped out of them. She decided to leave the sandals on. She really felt sexy in them. "Where do you want me?" she asked, sounding calmer than she felt.

Mulder's mouth moved in soundless words and he blinked several times. Finally, unable to do anything more, he pointed to the bed with shaking hands.

Scully frowned. "Mulder, chocolate will stain this bedspread permanently. You might want to put an old sheet or something over it so you don't have to throw it out."

Mulder finally recovered the power of speech. "Scully, these chocolate stains will be the most beautiful thing in his apartment. Now get on the bed."

Scully smiled at his commanding tone. Now that was more like it. She climbed up on the bed and turned around, lying back on her forearms. She stared up at him and raised her eyebrows as if to say, "Well?"

Mulder started forward and scooped up a big fingerfull of mousse and leaned over the side of the bed.

"Mulder!" Scully's voice was stern.

"What?" Mulder sounded concerned, afraid he had mistaken her acquiesence to his fantasy.

She quickly ran her gaze from his head to his toes. "Take your clothes off, Mulder."

Mulder sighed, relieved, and looked at the generous glob of chocolate on his finger. Scully saw his uncertainty and opened her mouth and closed her eyes.

She waited for just a moment, then felt Mulder's finger enter her mouth, heavily laden with sweet, creamy decadence. She swirled her tongue around his finger hungrily and heard him groan in response. She sucked it from base to tip quickly, letting it go with a quiet smack. She could hear Mulder breathing heavily next to her, and she opened her eyes smiled, licking her lips. There's nothing like good chocolate...except maybe Fox Mulder's fingers.

Mulder brought his licked finger to his mouth and sucked it himself once, then quickly shucked his jeans, underwear and dress shirt. He stood naked for a moment, staring at Scully's body, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His fat, beautiful cock was standing almost parallel to his abdomen and it moved with his breathing. Scully felt a gush of fluid between her legs as a convulsion wracked her internally from clit to womb.

"Get over here," she growled.

Mulder obeyed.

She watched as with trembling fingers, he scooped up another fingerful of dessert. She watched his eyes, trying to guess where he would deposit it. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and painted featherlight circles around both nipples. Scully's head fell back and she moaned, her breasts aching with the torturously light touch. She lifted her chest higher, silently begging him to clean it off. Her eyes fluttered closed, unable to bear the maddening sight of Mulder lowering to his task.

She gasped loudly as his hot mouth came down on her breast and traced firm circles around her aureola, licking up all the chocolate thoroughly, then sucking her painfully hard nipples between tightly pursed lips. Scully moaned and pressed her body upward, desperate to be sucked, bitten, touched, fucked, and filled.

Mulder teased her unmercifully, moving to the other breast with his tongue, while replacing his absentee mouth with his fingers at the first breast. He was laying on his stomach up against her side now, supported on one arm, and she could feel the hard heat of his erection stretched out against her thigh. She rubbed herself against it, shivering at the silky slide of it on her heated flesh. She felt him press against her, humping her leg sensuously.

When Mulder had thoroughly smeared and cleaned both breasts twice, he pulled away from her and Scully opened her eyes to see why he was leaving. He levelled an impossibly dark, hot gaze at her and scooped up a large mound of chocolate mousse, using all of his fingers. Never taking his eyes from hers, he reached between her legs and smeared it quickly over the entire area.

Scully bucked up into his hand at the tantalizing contact, but he withdrew it quickly, smiling at her eagerness. He extended his still-sticky hand toward her lips, and she opened her mouth and sucked all of his fingers into it at once, moaning and sucking them clean with none of the patience she had shown earlier. She heard Mulder's breathing get louder. Then he pulled his hands away, sucking each one clean himself one at a time. He placed one hand on either side of her and scooted himself further down her body.

Scully's entire body tensed as she felt Mulder's hot breath puffing over her sticky, smeared sex. She held her breath, waiting to see what his next move would be, and closed her eyes, again unable to bear the mindaltering sight of Mulder's mouth perched over her pussy.

Breathe. Breathe. God just do it, Mulder!

"AHHHH!" She cried out, as suddenly and with delicious intent, Mulder's tongue stabbed between her folds and slurped her from bottom to top.

She heard him smack his lips and swallow deeply and couldn't help but smile. Her smile melted into an "O" of pleasure as he began to lap her pussy in earnest, laving up all the sticky mousse and causing Scully's body to replace it with a much more savory dessert for him.

Scully heard herself making a continuous, deep moaning sound as she felt that hot, flickering, lapping tongue clean what felt like every last molecule of chocolate dessert from her flesh. The slippery feeling of his mouth sliding in mousse was replaced by the more intense feeling of it slipping around in her own juices, and she was suddenly driven to a higher frequency of hum as she felt one long, graceful finger push itself inside her, the tongue at her clit never breaking rhythm for a second.

"Noooo..." she moaned. She felt him raise his lips from her sex and looked down to see him resting his chin buried in her glistening wet curls, his finger stroking slowly in and out of her as he looked up at her.

"You don't want this?" Mulder asked teasingly, his tongue licking the juice from around his mouth with obvious relish.

Scully growled. "That's not what I...I just can't take this!" She dropped her head back onto the pillow.

"Yes you can," Mulder said firmly, and lowered his tongue back down into her hot slit, flickering it quickly up against first one side of her clit then other, and pressing in a second finger, crooking it to stroke the upper wall of her vagina.

Oh, God. The G-spot. Scully lost all capacity for speech and felt herself mashing her hips up into Mulder's face, hungry for every bit of tongue and finger she could get, writhing and moaning in a continuous stream of sound. Mulder's flicking tongue settled on the underside of her clit now, and she felt her thighs tighten, raising her pelvis even higher, and suddenly her whole body went rigid as it exploded into fierce waves of orgasmic delirium.

She rode the waves, her hands buried deeply in soft hair, calling "Mulder Mulder Mulder Mulder Mulder" and thrashing on the bed, totally unaware of where her body ended and his lips, tongue and hands began. She became slowly aware that she was pulling Mulder's hair out by the roots and probably suffocating him between her thighs, and she released him with an "Oh!"

She watched as Mulder's face jerked up, gulping for air, a smile of open-mouthed joy on his lips.

"Sorry," she said shyly, smirking a little at the spiky tufts of brown hair sticking up all over her head, where her clutching hands had nearly pulled it out. She watched a slow, sexy smile stretch Mulder's lips as he placed them softly against her still- trembling sex and kissed.

"I'm not." He raised up on his arms and began making his way up her body, and she felt his silky hot erection bump her legs all the way up. She let him get positioned between her thighs, loving the pussy-smell of his face as it lowered into the crook of her neck. As she felt the tip of his cock part her folds, she called out, "Stop!"

Mulder froze, stockstill. "What? Did I hurt you?" The desperation was obvious in his voice, barely overridden by his flare of concern.

Scully smiled an evil smile. "No, Mulder, but I didn't get much of that dessert," she answered.

"Scullllleeeee...." Mulder whined, pressing against her more urgently. "I can't take this!"

Her grin widened, showing teeth he would have been able to see, had his mouth not still been sucking on her neck. "Yes you can," she said, and she placed her hand firmly against his chest and shoved him off of her, breathing back her own fierce need to have him buried inside her. She nearly relented at the tortured groan she heard emnate from her partner's throat, but the sight of that deep pinky purple length of manmeat bobbing high against his abdomen, the tip sparkling with her juices, made her strengthen her resolve.

She pushed him over to lie on the bed next to her and searched frantically for the mousse bowl. It had rolled onto its side near the foot of the bed, and she had to crawl on hands and knees to reach it. She swiped up the last dollop of the rich chocolate treat with her fingers, then turned and balanced herself on her knees, surveying her victim.

Mulder was the one clutching the bedcover now, his eyes heavy lidded and dark, his mouth open and breathing noisily. She almost felt sorry for the way he was in such obvious need of relief.

But not enough to give it to him just yet.

Licking her lips with growing hunger, she reached over and slathered his dick from tip to root. His hips bucked up at her touch, forcing his cock to fuck her chocolate-slicked hand just once before she withdrew it quickly. His moan was so plaintive she couldn't help but bend over him and, rather than give him the teasing tongue bath she had originally planned on, she lowered her mouth quickly, taking all she could of his cocoa-covered shaft deep into her mouth and throat, bobbing her head so that it effectively fucked her face.

He actually yelled, and the sound made the corners of her widely- stretched mouth curve up the slightest bit in a smile. She felt a jolt of raw arousal make her own hips jerk as Mulder sank his hands into her hair, freezing her in place, dick sunk deeply into her face. She liked being controlled like that. She moaned against his jerking flesh, and felt his fingers tighten in her hair in response.

"God, no, Scully, God..." It was hard to understand him and Scully realized Mulder was speaking through clenched teeth. She fought the pressure of his hands and brought her face up off his dick, sucking the tip like a sweet piece of candy before letting it go completely.

"Don't...just don't touch me, Scully...fuck, I'll come..." Mulder's words, little more than gasps ground out from between pursed lips, caused a flash of heat to wash through Scully and she wrapped her hand around Mulder's shaft and squeezed the base, hard.

"No, you won't," she said levelly. "Not until your cock is buried in my cunt." She fixed him with a mock- threatening glare.

"Then fucking get up here and let me IN, dammit," he growled, raising up and grabbing her by the shoulders, pulling her up his body.

Scully pretended to pout, sincerely disappointed at the lack of time she'd had to adequately explore Mulder's manhood with her mouth, but she slid her wet sex up over his thighs and positioned herself just hovering over his jumping cock. Her thighs trembled with the effort of holding her poised over him, and she nearly screamed when he bit out, "Wait."

She raised her eyebrows at him, feeling the tip of him barely stroking against her dripping opening. He was biting his lower lip, obviously having as hard a time at restraint as she was, but for some reason not quite ready to have her impaled on his prick.

"Scully," he breathed out. "I just...this was a fantasy I've had for so long...so long...and I never dreamed you would ever make it real."

Scully smiled, and started to lower herself down. He gripped her hips roughly and stopped her. Her smile turned to an irritated frown. Was this his way of getting her back? This man was going to pay, bigtime.

"I just don't want you to think it was *just* a sex fantasy for me, Scully," he continued, his voice deep and trembling with emotion.

Scully sighed and bent down to kiss those sex-and-chocolate lips. "We both know what this is, Mulder. Something that's been building for a long, long time. I love you."

She gave him a patented, full-watt Scully smile. "Now, can we fuck already?"

Mulder chuffed out a laugh and released his grip on Scully's hips. She immediately sank down over his shaft with a long "Aaahhhhhhhhh..." which sounded in chorus with Mulder's "Uuuhhhhhhhhhh.."

Scully took a moment to get her breath, feeling hot and pulsating and totally full of Mulder. She felt his cock twitch inside her and squeezed him with her inner muscles in return, eliciting a surprised gasp.

She pulled herself forward, sliding up his length slowly, then rammed herself back down, feeling him bump against her womb with a delicious hot ache. "MMmmmmmmmm..." she moaned, beginning to grind herself on him, up and down and around in small circles, getting lost in the sensation of finally possessing him.

She raised herself up, supporting herself with her hands on his hard ab muscles, rocking her pelvis back and forth, grinding her clit and G-spot against his unyielding hot flesh. His hands reached up and caressed her breasts roughly, his former technique lost in the depths of his pleasure. She revelled in the slight pain mixed with the building throbs of pleasure which were threatening to throw her over the edge of another powerful orgasm. Holding it off for just a moment longer, she focused her breath enough to form words.

"MMMmmulder I'm going to come any second now, and I want you to come with me. Can you do that?" She breathed the words, her eyes fluttering opened and closed with the effort of holding off her climax.

"Yes," Mulder gasped out, squeezing her breasts harder and lifting his pelvis up to ram more deeply up inside her.

"Come! Now!" Scully choked out, as the convulsions took over her body, causing her to break her rhythm and slide all over Mulder's cock like a rider on one of those mechanical bulls.

Evidently, her command was enough to bring him off, as she felt Mulder begin to buck erratically under her, their sexes slipping and bumping and grinding against one another as their combined cries wailed out of them in a rising crescendo of shared bliss.

As Scully's pleasure-wave subsided she felt the carnival ride Mulder's hips had become slow to a trembling stop. She fell forward over him, locking her mouth on his collar bone and sucking softly as she enjoyed the ebbing twinges and twitches of her body embracing her partner's still swollen cock.

"Mmmmmmm..." she hummed against his throat. "I like your fantasy, Mulder."

"That wasn't my fantasy, Scully," Mulder replied, breathless. "That was something I could never have even dreamed." His hands lowered to her head and stroked through her hair and his lips placed light kisses on the top of her head.

"Am I too heavy for you?" Scully asked, concerned that her weight was cutting off Mulder's breathing.

"No, stay right where you are," he said. And since his breath didn't sound the least bit forced, Scully smiled and snuggled into him, their bodies still joined.

They lay like that for several minutes, and Scully was being lulled by the beating of Mulder's heart under her ear. Then she startled a bit as his deep voice reverberated directly into her ear canal.

"Uh, Scully?"

"Mmm what, Mulder?"

"I uh...I need to get up." Mulder sounded slightly embarassed.

Scully smiled into his chest hair, then planted a light kiss on the side of his neck, feeling him shiver in response. "Okay," she said. She slid herself off Mulder's softening penis, gasping quietly at the loss of the warmth and sensation and hearing Mulder's hiss as his oversensitized flesh was stroked by her withdrawing body.

She climbed off him and rolled onto her side, and he rolled toward her and gave her a closed-lip kiss, then rolled in the other direction and got up off the bed.

She heard him pad into the bathroom and close the door, She turned her face into his pillow and inhaled deeply, her head swimming in their combined scents. She closed her eyes and was close to drifting off when she felt the bed shift. She opened her eyes to see Mulder offering her a glass of water and a warm, wet towel.

She took both gratefully and drank, then cleaned herself off and handed the towel back. Mulder dropped it to the floor then sat on the edge of the bed, looking down into his water glass.

Scully felt her heart flutter in slight panic. "What is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mulder's answer was just as quiet. He sighed deeply, then took another deep breath and spoke. " I was just wondering...I mean, I don't mean to sound jealous or to start trouble or anything, but...I was just wondering...how I was...compared...compared to him." He swallowed again.

"Oh Mulder," Scully sighed. "Making love to you is a totally different experience from making love to him...to anyone I've *ever* been with!" She went up on her knees behind him and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder and kissing his neck. She was relieved when he reached up and put his own hands on top of hers, hugging them to him more tightly.

"My feelings for you go so deep I don't even know where or when they began," she continued, punctuating her words with kisses to his neck and shoulder. She felt him relax into her caresses and he bent his head to the side to give her better access. "Making love to you was like finally getting the answer to a question my soul and my body's been asking for years." She squeezed him tightly. "I've never felt anything like that in my life."

Mulder lifted her arms to his lips and kissed them up and down. "I feel the same way," he said. "I'm sorry I'm so insecure, Scully. This...thing with...Alex and you is going to take some getting used to." He turned around on the bed now, fitting himself into her embrace more fully.

She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart beat and his lungs breathe. "I know it is, Mulder. And I don't know what I'm going to do about it all. But for now, let's just love each other and let tomorrow work itself out."

She raised her face to Mulder's for a kiss and was not denied. They crawled back up onto the bed, noting that not a spot of chocolate had been spilled on the coverlet, thanks to Mulder's meticulous tonguing. They snuggled down against the pillows, Mulder holding Scully from behind, and slept more deeply than either of them had in years.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 10

Two weeks. Two weeks of sharing sexy glances and very secret touches and still she hadn't said anything about what she wanted to do about their bizarre situation.

And she had declared herself off-limits. To both men, she'd said. She said she needed time to think. Mulder cursed the total unreality and injustice of finally painfully admitting to being in love with Scully only to find he may have to share her with another. Then he smacked himself upside the head and thanked all known deities for even having the right to know her. And for one mind-blowingly hot chocolate-covered night. He actually regretted not having any spots on his covers to show for it.

And then there was Krycek. Alex. Whatever. Scully had told Mulder that Alex had provided them with his address and his phone number. Unreality on top of unreality. Mulder hadn't called or visited, but he was pretty sure Scully had. He trusted her, though, when she said she was not sleeping with him now, just as she wasn't allowing Mulder that liberty. And he was grateful that Alex was keeping his distance and giving Mulder his space to deal with things.

He came back from a late afternoon trip to the lab to find Scully gone and a short note on his desk.

Mulder,

Leaving early, have some things to take care of. My place, 7pm. Eat first. There won't be time for dinner...just dessert.

S

Mulder's sharp intake of breath only hinted at the sense of euphoria he felt. Eat first? Christ, his appetite...for food...was completely obliterated. Dessert, though. That he was in the mood for. He was instantly hard.

He grabbed up his own jacket and didn't even bother to straighten up the files on his desk before he half-jogged to his car.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Krycek took the stairs up to his apartment two at a time, hoping he wasn't squeezing the French bread too tightly. His building had an elevator, but running up and down the ten flights helped keep him in fighting trim.

Besides, he wasn't crazy about small, enclosed spaces.

By the time he got to his door, his breathing was just slightly labored and he couldn't wait to get in the door and devour what was in the bag. He set the bags down in the hall, tripped all five locks on his door, pulled his weapon and stepped into his apartment. Not exactly 'honey, I'm home.' but it was still nice to have a place to call his own. After a quick scan of the small apartment, he went back to the hall and brought in his groceries.

He felt his heart speed up as he approached the laptop on his kitchen counter. He'd been exchanging short emails with Scully every day, and he came to look forward to these friendly messages like a man stranded in the dessert looks forward to water. Or a man in a silo looks forward to light. He tore off a hunk of warm, soft, freshly-baked french bread, ripped it open, shoved in a few slices of deli ham, and crammed in a large mouthful as he booted up the computer.

Alex Krycek getting email from Special Agent Dana Scully. God if this was a dream he begged never to wake up.

His heart actually jumped as he saw the new message come up. Only one from her today. And no other emails to open. After all, she was the only one who had this email address. He didn't want to contaminate their correspondence with...business. So he had two separate accounts.

Alex,

Eat a light dinner then come to my place for dessert. 7pm.

D

Alex sat staring at the screen, not even realizing his mouth was hanging open.

For the past two weeks, since he knew she and Mulder had *finally* consummated their relationship, Scully had gone to great lengths to let Alex know that, while she was not asking him to back out of the picture, she did need him to back off for awhile. He had honored her wishes and kept himself from any physical contact with her.

Their emails had been casual and friendly, occasionally dropping a mention that Scully was still considering how to handle their dilemma. He had been a little disappointed when she hadn't begun an email flirtation, but he had been positively giddy to be in daily contact with her, however chaste.

He hadn't had a friend, let alone a friendly lover, since before he had graduated from college. Now that he shared these few warm lines with her each day, he wondered just how he had managed to survive without something like that in his life.

And now she wanted him to come over. For dessert.

Alex's head fell back, eyes closed, as all the blood rushed from his brain to his groin.

Three more hours to go. He resisted the urge to manually slate his sudden lust, preferring to be at top form when he showed up on her doorstep.

Instead, he tore into his sandwich with a vengeance, heading to his bedroom to start agonizing over what to wear.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Mulder recognized the black BMW immediately as he pulled up to the curb. He felt his chest tighten, but willed himself to relax and grabbed the roses from the passenger seat, exiting the car. He watched as Alex Krycek reached across his own front seat to scoop up an identical bouquet of red roses, and he shook his head.

One of them was going to have to work on being more imaginative.

He sighed and crossed the street.

Krycek appeared more surprised to see Mulder than Mulder was to see him. He quickly covered his look of open mouthed surprise with cool interest.

"She invited both of us." Mulder nodded as he said it, as if considering what it could mean.

"Yeah," Krycek nodded back.

They looked at each other's flowers and both men's faces twisted up in similar smirks of embarrassment. Mulder shook his head. Krycek looked at the ground.

"We better get up there. She doesn't like it when people are late."

Krycek chuffed nervously in response. He couldn't meet Mulder's eyes and fell in behind him as he walked up to her outer door.

Mulder buzzed.

"Yes?"

"Scully it's me...and Krycek...Alex."

"Come in."

Krycek felt his throat close up at the surprising power the sound of his first name being uttered by Mulder had over him. No doubt about it. This association was not good for his health. He couldn't afford this kind of softness. This vulnerability.

But it felt so good. He was willing to sacrifice anything to have it...even if just for a few moments longer, until Scully made her choice.

He knew she would choose Mulder. Their love was something that had been put into legend and song for centuries by every manner of scribe. Krycek himself would not have wanted to see it end. And he could understand it from both sides of the obsession. He steeled himself for the pain he knew was inevitable.

He let Mulder take the lead in going through the outer door, again thrilling just a little when Mulder held the door open for him for a fraction of a second. Kindness, especially from Mulder, was not something he was going to get used to right away.

This is insane, he thought. I may as well cut out my heart and hand it to both of them on a platter. I'm as good as dead anyway, letting the both of them get to me like this.

All remaining thought was seared out of his brain as the door to Scully's apartment was opened and she greeted them with a slow smile.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Scully pulled open the door, struggling to control her hammering heartbeat, and was greeted with a sight that nearly stopped it.

Mulder, dressed in jeans and a chocolate colored turtleneck which perfectly matched the brown in his eyes, was nervously shifting his weight from one booted foot to the other, passing a bouquet of roses between his hands, and when he saw her, his gorgeous lower lip parted from its slim twin and he stood there, mouth agape.

Krycek, poured into tight black jeans topped off with an indigo dress shirt which had to be silk, stood solidly with feet slightly apart, clutching his own bunch of roses in what looked like a relatively painful grip to Scully's appraising, appreciative eyes. His eyes seemed to breathe fire as they widened at the sight of her and his own lips parted to let his shallowed breathing escape.

So they liked the outfit, then. Good. Maybe her plan was going to work. She licked her lips, looking from one man to the other. It had to work. There was no *way* she was going to give up any of what she saw laid out before her. She felt her thighs slide against each other in an attempt to quell the itchy throbbing that had started there.

They were unusually bare, revealed from mid-thigh down by a short black leather sheath. She had expected to feel the cool air from the hall on her bare arms and her exposed upper cleavage, but all she could feel was *heat.* She congratulated herself on having the two glasses of wine before the men arrived. She was sure they were the only things keeping her heart from beating its way out of her chest.

She staggered just a little on her three-inch stack heeled sandals as she backed away from the door to admit the guys.

They stood there, rooted to the spot, each choosing a different area of her terrain to peruse. Mulder seemed to be a leg man, while Krycek was focused intently on her deep scoop neckline.

Men. So easy.

She'd purchased and worn this dress for a reason. She knew that what she was about to propose to her lovers was not something they would find easy to acquiesce to. She thought maybe if she fogged their minds with a little leather-sex haze, they would be more pliable under her hands. So to speak. She also wanted to step clearly out of the Scully persona and into the Dana one, and let them know this was the woman they were going to be associating with, as opposed to the professional they knew in her other capacity.

And now she couldn't even get them to come in her door. Overkill, she thought to herself. She bit her lip and smiled.

She stepped back into her doorway and extended an arm to each man, vaguely disturbed by the gesture of supplication she approximated. She was relieved when, instead of the two bouquets of roses, she was rewarded with the warm press of each man's hand in hers. She tugged gently and broke the spell, and the men stumbled forward, pulled by Scully into her living room. She smiled encouragingly at them, let go of their hands, and walked around to close the door behind them.

The fact that their eyes never left her was not lost on her.

"Thanks for coming," she said softly, smiling warmly, trying not to look feral. She tilted her head a little, knowing it made her look vulnerable and endearing.

She was rewarded by two answering smiles and extended bunches of deep, red roses. She held out her hands again, taking a bouquet from each man. "Thanks," she said again, smiling close-mouthed and struggling to breathe slowly.

She very intentionally and in full view of both men placed both bouquets together in a large crystal vase which had seemed to be waiting for just such duty in the middle of her coffee table. She bent over, carefully arranging the stems in a stunning explosion of passionate color. She resisted the urge to wiggle her ass just a bit for the benefit of the two men whom, she was well aware, were staring at it. She rose and turned back to them.

"Sit down." She watched as Mulder started to make his way to the chair and Krycek to the couch. She frowned and grabbed Mulder's hand on his way past her. She waited until Krycek was seated on the left end of the couch, then led Mulder to the right end and gently helped him get situated. He just looked up at her, eyes wide and mouth still slightly open. She looked over and saw Krycek's answering confusion.

Like deer caught in the headlights. Absolutely delicious. Scully sighed, and without a word made her way to the kitchen and brought back two champagne glasses, full of pale sparkling liquid. She handed one to each man, then secured her own from where it had been resting on the coffee table. She then lowered herself onto the spot on the sofa directly between the two men.

She could feel their eyes on her, more powerfully than before, and could feel the heat of their two bodies, one on either side, each just inches away. She could hear her own unsteady breathing but had lost the ability to do anything to control it.

Mulder opened his mouth to say something but Scully quickly placed a finger over his lips. The zing she felt at touch of his soft skin against her fingers must have been similar to what he felt at her touch, because as she squirmed against the sensation, he jerked back gently, his comment stilled quite effectively.

She raised her glass in a silent toast, and the men, moving like automatons, followed her. She gulped the whole glass at once, willing her lovers to follow suit. They did. Silently, she removed the glasses from their lowered hands, and placed them on the coffee table beside her own. She sank back down onto the couch with a gentle sigh.

"I've decided what to do," she began, staring down at her hands, clasped nervously in her lap. They were slippery with perspiration against the leather. She bit her lip and continued. "I don't want to feel like I have to go behind one man's back to express my feelings for the other."

Krycek spoke up. "You never have to hide your feelings for Mulder from me, Dana." His voice was quiet and a bit sad, and she wondered at it. Mulder said nothing, his intense gaze shifting nervously from her to Krycek and back again.

She looked up at him through the corner of her eye, keeping her head lowered. "Thank you Alex. I was hoping you would say that." She turned to Mulder and took his face in her hands.

"Mulder, I love you. I've always loved you and I think you've always known it. You've always thought you were bad for me, but I guess neither of us realized how bad I could be for you." She stopped, made almost speechless by the fierce curiosity and love emanating from his dark, expressive eyes. "I want you so bad, I'm not sure if I could live without having you, but I'm not sure if what I have to say tonight is something you can handle. I suppose I'm letting you see the one last remaining secret side of me, and whether you can take it or not will indicate whether this...us...will work or not." With that, she leaned in slowly and took his lips with hers, stroking them open with her tongue and kissing him deeply, pressing her upper body against his and feeling his arms come up around her and hold her tight against him. She felt her nipples tighten almost painfully against the unforgiving leather. She sucked his tongue more deeply into her mouth and raked up his back with her nails, feeling the insatiable hunger for him she was always fighting break over her in waves.

Dizzy with desire and love and anxiety, she broke the kiss with a shuddering gasp. She ran her finger over his lips once more before pushing away from him once again and coming to center between the two men.

She heard Mulder struggling to catch his breath and felt an almost overwhelming urge to just throw herself on him and take him. But then she heard the sharp intake of breath to the right of her.

She turned and looked into wide, gleaming, darkened green eyes that took her remaining breath away. Briefly she wondered if she would survive if they did go through with this.

She gave Alex her most loving, shining close-lipped smile and reached for his hands, enfolding them in her own. "And Alex. My god, Alex. You've both saved my life now and given it back to me and I've never felt this way about anyone in my life. You make me feel dark, dangerous, wild." She hazarded a quick glance at Mulder, who seemed to still be caught in the whirl of his emotions, unreactive save for the ragged breathing and clenching jaw. She didn't want to hurt him. She never wanted to hurt him. She willed him to understand. It's different, Mulder. You're the other half of me. You're my breath and my life and my one true love. She tried to let that shine out at him before turning back to the other man.

"Alex, you saw the sexual being inside me and you brought her out in ways I could never have imagined. You're an incredible lover and you've proven yourself a worthy friend."

Krycek's eyes narrowed and filled with pain and he opened his mouth to say something but was silenced with one pale, graceful finger. "No. I know what you're going to say. I know you've hurt me. Hurt us. And I'm sure we will have to deal with that in all kinds of ways for the rest of our lives." She paused, swallowing back the tears that wanted to flow at the sight of all of the pain and helplessness in those eyes that had seen too much, too young, and had been forced to keep secrets too long from too many. She traced his lips with her finger and her heart ached at the way they trembled beneath her.

"The bottom line is, whether I can call it love or not, yet, I'm hopelessly addicted to you." She tried to let forgiveness and love shine forth from her eyes for a moment, and as she saw his eyes fill with unshed tears, decided she had been successful. She leaned up toward his face, letting her eyes flutter closed, and felt his trembling lips press down against her own. She immediately opened her mouth under his kiss, hungrily accepting his questing tongue, sucking on it, stroking it with her own, dizzy with the forcefulness of it and the firestorm of emotions behind it. She felt powerful arms crush her to his body, and the silky slide of his shirt against her bare cleavage made her go completely liquid at her center. Very reluctantly, she broke the kiss and pulled away, breathless, leaving Krycek with eyes closed, mouth open.

She swallowed hard and looked back at Mulder, whose eyes were dark with jealousy and lust. She looked at Krycek, whose expression was more desperate and hungry. She closed her eyes and willed herself to breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Eyes still closed, she finally broke the heaving silence. "Trust is the issue here. I can only think of one way to make this work. If you love me, please try to be open. At the same time, I don't want you to do anything you're not ready to face."

Keeping her eyes closed, she took a deep breath and reached out to either side of her. She felt around for each man's nearest hand and took it in her own. She then brought them both together in front of her, releasing them and pressing them together, feeling a sob well up in her throat at the thought that they might be disgusted, shocked, and disappointed in her. She pushed Mulder's hand into Krycek's and Krycek's into Mulder's, holding them together with her hands on either side of them, then pressed them down at the top of her thighs, feeling a jolt of pleasure as the rough knuckles and clasped fingers put delicious pressure on her swollen sex. She felt a little moan escape her as she willed them to let this happen.

She felt and heard the rush of breath on either side of her as the two men figured out, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what she was asking them to do. They both tried to pull their hands back, but she squeezed them tightly together, at the same time squeezing her eyes against the tears that were threatening to spill over. Please. Please. Please, she thought. This is right. This is good. This is the way it has to be.

As she bit her lip and felt the hands between hers twitch and squeeze, she wondered if she had been mistaken in her interpretation of the men's latent attraction to one another. She admitted to herself that without strong intervention, the walls between them would never be breached like this and their mutual attraction for one another never acted upon, but she also felt certain in her assessment of the source behind all of the raging conflict and emotion that seemed to swell between the men whenever they were in close proximity. And the thought of them finally expressing that energy between them sexually...well it just reduced her to a puddle of want.

God, she felt wicked. And not just in a good way. She knew, in the core of her, how *wrong* her church, her parents, and most people in general, would think her plan was. But she also knew she didn't live in the same world they did. Krycek had said it best. None of them did. They lived with a different set of risks. They deserved to be bound by a similarly different set of rules.

She felt the hands in her grasp stop fighting against one another as she stroked and squeezed them. She let out a breath of relief, realizing this meant very little really. Only that they weren't ready to gnaw off their own arms to get away from one another.

But it was a start.

She lifted their still-clasped hands up slowly over her head and ducked out from beneath them, using her hands to keep theirs together and standing before them. She opened her eyes and looked into Mulder's then Krycek's faces, pleading with her eyes for them not to break the precious contact. They complied, both of them looking like animals hit with a stun gun. She let go of their hands and straightened up. She reached up behind her with her hands and slowly unzipped her dress. She watched as two Adam's apples bobbed and two tongues came out to lick two sets of different, but equally beautiful lips. She smiled shakily and let the dress fall to the floor. She watched both men's pupils dilate as they took in the sight of her in her black satin bra and panties. Once again, she kept the sandals on, for now.

The sight of their hands, gently holding each other between their heaving bodies, made her want to smother them with kisses. She bent and lifted the joined hands and placed her lips to them, bathing them with tongue-flicking kisses all over, being sure to give equal attention to both men. They both just stared at her and licked their lips, unsure what their next course of action should be.

Truth be told, she was not at all averse to orchestrating this whole evening. She was just unsure about their ongoing reaction to things as they progressed. Again, she had removed her clothing in an attempt to give them something else...her...to focus on instead of what they were being asked to do. She lifted their hands again and secured herself between them on the sofa, holding their clasped hands once more right at the top of her thighs where they met. She was sure they must be able to feel her wetness through the black satin just under their hands, and she herself could smell her own arousal.

It was time to move to the next step. She turned to Krycek and before he could do anything, swept him into another kiss. She smiled against his mouth as she felt him *not* break contact with Mulder, even as his other hand buried itself in her hair and pressed her into the kiss more deeply. She stroked her hands down over his chest, scratching at the silk and reveling in the moans this elicited from Krycek's throat. She sucked and licked and stroked at his mouth with her tongue as her skilled and delicate fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. She bared his chest to her hands and swept them over it, drowning in the feeling of the hot, hard flesh and the silky chest hair flowing through her fingertips. The smell of him made her dizzy.

She broke the kiss and his head followed hers, reluctant to give her up. She quickly turned her back to him and sank back against him, pulling his free hand up around her body and placing it on her bare abdomen. She nestled her head in against his chest, arching back for one last kiss before focusing her eyes on Mulder. She felt Krycek's lips come to rest against her ear and shivered.

The two men were still holding hands as requested. The thought made her want to cry with its deep significance and proof of their love for her. Leaning back into Krycek's embrace, she reached forward, straining to catch Mulder's free hand in hers. She felt shame and pain at the confusion and envy in his eyes, but he tried instead to focus on the evidence of his obvious arousal, namely his labored breathing and the huge bulge at his crotch.

He reached for her and as soon as he made contact with her hand, she wrapped both hands around his and pulled him on top of her, opening her mouth under his in a whimpering kiss.

She moaned at the feeling of the heated form at her back and the one laying full width on her front, and she moaned again as Mulder settled his hard length of arousal right below her soaked, throbbing mound. She bucked up against him and felt herself coming back down on an answering hardness in the other man's jeans. She was lost in the feeling of Mulder's mouth on her mouth, his body on her body, Krycek's erection stabbing her bottom from behind, and Krycek's hand pressed just under her breasts, crushed between her and Mulder's heaving bodies.

Scully ran her hands down to Mulder's waist and quickly pulled his shirt out of his jeans, yanking on it, making little grunting sounds in her efforts to pull it off. They had to break their kiss to get it over his head and he raised up off her and helped yank it up over his head, tossing it beyond her line of sight and sinking back down on her, reclaiming her mouth with his, and claiming her right breast with his free left hand.

It was time for these two men to let go of one another's hands if this was going to go where she wanted it to. She grabbed blindly to her side, finding the men's hands tightly gripping one another, fingers intertwined. She used her fingers to pry them apart and with no further urging, both men pulled away from each other's grip and secured their hands on her body, Mulder reaching down in a long stroke down her side, Krycek reaching up and squeezing the breast Mulder hadn't claimed.

Mulder's touch on her breast was more careful and stroking, its teasing driving her mad, and Krycek's was tugging, squeezing and even scratching, ratcheting up her response exponentially. She bucked beneath Mulder, feeling an answering undulation from both men, unable to even comprehend the magnitude of the thrill of being sandwiched between them. But she was frustrated, too, at how Mulder's body, so much longer than her own, could not fasten its mouth to her lips and still make contact between his groin and hers.

She decided she wanted an alternative to his kisses, and reached down with both hands, broke the kiss, and pulled with all her strength, moving Mulder's body up hers, wrapping her legs up around his thighs. His answering groan was open mouthed and she mimicked it against his collarbone as she finally felt his hardness come down firmly where she needed it most.

As she ground into Mulder's bulging fly, she became aware of the not altogether pleasant sensation of all that denim rubbing roughly on sensitized, naked skin.

The boys had too many clothes on. What to do? As Krycek's belt loops pressed hard into her tender lower back, she let out a gasp that was not of pleasure. She felt both men start, and Mulder pulled up off her slightly.

"Scully...you okay?" He asked, breathing heavily.

She smiled, deeply touched at his dazed look of concern.

"Denim," she answered breathily. "It's a bit rough on naked skin."

Mulder seemed unsure what she was getting at and she smiled at his lack of braincell activity. She decided to make it easy for him.

"Please take off your clothes, Mulder," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Mulder smiled sheepishly at this and rose up off the couch completely. Scully settled back against Krycek to enjoy the show, grabbing his right hand and making it trail softly over her bared abdomen while his left twirled circles around her left nipple. The pleasure was so good it ached.

And it only got better as she watched Mulder unbutton his 501's and push them down his hips, along with his knit boxer-briefs. He appeared to have a bit of a struggle getting them over his hard- on and Scully let out a tiny whimper as she watched it bounce free. He bent his long, lithe body and gracefully untied his boots, toeing them off and then lifting his feet completely free of the puddle of cotton and denim on the floor.

He stood before her, a long, lovely vision of lust and longing. A twinge shot through Scully's clit and her mouth dropped open.

"God, Mulder."

That hadn't come from her. It had been barely whispered against her ear by the man she was lounging against. She felt her body go limp with desire at the pure, plain want in that low, gravelly voice.

So she hadn't misread one side of this triangle, anyway. She reached beneath her and stroked Krycek's gently bucking erection gratefully. More moaning in her ear made her shiver.

"You're beautiful, Mulder." She couldn't help herself but to say it out loud. Handsome wouldn't do. Sexy was redundant. The only word that came anywhere near close to describing her partner, lover and best friend was beautiful. She hoped he wouldn't cringe at its femininity.

He didn't. At the sound of her breathy compliment, his eyes closed and he bit his lip, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

He was waiting for her next order. Oh god was she liking this. She gently removed both of Krycek's hands from her body and raised herself up off of him. She made her way into Mulder's arms, stroking her hands up his beautiful, perfectly muscled biceps and then pressing her breasts hard against his golden, slightly furred chest. Mulder reached down and held her face up with his hands, lowering his face to hers in a long, slow, wet kiss. She sighed into it and sagged against him, completely undone. At her limpness, his hands moved from her face to her shoulders and he held her up against him, moaning softly into the kiss.

Swooning in his grasp, she forced her lips away from his and quickly turned in his arms, securing them around the top of her shoulders and moving his hands to her breasts. He grunted and began pulling on her nipples through the satiny bra, bending to place hot, moist kisses on the side of her neck.

She trained her gaze on Alex, who had not moved from his sprawled position on the couch. God that bulge in his jeans looked painful. She looked him directly in the eyes and licked her lips. "Now you."

She watched, marvelling at Alex's natural grace as he lifted himself from the sofa in one smooth, controlled motion. She rubbed her ass against the erection prodding it from behind and placed kisses on the forearms crossing her chest.

Alex first pulled his shirt the rest of the way out of his jeans, then shrugged himself out of it, baring his rising and falling chest, broader and a bit darker than Mulder's, with ebony hair catching the soft light. Scully let her eyes appraise him openly and ran her tongue around her mouth, attempting to let him know just how much she liked what she saw.

His slow smile let her know that he got the message. He didn't take his eyes off her, except to let them travel over Mulder's face, which was now resting itself on Scully's shoulder, intent on the show before them both. When his eyes met Mulder's they went from playful to serious, and maybe a bit hesitant. Scully thought that maybe Krycek wasn't sure Mulder would like the idea of being wanted by him. He evidently couldn't see the barely restrained passion that Mulder radiated for Krycek whenever they were around each other.

Well she could. And she'd help them both see it, too. She waited as Alex quickly undid the button and zipper of his own jeans, feeling her breath catch a little as the zipper stalled a bit on its way down, obviously encountering resistance from beneath. Her eyebrows went up and her lips parted as she saw that, true to form, Alex Krycek wasn't wearing any underwear.

She found it one of his most endearing qualities. She was not entirely surprised, but still most thoroughly thrilled, with the gasp of surprise and appreciation that warmed her ear. She felt the erection at her backside prod her more insistently and pressed back against it, a silly smile making its way across her face. Yes. This would not be as hard...difficult...as she had feared.

Alex removed his shoes and socks and stepped out of jeans, and was suddenly naked and hard and breathing loudly in front of them.

She turned her head to the side, catching Mulder's mouth in a kiss for a moment, then sighing, "He's beautiful, isn't he Mulder?" His answer was just a loud breath in her ear, but from the look of pride and satisfaction in Alex's eyes as he stood before their appraising gazes, Alex was aware of the answer too.

"Back on the couch," she breathed, looking to the place where Alex had lain just moments before. He smiled his slow smile and stretched himself out on it, legs spread to make room for her this time. She gritted her teeth at the beauty spread before her. She heard Mulder's sharp intake of breath and felt a new gush of fluid between her thighs.

She started to walk out of Mulder's arms and secure her former position, when she felt his hands grab her firmly by the hips.

"Now who's got too many clothes?" She heard, hot in her ear. She shivered and her head fell back, eyes closed.

"Better help her out," came from the reclining man on the couch. Scully nearly growled at the feeling of being suspended in thrall between two such passionate, beautiful, intelligent, strong men.

The growl turned into a surprised cry as she felt Mulder's hands yank quickly but gently at her panties, pulling them down over her hips where they encountered some resistance of their own, clinging to her legs, refusing to slide easily through the evidence of her arousal. She watched, transfixed, as Alex came up off the couch, all grace once again, and reached forward to help her out of them. She was shaking now, as both Mulder and Alex tugged her soaked panties down her thighs. She whimpered as Alex bent down for a deep inhalation of her scent, then pressed forward and placed his lips at her sex softly, going down on his knees before her.

Scully moaned as Alex pressed his mouth against her, holding her hips in a firm but gentle grip. She felt her legs start to give out, and Mulder caught her around the chest, under her breasts, and held her up, lowering his mouth once more to her neck.

Alex at first just pressed firm kisses against her dripping sex, making little moans that Scully could feel vibrating against her thrumming flesh. She was so close to coming already that she was afraid it would hurt when he finally used his tongue on her. She squirmed away from him, pressing inadvertently against Mulder's cock and eliciting an answering thrust and moan against her throat.

"Too...much..." she breathed out, sounding whiny and helpless and hating it and loving it and not being able to do a damn thing to change it.

She felt Alex's rumble against her tingling flesh. "This was your idea, Dana."

Then another growl at her ear. "Not backing out now, are you?"

"Ooohhhhh gahhhhhhd" was all she could get out and Alex again focused on the task at hand, now extending his tongue and delicately fluttering it against her clit, as Mulder pinched both nipples and bit her earlobe.

She came with a scream, bucking hard into Alex's face and back against Mulder's cock, making both men join her gasping cries with grunts of their own as she writhed against and between them.

When she had ridden the waves of her orgasm for what seemed like several minutes, she collapsed, shaking, against Mulder's body. She watched Alex rise up, wiping the juices from his lips with the back of his hand and grinning hungrily. She pulled her to him, eager to taste herself on him. Truthfully it was one of her favorite things about this particular act. She licked her flavor from his lips and tongue as he pressed hard against her from the front and Mulder pressed hard from the back, still kissing her neck and shoulder, now with renewed vigor.

She drew her lips away from Alex's still potent-tasting mouth and laid her head on his upper arm. She breathed in the scent of his chest, smelling it as it mingled with the musk of the other man at her back. She was dizzy with it. Completely dizzy with it.

"Mulder,' she breathed against Alex's arm. "Please....taste me on him." She heard Alex's gasp, or was that Mulder's and for a second she wondered if she had gone too far. She turned and moved a bit more to the side, now sliding out from between the two men so that they could move in close to one another.

Mulder stared into Krycek's eyes and Krycek stared back. Scully watched Mulder's jaw twitch as he bit into his plump lower lip, and she felt a little sorry for making him take such a big leap. Looking at Krycek she didn't see the same resistance, only a restrained desire and an old patience. With her eyes, she sent Alex a message to make his move.

Alex blinked his eyes slowly and stepped forward, taking a deep breath. Before Mulder could back away, he grabbed his head between his hands and pulled him in for a rough kiss.

Scully gasped. Alex's lips moved slowly against Mulder's mouth, and Mulder's hands came up to Alex's sides but did not embrace him. Nor did they push him away. Scully watched, entranced as Alex's tongue slipped from between his lips and licked Mulder's lips, asking for admittance. She watched Mulder's body, tense as steel, struggling not to respond to Alex's patient caresses. Finally, with a slight whimper, Mulder opened his mouth to Alex and gave himself over to the power of the kiss, gripping Alex's shoulders with both hands then sliding them around to wrap him in a vicelike embrace.

Scully moaned, feeling her arousal immediately return to a nearly painful fever pitch. She could feel the liquid dripping down her inner thighs. She watched as Mulder took control of the kiss, finally letting all of the repressed emotions of all kinds come through in his ravenous oral caress. He was slightly taller than Alex and the pressure of his sucking, probing, grunting kiss drove Alex's head back. Alex, no longer having any need to hold Mulder's face in place, twined one hand around his neck, holding him as closely as possible, while the other hand slid quickly down his back and grasped his buttock hard, pulling the other man's lower body in as close as his face.

Scully heard both men moan, one low and one higher and raspier, as their erections ground against one another. Despite having just experienced a blinding orgasm, she could not help but slip her hand down between her slippery thighs and running her fingertips over and over her throbbing clit. She'd never seen anything so fucking beautiful in all her life.

She heard Mulder struggling to speak through the kiss, growling out what sounded like, "ohfuckohfuckohgod," and the sound of his desperation made her body buck against her own hand. She would have come if she hadn't quickly pulled her fingers away and clenched her fists. She only wanted to come at the hands of her two lovers tonight. And she certainly didn't want to tire out her orgasmic response before the fun was over.

Mulder's hands moved haltingly over Krycek's back, pushing the other man in close to him, sometimes stroking and sometimes scratching him in his desperation to release all the pent up feelings. The two men ground against each other and thrust erratically, seeking resolution of what looked like a volcano of passion and want.

Suddenly Scully was afraid that if she didn't intervene they were going to come all over one another and slow things down for her. After all, neither of them were teenagers anymore and she wasn't sure how long it might take for one or both of them to come back into working order after such a mind-altering climax. And she had plans for these men. She cleared her throat, smiling.

The sound was lost over the noises the men were making. She grinned wider and stepped up to the sweating, groping, grunting male sculpture, placing a hand on each man's shoulder and pressing them apart. "Guys..." Their mouths pulled apart from one another wetly and both men's eyes were half-closed, their breaths coming out in harsh pants, sparkling drops of saliva on each set of bruised, swollen lips. She wanted to devour them both.

"Oh god, Mulder, Alex, Mulder...you're so incredible together," she breathed, sliding her hands over both sets of sweaty, heaving pecs. "But don't leave me out, boys," she finished with a sultry smile. Mulder's eyes blinked as he struggled to focus then she watched as his eyes trained in on her and his lips curved into a scorching smile. He pulled her in roughly and lowered his mouth on hers and she was eternally grateful she had left her sandals on, because her face was only a couple of inches lower than his and it felt like heaven to just melt into the kiss.

She slid against his sweaty body, feeling his hands grasp her buttocks and yank her in tightly against him. Then, before she could register the hot throbbing length of him bumping against her super sensitized sex, she felt the heat of Alex's body press firmly against her from behind, his cock sliding in between her ass cheeks as a set of teeth sank gently into the place where her neck met her shoulder. She cried out into Mulder's mouth and reached frantically, first in front of and then behind her, trying to get her hands on all that burning, sweating male flesh.

She was lost. Lost in the sensation of musk and sweat and sliding, hard male bodies. She could no longer control the loud, ongoing humming moan that worked its way out of her throat as Mulder sucked her tongue and bit her lips and Krycek worked his mouth against her neck and shoulders.

Then she felt the world go out from under her as Mulder dipped slightly forward and grabbed her under her thighs, lifting her off the ground. "Hold her," he murmured against her lips and she whined plaintively as Alex's body braced against her back, his arms helping Mulder support her between the two men.

She was nearly sobbing as she felt Mulder line himself up with her opening, and she could nothing to help him except hang there, sliding against hot male flesh front and back. Mulder hesitated for just a moment with the tip of his cock slipped into her, then with a savage grunt he thrust all the way into her, deeply and hard.

Scully cried out, her sounds blending with those of the men sandwiching her front and back. As Mulder began stroking in and out of her she lost touch with reality, unable to see or hear or feel anything except the jolting, blinding pleasure wracking her body from head to toe.

"OH! OH! OH!" She cried out with each thrust, mouth open, in no way able to control the harsh, gasping cries that were forced from her lungs. She was leaning back against Alex, her hands sloppily gripping Mulder's arms as he drove into her, her eyes closed, head lolling against Alex's chest. She didn't even feel the approach of her orgasm, so powerfully did it blend with the tornado of sensations her body was experiencing. She only realized she was having one as she heard herself screaming and was sure she couldn't survive any more pleasure as her body bounced against Alex's Mulder's thrusts pounding her between their bodies. Her body felt like it was no longer under any type of her control as Mulder tightened his grip on her thighs and sped up his thrusts, his face red and twisted, teeth biting constantly into his lower lip. He sounded like he was sobbing as his rhythm became erratic and jerky and then his mouth opened in a long howl as he pumped his semen deeply into her buzzing, tingling body.

As he neared the end of his own convulsive movements, he slipped his hands up around her hips and then her torso, pulling her up against him tightly, murmuring incoherently against her hair. She floated there in the haze of post-coital forever, existing only in between the breaths she felt coming from Mulder's lips at her ear.

"Let's go to the bedroom," she heard in her ear. She swooned at the thought that this wasn't over, that Alex had not been allowed to fully join the party yet. She honestly didn't know if she could take anymore. The decision was taken out of her hands as Mulder lowered her to the ground and she was immediately swept up into Krycek's arms and taken into her room. His lips sought hers out and his kisses were urgent, desperate, and it surprised her until she realized that he had not experienced what she and Mulder had and had yet to find his fulfillment. She felt guilty and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him deeper into her kiss, shocked to find her own arousal twinging through her once again, making her shudder against his straining body.

As she kissed him just inside her bedroom door, she wondered what he was waiting for. Why didn't he just throw her down and take her? But he didn't. He continued to hold her and kiss her, leaning now against the wall as if waiting for something.

As Mulder returned from what must have been a short bathroom break with a tall glass of water in his hand, she got her answer. Alex broke the kiss and smiled at Mulder.

Mulder smiled back lazily and held the glass to her lips. Only then did she realize how incredibly thirsty she was and she drank greedily, feeling some spill down her face and throat and thrilling to the contrast of the cold water to her overheated flesh. She would have drained the glass but Mulder pulled it away, placing his finger against her lips. She sucked it in greedily and watched his eyes close for a moment. "Save some for Alex," he said, his voice full of double meaning. As she continued to lave his fingers with her tongue, he raised the glass to Alex's lips and she moaned as Alex drank deeply from the glass Mulder held for him. Such incredible tenderness. She would never have thought it was possible. Her exhausted body began to thrum with new arousal and she conveyed her gratitude for Mulder's show of kindness to Alex with more frantic tonguing and sucking of his fingers.

Mulder pulled the empty glass away from Alex's lips and Alex licked them and gave Mulder a grateful smile. "Lie down," he growled sweetly, and Mulder pulled his fingers from Scully's mouth gently and, setting the glass down on the dresser behind him, made his way to the bed and did as Alex asked.

Alex walked over to the bed and laid Scully out beside Mulder, placing a gentle kiss on her lips as he did so. Scully and Mulder both looked at him, impatient to hear what his next loving command might be.

"Kiss him," the voice rasped. He didn't have to tell her twice. Scully rolled over to Mulder and their mouths opened against one another as she licked and sucked and felt Mulder's tongue stroke hers languorously in response. Their kisses weren't urgent this time, but loving and luxurious, their lips and tongues sliding against one another gracefully. Scully felt warm, rough hands slide under her hips and place her more fully on top of Mulder, placing her legs on either side of his. She pulled her knees up to help support her, her soaking, deliciously aching sex sliding against Mulder's half-erect cock.

"Yeah," she heard growled from behind her. "Just like that." She stopped kissing Mulder and turned her head to watch Alex climb onto the bed behind her. Mulder spread his legs to give Alex room to move in, and Scully moved up his hips just a little, unable to keep her legs on either side of his spread thighs. She resettled herself just above his sex, looking back at Alex with a gentle, heated smile.

"God," Alex breathed. "God, Mulder, Scully. You don't know what you guys do to me." His eyes gleamed with a complex mix of emotions, chief among them desire and amazement. "This is way beyond anything..." his voice cracked and Scully watched, transfixed as his eyes filled with tears.

"Alex." Her voice was barely above a whisper. He smiled at her in response.

"Just kiss him, Scully." She turned back to Mulder, who was looking at Alex with an expression of puzzled wonder. She raised her eyebrows at him as if to say, "Guess we'd better do it!" and lowered her lips to his once more. She could never get enough of kissing Mulder. She had seven years to make up for, after all.

She felt Alex move into position behind her and caught her breath, afraid for a moment of what it would feel like to have his penis inside her so-recently well-fucked body. Mulder responded to her tension by stroking his hands over her back soothingly. She needn't have worried, as Alex showed a restraint she knew he must have barely capable of, pressing just the head of his cock against her and pushing gently, letting her swollen tissues accept him gently and gradually.

Scully sighed out against Mulder's mouth and he tightened his arms around her in response. Alex pushed only partway in and then pulled back out, pushing gently inside once more, this time a little further. Scully felt absolutely no pain as she was lovingly and patiently stretched to accommodate him, and she even felt herself get a little impatient to feel him buried to the hilt. The next time he withdrew and pushed slowly into her, she suddenly reared back into him, impaling herself fully on his member and eliciting a surprised grunt from Alex.

"Scully...Dana..." he gasped, speeding up his rhythm now, starting to ram himself in deep with every thrust. Scully braced herself over Mulder's hips, moving her pelvis back to meet each of Alex's thrusts, setting up a lovely tempo which Mulder managed to match with his tongue effectively fucking her mouth. She felt Mulder's fingers slip down between her legs and begin to very gently press at her clit and she whimpered and sobbed against his mouth, once more overcome with the combined pleasure the two men were giving her. Before she knew she was even going to, she was crying out into Mulder's mouth, her teeth mashing his lips against his own teeth, her body writhing between his hand and Alex's cock.

"God, Scully..." Alex said, nearly sobbing. Then he shocked her as he withdrew from her body and lowered himself over it, bathing her shoulders with kisses. She was confused as she struggled to make sense of it, knowing by the feel of his rockhard erection pressing against her ass that he was far from sated.

"Do you trust me, Dana?" he asked, licking at her ear.

"Yes, Alex," she immediately answered, knowing it was as true as anything she'd ever said.

"I love you," he said. And she shivered at the feeling of those words tingling in her ear. "I want to do something. Something you might not have done." His voice was low and rumbling, but gentle, and she knew that she would do whatever he asked. Her body felt like a quivering mass of flesh that was at her lovers' disposal to do with what they would.

"Do it," she whispered, rolling her head and straining for a kiss. He pressed his lips to hers, swiping his tongue along them for just a moment before raising up off her.

"I won't hurt her," he said, pausing for a moment and looking directly in Mulder's eyes.

"I know." Mulder answered, gazing intently back at him.

"Just relax, Scully. Help her relax, Mulder." Mulder began placing feathery kisses over her face as his hands stroked up and down her sides and back, making her shiver.

All of a sudden, Scully gasped as she felt wet heat at her anus. The sensation of his tongue there was something she could never have expected, nor was the bolt of pleasure that immediately shot through her body. She had no idea that part of her body would be so sensitive. She squirmed as Alex's tongue first lapped gently all around the opening, then firmly thrust inside, making her jump against Mulder's body. Had she thought she was through coming for the night? Her body had other ideas as she felt the liquid spiral winding tighter and tighter in her belly.

"Good...good," Alex murmured, and he swept his fingers through the dripping fluids in her sex. Then Scully felt herself tense slightly as his finger replaced his tongue, just pressing gently around and then inside the tight little opening. Alex kissed her buttocks as he pushed his finger more deeply inside, twisting it gently to help its passage. He used his other finger to very, very gently stroke through her folds, both arousing her and gathering the lubrication he needed. She felt him stroke through with his fingers, then they left her, then they returned again and left again and she realized, biting her lip, that he was slicking her and Mulder's combined juices up and down his cock in preparation to penetrate her.

She whimpered, afraid of the pain. He sensed her reluctance and murmured against her butt cheek. "I won't hurt you, Dana. Trust me. Just relax. You'll like it, I promise." He removed his finger from her anus and gathered more fluid from her unending supply and then slid two fingers inside her, using the other hand to keep the gentlest of rhythmic pressures on her clit. It felt like being fucked, but not, the pleasure a bit sharper somehow and his throbbing pressure on her clit kept her totally relaxed as he pushed in a third finger, twisting and stroking her from the inside.

"Is that good, Dana?" he asked, maintaining the actions of both hands continuously.

"Yesss," she gasped out, amazed as his ability to please her body.

"Good. Now kiss him. I'm going to fuck you."

Scully gasped at the low, warm command in his voice and obeyed, lowering her bruised and tingling lips to Mulder's and being met with a firm, hungry kiss from her partner, lover, friend. Mulder's hands continued to stroke up and down her sides as she felt Alex grip her buttocks firmly, pulling them apart slightly with one hand. She felt a blunt, silky hardness press at her opening, slick with the results of her and Mulder's lovemaking.

"Don't tense," Alex warned gently, and Scully let go of the tension she hadn't realized she was holding. "That's it," he breathed, and he slid himself in partway with strained gasp.

Scully was amazed that it didn't hurt. Not in any way that wasn't a huge part of the pleasure. She felt her body tense up again anyway, and then immediately release as Mulder's hand made its way between their bodies and put gentle, constant pressure on her throbbing clit. God these men knew about pleasure. Scully mentally whacked herself upside the head for waiting so long to find this out. Her self-deprecating thoughts were obliterated as Alex pushed into her further, his throat squeezing out a sobbing moan. "Nnnngod, Scully. Dana." As his cock filled her in a way she'd never felt before and Mulder's fingers loved her from below, she felt the most intense wave of love wash over her, actually making itself physical as her body undulated at the ministrations of both men. She made no attempt to hold back the low hum that set up in her own throat as Mulder's lips continued to work against hers in much the same way as his hand was below.

Alex began to slowly stroke in and out of her, each thrust punctuated by a tortured groan held deep in his throat.

"MmmMulder...are you...are you ready to go?" He asked, breathing between words, thrusting between both.

Mulder's answering groan rumbled through her own mouth as she felt his hips buck up against her, the tip of his freshened erection just brushing the lips of her sex. She felt her hips being pulled backward, her body joined deeply with Alex's as he moved her down Mulder's body. Keeping himself buried deeply inside her, he gently pulled her down and back until she was poised over Mulder's cock, her lips at his collar bone.

"Ohhhh gaaahd," she said, realizing his intentions. She didn't think she could take it. She was sure she would fly apart if they went through with it. Slowly, gently, she felt Alex move her body, pressing her down onto Mulder's throbbing cock. As it entered her, her loud groan was matched perfectly by those of the men on top of and below her. Alex sounded like he was crying, as he drove into her ass, pushing her down onto Mulder's cock again and again, wringing out a low moan from Mulder with each thrust.

Scully no longer controlled any part of her body as it was impaled from above and below and she just gave herself over to the waves of sensation pounding through her body, one pleasure blending into another until she was aware of nothing but fullness and heat and blinding thunderbolts of stimulation shaking her body.

She was only dimly aware of Alex's thrusting become harder, his voice getting louder, then she felt his semen burn her wonderfully from within as he cried out his orgasm, screaming hoarsely, unintelligibly as he pounded it into her.

His increased pressure and the way it made her body ram down on Mulder's caused the other man to thrust up into her savagely, bouncing her between the two men roughly, and she rode the two of them as Mulder just moments after Alex, spurted his second supply of seed deeply within her, calling what sounded something like her name. She felt Alex collapse on top of her and she stretched out her legs behind her, flattening all three of their bodies, Mulder and Alex both still buried deeply inside her, their bodies panting and heaving against one another in a jumbled, sweaty, beautiful mess.

Scully was just drifting off when she heard a muffled groan from beneath her. "Can't...breathe...." In one movement, she and Alex rolled off poor Mulder, who drew long gasping breaths into his constricted lungs, grinning.

"Oh Mulder...you poor baby," she Scully, catching his face in her hands and kissing his cheeks as he caught his breath.

"Sorry," added Alex, snuggling in behind Scully, placing kisses on her shoulders.

"S'okay," replied Mulder, turning toward Scully and sliding his arms around her, returning her kisses with light ones of his own.

Scully felt Alex's arms wrap around her from behind and was totally enveloped in slippery, firm warmth. Mulder moved his arm up under head to pillow it, and she felt Alex snuggle his face in just behind hers, probably against Mulder's open palm. Alex slid his own arm up under her head too, bringing his hand to rest against Mulder's cheek. Mulder closed his eyes and nestled into the caress.

They fell asleep like that and didn't move until morning.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Chapter 11

Scully stirred as the light of impending dawn bathed her bedroom in soft pinky-lavendar. Her body hurt. She smiled at each ache. The room smelled so strongly of sex she didn't see how it would ever smell of anything else. She kinda liked that idea, but she did know that she was ready to wash it from her body. She wriggled carefully, extracting herself from between the two men on either side of her and climbing over one without waking either. She paused a moment at the foot of the bed, taking in the awe-inspiring sight before her.

The two men were facing each other, both of their arms lying up between their faces, where her head had been pillowed all night long. Mulder's palm was under Krycek's face and Krycek's was under Mulder's neck. When she had slipped out from beneath them, Mulder's other hand had slid from around the top of her chest to fall nestled in against Krycek's instead. Krycek's hand had fallen from her hip onto Mulder's, where it rested lightly, unaware.

It looked as though they had made love to one another, though Scully had actually been the focus of both men's attentions. She sighed at the thought, and then laughed silently, thinking that if either of them wanted any more action for a few days, they'd have to get it from one another because her body needed some major downtime. Her smile gentled as she imagined that last step being taken. Would Mulder reach out to possess Krycek finally and completely as she knew he'd always needed to, or would Alex finally reach out and take what was so obviously his for the asking? She was heady with her ruminations over it.

Of course, this wasn't only about sex, she reminded herself, as she turned on the shower. Both of these men loved her, and she knew now, after last night, that she loved them both back. She was also fairly certain that Alex loved Mulder, and that Mulder held some kind of deep, obsessive feeling for Alex, though she wouldn't exactly define it as love...yet. They would all three have to find a way to love each other, as more than two couples, she knew. As much as she felt connected to both men, she felt they were connected to one another. She stepped under the water and slowly, gently washed away the evidence of their lovemaking as she confirmed in her own mind that the next step in making this work was to help the two men who loved her to love each other.

She was toweling the water from her hair and walking back into the bedroom with that thought on her mind, when her lips curved into a huge smile. Her men had migrated in toward one another in her absence, and were now quite firmly and beautifully wrapped in one another's arms. All quite unknowingly, she was pretty sure. She felt her throat close at the sight and breathed back a wave of love for both of them. She stood there, frozen, watching them breathe against one another.

Alex's face was tucked in against Mulder's chest and Mulder's lips rested against Alex's silky hair. Mulder's arm had tightened around Alex's upper body and Alex had pulled in close against Mulder's hips, his arm wrapped securely around his waist. You could not have slipped a hand between the two men. And she wouldn't have wanted to. This was how it was supposed to be. She could see that now, and it was only beautiful. All of the wickedness and condemnation that had troubled her before faded away in the burning light of the certainty of the rightness of this.

Now they just needed to see it, too. She laid her towel to the side, slipping into her bathrobe and lowering herself into her chair, pulling her knees up in front of her. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. She cleared her throat loudly. She watched as both men twitched and shifted slightly, nestling in again and falling still. She didn't want to disturb this, but she wanted them to *know* they were feeling one another, not her.

"Boys." Her voice was loud in the silent dawn. Alex's head jerked up, dislodging Mulder's lips as he became instantly alert. He started to pull his hands back off Mulder's body, probably just in reaction to being startled awake. Mulder came awake as Alex's head pushed his up and off, and he slowly started to pull his arm back away from the other man's body, not even really aware of what he was doing.

"Hold still." Scully's voice was soft and gentle, but firm. She saw them both comply instantly. She watched, fascinated, as recognition began to dawn as their arms settled in back around each other tentatively. Alex's lips parted in surprise and he tried to look everywhere but in Mulder's eyes, which were narrowed and focused intently on him. Alex's arm on Mulder's body was tense, but he obeyed Scully's command and left it there, barely touching, slightly shaking. Mulder's arm was more relaxed, lying gently draped over Alex's upper arm. No one said anything, as Mulder stared at Alex and Alex tried hard not to stare back. Then just as Scully was about to sadly let them release one another, Mulder stroked his hand slowly down Alex's arm, causing Alex to instantly close his eyes and buck his hips with a gasp.

Scully's womb grew heavy as she struggled to breathe.

Alex appeared to be having the same problem, as Mulder's hand slowly brushed down off his arm, coming to rest on his hip. Mulder never took his eyes off his former nemesis, pinning him with what was quickly becoming a dark and hungry gaze. Alex's hand, which had been tensed and hovering at Mulder's hip, now clutched reflexively, pulling Mulder in harder against him. Mulder tilted his back a bit at the pleasure of their two bodies rubbing up against one another.

"Mulder..." Alex's voice sounded breathy and desperate and it made Scully's heart ache to hear it.

Mulder just shook his head slowly and moved in slowly toward a frozen, trembling Alex. Alex's eyes fluttered closed as Mulder pressed their mouths together. He moaned as Mulder slowly undulated his body against him, scooting in even closer than they had been before. Mulder sealed himself to the other man as their mouths gently moved against each other and their hips began identical, small thrusting movements.

Scully sat transfixed, her newly cleansed and quite exhausted sex growing wet again.

Alex was whimpering into the kisses now, his hunger for Mulder evident and exposed as he deepened the kiss, opening his mouth against Mulder's and devouring Mulder's lips and tongue fiercely. Mulder seemed to be just sinking into the sensations of loving Alex, adjusting his formerly trapped arm to wrap up around Alex's upper body, holding it close in against him, as his left firmly pressed Alex's hips against his own, his hand gently grasping one pale and perfect ass cheek. His hips began to move more quickly, thrusting harder, and Scully heard him begin to grunt into the kiss each time their bodies slapped together.

Alex's arms were clutching tight around Mulder's waist, as if they were afraid to move for fear that Mulder would try to escape. Alex's hips bucked frantically against Mulder's, his movements more hard and uncontrolled as their bodies impacted one another. Mulder's grunts drove higher and Alex's moans came more frequently until Mulder leaned back from kiss slightly, gasping, "Alex..."

Alex immediately groaned in response and came, sobbing out his pleasure against Mulder's neck as his hips bucked frantically against the other man's. "Mulder! Mulder...Mulder..."

Mulder moaned long and low and intensified his own thrusting, and before Alex had stopped gasping and thrusting against him, Mulder came too, jerking his hips in time with a grunting chant of "AL-...AL-...Alex...Alex...God..." At the sound of his name being cried by Fox Mulder in the throes of orgasm, Alex whimpered and moved his face up to take Mulder's mouth in a deep, groaning kiss. They finished out their climax together, kissing and stroking and pulling one another as close as they could get, grinding it to its conclusion, oblivious to Scully's rapt attention. Gradually, the kisses became less urgent, the men's lips parting, then joining, then parting again as they panted and swallowed and regained their senses. Finally, their lips parted one last time and they lay there, faces just inches apart, eyes heavy lidded and locked on one another with deep intensity.

It was the most incredible thing Scully had ever seen. She tried very hard to keep back the sob in her throat, not wanting to break the spell binding the two men together, but her emotions were just too raw and she choked it out and swallowed. Two pairs of eyes were instantly on her and she blinked, feeling the tears trickle down her cheeks and over her smiling lips.

A strained silence stretched between them as they all processed what had happened.

"Was it good for you?" Mulder said quietly in his usual deadpan fashion. Scully and Alex both chuffed out surprised laughter and Mulder smiled, obviously pleased at having broken the tense moment.

Scully took a deep breath, blinking back further tears. "You're just...beautiful together."

Mulder looked down for a minute, and Alex looked from Scully to Mulder as if he couldn't quite believe they were there.

"This is right...this is the way it should have been," she added, tilting her head, entreating the men to understand.

Mulder's eyebrows rose at that, but as he finally turned his attention back to the rapt green eyes focused in on his face, his expression softened and his lips curved in the slightest of smiles. "Beats smackin' the shit out of you," he said, stroking his thumb in gentle circles on Alex's hip.

"I'll say," answered Alex, sighing and relaxing his arms around Mulder, finally confident that Mulder didn't plan to leave.

"Make love, not war?" Scully added. Both men groaned in response, and not from pleasure. She smiled good-naturedly, as she watched them finally, slowly and gently disentangle from one another.

"You can shower first," Mulder offered, nestling in against the headboard, crossing one ankle over the other, looking very comfortable. Scully was amazed at his ability to adapt to a startling new situation. But then she realized that Mulder was not a stupid man, and was trained in psychology, and had probably had some idea that his feelings for Krycek could easily mutate into something like this, given the right catalyst.

Scully just *loved* being that catalyst. She watched Mulder watch Alex rise from the bed. He stretched his long, strong body luxuriously, then bent to offer her a light kiss before going into the bathroom in the hall. Only when the door closed did Mulder's gaze shift to the side, coming to rest on her own smirking expression.

"What?"

"Oh Mulder, it's just amazing to see you let yourself want him!" Scully shook her head, then lowered her feet to the floor, stretching herself in response to seeing Alex's obviously pleasurable manipulation of his body.

Mulder pursed his lips thoughtfully then raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "I guess once I realized what you wanted, I just gave myself permission to feel what I'd been denying all these years."

Scully sighed. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Mulder's mouth turned up in a half-grin, childishly thrilled at being able to say such momentous words so easily.

Scully's smile faded and her voice was quiet. "I was afraid..." She bit her lip. "I mean, I knew Alex...wanted you, but I was afraid that you wouldn't be able to handle it, and that I'd lose you." She looked down quickly, swallowing the tears that were threatening again.

Mulder sighed and leaned forward on the bed, getting to his feet and walking over to where Scully sat, looking at the carpet. He went down on one knee and reached up to raise her face with his fingertips. "You could never lose me, Scully. I'd do whatever you wanted me to. Anything. Don't you know that?"

Scully's mouth turned up in a smile.

"Not that it was a big sacrifice to screw your brains out then have sex with a man I've wanted to fuck practically since I laid eyes on him. Almost as long as I've wanted to fuck you."

Scully laughed at his crude candor, loving every second of it. "Oh Mulder...this is a side of you I didn't even know existed!"

"Well, Scully," Mulder responded with a smirk. "I can't say I expected my little straightlaced partner to want to make it with two men."

Scully blushed and tried to lower her face but Mulder held it in place, his expression going serious. "I *love* this side of you, Scully. I never want you to hide it from me again, do you hear me?"

She looked up into his face, smiling again and nodding. "And you don't sublimate your lust by beating up our Alex," she replied, smirking and stroking the side of Mulder's face.

"Deal," he said, leaning into her touch. "I'll just fuck the holy hell out of him to get all of that out of my system, finally."

Scully's lips parted on a quiet gasp as she felt her body grow very warm.

"Something you'd want to watch?" asked Mulder, already knowing the answer and grinning smugly.

Scully leveled her gaze at him and let her mouth curl up into a slow, sensuous, dangerous smile. It was all the answer he needed.

"But first I have to shower." Mulder trailed his long, graceful fingers down the side of her face softly, then got to his feet, stretching his back and rolling his shoulders.

"I agree," she said, smiling up into her true love's eyes in wonder.

Just then, the bathroom door opened and Alex exited in a cloud of warm steam, clothed only in a soft pink bath towel wrapped around his waist. Two pairs of eyes, one blue and one hazel, focused in on him hungrily. He stopped, a questioning look coming over his dark angel face.

"What?" he asked, readjusting the towel more tightly around his waist.

Scully just smiled, with a friendly raise of her eyebrows, as Mulder looked lazily from her face to Alex's, then brushed by him casually, walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Scully couldn't keep the evil grin off her face. Alex wouldn't know what hit him. She wriggled a little on the chair in anticipation, hardly able to bear the wait.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

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