Rue the Day

by Sebastian

Disclaimer: Characters created by 1013.

Pairing: M/Marita/K

Rated: A

Warning: Het with a slashy garnish.

Beta: Thanks to Dr. Ruthless for beta.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The room was muted shades of grey when I woke.

I had to ask myself where I was. It's not unusual for me to see the dawn break lying in an unfamiliar bed... a mediocre motel, usually, most often with the knowledge that Scully is sleeping the deep sleep of the innocent in a room next door.

The warmth, the slope of the mattress next to me reminded me that this morning I should be grateful she wasn't. Memory of last evening rolled over me like a gust of arctic wind; and damn that it wasn't a dream or a Martini-fuelled fantasy. I shivered under the night-warmed covers and watched the flimsy curtains fail to hold back the growing light. Slowly colour suffused the anonymous room, laid bare the evidence of my foolishness... the scattered clothes cast like sacks emptied of integrity, of the everyday masks and ripostes - possibly of lies.

A soft heat slid against my hip, then my companion sighed. I held my breath. If I could turn the clock back a few hours, if I could hide in drunken forgetfulness... there was simply no escape.

Lean limbs shifted, turned, rolling the slender mist-pale nakedness against my body, skin like white satin over slight bones. Her cheek nestled into my shoulder and her corn-silk hair lay gleaming on my skin. Slowly, I let air trickle into my lungs, praying she wouldn't wake. How could I excuse this to her, or pass it off as a joke? How to make myself accept what lay between us now?

Left leg sliding over my hip, arm lightly clasping my chest, she clung to me gently, a touch that promised to fuse her to my side should danger threaten. I felt her vulnerability, brave, frail against the plots that embroiled her. She trusted me. I could not trust her, but now I was in her power.

Another movement, and my knuckles brushed the floss of her groin. She sighed again, smiling against my skin, and pressed her mound against my hand as she slept. I let my fingers catch in that tangled hair... the strands glued by our passion - such wild passion, though not, I knew guiltily, for each other. She would smell of me, and I of her. Exhausted, we had separated, limp, sated, burdened with the secret we shared, then we drifted at once into our dreams.

Now, her breathing grew deeper, the generous nipples perking on her neat breasts as she awoke, felt my solidity at her side. He hand slid down my body, brushed the skin of my cock, fingers dancing over the fevered, piss-hard flesh.

I grunted, moved across to slide from the bed. "Bathroom," I said, walking briskly to the door as shame heated my skin. I heard the bedclothes rustle behind me and peeped back as I gently latched the door, to see her sprawled across my warmed patch of mattress like a Siamese basking in the sun.

Every muscle was twisted, drawn tight. I stood over the toilet bowl and stared into its white lens for minutes trying to calm myself. It was sweet relief when I finally induced my bladder to release the night's burden, such a human thing after the strange desire-wreathed hours of the night. I was alone now. Perhaps I could think of a plan; put on a new persona to define the new man I had become in her eyes?.

Warm water slithered round me as I lay back in the bath and played over this re-birth. That's how I felt - I was not the same as I had been yesterday. What had been my secret, my fantasy, was now hers too, and probably would soon be shared more widely. Pandora's box, molecules of air in a burst balloon. Entropy. No gathering the secret back inside me... dark, safe, precious.

It had started here in the bathroom. She'd been showering when I arrived, opened the door clad in an over-sized towel, shampoo garlanding her hair.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

"Come in, Agent Mulder. You're a little early. I'm not quite ready - as you can see. I don't expect Alex for another half hour." "I'm sorry," I said, holding open the door. "I don't know the area, I allowed plenty of time. I can come back in a while."

She shrugged one shoulder, and gave a small smile. "It's fine. Can you look after yourself for a few minutes while I finish?"

"Sure."

"Close the door, then, Mulder," she said gently as I hesitated. "There's coffee, if you don't mind hotel instant, and today's paper over by the bed. I think the TV remote is there, too."

"Yeah, thanks," I said. I felt tongue-tied. It had seemed perfectly reasonable to come here until I stood outside the door a few moments back. Now I was beginning to wonder who the Mulder was that had made such an appointment.

She raised a brow at my immobility, turned and went back into the bathroom, shutting the door. It wasn't until I heard the shower running that I pulled myself together, went to fetch the TV remote and switched it on.

What was playing I have no idea. I moved Marita's bag from the chair onto the bed and sat staring at the screen, but my mind was on the woman a few feet from me, and on Alex Krycek.

I've known Marita Covarrubias for several years. She was a secretary with the United Nations when we first met, though it wasn't long after that I discovered her involvement with the Consortium, and her acquaintance with Krycek. It hadn't been entirely a surprise when she contacted me a few days ago to offer me some information about a consignment lost by her side, though her motives were probably duplicitous. I suspected that they had not been able to recover the goods and, as a final resort, hoped we might turn up something they couldn't. I considered it doubtful that I would glean anything of value to my quest. However, any chance to gain some small insight into the Consortium's schemes is worth pursuing.

Who are you trying to kid? I asked myself. Any logical weighing of the usefulness of this meeting went out of the window when she told me Krycek would be bringing the information. He'd have the latest, she said. He'd been in the field.

I smiled grimly. I wondered if she'd picked up on the eagerness in my voice as I'd agreed.

I suppose an obsession - an infatuation - with a murderous spy isn't unreasonable. No-one questions the millions who glorify... swoon over... James Bond. Krycek may have lacked the Aston Martin and the taste for cocktails but I'd be his Pussy Galore at the drop of a hat, I thought cynically. I shivered as I imagined his hands running over my skin, his breath on my neck, his kiss...

As the minutes crawled past my anxiety increased. The gut-twisting longing to see him again was turning to dread and shame. Trying to divert my mind I started speculating if maybe Krycek did have the fast cars, the jet-set lifestyle? What did I know of him, after all? He wasn't about to show me his true colours. Indeed, his character slid like pieces of a puzzle, a new configuration, a new face uppermost each time we met.

And each time, every time, I wanted him more.

Who was he truly? The eager-beaver new boy? The traitor full of excuses, cringing from my fists? The rebel fanatic, sacrificing all for humanity? None of these, most likely. All a façade, a sham.

I was startled when Marita reappeared, I'd been so wrapped up in my thoughts. Her thick towelling bathrobe swamped her, seemed almost big enough to wrap around her slim body twice over. Without makeup, with her damp hair, she looked childlike, defenceless. She regarded me a little sourly.

"Have you eaten, Agent Mulder?" she said. "Because I could do with a drink, at least."

"I had a snack earlier; when you made the appointment for ten I simply worked late and stopped on the way here for a burger."

"There's a bar next door. Alex will come looking for me there if I'm not here. We've used this place before. I'll be ready in a few minutes." She didn't imply I had an option to refuse.

"Find the hairdryer for me, would you?" She retired to the bathroom with a handful of clothes. I snorted with laughter, this seemed altogether too normal for a meeting of enemies, an exchange of earth-trembling information. Where was the drama? Perhaps it would arrive with Krycek I thought, and felt suddenly weak again.

Stupid, stupid... put the fantasies back under the bed, Mulder.

When Marita returned, she was cased in her ice-queen armour once more. Like Scully, her clothes are a weapon, a statement of purpose, not an adornment. Her slimness was accentuated by the silky top and brief grey skirt she wore, and her spike-heeled shoes made her at least three inches taller. She shook out her wet hair and sat before the mirror at the vanity where I'd left the dryer, picked up a hairbrush and glanced at me over her shoulder.

"Work the dryer for me, would you, Mulder? It's so much quicker."

I grunted uncomprehendingly. She drew a breath, and said, "Just imagine it's a gun, Mulder. Point it at my head, and pull the trigger." She picked it up and passed it to me. "Don't worry. It's probably safe. I haven't had a shock off one of these yet."

I stood like a fool. She leaned her head to one side and raised a brow, staring at me until I turned the machine on. "Just hold it still, if you want. I'll do the rest," she said and bent towards the hot air, fluffing her hair with the brush.

I was too surprised to do more than hold still as she rocked her head to and fro, the cornsilk strands of hair lifting in the warm gust.

"You have pretty hair," I commented, surprising myself. "It's ethereal."

"It's unmanageable," she retorted. I responded by swinging the hairdryer from side to side, sending her fine hair flying in a halo around her head. She reached over and pulled the plug from the socket. "Stop it, Mulder. It'll look like a mop." Her voice was sharp, but she looked as though she was suppressing a laugh. Catching her hair in her hand, she twisted it around and picked up a grip to hold it up on top of her head.

I put my hand out, just touching her wrist. "No don't, Marita. Please?"

She drew back, raising her brows. "Why?"

I shrugged. I didn't know why, except that this meeting had already started out oddly, and I didn't want to fall back into our formal postures - at least until Krycek arrived. Then the shutters would be slammed back into place.

"I like it down," I said lamely.

She laughed. It didn't seem natural for her, I was taken aback. "Alright, Mulder. Just for you."

She stood and slipped on a light jacket, swung her bag onto her shoulder and walked to the door. Once again my mind didn't seem to be making the connections between her actions and how I should respond. It was as if I had been thrown into a totally alien society where the most commonplace gesture or movement could trigger a bizarre reaction. Holding open the door she asked, "Are you coming?"

"Uh... yeah." I flapped my hands as if trying to catch words, my scattered thoughts. I heard their teasing laugh as they slipped through my fingers. "Yes."

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The bar had only a few patrons. Marita chose an isolated booth well at the back, away from the door. She ordered a sandwich with her Martini. Like a fool, I had a Martini too, closely followed by a second. I don't drink a lot, but I had to do something; I was almost shaking as I sat and tried to make small talk with her as we awaited Krycek. He was already more than half an hour late when her cellphone rang.

"He's delayed. He'll be here early in the morning. Do you want to wait, Mulder?"

Her tone was brusque, her eyes shifted from mine as she spoke.

"Did he change his mind, Marita?" It sounded harsher than I intended. Fuck, I wanted to see him so desperately, the disappointment was physical - and caught me unawares.

She drew back her head and blinked, as if I'd waved a fist in her face. "He's coming. Just a glitch. He said, not before seven, definitely by nine." She frowned at her watch. "It's nearly eleven, now. Do you want to come back tomorrow?"

I sighed deeply. "It was an hour's drive, Marita. It's not worth it, and I might get caught up in the commuter traffic in the morning and be very late. I'll stick around."

"Do you want to get a room? You can sleep in mine if you like, if you are worried about hiring one and having this appear on your credit card... "

"The little wife at home would question me, you think? Or has it got around that Scully watches my every move?"

"We've known that for quite a while, Agent Mulder," she said, dryly. "Are you implying that she might come looking for you, if you aren't tucked up in bed by midnight?"

"She has no compunction about calling me... "

"Or you, her. We know that also."

I grinned. "If I'd known you were listening, Ms Covarrubias, I'd have got down and dirty with Scully, trying to surprise a gasp from you."

"I try not to pick up that duty, Agent Mulder. It is tedious."

I blushed. Memories... no, please... Alex was there again, bright eyed rookie, standing before me as I transcribed surveillance tapes.

"And sometimes embarrassing," she added, amused at my confusion.

I cleared my throat self-consciously and looked right at her. "I will wait, if that's OK, Marita. I can sleep a while in a chair in your room. I don't sleep a lot anyhow, so, as long as I won't disturb you?"

"Fine," she said. "Well, since you don't have to drive back, shall we have another drink?"

I agreed too quickly. I was nervous, looking for a crutch. I could posture with Krycek; we had our roles and could communicate through them. I didn't have a baseline with Marita. How I was going to pass the rest of this evening, for instance?

The drinks came; I looked at her slender fingers on the stem of the fluted glass. The nails were cut short - no varnish, unlike Scully's - their pink blush like fine porcelain. Whose hands did hers hold in love, I wondered, whose body shivered under her soft caresses? Surely even Marita, the remote Snow Queen, had passion somewhere within? It was the drink, I realised later, that had set me on this track. Alcohol and Krycek; a heady cocktail.

"Is this all your life, Marita? Or have you a family somewhere?"

"That's an odd question coming from you, Mulder," she said, coolly. "Your dedication to your job is almost complete, I'm surprised you consider anyone else to be any different."

"Dedication to my own goals," I said wryly. "When I've been put on mundane projects I'm as much a nine-to-fiver as the next man. That's when I notice the empty space in my life and wonder if I know how to be human. Well? Whatever it is that you do, what do you do when you're not doing it?"

She sat back and lifted her glass to her lips, sipping as she considered the question. "I read a lot," she said, finally. "I travel an enormous amount... you know what it's like... hours of tedium. I pass the time with a book. But that isn't what you mean, is it Mulder?" She placed her glass down precisely on the centre of the drip mat and gazed into my eyes. "Why should I tell you?"

My mouth opened and closed impotently a couple of times until finally I said, "No reason, I suppose. I wasn't asking for details, more a philosophy, I guess."

She snorted, curling her lip. "You like gossip, Mulder. Admit it."

I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh, but she was so right.

"Investigation is an 80-20 split between gossip and science, I'm sure. Tell me the colour of your panties, and I'll build a case."

"And if I don't wear any?"

"I'll arrest you right now, for incitement to crime."

"That's ...flirting, Mulder?"

"I'm guessing... dusky pink," I replied, lifting a brow. "Is that better, Marita? I could use some guidance here. Scully tells me that I need a lighter touch."

"You... flirt... with Agent Scully?" She blinked and grimaced.

"Scully says not. I think 'lecherous remarks' and 'not in this lifetime' have been mentioned. Also 'adolescent'. Guess I just don't have the knack."

She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand, studying me. "I flirt, Mulder," she said wryly, "when I can. I'm not often in the right place or with the right people. You are very attractive, you know. You have the most beautiful mouth... "

I flushed, then leaned back against the side of the booth and tried to force myself to meet her eyes. Suddenly my suit felt hot and itchy as if its silk weave had turned into horsehair.

"I can already tell that you are more accomplished than me, Marita," I mumbled sheepishly.

"I like tall men. Most of my lovers have been tall... Alex for instance." She smiled knowingly at my reddening face. "That's what you wanted to hear, wasn't it?"

I choked on my mouthful of drink and began to cough convulsively. Every eye on the place seemed to swivel to stare at me; my face turned purple as I tried to catch my breath. I was mortified, but when I looked at Marita she seemed like the cat that had got the cream.

"He would have spent tonight with me, I expect," she murmured, pressing home her advantage. "He's good at sex - a little rough, but I don't mind that sometimes."

I bent over the table to whisper, "I didn't... please, Marita... I didn't mean to be impertinent. I was just trying to make conversation."

She moved still closer. The perfume she wore made me giddy, made me think of deep piled carpets in exclusive stores, hushed temples whose glittering shelves carefully displayed icons of femininity, a dainty glove, a bracelet, a draped silk scarf.

"Don't fence with me, Mulder," she breathed. "I'll beat you at this, every time. And if we're conversing, it may as well be about a mutual interest, don't you think?"

"I'm not interested in Krycek."

"Like hell you're not, Agent Mulder." She was amused; I was torn between running for my life, my sanity, and begging her for more. "Perhaps you're about to discover the Marita that lives outside the intrigues. Would you like that, Mulder? You won't learn any useful secrets, though I suspect I will."

She let her knuckles trace my cheek. I was thankful I'd taken the chance for a shower and shave before I left for this appointment. I hadn't wanted to look rumpled in front of Krycek. I needed to be every inch the perfect fibbie. It was part of my denial, my mask. But now tension and anticipation were making me feel damned uncomfortable.

"Are you willing to risk it?"

She took my hand between hers and led it between her leaning body and the table top, brushing it against her breast. The nipple was hard, a knot pressing into my skin. I would have snatched my hand back but she held it fast. "He always starts here, Mulder, even before he kisses me. He pinches my nipples until I gasp. By the time I'm undressed there are often bruises showing. He doesn't care. He likes to own me when we have sex, and I like that too."

She released me and I quickly cowed back in my seat.

"Professionally, we have a great deal of respect for each other... " She carded her hair back from her face with her hands, and licked her lips. "But everyone lets their hair down sometimes. I'm sure it's good for me."

"For you, too," she added, with a hard smile.

I bit my lip and stared at her. I was completely at a loss for words. Was this a vamp act, a task given to her by her controllers and the 'information' non-existent? Maybe so, but my body was raring to go, even if my mind was throwing up objections. The trouble was, it wasn't Marita that I wanted so much I was prepared to throw caution to the winds, it was the idea of Krycek with her, of what she would say about him, about their relationship.

She knew it. I may as well have had it written on my forehead.

"I can let my hair down," I said tightly. My eyes gripped hers. "With you, Marita."

"Because I've had something you want?"

I let my eyes roam over her; she was elegant as a gazelle... smooth long limbs supporting a neat, finely formed body, aloof, nimble. She was proud, with an undercurrent of silken menace that counterpointed Alex. I could see them together, their harmony. I wanted to be a part of it.

"Can I deny it?"

"Why bother, Mulder? I know."

That directness gave me food for thought. "Does he?" I asked, my voice reluctant, soft.

She shook her head. "I've watched you watching him. He hasn't noticed."

At first, I was disappointed. Then I knew I'd have been more disappointed to know that he had realised my attraction to him, but had dismissed it. Still, it was all ridiculous, futile. What the fuck would I do if he did respond, did want me, too? We couldn't be lovers. The very word 'love' was nonsense in the context of our names.

"If you've noticed, I wonder who else has," I said sardonically. Not much escaped Scully's eye, for instance. My guts roiled; suddenly the miasma of greasy food and beer in the bar was overwhelming. I needed air.

"Have you finished your drink, Marita?"

The air was gelling around me; I had to get out. I lurched to my feet and made for the door. I heard her footsteps behind me, then her arm linked through mine. Her touch was a burn through the layers of cloth, her nearness an intoxication. I could smell Krycek at my shoulder.

"I'll go," I said. "I can come back tomorrow." Damn, this was getting so intense. I wasn't prepared to open myself up to Marita Covarrubias - not here, now - not ever. I would have carried on over the parking lot to my car but she tugged at me to stop. "I will get back, I'll make sure I'm here early."

"Don't be foolish, Agent Mulder." Her face was stony. "You've had far to much to drink. What are you frightened of? Of me? Or yourself?"

I shrugged, looked at her impassively. Behind, traffic on the highway droned on unknowingly, lights making a transient space, passing pocket universes, dramas, tragedies, confrontations such as this; all uncaring, in ignorance. A moment, space and time privately created for the two of us; we were alone, an opportunity presented and I hadn't the guts to follow it through.

A gust whipped her hair across her face, golden web lifting and the red/green neon behind glimmering through. Krycek had touched it; he held her, knew her lithe body. I stepped forward, pushed the strands away as she tipped her head up to look at me. Chewing at my lip, I studied her face. It gave no clue to her feelings.

"OK, Marita," I replied to the question she hadn't voiced. Softly, I touched my mouth to hers, teased her lips with my tongue, kissed her.

There was a catch in her breath, then her hand gripped my lapel and drew me closer as she responded, stroking her tongue into my mouth. Her body glowed with passion, her firm body pressed against me sensuously, learning in that first touch how to shape itself to mine.

I was drowning in the scent of her, already lost in her uninhibited response. Wrapping my arms around her, I deepened the kiss to bruise her, imagining, as she intended, that I was Alex himself claiming his due.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

She wouldn't let me put the light on in the room. Lurid colours washed patches of the walls, mutating as the signs blinked and rippled like the background to a pulp detective comic. They striped and spangled her skin as I slowly unclothed her, each garment fine gossamer, slithering over her lean limbs and through my fingers to drop with a whisper to the floor.

I knelt to slide her stockings from their clasps and stroke them down her legs, lifting each foot in turn to rest on my knee. "Does he do this?" My voice was a throaty whisper. They were the first words I'd uttered since we'd been outside.

Her fingers danced in my hair, brushed my ear. "Treat me like a princess? One or twice. He's an impatient man, usually." She sighed and stretched as I stroked the baby skin inside her thighs, tugged at my hair to make me look up at her. "See him come into the room, a shark smile on his face, pull me to him, kiss me hard." I stared at her, open mouthed. "You kiss me now, Mulder, and I'll tell you more."

Reverently I touched my lips to the silk and lace of her panties. The cloth was springy, the wiry curls palpable through the sheer cloth. Her essence was the merest hint behind the perfume she wore. She was femininity disguised, packaged as fuel for man's dreams. I slipped my fingers under the taut cloth, slid them to the floor.

"He kisses me, Mulder; his arms and chest feel huge. They enclose me. Trap me. Imagine them around you - the smell and the creak of his leather jacket, the thick muscle of his shoulders under your hands." Her hand slid round to the back of my neck, slowly caressing and she parted her legs a little as I teased her golden fuzz with my tongue, stroking ever closer to her slit. "His hand slides to my thighs, pushes my skirt up quickly, and then his hand is between my legs, feeling for the slick that's there for him already; that was there before he'd arrived, at the very thought of him."

As I opened, licked her sweet flesh, she drew a deep breath and continued dreamily, "By now I've undone his belt, and I'm tugging on his zipper. His penis springs out at me, solid, bigger around than my hand. Its skin is silken, hot. It throbs against my palm, leaves its own moisture on me. He's been thinking of me, too."

Hot. I was hot too, my clothes hanging on me like lead, my cock squeezed against the twisted cloth of my pants. I got to my feet, began pulling off my jacket. Her hand brushed my fly, opened my trousers and slid within, closing firmly round my hardness. "Are you wet, too, Mulder? Does thinking of him turn you on? Or is this for me?"

I closed my eyes. Bliss, to feel another's touch there, to know she and I had the same goal. How much truth should I give her, though? I needed to know that she was using me, as I her. I put my hand over hers, slid it up to the clinging dampness of the cloth of my boxers. "You are beautiful, Marita. I couldn't imagine you like this... " It was true. White and gold, like a willow sapling in springtime... naked, she was like a nymph. "I would... "

I paused, without hesitation she boldly filled my silence. "I would... get a hard-on eventually, but this is for Alex?" It was crude and forthright. She took my other hand and placed it against her cunt. I could feel the thick, hot wetness there. I slid a couple of fingers inside her - easy, slippery, there was no effort or resistance. "Me too. You're quite something, Mulder, but you're not him."

"Thank you," I said, smiling. I leaned in to kiss her, pulling my fingers out to stroke her clit gently. "You're quite something, too. Other than I expected." I reached to pull my pants down; she started on my shirt. "Tell me more, Marita. Please?"

She made a moue at me, and silently continued to undress me, until we both stood naked.

"He strips off my panties, lifts me onto him, thrusts inside, and fucks me. What else? We don't undress. He rarely bothers to prepare me." She took my cock, pulled her slit open with a couple of fingers, and rubbed herself with the head, mixing my juice with her own. Her body shimmied as she pleasured herself. "Would you like that, Mulder? Have him walk in, strip you, take you without a single word spoken?"

"No... Yes... fuck it, Marita, he can't be that... crude."

"He needs, Mulder. He's a hireling, he's treated like shit. I treat him like shit too, sometimes - that's the way it is. I feel bad about it. So I don't begrudge him."

"Payback?"

"In a way. But afterwards - he's sweet, Mulder. He's forceful, but loving. He cares."

"He should care about this," I said thoughtfully, smoothing her dark nipples with my fingertips. I leaned in and brushed soft kisses over her neck. "Generous, giving... I wouldn't have suspected... " It wasn't the same person; this loving Marita. I couldn't believe it was just an act. Cool skin against my lips, a deep pulse of life blood. She quivered, sensitive to my touch. Her fragility allured me, though still, it was her helplessness in his hands that span through my thoughts.

She pushed me back, went to turn the bed down, and sat, nodding at me to join her. "Once he's done, he's different. If there's time, he'll stay. He'll talk. We undress and go to bed ...talk, and take it slowly." She smiled. "What would you say, Agent Mulder, if you had him in your bed?" She placed her hand on my shoulder and pushed me to lie down. "Have you ever thought that far? Or does it begin and end with a fuck?"

It was good to lie relaxed, pillowed and let her fingers play over me, explore me. I let my mind wander around her question, hoping her hand would find its way to my groin. "There's a hundred questions I could ask, but not the sort you'd ask in bed. If he were there, I wouldn't need to ask if he knew I wanted him - that'd be redundant. I could ask him if he loved me... " That had simply slipped out. I bit my lip, squeezed my eyes shut as I felt a blush rise. "Loved me... that's a laugh. Says a lot about my mindset, eh?"

She tilted her head to the side and smiled sympathetically. "I've asked him that, Mulder, more than once. At first he was silent. These days he says - and he sounds a little sad - 'I wish that I could.'"

She straddled me and started to lick and nibble at my nipples, then down my torso to flick at my navel.

"I love to do this to him," she breathed. "I love his body; so strong... the hard muscles of his chest, his firm buttocks... pale-skinned... with a wisp of dark hair just at the top of the crack, his wide back.

"Can you see him? Lying on his stomach, the fat muscles in his arms defined as he lies with his head pillowed on his hands, his ass clenching as you kiss his thighs."

A hot pulse pounded from my heart and my whole body tingled, suffused with blood and arousal as she continued

"You pry those tight buttocks apart; there's the smell of him, warm, rich, as good as new baked bread - you have to taste. You run your tongue over the top of the crease, where that swirl of hair is, and slowly work down. As you get closer to his anus, you can feel his breathing quicken, his body stir, strain towards you, and then the tiny pucker is under your tongue, and he draws a huge breath, holding it as you tease a little into the hole."

"Yes," I murmured, "Oh, Marita... what are you doing to me?" My cock was on fire, so hard, aching for the man she conjured.

"Sharing, Mulder, with the only one who'd understand," she whispered.

Her hand stroked down my belly, slipped down between my thigh and body to cup my balls, roll them gently. My cock brushed her cheek, I felt her breath on it, then her tongue lapped the drops leaking and dripping down the shaft.

"And his... penis... ?" I croaked, ashamed to ask but terrified that she would stop. I was so tense, shivering under her soft hands.

"Not like yours." I felt her lips move against my engorged flesh as she spoke. "Not cut, not quite so big... pinker too. Your skin is sallower than his. When he's aroused, you can se the rosy tip of his glans where his foreskin stretches open. I like to suck the edge of his foreskin between my lips, run my tongue down inside it, lick the head. It's so vulnerable. You daren't touch it with your fingers, it's too sensitive, it hurts... reactive as a clitoris, Mulder. But maybe you know?"

He mouth descended over the end, and I bucked up against her as she stroked my flesh knowingly with her mouth and tongue. "Are you asking me if I've ever sucked cock, Marita?" I gave a breathy laugh, then groaned as she pulled away.

"I suppose I am." She sounded amused. "Well?"

"I know." I'd never talked of this to a woman before. I couldn't imagine ever doing so, but now, here, I knew it didn't matter, it would be exciting, intimate. "I haven't had many like that... two or three, perhaps. I like it, like giving blow-jobs that is; you're in control, you can make them beg. It's different when they're whole, though. The cock head's like the skin inside your mouth, or like a woman's labia - something within, private. I wish I knew myself how it feels to be like that."

I smiled down at her, stroked her hair and cheek. "Turn around, Marita, and let me at you, huh? I like licking pussy, too."

She lifted a delicate brow, bobbed her head in consent and lifted herself over me, lowering her hips until I could just reach her with the tip of my tongue. Drips of clear juice plopped on my face as I strained upwards to caress her lips, her tiny clit. "Slowly, gently," she murmured. "All this talk of Alex has got me as excited as it has you, Mulder." She engulfed me again with her mouth as the mention of his name pulled me once more into thoughts of him, lying here, his beautiful lips pressing kisses on her thighs, his pink tongue delving into her cunt, licking out the nectar that oozed for him.

Her blond hair brushed over my crotch as she slid her lips up and down my shaft. A hand reached down beneath my balls to press there, giving little tweaks to my prostate that were unbearable bliss. I gripped her flanks, pushed her away from my face and said, "I'd rather come inside you, Marita, if that's OK?" A thought occurred, like a cold hand clenching within my chest. "Fuck, condoms... I never thought... "

She moved over to sit beside me, drifted her fingers up my bobbing cock. "Worried you'll catch something, Mulder?" She pursed her lips and stared at me.

"I... aren't you? For goodness sake, Marita, you could get pregnant."

"That would be amusing," she said, "though inconvenient." She lifted her leg and straddled me again, this time face to face, and lowered herself until my penis was trapped beneath her buttocks. "I'm clean, Mulder, and our sources tell us that you are, too. I'll risk the baby." There was an unlikely twinkle in her eye. I looked at her suspiciously. "Come on, Mulder, if I wanted to bear your child I'd have made a play a few years back."

"I think I should be disappointed, and a tad insulted now," I said, then added curiously, "Have you ever had a child, Marita?"

"Yes... and no, it wasn't Alex's and I really don't want to talk about it right now, Mulder." She sounded a little exasperated, but she was smiling.

"Back to the job in hand, huh?"

She wriggled her pretty ass and said, "Please."

I pulled her down for a long slow kiss, wrapped my arms round her slight frame to hug her. Her fingers dug into my arms as she deepened the kiss, thrust her tongue into my mouth hungrily, then pushed herself back up to kneel above me. My hands followed her, cupped her breasts, and I rolled her long, brown-red teats between my fingers, feeling them stiffen and pucker. She'd said Krycek liked to bruise her, but there was no blemish now on her ivory skin. I wouldn't be other than gentle; perhaps she'd prefer it otherwise, but women seem so fragile, so easy to hurt.

If it had been him above me, then it would be different. By now he'd be covered in bites and marks from my sucking mouth. I slid my hands down her flanks, stroked her smooth thighs. To be pinned beneath him, his hardness holding me down, his weighty cock rearing over me... I arched against the mattress, lifting her, wishing the load were too much, that I was trapped.

Hitching herself higher, she gripped my cock, then lowered herself over it. It slid in easily, the slick walls of her vagina bumping over the shaft until it was engulfed snugly inside her hot tunnel. Panting, she flopped forward slightly to prop herself on my shoulders and look down at me.

"Would you want him to do this?" Her voice was a breathless whisper. "Impale himself on you, Mulder? Take that huge dick inside his body? Not wait for you to act, for you to take charge, but offer submission, sacrifice himself, show that he likes being fucked up the ass so much that he's beyond any coyness or pretence?"

She moved herself on me, and it was sweet, she clutched me in a glove of steel and velvet, sending her words to a place where I could respond without thought. I groaned in bliss as I said, "Not at first, Marita. I'd want him to try to refuse me, to accept me unwillingly, cry as I thrust him hard into the bed with his butt in the air. He'd want it really, though. He'd come hard, denying with his body his lying words. He'd be pretending to be the straight guy, tell me he hated what I was doing, trying to keep his dignity. But in the end, he wouldn't be able to resist me. One day he'll come to me and do just as you're doing, show me how totally he was mine."

I could barely think now. A smoke of utter rapture suffused my body; all there was, was me, within her. I licked my fingers, reached down to rub gentle circles over her secret folds, the tiny nub of pleasure hidden within, feeling her grip me in ripples of involuntary reaction.

"Would he do that, or is that really you, Mulder? Is that how you dream you would be in his hands?"

"No." The word was a whimper. "No... if he touched me, I'd be his. Right away. There'd be no hiding. I want him so much." Each word was gasped, staccato, as I thrust up to meet her, urging her with fingers and cock to her own completion. It was a knife of pure pleasure in my loins, to drive into her, to dream aloud of him. Then, like the drop of a rollercoaster, unstoppable, heartwrenching, the orgasm gripped me, sent my seed pumping into her. One hand gripped her ass, the other pressed her clit as I gritted my teeth, but the word still escaped, "Alex... "

She gasped, a hint of a laugh, then, "Yess... " Her hand pressed mine deeper against her cunt, and her strong muscles flexed against my shaft, sucking and milking me dry. "Yes," she groaned, "Always Alex... "

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

We'd slept then. I felt relaxed with her, in the afterglow. Morning brings back reality, however, and now I was lying in the tub wishing that last night could gurgle with the soapy water down the drain. I'd taken a while, avoided the confrontation by hiding in the bathroom. At length she knocked, asking if I'd finish soon.

"I need the bathroom, Mulder," she said, "You know... "

"Oh! Sorry," I said, realising after a moment what she meant. I hurriedly wrapped a towel round my waist and opened the door, still wet. She looked at me with a small smile, quite relaxed in her nakedness. Her clothes hung over her arm.

"It's still early," she said as she brushed past me. "He won't be here for a while. Could you rustle up some coffee?"

I put the machine on to heat, looked around for my clothes, then remembered too late that I'd done as she had, all but my jacket, socks and shoes were in the bathroom. Well, she'd be out soon enough and there was nearly an hour before Krycek was due. If I'd had my briefcase with me, there was some reading I could have caught up on, but I hadn't. Since I was wide awake I took some hotel notepaper and a pen, sat on the bed and began to sketch out some ideas about a couple of cases we had in hand.

I suppose it was kismet that Krycek should be early.

I didn't even notice when the door opened, I suppose my subconscious thought it was Marita leaving the bathroom. You don't miss the end of a silencer against the side of your head, though, and the boots and jeans that the gunman was wearing had nothing to do with Marita's style. "Mulder," he said, and his husky voice was a sin. "Well, well... "

It's at times like this a towel feels totally inadequate.

"Alexandria's a long way away, Krycek."

"And you thought you'd save the bureau a little in hotel expenses?" He gestured with his gun. "Get up."

"Can't you threaten me just as well sitting down?"

Something would be blatantly obvious if I stood. His presence gets me excited anyway, but after last night, then confronting him half-nude... if I've ever had more of a raging hard-on, I can't remember it.

"Nope. Get up."

"Fuck you, Krycek," I snarled, embarrassment making me angry. "You asked me here to give me information, not to execute me."

"That was before, Mulder."

"Before what, asshole?" Stupidly, I leapt to my feet at that, the better to make my point. God, those eyes, I could die to see myself in them. Probably would, one of these days.

He glanced down, and smirked. "Didn't she put out, Mulder?" He poked my stomach with his gun. "Take it off."

"You're not serious," I said, fixing my gaze on his face, not wanting to look down, to acknowledge what he could see.

"Marita! Hey, Alex is here!" I called, but he wouldn't be diverted. He brought his hand up swiftly, clipping me on the chin with the gun. "Take it off," he repeated, coldly.

I groaned, cupped my chin in my hand. It hurt furiously and was bleeding a little. "You must be hard-up for a thrill, Krycek," I sneered.

"Just want to see what you've been offering Marita, and why she's refused it." His mouth stretched into a wide smile, his glittering eyes mocking me. Christ, considering all the times I've been naked in front of him in my dreams, I couldn't imagine how hard it would really be to do it. "You'd better not have upset her, Mulder, or you won't be using that tackle of yours for weeks... C'mon. This is getting tired." The gun weaved before my face. I drew a deep breath, pulled the fold of my towel apart. All I wanted was to lean forward those few inches and kiss him; his lips were so pink; those long-lashed eyes of his flicking from mine to my hands and back, ever vigilant. Surely he could see the longing, the desire in my face... I felt ripped open.

I let the towel drop to the floor.

I'd forgotten how to breathe.

His face swam before me... was I going to faint?

"Alex, what's going on?"

She stood in the bathroom doorway, chill, perfect, in total control.

"Just having a little fun with the FBI, Marita." He chuckled, glanced at her, then back at me. "Has he been bothering you with his grubby little advances, sweet lady? Do you want me to put him in his place?"

I wanted to curl up with humiliation, standing there, nude, erect, before the two of them. I could make a grab for his gun, but frankly, I was starting to wonder again if it was a set-up, if Marita would turn on me if I made an aggressive move.

She nodded, gesturing him back, then came up to my side, faced him and put a cool hand on my shoulder. "On the contrary, Alex. He's been the perfect gentleman, and has given me a delightful night which I shall remember always."

He put his head back, raised his brows as he looked at her in amusement. "You let him have you, babe? He's quite the lucky one, then. But I see that either you were sparing with your favours, or poor Agent Mulder has been making out with his hand for so long his dick thinks it's got some catching up to do."

"Perhaps I'm just so sexy he can't get enough?"

"That must be the one, sweetness... I know just how that feels... How about a kiss, huh?"

"Sure," she said. She went to him, put her arms around his neck and reached to press her lips to his. I could see his face soften, his eyes half-shut in delight; I stood enthralled. I could have escaped then, but all that I could think was how I wished it were me in his arms.

"Stop gaping, Mulder," he said softly. My cock twitched hearing my name suddenly in that voice... mink... sable... it stroked my ears. I bit my lip, looked down. All the words that came to me were foolish protestations of adoration. Imagine, out of the blue, the words raining in a summer storm, warm torrents pouring from the heavy clouds, soaking him in the futile love I bore him.

No, not an option.

"Maybe we should let him relieve himself of his... problem, Marita," he murmured. "He seems in pain." He cocked his head to the side as if thinking. "Want to spank the monkey, Mulder? I can wait... "

"What? You... filthy bastard, Krycek." I reached for the towel, but instantly that gun was at my head.

"I won't kill you today, Mulder - you know I won't, don't you? But I'd love to mess you up a bit. I know you think it's fun, after all, why else would you do it to me?" The barrel of the gun riffled the bristles at my nape. "Stand up, G-man, and put your hand on your dick."

"Go screw yourself, I'm not doing it," I snarled. Yet all the while, my stubborn cock was stiff as an iron rod.

"Let him be, Alex," she said calmly. "If it's my influence, I should deal with it. Stand aside, let me talk to him."

He shrugged and stepped back a few paces. "If you want to play, darling, help yourself."

She slipped her arms around me and breathed in my ear, too low for him to hear, "I'm going to give you a treat, Mulder. A blow-job. And, all the time, Alex will be watching. Won't that be good?"

I gasped, feeling myself flush all over. Good? It would finish me... "No, just give me what I came for and let me go, Marita. Please?" I muttered.

"Fuel those fantasies, Mulder. He won't know if you can keep a grip... "

"No," I said sharply, putting my hands to her waist to lever her off.

"Mulder, Mulder, you shouldn't refuse a lady. If she wants to see you jack off, you must indulge her."

She turned to look at him over her shoulder. "I offered him a blow-job instead, Alex. Tell him he'll love it." She smiled back at me, saying clearly, "You'll never know he's there, I'll make you feel so good, you'll mistake him for a lamp."

He lifted the gun, drew a bead down the barrel towards my head. "Last chance, Spooky. I think it would be really rude to refuse that offer; any more hesitation and I'll have to show you how mad you're making me." His bottom lip pouted, as it does when he's thinking. "Perhaps it's a little un-gentlemanly of me to mention it, but she's as good as she says, you know."

She leaned in again to whisper, "I've never known him torment anyone this way, Mulder. Maybe you're special?"

Pulling back, she looked questioningly at me, then smiled. Special, to be degraded like this? In my heart, I longed somehow to believe it was so, that he'd abuse me this way because he couldn't get near me, make his own fantasies come true. Self-indulgent notion, yet it was enough to push me over the edge. I bowed my head, then looked back up at her and said, "OK."

She kissed me swiftly, a mere peck, then sank gracefully to her knees before me. I was exposed to him again; she'd been my shield for a few moments there in my arms. I tried to keep my eyes on his face defiantly, make out that I didn't care about his crass and stupid prank. Yet my heart was tearing apart with hurt and hopeless longing.

I couldn't believe that I was still aroused, that this situation was turning me on. Shocking , to discover one has such secrets from oneself. But it was so; at her first touch I bucked against her - I wouldn't last long.

Her hot mouth sucked me in, one hand rested on my hip, the other was holding my shaft, controlling the motion as she slowly began. I watched Krycek watching her.

I saw his mouth part, there was a glint of teeth, then his tongue, gleaming, wet, slid to moisten his lips. His whole concentration was on her, he'd lowered his gun, was holding it in both hands loosely in front of his crotch. Damn, if I was going to do this, I at least wanted his eyes on me, I wanted to look at that fly too, see if he was getting off on this...

"Do this often, do you, Krycek? Whore your girlfriend?" Hopefully Marita wouldn't take offence; I supposed we were partners here - the way this had gone didn't seem premeditated. I could feel myself smiling. The words came out in a lazy slur, the things Marita was doing to me were so far beyond X-rated that I felt invincible, that whatever I said would get me exactly what I wanted.

That made him look at me - a brief frown and he was smiling again. "No more often than you fuck your informants probably, Mulder." He shifted, put one hand in his pocket and let the gun dangle at his side and said, "It wasn't my idea anyhow. Tell me where I asked Marita to do this? Hey babe... Agent Mulder is insulting us. Bite him!"

She slipped her mouth off me, looked over at him. "Both of you, shut up... I'm not planning to be here all day while you two exchange insults." Then she was touching me again, heat and sweet caresses; there was Alex, standing so close I could hear him draw breath; now my mind was cast adrift on a wave of bliss.

Perhaps he wondered why I watched him as I stroked Marita's fine hair, why I didn't glance at her or attempt to speak again. Perhaps the way I looked at him told him clearly who was in my thoughts for his eyes locked with mine, serious at last, intent, as if this were some dangerous enterprise we shared, as if one slip would spell our doom.

She worked her magic on me - my body resonated eagerly and as the fever mounted, under my breath I whispered his name, Alex, Alex, as if she and I were weaving a spell, a gyre to draw him to me, make him mine at last. I was the sacrifice, she cast the incantation and set the flame, which burned in me, fanned it higher and higher until I was immolated...

Consumed...

Alex - Alex - his face filled my vision through crimson flames as the climax burst from me. Let it be so, let his soul be melded with mine, let him love me...

I teetered, half stumbled. Marita released me, but I was stunned, I just wavered, tried to stay standing, I was gasping, shivering.

Krycek looked shocked as well. He was silent, seemed to jump when Marita got to her feet and touched his shoulder. "Give Mulder the package, Alex, and let's go," she said softly. "You've had your fun." She glanced back at me. "And so have I."

He shook himself. His smirk looked forced as he replied, "Yeah, babe. He looks bombed. Guess he's not used to a woman like you. I'm feeling a little... overcome... myself." He pulled her to him, kissed her lingeringly. His eyes were on me, telling me he could taste me, taunting me that my spunk had touched his lips.

He knew. He'd known before, I was sure.

"Kiss Agent Mulder goodbye, sweetness." He pulled a bulky envelope from his pocket and threw it on the chair, put his gun away. "You're right. We should get going."

He turned to the door as she came back and circled me with her arms, kissed me tenderly. Her lips had just touched his, and now they touched mine - that was the only thing I could think, all that mattered.

"Start regretting, Mulder," she whispered. "We're all fools."

End

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