From: "bizzzichick" <bizzzichick@yahoo.com>
To: "Whispers" <XFilesNC17ff@yahoogroups.com>
Subject: [XFNC17ff] NEW FIC:  A Rose by Any Other Name, Chapter One, R, M/K, 
M/O, 1/2
Date: Monday, February 04, 2002 1:26 PM

Title:  A Rose by Any Other Name, Chapter 1

Author:  bizzzichick@yahoo.com  (Satina)

Website:  http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/xtasy

Rating:  R for sexual situations

Keywords:  Crossover, Mulder/Matthew, M/K

Disclaimer:  Mulder and Krycek are mine.  All mine.
Matthew's staying over just for the night.  I'll have him back
before curfew.

Notes:  Even though this includes a character from
one of Nick Lea's other movies, I think you can enjoy it fine
without ever having seen it.  Let me know if I'm wrong about
that.

Dedication:  This one is for Rachel, who gave me a tape of
Lunch With Charles (and a ton of others!) and broadened my
mind with beautiful, soft, lovely Nick images.  I would never
have known Matthew without you, luv.  Thanks.  :-)

Spoilers:  X- files up to One Son, and Lunch With Charles.

Betas:  Ursula and Rachel.  Fantastic jobs, too, ladies, I must
say.

Summary:  Mulder meets a very interesting individual and
comes to a startling realization.

Feedback:  Am I totally off my tilt, here, or does this work for
you?  bizzzichick@yahoo.com

Archive:  I don't give it away quite as freely as I used to, but
chances are, if you ask, it's yours.  Any list it's posted to is, of
course, pre-approved.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mulder frowned at the strange little souvenir, turning it over
and over in his hands but not really seeing it.  He sighed. The
yeti sighting in Saskatchewan had been a bust, and now he
owed Scully a five-course dinner when he got back to D.C.
Scully had taken off yesterday, before the final damning
photos even got back, so Mulder was alone.

After getting the pictures back, he'd decided to head over to
Banff on the suggestion of some locals.  They said the
scenery would take the frown off his face.  Not unless it
included an abominable snow creature, he thought to himself,
deciding to keep that reply private.  But upon seeing some
postcards, he'd conceded that the place looked
surrealistically beautiful, and so he'd hopped a chartered
flight on the government's tab and gone.

And now he was here, surrounded by trees so green they
made his teeth hurt and mountains so misty as to be painted
with an airbrush, halfheartedly examining a thunder-egg
inscribed with 'Viva La Canada!' across the base.  He looked
up as the small bell over the door tinkled and nearly dropped
it.

He set it down quickly and moved around behind a large
magazine display, watching with wide eyes as a man came
in and grabbed a newspaper, chatting up the storekeeper
while he paid for it, then stepped back out onto the street with
a spring in his step.

Mulder didn't even look at the cashier as he strode
purposefully across the store and stepped out the door,
reaching under his coat to unsnap the strap on his hip-
holster.  He watched the man walk up to a small coffee shop
and come back out with a large, foamy something, and he fell
in behind him, using the few other pedestrians on the
sidewalk to obscure his presence.  He couldn't believe how
lucky he was when his quarry walked casually over to a small
park and took a seat on a bench, laying his paper to the side
and blowing on his foamy hot drink, then taking a tentative
sip, getting a tiny foam mustache that made Mulder's eyes go
wider.

Shaking his head, Mulder crept up behind the bench, and
when the man had set down the cup and picked up the
paper, Mulder lunged forward, grabbing the man in a choke
hold with his left arm, putting his gun against his neck with the
right.

"Hey Krycek.  Taking some time off after the big barbecue?"
he snarled in his ear.

The man in question made a surprised squawking sound and
kicked his legs awkwardly, pulling at the arm around his
throat with both hands, spilling his drink at his feet.

"What...what do you want?" he rasped, his throat constricted.
"I don't have any money!  Here!"  He reached into his pocket
with his left hand and raised a big bunch of keys in the air.
"Take 'em!  My car's at the 'Stop 'n Sip!"

Mulder blinked, mouth open, as the man flailed ineffectually
in his grasp.  Something was so not right here.  He kept his
grip firm around the man's neck and carefully slipped his gun
back into its holster, then reached over and plucked the
large, jangly bunch of keys out of a badly trembling hand.

Hand...hand...what...?  He released the man's throat and the
man drew long, choking breaths as Mulder grabbed his left
wrist in a firm vicelike grip, wrenching forth a hissing "Ouch!"
from its owner.

"You've got two arms, you son of a bitch!"

"I...I'm sorry...?" rasped the man in utter confusion, trying to
lean away from the total lunatic now squeezing his wrist
painfully.

Mulder ignored him, switching his grip from his left to his right
hand and coming around in front of the bench, his own
confusion warring with the anger on his face.  The man on
the bench looked up at him, terrified, as Mulder shook his left
wrist roughly.

"What the hell's with this, Krycek?" Mulder spat, leaning
down into the man's face menacingly.

"I...I...I'm not..." the man struggled to speak, his face white,
his breath still coming in hard, shallow pants.  "M...my
name's...Matthew..." he finished softly, grimacing at the pain
this stranger was inflicting.  Mulder saw tears of pain
sparkling in the deep green eyes in front of his, and his brow
furrowed in confusion but he didn't release the man's wrist.

"That's the name you're working under now?" Mulder said,
his voice losing its violent edge, now sounding more curious
and a bit wary.

"I...you mean my pen name?" said the man, raising his
eyebrows imploringly.  "I just use my real name, mister," he
said softly, shaking his head slightly.  "I never wrote anything
under the name...Crycheck?"

"Wrote...?" said Mulder, shaking his head.

The man on the bench nodded furiously, head bobbing like a
dashboard Chihuahua.  "Yeah, wrote...like songs, ads,
greeting cards?"  he said cautiously, looking up at the freaked
out guy from under dark lashes spiked with his tears.  He
swallowed painfully, his right hand scrabbling at the wood of
the bench at his side, his left still throbbing in Mulder's grip.

"You...you're..." Mulder trailed off, scrutinizing the man
before him with laser intensity.  This man was obviously
scared out of his mind, a state in which Mulder had never
seen Krycek.  The features were the same,
there was no doubt about that, but the face wasn't as
timeworn, the lines not as pronounced by the eyes, and the
ones that were there were laugh lines, not hard worn lines of
old pain.  The hair was longer, but Mulder had seen it all
different lengths, so that didn't matter, but what really threw
him, besides the arm of course, was the man's apparel.
Beige corduroys and a light blue sweater?

Mulder glanced at the wrist held in his grip and quickly let go,
stepping back in shock.  The man immediately cradled it in
his lap, leaning over slightly in a protective gesture, still
looking up at Mulder from under his lashes furtively, looking
like a cornered puppy.

"I...you're...um...I thought you were somebody else," Mulder
finished lamely, his voice low and quiet, eyes still slightly
narrowed in confusion.  He stood a few feet in front of the
man on the bench, hands in fists at his sides, staring at him.

"Yeah, I gathered," said Matthew softly, rubbing at his
injured wrist, eyebrows arching as he blinked, trying to
assimilate what just happened.  He didn't meet Mulder's
intense gaze, staring at his maligned wrist as he soothed it.

Mulder just stood there, studying him like a bug under a
scope, then he spoke again.

"Um...sorry..."

"'Sokay," answered Matthew, still not looking up, holding his
wrist close to his body.  Mulder saw that he was still trembling
slightly, obviously scared to death.  Mulder sighed, stepping
forward slightly, and Matthew jerked back, pressing against
the back of the bench, not daring to make eye contact.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you.  Listen, I'm really sorry,"
Mulder began again, reaching into his pocket.  He withdrew
his wallet and flipped it open, holding it out in front of Matthew
carefully, being as nonthreatening as he knew how to be,
extending Matthew's keys to him with the other hand.

Matthew peered up through the dense curtain of lashes, then
finally looked back up at Mulder, taking his keys from
Mulder's hand slowly.

"You're in the FBI?"

"Yeah," said Mulder, putting away the badge.

"I...I guess I look like a bad guy, huh?" said Matthew, trying
to sound light and failing miserably due to the tremor still
present in his voice.

Mulder sighed, feeling like a complete ass.  "Yeah, you could
say that.  Look, Matthew?  I'm really sorry about all this.
Jesus, I hope I didn't hurt you."  He reached out toward
Matthew's arm cautiously, and Matthew jerked back a bit
once again, but lifted the arm toward him submissively, still
trembling slightly.

Mulder took it very gently in his hands, grimacing at the ugly
bruising and friction burns.  "Do you...did I sprain it?" he
asked quietly.

Matthew worked his hand around a little.  "No, I don't think
so," he said just as quietly.  Mulder nodded, stroking over the
marks softly with his thumbs.  He looked down at the ground
and the tall paper cup of spilled foamy chocolate drink and
gave Matthew an apologetic smile.

"Why don't you let me buy you another drink," he said,
indicating the mess on the ground.  Matthew's brows arched
and his eyes blinked rapidly, then he took a deep breath and
nodded.

"Yeah, okay, I guess."

Mulder stepped back, letting go of Matthew's wrist, and
Matthew gathered up his paper and stood, still looking a little
shaky. Mulder reached out to steady him with a hand on the
shoulder and Matthew grinned sheepishly.

"Guess I'm not used to being one of America's Most
Wanted," he said, ducking his head shyly.

Mulder smiled.  "No, it doesn't exactly appear that you are,"
he said, falling in beside Matthew and casually leading him
back toward the small coffee shop, hand still resting gently on
his shoulder.  As they got to the shop, Mulder reached
forward and opened the door, feeling a surprising
protectiveness toward this Doppelganger of his mortal
enemy. Matthew gave him another shy smile and stepped
through. Mulder stepped in behind him and placed a hand
lightly on his back, guiding him to the counter.

"Matthew!  Hey!  Finish that double whipped cream Borgia
already?"  The girl behind the counter gave him a truly
dazzling smile.

He grinned back.  "You know me, Stacy.  Can't get enough
caffeine or chocolate."

"You wicked, wicked boy," she chided.  "So, another one
then?"

Mulder stepped forward.  "Yeah, put it on my tab," he said.
"And add one for me, without the cream."

"You like chocolate?" asked Matthew, smiling.

"Hey, who doesn't?" asked Mulder, smiling back.  "But I
don't need a cute little foam mustache like the one you had
before I...well, before."

Matthew licked and sucked at his top lip as if to clean away
the cream that was no longer there.  "I hate that," he said
good-naturedly.  "Hazards of the addiction, I guess, though."

"Heh, yeah," said Mulder, nodding, watching Matthew's lips
work against each other.  Stacy handed each man a tall,
steaming cup of coffee, Matthew's nearly dripping with
cream.

"Six bucks even," she said, holding out her hand.  Mulder
dug his hand into his coat and pocket and pulled out a ten,
pressing it into her hand.

"Keep the change," he said, giving her a grin.

"Thanks!" she said brightly, putting the ten in the register and
pocketing her tip.  "You boys let me know if there's anything
else I can help ya with!"

"Thanks, Stacy," said Matthew with a brilliant, tooth-baring
smile that made Mulder's breath catch in his throat.

"Uh yeah, thanks," he added, giving Stacy a smile of his own
and then turning to lead Matthew to a corner table.  They sat
down across from one another and Matthew attempted
unsuccessfully to stir all the cream on the top of his coffee
into the liquid, finally giving up and taking a careful sip.  He
drew his mouth away from the edge of the cup with another
foam mustache, and used his bottom lip to clean away most
of it.

But not all of it, to Mulder's amusement.  He smiled at
Matthew a minute, waiting for him to notice, and Matthew
looked across the table at him, brows raised.

"What?"

Mulder leaned forward and brushed away the bit of foam with
his thumb and Matthew started back from his hand for a
minute then let him stroke away the cream, breathing
shallowly against his fingers.  Mulder blinked, sitting back into
his seat.

"I'm...sorry, I guess...I mean I probably shouldn't have..."

Matthew grinned at him, looking up through those killer
lashes again shyly.  "You've got more than just a good
guy/bad guy thing going on with this Crycheck, don't you?"

Mulder blinked, mouth dropping open slightly.  "Uh...well..."

"Hey, it's okay," said Matthew, reaching across the table to
put his hand over Mulder's.  "I'm cool with it.  You're not
freaking me out."

Mulder stared at the soft hand placed over his, eyes roving
over the bruising there.  The bruising he'd put there.  "I'm
freaking *me* out," he muttered under his breath.

Matthew laughed, and Mulder looked up, surprised he'd
heard the quiet admission.  "So, what'd he do to you to piss
you off so bad?  Oh hey, um, I didn't catch your name."

"Mulder," Mulder answered in a rasp, still looking at the
bruised hand resting on top of his, his thumb still slightly
sticky with the remains of the foam from Matthew's lip.

"Mulder?  Um, that's a unique first name," said Matthew.

"Last name," murmured Mulder.

"Oh," said Matthew, slightly uncomfortable, eyebrows raised.
"Um, so you want me to use your last name, then?"

Mulder didn't say anything, frowning, still staring at their
hands on the table.

"Do you have one of those names you could just kill your
parents for, like Eugene or something?"  Matthew leaned in,
trying to catch Mulder's eye and get him to look up at him.

Mulder looked him right in the eye, all seriousness.  "Fox."

Matthew's green eyes went wide, lashes fluttering.  "You're
kidding!"  Mulder just shook his head, still unsmiling.

Matthew's eyes gleamed, his smile breathtaking.  He reached
across the table with his right hand, brushing a small lock of
hair off Mulder's forehead.  "Fits ya."

Mulder's breathing quickened, his hand clenching where it
was pinned beneath the warmth of Matthew's on the table.
"Listen, I..."

"Don't sweat it," said Matthew, smiling again and squeezing
Mulder's hand gently.  "I think you're cute."

"You're....?"

"Gay?" asked Matthew with raised brows.  "No, not exactly.  I
mostly see women.  But I'm not about gender, you know?  I
mean, what does it really matter, in the end?"

Mulder's brows arched, his mouth parting slightly in surprise
at how comfortable this man seemed to be with bisexuality.
Mulder had never been that comfortable with his sexuality,
even when he'd considered himself purely heterosexual.

Matthew's grin turned into a full smile, teeth and all, and
Mulder's breath left his chest in a gasp at its pure beauty and
openness.  Matthew heard and his eyes darkened, widening
slightly.  "Say, I live about twenty miles out of town.  You
wanna come to my place?"

Mulder blinked, falling into that dark, sparkling gaze.  It took
him a moment to speak.

"You...live alone out there?"

Matthew nodded, still smiling, leaning in.  "Yeah, girlfriend left
me for a songwriter, believe it or not, then I hooked up with
this yuppy chick but that *so* didn't work out.  So now it's
just me and the chickens."

"Chickens?"

"Yeah, chickens.  Hey, you got a place to stay, Fox?  I run a
bed and breakfast.  Well, one bed anyway.  And there's
nobody in it right now."

Mulder blinked again, studying Matthew's eyes for double
meaning but finding none.  His offer seemed infinitely better
than the scroungey little motel he'd found, and he nodded
absently, still staring into Matthew's magnetic depths.

"Good," said Matthew, giving Mulder's hand another
squeeze, then letting it go and curling it around his cup.  He
took a long drink of the now-cooled liquid, giving himself
another foam mustache.  He licked at it halfheartedly with the
tip of his tongue, his eyes on Mulder.  Mulder slowly reached
across the table with his still slightly-sticky thumb and brushed
away the thick cream, then brought his thumb to his mouth
and sucked it off.  Matthew's mouth opened on a soft gasp.

"I'm ready when you are," he said in a voice that sounded
less Matthew and more Krycek than Mulder had heard him
sound so far.  Mulder realized he was painfully erect.

"Let's go," he breathed.  He was grateful he was wearing a
long coat as he stood up, the cooling coffee in his hand still
untouched.

"'Kay," replied Matthew, taking another slurp and licking all
the foam away himself with a grin at Mulder.  "Where's your
stuff?  We can pick it up on the way."

"I think it's called The Gathering Place," said Mulder,
smirking.

"Yeah, I know it," said Matthew, grabbing Mulder's arm
gently.  "My car's this way."  He reached into his coat pocket
and pulled out the big, jangly ring full of keys, and Mulder
frowned, remember the way they first made one another's
acquaintance.  He reached out and took Matthew's wrist
lightly in both hands, stroking very softly over the marked
flesh.

"I'm sorry," he said in a half-whisper, looking directly in
Matthew's eyes.

Matthew swallowed and smiled.  "It's okay," he said, glancing
down at Mulder's thumbs still rubbing his skin gently.  "It was
worth it."

Mulder smiled and let his wrist go, and they walked out to
their cars.
.................................


Matthew followed Mulder to the little motel and waited while
Mulder went in and retrieved his bag, then Mulder followed
Matthew through some of the most beautiful country he'd
ever seen, finally pulling up in front of an older, charming,
rustic home in the mountains.

Matthew got out of his car and walked over as Mulder
stepped out of his rental car, reaching in past him to grab his
bag.  Ignoring Mulder's protests and attempts to grab it back,
he carried it up onto the big wooden porch, and Mulder
looked around in wonder at the breathtaking view, already
imagining what it might be like to sit on one of the willow-
bough rockers, watching the stars at night.  He sighed.

Matthew smiled back at him and opened the door, and
Mulder's brows raised at the lack of a lock being used.  But
then, Matthew probably had more to fear from
wild animals than burglars, this far up in the trees.  He
stepped in behind Matthew and followed him as he made his
way up the stairs to a small room with a single bed
under a low-ceilinged eave.  Matthew tossed the bag on the
bed, throwing open the curtain on the tiny window.

"Don't bump your head," said Matthew, coming back to
where Mulder still stood in the doorway.  "Sorry the bed's so
small," he apologized.  "You're a pretty tall guy, like me.  I
hope it's big enough for you."

Mulder just nodded, wondering how far his feet were going to
dangle over the end.

"I won't charge you anything, of course," said Matthew with a
shy grin.  "And there's a couch downstairs, if you think you'd
fit better there."

"I might have to take a look at that," said Mulder with a smirk.
"Beds aren't really my thing anyway."

"Oh?"  Matthew raised his eyebrows.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to relax in bed," said Mulder,
blushing as he realized how that sounded.

Matthew tilted his head and grinned, obviously noticing
Mulder's discomfort.  "We'll have to see what we can do
about that," he said gently, brushing his hand down Mulder's
arm before starting back down the stairs.

Mulder breathed deeply, then after a few calming moments,
went downstairs to join him.

Matthew was rattling pans in the small kitchen, and Mulder
stopped in the doorway, not knowing exactly what to do.

"Sit down," said Matthew, pulling things out of the
cupboards.  "I'll make us some supper."

Mulder made his way past Matthew and seated himself at the
small table, watching his host move around the homey little
kitchen.  He smiled as Matthew put an apron over his head
and bent over, taking an armload of veggies out of the fridge.
Mulder almost didn't control the giggle that wanted to burst
free from his throat, putting Krycek in the place of this
bustling homebody and picturing the serious damage he
figured Krycek would do to anyone who put such a feminine
garment on him.  He almost wanted to try it just to see the
sparks.

Matthew spread the food out on the counter and started
chopping vegetables, water boiling on the small stove.

"So, Fox," he said, completely ignoring Mulder's original wish
to have him use his last name, "What are you doing up here,
anyway?  Don't the feds usually stick to the states pretty
much?"

Mulder cleared his throat, wondering how much he really
wanted to share with this perky, pretty bed and breakfast
owner.  He decided he had nothing to lose.  "I was
uh...looking for the yeti."

Matthew turned on him, eyelashes fluttering in surprise.
"You're kidding, right?  The abominable snowman?"

"Yeah, the abominable snowman," answered Mulder,
nodding.  "You know anything about it?"  His voice rose a
little, somewhat hopeful.

"Um, no not really, not anything I didn't learn off Christmas
shows and stuff," he said, giving Mulder a blinding grin that
took away the sting of his words.

Mulder couldn't help but chuckle.  "Well, I got some reports
that people mighta seen one up in Saskatchewan, so I was
up there checking it out."

Matthew nodded.  "Cool!  So you look into the weird stuff,
then?  That must be really interesting!"  He turned back to his
vegetables and began dropping handfuls into the boiling
water, hissing as some of it splashed up on his hands.

"Ah shit!" he said, flipping the tap on quickly and immersing
his hands in cold, running water.  Mulder jumped up and
hurried over to him, coming around behind.

"Jesus, you okay?" Mulder asked, leaning in to see his hands
better.

"Yeah, yeah," said Matthew, annoyed.  "I do it all the time.  I
can't make a meal without burning myself.  It's a universal
invariant."

Mulder laughed, delighted to hear Matthew use a familiar
phrase. "Here, let me see," he said, reaching for Matthew's
burnt fingers.  Matthew withdrew them from the water and
extended them toward Mulder, looking at him, face lowered.
Mulder took them gently, turning them this way and that.
There were faint red patches but no blistering.  "Looks pretty
good," he said, absently stroking away some of the water
with his thumbs.

Matthew said nothing, swallowing hard, both of his hands still
held loosely in Mulder's.  Mulder looked into Matthew's eyes,
his own narrowing slightly, then leaned in and, without
thinking about it, pressed his lips to the soft, pink, slightly
parted ones in front of him with a deep sigh.

"Mmmm..." Matthew hummed, his hands still held between
the two men's bodies.  Mulder's body leaned in against him,
pressing him back against the counter.

Matthew tasted clean and sweet, and his kiss was soft and
gentle, and Mulder relaxed into it, tilting his head slightly to
get a better fit.

He stepped in closer, letting go of Matthew's hands and
sliding his arms around Matthew's upper body, pressing him
in more tightly with his hands splayed against Matthew's
back.  Matthew's
hands, being squeezed between his and Mulder's body,
twisted and slid downward, sliding low around Mulder's waist
and resting there, thumbs softly stroking.  Mulder grunted
and moved his hips in closer, bumping his very hard cock
against Matthew's groin with a gasp, very pleased to find an
answering
firmness there.  Mulder slid his hands up into Matthew's hair,
still hungrily stroking his tongue through Matthew's soft,
sweet mouth, and Matthew melted back against the counter,
sighing into the kiss, giving himself completely over to Mulder.

They both heard a bubbling hiss as the soup on the stove
boiled over, and Matthew pulled away quickly, grabbing up a
towel and using it as a makeshift potholder, trying to take the
overflowing pot off the burner.

"Wait!  Look out!" said Mulder, grabbing him before he could
take hold of the scalding pot with his sparsely protected,
already twice-injured hands.  He moved Matthew to the side
and
picked up two actual potholders, then carefully but quickly
grabbed up the pot and moved it onto the back burner.  "No
wonder you're always getting burned," he said, dropping the
potholders.  "You need to be more careful!  Take better care
of yourself!"

Matthew smirked, obviously tickled to be taken care of this
way.  "Sorry, Fox," he said with mock-contrition.  "I'll do
better next time."

Mulder narrowed his eyes playfully and advanced on
Matthew quickly, pushing him up against the wall beside the
cheery yellow phone, grabbing his hands and holding them
gently to the sides of his body.  "You'd better," he said,
brushing his body just barely against Matthew's.  "You might
need those hands."

Matthew stared into those dark, changeable eyes, hardly
daring to breathe.  Mulder stared back, trying to decide if he
wanted to eat or do something else.  Their bodies moved
against one another as they both breathed deeply, then
finally Mulder stepped back, releasing Matthew's hands.

"Let's eat that soup you just about killed yourself making," he
said with a smirk.

Matthew sighed, pushing off the wall.  "I did not almost kill
myself," he said, smiling and taking two bowls from the
drainer by the sink.  "What do you think I do when you're not
here, anyway?"

"Burn yourself, if earlier accounts are to be believed,"
answered Mulder, taking the bowls and carrying them to the
table.  He sat down, watching as Matthew picked up the
potholders with a glance in his direction, then carried the
soup over
to the table. He dished up two hearty portions and
sliced a couple of pieces of what looked to be homemade
bread, slathering them with butter and dropping one on a
plate in front of Mulder.  "Thanks," said Mulder, picking up
his spoon.  "I haven't had anyone cook for me in a long
time."

Matthew shrugged and smiled.  "Sure.  It's all part of the
package," he said, eyes twinkling.

"Nice package," returned Mulder with a similarly mischievous
gleam in his eye, and Matthew grinned and looked down at
his soup, blushing.

Mulder picked up his spoon and scooped up a big bite of
soup, still smiling.  He put it in his mouth and stopped, then
chewed it very, very slowly and swallowed hard, biting off a
huge peice of bread and taking
a long drink of milk, nearly gagging when he found it was
whole.

"What?" said Matthew, looking up from his own bite.  "You
don't like it?"

Mulder licked his lips, considering his words carefully.
"Matthew, let's just say that if you get repeat business up
here, they're not coming back for the food."  He gave
Matthew his warmest smile, hoping to take some of the barb
out of his statement.

Matthew pouted, and Mulder stared at that protruding lower
lip, wishing he could nibble on that instead of the
undercooked, undersalted soup.  Mulder reached across the
table, brushing a finger down the side of Matthew's face.

"It's okay," he said softly.  "I'd come back for more."

Matthew smiled at that, putting his hand over Mulder's on his
cheek, then turning to press his lips to Mulder's palm.  Mulder
inhaled sharply and Matthew smiled and let go of his hand.
"The bread's good though, isn't it?" Matthew asked,
sounding like he truly cared what Mulder thought.

"Yes," answered Mulder truthfully.  "The bread is delicious."
To prove it, he took another big bite, licking the butter from
the corners of his lips as he chewed.  "Mmmmmmm."

Matthew chuckled.  "It's homemade, too, you know," he said,
pushing his own soup away and concentrating on the bread
along with Mulder.  "It seems to be the one thing I have a
talent for."

"The only one?" asked Mulder with an arch of his brows.

Matthew narrowed his eyes, smirking.  "Wouldn't you like to
know."  He cut them each more bread, slathering it with more
real butter, and they munched on raw carrots and celery and
ate their bread, drinking whole milk and wiping away each
other's white mustaches from time to time, laughing.

Matthew stood up and began cleaning up the mess, dumping
the soup into a large compost bin out the back door.  Mulder
watched him, wondering when he was going to remember to
take off the ruffled apron, thoroughly enjoying the almost-
giggle he could feel in the back of his throat every time he
looked at it.  Finally, Matthew finished wiping the counter and
table and reached behind his neck, lifting off the apron.

Mulder pouted, and Matthew caught him at it.  "Like this look,
do you, Fox?" he asked, fluttering his lashes on purpose.
Even though the action was totally contrived, those long, dark
lashes being used on him like that was enough to make
Mulder's breath catch in his throat.  He just stared at
Matthew, forgetting what he had asked him.  "Fox?" Matthew
asked, walking over to him.

"Huh?" said Mulder stupidly, looking up as Matthew came to
stand next to him.

Matthew smiled down at him, looking quite happy with his
ability to make this G-man speechless.  "You know," he said,
his voice a low rumble.  "You don't have to sleep on the
couch *or* that little bed upstairs...if you don't want to."

Mulder licked his lips.

"Do you?"

"What?" Mulder asked, unsure.

"Want to sleep on the couch or in your room?" answered
Matthew softly.

Mulder shook his head slowly.  "No."

"Come on then," said Matthew, reaching for Mulder's hand,
and Mulder gave it to him, standing as Matthew turned and
pulled on him, leading him back into the master bedroom.  He
turned around once they were in the room, and Mulder
stared at him in the low light, eyes dark.

"This is where I sleep," said Matthew quietly.  The two men
stared at each other, their breathing loud in the silent room.
"Why don't we just get undressed and lie down, and see
what happens," said Matthew with a gentle smile, beginning
to pull his sweater off over his head.

Mulder nodded, watching him, not moving from his spot just
inside the door.  Matthew took off his sweater, then his T-
shirt, and his skin was pale and unmarked, with a thin
spattering of dark hair across the chest.  Mulder wondered if
Krycek's chest would have more hair or less, and knew that it
would be fuller and covered with scars like his own was.  He
let his gaze travel slowly over the slender shoulders and
lightly muscled arms, thinking again that Krycek's one arm
would be more muscular and of course his other was gone,
now replaced by a cold, hard surrogate.

Matthew said nothing, letting Mulder watch him as he took his
clothes off, appearing very comfortable with his body.  He
unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then pushed them down
his hips, stepping out of them and quickly stripping off shoes
and socks.  He stood before Mulder in nothing but a pair of
stark white briefs, and Mulder could see the bulge of his
erection pushing out against the soft cotton.

"Want some help?" said Matthew softly, stepping over to
Mulder.  Mulder found himself unable to reply, or even raise
his hands as Matthew began pushing his suit jacket off his
shoulders, pulling it down his arms and laying it on the
dresser to his side.

Mulder breathed deeply, and the unfamiliar smell was
pleasant, but somehow not exactly what he wanted.  He tried
not to think too much about that as Matthew stepped in closer
and began unbuttoning his shirt, not seductively, just slowly
and casually.  He let Matthew pull the shirt out of his trousers
and slide it down his arms, and then Matthew reached for the
belt on his pants.

"Don't," said Mulder, taking hold of the hands at his waist.

"I'm sorry," said Matthew, pulling his hands away.

"No, it's not that," said Mulder.  "It's not that at all."

"What...?" asked Matthew, his stunning eyes glowing as they
gazed into Mulder's.  Mulder sighed, his breath once again
stolen by Matthew's aching beauty.  He held Matthew's
hands in his own, their bodies inches apart.

"I do want you," Mulder said quietly.  "But I'm not sure if it's
only you that I want."

Matthew's gaze dropped to Mulder's chest.  "The other guy.
What's his name...Crycheck."

Mulder closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  "Alex
Krycek," he said without opening them.

"He was your lover?" asked Matthew without looking up.

"No, he never was," said Mulder with an old pain cracking his
voice.  "But somehow, I feel like I'm cheating on him with
you, and I feel like I'm cheating on you by thinking of him."
He opened his eyes and Matthew looked into them, blinking
at the intense pain he saw there.

"Oh Fox," he said, pulling a hand out of Mulder's grasp and
placing it on the side of Mulder's face.  He stroked it tenderly,
his eyes filling with the tears he knew this man couldn't shed.
"Why weren't you ever lovers if you feel this way about him?
Is he straight?"

Mulder sighed deeply, his eyes closing again, and Matthew
stroked his cheeks, persuading them to open again.  They
did, and Mulder's voice was a choked rasp.  "I honestly don't
know.  But that's not the point.  He betrayed me.  He lied to
me.  He violated everything precious to me, and every time I
see him, it's all I can do not to kill him."

Matthew's eyes narrowed, then he nodded, remembering
their encounter in the park.  "Yeah, I guess so," he said,
dropping his hand to Mulder's shoulder.  "You didn't exactly
greet me with open arms."

Mulder sighed yet again.  "No."

"Well, Fox, why haven't you gotten over him yet?  I mean, if
he's as bad as you say he is, why can't you just let him go
and try to live your life?"

Mulder pursed his lips, looking past Matthew, deep in
thought.  "I guess," he started, licking his lips and swallowing,
"it's because deep down, I don't think he *is* all bad, really. I
mean, yeah, he's done some awful things, but he's part of
something much bigger than any of us, and I know he did
them because he felt he had to."  He blinked rapidly, willing
the burn behind his eyes to fade.  "I don't think he enjoys
hurting me.  I don't think he wants to."

Matthew wrapped his arms around Mulder and pulled him
into a warm embrace, and Mulder shuddered, as
close to crying as he had ever been when thinking about Alex
Krycek.  Held in Matthew's gentle, unmarred arms, Mulder
felt the difference finally and completely, and knew that this
was not the body he wanted pressed close to his, offering
him comfort.

"Jesus, Fox, you're in love with this guy.  You know that,
right?" said Matthew in his ear softly, stroking his hands up
and down Mulder's back soothingly, all seduction gone.
Mulder said nothing, breathing back his threatening sobs with
deep shudders.  "Do you think...I mean...what would happen
if you just told him?"

Mulder let his breath out in a long, shuddering sigh.  "I don't
know.  Everything's changed now.  I don't even know for sure
where he is or what he's doing."

"Fox," said Matthew, pulling away and taking Mulder's face
in his hands.  "You have to find out.  You're killing yourself.
You're never going to be happy until you resolve this, one
way or the other.  Am I right?"

Mulder's eyes shone brightly as he stared into eyes that
seemed to tug at his soul, pulling it from him painfully.  "I
think so," he choked out, and Matthew smiled, proud of him.
Mulder gave him a tremulous smile in return.  Matthew
leaned in and pressed his lips against Mulder's in a soft,
chaste kiss, and stepped back, bending to retrieve his T-shirt
where he'd dropped it on the floor.

"If you're okay with it, Fox, you're still welcome to sleep in
here with me," he said quietly, with a gentle smile that said
nothing sexual was going to happen here tonight.

"I think I'd like that," said Mulder softly.  "I'm...I'm tired of
sleeping alone."

Matthew gave him a sad smile.  "Maybe soon you won't have
to," he said, and turned to go into the bathroom, leaving
Mulder in the now-dark bedroom.  Mulder stared into the
darkness, feeling the world shift around him, but feeling
something new in his heart as well.  Something that felt a lot
like hope.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mulder looked up from the sizzling frying pan as a tousled Matthew walked
into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.  "Hey, Mary Sunshine."

"Haarrr...." Matthew yawned, scrubbing his hand through the spiky mess on
his head.  Mulder grinned and gestured to the table with the spatula.

"This time I cook, you sit."

Matthew walked over to the coffeemaker and poured a cup of the fresh brew,
dumping in copious amounts of sugar and adding a splash of whole milk.  He
slid into a chair at the table, still blinking the sleep-fog from his brain.
"Thanks, Fox," he said, sipping his coffee.  "Smells good."

"Hey, I figure it's the least I could do, what with you providing therapy
sessions and all," said Mulder, bringing the pan to the table and dumping a
small mountain of eggs on Matthew's plate and then his.  He set the pan on
the back of the stove and bent to retrieve toast from the oven, then sat
down with his own cup of coffee.

The two men ate quietly, both looking a lot more alert once their coffee
cups and plates were empty.  Mulder started to clean up the mess and Matthew
grabbed his arm.  "Leave it. Let's talk."

Mulder frowned but set the plate back down as Matthew grabbed his coat,
refilled both coffee cups, and wordlessly walked out the front door.  Mulder
followed, shrugging into the other heavy coat hanging there.  The wooden
screen door banged as he walked out onto the porch, and he gasped at the
clean, sparkling morning and the heady, oxygen-rich air.

"Jesus."

"Yeah."  Matthew settled into one of the willow rockers and set Mulder's
coffee on the small table between it and the other one.  Mulder sank down
into it slowly, eyes still wide at the stunning beauty surrounding him.

"I find this puts the day in perspective," said Matthew, taking a sip of his
coffee, staring out at the dewy trees, watching the birds bring back
breakfast for their babies. Mulder nodded slowly, watching the world wake
up.

"So," said Matthew, turning to Mulder after a few moments of quiet
contemplation.  "What are you gonna do?"

Mulder swallowed, not looking at the man beside him for a minute, then
sighed.  He shook his head.  He didn't know how to answer.

"You're going to go find him, right?" asked Matthew, leaning in slightly,
trying to get Mulder to look at him.

Mulder glanced up sideways, then back out at the mist burning off the
horizon.  "I don't know if he wants to be found," he said finally in a voice
so quiet it barely registered over the cacophony of birdsong.

Matthew's brows arched, then he looked out at the trees, too. "I guess I
didn't ask you if he felt the same way," he said, taking a sip of his
coffee.  "I'm sorry."

Mulder was quiet, bringing his fingers together and tenting them in front of
his lips, tapping in a soft rhythm.  "He made me think so, once," he said,
his voice even quieter than before.  So quiet that Matthew wasn't sure he'd
heard right.

"Pardon?" Matthew looked over, gently encouraging Mulder to continue.

"We were partners for a very short time," said Mulder, lowering his hands to
his lap, where his fingers played with one another absently.  "I really
liked him.  I got this feeling...I mean, he made me believe that he
really...liked me, too."

Matthew nodded, letting Mulder tell his story at his own pace.

Mulder laughed mirthlessly.  "That sounds like high school infatuation
bullshit," he said.  "God, I sound pathetic.  'I thought he liked me.'
Jesus."

"Hey," said Matthew firmly.  "We all have a need to be liked and...loved.
It's not just for teenagers, Fox."  Mulder looked at him then, and Matthew
gave him a warm smile.  "So," he continued gently.  "What happened?"  Mulder
sighed deeply, a sound so full of resignation and pain it made Matthew
wince.

"Long story short?  Sure you're ready for this?  He helped in the kidnapping
of my partner, he killed my father, he helped kill my partner's sister, and
he left me for dead in a Russian gulag."

"Holy Shit!  Fox!  This guy is nothing but trouble!  He's a murderer!  My
god!  Why can't you just let him go?  I think you really need to reconsider
this!"  Matthew's voice was urgent and very concerned, and he leaned over
and put a hand on Mulder's arm.

Mulder chuckled low in his throat.  "What happened to, 'You're in love with
him, you know that, right?'"

Matthew frowned and breathed deeply, not answering.  Both men looked out on
the vista for several quiet minutes, then Matthew cleared his throat.

"Okay.  Well, there must be more to this story.  I know what I saw, and
you're not crazy, Fox.  You wouldn't feel like that about this guy...Alex?
Unless there was more to the story."

Mulder sighed, then nodded slowly.  "Yeah, there's more."

Matthew gave him the eyebrows again, appearing less and less patient.

"I can't tell you all of it," Mulder began.  "Or I guess I could, but you
probably wouldn't believe me and it's probably not something you really
wanna have to carry around with you."

Matthew's brow furrowed but he said nothing.

"Yes, Krycek killed my dad."

Matthew's eyes tightened.

"But my dad was not a good man," Mulder finished quietly. "He was in with
the same people Krycek...Alex is.  I mean, he was part of something
really..." Mulder sighed deeply. "...terrible.  Anyway, I didn't know any of
this at first, and when I started to find out, Dad told me to come over, and
I think...it sounded like he was going to let me in on it. Everything,
probably.  I dunno."

Matthew sighed, and Mulder could see him trying to figure out how his
relationship with Krycek fit into this picture.

"I don't really remember a lot, because I was sick.  Poisoned. Probably by
Krycek.  Anyway, he went into the bathroom to take some medication, and I
heard a shot.  I found him bleeding to death on the bathroom floor."

"Damn, Fox, I'm so sorry."  Matthew put his hand on Mulder's arm again, and
this time Mulder put his hand on top of it, nodding.  "So..." Matthew said
after a time.  "How did you find out it was him?  Alex?"

Mulder sighed.  "He showed up at my apartment.  Maybe to kill me, I don't
know.  I just...knew, somehow, that it was all connected.  I almost killed
him that night..." Mulder's voice got soft.  "...but Scully stopped me.  She
didn't want me to go to prison."

Matthew stared, eyes narrowed, and Mulder could see the question in them.
Why would forgiving this man even be an option at this point?  He shook his
head at the irony of pleading Alex Krycek's case as he recited his litany of
offenses, and continued.

"Then I ran into him in Hong Kong about a year after the murder of Scully's
sister."

Matthew didn't ask who Scully was, and Mulder didn't feel like getting into
such a huge discussion right now, so he let it slide, too.

"We caught her killer, but he'd implicated Krycek as the one behind it all.
Of course, we had no proof.  We never do. Anyway, I stumbled on him while
tracking down a lead.  He looked like hell.  Thin, dirty, dark circles under
his eyes..." Mulder's voice trailed off.  "I hit him in the face with a pay
phone and shoved my gun in his ribs.  He had the secrets to the whole big
mess, and all I could really think about was how much I wanted them.  He
said he'd give them to me if I'd let him go.  He looked so desperate,
bleeding and trembling, and I was trying so hard not to give a shit."

Matthew grimaced.

"So he comes out, and, well it gets weird here so I'll try to keep it
simple.  Some men stopped us and I ended up in the hospital and Krycek ended
up gone.  With the secrets."

Matthew shook his head and sighed.

"Jesus.  I've never just...laid this all out before.  It's...it's crazy to
think how intertwined our lives really are.  He's like the antithesis of
what I am, I guess.  Spy vs. spy."  Mulder laughed quietly.  "Maybe they
just need to fuck, too."

Matthew's eyes widened.

"I'm kinda surprised at that one, too," Mulder admitted. "But...there it
is."

"So, maybe, it's not love, but just this...need to conquer?" Matthew asked,
brows arched.

Mulder looked over at him for the first time, trying to find his center in
those innocent green eyes.  Eyes that didn't let him lie to them...or to
himself.  He looked away.  "I don't think so," was all he said, staring out
at the trees.  Matthew nodded gently.

"The next time I saw him, he helped me.  He gave me the information I needed
to bring down a ring of terrorists."

Matthew looked hopeful at that.  "Was he coming over to the other side?"

Mulder laughed.  "Not exactly.  I mean, yeah, he really did help us to stop
some seriously messed up shit, but he did it for his own reasons.  I know
that now.  It was all just a scheme."

"For what?"

"To get me to take him to Russia with me.  I still don't know why, though,
really."

"Ahhhh..." said Matthew, trying to put two and two together. "And he left
you there."

"Well, not exactly," replied Mulder, his eyes narrowing.  "We both got
captured and thrown into this...concentration camp. It soon became apparent
that he had friends there, and he walked off with one of them.  Next thing I
knew, I was part of some...experiment...and he was laughing with the man in
charge.  I went after him and stole a truck, throwing him in the back."

"Why didn't you just leave?  Why take him with you?"

Mulder turned and stared at Matthew, as if he'd asked himself that question
over and over already.  He chewed the inside of his lower lip and looked
away slowly.  "I guess I had to know why he did it.  I had to ask him."

"And did you?"

"No.  He jumped the truck just before I wrecked it, and I never saw him
again...well, not until months later, in the 'States."

"How did you get out of there?  How did he?"

"I don't know how he got out of there.  But..."  Mulder swallowed hard, his
eyes squinting.  "...he wasn't unscathed."

Matthew frowned.

"The next time I saw him, he broke into my apartment and put his gun in my
face."

"Angry about Russia," said Matthew knowingly.

Mulder looked at him.  "No, actually.  I mean, I guess he might have
been..." he looked off into the distance.  "...but he was there to give me
information.  Extremely valuable information."

"And he never ever brought up the whole Russia thing?" asked Matthew,
obviously incredulous.

"Well, he did make one reference to what happened to him there."

"What?  What *did* happen?"

"He said something about beating me with one hand.  I made some really
stupid remark back about him beating himself."

Matthew's mouth turned up in a slight smirk at this.

"I didn't really think about it until after he left.  Turns out..." Mulder
took a deep breath, unconsciously rubbing his left arm with his right hand.
"...he got his arm cut off in Russia."

"Oh my god!" Matthew exclaimed.  Then he looked down at the bruises ringing
his wrist, finally understanding.  "That's why...you were so focused on my
hand...he doesn't have one."

Mulder nodded, not looking at him.

"So, why the hell did he show up in your apartment if not to take vengeance
for the arm?" said Matthew, sounding thoroughly confused.

"He kissed me," said Mulder very, very quietly.

"He broke into your apartment to kiss you?"  Matthew screeched.  It broke
Mulder out of his reverie and he looked over, one corner of his mouth
quirking up.

"No.  He was there to give me information.  But then...after he gave it to
me...he handed me his gun, and he...kissed me."

"Damn, Fox, this guy is..."

"...fucked up."  Mulder finished for him.

"Yeah, I guess," said Matthew, blinking, his brain probably on overload from
such a twisted tapestry of events.  "I mean, you could have killed him!  He
just handed you his gun?  It sounds like he *does* have an idea of how you
feel about him to me."

Mulder studied Matthew's face intensely, and Matthew began to squirm under
the scrutiny.  "I guess he knew I wouldn't kill him," said Mulder quietly.
"And I guess I knew he wouldn't kill me, really."

"So...why the information?  And was it legit, like the terrorist thing?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, it was legit.  Really fucking legit."

Matthew treaded carefully.

"So...why do you think...I mean...what happened?"

"I think he gave it to me because he really did see us as working toward the
same thing, in some ways," said Mulder in a faraway voice.

"And...are you?"  Matthew said very quietly.

"I don't know enough about what he's doing to really know that," confessed
Mulder, dropping his gaze to his hands in his lap.

"So...you're saying...you might be?"  Matthew asked carefully.

Mulder stared at his hands, breathing slowly and deeply.  He chewed his
cheek.  He sighed.  "Yeah.  I guess we might be."

Matthew let out a huge sigh.  "Well, shit, Fox.  I mean...Shit!"

Mulder smiled at that and turned his face up to meet Matthew's.  Matthew's
eyes glowed with intensity.

"You've *got* to find out," he said decisively, daring Mulder to disagree.
Mulder didn't.

"I know."

Matthew nodded, relieved that Mulder wasn't going to fight him on this.
"So, um...is there any way I can help?" asked Matthew after a long silence.

Mulder frowned as if considering.  "You know, I hadn't thought about that.
I mean, I wouldn't want to put you in any danger, but...it might help to
have a lookalike.  It might bring him out of hiding."

Matthew nodded, appearing pleased with the idea.  "Well, what do we do
next?"

"Let me think about that," said Mulder, turning his face into the sun, now
high on the horizon, warming his skin.  Matthew nodded and turned his own
face to the forest, wondering what kind of new adventure the world had in
store for him now.

..........................................

They were eating a quiet supper at the small table, having prepared it
together so that the meal was edible and Matthew's skin unburned.  Mulder
put his piece of bread down and spoke suddenly.

"I think he keeps an eye on me."

"Hmmm?" said Matthew, obviously not privy to Mulder's inner psychological
workings.

"Krycek.  I think...maybe he watches me.  Knows what I'm doing."

"Really?"

Mulder nodded.  "Yeah.  And things just really...well, they really changed,
and he's got to be somewhere, watching everything, waiting to come out of
his hiding place."

"You make him sound like a little forest creature," said Matthew, looking up
from under his lashes playfully.

Mulder laughed.  "Oh man.  I've never heard him called that," he continued.
"I've called him a few things, and I usually think of him as more of a rat,
because of the way he's turned on me so many times.  But forest creature?
That's good."  He smiled into Matthew's twinkling eyes, enjoying the lighter
atmosphere.

"Okay," Matthew said, still smiling.  "This makes things easier, doesn't it?
I mean, if he's watching you, all you have to do is somehow flush him out of
hiding, right?  Then you can talk to him."

Mulder shook his head, chuckling at Matthew's naivete.  "It's not quite that
simple, Matthew," he said, smiling sadly down into his empty plate.  "First
of all, it may not be safe for him to come out.  People could be trying to
kill him.  Others could be, too."

Matthew frowned but didn't ask what, other than people, might be wanting to
kill Alex.

"Second of all, he doesn't trust me any more than I trust him. I don't think
we can just...sit down and talk."

Matthew nodded.  "Okay.  Well, then...we need to think of something really
devious."  His eyes sparkled, and Mulder couldn't help but be drawn into
them.  His eyes widened as a wicked gleam came into Matthew's already
shining green depths.  "I've got it," Matthew said, jumping up from the
table, clearing it quickly.  "I know what we can do."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Holy...!"

Mulder laughed.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, Scully.  I'm really not."

"My God, Mulder...who is this guy?"

Mulder's brows lifted.  He hadn't really thought about that.
Could there be a possibility the two men were some sort of
relation to one another?  His mind whirled and he shook all
the new conjectures aside, focusing on the plan at hand.

"Good question," was all he said.  "So, Scully.  What do you
think about all of this?"

"Why do you want to lure him out, Mulder?  I mean...we can't
arrest him, you know.  We don't have anything on him, and
he'd probably be killed before the arraignment."

"I don't want to arrest him, Scully," said Mulder, hedging.

"Then...."prodded Scully.

"I...I just want to talk to him."

"Talk."

"Well, yeah, Scully.  I mean, after all that's happened, we
don't even really know who's alive or what's going on.  If
anyone would know, it would be him, right?"

"If he's even alive, Mulder.  He could have been there, you
know."  Scully said casually, having no idea of Mulder's real
motives.

"I...I hadn't thought of that, really," said Mulder quietly.  "I
guess I just...I always just expect him to make it through stuff
like this.  I suppose some day...he won't.  Maybe he didn't."

"Well, if he is alive, your plan is sure to bring him out, Mulder.
I just hope you know what to do with him once you have
him."

That made Mulder smile.  "Oh I think I know what to do with
him, Scully."

"All right then.  I guess I'm in.  I think you're insane, but
what's new?"

Mulder laughed.  "Thanks, Scully.  I owe you one."

"One?" Scully practically squeaked.  "Oh Mulder.  The yeti
was one.  This is...like...a baker's dozen, at least."

"Okay, okay," said Mulder, chuckling, delighted to have
Scully bring him back to such a positive place.  "I owe you
everything."  His voice was serious, but there was a smile in
it.

"Yeah, and don't forget it," said Scully, obviously smiling as
well.

"I'll get in touch as soon as we get him settled in, okay?"

"Okay.  I actually can't wait to meet this guy.  A nice Krycek.
What a concept."

"He's more than that, Scully.  You're really gonna like this
guy.  He's one of a kind."

Scully laughed at the irony, and Mulder caught the joke at the
last minute and laughed with her.

"Talk to you later, Mulder."

"Later, Scully."

Mulder ended the call and put down the phone.  A smile
curved his lips as he picked up his bags and turned off the
light, closing the bedroom door behind him.

...................................................................

"You look...really good," said Mulder when Matthew came
out of the bedroom.

"Yeah, I do," said Matthew, grinning.  He did a little
pirhouette for Mulder, and Mulder laughed, picturing his
Krycek ever doing something like that.

*His* Krycek.  Hmmm.  Well, he reasoned, Matthew was a
fake Krycek, so the real Krycek was...his?  That didn't really
work.  He decided not to think about it anymore.  He
appraised the man in front of him, unabashedly running his
eyes from head to toe.  Shorter hair, black silk dress shirt,
black leather jacket, black jeans, heavy black motorcycle
boots.  Mulder felt the drool collect under his tongue.  The
only thing missing was that dangerous gleam in Krycek's
eyes.  Matthew's were more...twinkly.  Mulder smiled.  He
liked twinkly, but he really *really* liked a good dangerous
gleam.

"Think it'll work?" said Matthew, tilting his head.

"I know it will," said Mulder, becoming more serious.  "But
we've got to be extremely careful.  I wish you'd reconsider
carrying a weapon.  We're dealing with some very dangerous
individuals, potentially."

"I don't do guns," said Matthew decisively, with a small shake
of his head.

Mulder sighed.  He'd have to be content with the wire they'd
put on Matthew's body, and the continuous reception of his
signal being piped into the Lone Gunmen's web of computer
servers.  No matter where in the country Matthew might go,
they'd be able to track him as long as he had that tiny little
subcutaneous transmitter.  It was smaller than a Norplant, but
bigger than the chip in Scully's neck.  Mulder was very
uncomfortable with the similarities.  Another thing he tried not
to think about too much right now.

"It's time to be seen," said Mulder, reaching his hand out for
Matthew's.  Matthew smiled and took it, and they walked,
hand in hand, down to Mulder's car.

Mulder drove from Matthew's safehouse to his part of town
with Matthew ducking low in the seat. Mulder tried not to
picture what Matthew, dressed in black denim and leather,
could be doing while he drove.

When they entered Mulder's neighborhood, Mulder let
Matthew know it was time.  They pulled up in front of
Mulder's building in full sight of anyone who might be
watching, and Mulder got out of the car, coming around to
open Matthew's door. Matthew stepped out of the car and
Mulder pushed him up against the side of the car, fastening
his mouth on Matthew's for a long, hard, hungry kiss.

Matthew's hands came up around Mulder's back, stroking
languidly.  Mulder grabbed Matthew's beltloops and jerked
him roughly up against him, driving a grunt from Matthew's
ravaged mouth.  Mulder gasped and pulled his mouth away,
breathing hard.

"Damn, Fox, you play the part pretty good!"  Matthew
murmured in Mulder's ear, nuzzling.

Mulder shivered, still grinding against Matthew.  "Call me
Mulder.  Alex would never call me Fox."  He drove his tongue
into Matthew's ear and Matthew cried out loudly, causing
Mulder to grab his head by the hair and pull him in for
another kiss, swallowing the sounds he didn't think Krycek
would allow himself to make.

He couldn't *wait* to find out.

He pulled back from the kiss and turned, grabbing Matthew
by the front of his jacket and pulling him up the stairs,
completely dazed.  When they got into the building, Mulder
let go of Matthew's jacket and took his arm gently.

"Thanks, Matthew.  I mean, I feel like such a shit, using you
like this, when I'm not gonna...you know...follow through."

Matthew licked his kiss-swollen lips and smiled.  "I'm just
gonna enjoy the ride, Fox...Mulder."

"You're a really special person, Matthew,"  Mulder said, his
voice serious as he let them both into his apartment.  He put
a hand on Matthew's chest before they entered, and
reminded him that the apartment was probably bugged, so
Matthew would have to play the Krycek part from here on
out.  Matthew nodded and tried to look scary.  Mulder
laughed and kissed him quickly, opening the door.

"Nice place, Mulder," said Matthew, looking around.  Mulder
frowned at him, shaking his head, mouthing, 'He's been
here!'  Matthew winced, grimacing at his mistake.

"Like you haven't seen it before," said Mulder snappishly.

Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes in relief.

"What kind of shit are you trying to pull, Krycek?"

"Just fuckin' with ya," said Matthew, and Mulder smiled,
nodding.

"Well I didn't bring you here to fuck with my *head*," said
Mulder darkly.  "So knock it off."

"Touch-ey!" said Matthew, and Mulder snickered silently,
picturing the real Krycek using such a phrase.  For some
reason, the thought of them exchanging such...pleasantries?
made his heart swell in his chest.  More accumulating
evidence Mulder didn't want to examine right now.

"Listen, I may be willing to accept your offer of information for
sex, but other than intel, the less you say to me the better,
got it?"

"Sure, Mulder," said Matthew, trying to sound bored.
"Whatever you say.  So, when do I get to fuck you?"

Mulder's body flushed from head to toe, hearing such a
blatant statement come out of those lips.  He couldn't decide
if it was the shock of hearing Matthew talk dirty, or the
thought of Krycek saying it.  Either way, his body was more
than ready to take this ruse to the limit.

"Uh...I guess, I mean...let's just get this over with," he finally
said, not faking his nervousness.  "Bedroom's in..."

"I know where it is, Mulder," said Matthew with a warning
look.

"Oh.  Yeah, I guess you probably do," answered Mulder,
shaking his head at the way his brain had stopped functioning
adequately.

"So get in there so I can collect my fee," said Matthew,
leveling a hot glance at Mulder as he clomped his heavy
boots across Mulder's floor and into his bedroom.

Mulder ran a hand through his hair and followed him in, trying
to calm his breathing.

When he entered the room, Matthew was standing there,
looking uncertain.  Mulder smiled and walked right up to him,
putting his lips to Matthew's ear, whispering quietly.

"We just have to make it sound like we're having a quick,
brutal fuck," he said breathlessly, his cock twitching as he
said the words.

"I...I've never really done that," said Matthew, sounding
similarly breathless, whispering back in Mulder's ear.

"Just stick to grunts, gasps, and groans," answered Mulder,
"and try to keep in mind that you're the one in charge here,
taking what you've earned."  Mulder's heart pounded, highly
aroused by the thought of being at Krycek's mercy this way.
He had to grin a little at the thought that Krycek had provided
the Weikamp information for just a kiss.  If he'd only known
how easy Mulder could be...

Matthew cleared his throat, stepping back from Mulder.
"Okay, um, I guess...let's start by you giving me head."

Mulder held back a giggle at how very unauthoritative
Matthew sounded, shaking his head.  He'd have to help
Matthew get accustomed to weilding the whip.

"You know what?  Fuck you, Krycek.  I'm not putting that
thing anywhere near my mouth.  Fuck me if you want, but
you can suck your own cock."  He smirked at Matthew,
putting the ball in his court.  Matthew's mouth dropped open,
his lashes fluttering.  Mulder couldn't believe how pretty he
was.

"If you want what I have for you, Mulder, you'll get on your
knees and suck my cock.  Otherwise, deal's off," said
Matthew in a slightly shaky voice.

Mulder nodded in approval, and Matthew sighed with relief.

"You asshole.  Fine.  I'll do it.  But we both know who the real
cocksucker is."  Mulder stepped forward and began noisily
fumbling with Matthew's jeans, making plenty of rustling
sounds as he unzipped them.

"I guess you'll never really know that, will you, Mulder?" said
Matthew with a tease in his voice.  Mulder looked up at him in
surprise and Matthew wrinkled his nose and blew Mulder a
playful kiss.  Mulder narrowed his eyes, smirking.  This kid
was a better player than Mulder had thought.  This was really
getting fun.

"Like I'd want that mouth anywhere near my cock," said
Mulder, trying to sound like he meant it a little.

"You want this mouth and you know it, Mulder," said
Matthew, pursing his lips in another mock kiss.  Mulder's
body screamed that yes, it did indeed, but Mulder breathed it
back, reminding himself that he couldn't use Matthew that
way, no matter how much the man might provoke him.  After
all, it was all just part of the game.  Right?

"Let's get this over with," he said sullenly, his frustration not
even half-faked.  They both waited a beat, then suddenly
Matthew let out a long, tortured groan.

"Ohhhh yeahhhh, Mulder...."

Mulder's cock jumped in his pants in response, his breathing
coming in shallow, hard pants.  That voice, saying those
words...it was just about enough to make him come.  He
could never have imagined.  He hummed deeply in his throat,
mimicking the sound of groaning around a cock in his mouth,
and he drooled at how badly he wanted it to be real.

Matthew started grunting rhythmically, closing his eyes to get
into the moment.  "Uhnn...yeah...that's
it...good...good...yeah..."

Mulder just stared at him, mouth open, his tongue stroking
his bottom lip repeatedly as Matthew dropped his head back
on his shoulders, immersing himself in his role.

Mulder groaned, then stopped, then realized that's what he
was supposed to be doing anyway.  He certainly didn't have
to fake this.

"Gonna...come...down your...throat, Mulder...are you...ready
for me?"

Mulder moaned deep in his throat, and watched,
mesmerized, as Matthew proceeded to have a fake orgasm.

"Ah!  Fuck!  Mulder!  Shit!  Uhnnnnn...."  Mulder's body jolted
in response, and he knew, he just knew, that if Matthew were
to reach for him, that he'd shove him down and fuck him for
all of two minutes before coming, hard.

But Matthew didn't, panting and catching his breath, head still
back, eyes closed.  Then he raised his head, lashes fluttering
as his eyes came open, and found Mulder looking at him.
The two men stared at one another, both wishing the whole
scenario they'd just played had been real.  Mulder finally
swallowed hard, nodding down to Matthew's fly, reminding
him to make the sounds of getting dressed again.

"You're good, Mulder," Matthew said softly, loudly zipping up
his pants and shuffling around on the floor.  "Well worth the
intel."

Mulder didn't reply, knowing that if it were Krycek, he'd be
expected to say nothing, to act like he hadn't wanted to do it.
Another game. He was so fucking sick of games.

"Just...put the disk on the table," said Mulder quietly.  "I'm
gonna go take a shower."

Matthew's eyes squinted, hearing the real pain in Mulder's
voice, and he silently stepped forward, intending to hold
Mulder in his arms.  Mulder stepped back with a quick shake
of his head, and Matthew looked down, arms dropping to his
sides.

Mulder tried to block out the pain in Matthew's eyes at his
rejection and went into the bathroom, turning the water on.
He would explain it to him later.  Right now, he just needed to
get some space, to get away from those green eyes, so
much like the ones he really wanted to see, and yet so
different.  He stayed in the bathroom for the amount of time
he would have been expected to shower, then turned off the
water and stood up to exit the bathroom and face Matthew.

He found him sitting silently on the couch, staring at his
hands clasped between his knees.  Mulder's heart squeezed
at what they had to do now, but he tried to think of the
whispered apologies he would give Matthew in bed tonight.

"What are you still doing here?" he said angrily.

Matthew looked up, and there were tears sparkling in his
eyes.  Mulder gasped and frowned deeply.

"I..." Matthew cleared his throat, trying to sound more cold. "I
need a place to stay.  I'm staying here."

"The fuck you are," said Mulder, trying to keep the tremor
out of his voice.

"You owe me," said Matthew, sounding tired, not having to
fake anything now.

"I...I gave you what we agreed on," said Mulder, unable to
make himself sound angry any longer.

"I'm changing the deal," said Matthew quietly.  "Live with it."
He got up from the couch and went into the bathroom, and
Mulder stood there, mouth open, speechless.  Matthew
exited the bathroom and went into the bedroom, where he
took the jacket off, throwing it across the room angrily. Mulder
came in behind him, a questioning look on his face. He
stepped in close to Matthew, and Matthew didn't back away,
just staring at his boots.

"Matthew," Mulder whispered, leaning in, putting his arms
around the other man.  "What's the matter?"

Matthew sighed, raising his arms and wrapping them around
Mulder's waist.  "This just feels so wrong," he whispered.
"I...I didn't know it would be so...hostile."

Mulder swallowed, his eyes closing.  "That's..." He sighed.
"That's how we are with each other.  I'm sorry."

Matthew nodded, wiping away a tear on Mulder's shoulder. "I
hope he heard all that because I think I'm going to throw up if
I have to feel that kind of disgust from you again...even
faked."

Mulder sighed, wondering if it hurt Krycek anywhere near as
much as it was hurting this innocent man caught in their web.
"It *is* faked, Matthew.  With you, definitely, and with
him...with him, too," he finished, squeezing Matthew tight.

"Maybe you should stop faking," whispered Matthew,
returning the hug.  "I mean, how can he respond to that with
anything other than more of the same, Fox?  How could any
love thrive with that kind of energy?"

"But..." sputtered Mulder, still whispering.

"I know the history," Matthew whispered back.  "And I'm not
asking you to forgive and forget, Fox.  I'm just saying that if
you really want to know how he feels, you can't pretend...not
like that.  He'll never feel safe enough.  You'll never know."

Mulder's body shuddered against Matthew's as he let go of
all his objections, accepting that Matthew was right.  A new
feeling replaced his confusion.  A cold, sick fear at baring his
heart to Krycek.  Fear that the truth he would find out would
shatter him, destroying what was left of his self-worth.

"Is it worth it?" he said shakily, feeling his eyes burn again.

"Can you afford *not* to know?" replied Matthew gently.
"Fox, you can't go on like this.  This was...so wrong.  This is
not okay.  You deserve to stop playing these sick games."

"I know you're right," Mulder whispered back finally.  "I'm
just scared, Matthew.  I don't want to let him in.  I'm so afraid
he's going to hurt me."

"He's already in," said Matthew, stroking Mulder's back.
"And it's already hurting you.  How could the truth make
things any worse?  At least then, you can either let him go for
good, or..."

Mulder's whole body trembled at what that silence implied. Or
be with him.  Somehow work through all the tangled mess
between them and find something...salvageable.  Something
that seemed so...necessary. He nodded against Matthew's
shoulder, then placed a silent, soft kiss on Matthew's hair
before pulling back and walking over to the door.

"You take the bed," he said in a voice full of gravel.  "I prefer
the couch anyway."

"Thanks," replied Matthew in a similarly rough voice.

Mulder exited the room, closing the door behind him, and
prepared to settle in for the night on the couch, as usual.

.................................................


Mulder jerked awake suddenly, listening for the noise he
knew must have pulled him from his sounder-than-usual
sleep.  He didn't hear anything, but he held his breath and
waited, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.  A creak. Just
a quiet creak of the floorboards.

"Matthew?" he whispered, sitting up.

"Who the *FUCK* is Matthew?"

Mulder's mouth dropped open as a figure stepped out of the
shadows.  He stared up at the dark form, speechless, trying
to see the green of his eyes in the inky blackness.  He could
only see a slight glitter, colorless, a few feet above the barrel
of a gun.

"Alex..."

"*Alex*?" Krycek hissed.  "What the hell kind of game are
you playing here, Mulder?  And who the *fuck* is Matthew?!"

Mulder licked his lips just as his bedroom door slowly opened.
Krycek and Mulder both turned and Krycek's eyes went
round, the whites now showing clearly, even in the absence
of light, as he swung the gun around on the new addition to
their little meeting.

"I guess it worked," said Matthew quietly, holding his hands
up in a defensive position.

Krycek just stared at him, slack-jawed and speechless.  Then
his eyes narrowed and he cocked the gun.  "You
motherfucking monster!  Get out here!"  He waved the gun,
ushering Matthew into the room on stumbling feet.  He
started to walk around behind him, raising the gun higher.  "I
know how to kill you, you fucking mistake," he growled.
"Mulder, leave the room.  Their blood's toxic."

"No!"  Mulder leapt off the couch as Matthew's head shook
frantically side to side, his whole body beginning to shake as
Krycek took aim.  "Alex!  Don't hurt him!"

Krycek spared him an incredulous glance, never taking his
gun off Matthew.  "You don't understand, Mulder!  Get the
fuck out of here!"

"Stop!" yelled Mulder, stepping over and taking a stark-white
Matthew in his arms, turning him away from Krycek.  "He's
human, Alex!"

"What?  You think I'm the fucking alien, Mulder?" Krycek
spat, shaking with rage.

"No!"  Mulder put his hand up.  "No, Alex, I know it's you.
You're both human, Alex.  Just put the gun down and I'll
explain."

Krycek looked at him, eyes narrowing in confused shock.
"You...you're in on this?" he asked incredulously.

Mulder sighed, closing his eyes a moment.  "Yeah, the whole
thing was my idea."

Matthew cleared his throat and spoke up, his voice coming
out in short, terrified pants.  "He...he did it to...find you..."
Mulder shot a scared frown in his direction, but Matthew was
evidently sick and tired of the lies and really wanted that gun
off him.  "He just wants to talk to you...we didn't do
anything...we just...faked it.  I swear."

"Faked it?" Krycek asked, shaking his head.  "What the fuck,
Mulder?"

"Alex, please take the gun off Matthew," said Mulder gently,
trying to calm him, stepping in front of Matthew, reaching
around behind him to offer him his hand.  Matthew clutched
at it frantically.

"Please," he said again, and to his surprise, Krycek flipped
the safety back on his gun and then uncocked it, flipping the
barrel upward and away.

Matthew sagged with relief, and Mulder felt him start to sway.
He turned around and caught him before he slid to the
ground.  "I'm sorry, Matthew. I'm so sorry.  I should have
been more careful.  It's okay." He held him and carefully led
him over to the couch as Krycek stared in helpless confusion,
gun now hanging at his side. Mulder got Matthew seated on
the couch and wrapped him in the blanket he'd been using,
then straightened up and turned back to Krycek.  "Let's go
into the bedroom."

Krycek's brows arched at that, but Mulder smirked.  "I just
want to talk."  For now.  "Alone."  He gestured toward the
open door with his hand, and Krycek narrowed his eyes,
squinting now, but nodded briefly.  Mulder sighed, giving
Matthew one more glance and seeing that he was laying on
the sofa, curled up in the blanket, eyes closed.  He stepped
around Krycek, walking into his bedroom without looking
back.  He heard nothing, but felt Krycek follow him in, and his
throat closed as he turned around to the sound of his
bedroom door being quietly closed.

Krycek stood there, an angry question in his eyes, and
Mulder just stared back, drinking in the sight of him.  His hair
was actually longer than they'd cut Matthew's, and he was,
blessedly, wearing his old motorcycle jacket.  Mulder couldn't
help but sigh softly, letting his gaze travel down the dark shirt
underneath it, to the black jeans and finally to the boots,
which, unlike Matthew's, weren't motorcycle boots but hikers.
Mulder grinned.  All in all, they'd done a pretty good job,
really.

"What's so damn funny?" Krycek bit out, obviously not
comfortable with Mulder's careful scrutiny.

"We got just about everything but that snarl right," said
Mulder, still smilng.

Krycek sighed, closing his eyes.  "Christ, Mulder, please. Just
tell me what's going on here."

"I will," said Mulder.  "But maybe *you* can tell me how you
knew Matthew was here?"  He raised his eyebrows, pursing
his lips in gentle accusation.  "I mean it took you...what...six
hours to get here?"

Krycek looked at a point beyond Mulder's shoulder, eyes
tightening.  "I keep an eye on you." He said quietly.

Mulder held his breath.  "Why?"

Krycek blinked, and Mulder saw the silhouette of his lashes,
even in the low light of the dark bedroom.  As long and
beautiful as Matthew's, but with the added seasoning of
history.  Mulder's chest hurt.

"I want to know what you're up to," Krycek said almost too
low for Mulder to hear.

Mulder shivered at the low rumble.  "Why?" He asked again,
his voice soft.

Krycek looked at him then, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Because sometimes we're up to the same things," he said
with an almost-silent sigh.

Mulder nodded.  It was as close to the truth as he could hope
to get, right now.  Like Matthew said, he'd never shown this
man anything but disgust, anger and hate.  How could he
expect anything different in return?  How could he expect
even a molecule of trust?  Matthew was right.  It was time to
drop the game.  He'd tell the truth, and what happened,
happened.  At least he'd know, finally, and maybe he could
rest his weary mind.

"Now you," said Krycek, gesturing with his chin.

Mulder took a deep breath and let it out.  Now me, he
thought.  Are you ready, Alex?

"I staged this whole thing to bring you out of hiding," he said,
never breaking eye contact with the man standing four feet in
front of him.

"What do you want?"  Krycek asked flatly.

You.  Mulder snorted softly.  Not yet.

"I want...I need to talk to you."

"What about, Mulder?" Krycek said, getting impatient.

"I found Matthew in Canada," said Mulder quietly, ignoring
the question for now.  Krycek's eyes narrowed but he said
nothing.  "I thought he was you, of course, so I stuck a gun in
his throat and nearly broke his left wrist."

Krycek snorted, then his smile faded.

"Yeah.  Left wrist.  That's when I realized it wasn't you.
Couldn't be you."

Krycek's eyes flicked away, and Mulder thought he saw the
ice flicker with something more vulnerable.  He swallowed
and continued.

"I took him to coffee to make up for scaring him to death,
then he invited me back to his place."

Krycek looked back at him, eyes narrowing once again.
Mulder nearly smiled at the proprietary expression,
wondering if Krycek realized what he was revealing with this
alpha male act.

"I was very attracted to him," said Mulder softly, looking
deeply into Krycek's eyes, watching them blink rapidly, trying
to understand.  "And I was kissing him, and watching him
undress, and then he was undressing me."  He saw Krycek's
lip tremble just slightly, and he wondered if it was just a trick
of the low light.  "And then I made him stop."

Krycek's lashes fluttered against his cheeks and Mulder saw
his chest rise and fall quickly.  "I realized it wasn't really
Matthew I wanted," Mulder finished, taking a step toward
Krycek.  He saw those eyes fill with fear but Krycek didn't
step back.

"His body was whole, and he didn't have any scars, or lines
of pain etched into his face," Mulder continued, and this time
he was close enough that the twitch of that lower lip could not
have been mistaken for anything but what it was.  He stepped
in closer, inhaling the smell he'd wanted ever since he'd been
close to Matthew.  A smell that made him swoon, and his
eyes drifted closed for a moment, then opened again to find
they were pinned by a wide, gleaming laser intensity.

"He was beautiful," said Mulder very softly, beginning to raise
his arm.  He could see that Krycek was trying very hard not to
jerk back from him, and was even trembling slightly.  "But he
wasn't you," Mulder finished, lifting his fingers to Krycek's
face and stroking very softly down his cheek.  "And so he
wasn't the one I really wanted." He leaned in, drowning in the
round, dark eyes, and pressed his lips to the ones now
definitely trembling in front of him.

He immediately felt a wrenching gasp against his mouth and
swallowed it, pusing his tongue between the parted lips and
sucking down the sobs that came after it.  He worked his
hand into Krycek's hair and held his head firmly in place as
his other arm snaked around Krycek's waist, bumping the
gun as he pulled him close.

The gun clattered to the floor and Krycek's arm came up,
suddenly gripping Mulder's body hard.  He yanked Mulder in
closer, harder, driving the breath from his lungs, bruising his
ribs.

Mulder moaned into Krycek's mouth and felt Krycek's tongue
finally thrust forward to meet his own.  A continuous string of
whimpering moans filled his mouth and he swallowed them
down, feeling his body being crushed, his mouth being
devoured, nearly passing out with the bliss of it.

His lips were released, and he gasped for air as Krycek's
mouth moved erratically over his face, kissing and
murmuring.  He let his head fall back, eyes closed, drowning
in the feeling of being tasted, claimed, worshipped by this
man.  Suddenly, he felt like he was falling but realized he was
just being pushed backward, Krycek's arm keeping him
upright as he was guided to the bed.

"Yes," he murmured in encouragement, and Krycek
fastened his mouth back on Mulder's in reply, then leaned
forward, lowering them both to Mulder's bed much more
gracefully than Mulder would have expected.  Mulder began
to frantically push the jacket from Krycek's shoulders, and
Krycek withdrew his arm from around Mulder to make it
easier, never leaving off from his conquest of Mulder's
mouth, grunting as his jacket was pushed down first his arm
then his prosthesis, then flung somewhere behind him.

Mulder worked at the buttons on his shirt, moaning into
Krycek's mouth, feeling his need for this man rise to
desperate heights, burning away everything else. He felt
some of the buttons pop as he got the shirt open, and he felt
his nails scratch flesh, but Krycek only squirmed on top of
Mulder's body, making it easier for Mulder to take the shirt
off.

Mulder felt the metal and plastic of the prosthesis bang
against his hip hard and grunted with the sudden pain.
Krycek pulled back suddenly, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded,
lips glistening with their shared saliva.  "I'm sorry," he
gasped, the first words he'd said since Mulder's confession.

"Take them off," said Mulder, struggling with Krycek's jeans,
ignoring the apology in favor of much more important
matters.  Krycek reached down and ripped open the fly, and
Mulder smiled as he realized how much easier a button-fly
was to open one-handed than to fasten closed. He'd worry
about that second part later.  He reached up and jerked on
Krycek's jeans, pulling them roughly down his hips and
thighs, taking the thin pair of briefs with them.  He gasped as
he got his first look at Krycek's full, dark, weeping cock.

"Beautiful," he breathed, unable to keep himself from
running his fingers over it softly.

Krycek inhaled sharply and made a desperate groaning
sound, beginning to tremble violently as Mulder sat up on the
bed, his legs bracketing Krycek's body on either side.  The
height wasn't quite right for him to take Krycek's cock into his
mouth properly, but he wrapped one hand around it and
squeezed, wringing forth a sobbing groan from the man in
front of him.  He bent low and placed a reverent kiss on the
tip, licking away the drops of precum and beginning to drool
with how much he wanted more.  Krycek hissed and jerked
back, unstrapping his prosthetic arm roughly and letting it
drop, toeing off his jeans after bending to undo the buckles
on his boots.

Mulder could only watch, spellbound, as Krycek's body was
unveiled before him.  When Krycek was finally free of all of
his clothes, he looked at Mulder with what could only be
described as a predatory gleam in his eyes, and then lunged,
yanking him up by a fistful of T-shirt for another hard, wet,
bruising kiss.

Mulder groaned and ran his hands up Krycek's heaving
sides, feeling the muscles there bunch and flex at his touch.
Krycek was much harder than Matthew, and Mulder could
feel the scars from any number of work-related injuries. He
shivered at the undeniable proof that this Krycek, finally, was
the one he wanted.  The only one he needed.

He felt himself being thrown back down on the bed, then
Krycek's hand was at the waist of his sweat pants, ripping
them down, tearing the fabric as he stripped Mulder and
threw the ruined cotton fabric behind him.  Mulder pulled his
T-shirt off quickly and was suddenly naked and trembling on
the bed with Krycek standing over him.  Then Krycek fell on
him like a hungry animal, taking his mouth once again,
grinding his wet, rock-hard cock against Mulder's, forcing a
desperate, sobbing moan out of his throat which was quickly
swallowed by a deeper, raspier growl.

Mulder's hands tried to be everywhere at once, scratching
and grabbing and pulling and stroking, and he knew that
more than anything he wanted to have Krycek inside him,
making him scream and writhe and come.  He tried to pull his
mouth away from Krycek's to tell him that, but Krycek
growled and pressed his mouth down hard on Mulder's,
bruising his lips and keeping him exactly where he wanted
him.  Mulder's mouth was already so open, his jaw so wide
with taking Krycek's kiss that he couldn't speak, so he
decided he'd have to use body language.

His legs were half-hanging off the bed, his body pinned by
Krycek's.  He raised them, working them up around Krycek's
body, climbing until they were wrapped around his hips.  He
tilted his hips up, grunting into Krycek's mouth, and Krycek
must have finally gotten the message, because he released
Mulder's aching, tingling mouth and grabbed his own erection
around the base.

"I'm clean," he gasped out, "but I'll use something if you
want."

"I believe you," Mulder replied breathlessly, feeling it down to
his soul, knowing Krycek would never knowingly let him come
to harm.  "Now Jesus Christ please just *FUCK* me!"  He
pulled himself onto the bed more as Krycek grabbed him
around the hips, shoving him back onto the bed lengthwise,
then pushed his legs up against his chest impatiently.

Krycek rubbed the wet head of his cock against Mulder's ass,
panting.  "How long..." he asked.

"How long what?" Mulder gasped, pushing himself forward,
swooning at the feeling of Krycek's cock about to fill him.

"How long has it been, Mulder?" said Krycek, trembling with
the effort of holding back, smearing the tight opening with his
precum.

"Long time," answered Mulder, and Krycek nodded, pulling
his cock away.  "NO!"

"Shhhhhh lisa.  Just don't want to hurt you," Krycek said,
lowering himself down onto his chest, scooting down the bed.
It took Mulder about two seconds to figure out what Krycek
was about to do, and when he did, he groaned and threw his
head back into the pillows before ever feeling the touch of his
hot, wet tongue.

When Krycek's wet heat really did stab against Mulder's
asshole, Mulder cried out, gripping the blanket beneath him,
then grabbed his knees with one arm as his legs began to
shake uncontrollably.

Krycek lapped at the small opening, grunting and humming,
then Mulder felt the slick, hot tongue press into him, fucking
him deeply.  He sobbed, feeling tears actually begin to
squeeze from the corners of his eyes.  It was so good, but it
only made him desperate to have it all, to be finally, finally
filled and complete.

"Please...please, Alex," he begged.  "So good but please
fuck me..." he was nearly crying now but he didn't care, it
was honest, and he was never going to play the game again.
He wanted this, and he didn't care if Krycek knew how badly.

Krycek gave him a final rough swipe of his tongue and said,
"Do you have anything?  I don't carry it around with me."

Have...what?  Oh!  "Fuck that, Alex!  No, I don't know!  Don't
worry about it!  Please!"

Krycek crawled up Mulder's body.  "Okay, okay lisitsa.  We
can do this.  Shhhhh..."  He reached up and Mulder cried out
as Krycek squeezed his cock firmly, working out a generous
amount of precum, then doing the same to his own cock with
a groan, gathering the slippery fluid and rubbing it into
Mulder's tight ring of muscle, firmly and carefully.  He
pressed in, pulling and pushing the tightness into submission,
opening Mulder as much as possible in the shortest amount
of time. Mulder squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears
trickle into his ears, but tried not to say anything more.
Finally, finally Krycek pressed the blunt end of his cock to
Mulder's slick opening and *pushed.*

"Uhhhhhnnnnn!" They both groaned at once as Krycek slid
into Mulder's body.  Mulder was panting, dizzy with the
pleasure/pain of being filled, and Krycek's face was a
grimace of tension as he struggled to make this last for the
both of them.  He gave another shove and sank deeper into
Mulder, and Mulder whimpered and then moaned, willing
himself to open faster, accept Krycek's cock more quickly.
Krycek shuddered, then with a last, deep groan shoved
himself the rest of the way in, falling forward slightly, his one
arm trembling violently with the effort of holding him up.

Mulder lowered his legs, wrapping them around Krycek's hips
now that he was buried deep inside.  "C'mere," he panted,
reaching up and grabbing Krycek by the back of the neck,
pulling him down.  Krycek leaned in and pressed his lips to
Mulder's, still holding himself up with one arm, and Mulder
wondered how long it had taken for Krycek to be able to do
such a prolonged one-armed push-up.  He felt a fleeting
twinge of pain at the thought that he had practiced on other
men, but refused to let himself think about anything bad.

He stroked his hand down Krycek's sweat-slickened, shaking
arm, imploring him wordlessly to just relax down onto his
body.  Finally, he worked his hand up under Krycek's,
pushing it out from under him and twining their fingers
together.  Krycek relaxed onto him with a deep, shuddering
groan and began to thrust.  Mulder groaned and sucked
Krycek's tongue deep, as his body was rocked and pounded
and filled.  They grunted and moaned into one another's
mouths, Mulder's free hand pulling at Krycek's shoulder and
back, then stroking up through the soft, sweaty hair, his other
hand holding Krycek's fast at their sides.

Each thrust of Krycek's body against Mulder's put hard
friction on his cock, and he was getting closer and closer.
Then Krycek shifted his angle, and Mulder tilted his hips, and
his body jolted with the pleasure of the just-right contact
between cock and prostate.  He sobbed into Krycek's mouth,
trying to let him know that he couldn't hold on any longer.  In
reply, Krycek pounded harder, driving Mulder's body into the
mattress, crushing and rubbing his cock between their two
rigid abdomens, and banging his prostate now with every
stroke.

Mulder tore his mouth away from Alex's and screamed as he
came, his throat tearing with all the old anger and pain and
longing and frustration and lust and fear and love.  He
sobbed as his body bucked beneath Alex's, their bodies
sliding against one another slickly now, covered with Mulder's
release.

Mulder ran a trembling hand down Krycek's back as his body
relaxed, and he felt Krycek go rigid, then start to thrust into
his body with hard, jerky, shallow stabs.  Krycek sobbed his
own release out against the side of Mulder's neck, mouth
open, teeth pressing painfully into Mulder's tendon.  Mulder
reveled in it, feeling Alex give him everything, feeling him let
go of it all and just give himself totally.

As Krycek came down off his climax, their bodies still moved
against one another, slowly, languidly, not wanting to break
the catalystic connection.  They breathed, letting go of one
other's hands so that they could stroke bodies and faces, lips
moving softly over eyes and cheeks and then coming
together in gentle, chaste kisses.

Finally, Krycek pulled out of Mulder with a quiet groan and
slid to the left side, taking his weight off Mulder and putting it
on the side of his body with the missing arm.  The other one
stroked up and down Mulder's chest, and Mulder took hold of
it in one of his own, bringing it up to his lips to place a kiss on
it, then holding it against his heart, turning in slightly to face
Krycek.  He felt his body sink quickly into a swirling, relaxed
sleep.

........................................

Mulder woke with sunlight streaming over his face, blinding
him.  He raised his hands to shield his eyes, and felt his body
protest the action, muscles sore and tired.  He remembered
why and smiled, squinting.  Then he realized he was the only
one in the bed and the smile faded.  He quickly got up off the
bed and pulled on some boxer briefs, not bothering with
anything else in his haste to look for Alex.  He opened his
bedroom door, frowning and scrubbing his hand through his
hair.

"Good morning, Fox!" said Matthew cheerfully.  "Sleep
well?"

"Where's Alex?" said Mulder, ignoring Matthew's sunny
greeting.

"He's making eggs," said Matthew, rolling his eyes.  "I
already made breakfast, but he insisted, so..."  He gestured
to the kitchen.

Mulder let out a deep sigh of relief, his eyes closing for just a
moment, and Matthew gave him a puzzled look, then smiled.
"You're not too far off base, you know," said Matthew, his
brow furrowed in irritation.  "The little shit actually tried to
sneak out this morning!"

"I did not sneak," came the retort from the kitchen, then
Krycek came to the doorway, and Mulder's mouth dropped
open in shock.  He was wearing a ruffly apron and carrying a
spatula.  Mulder couldn't tell if he was wearing anything else.
One eyebrow quirked up in appreciation as he looked at his
fantastical apparition.  Krycek ignored the open-mouthed
appraisal he was getting, gesturing with the spatula at
Matthew.  "If I had been sneaking, you never would have
caught me, pretty boy."

"Pretty boy?" asked Matthew, eyebrows lifting.  "Doesn't that
imply a rather high estimation of your own personal beauty,
Alex?"

Krycek just shrugged.  "Whatever.  Point is, I was not
sneaking out."

"What were you doing then?" asked Mulder quietly, catching
Krycek's eye.

Krycek turned to face him, the playful expression fading.  "I
wasn't leaving, Mulder.  I just needed to get some space
between you and...me."

"How much space?"  Mulder's voice was small.

"Just the amount from your bedroom to the couch," Krycek
answered, smirking a little.  "And of course that's when I
remembered our little guard-puppy here already had dibs on
it."

"Guard-puppy?" asked Matthew indignantly.

"Yep," answered Krycek, mouth curving up in a half-grin.
"I'm sorry, Mulder," he said, serious again.  "I'm sorry you
thought I would leave after...that..."

Mulder walked over and raised his hand, stroking it down the
side of Krycek's face.  Krycek leaned into the touch, eyes
fluttering closed.  Mulder leaned in, brushing Krycek's lips
with his own.  "Just don't do that to me again," he said, his
voice heavy with layers of meaning.  He looked into Krycek's
eyes, now just inches in front of his own, and Krycek blinked
and looked back.

"I won't."

"So," Matthew piped up.  "Since my cooking sucks so bad,
Alex, why don't you grace us with the world's best eggs
already?"

Mulder picked up the bottom of Krycek's apron, quirking one
eyebrow.  "And this?"

Matthew actually giggled.  "My idea!" he said proudly, smiling
big, all teeth.  "I remembered how much you seemed to like
that look on me.  Figured it would be even better on your one
true love."

Krycek gasped, then recovered himself and tried to look
anywhere but at Mulder, his face hot and red.  Mulder gaped
at Matthew, who only shrugged, trying to look innocent.
Mulder's eyes narrowed, then he noticed Krycek's
discomfort, feeling the tension coming off the man in waves.

"You figured right," he said finally, stroking his hand through
Krycek's hair with a small smile.

Krycek didn't look at him, his eyes blinking rapidly as his
chest heaved beneath the apron.  Mulder grabbed his chin
and turned his face, forcing Krycek to look at him.  "Well,
hey," he said softly.  "I wouldn't let just anybody fuck me like
that."  Then he stopped and chewed on his lips a minute, and
Krycek just stared, his throat working.  He considered a
minute, then thought, what the hell.

"I've fucked a few men in my life, Alex," he said, rubbing his
thumb over that perfect, pink bottom lip.  "But I've only made
love to one."  Krycek's eyes fluttered closed, his lip trembling
beneath Mulder's thumb, and Mulder leaned in and kissed
him softly.  "I love you, Alex.  No more games.  Just truth."
Krycek's lips twitched, his eyes still closed, his face tight.
"Hey," said Mulder suddenly, his voice brightening.  "Why
did you kiss me that night, Alex?"

Krycek's eyes fluttered open and his lips parted in surprise.
Mulder arched his brows, waiting for an answer.

"I...I needed...to touch you," Krycek whispered.  "Without
pain. Just you.  And me."

Mulder leaned in and kissed him one more time, and Krycek
kissed him back this time, lips trembling as they moved
against Mulder's.

"No more games," whispered Mulder against Krycek's lips.

"Just truth," replied Krycek, his voice broken.

Matthew watched this all silently, his eyes full of tears, and he
tried to make himself invisible, curled up on the couch, knees
under his chin.

Mulder pulled away from Krycek, stroking across his lips one
more time with his thumb, then turned to Matthew.

"C'mere," he said quietly, gesturing with his head.  He looked
at Krycek to make sure this was okay with him, and Krycek's
eyes shone with open wonder.  Mulder sighed at the power of
it and waved his hand to hurry Matthew along.

Matthew uncurled himself from the couch and walked over,
and Mulder immediately pulled him in into a hard hug, holding
him close.  He pulled back and held Matthew's face in his
hands, stroking away Matthew's tears with his thumbs,
smiling.  "You," he said.  "You gave me this.  I can't...thank
you doesn't begin to..."

"You're welcome," said Matthew, giving Mulder one of his
most heart-stopping grins.  And Mulder couldn't help but lean
in and kiss it.  He pulled back and looked at Krycek, who
couldn't quite keep the jealousy out of his eyes but said
nothing, looking from Matthew to Mulder.

Matthew looked at Krycek and recognized the look he saw
there.  "Oh Alex," he said, smiling.  "Believe me.  He is *so*
yours, babe.  I mean, there I was, practically naked and
ready to throw him down and do him all night, and who's he
thinking about?"  Matthew poked Krycek gently in the chest
with one finger.  "You."  He grinned.  "He wouldn't even give
me a blowjob in the interests of making our little plan work."

"Good thing," murmured Alex, giving Matthew a glare, then
softening into a slight smile.  "Thanks, Matthew.  I have no
idea what you did to him, but...thanks."

"All part of the package," replied Matthew, smiling cheerfully.
"After all, if I'm gonna get repeat business, it's sure as hell
not going to be with my cooking."

Mulder and Krycek both laughed, and Mulder realized it was
the first time he'd heard Krycek laugh since they'd been
partners.  He'd forgotten what it sounded like.  From the wet
shine in Krycek's eyes, he guessed Krycek had, too. Matthew
grinned at them both, apparently delighted to have been the
catalyst for their coming together, then impulsively threw his
arms around Krycek and hugged him hard.  Krycek started
for a minute, unused to public displays of affection, then put
his arm around Matthew, still holding the spatula after all this
time.

"So, Alex," said Mulder, smirking at the love-fest going on
between the two gorgeous men.  "You cook?"

"Yeah, I cook," said Krycek over Matthew's shoulder, and
Matthew let him go, stepping away, grinning ear to ear.

"Well, let's eat then," said Mulder, reaching around and
giving Krycek a swat on the ass, discovering to his
disappointment that there was indeed a pair of underwear on
under the apron.

Krycek gave him a warning look then wrinkled up his nose
and blew him a kiss, turning and heading back into the
kitchen.  Mulder and Matthew looked at each other, mouths
open, for a few minutes, then followed him in, shaking their
heads, smiling.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Okay, that's really it for a little while, anyway.  But I do have more plans
for this one.  Copious feedback just might persuade me to write more and
faster.  :-D  bizzzichick@yahoo.com