Disclaimer: I do not own any of the X-files characters or situations. I am not making any money from this. The X-files belongs to Chris Carter and Fox.
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Alex Krycek opened his eyes in a strange bed. The sheets were smooth and unwrinkled. He felt cool and weightless, but he could not recognize the smooth plastered ceiling. His mind was as blank as the sheets which wrapped around him. He closed his eyes and forgot the worry as he hovered back into a gentle sleep.
A soft shuffling noise made Alex's eyes flutter awake again. He couldn't move too inspect the sound as he found his body felt stiff and corpse-like. It was a comforting sound, like wet feet on carpet. He tilted his head up as high as he could manage. Every joint, bone, and muscle in his body ached.
There was a woman in the room. At first her skin confused him. It had been sometime since he had seen such beautiful coppery skin. Water dripped from her between her fingers as she wrung her hair dry. The drops trickled between the cleft of her soft ass.
Alex had no idea why he was in a room with a naked woman; a woman whose entire body seemed to be composed of long, colt-like legs. She had small, but pert breasts. Her nipples stood erect in the enjoyable chill of the room. He tried to sink further into the sheets of the bed. She showed no sign of knowing he was there.
In the mirror, above the bureau, Alex saw himself and the woman. His half-hidden, stubble-covered-mug looked bruised and heavy next to her splendid creamy hip which curved like the swish of an's'. Though her back was mostly turned to him, the mirror revealed that she was smiling as if thinking of a pleasant moment to come. She searched through the top drawer of the bureau and pulled out a pair of panties. She held the lace and ribbon to her belly before stepping into the garment. The white ribbon divided her ass in such perfect symmetry that it looked almost innocent. But the tiny piece of white lace that barely covered the soft, hairless folds of her pussy drove Alex to a frenzied arousal. He whispered a disbelieving curse that sounded more like a groan of pleasure. His cock was engorged.
The woman tucked a short piece of drying hair behind her ear and smiled at him in the mirror. Alex's face looked blood red set against the crisp sheets. She rested her hands on her hips and turned to face him.
"Feeling better?"
Her supple lips distracted him, as he could not stop himself from thinking how they would look wrapped around his pulsing cock. He did not answer her.
"You've been passed out for almost a day now."
Alex could still not speak. He tried to sneak his hand beneath the sheets in order to wrestle his erect cock lower so it did not make such a tall and obvious tent. She smiled like a vicious cat. She made no move to cover her body.
"What is going on?" Alex finally croaked. His voice felt heavy and uneven. She smirked again. He decided that although she was beautiful, he liked her better when she thought he wasn't watching her. She crawled into bed and stretched out onto the pillow next to his face. She hugged it to her pretty breasts and the gentle curve of her belly.
"You've made the Consortium very happy."
"I don't even remember what I did."
This made Marita burst into harsh, forced laughter. She reached out and rasped her fingers against his rough cheek.
"You figured it out."
And it all came rushing back to him. The battle with the alien in the laboratory. It had gestated much earlier than anyone had expected. Guarding the lab and encouraging the scientists (in more brutal ways than he cared to remember) had been his first major assignment for the Consortium. He had helped with the lab work whenever he could as long as the Russian scientists and officers were behaving themselves. But the alien, birthed from a host infected with the black oil, grew far too quickly within the gut of an unfortunate prisoner. It had burst out in the middle of the night, when almost everyone at the lab station was asleep. The creature mindlessly attacked. It ripped men in half with one massive sweep of its clawed hands.
Three days passed with no luck in cornering the thing. Blood covered the lab like a poorly applied coat of paint. Finally, on the last day, the alien ripped into a soldier in front of Alex. They had been barricading themselves in the control room, radioing for help. But when the alien forced down the steel door, it flew into a rage on the young Russian soldier. The way the creature's long fingers made a smooth uppercut through the man's torso flung pieces of intestines at Alex's face.
It was enough to send him into a rage. With only his knife in hand (they had realized in the previous days that bullets were completely ineffective) he wrestled the alien to the floor. The thing swiped at him, but Alex stayed so close that it was difficult for it to take a good rip at him. Alex stabbed blindly. The green, acidic blood burned against his skin and made him choke and gag. But out of some blind luck, amidst their struggle, he stabbed the thing in the back of the neck. It quivered and died. Alex had passed soon after the alien stopped twitching. Without adrenaline from the fight, his injured body could no longer sustain consciousness.
And then he found himself in this beautiful woman's bed.
"You've been in a hospital for weeks. But when they realized that you would be regaining consciousness soon, they sent you home with me."
"And who are you," Alex said. He licked his parched lips.
"Marita Covarrubias."
"Why did they send me with you?" he asked in a way he hoped didn't sound too ungrateful. Her breasts were practically pressed against his face. Strong vibrations of pleasure lingered around his loins. Marita hesitated, as if searching for the best words.
"Because the Consortium is grateful," she said with a serious emphasis on every word. "You found the aliens' Achilles heel. Now we know we can kill them at the base of the neck."
"Oh." It was the only thing Alex could think to say. He pondered what she meant by "grateful," although he could guess.
"They're so happy with you right now," she said as she leaned even closer. One of her long legs lobbed across his body so it rubbed against his engorged cock. She rubbed her legs against him through the sheet.
"So what are you?"
"I'm yours."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm your gift from the Consortium." She traced her hand across the hard planes of his muscular chest. Alex would have liked to hold her in his arms, but the pains in his body stopped him. Something else stopped him as well.
"I'm really tired."
Marita frowned and stopped grinding her pelvis and its lacy accoutrement against his body. But the smile returned. She laid her head down onto his chest.
"The offer stays open."
"I'm sure it does," Alex muttered into her hair. He ached to hold her and fuck her hard. But he had to remind himself, that she was a tool of the Consortium. He could not allow her to control him, even if that control were the kind of bed pleasures he could only imagine.
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A week later, Alex was well enough to return to the Consortium's headquarters. He reported to the members about his ordeal and his discovery. They had the entire incident on tape, but they questioned him thoroughly about the exact placement of the knife.
He suggested that they continue these experiments in the other global labs, but to focus on pinpointing the exact location of the aliens' weakness. Alex also suggested that they use a smaller and more direct weapon, like a stiletto, to minimize the wound size and the consequent toxic spray of alien blood. The old men, wearing their pin-stripe suits and smoking their odorous cigars, looked like proud grandfathers. Marita was in the briefing room as well. She watched him from her seat in the corner with a cool visage that made him shiver and stutter if he looked at her for too long. Spender seemed to notice his difficulties. The old man smiled as he took short, kiss-like drags on his cigarette. His hard eyes shifted between Alex and Marita.
The whole event made Alex shaky with nerves, but his training allowed him to present an entirely different character: fearless, ambitious, and loyal. Most days he lived as someone else anyway. It was the life of a spy and the life of a consortium member. He rarely felt very enthusiastic for the Consortium projects, but he felt an obligation to prevent colonization. It was too great a responsibility to ignore.
Perhaps only Marita and Spender recognized his act because they were the only ones to have seen him in his true state. Spender had known him since he was a child and was the one responsible for his training. Alex knew Marita's little smirks in the back of the room were probably due to her recognition of his confidence act. She had seen him at his most vulnerable in her bedroom. He suspected it wouldn't be the last time she would see his guard come down.
After the meeting ended, Marita told Alex that she had some paperwork of his in her office. He followed her clacking heels down the marble-tiled hallway. She opened a file cabinet drawer, shook her head and shoved it back. Alex stood in the doorframe; unwilling to enter further into her office. She bent over to open a lower drawer and rustled through the files. Her skirt rode up the back of her legs so Alex could see almost all of the back of her thighs. He had to look away from all that supple, warm skin. He scowled and tried to look bitter.
"Here's another benefit," she said as she brought the file over to him. Alex reached for the manila folder, but Marita snatched it away and held it behind her back. "Come with me."
"What is it?" Alex asked as he chased after her once again, hating and loving every minute of it.
"You're immigration status," Marita said in a clipped, business as usual voice. She walked down the hall and punched the button to the elevator. It dinged open. They stepped inside. "Technically, you're still an illegal Soviet immigrant." The doors of the elevator shut slowly. Marita hit the button for the first floor. Her office was on the 33rd.
"That wasn't my decision, Spender took me when I was a kid."
"I know. The UN normally doesn't get involved with immigration issues, not our department."
"You work for the UN?"
Marita nodded. She tapped a corner of the folder against her lips. She didn't wear lipstick and Alex liked that.
"Your immigration was so unusual…"
"Illegal you mean."
"…That there's no proper channel to fix it now. It's been too many years."
"About twenty," Alex snorted
"So the UN will grant you diplomatic immunity."
"Then those problems are solved?"
"I suspect you should be a little less worried doing domestic work now. Just another benefit the Consortium is willing to offer now."
Alex didn't want to respond to this. Anything he said would be twisted into an invitation. He didn't want his balls held in her hands; no matter how soft and pretty they appeared. Marita watched him from the corner of her eye. She must have seen the look of struggle and frustration on his face. She smiled for no apparent reason. Alex watched her suspiciously. They were only on the 17th floor. The elevator was ancient and groaned slowly down its cable.
The folder dropped to the floor at Alex's feet. Marita bent down to pick it up. As she stood, her face paused momentarily at his crotch. In a quick and secretive move, she dragged her lips gently up along the zipper of his pants. Alex's first reaction was to grab her head and force her down harder onto his cock, but his second reaction was the opposite. While his mind battled over the best option, Marita's bottom lip caught against the tip of his cock. Alex gasped and cradled her head closer. Marita gave the bulging tip a kiss, then stood up straight again. Alex watched her in disbelief. She was so bold that he hated her for it. He glared at her.
Marita looked a little shaken when she saw his face. She seemed unsure of her best move and wavered between leaning closer to kiss his lips and giving him space. She handed him the folder, which he took without a word, and seemed to decide on the latter option. They were silent for the rest of the ride.
Alex stepped off at the first floor. He wanted to walk away without glancing back, but he couldn't help himself. She looked sad and pitiful as the elevators closed. Her blue eyes were opened so round, her mouth was slightly parted. Alex wanted very badly to rush back inside that elevator and fuck her the whole thirty-three floors up, but that would just put him right back into the pocket of the Consortium. An elite group that taped your lab's disaster without ever bothering to send help until most of the witnesses had been eliminated anyway.
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Alex saw Marita at work over the next week several times. He was assigned new projects that required more strategic thinking on an international scale. Of course, Marita was one of the Consortium's experts on international relations. So as he planted a key network of spies along most of the former Soviet Satellite states and in the northern desert regions of Africa, Marita helped speak to the right people and give the right bribes.
She was a daily irritation. No longer did she so overtly throw herself at him. Mostly, she blushed when he was around. For his part, he kept their relationship strictly professional. Although, it was hard to concentrate when her vanilla perfume tingled on his skin or when he caught glimpses of her smooth breasts down her shirt. He grew to love the way she tucked her hair behind her ears as a nervous habit.
But on the Monday of the second week of his return, Marita knocked on the door of Alex's office. He called for her to come in. Spread over his desk was a large map of the Krasnoyarsk province of Russia. He was searching for the most easily defended setting for a new laboratory which would focus on the black oil vaccine.
"Did you need something?" he asked her, barely looking up from the beige colored map. In general, he tried to look at her as little as possible. She shifted from one high heel to the other and nibbled on her well-manicured thumbnail.
"Marita?" he asked again, this time he watched her more carefully. She stared at her feet. With a deep breath, she looked him in the eyes. The corners of her eyes twitched.
"Alex, I hope you know that I've been assigned to fuck you." Her face flushed deep red. Her hands shook.
Alex went back to studying the map. He refused to look at her.
"I'm getting in trouble over this," she continued.
Still he remained silent. He traced his finger along the course of a river to the ocean, and then retraced its path again and again.
"It's not my idea. It's just supposed to fun for you."
"Oh," he said in his most non-committal voice. Marita sighed in frustration and stamped over beside him.
"Why don't you want me?" she asked in a wavering tone. Her skin was blotchy red to the roots of her hair. Alex's breathing grew much heavier. His body turned to face her although he still couldn't look her in the eye. She leaned closer.
Finally, she took a step in between him and the desk. She rested the trembling palms of her hands on the map, planted her legs apart, and thrust her ass against his crotch. Alex hesitated then grabbed her hips and thrust himself against her without control. His hands roamed up and squeezed her breasts as he humped against her. The desk thumped against the floor.
"I want you so bad," he said in a deep, strained voice.
"Then just take me."
"I can't." He smacked her ass, grabbed it again, mauled her, kissed her neck.
"Why not?" Marita whimpered as he fumbled to find her clit. When he felt the reassuring button, nestled away between the softest part of her legs, he gave it a vicious pinch.
He flipped her around and pressed her back down onto the desk as he nestled himself between her legs and kissed her breasts. He attacked her lips and left them bruised and puffy.
"They're using you to hold me down."
"Forget about them."
"You're a…" but Alex couldn't continue. He fumbled with his belt and yanked the zipper of his pants down. Marita raised her legs so they rested on his shoulders. She wore no underwear. Alex took two fingers and thrust them inside her. She was sticky wet. He stifled a moan and thrust into her with little warning. She screamed before he could cover her mouth with his sweating hand.
He slammed into her so hard that it was difficult to keep from coming right away. It felt like he was trying to hold back a bursting dam. But when her own pussy began to squeeze him from inside, he couldn't stop himself from collapsing onto her breasts and cursing at his own pleasure against the moist skin of Marita's neck.
When Alex could finally breathe again, he looked up at Marita from the comforting pillow of her breasts. Her breathing was already slow and even, which worried Alex that he may have passed out for a moment on top of her after his orgasm. Her smile was painfully smug. Alex blew out a hard sigh and pushed himself off of her.
"You're just here to distract me."
"Bingo, lover boy," she said in a sarcastic, cold voice. Alex wondered if he had imagined the previous week of timid blushes and weak smiles. She could switch so easily that it frightened him. And it scared him how easily he had eventually fallen for her. But he would never be able to deny himself of her now. It was best to play her game and win it by her rules. He would get the pleasure of the bed and the control. He could not allow her that.