Author's Notes
This is a version of the original story "Captive" by X-Phan, which I read on the Gossamer site. When I finished it, however, I couldn't help but think that there were a lot of different ways this could play out and then couldn't resist writing my own. This is not meant to be plagiarism of X-Phan's story, simply a different take on the same situation that the original author created—much like we borrow CC's characters to play with them.

NOTE: This is the R rated version of this story. The original NC-17 version can be found on my website, link in my profile.

Timeline: Sometime mid-Season 7, alternate universe by the end.

Spoilers: very mild ones for Alpha, Monday, Unruhe, Mind's Eye, Theef, probably more.

The Room
By Suzanne L. Feld
Rated R for adult situations and language

Prologue

Grinning widely, Alex Krycek tossed the note and keys into the room then slammed the door and double-checked the deadbolt, making sure it was secure. He peeled off a pair of latex gloves and stuffed them in his jacket pocket, turning to the two hulking men awaiting him at the top of the stairs. "Be careful not to touch anything without gloves," he told them in Russian as they turned and preceded him down. The metal staircase rang with their footsteps in the huge, echoingly empty warehouse as they went down two flights from the loft. "They shouldn't be able to find their way back here after we let them go, but no use taking chances."

"Da," the taller one agreed as they crossed the empty, oil-stained cement floor to the door. "And if they do find it, Nishka's boys'll get blamed. Their prints are all over the place after that last heist."

All three laughed as they left the old warehouse, Krycek shoving the heavy steel-core door closed with his elbow and giving it a good kick to make sure the latch caught. The three climbed into a nondescript, windowless white panel van which drove out of the graveled parking lot but only a few blocks away, pulled over to a mailbox. One black-clad arm, the hand wearing a glove, poked out the passenger window and dropped a handful of letters into the chute. Laughter drifted back as the van pulled away.