SOMEONE

by Donna McIntosh

Krycek and Skinner indulge in a little cybersex.

Title: SOMEONE

Author: X-FILES

Pairing: Skinner/Krycek

Rating: R

Warnings: None

Complete: Yes

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter. I'm just taking them out for a little fun and games. I promise to return them unharmed.

SOMEONE

Alex Krycek zipped up his pants and splashed water on his face. This is the last time, he swore to himself. He dried off and slipped out the door quietly.

"Call me?" came the voice from the living room couch.

"Yeah, right," he said sarcastically, knowing he wouldn't. He wouldn't have to. They would run into each other again sooner or later; they always did.

He exited the room then down the four flights of stairs and out into the back alley looking carefully to make sure no one was around before he made his way out and to the next block where he had parked his car.

Twenty minutes later he was home in his tiny DC apartment. He took a hot shower and scrubbed until all the scent of Fox Mulder was gone from his nostrils. He dried off and slipped into bed between clean white sheets. He stretched and yawned.

"So much for 'afterglow'" he whispered with a frown. He heaved a sigh and turned on his side. "Afterglow is not for the likes of me!" He scrunched his pillow up under his head.

He closed his eyes and dozed, visions of broad shoulders and a furry chest beneath his cheek; strong arms holding him, whispering sweet things to him. But that was just fantasy; a beautiful dream that would never be his. Walter Skinner was so far out of his reach, he may as well be yearning for a star.

It had been that way from the beginning; Walter Skinner towering over all of the young agents though he wasn't but an inch or so taller than some of them. It wasn't so much his height as his bearing. He was in control; he went by the book and you'd catch holy hell if you tried to go around him. He was an ex-Marine, a good man with not a breath of scandal about him; a spotless reputation. That is, until he came up against the Consortium. But that was long behind him; the incident with the dead prostitute; and it had been proven to be a set up. No one knew about his disposing of that postal worker's body; no one but Spender, Fox Mulder and Alex Krycek.

Alex turned over on his stomach, put the pillow over his head and cursed himself for getting caught up in this mess. He remembered so well his first meeting with Spender and how eager he was to join him and together they were going to save the world. He laughed at his own gullibility.

He was just so young then, he believed everything this man had told him, believed all his reasoning, all his excuses. The death of one man could save a thousand lives; it was all just a mathematical problem he was more than happy to help them with. It never occurred to him that he'd be paying for that death with his very soul.

Every since he had taken that first life; he had been in their control. There was no way out. He did the Consortium's bidding or he'd forfeit his life; another simple mathematical equation.

He was 35 years old and for the last eight years he'd been a puppet for them. They pulled the strings and he jumped; no excuses, no way out, no one to come and rescue him. He was in it up to his neck. There was only one thing he could do and he did it as often as he could. He slipped information to Mulder and Skinner whenever he could do it without it being traceable back to him.

Getting information to Skinner was the easiest. It was always done anonymously. It was almost fun with him. He'd leave a letter lying on the middle of his desk for Skinner to find when he got home from work, or sometimes send it by delivery service. He especially liked going into Skinner's apartment, walking around. One time he'd even gone into his bedroom and found Walter's robe lying at the foot of his bed. He'd put it on and laid down with his head on Walter's pillow. That had been foolish and dangerous. Someone could have come in, Walter might have come home early and there was no escaping out a window when you're on the 17th floor.

Mulder, on the other hand, was a whole different story. He'd follow him and arrange for them to "bump into" each other. He never knew whether it was going to turn into a beating or Mulder looking at him with that "nobody-loves-me-I'm-all-alone-in-the-world" look. The look that told him he could get what he wanted but first he'd have to play Mulder's game. There were some nights when he'd rather take the beating.

He liked Mulder, he really did, but he was just too volatile, too unstable. Mulder had one goal in life and that was to find the answers to his so called 'truths' and nothing and no one was going to stop him. Alex could admire that in a man if it was channeled properly it could be a real asset.

He was like that too about some things; like staying alive for instance; and keeping certain others alive as well. His life was 99 shit but there was that other 1; the times when he got to see or be around Walter Skinner; those times made it all bearable.

He couldn't remember ever not being in awe of the man. From the first moment they were introduced and their hands clasped for just half a moment, Alex knew there was something there. Something he had never felt with anyone else. Whether it was the way Skinner looked, or the way he talked or carried himself, he didn't know. He suspected it was the whole package.

And speaking of packages, he had seen Skinner's; seen naked in the shower once at the bureau gym. He had been given an envelope to deliver to Skinner and was told to give it to him personally and no one else. After being told in his office that Skinner was downstairs in the gym, he had gone on down to make his delivery. The place appeared empty; then he heard the shower running. He walked around the corner of the partition and there he was; standing under the shower, eyes closed as water poured down over his naked body.

Alex had stood there a long time staring at the sight before him. When Skinner moved, Alex darted back behind the partition and quickly went back into the dressing area. The shower turned off and he stepped back by the doorway as Skinner came in with a towel wrapped around his waist. Alex handed him the envelope and got out of there. He made it to the first floor restroom, went into a stall and jacked off. It was one of his fondest memories.

But on this lonely night, memories of working with Walter Skinner were all he was ever going to have and he knew it and the knowing of it gripped him with a sadness he couldn't deny.

With Mulder, it had been so easy. All he had to do was catch Mulder on a night when he knew Scully was out of town. He'd said all kinds of nice things about Scully that he didn't really feel but he knew Mulder wanted to hear. He knew Scully was Mulder's soft spot; his Achilles' heel. He had been able to give Mulder some important information, by very carefully letting it drop "accidentally" in their conversation. But first he had to listen to two hours of Mulder's ranting; nodding in agreement when all he wanted to do was tell him what he was there for and leave.

Mulder had dropped exhausted on the couch beside him and in moments their jeans were off and they were at it. In the beginning, it seemed like a good idea and maybe it was but the bloom soon wore off of that rose. Mulder had grown to hate him, which wasn't all that bad in itself, but it made it harder to accidentally drop any information on him. Mulder was more inclined to swing first; striking out at him, even though he had long since convinced him that it was Cardinal who had killed his father and not him.

It had come down to a game they played. Each knew the other had a reason when they came together; each trying to get or give some kind of information to the other; and then there was the sex. There was no tenderness or sweetness to it at all; no hint at what might be considered a 'relationship'. It was nothing more that a quick fuck. That seemed to be the way they both wanted it. It wasn't much of an arrangement but it worked for them.

Alex got up and went to the refrigerator and took a long drink of cold water. There was no sleep for him. His mind wouldn't shut down. He kept thinking of his wretched situation. Crazy about one man who hated him and sleeping with another man he could barely stand to be around. He often wondered why he helped Mulder with information but it always came back to the same thing. Mulder was Skinner's responsibility. If anything happened to Mulder; Skinner would take it personally. He would do whatever he could to help Mulder and to protect him. It was a perverse sort of reasoning, but it was all he had.

In the eight years that he had been in this mess, he had thought often of just going to Skinner and telling him everything. Maybe he could help him? Maybe he could get him amnesty? Maybe he'd even admire him for all the help he'd given them? Maybe he might even care a little bit about him? Maybe they could be friends? That was a lot of maybes with not a chance in hell of any of them coming true and he knew it.

"What the hell! Maybe I'll just write him a letter and tell him I'm in love with him. I'd love to see the look on his face when he read THAT!" Alex chuckled to himself. He walked over to his computer and sat down, clicking it on. He started out:

"Dear Walter,

I have been admiring you from afar for years now and just thought I'd drop you a line and tell you that I think you are the finest man I have ever known; and probably the only really good man I have ever known.

If circumstances were different, I might even have had the nerve to tell you so in person but that is impossible. I don't even know why I'm writing this letter, I know I'll never send it.

It has been a great pleasure to run into you occasionally over the years and actually exchange a few words now and then. I only wish you could look at me and see the real me; the one who cares so much about you but that was not meant to be. So I will continue to admire you from afar and with this note, you will know that someone out there cares deeply for you.

You needn't worry. I'm not a stalker; I have a life path of my own to follow, one going in the opposite direction of yours. I have no intention of trying to make contact with you.

I was just sitting here alone tonight in front of my computer and got to wondering if you were alone tonight too. I know, it's silly, but with computer access it's just so easy to reach out to someone anonymously.

I won't take up any more of your time,

Someoneincyberspace"

Alex sat back and reread the letter. He swiveled back and forth in his chair and stared at the screen. Without thinking further, he hit "Send".

Across town on the 17th floor of Viva Towers, Walter Skinner stared out his balcony window, glass of scotch in his hand; "another fucking Saturday night!" he muttered and turned back towards his desk. He could remember when Saturday nights meant something. He and his friends getting together and heading to all the local night spots; but that was long ago and at 48 years of age, those days were but a distant memory.

He heaved a sigh and sat down thinking to get a little work done. He often worked in the middle of the night. His head was clearer then and there were no interruptions. It was about the only middle-of-the-night activity he had going on lately.

He turned the computer on and found a message waiting to be picked up. He opened it and began to read.

His first thought was just to delete it but something made him stop and go back and read the letter again. This person wasn't threatening him, wasn't asking anything from him; just wanted to tell him that he was admired.

He got up and walked over to his bar and fixed himself another drink. He stood staring back at his computer. was the return address. He sipped his drink and walked back over to his desk. He sat down and hit the 'reply' tab.

"I just read your letter. Who are you and how do you know me?"

He hit 'send'.

Alex was about to close his computer when he saw he had a message. It was from He swallowed hard and sat back down and opened the message.

He grinned, and leaned back in his chair. So he read it already? What's he doing up at 3:30 on a Saturday night? He thought a long time before he wrote his answer.

"Just an admirer." And hit 'send'.

"We've met? Where?" Skinner wrote back.

"Years ago."

"Where?" he repeated.

"In DC. I'm sure you wouldn't remember."

"Try me."

"It was eight years ago; a brief handshake a nod; that was it."

"So why contact me now?"

"I don't know. I saw you last week and haven't been able to get you off my mind." Alex grinned as he typed, wondering just how far he could take this.

"Where did you see me? Did I see you?"

"Saw you at your desk at the Hoover. No, you didn't see me."

"Why didn't you stop by and say Hi?"

"You were busy."

"You live in the area?"

"Can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Too personal."

"The hell it is! You contact me in the middle of the night and you can't even tell me where you live?"

"I live around in a lot of places. My country of birth is the US."

"You sound military. Is that how we met? Are you in the business?"

"More or less. Actually more less than more."

"Why all the riddles? Can't you just say what you mean?"

"I did in the first letter."

"So you got this thing for me. That's it? That's all you wanted to say?"

"I have a lot more I'd like to say but I can't. I never should have sent that letter. I hadn't intended to when I wrote it."

"What's all this about? What do you want from me?"

"Nothing at all. I'm sorry I bothered you. It was just some middle of the night ramblings."

"So that's it? Hi, I care about you, bye?"

"I guess so."

Skinner got up and walked away from his desk. "What the hell was I thinking. Probably some kid playing with his computer. He knew a lot about me though, that I worked at the Hoover. Hell, anybody who knew he was FBI could figure that one out." He dismissed all thoughts of "Someone" and went to bed.

Alex sat by his computer another hour and gave up and went to bed.

Two weeks later, Alex was in Hong Kong alone in a hotel room. His delivery job done and waiting for a next-day flight back to the states. He thought about Walter and the brief exchange of mail they had two Saturday nights before. He glanced at his watch and with a little calculation realized that it would be about 2am in DC. He picked up the phone and called down to the front desk and ordered a computer to be brought to his room.

Thirty minutes later he sat on the bed with a laptop and typed in: had no idea what he was going to say, but thought he'd give it a try. He had nothing to lose and time on his hands. He typed:

"Hi again,

Just thought I'd say hello from Hong Kong and tell you I've been thinking about you."

Someone."

He grinned as he hit 'send'. He's probably fast asleep or maybe even out with someone getting laid. Alex wished HE was out with someone getting laid. It had been a while; not since he'd been with Mulder two weeks ago. He reached down and gave himself a squeeze. His traitorous cock always came alive when he thought of Mulder; even though the rest of him shuddered at the thought.

His computer came to life with a message.

"So you're in Hong Kong? What are you doing there? Are you a flight attendant?"

"No. I do a lot of traveling but I'd look like hell in one of those mini skirts."

"So I can safely assume that you're male?"

"You can."

"Can you tell me what line of work you are in?"

"Nope."

"So why contact me again then?"

"I was sitting here along in this hotel room thinking how nice it would be if you were here with me."

"Why would I want to be in a hotel room with you? I don't even know who you are?"

"That's a shame because I could make you really happy."

"Not likely."

"We're not talking a lifetime, walk-down-the-aisle commitment here; just a night in a hotel room. I promise you, I could make you scream and beg for more."

"With all these passionate thoughts about me, why haven't you made yourself known to me before?"

"Couldn't. Impossible situation."

"You're married?"

"Nope. Never have been; never will be. I'm not the marrying kind."

"Well I was married for seventeen years before my wife died."

"I know. She was killed in a traffic accident. I was in DC at the time. I also know you were in the process of getting divorced."

"You know an awful lot about me. Why can't I know anything about you?"

"I can tell you everything you need to know about me. I'm 6'1", 165 pounds, dark brown hair and green eyes. I'm lonely; you're lonely, what more do we need to know about each other?"

"Maybe you could tell me exactly what it is you're after here?"

"I'm not after anything but a little conversation with someone I admire."

"So what is it that you so admire about me? My big blue eyes, or my thick wavy hair?"

"I KNEW you had a sense of humor! It's a shame you don't get to use it more. Your hair, what there is of it, is what I think they call salt and pepper; and your eyes are chocolate brown. Your shoulders are broad from all your work outs; your waist is narrow and your stomach flat from your sensible eating habits as well as time spent at the gym."

"OK so you know me. What next?"

"What would you like to have happen next?"

"You started all this; it's your call."

"OK. Why don't you reach down and squeeze yourself for me."

"So that's what this is; cybersex?"

"Better than nothing."

"Just why would you think that I'd be interested in having sex with you; cybersex or otherwise?"

"Because it's Saturday night and you're home alone on the computer when you should be out getting laid."

"How do you know I haven't?"

"Because Madam Soo Lei's been closed for three months now."

There was a long pause before Walter answered that one.

"Is that where we met?"

"No. You and I have never done the deed; except in my imagination."

"Then where the hell DID we meet? You can at least tell me that!"

"We met at the Hoover."

"Shit. I've met thousands of people at the Hoover."

"I know."

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Did you squeeze yourself for me?"

"Why should I?"

"Because you need a squeeze; a little rubbing, maybe some licking."

Walter reached down and squeezed himself. It took him a minute or two before he could let go and type an answer.

"And you're just the one to do that for me?"

"In a New York minute!"

"Well come on over here then and knock on my door. Let's get after it." He hit 'send' and squeezed himself again; full hard now.

"Can't exactly do that now, can I, being as I'm in Hong Kong."

"You really are in Hong Kong? I thought you were just saying that."

"I'm in Hong Kong. I hate this place but have to come here from time to time on business. I'd much rather be there in DC on my knees in front of you."

"You talk a good game, I'll give you that."

"Does it feel good; rubbing it? It'd feel a lot better if I was doing it."

"Maybe."

"I've got seven inches here there would love the feel of your big hands."

"You'd better stop now."

"No way. From what I've heard, and those boys WILL talk if you cross their palms with enough cash, you've got at least nine inches. I've got a nice tight warm place for that."

Walter unzipped his jeans and pulled it out, rubbed it good.

"You make a living doing this? You could!"

"Nope. I couldn't do it with anyone but you. You're the one I dream about, the one I want in my mouth and in my ass."

Walter gasped and worked his hand harder, faster; then typed with his left hand.

"You probably couldn't take me."

"Don't bet the farm on that. First thing I'd do is suck you till you went nuts then drop my jeans and turn around for you. Think you might like that?"

Walter was breathing hard and jacking himself as he typed.

"Uh huh. You'd probably scream and cry though. Kill the mood."

"No way. I like it big and hard and long and you're all three. C'mom, Walter, put it in me."

Walter closed his eyes and came spattering the underside of his desk. Astonished at how quickly he had fallen under this guy's spell. After a few minutes he typed.

"You're one crazy son of a bitch."

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" Alex asked as he wiped his hand on the bed spread.

"Go away!" Walter typed and turned off the computer and went to bed.

Walter spent hours going over everyone he could remember meeting who remotely fit the description that Someone had given him. He came up empty and berated himself for wasting his time. He had better things to spend his time on; more important things. He just couldn't think on any of them wandering around his apartment alone late the next Saturday night.

He sat at his computer and stared at the screen for several minutes at a time; then gave a what-the-hell shrug and typed in: where are you and who are you bull-shitting tonight?" He hit 'send' and waited.

No answer. He got up and walked around the place again. Stopped in the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator. Nothing there interested him. He went to his bar and made a drink. One sip and he put it back down. He really wasn't all that interested in liquor. He sat back down at his desk and opened his brief case. Surely there must be something in there he could be working on.

He just shoved the keyboard back when a message blinked on the screen. Someonefromcyberspace. He closed his briefcase and put it back on the floor and opened his mail.

"Hey, you missed me?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You wrote me first; thought you might be missing me."

"You thought wrong."

"OK. Night."

"So where are you tonight?" Walter wasn't ready to end it so soon.

"Mexico City."

"You really in Mexico?"

"Does it matter where I am?"

"Guess not."

"You had a hard week."

"How would you know?"

"I know everything."

"You think so?"

"I think you got called into Cassidy's office and the bitch chewed your ass out for not keeping a tighter rein on Mulder."

"How the hell would you know that?"

"I have my sources."

"So you know all about my work, Cassidy, Mulder. You seem to know quite a lot about me. How is it I don't know you? Or do I?"

"You do; but you'd rather not."

"Rather not what?"

"Get to know me any better. I know all about your personal preference about not getting involved with someone at the Hoover."

"You work in the Hoover then?"

"No. It's just one of the many things I know about you." Alex recovered.

"You're in the business then? You work for the bureau?"

"Let's just say, we know a lot of the same people."

"Why don't we meet then; I'll buy you a drink somewhere. When are you going to be back in town?"

"Can't do that but I appreciate your asking."

"You're going to have to explain that one to me."

"I'd probably embarrass myself in front of you; fall down on my knees right there in the bar and reach for your zipper."

"I see you have self-control issues."

"Actually, I'm pretty good at self-control. I just wouldn't be able to control myself around you."

"You're a comedian. You write this stuff yourself?"

"Nah. The sad thing about all this is I'm serious. Every word I've written to you I meant. I know; I'm pathetic."

"Lots of people are lonely. That doesn't make them pathetic."

"I am though. I'm up to my eyebrows in trouble and there's no way out. No way but down."

"You need my help? Is that what all this is about?"

"No. I wouldn't ask you for help. I got myself into this mess and I'll get myself out; one of these days."

"What kind of mess; are you in trouble with the law?"

"The people I work for. It turns out they aren't what I thought they were."

"You can't quit?"

"No. These people don't just let you walk away."

"Sounds like some deep shit."

"Up to my eyeballs."

"Must be something you can do."

"Only thing I can do right now is whatever it takes, to survive."

"Doesn't sound like much of a life."

"It's not; but it's all I have."

"Don't you have any family or friends who could help?"

"No. I wouldn't ask them if I did."

"Everyone needs help now and then. There's no shame in asking."

"It's my mess. I'll either get out of it or I won't."

"You need an attorney? I could recommend a few."

"No thanks. Can we change the subject?"

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"My favorite subject; YOU."

"You already know all about me."

"I'd like to know more."

"You can ask. I don't promise I'll answer."

"OK. Is your zipper down?"

"I can see where your mind is."

"You got that right! I'd like for my 'mind' to be right there in your lap taking that zipper down with my teeth."

"You've got a one-track mind!"

"I'll agree to that and the track leads straight to you."

"Sounds pretty boring."

"Uh uh. I'm on my knees in front of you, under your desk. Unzip and feel my hands on you."

Walter unzipped and pulled it out. "This is crazy." He thought but he couldn't deny the excitement.

"Now why would I want to do that?"

"Because it's Saturday so you've got jeans on and I can't do you through your jeans."

"Is there anything about me that you don't know?"

"Um hm; whether you prefer sucking or fucking?"

"I have to make a choice?"

"Nah. You can have both. I hope you like being licked because I could lick that beautiful thing of yours all night long."

Walter stroked himself a little faster.

"What do you like?"

"I usually top but for you I'd bend over and spread 'em any time."

Walter's breath was coming in gasps and he was finding it harder and harder to type.

"Why me?"

"Don't know. I just know you do it for me. Just looking at you or hearing your voice and I'm gone; been that way from day one."

"Doesn't make much sense." Walter typed out with his left hand.

"Hell, I don't care. It's you I think about when I'm jacking off; like now."

"You doing it now?"

"Uh huh. Just like you are. I can close my eyes and imagine it's you in my hand; only if I was there with you, you'd be in my mouth not my hand."

Walter's hand pumped faster.

"You do this a lot?"

"Jack off? Yes. While I'm thinking about you? Always. In cyberspace; never before, only with you."

Walter didn't answer.

"You still there? Are you thinking about being in my mouth?"

"Not doing much thinking at all." Walter struggled to type.

"Good, because I'm almost there. I'm sliding my jeans down now. Come on, get up close behind me. I can feel your hands on my bare hips pulling me closer. Push it in, Walter, all the way in; do it hard now. Fuck me; fuck me!"

Walter lost it then as his eyes read the last few words. His hand flew up and down his shaft until he hunched over and squirted all over his shirt. He pulled the Henley up over his head and wiped himself clean with it. Then he typed.

"You're a wicked man, Someone!"

"Yes I am, and proud of it! Right now, I'm a mess. I need to take a shower and head out for the airport. My flight leaves in little over an hour."

"You heading home?"

"Nope; leaving; New Orleans this time."

"Stay out of trouble."

"That's always my intention."

"I'd like to meet you in person."

"Not a good idea. Oh, and be nice to Miller at Tuesday's budget meeting. He can't help it his only interests in life are paper clips and pencils."

"How'd you know about that? You know Miller? He drives me nuts with all his bull-shit."

"Be nice! Next Saturday?"

"Yeah, if I don't have anything else going; a hot date or something."

"Then it's Saturday night for sure! About 10?"

"Sounds good."

"Gotta go."

Walter turned off the computer and went up stairs and took a shower. He lay on the bed naked staring at the ceiling and wondered for the millionth time just who this Someone was and what kind of trouble he might be in. He also wondered if he would be as good in person as he was on the internet. He's probably some troll, or a pimply faced 16 year old. What the hell; he sure talks a good game. With that his last thought, he drifted off to sleep.

Monday morning brought Mulder to his desk trying to explain why his expenses were ten times that of any other agent. Walter needed something to tell the others at the budget meeting the next day.

Mulder gave evasive answers to all the questions as usual and finished off the meeting pleading for permission to take off on another wild goose chase; this one to New Orleans.

"Mulder, what the hell is in New Orleans? How does that have any bearing on the case you're working on?"

"That's where all the evidence points! I know we'll find the answers there!" He was adamant.

"And if I don't sign this 302? You'll find a way to go anyway?"

"Yes sir!"

Walter signed the 302 and tossed it across his desk to Mulder who grabbed it up and took off out the door. Walter wished he could find an excuse to go to New Orleans but what good would it do. Chances of him finding this Someone were slim to none. And even if he did find him…..He didn't let himself think beyond that point and got back to work.

That evening at home he got to thinking about Mulder being in New Orleans; and Someone in New Orleans. Could Mulder be Mr. Someone? No, couldn't be. He's not in any trouble; no more than usual anyway. He thought about Mulder then and wondered about him. He was so sure he was sleeping with Scully but then there were times when he got definite vibes from him. He's probably bi, Walter thought. But no, it couldn't be him, Someone said he didn't work there. OH SHIT! A terrible thought occurred to him. "I sure hope it's not one of Mulder's three wise men!" He shuddered at the thought.

The next day's budget meeting went off all right. He kept thinking about Someone's comments about Miller and it was true. Miller seemed like a nice enough guy; just probably the most boring human being on the planet counting all his office supplies. Once again he managed to explain to the committee why Mulder's expenses were so high and got away with a promise to reprimand him and insist that he curtail his wastefulness.

Wednesday and Thursday passed as slow as molasses and just as boring. Thursday evening he sat at his computer and willed it to send him a letter. It didn't. He typed one up but thought better of it and erased it and went to bed. He could wait two more days.

Saturday morning came and he got up early and headed for the gym. He finished his workout and stopped at the store on the way home and picked up a few groceries. He checked his mail box and collected his mail on the way up. He fixed himself some lunch and read a little from one of the magazines he'd received in a plain brown envelope. Mostly he looked at the photos. Page 12 looked very interesting. He adjusted himself and read the next article.

Before it knew it, it was dark. He fixed himself some dinner and afterwards sat down at his computer with a glass of wine. Too early, he knew. He checked his email and dumped most of it. He answered a few from some friends of his. After he hit 'send' on the last one, a message popped up for him.

He checked his watch, 9:48. It's early but there it was; He opened it.

"Hi! Miss me?"

Walter grinned and typed back.

"You're early. How was New Orleans."

"Hot and muggy. Shitty city."

"Glad to be home?"

"If you can call this hole I live in 'home'; then I guess, yes."

"You sound tired."

"I am. I heard the budget meeting went well."

"It did. I behaved myself. I sat quietly while Miller droned on."

"Probably drumming your fingers on the table top waiting for your turn to get up and defend Mulder and his spending."

"That's about right. You got a camera in the conference room?"

"Don't have to. I know Miller and I know you. You don't misbehave all that often; unless the situation calls for it."

"An associate of mine just got back from New Orleans. He said the weather was nice down there."

"Yeah, well Mulder likes it hotter than I do. I can't stand all that humidity."

"You knew Mulder was down there?"

"I saw him at the air port."

"Did he see you? Does he know you?"

"Let's not talk about Mulder. He's not my favorite subject."

"I'd ask you what is but I know where that would lead us."

"You don't want to go there?"

"Maybe later. Talk first."

"OK. So you like to talk. That's nice. Most guys just like to fuck and run."

"Tell me something about yourself. I know nothing about you. Where were you born? Where did you grow up? What line of work are you in?"

"I was born in Ohio and grew up there and I guess you could say that I'm in the Security business."

"Is that how you got into trouble? Someone got through some secured place that you were responsible for?"

"Nothing like that; why don't you tell me what it was like growing up on a farm? Did you have lots of animals?"

"Growing up on a farm was wonderful. No, we didn't have animals. That would be a ranch not a farm. Ours was just a small family farm. We didn't grow cash crops; just food for the family. My father worked a job in town and my mother was a stay at home mother."

"I thought all farms had cows and horses and stuff like that?"

"You're thinking of the last century. A lot of our neighbors had milk cows but no beef growers in our area. We had pets, of course, dogs and cats all the time. One year we had chickens but that didn't last long. My sister cried whenever my mom served one up for dinner."

"Having pets sounds wonderful. I always wanted a dog."

"Yeah, dogs are great; so are cats. We always had both."

"You were a lucky little boy. You had two parents a brother and a sister and pets!!! What more could a boy want growing up?"

"Didn't you have any of that?"

"No. I was an only child; my parents died when I was just a kid. I pretty much raised myself."

"That's tough."

"Yeah. But it taught me how to survive."

"Apparently."

"Can we talk about your dick now?"

Walter laughed out loud. Whoever this guy was, he sure had a sense of humor.

"What about it?"

"I'm really having a difficult time trying to decide which I want most. Do I want it in my mouth or in my ass? Which do you think I would enjoy most?"

Walter's breath caught in his throat and he rubbed himself.

"That would be up to you to decide. I could go either way."

"I guess what I want most is to taste you. You never did say; do you like being licked because I sure like licking!"

Walter swallowed hard.

"Uh huh. Who does't?"

"Yeah, you're right about that. I love being licked; especially my nipples. You like nipples?"

"As a matter of fact, I do; a lot!"

"Good. You like yours sucked? I like sucking almost as much as I like being sucked."

"Yeah; me too." His breathing was coming faster and his answers were getting slower.

"We'd be so good together, Walter! I could lick you for hours; drive us both crazy."

"You've already driven me crazy or I wouldn't be sitting here doing this." He slid a hand up under his shirt and pinched a nipple.

"I'm glad. Squeeze it for me now; rub your thumb across the slit. That's where I'd like my tongue to be right now."

Walter's arm worked faster.

"Come on over here then and let's get it on!"

"Nothing would please me more. Right now though I want you to think about me sitting on your lap; lowering myself down on you; you're licking my nipples and I'm fingering yours. Pull my hips down and press yours up. Bury yourself in me. Do it now, Walter, hard!"

He closed his eyes and came and came and came. He didn't think the shuddering would ever stop and he didn't want it to. He finally got his senses back and typed.

"This is crazy! I want to meet you! You name the place; I'll meet you there."

"Can't do it, Walter, as much as I'd love to; it's impossible."

"Hell, nothing's impossible! What's the matter? Are you really just some kid? Or a woman maybe? God, please don't tell me you're a woman! I'll puke!"

"That's funny! You gave me a good laugh there! If you never believe a word I say, believe this: I AM NOT A WOMAN!"

"Good! I want you to think seriously then about setting up a meeting with me."

"Walter; I said this before and I'm saying it again. As much as I'd love being with you in person, we can not meet!"

"Can you explain why?"

"No, I can't. You'll just have to take my word for it."

"I can have this email traced, you know."

"If you have the account traced you will find it is registered to a Swiss Corporation which in turn is owned by several other corporations. The location the messages are coming to you from is different all the time. Some libraries, some schools, some private businesses wherever I can find a place with an internet hook up."

"You cover your tracks pretty well."

"I have to, to survive."

"Do you think you'll be getting out of that mess you're in anytime soon?"

"I doubt it. To be brutally frank with you, I doubt I'll ever get out alive. There's too much at stake here for them to let me go and live. My only way out is in a pine box."

"Maybe I could help. I do have some connections."

"NO FUCKING WAY! Forget that! My mess, my problem."

"I'd like to help if I could."

"Get that out of your head right now! That's not going to happen!"

"So this is all you want? Just the two of us jacking off; miles apart?"

"No, Walter, it's not all I want but it's all there's ever going to be. I never expected it to go this far. It was stupid and thoughtless of me to get this started. I should have left well enough alone but the temptation was too great. I very much wanted you to know how I felt about you and I knew I could never tell you face to face. I've told you now so I think we'd better end this."

Walter sat for several minutes then typed.

"What harm can a few emails be? Sounds to me like you've covered your tracks pretty well."

"You have no idea what these people I work for are capable of. It's too dangerous."

"It's your decision."

"You've been wonderful, Walter. I knew you would be."

"I don't know what to say."

"Maybe we'll run into each other again. I'd like that."

"How will I know it's you?"

"You won't. I will though."

"That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair."

"Hell, I know that."

"Take care, Walter, watch your back."

"You too."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

He sat for a long time staring at the blank screen. Whoever this guy is, he must be in the business. He sure knows how to cover his tracks. Walter got up and went to bed. He lay there disgusted with himself. He should have handled it better. He should have done or said something. He didn't know what. What bothered him the most was the feeling like he'd just been dumped. He didn't like it.

Two weeks passed and each Saturday night he sat in front of his computer, hoping but no messages came.

"What the hell!" he muttered to himself and typed in "Hey, are you getting any?

ws"; and hit send.

He got up and walked around his apartment a few minutes; wondering what the hell he was doing. Some stranger contacts him and next thing he knows they're playing sex games over the internet! He must be crazy! He couldn't get this Someone out of his mind though. He didn't want it to end. He should have said so. Instead he just let him slip away. He cursed himself and went back to his computer. There was a message. He opened it.

"Thought we ended this?"

"You did."

"You still interested?"

"Uh huh."

"Me too. One ground rule though. No more talking about a face to face. Can you live with that?"

"For now."

And so their correspondence began again; a little chit-chat and a lot of sex talk; almost every weekend. This went on for months then suddenly stopped. Walter waited two weekends then wrote a note. It wasn't answered. He tried again the next week with the same results. He was frustrated, angry, and worried. He was also shocked and surprised at himself at how quickly this stranger had become a part of his life. A part he didn't want to give up on. Each Saturday night he'd try sending a message. No answers.

One day he was called into Cassidy's office. They were arguing. He didn't like the new assignment he had been given.

"You want me to go to Tunisia to retrieve Alex Krycek? You've got to be kidding. If he's in jail there, let them keep him."

"He was on an assignment for me and I leave no one behind. Isn't that your Marine motto or something? How would you like it if you got picked up over there and thrown in jail? You'd expect me to send someone to get you out. That's what I'm doing. You're always asking for field work so this assignment is yours."

"Shit," he groused as he left her office and headed out.

He cursed her, his job, his rotten luck and the cab driver who dropped him off at the air field. He cursed the weather, he cursed Alex Krycek, and he cursed Someone for making him care so much then not answering his mail for months. As far as Walter Skinner was concerned when he boarded that plane; life sucked!

He landed in Tunis and was met by his interpreter. They drove the 75 miles out to the prison. The heat was unbearable, the stench as they reached the prison made him gag. And all this to retrieve one rat-bastard Alex Krycek!

The clouds were low overhead and thunder rumbled as they walked through the gate. He hoped for rain on the drive back but figured they'd only get the humidity. It had been his luck lately.

They had difficulty explaining what they wanted to the Warden. He seemed like he couldn't understand anything the interpreter was saying. Finally Skinner pulled the large envelope out of his jacket and showed him the money. The Warden grinned and reached for it. Skinner snatched it back then said "Alex Krycek". The Warden shrugged his shoulders and led them out the back door into the prison yard. There were cages all around the enclosure, filled with pitiful stinking scarecrows that used to be men. He said something to Skinner.

"What did he say?" Skinner asked his interpreter.

"He said 'take your pick'".

Walter walked around looking at the men who were scrambling around their cages, yelling in a language he didn't understand. He heard his name called. It was Krycek; third cage down on the other side. He walked over and took a closer look. Krycek was in a cage with four others; he was filthy; with fresh bruises and a cut that was still bleeding over his right eye. Skinner looked at him with disgust; and just a tiny twinge of pity.

"You looking for me?" Krycek asked and tried not to look too hopeful.

"Yeah. Cassidy sent me." Skinner turned and signaled to the interpreter. They came over and the Warden opened the cage. Krycek stepped out and they returned to the building. Skinner handed the Warden the envelope and they walked out the front door.

They were in the car driving back when Krycek spoke from the back seat where he sat alone. Skinner sat up front with the interpreter.

"Thanks for coming for me, Skinner. I appreciate it."

"If it was up to me, I'd have left you there." Skinner answered.

Nothing more was said until they got back to the little hotel where Skinner had gotten rooms for the night. He unlocked the door to one room and handed Krycek the key.

"There's a bag on the bed with clothes and stuff. I'm right next door if you need anything. We'll be leaving in the morning." With that he left and went to his own room.

Krycek took a long hot shower standing there until the water ran cold. He tossed his old clothes in the trash can and slipped on the new underwear. He walked over to the window and looked out. The rain had started finally. With it came relief from the heat, and a prayer of thanks to God that he was out of that hell hole. He climbed into bed and fell fast asleep.

In the morning Skinner knocked on his door and found Krycek up and ready to leave.

"Well you smell a lot better," he said as they walked down the stairs. They walked down the street to a small café and had breakfast. Walter could barely eat, the oppressive heat and strange odors turned his stomach. He ate some bread and drank what they said was coffee and waited while Krycek cleaned his plate. He eyed the leftovers on Skinner's plate but he didn't ask for them and Skinner didn't offer.

Their interpreter showed up then and drove them to the airport. Skinner produced passports and tickets for both of them and they boarded their flight. Once they were settled Krycek asked.

"Why did Cassidy send you?"

"I guess I'm on her shit list. I've been bugging her for some field work and this must be her idea of a joke. I didn't know the bitch had a sense of humor."

"She doesn't. She probably just wanted to send you on something easy; to keep you safe."

"Ha! That'll be the day!" Skinner laughed.

"At least she didn't send Mulder."

"You got something against Mulder?"

"No. I'm just not in any shape right now to take any of his bull-shit. I think I've got a couple of cracked ribs and my head is killing me. I don't feel like getting slapped around."

Skinner looked at him and saw the pain in his eyes; the stiff way he moved and felt ashamed that he hadn't looked before.

"You didn't say anything about being hurt?"

"You didn't ask."

Skinner got up and spoke with the flight attendant. He came back a few minutes later with a small packet of Tylenol and some bottled water.

"This is the strongest she had. When we stop in France you can see about getting something stronger."

"Thanks." He fumbled with the packet trying to open it. Skinner took it from him and tore it open and dumped two Tylenol out. He took the bottled water and opened it and handed it back to Krycek.

Krycek swallowed the pills down and drank half the bottle without stopping.

"Must have been rough," Skinner said, thinking about those cages and the men in them.

"Yeah. Worst thing was the water. I think it was just rain water from the way it tasted, like it was rusty or oily or something. Not that we got all that much of it."

"How long were you there?"

"Almost three months."

"It took Cassidy long enough to send someone for you."

"Yeah, well it's not all that easy to find someone."

"Someone," the word echoed around in Skinner's head. He wondered where his Someone was; what foreign country he was in. He wondered if he'd ever hear from him again. His mind wandered off; filled with regrets for not trying harder to get him to meet face to face. He should have done something; said something. He hadn't wanted it to end. He had really enjoyed their conversations; he missed them; missed him. Someone had sounded so incredibly sad and lonely. Walter hoped that whatever he was involved in didn't get him killed.

They stopped in France and changed planes. They went into the rest rooms and Skinner noticed Krycek holding his side; obviously in pain.

"Better let me take a look at that." He said walking over to Krycek and lifting his shirt. He winced at the vicious bruises. He felt carefully along the ribs and did think he felt a few that were cracked if not broken.

"C'mon. They must have a nurse's station around here somewhere. We'll see if we can't at least get you a couple of Ace bandages and something stronger than Tylenol."

They left the rest room together and went in the directions of the white cross signs, denoting medical help. They found it and tried to explain to the attendant what they needed. Finally Krycek pulled up his shirt and showed the bruises and the nurse got the picture. She came out with some bandages to wrap him with; a small bottle of pain pills, and a printout in English that said what medical help was provided and that he should see a doctor as soon as he reached his destination.

They boarded the plane for home and got settled in.

"Thank you, Skinner. I appreciate your help." He took the new pills and downed them with bottled water.

"You're welcome."

In minutes they were in the air and on their way home. Krycek leaned his head back and dozed off. Skinner was happy to be back on an American plane, with American food and heading for home. The lunch they had eaten in France left a lot to be desired but he ate it. So did Krycek, he was ravenous.

Skinner felt a little guilty. He should have seen about getting some snacks and maybe some sandwiches or something more for Krycek to eat. No telling what he'd had to eat the last three months. He looked like hell.

Skinner got up and went up to talk with the flight attendants. He showed them his ID and explained that he had just secured Krycek's release from a foreign prison and that he'd been starved and asked if they could some up with any little extra snacks for him.

They were more than happy to oblige. They gave him a double handful of Jello, fruit cups, crackers, pudding, juice and a couple of sandwiches. He thanked them and returned to his seat placing the food in the mesh seat pocket in front of Krycek. When lunch was served, Krycek was asleep. The flight attendant said she would be happy to warm something up for him later when he woke up. She brought a blanket and Walter unfolded it and covered the sleeping Krycek with it, feeling guilty that he hadn't thought to ask for one. As he tucked it in around him, Krycek moaned and mumbled something in French. The flight attendant grimaced and Skinner could see she understood what Krycek had said.

"Do you speak French?" He asked her.

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"He said 'Don't touch me. Please, God, no more!'" She put her hand to her throat and he thought for a moment that she was going to cry.

"He'll be fine once we get him home."

"Thank God you were able to rescue him!" She whispered trying to keep their conversation private; then hurried on down the aisle.

After lunch, Skinner dozed off himself. It had been an exhausting few days and he would think twice before he asked Cassidy for another field assignment or at least, be a bit more specific about what kind of assignment he wanted.

When he woke up, Skinner went to use the rest room. He was just finishing up and washing his hands when he overheard a conversation between two flight attendants who were talking just outside the tiny restroom.

"Did you see him; the guy in 26window?"

"Oh you mean Sleeping Beauty. Yeah. He's something else, isn't he?"

"Did you hear that guy with him, the big guy, is FBI and rescued him?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind being rescued by him!"

"Oh, Linda, you're terrible!"

"Oh I know you, Barbara, you always go for the hurt and lost puppy kind of guy. But for me, I'd take the big guy any day."

"Well, he's not bad, I mean I'd do him, but the other one; God! Did you see those eye lashes? I'd kill for eye lashes like that!"

"Uh huh and the green eyes? Don't think I've ever seen eyes that shade of green. I'm going to see if I can get some contacts that shade."

"I wonder if he's available?"

"Since when does that matter to you? Besides, he'll probably be in the hospital for weeks once he gets back to DC."

"Yeah, you're probably right. How tall do you think he is? He's got nice long legs. Bet he's at least six foot."

"I was up front when he came in and I'd say he's a little over six foot. Maybe six one or six two. He's a little taller than my boyfriend and he's six foot."

"Wow. Six foot, dark brown hair, green eyes, and he's rescued by the FBI? This guy should write a book!"

"Man, I'd love to be the one taking care of him; giving him sponge baths for the next few weeks!"

"OK. You can have the gimp; the big guy's mine!" They giggled and were off about their duties.

Walter exited the restroom, looking up and down the aisle trying to spot the two who were talking but they were no where to be seen. He made his way back to his seat, stopping to take a good look at Krycek before he sat down.

The sleeping face was at ease and showed none of the trauma it had experienced, with the exception of the small bandage on his forehead. Walter sat down beside him and decided to try and sleep some more. He closed his eyes and the flight attendants conversation kept coming back to him, "six foot one or two, dark hair, green eyes."

He wasn't quite sure where he was but it didn't matter. He was going to meet Someone and he hurried on his way; down the long corridor passing door after door until he came to the room at the end. He opened it and went in and grabbed him in his arms. They kissed passionately as they undressed each other and were nude by the time they fell onto the bed breathless with lust. In an instant, he saw the face beneath him. It was Alex Krycek.

He came awake with a start and a raging hard-on. He could feel the landing gear being lowered and he knew they were approaching the air port. He put his seat up-right and noticed Krycek awake beside him, eating a fruit cup.

"You OK?" he asked Krycek.

"Uh huh. Did you ask the flight attendants for these?" He pointed at the remaining snacks.

"Yeah. I figured you'd be hungry." He fastened his seat belt when the sign came on. Krycek did the same.

"Thanks." He finished up his snack and pocketed the extras.

They deplaned with no problems, Mulder was waiting for them.

"Oh shit," Krycek mumbled when he spotted him.

"Cassidy probably sent him to drive us home."

"I'm outta here. Thanks for everything, Walter."

And before Skinner could do anything to stop him, Alex was off into the crowd and out of sight.

"Skinner! Over here," Mulder called to him as he made his way through a group of people heading in the opposite direction. "Who you looking for?" he asked as he noticed Skinner straining to see.

"Huh? Oh nobody. Thought I saw someone I knew."

"Did you have a nice flight? What were you doing in France?" Mulder asked.

"Contrary to what you may believe, Mulder, everything that goes on at the bureau does not concern you." Skinner shouldered his carry-on as they headed out through the parking lot; his eyes darting back and forth looking for Krycek.

"What does he look like? I can help you look for him?" Mulder said, as eager as a kid to join in the hunt.

"It wasn't him; just somebody who looked like an old acquaintance of mine. Where'd you park?"

"Right over here," Mulder pointed to his car.

"You're not going to tell me why you were in France?" Mulder continued as they drove.

"Let's see, you packed light so you've only been gone a few days. Must have been a delivery or retrieval; must have been pretty important for Cassidy to send an AD. Am I getting warmer?"

"I'm tired Mulder. Can you just drive and let me rest?"

"I thought you told me once that you didn't get jet-lag?" Mulder chatted on. "Now Krycek; he gets serious jet-lag. If I can ever catch him coming off a plane I know I can knock some information out of him. All his defenses are down then. It's about the only time you can catch him off guard; vulnerable."

"Why are we talking about Krycek?"

"We're not. We're talking about jet-lag and whatever it was you were doing in France."

"No we weren't. YOU were. I just want to get home, take a nice hot shower and sleep in my own bed tonight. And I'd like to do that with as little conversation between now and then as possible if that's all right with you."

Mulder kept his mouth shut and drove the rest of the way to Crystal City in silence; mumbling only a "Good night, sir," as Skinner climbed wearily out and headed into his building.

Skinner slept in the next morning; glad that it was Saturday and he would have the weekend to recuperate. He followed his usual routine, a workout at the gym, a stop at the grocery store, then back home to pick up his mail and head upstairs for a leisurely afternoon.

After flipping through the mail and tossing the junk; he put away his groceries and sat down at his desk and let his mind wander over the events of the last few days. He had done his job; he had gotten Krycek out of Tunisia and gotten him back home but he had lost him at the airport. Cassidy wasn't at all surprised when he reported in and seemed pleased that he had completed his assignment and only asked for his report to be delivered to her personally when he had it ready and not to send it by messenger.

He opened his computer and logged on. There was a message from Someone! He clicked on it and opened it.

"Just found your messages. Thought I'd let you know that I'm still alive and well. Been pretty busy lately. You doing all right?"

"Didn't think I was going to hear from you again," Walter typed back.

"Well, I debated long and hard over it."

"You debated 'long and hard'? Is there supposed to be some underlying message there?"

"Now who's the comedian? Yeah, I guess you're right again. When I think about you I always think about 'long and hard'"

"I'd sure like to give it to you!"

"Let's go then. Unzip."

"No chance at all we can do this in person?"

"None."

"Not even open for debate? I can be very discrete. We could meet anywhere you want."

No answer came for several minutes. Skinner cursed himself for pushing.

"Just got a phone call. I have to go to work. Next Saturday?"

"Yes! Be careful."

"I always am. That's the only way I've been able to survive. Bye."

"Bye."

Walter sighed and closed his computer. He fixed himself a drink and sat on the couch and wondered; who the devil this Someone could be? Six one, brown hair, green eyes and he knows me. The dream he'd had on the plane came back to him and the face of Alex Krycek came to mind. He choked on his drink and sat upright! NO! No way! Couldn't be him. That description must fit a thousand different men in DC alone. There was no way it could be Krycek! Besides, Someone was going to work and Krycek was in no shape to be working. Couldn't be him.

He leaned back and put his feet up on the coffee table and thought about how much Sharon always hated it when he did that. He'd have to see to it that he did this more often he thought with his hands laced together behind his head.

He thought about Someone and hoped whatever job he was doing he was careful. He figured it was something illegal and didn't want to know what it was. Then he thought about Krycek. He figured he was probably in a hospital somewhere and wondered once again why Cassidy was using him. Hell, everyone knows he's dirty!

Someone's description came back to him again; six foot one, dark hair, green eyes; and the memory of that flight attendant conversation; six foot, dark hair, green eyes. No way it could be the same person. He started remembering what Someone had said about himself. 35 years old, born in Ohio, parents died when he was a child.

He could settle this right now. He got up and went back to his computer. He got into the bureau files and typed in Krycek's name. His file came up, Skinner opened it and read.

Born – he did some quick calculations – 35 years ago; Springfield, Ohio; orphaned at age 8. NO WAY! NO GOD DAMNED FUCKING WAY!!!!! Skinner stood up and paced the room. He grabbed his drink and gulped the rest of it down. Someone is NOT Krycek! Shit, shit, shit!!!

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his friend's number. He answered on the third ring.

"You got me. Say something."

"Tommy! I'm so glad you answered. I need to talk to you. Right now!"

"Shit! Ok Ok." Then off to the side he said, "Honey, you need to take off. I've got important business here."

"I'm sorry, Tommy. You should have said you had company."

"She wasn't company, she was business and it's taken care of. Not a problem. Your place or mine?"

"Yours. I'm on my way out the door. That'll give you time to get rid of her."

"She's almost dressed now. She'll be gone by the time you get here."

"See you in 15."

"OK."

Fifteen minutes later Skinner pulled up into the secured parking area in his friend's building. Tommy met him when the elevator doors opened to his private suite.

"Hey, Walt, everything all right?" They exchanged a quick hug.

"Yeah, I think so. I just need your advice on something."

"Well, come on in. You hungry? I could order us up a late dinner?"

"No thanks. Just talk."

They walked into the sumptuous penthouse apartment.

"Drink?" Tommy offered.

"No. I already had a couple. I need a clear head to figure things out."

"OK. How can I help?"

"I know this is going to sound juvenile but I met someone on line and I'm crazy about him."

"Is that what this is all about?" Tommy's face broke into a big smile. "You had me scared there for a while."

"This is serious, Tommy."

"OK. I'm with you. I've had a few on-line relationships myself. So what's the problem?"

"I want to meet him and he doesn't want to meet me."

"Well that tells you something right there. He's either married, or he's a geek."

"He's not married; he swore to me he wasn't"

"He could be underage; some High School kid playing with his computer."

"No. He's no kid. He's told me a lot about himself; and the thing is, Tommy, I might know him."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Bad."

"Well if you think you know who it is, and it's not someone you want to go any further with, why don't you just end it?"

"Because I don't want to. This guy, whoever he is, he just calls himself 'Someone' and he's in trouble."

"You think that might be why he contacted you? So you could help him?"

"I already offered to help. He refused. He says the only way out of his trouble is in a pine box."

"Sounds to me like this guy is running a line on you. How sure are you that you know him?"

"Not sure at all. In fact, I hope and pray that it's not him."

"What makes you think it's this guy that you don't want it to be?"

"This guy, Someone, knows an awful lot about me, my work, the people I work for. He says we've met, shook hands, talked. He knows about Mulder, Scully, Cassidy; he knows about the Budget meetings. He knows my personal habits, that I go to the gym, that I drink Scotch, that I grew up on a farm. He knows me better than I know myself."

"That information would be available to about anyone who did a background on you. What about this other guy; the guy you don't want it to be?"

"Krycek? He worked for the bureau for a time then left to work for the other side."

"He turned?"

"Yeah."

"What makes you think it's him?"

"Same physical description, same age, same background, from the same state, orphaned as a child."

"And if he was with the bureau, he'd have the knowledge to find out anything he wanted to about you. You think he's trying to get you to give him an out?"

"No, I don't. Someone's never asked me for anything; and he's refused all offers of help."

"So what's the dilemma? What are you trying to decide?"

"Do you think I should confront Krycek; ask him straight out if he's Someone?"

"You're in contact with Krycek? I thought he turned?"

"He did but I run into him from time to time."

"So how bad did he turn? Is he taking bribes? Joined the Mafia? What?"

"You won't want to hear this, Tommy." Walter sighed and walked over to the window and stared out over the rooftops of the city.

"Spit it out, Walt, then we can deal with it."

"Krycek works for the Consortium."

"OH SHIT! WALTER!! You did NOT just say that you are crazy about some guy who works for the Consortium! Tell me I'm hearing things!"

"Krycek IS Consortium. If Someone is Krycek, then I'm in deep shit!"

"Oh Christ, Walter! What are you going to do?"

"I haven't a clue! That's why I came to you for advice. What do you think I should do?"

"When was the last time you saw this Krycek?"

"Yesterday."

"Yesterday? Did you pick up on anything? Did he drop any clues?"

"No. He was hurt pretty bad."

"By you?"

"No. He was my field assignment. I'd been after Cassidy for months for a field assignment and she finally came through with one for me. I had to go to Tunis to buy Krycek's way out of prison. We got back yesterday. He has some cracked ribs and he's half starved to death. They had him for three months."

"Did you hear from your Someone during that time?"

"No. Not a word."

"He said nothing to you on the flight back that might give you a clue?"

"Nothing. He slept most of the way."

"If you want my honest opinion here, I'd say dump this Someone and do it fast."

"I don't want to do that, Tommy."

"How long have the two of you been talking?"

"Almost eight months; then the last three months, nothing."

"So you haven't heard from this Someone for three months?"

"I heard from him tonight. We only talked a few minutes then he got a call and said he had to go to work."

"Saturday night and he has to go to work? Did he say what kind of work he does?"

"He said he's in security."

"I'll bet!"

"Tommy, I need your help here!"

"Walt, I don't know what to tell you. If you think it's this Krycek, then I think you should just ask him but be prepared to deal with it if it turns out to be him."

"I think that's what I'm afraid of; what I'll do if it is him?"

"You can't just walk away?"

"No. I don't know what there is about the guy but he really got to me, Tommy. I care a hell of a lot more for him than I know I should. I can't walk away. I don't want to."

"Then you'd better prepare yourself for what you're going to do if you find out he's Consortium."

"I think that word scares me more than any other word in the English language." Walter sat back down on the couch and leaned back. "What the hell am I going to do, Tommy?"

"I don't know, Walt. But whatever decision you make, I'm behind you 1000 ; you know that."

"Yeah, I do and I appreciate that more than I can say."

They talked a little bit more then Walter left; home to his empty apartment. He started up the stairs, then came back down and sat at his desk. He flipped his computer on; there was a message from Someone.

"Hi! I'm back. I finished up early. Are you still around or did you have a hot late night date?"

Walter grinned and typed in his answer.

"No late night date. Just conversation with an old friend."

"How old?"

"Same age as I am."

"That old?"

"Watch it there, you wouldn't want to hurt this old guy's feelings now would you?"

"Not in a million years!"

"What would you like to do? If you were free of all your entanglements? What would you be doing? What's your idea of a perfect evening?"

"Oh good! Easy questions that I can answer. First of all, what I'd be doing if I was free. I'd find myself a little house way out in the country, miles from any city. It would have to have a fireplace because that's part of a perfect evening as far as I'm concerned. I'd have a fire going; I'd cook you a great dinner (yes, I can cook!), then we'd sit in front of the fire and I'd pour you a drink of your favorite Scotch and give you a backrub until you relaxed. Then I'd listen to you tell me about your day while I gazed at you adoringly and rubbed your feet. By then you will have finished talking and set your glass down and relaxed. I'd unzip your jeans and pull them down and bury my face in your lap. Does any of this sound like something you might be interested in?"

"Definitely. I just wish I could get you to agree to meet me. We could make that perfect evening come true."

"We've already met and you showed no interest in me at all. At least, on line, I can tell you how I feel. If we met, I'd never get the chance."

"I'm a pretty nice guy; why wouldn't I give you a chance?"

"Because you know me and you hate me."

It's Krycek! It had to be! Walter stood up from his desk and walked around the room. What the hell am I going to do now? He thought. Tommy was right. I should have prepared myself for this. He sat back down and typed.

"I must have had my reasons for hating you; maybe they're no longer valid."

"We don't seem to be going anywhere with this tonight. I'm pretty tired so I think I'll sign off. I will say this though. There is too much between us, Walter, more than you could ever forgive. The on-line thing is fun; I'd like to continue but we can't meet in person. I'm going out of town next weekend so I don't know if I'll be able to contact you or not. I will if I can and you can decide by then if you want to continue or if you think it's best to end it.

I think it's best to end it. I've tried to do just that; but I can't. I don't want to. It's the only contact I'll ever have with you and I don't want to give it up. It lets me pretend for just a little while that someone actually cares about me. I know its all make-believe but it's all I have; all I'll ever have. I'm not strong enough to break it off. If you want to end it then you'll have to do it. Just don't open any more of my messages. But until that time, I'll go on living my dream, pretending that you're mine and we're together somewhere out there in that little house in the country sitting in front of the fireplace.

Good night"

Walter typed in "Good night" and turned off his computer and went up stairs to bed. He couldn't think anymore. Wouldn't let himself think. It's Krycek, it has to be. The thought tortured him. How could it be? Wasn't the animosity between them a mutual thing?

He tried to think back and remember every conversation between them and came up with even more questions. Was it possible that Krycek could have been tricked into joining the Consortium? But it's been years; why hasn't he gotten out? "The only way out of this job is in a pine box." The memory of those words sent chills through him.

What kind of man was this Alex Krycek anyway? What could the Consortium have offered that young agent to turn him? And why was Cassidy using him from time to time? None of it made any sense. None of it! He finally drifted off to sleep; unanswered questions filled his head.

"Where the hell have you been?" Mulder pouted.

"Off yachting with the Kennedy's; what's it to you?" Krycek answered.

"I need some information."

"Dial 4ll"

"Not that kind of information."

"I'm not here to play answer man."

"Well, I don't drop my drawers until I get what I want. Did you find out why Skinner went to France?"

"All I could come up with was it was a retrieval job. He picked something up. What about Cooper?"

"The bureau has nothing on him. If he's dirty, he's hiding it well." Mulder answered and walked over to his couch and slipped his jeans off.

"Not tonight, Mulder"

"What do you mean; not tonight? We each get what we want; that was the agreement, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but I'm not feeling all that well tonight. I got a couple of cracked ribs. I just want to get back to my place and go to bed."

"I've got a bed. You could sleep here."

"No thanks," he turned to the door.

Mulder crossed the room in nothing but his black bikini underwear and stopped him.

"Sure you don't want to stay? Even for just a little while?" He slid his hand inside his underwear and rubbed himself hard.

"I got a plane to catch in the morning. I need to go home and take some pain pills and get some sleep."

"I could make the pain go away," Mulder said and reached for Krycek's crotch. He stepped back to avoid contact.

"I think we've played that game as far as it's going to play. We can still exchange information but it'd be best done over the phone."

"You say that now, but once you're feeling better, you'll come back. You know you will because you like what I've got." Mulder ran a hand down Krycek's chest.

Krycek pulled the door opened, checked the hallway out, and left. He took the back stairs down to the alleyway and peered out into the night. The coast was clear. He sprinted down the alley to the next block; the cold night air finally making his hard-on relax. He hated how his cock responded to Mulder. It wanted him; he didn't.

Skinner called Tommy the next morning.

"I heard from him again."

"Someone or K?"

"Someone and I'm now about 90 sure it's K."

"You going to confront him?"

"If I get the chance. I've got no way to contact him."

"K, you mean? Why not do it with Someone?"

"I need to do it face to face and I can't get Someone to agree to meet me."

"Well it's your move to make, Walter. Just be careful. If you want to use my place to meet, that's fine with me."

"Thanks Tommy. If you have some extra time, you might do some digging on K for me."

"I thought you might ask that. I've already cleared my morning. I'll get after it and see what I can come up with. Call you later."

"Thanks Tommy."

He closed his cell phone and got back to work.

That evening at home, Skinner got the call.

"Did you find out anything?"

"Yeah, K gets a check deposited into his account every month from an account known to be the company we discussed earlier; so we know he works for them and has for years."

"I know that."

"He also gets checks 3 or 4 times a year from an account that belongs to your boss."

"So what you're saying is he's working both sides?"

"It pretty much looks like it. Now, I've got something else for you. I checked him out, all the way back to the day he was born. His parents were immigrants and fiercely loyal to this country. They were murdered by escaped convicts who broke into their home. They're buried in his home town and flowers are delivered to their graves once a month; paid for out of one of Ks accounts. He grew up in a boy's home there and sends them money every month too.

He was abused in a foster home. There was a big trial and he testified in open court. He was sent back to the boy's home and ran away at age 13. He made his way to New York and started working there at burger joints around town. He's taken every martial arts course available in his area, did excellent in school and went right into the local police academy. From there, he was recruited by old JC herself into the company you work for.

I didn't know JC did any recruiting?"

"Neither did I. Are you sure?"

"That's what the paperwork says under recruiting officer."

"That's strange."

"It sure is. From a quick profile that I come up with, I'd say this is a good guy. Any possibility he's just on the QT with that group?"

"Could be, I guess. I would have bet my last dollar that he was dirty."

"He still could be. With that company you never can tell what you're dealing with. I've checked out the photos though and I can certainly see why you're interested."

"Shit, Tommy. I'm not even sure who it is I'm interested in! That's what's so frustrating about all this. I don't even know Someone's name."

"If it is K, you'd better be careful. This guy could go either way. He could be a mass murderer or a priest with all that's happened to him. From what I've read, his life sounds like a movie of the week."

"What do I do, Tommy? How do I give this movie a happy ending?"

"Wish I could help you there, Walter, but I'm afraid it's all in your hands. I'm here if you need me; that's about all I can do for you."

"Thanks, Tommy. I owe you."

"Yes you do! And I'm going to collect one of these days. How about another double date with the twins?"

"No thank you! You can handle the two of them by yourself. Besides; I've got other things on my mind right now."

"Yeah, OK. Actually I'm headed to London in a few days myself. Give me a call if I can do anything else for you."

"Will do, Tommy. Have fun in London."

"Oh I will, you can count on that. See you."

"See you."

Walter waited by his computer every night hoping for a message but none came. Saturday came and he didn't even leave his apartment. He kept the computer on all day and paced the floor waiting. 10, 11 o'clock passed and no messages. 11:30 someone knocked on the door.

He looked out the peep hole to see Krycek standing there. He opened the door and Krycek walked in; surly expression and hands jammed into his leather jacket pockets.

"I have a message from the old man," Krycek said.

Walter closed the door and leaned back against it crossing his arms.

"And that would be?"

"He wants you to get Mulder back on the X-Files."

"How am I supposed to do that? Doggett runs the X-File unit now."

"Hell, I don't know, Walt---Skinner. Just do it."

"I'll think about it. Right now I have a few questions I need the answers to and you're the only one who can answer them."

"I don't answer questions," he reached for the door knob but Skinner didn't budge.

"Are you Someone?" Skinner asked, watching Krycek's eyes closely for any reaction.

"Am I someone? What the hell kind of question is that?" He covered quickly.

"I need to know. If it's true, I'll try and help you."

"Help me what? Skinner you're talking in riddles!" He looked away, not able to keep eye contact. Skinner picked up on it.

"Tell me, Alex. Please, I need to know."

Krycek scowled and tried for the door.

"You're not leaving here until you answer me."

"I don't know what the question is? Am I somebody? Isn't everybody somebody? Look, I need to go." He tried to grip the door knob again but Skinner held it tight.

"How are the ribs?" Skinner was finding it hard to breathe with Krycek so close.

"The ribs are fine. Please, can I go now?"

They stared eye to eye and contact was made. Walter's hand came up and caressed the side of Alex's cheek; he flinched from the touch.

"It's all right. We'll figure a way out of this." Walter spoke barely above a whisper.

"No! You're not getting involved!" He tried to get Walter's hand off the knob again.

"I'm already involved. Let me help."

"NO!" He made the mistake of looking up then; they were only inches apart.

Walter brought their mouths together in a short sweet kiss and whispered, "Yes!"

He pulled Alex into his arms then and the passion ignited between them.

"No, No, We can't do this!" Alex pulled back.

"Too late. We've already done it." He kissed the side of Alex's neck and wound a strong arm around his waist and urged him towards the stairs.

"This is crazy, we can't let this happen," Alex was babbling as Walter kissed him up the stairs and backed him into his bedroom.

Walter slid the leather jacket off Alex and tossed it on the chair; his Henley followed then Alex's shirt. Jeans came next; slowly unzipped while shoes were stepped out of then tossed towards the chair. They came together then in a breathless desperate urge to meld two bodies into one. All their passion, all their lust, everything that they were came together and became one insatiable flame of desire.

Afterwards they lay exhausted, arms and legs still wrapped around each other, floating in the sweet after glow.

When he could speak, Walter whispered against the top of Alex's head that was lying against his chest, "I'll find us a place. So far away from here, no one will ever find us."

Alex leaned up and stared sadly down into Walter's face. "There's no place on this earth that he couldn't find me."

"Well maybe it's time to take the old bastard out then." Walter surprised even himself with that statement.

"I've certainly thought about that but he's got damning evidence against both of us. If it fell into the wrong hands; we'd be no better off."

"We'll think of something; come up with a plan. Any idea where he keeps this evidence?"

"Could be any where in the world. He has contacts all over."

"Well I have contacts too." Walter said and sat up, leaning back against the headboard.

"We'll work at this from both directions. I'll find us a place and get it secure and we can both do what ever we can to find out where this evidence might be."

"It'd be like looking for a needle in a hay stack."

"Needles have been found in hay stacks before. We just got to figure it out; maybe trace his movements. Do you have any way of doing that?"

"He flies around in a private jet. I guess we could check flight plans; but he travels all the time; there would be hundreds of trails to follow."

"Try following the ones right after you did whatever it was that he has on you; and for the week after I got rid of that postal worker's body for him. That will give us a starting point at least."

"A very good starting point. I never thought of that angle."

"You were too busy trying to stay alive. You need to keep on doing whatever you've been doing to keep him happy. Don't do anything suspicious that might draw attention to yourself."

"I'll be careful. If we decide to take the old man out, I want to do it. I don't want you to have any part in it. That's my job! No negotiating on that point."

"We'll come up with something. Maybe it won't be necessary to go that far. Maybe we can get him jailed for something."

"He has lawyers by the dozens, he'd get off."

"Then if we go that route, we'll have to come up with fail-proof evidence; even if we have to create it ourselves."

"I had no idea you were so devious, AD Skinner." Alex smiled at him.

"You know a hell of a lot about me, Alex, but you don't know everything."

"Apparently not." He stood and started dressing.

"Do you have to leave?" Walter pulled his jeans on.

"Yeah. I've got another stop to make; just some information to deliver." He slipped his shoes on and reached for his jacket.

"I guess it's pointless for me to tell you to be careful." Walter stood by the front door with him.

"I never meant for this to happen, Walter. I never expected you to find out who I was. I never would have exposed you to this danger."

"It doesn't matter, Alex. I've been exposed to that son of a bitch for years now. I don't think I'm in any immediate danger."

"Just be careful and whoever your contacts are, make sure they don't leave any ripples while they're snooping around."

"Got it covered." He pulled Alex into his arms and kissed him several times. They were breathless when they separated.

"I've got to leave, Walter."

"I know. I just don't want to let you go."

"I'll send you a message; Someone will, OK?"

"I'll be waiting and I want to get together soon. Whenever you think it's safe. It doesn't matter where. I'll fly anywhere in the world to spend some time alone with you."

"Keep an eye on your computer." Alex said and opened the door and looked cautiously up and down the hallway.

"I will."

Alex slipped out into the hallway and he was gone.

"I think we should just take the bastard out," Bruce the NYPD detective commented as the six ex Marines sat around and discussed Walter's situation.

"Only as a last resort," the General said.

"Can't the two of you just slip away? We ought to be able to find you a place and make it secure." Doctor Tony Green offered.

"I'm working on that," Tommy said.

"You have any luck finding a place?" Walter asked.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm flying out tomorrow to take a look at a place. It's the best prospect so far. If it's the one, we'll get the General to work on it."

"We need to find where the old man's stashing his evidence." Bruce insisted, "That's the only way they can be sure he won't come after them."

"He'll probably still go after them," Chuck, the Texas Ranger put in his two cents. "This group doesn't like to leave any loose ends and Walter and Alex would be just that."

"If they're out in the middle of nowhere, he'd never find them." Tony reasoned.

"If Alex and I take off, he'd never stop looking until he found us. I don't think Alex would leave until he was sure the old man couldn't come after us."

"What would be the point? I mean, if you retire, you'd be of no more use to them; you'd lose your access so what would be the point of coming after you?" Tony asked.

"To send a message to anyone else who tried to leave the group. You don't leave the Consortium." Bruce answered.

"When did you last hear from Alex?" Chuck asked.

"Eleven days ago. He was in Switzerland." Walter answered.

"Did you try and talk to Cassidy? I think we should follow that angle. She knows something about Alex; she wouldn't be using a known Consortium operative to do her bidding if she didn't have an angle." The General said.

"No," Walter answered, "I haven't talked to her about it. I've only discussed this with you guys; I don't trust anyone else."

"You don't trust Cassidy?" Tommy asked.

"I trust her about a lot of things, but I'm not willing to trust her with Alex's life."

"Good! Don't," commented Bruce.

"Walt, I've got the best idea yet! Why don't you just come over to the house some time and I'll introduce you to my wife's cousin Lydia. She's really beautiful and the two of you would be perfect together!" Tony smiled.

"Nice try, Tony, but that's not gonna work; you know Walt's a fairy." Bruce jibed.

"A fairy? Me? Who's the one who showed up at our last camping trip with a blue sequined dick bag in his back pack?" Walter shook a finger at his old friend.

Everyone roared with laughter at the memory.

"Now I told you, Sonia just put that in there as a joke!" A red-faced Bruce defended himself.

"Well, it worked! We're laughing!" The General howled with laughter along with the others.

"Swear you never had that thing on, go on, swear! You can't do it can you?" Chuck teased.

"Well, now I didn't say that! Anyway, how did we get sidetracked talking about me; it's Walter we're here to talk about." Bruce recovered.

"Well, Gentlemen, I think we've covered about all we can for tonight and I need to get my beauty sleep. Tommy, you let us know the minute you find a place and I'll get the security going; I'll start rounding up some supplies. Walter you hang tight and don't do anything foolish; don't draw attention to yourself; don't change your usual routine. I'll be in touch tomorrow after I speak with my contact." The General stood and dismissed his men.

Walter went home and turned his computer on; no messages. He went upstairs, took a shower and got ready for bed; then came back downstairs and checked for messages again. This time there was one. He opened it.

"Hi! Did something special happen a week or so ago or was I dreaming?"

"Both. It happened and it was a dream; a dream come true."

"I tried to stay away from you but I got in a bind time-wise that night and had to deliver that message personally. I should have known I couldn't keep it from you any longer."

"No more need for secrets."

"There's always a need for secrecy."

"Not between us."

"Walter, there are so many things you don't know; are you sure you want to get involved with me?"

"POSITIVE!"

"So what have you been up to lately? Any luck on our mutual quest?"

"A little. We might have a place. A friend of mine is going to check it out tomorrow. If he likes it, we'll start on getting it secured; first thing."

"Where is this place?"

"Don't know the details yet. I'll let you know as soon as I find out anything for sure. Have you had any luck on your end?"

"Not really. Got some ideas but haven't had time to check them all out yet. I've been pretty busy."

"I've got something working on that side of things too. I expect to hear back in the next day or so."

"Be careful, Walter, remember no ripples."

"Don't worry. This is a personal friend and he knows his business."

"Do you have plans for the weekend?"

"No, just the usual; pacing the floor waiting for a message from you. Why?"

"Maybe you should go away for the weekend – maybe up to your cabin?"

"You serious? You know about my cabin?"

"Blue and white checked curtains in the kitchen windows; blue, white, and red quilt on the bed; braided rug in front of the fireplace. That your place?"

"When? How soon can you get there? How about tonight?"

"No; not tonight; I'm exhausted; just got off a plane from Rome. I need some serious sleep time. The old man's in Chicago till Tuesday or Wednesday so my weekend is free. Is tomorrow night OK? I'll probably sleep most of the day. You could join me there after work?"

"I could leave right now but you're right. You need to sleep and I do have a 10:00 meeting tomorrow with Powers. I could take off after that without raising anyone's curiosity."

"Sounds great; can't wait to see you. I'll leave as soon as I wake up. Don't let Powers seduce you now. She's had her eye on you every since she made AD!"

"Powers? Not my type."

"You sure about that? A female was your type for many years."

"We can talk about that tomorrow. Tonight I just want you to get some rest; sleep all you can because you probably won't be getting much the next few days."

"I'm looking forward to that! See you tomorrow."

"Sleep well."

Skinner arrived at work early the next morning; his overnight bag packed and ready in his trunk. He sat at his desk fiddling with a pencil and making a list of things he wanted to pick up at the store for the weekend.

Powers showed up exactly on time. Their meeting dragged on longer than was necessary; he had to be almost rude to get rid of her. Finally she was gone and he was on his way.

Skinner drove the 77 miles in breathless excitement; he could hardly wait to get there. He climbed out of his SUV and unloaded everything. He got a fire started in the fireplace, got the place all warmed up and ready.

Hour after hour after hour passed and no Alex. By 8pm he began to really worry. He got out his lap top and got on line; no messages. He typed one for Someone.

"Hey, I'm waiting. Where are you?"

The clock ticked, the fire burned down to embers; the stew he'd made sat cold on the stove. No Alex.

It was closing in on mid-night when he began to panic. Where the hell could he be? Alex didn't even have a cell number he could call; he had no idea where Alex lived, no idea how to get in touch with him. The internet had been their only connection.

The phone on the night stand rang and Tommy Lee cursed and grabbed for it.

"Speak!"

"Tommy, it's me. Alex is missing!" A frantic Walter hissed into the phone.

"What? Walter? Alex is missing?" Tommy sat up in bed rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Yes, Tommy, he's missing! He was supposed to meet me here at the cabin. I've been waiting for hours and there's no sign of him. Something's happened to him."

"Now don't panic, you say you're at the cabin?"

"Yes! He was supposed to meet me here; tonight!"

"Shit! Hold on, I'll get the General." Tommy pulled his other phone out of the nightstand drawer and punched in the General's number.

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say unless you're Pamela Anderson."

"General, its Tommy, I've got Walt on the other line, Alex is missing."

"Son of a bitch! We didn't move fast enough. Where's Walter; his apartment?"

"No, he was supposed to meet Alex at his cabin and he never showed."

"Fuck! OK. Tell him to get back here; and get everybody over to your place. And I was having such a good dream too. You know, it doesn't really matter whether they're real or not, they sure look good!"

"Should I call Chuck or just Bruce and Tony?"

"Just Bruce and Tony for now. No sense bringing Chuck all the way from Dallas just yet."

"OK. See you shortly. General?"

"Yeah?"

"You think they got him?"

"Probably so, I'm afraid."

"Damn!"

Tommy was waiting when Walter pulled into the parking area. He jumped out of his car, wide-eyed and frantic. Tommy grabbed him in a bear hug.

"Easy now."

"We gotta find him, Tommy!" Walter gasped and clutched his friend close.

"We will, I promise you. C'mon." He pulled Walter towards the elevator.

"The others here?"

"Yeah, the General and Tony are and Bruce is on his way."

Hugs and shoulder slapping all around and by then Bruce was there too. The General got control of everyone and got down to business.

"You have no idea where to contact him?"

"No. Our only contact has been over the internet. He has called me from time to time but it's usually from a pay phone somewhere. I'm sure he has a cell but I don't have the number."

"Where was he last time you spoke with him?" Bruce asked.

"He was in his apartment and don't ask me where it is, I have no idea."

"What time did he say he'd meet you?" Tony asked.

"We didn't set a certain time. He gets bad jet lag. He'd just gotten off a plane from Rome. He said he needed to sleep and he'd see me this evening."

"What time last night did you speak to him?" The General asked. "Any chance he went out after you talked?"

"No. It was after 11 PM. He was exhausted. He said he was going to sleep."

"You know nothing at all about his apartment? Not even what neighborhood it might be in?" Bruce asked.

"I know nothing about it except that he called it a hole."

"That could describe half the apartments in this city." Bruce shook his head.

"I know! I know! It's hopeless, isn't it? They've got him! I waited too long! I never should have let him go. We should have taken off when we had the chance."

"Now hold on here. Let's not panic just yet. You said he had the weekend off?"

"Yeah, the old man's out of town; won't be back till Tuesday or Wednesday."

"Then what makes you think he's got him? A man in Alex's position could have many enemies." Bruce said. "It could be someone else who has him. Do you know of anyone who has a grudge against him?"

Mulder's name flashed through Walter's mind but he said nothing.

"Maybe he just had car trouble?" Tony offered.

"He would have called by now."

"OK, you said he was tired; is there a possibility he was more than tired? Maybe sick?"

The General asked.

"He didn't say anything about being sick."

"Maybe he wouldn't have mentioned it."

"I think we should handle this the way we would any other missing person right now. Let's get busy and call around to the hospitals, clinics, and Bruce, you call headquarters and see if you can find anything out and remember to phrase it carefully."

Thirty minutes of phone calls and they covered most of the hospitals and clinics; Bruce came up with nothing on his end. They ended up with a list of about 20 different patients who roughly fit the description, a John Doe between the ages of 20 and 50 that were scattered in clinics across the city approximately 10 of those were amputees. They split up and took that ten first. No luck.

"I just don't think he'd go to a hospital," Walter was saying.

"But if he was hurt, someone else might have taken him." Tony argued.

They split up and set out again to check out the rest of the John Does on their list.

Bruce walked into the night clinic on 9th street; the kind of place where most of the customers were either John Does or Jane Does. He spoke to the person behind the desk wearing scrubs. He couldn't tell if it was a nurse, a maid or a receptionist. He suspected she was all three.

She hadn't seen any amputees all evening but it was Friday night and they were still coming in. That was all he got out of her and she was off, carrying a pail and mop down the hall.

He glanced around the waiting room. There looked to be about a dozen people there waiting to be seen. Most of them flipping through magazines or watching some program on the TV stuck in one corner. There was one whose face he couldn't see. He was slumped in a chair, his face toward the wall.

Bruce walked over to get a closer look at him and noticed droplets of blood on the floor. He put his hand on the guys shoulder and jostled him. He appeared to be sleeping. Bruce felt up the man's left arm; it was plastic. He knelt down beside him and patted the man's face to wake him.

The man roused somewhat; eyes fluttering open.

"Hey, fella," Bruce said in a low voice, "Krycek? Alex Krycek?"

Alex tried to move away but was too weak. Bruce saw the fear in the man's eyes and knew he had found him.

"Easy there, I'm a friend of Walter's. Walter Skinner. We've been looking for you!"

Bruce could see the relief in the man's eyes as he fumbled in his jacket and pulled out a disk.

"Get this to Walter for me," then he passed out.

"Hey, we need help over here!" Bruce yelled and stuck the disk in his pocket. The nurse came over with a wheel chair. They got Alex in the chair and she wheeled him into the back.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but you'll have to wait out front," she said as though she had said it a million times before.

"I'm not leaving him. He's bleeding. Get a doctor in here NOW!"

She noticed the blood and hurried off.

Bruce got on the phone and called Walter.

"I got him! I got him! We're at the clinic over on 9th and Baker. I don't know what's wrong with him yet but he's bleeding. You better get over here."

The doctor came in then and looked the patient over. He found a small caliber bullet hole in the lower back just above the kidney. He didn't even try to get Bruce out of the room and he didn't question him. He just set about removing the bullet.

Bruce heard loud voices coming from the reception area and stuck his head out and called down the hall.

"Hey! Down here!"

They ran down the hall, Walter in the lead, and crowded into the room. The General and Bruce standing watch at the door. By the time the doctor was finished bandaging him Alex woke up.

"He's lost a lot of blood. He needs a transfusion. We have some on hand, anybody know his type?"

"O Positive," Alex answered weakly as he gripped Walter's hand.

The doctor left the room to get the blood and transfusion supplies himself. The nurse was busy out front mopping up the blood.

"Hey, you stood me up!" Walter smiled down at him.

"Stopped to get you a present. Didn't think it would take this long. Sorry."

The doctor came back into the room then. "This stuff's not cheap. Any of you able to pay for this?"

"We can." Tommy answered and reached into his pocket. "How much?"

"He needs two units at least. It's a hundred a unit." The doctor eyed Tommy's fist full of bills.

"We'll just take one unit and then remove the patient from your care." Tony interrupted and reached for the equipment and set about administering the transfusion himself after carefully inspecting the markings on the bag.

"OK." Tommy said and laid a hundred dollar bill on the foot of the bed. Here's for the blood and here's for the paperwork, he laid down another four hundred.

"Is he a physician?" The doctor nodded towards Tony.

"He is." Tommy answered.

"Then I guess he can make up his own charts." He handed the chart with the paperwork on it over to Tommy; picked up the cash, pocketed it and left the room.

Tony sent Bruce over to his clinic to pick up an ambulance while he got the transfusion started.

"Are you sure one unit will be enough?" Walter asked.

"He'll probably need another but we'll get it from my clinic. He should start getting a little color back shortly." Tony said and walked over to the door way to speak with the General and Tommy; leaving Walter and Alex as much privacy as possible.

"You're going to be just fine, Alex. Tony knows what he's doing. We're going to get you out of this dump and into a nice place where you can be looked after properly."

"No, no hospital." Alex managed to get out.

"Not a hospital; private clinic. Tony runs it."

"They'll be looking for me. They know I took it." Alex licked his dry lips.

"Took what? What did you take, Alex?"

"The disk. I got it for you, Walter. I got the disk." He was out again.

"What disk is he talking about?" The General asked coming to the bedside.

"I have no idea. Check his jacket. See if it's in there."

The General checked the leather jacket and found nothing. Tony was checking for any other injuries when Bruce came in wheeling a gurney. They loaded Alex onto the gurney and headed out the back while the general pulled loose the bloodied sheet and dumped the stained sterile pads along with the bullet in the middle of it. He also collected the gloves the doctor had worn while treating Alex. He rolled it all up in a bundle and took it out with them.

They came in the back entrance of Tony's clinic, unloaded Alex and took him down the hall, through the double doors and into a private room in the back. With Tony's wife Rachel, head nurse, they got Alex cleaned up and settled while Walter hovered near by and the General, Bruce and Tommy were watching the entrances, the parking lot, and the patients waiting to be seen; to make sure everything was normal. By then it was after 3 AM so things had quieted down.

The color was slowly returning to Alex's face; he now resembled a man sleeping as opposed to a man unconscious and near death. Walter sat on a stool bedside, touching the side of Alex's face and whispering to him.

The General checked back in, "How's he doing?"

"He should make. He lost a lot of blood but the bullet caused no major damage." Tony answered.

Alex stirred and his eyes blinked open.

"Walter – We need to get out of here," he whispered.

"It's all right. These are my friends. You're perfectly safe here." Walter assured him.

"No. They're looking for me. I need to go." He tried to sit up but couldn't.

"Ask him about the disk." The General suggested from the foot of the bed.

"Alex, you mentioned a disk? Where is it? What was on it?" Walter asked.

"I gave it to the guy at the clinic. He said he was your friend."

"Bruce!" Walter said and the General was out the door to find him.

"What was so important about that disk?" Walter asked.

Alex tried to smile but it was more a grimace in pain.

"It's yours Walter. The evidence the old man had on you. It's the original."

"You got it? What about the evidence he has on you?"

"Haven't found it yet."

The General came rushing back into the room with the disk, holding it up. "What's on it?" he asked.

"It's the evidence that bastard had on Walter," Tony said.

"Where did you get it? Did you get yours? Is that where you took that bullet?" The General fired questions at him.

"I heard the old man had a stash here in the city. I didn't say anything because I didn't believe it but I took a chance. I was just going to look the place over but I saw the perfect chance for entry so I took it. The two guards were out front getting Pizza so I slipped in the back. I located the safe and had it opened in minutes. I sorted through the contents and found that." He pointed towards the tape.

"There was nothing there on you?" The General asked.

"No. Just that."

"So how'd you get the bullet?"

"I got careless; too much of a hurry to get out of there. Apparently the alarm was off while they were collecting their pizzas and they must have turned it back on when they came back inside because it went off as I went out the back door. They chased after me and got a few shots off. I caught one but got away. I've used that clinic before and for the right amount of cash, they can be very discrete." He moved a little trying to get a more comfortable.

"Tony, can't you give him something for the pain?" Walter asked.

"Got it right here," Tony answered approaching the bed with a syringe.

"No. I need to stay alert. Walter, where's my gun?"

"Right here," Walter pulled it out of his pocket and laid it on the night stand beside the bed within Alex's reach.

"You know all these people?" Alex asked quietly.

"Yeah; this is my family, Alex. I wanted you to meet them but I didn't plan on it happening quite this way." Walter smiled and re-assured him.

"I'm Tony Green; I look after this bunch." Tony said, "And that gorgeous gal over there is Rachel, my wife and head nurse in this place."

"That's right and what I say goes! Give him the injection, Tony." Rachel smiled and nodded to Alex as she made notations on the chart.

"Take the shot, Alex. You need it." Walter encouraged.

Alex nodded OK and took the injection.

He awoke to the in a strange place; strange smells and the feeling like a hot poker in his back. He remembered immediately what had happened. What he didn't know was what was pressing against his arm. He opened his eyes to see Walter's head leaning against him, sound asleep. He laid there for a minute, smiling. He wanted to reach out and touch Walter's head but he was lying on his arm and he couldn't move it without waking him.

He had to clear his throat and when he did, Walter roused.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked, one hand holding Alex's hand tight; the other caressing his shoulder.

Alex felt better all ready.

"Fine. This isn't how I expected our weekend to go."

"Me neither. I'm so glad you're OK though."

"Yeah. It was a stupid thing to do but it turned out well. Spender no longer has any evidence against you."

"Thank you," Walter said and leaned down and kissed him on the lips. "Now we've got to find whatever he has on you then we'll both be free."

"I've got to get out of here, Walter. The longer I stay here the more danger these people are in."

"You got away; they might not even know they hit you."

"Oh they know. It knocked me down. I managed to roll under a parked car before they got to me. They must have lost sight of me in the dark."

"Thank God they did."

"They are probably going around from clinic to clinic looking for me right now."

"You're right. We do need to move you. We'll go to Tommy's place. It has the best security."

"Walter, you don't have to do this. I can find a place to hide out for a few days."

"No way! You took that bullet to get that disk for me. I'm not letting you out of my sight. We've got a lot of talking we need to do, face to face."

Tony came in the room then. "Hey, you're awake! Great. How are you feeling? Hurting like hell, I'll bet."

"You'd win that bet." Alex smiled at him.

"Tony, we need to move him over to Tommy's. They're probably looking for him as we speak."

"That's a good idea. I'm off this weekend anyway so I don't need to be here. I'll make the arrangements." He walked out of the room as Rachel was coming in carrying a tray with breakfast for two.

"Good morning, boys! Hope you're hungry. This came out of MY kitchen and not the clinic's so dig in." She lifted the cover off the tray and the aroma of pancakes, sausage and eggs and coffee filled the room.

Walter pressed the lever on the side of the bed and raised Alex to a sitting position. They devoured the food; every last bite.

"Oh man, that was good. With a wife that can cook like that, how come the good doctor is so skinny?" Alex asked.

"Probably because he works like 20 hours a day, 8 days a week."

"That would do it."

"Which is why you're so skinny as well."

"I'm not skinny."

"Yes you are. Wait until you start eating my cooking; I'll fatten you up. By the way, you missed a great stew I made for us."

"I'm sorry I missed it. I'm also sorry I messed up our weekend."

"No need to apologize; I would have done the same thing."

Tony came in then pushing a gurney; Tommy came in behind.

"You ready to go for a ride?" Tony asked Alex.

"You OK with this arrangement, Tommy?"

"You know I am. It'll be nice having visitors."

"Rachel and I are going along too. She's getting our stuff together." Tony said.

"Great!" Walter said as they helped Alex over onto the gurney.

Five minutes later they were in the back of the ambulance and headed for Tommy's penthouse apartment; Bruce driving and the General and Tommy following them by car.

"Your friend always keep a hospital room set up in his apartment?" Alex asked after he was settled in and the others left the room.

"Yeah, he does. It's a great place to recuperate. I spent about a week here after I took that bullet in the gut. Tommy and Rachel will be hovering around to look after you. And there's a dumb waiter in the kitchen connected with the restaurant downstairs so we can order anything on the menu or if anyone feels like cooking, he keeps a well stocked kitchen."

"Must be nice to have friends like that."

"They're wonderful; all of them." Walter agreed and sat on the edge of the bed holding Alex's hand.

"I've got to be back to work by Tuesday so I can only stay a couple days."

"Alex, you can't go back!"

"I have to! I don't think they knew me. I didn't recognize either of them."

"What happens when they find my disk gone?"

"They might not find that out for a while. I replaced it with a blank disk, so unless they go in and play all the disks they won't know that yours is missing."

"It's still too dangerous and you're not up to any more of the old man's "work"."

"I'll be fine. I just need to rest for a few days."

"No way I can talk you into quitting right now?"

Alex shook his head no, "I've still got some more places to check out; see if I can find the evidence he has on me. I can't leave until I find it."

"Then let me help you look!"

"NO! This is my mess. I got myself into it and I'll get myself out."

Alex stayed there three days, Saturday, Sunday and Monday and left Monday night against everyone's suggestions. He had to go back. He couldn't leave until he had the evidence the old man was holding against him.

Thursday evening, Walter was getting ready for bed when the phone rang. He picked it up and answered, "Skinner".

"Just wanted to let you know that I'm fine."

"Thank God!" Walter heaved a great sigh of relief. "I heard back from Tommy. He found us a place and the General's already started work on a security fence."

"Sounds great."

"Any headway looking for that needle in the haystack?"

"Got some more ideas but haven't had time to check them out yet."

"Let me help. Just give me the location and I can check it out?"

"NO!"

"I won't go in alone; I'll take a couple of the guys with me. There's no reason that you need to do this by yourself. Let me help!"

"No! I can do this myself!"

"Normally you could, yes; but you're hurt; you're not back to your old self yet. If you don't want me involved then how about Bruce or Tommy? Either one would be a great help. Just a phone call and either one could join you or meet you someplace. You shouldn't be trying to do this alone right now."

"I don't know them."

"I know you don't but I do. You won't find a better man than either of them. They can either follow or lead."

"I don't know yet, what I'm going to do. I'll keep in touch, OK?"

"Yes! I'm counting on that. You know I'm going crazy here."

"You and I both know you're already crazy!" Alex said with a chuckle.

"Crazy about you! Please be careful."

"I will; now that I have a reason to be. Night."

"Night"

It was nearly a month later when Walter got a call from the General. He wanted Walter to set up a meeting with Alex as soon as possible. He had news.

The next email came and Walter told him.

"The General contacted me and wants to set up a meeting; whenever you can get away safely. He says to tell you its extremely important."

"So what is it? He didn't tell you?"

"No. He said I had to wait so he could tell us both at the same time."

"Where does he want to meet?"

"Tommy's. As soon as you can make it."

"You have no idea what it's about?"

"No, I don't. I haven't had the chance to talk to him."

"I can get away for about an hour or so tomorrow morning around 10. The old man has a meeting. I'm supposed to pick him up afterwards, about 11:30 and take him to the air port. We have a 12:45 flight to Hong Kong."

"OK. I'll set it up for l0:00 then. You need me to pick you up?"

"No. His meeting's only a few miles from Tommy's building. I'll drop the old man off a little before 10 and will come straight there."

"Good. Drive around to the rear where it says 'private entrance' and someone will be there to open the gates for you."

Walter got there early and paced the apartment back and forth waiting for the others to arrive. Tommy stayed with him, trying to keep him patient and dodging all his questions.

Finally 10:00 o'clock arrived and Bruce met Alex at the private entrance and showed him where to park and brought him upstairs to Tommy's apartment.

Greetings and handshakes all around and the General got right down to business.

"Got something for you, Alex." He reached behind the sofa and pulled out a rifle and tossed it to him. Alex caught it and looked it over; his mouth opened in shock.

"This can't be…" He asked the General.

"According to these papers, it is." He handed Alex a large brown envelope with the name Alex Krycek written across it.

"What is it?" Walter asked.

Alex was checking the serial number on the gun.

"How one earth…..Where did you find this?" Alex stuttered.

"I have a few connections of my own. Let's just say that one of them owed me a favor and I called it in."

Alex fumbled through the envelope checking it out; newspaper clippings, photos of him using the weapon; a disk with his name on it. It was all there.

"Is it……my God! Alex, is this the evidence they had against you?" Walter was stunned.

"This is it. I've been searching for this for 8 years! And you found it in a matter of weeks?" He said to the General.

"Well, it was all in knowing where to look and, of course, access. My contact took a little time but he got the job done and didn't jeopardize himself or his position."

"You know someone in the Consortium?" Walter asked, astonished.

"I know a lot of people, Walt. You should know that by now. Oh, and by the way, your place is ready whenever you are."

Walter and Alex stared at one another.

"I'm ready right now; how about you?" Walter asked.

Alex caressed the gun in his hands. "I don't have to go back! He's got nothing on me now!"

Walter grabbed him by the shoulders. "We can leave right now! What do you say?"

"But I've got to….."

"No you don't!" Walter cut in. "You don't have to do anything anymore but what you want!"

"You serious about this? You want to leave right now?" Alex asked.

"Why not?"

"OK. Let's do it. I just have one thing I need to do first."

"What is it? Can I help?"

"No. This is something I need to do myself. Can I meet you somewhere, in a couple of hours?"

"He'll be looking for you by then." Walter warned.

"I know. But he won't find me."

"Please let me go with you," Walter begged.

"No. I have to do this on my own." He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number.

"Mulder? I need to see you right now. It's important. I have some information."

Walter stood by and listened; his eyes never leaving Alex's.

"No, hold on a minute." Then to Walter he said, "Where do you want to meet?"

"Where do you want to pick us up, General?"

"Either here or at the clinic. Your choice."

"Your call, Alex."

"Here," then to Mulder he said, "The Botanical Gardens on Commerce. It's urgent, Mulder. I'm ten minutes from there right now. Get over there as soon as you can. I'll meet you in the rose garden." He closed the phone and put it back in his pocket.

"I'll get this over with as soon as possible, Walter, and meet you back here."

"Couldn't you just give him the information over the phone?" Walter asked.

"No. This information has to be delivered face to face." He headed for the door.

Walter went down in the elevator with him; holding on to him all the way. "I can't believe this is finally happening."

"Me either," Alex said and handed Walter the gun and envelope. "Keep an eye on these for me. We'll have a bon fire when we get to our place."

"You got a deal." Walter smiled at him as Alex climbed into his car and drove off. A trickle of fear lanced through him but he pushed it aside. They were so close now; just one more little bit of business and they could take off! Walter went back up on the elevator.

"So what the hell is so damn important? I haven't heard from you in months and all the sudden you have to see me right now!" Mulder groused as he walked up to Alex in the Rose Garden.

"I chose this place because there are benches to sit. I have some things to tell you and then I'm out of here. I'm retiring; I'll be out of the business for good."

"We could still see each other now and then, couldn't we?" Mulder suggested as they sat down.

"No. That's all over."

"What if I don't want it to be over? I don't believe you want it to be over either."

"Mulder, will you please just listen to what I have to say? I have information. Information about your family."

"My family? What family? They're all dead."

"Things you need to know. The answers to some of the truths you've been seeking."

"And you've just now come into this knowledge?" Mulder asked suspiciously.

"No. I've know it for a long time. Now do you want to hear it or not?"

"Might as well, since you're so all fired anxious to get it out."

"OK. First of all, I was able to get into the records of the facility that held your sister."

"You know about my sister?"

"Yes, she was used for different tests. She lived for 22 months after they took her and she died from pneumonia; her immune system was gone."

"But I met her."

"You met clones; generated from her cells."

"It was still her. I'd know her anywhere."

"Believe what you want, Mulder. I'm just telling you the facts that I learned."

"So she's dead?"

"Yes. I'm sorry but she is. I also have some other information. There was some talk a few years ago that Bill Mulder might not be your biological father."

Mulder put his head down; he remembered all too well.

"The old man had DNA tests run; when they came in, he didn't want to look at them. He handed them to me and told me to burn them. I did. But I looked at them first. Bill Mulder WAS your father; not Spender."

Mulder buried his face in his hands.

"Why are you telling me all this now? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"In this business, Mulder, knowledge is power. There was no reason to tell you anything so I didn't. But I'm retiring today; I didn't want to leave any loose ends. I'm leaving town. There'll be no more 'bumping into each other'."

"That's too bad. I kinda enjoyed that."

"I know; I did too in the beginning; but things are different now."

"Things don't have to change between us just because you're retiring. I could always meet you somewhere if you don't want to come back to DC."

"No. There's someone else and it's an exclusive thing."

"OH. Lucky you," Mulder pouted.

They sat quietly for a few minutes then Alex spoke.

"Why don't you get out too while you still can? There are so many other things you could be doing."

"Yeah, I hear Jack In The Box is looking for a new night manager."

"Seriously, Mulder, check around. You could teach or go the lecture route or even write a book. There are a lot of other things you could be doing. We both know the alien threat is past. There's no reason for you to spend the rest of your life seeking any more of your truths."

"I'll think about it. Is there any chance you could come up to my place for a couple of hours? We could have a good-bye drink; maybe some pizza?" His low seductive voice was working its magic and Alex found himself hardening in spite of his distaste for this man.

"No, I'm leaving right now." A helicopter flew overhead and he knew without really knowing that it was the General setting up their escape and something inside him smiled.

He stood to leave, "Take care of yourself, Mulder, I wish you well."

"Yeah, call me when you're back in town." He looked up at Alex and smiled. "You'll be back. I'll be waiting."

Alex shook his head at him and headed out. Walter was waiting for him and he could hardly wait to put as much distance between him and Mulder as possible. He hoped wherever this place was, it was far away from DC. Alex hurried to his car and drove as fast as he could back to the penthouse and into the waiting arms of Walter Skinner.

The End