TITLE: "My Dear Mikhail" 1 of 1 AUTHOR: N. Y. Smith EMAIL: HOME: http://members.aol.com/minismith/ RATING: PG CATEGORY: V, Krycek. SPOILERS: Isahunter's ongoing series Mikhail's Fire. ARCHIVE: Yes please. FEEDBACK: minismith@aol.com DISCLAIMER: None of them are mine. Okay? SUMMARY: A bit of advice for Krycek from an unexpected source. NOTES: Inspired by Isahunter's "Mikhail's Fire" and posted with her permission. Send as much virtual chocolate as possible to her muse so she can continue "Mikhail." And, this is my last ( LAST do you hear me?) XF fic. Pay no attention that I said that at the end of "Deathsman's Meed." Yeah, sure, whatever. Thanks, Isa, for the great story that is "Mikhail."

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My Dear Mikhail

by N. Y. Smith

My dear Mikhail--

You did always hate it when I called you that but, then, I was only exercising a father's prerogative. As such (some things even survive the grave) I humbly offer you a few tidbits of wisdom formed from the perspective of a father who, at last, can See Everything.

Ditch the Dynamic Duo. They're amateurs, easily manipulated but embarrassingly unprepared for the task ahead. But you are prepared. You can lie, you can steal, you can kill without rancor but with great craft well-honed by experience. That is what it will take.

You harbor no illusions about yourself or the future. While Mulder and Scully may be the Champions of Truth, Justice and the American Way you are the Guardian. Working your way through the rat's maze of double- and triple-crosses, you have learned The Game and The Players. Use that knowledge to save the world, and in so doing claim the Redemption you didn't even know you wanted.

But you do want Redemption; you crave it; you crave Her. Sabryn is the Light to your Darkness and, like the proverbial moth to flame, you are drawn to her. She is The Light for you and you must assure her continued existence.

It is ironic that to save The Light you must leave it for now and, perhaps, forever. Since your departure The Light in her has dimmed considerably, but it remains-- fueled by the now-burning ember of Life she found in you. Your Life is in her now but not in the way you'd hoped: neither a son nor daughter to carry on your memory. Not yet, at least. But your Life is in her in a way no man, power or government can take away from her. As long as she lives you will--in her heart.

So go. Go and do the job you know you must. For now, instead of being a soldier with Nothing to lose, you are a man who chooses to sacrifice Everything.

Congratulations on rejoining the human race. I await you on The Other Side, my son. Take your time.

End "My Dear Mikhail" minismith@aol.com