Title: No Match

Author: Kerttu

Category: Scully/Krycek friendship (sort of), Krycek/other, K/M UST

Spoiler: Requiem, post-ep

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Always welcome.

Distribution: Anywhere they want, but keep my name attached. Gossamer, yes. Krycek sites, yes.

Disclaimer: Don't own them, though want them. Don't sue, no point, I only own one rickety computer.

Summary: Scully finds a possible ally and Krycek gets laid at last.

Comments: Just a text formed in my mind and begged to be released. I obliged. And do believe that Scully would open the front door of the apartment building, please.

No Match

by Kerttu

Scully looks tired when she finally opens the door. Her hair out of the usually perfect copper orb, dark circles around her otherwise clear blue eyes.

All the strain of searching the one you love takes its toll.

She gives me a bored look.

'Give me one good reason why I shouldn't arrest or better yet, kill you?' Even her voice is weary.

'Because I may have something that can help you.' She isn't exactly listening, her eyes had found the unmoving disdainful blonde figure sitting in the parked car.

'Why didn't you bring along your companion?'

'She finds this contact unwise and dangerous.'

'And you don't?' Her focus shifts back to me. Now she takes it in: the uncharacteristic although black overcoat and the emptiness of the left sleeve.

'I do, but I have always lived like that.'

Scully sighs and crosses her arms. 'What you offer then?'

She has accepted that the information matters, not the source it comes from. Everyone grows up at some point.

'I am willing to give you the lap-top Kritschgau owned. The one that has the files about the certain object on the coast of Africa.'

That catches her full attention. Even the air between us seems to tense up.

'You have it?'

'Yes.' I tangle the opportunity in front of her and she will take it. In her position I would. And she does. I can see it in her eyes. Thank God, if there is such a thing. 'It may help, don't you think?'

'Where is it?'

'I will call you and bring it.'

'If you betray me this time...' and at that moment I fear her more than I have ever feared Mulder in his most violent moments.

'I won't. I need to find him, too.'

'Why?' She is honestly curious.

'For... mostly for the same reason you look for him.' She didn't expect honesty and it shows.

'Isn't she enough for you?' But she is never off-guard...

'No. Nobody can match him.' Scully sees and realises suddenly that the claim is true. It is a truth we both share.

Our mutual truth.

She doesn't like it, though. As it was to be expected.

'Call!' and the door falls shut, the bang a separate order.

Marita doesn't move when I sit in the car. 'Was she interested?'

'Of course.'

'Why do you do that? Why do give away your life insurance?'

'Because no one matches him.'

'But you still fuck me.'

'And you fuck me. Why is it?' It sounds hollow.

She doesn't answer. She doesn't need to.

We do it, because we have to. Because this is the only way to forget. Because after the murder we are linked. We are alone and we have to ensure each other. And so we fuck in order to cover the hollowness in our hearts.

Back in the motel we will fuck again. Hard and strong and no emotions attached.

She rides me in the dark, hating me and grinding me the more she hates me. She turns off the lights, because the stump makes her sick.

She said it bluntly at my face when I asked why does she prefer the dark.

It repulses me, too. Still.

But we still fuck, since it's the only way to stay together, to feel that we are still alive, although separated forever.

Tomorrow I will call and hand my life away to Scully. Hoping that she can decipher the markings on those slides and find a way to bring him back.

Then I will come back to the motel and maybe fuck Marita some more, because I'm still alive.

Not for long, though, and we both know it.

So we fuck. Ruthlessly, mercilessly - like gladiators in Rome. She hating me, I using her, while my mind hopes Scully to succeed.

Hoping him to return.

Because all I have left is hope and despair. And the conviction that I don't matter, she - fucking me - doesn't matter, but he does.

He is the hope and there really is no match for him.