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"Razor's Edge"

Quick footfalls echoed off the walls of the cavernous warehouse and she spun just in time to catch a figure jumping her in the near darkness. "Federal officer – HALT!" she managed just before impact. The force of the assailant's weight shoved her into the hard concrete and she braced herself in time to prepare for the teeth rattling impact of her head on the cement. Dazed but twisting with every ounce of strength, she was able to force them into a roll across the floor. Unfortunately, her opponent came out on top.

"Sonofabitch," she gritted between her clenched teeth. She struggled against her attacker but he was fast, pinning her hands with one of his own above her head. Thrashing, attempting to unseat him, she kicked hard at the floor. The sound of her boot heels thumping the floor punctuated their struggle, coupled with her breath whistling harshly. Her knee made contact with his tailbone and she took advantage of his surprise, wriggled her wrists free, reached for her shoulder holster and yanked it over her head, pulling her knit cap off with it. She whipped at his back with it, but had little leverage to really make the blows count. At least she'd stopped his progress.

"Dana, dammit! – Stop!" he was breathing hard from the struggle. "Quit it – you've hit your head!" He held his hand up in surrender, sat back and ripped off his dark ski-cap. "And-" he gasped, "that hurts!" He was breathing hard, and still had her legs pinned beneath him.

"Alex?!" she stopped in mid swing. "What are you doing here?" she asked. In a burst of ferocity, she rolled her hips hard to the right, "Get OFF me!" she grunted.

He lurched at her unexpected buck and landed on his left side. He grunted, rolled awkwardly to his back and pulled himself up to sitting, dazed. She got to her feet shakily as he stood up, taking his time. They faced off in tense, wary silence, both struggling for breath. Alex studied her face in the dim light, felt the current of electricity surge through him. "Why are you here – shouldn't you be on desk duty?" he asked and wiped his sleeve over his mouth.

"What am I doing–?" Her eyes hardened, "I'm doing my job, Alex," she raked a hand through her damp hair, "This-" she waved her hand at the plane wreckage surrounding them, "…is still an active investigation." Her chin dipped and she evaded his gaze, "You should leave." She turned and headed toward the overhead door, called back over her shoulder, "Now."

"Not yet." He hadn't moved from the spot where she'd left him, simply stood watching her retreating back. Tried to ignore the effect her soft sway had on him. "Dana-" she stopped but didn't turn around, "I haven't seen you in three months." He moved toward her, "You can't spare a minute?"

She spun on her heel and advanced toward him. "What is this? Alex Krycek, going soft and sensitive?" She stopped as her boots kicked into his, and cocked an eyebrow at him, "I've spared a lot of minutes for you in the last three months." He noticed her upper lip beaded with sweat; watched transfixed as she impatiently licked her tongue out and the beads disappeared. "I waited, Alex, patiently – I tried your cell and got no answer. Several times." She drew in a shaky breath, "Then – out of the blue – you call me in the middle of the night from who-knows-where and tell me to 'hang in there' like we we're old buddies." She balled her fists at her side. "You have no idea what I've been through while you've been M.I.A." She seemed unsettled for a moment, but held his gaze. "This isn't exactly the best way to build professional trust, Alex."

He returned her challenge, studied her intently. "So… your concerns are purely professional, then. You're worried I'm going to double cross you… get you in trouble with your pal Mulder?" She faltered slightly, and he felt the little spark of meanness light up his gut. He leaned in close, "Awww, what's the matter, did I hit a sore spot…Agent Scully?"

"There's no one spot when it comes to you, Krycek," she snapped.

Her face was tilted up toward his, her nostrils flaring slightly, and he wanted to kiss her. "You're angry? At me?" He strangled out a terse chuckle, "I only gave you what you wanted, Dana – I didn't walk away-"

"No… you didn't." Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, "You ran," she shoved him back roughly. "Coward."

The cold started at his chest and spread, slowly. Alex looked into her eyes and forcefully called up images of her, vulnerable and naked, in his bed. "Be careful, Dana…" he whispered. "Try to remember what I do for a living before you call names."

"Awww, what's the matter, Krycek-" his name sounded like a curse, "Did I hit a sore spot?" she taunted. Her voice and her face were pulled tight in a savage grin.

Alex grabbed her and shoved her back against the wall, leaned in close, "There's no one spot where it concerns you… Dana." He whispered her name against her lips, "It's all raw," kissed the side of her mouth, "Exposed," trailed his lips over her throat, "Damaged," finally landing on the smooth skin above the collar of her shirt. He felt her pulse, quick but steady, beneath his lips. Before he fully came to his senses her hands were in his hair and her lips on his, and he felt the impact of his own damnation full force.

"Don't stop, Alex… don't stop there…" she whispered into his mouth.

Kissing her was eating fire; it was hell disguised as heaven. It electrified his insides, threatened to eat him alive and he wanted to be consumed. Wanted to fall from the precipice and be lost forever. He had to force himself to pull back, regain his focus. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. "Listen, you witch-" she opened her mouth in protest, and he brought his prosthetic hand up to her lips, "Just listen, Dana – there's not much time."

He brought his hand away, cautiously, testing her silence. She was angry, but managed a tight, "Go on."

"The Smoker is losing credibility with the Group. He needs leverage. He's going to offer something to Mulder – something valuable – in a last ditch effort to gain Mulder's allegiance." He struggled to maintain his breathing, felt the toxic, heady mix of her scent and her parted lips -so close- blunting his instincts. "When this object is presented to you… take it, Dana."

"What is it?" she asked simply.

"Can't say. You'll know it when you see it." He forced his eyes away from her, swept the warehouse quickly. "And you'll know what to do with it, too." He leaned into her, surrendering to the pull of her body on his.

She brought him out of the spell with a jerk, "You bastard," she whispered into his ear, "Why?"

The corner of his lip pulled in an almost smile, and he leaned back to look at her, "You need someone to push you onto that ledge, Dana. You've got a bunch of soft, whipped men around you, cooing over your every ache, and encouraging you to 'take it easy'…" He tightened his arm around her waist, "You need a man to push you, because sometimes, the only way out is through the window and down the side of the building."

Her eyebrow shot up, "Oh, and you're that man, huh?" she asked.

"I'm your man," he leaned in and crushed her lips with his; felt the pleasure spread through him as she returned his kiss. He brought his head up and looked around, "You're about to have company – I gotta go." Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and headed for the exit.

She shivered and caught herself, "Wait a minute – your cell, I don't-"

"I'll get you the new number," he cut her off, then turned and took the last few steps backwards, "And when you get well… I'm gonna make you see double, you minx."

Dana smiled faintly and sank down to the floor. She sat there for several long moments, shaking her head at herself… at him… the situation. "Impossible," she muttered.

"What's impossible?" Mulder called out to her. His face was drawn up in concern, "Scully, why can't you -" He stopped and knelt down beside her, "What's the matter? Are you okay?"

She looked up at him, his face a picture of soft-focus concern… solicitous and …whipped. She almost smiled to spite herself. "Nothing – I'm fine, Mulder." She glanced toward where Krycek had disappeared into the dark, felt a little ripple of denied longing tingle through her. "Just… frustrated," she managed and took his proffered hand.

"Well," he looked around warily, "Let's get you out of here," he said. Scully let him lead her out of the building, let him guide her gingerly into the waiting cruiser; even let him walk her to the door of her apartment, as he murmured quiet admonishments to her.

It was nice…and respectable… and safe… being cared for, made over… treated like a china doll in danger of breaking… But it wasn't what she wanted.

She wanted… the ledge.

-End, Chapter 24-

AN: I won't plead… We are all busy; I know that. But – and this is hard for me to ask – if you're reading… may I have some feedback?