Developments
30th of April, Wednesday, 2003
Scully hadn't come to work for a week, didn't return his calls and he blamed himself for that. He had not been able to save their son and she was grieving having lost William to the woodwork of what was left of the Consortium. They had had him for six months, then one night, Maggie Scully called and said that William was gone. They and the forensic team didn't find a single trace how he was taken from the room next to where Maggie was reading a book.
He and Scully had searched for him feverishly, but in vain.
It was very hard on Scully and as usual, she shut him out.
She had come back to work but sometimes she took some time off and shut him out again.
It was driving him nuts.
Work wasn't helping this time, although the information the bastard Krycek had brought was intriguing. He just couldn't concentrate on anything but ... her, his Scully. She was hurting, he was hurting and there it was.
Mulder glanced at the clock on the wall - it was almost time to go and meet the bastard again. The sewer-rat had promised more information.
Krycek was late, about three hours. Mulder shot a glance around the bar but there was still no sign of him. He took another sip of his Scotch and decided that he had enough of waiting. Since he was feeling lousy, and he was in a bar... 'One goes with the flow of things' he rationalised.
One double Scotch followed another. His mood got more and more sombre but also more numb, thank God.
"Hi, handsome, want to party?" Mulder turned his head. A cheap-looking chick perched on the next seat and winked at him. He hadn't realised it was one of those bars.
"Nope."
"Oh, come on, she's not worth it."
"Oh, but yes, she is."
"What she's got that I don't?"
"She doesn't look cheap."
The chick slapped him. He hardly felt it, but he did feel when somebody came and spun his seat around. The man looking down at him was, well, he was huge to say the least.
"Mister, if you don't want company, that's fine, but don't go around offending everyone."
"They all say that subtlety is not my strongest asset." He couldn't help it; he had to say it.
"Then your place is not in this bar."
"Oh, it is, I'm waiting for someone."
"And who could that be?" This was the chick again, her voice shrill with anger.
"Me."
Mulder turned slowly. Krycek had finally appeared. Looking a bit out of breath, but unfortunately very alive.
"Oh, a pair of faggots..." It was the chick again.
"And we have only kissed once", commented Krycek in a really low voice, but all four of them heard it. The chick doubled over with giggles that made her sound somehow really dumb-witted.
Mulder fought the urge to strike at Krycek. However, the mountain of muscles and steroids stood between him and Mulder. The rat-shit was safe...
"So this is 'she' who doesn't look cheap..." The chick burst. Hearing this, Mulder looked at her for a moment before her words registered. He saw red: how could this stupid tart compare Scully with this-this ...?!!
Krycek saw Mulder's eyes to blaze with anger before he started to wreak havoc.
Well, at least he tried to - by attempting to slap the chick. The proverbial Mohammed's companion grabbed hold of him and Mulder found the floor coming to face him damn fast.
He woke up in his car - on the passenger seat. Krycek was driving.
"Where are we going?" he coughed and felt that his head was hurting under the heavy layer of alcohol. He also felt a strong urge to punch Krycek. Somehow he resisted it - only because Krycek was driving, so they both might end up dead.
"Your place. You are in no condition for anything else. And stop touching your forehead, you'll start bleeding again."
"So you got me out of the place? Why not to leave me behind like you used to?"
"Things have changed. I need you to use the information." Krycek stopped in the red lights. "I'm one of the good guys now."
"Yeah, sure. Saint Krycek. Pope will die laughing."
Krycek didn't say anything until they had reached Mulder's apartment. He hated to admit it, but he was so drunk that even Krycek's occasional help to keep him upright was very useful. Mulder let himself be navigated to the bedroom and seated on the bed.
"I brought you this." Krycek showed him a computer disc and put it on the nightstand, out of his drunken reach. "You look at this when you're coherent again." There was a sigh when Krycek saw Mulder reaching under the bed and bringing out a half-finished bottle of something that seemed to be whisky.
"You're drunk, Mulder."
"I know." He proceeded to open the bottle and taking a mouthful of the contents.
"I meant - drunk enough." And then the bottle was suddenly in Krycek's hand.
"Hey! Give it back!" He didn't care why Krycek was acting up so nice. He wanted to get so drunk that he wouldn't even remember his own name anymore...
"You know that you're going to have a killer hangover tomorrow, don't you?"
"You're not my mother. And I really don't care. Now, give it back!"
Krycek shrugged and put the bottle on his lap. "Go ahead, it's you're funeral." After a moment's watching how Mulder downed another gulp of Scotch, he commented:
"At least put something on that gash."
"I'm really lousy with bandages even when I'm sober, so - no way!"
"And you have Scully, who has a degree in bandaging." There was something in Krycek's voice that didn't sound quite right but... Mulder blinked and tried to remember what the bastard had said. 'Yeah, Scully and the degree.'
"Right." He croaked.
"You should call her."
"She won't answer and I'm tired of talking to her machine. That thing knows me far better than she does."
"Then I'll do it."
That finally caught Mulder's attention. His hand holding the bottle sank to his lap.
"What?"
"Bandage you. Otherwise you'll bleed all over your bed. And you're the type A lousy housekeeper." Krycek got up. Mulder nodded, feeling nicely indifferent.
"That's true" he complied.
"Ouch! That hurt!!"
"Sorry." Crouching in front of Mulder, Krycek was smoothing the Band-Aid on his ex-partner's forehead and doing the best he could to ignore Mulder's body heat. He hated what he had become and he definitely hated the bouts of horniness that assailed him sometimes. Today had been particularly bad in that respect. He pulled back, noticing that Mulder was looking at him thoughtfully.
"Mm. I have been wondering..." The drunken Agent said and stopped.
"About what?"
"That... about that kiss." Krycek swallowed hard in disbelief ('He can't be asking this now?'), when Mulder continued: "Why did you kiss me?"
He shrugged and started collecting the medical stuff on his lap. Then he smirked and confessed:
"Maybe I had the hots for you?"
"Had, like past tense? What about now?"
'Shit', he thought and opted for humorous relief: "Look at you - totally sloshed, face bleeding: a complete mess. Who could possibly want you? I'm not even mentioning your hair..."
"Don't get personal!"
"Who, moi? Sticks and stones, Mulder, who asked about kissing?"
"Not kissing, a kiss! One particular kiss."
"You're obsessed with it, aren't you? Why? Want another one?" he teased and regretted it the next moment because Mulder's eyes went dark and he asked innocently like the whore of Babylon:
"Are you offering?"
"I'm not that cheap." Suddenly he felt really offended. Before he could get to his feet, however, Mulder had grabbed his wrist. Hard. 'So, are we back to the old routine of violence?' he snarled in his mind, but Mulder surprised him by saying:
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to offend you."
"You should have acted that way in the bar. Though coming from you and addressed to me... that's new." He tried to get up, but Mulder didn't let go. Instead of releasing him, he pulled Krycek closer. 'What the heck are you doing, Mulder?' He was still pulling him closer, he could sense the warmth emanating from Mulder's body, and also smell the whisky too well for comfort - and then Mulder planted a kiss on him - in the exact same spot he had given his peck.
Mulder watched Krycek jerk back and almost fall on his butt, because he had also released his hand. He scrambled onto his feet, and basically run out of the room. 'Curioser and curioser', Mulder thought and resumed drinking. God, he wished that someone would make him feel better.... about everything.
Krycek had rushed out, because... that was a good question, why? The practical part of his mind reminded him of the things he was still clutching against his chest. Yep, he had to put them back. That was as good excuse as any. His emotional part on the other hand had a really hard time trying to calm his racing heart and subdue the ringing in his ears. He leaned against the wall and sucked in a lungful of air. 'So this is what it feels like to be kissed by Mulder. Mm, correction, to be pecked by him...' Krycek found himself smiling, although he also felt angry as hell - now Mulder was teasing him, playing with him... 'And you don't know how easy it would be to persuade me... Thank God, that you don't know.'
He realised that he should leave right now, grab his jacket and leave. He had delivered the information and even taken care of Mulder's sorry arse. Forehead, to be exact. 'But why did he do that? To annoy me? To test me? For what? DAMN!'
He was standing on the doorway of the bedroom demanding an explanation before he understood what he was doing.
"Why did you do that?" It came out as a growl.
"My sentiment exactly..." Mulder smiled drunkenly and raised his eyes on Krycek. Motioning now with the almost empty bottle the Agent added: "You see how odd and... mmm... unresolved it felt?"
Something snapped inside of Krycek. "You want the thing resolved? Okay, let's resolve it."
Mulder observed with a mild amusement how Krycek stormed in, pulled him to his feet and - kissed him. This time properly on the mouth.
'Oh boy... what have I done now?' he was about to back away, when Mulder grabbed hold of him. Perhaps because he needed to steady his intoxicated body or perhaps he wanted to feel a bit in control or was just used to holding a partner while he was kissing - whatever the reason, Mulder's arms went around him.
Krycek stiffened but Mulder only chuckled shortly. "Scared, Krycek?" Jeez' how his breath stank, Mulder could even smell it himself but he didn't care. It made it more fun to see the bastard ruffle up, and retort with another almost bruising kiss.
Mulder's response caught him off-guard and the horniness he had barely managed to keep under control burst out and he felt his knees going weak. 'Never thought Cher could be right... Lost... lost' whined a tiny voice in his mind - because Mulder knew what to do. It was the most frightening thing - what do you do, if your life's wish is offered to you on a plate? What do you do?
He didn't know. He couldn't pull away; helpless, he could only hope that Mulder would. Desire was in him like a living thing, an erupted lava flow.
Mulder's head was spinning from the booze and the slight concussion. He saw Krycek just standing there, he seemed somehow vulnerable and - what was that thing in his eyes? 'Desperation? Need? So maybe his comment about the kiss was true?' He pulled him suddenly closer and although he saw fear flicker over Krycek's face, he didn't fight him when he ventured to test yet another thing: Mulder had always liked to kiss necks. 'If you don't approve, then... The choice is yours.'
'This is a bad idea, this is A VERY bad idea, very-very bad-' He really hated Mulder right now - he had never felt so helpless. 'We're both going to regret this, I just know it... God...' All higher brain functions shut down, since Mulder was doing really wicked things to his neck.
Then Mulder's hands started to roam.
They were everywhere. On his shirt, in his shirt, pulling and tugging, sliding and touching, caressing and holding, and pushing - until they both fell flat onto the bed knocking each others breath out.
"So you did have the hots for me..." Mulder's voice carried a twinge of mockery, but somehow it still felt like a caress.
Krycek didn't answer. He couldn't and he didn't want to. Even if Mulder stopped right now, his body would remember everything: his weight, his warmth, his hands - for a change not hurting -, those lips... He would have a little piece of personal heaven.
And, boy, was he horny now. He felt Mulder's hand coming up, fingers closing around his throat, rather tight - Mulder's skin was hot, Krycek felt his pulse drum against his grip - and he almost wished Mulder would squeeze the life out of him.
"You really want this, don't you?" Mulder couldn't believe it. He also couldn't believe that Krycek – of all the people! - allows him to hold him by throat. 'As if waiting meekly for me to - What, kill him?' The thought send adrenaline rushing through his system as he realised the situation: he was in control. This night he could do everything he wanted. Nobody had given him the total control, not even Scully when they had been together. Somehow, risking everything and going against all odds, Krycek had surrendered to him. Completely. No questions asked.
It felt good.
It felt damn good
It was the first good feeling he had experienced that night.
Damn, it was the first good thing he had felt for days.
The power of it made him feel giddy.
And Krycek still hadn't moved. Hadn't answered. "Do you want this?"
"Can't you tell?" The answer was forced as if he couldn't master his voice anymore.
Mulder could tell, as a matter of fact. He recognised the desperation, the craving for relief for the freezing loneliness. He recognised it all.
His hands were removing Krycek's shirt before he realised it.
The second week of May arrived with Scully returning to work. She still kept her distance, but she returned his attempts to joke and she smiled. Faintly, but a smile nonetheless. Mulder couldn't kick himself enough about the horrendous event. 'How could I do that? Would, please, someone explain it to me?'
Of course he tried to hide his dilemma from her, but there was nothing she wouldn't finally sense. And then, God forbid, confront him.
15th of May, Thursday, 2003
On Thursday evening the doorbell rang. Scully stood there, carrying his favorite take-out and Mulder knew that he was in trouble.
The shit hit the fan after the second cup of coffee.
"Mulder," she said and paused making him focus on her. "You've been acting..."
"How?"
"Qualmish." She paused for an emphasis. "For a week. What's the matter?"
He closed his eyes. 'Here we go...' Although he couldn't make himself to look at her, he still could talk. 'Mulder, now or never.'
"Scully, I have a confession."
"Yes?" She wasn't sure, did she like the sound of that.
"Did you see the last movie Kubrick made? With Kidman and Cruise?"
"Mm, yes..." 'Still don't like this.' Scully watched him struggle for words.
"You remember the scene where they make out in front of the mirror?"
Scully rolled her eyes, but nodded - trust Mulder to remember such scenes. He continued:
"Do you remember the song accompanying the scene, Chris Isaak'c 'My Baby Did A Bad, Bad Thing'?"
"Your point being?" She didn't like it at all...
"I feel exactly like that... I've done a bad-bad thing."
"Stop stalling. What was it?"
"I slept with Krycek."
She sat there. She hated to be right. She didn't like this.
Mulder waited.
She sat with her face blank and then she rose and Mulder flinched. 'Right, Mulder. Smooth, Mulder. Now she walks out of here and that is the end of our relation- damn, this kills even our friendship. Nice, Mulder, real nice.'
But she didn't.
She walked to the closet, where Mulder kept his 'emergency whisky' stashed, opened it, took a glass, and filled it to the rim. With two swallows it was downed. Then she poured herself another, closed the bottle and the closet, and came back to the couch.
"How? And if you can explain it, why?"
"I honestly don't know why I did it... As for how.... I know that it is no excuse, but I was really drunk." he was fiddling with the pair of chopsticks that came with the takeout.
"And he did what?"
"She."
"What?" she thought she heard wrong.
"She. Krycek was a woman."
"No..."
"Yes." he stopped fiddling and looked up, having the patented guilt-ridden-Mulder expression.
In a way she felt relieved: Mulder wasn't too weird. All the time she had feared - when they had started to get really close - that there is something in him that is too dark, something that could stand between them. He had now obviously confessed something that for him was the worst he could do and although she really disliked the fact, it had been only a one-night stand. With another ... woman?!
"Krycek is a woman?"
"Yes, she is. I have first hand knowledge." He stopped abruptly and rushed to correct himself "Scully, I didn't mean it like-"
"Yeah, sure...." She sipped her strong drink. "So, what happened?"
He sighed, but then told her: about the meeting in the bar, about his head-wound, about their talk.
"And then one thing-"
"Lead to another. Right. Why did ... she do that? What did she say?" She wanted to know, call it a scientific curiosity.
"He... She said nothing. But I suppose she was damn lonely. And perhaps-"
"Perhaps...?"
"Perhaps she wanted me." Mulder stretched his back and neck. "Now, when I think of it, there has been some kind of tension ... on his-her part." Scully was giving her suspicious brow-look. "I never thought about him like that, Scully!"
"Kind of hard to believe it now."
"It's true!"
"Okay. I'll settle with your word. You know you have to go and get tested, don't you?"
Mulder's shoulders slumped. "God, I didn't think about that..."
"It seems that you didn't think much at all... But drunkenness usually does that." Scully leaned back on the couch. The whisky was making her tipsy. 'No way I'm going to crash in Mulder's place, definitely not after this news'. Then she realised that she was no condition to drive home. 'Perfect'. She glanced at her watch. She had to go, but she didn't want to risk to be pulled over. 'I can see Skinner's look...'
"Scully..."
"Mh?"
"I'll drive you home." 'Blessed be Mulder's perceptiveness'. She nodded and slipped her shoes back on - which she hadn't even remembered taking off. 'Mmm, perceptiveness... Mulder's perceptiveness... What if he's right? What if Krycek really-'
"Where's the keys?"
"Here." She reached inside her coat pocket and handed them over. Mulder took them and then took her hand as well. She stopped and looked at him.
"Do you believe that I love you? That I would never want to-"
"I do believe that you love me. The other matter... I'll just have to risk and trust you." He had, indeed, sounded sincere. 'As long as his VD tests came up clean!'
Mulder smiled and hugged her. "Thank you", he whispered into her hair. The touchstone of his life was solid again.
7th of July, Monday, 2003
'What is this?'
Krycek clutched the side of the toilet having dropped to his knees and fought with the spell of faintness. It was afternoon and until now three times before in this week he had found himself unsteady and nauseous. It came and went, came when he seemed to get really hungry and then the feeling stayed with him about two hours.
'Is this the first sign of cancer?'
He sat onto the floor. He didn't want to die. He really didn't. 'Okay, Krycek, think. What else this could be? A bug, an usual little bug, that messes with your digestive system ... they usually make you nauseous, but not unsteady... Food poisoning? It would not last for so long... or if it did, I would be dead by now. What else? What would make a strong survivalist guy - correction - girl, so sick with no apparent reason?' He laughed silently at his own words - he had to force himself to think about being a 'her'.
'Krycek, what makes women sick-' His laughter died away. 'No... this can't be!! No, no...' But he thought back at the single night that meant something to him and he remembered that they had had raw sex in the first and literal sense of the word.
They had used no protection.
'Oh my God...'
There weren't many people in the local store, but Krycek still had the feeling that everybody glanced at him when he dropped the home-pregnancy-test among his other groceries. The shop-owner was a nice old man but right now Krycek dreaded his usual way of commenting something. However, he had been a good client this far and he didn't want that to change.
The constant itching on his phantom arm didn't make his mood better either.
When he put his things on the counter, he hoped that the storeowner would let the box go by unnoticed. No such luck. The old man smiled happily and said:
"Hoping for someone?"
Krycek wished to vanish but he smiled, too and answered: "Well, yes, me and my girl-friend..." He let the sentence hang in the limbo thanking God that he could still pass as a man.
"Good-good, I hope you two have some good luck!"
He knew that the old man had meant no harm, but he really wanted to kill him. 'However, some good luck would be welcomed, indeed.'
The blue stripe appeared - and brought along no stars. 'No happy American end for me...'
He sat on the bed and stared at the tiny crappy item that had given him the answer he didn't want. He threw the test back to the table and snarled. He couldn't hope that the test lied, those things had been basically tuned to be foolproof. 'Safe and comfortable' like the text said on the box. 'Safe indeed.'
'How could I be so stupid!' Krycek hit the wall. He hadn't suspected anything, he hadn't even thought about this possibility. Yet, he was trapped now. Not as bad as the silo but pretty close. Very soon.
'There are private hospitals', he thought staring angrily at the wall. 'If you pay enough and give false ID, there won't even be questions... so don't panic. Just don't.' Alex noticed that his fingers were trembling. 'Calm down. Tomorrow you'll go and find a nice white hospital, where they can take care of your problem. And then you are free...' He got up, made himself a big strong drink. It made him feel better, not much, but better nevertheless. He could even lay down and rest some, but he couldn't sleep, though - he was too shocked. The stump itched again, too. Real bad. So he just lay there and waited for morning to arrive.
9th of July, Wednesday, 2003
He woke up in intensive care, the machines all around him. And he was TIRED, like in 'dead-tired'. The nurse, who had sat nearby, got up, smiled at him, and went to fetch the doctor, before Krycek could utter a word. By the time the doctor got there, he had managed to free himself from the oxygen line.
"You're awake..." The doctor wheeled the stool nearer, looked at him, ignoring the missing oxygen line. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit. What happened?" His voice was odd. 'Right, an anesthesia.'
"You... went into a cardiac arrest."
"I... died?" It hurt to talk.
"Yes. Your blood pressure dropped, your heart-"
"The child." he rasped. 'Priorities...'
"I'm sorry, but we couldn't do the procedure. As soon as the endoscope got near to the fetus, your vitals dropped. We tried three times. The last time you flat-lined."
"So.. it's still there?"
"Yes."
He felt cold panic - he somehow knew that he could go to another place but he wouldn't get what he wanted. The child would kill him, before letting him kill it.
"How long do I have ... to stay here?" Krycek knew that he shouldn't stay there at all, but he had to put on some front.
"24 hours. To see that the electrical shock didn't do any harm." The doctor patted his arm and stood. "Now, get some rest."
He actually slept three hours, before switching off the machines and sneaking away. He was still tired like hell, his knees wobbled, but he managed to leave.
Two weeks and two cardiac arrests later he gave up.
In the solitude of his motel-room he fell flat to the bed and felt how he was shuddering all over. 'Trapped... Christ, what a shit...'
17th of August, Sunday, 2003
The doorbell rang again. Scully moaned and opened her eyes. Alarm clock showed the third hour of a new day. "This'd better be good..." Shrugging on the bathrobe, she patted to the door, picking up her gun on the way, though. Even if it's only Mulder, one should not be too careful.
"Who's there?" she inquired when a glance through the peephole didn't give her any clues.
"Krycek. I need your help."
Scully slumped against the wall and stared in space for a while. 'The nerve this bastard has...'
"Please, Scully..." 'That's unheard of- Krycek actually saying 'please'.'
"What's wrong?"
"I got shot."
"Go to hospital."
"And get reported to police. Thanks, but no thanks." A short pause. "Please."
"I'll unlock the door, and you can come in, but try something and-"
"I get the idea."
Scully drew a breath, cocked the gun and clicked the lock. "Come in."
The first thing Krycek noticed was the barrel of the gun. 'And what did you expect, Alex? Open arms?' He stumbled in, his head spinning because of the pain. 'Shit' he thought when his vision blurred. Somehow he managed not to faint.
"You are a mess."
"Tell me about it." he hissed.
"Bathroom. You won't pay my carpet cleaning bills anyway."
Everything in Scully's bathroom manifested: Here lives Scully the most precise and pristine of Special Agents of the Bureau. Krycek, who was seated on the toilet, felt out of place. But he felt out of place in most places. He had let Scully to disarm him and take his jacket off. His only arm throbbed and he saw blood slowly wetting his shirtsleeve. 'Shit-shit-shit.... Who asked me to go and snoop around once again? Look, what you have to do, to whom you have to turn to...' Scully came back, holding a hypo.
"What's that?" he gasped, feeling weakly alarmed
"A local anaesthetic."
"I'm supposed to believe you?"
"I let you in, didn't I?"
"Whatever..." He actually didn't care whether Scully gave him a painkiller or a dose of poison, or whether he would get arrested or not.
He felt his arm go numb, observed how Scully destroyed his shirt and cleaned the entrance area of the bullet. The wound wasn't that bad, but he couldn't do anything with his fucking prosthetic replacement. He wasn't wearing it, either. It didn't seem to fit anymore.
He closed his eyes when Scully put on her glasses and started to dig the bullet out. Finally came the metallic clank. "Got it."
"Why do you have all this stuff at home?" Krycek had half-hoped that she would, but to witness that she did, made him curious.
"Mulder equals trouble equals wounds equals-"
"You patching him up."
"Yep. So it is handy stuff to keep around." Scully found herself relaxing - Krycek was pale and in pain and wasn't trying to attack her. "Why did you come here?"
"I knew that you could help me... if you choose to. I also brought you- Look in my jacket's right upper pocket." Scully did. It was a computer disc. "I also had nowhere else to go."
"Why not Mulder? The disc would mean more to him."
"No..." Krycek dreaded the thought that he would have to face Mulder again. "No." He shook his head. "And not this disc. It has medical records from the beginning of 1960's. Might throw some light on things for you both."
Scully nodded and didn't push the Mulder-issue, although she wanted to. After a moment she finished. "You should change it, at least once, you know."
Krycek looked at the bandage. He nodded, but commented: "It's going to be tricky."
"I'm sure you'll find a way."
"Thanks." Krycek stood at the kitchen door. Scully could barely hear his - 'you have to remember, damn it, 'her'' - low voice. She answered with a shrug.
"You took a chance coming here, I took a chance helping you."
"Perhaps you shouldn't have-"
"Perhaps. But I wouldn't have liked to explain to Mulder, why I didn't help his one night stand."
For a moment Krycek went white as a sheet and Scully waited for him to faint. After all, he/she had lost a fair amount of blood.
"He ... told you?" he finally stuttered.
"Yes. That's called trust, Krycek. You might have heard about the concept."
"And you still helped me... Why?"
'Beats me', Scully thought but said diplomatically: "I'm a doctor. And I'm curious. Why did you do it?" 'Didn't come out very diplomatic, did it, Scully?' she scolded herself waiting at the same time anxiously for Krycek's answer.
Krycek stood there, shifting his weight from one leg to another and was visibly torn between the urge to run - 'more likely stumble' - away and to stay and end the discussion. Scully watched the clock on the wall. She still might get some sleep, if Krycek left now. 'Though, it's unlikely. And I have to learn, why he ... she ... did that... thing.'
"Want some tea, Krycek?"
"What?" He had obviously lost the track of Dana's thoughts.
"Tea, a cup of hot tea. I need one. Looking at you I might say the same."
Krycek stepped in the kitchen. "Are you serious?"
"Yes." She had already filled the electric jug. A click and it started to hum almost at once.
"Why?"
"My sleep is ruined anyway. I also want my questions answered." She sat behind the table. "Sit and tell me."
"What did he say?" Krycek dragged the stool out under the table and winced - the arm started to hurt again.
"I'll tell you later. Now I want your version."
'Did it sound like a threat or am I paranoid?' Krycek took a seat.
"I ... love him."
Scully kept her poker face. "So do I. But I don't jump the people I love." The heating device clicked and turned off. She stood to pour the water out.
"I didn't jump him! Did he say that I did? He's such a-"
"Stop. Calm down. The more reason to explain what you did, don't you think?" She put a cup in front of her late-night/early-morning visitor. She also heard him-'her!' sigh.
"After being kicked out of the bar - I assume he told you that too (Scully nodded and sat down again) I took him back to his apartment, patched him up, since he refused to call you. While I was looking for things to help him with, he had carried on drinking ..." Krycek sipped his tea, almost burning his tongue, but managed to swallow the hot mouthful. "He kept asking about that stupid kiss... Just kept asking and asking... teasing, you know. Telling me - that it's unresolved. So-" he took another sip, this time more carefully. Whatever the blend, it was good. "-I resolved it. By kissing him." He ended bluntly.
Scully traced with her finger the rim of her cup. "And he allowed you?"
"Yes. He was drunk as a skunk and smelled like one too." Scully was watching him and Krycek wished now that he had listened to his instincts and run before the third degree started.
"Then?"
"What do you think?"
"I can imagine, though I'd rather not."
"Then don't."
"Why did he do it?"
"What did he say to that? I bet you asked him."
"Honestly?"
"Yes. Seems to be the mode of the evening."
"He doesn't know. Any ideas from you?"
"No ideas. Perhaps I was there and he was lonely. I know I was."
They ended their teas in silence.
When Scully walked Krycek back to the door, one more guestion begged to be asked.
"Krycek..."
"Mhh?"
"Did it make you feel better?"
"You are one nosy person."
"And you've never been that?"
Krycek smirked and capitulated. And because they had been oddly honest tonight...
"It helped some.... but it also made it worse."
"Why worse?"
"You're supposed to be a bright woman, Scully. Figure it out!" Krycek had got visibly angry. "He has you now, he has always had you! From the day you two met, you have had each other. I'm never going to feel close to him again..." His anger run out. "It hurts. The empty fucking nights and the bleak mornings hurt."
He went to the door, opened it and walked out, not adding anything. Scully stood there wondering whether she had heard correctly: it seemed that Krycek had been on the verge of tears. 'Krycek and crying. Well, that's a sight to see.'
The next day in the office dragged on like an asthmatic ant. Scully sat behind her computer, going through the information Krycek's disc contained. There was loads of material, but she needed to start somewhere. A whim made her type Krycek's name on the search, and then she was really shocked on seeing a file come up.
"Oh my God."
She looked up - Mulder wasn't in the room, which was good. She had to digest the news she had just read. She also had to collect the results from the lab... The ones she had given in that same morning.
When she returned, she smelled coffee from the elevator doors and was sure that Mulder had returned. She was right.
"Mulder..."
"Yes?" he was pouring himself the second cup of fresh coffee, but he turned around to see what Scully had to say. It sounded important.
She was staring at something within a report in her hand. She had the intent 'I'm-kicking-your-ass-with-science' Scully look and she was gorgeous. She had been getting more and more gorgeous, since they had resumed their intimate relationship. 'Which would be about month ago. I must remember to give her something nice for our month's anniversary'.
"You know, what you said about Krycek being a woman?" 'And here cometh the iceberg that sinketh the Titanic' Mulder sighed.
"Yes..." 'I'm painfully aware' he added, putting the glassy coffee-pot back.
"Well, she's a woman alright. The tests prove it."
"What tests?" Mulder inquired, surprised.
"The ones I took from him, her... and gave in for testing this morning. I had a night visitor." Scully sat down behind her desk. "And she's pregnant, too." She looked up only to see Mulder losing his grip around the coffee mug. It shattered to the floor.
"Preg... pregnant?" he stuttered.
"Yes. Her blood has the required level of HCG."
"Of what?"
"It stands for human chrionic gonadotropin, the pregnancy hormone. Mulder, you better sit down." He did, his knees were jelly anyway.
"How..." he only managed.
"Krycek came to my place yesterday night. He - sorry, she, needed help, because she had been shot. It was a clean bullet wound on ... her upper arm, but being one-handed... " Mulder nodded absentmindedly.
"So," Scully continued, "I cleaned it, dressed it and drank a very late tea with her."
"You did what?!"
"It was very enlightening... Anyway, I brought some of her blood to the lab, and here are the results. Krycek is definitely a woman. And you may relax - she tested totally clean about anything venereal."
Mulder seemed shell-shocked. Scully felt sorry, but she wasn't finished.
"There's more, Mulder."
"What?"
"Krycek also dropped off a disc with medical information about human testing. Her own name came up. She or he, whatever, was one of the first test-tube babies in the world. If that's true, the method was in active use far before than the public knew about it."
"That's yesterday's news."
"I'm just angry that all of my education about medical history is somewhat... wrong." Scully got up and fetched herself coffee. 'I have to get Mulder another mug... Something with foxes this time.' She sat back. "There were weird things in Krycek's file. The DNA was odd, human, but... I have to consult the specialist I know. His, her hormone levels are strange, too. That together with this extra-ordinary DNA structure might be the reason for her sex change. If it did happen at all. You never saw her naked before-"
"I certainly didn't!! But I have wrestled with him really up-close and... You know." Mulder looked sheepish.
Scully smiled and concluded: "I don't but I believe you. If she did change sex during her life... that must have been rather traumatic."
"You wish to play doctor?" It seemed that Mulder started to recover.
"I am one, I don't have to play. I just thought... imagine if you woke up on day to find you were now a woman. What would you do?"
"Head out to buy some lingerie... Though I'm sure I wouldn't find fitting shoes..."
The autumn in the year 2003 began. In some ways it was the best autumn Mulder had had since the childhood. Scully was with him, the upper levels didn't pester them too much and they were happy together. They shared really everything now. The hardships they had been through together gave only the feeling of security that they never had thought possible.
The one thing that had bothered them, Krycek, had vanished somewhere.
They snatched time each day when there was decent weather and went for long walks in the parks of Washington. Mulder could have sworn that the sun had never shone so warm in September before, the leaves in the trees been so brightly coloured, and Scully so prone to giggle and eat ice cream.