Disclaimers in Part One
Getting there is half the fun
Come share it with me…
I've never felt homicidal tendencies towards a fuzzy, singing frog before. Another new and exciting experience. This hotel has lots of channels with plenty to choose from but I'm almost enjoying the twisted masochism involved in watching the Muppet Movie for the umpteenth time.
Krycek used our remaining cash to rent us two rooms in a nondescript Holiday Inn somewhere near Los Angeles. The rooms are on different floors as per my request.
I tried to get the fuck out of here tonight but there were no flights available until tomorrow. I made a reservation for a 9:45 flight out of LAX tomorrow morning. I should be in DC by nightfall. I don't know where Krycek's going. He hasn't told me and God knows I haven't asked.
I've been shaking for the past 3 hours. Just sitting on this bed in a pair of flannel pajamas with the thermostat set at 78 degrees, shaking like a leaf. I would think maybe shock, except for the fact that I'm not really shocked at all.
Why should I be shocked? Why should I even be moderately surprised? When have I ever been even a half a step ahead, even for a minute?
I should be used to crushing disappointment by now. I should be used to coming up empty at the end. Every single time.
I'm not really sure what the worst part of all this is. There are so many horrific aspects to choose from. The one that I can't escape at the moment is the utter and complete humiliation of having to return to Mulder empty handed. Not even empty, negative. I think I actually have less than I started with when I left. I don't even have the moral highground anymore. I can believe whatever I want to believe about Diana, about how he's being played for a fool, about how his lack of unconditional faith in anything but his blessed aliens is ruining us but the truth is, I've got no proof to back up any of it. I still don't know anything other than the meager scraps of information Krycek has dished out and who knows the truth from the lies with that…that…fucker. For all I know this entire trip could have been nothing more than an amusing little diversion for him. Stupid fucker. I've been just as big a fool in trusting him as Mulder has been in trusting Diana. No, even bigger. At least Mulder has a reason, a precedent.
At least Mulder didn't throw himself at Diana in a drunken, miserable frenzy. Not as far as I know anyway. How in God's name did we end up here Mulder? How do we get back?
I guess I know a good way to start.
My fingers are trembling violently as punch the numbers I know so well into the phone beside the bed. Please Mulder, don't hate me. Please try to understand. Please try to accept me as I am, with nothing to offer other than myself. Please…
"Hello?"
My throat constricts and I am temporarily mute.
"Hello? Is there someone there?"
"I…is Mulder there?"
"Oh my God! Scully is that you?"
"Can I…Can I talk to Mulder please."
"He's um…he's in the shower Scully."
"Will you…will you tell him I'm all right please?"
"Of course. Of course I will. Can I tell him where you are Scully?"
"How could you when I haven't told you yet?"
"Well, I just meant…"
"Tell him I'm fine. Tell him I'll see him tomorrow. Goodbye Diana."
I hang up the phone with an almost preternatural calm. And I feel eerily like I am being watched, listened to, analyzed. I feel as though the tethers holding me to reality, to this planet, are almost worn through, that I'm going to float away at any moment. Is this what a nervous break down feels like?
Just when I think things couldn't possibly get any worse there's a knock at my door. It could only be one person.
"Go away."
"Aw, come on Scully. Don't be like that."
"Fuck off."
"Scully, it's our last night. Be nice."
Be nice. Be nice? NICE?
"Go to hell."
"I'm not leaving until you let me in."
"Well then I hope you brought a blanket cause you're gonna be sleeping out there tonight."
"You think I can't get through this lock in less than five minutes Scully?"
"Shut the hell up!"
I think that was my neighbor. God, it must be almost two in the morning.
"Go to hell!"
Oh brother. If I don't let him in we're gonna have an international incident on our hands.
I throw open the door to his idiotic, grinning face and he saunters past me and parks his ass in the chair by the window.
"What the hell do you want Krycek?"
"I dunno Scully, some sympathy maybe."
"Call Oprah."
"Scully come on, you think I'm happy about this? You think this is the way I wanted things to turn out? I was trying to help you. Do you have any idea what I risked in all this? Jesus Scully, I'll probably be dead within a week."
"Is that supposed to make me cry?"
Sadly enough though, I think it would. I crawl back onto the bed and draw my knees up to my chest, wondering why it's so much easier to forgive people when you've got nothing left to lose.
"It wasn't a total waste Scully. You got a new dress anyway."
"Krycek…God, where did you come from?"
I don't really know what I mean by that. I guess it was kind of hypothetical. But he answers, "Queens" and I smile. He smiles back and reaches into the pocket of his jeans. He takes out a little plastic bag filled with what looks like about ten joints. He puts the bag on the table and takes one of them out.
"Where did you…nevermind. I don't wanna know."
"No, you definitely don't."
He brings the marijuana cigarette to his lips and lights it and I get up and open the window. Then I go to the bathroom and get a bunch of towels to stuff under the door. He watches me with a bemused smirk and I shrug.
"Paranoid much Scully?"
"Yeah well, the last thing we need is to get busted for possession and hauled off to the LA County Jail."
I sit down across from him at the round, reading table and watch him take a long, deep hit. The last time I did this was probably in my fucking dorm room at the University. I've never really felt the need since then. Tonight it seems disturbingly appropriate. I already feel like I'm tripping for Christ's sake. What's a little pot gonna do?
He doesn't seem to get the picture though, just keeps taking hits and staring out the window somewhat despondently.
"Well are you gonna offer me some of that or should I start my own?" I ask, already reaching for the plastic bag. He smacks my hand away and passes me the joint.
"I never would have thought, Special Agent, Doctor Scully. This is still against the law for some reason ya know."
"Krycek, I wouldn't be surprised if being in the same room with you was against the law."
"It's against your law isn't it Scully? In fact it violates every principle you thought you had doesn't it?"
Principle? Who needs a principle when you lose the whole fucking school? This strikes me as stupendously deep and meaningful, a sure sign that the first hit was enough to send me right into stoner-hell.
"Are you really from Queens?"
I can't help but snort even as I ask. It seems like such a mundane place for Alex Krycek, International Man of Mystery, to have been born.
"Yeah, wasso' funny about dat lady?"
Wow, he does that better than he should. Better than he would if he hadn't at least visited Queens. Well, you've gotta search for the kernel's of truth sometimes.
"Seriously, you did? I mean were? I mean…wait, what did I ask you again?"
Fuck. I'm a goner.
"I'm from Queens Scully. I was born there. I grew up there. That's what you asked me." He leans over and knocks on my head with his prosthetic hand. "Anybody in there?"
I swat it away because it seems very disturbing.
"Krycek, what was your mother like?"
"My mother Scully?" He laughs and takes another hit. When he passes it back to me I almost decline. But hey, if I'm gonna go down, why not go in style?
"My mother is a saint Scully."
"She's still alive?"
I can't help the fact that my jaw is gaping open at this revelation. Krycek just always seemed like an orphan to me.
"Of course she's still alive. If she wasn't then they wouldn't have anything…I mean, it's not like I worry about myself too much anymore."
Oh Jesus. Those motherfuckers.
"She raised me pretty much on her own. My dad was in the military and we didn't see him too often. It was…well, you know what that's like."
In the military? I seem to remember Mulder telling me something about Krycek's parents being Cold War immigrants from Russia. I can't really imagine the US military letting a Russian into the ranks in the middle of the Cold War. Even I am coherent enough to see the inconsistencies in that story. Two tales told, both catered to please the person listening. Which is the lie? Both?
"Which military?"
"Excuse me?"
"Which military Krycek?"
"Ours Scully. US Army. A general in fact. He had really high expectations for me. Really drummed the old patriot tune into my head. Wanted me to be a freedom fighter or some shit. I did a good job huh?"
"Stop lying."
Damn him. Damn him to hell.
"I'm telling you the truth Scully."
"Shut up."
"Scully…"
"Just stop it! I don't wanna hear anymore."
"What is it about this that bothers you so much Scully? Is it the fact that you're not sure whether I'm telling you the truth or is it the fact that you're pretty sure I am telling the truth and that scares you? Does it scare you Scully? Does it frighten you that you could be me?"
"I could never be you. I could never sell my soul the way you have."
He snickers.
"Haven't you Scully? Didn't you do that a long time ago? You think you're fighting the good fight Scully? Well I'll tell you something, sometimes you are, and sometimes you aren't. No matter what you're always playing their game. The only way out of that one is death. So while you're sitting there scoffing at my lack of morals just ask yourself what you might have been if they had planned things differently for you. You got lucky Scully. You got to be the martyr. You got to be his savior and his downfall. It could have been so different."
The brutality and the truth of his words seeps into my bones and I shudder. It doesn't matter if his parents were Russian emigrants, Brooklyn military generals or ma and pa Kettle. He wanted to serve his country. I'm beginning to think that's one of the worst morals a parent can teach a child. Oh Dad, I'm trying. So hard.
"So Scully, what don't I know about you? Now that you know the truth about me."
"That's the truth about you Krycek? Pretty short story."
"Well it's a beginning anyway. I'm not gonna spill all the beans before you tell me anything."
"What do you want to know exactly?"
"I dunno, anything that I don't know already."
"I don't think there is anything like that. You already know it all. You and your buddies…"
"I don't have any "buddies" and I sure as hell don't know everything Scully. Come on, there must be something you've kept from me, from everyone."
What constitutes a secret to a man whose fucking name is probably a secret?
"Well I already told you about Billy Venuti and the confessional blow job. What more could you want to know?"
"Alright then, lemme ask you something, give you a scenario. Would you rather…"
"Oh not this game Krycek."
He starts giggling a little bit and I notice his eyes getting redder and more dilated. He must be even more far gone than me if he wants to play this shit. And did I mention that he's GIGGLING now? Talk about bipolar.
"Come on Scully, it'll be fun."
"Alright. Would I rather…play this game with you or pull my eyebrows out one by one? Hmmm…"
"Scully, come on."
"Whatever. Ask away. Better than listening to your sorry life story."
I feel so light. Just floating away…
"Would you rather stand naked on the mall singing the theme song to Oklahoma or blow Walter Skinner?"
*************************
I expect her to punch me. Or at least blush. But she just rolls her eyes.
"Oh please. Is that supposed to be a difficult choice?"
"I just want your honest answer Scully."
She goes to bring the joint to her lips but it's burnt down to almost nothing. I grab it from her fingers and it takes her a minute to realize it's not there. When she does she looks momentarily panicked until I light a new one and place it in her hand.
"So, what's the verdict?"
"Huh? Oh, we're still on that stupid question? Alright, Skinner then."
"Really?"
Bleck. A not so pretty image just popped into my head and I'm just stoned enough that it almost seems real.
"Yeah of course, I mean come on."
"You'd really?"
"Wouldn't you?"
An even worse mental image appears.
"But Scully he's so…"
"It'd be over in like fifteen seconds. The naked thing would take forever and I'd be really cold."
"But Scully…"
"Jesus, I've touched plenty worse things with my mouth before Krycek. Those forks at Bub's, where do you think they've been?"
"God Scully, I'm almost sorry I asked you that question."
Make it go away Mommy. I'm getting the heebie geebies. God, I can't believe that choice was so fucking easy for her.
"Sorry? Well it was your stupid idea."
"Yeah. But now…I dunno Scully, as beautiful as it would be to see you giving head, this Skinner thing is not an image I particularly wanted to conger. Especially in this state."
"Well, just put somebody more attractive on the head. That's what I'd do."
"Well, it sounds like you've got some experience in this area, giving pointers and all."
Whose head would you give him Scully? Do I even want to think about it?
"Pointers? I was just trying to make the picture prettier for you."
Prettier. Yeah, someone more attractive. Hey, here's a thought. How about me Scully? Yeah, that's a much better picture. Oh Jesus. Much better.
Shit. I thought this was over for the night. How many times have I jerked off since we got back to the hotel now?
"Scully, that just brings up another problem…"
"But if you want some pointers Krycek, I can give you those too, although I trust if the situation ever came up, you'd know what to do."
"Yes," I nod absently, barely hearing the words she speaks. All I can see right now is that flaming halo bobbing up and down in my lap. Then I realize what she just said.
"Hey wait. What's that supposed to mean?"
"Krycek, if you want the God's honest truth, I think you'd be able to fuck the life out of just about anyone to get something you wanted."
Well, I guess there's no point in playing this game with her. She knows me damn well enough already.
"But that's another story for another day. Now, what were you saying about your picture problem?"
What's that look? Why is she looking at me like that? Oh Christ, I've gotta get out of here.
"There's more problems than just a picture Scully. But that's another story for another day too."
"No, that's today's story!" she announces loudly and starts laughing for some unknown reason.
"What?"
What is she talking about? Is she talking about what I'm thinking about? Is she thinking about it too? Is she propositioning me?
"Would you rather have Skinner or Spender fuck you up the ass Alex? Would you rather talk about that or your problem?"
What the fuck is she talking about? What does that even mean? Is she trying to turn me off now? Was she trying to turn me on in the first place or was it all an accident? Christ, I hate smoking dope. Why do I always forget how paranoid it makes me? Paranoid and confused.
"Uhhh…" is all I can muster in way of a response. Uhhh and uhhh and uhhh some more. I don't even know what she's asking me anymore.
"Aren't you glad we decided to play this game Krycek?"
What does that mean?? I can't read her face at all. It's partially obscured by smoke for one thing. And for another thing…
Yeah, well, anyway.
"Uhh, Scully, I don't…I don't know what…"
"Stay with me here Krycek."
She snaps her fingers in front of my face. God she's sitting so close to me. This table is so small. I can smell her.
"What…what are you suggesting? I mean…are you? I mean…"
"Krycek what the hell are you babbling about? I'm not suggesting anything. It's a question. Do you want to talk about your picture problem or do you wanna answer the question? Which would you rather do?"
"I think I'm gonna…go now."
Air. I need air. And a nice safe fist. My fist doesn't love anybody but me.
"Krycek, you're a lame ass. This was your stupid idea and now you don't even wanna play."
"It's not that exactly. I…I need…you don't…"
Shit. I can't even really stand up. Those lips, her lips come into focus finally and she is frowning in a bewildered way. I can see them, wet and swollen, wrapped around my cock…
"Well, what the fuck Krycek? Are you gonna barf or something? Why is your face flushed? God, you look ill."
"I should go."
"I'm sorry. Stop picturing Skinner buttfucking you okay. It's all a dream. Not real."
She waves her hands around and goes doodle doodle doodle, like on Wayne's World. Yeah Scully, that's just what I'm thinking about too.
"Scully are you fucking blind or are you just screwing with my head?"
"What? What the hell is your problem?"
Jesus fucking Christ. I can't take it anymore. I grab her hand in mid air and ram it under the table and right onto my dick.
"This. This is my fucking problem you fucking psycho!"
Oh man. I should not have done that either. I shove her hand away before the urge to rut into her palm becomes completely overwhelming. She squeezes the same hand into a fist and then releases the fingers one by one, staring at the whole process, completely entranced. Why did I get pot? What the hell is wrong with Vodka, Alex? Or coke? God, anything but pot.
"Krycek, I don't understand. You were so skeeved out before…"
"Not once I put myself in Skinner's place Scully."
"Oh…"
Hmm, yeah. Oh. We stare at each other for a few silent moments until the tension starts to feel like a thick layer of cotton, hanging over us, threatening to suffocate. I've really gotta go now.
"Yeah, I guess I should have known when I said someone more attractive that you'd immediately think of yourself."
"You're such a fucking bitch."
God, she really is. Like nails on the blackboard of my soul. Wow, I should write that down.
"Krycek don't feel too bad. It would only be what, 10, 15 seconds of pleasure and then it would be over. What would be the point?"
"What?"
Okay, now I'm starting to get offended.
"Are you saying I'd only beat Skinner by a lousy 10 seconds?"
"Actually I think Skinner might beat you out now that I think about it. He's a lot older. Stamina increases with age up to a point."
This from the woman who came from five minutes of making out in a parking lot.
"You have no idea what you're talking about woman."
"What are you Krycek? 26? 27? You'd probably blow your load before I even got it in my mouth."
Oh God. Got it in my mouth? Way to take a conversation too far Scully. I don't think I'll ever be able to get that phrase out of my head.
"I give you two minutes at the absolute most. You'd probably be crying by then if you weren't finished yet."
"Crying Scully? What the hell makes you think you're so good at it anyway? You'd probably start complaining about your fucking jaw before then anyway."
I mean really. Crying? I've gotten sucked off by people who probably went to school for it for crying out loud.
"Experience. Plus I like it which always makes it better. And anyway, it's not so much the fact that I'm good at it as the fact that you're a spaz."
"A what? A sp…"
"And don't flatter yourself about my jaw Krycek, I've seen it and ya know, well…let's just say I'm pretty sure I could handle it."
"Spaz?"
She laughs out loud. Way out loud. And slams her hand on the table. A regular riot huh? I'll show you a spaz you fucking tease. Jesus.
"Alright Scully, you wanna put your money where your mouth is?"
"Oh man. Booooo." She gives two thumbs down and shakes her head violently. "Booooo hssssss, where are my rotten tomatoes? Get this guy off the stage!"
"I'm serious Scully. I can go at least ten minutes."
"Wait, I'm still recovering from the pun. Oh my God. You ARE serious aren't you. You're a real fuck head Krycek. What is this like a bet?"
"Yeah. A bet. A test of endurance."
She's biting her lip and it looks like she's actually considering it. I shouldn't be surprised. Scully would never back down from a challenge. I shouldn't be but I am. And more than a little thrilled. The reasoning behind my stopping her the other night just don't apply here. A blow job is something in a class by itself. This situation isn't likely to engender any feelings beyond an almost sibling like rivalry in her. And as for me, I'm so beyond where I wanted to be, it's not like it's gonna make a difference.
"I've heard of some pathetic ways to get a blow job Krycek. This takes the cake."
"It's not about the blow job Scully. It's the principals involved."
She raises both eyebrows at that one. Wow, a double arch. Like MacDonalds. Mmmm, MacDonalds. We're gonna have to get some chow after this.
"Anyway, you've wanted to for awhile now. Here's your chance. No strings attached and nobody has to know."
"Krycek, the ego, the sheer gall of that statement is astounding."
"True though huh?"
Yeah, she's turning red. I think. God, I hope so. It's getting more and more difficult to tell what's real, what I'm actually saying as opposed to just thinking, what she's really saying as opposed to what I wish she would say. I really hope this shit isn't laced with acid or something cause if I wake up and find out this was all a hallucination, I'm gonna be pissed.
"Okay Scully, last chance. If you back down now, I win."
"Win what? What's the bet? If I say no am I gonna find my car missing when I get back to DC or what?"
"I guess you'll just have to take that chance huh. You never know what I might be capable of."
Alright, does this constitute coercion? Blackmail? Psychological rape? Surely she knows it's all in good fun.
"You're a sick fuck."
She stands up and walks away from the table, to the door. She locks the deadbolt and turns around to face me. I pull the chair out from under the desk and turn myself directly towards her, spreading my legs so that she can see what's waiting for her.
"Alright Krycek, you last longer than five minutes and you win. Less than five minutes and I win. Exactly five and it's a draw."
Jesus, she's taking off her watch and setting the timer.
"Starting from the first moment my lips touch your dick, ending with the first ejaculatory spurt."
Motherfucker. She's done this before. I feel like a slab of meat. Not that I'm complaining or anything but…Christ, she's scary.
"There are some rules you'll have to follow." She starts walking towards me and ticking them off on her fingers. "Number one; No forcing me away to avoid orgasm, no hair pulling, no pushing, kicking etcetera. Number two; no distraction techniques, for example, telling a really bad joke so I'll laugh and have to spit you out for a second. No asking questions. Number three; there will be absolutely no swallowing. When you're gonna come you damn well let me know. I don't know where the fuck you've been and I don't want your fluids mixing with mine."
I fall against the back of the chair and clutch my heart dramatically. "You're such a romantic Dana darling."
She holds her hand up to her face and starts giggling, kind of ruining the whole effect she was going for.
"Now get over here and suck my cock."
"Oh, you know all the right things to say, don't you."
She stands in front of me, still holding that damn watch, looking at my face with a disgust bordering on lust. I want to kiss her again. Even worse than before. I want to pull her into my lap and kiss her for hours, to throw her on top of this table and bury my head between her legs for hours after that, to fuck her until she faints. I guess some might call me an ingrate. A blow job is great and all. Again, I'm not complaining. I just wish it could be more. But I know if I even made a move to kiss her, even to touch her at all really, she would recoil and this whole thing would be over. I gave up my chance to do that already.
"You're really deranged aren't you Krycek?"
Those are her last words before she kneels on the floor between my legs. She starts popping open the buttons on my fly and finally I feel the cool air hitting my claustrophobic dick. She pulls my jeans down around my ankles and the relative intimacy of the act surprises me. I would have thought she'd have wanted me to keep my pants on. I guess she did it out of courtesy more than anything else. No swallowing means messy Krycek and who wants semen crusted jeans.
Jesus. She's really gonna do this.
I feel her hand on my leg, her thumb tracing small circles on my inner thigh and bite back a moan. Gotta be cool here. Let her know who's boss. Right.
"Scully are you running the timer now?"
"I haven't started yet Krycek. Sheesh."
"Yeah but…"
I hear a beep as she presses the start button on her watch at exactly the same moment as I feel the tip of her tongue run lightly up the underside of my cock. Just a whisper of a touch but enough to make me slump down in the chair with a groan. She licks me again, from the base all the way up the shaft, over the ridge and the head, with the flat of her tongue this time. A more solid, powerful touch. I bite the inside of my mouth and grip the two back legs of the chair.
How many minutes is that? Shit.
When she swirls her tongue around the the head and takes the very tip between her lips, I have to look down. I watch her fat lips sliding down, down, down, so achingly slow, and it's almost too much already. She's really fucking doing this!
*************************
Okay, I have to admit, I feel more than a little vindicated right now. Once I start to really get going I just have to watch him. I look up and see that he's looking right back down, his eyes wide and mouth agape as he stares at me in shock. His breath is already catching in his throat and I feel his body tensing up. Yeah, this is gonna be over real soon.
This is really fucked up. I've done this for a lot of odd reasons but never quite this odd. It all just seems so far away, like I'm watching it happen on television or something. The only reality I can feel is a desperate need to prove myself. To who? Krycek? I doubt it. Myself? Probably. But honestly, the person I'm really trying to impress isn't even here.
Yeah Dana, you're such a rebel, so cool, so sexy, you really know how to drive them crazy right?
Well, apparently at least one person thinks so.
"Oh fuck, yeah," he grunts as he jerks into my mouth. His knuckles are turning white. I start to move a little faster, up and down, in and out, and put my hands on his thighs again. I run my thumbs lightly over his balls and he whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut.
So far I've only been letting him about 3/4 of the way in but I think it's time to go for broke. I relax my throat and on the next downward stroke, take all of him. I stop moving for a second and tighten around him.
"Jesus, your mouth is so hot."
Like the caverns of hell Alex.
He makes another pathetic sound and starts twitching anxiously so I start moving again. Faster this time and using my tongue to flick along his heated flesh as I go.
He's stopped watching and now his head is against the back of the chair, tossing to and fro and I can almost hear his thoughts. Don't come yet, not yet, not yet.
His legs are trembling under my hands and his balls are getting tighter and tighter as I continue to stroke them in gentle, smooth circles. His cock is throbbing and huge, seeming to grow with every second that passes.
I glance at the watch on the floor and smile around him. 2 and a half minutes. This thing is as good as won.
Competitive much Dana? I'm sure my shrink would have lots to say about this little wager.
Fuck her. I don't care what it says about my mental state, I'm psyched.
"Shit….oh shit, Scully…"
Suddenly and pretty much randomly, in typical spaz fashion, his hands fly off the seat and clutch at the back of my head. At first I think he's going to violate rule number one and try to hold me still in order to prolong orgasm. But he doesn't. He actually slams me down farther and starts jerking into my mouth. No, we're obviously going for rule number three.
I try to pull away but I can't get out of his death grip and he pounds into me. I feel him expand further and he lets out a mighty bellow and then he's spewing into my mouth. Fuck head.
I don't swallow but I don't spit it out either.
I hit the off button on the timer, a little bit too late but it's still a winner. His arms finally go limp and drop to his sides. I slip him out of my mouth and pull back. He looks like a deflated balloon, collapsed in the chair, panting and sweaty.
I stand up and put my arms on the sides of the chair, leaning in towards him. His eyes pop open and he regards me curiously. Pucker up sweetie. A smile of recognition and excitement fades into an open mouthed invitation and I move in to accept. I almost feel bad. He really looked almost giddy about the prospect of kissing me again. Too bad he had to be such a shit.
Our lips meet for the briefest of moments before I spit the contents of my mouth directly into his.
I pull away and watch him gag and choke and drool his own spooge down his chin with a satisfied smirk.
"What the…what the fuh..fucking bitch." He's still panting and now that his mouth's full too he seems to be having some difficulty speaking clearly.
"You broke the rules Alex. That wasn't very nice."
"Jesus. Bitch."
"Well, now you know how you taste, maybe you'll be a little more considerate towards the next unfortunate soul."
He shakes his head and wipes his mouth with his sleeve.
"3 minutes 15 seconds."
"Wha…"
"3 minutes, 15 seconds."
"Lemme see that."
He grabs the watch out of my hand and regards it with disdain.
"I think you cheated. That was at least five minutes."
"Please Alex, don't be petty. It's not very becoming. You know, it might have been five minutes if you hadn't grabbed my head and started ramrodding me."
"Yeah yeah. Look, I'm sorry okay. I just…it was just…God Scully, you really are good at that. You win okay. Take whatever you want."
"First of all I want you to put your pants back on. Then I want you to order us a pizza. And then I'll start thinking about my real prize."
What in the world could I possibly ask of him? What could he possibly give me?
"Hey, if you don't have any ideas…how about reciprocation?" he asks me with an annoying wink.
"No Krycek, I won, remember."
"Ha ha. You're funny. Seriously Scully, I'll bet I could get you off in less than five minutes."
"That's not gonna work this time. Go get me a pizza while I think about this."
He pulls his pants on and goes to the cabinet beside the bed to look for a phone book and I sit back in the chair I was in before. Nothing abnormal here right? What's a little fallatio between friends after all.
I reach into the bag and take out what will be our fourth joint of the evening and light it.
"Want a hit?"
I hold it out to him and he wrinkles his nose in disgust.
"Scully, I can't feel my fingers and toes after that. The last thing I need is more dope."
"Wuss."
He stands there and watches me light and inhale.
"He should know about you."
"What? Who?"
"Mulder. He…God, if I were him I'd wanna know."
Oh God, he's gonna tell Mulder. He's gonna tell Mulder I cheated on him. Cheated? That's not really true. How is it possible to cheat when…God, the semantics don't matter. It would kill him either way.
"You fucker! Don't you fucking dare. I'll kill you, you bastard, I swear to God."
"Scully, hey, calm down. I'm not doing anything. All I mean is if I had a partner who could suck dick like that, I'd wanna know about it. That's all. God, go take your meds or something."
I take a deep breath and then let it out. Just a compliment. Well, sort of. Nothing to lose your shit about Dana. He wouldn't tell Mulder about all this. Would he? Mulder wouldn't understand. He would see it so differently than it is. You'd have to be completely around the bend to see it the way it is.
"Scully, don't freak out okay. As far as I'm concerned this never happened. Any of it. I'm real good at keeping secrets."
Secrets. More secrets. I don't want to have secrets. Not from Mulder. God, I feel like crying again. When did I turn into such a twit?
Krycek orders us a pizza and I start to feel moderately better at the prospect of food. Then he sits back down in his chair and takes a hit.
"Scully, I'm sorry. This was a stupid idea."
"No, no it's fine."
"It's not. You're face, you're as white as a ghost. I'm sorry."
Maybe we are the bipolar twins. Is this what comes out of growing up in a military family? Schizophrenia? Manic depressive disorder?
God I miss Mulder.
A sudden and quite loud noise causes us both to jump in our seats.
"Oh my God. Was that the door?"
"I think it's too early for the pizza Scully."
God, it's getting louder. A pounding. In my head. It's almost as if death itself, or maybe reality, was outside, trying to bust in on our little party. God, we're going to die. I'm going to die.
"Krycek, what if it's the cops. Narcs. Oh my God."
Ridiculously I throw our lit joint out the window, grab the bag and shove the rest of the stuff under my ass. Throwing the whole bag out the window doesn't occur to me for some unknown reason.
Pound, crash, bang. Make it stop. Oh please make it stop.
"Scully I'm gonna go get it. It's probably just…"
"No!" I grab his arm and force him to remain seated. "Don't go. It's…no…stay here. It'll go away. Just stay here."
"Scully, you're shaking. Jesus, calm dow…"
The door breaks open and all I see for a moment is a blinding white light. I had all but one lamp turned off in here and the flourescents from the hallway seem unnaturally strong. So much light. Maybe it's not death. Maybe it's God.
Slowly vision returns and a silhouette becomes clear in the doorway. Hand on the knob, holding the part of the door that broke off, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights. It's not Death. And it's not God. It's just Mulder.
I feel laughter bubbling in my chest. I know that it's wrong, that laughing is the last thing I should be doing right now but there's something unavoidably funny about the whole thing. Especially since Diana is standing there with him, looking back and forth between him and me.
Don't laugh Scully, don't laugh. But of course, I do. And once I start I just can't stop. Tears fall into my eyes, blinding me. That's how hard I laugh.
Until I look at his face. What I see there, it frightens me beyond anything I've ever felt. I stand on shaking legs and hold out my hands as some kind of surrender.
"Mulder…don't…"
But it's too late. He's across the room before I can stop it. He's too far gone to even here me call his name again when he tackles Krycek right out of that chair and up against the wall. He has Krycek's shirt in his fists. It seems to be in slow motion but at the same time preternaturally fast.
Oh God. Oh my God. They're both going to die.
"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Mulder hollars, validating my hypothesis. He's shaking Krycek and Krycek looks pretty damn terrified. Mulder looks…Mulder looks really gone. His face is bright red and all the veins on his head are popping out. He broke the chair.
"DID YOU TOUCH HER? DON'T EVEN FUCKING LIE TO ME KRYCEK!"
Please stop. Please stop. I need to stop them. But I can't. I can't even speak. I can't move.
Krycek grabs Mulder's arms and shoves him away.
"Get the fuck off me you psychopath!"
"GET OFF YOU? YOU WANT ME TO GET OFF YOU? I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU YOU COCKSUCKER!"
It's so loud. It's all so loud and I'm so very quiet. How do I get my voice back? I'm going to die.
"You don't even know what's going on here Mulder. Just calm the fuck down so we can…"
"You touched her didn't you? DIDN'T YOU? ANSWER ME MOTHERFUCKER!"
"What the hell Mulder? I think she can speak for herself."
No I can't. I can't say anything. I try to scream but nothing comes out.
"She's not your property Mulder. She…"
Mulder's fist makes a loud popping sound when it makes contact with Krycek's jaw.
"Shut up! Just shut up you fucker! Don't even talk to me about her!"
And again. Again. Make it stop. I can't make it stop. I look to the door for help. Maybe Diana can make them stop. She's not even looking at them though. She's looking right back at me. Oh God. What's happening? What's happening?
"Is this helping you Mulder? You feel any better? Easier than actually communicating?"
Krycek stop. Stop talking. Just stop.
"You had no right! NO RIGHT!!"
Mulder punches him again, in the gut this time, and I think he's starting to cry.
"No fucking right! Not yours!"
He backs Krycek against the wall again and his hands work their way around his throat.
"NOT YOURS!"
Not yours? Oh God, he's finally really lost it. Krycek tries to pry Mulder's arms off him but to no avail.
"She's not a thing Mulder. Jesus!"
"Shut up! SHUT UP! God I hate you so much Krycek. I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!"
He's turning blue. He's going to die. Mulder. Mulder stop.
"Mmm…" is all I manage to get out. It's so quiet that no one hears. I look to Diana again, desperate at this point. She's gone though. Gone to die. We're all going to die tonight.
Krycek finally gives up on talking and kicks Mulder in the gut. Mulder stumbles backwards and then lunges forwards. He knocks Krycek into the table which goes flying over and hits my leg. It should hurt. I think.
There are no more angry words now. Just flying fists and projectile furniture. My face is splattered with blood and tissue. I don't know whose it is.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
"Stop. Stop. Stop. STOP IT! STOP! STOP!"
I sink to my knees and open my mouth as wide as I can. The scream starts in my gut and pushes through my larynx, finally, finally it comes out of me. A bloodcurdling, deafening scream. An endless scream.
I feel arms around me and I still scream. I feel a body around me, pulling me onto a lap, whispering into my hair.
"Shh, it's okay. It's okay Scully."
I'm drowning, sinking, pulled into a swirling tidal mass. Under and under, further and further. I clutch at his shirt which is now torn and bloody.
"Don't go. Don't let me go. Don't let me go!"
"I'm right here. You're not going anywhere. Shhh."
I feel his tears and his blood dripping onto my hair and my face.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry…God…so sorry. I can't…I can't…"
"Shh, it's okay. I'm right here."
"God Mulder. Don't let me go."
*************************
I could have killed him. I could have taken the gun out of my jacket pocket and shot him in the back when he turned away from me. When he went to her. It would have been so easy.
Shit. Fucking shit.
I want to stay here. I want to be the one comforting her. I want to tell her I'm here, that I'm not going anywhere either. I want to at least stick around long enough to tell Mulder what I think of his sorry ass. But I don't belong here. And if I stay here any longer, watching him cradle her in his lap and stroke her hair I'm gonna cry. And I do not cry. Ever.
So I stagger out of the room, closing what's left of the door behind me and make my way to the elevator. I push the down button. I need to get the hell out of this hotel. Right now.
"Fucking idiot."
I don't know who I'm talking about. Mulder? Myself? Both of us. We're both fucking idiots. This wasn't supposed to happen. Dammit. It wasn't.
The elevator has mirrored walls and I wince when I see myself. Broken nose. Great. I look like Mulder. Two black eyes now, one from Mulder and one from Scully from before. A fat lip. Torn clothing. And worst of all, tears. Running down my cheeks and mixing with the blood of a thousand wounds.
I lean against the wall for support and curse my own reflection. No one to blame but myself. I wish I could blame him. But I knew, I knew going in what I was dealing with.
"I'm sorry Scully."
The elevator doors slide open and who should just happen to be standing in front of them, unharmed and armed? The total lack of justice in the fact that Diana is the only one without injury here is sickening.
"Any last words Krycek?"
"Yeah. Yeah. Tell her that Joey loved her."
*************************
Life is a highway I suppose. At least mine seems to be.
Mulder is driving us to the airport. Gotta catch that old 9:45. His hands are white on the steering wheel. I told him what we were trying to do, why Krycek took me, last night. He didn't give much of a response but I know he believes me. I woke up on his lap this morning. I told him about the flight. He just nodded and stood up. On his way out the door he turned to me and said, "You know something, I never expected to have to come running across the country looking for you. To end up having to drag you home like an errant child." Then he left. All I could think was welcome to my life Mulder. He hasn't spoken to me since then. There is no music playing.
I can't stand the silence. I can't stand the cold.
"Mulder, I don't understand why you're so angry," I finally blurt out ridiculously. All I know is we need to start talking. Fast.
He doesn't talk though. Still. He reaches behind my seat and gropes around for a minute, his eyes never leaving the road. When he finds what he's looking for he drops it onto my lap. It's a picture. A picture of my and Krycek. A picture of me grabbing Krycek's dick. I turn it over quickly and open my window. I think I might throw up.
My mouth is dry and cracked. I don't know if I can talk now either.
"Oh…Mulder, God I…how…where did you…"
"So they're real."
"Well…yes."
He nods and starts driving faster.
"I thought…I thought that maybe somebody was fucking with my head. Someone besides you that is."
"Mulder I…I was drunk. Very, very drunk." This is probably the lamest thing I have ever said. I don't know how else to explain it though. It's the truth.
"Oh that's nice Scully. Really, great."
"Alright then, you wanna know WHY I was drunk?"
"Lemme take a guess here and say that you had too much to drink."
Goddamit. Why should I have to explain this to him anyway? What am I Mulder, your wife? Wife without conjugal privileges?
"Scully how…God, with…him. How could you?"
"I got drunk Mulder, because I was depressed, okay? I was thinking about you. As usual. About things that were said, things that weren't said, the way things were so goddamn messed up between us and the fact that you didn't seem to care and I was hurting. I know you don't seem to think that's possible but believe it or not Mulder, I am a human being with real life feelings."
"Why HIM?" His voice is raising and he's driving like a lunatic now.
"Because he was there Mulder. He listened to me. He wanted me."
"God Scully, I can't even believe you'd let yourself get into that kind of state with that…that…God. How could you do that? You might as well be fucking the whole goddamn consortium Scully."
"Mulder nothing really happened. If that makes you feel any better. I mean we didn't actually go through with it. He wouldn't let me do that to myself."
"Wait a minute. Wait. You're saying that you WANTED to fuck him? That HE stopped YOU? Is that what you're telling me here?"
It sounds pretty damned bad when he says it like that. But it's the truth. I can't even look at him anymore. I think I'm gonna fall to pieces. I stare out the window.
"That's beautiful Scully. Really. Fucking choice. What a gentleman. Remind me to send him a Christmas card this year."
"I don't really know what you want me to say here."
"I WANNA KNOW WHY?"
I jump at the level his voice has raised to. I don't think he's ever yelled at me like that. Ever.
"WHY SCULLY? WHY HIM? WHY?"
His voice cracks and tears start flowing down his cheeks. He slams his fist against the steering wheel.
"Why not me Scully? Why does he get that? Why don't I get that? What do I have to do? Kidnap you?"
"I told you why Mulder," I practically whisper. "He wanted me. That's more than I can say about most people I've known. More than I can say about you."
"Jesus Scully! How can you say that? How can you THINK that?"
"Because I'm not her. You told me so yourself."
"Oh Scully. Fucking Christ. Is that what this is about? One fucking stupid comment? You don't believe anything else I say but you believe that shit?"
"Mulder it's not just one comment…"
"I thought you made this choice Scully. I told you to leave me if you needed to. You chose me. YOU CHOSE ME!"
Holy mother of God. We're gonna get into an accident.
"I chose to stay with you, to work beside you, as your equal. Not to be controlled by you. Not to just nod and smile at every crazy notion that flies out of your mouth. I believe in you, I believe in the work, that's why I stayed. But I don't think you believe in me anymore Mulder."
"You know how I feel. You chose to stay knowing everything that's inside me Scully. And now you wanna throw everything we've done and everything we have down the toilet because of one stupid conversation?"
Man, do we need communication therapy or what? It's like two different languages. I can't be here anymore.
"Stop the car Mulder."
"What?"
"Stop the car. I wanna get out."
"Scully, we're on the highway…" "STOP THE FUCKING CAR!"
He swerves out of the lane and onto the grassy divider angrily. He slams on the breaks and throws the car into park and I open my door and step out into the cool morning air. And then I start walking. Maybe I'll never come back.
*************************
"Scully! Jesus what are you doing?"
She's walking towards the fucking road without a care in the world and I run towards her and grab her shoulders. I spin her around to face me. I feel like shaking her, like begging her to tell me who the hell she is and what she did with Dana Scully.
"What the hell are you doing? Trying to kill yourself? To punish me?"
"God Mulder! I told you once that not everything is about you. It's not. I'm my own person. Not just an extension of you. I've got my own thoughts and my own ideas and they're mine! Mine dammit!"
"I know that Scully. I know that. And I wouldn't want you any other way. I told you that. I thought you knew that Scully."
A huge semi rolls by and the wind gust is enough to cause her to sway. She looks like she's gonna blow right over. I wish she'd just come back to the car with me at least.
"I knew it once. Or thought I did."
"Scully, God, is this really about what I said at the office? Was that enough to contradict everything you know about me?"
She pulls her shoulders out of my grasp and walks away from the side of the road. She sits down on the hood of the car and buries her head in her hands. Oh Scully. How did we get to this awful place? How do we go back? How do we go forward?
"Scully, I'm sorry. So sorry. It was mean and thoughtless and obviously more damaging than I ever imagined. I wasn't thinking clearly. I wasn't thinking at all. I just…sometimes I just want you to believe me so badly…I can't even think straight."
I sit down next to her and sigh. I wish someone had taught me how to deal with women at some point or another in my life. Not that Scully is your typical garden variety woman. No, she's even more complicated and difficult to comprehend.
"Mulder…I want…I…"
Oh my God. Is she actually going to tell me? What she wants? What she really and truly wants? That might make this whole fucking thing worthwhile. I pull her hands from her face and look into her eyes. They're as red and sad as mine probably are.
"What? What do you want Scully? Tell me. Please."
"I just…I wanna know that…God, I can't…"
"Know what? Please Scully. Please help me out here. I'm just a stupid guy ya know. You've gotta spell it out for me. Please."
"I just…I'm so pathetic Mulder. Do you trust me Mulder?"
"Of course I do Scully. God, you KNOW that. I mean…"
I thought she did. How could she not know that?
"I can't say that I know what to expect from you anymore but yes, I trust you with everything Scully. More than I've ever trusted anyone."
Yep, after everything I still trust her with my heart even. Even though it's broken into a million shards at the moment.
"Do you want me Mulder?"
"Y…yes. I…I thought that was pretty apparent."
Guess I was wrong again. She sighs and shakes her head at me.
"Do you love me Mulder?"
Jesus Scully. You're the one that cheated on me. Shouldn't I be asking you these questions?
Cheated. That's a good one Mulder.
"I thought that was pretty apparent as well."
"Just me Mulder?"
"Just you Scully. Well, you and my mother. And Frohike on his good days."
She rolls her eyes heavenward but she smiles a little. Just a little but it's enough to make me feel like we might not break.
"I hate you Mulder."
Oh. Well okay then. Always nice to hear.
"I hate you for the way you make me feel. I hate you for the fact that I took this stupid trip with Krycek. I hate you because I got drunk and almost fucked the man you hate most in the world."
"Scully, this is starting to make less and less sense to me. Can I ask you something now?"
"I hate you because I followed that fuckhead all the way to California and now I'm sitting here on a highway median and…what Mulder? What do you need to know?"
"Do you have…feelings for him?"
I feel nauseous just asking that question. God, it makes me want to kill.
"Sure. Don't you?"
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
She looks at me and smiles and I feel like shaking her again.
"I don't love him Mulder," she says as I simultaneously ask, "Do you love him Scully?"
We both let out a sigh of relief. Thank you for small favors, Jesus Christ.
"Okay…okay so…do you trust me Scully? Or want me? Or lo…love me? I'll take any of the three. Multiple choice here."
She smiles at me with tears in her eyes.
"I mean I…I got the hate thing Scully. Loud and clear. But…"
"Mulder I think you can safely assume that you got the girl in this scenario. You always had her in fact. Whether that's what you wanted or not."
"So…so what does that mean exactly?"
She takes my hands in hers and brings them to her face, to cup her cheeks. I run my thumb over her skin where the tears have fallen.
"It means I'm here. It means that I can still give you those three things if you still want them. It means that even though we're both so scared of our feelings that we act like shits most of the time that in the end, it's always worth it to me."
I feel her beautiful and true love shining through her face and it works it's way into my heart, starts to repair the jagged shards and work them back into a whole. It hurts like hell. And it's going to for a very long time.
I wrap my arms around her and pull her against my chest and she settles into me with a sigh.
"We've got a long way to go don't we Mulder?"
"We've got a hell of a long way."
We sit in the middle of that highway divider, holding each other and crying. I see a plane fly over our head and check my watch. 9:45. I guess we missed it. Oh well. We've got a decent rental car. And a lot of traveling together ahead.
*************************
It's our anniversary. Six months ago today I kidnapped you. It seems somehow appropriate that it would happen tonight.
I took you because I wanted the work to continue. I might have failed abysmally in what I planned but in the end, I got what I wanted originally. You returned with a dogged determination the likes of which I have never seen, a fierce loyalty to Mulder, to the work, and to your beliefs. I sure as hell know that the renewed strength of your partnership with him has nothing to do with me but I like to think that you learned at least a little bit about yourself during our time together.
I've been thinking lately about the fact that you never claimed your prize from me. You never even decided what you wanted. But watching you now I think I realize why. There's nothing I could have given you. All I have to offer is myself and that is something you never would have taken.
I feel guilty watching you like this, more than ever before. Tonight is a big night though. Everybody's watching. I wish there was a way I could give you the privacy that I know you would want.
He's so gentle with you Scully. You seem to like that a lot. Can you see the worship in his eyes as clearly as I can? Can you feel it when he slips your shirt off and kneels before you, kissing your beautiful body? Do you know now Scully? Do you see what you are?
God, that lucky fuck. I know that you've been working towards this Scully, I know that it's what you've wanted. I just hope he deserves it. I hope he makes you happy finally.
I'm glad that he took you somewhere nice, although I wish he'd been more careful about surveillance. I wish they couldn't see. I wish I couldn't see.
Your fingers glide down his torso with delicate elegance, with love and lust and a million other things I will never know from you. Your bodies glow in an almost unearthly way when you embrace, naked now and finally together.
I feel my stomach twisting into an unwelcome knot and the burn of tears gathering in my throat. I bite down on the inside of my cheek and close my eyes. I can't let these bastards see me cry.
God Scully, what is it about you? You're one woman, one among billions in the world. What is it about you that makes it possible, unavoidable, for me to cry?
He lays you down on the bed, tells you that you are the most beautiful woman in the world, that there is no one else like you, no one could ever give him what you have and I see in your eyes that you finally believe him. And that the feeling is mutual. I guess that's what it is Scully. There really is no one like you.
You tell him that he makes you feel loved, special. That he is, whether he believes it or not, the most wonderful gift you've ever been given.
I'm glad I didn't let myself fuck you Scully. You don't deserve to be fucked. You deserve to be made love to, with reverence and kindness, with understanding and passion, with all the desire and most of all, the love, that a man can feel. But most importantly, you deserve all that from the man you cherish. Not just the man who happened to be there when you had a nervous breakdown.
He enters you, whispering that he is the luckiest man in the world and I nod in agreement without even realizing it. I'm happy for you Scully. Really I am. And I have to leave now.
I can't watch anymore. Not when I know what a violation you would consider it. Not when I have to stand with men who watch only to gain better knowledge of how to plot your ultimate demise. Not when seeing you move with him, become one with him, fills me with the deepest, darkest envy I've ever experienced. Not when I'm about to cry Scully.
I turn my back on the monitor and leave the room, leave you to your life, your destiny, your prize. Yes, you got your prize tonight Scully. The only prize you've ever wanted or needed. Now you go and you show him everything that you are. Show him everything that he's won tonight.
The End
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