TITLE: World Without End
(5/?)
AUTHOR: Rachel Anton
WARNING: gratuitous foul
language and drunkenness to follow.
Is this what it feels like to be drunk? It's been so long, I can barely even remember if I'm doing it right.
Roseanne came by about an hour ago with a bottle of vodka. Real, actual vodka. I have no idea where she got it or what she had to do for it but I don't really care. It's in my room and that's all that matters.
We had a horrible day at work. The power went out unexpectedly and we lost almost an entire morning's worth of research. Typical but no less infuriating for its regularity. I guess she figured we could both use some kind of cheering up.
"Do you actually wear this?"
"Huh?"
Roseanne is standing in front of my closet holding some short, red, satin tank top against her chest and thrusting her breasts into it ridiculously.
"It was in the closet when I got here."
She tosses it over to me and it hits me in the face and almost makes me drop the precious bottle onto my comforter.
"Try it on. I'll bet it'll look great."
"Yeah maybe next time we go on a raid."
She snorts and half sits, half falls onto the floor. She's definitely drunk. I'm still sober enough that wearing the stupid thing seems like a bad idea.
"You should wear it for Alex. I'm sure he'd love it. Not that he needs to see you in something like that to get all excited about you…"
Not this again. Roseanne seems to have developed some sort of fixation on my sex life, or lack thereof. It seems like every time I talk to her lately she makes some thinly veiled reference to Krycek's so-called desire for me. Now that she's drunk I guess she's dropped all the preamble and cut right to the chase. Honestly though, I don't know where the hell she's getting this from. It's ridiculous. I've become convinced that she's delusional and projecting whatever unresolved issues they have between them onto me.
"Roseanne, you're really gone." More gone than me. I enviously take a large swig from the bottle.
"No, Dana, come on. You can't tell me you don't see the way he looks at you at the meetings and stuff. The man needs a fucking bib for his drool."
"You're insane."
"You're insane if you don't see it."
"Maybe he's not drooling over me."
"Yeah, maybe it's Bryan."
"Shut up you idiot. I'm talking about you. I mean, didn't you…"
God, I must be a little tipsy to even consider asking her this. I've been wondering and had my suspicions for almost a year now but I've never been brazen enough to just come out and pry into her personal business like that. Then again, she's not exactly being subtle tonight.
"Didn't I what? Fuck him?"
Okay. Subtlety is definitely not an issue.
"Uh, well, yeah."
"Yeah I fucked him. So what does that prove. He doesn't want me anymore. He never really did anyway."
She sounds…amused. I was expecting bitterness when this topic finally rolled around but she seems to think the whole thing is funny. Or maybe she's like Mulder, laughing to cover the pain. I don't think so though.
"So um…so what, I mean…"
God, what is my problem? Either ask her or don't. I don't know why I'm so curious anyway. This whole evening is rapidly degenerating into a seventh grader's slumber party.
"What do you wanna know, Dana? I'll tell you anything you want but it's kind of irrelevant at this point."
What do I want to know? Lots of things. Too many things.
"You wanna know all the gory details?"
"Wha…no, NO! God, Roseanne. Of course not. Just…well, what happened?"
She shrugs and makes a strange, disgusted face.
"Who knows. I dunno Dana. We were pretty hot and heavy for a little bit. A bright flame that burned quickly. I guess we just ran out of heat or something. It was like one day he was boinking me in a closet and the next he was just…not. I guess he just lost interest."
Boinking her in a closet? I don't even wanna know. This is wrong anyway. I shouldn't be prying her for information when she's inebriated.
"Just randomly?"
"He just said he thought we should stop."
"He didn't give you a reason?"
"Honestly, I think he's just afraid to get too close. To anybody. If he gets close then he's vulnerable and Alex Krycek doesn't do vulnerable. But of course he needs sex so he just sort of roams aimlessly from one lover to the next. Well, that's what he used to do. Now he just jacks off I suppose…"
Afraid to get too close. That sounds frighteningly familiar. I wonder if I'll ever stop hating myself for not letting Mulder in when I had the chance. I let him get closer than anyone else in the world ever has or probably ever will but, God, it wasn't close enough. I feel a maudlin mood creeping in through the alcohol laden giddiness and run my hands over my face, trying to banish it. Then I realize Roseanne is still talking.
"…wasn't love though. I didn't love him and he didn't love me. We were friends really. Still are. I don't think I was ever stupid enough to kid myself into believing it could be anything more. Before you came I didn't think he was even capable of any kind of deep feelings for another person."
What is she talking about now? Deep feelings? Krycek doesn't have deep feelings for me. Mulder…Oh Mulder. Even after all this time, almost three years now, it's like you're still here. Inside me. It's as if our feelings were strong enough to keep some part of you alive. What would you think of all this? I try to use your judgment as well as my own but there are some things I can't possibly judge your reaction to.
"Dana? What are you thinking about?"
God, how long have I been zoning out? Sometimes it still happens. I get wrapped up in my blanket of melancholy and regression and I lose time.
"I…I dunno. I guess how strange this all is. How different from the way it was…"
"The way what was?"
"We used to be enemies. I wanted to kill him, Roseanne. He was hired to kill me and he…and Mulder…it's just all very strange."
"Things change under desperate situations."
Hasn't my life always been one desperate situation after another?
"And he's changed too, don't you think?"
"Oh, I don't know Roseanne. I didn't know him at all before. All I knew of him was what he did, the things he'd done to me. And to Mulder…"
"Dana, in this life, in this time, I don't think that stuff counts for shit. It's a brave new world out there, ya know. And we're all in the same fucked up boat. What you've gotta ask yourself is what you think of him right here, right now, regardless of all the rest."
Was that a question?
I take a swig from the bottle and try to formulate an answer in my head.
"Well, I think he's…he's a very good leader. Very determined and ruthless and that's necessary here. I think the things that made him a good criminal are serving him well…"
"DANA! I don't mean as a leader. I mean as a person. As a man."
Oh.
"I…I don't know Roseanne. He's done a lot for me. More than I ever expected. And I guess…um…he's very brave."
So brave that he's almost gotten killed more times than I care to count.
"Yeah, and…"
"And what, Roseanne?"
She rolls her eyes and looks at me like I'm some kind of mental defect.
"Dana, don't you think he's sexy?"
Sexy? God, this is going downhill fast.
"Well, he certainly seems to think so."
"Yeah well, that's one thing we never argued about."
"Roseanne, you seem like such an intelligent, strong woman. How could you let yourself be seduced by that…that…"
Pig? Womanizer? Ego-maniac?
"He's really good in bed Dana."
She snorts at the way I choke on my sip.
"Sorry, you didn't ask me that did you. Just thought it might be of interest."
Why in the world would it be of interest to me? God, what is she thinking?
"He wants you bad, Dana. I'm telling you…"
"If he does it's probably because there's no one else left. I'm the only woman in this place he hasn't fucked."
"Well, he never used to mind repeat performances. Before you got here he had a few favorites he used to kind of alternate between and…"
"God, what a fucking PIG!"
I'm not sure if it's the alcohol or what but this is really starting to piss me off. It's not like I didn't already know but this is just too much information.
"Yeah, he was. But God, Dana. God. He really is fucking amazing. It's like…it's like there's nothing else in the world but you and him fucking. He's so passionate, you just get like, knocked over by it. Like being caught up in a hurricane or something. I guess cause it's really his only release, escape or whatever. Maybe that's why he's been even more fucking uptight since you got here. He needs to get laid really bad, Dana."
Please stop talking now. This was a terrible idea. I do not want to know about this.
"Do you know we never did it in his bed. Never. Not even once. He said he hated having sex in beds. What the fuck is that about? He hardly ever even took off his clothes! God, it was so good though. Do you know that if you lick him behind the ear he like, growls?"
"No I didn't know that. Nor do I care."
"And when he comes he…"
"Roseanne! God. I don't CARE. He's a pig. A pig pig pig. Piggy pig. Stupid, conceited, overbearing…PIG!"
Great, now she's really laughing. So hard that her face is turning red and she's stomping her feet. I think she's about to fall down. When she finally regains her composure she points accusingly at me.
"You're a piece of work, Dana. You think…" she giggles again and grabs the bottle from my clutches. She almost frowns when she sees that it's almost empty. "You think you could turn him down? Is that what you think?"
"I don't think I have to worry about…"
"Put on the shirt, Dana."
"What?!"
"Put it on and go to see him and see what he does. And see what you do. I'll bet you a pack of cigarettes you end up fucking him."
Cigarettes? How does she get this shit? I wish I had her connections.
"I'm not putting this stupid thing on. Look at it. It's made for an 18 year old with fake breasts."
"What are you, scared?"
"Why the hell would I be scared?"
"Cause it might make you feel like a woman and then you'd have to admit that you are one and that you wanna get fucked."
"Fine. Whatever. I'll put on the stupid shirt!"
I yank my sweater and bra off and toss them onto the floor and pull the stupid thing over my head to the sound of Roseanne's incessant giggling.
"There. You happy now?"
"Fix your left boob," she chokes out through her hysterics. I look down and realize it's hanging out the top. The sight of it is enough to get through my little fit and I start laughing too. Could I be any more ridiculous?
We must both be trashed if we think this is in any way amusing. A scrawny red head in a slutty shirt. What a riot. But for some reason, it is. Maybe we just need to laugh at something. I no longer care about the fact that we're acting like a couple of teenagers. It feels so nice to just let go for a change.
God, it's been ages since I laughed. Years I think. And laugh we do. For a long time. Until we hear a very loud and insistent pounding on the door. Before I can get myself off the bed to answer, it bursts open to reveal a very angry looking individual. For a minute I'm scared. Then I realize it's Krycek, just standing there like an idiot, panting and gaping at us and I start laughing again.
*************************
To say that this is not what I expected to find would be a vast understatement. First of all, when I came down here looking for Scully to talk about the meeting tomorrow, I expected Bryan to be sitting outside her door like he usually does. He wasn't. I expected to hear, well, silence I guess behind Scully's door. I heard what sounded like a couple of women screaming. I don't know what I expected when I broke down the door but it sure as hell wasn't this.
Scully's sprawled out on the bed, her back slumped against the wall and her hands clutching her stomach as the rest of her body trembles in giddy hysterics. She's wearing a pair of close fitting, worn out jeans and…I don't even know what to call that shirt. All I know is it's damn tight and her tits are busting out the top and jiggling as she laughs. I swear to God, if it were just an inch lower cut her fucking nipples would be poking out. Her face is flushed and her hair is a mess and did I mention the fact that she's laughing? I don't know if I've ever seen her laughing like this.
I look down and notice Roseanne for the first time, hunched over somewhere near my feet, in her own little delirious fit. Then I see the empty bottle. Jesus Christ. They've been fucking drinking?
What the hell is going on?
I'm starting to feel extremely awkward. Almost as if I've interrupted some kind of dyke love fest or something. Roseanne's almost as much of a slut as I am so it wouldn't surprise me if she was trying to seduce Scully. Would it work, I wonder? Would they let me join? Watch at least?
Goddammit. This is serious. They're fucking wasted.
"You guys are fucking drunk!"
"Not fucking, Alex. Just drunk," Roseanne tells me between her guffaws.
"This isn't funny. Where the hell is Bryan?"
"I told him to go to bed," Scully says, wiping the tears of joy from her eyes.
"You did what? What the hell are you guys thinking?"
I'm starting to yell now and they finally seem to be calming down enough to listen to me.
"We're just trying to have some fun, Alex. God, go take your meds or something."
"Roseanne, get lost."
"Excuse me?"
I reach down and haul her up by the arm and she stumbles in her attempt to pull away.
"I said, get lost. Go away. Now.
"Boy, Alex. You really do need to get laid. I'll leave you two alone then."
She stands on her toes to give me an irritating kiss on the cheek and practically falls out the door.
"Don't hit your ass on the way out!" I yell after her, slamming the now slightly broken door behind her.
I turn back to Scully who is no longer laughing.
"What the hell IS your problem, Krycek?"
"My problem? What's your problem, Scully? Jesus Christ! It's the middle of the night and you're sitting here getting fucked up and there's no one around to help you…"
"Roseanne was here."
"Roseanne's even more wasted than you! And she's no fucking help, Scully! What if…what if something happened? What the hell did you think you were doing sending Bryan away like that?"
"All right. That's enough."
She stands up and her legs wobble a bit. I can tell she's getting as mad as I am though. She points her finger in my face and starts shouting.
"First of all, you have NO RIGHT to come in here and tell my friend what to do. Second of all, Bryan is MY bodyguard and I can tell him to go to bed if I want to. I can't live with him hanging over my shoulder every goddamn minute. Third of all, I can take care of myself. Fourth of all, I CANNOT live like a fucking prisoner here, Krycek!"
I know she's right but how the hell am I supposed to listen to this tirade when I can't get my eyes off her goddamn chest?
"Scully, put a fucking sweater on for Christ's sake. What the hell are you wearing anyway?"
"And fifth of all, who the hell are YOU to tell ME what to wear?? You're not my fucking father and I'm not your goddamn little girl!"
She's right. Of course she's right. But how the hell am I supposed to sleep at night thinking she's getting wasted all by herself when anyone could just come in and take her, hurt her?
"This is not about some power trip of mine, Scully."
"Well then what the hell is it about?"
"It's about your safety."
She snorts and rolls her eyes.
"There is no such thing as safety, Krycek. And what good is it anyway if you don't enjoy your life? Christ, you DO need to lighten up. You're worse than…"
Her eyes drop and she looks suddenly very sad. Worse than Mulder. The other man who protected her with a desperation bordering on psychosis. Well, he did a pretty good fucking job. Christ, she's still here. After everything.
"I enjoy life sometimes, Scully."
"When?" she asks, looking at me accusingly again.
Well, when I was getting laid I did.
"I dunno, sometimes…"
"Krycek, I have never seen you enjoying life, enjoying ANYTHING. You walk around with this fucking grim expression like you're constipated or something, you never laugh, you never talk about anything except running this place…"
"Scully, I don't have TIME for anything else. Running this place is my entire life."
God, is this really what she thinks of me? That I'm some kind of dud? What the hell does she expect me to do?
"I know, and you're very good at it but don't you miss doing other things?"
"Of course I miss doing other things. Everyone misses doing other things. I thought that's what we were fighting for. The freedom to do whatever the hell we want."
"But don't you ever want to do something just…just for the sake of doing it?"
I just shrug because I honestly don't know what the hell she's talking about anymore. She sighs exaggeratedly and then opens up one of her drawers and starts fishing through it.
"Scully…"
"Go put on a bathing suit."
"What?!"
"Go put on a bathing suit and meet me at the pool in ten minutes."
Man, she must be really fucking drunk.
"Why would I want to do that?"
"I dunno, Krycek. Just for the sake of doing it?"
She turns to me, bathing suit in hand and I don't know what the hell to say to her.
"Scully I don't really think…"
"Don't think. Just do it."
I guess I'd be a fool to turn down a chance at seeing her in a bathing suit.
End Chapter Five
Continued in Chapter Six
Like what you've read? Send feedback