TITLE:  World Without End (7/?)
AUTHOR:  Rachel Anton
E-MAIL:  RAnton1013@aol.com
NOTE:  this part is also NC-17.  In fact, just to be 
safe, chapters 6-12 are NC-17 :-)

xxxxxx

For the first time in a very long time she was afraid 
for her life.

She felt safe most of the time.  Protected.

Nothing could have prepared her for this.  Snippets 
of her old life came back to her: her FBI training 
("Don't shoot to kill unless your life is 
threatened"), her father's military background ("Why 
did the soldiers kill that man, daddy?", "Sometimes, 
Starbuck, in a war, it's kill or be killed...")

Kill or be killed.

Surely that had to be considered.  These men, 
these...these traitors, they would kill her, take 
away her home, her life, her work, if she didn't 
strike first.

(Alex..."Aim for the heart, Dana.  It's the only way 
to kill them.")

Black blood flowing, reminding her that these are not 
humans.  Once...once upon a time humans who somehow 
were turned into this.  Chose this.  Have to remember 
they chose it.

No slaves.  He told her there were no slaves.  No red 
blood and she believes because she does not see it.  
Still, it becomes difficult to tell in the chaos.

Running and shooting at the same time.  They have so 
many ways to kill.  So many.

She seeks him out and they make their moves, 
attacking the primary targets, taking what they need.  
He is easy and comfortable, laughing and it puts her 
at ease until she remembers the bomb.

The compound is set to explode in five minutes.

Four...

She has to drag him away with blood-stained hands.

xxxxxx

We won tonight.  I think we won something big.

We learned recently that a drone colony was being 
established very close to our territory.  It was 
spreading fast and was bound to encroach on our land 
if we didn't do something to stop it.  We would have 
been utterly destroyed.  If you stand in the way of 
development you get squashed like a bug.

We had two choices.  Retreat even further north or 
attack before they had a chance to get themselves 
established.  It took me about five minutes to make 
the decision.  Scully told me she thought I liked 
playing Cowboys and Indians a little too much for my 
own good.  I told her the Indians would have moved 
and that's why they lost.

I still can't believe that we won.  Blew the whole 
fucking place to kingdom come.  I don't know if it 
would have been possible without her.  It never 
ceases to amaze me how much intelligence, tactical 
knowledge and brute force is contained in that 
singular, tiny body.

I didn't want her to come.  She insisted.  It was her 
first raid and, hopefully, her last.  I found it 
somewhat difficult to concentrate with her there.  
Unsettling to realize that I was more concerned with 
her safety than my own.  And more than a little 
disturbing to realize that I would have sacrificed 
this whole place if it meant keeping her alive.

Still, it was something else to see her like that.

The combination of left-over adrenaline, the thrill 
of having won, the knowledge that I've cheated death 
yet again and the memory of Dana kicking some serious 
ass has left me in a very strange state indeed.

When we get back to the compound we are met with an 
awaiting victory party.  There is merriment and 
celebration in the recreation areas and I am tempted 
to stay and join in the festivities but I am shaking 
so hard I think I'd be better off alone right now.  I 
don't think I can talk and interact on a normal level 
tonight.  I don't think I can drink and laugh and 
toast our success.  I need another kind of release.

As I walk the deserted hallway back to my quarters I 
hear them singing in the distance.  Singing.  Jesus 
Christ what a strange world.

Then I hear the click of small footsteps behind me.  
Oh Scully, not tonight.  I don't think I can stand 
it.

And yet when I reach the door I find myself holding 
it open for her, inviting her to join me against my 
better judgment.  We step inside and I don't bother 
turning on the light.  The moon is bright through the 
windows.

I feel like my fucking insides are about to rip 
through my skin but I manage to carry out the mundane 
task of opening the refrigerator door and taking out 
an old, stolen bottle of champagne, saved all these 
years for just such an occasion.

I turn to face her for the first time, bottle in hand 
and lunatic grin no doubt plastered on my face, about 
to ask her to join me in a private celebration and I 
am stopped dead in my tracks.

She is leaning against the kitchen table, bent 
slightly at the stomach and trembling even harder 
than I am.  It doesn't seem to be from excitement 
though.  Her expression is haunted and her hair and 
clothing are soaked with blood and dirt.  She looks 
like she's in shock.  It occurs to me for the first 
time that she might have been hurt at some point and 
I drop the bottle on the counter and move to stand in 
front of her.

"Are you all right?  Did you get hurt, Dana?"

She shakes her head and mutters, 
"Never...killed...so...many..."

Of course.  I should have known she'd feel this way.  
She still has a little bit of a heart.

"God, Krycek, all those...living, breathing...what if 
I...what if we...oh God."

I watch tears fall down her cheeks and I want so 
badly to be able to touch her, to hold her and make 
her feel better, feel something besides what she is 
feeling now.  I can't though because my heart is 
still pounding through my rib cage and my dick is 
rock hard for her and I don't know if I'd be able to 
stop at one touch of comfort this time.

"We did what we had to do.  You didn't do anything 
wrong.  And you were very brave."

God, even my voice is shaking.  I feel like I'm going 
to explode into a million pieces.

"What if...what if we made mistakes?  What if I...I 
could have been in that colony, Alex.  I *was* in 
that colony.  Or one just like it anyway."

"They didn't have any slaves.  All the people there 
chose that life.  We didn't kill anyone that didn't 
deserve to die."

She flinches and I suppose I've chosen the wrong 
words yet again.  God, Dana, after everything you've 
seen how can you still have so much fucking 
compassion?

"Those people were working for the motherfuckers that 
made you a slave, Dana.  The same bastards that 
killed Mulder."

She sighs and finally looks up at my face.  She's so 
beautiful it almost hurts to look back.

"I suppose it's always going to be like this isn't 
it?  I mean, I suppose I should get used to it.  The 
same way I did when I worked at the Bureau.  I 
remember how I felt the first time I killed someone 
in the line of duty back then.  It wasn't as...it 
wasn't like this but it was bad."

"I know, it's...it's a strange feeling..."

I'm not sure what to tell her about it because I am 
so far beyond the point she's at right now I can 
hardly relate to it at all.  I do have a dim 
recollection of feeling sorrow and guilt the first 
time I killed another living being, the first time I 
killed a whole bunch of living beings, but it's all 
so long ago now, so very far away.

"This is a war though, Dana.  And you're on the right 
side.  You have to know that you're doing the right 
thing."

Please know that.  Please don't leave.

"Not just for vengeance, Dana but for the future as 
well.  You're a hero.  I don't know if you really 
realize that."

She stares at me silently and I realize for the first 
time how heavily we're both breathing.  I'm still 
trembling violently, from the inside out.  And in the 
pregnant quiet between the two of us I can hear them 
still singing and shouting outside.

"You were very brave too, Alex.  I don't think I 
could have...I mean, I wouldn't have been able to do 
any of this without you there."

"Gimme a break," I snort.   "You could have taken the 
whole bunch out single handed I'll bet."

"No, I'm serious.  I never would have done any of 
this, any of this work or...God, I'd still be a slave 
if it weren't for you.  And since then, I've 
been...you've been..."

She bites her lip nervously, searching for the words.

"You're so beautiful," I blurt out carelessly, no 
longer even caring how she might react.  She should 
have known better than to come to me when I'm feeling 
like this.

"Alex...You make me feel...God, you make me feel..."

She doesn't finish but I can see everything in her 
eyes.  I make her feel beautiful.  I make her feel 
strong.  I make her feel like she can do anything.

Or, I could just be delusional.

"I'm so proud of you, Dana..."  I mumble and then 
stop, realizing how ridiculous that sounds.  Like I'm 
her father or her mentor or something.  Proud isn't 
quite the right word.  Astonished maybe.  Awed.  And 
right now, Jesus, I don't even know if I could put it 
to words.  I realize suddenly that I'm standing much 
closer to her than I was five minutes ago and that if 
she doesn't get the hell out of here I'm gonna get 
even closer.  I can't stop it.  And I have no idea if 
she would want me to stop it.  I've been trying so 
hard for so long to stop it.  Just stop it already.  
I can't afford it.  And yet I need it so desperately.  
It's like she's cracked something open, something 
inside me that's been closed and callused over for so 
long I didn't even think it existed anymore.

"Dana, I don't...I think, I think you should probably 
go now," I choke out, silently begging her not to.

"I can't," she says simply and I feel like the words 
snap the cord that's been holding me in place for 
four years now.  I close the final distance between 
us and my body is so close to hers that I can almost 
feel the pounding in her chest and the tremors 
running through her.  "I don't...want to go.  I 
need...I can't be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?"  I ask, offering one last chance to 
bail before I give up any hope of restraint, trying 
to communicate through my expression and my body and 
my voice just what she will be accepting if she stays 
here.  "Dana, if you stay I..."

"Alex..."

Her left hand releases its death grip on the edge of 
my kitchen table and slowly starts to raise and move 
in the general direction of my face.  A terrifically 
small gesture but right now, it's enough to send me 
flying past the point of no return.  Before her palm 
even reaches my cheek, I grab her wrist and shove my 
entire body fully against hers.  Her eyes widen in 
surprise and she gasps quietly.

"Alex..."  she whispers again and then we are lunging 
at each other, kissing each other so hard that I 
can't even breathe.

I've gotten pretty used to having only one fully 
functional hand but it's moments like this when I 
really miss the other one.  I can almost feel it, 
twitching with the need to touch her skin, as I slide 
under her shirt and skim the softness of her belly 
with my fingers.  She moans softly against my lips 
and I shove my tongue down her throat.

She's so fucking far away down there.  I can't stand 
it.  I nudge her against the table and she pulls 
herself on top of it, bringing her head up so that 
it's a little more level with mine.  I reach down 
between her thighs, pulling them apart and planting 
myself inside the warm shelter of her legs.  Too many 
places to touch, too many needs, too too much...

She readjusts herself clumsily, grinding her crotch 
against mine, unintentionally I think, and buries her 
fingers in my hair.  I feel like grabbing them and 
dragging them over every inch of my body.

I run my mouth down her chin and over her neck, 
tasting the strange mixture of salty sweat and other 
people's blood and then back, over the jagged scar 
behind her ear.  Her legs wrap tightly around my 
waist and this time the friction between us is 
planned.  It should feel good but right now, it's 
torture.  It hurts.

Then she reaches between us and runs her hand along 
the bulge in my jeans and I know it's gotta stop 
right there.

Well, not exactly there.  Not until I rut against her 
like a horny puppy humping some poor unsuspecting
leg.

"Dana..."  I groan agonizingly into her ear and at 
the same time, knock the book and the dishes from 
this morning's breakfast off the table behind her.  
The shrill of glass breaking on the floor mixes with 
the continuing sounds of merriment outside and the 
beat inside me, thrumming so loudly that I can hear 
it.

I push her down across the surface of the table and 
pull at her shirt, completely aggravated and feeling 
an oppressive restriction.  Forget the hand I lost, I 
need about twelve more right now.  One to rip the 
shirt off her back, one to touch her face, one her 
breast, one to strip her jeans away, another to 
plunge between her legs, still more to get me out of 
what I'm wearing.

She pulls her top over her head and tosses it to the 
side.  Oh yeah.  She's got hands too.  And I've still 
got a mouth dammit.  I latch that particular asset 
onto her nipple through the cotton material of her 
bra and she moans and arches towards me.

"Alex...take...I....oh...."

Yeah, you tell me what to do, Dana.  I don't care if 
you're incoherent.  Just keep talking to me, keep 
reminding me that you want this.

I run my tongue over her stomach and her trembling 
shifts to another level.  We're both still shaking so 
damn much we can barely keep it together.

My mouth and right hand work together to undo the fly 
of her jeans and I sink to my knees before her, 
pulling them off all the way.  All the way down to 
her damn combat boots.  Motherfucking Christ!  I feel 
like screaming.

But I don't.  And I don't even consider trying to sit 
here patiently untying those motherfuckers either.  I 
reach up again and yank her underwear down to her 
knees and bury my face between her thighs.

Holy fuck.  She tastes fucking amazing.  And the 
smell...good Goddamn.  I don't even bother with any 
preliminaries, teasing, nothing.  She's dripping wet 
and grinding into me and I think that kind of thing 
would only annoy the shit out of her right now so I 
head right for home base.  I flick my tongue over her 
clit nice and hard and she grabs the back of my head 
and cries.

I do it again, harder, and again and again as fast as 
I can fucking manage it and she starts squirming and 
panting and trying to spread her legs farther apart.  
I kind of like this.  I don't even think I wanna take 
off her shoes anymore.

I need her to come though.  Right fucking now before 
I explode in my pants.

I slide my finger inside her and, God, it's so hot 
and wet in there, I can't even stand it.  My dick is 
insanely jealous.

"Aleeexxx," she moans and the sound goes straight 
through me like a liquid aphrodisiac.  "I can't...I 
wa...oh God, fuck me, Alex.  FUCK ME!"

She pulls my hair and I lift my head from her and 
look up, just to make sure I heard her right.  She 
nods and I recognize the urgency in her eyes.  It's 
the same desperation I feel.

I stand up and undo my own pants, pulling them down 
to my own ankles and realize the same problem exists 
on my side of the street.  No fucking time.  We're 
gonna have to fuck the same way we do everything.  
With our boots on.

"Turn over," I tell her roughly.  She stands up and 
turns her back to me and I press her down so that 
she's bent over the table.  I guide my cock to her 
with my hand and finally, finally enter her in one 
quick, violent jerk.

It's so fucking tight in there that for a delirious, 
panicked moment, I'm afraid that in my haste, I've 
actually gotten the wrong hole by accident.  But no, 
it's wet and soft and, God, just amazing.  Too 
amazing actually.

"Alex?"

God, I'm just standing here like a fucking retard.  
I'm afraid to move.

Okay, deep breath, focus, concentrate, eyes on the 
wall, this is probably the only time you're ever 
gonna get to do this.

I manage to regain enough control to slide almost 
completely back out with impressive patience and then 
slowly back in.  Yep, it's as easy as that.  Just 
gotta keep doing that for long enough to avoid total 
humiliation.

I grip her waist in my hand and successfully complete 
another smooth, even stroke and I think maybe I can 
do this.

That's when she starts making this strange, mewling 
sound and arching her back, pressing herself up 
against me.  I look down and see that her little feet 
aren't even touching the ground.  Her legs are just 
dangling there in mid air over the side of the table.  
She's so little.  It's so easy to forget how small 
and delicate she is.  Then I see the mark on her 
lower back.  A tattoo?  She's got a tattoo.  God, who 
is this woman?  Who was she?

"Mmm...more Alex, harder," she groans, tightening her 
vaginal muscles around me, pulling me deeper and 
tighter.  God, she's so fucking tight.  Fuck.  Okay.  
I give up.

"God, Alex...God," she pants when I start pounding 
into her, all attempts at decorum and control 
completely abandoned.

"Yeah?  Tell me.  Tell me, Dana," I grunt through 
short breaths, draping my body over hers and pressing 
my lips against her ear.

"I...I can't...."

"Yeah you can.  Tell me, tell me it feels good.  Tell 
me you want it, Dana.  Tell me you want me."

"I wa...I..."  She turns her head to the side so that 
her lips are close to mine and I can see her eyes.

"You fucking ego...maniac...God!"

I guess she's wondering if I'm not doing this solely 
to hear her telling me how great I am.  It wouldn't 
be the first time I'd been accused of such a thing.

I slam into her, purposefully hard this time, and 
grab her hair in my fist, pulling her face further 
back towards mine and pushing my tongue brutally 
between her lips.  She sucks on it at the same time 
as her vaginal muscles tighten around my cock and we 
continue to eye each other accusingly.  Then I feel 
her teeth digging into me and I pull back with a 
thoroughly unmanly yelp.  She smiles coyly and rubs 
her ass in a circle against my belly.

"Tell me," I demand again, thrusting with ever 
increasing speed and force, causing the table to 
shake as badly as I am shaking, almost trying to hurt 
her into telling me something.  Anything about what 
she's feeling.  Of course, in the process, I'm 
bringing myself closer and closer to orgasm and 
pretty soon there's not going to be any turning back.

"Why...why don't you tell me Alex?"

She must be kidding.  There is no way in hell that 
she couldn't know.

"Tell *me* how it feels."

I don't think she understands.  I don't wanna know 
how my dick feels inside her.  I mean I do, but more 
than that, I wanna know that she's wanted this the 
way I have.  I wanna know that it's me.  All me.

"It feels...Jesus, Dana, it feels like dying."

Fuck.  That didn't make any sense at all and now I'm 
really, really close.  I reach down to where her 
crotch is pressed against the sharp edge of the table 
and realize that that's probably been hurting her.  I 
push between and grind my fingers against her clit, 
taking the pain onto my hand.

"Mmmyeeahhh," she whimpers and her hands grope around 
the table, looking for something to grab.

"Yeah?  Good?"

"I ca...I can't...I don't..."

"TELL ME!"

Shit.  Shit.  Shit.

I can't stop.  Fucking shit.  I can't fucking stop 
and I can't make it any better than it is because I 
have absolutely no control left and my ears are 
ringing and I can't even fucking see straight and I 
can't stop jerking into her like a fucking lunatic.

I clutch hard between her legs and scream out some 
incoherent nonsensical word as I come into her for 
what seems like an eternity.  When I finally reach 
the point at which there could be not a drop of semen 
conceivably left in my body, it stops.  It finally 
fucking stops and I realize that the woman I worship 
is probably completely disgusted with me right now.

Way to fuck up a good thing.

xxxxxx

End Chapter Seven