2/23/99
Slip III- When Answers Come...
Author- Araxdelan (krycekluvsmulder@hotmail.com)
Rating- PG13  
Pairing- M/K
Disclaimer- Do I have to?
Spoilers- All the Krycek episodes, some vaugue Mulderdad referances, and 
a stupid little bit from "Tooms".
Summary- Mulder and Krycek talk it out.
Notes- Thanks to Lone Gungirl for encouragement. You rule!

Part of the "Slip" series. Would be 
best to read the other parts. URL for parts one and two-
http://www.members.tripod.com/Araxdelan/slip01-02.txt




***********
Untitled Part 3
***********

	Mmm... warm. Nice and warm. And soft, and good smelling... oh. I 
should really learn to speed up my reaction response in the morning. My mind 
gets too fuzzy. Three minutes of conscious... well, semi-consciousness, 
and I only now remember why I'm waking up next to a warm body.

	It makes me want to sigh, but I'm afraid Krycek might take it as a 
sign that I'm pleased. Because I'm not. Well.... I suppose I'm about as 
unpleased as one can be when waking up well-rested for the first time in 
months, cozy next to a warm body. It's the fact that this warm body is 
supposed to be one of my worst enemies that disturbs me.

	I can't tell if he's awake. I wonder if he slept well. I wonder if he 
was surprised when I took him into my arms last night. He had to have been. 
Normally, I'd think he'd planned this, was manipulating me for some reason. 
But last night... when I questioned him about how he had gotten his arm 
back... his tears, they were real. 

	To see a man like that cry, someone so hard breaking....I couldn't 
handle it. I was softening on my opinion of Alex Krycek before last night, 
despite some internal conflicts. And when he called a truce, then cried over 
the loss of his arm... I  was gone. I look down at him now, so deceptively 
peaceful, so very... beautiful. Yes, beauty is the only way to describe his 
sleeping face. God, I'm gone forever. What is happening to me?

	I wonder how I should wake him. I have to pee, and he's laying on top 
of me. Shaking his arm won't do, my touch on his arm is what started this in 
the first place. Maybe the right arm, or his shoulder. Or I could kiss him. A 
smile is breaking out across my face. Wouldn't that surprise him! That spot, 
right there, on his forehead. I wonder what he tastes like.... I lean 
forward....

	His eyes pop open, before I am even halfway there. He looks slightly 
confused, but not unaware of his surroundings. I'm willing to bet he never 
wakes up and forgets where he is. He looks at me for a moment, then clears 
his throat. "Good morning Mulder." he says, more softly than I expect.

	I stare back at him for a moment, then I say, "Good morning. I have 
to pee."

	"Thanks for sharing."

	"No, that's not what I mean. I have to pee, and you're laying on top 
of me."
		      
	He smiles evilly, but not nastily, and replies, "I know, I'm just 
teasing you."

	I try not to smile back, I really do, but I can't help it. This new 
camaraderie between us is making me feel strange, but in a good way. He rolls 
off of me and into a sitting position on the couch, and I get up and go to 
the bathroom.

	I close the door behind me, and I'm glad for the moment to myself, 
away from him. I unzip my suit pants, that I never took off last night, 
and urinate. What exactly was I thinking last night? I mean, sure, Krycek was 
unusually vulnerable, and sure, I'm beginning to think he's not *such* a big 
bastard, but still it was damn stupid. Damn stupid, and damn comfortable. I 
haven't slept that well in years.

	I mean, could it possibly be that I'm just making up excuses? It 
*would* be a common psychological response to an attraction to another man. 
Especially one I have no business being attracted to. I *do* think Krycek is 
good looking, but, could I sleep with him? Is that what all of this is? I 
want to fuck Krycek? It would explain why I hit him so much....

	Heck, maybe I only *think* I'm attracted to him. *That* would also be 
a common psychological response, to his vulnerability. Having a killer lying 
docile in your arms, taming the wild beast... that would explain it.

	But it *could* be genuine attraction... I suppose this is the downfall 
of being a psychologist. Tying yourself up into mental knots. Hmm... I have to 
go out there, see what I feel. That's the only true test as to what this is. 
Besides, I've been in here way too long for a man who's just supposed to be 
taking a piss.

	I open the bathroom door, walk down the hall... and I'm filled with 
rage. Alex Krycek has put his shirt and jacket back on, and is headed out the 
door.

*************************************************************

	"Krycek!" I roar. 

	He turns slowly, guiltily around, and faces me. "What?"

	"What do you mean, 'what'"? You were just going to head out the door? 
That's it?"

	He sighs. "Mulder," he says, in the slow, quiet voice he greeted me 
with this morning. "Mulder, I thought this would be easier. You wouldn't have 
to talk to me, or hide in the bathroom..."

	Now it's my turn to sigh. "I wasn't hiding. I was thinking."

	"Uh-oh."

	"What?" I ask, warily.

	"Every time *you* think, *I* get a beating."

	"That's not true."

	"It is. Think about it."

	Okay, I *have* beat him a lot in the past. But I thought he killed my 
father, for petes sake! And a whole laundry list of other horrid things. 
"Fine, I did beat you a lot. But I was angry! You've done some shitty stuff 
to me!"

	"Have I?"

	"I... I *thought* you did."

	"Well Mulder, your hunches may be correct most of the time, but you 
aren't always right. Just because you're 'The Crusader For the Truth' doesn't 
mean your word *is* truth. A little proof would be nice."

	"I have proof!"

	"Really? Show it to me."

	"Well..."

	"See, you can't! All you have is heresay, and a *lack* of evidence, 
which points suspicion in my direction. And maybe a little circumstantial 
evidence. *Maybe*."

	His frustration softens, and he lays a hand on my shoulder. "I know it's 
hard never coming away with any proof. But that doesn't mean you can just make 
up your own answers to fill in the blanks." the hand drops.

	It really annoys me that he has a point. When did Krycek start being 
right anyway? It feels like the world is upside down. Or inside out. 
"Something tells me you're not Mr. Innocent, evidence or no evidence."

	Another sigh. "Mulder, I've done some things in my life that I wish 
I'd never done. But they were the only choices available to me at the time. 
That doesn't validate what I did. Bit I'm hoping it makes it easier for you 
to understand. I'm not a monster Mulder, despite what you may think..."

	I cut him off. "I don't think your a monster."

	That produced a weak smile. "Well, that's a relief." The smile faded. 
"But that's not my...  Mulder, what I'm trying to say is... I may have 
committed many wrongs, but I'm not a malicious killer. I hate myself for the 
things I've done."

	"You shouldn't hate *yourself*, you should hate the *acts* you've 
committed."

	He laughs. "Are you going to start charging me a hundred bucks an 
hour for the psycho-therapy?"

	"Hey, if that's too expensive, I can work on a sliding scale..." I 
joke. He laughs again. I quite like the sound. But... "Krycek... Alex... 
could we talk?"

	"What have we *been* doing? Making ice cream?" he asks, sarcastically.

	"You know what I mean. Sit down, take your jacket off..."

	He thinks for a moment. Then he slips out of the leather jacket. 
"Okay."

*****************************************************************


	We both sit down on the couch, facing one and other. Awkward, awkward, 
awkward. I know what I want to ask, but I don't know *how*. This question is 
important, could change things again.

	"Mulder, I didn't kill your father."

	Since when is Krycek a mind reader? And how do I know he's telling 
the truth?

	"But I was there." 

	Ahh... the catch. I can feel my anger growing once again. "So... who 
pulled the trigger?"

	"Mulder... I don't want to talk about this..."

	Anger. "Why? Are you lying? *Did* you kill him? Or was it an 
accident? Maybe you were supposed to get me instead! Is that it?"

	"He did it himself." soft voice again.

	God. "God." I put my head in my hands.

	"I didn't want to tell..."

	I lift my head, to look at him. "Why?"

	"Mulder," he takes one of my hands, gently, too gently. "I was 
sent... I was sent to tell him that if he revealed anything to you, you would 
be at risk. Not my plan, of course. I got there, and... he was a little out of 
it. I had him at gunpoint, and told him, and he just looked at me sadly and 
said, 'That's too bad.' I didn't expect him to make a move, and when he did, 
he just grabbed my gun and..." 

	Krycek, surprisingly, looks a little shaken. And I, well... as much as 
I disliked my father, and even though I know he's done terrible things... he 
was my father. I'm crying, and Krycek just holds my hand, rubbing my palm 
with his thumb. Wait... he's holding it with his *left* hand. The one he's so 
sensitive about...

	Why? Why me? Why does he have to be so sweet when he's supposed to be 
bad? I cry harder. I'm so confused. Krycek's done terrible things, but so had 
my father, and I learned to forgive him. Could I do that? Could I let Krycek's 
evils go unnoticed because he's made mistakes, as my father had, so many 
years before?

	I sniffle, and squeeze Krycek's hand. "Anything else?"

	"I'm the one who clocked the tram operator, I beat up Skinner once, I 
killed a three assassins who were after me, joined up with the militia for no 
other reason than to save my ass, joined up with the Russians using some old 
family connections for no reason other than to save *our* asses, and 
participated in cruelty towards a young boy who was supposed to have been 
killed by the rebels anyway."

	Honesty. I think. "No, that's not what I meant. But it *is* nice to 
know." I think for a moment. "What about Scully's abduction?"

	His face crinkles up, as if remembering something painful. "I was 
never a supporter of the project. I tried to get them to reconsider, 
but..." he drops my hand, turns away. "I guess it would be in bad taste to 
say that I was 'just following orders'."

	The regret *sounds* genuine. "Thank you."

	"For what? For giving you the horrible truth, finally, when I can no 
longer run from it? That's nothing I should be thanked for."

	He has issues with what he's done, and he'll have to work through them. 
Own up to them. But he's come clean. "No. For clearing the slate. For *really* 
calling a truce. For giving me what I need to trust you. So we can work 
together in this. So we can...." 

	I'm not quite sure how to finish that sentence, so I let it hang. But 
he seems to understand what I mean. Maybe better than I do. He smiles. 
"Alright." he looks like he's blushing a little, and then he leans over and 
hugs me. I hug back, and it reminds me of last night, how good it felt...

	"Jeeze Mulder, I feel like I'm in family therapy, or a made for TV 
movie, or something."

	I know the feeling. I shake my head. Just how in the hell *did* we 
get to this point? "Well, despite our feelings for each other in the past, 
we've been through a lot together. And we share a lot of secrets, know of 
conspiracy that few others are aware of. It's a bond." I listen to my own 
words. Maybe that's what this has been all about. I feel close to Krycek, and 
I want to be with someone who *knows*. Who understands. 

	But why not Scully? Or Skinner, or one of The Lone Gunmen? Why 
Krycek?

	He looks thoughtful, then says, "Yes. A bond."

	Maybe it's because he's more like me. Seems to think more like me, 
anyway. Just... *is* more like me, in a way I can't describe. I could always 
figure it out later. "Krycek, would you like to stay for breakfast?"

	He smiles. "Yes, I'd like that. It's been awhile since I've sat down 
for a nice, normal, breakfast. Thank you."

	"Alright. Lemme just call into work, get the day off."

	"Skipping work for me?" he asks, jokingly.

	"Why not? I deserve a day off now and then." I say, smiling. "I can 
just tell them I don't feel well, and that I can finish up my report just as 
well at home. Besides, I don't feel like seeing Scully."

	"Trouble in paradise?"

	"No. Just a tough case, and neither of us was in the best mood." I 
get up to go get the phone.

	"Want to talk about it?"

	Well, this was new. A normal conversation with Krycek? That had 
nothing to do with aliens or conspiracies? Hmm... doesn't sound half bad. 
"Sure, but I have to call in first. And go out to get something *for* 
breakfast. I don't have anything around." Hmm... maybe chocolate donuts.

	"Why don't I go out while you call? How about chocolate donuts?"

	I turn back around, and look at him fondly. Not iced tea, but on the 
same track. I lean in close...

	I can hear him draw in his breath, as he realizes what's happening. I 
touch his lips gently with my own. They're soft and smooth, and I lean 
forward a little more, putting a little more pressure into the kiss. Maybe 
it's love...

	Oh God. *Maybe it's love...*

	I draw slowly away, and I wonder just what the hell is wrong with 
me. When did I go insane? I look at him, and he has this surprised look on 
his face, that is quite pleasant. Now I remember...

	I stand back up, and he stays frozen, shocked. "Can you please pick 
up some milk and coffee when you go get the donuts?" I ask.

	He looks up at me, confused. "What... oh.... yeah, sure. No problem."

	He stands up and puts his jacket on. I get the phone and dial up 
Skinner's office. The phone is ringing, and Krycek comes and stands in front 
of me. He looks calmly at me, and the leans forward and brushes his lips 
sweetly across mine. All thoughts fly from my mind, and I'm beginning to doubt 
that they ever really belonged there. This kiss is so... painfully chaste, 
like the time he kissed me on my cheek. 

	More. That's what I want. I move to draw my arm up, to grab the back 
of his head and deepen the kiss, when a voice on the phone says, "Hello? 
Hello?"

	I'm perfectly ready to drop the phone, but Krycek backs away, smiles 
at me, and heads for the door. I shake my head in a vain attempt to clear it, 
and say, "Hello, Kristen? This is Fox Mulder. Could you please tell A.D. 
Skinner that I won't be coming in today?"

	"Why?" she asks, as I hear the door slam.

	"I'm sick." 

	And that's the truth.


****
The
End
****

To be continued in Untitled Part Four
All parts of this series can be found at Araxdelan's Slash Site
http://www.members.tripod.com/Araxdelan/