7/8/99 
Slip IX- No Other Way
by Araxdelan (krycekluvsmulder@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer- The X-Files crew belongs to Fox and 1013. Lena belongs to me.
But you can borrow her. *I* know how to share my toys.
Rated- R
Summary- Some things you can't run away from. And then there's the things
you can't help wanting to run to.
Notes- Washington D.C. may or may not have a Russian district. I don't
really care, because this universe is already so alternate it doesn't
matter anyway. Apologies if you live in D.C.. I know how fucking annoying
it is when people screw with your town to make it more convenient for their
fictional purposes. I can barely even watch E.R. sometimes because of it,
and they're usually pretty good about it, too. 

	This story is for Lissa, because, without her, it wouldn't have
been possible. She's responsible for everything Russian in this story, and I
can't thank her enough.




Slip IX
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^


	Dead silence. I wonder if turning the radio on would increase or
decrease the tension in the car. Probably neither. Right now, the tension
is so thick it's almost tangible. The only way I could make it worse would
be to lean over and blow Krycek where he sits. And, with the mood everyone
is in, I doubt a little music will calm anyone down.

	We're at a red light, and Krycek turns, and gives me a little
smile. Throughout the car ride, he's done this. Turned to reassure and
comfort me. I've used these little moments as a life-line. The anger and
grief I'm feeling seems to fill me, choke me. His glances let me breathe.
I love him all the more for understanding just what I need right now.

	The past twenty-four.. no wait.. scratch that. Less time has
passed. Probably seventeen hours. Seventeen hours since he tore my world
apart. In the past seventeen hours, everything's spun out of control.
Everything's happening too fast. I feel as if I'm in some kind of a dream.
And not a particularly pleasant one, judging from the icy stares coming
from the back seat. But, the funny thing is, no matter how bad this gets,
I don't want to wake up. If I... if I did, he wouldn't be sitting here
next to me.

	I wonder if maybe I had never felt this love, had never known, had
continued hating.... but no... going back would be no better a choice. It
would make things a hundred times easier in my life, but eventually, all
the lying to myself would kill me. I've always seen something in those
green eyes, no matter how confused or deluded I was about it. 

	I suppose the best I could have hoped for was time. Time to ease
into this relationship, time to digest the information about the
conspiracy, and time to prepare Scully and Skinner for my unconventional
mate. But things have never gone smoothly in my life (or quietly, or
slowly), and in this there was no exception. 

	In all reality, we don't know how much time we have left. Days,
weeks.... for all we know, the aliens could land tonight, and start frying
people. So, on the other hand, perhaps fate was smiling down on me when
Krycek and I were thrown together. Who knows how long we'll be able to
enjoy this for? And, besides, if I look at things closely, this really
wasn't dumped on me all in one heap. Me and him, we've been brewing for
awhile. It's actually funny that I never saw any of this coming. But, as
they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty.

	So, no, I don't regret the discovery of my love. But I do regret
having Scully and Skinner find out about it.

	Shit. I don't even have the faintest clue what to do about that.

	Skinner was being surprisingly understanding about the whole
thing. I would have thought he'd blow his top when he found out. Maybe he
just expects me to do stupid stuff. But, then again, so does Scully, and
she reacted surprisingly bad to the whole thing. I know it sounds awful,
but I really just wanted to smack her. She's supposed to be my partner,
supposed to support me. She's supposed to be my friend...

	And she's so calm about so many other things. 

	Ghosts? "Sure, Mulder, whatever." 

	Come halfway across the country to help me find a monster? "I'll
be there, Mulder". 

	Lemme ditch you and run off into the jungle and almost get caught
by a team of military professionals with orders to shoot on sight.  "I'll
be there to bail your ass out, Mulder. "

	Hey Scully, I love Alex Krycek! This is the happiest I've ever
been! "You're insane, Mulder! I can't accept this, Mulder! Sorry Mulder,
it's over!"

	Outwardly, it seems ridiculous. But, in a way, it makes a twisted
kind of sense. This is it. The last straw. I've done too many nutty things,
dragged *her* into too many nutty things, and she can't take it anymore.

	But what she doesn't realize is that this isn't nutty at all. This
is dead serious.

	And maybe, maybe if I can talk her into believing all sorts of
other things, maybe if I can convince her to get on a plane and come
looking for something she doesn't even believe in, then maybe I can
convince her that Alex Krycek is a good man, and that I love him.

	I'll just have to wait till we get to wherever we're going, and see.

	And, as I study the environment, I don't think I'll have to wait
much longer. The Russian part of town. I should have known.

	We drive a few more blocks, and turn down a quiet, residential
street. Krycek parks in front of a large two-story brick apartment
building, and cuts the engine. I turn to him, and raise my eyebrow, but he
just stares amusedly, and raises his eyebrow back. Before I can ask where
the heck we are, he opens his door, and gets out. 

	I'm really curious as to what Scully and Skinner are thinking, but
I figure it's probably safer not to turn around and see. Truth be told,
I'm kind of scared of Scully. Sure, she's a tough lady, but, besides that,
she holds power over me. I've depended on her for so long... I know I have
someone else to depend on now, but still, without her friendship, I don't
know what I'd do. She has the power to make my life perfect, or leave me,
and make it bittersweet.

	Krycek comes around, and solicitously opens my door for me. I step
out, and wait on the sidewalk for Skinner and Scully to exit the car. It
takes a moment, but they do. Krycek begins to walk towards the brick
building, and they follow, quietly unhappy with the whole situation.

	We all step up onto the small stoop, and Krycek rings the
doorbell. Not more than a few seconds later, the door opens a crack, and
the side of someone's face peers out, before the person flings the door
open, with a joyful shout. 

	"Alex!"

	Soon he's in the arms of a plump old woman with a big cheerful
smile on her face. He looks a little uncomfortable in the embrace, but he's
smiling anyway. And so am I. It's catching. I steal a quick glance at
Skinner and Scully, and even they look a little amused.

	The woman is chattering away in Russian now, and Krycek manages to
get a word in now and then as well. After a minute, she turns to us, and,
in a thickly accented voice, says, "Come in! Come in! You will catch cold
out there!"

	We are ushered in, and, from the looks of the interior, I'd say
this isn't an apartment building. The first floor is entirely open. A large
living room, with sofas and chairs. Towards the rear, there is a wall,
with an open door. From what I can see and smell from the inside, it
appears to be a kitchen. And, not too far from that door, is a staircase
leading upstairs.

	Krycek now manages to break away from the conversation long enough
to turn to us. He clears his throat, and says, "Everyone, this is Lena.
She runs this boarding house, and has agreed to let us stay here until I
can get things straightened out. Lena, this is Dana Scully, Walter Skinner,
and Fox Mulder."

	She enthusiastically shakes Scully and Skinner's hands, and turns to
me. She smiles that big smile, says, "Dobro pozhalovat’ v nashu semyu,
dorogoy!" and wraps me up in a big hug. She's little, even smaller than
Scully, but very strong. I'm having trouble breathing. I look over at
Krycek. He tries to shrug innocently, but gives himself away with the
proud smile on his face. He must have told her something about us. I hug
her back.

	Once she releases me, she says, "Alex told me that you need a
place to stay for a few hours. The attic room is free, you can stay up
there until everything is taken care of. Go now, up the stairs, Alex will
show you where. I will be there in a few minutes with some borsch to help
warm you up. It is too cold a day to be outside."

	And, with that, she shoos us all towards the staircase, and
disappears into the kitchen. Krycek begins to climb the stairs, and I
follow. "So," I ask, "how do you know Lena?"

	He turns, smiling a bit. "Lena? I've known her forever. She and my
father grew up in the same village. She was always around when I was
young. But..."

	"But what?"

	"Well, when I got roped into... well... you know, this whole
business, I told her that I was in trouble, and that it was best if I
didn't contact her too often. I didn't want them to hurt her."

	"Where are your parents?" I ask, suddenly curious.

	"Dead."

	Oh. I suppose this is neither the time or the place to ask him to
elaborate on that short statement. "So Lena's the only... "

	"Yeah, she's like family. And yeah, she's the only one left."

	By now, we've reached the very top of the staircase, and have
continued down a small hall, lined with doors. I hear Skinner and Scully's
footsteps behind me. At the end of the hall, Krycek opens one of the
doors, and I can see another staircase behind it. We trudge up these steps,
which seem much steeper, and end at yet another door. 

	That door is soon open, and we step into a warmly decorated room.
There's a sofa and a few arm chairs. They look old, well used, but not
uncared for. Something you'd see in your grandmother's house. Which makes
sense, seeing as how the woman who runs this place is so grandmotherly. To
the right, I see an open doorway, to what looks like an equally cozy
bedroom. The place is cute.

	Scully enters, and plops down huffily on the couch. Skinner
follows, surveys his surroundings, and places himself into an green
wing-back chair. I take one look at the expressions on their faces, and
drag Krycek across the room, towards a small windowseat.

	I make myself comfortable, and he sits down next to me. This seat
is small, and he's so close to me. I lean into his space. There. *Now* I'm
comfortable. And glad that the couch and chair are facing in the opposite
direction.

	"Why did you bring us here?"  He's so worried about Lena, and,
suddenly, I am too. This place is so tranquil. I don't want them breaking
in the windows and coming after us. I don't want them destroying Lena's
little world.

	"I... I wanted to bring you someplace safe, and this was the place
that came to mind. They don't know about it, I'm certain. And, you'll not
only be safe, but well fed." he finishes, with a smile.

	My stomach rumbles at that. I haven't eaten since this morning. And
that was only two chocolate donuts, and a cup of coffee. "So Lena's a good
cook?"

	"Yup. She'll take good care of you while I'm gone."

	What? "Gone?"

	"Yeah. There's a public library a few blocks from here. They should
have internet access. I'm going to go and show them that I was serious
about my threat. Maybe then they'll know better than to fuck with me."

	"What's going to happen when you give your information to the
media?"

	"I'm not going to give it to the *real* media. This is just a
warning. I'm going to hand it over to a tabloid, so, when the story gets
out, no one will believe it. It'll just show them that I'm serious, and,
that if anything else happens, I won't hesitate to follow through on my
threat."

	It's a good plan, but *still*. He can't go walking around the
streets. There are people after us. "I'm coming with you."

	He sighs. "No Mulder. You're staying here, and talking to your
boss and partner."

	Oh no. I'm definitely going with him. "You need someone to guard your
back."

	"I haven't had anyone guarding my back before, and I'm fine."

	"Well now that you have someone to guard your back..."

	"Forget it, Mulder. One, it's safer if I do this alone. Two, you're
going to have to talk to them sometime."

	I sigh. He's right, and I know he's right, but it still doesn't
make this any easier. "Fine."

	He laughs, and reaches over to push my chin up. "Don't pout." he
says, his fingers lingering on my face.

	I raise a challenging eyebrow. "Why not?"

	"Well, I'd like to say that it's un-becoming, but, frankly, it's a
little *too* becoming." He leans in and brushes his lips over mine.

	When he draws back, I smile wickedly. "Now I have a new secret
weapon."

	He laughs gently at that, and stands up. "You're leaving?" I ask.

	He stretches out, and I can hear his joints popping. "Yeah. The
faster I do this, the faster we can go hom... uh... can get back and get
some rest. We have a lot of work to do." He turns and begins walking
towards the door, but not before I see a hint of blush on his cheeks. Get
some rest, indeed!

	I follow him, catching up just before he reaches the doorway. I put
a hand on his shoulder, and he when he turns he lands straight into a
kiss. "You're right." I say, once I break away. "I am tired, and I would
like it if we went home and got some rest."

	His face lights up at that. "Okay." he tells me, and leans in for
yet another kiss.

	In the middle of this one, the door bursts open, and Lena steps
in, carrying a large tray full of food. As Krycek and I break apart, she
says, "No no. Do not stop because of me!" and laughs merrily. I give her an
embarrassed smile back.

	"That's okay, I had to leave anyway." Krycek gives my hand a quick
squeeze, maneuvers around Lena's tray to bend near and give her a quick
peck on the cheek, and makes his way out the door. Just before it closes, I
hear him say, "I'll work as fast as I can."

	Lena shakes her head. "Takoy ogon' v tvoeh glasah, kogda ty snova
molod e vlublyon."

	I move to help her with the tray, but she just brushes me out of
the way, saying, "It is fine! It is fine. Sit down!"

	She quickly walks over and sets the tray down on the coffee table
in front of the couch. I wonder how she carried that thing up two flights
of stairs without spilling. Practice, probably. She motions me over, and I
sit in the chair farthest from both Scully and Skinner.

	Lena hands me over a bowl of red liquid. Borsch. I've never tried
borsch before, and, for the life of me, I can't remember what's in it.
"Lena, what's in this stuff?"

	"Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Red beets. Beef and
potato and carrots. It is good. Eat. You men need your strength, and you,"
she says, directing a firm glance in Scully's direction, "you, Miss Scully,
are too thin. Any skinnier and we would not be able to see you!"

	We all laugh loudly, and it eases some of the tension in the room.
Lena looks at us, obviously pleased with herself. "You eat good. If you
need me, I will be downstairs." She turns, and leaves.

	After she's gone, we all pick up our spoons, and take a tentative
taste. The soup is hot, and, as it goes down, it does warm me. And it's
very tasty. I put my bowl down on the table, and shrug out of my coat,
hanging it on the back of my chair. I pick the bowl up, and begin
vigorously eating. Before I know it, the soup is gone, and I sit back into
the chair with a satisfied groan.

	At the sound, Skinner and Scully glance over at me. They haven't
been eating as quickly as I have, and they still aren't finished.
Nevertheless, they place their bowls onto the coffee table, and look
expectantly at me.

	"What?" I ask.

	"Oh, *nothing*." Scully responds, sarcastically.

	Skinner shakes his head slightly, looking upset. "Mulder, you know
what. We have to discuss what's been going on. And fix things. I will not
have you two bickering."

	I look down at my hands. "Yeah, and?"

	He exhales loudly. I feel as though I'm in his office, getting
ready to be chewed out for some breech of protocol. I slouch down into the
chair, and avoid his gaze.

	"Mulder, when did all of this start?" His voice is soft. Gentle
almost. Which scares me more than any yelling he could ever do.

	I sigh. "Last night."

	"Last night!!!" Scully exclaims. "All this talk of love and all
this other bullshit, and you've only been together since *last night*?!"

	"Well we.... I.... it's a lot more complicated than that."

	When all I hear in return is silence, I look up to see that she's
raised her eyebrow. Waiting for me to elaborate. 

	"It's so hard to put into words. I don't even know quite how to
explain it to myself. I think... I think it started back when we were
partners. I *liked* him. And... I... I was attracted to him. I never acted
on it... let it fester within me. And, when I found out who he really was,
I was *pissed*.

	"So,  I beat myself up inside for daring to... daring to *love*
this man. I was angry at myself, and angry at him for making himself
unlovable. I didn't.... I wasn't *conscious* of most of this, but it was
there, in the back of my mind, where the thought would dangle and I could
almost grasp it, examine it... But never... I could never really think it
through, rationalize, so the anger would remain. And then, when I saw him,
I'd take my frustration, confusion, and rage out on him."

	God, did I really... I hate myself for it now. To think back, on
all those memories, my fist on his face, his pain... oh, his pain! And the
arm..... 

	I choke up for a few seconds, but focus myself on the importance
of telling the story, and continue. "This has been a part of me since the
beginning. And, last night, he came to me. I'm not sure why, exactly. He
said it was because he wanted to call a truce, but... I think he was tired.
I don't know if he knew his feelings for me, or if he buried them, as I
had done, but either way those feelings existed. I think they drew him to
my apartment, brought him to me because, emotionally, he was in pain. And
a primal part of him sought out the one he loved to soothe that pain.

	"We didn't fight last night. I was tired. Physically, from the
case, and emotionally exhausted as well. Though I don't think I realized
it, I was tired of fighting my feelings. I might not have set those
feelings free right then, but I didn't give into the rage that made me hurt
him either. It wasn't there anymore. Too many things have happened, too
many things that brought the confusion to the surface, and cast the anger
away.

	"But even the confusion disappeared when I... when he... well... I
guess you could say he had a breakdown, of sorts. Then all that was left
was a need to comfort, a need I gave into. We ended up falling asleep on
my couch together. No, that's not quite right... I *let* us fall asleep
together. And I woke the next morning with such a sense of peace...

	"When I finally got my bearings, I was confused again, but took
the time to try and examine my feelings. To examine what was holding my
feelings back. And I got a chance to ask Krycek some questions, and while
the answers were hard to hear, they somehow convinced me that it was okay.
I learned that Alex Krycek wasn't the monster I was desperately trying to
make him out to be. That monster was a product of my imagination, of my
self-hatred and hesitance to love a man. Not just a man, but a man on the
wrong side. 'The enemy'.

	"Once all that was gone, I felt freed. I wanted more... wanted to
make up for lost time. I took a sick day, and invited him to stay for
breakfast. Then..."

	I hesitate, wondering how exactly to explain what happened next.
What details to give away. I don't want to be graphic, but I do want them
to understand. 

	"Then... something happened. Something small and stupid,
meaningless, but it just triggered this... this *epiphany* within myself.
'I might love him'. It was the first time I had fully formulated the
thought, and I was ecstatic at first. Then a little scared. And I kissed
him. And then he kissed me.

	"He went out for donuts. We spent a bit more time together, not
really doing anything, but just long enough for me to realize how much I
enjoy his company. Then you walked in, Scully, and both of you know what
happened next. After that, when our discussion was over, we went to enlist
the help of the Lone Gunmen. It was around that time that he... he...
professed his love for me. And not long after, I told him that I loved him
too. 

	"So, that's how it happened, and why."

	I finish with a bit of a sob. I hurt. That hurt. So much of it
didn't really come together until right before it left my mouth. All this
self-revelation, being clearer on my motives is difficult. I don't want to
do this anymore. I don't want to talk anymore. I don't want to fight with
Scully, I don't want to fight with The Consortium, I don't want to rid the
earth of the aliens. I want to crawl into bed, under the covers, and never
come out. Maybe bring Krycek with me. We could live under the sheets, like
a couple of kids in a tent made out of blankets. Completely in our own,
safe, world.

	That thought makes me laugh a little. I get a vision of Krycek and
me, in a fort made out of couch cushions, hiding from the world. But I
sober a bit when I realize that being inside of it with Krycek would make
me feel as safe as if it's walls were made of steel.

	I finally gather enough courage to look up and face Scully and
Skinner. He has a look of quiet contemplation on his face. She looks
confused. Like she's in a dream, and wondering when she's going to wake up.
Neither of them seem angry, and no one's yelling, so I suppose it's
progress.

	I move my attention back and forth, between them. The silence is
deafening me, stealing my courage, my hope. I need to know. "Can either of
you possibly understand?"

	They look up, startled from their thoughts. Scully is the one to
respond, and her voice is tinged with a touch of sadness.

	 "Mulder, I can understand *how* you fell in love, but not why.
There's so many other people in the world... why him?" 

	I smile. "Because there is no one else in the world quite like him."

	"Mulder! Now you're just spouting romantic stereotypes! Can't you
give me a straight answer?"

	"How am I supposed to do that, Scully? I can't quite explain why I
love you the way I do, why should I be expected to explain why I love
Krycek?"

	"You loving me makes sense! We've been partners for six years,
we've entrusted our lives to one another, rescued each other from danger."

	"Love between friends is usually sensible, Scully. But this kind
of love..."

	"Your head is in the clouds. You're not thinking clearly."

	 "It doesn't matter. My head has nothing to do with it. Scully, if
you try to love with your mind, you'll always fail. Your heart has to be
the one to say yes, and, when it does, you can never ignore it. It'll tear
you up, and you might not even notice until you're half dead already."

	She has a pleading look in her eyes now. "*Why*? Why does your
heart choose him, Mulder? I'm trying so hard to understand..."

	I think for a moment, and reply, "My heart? My heart seeks him out
because it feels it's twin beating in his chest. The rest of me sticks
around because he's smart, and funny, and really quite sweet, once you get
to know him."

	Scully looks as though she doesn't know whether to laugh, or cry.
Finally, she just sighs, and says, "Oh Mulder..."

	And, for the first time since the car, I think that maybe
everything will be alright.

	I look towards Skinner, wanting to gauge his reaction, and I'm
surprised to see a slight smile on his lips. I raise an eyebrow at him, and
ask, in the most polite way I can, "What are you smiling at?"

	He laughs a quiet laugh. "You."

	"Why?"

	"I don't know... I think I just expected something like this from
you. Falling in love with someone totally odd, announcing it to us proudly,
balking at our reaction. And preaching about twin souls and laughter and
beauty, completely letting yourself melt into it. You've never been a...
stable... person, Mulder. Your emotions swing back and forth so fast that
none of us can keep up with them. And you're always so passionate about
whatever you do. I just expected the same thing to happen with your love
life. Who it happened with, on the other hand..."

	Huh. I never knew Skinner thought of me like that. 

	Now Scully's laughing. Okay, now things are better than before.
If she's laughing, hopefully she's also accepting what he's saying. I can
live with being 'crazy, romantic eccentric Mulder, who fell in love with a
criminal'. It's better than being 'crazy Mulder who fell in love with a
psychopath, and I hate him for it'.

	Now that I'm done talking to them, I need to be alone. Away from
the emotional intensity that has filled the past day. I need to gather my
thoughts, reflect on all the things I've said and done. Out. I need to be
out. I stand up, and grab my coat.

	"Mulder," Scully asks, concerned, "where are you going?"

	"Sorry, but I need to be by myself for awhile. Today, it's all
been too much. Don't worry, I won't go far."

	"Okay." her concerned look turns stern. "But we're not done
talking."

	I heave a sigh. "We're not?"

	"No. I might be closer to understanding, but I don't know how close
I am to accepting. And trust.." she barks a dry laugh, "that's not even an
issue. There is none, and never will be. Which is why I'm worried about you
two being together."

	"Well, you know what Scully? I trust him enough for both of us." I
say it calmly, and then turn, and walk out the door.

	I'm already in the second floor hallway before I realize I don't
know where I'm going. I continue down, to the first floor. I look around
the large... what would this be called? A sitting room? I look around the
sitting room for Lena. But she's not here. I make my way towards the back,
into the kitchen.

	The kitchen is a large room, scattered with pots and pans, and all
those other things I don't know much about. I smell something. The scent is
coming from the pot warming on the stove. I walk over, take the lid off,
and peer inside. Mmmm... the borsch.. Something's in the oven, too. Cake.
And I bet there's all sorts of leftovers in the fridge...

	On my way to the refrigerator, I get distracted when I notice the
back door for the first time. My curiosity is overwhelming. I shrug on my
coat, undo the locks, and walk outside.

	Immediately I can tell that it's a lovely garden in the summer. The
way the dead plants are arranged, the shapes of the empty flower beds;
they're all clues to how it would look when it's in bloom.

	The whole yard is surprisingly large. Whoever built this building
must have loved gardening; he left plenty of room back here to do so. Lena
has used the space effectively. The yard is filled with more than plants and
trees. There are also small, tasteful statues scattered about. Even a
fountain. And stone benches. I choose one near the doorway, and take a seat
on it.

	From here I can see the entire garden. The snow has lightly
dusted everything a perfect white. It almost looks like the snow was
painted on by a conscious mind; blown sideways to coat the bark of a tree,
like icing on a cake; floating gently down, to pool in the center of each
individual leaf on a plant that has kept it's deep green leaves; drifting
together, to cap the bunches of empty seed pods atop those flowerless
stems, making them look like tufts of cotton. Combine it all, and it seems
as though someone was trying to pose the yard for a postcard picture.

	The night is still. Even the roar of traffic was left behind when
we turned down this quiet, residential street. This, combined with the
beauty of the garden, works to calm me, to soothe my weary nerves. The
cold seems to assist in the process as well. The bitter chill I feel, mostly
in the tip of my nose, reminds me that I'm alive. All of it works together
to bring about a sense of peace, gives me needed distance from the stern
opposition that faces me upstairs.

	I sit for awhile. I'm not sure how long. Suddenly, someone plops
down beside me on the bench. I turn my head and see Lena. She's all
bundled up in a shawl, and she regards me gently before saying, "You have
been sitting out here for too long. You will be sick. Please come in."

	Such a sweet woman. I wonder if I'll be seeing her much in the
future. "Thank you, Lena, but I'd rather stay out here. I need to be alone
for awhile."

	She smiles gently. "It is not good to be alone when you are angry."

	"Who says I'm angry?"

	She shakes her head. "I know such things. Besides, when I came
upstairs to take the tray back, I heard you fighting."

	Oh. "No no. We weren't fighting." I re-think that. "Okay, we were
fighting a little. But I'm not mad at Scully. She has a right to be upset."

	"Why? Why should she be upset?"

	"Because she doesn't know Kry... Alex like I do. She thinks he's
bad."

	"But she is your friend, and you think that she should trust you
when you tell her Alex is good. You think she should wish you to be happy."

	"Yes, of course."

	"So, don't you think that you are even a little bit angry at how
she is acting?"

	Shit. Yeah, I guess I am angry. And trying a little too desperately
to hold it all in. I don't *want* to be mad at Scully. For so long, she's
been all I've had. I'm so used to calming myself down, drawing any anger
directed to her in and away. But I think it's too strong this time, and
it's not going away.

	It took an outsider to figure that out for me. "Yes, I suppose I
am a bit angry, even if I'm not showing it. And I have to deal with it.
Thank you for pointing that out."

	She pats my cheek. "That is okay. Sometimes we can not see what is
hiding inside us."

	Lena's being so good to me, treating me like her own son. I have
to know. I have to know how she can accept it so easily. "Lena, how are you
taking this so well? That Alex is in love with a man?"

	She looks up into the bare branches of the tree tops. "If there is
one thing I have learned in all of my years, it is that love is love, no
matter who it is between. It is a rare thing, to be treasured. And I am
happy that Alex is happy. You two, you will be good for each other."

	She is still gazing off into the distance, and I stare with awe at
her wrinkled face. What a remarkable little old woman! On impulse, I lean
over and embrace her. She turns and wraps her bony arms around me, rubbing
my back comfortingly. 

	When she draws away, she smiles, and asks, "Will you be coming
inside now?"

	"I... I still need a few minutes to think. But you've made me feel
much better Lena. Much much better. I don't know how to thank you."

	"Making my Alex happy is all the thank you I can ever ask for."
With that she rises, and is in the house before I can even formulate a
response.

	There's some saying about how the old and the young are the more
intuitive than everyone else. I just can't remember how it goes. But how
it goes doesn't really matter, because I've just seen for myself. Lena sure
can cut through all the bullshit and get to the heart of things. 

	Alex is like that about some things. But not all. I wonder how
things would have gone if he was honest to himself about how he felt about
me. If he was honest to me about how he felt about me. Considering how
deluded I was about my own feelings, telling me probably would've been a
bad thing.

	On the other hand, I suppose there's always the chance that it
could have made me see the spark in myself for what it was. I imagine what
it would have been like to find out...

	The night he kissed me. When he leaned in to press his lips upon
my cheek, I would have turned my head and pressed my lips against them.
Thrown my arms around him, dragged him down to the floor with me....

	In Tunguska. I would have taken him right on the floor of that
dirty cell. And we could have planned our escape together, and then he
would never have gotten thrown off the truck and.... no. I can't, it's too
hard. He would have been whole, if only....

	In Hong Kong. If I had known then, I wouldn't have knocked him
about, wouldn't have sent him into that bathroom... More pain. Because we
denied our hearts.

	Outside my building, after my father. He could have told me then,
spared so much pain. I would have thrown him against that brick wall,
kissed him, over and over. Until the pain and the drugs faded, until
everything faded except him. And then Scully would never have had to shoot
me. Well... nah. She wouldn't shoot me for kissing him. I *hope* she
wouldn't, anyway.

	And of course, all this pain could have been spared if he had
told me in the beginning. We could have worked together, to get him out,
worked together to bring them down. And if he had told me then that he could
give me their heads.... I would have kissed him so hard he wouldn't know
which way was up. And then I'd have peeled him out of his ugly suit,
washed the gel out of his hair. I'd have made love to him all night. I'd
have made him mine.

	If only... if only...

	All the ifs are interrupted when he sits down next to me. And they
don't matter, because he's back, and he's here *now*, and he's mine.

	I wrap my arms around him tightly, and feel the heat radiating
from his body. I don't think I realized quite how cold I was. I didn't feel
it until now, with his warmth surrounding me.

	"Lena tells me you're out here freezing your ass off."

	"I love you." I mumble into his shoulder.

	I feel him smile, and nuzzle my neck with his nose. "I know."

	"Good."

	"Now, are you going to tell me why you're out here trying to catch
pneumonia?"

	"I was just thinkin', that's all."

	"And you couldn't think someplace warm?"

	"You sound just like her."

	"Who?" he asks, confused. "Scully?"

	I snort at that. "No, stupid. Lena."

	"Oh. Well, I'm just worried, that's all."

	"That's okay. I understand. Thank you."

	"No problem." He pulls away. "So, can we go inside now?"

	"Can't we stay out here? It's so beautiful."

	"But you're cold."

	I put my arm around his shoulder, and lean my side against his.
"Not anymore."

	He sighs. "Alright, but just for a few minutes, okay? We have to
get going soon."

	Going? I sit up a bit straighter, filled with relief and excitement.
"You did it?"

	"Yup. Emailed the information to a 'news source', then emailed them
and told them so. They must have checked it out, because they emailed me
back and said that they'd leave us alone."

	"But?" There has to be a but.

	"But that if we screwed around with their plans and got killed in
the process, that it was our own fault. They're not actively after us, but,
if we get in their way, they won't hesitate to eliminate us, no matter what
the cost."

	"So we're okay for now?"

	"Yeah." he smiles shyly. "We can go home."

	I kiss his cheek. "Okay."

	He stands up and offers me his hand. The moon has just broken out
from behind the clouds. The snow reflects the light, intensifying it. It
lights him from behind, making him look like a magical fantasy that I
conjured up. But when I take his hand in my own, I know that he is real.
This fantastic creature is mine, and mine alone. Forever.

	And I know, as the snow crunches under our feet and his hand
clasps my own, that I'd have it no other way.


^*^*^*^*^
  The
  End
^*^*^*^*^

To be continued in Slip X


Translations- 

"Dobro pozhalovat' v nashu semyu, dorogoy!" 
Welcome to the family, my dear!

"Takoy ogon' v tvoeh glasah, kogda ty snova molod e vlublyon."
Such a twinkle in both your eyes. To be young and in love again!