Title:  Love Hurts

Author:  bizzzichick@yahoo.com  (Satina)

Website:  http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/xtasy

Rating:  NC-17

Keywords:  M/K, sex and violence

Disclaimer:  They're mine.  Alllllll mine.

Summary:  Cardinale figures out Krycek's weakness and
decides to use it to have a little fun.

NOTE:  Possible squicking ahead...blood, nonconsensual
sex, and violence.  Heed this warning and only proceed if you
think you can handle it.  Yes, I do reward you with a happy
ending for your troubles.  Sorry if that spoils it for some of
you, but I like to know what I'm getting into.

Archive:  Ask and ye shall receive.

Spoilers:  Well, no, but you might get more out of it if you
remember what a psycho asshole Cardinale is in the show.  If
you don't, take my word for it.  He is.

Feedback:  PLEASE please please!  It contributes to my
delinquency.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"That was a fucking close one."

I grunted and rolled over, squinting into my partner's eyes.  I
blinked, willing the dizziness to pass.  "Yeah," I mumbled
noncommittally.

"You can thank me later," Cardinale deadpanned, extending
his hand.

I took it and was yanked to my feet none-too-gently. I closed
my eyes against the wave of nausea that threatened to lay
me back on the floor, and when I opened them, Cardinale
was staring at me with a look of distaste on his unpretty face.

"So tell me, Krycek.  Why did you act like such a pussy?"

I frowned, for a minute not quite ready for the question. My
head still hurt from the butt of the FBI-issued Sig Sauer being
whacked into the side of it.  That was the last thing I
remembered.  I tried to think what Cardinale could be
referring to.

"I've never seen you so fucking useless, Krycek," Cardinale
spat, twirling his gun on his middle finger like some TV-
western washout.  "That stupid fibbie shouldn't have even
been able to land one, let alone knock you out."

Mulder.  Shit.  I jerked my head side to side, scanning the
filthy floor.  My eyes lit on their target, a lump of wrinkled
fabric curled in on itself.  My lips parted on a quiet intake of
breath. I couldn't make out any movement, and didn't know
whether Mulder was alive or dead.  I slowly swung my gaze
back around to meet Cardinale's, making every effort to keep
my expression stone-cold.

"Doesn't make me feel particularly safe as your partner,"
Cardinale went on, walking around me as if to assess my
physical condition, all the while still twirling his weapon. I
clenched and unclenched my fists uselessly, literally aching to
drive them into my partner's smug face.  "I could have been
killed."  His voice became thoughtful.  "You know," he said
slowly, "this is not the first time I've seen you go limp around
him."  He gestured toward the lump with his head and I
couldn't help but let my eyes dart over to Mulder and back.
I'd already figured out that Cardinale had relieved me of my
gun, and my mind was taking inventory of the other weapons
I'd had stashed on my person.  I'd never trusted or even half-
way liked Luis Cardinale, and I knew the ugly little psychopath
had no love for me.  I'd seen him do some very sick shit in
my time.  If Cardinale felt I was a weak link, I could be in
some very serious trouble here.

I cased the dingy, dark apartment in my head.  We were four
floors up in an abandoned complex in the bad part of town.
No one would even blink at a gunshot in this neighborhood.
Cardinale could drop me in a heartbeat and walk away
whistling. Christ, he'd probably spin a tale of Mulder shooting
me and him shooting Mulder that would end up getting him
promoted to head rent-a-gun.  I felt the bile rise.

"So, Krycek," said Cardinale casually.  "Why is it that you
never fight back when Mulder's around, eh?  I mean, I've
seen it before, but it was never in danger of getting *me*
killed before, so why give a shit?"  Cardinale suddenly
stepped up close, his grip on the gun tight and deadly.  "Got
a soft spot for him?" The barrel dug into my chest and I
gritted my teeth, knowing that no matter how impulsive and
unpredictable Cardinale was, one thing he was not was a
slow draw or a bad shot.  Which reminded me, I still didn't
know if Mulder was dead or alive.

"Maybe..." said Cardinale pensively, "during the time you
were 'partnered' with him, you did more than just gather
information, eh, pretty boy?"  The gun slid down my heaving
torso, the barrel clinking quietly against the button on the fly
of my jeans.  Cardinale shoved it roughly into my crotch and I
grimaced and struggled not to make a sound.  "Maybe soft
was the wrong word," said Cardinale, digging the barrel of
the gun into my not-at-all aroused genitals.  "I think you have
a *hard* spot for him." He shoved his pelvis into mine
suggestively.  I just stared into his wild eyes, trying not to
vomit or hit him.  He must have seen my intention in my eyes.

"Hands behind your back, pretty-boy," he ordered, giving my
now bruised flesh another rough prod. Seeing no alternative
that wouldn't end up with me getting my nuts blown off, I
complied.  I knew Luis Cardinale was just the sick fuck to do
it, too.  Like I said, I'd seen the man work. It never failed to
nauseate me, seeing the manic gleam in Cardinale's eyes as
he finished some poor innocent schmuck who got in the way
of the Project.  Hey, I never pretended to be innocent, but I
never got off on the killing I was hired to do. It was a job.
Nothing more, nothing less.  For Cardinale, I think the killing
was better than sex.

Cardinale walked around back of me and pulled the piano
wire out of my back pocket, one of the more easily accessible
concealed weapons I possessed.  It was a disappointment,
but I couldn't help the tiny sigh of relief at the removal of the
weapon from my crotch.

"Move and I kill you," said Cardinale, quickly wrapping the
thin wire around and around my wrists, cutting gleefully into
the sensitive flesh. He twisted the ends and wrapped again,
the gun shoved hard into my ribs.  Then when I couldn't
move without being slashed clean through, he came back
around in front of me.  The bloodlust was plainly visible on his
face, his color high, his eyes sparkling.  I figured myself a
dead man, and started thinking about how I could do him the
most damage before going out.  Then I remembered that
Mulder might still be alive, and if I stayed alive, too, I might be
able to help him.  I didn't realize I'd let my eyes cut briefly to
the side, where he still lay, unmoving.  But Cardinale noticed.

"He is alive," said Cardinale, showing his teeth in what might
in some circles pass for a smile.  "Makes things a lot more
fun, actually," he said, backing away, rubbing his chin with his
hand in a mock-considering gesture.

"How so?"  I sounded bored, irritated.  I find it usually covers
stark terror pretty well.

"Well, I'd have nothing really to play with if I'd killed him,
Krycek," said Cardinale, scratching his chin with the barrel of
his gun now in a show of unconcerned power.  I shot him a
look of pure death, my words careful, cold, and measured.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Luis?"

Cardinale got up and walked over to Mulder.  He pulled his
foot back and before I could do more than open my mouth,
he landed a vicious kick in Mulder's ribs.  I gritted my teeth,
my jaw clenching and unclenching as my hands flexed
against the wire.  I could feel the deep sting of it slicing
through flesh, the blood tickling as it ran down my hands.
Cardinale smiled.

"That is what I'm talking about," he said, tilting his head.
"For some crazy fucking reason, you don't like to see Fox
Mulder hurt.  I find that verrrry interesting."

For a moment, I considered bluffing the man who had us at
his mercy, but then I realized that Cardinale would like
nothing more than to call my bluff by doing something really
sickening to Mulder.  Shuddering, I realized Cardinale had
me.  I said nothing to indicate this, using all my mental energy
to try to see the weak spot in his plan.  For now, total
submission was the only tool I had.

"Not going to deny it?" asked Cardinale, genuinely pleased
and curious.  "I never took you for such an easy whore,
Krycek."  He smiled again.  "It actually takes some of the fun
out of this for me, though," he said, nudging Mulder's
unconscious form with the toe of his boot.  "I thought I might
get to beat the truth out of you."  He found Mulder's still,
splayed hand and pressed down with his boot, putting
obvious force behind it, smashing the long, graceful fingers
mercilessly.  I began to visualize all the ways I was going to
hurt Cardinale before finally allowing him to die.

"Turns out hurting Mulder is a *much* more effective way of
getting to you."  Cardinale stepped back from Mulder's form.
He smiled down at the inert body and then back up at me,
clearly thrilled with this afternoon's surprise entertainment.  I
breathed hotly through my nose and pictured myself peeling
the skin off Cardinale's hands.  I could almost hear the
screams.  I nearly smiled.

"So."  Cardinale broke my lovely train of thought.  "I have a
proposition for you."

I raised my chin fractionally.  The game was about to begin.

Cardinale shoved at Mulder's thigh with his foot, leaving dirty
scuff marks on the dark charcoal of his suit.  "Clearly, unlike
you, Alex, I very much enjoy seeing Mulder hurt," he said,
digging in with his heel.  I blinked slowly, only my visions of
driving a very small, dull knife into Cardinale's gut and
twisting slowly keeping me from crossing the distance and
doing something fatally stupid.

"So," said Cardinale, backing away from Mulder's body once
again.  "Here's the deal.  Either you hurt him," he stopped,
narrowing his gaze, "and I mean to my satisfaction, pretty-
boy..." he licked his lips excitedly.  "...or I do."  His voice was
calm, reasonable.  I knew he was not. "And if I do," he
added, "You get to watch, then after that, I kill him and then, I
kill you."  My lips parted involuntarily, my mouth dropping
open in shock as I realized just how sick my ex-partner was.
"Don't look so surprised," said Cardinale mildly.  "If you do a
really good job of hurting Mulder, I'll let *you* kill him and
then I might even give you a fighting chance to get away."  I
felt hope start to flicker.  He shrugged.  "I like a challenge."

I panted through my nose, knowing only that I had to stay
alive long enough to kill Cardinale, whatever that took.  I
knew I'd have to hurt Mulder, but I thought I could make it
look pretty good without doing any lasting damage.  I'd
played some S and M games in the past, including blood-
play, and things could look pretty gory in the end without
anyone even having permanent scars.  But I had to get
Mulder on board.  If he fought me, I knew we were both
dead.  Ironically, our survival depended on getting Mulder's
trust...in effect, getting Mulder to allow me to hurt him.

I didn't stand a chance.  We were both as good as dead.  But
as long as Mulder was still breathing, I had to try.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Well, first we need to wake up Sleeping Beauty, here," said
Cardinale, frowning.  "He's obviously deeply unconscious.  I
thought my little love-taps would rouse him, but evidently it's
going to take a firmer hand."

I looked over Mulder's body thoroughly for the first time since
waking up.  It looked as though Cardinale had beat him up,
either before or after knocking him unconscious.  And
obviously, dealing him more pain wasn't working to bring him
out of it.  I'd have to figure out something more creative.

"I'll need my hands free."

"Yes, you will," said Cardinale.  "But don't for one minute
think that's going to make things easier for you, Krycek." He
looked down at Mulder's body.  He bent slowly, looking up to
gauge my reaction.  I closed my eyes against the intense
need to rush across the room and kick Cardinale until his
insides were on his outside.  He smiled and got down on one
knee at Mulder's head.  He rolled him over onto his back, and
I could more clearly see the boot marks that could only have
been put there after Mulder was already on the ground.  His
face was a mass of scrapes, swellings, and spreading
bruises, and drying blood crusted his nose and mouth in a
parody of hooker-red lipstick.  My jaw ached from the grinding
of my teeth against one another.  I bit my tongue, focusing on
the pain to stay in control.

Cardinale fished out his own length of piano wire and pushed
one loop-end of it under Mulder's neck, then caught it and
pulled it up, threading the end through the loop on the other
end, making Mulder a wire noose.  He gave a gentle,
experimental tug, smiling faintly at the tiny red line caused by
the ultra-thin metal wire tightening on bare skin.  I knew if he
tugged hard enough, that wire would cut off Mulder's
breathing, then quickly lacerate the carotid artery.  I could
feel the effects of that wire for myself around my burning
wrists, and I'd used it often enough that I knew its innocuous
appearance hid a deadly potential.  I watched, sick, as
Cardinale then grabbed a length of rope from behind Mulder,
tying one end to the piano wire's loop- end, then standing
and letting out the rope as he backed away.  He seated
himself in the only chair in the room, putting his boots up on
the lone wooden table.  He tugged at the rope and I watched
as the wire tightened just slightly, cutting off Mulder's air
supply, and Mulder choked in his sleep, struggling to breathe.

"Enough!  What do you want me to do?"

"Come here," said Cardinale, letting the rope go slack. "Back
toward me slowly.  I'm going to free your hands so we can
have some real fun here."

I nearly swooned at the mental picture of using my brief
limited advantage to spin around and rip Cardinale's smug
tongue out of his skull, but my hands were practically useless,
refusing to respond to my commands to move, and I knew
that I'd need some time to get them functional again after
having them bound so tightly.  I breathed my homicidal
images back and turned, backing toward Cardinale with
careful, measured steps.

"Stop," Cardinale ordered, as I got up to the table. I felt his
hand tugging at the wire, roughly untwisting and unwrapping
it, his skin sliding against the blood-slicked flesh of my wrists
as he worked it out of the cuts and grooves it had caused in
my skin.  My wrists stung and ached, my hands searing hot,
numb and heavy. Cardinale yanked the wire away and
shoved me forward with a hard kick to the small of my back.  I
stumbled forward, bringing my burning hands around in front
of me, fingers curled into claws with the need to scratch
through Cardinale's flesh.  I felt like less than a human, just a
hunched over beast of murderous intent.  I tried to keep my
head clear, to focus on making Cardinale fall complacent, so
that I could grab any advantage that might arise.

"Turn around."  I did, flexing and unflexing my fists, the blood
pumping from the cuts and squeezing through my fists, falling
in large droplets to the floor.   "Now, you are not a stupid
man," said Cardinale, giving me a measuring look.  "You
know what I will do if I am not pleased with your
performance."  For emphasis, he tugged on the rope and
Mulder jerked slightly, the choking sounds starting once
again.

"I get it!  I get it!"  I didn't like the note of desperation that
had crept into my voice.

"Good."  Cardinale let the rope go slack again and Mulder's
returning labored breathing was balm to my soul.  "Now,"
said Cardinale, putting his feet back up on the table.  "Wake
him up."

I let out a long, quiet, relieved breath at finally, finally being
allowed to go to Mulder.  My hands were shaking as I
lowered myself to my knees beside the still form.  I had no
idea how I was going to rouse a man who had stayed out
cold through a vicious kick to the ribs, having his hand
stepped on, and the dig into his thigh, to say nothing of what
might have happened to him while I was out.  I knew pain
was not the way to do it.  But maybe...If I could get through to
his mind, somehow shake him, psychologically speaking, I
could bring him back up to me.

I leaned in, smelling the dirt from Cardinale's boots, and
under that, the dried blood.  I put my lips to his ear.

"Mulder!"

Nothing.  I cleared my throat and spoke louder, almost
yelling.  "Mulder!  Wake up!"

"That's not working, Krycek," Cardinale warned.  " I said hurt
him."

I turned.  "Hurting him isn't going to wake him up.  We've
seen that.  But considering how much he hates me, hearing
my voice just might."  Sometimes the truth is the only thing
that will set you free.  I could see that Cardinale was seriously
considering my words.  I sighed. "Won't he be more fun
awake than asleep, Luis?" I said quietly.  "Just let me work,
here."

Cardinale finally decided I was right.  "Okay," he nodded.
"You wake him any way you want to, pretty boy."  He looked
at Mulder's body then directly at my crotch, raising his eyes
slowly to meet mine.  I couldn't let his leering get to me. "Any
way you want," he went on.  "But after he's awake, the kid
gloves are off. I want to see him suffer. Got it?"  He tugged at
the rope once.

"Got it."  I turned back to Mulder and leaned over him once
more.  I knew it was time to play my one trump card.  And I
knew it was a good one.  I bent over, brushing Mulder's
bruised cheek with one bloody finger, leaving a fresh smear
across the dirt and scrapes.  I brought my lips to within inches
of Mulder's and spoke, staring at the closed eyes in front of
me, willing them with everything I had, to open. Open.

"Mulder," I breathed, letting the word whisper out across his
lips, hot breath caressing his battered skin.  I heard the chair
creak behind me, but ignored the sound, putting Cardinale's
presence out of my mind for now. Right this moment, my one
goal was to wake Mulder before Cardinale decided on a more
interesting way to go.  I knew I was showing a very
dangerous vulnerability here, but I knew I had absolutely
nothing to lose with Cardinale, who had already figured it all
out for himself.  And I decided that it was worth the risk to
wake Mulder and possibly get him to believe that I was not
the enemy.  Only with his cooperation could I make any kind
of plan work.  I stroked the hair off Mulder's forehead, leaving
another fresh smear of my blood, and leaned in closer, my
lips brushing against his ear.

"Mulder.  You've got to wake up."  I thought I saw a slight
twitch and my heart skipped a beat. "That's it, Mulder," I
whispered loudly.  "Come on up here and beat the shit out of
me, partner."  I watched the lashes flicker slightly then still
again.  It wasn't enough.  It was time to pull out the big guns.

What the fuck. I was probably going to die anyway. Why not
go out in a blaze of glory?  I decided to give Mulder the one
thing he might come back for.  The truth.

"Mulder..."  I made my voice more seductive. "Fox..."  I knew
how he hated to be called by his first name. "Please...please
wake up for me.  You have to wake up for me."  I was
sounding more and more desperate now, and I could almost
see the wire tightening around the pale throat in front of me,
although Cardinale had made no move yet to show his
growing impatience.  The situation was serious. Code red.  I
took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage I
had.  I spoke hotly, low and intense, right in the canal of his
perfect ear.  "You have to wake up, Mulder. Because...I love
you."  I felt a cold blanket of fear wash over at me at finally
saying words I'd not even allowed myself to think, but as
Mulder twitched beneath me, I knew I'd made the right
decision.  I heard a low chuckle from behind but gave it no
more attention than a mosquito's buzz.

"That's it, Fox.  Come on up here. We have some work to
do," I said softly in Mulder's ear, using my thumb to stroke
his jaw, the other hand rubbing at his arm gently, as if to
warm it.

"This is better than I thought it would be," said Cardinale,
sounding slightly breathless.  "I like where this is going."

I closed my eyes and swallowed, realizing I had just added
sex to what until now had been about only pain.  I knew that
Mulder would be much more likely to recover fully from
physical abuse, but that sexual assault was likely to finally
break his tortured mind.  But I couldn't help it.  The thought of
inflicting brutal, mindless pain on Mulder was like cutting my
own arm off.  I didn't even know if I could do it to save his life.
But touching him...the way I'd always wanted to...even
without his consent...I knew I could do that.  Even with a
monster like Cardinale watching.

"Oh God, Mulder.  I'll make it as good as I can," I said
absently, not even realizing my thoughts were whispering
themselves into his ear.  I brushed a soft kiss over his
earlobe and heard a tiny grunt issue from his throat.  I quickly
rose up, bringing my face in front of Mulder's, just inches
away, staring at the now flickering eyelids as they struggled
to open.  I smoothed the wrinkled brow, murmuring, "That's
it.  That's it.  Come back to me, Fox.  Come on back to me."

Suddenly, Mulder's eyes flew open and he jerked back, his
hands coming up to push at me, though they were still
obviously very weak and barely under his control.  I knew I
had a very small window of time.  Holding his arms down with
my hands, I leaned in to his ear again and spoke quickly.
"Mulder, listen.  Luis Cardinale's got both of us and he wants
to see me hurt you.  Don't ask me why.  I don't want to hurt
you, but if I don't, he'll kill you, so please, please...play along
and act like I'm really making you suffer."

"Wha' the fuck?" Mulder slurred, licking at his cracked and
swollen lips.  He struggled to get up, coming up against the
wire around his throat, raising his hands to dislodge it.  His
eyes went wide as the wire suddenly tightened, cutting into
his skin and cutting off his breathing.

"Don't!  Don't fight him, Mulder!"  I couldn't keep the
desperation out of my voice now as I watched Mulder pull
ineffectively at the blood-slippery wire, causing Cardinale to
laugh and pull it tighter, his gun leveled at both of us.
Mulder's choking sounds ceased altogether and his eyes
began to protrude, his face going purple as his nails
scratched at his bleeding neck.  I grabbed at his hands,
yanking them forcibly away from his throat with a sob.
"Please, Mulder!  You've got to trust me!  Please!  God!
Don't fight!"  To my intense relief and surprise, Mulder's
hands went limp in my grasp.  Then his eyes started to roll
back into his head.  "NO!" I screamed, and Cardinale let the
wire go completely slack, finally, chuckling breathlessly as I
tugged the bloody wire out of the deep imprint around
Mulder's throat.  The artery had not been nicked.  Yet.  My
fingers shook with relief as I loosened the wire loop.  I heard
Cardinale cock the gun behind me to remind me not to try
anything stupid.

Mulder gasped and wheezed, his eyelids fluttering as he
struggled not to pass out again.  But his hands didn't raise
from his lap as he let me loosen the wire from around his
neck.  Finally, he recovered his breathing, and trained wide,
terrified eyes on me.

I lost my breath at the fear and pain in that gaze.  I kept my
voice quiet, just enough for Mulder to hear.  "I'll get us out of
this alive, Mulder.  I swear it.  Just trust me.  This one
time...trust me."  Mulder swallowed and the slight movement
of his throat caused a fresh stream of blood to seep from his
shallow wound.  Then, my breath caught as I saw the almost
imperceptible downward twitch of Mulder's head that
indicated his acceptance of my plan.  "Thank you," I
mouthed, eyes closing in relief for a moment.  I opened them
to find his locked on me, waiting.  Hesitantly trusting.

"This is getting booooring," warned Cardinale, thwapping the
barrel of his gun absently against his thigh.

I turned.  "What do you want me to do first?"

"You know," said Cardinale thoughtfully, swinging the end of
the rope around in a lazy circle.  "I think I want you to take off
your clothes."

So it starts, I thought, feeling my stomach do a sick flip.  But it
wasn't as if I hadn't taken my clothes off for the job before.  I
turned and met Mulder's shocked look for just a moment,
then blocked out the painful sight of the parted, cracked lips
and stood, squaring my shoulders.  "Sure, whatever."

I quickly removed my clothing, letting it fall at my feet in an
untidy heap.  I didn't look at Mulder, but I could hear the loud
breathing from the area at my feet.  I pulled off my boots and
socks, and, completely naked now, put my sticky wrists
behind my back, stepping my feet apart in an at-ease
position, waiting for the next command.

"Niiiiice," said Cardinale approvingly.  "Don't you think so,
Fox?" Mulder said nothing.  Cardinale frowned and tugged
once on the rope.  "I said, Don't you think so, Fox?" Mulder
gasped at the sudden pain at his so-recently abused neck.
"Y...yes," he said quietly, not looking at me.  I just raised my
chin slightly, remaining still, awaiting Cardinale's orders.

"Good," said Cardinale, relaxing back into the chair.  "Next
time you answer me quickly, Fox," he said reprovingly.
Mulder nodded slightly.  "Okay," he said decisively.  "Krycek.
I want you to hit him.  And I want you to make it good."

I blinked rapidly for a moment, wondering if I could go
through with this, then as I considered the alternative, I
slammed my look of cool detachment into place and turned
around.  I encountered a laser-focused set of hazel eyes
staring up at me from the floor.  "Get up."  I kept my voice
cold and quiet.  Mulder rose up, pushing himself off the dirty
floor and brushing his hands on his dusty, rumpled suit as he
stood, obviously pained and moving slowly.  We were eye to
eye now, me naked, but him at the disadvantage, that fatal
piano wire cutting into his pale throat.  Without warning, I
brought my hand up and slapped the back of it sharply
across his face, using the flat of it to make a loud smack, but
putting no real force behind the noisy blow.

Either Mulder was still very dazed from his earlier beating or
he was playing along.  He fell sideways, going to his knees,
his head hanging low as he shook it to clear it.  I was already
sorry.  Hurting Mulder like this...standing over him with intent
to harm him...it was so wrong.  It was not the way things were
supposed to be.  But I heard Cardinale's quiet laugh and felt
some measure of relief at having pleased him.

"Ever hear that expression, 'kick a man while he's down'?"
asked Cardinale.  "Do it."

I was grateful for my bare feet as I didn't hesitate in rearing
back with my right leg and bringing it forward, using the top of
my foot to lift Mulder off the floor in what looked like a vicious
kick to what I knew were, truly, already damaged ribs.  I tried
to focus the impact on the sternum, where there was likely to
be the least amount of injury and the most amount of
protection, and watched as Mulder's body lifted two feet in
the air and fell sideways, his face a mask of pain.

"This must be a dream come true for you, Krycek," he
gasped out, eyes squeezed tight, his arms wrapped around
his tortured middle.  I almost couldn't stop myself from telling
him how wrong he was.  How wrong *this* was.  But I had a
job to do, so I kept my face blank and said nothing, looking
straight ahead.

"I don't think so," came a sneering voice from behind me. "I
think this is harder on poor fairy-boy here than it is for you,
Mulder," he continued, his words ringing so true they nearly
stole my strength.  Mulder said nothing, struggling to school
his face into an expression of resistant stubbornness.  I could
feel the hate radiating from him in waves.  I tried to block it
with emanations of a completely different kind, struggling to
catch his eyes and transmit my thoughts.  He kept his gaze
averted, and, sighing, I fixed mine on a spot on the wall
behind him, awaiting my next order.

"Krycek!" I turned around just in time to catch a wicked blade
being tossed in my direction.  "Use this."  I barely escaped
having the sharp edge slice through my palms or embed itself
in my chest, but caught it by the hilt at the last moment.  I
imagined what it would feel like...the resistance, the tug of it
cutting through the fascia of Cardinale's gut.  Gripping the
handle tightly, I turned back to Mulder, who had looked up
from the floor to see what Cardinale had given me.  His eyes
went to the blade then quickly flicked up to my own. "It's
okay," I mouthed, adjusting my grip on the knife handle. He
looked like he absolutely didn't believe me.  I didn't blame
him.

"Get him naked," said Cardinale quietly, not even bothering
to tug on the wire, now quite sure of his hold over me.  The
confidence was a tiny piece of evidence that my plan might
work.  If I could get him to drop his attention at just the right
time, he'd never even see me coming.  That hope gave me
the strength to do what came next.

I lowered myself to one knee beside Mulder.  "I'm sorry," I
mouthed.  Mulder started to pull away and encountered the
resistance of the wire pulling tight.  He stilled, breathing hard,
and I could see his hands trembling as he scratched at the
rough wood floor.

"And make it hurt," added Cardinale with a sneer.  I closed
my eyes, tightening my hold on the knife, then opened them.
I held Mulder's panicked gaze with my own and spoke.

"Turn over."  Mulder's breathing sped up and his eyes
narrowed.  "Do it!" I spat, raising the knife to his blood-
crusted throat.  He turned over, scowling, obviously angry
and terrified.  "Hands behind your back."  My voice was
coming out more hoarse and gravelly than I had expected,
and I cleared my throat, willing it to sound strong and
undefyable.  To my immense relief, Mulder did as told,
assuming the handcuff position.  I climbed on top of him,
pressing one knee into the small of his back, yanking the
bottom of his jacket out from under it, then grabbing the top
collar of the jacket and jerking it roughly down his arms.  I
pried them apart to remove the jacket, and quickly tossed it to
the side.  Mulder's back was twitching, the fine cotton dress
shirt wet with perspiration under me as I pressed his hands
back together.

"I said hurt him!" Cardinale sounded very impatient.  I took a
deep breath and calmly faced him.

"I have him in a very vulnerable position, Luis," I said,
teasingly.  Cardinale just stared at me.  "I think he's probably
a lot more scared of what could happen to him like this, than
of a few bruises and cuts, don't you think?"

Cardinale's mouth curved up in a leer and he huffed out a
chuckle.  "Get on with it, then," he said, settling back into his
chair comfortably.  "And use that fucking knife, pansy-ass."  I
turned around quickly, not wanting him to see the murderous
rage building behind my eyes.  I breathed in deeply and saw
that Mulder had calmed slightly, lying still, on his stomach,
hands tightly clasped at the small of his back.

It was time for blood-play.  I briefly wondered if Mulder had
ever done anything like that in his sexual experimentation.  I
hoped he had, and comforted myself with the knowledge that
being as open to extreme possibilities as he is, he had
probably tried just about everything.

Of course, that didn't mean he had enjoyed it.

I settled into position, straddling Mulder's thighs, getting
comfortable.  Against my will, I felt my cock hardening as my
balls slid against the tense muscles.  His body immediately
stiffened, becoming alert and hyper aware once again.

I whispered, so low that I could barely hear it myself.  "I won't
hurt you."  Of course, I knew that what I was going to do was
going to hurt, but I was letting him know that other than the
pain, he had nothing to fear.  I wouldn't let things go too far.  I
saw his shoulders relax just slightly and knew he had heard
me.

Unable to put it off any longer for fear of Cardinale's
impatience, I reached forward and slid the super-sharp blade
of the knife down the center of his back, slicing through the
thin cotton of his dress shirt effortlessly and leaving a tiny red
line in its wake.  I heard Mulder's sharp intake of breath and
watched his shoulders bunch, as his head and chest came up
off the floor, arching at the sting.  I tried to ignore it and kept
the knife moving, parting the fabric all the way to the
waistband of his pants.  I gave him a moment to settle into
the burn I knew he was feeling down his back, and then
shifted my grip on the knife, turning it blade side up.

I slid it underneath the top of his pants, working it under the
soft cotton knit of his underwear and brushing the dull side of
the blade down between his ass cheeks.  His hips squirmed
beneath me in reaction.  I steadied myself with my hand on
his hip and jerked upward suddenly, cutting through fabric
and leather belt in one quick motion.  He made a sound of
surprise and fear and the top of his pale, perfect ass was
bared to me.  My cock swelled, rising up away from the fabric
of his pants, and I saw his buttocks tense and jerk as the cool
air brushed across them.  I had the intense urge to lean
forward and stroke my tongue across that smooth, twitching
flesh.  But I knew that wasn't what Cardinale wanted.
Preparing him for the harsher touch to come, I stroked
across his buttocks with my fingers, making him shiver and
struggle under my touch.  Before he could finish dealing with
that soft caress, I brought the knife blade down to the pale
flesh and stroked it quickly sideways, opening up a long,
shallow gash across the top of one cheek.

I heard Cardinale's intake of breath behind me nearly
obliterate Mulder's own hiss of pain and knew I'd pleased
him.  I could no longer hold back my own urges, and hunched
over and extended my tongue, licking away the widening trail
of blood seeping from the shallow wound.  Mulder's body
went completely rigid under me, as if this touch was even
more terrible for him than the knife's stinging assault.  I
brushed soft kisses across the cut I'd made, trying to take
back the pain I'd dealt him.  My dick was completely hard
now, pressed against the backs of his thighs as I leaned over
him, laving his ass and then his back with kisses and licks.

"More," growled Cardinale from behind me, and somehow, I
knew he didn't mean kisses.  I closed my eyes and felt
Mulder tense beneath me.  I raised up off of his body,
shuddering slightly as the pressure on my cock was relieved
and it bobbed free.  I knew he could feel it.  I knew he was
sickened by it.  I only hoped he knew that it wasn't the pain I
was inflicting that was arousing me, but my being allowed to
touch him and offer him the comfort afterwards.

"Mark him," came the command from behind me.  I frowned.
Hadn't I just done that?  I could see the marks, and was sure
Cardinale could, too.  Did he want me to bite him, and leave
my mark that way?  I started to lean forward again, my mouth
opening in anticipation of sucking his flesh between my lips
and teeth.

"With the knife, asshole," Cardinale growled behind me.
Sighing,  I raised back up and gripped the hilt tightly once
again.  With my other hand, I reached up and pulled the
parted fabric of Mulder's ruined shirt away, baring the entire
expanse of his finely muscled back.  I couldn't help but stroke
over it with my hand, feeling the muscles jump and twitch
beneath my fingers.  I knew he didn't know, moment to
moment, whether to expect my lips, my fingers, or the knife.
I'd been in that situation before, and had been intensely
excited by it.  I didn't think it was having the same effect on
him.  Not when it was my lips and my hands in competition
with the blade.  He'd probably prefer the knife.  I raised it to
one perfectly sculpted shoulder blade and lowered the edge
to the perspiring skin.

"What do you want?" I asked, knowing he'd realize I was
asking him what to write.

"How about 'Fox + Alex'," he said sarcastically.  "In a big
ole' heart."  He giggled and I turned to look at him, doubting
his sanity for not the first time.  He grinned back at me,
waggling his brows, clearly delighted with his little game.  I
turned back to the canvas before me.  I lowered my finger
first, tracing the letters with the tip, and Mulder jerked
beneath me as if it were the blade marking him.  I knew that
would make the sting easier to take.  I took my fingertip away,
bringing it to my lips absently and licking away Mulder's
sweat, then lowered the point of the knife and wrote quickly,
making rapid, shallow cuts, hearing Mulder hiss and feeling
his body writhe below me.  I worked as quickly as I could,
listening to Cardinale's accelerated breathing behind me,
putting exactly what he'd ordered me to in red across the
beautiful flesh.  When the marks were finished, I blew across
them to cool the burn, and rubbed the flesh around the heart
to take his focus from the pain.  I looked down at the words
and felt my vision blur.  My love for him finally expressed and
causing him every kind of agony imaginable.  I saw a tear fall
onto his heated skin, the flesh barely twitching at its contact. I
blinked, clearing my vision, steeling my resolve.  I slowly,
carefully licked Mulder's blood from the blade of the knife.

I turned and was not surprised to see Cardinale's hand
resting on the bulge in his jeans, fingers idly stroking while
still holding the gun.  I sighed and lifted my chin, waiting for
the inevitable.  If I could get him 'interested' enough, his
attention would falter.  And when it did, I planned to be ready.
So fucking ready.

"Oh yeah," said Cardinale in a low, breathy rumble.  "I knew
you wouldn't disappoint me."  I heard the unmistakable
sound of his zipper being lowered.  Mulder moaned piteously,
and I rubbed a small, unnoticeable circle in the small of his
back with my thumb, trying to offer some reassurance.

"I think I'm ready to see something more from you," said
Cardinale, breathing heavily.  "Turn him over."

I felt Mulder tense under me once more, and slid my hand
down to his hip gently.  "It's okay," I murmured very quietly.
"I have a plan."  He didn't relax, and I rubbed a soft arc on
his hipbone as I climbed off him and pulled on his hips,
turning him face up.  His eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth
a thin white line, and as he came to rest on his back, hands
still behind and now under him, I frowned in surprise.

Mulder was obviously very erect.  His cock was pushing at
the fabric of his slacks, jumping slightly as I looked at it.  I let
out a sigh of both relief and pleasure, knowing that, even if it
was against his will and he'd hate me for it forever, Mulder
was getting some measure of physical arousal out of this.  I
couldn't help but smile slightly.  Mulder's eyes opened and
quickly focused on me, seeing the smile.  They narrowed and
it faded.  I looked down at the floor, ashamed.  Mulder didn't
want to enjoy this.  His pleasure was just one more pain for
him.  I sighed.  There was nothing I could do to make this
easier.  I turned my attention back to the plan.

"Mulder's in the game," said Cardinale gleefully, obviously
taking note of the same physical reaction I had.  I ground my
teeth in frustration, wanting to spare Mulder the shame but
knowing I was only going to be forced to inflict more before I
was through.  Cardinale's voice was suggestive.  "Let's get
him more comfortable, shall we?"

I turned, eyes narrowed and questioning, unsure what he
meant.  He had his cock out of his pants now, gripped in his
fist, the gun laying on the table in front him.  The other hand
was laid over the rope on his thigh, gripping it tightly.  So far
so good.  "What do you mean?" I asked softly, keeping my
voice deferential, not wanting to lose the ground I'd just
gained.

"Take his clothes off, you fucking moron," said Cardinale.  I
turned back to Mulder, whose eyes had gone wide.  "I'm
sorry," I mouthed again, reaching for his arms and pulling
them out from under his back.  They were tense and shaking,
and I knew he wanted so badly to strike out at me, and I
wanted nothing so badly as to feel his fists connect with my
nose, giving me an explosion of pain that would offer him
some measure of comfort.  I vowed that later, when we were
both safe, I would give him the opportunity to exact his
revenge.  I knew he would need it.  I needed it, too.

As Mulder's back came into contact with the floor, his mouth
tightened, the cuts being abraded by the rough, dirty wood.  I
quickly leaned forward, and without giving myself a chance to
think better of it, grabbed him by the hair and yanked him
forward.  "Get up," I said coarsely.  He quickly sat up,
flashing daggers at me.  Cardinale laughed behind me.  I
looked Mulder in the eye.  "You heard him, Mulder.  Take
them off."  I kept my face void of expression.  I knew he
didn't want my kindness, my pity.  I knew it would be easier
the more he could hate me.  And I knew all about how to give
him that. He looked up at me, his eyes full of fear and anger,
and I let go of his hair and looked away, raising my chin
contemptuously.  I focused my attention on that spot on the
wall and waited for him to obey.

Slowly, carefully, he reached up and began unbuttoning his
ruined shirt, then peeled it carefully from his arms, wincing
here and there as his cuts were irritated by his movements.
He was sweating with his nervousness and I wanted to lick it
away before it could trickle into his wounds and make them
sting worse.  I just stood there like a Nazi, waiting for him to
get naked at my feet.  He struggled to stand, and for a
moment, I considered giving him a hand up, but then I
remembered that the more he could hate me, the easier this
would be for him, and so I stepped back, letting him get
himself to his feet.  His tattered pants started to fall as he
stood, and resignedly, he pushed them the rest of the way
down his legs.  I could hear his stuttering breaths as he
struggled to stay in control and not lose it in front of his
enemies.  I closed my eyes, sobered by his strength.  He
kicked away his shoes and peeled off his socks, then stood,
raising his chin defiantly, gloriously nude.

I couldn't help but look at him then.  I looked into his eyes
first, and they looked right through me, refusing to see me.
His hair was wet with perspiration and sticking to his
forehead, which showed smears of what I knew to be my own
blood, as well as dirt and bruises in the shape of Cardinale's
boots.  His nose was also bloodied, but it had dried, and his
lips were cracked and swollen.  As I watched, his tongue
came out and licked nervously at the dried blood.  I
swallowed as the sight aroused me more than it should have.
I knew Mulder could see how much I wanted him.  And I
knew how much it sickened him.

I let my gaze travel downward, squinting in disgust and horror
at the angry line of red around his neck and the dried trails of
blood trickling down from it to gather in the hollow of his
throat.  I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed,
and I wanted to step forward and press my lips against that
wounded flesh, kissing away the pain and injury, licking away
the blood and sweat.  I blinked and my eyes travelled
downward, over his bruised and reddened ribs and stomach,
and I ceased to breathe as I finally let myself look lower.

My tongue stroked across my bottom lip involuntarily as I
stared at his fully erect cock, jutting out toward me, his fists
clenched at his sides.  It was long and thick, but not
humongous, rigid and strong but not overly veiny and
bulbous.  In short, it was utterly beautiful, more so than I had
even imagined.  My lips parted on a sigh and I felt my own
erection jerk, the tip of my cock smearing precum on my
belly.  As I watched, Mulder's cock twitched in response.  So
he could see my need.  And he was responding to it.

This should have been so beautiful.  So wonderful and magic
and amazing.  Instead, it was horrible and sad and shameful.
But I couldn't stop myself from wanting him.  Wanting to
touch him and hear him moan.  I could almost forget this was
going to happen in front of Cardinale.

And that was dangerous.  So very dangerous, because my
plan depended on my being in control when Cardinale was
not.  I couldn't let myself get lost in Mulder.  I couldn't afford
the cost.  I steeled my expression and looked back up into
Mulder's eyes.  I ignored the darkened pupils and the loud
breaths I could hear coming from his swollen nose and lips.  I
focused on his hate.  And how much it hurt me to know it was
there.

"Suck me."  His lips parted in surprise, a look of hurt crossing
his face.  I made my voice harder and reached forward
quickly, shoving his head downward.  "On your knees,
Mulder.  Do it."  I felt physically ill as his mouth hardened in a
line and he slowly lowered himself to his knees, head
hanging.  I stepped in, brushing my cock against his
forehead.  I reached down and grabbed him by the hair
again.  I could hear Cardinale's breathing getting louder and
faster behind me.  I pulled his head up slowly, the tip of my
cock sliding softly against his nose and coming to rest on his
closed lips.  I was about to bark out another order when the
lips opened and his tongue came out, delicately licking away
the drops of precum that had oozed out at the first touch of
his skin.

I gasped loudly, my knees nearly going out from under me,
my eyes fluttering closed.  God, no, Mulder.  It can't be this
good.  I have to stay alert, and this feels so good it's worth
dying for.  That thought sobered me, because I knew that if I
died, Mulder would, too, and that was not worth anything.  I
struggled not to focus on the sensation of that hot tongue
rasping against the head of my dick, the cracked lips closing
softly on the sensitive flesh.  I swallowed hard and bit my
tongue, blood filling my mouth.  As the ringing in my ears
subsided, I stroked my hand through Mulder's hair and heard
the slapping of flesh on flesh behind me as Cardinale started
up in earnest.

"Yeah...more," he grunted.  I didn't even have to say
anything.  Mulder's mouth opened wider, taking me deeper,
taking more and more of my self control away from me.  He
pulled back, and used the drool that had accumulated to wet
his battered lips before stretching them around my width
again and taking me further.  I groaned deeply, my hips
starting to buck forward, thrusting gently into his softly
sucking mouth.

"Oh Mulder..." I sighed, still holding the knife loosely in one
hand, nearly dropping it as I felt his mouth tug at me, pulling
me deeper, sucking me harder now, his tongue working at
the underside of my shaft.  So good.  This was better than it
was supposed to be.  Better than my fantasies.  And so
awful.

Cardinale's voice came from behind me, breathy and low.
"Fuck his mouth...fuck it hard...do it..."  Mulder looked up at
me for the first time since taking my cock into his mouth, and
his eyes blinked slowly...I could swear they were telling me
that it was okay...to just do it.  I tried to use mine to let him
know that it was only a matter of moments...that my plan was
working and soon it would all be over.  As Mulder widened his
jaw, preparing to take me deeper, I gripped his hair again,
holding his head in place, and began to thrust into his face,
firmly and deeply.  I felt my cock press against the back of his
throat and heard him gag and slurp and struggle to relax and
take me in.  I pushed harder, feeling my climax coil in my
belly, threatening to take me over.

I was losing it.  Losing my grip on the here and now and
when my moment came I wasn't going to be able to take it.
But I couldn't stop...I could hear Cardinale's grunts and
moans behind me and knew he was close...really close.  I
continued thrusting into Mulder's throat, listening to him grunt
and gag and hum as he struggled to take me in, and I
lowered the blade to my thigh and started making short, jerky
cuts in it to distract me from the intense pleasure he was
giving me.  I forced my eyes open, ramming myself down
Mulder's throat as I pushed the knife into my flesh.  It was
working.  As the pain started to force the wave of my orgasm
to subside, I heard the unmistakable sound of Luis
Cardinale's begin.

At the first deep, breathy groan, I tightened my grip on the
knife and pulled myself from Mulder's surprised mouth,
causing him to fall forward.  I whirled around, bringing the
point down square in the top of Cardinale's forearm, driving it
through with the force of my hatred, pinning his arm to his
thigh.  He screamed, and his fingers spasmed open,
releasing his grip on the rope completely.  Before he could
even take another breath, I grabbed the gun from the table
and dealt him a smashing blow across the face with all of my
strength, splattering blood across the wall to the side of him,
and knocking him sideways out of the chair to the floor.

I grabbed the end of the rope and tossed it backward, giving
Mulder his freedom, and turned quickly back to Cardinale.
He was unconscious and bleeding copiously from his impaled
arm and thigh.  I reached forward and yanked the blade out,
sliding it through muscle and skin easily, realizing I had been
lucky enough to shove it right between the gap created by the
radius and ulna of the forearm.  A nice, smooth, swift cut
clear through to the thigh, where the point of the blade had
lodged nicely in the thick bone.  I wiped the knife's gory blade
clean on his pants and stepped back as the blood began to
pool around his body.  I leveled the gun at him, swallowing
back the intense urge to shoot him, wanting instead to wait
until he was conscious to torture him.  I felt Mulder come up
behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"It's over."

The sound of his voice washed over me like clean, warm
water and I felt my breath leave me in a rush.  Yes, it was
over.  I was safe, and much more importantly, Mulder was
safe.  I looked down at the floor, realizing only now what we
had to deal with.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Mulder..."  I needed to slide the blade across
my thigh again, to obliterate my emotional pain with a sharp
physical one.  I lowered my arm and lined the blade up
against my flesh, but felt Mulder's hand close around my
wrist, hard.

"Stop it.  It wasn't your fault."  So soft.  His voice was so soft,
while his grip was so hard.  He squeezed against the sliced
flesh and I relented, letting him bring my wrist up and away
from my leg.  "Give me the knife."  For a moment, I
considered the fact that he might want to kill me with it.  Then
I realized that I really didn't care.  The only thing...the one
and only thing that mattered was that Mulder was alive and it
was over.  I didn't have to hurt him anymore.

I handed him the knife wordlessly, and then turned around
and put the gun in his other hand.  He took them from me
gently, then, in a move that stole the remaining breath from
my lungs, pulled me into a hard embrace.  My arms came up
immediately and wrapped around him tightly, and I could feel
our hearts beating against one another, fast and strong.

"I'm so sorry...there was no other way...I never wanted to
hurt you..."  I spoke against the side of his neck, and without
meaning to, started to kiss him there, closing my eyes,
carefully avoiding the ugly line of red.

"I know...Ssshhhh...I know, Alex."  I felt his lips move against
the side of my neck and sighed at the sound of my first name
being spoken so softly.  It broke me like no amount of
physical torture ever could, and I began to shudder and
shake against him, breathing back the tears I refused to let
fall.  I channeled the intensity into my desire for him instead,
my hands beginning to squeeze and stroke, my tongue
licking at the sweat and blood on his neck, my cock crushed
hard against his and pulsing.  Then I realized that I was just
victimizing him again and I jerked back, pushing him away
from me.

"Jesus...fuck, Mulder, I'm sorry...I didn't mean..." I stared at
the floor, still tasting him on my lips, wanting to die with how
much I wanted him, and how much I wanted *not* to.

He stepped in toward me again, raising him arms to pull me
in against him.  No, Mulder, my brain shouted.  I can't be this
close to you and not have you.  Please...don't do this...  I
squeezed my eyes shut, keeping my hands at my sides,
willing myself not to touch him, not to respond.  I lost all hope
of that, however, when I felt his lips press against mine, his
arms pulling me in tight against him.  I whimpered against his
mouth and then gasped as I felt his hot tongue...the same
one that had just been on my cock...press between my lips
and invade my mouth.  I immediately opened to him
completely, losing all of my will, moaning as the kiss
deepened and he coaxed my tongue into his mouth with his
own.  It as all the encouragement I needed, and my hands
came up, gripping him tightly, pulling his hips in hard against
me, our hardened cocks mashed together between us again.

The sound of our groans filled my ears and it felt like his
hands were everywhere, on my back, on my ass, in my hair,
and our groins were sliding against one another, hips
thrusting, taking me closer to the orgasm I hadn't let myself
have earlier.  Suddenly I pulled my mouth from his and
pushed away from him again.

"Not here...not now...in front of him..." I said breathlessly,
licking the taste of Mulder from my lips.  He stared, dazed for
a moment, looking more beautiful than a man has a right to,
then nodded, his eyes closing briefly.  I watched them open
slowly, and stare deeply into mine for endless moments.

"I heard you."

At first I didn't know what he was talking about, and my brow
furrowed in confusion.

"That's what woke me."

Oh.  My confession.  I felt sick.  That's what had awakened
him to the horror I'd been forced to visit on him.  I closed my
eyes against the pain.

"No, Alex..." he said, stepping in toward me.  He sighed.  I
opened my eyes and looked at him from beneath lowered
lashes.  "I...I woke up because I wanted to hear it.  I've
wanted to hear it for so long."

"I've wanted to say it for so long."

His lips curved into the slightest grin then, and he nodded.  I
couldn't help but smile back.  Then he shifted his eyes to a
spot on the floor behind me and the smile faded.  I quickly
turned, afraid that Cardinale was coming to, but he was still
slumped in a growing pool of blood.

"We have to do something with him," Mulder said, all
seriousness now.

"I know what I want to do with him," I replied darkly.

"I can't let you do that."  His voice was soft, but firm, and I
looked up to see him gazing at me intently.  "We have to call
the police."

I stared into his eyes, wanting so badly to just go against his
wishes and take my time in working out all my frustration and
anger on Cardinale with knife and gun and fists and wire.  But
I got lost in the dark, deep intensity of those eyes, and found
myself nodding.  The smile returned briefly.  It was reward
enough.

"Now we just need to get dressed before they get here," he
continued, stepping around me to look for his clothes.
Ashamed, I remembered their ruined condition.  He bent and
held them up, his lips pursed as he considered their
usefulness.  He could find none, evidently, because he
dropped them to the floor with a frown.  I quickly bent and
retrieved my own pants and shirt and tossed them to him.  He
caught them with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What about you?"

"I'll wait for you to come back with something for me to
wear," I answered.  He looked at me for a moment, then
nodded slowly and started to step into my jeans.  I got a tiny
bit of pleasure knowing my clothes were going to be against
his flesh, and smiled as he zipped himself into my jeans,
tucking in his half-hard cock.  He looked up with a sheepish
grin, catching me watching, then quickly slid his arms into my
shirt and buttoned a few of the buttons, hastily putting on his
shoes and socks, then straightening up, brushing his hands
through his hair.

"I'll be right back," he said, looking intently into my eyes.

"I know." I answered him.  And I did.  I had to trust him.  He'd
trusted me, and now it was my turn.  I would wait for him.  He
smiled again, then went over to Cardinale's form, reaching
around behind him.  He pulled his gun from Cardinale's
waistband and tucked it into the front of my jeans, then strode
across to the door.  He looked back once, then was out the
door and going down the stairs, quickly by the sound of it.

I sighed and bent to pick up Mulder's jacket, laying forgotten
in the corner.  I slipped my arms into it and inhaled deeply,
drowning in his scent and feeling like a freshman girl in her
boyfriend's letterman's jacket.  I slipped on my underwear
and socks, feeling foolish and stupid, the doubts starting to
creep into my paranoid brain.  He could just call the cops and
send them after both of us.  He *should* do that, as a matter
of fact.  I'm a wanted criminal, after all, and he's an officer of
the law.  My thoughts were compounding, making me
increasingly nervous and antsy, as I paced and debated on
whether to take Cardinale's blood-soaked clothes and try to
make a run for it.  I heard Mulder's words in my head again.
"I'll be right back."  He'd told me he'd be back.  And I knew
Mulder's word was good.  As good as mine wasn't.  And after
all I'd put him through, I certainly owed him the benefit of the
doubt.  If he wanted to sell me down the river, I decided right
then and there that I'd go.  I knew it meant my death, but if
Mulder wanted to do that to me, I owed it to him to let him
have that satisfaction.  Resigned, I pulled up Cardinale's
chair, nudging his unconscious form with my foot, pushing
him further away from me, and sat down to wait.

I heard the sound of someone coming up the stairs and my
heart thudded in my throat.  This could be it.  It could be the
police, about to find me naked and waiting, easy pickings
even though Mulder had left me Cardinale's gun and the
knife.  I knew I wouldn't use them.  Mulder wouldn't want me
to.  I raised my head as the door opened.

Mulder stepped through it, carrying a pile of clothing against
his chest.  "You're still here," he said, sounding surprised
and relieved.

"And you're back," I said, letting him know that I'd had the
same doubts about him.  He smiled ruefully and nodded, and
I stood up from the chair.

"Nice jacket," he said, taking me in from head to toe, his
smile growing wider.

"Uh yeah..." I said, feeling myself blush for the first time in
about a decade and a half.  "I got cold..."

He laughed.  "Well, I don't know if these will clash, but I think
you should probably get some pants on, all the same."  He
stepped forward and held the clothes out, smiling.  I took
them, my hands trembling slightly, the adrenaline rush I'd
been experiencing leaving me weak and shaky.  "I had to get
them at this weird cigar shop down the block," he explained,
as I shook out the bright orange nylon pants and tight silver
lame shirt.  I looked at him skeptically.  "I swear!" he said,
grinning. "That's all they had!"

"Uh huh."  I had my doubts about this, but slid out of his
jacket and put on the top, feeling it cling to every inch of my
skin.  I stepped into the pants, which were as loose as the
shirt was tight.  I felt like a total dork.  I looked up and saw
Mulder's face beaming in the biggest smile I'd ever seen,
teeth and all.  I couldn't help but grin back, delighted at
making him so happy, even at the expense of my meager
dignity.

"I'm not crazy about the pants, but you look pretty damn
good in that shirt," he said, tilting his head in appraisal.

"Shut up," I answered, smiling at the way his eyes swept
over me.  We looked at each other a few more minutes, then
we both took a breath at the same time.

"I don't think he's going to make it," I said apologetically.  I
knew Mulder didn't want me to kill Cardinale, and from the
way he was bleeding all over the floor and not moving, I
wasn't sure I hadn't already done so.

"I know," Mulder replied calmly.  "But we have to call the
cops anyway."  I said nothing, willing to do whatever he
wanted me to.  He frowned.  "I had my cell phone.  Have you
seen it anywhere?"

We looked for it together, and it's stupid, but it felt so good to
be working together, even toward a goal as small as finding
Mulder's phone.  It felt even better when I found it for him in
one of the other small rooms of the apartment.  I came back
and handed it to him proudly.  He smiled and took it,
immediately punching in 911.  He told them he'd been
attacked, and the assailant was unconscious, possibly
deceased, thanks to the actions of another person who'd
shown up and saved his life.  I listened, breathless, as he
gave them the address then hit 'End' and tucked the phone
into the front pocket of my jeans.

"You told them I saved you," I said, stunned.

"You did," he answered.  I just stared at him, speechless.
"Look, Alex," I couldn't help the tiny feeling of warmth it gave
me each time he said my first name.  "You're wanted for
questioning in several crimes, but there are no charges
against you as of yet."  I frowned, not seeing where he was
going with this.  He continued.  "Two of the allegations are
mine, and one is Scully's.  I'm going to drop mine, and I'm
pretty sure that I can get Scully to drop hers, but you have to
promise me something."

I swallowed hard.  Mulder was offering me my freedom.  But
in exchange for what?  I was so scared that I wouldn't be able
to give it to him.  "What do you want?" I asked, ready to do
anything in my power to make him happy.

"Get out."

I frowned, unsure.  "You want me to leave?  Run?"

He shook his head.  "No, Alex.  I want you to get out of the
game.  Stop working for *him.*  And help us take him down."

Oh.  I see.  Go against the most powerful men in the world
and give up my safety and protection in exchange for his
limited protection and approval.  I looked at him, wanting so
badly to tell him yes, but knowing that I had to tell him no.

"Mulder, I can't do that," I said quietly, dropping my gaze to
the floor, the pain of disappointing him worse than any I'd felt
in my life.  So close.

"Would it change anything if I told you I loved you, too?" he
asked quietly.

I couldn't breathe.  Couldn't think.  Certainly couldn't speak to
give him my answer.  Because the truth was...that it did, in
fact, change everything.

Mulder loved me.  He knew I loved him, and he loved me
back.  After everything I'd just done to him, and everything
that went on before, he was still willing to love me and give
me the chance to leave my old life behind and start a new
one with him.  Christ.  It was more than even I could say no
to.

One word.  One word that would probably mean my death.  A
word that changed everything in a breath.  In a heartbeat.

I nodded.  "Yes."  As Mulder crossed the space between us
and took me in his arms again, I realized I really didn't care if
I'd just sealed my fate.  If I died a horrible death tomorrow at
the hands of the Smoker and his cronies, I'd still be one up
on the rest of the world because Mulder loved me.  He loved
me.  *Me.*  As he wrapped his arms tightly around me and
held me, I let that reality soak in.  I was still pressed tightly to
him when we heard the cop cars and ambulance pull up
outside the windows, and we separated slowly, brushing our
lips together for one soft kiss.

"I'll help you," he said.

"I know," I answered, no longer worried.  Whatever the
future had in store, the cost was definitely worth the prize,
and I was willing to pay it...any of it, and all of it, to have him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jesus.  Sometimes I just do NOT know where this stuff
comes from.  Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy
Kwaanza, and Merry Solstice, people.

bizzzichick@yahoo.com