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Alex Krycek's head hurt. After being cold-cocked, he awoke to find himself being dragged through a dank and musty smelling space. When he struggled to put his feet on the ground, he was shoved face-first to the cold damp cement.

He shoved his hands under him, determined to knock his captor flat on his ass until a cold gun barrel at the base of his skull changed his mind.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"Cooperation. Get up." The voice was as cold as the gun barrel. Out of the corner of his eye he could see only a figure that was all shoulders and easily five inches taller. The muzzle of the gun didn't encourage a closer look. He went obediently, into a smaller room.

It might have been an office once. Now track lighting cast harsh illumination on the walls.

"Shit." He whispered.

Mulder and Scully were bound naked to the wall in four point restraints.

He backed up, certain he was next to go up. A hand between his shoulder blades sprawled him at Mulder's feet.

"Krycek," he snarled, "I should have known." His eyes here steel gray with hate. "Let us loose, you rat bastard."

A rattle of laughter came from the doorway. "You overestimate Alex's importance here, Agent Mulder. He's a participant in this little drama, just like you and the lovely Agent Scully. I'm the director."

"Why?" Alex asked.

"A favor for a friend."

Alex turned on his knees, crouched and coiled.

"What do you want?"

"For you to make a choice: Fox or Dana for an interlude of pleasure."

"Go to hell," he said.

"Wrong answer, Alex."

He heard Scully gasp.

"No-" Mulder groaned.

Alex cursed himself. He had been so distracted by Scully and Mulder that he hadn't even seen the second man who was now holding a knife at her ribs. He knew all it would take was one swift strike-

"All right! Don't hurt her."

He stood and turned to Mulder, whose eyes widened as he moved in close.

A few years ago he would have gotten a nasty satisfaction from the flinch as he leaned in close to Mulder's ear.

"Are you willing to do this to save her from me?"

God, he was beautiful. He barely had been able to resist kissing those lips that night in Mulder's apartment. Even that brief caress had fueled his fevered dreams for months. What would a total possession feel like?

Mulder swallowed hard. Hazel eyes met green.

"Yes," he whispered.

He let his fingertips map the texture of the full lower lip. Mulder closed his eyes at the touch.

"I'll be gentle with you." With trembling fingers, he started to unbuckle the restraint on Mulder's wrist.

"Krycek, wait." He hesitated at the sound of Scully's voice. There was nothing cool or detached about it. It was full of desperation. He heard the leather creak as she leaned against the restraints. Mulder's eyes went over his shoulder and he shook his head once in vehement denial at what he saw in hers.

"Alex, please, don't do this to him."

It was her tone as much as the use of his first name that turned him around. Even naked, she was unashamed as his eyes took her in. He had heard all the rumors when he had worked at the Bureau. In her sensible suits and detached demeanor he had no reason to doubt how she got the nickname "The Ice Queen".

There was every reason to doubt them now.

The blue eyes that were normally serene shone as bright as gas flames.

"Don't do this. That's not who he is. You know what this will do to him. And despite everything, I don't think you want to destroy him this way."

Damn it, she was right. That didn't mean he was going to let her or Mulder off easy. With his best feline stride, he approached her. Her eyes widened. He wished he had eyes in the back of his head to see Mulder's expression. A little smile curled his lips at the thought.

"What do you suggest, Scully?" He leaned close and breathed into her ear. "Do you think he'd like it any better if I bury myself inside of you?" He leaned back and waited for her cold facade to go up at the insult, but it didn't. This Scully was a stranger.

"He'll get over it. Let me go, Alex."

He tried one last time. "Maybe I'll tell them I want both of you," she didn't even flinch. "At the same time."

Her eyes dilated but didn't waver. So he kissed her, locking his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck. He devoured her, hoping if he were brutal enough, she would relent.

She didn't. She pressed against him as much as her restraints would allow, tipped her head back into his palm and arched her spine. The hand that had been at her hip slipped to the small of her back. Only Mulder's presence in the room kept him from leaning his full weight against her.

He drew back. She was flushed, her lips full, her hair in disarray.

"You win, Dana." He unbuckled her restraints.

She ignored the two dark figures and went to Mulder. Kissed his forehead, stroked his cheeks, murmured reassurances.

Mulder's eyes came up dark and full of pain.

"Don't hurt her," he whispered.

No words would reassure him, so he kissed him, as gentle as his kiss with Scully had been brutal. Then he turned and swept Scully up into his arms and followed his captor out the door and down another hallway.

"Put me down, Krycek!" Suddenly her eyes went wide. "Your arm."

She cringed as the door to their prison was shut and locked. It only distracted her for a moment. She was pulling off his glove, peering at his hand, testing his reflexes.


He pulled off the other glove, shrugged out of his jacket and rolled back his T-shirt sleeve.

"They finally decided I would be useful with two arms."

"But the rejection---"

"Is a lot less when it's your own tissue." He laughed at the shock on her face. "They only cloned the arm
Scully, not all of me."

"That's not possible."

"Sure it is. You know it's possible to use stem cells to grow body parts. It's highly experimental in the public sector, but the Consortium is always five steps ahead of everyone else in research." He slid the t-shirt over his head. "Now let me show you how it works." Reaching for his belt, he kicked his shoes off at the same time.

The number of scars on his torso amazed her. Not only bullet and knife wounds, but as he pulled down his jeans and briefs, a tattoo, high on his hip. A rat's face, peering from a shadow of black ink, sinister green eyes glinting.

The green matched Krycek's eyes exactly.

A smile curled the corner of his mouth.

"Mulder is so fond of calling me a rat bastard. The artist was inspired after spending several hours looking deep into my eyes." Scully's gaze had not strayed below eye level since she had seen the tattoo, despite the fact that he was full frontal.

"I'm sure she was."

"Actually, it was a man. He reminded me of Mulder. Same changeable eyes. What color are his eyes when he comes, Scully?" In one unguarded second he read the truth in her eyes. She didn't know. "Jesus, Scully," he laughed, "what the hell are you waiting for?"

"Mulder and I don't have that type of relationship."

"Of course you don't. Mulder has you so damn high on a pedestal and you're so afraid to lose control. Guess what?" he whispered, stalking closer. "You are going to. For me."

"Go to hell, Krycek."

He backed her against the bed. She lost her balance and sat down hard. He stared down at her.

"I thought we had an understanding, Scully. I leave Mulder untarnished and you submit. Unless you've changed your mind?"

She slid her hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him in the last few inches.

He let her control the kiss, not touching her. God, how he wanted to. He would never tell her that she was his first lover since his new arm.

He had busted his ass in therapy for this occasion. Little did he know that it would be for Dana Scully, Ice Queen of the FBI. The naked, tiny woman before him, hair molten copper and eyes as wide and blue as the sky had been to him when he finally escaped that silo, bore little resemblance to Fox Mulder's saving grace.
Ripped to shreds with jealousy when Krycek had been assigned as Mulder's partner, she had never actually looked at Krycek. Pretty boys had never attracted her and his fawning tag-along personality had annoyed her.

It was only later before he and Mulder had made that ill-fated trip to Tuguska that she had really seen him. A little battered, eyes shadowed, hair brutally short. Only then did she realize how far off her first judgment had been.

Now he was surprising her again. Lips soft and pliant, he let her take the lead, fashion the kiss into what she wanted. Despite the battered appearance of his clothes, he smelled freshly showered, his own natural musk headier than any cologne, his hair silken despite its shortness.

She pulled back suddenly, catching him off guard. His jade eyes flew open looking as stunned as she felt by the kiss.

She scuttled to the middle of the bed and tried for a nonchalant tone.

"Let's get this over with. Mulder doesn't need to be tortured any longer than necessary."

He laughed. "It doesn't make any difference how long we're in here. Mulder will torture himself regardless. You're his patron saint, Dana."

"Scully," she warned.

He continued without pause. "That I should touch you, pleasure you, it's sacrilegious to him. But he won't touch you himself."

"Pleasure? What makes you think I'm going to feel anything but revulsion? My sister's blood is on your hands, so is Mulder's father's."

"Don't believe everything that comes out of Mulder's mouth. As much as he rants about the truth, he doesn't have a clue sometimes. And as far as my lovemaking talents are concerned," he said, crawling up her body until his lips were inches away. "I've been a lover a lot longer than I've been a killer. I've seduced women colder than you, women who had ice for bones. But you, Dana are like an ice cube not long in the freezer. One touch of a warm hand," she gasped as he ran the backs of his fingers over her wiry curls, "and the frozen shell melts."

He raised his hand to his nose and inhaled. "God, you smell good. I can't wait to taste you."


A smile curled his lips. "No?"

"You want me, fine, but no extras."

He sat back on his haunches. "That's the way you want it?"

She nodded.

"Fine." He pulled her flat on her back and lifted her knees over his shoulders. She froze for a moment, knowing this position would put him deep inside her.

He had his mouth on her before she realized his true intent. When she tried to pull away he merely pushed her legs higher.

"Krycek, stop."

"No." Eyes locked on hers, he took a long moist lick and her body quivered.

"Let me up."

He sighed, resting his chin atop her curls.

"You begged me to chose you over Mulder. Sold your soul the devil." A little wry smile. "Now it's time to pay. Leave Mulder outside. Maybe some other night I'll be interested in a threesome, but not now. While you're at it, leave Scully and her control out there too. I know there's a woman under all that ice, Dana."
When she tilted her chin higher, he whispered softly, "There's always Mulder."

"Damn you. What do you want from me?"

"Despite what you may think, I don't enjoy raping women. I do love to make them come." He opened her with his thumbs. "Over and over," he whispered. "And this," another long slow lick, "is the best way to do it. Just let go, Dana."

Her eyes slid closed as his mouth began to work in earnest.

Her mind knew that she should be cold to his mouth, but it was easier to ignore a brand seared against her skin than it was to ignore the heat of his fingers and mouth and what they were doing to her. Like a moth, seeking the heat of the fire, she let him pull her in too close and she went up in the flames of his passion.

Back arched like a bow, body sheened with sweat, his name torn from her lips, he had never seen anything more beautiful. How many men had seen her like this, untethered by control and undone by passion. Even if it was the darkest, most dangerous type of lust.

His eyes were calm when she finally had the strength to open hers. Head resting on his hand, face so open, he looked too innocent to know how to shatter her control, much less be capable of murder and betrayal.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" His voice was low and dark. She started at the touch of his fingers against her arm.

"There's no need for flattery, Krycek." She was desperate for some shred of protection from the whirl of emotions, even as his fingertips skimmed over her shoulder and across her clavicle, relighting the fire.

"It's been so long, hasn't it, Dana, since someone has pleasured you well?"

She didn't speak.

Fingers caressed her breast, teased her nipples. "I'm not done, not yet."

She didn't protest; he was determined to possess her. All she had to do was hold on to her soul.

He levered himself over her body and took her mouth. Hungry but restrained. She could taste herself.

"See how delicious you are?" he whispered against her ear. "Dana-" she heard him swallow hard, "please, I need you to touch me. Oh, god, baby, pretend that you want me, just for now."

Unable to deny the want in his voice, she stroked her hands over his broad shoulders.

He was trembling.

Her fingertips trailed down his sides, over his ribcage. His head arched away from her shoulder and his eyes open, wide and unseeing.


She continued her journey, watching his face. Up over his hips to the base of his spine, then drawing the long straight line of his back to his shoulders and down to his nipples.

A shudder racked him as she stroked them into tight points then laved them with the same long slow licks he had used.

She slid herself lower; kissing her way down his torso. With a small surge of satisfaction, she realized he was mindless now, out of control.

"Dana, yes. Dana, please-"

He lapsed into Russian, crooning.

How long had it been since someone had begged for her touch and responded so fervently? She lingered, enjoying the contrast of the smooth skin of his stomach and the dark crisp hair that arrowed down to his hardness.

He stopped breathing when she licked the head, then flicked her tongue all around the ridge.

And then he pulled away, scooped her up and put her head back on the pillows.

"I let you do that and Mulder will never get you back. And," he said, scattering kisses over her breast, "your mouth on my cock is not something I need to get addicted to."

"I told you I didn't need your flattery."

He shrugged. "Logical observation. You seem to excel at everything you do, Dana. But here," he said sinking into her without warning, "is where I want to be, want to come."

She didn't know whether to scream in pain or pleasure.

"Alex, wait-"

"Don't worry, baby, I'm not going anywhere yet. Relax."

How could she? His fingers slid between her nipples and clit, smearing her juices over the former, then licking it way, even as his other hand toyed with her hair, caressed her face.

"Jesus, you're so tight." He rocked his hips and purred. "I don't even need to fuck you. I think feeling you clench around me would be enough to make me come."

She thought she had prepared herself for this. Prepared herself for his mind, which was sharper than any knife he could have carried. The lies which rolled so easily from a mouth, a face that belonged to an angel, not a mortal whose battered and tarnished morals had kept him alive when some would have knelt for the axe before submitting to the horrors this man had seen and done.

No, it was his body that unraveled her. Not even seven years of Mulder's double-edged comments, touches and sunflower eating episodes had ever made her feel the raw, dark hunger this green-eyed fallen angel invoked from her.

He didn't want to move, to start the inevitable climb. To keep himself here, buried inside her was almost enough.


Reaching down, he swept her legs up over his shoulders and sank even deeper into her.

This should hurt. She kept expecting pain. The only other time she had tried it, she felt like she was being torn in two. This, this was almost unbearably intimate. Tangled and meshed by their own bodies, his fingers in her hair, her nails in his shoulders, his cock hot and heavy in her belly. Now he was rocking against her and oh god, it felt even better. Stole her breath.

At first she thought he was murmuring in Russian again, but somehow her brain made sense of the syllables.
"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful-"

A chant that she let herself get caught up in, rock to.

He only broke it once to settle her higher on his shoulders. The next stroke ground over her g-spot and tore a cry from her.

Again and again. She felt the arousal smoldering in her, from the flush on her cheeks to the soles of her feet.

Then he stopped.

A wordless cry of protest broke from her.

He unhooked her legs from his shoulders.

"Around my waist," he whispered, inches from her mouth. As soon as she obeyed, he started the rhythm again.

"Alex, harder." She was beyond the point of caring what he thought of her, how he would use this against her, what Mulder would say if he knew.

But he ignored her, keeping her on the edge. Just a little more.

He pulled out.

"Get up on hour hands and knees." That dark whisper again.

She should have told him to go to hell, but her body responded, assumed the position of its own accord.

He pushed back in, leaned over and kissed the nape of her neck.

Then he gave her exactly what she wanted. Hands on her hips, he pumped into her.

"This," he growled, "is this what you want?"

When she didn't answer, he tweaked her nipple savagely.

"Yes! Alex, don't stop." She was so close. When she tried to flick her clit, he pulled her hand away, clenched his fingers in her hair and turned her ear to his mouth.

"I'm not ready for you to come yet. Not like this."

She clamped her teeth down on a scream of frustration as he pulled out again, and then moaned as he trailed warm kisses up her spine. Her arms shook as he tilted her chin up and whispered, "Say you want me." There was no blood in her brain left to nourish its higher functions. There was only the need to come. Logic and common sense meant nothing, dark and cold compared to the heat in his eyes.

"I want you."

He kissed her, dragging her into his arms, into his lap, steadying her hips and sliding back inside. She clenched his solid biceps with a gasp.

"Yes," he hissed, "hold on, Dana." His arm slid around her waist, holding her motionless as he stroked into her.

His thumb circled her clit slowly, holding her on the edge. She tightened around him and he groaned, lush lashes sinking to half-mast.

"Now, Dana, come for me." With a tweak of his thumb, her body seized, she couldn't even scream.

"Oh god, Dana." His whisper was awed as she arched in his arms.

Just when she thought here was no more pleasure to be had, his thumb flicked over her clit again and sent her soaring.

He let himself come.

She dragged her eyes open to watch and was enthralled.

His eyes were almost closed, a shimmer of emerald under the darkness of his lashes. Her hands slid around his hips, thumbs pressed into their curve, fingers splayed across his ass. With a squeeze of her fingers and a jerk of her hips, she buried him deeper inside of her.

He gasped for air with a sob, shook and clung to her as if she was the only thing holding him to earth.

The shudders faded and he sank against the headboard, tucking her head against his shoulder, but made no move to pull out. He seemed content to press kisses against her temple and whisper in Russian.

Then she felt the wet heat of his tears on her cheek. Startled, she tried to pull back, he only held her tighter.

"No," he whispered, "not yet. Dana, please." She relaxed against his broad chest. "I'm so sorry little one, I know you don't understand. No explanation will change how you feel about me, but I can't help how I feel about you-and Mulder."


"Scully!" Mulder's yell shook her. Her partner was in danger and she was enclosed in the arms of their worst enemy, his body still a part of hers.

Krycek grumbled what sounded suspiciously like a Russian curse. His arms tightened around her, then slid to her hips to lift her away. She trembled at the loss.

Then she saw his eyes. A little boy deprived of a favorite treat, but too stubborn to show his hurt.

"Go take care of Mulder. I'll try and find your clothes."

"You're forgetting one thing, we're locked in."

He strode to the door and turned the knob, it opened easily.


He handed her his t-shirt and she put it on, breathing in his scent as she pulled it over her head.


He was already sliding into his jeans. She got one last look at his tattoo before the jeans slipped over his hips.

"Go, Scully," he urged, not even meeting her eyes.

She found Mulder ravaging his wrists and ankles on the restraints.

"Scully," he breathed as she unbuckled his cuffs.

"I'm fine, Mulder, he didn't hurt me. Come on, we need to find our clothes."

Alex had left them on the bed, but he was gone.

"I'm going to kill that bastard," Mulder growled, surveying the rumpled bed.

She closed her eyes, afraid of what he might see.

In her bathroom later, she realized Mulder had no need to look into her eyes, her body told the story of their mating just as effectively.

Her normally precise tresses were curled from his fingers, lips reddened from his kisses, eyes dark and sated. Not even pulling her 'ice queen' persona around her cooled them.

She sighed, pushing off her shoes and sliding out of her jacket. She still wore Alex's shirt, hers wasn't among the pile of clothes he had found.

Slipping off her pants, she went through her pockets automatically.

The piece of paper puzzled her. She unfolded it, eyes flying over the note.

I'll be back for my shirt --- A.