X-Files Fan Fiction ❯ KRYCEK'S CHRISTMAS GIFT ❯ KRYCEK'S CHRISTMAS GIFT ( Chapter 1 )

Title: KRYCEK'S CHRISTMAS GIFT

Author: Donna McIntosh

E-mail: dmcintoshtx@yahoo.com

Fandom: X-Files

Pairing: Krycek/Skinner

Rating: NC-17 FRAO

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter, not to me. I just let them have a lot more fun.

Summary: Krycek receives an unusual Christmas gift and takes it straight to Skinner.

 

KRYCEK'S CHRISTMAS GIFT

 

Krycek stood looking out the window, one finger holding back the aged drapes. The street below was a blur of activity; decorations hung from every possible point; storefronts were all decorated; people wandered back and forth on the sidewalks carrying armfuls of gaily wrapped packages. He hated Christmas; hated it with a passion. Christmas held only one memory for him and that was losing both his parents on Christmas Eve when he was just a boy of 8. The chill from the window told him it would snow for sure tonight as he watched a young family working to tie a Christmas tree to the roof of their car. The children danced around eagerly trying to help while their parents wound the twine round and round. Soon enough they were off to enjoy their purchase.

 

He remembered his parents as they decorated their last tree. It was a tiny thing; just big enough to sit on their side table in the living room of their old duplex. He was startled by a sound outside his room. He drew his gun and stepped back into the shadows. A red envelope was slid under his door and he listened as foot steps walked on down the hall. He went to the envelope and picked it up. There was no name on it, just his room number. He held it up to his nose and sniffed it; no scent of anything explosive. He tore the end off and pulled the contents out carefully. It was a Christmas card from the management wishing him happy holidays.

 

“Jesus! Can't everybody just let me the hell alone?” He hurled the card into the trash.

 

The phone rang and he checked the caller ID. Nothing he recognized. He lifted the receiver and said “What?” A telemarketer began his spiel and Krycek slammed down the phone. With a deep sigh, he grabbed his jacket and headed out for the nearest bar.

 

He took a table in the back; away from most of the crowd and ordered a beer. He didn't like to drink very much. It dulled his senses and he had to stay alert to stay alive. He nursed the beer for nearly an hour and was about to finish it and go back to his apartment when an old man dressed in a Santa suit sat down opposite him.

 

“Mind if I sit for a minute?” he asked settling his considerable weight in the creaking wooden chair.

 

“As a matter of fact I do.” Krycek glared at him.

 

“OK. I'll leave in just a minute; soon as I catch my breath. Would that be OK?” The old man answered with a wheeze. “I'm exhausted. I've been at the mall all day; handing out candy and little presents to children; he heaved a tired sigh.

 

“And I thought my job sucked!” Krycek couldn't help but grin at the old man.

 

“I just got one present left.” Santa reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red ball. “I can't figure out who I'm supposed to give it to. I think it belongs to you.”

 

“Looks like a ball to play jacks with.” Krycek said.

 

“Oh, it's not a jack ball. No siree. It's magic!” The old mans eyes twinkled under his thick white eyebrows.

 

“Magic?” Krycek scoffed with a chuckle.

 

“Yes, indeed it is. It's a time machine.” The old man held the ball in one hand and stroked his snow-white beard in the other.

 

“A time machine? Who are you; H.G. Wells?”

 

“I thought you knew; I'm Santa Clause.”

 

Krycek laughed out loud. Whoever this guy was, he was certainly amusing.

 

“You don't believe in me?” He asked, all blue-eyed and innocent.

 

“Look, buddy. You're funny as hell but I'm really not into this Christmas shit. So why don't you just move on to another table?”

 

“First I have to show you how this works. Magic is a delicate thing and can be dangerous if not handled carefully.”

 

Krycek sat and stared at the old man. Not knowing whether he was just some harmless old coot or someone that need careful watching.

 

“Let me show you how it works then I'll be gone.” He held the ball in his hand and squeezed it. When he opened his hand again, the ball gave off a bright red glow.

 

“Hey, that's cool. How'd you do that?” Krycek asked, his interest peaked.

 

The old man placed the ball on the table and it returned to its original coloring. “Now you do it. If you're the one who's supposed to get this gift of magic, the ball will glow even brighter than that. If you're not, it won't glow at all.”

 

Krycek decided to go along with the old man; he seemed harmless enough. He picked up the ball and squeezed it then opened his hand. The ball threw off a brilliant red light; giving the entire room a red glow. He sat the ball back down quickly and stared at it.

 

“I knew you were the one the minute I saw you. This gift is yours.”

 

“Now wait a minute here. Whatever this thing is, it's not magic and I don't want it. Go give it to someone else.” Krycek said and shoved the ball towards the old man.

 

“That's because you think it's all just a game; a scam of some sort. It's not, you know. It's for real. With this little ball you can travel back in time to any year you want. Or maybe you'd rather go into the future? It can be done. Isn't there some thing back in the past you'd like to see? Maybe the building of the pyramids; or the fall of the Roman Empire? Or maybe something with a little more action; like maybe witnessing the gunfight at the OK corral? Or watching Hitler in his final hour in his bunker? It's all here; all you have to do is think of a time and you'll be there. You can experience it all; watch it as it actually happened, be a part of it if you want.”

 

Krycek drained his bottle and chuckled at the old man. “I'm outta here.” He said and started to stand up but the old man stopped him with a hand on his arm.

 

“Please; just one more moment.”

 

Krycek sat back down. “Look old man, whatever you're selling; I'm not buying.”

 

“No, no, no. I'm not selling this; it's yours! It's your Christmas gift. I must give you one warning though. If you go into another time, you must come back before the hour is up or you will be stuck in that time with no way to return.”

 

Krycek gave the old man a look that would whither most men; it had no affect. The man was smiling a gentle affectionate smile at him. “Go on. Take it. It's yours.”

 

Krycek picked the ball up and squeezed it. The entire room took on a red glow. He glanced around at the others in the bar but no one seemed to notice the red. He put the ball back down and the red glare was gone; and so was the old man.

 

“So, you want another beer?” The waitress was standing at the table asking him.

 

“What? No; no thanks.” He stood up, pulled a few bucks out of his wallet and handed them to her. “Say, did you by any chance see where that old man I was sitting with went?”

 

“What old man? You been sitting here alone for over an hour now.”

 

“Yeah, OK, thanks.” Krycek picked the ball up and stuffed it into his pocket and headed on home his usual way; out the back entrance to stand in the alley for several minutes, then slipping down to the end of the alley, across the street into another alley. Up a fire escape to the roof where he spent several more minutes watching to see if anyone was following; then down the fire escape to his car parked two blocks over.

 

Inside his apartment, he checked all his little traps to see if anyone had been there while he was gone. The hair he'd left on the window sill was still there, the tiny piece of paper was still in the crack of his front door. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned the lights on. He dropped his keys on his dresser, removed his leather jacket and tossed it on the bed. He turned the shower on to warm up and stripped off his clothes. A long hot shower later and he felt like a new man. He pulled on an old worn sweat suit, some socks; dumped his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and hung up his jacket. As he was leaving the bedroom, something caught his eye. The small round ball was lying in the middle of his bed.

 

He picked it up with a grin as he remembered the old man from the bar, playing Santa Clause. He walked out into his living room and sat down in his recliner; turning the little ball over and over. He wondered how it worked and gave it another squeeze. His entire room lit up with a red glow. Amazing! He thought and turned the ball round and round looking for some sort of opening where a battery might be inserted. He found none.

 

He went to his desk drawer and got out his magnifying glass. He sat at his desk, turned the desk lamp on and studied the ball carefully. He could find nothing. He squeezed it again and watched as it turned a brilliant red that lit up the room. Then he placed it back down on the middle of his desk. It returned to its natural color. He got up, pocketed the ball and paced the room a bit, wondering. Where would such a thing as this come from and why did that old man give it to him? A time machine! He chuckled out loud and went back to his recliner, levering the footrest up into place.

 

“All I have to do is think of a time and I can go there!” He laughed out loud. That old Santa was good; he'd have to give him that. He played his role well and Krycek wondered again how he had managed to disappear so fast. The bar was crowded though so he had probably just slipped off into the back or maybe the restroom. It was funny though that the waitress hadn't seen him. She was probably just busy.

 

“Where would I like to go? What would I like to see? Hmmmm; let me think.” He drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Santa suggested the pyramids. That might be interesting. He squeezed the ball tightly in his hand and opened it. The room glowed red and all of the sudden he was standing in the sand, heat from the sun was beating down on him; there was a trail of workers moving gigantic blocks of stone up a ramp. Someone was cracking a whip over their heads.

 

He jumped in his chair nearly tipping it over. “Holy fucking shit!” He dropped the ball and it rolled across the floor. He jumped up, levering the footrest down, and got down on his hands and knees to retrieve it from underneath the table. “Did this thing really work? Or did I just doze off and have a little dream?”

 

“No way! This is nothing but a red rubber ball. It's fixed up some way to give off that red glow but that's all it does.” He paced the floor a few minutes then sat back down.

 

“It would be nice though if it really did work.” He held the ball up and eyed it closely. “Just think, if you could really go back …”

 

“If I could go back; maybe I could keep my folks from being killed. I would not make the mistake of getting mixed up with Spender.” He leaned back and wished, “If only it were possible. I could change my life. Everything would be different.”

 

He squeezed the ball tightly and then he was standing there watching his parents; his mother just weeks away from delivering a baby; his father handsome and strong by her side, a protective arm around her. He stood looking up at them; eight years old, eyes wide with wonder at their little tree. He dashed up the stairs as fast as his little legs would carry him, off to his room to gather the small gifts he had made for his parents at school and had kept hidden in his secret hiding place in his room. He moved the panel in the back of his closet and climbed inside. He heard it then; the noise from downstairs; loud pounding, the door being kicked in, his father shouting, “Get out! Get out of our house!” Then his mother's scream. Little Alex stood frozen in the closet doorway. There was laughing then and strange male voices and noises of them rummaging through the house. He crawled back into his hiding place, replacing the panel. One of the men entered the room and turned everything upside down, searching for hidden valuables.

 

Krycek awoke with a start; tears streaming down his face. He jumped up and hurled the ball across the room. “What the fuck good is it going back if I can't change anything!”

He went over to the cabinet and took down a bottle of Vodka. He took a long drink straight from the bottle and wiped his mouth on his arm. He paced the floor and drank until he settled back down.

 

His mind raced in circles trying to figure out what was going on. How could this have happened? How could that stupid ball possibly work? And if it did work; how could he use it so he could change things? Was that even possible? Maybe going back to his childhood was too unrealistic. He didn't want to relive the past; he wanted to change it; but how? When he was back as a child, he had no memory of his future. He was just a scared little boy again listening as intruders killed his parents and ransacked his home. He shuddered at the memory and took another long drink.

 

Somehow he had to figure out a way to make this work. A message. Maybe he could take a message into the past with him, reminding himself why he was there and what was going to happen. No. That would never work for an eight year old boy. He wouldn't understand it or believe it if he found a message signed by some Alex Krycek from the future. There was no way he could stop what happened to his parents. He would have to try for some event after he was full grown; after he had been exposed to the extreme possibilities that he was now aware of. Only then would he believe.

 

He'd have to try something simple first to see if it would work. He took out a piece of paper and wrote on it, “Ask Santa if it's possible to change the past”. He held it in his prosthetic hand and squeezed the ball with his right hand. He closed his eyes and thought about earlier that evening in the bar sitting across from Santa.

 

He opened his eyes when he heard the music and sound of the other bar patrons around him.

 

“I see you're back?” Santa smiled.

 

“Huh?” There was a moments confusion before he glanced down and read the note he held in his hand. It all came back to him then. He looked up to see Santa smiling affectionately at him.

 

“You see, it really does work.”

 

“How? How can it possibly work?” he asked then noticing the note again he asked, “Is it possible to change the past? Stop someone from being killed?”

 

“I don't know. I have never used it myself. I suppose that's a possibility but changing the past can be a very difficult and dangerous thing. Are you sure you want to try something like that?”

 

“Yes! My parents were murdered. Can that be undone?” Krycek asked anxiously.

 

“How long ago?”

 

“Thirty years ago.”

 

“That's a long time back. You were just a child then.”

 

“Yes, I know. Can it be done?”

 

“I doubt it. You could take a message back but what would such a message mean to a child?”

 

Krycek heaved a disgusted sigh. “What good is going back to the past if you can't change anything?”

 

“Perhaps it all depends on what you are trying to change. If it is something minor, that will not change any important events, it would probably be possible. I doubt you could stop Hitler from his insanity and all his carnage; or prevent any major disaster. I would think that something minor could be changed. You came back here; didn't you?” Santa smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.

 

“Yeah, I did. Now how do I get back to my own time?”

 

“Just close your eyes and think it and squeeze that magic ball.”

 

“If I have any other questions, can I come back and ask them?” Krycek asked.

 

“Certainly. As long as you have your magic ball. Use it wisely and remember, stay no longer than one hour or you will be stuck there for good.”

 

“OK, yeah, one hour. I'll remember and thanks for this.” He smiled at Santa.

 

“You're most welcome. Be off with you now so I can return to my fireside.” He smiled.

 

Krycek squeezed the ball, closed his eyes and he was once again standing in the middle of his living room.

 

“Man, this is cool shit!” Krycek rolled the ball round and round in the palm of his hand.

 

He sat down at his kitchen table ready to write himself a note. It had worked for his visit to Santa; as soon as he saw it and read it he remembered everything. But where should he go? In an instant it came to him. He wrote, “Don't believe the smoking man; go find Skinner and tell him everything.” He wondered then if that would work. He was quite sure he would be able to remember why he wrote the message once he saw it but again, it might be trying to change too much and if he did change his past, what would become of him? If he was able to avoid getting mixed up with the Consortium, what would that change for him? Would he still be with the Bureau? Would he remember the different pitfalls along the way and be able to avoid them? Or would he step right into them again and again? He had to be careful. He had to plan.

 

His mind was working overtime and his eyes were heavy. He needed sleep and he shouldn't have drunk so much. He decided to sleep on it. His mind would be fresher in the morning. He left the ball sitting on the table and went to bed. He tossed and turned and finally fell asleep just before dawn.

 

xxxxxxxxxx

 

He awoke the next afternoon with one thing on his mind; Walter Skinner. He had dreamed about him again. The dreams were usually the same. He would be in Walter's arms, they would be making love, then somehow Walter would be calling him Mulder and when he realized it was Krycek he was making love to; he would be screaming mad and yelling for him to get out.

 

Krycek refreshed himself in the bathroom with a quick shower and shave. He put some coffee on and stared at the ball. If he could just figure out how to use it right; he might be able to change the way Skinner felt about him; but how? What pivotal moment in time

could accomplish that without changing too much else? At least his mind was clear now and he could reason this out; pick out the perfect moment. He didn't need to change the whole world; just one man's opinion of him. Surely that wouldn't be too much of a change.

 

He spent the rest of the day going over and over different moments from the past trying to pick out the perfect moment. When the decision was finally made, he laughed out loud. Of course! That was it! Perfect! He pulled his black leather jacket on and grabbed the ball up and stuffed it into his pocket and went out the door.

 

He drove straight over to AD Skinner's condo, took the service elevator up to the seventeenth floor and knocked on the door. He knocked a second time before it was finally opened.

 

“Oh shit! Just what I need on Christmas Eve. What the hell do you want, Krycek?” Walter Skinner wasn't exactly overjoyed to see him.

 

“Just some of your time, Skinner. I have something to show you.” Krycek grinned just a little as Skinner stepped aside for him to enter and closed the door after him.

 

“Trust me on this one, Krycek. You have nothing to show me that I haven't already seen and I liked a hell of a lot better.” Skinner hoped his rudeness would make the visit a short one.

 

Krycek took the little ball from his pocket, squeezed it and the room lit up with a brilliant red glow.

 

“What the hell is that?” Skinner asked and walked over to him.

 

“You saw it? Good. I was afraid I was the only one who could see it.” Krycek answered and put the ball back into his pocket.

 

“Are you drunk? Look, I'm busy. Just say what you've come here to say and get out.” Skinner stood with hands on hips, facing Krycek.

 

“Yeah, I can see you're busy.” Krycek said looking over at Skinner's desk and seeing the computer monitor on. “You're as alone on Christmas Eve as I am.”

 

“The difference is that I choose to be alone, Krycek; and no body in their right mind would want to spend it with you.”

 

“I'd like to change that.” Krycek said hopefully.

 

“I'll just bet you would!” Skinner scoffed.

 

“What would you say if I told you I could prove to you that I'm not the monster everyone thinks I am?”

 

“I'd say you'd have to be a pretty damn good liar.”

 

“And if I showed you irrefutable proof?”

 

“I'd say you were a magician or a hypnotist.”

 

Krycek chuckled. “You are so darn sure of yourself; aren't you? But I've got the proof right here in my pocket.” He pulled out the little red ball.

 

“Krycek, I don't know what this is all about or what game you're trying to run on me but I'm not buying into it. What do you want and why are you here?”

 

“OK. Short and sweet and directly to the point; I like that. First of all; I know you're not going to believe this because I didn't either but this little ball is magic.”

 

Skinner threw his head back and laughed. “You've really hit a new all time low, Krycek, even for you. You've got a magic jack ball! I'm sorry but I left my jacks at the office.”

 

Krycek stepped up close to Skinner, squeezed the ball and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were standing in Skinner's office. Skinner's face went white, his jaw dropped. “How'd you do that? This can't be! This is not my office!” He walked over and opened the top desk drawer. There he found the Merkleson file that he'd been working on that morning. He had taken it from the files himself before his secretary had come in. No one knew he had it. He turned back to a smiling Krycek.

 

“What's going on here? I want it all and I want it right now, Krycek.” He demanded.

 

“Let's go back to your condo and I'll tell you everything. You'd better stand close; I'm not sure if this thing will transport both of us if we're far apart. He stepped closer to Skinner, squeezed the ball, closed his eyes and they were back in Skinner's living room.

 

“How did you do that? What has that ball and the red light got to do with anything? Where did you get that and how does it work?” The questions came flying out of Skinner's mouth.

 

“I didn't believe it either when he gave it to me and said it was magic. I had the same reaction you did; I laughed in his face.” Krycek said.

 

“Who gave it to you?”

 

Krycek stared at him for a minute, prepared to be laughed at again and said it, “Santa Claus.”

 

Skinner stared back at him like he'd just grown a second head. “Santa Clause?” He couldn't be sure he heard it right. Santa Claus gave Alex Krycek a gift?

 

“I know! I know exactly what you're thinking; but the thing works just like he said it would.”

 

“Works how? What exactly does it do?”

 

“You squeeze it; think of some place in time where you want to go and it'll take you there.”

 

“Come off it, Krycek. I'm not some bug-eyed twelve-year old you can play that game with.”

 

“It's true; I swear. You want another demonstration?” Krycek said a little more settled now; at least Skinner hadn't thrown him out. “I can take you back any where in time but we can't change anything important; that's what he said. We can't stay very long or we'll be stuck in that time. If we stay an hour, we can't get back.”

 

“And you believe all this?” Skinner asked, still not believing. “Let me see that thing.” He reached for the ball.

 

Krycek tossed it to him and he looked it over carefully. “It just looks like a jack ball to me. My sister used to have a couple of these.” He gave the ball a squeeze and nothing happened. He gave Krycek a disgusted look and tossed it back to him.

 

“Santa said it was meant for me and it wouldn't work for anyone else.” Krycek said lamely, knowing how silly it all sounded.

 

“Well, you must have been a very good boy at something for `Santa' to give you a nice jack ball for Christmas.” He said the word `Santa' with a sneer.

 

“Skinner; it works. What more can I say? Let's try it out again. Where would you like to go? What would you like to see? I went back and saw them working on the pyramids.”

 

“The pyramids? THE pyramids? Get off it, Krycek. Just tell me why you're here and take your little jack ball and go.”

 

“All right, I'll go, but you're coming with me.” He stepped close to Skinner, closed his fist tightly and thought about the pyramids. In an instant they were standing there as a long line of men in rags and sandals hauled a huge square block along the way using ropes and pulleys.

 

Skinner raised an arm to shield his eyes from the sun; he could feel the heat beating down on his bare head and the sand moving beneath his feet as he took a few steps.

 

“Jesus Christ!” He turned back to Krycek. “Are we really here? In Egypt?”

 

“We are.” Krycek answered.

 

Skinner gasped as they heard the whip crack over the heads of the men struggling with the ropes. “Get us back. Now!”

 

Krycek complied and in another instant they were in Skinner's living room. Skinner stumbled back a few steps then went to his liquor cabinet, fixed himself a drink and took several large gulps.

 

“Are you OK?” Krycek asked him.

 

“Uh huh. How does it work?” He asked a little unsteady.

 

“Santa said it was magic.” Krycek answered.

 

“Will you quit with the Santa shit and tell me where you got that thing?”

 

“I was sitting in a bar over on 114th Street and a guy dressed like Santa Claus came in and sat down at my table. He said he had one last gift to give out and he thought I was the one who was supposed to get it. He said the ball wouldn't glow or work for any one but the person it was meant for. He squeezed it and it lit up just a little bit. When I squeezed it, it lit up the whole room. No one else seemed to notice it though so that's why I asked you if you could see it. So we know now that you can see it, and it can take both of us places.”

 

“This Santa; did he say anything else? You don't have any idea who he was? Where he came from? Who sent him?”

 

“That's about it. I got it last night and drank a little too much so I thought I'd better wait until today before I tried it again.”

 

“Do you think it's of alien origin?” Skinner asked squinting at the red ball as Krycek held it.

 

“I don't know. I have no idea.”

 

“So why did you bring it to me?” Skinner was regaining some of his composure.

 

“Next week will be the New Year and that's just what I want it to be; a new year. I'm quitting the rat race. I'm getting out. But before I go, I wanted you to know the truth about me.”

 

“And what truth would that be?” Skinner was still suspicious; it was his nature.

 

“I could talk and talk to you and you would never believe me. With this, I can take you there, show you what happened; show you the truth.”

 

“About what?”

 

“About everything. Right from the beginning. I want to take you back with me. Will you go? Will you let me show you?”

 

“What is it you want to show me?”

 

“How I got mixed up in all this; how I got tricked into working for the Consortium.”

 

“You were tricked?”

 

“Yes! Please; will you come with me?”

 

“What do I have to do?”

 

“Nothing. Apparently we don't seem to be noticed when we go back. That guy with the whip walked right past us; I don't think he even saw us. Let's just go back to my first day at the Hoover. We won't try to interact with anyone; we'll just watch and I don't think they will even know we are there.”

 

Skinner set his glass back down on the cabinet and walked over to Krycek. “OK. This is your game. We'll see where it takes us.”

 

Krycek stepped over next to him and squeezed the red ball. The room lit up and they found themselves standing at the top of a flight of stairs in the Hoover building. It was a normal day, people coming and going; no one paying them any attention.

 

“Look, there!” Krycek pointed down the stairs at himself, eight years before; greasy hair, ill-fitting suit and heading for the stairs.

 

“That's you.” Skinner said in a whisper.

 

“Uh huh. Now watch what happens. This was my first day assigned here.”

 

As young Krycek topped the stairs a near-by door opened and Cancer man stepped out. He greeted Krycek. “Agent Krycek? Welcome to the Hoover. Come into my office, please.” They followed them into an office.

 

“This is not Cancer man's office.” Skinner whispered.

 

“I know that now, but I sure didn't know that then.” Krycek whispered back.

 

Spender was giving a big spiel about welcoming Krycek and telling him how happy they were to have a new agent of is caliber and that he was chosen to be given special assignments from time to time. That he should continue on to meet his new AD and not speak of their meeting to anyone. Afterwards, young Krycek was walked to the door and escorted back out into the hall.

 

“What the hell was that all about?” Skinner asked as they emerged back in his living room again.

 

“That was how I met Spender. I thought he was with the bureau!”

 

“And you accepted assignments from him without consulting your AD?”

 

“I did! He led me to believe it was all Bureau work.”

 

“And you did it all without question?”

 

“I did. I was young and green and didn't know any better.” Krycek said.

 

“Jesus!” Skinner said rubbing a hand down over his face. He walked over and plopped down on the couch. As an afterthought he said, “Sit,” to Krycek.

 

Krycek took a seat at the far end of the couch. “I had no idea what I was getting into, Skinner; I swear.”

 

“OK, OK; what else.” Skinner wasn't sure what else there could be but he was in it too far to quit now.

 

“Everything - anything; I can show you that it wasn't me who killed Mulder's father. It was Cardinal. He's also the one who shot Scully's sister. Do you want to go see?”

 

“No. Not right now. What else?”

 

“I found Scully. When she was missing; I found her and got her to the hospital?”

 

“You were involved in her kidnapping. You knew where she was all along.”

 

“No! No, I didn't. I knew she was going to be taken but it was supposed to be for only a few days to keep Mulder occupied. My job was just to keep Mulder from stopping the kidnapping. I knocked the tram operator out and stopped the tram.”

 

“You didn't knock him out; you shot him.”

 

“I didn't shoot him. I hit him on the head with the butt of my gun. I heard later that he had been shot. I guess cancer man had it done. He met me there. He had a plane ticket for me; took me back to the airport and next thing I knew I was in Finland. I was there for three weeks. When I got back I heard that Scully was still missing so I started searching for her. I finally found her in one of the old man's labs. She was nearly dead but I got her to the hospital. That's all I could do for her.”

 

“I don't believe a word of that.” Skinner said.

 

Krycek squeezed the red ball and they were standing side by side in a dark room.

 

“Where the hell are we, Krycek?” Skinner whispered.

 

“Just watch.” Krycek answered. After a moment the door opened and Krycek of five years ago slipped into the room. He pulled out a small flash light and pointed it around the room. It was only then that Skinner could see they were in a lab of some sort.

 

They watched as Krycek walked over to a table, pulled back a sheet and cursed. He put a hand against the side of Scully's neck and found that she was still alive. He wrapped the sheet around her, hoisted her up on his shoulder and carried her out to his car and drove off. An instant later they were back on the couch.

 

“Shit. I don't know how that damn thing works but it's playing hell with my stomach.” Skinner got up, went to his desk and took out some Rolaids. He popped two into his mouth and began to chew.

 

“I don't know how it works either, Skinner, or why it was given to me but I'm going to use it as long as I can to clear my name; at least with you.”

 

“What good will that do?”

 

“At least one person will know that I'm not a traitor or a murderer.” He waited until Skinner sat down on the corner of his desk before he continued. “Do you want to go see Cardinal killing Malissa and Mr. Mulder?”

 

“No thank you. I'm fully aware of Cardinal's capabilities with a gun. If you say he did it; I have no choice now but believe it. Do you want me to get Mulder over here so you can show him?”

 

“No. I don't care what Mulder thinks of me. He can think what he likes. I won't be around for him to use as a punching bag anymore.”

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

“I'm going to leave. I've already decided. The only thing keeping me here was I didn't want to leave without telling you the truth. Do you believe me now?”

 

“I don't know. I don't really know what to believe any more.”

 

“You don't believe what you just saw with your own eyes?”

 

“I know what I just saw; but I don't know how it was done; how you were able to show that to me. It could be just another trick.”

 

“All right. I can see where you might think that. Suppose you think up a time, or an event and we'll see if we can go back there. That should prove to you once and for all that this thing is on the level.”

 

“Any place, any time, any event?” Skinner asked, coming back over to the couch and sitting down again.

 

“Yeah. That's what Santa said.” He rolled the ball in his hand while he waited for Skinner to come up with something. Then he added, “It would have to be something that I would know about so I can picture it in my mind. I have to be able to think it.”

 

“OK. It will have to be something that you wouldn't have thought of; wouldn't have time to prepare something to show me; something that you would never expect me to ask you to show me.”

 

“Whatever,” Krycek answered. He leaned back against the back of the couch and waited while Skinner mulled the matter over in his mind.

 

“All right. I've got it now. Show me how you lost your arm.”

 

“Shit, Skinner! Why that?” Krycek was appalled.

 

“Because it's something that you wouldn't think I'd ask to see. Can you show it to me or not?”

 

“I can. I just never thought of you as being that blood-thirsty before.”

 

“Put up or shut up, Krycek.” Skinner thought he had him but he was mistaken. Krycek's only reluctance was in re-living the painful incident again.

 

“I'll show you, if that's what you want to see.” He sat up on the edge of the couch now, facing Skinner.

 

“It is. Take me there. I want to see it for myself.”

 

Krycek stared at him for a minute then closed his eyes and squeezed the ball. When he opened them again he was back in the woods standing beside Skinner. They watched together as Krycek was talking to the group of men. “I can't leave yet. I have to find my friend; the one who was with me in the truck. He's got to be hiding somewhere in these woods.” The two-armed Krycek was saying.

 

“We have searched for three days now. He is no where to be found. He's either back in the gulag or he made his way back into town.” One of the one-armed men was saying.

 

“I have to be sure. Is there no way you can find out if he's been taken back to the gulag? I'm not leaving without him.”

 

“Sleep now. We will search again tomorrow.” The one armed man said and they settled down around the fire for the night. All was quiet for a time then they watched as the men gathered quietly together; whispering among them. One took out a long knife and placed in the fire. They talked a bit more, occasionally looking back over their shoulders as Krycek lay sleeping beside the fire.

 

“I can't watch this,” Krycek whispered to Skinner and turned his back. Skinner watched closely in fascination. The men circled back around the fire and came upon the sleeping Krycek. They leapt upon him, each grabbing an arm or leg; all holding him down. One pulled the white hot knife from the flames and walked over to Krycek and knelt down. His back was to Skinner but there was no doubt as to what was happening. Krycek struggled and screamed and screamed until he passed out. The night was filled with silence as the men finished their job and tossed the arm into the fire. Skinner gagged at the smell of burning flesh and grabbed onto Krycek. In an instant they were back in Skinner's living room.

 

Krycek jumped from the couch, ran to the bathroom off the kitchen and vomited. Skinner walked in behind him, placing a hand on Krycek's shoulder to comfort him. He pulled out a wash cloth, rinsed it in the sink and handed it to Krycek. He wiped his face with it and caught his breath. The spasms stopped and they went back into the living room.

 

Skinner offered him a bottle of water and Krycek took it and drank.

 

“I'm sorry. I had no idea. I knew you lost it in Tunguska, I had no idea it happened like that. Why did you stay?”

 

“I was looking for Mulder. I saw the truck after he crashed it and there was blood on the window. I thought he was out there somewhere hurt. I couldn't just go off and leave him.” He took another long drink of water before he went on. “A few days later I made my way into town. I called the old man and told him what happened. He told me that Mulder was already back in DC so I left.”

 

Skinner stood up and began to pace the floor. “All right. So we know now that that red ball of yours works. I don't know how it works, but it seems that it does. What do you plan on doing with it?”

 

“Nothing. I just wanted to use it enough to show you the truth about me.”

 

“All the things you could do with something like this and all you can think of to do with it is show me?”

 

“You're the only one that really matters. I don't give a damn about what anyone else thinks about me.” Krycek said as he sat there holding the cool bottle of water against the side of his face. He was tired now; tired of all of it. He just wanted to go home, get some sleep and plan his departure.

 

“Why do I matter?” Skinner was genuinely puzzled. He thought Krycek hated him.

 

“Because I did so much to you; so much that I didn't want to do. But it kept us both alive so I guess in the long run, I'm not sorry I did any of it. I just wanted you to know that none of it was my idea and I would have given anything not to have caused you so much pain.”

 

Skinner paced the floor some more then stopped again in front of Krycek. “Why didn't you go to your AD when you found out about Spender?”

 

“Because I didn't know who to trust by that time. Besides, it was too late. I was already in too deep.” Krycek rubbed his forehead and ran a hand through his short dark hair.

 

“You could have come to me. I would have helped you.”

 

“The last thing I wanted was for you to think I was some green moron who just walked into this mess. I figured sooner or later I'd find a way out.”

 

“You think you've found that now?” Skinner asked.

 

“I don't know; maybe.”

 

“You really going to quit? Where will you go? What will you do?”

 

“I've got a few ideas. I've been thinking about this for years now. It's time I got out. The old man's about done for. The Consortium is all but wiped out.”

 

“How are you going to live? What kind of work will you do?” Skinner just couldn't imagine starting over from scratch.

 

“I've got a few things in mind. I've got some money put aside. I may just retire. Find me a little place somewhere.”

 

“You could always write about what happened to you; call it fiction; no one would ever know the difference.” Skinner offered. They shared a little chuckle at that.

 

“I guess I should go and let you get back to whatever it was you were doing.” Krycek stood up and headed for the door.

 

Skinner gave a backward glance at his computer and admitted sheepishly, “I was just playing Yahtzee.” He grinned a little; he didn't know what to say.

 

“I've played that. I like it. You play triple or single?” Krycek asked.

 

“Triple. It's the best; more challenging.” Skinner smiled.

 

“Yeah; that's what I play. Well, thank you for your time.” He stalled at the door, not wanting to leave.

 

“You in a hurry or something? I mean it's Christmas. Have you eaten? I don't have any turkey but I've got some fine steaks in the freezer. Why don't you stay a while? I can cook them up. I've got potatoes we can bake and stuff for a salad. Do you have other plans?”

 

Krycek looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. “You're spending Christmas alone?”

 

“Yeah; I mean … who would I be spending Christmas with?” Skinner was disgusted with himself for sounding so needy.

 

“I thought maybe you might be expecting Mulder.” Krycek said.

 

“Mulder? No; he's spending the day with Scully at her Mother's place. They're having dinner there.”

 

“Oh; so they're on again?” Krycek grinned.

 

“On again?” Skinner asked.

 

“Yeah, you know them; one time you see them they act like nothing more than co-workers; the next time you see them, they're stuck together like Siamese twins.”

 

“Oh. I see what you mean. They do seem to have a hard time defining their relationship. So how about it? Why don't you stay; we can talk.” Skinner smiled at him, having no idea what that smile did to Krycek.

 

“If you're sure you want me to?” Krycek fumbled his answer.

 

“Positive. I've got a lot more questions I'd like to ask you.”

 

xxxxxxxxxx

 

Thirty minutes later they were sitting across from each other at Skinner's kitchen table and finishing off their steaks.

 

“This was delicious, Skinner; but what else was it you wanted to ask me.” Krycek wiped his mouth on a napkin and drank some of his tea.

 

Skinner placed his fork on his plate and sat staring at Krycek. “Why was it so important that I know the truth about you?” He asked.

 

“The truth is always important to the right person.” Krycek answered.

 

“And I'm that right person?”

 

“You are. Do you think Mulder would believe me?”

 

“Maybe if you took him there like you did me.”

 

“I don't think Mulder would have believed even then. He doesn't believe because he doesn't want to believe. He's right so often about so many things that he thinks he's right about everything and he isn't.”

 

“Then I would think it would be him you would be sharing this truth with.”

 

“I guess when you come right down to it; I don't care what he believes anymore.”

 

“And you do care what I believe?” Skinner asked.

 

“That's right.”

 

Skinner stood and started clearing away the debris from the table. Krycek stood and helped; carrying the dishes over to the sink and scraping them. In a few minutes they had the place clean and went back into the living room.

 

“Why, Krycek? Why me?” Skinner asked as they sat on opposite ends of the couch.

 

Krycek grinned a little and shook his head. “Are you really that dense, Skinner?”

 

Skinner stared at him for a minute then got up and fixed himself a drink. “Can I get you something?”

 

“No thanks.”

 

Skinner finished and came back to the couch carrying his glass. He sat sipping it and staring at the floor in front of him. “I guess I just … wanted to hear you say it.”

 

“You want me to say it? Spell it out?” Krycek asked.

 

Skinner nodded his head without looking up. His entire world was changing around him; his whole existence everything he had thought and believed, shifted a little. How could this be? Krycek cared for him? If he was totally honest with himself he'd have to admit that he was attracted to Krycek; from their first meeting on. He had just always considered him off limits as he never got involved with anyone at the Hoover; never.

 

“You're the only one who matters to me because I care about you. I always have. Now don't go getting all riled up. I know that's not in the cards. It's just an old day dream of mine; ya know? Some guys dream about Marilyn Monroe; I dream about Walter Skinner.” He waited for a response; there was none. Skinner sat there sipping at his drink and staring at the floor.

 

“You're not going to say anything?” Krycek asked.

 

“You saved my life. In that garage the night Orgel infected me with the nanabots. You ran that guy down who was shooting at me. It was you in that car.”

 

“That's right.” Krycek admitted.

 

“And when I was in the hospital; I saw you there when I woke up. Did you bring me back?”

 

“Uh huh. Orgel was going to let you die to show off his work; I couldn't let that happen.” Krycek answered.

 

“I thought you hated me; I thought …”

 

“You thought wrong.”

 

Skinner looked up then and met the green eyes staring at him.

 

“Why didn't you ever say anything; let me know?”

 

“Would it have made any difference? I did what I had to do to keep us both alive.”

 

Skinner stared at him trying to read his thoughts then said, “I hated you for so many years; I thought you hated me too.”

 

“Never! Not for one minute.”

 

“All that time … all those things … were to keep us both alive?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“The DAT tape? The beating in the stairwell?”

 

“That too. I had to make it look good. Cardinal wanted that job; he had a new switchblade he was itching to use.”

 

“So instead of the switchblade; I got your fists?”

 

“That's about it.”

 

“I wish I'd known.”

 

“It doesn't matter now. It's all over with. Tomorrow I'll be gone.” Krycek said and looked down. He had to break eye contact; it was becoming too intense.

 

Skinner stood up and walked over to his liquor cabinet. He didn't fix another drink; he just stood there fiddling with the bottles. He could hardly believe the words came out of his mouth but he said, “If I asked you to stay; would you?”

 

“Why? Why would you want me to stay?” Krycek got up and walked over to Skinner.

 

“There must be more … I mean more we need to talk about; more questions that need to be answered.” His thought process wasn't working properly; all he could think about was that Krycek cared about him. This amazing green-eyed person beside him cared about him in a way no one else has in years; and for some reason that meant the world to him. He had to fight with himself to keep control. “I'm sure I have more answers; I mean I need more questions. Shit. I don't know what I mean.” He inhaled deeply and broke eye contact. Somehow for some reason he kept getting drawn back and lost in those green eyes. It had been so long since anyone had looked at him like that.

 

“I thought you'd slug me when I told you.” Krycek smiled at him shyly.

 

“No! Why would I do that? Oh … well … I guess I can see why you might have thought that.” Skinner smiled back at him. The pull between them growing stronger as his will-power weakened.

 

“If you have more questions?” Krycek stepped closer.

 

Skinner's mind spiraled off in a thousand different directions; none of them having anything to do with questions. Just the scent of Krycek being that close; the way his words were spoken so softly; the way his lips moved as he spoke; it was all more than he could resist. Skinner's hand moved of its own volition and caressed Krycek's cheek. He flinched a little from the touch but made no move to avoid it. Krycek had never known such tenderness. Just the tips of Skinner's fingers sliding down his jaw line; he thought for a moment that he might pass out.

 

Both of Skinner's hands came up and held Krycek's face between them. “Stay with me,” he whispered, “At least tonight.” He brought their mouths together then in the gentlest of kisses. They parted only long enough to catch a breath then Skinner pulled Krycek into his arms sealing their lips together as if their very lives depended on it.

 

Krycek melted into the embrace as if he had always done so when in reality he had never been kissed like this in his life. His arms came up around Skinner's shoulders and he held on tight; this was one memory he was going to savor for years to come. When the kiss broke and after they both gasped in air; Krycek whispered, “I'll stay with you as long as you want me.”

 

Skinner peeled the leather jacket back off Krycek's shoulders and tossed it to a chair. Another breathless kiss and he was backing Krycek up towards the steps. Krycek stumbled a bit, caught his balance and asked, “Are you sure about this?”

 

“Uh huh.” Skinner shook his head and backed Krycek up the stairs. “Are you?”

 

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” Both arms came around Skinner's neck as their lips came together again.

 

At the top of the stairs Skinner's shirt came off. He flung it towards the railing but missed and it sailed over and down into the living room. Another shirt hit the floor outside the bedroom door. Shoes were toed off as they groped their way to the bed. In seconds, snaps came loose, zippers down and jeans and slacks hit the floor. They sank down onto the bed into the softness of the comforter and pillows; Skinner on top and Krycek holding tightly to him.

 

Skinner rolled them over so he was on his back and Krycek resting on top of him. They gasped for air and continued the assault on each other's mouths as hands roamed over each other's bodies. The semi-darkness of the room was filled with soft moans, the sounds of kissing and men gasping to drag air into their lungs.

 

Skinner was on top again, pressing his body weight down onto Krycek's and he clung tightly; lost in passion. Skinner barely took notice whether his hand was caressing flesh or plastic; it didn't matter, it wasn't important. The only thing that mattered was Krycek. Krycek was in his bed; Krycek was kissing him; wanting him.

 

Krycek gave it his all; all the pent up years of longing for this man holding him. He kissed and held and loved like he'd never done it before and he hadn't. Not with anyone he cared so deeply for. He was with Skinner now, in his bed and he was being given a chance to show this man how much he adored him. He did not waste a movement or a breath yet nothing was calculated. It all just happened as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Their passion ignited a frenzy between them that could only be satisfied when Skinner entered him.

 

He laid very still; his legs up on Skinner's broad shoulders; his mouth open; gasping for air. Skinner leaned down and took his mouth again and he gave it up willingly - a momentary respite, of soft gentle kisses before they were carried away again into the depths of passion the likes of which neither had ever known.

 

The room smelled of sweat and semen when Skinner slipped out and lay beside Krycek while they fought to resume normal breathing. Skinner held him tightly, refusing to let him go even for a moment. Krycek leaned in close, resting his head against a sweaty shoulder. For several moments there was no sound except that of their heavy breathing.

 

Skinner cleared his throat and spoke first. “Ahem … Are you OK?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Good. I got a little carried away there. I hope I didn't hurt you.”

 

“No; I probably won't be able to sit down for a week but what the hell.”

 

“Oh Jeeze; I'm sorry. Are you sure you're OK?” Skinner pressed his cheek against the soft sable head resting on his shoulder.

 

“I'm not complaining; believe me. You just totally ruined it for any other possible partner that I might encounter; that's all.”

 

Skinner chuckled and cuddled Krycek a little closer. After another few minutes he spoke again. “I never really knew you at all; did I?”

 

“No; you didn't. If you had, you would know that this is what I've been dreaming about for the last eight years. Being here with you, like this.”

 

“I wish I'd known.”

 

“The past doesn't matter. You know now.” Krycek snuggled closer nuzzling his nose into the furry chest hair.

 

“Yeah, and that's really not fair, you know? You show me this Alex Krycek and then you skip town.”

 

“You could always come with me.” Krycek leaned up on his elbow to gaze into the brown eyes.

 

“Come with you?” Skinner asked.

 

“Sure. Why not? Don't you ever get tired of it all? Wouldn't you like to be lying on a beach somewhere or hiking in the mountains?” Krycek asked with a devilish grin; an expression Skinner had never seen from him before. He caressed the side of Krycek's face; finger tips wandering over the kiss-swollen lips.

 

“You and me? Together?” The thought warmed him in more ways than he thought possible. Krycek in his bed? Every night? The very thought of it took his breath away.

 

“Sounds pretty good to me.” Krycek grinned down at him.

 

“You serious?” Skinner had to ask.

 

“Never been more serious in my life. You could take a leave of absence and take off with me. If you change your mind, you could always come back to the Bureau. If you decide you like retired life we could find us a place somewhere. I don't care where; as long as it's a long way from DC.”

 

Skinner sat up then, still holding on to Krycek's arm. “Just take off? Just like that?”

 

“Uh huh. Just the two of us. No more reports, no more meetings, no more unruly agents to look after. Just you and me together every day and every night; just like this one.”

 

Skinner got up from the bed then and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. A moment later he stuck his head out and said, “Join me?”

 

Krycek scampered off the bed and in moments they were under the cascading hot water soaping each other up. “When are you planning on leaving?” Skinner asked as Krycek lathered up his back.

 

“When can you get away?” Krycek whispered in his ear and sucked on an ear lobe.

 

“I'm not expected back to work until the 3rd… I mean; shit, I don't know what I mean.” He turned around facing Krycek. He took him in his arms for a long slow kiss; their sated bodies far from being aroused, just needing the closeness.

 

“You really want me? On a full time basis?” Skinner asked; still unable to believe all that had happened.

 

“Uh huh. I'll even help you pack. Just say the word.”

 

Skinner hesitated only a moment before saying, “Consider it said.” Skinner kissed him again then whirled around, cut the water off and grabbed for a towel.

 

Less than an hour later they were on the road, heading west towards a new life for both of them; away from DC and all it's intrigue; a small red ball resting in the pocket of a black leather jacket awaiting further adventures.

 

The End.