DISCLAIMERS: Fox Mulder and Alex Krycek belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, Fox, and basically a lot of people who aren't us. We only want to play with them for a little while, so it would be kinda nice if nobody sued us.

SPOILERS: Small ones for "Terma" and "The Red and the Black"

WARNINGS/RATINGS NOTE: NC-17 for sick humor, some poor language, pretty boys doing messy things, and the implied corruption of children. If this sort of thing bothers you, you should really take a powder right about now. And this is rather out of character.

THANKS AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: To Alicia, who once again suffered herself to beta and provide incredible lines. You're too good for us all. And to Dreamerlea, whose own thoughts and feedback were greatly appreciated. All remaining mistakes are, of course, our own.

ARCHIVING INFORMATION: Please ask first.

ALL FEEDBACK to Viridian5@aol.com and thete1@earthlink.net

4/98

"The Slumber Party"
by Viridian5 and Té
A VD Production

The sudden knock at the door surprised Mulder. Most people visiting his apartment either picked the lock or, in Scully's case, used her key to open the door, both with no prior announcement. Maybe he had really polite gunmen wanting to visit him tonight.

Mulder put down the case files he'd been reviewing, picked up his Sig, and crept to the door. A muffled voice said, "It's me, Mulder," twisting the agent's stomach into fluttery knots. He opened the door.

A very scruffy Krycek grinned at him from the hallway. Mulder's eyes took in the stubble, battered leather jacket, worn and faded black jeans, scuffed boots, fraying sweater, and dilapidated knapsack. Only the black leather gloves looked new. Krycek looked tired and disreputable and

//Irresistible//

"Aren't you going to let me in? I was nice enough to knock this time," Krycek said.

"I should *turn* you in," Mulder answered, but stepped aside so Krycek could enter. Two weeks since that kiss and Mulder had spent every day of them half-dreading and half-praying Krycek would return.

Greatly daring, Krycek took the forgotten gun from Mulder's hand and put it to rest on the coffee table. "We're not playing this game tonight, Mulder. I have a headache."

Mulder fought to regain his mental balance and stop staring. "What do you want?"

"Just to visit." //And to see you.// Krycek couldn't stop himself from staring either. Mulder wore an old sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off, revealing his arms and occasional, teasing glimpses of his chest. His sweatpants had been worn to near-transparency in places. Somehow the outfit seemed to offer a more intimate look at Mulder than nakedness would. Not that Krycek intended to turn that down if the opportunity ever presented itself, and if he had his way it would.

"And?"

"I need a place to stay tonight. The leak about the military base got traced to me somehow, so I had to move." Krycek counted on Mulder's finely developed senses of guilt and obligation, as well as the muted lust Mulder emanated, to get him what he wanted.

//Make him fight for it. Make him beg for it.// "You can stay." //D'oh! You have no willpower, Mulder. None at all.//

Krycek's eyes glittered as he smiled again. "Thanks, Mulder. I'll go clean up." He walked into the bathroom without another word, leaving Mulder staring with his mouth open.

//Pushy bastard. Already taking over the place.// When the shower turned on, Mulder tried to force his mind elsewhere but it slid back into its rut. The kiss again. Krycek had moved so quickly that night that Mulder had expected something bruising, but instead felt a faint, warm breath at the side of his face followed by the brush of soft lips against his skin and the hot flick of Krycek's tongue against his mole. Krycek could have done anything after that, with Mulder too blissed-out to stop or even want to stop him, but instead his former partner had handed over the gun and left Mulder sitting there confused and aching.

Mulder tried to distract himself by gathering blankets and pillows for Krycek, but nothing helped. He could probably look at the kitchen linoleum and be reminded of what it felt like to have his former partner pressed up against him. He couldn't let that happen. Krycek scented weakness like a hound on the hunt.

When Krycek emerged from the shower, Mulder was kneeling on the floor putting together a makeshift bed. Mulder felt a wave of heat at the sight. Krycek had changed out of his scruffy clothing into something elegant and luxurious looking that had the luster of silk. Mulder's fingers itched to pet the fabric to see if it felt as soft and slick as it looked. The top and bottoms were some dark color that could at first be mistaken for black but showed another color, perhaps a deep green like Krycek's eyes, where the dim light hit them. The discordant note of the black leather glove still on the prosthetic's hand sparked some odd Star Wars associations, but he found even that sexy.

Mulder realized that Krycek was checking out his ass, and quickly turned away, not sure even as he moved whether he did it to stop himself from drooling over Krycek or to give Krycek a better view.

"Hey, Mulder," Krycek sounded vastly amused.

"What?"

"Pillow fight!"

Mulder rolled out of the way barely in time. He stood up and looked at Krycek, who grinned like a lunatic as he readied himself for another shot. "We're not doing this." The pillow swung again, whipping Mulder's hair around. "We are * not *--" The next shot hit Mulder squarely on the left side of the head. "Oh, that's it, now you're dead." Mulder picked up a pillow and gave chase.

The battle took them all through the room and knocked over a lamp, several books, and a sheaf of papers. While Krycek had the greater real-fight experience and more strength in his pillow arm, Mulder's days battling Samantha's unexpectedly sneaky pillow attacks stood him in good stead. Each took some hard blows but the adrenaline rush prevented them from feeling it. Dizzy, Mulder finally left himself open to a shot that bounced him off the wall and into Krycek.

Krycek took immediate advantage and pulled Mulder in for a long kiss. Mulder melted into it and clasped him tightly while running his hands up and down Krycek's spine through the slippery fabric of his top. //Oh, he smells like my soap.// They rubbed against one another almost mindlessly. Krycek's hand drifted under the waistband of Mulder's sweatpants and trailed down his ass. Mulder moaned into his mouth before breaking away shaken and more than a little breathless.

Remembering their last kiss, Mulder asked, "You couldn't do that in my apartment?"

"We *are* in your apartment, Mulder."

Alex's rich voice caressed Mulder like silk, and Mulder had to fight for the control to stay angry at the younger man's mockery.

"You know what I mean, Krycek!" //Great, I'm babbling like an idiot. Krycek 1, Mulder's brain 0.//

The other man's eyes narrowed a bit in frank speculation. He stepped in and cupped Mulder's groin with a gentle hand before whispering--

"Call me Alex?"

--against the older man's lips. Mulder's hips thrust against the warm palm, and he moaned at the contact before diving in to claim Alex's mouth with his own--a move that probably saved his life. As it happened, the bullet that came crashing through the window merely grazed the back of his neck.

"Fuck! Get down, Mulder!"

Alex didn't wait for a response. He drove the agent to the floor, eminently thankful for the blankets and pillows that saved his elbow from serious damage.

"Who's trying to kill you *this* time, Alex?"

//Well I suppose I should be happy he remembered to call me by my first name...// "I have no fucking clue. We need to get out of here right now." Krycek grabbed his boots, jacket, and knapsack.

"There's a secret ex--"

"Behind the furnace and leading through the dry cleaner's next door, right, I know."

"Of *course* you do. Shit, does that mean they do, too?"

Alex pulled the Glock he had secreted in the small of his back, flicked the safety off, and grinned.

"Well, I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

"Al--"

"Where's your sense of adventure, Fox?"

"Don--"

"C'mon, I'll take point. Follow me and stay low."

The corridor was clear, but from the stairwell they heard the ding of the elevator and several muffled voices. They raced down the stairs, keeping to the edges to minimize telltale creaks. >From the darkened cleaner's they burst onto the deserted Alexandria streets, instinctively arranging themselves roughly back to back, guns drawn and searching for targets.

"What next?"

Alex scanned for likely vehicles.

"There, the blue Hyundai."

Mulder spun on him.

"You want to steal a car?"

"You want to go 'round front and get yours?"

The two men glared at each other for a moment before Mulder shook his head curtly and gestured for Alex to precede him. Mulder covered his former partner's back, while Alex swiftly picked the lock and opened the passenger door before bending down to hotwire the ignition.

"Where are we going?"

"Elsewhere?"

"Smartass. There should be a safe house over in Chevy Cha--"

Mulder's words were cut off when the other man suddenly grabbed his head and pulled it into his lap. The agent immediately began to struggle, and Alex hissed at him.

"Stay *still*, Mulder. One of them is looking out your window for us. They expect to see two men together, not one. Just relax and let me get us out of here!"

"Mmmph ummpha oo obesph ii ode. Aa phy eeeming."

"I did *not* break your nose, and you're only bleeding a little. And stop that."

"Urrph?"

"Never mind. Just... be quiet." Alex finally took his hand away from Mulder's nape, instantly regretting the loss of contact and the incipient loss of the wonderful vibrations against his groin.

Mulder silently decided that even with the torture his spine was subjected to in the tiny car there were worse positions to be in than face down in Alex Krycek's groin. He settled as best he could, reveling in the musky scent of the other man's barely belayed arousal and the tiny hitch in Alex's breath each time Mulder moved. Minutes passed. Several minutes.

"Um... I think you can move now, Mulder."

Mulder chuckled throatily against the bulging jeans before lifting his face to the other man's slightly pointed ear and licking its shell.

"Are you sure?"

He was rewarded with a low groan and the sight of knuckles tightening on the steering wheel.

"I... I'm sure."

The agent promptly sat up and began to rock his torso to relieve his aching back, wicked smile shining through the grimace of pain.

"Good."

"Just where is this safe house?"

"459... Baker Street."

"You sound hesitant."

"Well I've *heard* the address; I've never actually seen it or been there. We'll find it."

"Right. Fine."

The rest of the ride was passed in silence and before long they found themselves on the doorstep of a darkened colonial.

"I don't suppose you have a key?"

"Where, exactly, would I be storing one?"

Alex took in Mulder's sweats with a leer.

"Maybe we can do a body cavity search?"

The agent's eyebrows crept nearly to his hairline as he stepped back, but Alex had already picked the lock and stepped inside. Mulder followed after a moment, only to slam headlong into the younger man's still form, sending them both to the floor in a heap.

"Alex, what th--"

"Ewww! Boys!"

Mulder quickly untangled himself to search for the source of the piping voice... to find himself staring at a room full of 10 year old girls in pajamas.

"So much for your eidetic memory..."

The older man glared in response and found himself on the receiving end of a painstakingly innocent look and a barely perceptible shrug.

"What are *you* doing at my party?"

The speaker was a small red headed girl whose face was, by all appearances, one large freckle. Mulder made to reply while edging towards the door, but was abruptly halted by a hand on his arm.

"We're federal agents, little girl, and we--"

"Kelsey."

"Wha--"

"My name is Kelsey, not *little girl*."

Alex quirked a brow at the child and briefly wondered if his belief that he and Mulder would be safe here was ill-considered. However, one look at the fetchingly haunted expression that was growing on his companion's face and he decided to barrel on.

"Kelsey. Of course, I'm sorry. What I was saying is that Mulder and--"

"What kind of stupid name is *Mulder*?"

"Oh, like you should really talk, Kelpy!"

"Don't call me that, Pusbrain!"

The situation was deteriorating apace. Tongues were being waggled, high-pitched voices were edging toward that frequency where dogs' ears bleed, and the tugs on Alex's arm were growing sharper. There was only one thing to do, really.

When he pulled his gun and calmly undid the safety, the children's sniping immediately halted. Alex chanced a look at the other man, but he appeared to be incapacitated with shock. The former agent allowed himself a moment of pleasure that modern children had no problem whatsoever identifying certain important sounds before continuing.

"Right. To continue, *Mulder*..." A mouth opened as if to comment, but a single green glare was more than enough to make young Ashley reconsider. "... and I are federal agents. We are commandeering this house for a... stakeout. Where are your parents, Kelsey?"

"Umm... they're gone for the weekend. My sister Krista is babysitting."

"Where's Krista?"

Kelsey uttered an extremely adult snort. "She's upstairs with her *boyfriend*, Russ." She was echoed by a chorus (albeit a stifled one) of pre-pubescent jeers.

"OK. Um... As you were, girls. Agent Mulder and I are going to speak to Krista."

"Hey, what's *your* name?"

"Why are you dressed like *that*?"

"Yeah, where are your badges?"

Alex looked to Mulder for help, but the other man simply folded his arms and waited. //I'll get you for this, Fox. . .// "I'm Agent Krycek, and we're--uh--we're undercover." //There. That sounded suitably official.// "Any other questions? No? Good."

The men headed for the stairs and started up, but before Alex could make the turn for the second flight Mulder yanked him to a halt.

"Mul-derrr... I thought we were done with the rough stuff."

"Alex, what are you *doing*? Never mind that you're not an agent anymore. Never mind that we've apparently occupied a house full of children, bu--"

"Girl Scouts, Mulder. They're Girl Scouts."

"Girl Scouts?"

"The "I" in FBI isn't working too well tonight, is it, Mulder? The cases of Samoas, the telltale line of sashes on the dining room table, the subtle bouquet of fascism in the air..."

"Fine. They're Girl Scouts. But what are we *doing* here?"

"Hey, I may have been driving, but you were the one with the directions, Mulder. Besides, those assassins weren't necessarily after *me*, you know. I think it's fair to assume that if they were after you they'd go looking for local safe houses. Whereas here we're safe *as* houses." Alex had moved to just beyond kissing distance during his speech and breathed the rest against the other man's mouth. "Besides, it's a slumber party... they'll go to sleep eventually..."

The agent was certain that there were some rather large flaws in the other man's reasoning, but a brief flutter of lashes against his cheek quickly banished his doubts. He felt Alex smile a little at his hesitation and dove in to steal a brief kiss before pulling away.

"I said *eventually*, Mulder."

"I know, I'm just taking a little on account."

Alex chuckled and shook his head before continuing up the stairs. As soon as they reached the landing it was obvious which room was Krista's. A Jane's Addiction CD was blasting through a door lovingly decorated with police tape and comic book posters, and there was a distinct scent of marijuana in the air. Mulder opened the door to find a tangled mass of teenager on the bed, barely distinguishable from the drifts of papers, crumpled clothing and general detritus of the floor. The change in pressure caused by the opened door sucked a thick grey cloud directly into Alex's face and he couldn't stifle a cough.

"Hey, man, close the door... we're trying to hotbox here..."

"Huh huh, you said box, Krissie..."

The witticism sent the teens into uncontrollable giggles. Alex and Fox shared a knowing look before quietly backing out of the room.

"Well, we know *they're* not going to be a problem."

Alex was still choking a bit, so Mulder rubbed his back for a little while. Solicitously, of course.

"Say, Alex, maybe we should leave a box of Thin Mints against the door, just in case they decide to come out later?"

"Hmmm... classic misdirection ploy... I'm proud of you, Mulder. C'mon, lets head back downstairs. Maybe we'll get lucky and the kids'll already be asleep."

"You want us to do what?" Mulder was incredulous.

"What good are you if you won't tell us a story?"

"I don't know any--hey, it's after 11 here, isn't it time for you kids to be sleeping?"

"Duh! It's a Friday, Agent *Molder*."

"We don't *have* bedtimes on Friday."

"I wanna story!"

"And some macaroni and cheese!"

"Macaro-- Alex?"

Krycek decided that "plaintively confused" was just as attractive as "hunted," so he simply propped himself against the wall and studiously avoided making eye contact. Mulder rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

//Sheesh. Maybe I should've apologized for all those punches...//

"Stor-y! Stor-y! Stor-y!"

"All right, all right! I'll tell you a story! Ummm... Once upon a time there were three little pigs and--"

"That's a *baby* story, Moldy!"

"You suck!"

Mulder swore he heard Krycek mutter, "Not as much as he should."

"Yeah, don't patronize us!"

"Patro... right. Well what *do* you want to hear?"

"Aww... it's no fun if we *tell* you that!"

"Make one up!"

"Make one... Alex, this is really more along the lines of your expertise, don't you think?"

The younger man raised an eyebrow at Mulder. Mulder noted the skepticism and decided to pull out all the stops. Hazel eyes dewified themselves. Alex remained strong. Brown hair drooped fetchingly over his brow. Alex began to tremble. Lower lip nearly crossed the distance between the two men in a world class pout.

"Ooookay, ladies. *I'll* tell you a story. Mulder, go make s'mores."

"What?"

Alex sucked his teeth at the agent. "Atmosphere, Mulder, we need *atmosphere*. Now go make the s'mores!"

"OK, OK, I'll make the s'mores."

There was a clatter from the kitchen as the agent began to gather the ingredients.

"Right, do all of you have your flashlights?"

The scouts made a beeline for their ever-prepared packs, and, almost as one, pulled out their trefoil branded penlights. Alex, of course, had his own.

"OK, everyone in a circle. Oh and get the lights, Kelsey."

"Everyone all set?"

"Yeah--"

"Tell the story tell the story tell the story--"

Alex positioned the flashlight under his chin and abruptly turned it on. Mulder had returned with the freshly microwaved treats and made to sit opposite to the younger man amidst a few grumbles from the girls. However, as expected, the sudden vision of that angelic face hollowed by the harsh white light promptly quieted the room.

"Krissie and Russ were necking out by the old warehouse..." Krycek began and the girls started to giggle, especially Kelsey. "They knew they shouldn't be there. They knew there was a curfew. But they weren't the type to listen. If they *had* been, they would've known that the reason a curfew was in effect was that there was a murderer on the loose. Billy Jack Henshaw, known as The Hook since a horrible accident at the meat packing plant where he'd worked. A mere two nights before Billy Jack escaped from the insane asylum where he'd been held..."

The children were instantly rapt. As for Mulder, the agent watched as Alex wove the hoary tale, breathing new life into it by acting out the voices of the hapless teens, drawing the children further in with each expertly reproduced nervous giggle and creak of leather seats.

Despite the constraints of sitting cross-legged on the floor, the younger man moved with his tale, seeming to stare directly into every last face within the circle at once... but Mulder had no trouble realizing when *he* was the object in focus. Each time Alex spoke in the voice of The Hook, his naturally rough tone took on an undeniably sexual edge, and the agent knew that no flashlight could be wholly responsible for the gleam in Alex's eyes.

"... Krissie, Krissie... sweet Krissie where's your man?"

"Stop it, please! Just let me go... I... I won't tell anyone oh please I *promise*..."

"Don't make me come in there after you, little girl... you know there's no way out now..."

Alex sobbed in a perfect imitation of terror.

"Krisssssiiieee... I'm coming in now, little girl, pretty girl... bad girl... Krissie, Krissie... sweet Krissie where's your man?" Alex chuckled deeply. "I know where he is, little girl... don't you want to join him?"

Despite himself Mulder had been pulled into the story. Whenever that small part of his mind that was still fully grounded in the reality of his situation began to mutter about things like the corruption of the young and how very well indeed the other man portrayed homicidal maniacs, those impossibly intense eyes seemed to zero in on him, and he was lost again. The girls had edged closer at some point and the agent was completely hemmed in by flannel and cotton.

A dozen pairs of eyes grew huge within the tiny beams of their flashlights, focused intently on the storyteller as he continued. Without warning Alex let out a scream made no less blood curdling by its breathy quiet. After a chorus of gasps Mulder would later vehemently deny joining all was silent once again.

Just as the older man moved to shut off his own light Alex began to speak once more. "You know... they never caught ol' Billy Jack. Nope, not at all. Billy Jack burned the old mill to the ground, and the wind scattered poor Russ and Krissie's ashes like so much dandelion fluff."

"Awww... c'mon! That makes no sense!"

"They *had* to have caught him in order for you to be able to tell the *story*."

"I *hate* when people cheat like that."

Alex thinned his lips to a stern line. "Cheat?" He nodded imperceptibly to Mulder, who smirked a little coldly and shone his flashlight directly at the other man who had set his own aside. "Who's cheating?"

Alex removed his prosthetic with a flourish and brandished it at the scouts.

"I don't cheat. BwuhahahahahHAAA!!!"

Miranda, who had earlier demanded the macaroni and cheese, immediately burst into tears. The others showed signs of following her example, but when Mulder fell over and began to chortle, the brief crisis was averted in an eruption of horrified giggles.

"Right. Who wants Ovaltine?"

"I do!"

"Me, too!"

"Yeah--"

"Miranda is a cry-baby. Miranda is a cry-baby, nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah--"

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

Miranda was no fool. She noted the change in mood and quickly changed to offense. "Yeah, well, you eat boogers, Assilon!"

"Do not!"

With their shrill voices reaching even into the kitchen, Alex knew that the time had come to put the little ankle-biters down for the night.

//Could always just shoot them... Nah, no telling how Mulder would react.//

The former agent pulled a small vial out of his pocket and measured out 6 tiny doses before systematically cutting them in half and dropping the tiny blue grains into twelve of the fourteen mugs. When the milk was warm he mixed up the Ovaltine, cheerfully adding 5 miniature marshmallows to each cup--and carefully pushing his and Mulder's off to one side.

"Hey, Mulder? Come give me a ha--"

The older man gave him no time to finish as he burst into the kitchen and hastily grabbed at the tray.

//Maybe I *could've* shot them...//

Alex schooled his expression to curiosity.

"What's up?"

"They're asking me if I have a girlfriend! How long does warm milk take on kids anyway?"

"Ummm... well it *is* late. I don't think it will take very long at all."

Less than fifteen minutes later the last of the children was snoring quietly in her sleeping bag. Across the room Mulder was slouched in a wing chair, face in his hands. Alex slipped silently over to the other man and knelt between sprawled thighs.

"Hmm...?"

The former agent raked short nails over Mulder's sweat pants, up the cotton covered chest and slender neck before resting his palm on the older man's nape and pulling him down for a brutally insistent kiss. Mulder fell into the embrace eagerly, the force of his full weight against the younger man knocking them both to the floor. Alex moaned into the agent's mouth and Mulder moved to brace himself against the floor... only to put a hand down on a Power Rangers sleeping bag. They had landed squarely on Allison.

"We can't do this here!"

Alex swiftly raised his head and sucked hard on the other man's nipple through the thin sweatshirt. Mulder arched into him, instinctively carding long fingers through the dark hair to hold him there, only to steel himself and pull away with a tortured groan.

"The kiddies are dead to the world, Mulder..."

"I am not getting fucked in a room full of Girl Scouts, Alex." //Or *on* a Girl Scout for that matter... My, she's a heavy sleeper...//

Mulder watched the other man's eyes flare at his statement. Alex's eyes were fully dilated, black with lust and more than a hint of violence. It was readily apparent that the younger man was deriving no small amount of gratification from groping him in a room full of unconscious children. Alex closed the distance between them until they were eye to eye, keeping his mouth just out of range of Mulder's searching lips.

"Is that what you want, Fox? You want me to fuck you?"

"Alex--"

The younger man grabbed Mulder's ass and pulled him forward, bringing the erection he'd been trying to conceal for the better part of the night hard against Mulder's own.

"Yes or no, Fox."

"Yesss," Mulder hissed and underscored his assent with a swivel of hips that left Alex groaning and bucking. The older man took advantage of briefly parted lips to let his tongue rove the confines of Alex's mouth before breaking away to gasp against his smooth cheek.

"Basement. Now."

Krista had gone downstairs for a drink of water but stopped at the door to the basement when she heard an odd noise coming from the laundry room. It sounded like someone had left the dryer running. She hadn't and Russ hadn't, and the thought of Kelsey or one of her little Girl Scout friends doing it made her laugh, so who was it? Curious, she picked up a heavy flashlight, turned it on, and went downstairs. A stab of fear went through her at the thought of thieves, but who would break in to do laundry?

As she reached the foot of the stairs she could hear sounds beneath the thrum of the machinery. Low moans and panting. She had to see this. She pointed the flashlight towards the noise.

Oh, wow.

One tall, gorgeous guy had another one pinned against the dryer. At eighteen--well, seventeen going on eighteen, but she was a very mature seventeen--she was more than old enough to know what they were doing even if she had no idea why they were doing it in her basement. At this point it almost made sense that the one doing the screwing had only one arm. A faint sheen of sweat shone on his incredible ass as he thrust over and over into the guy in front of him. His hand played in turn with the nipples and rather large endowment of his partner.

Russ only seemed more inadequate now. Krista realized that in one brief moment high school boys had been ruined for her. Hell, college boys would probably be a letdown too.

She recognized the voice of the one doing most of the moaning from earlier in the evening. She hadn't paid much attention then. >From the glimpses she got of his body as he writhed, she had been criminally negligent.

The one-armed man finally noticed her and turned his head to look at her. He kept on with what he was doing. He had the sweetest face and deepest eyes of anyone she'd ever seen, and he radiated a sense of danger that made her feel even hotter. "Is there anything I could do for you?" he asked with zero embarrassment.

Krista's first two possible answers--"Can I be next?" and "Can I help?"--mercifully stayed behind her teeth, but her third slipped out anyway. "Can I watch?"

He smiled. "What do you think you're doing now?" He seemed to be preening under her frankly admiring gaze.

"Alex?" the other man asked, his sex-roughened voice sounding dazed. Krista couldn't blame him.

"It's okay, Fox," Alex said as he abruptly thrust harder and deeper.

Krista thought, "Fox"?

Fox's whole body spasmed. "Oh, God!"

"You don't believe in God."

"I do now."

The exchange showed Krista exactly what tack to take. "I was trying to be polite. I'm Krista."

Alex laughed. "I like you, Krista. In maybe, oh, ten minutes, we'll have a thirty-minute... intermission. We haven't given *nearly* enough attention to the spin cycle. You could get us snacks or something." His eyes darkened. "If you don't mention us to your parents, then we won't say anything about the reason why you didn't know we were here."

Krista shuddered. "Deal. How long have you been going at it?"

"Hey, Fox, how long have we been down here?"

"You want me... to talk?" Fox gasped.

"*I* can talk."

"You're... not in my position."

"Maybe later." Alex followed his words with a tongue in Fox's ear. Fox purred and shuddered.

Krista realized that Alex was performing for her a little now, getting off on the knowledge that she was watching them. Interactive entertainment. Krista settled in to watch the show.

Two days later Mulder, in the depths of depression, sorted his wash in his apartment's laundry room. He hadn't heard from Alex since that incredible night. //C'mon, Mulder, what did you expect? You know what he's like, how he lives.// Small, stupid things brought him close to tears. Girl Scouts, macaroni and cheese, pillows, doing the laundry, even Samantha... //Trust me to associate someone I can never hold onto with things I have to deal with constantly.//

The sex had been beyond amazing, but Mulder also missed the company, the sound of another voice aside from the ones that haunted his head. The feeling of having a partner in crime. Getting out of his routine, strange as his routine would seem to most people, and getting caught up in the rush of the unpredictable. Being with Alex gave him the guts to do things he would never do on his own.

Once he thought about it, Mulder came to terms with Alex taking off the way he did. As hard as it had been to talk his way out of being found naked in the basement nesting in the family's clean clothing, ladies' lingerie tangled around his ankles, it would have been far worse if he had been discovered naked and entwined around Alex. Krista knew, but Mulder figured she wouldn't say a word.

Mulder sighed but couldn't help the guilty smile that slid across his face. Had he really kept on going with that girl watching? Not that she had any complaints. //You're a slut, Mulder.//

When Mulder heard the door open and close, his hand drifted to the gun in his waistband. Just because he was paranoid didn't mean... He cast a covert glance at the new arrival and started to smile.

Grinning, Alex closed the distance between them, pressed against him, and breathed into his ear, "Forgive me?"

Mulder's eyes fluttered closed as he allowed himself to drown in the heat of the other man's presence. There really was no way to reconcile Alex with the jumbled mass of persistent memory that made up what he knew as his self. But moments like these... He smiled wickedly at the thought of certain other household appliances and surrendered to the younger man's embrace.

"Anything, Alex. Anything."

THE END