WICKED GAME
By Mare
Chapter 2
Disclaimers in Chapter 1; rated NC-17
Scully’s arm froze in mid-throw. "Deal?" she asked.
"Yeah, deal." Krycek leaned back against the pillow. "You do remember the deal, don’t you?"
The evening’s dinner flashed into her memory. He’d held the prospect of some sort of deal over 
her head the whole night, to the point where she was starting to doubt there ever was any deal. 
Was there really? She carefully placed her chosen projectile back on the dresser and took a deep 
breath. "What deal?"
He looked her over speculatively. "Are you sure you’re ready for this? I don’t think you are."
She slammed her fist on the chair arm. "Dammit, Krycek, cut the crap and tell me! What deal?"
"Okay, okay, keep your shirt on." He swept his gaze over her body with a wicked grin. "Or off, if 
you prefer..."
Scully picked up her weapon again. "I’m warning you, Krycek --"
"First names, remember, Dana?"
Fuming, she just glared at him.
He laughed. "Okay, if you insist. Now, where to begin...?"
"That’s it; I’ve had it. I’m calling Mulder." She skirted the edge of the room, staying as far away 
from the bed as possible, and snatched up the phone’s handset. She soon realized what the smirk 
on Krycek’s face was for, as she listened to the deafening silence on the phone. It was still 
disconnected. Damn you! she thought, slamming down the phone and retreating to her chair.
He waited until she was settled again before fixing those deep green eyes on hers. "Ready to hear 
it now?" he asked.
"I’ve been ready! Would you just tell me?"
"Okay, the deal." Krycek shifted position a bit and leaned back against the pillow. "First, I know 
things. Things you and Mulder have been trying to figure out for years."
"Do you?" Scully sneered.
"You’ll have to trust me on that, Dana," he said with a small smile.
She gave a resigned sigh. "Okay, what do you know?"
The smile grew wider. "Everything. Everything you and Mulder ever dreamed of knowing, and 
more. And..." He paused for dramatic effect. "It’s all yours for the asking."
She just stared at him for a full minute, deciding whether or not she dared ask the question she 
knew he wanted her to ask. What do I have to do for that information? she asked herself. And 
why wouldn’t he tell me about the deal before? What does he have in that twisted mind of his? 
Finally, almost dreading the answer, she asked, "So what do you want from me?"
Krycek grinned at her now, and she suddenly understood what mice must feel like when they see 
the predatory cat coiling to pounce. "I want you to have sex with me," he said.
Again she felt a twinge between her legs, more insistent this time, but she managed to bury the 
feeling. "Now I know you’re insane!" she cried. "Why the hell would I make a deal like that? It’s 
not enough that you rape me --"
"I didn’t rape you."
"You think I wanted that?" She stared at him in shocked amazement.
"I think you needed it. Very badly."
With a cry of fury, she sent her makeup organizer flying toward his head. He watched it hit the 
wall, sending cosmetics showering all over the bed, then picked up the lipstick that landed on the 
pillow next to him. "Sorry, not my color," he deadpanned.
"Pig!" she snarled.
"So you’re saying you didn’t need it?" Krycek mused. "Then you must’ve wanted it very badly."
Scully breathed deeply, trying both to get her fury under control and to keep her body from 
reacting to the flashes of very recent memory that kept assaulting her brain. "I never consented," 
she said through clenched teeth.
He shrugged. "Rationalize it any way you want if it makes you feel better. But I think any doctor 
would have a damn hard time finding physical evidence of anything other than consensual sex. 
And from where I sit, initiating the first kiss, not saying anything that even remotely resembled 
‘no,’ responding so readily, and all those orgasms -- and they were really good ones, weren’t 
they? -- add up to you being a very willing participant."
When he lays it out like that... NO! STOP thinking like that! "Too much wine," she offered. 
"Diminished capacity. I did not want that."
Krycek mulled this over for a moment. "Possible," he admitted. "But don’t they say that alcohol 
depresses sexual response...?"
The warmth in her lower body suggested that there was nothing at all depressed about her sexual 
response. But... what was that he said about how easy it was to make someone come? Didn’t 
mean a thing. Not a single thing. She sighed heavily. "Nothing I say is going to make a bit of 
difference to you, is it?"
He favored her with that killer grin and gave a small "oh-well" shrug. "Not one iota."
A sense of doom settled over her at this. Nothing she said mattered. Nothing she did mattered. 
Even if she called the cops or her partner, Krycek wouldn’t be prosecuted for what he’d done. 
He’d find some way to twist around what happened to ensure that. Besides, like he said, there 
probably wouldn’t be any physical evidence. Sure, she was a little sore, but she suspected that he 
hadn’t left any bruises. Nothing to pin this -- or any other crime, really -- on him. She was 
trapped.
It isn’t the lack of physical evidence that’s keeping you from calling somebody or blowing his head 
off, is it? that little rebellious part of her mind asked.
Immediately squashing that thought, Scully looked up at the man in her bed... and noticed 
something odd. She thought back. Had he used his left hand since he’d been in her apartment? 
Not much during dinner, but that didn’t mean anything; maybe only that he was right-handed. 
Later? She remembered both his hands on her body while they were dancing, but one much more 
than the other. Which one, the right? She wasn’t sure. And she was pretty sure he’d done all 
those (wonderful, right? just incredible) things to her with only the one hand...
Willing the unwelcome arousal away, she watched her similarly unwelcome guest for another 
moment through narrowed eyes. Yes, there was definitely something strange about that left 
arm... "What’s wrong with your arm?" she heard herself ask, even as she asked herself why she 
cared.
His grin vanished at her words and darkness clouded his green eyes. "Nothing!" he snapped.
Oh, yes, she’d touched a nerve. Curious now, she leaned forward a little, trying to figure out just 
what about his left arm seemed... off. "Nothing?" she asked. "Bothers you an awful lot for 
nothing."
He stared back at her for a few moments, his eyes dark and unreadable, before apparently 
reaching a decision. "Okay, fine," he snarled. "You want to see it? Fine." He pressed at a spot 
near his shoulder, and the next thing Scully knew, his left arm, detached from the shoulder, was 
lying on the bed next to him. "That’s what’s wrong with it, okay?"
She gasped as a tale Mulder had told her came rushing back to her; a tale of tests and a gulag in 
the former Soviet Union. Her partner’s words were burned into her memory: no arm, no test. 
"Russia?" she breathed.
Krycek stared defensively at her for another long moment. "Yeah, Russia," he said, bitterness 
clearly evident in his voice. "A little souvenir from your partner."
"It wasn’t Mulder’s fault."
"Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway," he mumbled, with a look that told her it still mattered very 
much.
Curiosity and her Hippocratic oath temporarily overriding her anger, Scully found herself 
approaching the bed. "Can I look at it?" she asked, tentatively reaching toward his shoulder.
His eyes met hers again, then he turned his head away, giving her license to look at whatever she 
wanted.
Giving a low whistle, she bent to examine the arm and the exposed stump. The arm lying on the 
bed was a prosthetic like she’d never seen before. Except for the fact that it wasn’t attached to a 
body, it looked completely, totally lifelike, right down to the hair on the very natural-looking 
skin. The limb even felt warm; not quite body-temperature, but she suspected it would be when 
properly attached. She now remembered that hand stroking her breast, circling her nipple, teasing 
it...
Scully shook the memory out of her head and concentrated on the prosthetic again. Obviously it 
gave him the ability to move the fingers independently of each other; if it hadn’t, she would’ve 
noticed much sooner that the hand wasn’t real. Still... she’d felt it on her body. How could she 
not tell that it wasn’t real? No prosthetic made anywhere on earth -- at least to her knowledge -- 
offered its owner that type of freedom. Who had built this thing? And how?
She carefully picked the arm up, finding that it weighed just about the same as a natural limb 
would. Krycek obviously felt the weight difference now that it was detached -- he was leaning 
heavily on his right arm to support himself and stay upright. Scully turned her attention back to 
the arm. It even felt natural, right down to the texture of the skin. The only things unnatural 
about it were the short metal rods sticking out from the center of it, which had to be what 
connected it to the shoulder.
Putting the arm down, she bent to examine his shoulder. The amputation had been a messy one, 
but it was obvious that he had had further surgery other than what was needed to attach the 
prosthetic. And surgery had definitely been necessary to attach the thing. There was now a round 
metal plate embedded in what remained of his shoulder, with wells to accommodate the rods in 
the arm. She started to run her finger gently around the edge of the plate, but stopped when 
Krycek gasped harshly and flinched away from her touch. He’d let her look, but didn’t want her 
to touch. "Where in the world did this thing come from?" she asked, backing off a bit.
He cast a sidelong glance at her, but wouldn’t face her. "Russian technology in some areas isn’t 
quite as backward as the rest of the world thinks," he said at length.
An appropriate non-answer. "So how does it work?"
Now he turned toward her and studied her face, assessing her interest. For a moment she thought 
he wasn’t going to tell her anything at all, but then he hefted the prosthetic in his right hand and 
slowly started to speak. "There’s sensors in the plate that tap into electrical impulses in the 
muscles and nerve endings that’re left. These rods here plug in like this..." He fitted the arm to 
his shoulder and pushed a little, and Scully saw him wince and bite his lip as she heard the rods 
click into place. "...and the computer chips in ‘em pick up the information from the sensors and 
use it to work the artificial nerves and muscles down here." He lifted a flap of synthetic skin 
from where it lay folded against the prosthetic, and smoothed it around the connection site. 
"Watertight seal, and there you go." He flexed the artificial hand. "Nobody’d ever know."
"Amazing." Without thinking, Scully ran her finger gently down his forearm, and immediately 
noticed two things. First, the limb was warm now, brought up to body temperature now that it 
was attached. Second...
Almost as soon as she touched him, Krycek jerked his arm away from her. The implication wasn’t 
lost on Scully. "You felt that?" she asked in disbelief.
Again he studied her before answering. "I can feel almost everything with this thing," he finally 
offered. "Dexterity with the hand’s pretty good too. Not perfect, but damn close."
Scully’s mind whirled. How could something like this exist? The technology just wasn’t 
possible... "How --" she began.
"I told you," he interrupted. "Advanced technology." The look in his eyes almost dared her to ask 
another question, but she decided that it was probably wiser not to.
She decided to go a different route instead. "Does it hurt much?" There was obviously some 
pain; his reaction both when she touched the stump and when he reattached the prosthetic made 
that pretty clear.
Now his eyes turned hard. "Not much," he said, bitterness clearly evident in his voice. "It’s only 
excruciating."
The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice brought reason back to her mind. He was bitter? 
After what he’d done? "Good! You deserve it!" she spat, then retreated to her chair.
He sighed heavily. "Can we get back to the deal now, please?"
"Why? The answer’s no."
"You didn’t even hear the terms yet." 
"I’ve heard enough. No."
Krycek took a deep breath. "Dana, how many men have shared this bed with you over the last 
five years?"
She felt her earlier fury start to build again. "That’s none of your business!"
"Just as I thought. Three... or less."
Pig, she thought.
"On the other hand... you were much too responsive. Two... or less. Probably less."
Scully could only stare at him, quietly seething.
"Are you sure you want to throw my offer away? I mean, nobody else seems to be offering --"
"Give me one good reason not to blow your head off right now," she interrupted, desperate to 
get off that subject.
Now he grinned at her. "I’ll give you two. One, your gun’s out in the other room, and I bet I 
could beat you out there. I think you know it too. Two, if I die, Mulder’s answers die with me. Is 
avenging your honor worth losing that?"
She looked down at her hands, now folded in her lap. Was it really fair to Mulder to just reject 
this deal without even hearing the specifics? It wouldn’t be... if Krycek’s information panned 
out.
"He’d never forgive you," Krycek went on.
Damn him for holding that over her head! He was right, though. If Mulder knew she threw away 
the opportunity to find answers without even listening to the whole thing, he’d be very upset. 
And they knew that Krycek had answers. But... would he let her do what Krycek wanted her to 
do? No. Absolutely not. No matter how good it felt...
No! Stop! Doesn’t matter how good it felt; it was rape, it was wrong, I don’t want to do it again, I 
really really really don’t... Despite the thoughts, she had to squeeze her legs together against the 
twinge she felt deep inside. "Talk," she whispered.
Though she was still looking down at her hands, she could hear the smile in his voice. "Okay, 
here’s the deal. Every time we have sex, you get some piece of information. It might be from that 
digital tape Mulder’s still looking for, or from my own experience, or whatever. Wherever it’s 
from, whatever it is, it’ll be a small part of the larger puzzle --"
"And just how many pieces are there to this puzzle?" Scully asked, almost against her better 
judgment.
"As many as I... or you... want there to be. Could be thousands. Now, you could feed the 
information to Mulder as you get each piece, or you can wait and collect a couple before giving 
them to him. Doesn’t matter. If I know Mulder, he’ll act on what he hears whether it makes sense 
or not, so use your best judgment. I should probably tell you up front that exceptional 
performance on your end will yield more and/or better information for Ol’ Spooky. He --"
"Wait a second," Scully interrupted. "Not only are you making me sleep with you, you’re grading 
my performance too?" How sick is this going to get?
Krycek flashed that killer grin at her. "I’m not making you do anything, Dana," he said smoothly. 
"It’s your choice. Completely up to you. You might want to know that tonight’s performance 
would’ve gotten you bonus points. Quite a few, actually."
For what? I didn’t do anything. I wonder if putting up more of a fight would’ve earned bonus 
points too? "So I’m supposed to just sit here and wait until you decide you need sex, and then I 
get information?" she asked. "Why not just rape me again? You didn’t need consent before; why 
do you need it now?"
He gave an exaggerated sigh. "Dana, Dana, Dana. You didn’t say no. I didn’t rape you. And 
frankly, I’d rather not --"
"You didn’t have a problem with it before!"
"I didn’t rape you," he continued as if he hadn’t heard her, "and I won’t in the future. If you’d 
just listen to the rest of the terms, you’ll see that."
"You mean there’s more?" Now what?
"Not more, more like... a clarification," he said. "You have it all backwards. This isn’t based on 
when I want sex. I told you, it’s all your choice; completely up to you."
"So what does that mean?" Despite her resistance to the whole idea, a small part of her couldn’t 
wait to see what else he came up with.
"That means that I won’t say another word about it. You see, I need to know that you really 
want the information. You will tell me when you want sex. You have to initiate. Each time you 
do, you’ll get information. I won’t touch you unless you tell me to. You can make this deal take 
as much or as little time as you want. You control how much information you get, when, and 
how often. You can even control how each encounter goes if you want -- creativity is always a 
plus. If you don’t want, I’m more than happy to do it... and I think you might like having the 
benefit of my experience..."
Scully could only stare at him in amazement as he spoke; thoughts swirling through her mind at 
about 500 mph. "You sick, sadistic bastard!" she cried. "How can you even think... I could 
never... you expect me to... I can’t, I won’t! No! Just... just... no!"
Krycek waited until her confused ramblings stopped. "Are you sure, Dana?" he asked. "Sure you 
don’t want to know everything? Sure you want to withhold your partner’s sister from him?" His 
voice became low and seductive now, like it had been while they were dancing, and his intense 
gaze locked on hers. "Sure you don’t want to have sex like that anymore? Sure you don’t need 
it? C’mon, admit it. Better than eating bees, wasn’t it? How good did that feel, anyway? 
Must’ve felt awfully good for you to come three times like that--"
"Stop!" Scully closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm herself and slow her 
breathing, while trying to beat back the memories and her body’s reaction to his words. Damn 
him for knowing what buttons to push! she thought. Samantha, Samantha... he knows where 
Samantha is. Doesn’t he? Does he? Will anything he says even be true? He’s given us nothing but 
lies till now, why should this be different? What if it is different? How will we know? Can I ever... 
Oh, God, can I really do that? I can’t, I know I can’t...
"I don’t know if I --" she began softly.
"You can do it," Krycek told her. "It’s not really that hard, is it? You did fine before..."
She could only sit there trembling.
"After all, everybody has somebody who drives them so wild they’d do just about anything," he 
continued.
Breathing faster, she lifted her eyes to his. "The fact that you could do that to me makes my skin 
crawl."
He laughed softly. "What did I tell you about how easy it is to make someone come?"
"You really are insane."
"Thank you. Now will you please answer the question?"
"What question?"
"Deal. Yes or no?"
She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. "I... I need more information."
He sat up straighter, interested now. "What do you need to know?"
"If I say..." She found it incredibly hard to get the words out. She found it even harder to believe 
that she was actually considering this. "If I say yes, will you at least use condoms?"
"No."
She looked up, incredulous. In this day and age, how could anybody refuse to? "Not even for 
your own protection?"
He fixed an amused gaze on her. "Dana. Do I really have to?"
She lowered her eyes, feeling her cheeks redden.
"Didn’t think so," he said with a chuckle. "My deal, my rules. Don’t like ‘em, never did, so no, 
I’m not going to use them. Next?"
"We can’t even talk about --"
"Non-negotiable. Next?"
My choice, huh? Completely up to me, huh? None of this is my choice. My only choice is... "What 
happens if I say no?" she heard herself ask.
His only response was a shrug.
"Will you kill me?"
"No."
"Kill Mulder?"
"No."
Scully inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. If he wasn’t going to kill her or her partner, how bad 
could it be? But... could she take the chance that he really had no plans to kill them?
Krycek’s voice, his tone speculative, cut through her thoughts. "Did you ever wonder where the 
expression ‘fate worse than death’ came from?"
She gaped at him in horror. "You wouldn’t!"
He shrugged. "Never said I would, did I? But... I also never said I wouldn’t..."
"Dammit, stop being so cryptic!" she shouted. "Just answer the question! What happens if I say 
no?"
Krycek met her gaze for a long moment, and this time she didn’t back down. "Don’t think about 
what might or might not happen if you say no," he finally said. "Let the deal stand on its own 
merits. Which would you rather have? All the answers you could ever possibly want and lots 
more of those 3-orgasm sexual encounters? Or... more endless years of the same lonely life and 
unanswered questions you’ve had for the last five years?"
Scully continued to glare at him; her mind desperately wanting to say no, her body suggesting a 
different answer. If she said no, there would be consequences. She was sure of that. Alex Krycek 
was not the type of person who could set up an elaborate deal like this and then just blow out of 
town if it was refused. No, he had something up his sleeve. What was it? Whatever it was, she 
was sure it would be bad for her, Mulder, or both. My choice? she asked herself. I have no choice 
here. He didn’t leave me one. "You really won’t touch me unless I say you can?"
"That’s right."
"What assurance do I have of that?"
He favored her with a warm smile. "Just my word. You’re going to have to trust me, aren’t you?"
Again she just glared at him.
Krycek sighed heavily. "Look at it this way, Dana. I have alternatives; you don’t. I can go just 
about anywhere for sex. You can’t go anywhere else for this information. Who has to trust who 
here?"
"If you can go just about anywhere for sex, why here? Why me?"
He shrugged and grinned at her. "I like you. So... do we have a deal?"
You hate me. You hate Mulder, and you’re getting back at him through me. By blackmailing, 
humiliating, and degrading me. You hate me. "How do I know that this information of yours is 
any good?"
"Guess you’re going to have to trust me on that too. Do we have a deal?"
Scully desperately wanted to say no, but again her brain was assaulted by memories of what had 
happened. Memories of how it felt to have someone pay attention to her, to do things to her that 
she hadn’t experienced in so long... Her body reacted strongly to the memories and she felt a 
sudden rush of warmth in her lower body. No, no, stop, I don’t need it, I don’t want it --
"Remember what happened before, Dana." The low, seductive voice caressed her ears even from 
across the room, and she remembered. "Remember how good it felt. If I only wanted to satisfy 
myself, it would’ve gone a lot differently, but that wasn’t how it happened. I focused on your 
pleasure. It can be that way from now on, Dana. Every time. You want that, don’t you? You 
want what I’m offering... you need it..."
A soft moan escaped her lips as the memories swept through her brain and the ache between her 
legs intensified. "Yes..." she whispered.
"You want it? We have a deal?"
"Yes..." she sighed, caught up in her memories and the feelings in her own body. "Oh, yes..."
"Good. We have a deal. Don’t suppose you’d like to shake on it?"
Krycek’s words and the change in his tone made her eyes snap open and all other thought fled 
from her mind. Oh, God, I said yes, didn’t I? I didn’t want to, didn’t mean to... This is not 
happening, this is not happening...
"You’re not reconsidering, are you?"
She looked up at him, and the sudden, vivid memory of his thickness sliding deeply into her sent 
a jolt through her body. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, but couldn’t find anything 
to say. Doesn’t matter anyway, does it? she asked herself. He tricked me into saying yes; he’ll 
take that as my final answer no matter what I say now. Maybe I just shouldn’t fight it. Mulder does 
need what he knows... "No, I’m not reconsidering," she said quietly, not believing that was her 
own voice saying the words. "We have a deal."
"Good. Turn out the light when you’re done, will you?" Krycek slid down under the covers and 
turned over.
Scully could only stare at him. "You’re staying here?" she asked in disbelief.
He opened his eyes. "Of course I’m staying here. If I were somewhere else, this deal would never 
get off the ground. Who knows? Maybe proximity might help you warm up to the idea."
Her mind whirled. She’d just agreed to be his sex slave, and now he expected her to let him stay 
in her apartment? Again she had no choice; she just knew he wasn’t going to leave, no matter 
what. Still... Can’t he at least allow me some privacy right now to adjust to the idea of the deal? 
He doesn’t expect to be with me every minute, does he? Some lines have to be drawn. Right now... 
"Get out of my bed."
Krycek turned over to face her. "What, after all we shared?"
"Get out! I’m not sleeping on the sofa in my own home and I’m not sleeping with you!"
"Didn’t you already?"
"GET OUT!"
"No."
That one word was all it took. She knew he wouldn’t move, just as she knew he wouldn’t leave 
her apartment. Her anger melted away and all she was left with was deep fatigue. She’d had a 
long day, she was tired, and she didn’t feel up to fighting anymore.
"Tell you what," Krycek said. "I’ll take the wet spot."
Scully stared at him for a long moment, then gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Just fine. But if 
you so much as breathe on me tonight, you will die. Clear?"
"As crystal," he said, watching her slide under the covers, as far away from him as possible.
She snapped off the light and settled down to sleep. A moment later she heard his soft voice in 
the dark. "You don’t snore, do you?"
Die, bastard. Just die and leave me alone. "No, and if you do, I’ll shoot you."
A soft laugh. "This could turn out to be even more fun than I thought."
*************************
The first thing that registered in Alex Krycek’s consciousness the next morning was the 
earthquake. Series of earthquakes, really, each lasting only a second or two. He sat up like a shot, 
instantly on alert, quickly analyzing the unfamiliar surroundings... until he remembered where he 
was. His gaze settled on one very pissed off redhead, standing at the foot of the bed and kicking 
the mattress. "Morning," he purred.
"Get up," Scully snarled at him.
Krycek stretched slowly, working some of the post-sleep lethargy out of his muscles. He couldn’t 
remember the last time he’d felt this good. Last night had gone exactly the way he’d envisioned 
it: perfectly executed plan, great sex... and acceptance of his deal. What more could a guy want? 
He was even a little surprised at how easy it had been. Hardly a challenge for his considerable 
seduction skills. Although the night had been meticulously planned, he’d been prepared for much 
more of a fight. The little redhead must’ve been really starved for it to have reacted the way she 
did, which took a little of the fun out of it, but she’d more than made up for it later. Encounters 
with the inexperienced didn’t often make for mind-blowing sex, but the trade-off was that they 
tended to provide a considerable ego boost. He wondered idly how long it would take until the 
words "best sex I ever had" crossed her lips.
Yeah, for a change, life was good. And playing with Dana Scully’s head for however long this 
deal took could only make it better. He stretched again before flopping back against the pillows. 
"Been a long time since I crashed in a place this nice," he sighed. "I’m sleeping in."
"I said, get up!" she demanded.
He settled in more comfortably and laughed softly. "Make me."
Scully turned away with a frustrated sound and started searching the room for her shoes as 
Krycek slipped further under the covers and nestled down into the pillows. Another interesting 
fact to file away about Dana Scully: she had a thing for pillows. There had to be six or eight of 
the things bunched at the top of the king-size bed. He chuckled to himself as a number of uses 
for all those pillows floated through his head.
He wasn’t even aware that he’d fallen asleep again until he felt another mattress-quake. "What 
now?" he moaned, slowly rolling over onto his back.
"Get up."
"I already told you I’m sleeping in," he sighed, closing his eyes again and wishing she’d just go 
away. Sleep was something he hadn’t had a whole lot of in recent weeks, and the last thing he 
needed was for her to keep waking him up. "Aren’t you late or something? Go to work. Time to 
go out and save the world from people like me." Shooing her off to work seemed safe, since he 
was reasonably sure she wouldn’t tell Mulder what had happened. She had obviously enjoyed 
the sex. On some level she’d realize that, and that she’d consented, and it would keep her from 
telling her partner.
"First I need to save myself from people like you," she said, approaching the bed. "Give me your 
arm."
Anything to make her shut up and leave him in peace. He obediently offered his left one, but she 
slapped it away. "The real one," she said impatiently.
Krycek sighed heavily and sat up halfway, watching her set out equipment necessary for drawing 
blood. "You actually listened to me last night, huh? I’m impressed."
"Believe me, I would’ve done this with or without your permission. Make a fist, please?" She 
probed his inner elbow in search of a vein, then swabbed the area and sank the needle into the 
vein she’d found. He was unable to stifle a small hiss of pain, and didn’t miss her small, gratified 
smile. Might as well let her have her petty little thrills for now. She’d learn soon enough. "This 
deal goes nowhere unless these tests come back clean," she said. "All of them. That’s also non-
negotiable."
"Fair enough." He watched with growing discomfort as she filled first one tube, then another, 
then switched to a third empty one. "Jesus, how much do you need? What are you, a vampire?"
She offered a tight smile. "I’m doing a lot of tests. I need a lot of blood. Do you have a problem 
with that?"
Yeah, I do. You’ll claim to find evidence of some disease you made up to try to get out of the deal... 
He glared at her but said nothing.
Scully stopped once the third tube was filled, and Krycek quickly burrowed back under the 
covers as she packed up her equipment. Her voice interruped him again before he could get really 
comfortable. "You’re not done yet, buster."
"Jesus, now what?" He turned over again and opened his eyes to find the little redhead holding a 
covered specimen cup out to him. He groaned audibly. "Oh, for --"
"No tests, no deal," she said firmly. "Do it."
"I agreed to blood tests, not that."
"Sorry, but blood tests just don’t tell the whole story." Her face was the picture of innocence, but 
he just knew she was grinning like the Cheshire cat inside. "If you want your precious deal, do 
it."
Suka, he thought, glaring at her.
"That’s what you get for not wearing a condom," she continued, a wicked gleam coming into her 
eyes.
"Fine," he snarled, snatching the cup out of her hand. "Just fine. If I do this, will you leave me 
alone?" He slid out of bed and sauntered toward the bathroom, fully aware that he was still 
naked and that his nakedness had an effect on the redhead. It wasn’t until after he closed the 
bathroom door that he heard her voice again.
"Leave you alone? In my own home? If you want to sleep, you go somewhere else."
"Bitch," he muttered to himself. If this was how she was going to be, it was almost enough to 
make him re-think the deal. Almost, but not quite. He had control over practically every aspect of 
the deal, which had to bother her. If making him pee into a cup made her feel (albeit falsely) like 
she had some sort of control, then so be it. Letting her feel like she was putting one over on him 
would make her easier to control in the long run.
He left the covered cup on the bathroom counter and was just sliding back under the covers 
when Scully came back into the bedroom with a Ziploc bag. "Any other bodily fluids you want 
samples of?" he asked. "Better tell me now."
She sealed the cup in the bag and stowed it away with the vials of blood. "No, I think this will 
do."
"You sure? There’s one you can help with. C’mon, it’ll be fun..."
He saw the slight shudder that ran through her and laughed. "No, thank you," she said quietly. 
"This is fine."
"Good." Krycek burrowed deeper under the covers. "You’d better get going. Spooky’ll be mad if 
you’re late." Though his eyes were closed, he could feel her staring at him, willing him to get up. 
Smiling to himself, he settled in more comfortably. Just let her try to get him to move.
"Fine, sleep now," she told him. "But you’d better get out before tonight. I want you gone by the 
time I get back."
He laughed softly. "What are you going to do, shoot me?"
He felt the weight of her stare for a moment longer before she left with a frustrated sigh.
*************************
Scully stood outside the basement office, contemplating the door, for a full five minutes. Special 
Agent Fox Mulder, the lone nameplate read. Where’s mine? she found herself thinking, not for 
the first time. Where’s the nameplate that tells the world that Special Agent Dana Scully exists? 
He could’ve at least gotten me a nameplate. Aren’t we equals? We must be; I finally have a desk. 
Of course, I had to ask for it. And he still thinks that was just about a desk...
She wasn’t ready to face anyone yet, least of all her partner. She’d slept only fitfully, awakened 
every so often by bizarre dreams. The one she remembered most clearly saw her having wild, 
passionate sex with Alex Krycek on her sister’s grave as an angry mob closed in around them. 
She soon realized that the mob was made up of her family and friends; Mulder, demanding to 
know where his sister was, leading her sobbing mother. She screamed in ecstasy just as Krycek 
pushed over the headstone so all could see both Samantha Mulder’s and Melissa Scully’s names 
on it, while her father stood off to the side, shaking his head sadly.
Scully didn’t need any Freudian analyst to tell her what that dream meant. It was the look on her 
father’s face that summed the whole thing up for her. He’d be so disappointed if he knew what 
she’d done last night. Everyone she knew would. How could she ever face her family again? Or 
her partner? Well, she had to face him, but it wouldn’t be easy.
She had awakened with a splitting headache, courtesy of all the wine she’d had the night before, 
and a strong resolve to tell Mulder what had happened. Her resolve was starting to weaken, 
though, now that she realized that he’d have questions. He’d ask her about her hangover. He’d 
want to know why she hadn’t called him last night. And he’d want to know why she let her 
rapist sleep in her bed.
Her eyes returning to the single nameplate on the door, she placed a trembling hand on the door 
knob. "Mulder may have his weak points," she murmured under her breath, "but he’s all I’ve got." 
She took a deep breath and entered the office.
Special Agent Fox Mulder was leaning back in his desk chair, feet up on the desk, engrossed in 
the file on his lap. He didn’t even look up as she closed the door; instead addressing her as he 
flipped through the pages of the file. "Hey, Scully, wanna see something really interesting?"
Scully slipped quietly behind her own desk and turned on her computer, her mind barely 
registering her partner’s words. He seemed to be expecting a reply, but she had no real idea what 
he’d said. "New case, Mulder?" That seemed safe.
"No, I’ve been going through some of the old files and I found out..." His voice trailed off when 
he realized that she hadn’t assumed her usual position next to his desk. Scully watched him 
glance at the clock, hoping that he wouldn’t comment on the fact that it was 9:20, more than a 
half hour later than she usually came in and just plain late, a rarity for her.
He didn’t comment, much to her relief, but his eyes moved from the clock to her face, studying 
her. Finally he said, "You look tired, Scully. Feeling okay?"
That was the only concession he made to her recently diagnosed cancer -- the occasional question 
about how she was feeling. Beyond that, he never mentioned it, and didn’t give her opportunity 
to talk about it if she might want to. At first that had been okay with her -- she was in denial 
herself for a short while. But now, as the reality that she really did have The Big C (and terminal, 
at that) started to seep in, she felt a growing need to talk about it. With Mulder? Not a chance.
Mulder’s voice cut through her thoughts. "Scully?"
She shook her head slightly and focused on her partner. "I’m fine, Mulder. I just... didn’t get 
much sleep last night." Aren’t you going to tell him why? she immediately asked herself.
Mulder’s lips curved into a smirk. "New boyfriend, Scully?"
She looked up sharply. "What?"
"Simple deduction," he went on. "You didn’t sleep much last night, but you say you’re fine. 
Ergo, something else kept you awake. Or someone. Must be a new boyfriend."
She could only stare at him in shock.
"Must’ve been really good, too. You haven’t heard a word I’ve said since you walked in here. 
So... anybody I know?"
It didn’t occur to her until much later that Mulder, uncomfortable as he was with her illness, was 
probably only trying to lighten things up. But in her current frame of mind, the question 
registered as rude and terribly intrusive. "For your information, Mulder," she huffed indignantly, 
"my private life is exactly that. Private. What I do during my off hours and who I do it with is 
none of your business!"
"Sorry, Scully," he said, a little taken aback. "I was just concerned. I mean, the last time you had 
a date, it was with some psycho with a talking tattoo --"
"Are you insinuating that I’m incapable of dating normal men?"
"No, but --"
"I’m not allowed to have a life like other people?"
"I didn’t say --"
"And if you must know, I didn’t have a date last night, nor do I have a new boyfriend, if that 
makes you feel better. But even if I did, and even if my new boyfriend did keep me up all night, 
it’s still none of your business! Is that clear?"
Mulder tapped a pen against the file in his lap and just looked at her. Finally he said, "Guess it 
wasn’t that good after all, huh?"
If she didn’t get away from him, she just knew she was going to hit him. Remembering the 
samples in her bag, she rose from her desk. "If you’re finished analyzing my sex life now, I have 
some work to do. Real work."
She had just touched the doorknob when he asked, "Where will you be, in case I need to find 
you?"
Anywhere but here. "Having a quickie with my new boyfriend in the janitor’s closet. Knock 
before you barge in, okay?" she tossed over her shoulder as she left.
*************************
It wasn’t until she was halfway to the lab that Scully realized that she’d probably taken 
everything Mulder had said completely the wrong way. She knew he wouldn’t talk about the 
cancer, so he’d probably thought of his question as a lighter way to make sure she was feeling all 
right. Still, even if he hadn’t meant it that way, the question struck a nerve. She could still hear 
the sarcasm in his voice during that phone call while she was in Philadelphia: "What, do you have 
a date?" Just because he hadn’t had a date in the five years she’d known him didn’t mean that 
she had to follow his example, did it?
Wait a minute, she told herself. How can what happened with Krycek last night compare to a 
date? That was no date, it was rape. And now I can’t even tell Mulder about it. He’d just make 
some silly remark...
Somewhere deep down, though, she knew Mulder wouldn’t make light of the situation if she 
told him about it. On the other hand... what would Krycek do if she told her partner? He’d be 
arrested, so it wouldn’t matter, would it? But that meant no information. No answers. No 
Samantha. No sex...
She squelched that thought immediately. What Krycek might do did indeed matter. He’d be out 
of jail before she had the chance to throw his stuff out of her apartment, because physical 
evidence would back up his story. Without that on her side, it was her word against his, and 
although she knew her colleagues would believe her, she couldn’t count on a jury doing the same. 
Krycek was smooth, charming, and an extremely convincing liar. He’d have a jury eating out of 
his hand. And once he was acquitted, he’d come after her for sure.
Why risk that? Better to keep last night’s activities to herself and go through with the deal. 
Better to get what she could from him while he was offering. Better to stay on Krycek’s good 
side and insure that the sex came on her terms, not his...
She shook those thoughts out of her head and pushed open the door to the lab, startling the lab’s 
lone occupant. Agent Pendrell looked up at her with big, round eyes for a moment before a huge 
grin spread across his face, making him look all of about twelve years old. "Agent Scully! What 
brings you down here?"
Scully smiled to herself, glad that he was the one on duty today. She couldn’t help but think of 
Pendrell as everybody’s goofy kid brother, and it was impossible not to like him. Besides that, he 
did top-notch work, more often than not going above and beyond what was asked. He was the 
perfect person to help her out with the list of blood tests she wanted to perform. "Morning, 
Agent Pendrell," she returned. "Are you busy?"
He immediately slammed shut the two file folders he had open in front of him and pushed the 
microscope away. "Not at all. What can I do for you?"
"If you’re busy I can come back --"
"No!" Pendrell jumped up, as if to block her exit, then smiled sheepishly when she stopped and 
looked at him in surprise. "Really, I’m not busy," he assured her. "Is there something I can help 
you with?"
Why couldn’t the rest of the men in her life be so agreeable? "Well... yes," she said slowly, only 
then realizing that she hadn’t formulated any sort of cover story. "There’s some blood tests I 
need to perform, and I was wondering if you could help me."
"Sure! Just tell me what you want me to do."
After dealing with pigheaded creatures like Krycek and Mulder, Pendrell was definitely a breath 
of fresh air. Scully handed him a vial of blood and a list of the tests she felt it safe to have him 
take care of. "When do you think these can be ready?"
Pendrell looked over his list thoughtfully. "Is tomorrow afternoon okay?"
"Perfect." The results of the tests she would do herself -- the ones she couldn’t possibly explain 
to Pendrell -- would be ready by then, too. "Could you deliver the results directly to me?" she 
asked. "It would be better if you didn’t leave them on my desk or give them to Agent Mulder..." 
Her voice trailed off. Nitwit. Now he’s going to ask why...
Pendrell was already getting his equipment ready. "So this isn’t for a case?" he asked casually.
Think, Dana, think... "Well... It relates to an old case... sort of..." she said slowly. "But it’s really 
more of a... personal favor." She paused for a moment, then, in a small voice, "Do you mind?"
"Of course not. I’ll get the report right into your hands before you leave here tomorrow, okay?"
She heaved an inward sigh of relief. "Thank you, Agent Pendrell. I really appreciate this."
"My pleasure, Agent Scully." He practically beamed at her.
They both settled quietly down to work, and when she heard the lab door open, Scully looked at 
her watch and was surprised to find that more than two hours had passed. She didn’t even have 
to turn around to know who the visitor was.
"There you are," Mulder said from the doorway.
She sighed heavily. "Yes, Mulder, here I am."
"Y’know, I even knocked at the door of the janitor’s closet before I went in, but you weren’t 
there."
No kidding. "I’ve been here. Working, like I told you."
"Want to grab some lunch?"
Scully sighed again. "No, Mulder, I’m busy."
He came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. "Checking up on the new boyfriend?"
She whirled around to face him. "Excuse me?" She barely noticed that Pendrell’s head came up 
at the question, too.
"Smart move, Scully," Mulder went on, looking over the papers she had spread out next to the 
microscope. "Why trust what he says when you can find out for yourself, right?" He leaned in 
conspiratorially. "Of course, you being a doctor and all... you were careful, weren’t you?"
"Mulder, that’s enough!"
To his credit, he actually did shut up.
"There isn’t any new boyfriend and I’m not ‘checking up’ on anyone," she fumed. "I’m working -
- real work -- which is more than I can say for you this morning. Now, if you don’t mind --"
"Is this related to a case?" Irritating Juvenile Mulder was replaced by Professional Mulder in an 
instant.
"Of course."
"Which one? And how come I don’t know about this?"
Uh-oh. Now how was she supposed to bluff her way out of this? She wasn’t lying, but she 
couldn’t tell him what case it really related to... "Philadelphia," she said quickly. "I, um..." Her 
voice trailed off as she studied Mulder’s reaction. He was slightly taken aback, but he let her 
continue. Good choice, then. "I wanted to do further study on the blood samples. I think there 
might be something the original blood work missed."
"Oh." Mulder took a step back and looked her over, making her decidedly uncomfortable. "Why 
didn’t you just say so?"
"I..." Scully turned slightly and caught Pendrell looking at her, whereupon he immediately 
dropped his eyes back to his microscope. Pendrell would never question what she’d told him, 
would he? He had to know she was lying either to him or to Mulder. She could only pray that he 
wouldn’t blow her cover. "It’s nothing that needs to go into the files," she finally said. "It’s just... 
something I needed to know. It’s... well, it’s sort of personal..."
Her voice trailed off as Mulder leaned forward and studied the top sheet of paper. He tapped 
one line on it. "I thought you said you and Jerse didn’t --"
She zipped the sheet out from under his hand. "We didn’t. Now if you’re finished..."
"If you didn’t," Mulder interrupted, "why are you testing --"
"To the uninitiated," Scully cut in, "the terminology used in blood testing makes a lot of tests 
look similar." She looked her partner straight in the eye. "The tests aren’t always what they look 
like."
Mulder stepped back and again studied her. "My mistake," he said at length. "I’m sorry."
He knows. Just tell him. Go ahead, he’ll believe you... "Mulder, I..."
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
She tried to meet his eyes, but found that she couldn’t. "Have a good lunch," she finally said.
"Guess I’ll see you later, then." He paused with a hand on the doorknob. "You’re not skipping 
meals, are you, Scully? You know you’re not supposed to..."
Now she looked up, surprised at this blatant expression of concern for her health. "No, I’m not."
"Good." Mulder opened the door. "Have a good lunch with the boyfriend, then."
"Dammit, Mulder..." Scully whirled toward the door, but her partner was already gone, and 
Pendrell was looking at her questioningly. "He’s just... joking..." she explained weakly.
"Of course, Agent Scully," he said immediately, but he too took a long look at her before 
returning to his work.
Scully spread her papers out again and bent back to her microscope with but one thought in 
mind. Alex Krycek is a dead man.
End Chapter 2
Russian translation (maybe not necessary now, but later on context won’t help as much): 
Suka - bitch
Chapter 3
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