WICKED GAME
By Mare
Chapter 5
Disclaimers in Chapter 1; Rated NC-17
"What’s this?"
Krycek came out of the kitchen to join Scully by the desk. "Let’s see..." he mused. "A box... 
wrapping paper... bow... I don’t know, Sherlock, but I think they call that a gift."
Scully sighed heavily. The day that man gave a straight answer about anything would be the day 
the sky fell in. At least they’d managed to make it through dinner in a somewhat civil manner 
this time before the head games started. He hadn’t mentioned the previous night, or even asked 
her what happened with the disk. Just when she thought she was actually going to make it 
through the evening without having to face what had happened between them, she saw the 
package on the desk. "What’s it doing here?"
"Right now, not much of anything. It’s just kind of sitting there," Krycek said. "But I think I saw 
it mosey into the kitchen for a glass of water earlier this afternoon."
She turned and glared at him, but he just shrugged. "Look, I saw it, thought you might like it, so 
there it is. Does everybody who gives you a gift get the third degree?"
"People who have no business giving me gifts do."
He draped an arm around her shoulders, his touch sending a warm rush through her. Trying to 
keep her focus on the package, she immediately pushed him away. "After last night, you still 
think I have no business giving you gifts?"
She closed her eyes and fought back the memories from the previous night. Not again, she 
vowed. Next time I’ll have more self-control. "None. This is a business arrangement, remember? 
No gifts. Nothing personal."
Krycek shrugged again and sat down on the sofa. "So it’s a business gift. Those do exist, 
y’know."
Scully approached the innocent-looking package, afraid to touch it. "Most business partners send 
each other fruit baskets."
"How do you know there isn’t something just as boring in there?"
She glared at him again. "Because it came from you."
He chuckled. "So glad to know you don’t find me boring. So go ahead; open it."
The more he pushed it at her, the surer she was that she didn’t want to know what was in it. 
"No."
"Why not?"
"I won’t accept it. You might as well return it right now."
"I’m not returning anything. If you want it returned, you have to do it yourself... but I’m not 
telling you where I got it. You have to open it to find that out."
Scully examined the package with a critical eye. Smaller than a shirt box... a lingerie box. He 
wouldn’t give her lingerie, would he? Even he wouldn’t be that crude. "Then I guess you’re out 
some money," she told him. "Because if that’s the case, it’ll sit here unopened forever. And by 
the way, if you have enough money to go around buying gifts, you can certainly contribute to the 
household expenses."
Krycek smiled. "Took you long enough to get around to asking that. Consider it done. Now, 
about that gift?"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Get it out of here. I’m not touching it."
He shook his head, but didn’t get up. "That’s too bad, because, y’know, it really is sort of deal-
related..."
"Deal-related?" Scully put two and two together and came up with... "What is this, some kind of 
sick reward or something?"
"Reward?" Krycek pondered that for a moment. "Rewards are given for performance above and 
beyond the call of duty, and yours last night certainly was. I didn’t mean it that way, but if you 
want to think of it like that, go right ahead."
She stared at him in disbelief. "You sick son of a bitch! How could you --"
"Hey, you’re the one who called it a reward, not me," he broke in calmly. "I bought it only 
because I thought you might like it. No other reason, no ulterior motive. Open it, don’t open it; 
do whatever you want. But if you want to return it, you have to open it."
"Okay, fine," she snarled, snatching up the package. "You better have the receipt, pal, or this 
might end up someplace it probably wasn’t intended to go." She tore the paper away and yanked 
the cover off the box to reveal exactly what she was afraid would be in the package: lingerie.
But, true to the giver’s form, it wasn’t just any lingerie. It was a matching bra and panty (the 
correct size, of course) of ice-blue silk and ivory lace; not purely functional, but still tasteful. It 
was the kind of thing she had once considered splurging on when she was dating Jack Willis. The 
brand name on the tags jumped right out at her. La Perla lingerie was expensive stuff, and the 
fact that it had been purchased at Neiman Marcus made it that much more costly. The same 
things she had felt upon recognizing the video for what it was came over her again, and she 
could only stare at the box in disbelief for what felt like a long time before she was able to form 
words.
"This?" she finally said. "This is deal-related? What do you expect me to do, put this on just so 
you can rip it off me?"
Krycek smirked at her. "Hey, there’s an idea --"
"Pig!"
"Seriously, Dana, I just wanted you to have it. I know you like nice things... silk things... and 
you’d never buy it for yourself, so I did. Much as I’d love to see you in it --"
"Or out of it?" Scully sneered.
"That’d be very nice too," he admitted, "but as much as I’d like to see that, it really doesn’t 
matter to me what you do with that gift. Wear it for me. Wear it for yourself. Return it. Burn it if 
it makes you feel better. If you choose to wear it, you don’t even have to let me see it... although 
it might be worth your while to keep your business partner in the mood for doing business..."
"Since when do you need encouragement?"
He sighed. "Believe it or not, this deal isn’t a no-brainer for me, either. You think I like getting 
kicked in the head every time I try to do something nice for you?"
Of course you do. It’s all part of your little head game, isn’t it? "If you really wanted to do 
something nice for me, you’d get the hell out of my life!"
"That’s not an option at this point. Besides, are you sure you want that?" Krycek’s voice 
remained infuriatingly calm.
At that moment, Scully wished she’d never heard the name Alex Krycek, great sex or not. She 
couldn’t answer that question, but another one sprang up in its place. "What were you doing 
wandering around in daylight, anyway?"
He shrugged. "Cabin fever, I guess."
"Cabin fever," she repeated. "So you go wandering around Neiman Marcus in broad daylight, 
while half the world is trying to arrest you or kill you. Don’t you even care?"
"Of course I care," he said patiently. "My daytime travels are a calculated risk, true, but it’s just 
that. Calculated. The old men all think I’m in Russia and/or dead. I think I’m pretty safe."
"And if someone from the Bureau happens to spot you?"
"Think about it, Dana. If you were tracking me, would you look for me in Neiman Marcus? 
Besides, if I were the assistant director, I’d have serious questions about agents being in 
department stores in the middle of the afternoon..."
"That’s beside the point!" Scully snapped. "A deal’s a deal, Alex. You can’t just go running 
around with no regard for your personal safety. You promised me answers. I’m holding up my 
end of the bargain. The least you could do is hold up yours. You can’t give me answers if you’re 
dead."
"Such concern," he sighed. "And you think this is just a business relationship..."
"It is, which means it doesn’t include gifts." She dropped the box back on the desk and held out 
her hand. "Receipt. Now."
Krycek fixed his eyes on hers. "I paid cash. Tossed the receipt."
"Cash."
"Yeah, you know, the green stuff?"
"The things in that box had to cost at least two hundred dollars. Where are you getting that kind 
of cash?"
"Over three hundred, actually, but who’s counting?" At her glare, he smiled warmly. "What can I 
say? Treason’s a highly lucrative endeavor."
"I’ll bet." Scully snatched up the box again. "Fine, I’ll return it without the receipt. Maybe I can 
at least get a nice suit out of it."
"Anything to keep the deal running smoothly, right, Dana?" he chuckled softly.
She wanted to smack that infuriating grin off his face, but that was probably exactly what he 
wanted her to do. "If you think I’ll ever wear sexy lingerie for you, you’ve really got another 
think coming!" she snapped, then stalked off toward the bedroom with the box.
"Are you really holding up your end of the deal?"
Krycek’s quiet question froze her in mid-stride. After a second she tossed the box into the 
bedroom, into the corner, and returned to the living room. "What the hell is that supposed to 
mean?" she demanded. "You got what you wanted last night, didn’t you?"
"Mmm... in a way..."
"Maybe if you weren’t such a bastard about it, things might go easier! Ever think about that?"
"It’s all about initiation, Dana," he said softly. "Don’t get me wrong; last night was great. I love it 
when you talk dirty --"
"Sick bastard," she mumbled.
"-- but if you really want to hold up your end of the deal, you’re going to have to be more 
proactive in the future. I have to know that it’s really the deal driving you... not just what you’re 
watching on TV."
Scully could feel her cheeks redden at his words. A thousand truly nasty replies shot through her 
head, but she couldn’t sink to his level. Somebody had to maintain dignity in this whole ungodly 
mess. It wasn’t the time to lash out at him about the video either. He obviously expected it, but 
she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. "Fine," she said, making sure to keep her voice calm and 
level. "Next time I’ll issue an engraved invitation."
"That’s a start, I suppose."
With an exasperated sigh, she strode off toward the bedroom, his soft laughter ringing in her 
ears.
*************************
Dana Scully spent the three days following the Day of Giving (as she had come to think of it) 
trying to quell the war that raged inside her. Conflicting impulses drove her -- the urge to stay as 
far away from Krycek as she could and the urge to pin him to the bed, tear his clothes off, and 
demand that he take her again exactly the way he had on the night she’d discovered the video. 
Sometimes she even sat back and marveled at her predicament. How could Krycek make her feel 
so cheap and still make her want to come crawling back, begging for more?
It was the sex, she told herself. The sex was beyond fabulous. Scully had never thought of 
herself as a woman who could ever be driven solely by sex, but she now found that Krycek’s 
words on his first night with her were true. Apparently everybody, even Dana Katherine Scully, 
did have someone who could make them do just about anything, and seemingly, he was her 
someone. Many, many less than savory things could be said about the man, but one fact was 
undeniable: Alex Krycek was an extraordinarily talented lover. Although "lover" wasn’t exactly 
the word Scully would’ve used to describe what he was to her, no alternative sprang to mind.
While she spent those three days obsessing over what was happening, Krycek behaved like 
nothing at all had happened. He seemed relaxed, much more so than during the week before she 
found the video. During that time she’d sensed an aura of expectation about him, waiting for her 
to make her move.
Not so now. He didn’t send any hints that he wanted sex. He didn’t make any references to the 
deal. He didn’t speak in double entendres. He didn’t ask her if she’d worn his gift. When he did 
the laundry, he had to have noticed that it wasn’t there, but he never said a word. He never 
mentioned the lingerie box still sitting in the corner of the bedroom, unopened and unreturned. 
He seemed satisfied that the deal would progress as he’d intended it to, and appeared to be 
willing to adapt to her timetable.
His behavior was, she thought, almost nauseatingly normal. Every night when she came home he 
asked her about her day, giving her the opportunity to unburden herself if she should want to. To 
her surprise, Scully found herself taking that opportunity one night; venting about cases, 
bureaucracy, or whatever had annoyed her that day. Krycek listened sympathetically, then said 
something that made her laugh hysterically, and the tension of the day was suddenly gone.
The sheer normality of his behavior was what gave her the creeps. He was behaving like a 
roommate or someone else who belonged in her life, and the fact that she knew he didn’t just 
brought back everything she’d felt both when she discovered the first disk in her bag and when 
she unwrapped his gift. The matters of that gift and the video remained unresolved, but Scully 
didn’t feel right about bringing them up as long as things were going reasonably well. Still, she 
could feel those issues hanging over her head, just adding to her discomfort. As a result, the 
desire to stay away from him reigned at home.
At work, all she could think about was the sex. She’d sat through several meetings, briefings, and 
interviews with witnesses and suspects without hearing a word anyone said. Her mind was 
completely occupied by memories, thoughts, and daydreams about having sex with Krycek. 
Mulder, of course, noticed her distraction and teased her unmercifully, but she was too 
preoccupied to respond.
One thing Mulder said did sink in, though. On the third day after she gave him the disk, he 
asked her when she was meeting her informant again. "Find out if he’s got anything we can use," 
he said.
Without thinking, Scully said she was meeting her informant that night. It was only later that she 
realized she’d have to get over that desire to run away from Krycek if she was to further the deal 
and get something useful for her partner.
That really wasn’t a bad thing, though. Thoughts of sex came to her at home, too; just not when 
she was face to face with Krycek. She wanted it, maybe even needed it, but every time she 
looked at him, all she could remember were the words that had finally gotten him moving last 
time. While what had followed was superb, knowing that she’d lost all control and said that, 
acted like that, embarrassed her. If she was going to proposition him again, she had to find a 
better way to do it.
So Scully found herself that night sitting on the sofa with Krycek, inches away from him, 
watching television. Well, he was watching. At least she thought he was. He was leaning on the 
pillows at the end of the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table. She sat curled next to him, 
not touching him... but thinking about him. Thinking about touching him, about him touching her, 
about feeling him inside her...
She became aware of a faint warmth caressing her left side -- his body heat. After three days of 
thinking about sex, obsessing about it, that was all it took. A now familiar heat pooling in her 
pelvic area, she leaned toward the warmth and was soon resting lightly against his right side. 
Krycek glanced briefly at her, but quickly turned his attention back to the television. He 
acknowledged her move by gently ruffling her hair and laying his arm across the back of the 
sofa, behind her.
Scully found herself staring not at the television, but at his feet. She allowed her gaze to drift up 
his jeans-clad legs until it came to rest on his crotch. An idea took shape in her mind. If he wants 
proactive, here’s proactive. They say actions speak louder, she told herself, so she took a deep 
breath and, fixing her eyes on the television, started to gently stroke his crotch.
Krycek sighed softly and arched ever so slightly into her caress. She rubbed a little harder, 
encouraged to feel him growing underneath her hand. He sighed again, laid his head against the 
back of the sofa, and moved slightly, allowing her more room to work. Her gentle massage 
continued until she felt his stiffening organ start to strain against its denim prison. She felt his 
hand start to stroke her neck as she undid both jeans and boxers, freeing the object of her 
attention.
A soft moan escaped him as flesh met flesh and she started to stroke him in earnest. She wrapped 
her hand around his organ and moved it gently from root to crown and back, exploring the 
instrument that had brought her so much pleasure. She hadn’t yet really seen it, hadn’t felt it 
except inside her, and quickly became intrigued with this voyage of discovery. Intrigued and 
very, very wet.
She continued to stroke slowly, learning as she went at just which spots more stimulation elicited 
blissful sounds from her otherwise silent partner. She made sure to pay extra attention to those 
spots, delighting in the effect her efforts had on him... and astonished at the size the object in her 
hand had attained. She played with the tip, coating her palm with the fluid seeping from it, then 
resumed her slow, deliberate stroking, taking out her mental ruler as she did so.
A couple more trips up and down its length convinced her that her estimate was probably right. 
Krycek’s member was a good eight inches or so. A good thick eight inches or so. I can take all 
that inside? How the hell...?
It was time to see how. Scully shifted uncomfortably. Was he ever going to make a move? Wet 
wasn’t the word to describe how she felt anymore. Floods of Biblical proportions, maybe... 
"Alex?"
He thrust once into her hand as his massaging hand dropped to her shoulder and started gently 
kneading. "Mmm?"
"Are you planning on making a move, or are you just going to let me finish it like this?"
Another thrust. "Feels really... really... good... don’t stop..."
She stopped.
"Hey, what the hell...?"
Scully stole a look down. Is there such a thing as too big? That might qualify... "You said I had to 
initiate," she said, making a point of concentrating on his face.
Krycek’s eyes focused again and he lifted his head a bit. "You have the entire English language 
at your disposal, and your hand on my cock is your invitation?"
She chanced another quick, light stroke, and watched him jump in response. "You never said it 
had to be verbal..."
"Maybe it’d better be, because when you start it like this, you finish what you started."
In an instant she had his balls firmly in hand, squeezing. An instant after that his hand clamped 
around the back of her neck, also squeezing. Hard.
She held her breath, determined not to make a sound although she was both in pain and inwardly 
seething. The bastard was making the deal up as he went along. Of all the nerve... She squeezed 
harder.
A few seconds later she heard, "Dana?" Krycek’s voice was very tight, controlled. Trying not to 
scream.
"Yes, Alex?"
"That hurts."
"I know that." Served him right!
"It would be in your best interest if you let go."
It didn’t matter how mad she was; unfortunately, he was right. What was the object of this 
exercise anyway? Sex. Information. Wasn’t going to happen if she had his balls in a stranglehold. 
She let go.
He slowly let out the breath he’d been holding and at the same time released his grip on her neck. 
"Thank you."
"Okay, Krycek, start explaining," she demanded, rubbing her neck. "What do you mean, I finish 
what I started?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. You start a hand job, you finish a hand job. Either that or you make 
it damn clear what you want."
"You can’t change the deal now!" She made a move toward his balls again, but his hand clamped 
down on her wrist and held it.
"I’m not changing anything," he explained patiently. "You obviously misunderstood the original 
terms. Maybe we should review the bare bones of this deal. I get serviced. You get information. 
That being the case, any and all forms of sex, including manual, oral, or... whatever else you may 
think of... fall under the deal. You think I derive all my pleasure from making you feel good? No. 
I need something from this too, and that’s it."
She tried to wrench her wrist from his grip, but he held fast. "Bastard," she hissed.
"My parents were married," he said quietly.
"What happened to, and I quote, ‘lots more of those 3-orgasm sexual encounters’?" she seethed. 
"What happened to ‘I focused on your pleasure’? Information isn’t the only thing I’m supposed 
to get out of this deal, pal!"
"If you get anything besides information, it’s only through the benevolence of your partner in this 
thing, and that would be me. You might think about that before you piss me off."
"You’re not the one getting pissed off!" What in the world ever made her think she wanted to 
sleep with this man?
"Wanna bet?"
There was a spark of anger in his eyes. Well-controlled, yes, but it was there, serving to remind 
her just who she was dealing with. Pissing Alex Krycek off was never a good idea. There was no 
telling what he would or could do. She dropped her gaze and let her hand fall, limp, onto the 
sofa cushion.
Krycek relaxed a bit too. "Now, Dana, there’s no reason to get all upset," he said calmly. "I guess 
I just didn’t make myself clear when this started. Whatever pleasure you get from this is 
incidental. Information is not given based on whether you come. It’s based on whether or not I 
do. So if you decide to do what you did tonight, I will let you finish it. I have an orgasm, you 
get a disk, everybody’s happy. If you want any more than that, you might want to make it 
clearer. Don’t assume I’ll lunge just because your hand is in my pants. Sometimes a hand job is 
enough, and you know, you’re really pretty good at it..."
"Son of a bitch," she sneered.
"All I’m saying is, if you want to get laid, you have to ask. Yes, verbally. Just like we agreed to 
originally. Is that really so hard?"
She took a deep, cleansing breath, but said nothing.
"Has it really been so long since you’ve indulged your desires that you don’t remember how to 
ask? Or are you still afraid to admit just what it is you desire?"
She found her gaze drifting downward again. Looking at that, it wasn’t hard to remember why 
she’d made this deal. And why she’d started this tonight.
"Now, why don’t you tell me what you want?" His hand tangled in her hair as his silky voice 
purred in her ear.
Her stranglehold on his balls hadn’t done his erection any favors, but that was easily put right. 
She reached out and started to stroke him again; long, slow strokes that soon drew an involuntary 
moan from him. "This," she murmured. "I want this."
About a minute and a half later, after a flurry of clothing was flung around the room, she had 
those eight thick inches buried inside her. It was fast and hard, rough and hot. It hurt. It hurt a 
lot.
She came four times.
And she wanted more.
Afterwards, she slid out from underneath him, gathered her clothes, and stumbled into the 
bedroom. If his intention had been to show her who was in control, he’d certainly succeeded. He 
knew just how far to push things, too. He’d been rough with her, but she wasn’t bleeding. The 
sex had hurt... but it also felt good. Much too good.
Scully collapsed on the bed, still trembling. Never in her life had she been turned on by pain. 
Why now? Was it only because Krycek was so skillful? That he knew which buttons to push?
Was it that easy to explain why, sore and shaking as she was, she wanted him in bed with her 
right that second?
Oh, God, I’m in trouble. I need help...
Hearing movement from the other room, she slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. 
This was the first time she was afraid, really afraid, of Krycek since the night she’d first found 
him in her apartment. He’d told her then that he could hurt her anytime he wanted to, but after 
that night, she didn’t think he would. Not like this, at least. And the worst part was she didn’t 
even know just what had set him off. Still, he had to know he’d gone too far this time. She sat 
up in the bed, and, holding up the sheet to cover herself, called out, "Alex?"
After a moment he appeared in the doorway, stark naked and holding a liquor bottle. "Yeah?"
Say it, Dana. Just say it. But her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Instead she heard herself ask, "What 
are you drinking?"
"Vodka." He leaned against the doorjamb and took a long swig from the bottle.
"Vodka?" She hadn’t seen him drink anything alcoholic except beer at dinner, and that wasn’t 
even every night. Okay, he was still angry.
"Yeah, vodka. Russian bottled water." Krycek took another long drink. "Did you want 
something?"
"Well... yes..." In the state he was in, he wouldn’t take what she had to say very well, but what 
could he do? On an intellectual level, she knew, and was sure he knew, that he couldn’t really 
hurt her or he’d sabotage his own deal. If only that knowledge made what she had to say easier...
"Well?"
Scully raised her head and met his eyes. "Before... umm..."
"Yeah?"
"What happened... it hurt. You hurt me."
He shrugged and drank again. "You wanted it."
"Not like that."
"You didn’t tell me to stop."
Why didn’t I? "Would you? If I had?"
Krycek considered this for a moment. "Maybe," he said. "Probably. I guess I made my point 
pretty fast."
Scully blinked at him. "Your point? What the hell point were you making?"
"What point? How ‘bout that you won’t get what you want if you don’t ask for it?"
"Like you’d really give it to me? Don’t do me any favors," Scully sneered.
He shrugged again. "I can’t if you don’t tell me what you want. We discussed this at the 
beginning. Do you not understand the deal? Or do you just have a communication problem?"
She took a deep breath and bit back the first reply that came to mind, which she was sure would 
just piss him off more. When she spoke, her voice was calm and even. "If I do, I’d better 
communicate this very clearly. If that happens again, if you ever hurt me like that again, this deal 
is over. Finished. You’re out on the street and I don’t care who finds you first, Mulder or the 
smoking man. Understood?"
"Fine. You try another half-nelson on my balls and I’ll break your neck. Understood?"
Her gaze swept over his sleek, well-muscled body and she knew he meant what he said. He 
could hurt her anytime and in any way he wanted to, and, unless her gun was handy, she really 
couldn’t do anything about it. It might not be in his best interest to use that power, but he had it, 
just the same. He had the upper hand, no matter what. "Understood," she said quietly.
"Good." Krycek set the vodka bottle on the dresser and came to sit beside her on the bed. "See, 
Dana, you’re making things a lot more complicated than they have to be," he said, running his 
hand slowly up her sheet-covered leg. "It’s really very simple. You just have to ask. That’s all. 
You don’t have to make an elaborate production out of it. A few simple words will do. Those 
words you used last time were very effective..."
She wanted to swat his hand away, but what he was doing felt too good. She released her grip 
on the sheets and stretched her legs out. "It’s not simple if you keep changing the deal."
"I didn’t change the deal. It’s still the same. If you want to have sex, you have to tell me. When 
you start with a hand job, how am I supposed to know you don’t want to finish it?"
God, I need help. All he needs to do is touch my leg and I want him. I’m so easy it’s disgusting. 
My high school boyfriends wouldn’t know me anymore... "Why on earth would I do something 
solely for your pleasure?"
"How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking?" he countered, letting his hand stray farther 
up her leg. "I’m not a mind reader, y’know. You were already doing something that felt pretty 
good. Why would I stop you unless I got a better offer?"
His hand moved to the inside of her leg, where just the barest touch turned her insides to jelly. 
"You did imply that great sex was part of the package," she sighed.
"I told you sex was part of the package. I never told you it’d always be great. That’s an awful lot 
of pressure to heap on a guy, y’know. Talk about performance anxiety..."
"Right. You’ve never had performance anxiety in your life."
He chuckled. "You’re so good for the male ego, y’know that?"
"You did imply that the sex would always be great."
"Did I? Oh, I suppose I did," he mused, turning his attention to the other still-covered leg. 
"Makes sense. The information is for Mulder, the sex is for you. It probably should always be 
great. Seems only fair, doesn’t it?"
She sighed softly and parted her legs to his gentle exploration. "Did you just change the deal 
back?"
Krycek laughed softly. "I never changed the deal. The fundamental thing for you always 
remained the same. You. Must. Ask. How am I supposed to know you want great sex unless you 
tell me?"
"Last time... wasn’t great..."
"How many orgasms was that?"
"It hurt..."
His eyes, which had been following his hand’s journey, now met hers. "Behave and it’ll never 
happen again."
Behave?
"Must be that Catholic upbringing," he continued. "Too much self-denial. This deal might even be 
good for you, if it gets you to start asking for things you want. Now..." His slow massage 
stopped and his hand rested on her thigh. "Is there anything you happen to want?"
Ask. All she had to do was ask. Not hard, just a few simple words. Why did she find them so 
hard to say? "Yes," she finally murmured, her eyes meeting his. "I want to do it again. And I 
want to do it right."
"Not bad," he said. "Do what?"
He knew very well what. He just had to make her spell it out, didn’t he? "Sex," she growled. "I 
want to have sex again, and I want to do it right."
"See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?" he asked, pulling the sheet away and stroking her bare inner 
thigh as she lay back on the pillow. "Like they say, ask and you shall receive..."
Scully was glad he didn’t kiss her. With all the conflicting feelings swirling around inside her, 
she thought she might bite his tongue off. He wisely applied that talented mouth to other areas of 
her anatomy and soon had her squirming, writhing, moaning... all but begging him to do what she 
really wanted.
He wouldn’t. She couldn’t tell if he was just making good on his promise to make it great for her, 
or if he was teaching her another "ask and you shall receive" lesson, but at around the same time 
she lost count of the number of orgasms his lips and tongue gave her, he stopped briefly and 
looked at her. "Still can’t do it, can you?"
Still panting, she propped herself on her elbows and met his eyes. "What the hell? I... asked!" She 
took several deep breaths and found her voice again. "You wanted proactive, I gave you 
proactive and it wasn’t good enough. I gave you verbal, and it isn’t good enough. What the hell 
do you want?"
"You know what I want. I’ve made no secret of that. The question is, what do you want?"
"I told you. I asked. What more could you possibly ask for?"
"You know..." he said speculatively, gently kneading a nipple, "publishers make billions putting 
out women’s magazines that teach their readers how to get what they want in bed. And y’know 
what they all say? That you have to communicate with your partner. Do we communicate, 
Dana?"
She blinked at him. "Wha--"
"Apparently not," Krycek decided. "What would you do if you couldn’t?" And with that his 
hand clamped down over her mouth as his mouth enthusiastically attacked a breast and his other 
hand dipped between her legs again.
She had to admit he made his point this time. She was never more desperate to speak in her life. 
If he’d just move that hand she’d say anything he wanted her to. She’d even use the same words 
she’d used the last time, if he liked them so much. With his hand where it was, she couldn’t even 
properly cry out her pleasure when she came, which he made sure she did often. She tried to bite 
his hand, but couldn’t manage it. She wanted to shove it away, but her hands were otherwise 
occupied, fingers digging into his back.
It wasn’t until she stopped fighting the hand over her mouth that he let up on the pressure a little. 
And it was only then that he switched hands (as it had been the artificial one that was over her 
mouth) and finally entered her.
She relaxed then and even started to enjoy being gagged. A little, at least. She managed to lick 
his palm, eliciting a gasp of surprise from him. Enjoying the reaction she got, she kept licking, 
trying to match the rhythm of his thrusting, until he finally came, only then removing his hand 
from her mouth.
She was just lying there, limp and utterly exhausted, when he spoke. "So... did it meet with your 
approval this time?"
There was an edge of sarcasm in his voice, but she ignored it. "Mm-hmm."
"And you thought I was grading your performance..."
"I hate you, Alex."
"I thought you liked it this time."
"Since when do I have to ask twice? There you go, changing the deal again." She knew she 
should be more assertive on that point, but she just couldn’t muster up the energy.
"I’m not asking for much. A simple ‘please’ would do. For all I know, you might want only oral 
sex. How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t tell me?"
"If you don’t quit making this stuff up as you go along, this deal’s over."
"Oh, I’m making stuff up as I go along, all right, but not the terms of the deal..."
"I hate you, Alex."
"Then I must be doing my job right. G’night, Dana."
*************************
Scully stared at her computer, not seeing a single word on the monitor in front of her. Her mind 
kept going over the issues that had come up the previous night. Funny thing about the deal, she 
mused. She and Krycek never seemed to resolve any issues, but every time they did something 
deal-related, new ones came up.
She didn’t want to think about one of the issues. She simply could not admit to herself that it 
was possible that she liked it rough sometimes. Last night had been an aberration. She’d been 
thinking about sex for three days, so anything she got at that point was likely to feel great. She 
didn’t like it. She couldn’t. It just wasn’t possible, and she was determined to banish the thought 
from her mind.
The other issue wasn’t as easy to dismiss. Every time she thought she had the deal straight, 
Krycek changed some aspect of it. Minor changes, yes, but it made her feel like they were 
covering the same ground over and over again. But did anything ever change in practice? No. 
She’d make an attempt to fulfill her part of the deal, and he’d tell her it wasn’t good enough. She 
was truly starting to feel like they were beating a dead horse every time they talked about it. 
Would anything be good enough for him? She wished he’d just make up his mind so they could 
get down to some real business. She could do it -- if she were aroused enough, she could almost 
forget that her partner had any sort of past at all -- but she was sick to death of talking about it.
"Agents?"
Scully’s attention snapped back to the present as she turned around. Assistant Director Walter 
Skinner stood just inside the door of the basement office, a slim folder in his hand.
Mulder looked up from his computer, where he had been studying the same file Scully had been 
staring at. "What can we do for you, sir?" he asked their boss.
Skinner stood there a moment, looking both of them over. Scully held her breath, almost certain 
that her deal had been discovered and she was about to be fired... or worse. Skinner wouldn’t do 
that in front of Mulder, though, would he?
"I just thought you’d want to know," Skinner finally said, interrupting her thoughts. "This hasn’t 
been confirmed, but we’ve had a report that Alex Krycek’s been sighted in the area."
Scully gasped, feeling a sudden rush of fear so intense it made her nauseous. She took a few 
deep, gulping breaths, trying to calm herself and act normal, but it wasn’t working. Mulder 
noticed and stopped ranting, and both he and Skinner were looking at her. "Scully, you okay?" 
Mulder asked.
She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, feeling some semblance of control start to 
return. "Yes, Mulder, I’m fine," she said. She was surprised to hear that her voice sounded almost 
normal.
When neither man took his eyes off her, she continued, "I’m just surprised, that’s all. I was under 
the impression that Krycek was dead, or at least still in Russia."
Mulder turned back to Skinner. "Want us to bring him in, sir?"
Before their boss could say anything, Scully interrupted. "On what pretext, Mulder?"
She realized her mistake as soon as both men turned to look at her again. She’d never before 
defended Krycek. If she attempted to do so now, it would raise red flags all over the place. She 
didn’t want him caught, but she couldn’t give her deal away, either.
"Pretext, Scully?" Mulder asked almost in disbelief. "After what he’s done?"
"We can’t prove any of it," she countered. This was familiar ground; she and Mulder had had this 
argument several times in the past. "What charge could we possibly bring against him that we 
could make stick?"
"Assault, for one thing," Skinner said, absently rubbing his jaw.
"Murder," Mulder added.
"Mulder, you’ve never been able to find any evidence that he killed your father," she said softly.
"What about your sister? Cardinal said he was there."
Scully bit her lip. Yes, he’d been there. She wasn’t sure she believed his story about that night, 
but she did know he hadn’t fired the fatal shot. "I’m not entirely convinced of that. I was 
holding him at gunpoint. He would’ve said anything to keep me from shooting him."
"If nothing else," Skinner broke in, "we can bring him in for questioning. There are still two 
bombs that I’d like to know more about."
"So this is to be an official assignment?" That feeling of panic hadn’t completely left. She had no 
idea what she’d do if the assignment was official.
"Not yet," Skinner said, and Scully heaved an inward sigh of relief. "The report hasn’t been 
confirmed, so I can’t really assign anything yet. I’m just asking that you keep an eye out." He 
passed the folder to Mulder.
"I certainly hope you intend to take this seriously this time if it becomes official," Scully said, 
even as she mentally berated herself for not keeping quiet.
Again both Mulder and Skinner looked at her. "Seriously?" Mulder asked.
"Look what happened last time. You," she pointed at Skinner, "harbored this wanted man in your 
own home, and you," she pointed at Mulder, "dragged him off to a foreign country and let him 
go! If we’re going after him, we do it right this time. By the book."
Mulder and Skinner exchanged glances, conveying something she didn’t understand. She wasn’t 
defending Krycek; why were they looking at her like that?
"Okay, if it means that much to you, Scully," Mulder said after a moment. "By the book it is."
He was still looking at her funny. Thinking quickly, she came up with a cover they’d probably 
accept. "I just don’t want any case we manage to bring against him thrown out of court on a 
technicality. Unofficial safe houses and unauthorized trips halfway around the world certainly 
won’t help."
Scully held her breath. Her behavior wasn’t really that odd, was it? She didn’t want Krycek 
jailed -- she knew it would be about two seconds before he spilled the deal if he were -- but she 
was going along with the idea. She could make a show of hunting for him, as long as neither 
Mulder nor Skinner did anything crazy, like they had the last time.
Skinner finally spoke. "You’re right, Agent Scully. We should do this by the book. So for now, 
just keep your eyes open and don’t do anything. You’ll be advised if this becomes an official 
investigation."
"Thank you, sir." Mulder ushered their boss out, then turned back to Scully. "Dragged him off 
and let him go?" he asked. "Did you forget what almost happened over there?"
"What about --" She managed to stop the rush of words while she could still cover herself. What 
about what happened to Krycek? That question would go over just wonderfully with Mulder. She 
stopped and gathered her wits again, and felt a brief stab of guilt. She was only in the deal to 
help her partner. Shouldn’t she be protecting him instead?
"What about what, Scully?" Mulder asked, giving her that funny look again.
She chose her words carefully. At this point, the only way to protect Mulder was to keep Krycek 
out of jail and the deal secret. "What about what you did?" she asked, careful not to make it 
sound like an accusation. "Mulder, I know you went through a horrible ordeal over there, but 
what you did was wrong." She moved closer and gently laid a hand on his arm. "You do 
understand that, don’t you?"
Mulder challenged her gaze for a long moment before looking away. "Okay, maybe it wasn’t the 
brightest move I ever made," he admitted.
"And we have to be smart with this. The best thing to do is take our time, collect information, 
and build an airtight case against him. It’s the only way."
"I want him, Scully." Mulder’s voice was low, determined.
"So do I, Mulder," she said softly. Oh, God, so do I... "But we have to take it slow and follow 
the rules or we won’t get him. Okay?"
Mulder studied her for another long moment. "I guess that’s the one thing we haven’t tried yet," 
he finally said. "Okay, we’ll do it your way."
"You won’t regret it." With a sigh of relief, Scully sat down in front of her computer. "Now, 
what do you think of these files?"
*************************
No matter what kind of spin he put on it, Krycek could only come up with one word for the 
events of the previous night: stupid. Dana Scully wasn’t the type of woman who’d respond to 
threats and violence. So what had he given her? Threats and violence.
He could tell himself that he’d only been rough with her to regain control of the encounter, but 
he knew it hadn’t been necessary. He was back in control the instant she said she wanted to have 
sex. Why had he reacted like that?
Sure, she’d pissed him off, but that was no excuse. It wasn’t like it was the first time she’d done 
that, and he usually managed to control his temper. He was on shaky enough ground with the 
deal already; scaring her, no matter what she did that annoyed him, wasn’t going to get her to 
put out any faster. He knew that, had known it going into the deal. What the hell was it about 
that situation that made him do what he did?
Yes, he had to show Scully who was boss again before she decided that testicle strangling was 
going to be a regular activity, but he couldn’t quite get away from the idea that he’d been 
forceful simply because he wanted her. Wanted her much, much more than he’d been willing to 
admit to himself up until now. If that were the case, as soon as she gave the green light, he didn’t 
regain control; he lost it. Completely and totally.
The same thing had happened the first time they’d had sex under the deal, on the night she 
watched the video. That time, thanks to the video and the foreplay, she’d been as desperate as he 
was, so she hadn’t really noticed. Not so this time.
He could only shake his head. Did he really want her badly enough that he could lose control and 
end up sabotaging his own deal?
Stupid, stupid, colossally stupid. His personal stuff was starting to overshadow the larger goals, 
and that was a very bad thing. He was definitely making progress toward one of his objectives: 
melting the Ice Queen. She might not admit it to herself, but she was hooked. She had to be, to 
want him again even after saying he’d hurt her. And even after the deal changed. He’d denied it 
when she made the accusation, but he had indeed changed it somewhat. Probably only for that 
one occasion, but if she tolerated all rule changes as well as she’d taken those, he wouldn’t 
hesitate to try it again. He wondered how far he could push the parameters of the deal before she 
threw him out.
He knew he couldn’t push the forcefulness thing any further, though. The deal was too 
successful on the Ice Queen front for him to risk it any further. Already Scully had, if not 
betrayed, at least compromised a lot of things that were important to her. Saint Scully was 
slipping off that pedestal of hers, slowly but surely, and further violence would only send her 
scurrying back there.
That meant severely reining in his impulses, something that went against Krycek’s nature. He 
suspected that his intense desire for her was so closely entwined with his desire to destroy her 
that the loss of control he’d exhibited so far was almost inevitable. But it had to stop 
immediately. He could afford to take it more slowly with the sex. It wasn’t like he had to worry 
about never having her again; he had her practically begging him to fuck her. His desire for her 
would be sated, no problem, especially if she were really as hooked as he thought she was. If he 
kept hurting her and alienating her, she might continue to sleep with him, but she’d remain cold 
and distant; firmly planted on her pedestal.
It would be an interesting challenge, if nothing else... and it actually fed into the overall 
mindfuck. Aside from the first night seduction, both encounters so far had been of the hot, 
sweaty, intense, "if I don’t have sex right this second I’ll die" type -- for both of them. Taking 
things slower and more gently would mess with Scully’s head quite nicely; would really make her 
wonder what he was up to. And for Alex Krycek, there was nothing quite like a good mindfuck.
His thoughts were interrupted by the slam of the apartment door. A few seconds later, Scully 
appeared in the kitchen. "I hope you’re happy!" she snapped.
That was a loaded statement if he’d ever heard one. "What am I supposed to be happy about 
now?"
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "You’ve been spotted."
Krycek brushed past her to put plates and utensils in a pile on the table. "Go ahead, say it," he 
told her. "I know you’re dying to."
"Okay, if you insist... I told you so. Feel better now?"
He offered her a tight smile. "Yes, much. So, where, when and by whom was I supposedly 
seen?"
"Two days ago, in the southeast part of the city. The report was filed by Agent Matthew Parker."
Southeast D.C. Visions flashed through Krycek’s mind: a clock blinking 12:00 over and over, the 
force and heat of the explosion knocking him to the ground; a desperate and ill-advised phone 
call... He somehow managed to suppress the involuntary shudder. "Who’s Agent Matthew 
Parker, and what the hell does he know about me?"
Scully took a deep breath and began to set the table with the items he’d placed on it. "Agent 
Parker was part of the team involved in the warehouse bust in Queens last November," she said. 
"He must’ve noticed Mulder and I focusing on you, figured you were important, and 
remembered what you look like. Once Mulder reported that you were missing, Parker probably 
thought it would be a good idea if he kept his eyes open."
"Rookie?"
"I think he came out of Quantico about seven or eight months before that."
Krycek snorted. "Figures. So now what?"
"Skinner asked us to keep an eye out for you, but he wouldn’t call it an official assignment yet."
"Just you and Mulder?"
"For now, yes." Scully took the glasses he handed her and placed them on the table. "I covered 
for you as best I could, and I insisted that any investigation be run by the book. That should slow 
them down, if nothing else."
He couldn’t help but laugh. "By the book? Spooky and Skinhead? You’re kidding, right?"
"How dare you?" she huffed. "After what you’ve done, you expect kid-glove treatment when --"
"Kid-glove treatment?" he broke in. "Do you have any idea what really happened last 
November?"
She waited, glaring at him.
"After beating me up, your boss handcuffed me to his balcony railing. Outside. Left me there all 
night. It was November... and cold, remember? I think it dropped below freezing that night."
Scully dropped her gaze, no longer challenging him. Her silence told Krycek that she didn’t think 
Skinner incapable of such treatment. He knew he should stop there, quit while he was ahead, but 
her ignorance annoyed him. Spooky never let his partner see his bad side, did he? It was high 
time she knew.
"And your partner... he violated my civil rights all over the place. If he hadn’t punched my lights 
out and dumped me in the back of the truck he stole to escape, I’d still have my damn arm!"
At the words, a sudden jolt of pain shot through his left shoulder, causing him to drop the bowl 
he hadn’t even realized he was holding. It shattered on the floor, scattering salad greens and 
shards of glass all over the kitchen.
Damn it, damn it, damn it! he berated himself, closing his eyes and massaging the shoulder. Can’t 
even talk about it without making it hurt. Jesus, does it ever stop?
Scully bent down and started cleaning up the mess. "You can’t blame Mulder for that. It wasn’t 
his fault."
"Could’ve trusted me," Krycek said through clenched teeth. If he ignored it, didn’t think about 
it, it would stop hurting, right? "Could’ve waited. I would’ve gotten him out of there with both 
arms... I was negotiating that with the commandant when he jumped me."
"Not soon enough!" she snapped.
"Timing was perfect. I did him a favor in there. When he gets the information about the test, he’ll 
see that."
"Favor? Some favor! He’ll see --" Scully straightened up and focused on him for the first time 
since he’d dropped the bowl. "Are you all right?"
"No."
He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to let her see the pain or how much it affected him, but 
the word just slipped out. She disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a cup of water and 
two pills. She pried his right hand off his shoulder and placed the pills in it. "It’s all I have 
available," she said. "Maybe they’ll take the edge off it."
Ibuprofen. He could grind up a whole bottle of ibuprofen pills, pour milk over them and have 
them for breakfast, and they still wouldn’t take the edge off the pain on the worst days. But this 
wasn’t one of the worst days, not by far. At least he was still vertical. He took the pills and sat 
down.
Scully sat too. "You really think you did Mulder a favor by letting him go through that?" she 
asked quietly.
Krycek nodded. "He’ll see it eventually. If he’s smart enough to figure out what I give him, he’ll 
see it." His efforts to ignore the pain were starting to work -- it was beginning to fade. It was too 
soon for the pills to work; it had to be mind over matter. But it wouldn’t continue if he didn’t 
change the subject. "So, did you talk to this Parker kid yet?"
Scully sighed. "Not yet. He’s away on assignment."
"When you do, make sure you get to him before Mulder does. It can’t be too hard to persuade an 
ass-kissing rookie that he was... mistaken."
She looked up at him. "Was he mistaken?"
"Of course."
"Don’t lie to me, Alex. I can’t cover for you if you’re not straight with me."
He sighed. "He was wrong, Dana. Wrong."
"You haven’t been in the southeast section of the city?"
"Not two days ago --"
"Dammit, Alex, what is wrong with you?" Scully interrupted. "I thought we already talked about 
this. You cannot just run around this city without taking precautions!"
He glared at her. "I take precautions against known threats. How the hell was I supposed to 
know some junior G-man was looking for me?"
"Possible assassins are known threats?"
"Assassins are actually easier to spot. Takes one to know one, y’know."
Scully sighed again. "Just be more careful next time, okay? What were you doing in that part of 
town anyway?"
"Business," he said quickly.
"Oh?" One eyebrow arched. "What kind of business?"
"Just business, okay? You think I sit around here watching talk shows and soap operas all day?" 
No need to tell her what he had going on. She probably wouldn’t understand anyway.
"Fine. Just be more careful in the future, please. It would be in your best interest to make it as 
easy as possible for me to cover for you."
Oh, yes, she was well and truly hooked. Krycek favored her with a warm smile. "Of course. Your 
wish is my command."
"Hmph. Feeling better yet?"
He absently rubbed at his left shoulder. "Yeah, better."
"Good. Then shut up and get dinner on the table. I’m starving."
Hooked, yes, but still completely Scully. What a surprise it would be to her when that pedestal of 
hers completely disappeared.
End Chapter 5
Chapter 6
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