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And You Are Gone Tonight by Bobbi
Summary: "Marita, I had to say goodbye." Krycek/Marita, The Truth, PG13.

And You Are Gone Tonight
By: Bobbi
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but are the respective
property and ideas of Chris Carter and Company. However, ideas are
Summary: "Marita, I had to say goodbye."
Rating: PG
Feedback: Every word of it will be greatly appreciated at
smberens1013@aol.com. Please send, this is only my second attempt at
Marita/Krycek fic, and I'd like to know if I should write more.
Archive: If you'd like to, please drop me a line letting me know
where at my e-mail.
Spoilers: "The Truth"
Keywords: Marita. Krycek. M/Kr romance.
Author's Note: As much as I liked the series finale, I was
disappointed at the absence of Marita/Krycek interaction, so I had to
write a missing scene where I felt there should've been one. It's a
short, bittersweet scene, but a flash into what could have been and I
believe, that we should have seen.


As Marita Covarrubias walked down the hall, away from the courtroom,
she let out a long, drawn out, yet thankful, sigh. In that room, she
had been so close to speaking the truth, at any expense - all of the
lies in that room could have been dissolved by the truths that she
kept locked away in her mind. They would have killed her, though,
she knew, and that's why Mulder had stopped her - because he didn't
want to be at fault for another martyr for his long fading, and now
lost, cause. He couldn't carry anymore guilt of another person dying
in relation to his name. The realization had hit him that far too
many had been sacrificed over the years - because of him.

Marita turned down the corridor which led to the parking lot, keeping
a vigilant eye on the many offices along the walls, as if she was
scared that someone might instantaneously jump out and hurt or kill
her. And suddenly, she felt it - a hand on her shoulder.

*His* hand on her shoulder. Her fallen comrade's, her lost lover's --
although she couldn't have known that as she turned around, she
couldn't have had any clue that the hand on her shoulder was that of
the deceased Alex Krycek. The only thing she knew was that, for one
reason or another, this person's touch did not instill fear in her.

When she'd turned around to face him, she gasped softly: she'd heard
of his death nearly a year ago, that he'd taken a fatal bullet at the
hands of A.D. Skinner -- another death that had something to do with

"Alex..." she whispered softly, surprised at the softness of her
"Marita..." he whispered, his hand still on her shoulder. "Oh God,
you have no idea how much I've missed you..."
"Nor I, you," a small smile passed her lips - nevertheless, a smile
for a woman who was nearly always serious and stoic.
He laughed softly.
"It was never worth it, you know-" he started.
"Worth what?" she interrupted.
"Worth fighting them, the colonists, worth resisting, because we
never had a chance-"
"Alex, don't say that..." she said, stepping toward him and
embracing him.

He smelled the same as he had in life, she noted: dangerous, yet
also dangerously seductive.

"We never did, Marita, and now it's too late-"
"It's not too late, we won't stop fighting," she vowed.
"No Marita, we won't, but I will... I'll have to, because it's too
late for me..."
"It's not too late, don't say it's too late."

He brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, breathing her in
and wishing that he could somehow will himself back into life to be
with her once more, to experience what they'd denied themselves for
so long -- too long... to experience love, to experience them. He
wanted to tell her something he'd never had the heart to, because
he'd tried to convince himself that a man of his station could never
have a heart, and he hadn't accepted the truth until it had been too

"Come home with me," she whispered hungrily, needfully, as she
kissed his neck.
"You know I can't do that, it's too late for me..." he breathed
deeply, trying to memorize her scent in his mind and stain the moment
there forever.
"Don't let it be too late - don't let yourself be a slave of fate,
come, revolt, be with me."
"Marita, I can't because I'm not... I'm not alive."
"I know Alex, but -"
"Marita, listen, there's no time for you. You're an unnecessary,
easily disposed of problem for them, and they won't hesitate to
eliminate you if you stick around."
"Alex, are you asking me to leave?"
"No Marita, I'm telling you to leave, for us. I don't want to see
them break you, not when it's not your time."
"But I can't leave, not without you," she said stubbornly.
"You can and you will if you care for me," he said - and with that,
he vanished.

Marita Covarrubias, a woman of little or no emotion, looked around
and found herself alone as a single tear fell down her face. Quickly
rubbing it away and reminding herself that she couldn't cry, Marita
hurried outside to her car.

Once she got there, she turned the keys in the ignition and pulled
out of the parking lot speedily, as if running for her life, even if
it didn't have meaning anymore. She had to fight, had to fight the

When she stopped at a red light, she felt it again - felt him. She
looked around and gasped again when she saw him next to her in the
passenger seat.

"You shouldn't be surprised, this is the second time..." he started
"I thought you weren't coming," she said flatly.
"I can't, Marita, but I had to say goodbye one last time."

She swallowed her tears, forcing herself not to cry... she would not

"Don't make this any harder than it already is -" she started.
"Marita..." he said softly, "the truth you know..." he pointed to
his heart that he had thought at one time to be nonexistant, and then
to hers, resting his hand on her chest for a long moment, "is the
truth that is gone. But I swear to you, it will stay with you and
you'll find it again."
"When? When, Alex?"
"Soon," he replied. "Soon, I swear it..."

And with that, he was gone... but a new seed of hope had been planted
in Marita Covarrubias - a small hope, but a growing, budding, hopeful

For now, she'd continue to fight, for all of mankind:

but she'd see him again - and soon.