Summary: Marita planned to save the world, but could she save herself? Krycek/Marita, Requiem spoilers, NC17.

TITLE: Dangerous Folly

AUTHOR: Kelly Keil

EMAIL: klkeil@buckeye-express.com

WEBSITE: http://grapefruithead.com/kellyfic/

ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just keep my info attached.

FEEDBACK: Is welcomed, read, and answered.

SPOILERS: Anything up through Requiem is fair game.
Nothing from S8.

RATING: NC-17

CLASSIFICATION: S, A, Marita/Krycek

DISCLAIMER: The X-files characters portrayed in this
story belong to Fox, 1013, and Chris Carter. They were
bored and restless, so I let them out and gave them
some exercise.

SUMMARY: Marita planned to save the world, but could
she save herself?

NOTE: For this story, I'm going on the assumption that
Mulder was abducted in May 2000. Additional notes at
the end.

~~~~~~~~~~

When lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy?
What art can wash her guilt away?
--Oliver Goldsmith

~~~~~~~~~~

December 1991
Washington D.C.


The first thing Marita Covarrubias learned as a
congressional intern was how not to bump her head on
the desk while giving her boss a blowjob.

The second thing she learned was not to ignore
opportunity when it stared her in the face, or even
peered at her from around a corner. She learned to
jump at any and every chance that came her way. "You
make your own luck," her boss was fond of saying, and
it was one of the few things that came out of his mouth
that Marita didn't find to be utter bullshit.

Marita was ambitious. She didn't want to be some two-
bit senator's piece of ass. She wanted to play with
the big boys. So she kept her eyes and ears open and
her mouth shut. She took notes, she made copies, and
she snapped photos. When a chance to get ahead
presented itself, she wanted to be prepared.

Opportunity came knocking on her door at the sort of
Washington party where the women wear very little and
don't stay in it for very long. She was walking
around, mentally noting who was slipping off with whom,
when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Marita turned around and saw a young man who looked to
be not much older than her. She thought he might be an
intern, like she was, or maybe a young politician. He
wasn't someone she recognized, but he seemed harmless.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I hope so," he said. "Are you Marita Covarrubias?"
He exuded earnestness. Marita figured him for a former
boy scout.

"Yes," she said.

"Don't you work for Senator Matheson?"

"Yes," she repeated, "is there anything -- "

Before she could finish her sentence, he pushed her
against the wall and trailed his lips up her neck.
For a second she was paralyzed with shock, and then
she drew her arm back, preparing to punch him in the
stomach. He caught her arm easily. She felt his hot
breath along her ear. "Play along, damn it. People
are watching and I don't have much time." He put his
hand on her breast and squeezed it. "Can you get me
into the senator's office? I'm prepared to pay very
well."

This is it, she thought. This was the moment she'd
been waiting and preparing for. She had no trouble
falling into the familiar role of 'seduced woman.'
She knew all the moves and gestures by heart. She ran
her leg up and down his. "Yes," she said, whispering
into his ear. "How much money are we talking about?"

"Depends on what I find," he said. "Two thousand for
starters."

"Five," she said into his hair as his lips traveled
along her collarbone.

"What?" He lifted his head and looked at her.

"Five," she repeated. "And ten when you find what you
need. I'm not sticking my neck out for less."

He considered her for a few moments. "All right. Five
right off the bat, and ten if I find what I want."

"When you find what you want," she corrected him with a
tight smile on her face.

His hand entwined in her hair and he pulled her head
back, exposing her throat. His mouth fastened onto her
neck and she knew there would be a mark for her to hide
in the morning. In retaliation, she bit his earlobe.
"When?" she asked.

"Tonight," he said, then kissed her.

Marita was surprised to find herself turned on. He
wasn't her type at all -- too young and too pretty --
but maybe it was the danger of the situation that
aroused her. She looked into his dark green eyes.
"Now," she said, and this time it was she who kissed
him.

No one paid any attention to them as they stumbled out.
The man played his part until they were in his car,
then became cool and detached. Marita, nervous and
excited, attempted to behave the same way. She was
amazed at how the change in facial expression and
posture altered him. He now looked dangerous and
capable of anything. She licked her lips and composed
herself. She was determined not to fuck this up.

"Don't go to Matheson's office," she said.

"Why not?"

"Because he has me destroy all the interesting
documents. I keep the copies in my apartment."

The man whistled through his teeth. "I'd heard rumors
you were the one to approach to get to Matheson, but I
had no idea."

She gave him directions to her place. "I always save
everything," she said. "You never know what might come
in handy some day."

Marita crossed her legs and squeezed them together,
relishing the delicious ache it caused. She'd been
screwing Senator Matheson for career advancement for
months and had been getting nowhere. She was heartily
sick of it. Now she found to her surprise that she
wanted this man in her bed almost more than she wanted
the ten thousand dollars. It was bizarre. Maybe it
was because he was the first man she'd met in
Washington who seemed more interested in doing his job
than fucking her. It was a novel experience being
sought out for her knowledge.

When she showed him into the second bedroom that served
as her office, she said, "It would help if I knew what
you were looking for."

"I think Matheson is leaking sensitive information to a
certain FBI agent. I'd like proof to take back to my
superiors."

Marita could appreciate that. He was just like her --
trying to move up in a dog eat dog world. "The FBI
agent -- what does he look like?" she asked.

"Tall, dark hair, lanky, sort of a hang-dog expression
on his face."

The description struck a chord in her. "Go get the
money," said Marita. "I think I have your proof."

While the man left to go back to the car, Marita went
to her files. Now what had she filed that under? C
for conspiracy? No. She paused, trying to remember
the conversation she'd overheard between the two men.
It had been an odd one. A for abduction? No, not that
either. An idea came to her and she pulled out the
correct file. U for UFO. She had no idea why the
senator was interested about flying saucers and didn't
much care. His eccentricities didn't particularly
interest her.

The man came back in with a briefcase. "Show me what
you have," he said.

"The money first."

He unlatched the case on the desk then turned it slowly
toward her. Marita's breath caught in her throat. It
was beautiful, all that money, sitting there in large
stacks. She closed her open mouth and flashed a glance
at the man. His look was knowing, but not judgmental.
He understood what she felt. She experienced another
stab of desire for him.

"Your turn," he said, and fished the folder out of her
hands, then opened it up. "That's our boy," he said.
He paged through the rest of the information in the
folder. "You have transcripts of their conversations?"
he asked.

"Only the ones I managed to tape," she said.

"You are one dangerous woman," he said, and gave her a
brilliant smile. "Lucky for you, you're more useful to
me alive than dead."

She laughed loudly. It only occurred to her later that
he hadn't been kidding.

"Let me show you how useful I can be," she said, and
started to unzip her dress.

"A very dangerous woman," he repeated. "You don't even
know my name."

"What's your name?" she asked, slipping the dress off
of her shoulders so that it fell in a puddle at her
feet.

"You don't need to know that," he said, his voice
steady as he looked her up and down.

Marita let out a throaty laugh. She'd just made a
shady deal with a complete stranger and was horny as
hell. She felt more alive than she ever had in her
life. "You're right, I don't." She reached forward to
loosen his tie. "I don't even care what it is," she
said as she unbuttoned his shirt.

"Good," he said, and he cupped her face in his hands
before his mouth covered hers.

Her hands swept over his back, over his ass, and down
his legs as far as she could reach. She molded her
body into his and felt his erection through his wool
trousers. "Not here," she managed to say and pulled
him down the hall to her bedroom.

When he was naked before her, she was startled by the
scars covering his body. What the hell has he been
through? she wondered right before his mouth found her
breast and all thoughts fled.

For the first time in months, she called all the shots.
"Touch me there," she said. "Put your mouth on me
here. Oh, God, yes, right there." And he did.

Afterward, sated, she curled into a drowsy ball. She
was drifting off into sleep when she felt the bed shift
under her. She opened her eyes and saw him slide off
the bed. "Wait," she said.

"I have to go," he said.

"But -- "

He bent down and kissed her, his tongue sweeping in to
caress hers. "Alex," he whispered as he pulled away.
"My name's Alex." He walked out.

She lay there for some time, contemplating the night's
events. Holy fuck, she thought. Did all that really
happen? She staggered out of bed and headed to her
office. The manila folder was gone but the briefcase
remained. A note was on the case.

"There is five here. Five more will be delivered in a
few days. I will be in touch."

"This is it," Marita said aloud to the room. "I've
made it. This is the big time." A wide grin spread
across her face. Somehow she knew her life would never
be quite the same again.

~~~~~~~~~~

February 1999
Fort Marlene, Maryland


Her body screamed with agony.

She felt a hand on her forehead and heard, "Poor
Marita." Daddy? She thought for one confused moment.
She opened her eyes. No, this man was not her father.

"No," she muttered, her throat hoarse. "Go away. No
more tests. No more. No more. No..." She began to
cough, choking on the clouds of smoke that hung in the
air.

"No," Spender said. "No more tests. I think we've
discovered everything we can from you. At the same
time, you've learned how foolish betrayal can be.
We've both gained from this experience, won't you
agree?" His lips smiled around a cigarette.

She had often thought, in her more lucid moments, that
she would have fucked Satan himself to flee from the
tests, so now she was surprised by the black rage that
filled her. Spender might be her only means of escape,
but right at this moment she wanted him dead. Held
down by restraints, her hands curled into futile fists.
"What more do you want from me?" she asked.

"Nothing more than was ever expected from you, Marita:
your loyalty and cooperation. Are you prepared to give
them?"

Marita took a deep breath and unclenched her hands.
She had indeed learned many things while being used as
a human lab rat, not least of which was how to bide her
time.

"Yes," she said.

~~~~~~~~~~

September 1999
Milford, Pennsylvania


Marita sat at the end of cottage's dock on a wooden
bench. She spent most of her time out there when she
wasn't acting as Spender's little step-and-fetch-it
girl. She liked to stare into the murky depths of the
lake and wonder what it would be like to tumble off the
dock and sink down into the water until she rested on
the lake bottom. She never leaned over far enough to
find out, but she thought about it often. It was a
game she played: how badly did she want to escape her
situation? Down at the bottom of the lake was the only
place Spender couldn't pursue her. So far she had
always decided that trading her life for freedom was a
bad deal, but still she came to the dock every chance
she could. It was good to know that she had options.

She heard someone walking up behind her on the dock.
It wasn't Spender, of course. He was gone right now,
and not expected back until tomorrow. Besides, he
never ventured out to the lake. An odd, painful
emotion rose within her. Could it possibly be Alex?
She hadn't seen him in so long, not since Fort Marlene.
She couldn't forget how he looked that day, emotions
battling for supremacy on his face: fear and anxiety,
impatience, anger, and regret, although she might have
imagined the last.

Krycek was the reason why she had been locked away in
that half-forgotten laboratory and used as a guinea pig
for the black oil vaccine. She had betrayed him and he
in turn had betrayed her. Tit for tat. She still
wasn't sure why she'd done it. Maybe it had been for
the simple reason that she could. She had been so
drunk on her own power that she had thought herself
invulnerable and invincible. Now she knew that one's
life could change completely in the space between
seconds. It was a lesson she wouldn't forget.

Marita risked a glance over her shoulder. The person
coming down the dock was Krycek. Her heart sped up
as adrenaline flooded her veins. Was it fear or
excitement she felt? Maybe it was both.

"Alex," she said, turning back around.

"Marita," Krycek replied.

"It's been a long time," she said, her eyes on the
water.

"I came to see the old man," Krycek said.

"He's out," Marita said, "trying to save his sorry
excuse of a life." She drew her legs up onto the bench
and hugged them, resting her cheek on her knee. Of
course he hadn't come to see her. How could he have
even known where she was? And even if he had known,
why would he have cared?

Krycek walked over and sat down beside her. "When's he
coming back?" he asked.

Marita's shoulders rose and fell. She concentrated on
acting as if seeing him again meant nothing to her.
"Tomorrow, supposedly. Will you stay until then?"

"What choice do I have?"

A bitter smile twisted her face. "I ask myself that
all the time. Go tell Petra to make a room up for you.
You'll probably find her hiding in the kitchen."

Krycek continued to sit next to her. Instead of
looking at her, he gazed out at the blue lake. After a
few minutes' silence, he turned to her and said, "You
understand why I did what I did?"

No need to ask him for clarification. "Of course," she
said, thinking that yes, she supposed she did
understand why he had thrown her to the wolves and
later left her to die, but she had no idea why he was
bringing it up now. Could he be feeling sorry for his
act of revenge? Was it even possible for Krycek to
feel regret? Questions swam through her head.

Krycek rose and turned to leave.

Marita had written off Krycek long ago, after he had
been the third man in one night to abandon her to her
fate. Jeffrey, Mulder, and Krycek. All Spender's boys
in one way or another, and all had been in a position
to help her but failed to do so. Of the three of them,
only Krycek's abandonment had hurt. Marita had thought
they were even. She had betrayed him and he her. When
she'd seen Alex that night, she'd thought he'd come to
rescue her. Had she been foolish, or delirious from
the painful tests, or just full of arrogance? She
didn't know, but it had been a huge blow when she
realized that Krycek meant to leave her there to rot.
A part of her had died that day, but she had buried it
and no longer mourned its loss. Marita hadn't expected
to see Krycek again, despite his connection to Spender.
She'd figured he'd find a way to avoid her, one way or
another. Nevertheless, here he was, turned up like a
bad penny, and she couldn't seem to let well enough
alone.

Something in her couldn't let him walk away from her
again. She wanted to hurt him, to know that she still
could. "Alex," she said, "I never expected you to save
me. You can't even save yourself."

He turned back to face Marita. "I don't need saving,"
he said, but his voice sounded hollow to her ears, and
his face was too blank. She'd managed to hit a nerve.

"Of course not," she said in mock pity. She wanted to
push his buttons, to make him feel something for her,
if only contempt. His disinterest was intolerable.

She saw that her sarcasm hit its mark. There was a
flare of fury in his eyes and then he lunged for her.
At first Marita thought he was going to hit her, but
instead she felt his fingers bite into her upper arm.
He pulled her to her feet and started to shake her but
then his mouth was on hers, hard and insistent and
hungry. Her arms automatically went around him. One
of her hands ran along the familiar muscles of his
back, the other curled around the base of his neck.
She had almost forgotten what it was like to kiss Alex,
but it was rapidly coming back to her. Right then
there was no past, no future, only the present, only
her, only him. She wanted the moment to last forever.

Krycek abruptly pushed her away and brushed a hand
across his mouth. He backed away from her, his face a
mask of confusion and need. Marita licked her lips,
wanting to taste him again, and Alex reached out to the
dock railing for support.

"You'd better go," she said, afraid of what she'd do if
he stayed. Probably prostrate herself at his feet or
something as equally humiliating.

"Marita," he began.

"Please," she said. Don't make me beg, she thought.

Krycek turned his back on her and walked away. Marita
was grateful for the opportunity to compose herself.
She hadn't been prepared for his sudden appearance, and
was shaken by seeing him again, but she was determined
to use the situation to her advantage.

Marita went back to staring at the lake, but now she
concentrated not on its depths, but on its surface.
The sunlight caught in the water glittered like chunks
of gold. It was so hot that the sky overhead was
nearly white. She relished the heat of the Indian
summer sun on her skin. Marita had not quite forgotten
the feel the alien oil within her. It had been so
cold, so dark.

It horrified her to think that the rest of the human
race would eventually share her experience. At one
point this wouldn't have bothered her, or at least not
very much, but time had passed since then. Since the
moment she recovered from the effects of the testing,
she started searching for a way to end colonization.
She told herself that it would be her one great act of
altruism, but deep down she was more interested in
thwarting Spender. He was first on her long list of
people with whom she had a score to settle.

Seeing Alex again was an opportunity that she shouldn't
let slip through her fingers. Marita had no reason to
trust him, but he might have his own reasons for
helping her. She was not thinking of guilt, nor of
obligation, but rather of Krycek's own self-interest.
She could imagine him going to great lengths to save
the one person he truly loved: himself.

There had been a time, when she was much younger and
still had a little innocence left, that she had thought
differently. Not that she believed in fairy tale
endings -- she was far too cynical for that -- but she
had imagined he cared for her. Just a little. She had
long ago given up that notion, but now, after the kiss,
she was beginning to wonder. Was it possible that,
contrary to all evidence, Alex Krycek was not made of
stone? Now there was food for thought.

Marita felt a prickle start on her skin and knew that
she was risking sunburn, but she didn't want to go back
to the cottage and face Krycek just yet. The heat
still felt good, and she was reminded of a time before
everything went wrong. A time when a difficult
decision was whether to sit in the sun or go swimming,
drink iced tea or lemonade, to wear the pink dress or
the red one. Back before every choice she made had the
potential for disastrous consequences. Back when it
was possible to turn left instead of right.

* * *

The conversation at dinner was desultory.

Perhaps it was because of Petra's timid hovering over
the meal. Her aspect was an unsettling mixture of
wanting to please and certainty that she never would.
Marita found it irritating. She wondered why Spender
employed her, but it occurred to her that he liked to
be surrounded by broken creatures.

Marita was living proof of that. Spender was convinced
that he had her completely cowed, and to a certain
extent, he was right. Marita did fear him, even with
his health beginning to flag. She knew that he had the
power to crush her, to not just have her killed, but to
make her death excruciating torture.

Even so, she was plotting Spender's downfall. She
wasn't as broken as she seemed. That she had managed
to deceive Spender thus far gave her great pleasure.

Marita looked at Alex over her plate of barely touched
veal Marsala. She needed to speak to him about her
plans before Spender returned, but she wasn't sure how
to begin. The words wouldn't come out. She had almost
decided what to say when her courage failed her. She
couldn't figure out how to ask Krycek, who didn't trust
her, to put himself in a dangerous position by helping
her betray Spender. Marita wouldn't have been
surprised if Krycek laughed in her face. So in the
end, she picked at her food and said nothing.

Petra approached the table and tentatively asked Marita
about her duties for the next day. While she was
occupied, Krycek left the table. She looked up and
found him gone, his napkin tented over his plate.

Marita sighed. She told herself that it was for the
best. She would be better off finding a way to end
colonization that didn't involve Krycek. It was good
advice, but Alex was a useful man to have on your side.
Since betraying him, Marita learned she didn't like to
find herself on the opposite side of a battle with him.

This time I will stay in control, she told herself. I
won't let my ego get in the way of my better judgment.
I just want to make a business arrangement with Alex
that is mutually beneficial. None of this is personal.

She repeated this to herself until she believed it.

* * *

Marita searched the house for Alex, finally finding him
on the dark porch. He was looking out toward the lake.
She didn't flip on the overhead porch light, knowing it
would draw insects. She went to stand beside him. The
only illumination was from the brief flare of fireflies
and the reflection of the moon on the lake.

"What do you want?" he asked brusquely.

She almost replied, "Nothing," but stopped herself. "A
lot," she said. "The world."

"The world is already owned," he said. "Maybe I should
have asked what you want from me."

"What makes you think I want anything at all from you,
Alex?" Marita asked. She had forgotten how perceptive
he could be.

Krycek turned to face her and she could see the ghost
of a smile in the faint light. "Why else would you
have come looking for me?"

"I was lonely," she said, and although this wasn't the
reason she'd sought him out, it wasn't a lie, either.

"Do you miss the old man so much, Marita?" Krycek
sneered.

"I'm just window dressing for him. He keeps me because
I'm pretty to look at and because he wants me kept.
I'm useful to him, when he wants me to be." She hated
that she felt she had to justify herself to him. How
typical of Alex to put her on the defensive before she
could go on the offensive.

Krycek snorted and went back to looking at the lake.

"I think he's dying," she said.

"He's indestructible," Krycek said and his voice rang
with conviction. "He'll still be dying long after all
of us are dead."

"And with that chilling thought," said Marita, "I think
I'll say good night. I'll see you in the morning,
Alex. Spender should be back by then." She could tell
that she'd get nowhere trying to talk to him tonight.
He was too immersed in his own thoughts to give any
heed to hers. She turned to leave.

"Wait," he said, and caught her arm.

"What?" she asked as she turned back toward him. His
eyes glittered at her.

"I'll probably regret this later, but I don't want you
to go yet," he said. He pulled her toward him and
kissed her deeply.

Caught off guard by him, a rush of desire filled her
when his lips touched hers. She could feel the tips of
her fingers tingle as she pressed them into Alex's
back. His lips dragged over hers, pulling at them,
and she sighed into his mouth. He pushed her back
until she could feel the rough shingles of the house
against the skin of her thighs. This was the last
thing she wanted to happen, but at the same time she
had been hoping it would. Fucking Krycek wouldn't get
her anywhere, but her need for him was more powerful
than her common sense.

"Yes," he moaned as her lips found his throat. She bit
at the skin, needing to taste him, to bring part of him
into her. His hand reached inside her blouse and
underneath her bra. His fingers grazed her swollen
nipple and her head fell back, banging into the rough
shingles. She didn't notice the pain.

Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on her blouse to
help him. His mouth replaced his hand and she let out
the breath that she hadn't known she was holding.
"Alex," she said and drug her hands through his hair.
He knelt before her, his lips grazing her stomach, his
fingers trailing up her thigh and under her short
skirt.

She stumbled a bit as he nudged her legs apart but he
steadied her. He pushed aside her panties and she
arched her feet with anticipation. Touch me there, she
thought, the words trapped in her throat. She let out
an inarticulate, "Ah," as his fingers slid inside her.

"So wet, so hot," she heard him say then his lips were
on her thigh. First he licked the skin there, then he
bit it as his fingers slid back and forth, back and
forth. "Oh, God," she cried out, and banged her head
against the shingles again.

He removed his fingers and she whimpered with
frustration until he put his mouth on her. He used his
lips and tongue and teeth. She had forgotten how good
he was at this, how much she loved it. "Alex, Alex,"
she breathed. "Yes. Oh, God, yes." He didn't stop
until the orgasm hit her and she half crumpled.

He stood, hauling her up with him. He unzipped his
jeans and she pushed his hands away, wanting to touch
him. She could feel him tremble as she pulled him out.
One hand caressed his balls and the other stroked the
shaft. He stood before her, all of him focused on what
she was doing with her hands. "I want you now," she
said, and pushed his jeans further down on his hips.

Krycek pushed her back against the wall and half lifted
her. She reached down and guided his body into hers,
then wrapped her legs and arms around him. He thrust
into her deeply and she felt the scrape of the shingles
along her skin combined with the intense feeling of him
inside her. Her body, already sensitive, rocketed
toward another climax. Was it always this good, or had
it just been too long? She couldn't remember, and
didn't care. Her mouth locked onto his, and they fed
hungrily upon each other. Tension built inside her
until it exploded for a second time. Lights, like
fireflies, flashed behind the lids of her eyes.
Krycek's body thrust a final time beneath hers, then
stilled. Yes, she thought. This was how it should be.
This was how it should always be.

He pulled away from her, leaving her body. She felt
the inevitable wetness on her thighs. So messy, but
she couldn't bring herself to care. She put a hand out
for support and grabbed hold of the porch railing. "Oh
my," she said, and it sounded trite to her own ears,
but her brain didn't seem to be functioning properly
yet.

She heard him chuckle. It was a very self-satisfied
sound. She saw that he had already straightened his
clothing. The only evidence of what they just did was
that his breathing was still heavy. Marita's numb
fingers started to button her blouse. Alex leaned
against the porch railing to watch her.

When she had finished adjusting her appearance, she
pushed away from the wall and was pleased that her legs
supported her weight. She wanted to say something
witty and off hand. She needed the perfect exit line
to be able to waltz back into the house as if nothing
had just occurred. Nothing came to her. "Good night,"
she said and started to walk past him.

She felt his eyes on her as she left.

She walked up the stairs and down the hallway to her
room. She was halfway through undressing when she
heard the door open. Krycek stood there in the doorway
for a moment before entering her room and closing the
door behind him. He began to undress.

Her heart started to beat wildly in her chest. She
wanted to be alone to gather her wits about her, but
she wasn't strong enough to tell him to leave.

"You didn't think I was done with you, did you?" he
said. Krycek reached over and flipped the light switch
off. "'Cause I'm not done with you yet. Not by a long
shot." His voice was full of menacing promise.

She should have been filled with dismay or outrage at
his words. Instead she only felt triumph. After all
this time, Krycek wasn't any more immune to her than
she was to him.

"Good," Marita said. "I'm not done with you, either."

* * *

Marita looked at her lover's sleeping face in the dawn
light that streamed through her open windows. He
looked years younger and all together different from
the man she knew. He almost looked like the innocent
boy she had taken him for when they'd first met. She
didn't want to wake him, but knew she had no choice.
Spender would be home soon. It was now or never if she
wanted to recruit his help.

"Alex?"

"What?" he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.

"I never got a chance to tell you what I wanted from
you," Marita said.

"Didn't you already get it?" Alex asked, a smirk
forming on his face.

In another age, in another lifetime, Marita would have
howled with laughter. Now the stakes were too high to
play games. "Alex, I'm serious," she said. "I want to
stop colonization."

She could tell by his expression that this wasn't what
he had been expecting. "Marita..."

"We could do it. We *can* do it."

"What the hell's brought this on?" he asked.

Marita began doubting the wisdom of waiting until dawn
to broach the subject with Alex. Instead of being more
amenable to her plans, he just seemed grumpy. Still,
if she didn't say something now, she likely never
would. She pressed on, hoping for the best.

"I barely lived through the vaccine, Alex. It never
seemed real to me before, but now I realize that I
can't sit by and watch it happen and do nothing. I'll
live through the apocalypse, but what'll be the point?"

Krycek looked at her as if she'd grown two heads. "You
can't stop the inevitable, Marita. You should know
that by now."

"I'm sorry," she said, tasting defeat before she'd even
gotten started. "I should have known better than to
ask for help from you, of all people." Her voice was
edged with bitterness.

Krycek rose from the bed and began to hunt on the floor
for his clothes.

"I need some fresh air," he said. "I'm going for a
walk." He headed for the door of her room.

Marita couldn't believe that she was being dismissed
this easily. She'd expected an argument from Alex, but
not total disregard. Not after everything they did
last night. She didn't know what to say.

"Look," said Krycek, "even if I wanted to stop
colonization, it can't be done. It'd be like telling
the earth not to spin. You need to get these ideas out
of your head. You're not doing yourself any favors."

Was Alex trying, in his own backward way, to help her?
He almost sounded sincere. Marita was almost touched.

As he started to walk away, Marita found she couldn't
let him leave without a warning, even if he wasn't
going to give her the help she wanted.

"Spender told me that he's sending you to Tunisia,
Alex," she called out before he closed the door to her
room. Krycek turned back toward her. She couldn't
quite make out his face in the gloom of the hallway.
"Be careful. I think it's a trap."

"Tunisia," he said. "Fuck. I hate the heat." Then he
closed the door behind him and she was left alone.

Marita wondered if he'd heed her warning, but there was
no point in worrying about it. She'd have to find a
way to get on without Krycek's help. She was
disappointed, but she told herself that she wasn't any
worse off than she had been before he came.

Marita hugged the pillow Alex had slept on and breathed
in the scent he'd left on it. She felt his absence
already. Damn him for coming back and reminding her of
what she'd been missing.

She threw the pillow across the room. She didn't need
him. Now if she could only convince herself of that.

~~~~~~~~~~

April 2000
Washington D.C.


Spender wasn't happy about letting Marita go to fetch
Krycek, but he didn't have a choice. With his health
failing steadily, the few remaining members of the
Consortium were at loose ends, drifting aimlessly. He
had no one whom he could trust to do the job but her.
Not that he trusted her, either, but she was the best
he could do.

"Don't fail me," said Spender before succumbing to a
fit of coughing. His nurse looked upon Marita with
disapproval, as if she had caused the coughing spasm.
"Don't come back here and tell me he's slipped through
your grasp. Do you hear me?"

Spender looked like a wreck. His emphysema had
progressed to the point where a tracheotomy had to be
performed. He liked to smoke through the opening it
left in his neck. It was a gruesome sight. He was a
gruesome sight. He was holding onto life by sheer
tenacity now.

The old man's sun was setting and Marita couldn't be
more pleased.

"Yes, I hear you," she said. She tried to keep the
distaste out of her voice. She wasn't free of Spender
yet.

Marita knew why Spender wanted Krycek, knew every
detail of his plans. Spender wasn't happy about
sharing his secrets, but he was unable to do many
things himself now, and he was convinced that Marita
wouldn't dare to betray him again.

Which just goes to show, she thought, that there's no
fool like an old fool. Even dying, his body riddled
with cancer, Spender should have known better. He had
given her the keys to end colonization. He was a fool
indeed to suppose for a second that she wouldn't use
the information she'd been given.

Just this one last thing, she thought. One more job
and I can be free of him forever. Nothing could stop
her now. She hoped to enlist Krycek's aid after
ensuring his release, but if he again refused to help
her, even this wouldn't deter her. She was done with
moping around and letting others run her life. Her
life was again about to radically change, this time for
the better.

She was going to engineer a new dawn, a new world
order, and she was hoping to bring Alex along for the
ride. He was useful, he wasn't hard on the eyes, and
it was possible that she might love him. Maybe. She
hadn't quite decided yet. But if he got in her way,
she'd eat him alive. She was in that kind of mood.

~~~~~~~~~~

April 2000
Tunisia


At the prison in Tunisia, the warden introduced himself
and handed Marita a satchel containing Krycek's
belongings. She saw that his arm was in there and felt
a prickle of irritation that they had taken it away
from him. She wondered how long he'd been without it.

"I'll admit that I'm not sad to see him go," the warden
said. "He's been a most...difficult prisoner."

That sounded like Alex. "I want you to take me to
him," she said.

"I wouldn't advise that," said the warden. "There are
rough men in there--thieves, rapists, murderers. Why
don't you wait here and we'll have the prisoner brought
here and placed into your custody?"

Marita shook her head. Krycek had been in prison for
nearly seven months. There was no telling what he'd
try to do once he'd been given his freedom. She
couldn't allow him to give her the slip. "Out of the
question," Marita said. "I don't intend to let him out
of my sight."

The warden looked skeptical. "I'll send you down with
a guard, if you're sure."

"That'll be fine," she said, and stood.

"You should prepare yourself," said the warden as
Marita was about to leave with her escort. "He's very
hostile. He's also cunning and vicious."

She ignored this and followed the guard down into the
bowels of the prison.

When they reached his cell, the guard called for Krycek
to come forward. The first thing Marita noticed was
that he was filthy. He needed a bath, and maybe a flea
dip as well. In general, he looked like hell on a bad
day, and she felt something stir inside of her that
might have been pity and might have been something else
all together.

"Your release has been arranged," she said to him, and
she thought she saw a brief flare of hope in his eyes
before anger clouded them again.

Considering that she was his ticket to freedom, he
didn't seem all that happy to see her. Of course, what
did she expect, for him to jump up for joy and give
thanks that his captor had deigned to set him free?
She'd known he'd be in a shitty mood and still she'd
agreed to do this, and it wasn't merely because it had
allowed her to leave the old man's side.

Marita acknowledged that she wanted to see Alex again.
It was a weakness, but one that she seemed both
powerless and unwilling to overcome. Besides, anger
wasn't the only emotion betrayed by his face. He also
looked as if he could eat her up. Given enough time,
and enough soap and water, she planned on handing him a
spoon. Enlisting Krycek's assistance wasn't the only
thing she came here hoping to do.

"He can't leave in this state," she told the guard.
"He's filthy. Is there somewhere he can clean up?"

* * *

Marita and Krycek were in the bathroom of the her hotel
room. Alex was sitting on the floor, his only clothing
a towel swathed around his hips. In his hand was a
tumbler full of ice and some of the vodka Marita had
managed to smuggle into the country. She sat behind
him, perched on the edge of the tub, wearing one of the
hotel's robes.

When she'd gotten him out of the prison, Krycek had
been a mass of seething anger, but slowly he'd been
cooling off, both figuratively and literally. The
first thing he'd done after stepping inside the hotel
room was to crank the AC to its highest level. Marita
had poured drinks for both of them before getting out
the vast array of chemicals she'd brought with her.
She'd gotten a little bit of everything, not knowing
what shape Alex would be in: shampoo and lotion for
lice, antibiotic ointment, anti-fungal cream, bandages,
the works. She'd felt like a walking pharmacy as she'd
gotten through customs with the help of fifty dollars
and a guard who was willing to look the other way. It
was just as well, though, that she'd been prepared.
She'd ended up using most of what she'd brought.

Disinfecting Alex had taken part up most of the day and
part of the previous night. Marita was almost finished
with him, doing a final check of his hair by running
a metal comb through it. She'd been burning to spill
Spender's secrets to Krycek, but she'd told herself to
wait until he'd had ample time to relax. That he was
able to sit patiently before her and let her groom him
spoke volumes. He was as ready as he'd ever be.

"I think that's all of them," she said, and threw the
comb into the trashcan where it made a metallic ping.
She lightly rested her hands on Krycek's shoulders,
wondering where she should begin.

"You haven't told me," he said, startling her out of
her reverie, "why I've been sprung out of jail. The
old man have a change of heart, or did he need a
flunky?"

"What do you think?" Marita said.

She removed her hands from his shoulders and stood up.
She decided that before she began, she needed another
drink. She left the bathroom and returned a short
while later with a drink in her hand, the ice clinking
gently. "We need to talk," she said.

Marita left the bathroom again, hoping Krycek would
follow. She sat in a chair and drew her knees to her
chest. She took large sips of her drink to try calming
her now jangling nerves. After a few minutes, Krycek
appeared. He'd left the towel behind in the bathroom.
Marita tried not to stare at his body. It wasn't as if
she hadn't seen it before, but as he walked across the
room, the abuse Alex had suffered in the prison was
more evident that it had seemed earlier. She had
bandaged the worst of his abrasions and cuts, but his
bruises stood out starkly, and she could tell that he'd
lost considerable weight.

Marita cleared her throat. "You've got a few more
scars," she said.

He sat on the bed across from her and shrugged. He
didn't seem to want to talk about it.

She'd wanted to have this conversation with Alex for
weeks now, ever since she put all the pieces together,
but now she didn't know where to start. Doubts
assailed her. What if he didn't believe her? What if
he wouldn't help her? Was she as foolish for sharing
this information with Krycek as Spender had been
sharing the information with her? It wasn't too late
to change her mind.

Marita looked at Krycek. She knew he was dangerous,
but she could use his help. More importantly, she
wanted his help. There was another angle to worry
about as well. If she didn't let him in on her plans,
but went through with them anyway, Alex would find out.
He'd see it as just another betrayal by her and she'd
lose him for good this time. She wasn't ready to close
the door on him. Not yet.

Just start, she told herself. Do it.

"I know how to stop colonization," she said in a rush.
"Or at least to halt it for now. We can save the whole
damn planet, Alex. But more than that," she continued,
knowing what he really cared about, "we could hurt
Spender and get rid of Fox Mulder forever."

Krycek said nothing, but at least he looked interested.
It was encouraging.

"Spender is very sick now," she said, "and he isn't
able to guard his secrets as well as he used to. I've
found out a lot, recently. A lot of unbelievable shit.
Spender knows how to stop colonization. The shape
shifters and the grays have been fighting a war
forever. The grays chose Earth as a sort of bunker,
and plan to use humans as foot soldiers."

"I already know that, Marita," he said, impatience to
coloring his voice. "Could you get to the point?"

Marita ignored the interruption. "The rebel aliens
don't want colonization any more than we do, and they
want to take the war elsewhere, but they need something
from us first. Think of it. Having the means to lift
the threat of black oil from the world and refusing to
do so. This was what Spender has done for months, out
of stubbornness and for the love of a woman who
probably hated him."

"What?" Krycek asked. "Do you mean Teena Mulder? What
the hell does she have to do with it?"

"Nothing," said Marita, "except that she loved her only
son very much."

Krycek put down his drink on the bed's nightstand.
"Marita, what the hell were you getting at?"

"Years ago, as part of the bargain they struck with the
colonizing aliens, members of the Consortium gave up
their children to the aliens for experimentation in
exchange for an alien fetus."

"This isn't exactly news," Krycek said.

"Each member had to make a contribution, that's the
important fact," Marita said, standing up and beginning
to pace the room. "We always assumed that Bill Mulder
sent his daughter and Spender sent his wife, but we
were wrong."

"What do you mean? That's what fucking happened."

"No," she said, and a smile spread across her face.
"Think about it, Alex. You know that Samantha Mulder
was actually Spender's child. The aliens did extensive
genetic testing. They discovered that one member of
the group hadn't lived up to his end of the deal.
They demanded the payment they were owed. Both Spender
and Bill Mulder had their reasons for not wanting to
comply with the aliens' demands, but the other
Consortium members overruled them. They told Teena
Mulder that her son was going to school in England.
She never suspected that her only remaining child was
also being given to the aliens."

Krycek had a stunned expression on his face. "Holy
fucking mother of God. Fox Mulder was one of the
abductees?"

"Oh, yes," said Marita. The smile was still on her
face. She could see Krycek working out the details in
his head, piecing things together.

"So he's a goddamned hybrid?" he asked. He seemed
thunderstruck, and then a huge grin spread across his
face. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

Marita nodded. "Or partial hybrid. I'm not sure. He
wasn't with the aliens for very long," she said. "For
the love of Teena Mulder, Spender made sure he was
returned, mostly good as new, with no memory of what
had happened to him. For a while, everyone seemed
happy. Teena had her son back, Bill Mulder had done
his bit for the bargain, and arrangements were made to
enroll Fox into Oxford so neither he nor his mother
would realize that he was missing nearly a year from
his life. Supposedly no one but the Consortium
members knew the truth. Years went by and no one
became the wiser, but I think Teena figured out what
happened. I suspect that's why she became estranged
from both her husband and her lover."

"That," said Krycek, "and they were both grade-A
assholes."

"That, too," agreed Marita with a grin. "Anyway,
Mulder was busy going about his little alien hunting
life, with no idea that how weird the truth really is,
when he showed up on a routine scan performed by the
rebel aliens to check for human hybrids."

"Let me guess," said Krycek. His smile, if possible,
became wider. "They thought they'd offed all the grays'
science projects, but here was one specimen left, still
alive and kicking. They must have been pissed."

"Yeah. They knew there was a hybrid still around, but
they didn't know who it was. A representative from the
rebels contacted Spender. They were certain he would
be able to give them the last hybrid. In exchange,
they promised to make sure that colonization doesn't
happen here."

"So why didn't Spender hand Mulder over? It couldn't
be entirely because of Teena Mulder. I don't buy that
the old man was saving Mulder for sentimental reasons."

"No," said Marita. "Or at least not entirely. I think
that was part of it, but not all. I think it's also
because he's stubborn, and things aren't going his way.
He's dying, and if he can't find a way to save his own
life, he's not above taking everyone else on the planet
with him."

Marita stopped pacing the room and came to stand
directly in front of Krycek. "Okay, Alex, here's where
it gets complicated. About a year ago, Mulder and
Scully stumbled upon that ship that washed up in
Africa. It did something to him, and even Spender
isn't sure what it was, not completely. Spender
theorized that it opened up part of Mulder's brain that
was previously dormant. According to Spender, Mulder
became telepathic. More than that, it changed
something in his brain. Mulder was very sick after
they found the ship in Africa, sick enough to nearly
die. They performed some sort of brain surgery on
Mulder -- I'm pretty sure that it was to try and cure
Spender's cancer and not to save Mulder's life -- but
it went wrong. Or something."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not completely sure," said Marita. She crawled
onto the bed behind Krycek. She put her arms around
his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. "I
don't have a whole lot to go on. Diana Fowley, one of
the few people who knew Spender's plans, or at least
some of them, is dead."

"Now there's a big surprise," said Krycek.

"Tell me about it. Anyway, I think that Spender was
trying to find a cure for his cancer, but whatever it
was, they didn't find it. Spender's been looking for
something to save his life since then and he's had no
luck to date. He's getting very desperate. He thinks
that the aliens are the only ones who can save him."

"So what's this got to do with handing Mulder over to
the aliens?" Krycek asked.

Marita's hands roamed over his chest. "Spender doesn't
want to end colonization. He's interested in only
saving his own life, so he made the rebels a second
offer. He said he would hand over Mulder only if the
aliens cured his cancer. They refused his offer,
telling him that saving his life was beyond their
capabilities. When he heard this, Spender was furious.
He knows approximately where the rebels' ship is
hiding, and he's convinced that the aliens are lying to
him, and that they can cure his cancer. Spender wants
you to find the ship, somehow get aboard, and find
something that will save him."

Krycek barked out a laugh. "Is he nuts? He wants me
to search an alien ship for some mysterious and unnamed
thing that will save his life? You've got to be
kidding me."

Marita laughed softly. "I don't think he'll put it to
you in exactly those terms. He's expecting that you'll
be so grateful to be freed from prison that you'll do
anything for him."

"He's out of his fucking mind if he thinks that," said
Krycek.

"He doesn't have much longer to live," said Marita.
"He's grasping at straws. Anyway, it doesn't matter
because we're going to make sure Mulder gets on that
ship. Spender has been using me as his emissary to the
aliens. I've told them what Spender has planned.
They've agreed to deal with me if I can deliver Mulder
to them."

Unable to resist any longer, Marita lowered her mouth
to Krycek's neck. She bit the skin then licked it, and
was pleased to see him shiver.

"So all we have to do to save the world is give them
Mulder," said Krycek. His hand reached back and
entwined itself in her hair.

"Yeah," Marita said, "like he's a big, shiny present.
It won't be hard, Alex. All we have to do is tell him
that there is a spaceship and you know he'll be the
first in line to get on board. It'll be a piece of
cake. What do you think?"

"I think I want to send Fox Mulder's ass into outer
space," he said. "But in the meantime, I'll settle for
fucking you long and hard." He moved suddenly, rolling
onto the bed and pinning Marita beneath him. She could
feel his erection against her stomach. "What do you
think about that?"

Marita squirmed beneath him, her robe coming undone.
Her arms went around him, pulling his head down for her
to kiss. "I think it's a plan," she said.

Contrary to what he'd said, Alex made love to her
slowly, as if savoring each kiss, each caress. Marita
was overwhelmed, and when she came, she blurted out the
very worst words in the English language. "I love
you." She berated herself for her stupidity and
carelessness.

After the words had come out of her mouth, Krycek
looked into her eyes and smiled. It was a possessive
look, a look of ownership. Marita was frightened by
it, but a little excited as well.

"Good," he said. Only that. Then he rolled out of bed
and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Marita curled into a ball on the bed, drawing her legs
tightly against her chest. She was in love with
Krycek. Her pulse thudded. She was doomed.

~~~~~~~~~~

May 2000
Washington DC


They'd nearly done it.

Marita knew it as soon as Mulder followed Scully out of
the room. There was a look of obligation on his face,
she thought. He followed his partner because it was
his knee-jerk reaction to do so, but what he really
wanted was to hear more about the alien ship. He
wanted it more than he wanted to kill Krycek, wanted it
more than he wanted his cute little partner. His
eagerness was written all over his face.

Marita and Krycek exchanged a glance over the heads of
the three geeks clustered above the maps heaped upon
the table.

They were close now, so very close.

She almost felt sorry for Mulder, but neither she nor
Krycek were forcing him onto the ship. They wouldn't
need to. The person she really felt bad for was the
woman out in the hall. Marita could see clearly that
Scully was in love with Mulder. That was reason alone
to pity her.

Marita knew what it was like to love unwisely. She
looked at Alex again and felt a knife twist in her
heart. A part of her wished she had never seen him
again. This weakness of hers, always wanting the wrong
thing at the right time, might just destroy her in the
end. She felt certain that it was only a matter of
time before he hurt her; it could be weeks or months or
years in the future, but the day would come.

Krycek smiled at her and she knew she was lost. She
feared that he meant, one day, to see her dead. She
hoped that when it came to that, she would have the
strength to kill him first. It seemed she had traded
one type of bondage for another. Or maybe this was
just the inevitable conclusion of meeting him nearly a
decade ago.

She didn't know which was a worse fate: colonization
or losing her heart to Alex Krycek.

She hoped she had made the right choice.

* * *

Spender looked so small to her now.

Could this possibly be the man from whom she cringed in
terror for years? The evil that had sustained him was
concentrated down to a few last drops. He berated both
she and Krycek for failing him, but neither of them
paid him any heed.

Krycek had a look in his eyes that was reminiscent of a
hawk observing a rodent. He was patient, biding his
time, but soon he would swoop down for the kill.

Soon.

Marita expected that Krycek could see the same thing in
her face. Their time had come and they both know it.

Was there fear in the old man's face? Maybe, just
maybe.

Krycek moved to stand behind the wheelchair, eliciting
a protest from his nurse. Perhaps she suspected her
employment was at an end.

"I'm sending the devil back to hell," Krycek said. The
hawk was diving down, the prey was in its sights, the
time was at hand.

"As you do to Mulder and me, you do to all of mankind,
Alex," the old man said. Even to the end, he held to
the old bullshit, the old lies.

Krycek pushed the wheelchair to the edge of the steps
and paused the barest of moments on the precipice
before pushing Spender down, down, down to his death.

Marita stood next to Krycek and watched the old man
fall. The wheelchair banged loudly as it went before
it came to a stop, pinning its former occupant beneath
it. He lay there, very still. Was he dead? she
wondered.

She realized that it didn't matter. They'd won; he'd
lost. Apocalypse was no longer a certainty and all
bets were off. The future stretched out before them,
undetermined and unknowable, as it should be. Anything
seemed possible now, even happy endings.

Marita looked at Krycek. She thought that when the
threat of colonization was gone, she wouldn't need
anything more, but she was wrong. She should have
realized that when one dream comes true, another takes
its place. Now Alex was her impossible dream. Seeing
Spender's broken body, and knowing he had been
vanquished because of her, Marita felt like she could
do anything. In comparison to saving the world, loving
Alex would be easy, wouldn't it? Well, maybe not easy,
but less than impossible. Surely this must be the
case, she hoped.

She decided to look on the bright side. She'd never
been in love before. It would be an adventure, and
what good was any adventure without danger? Loving
Krycek was likely the dumbest thing she'd ever done,
but if she walked out of his life now, she'd never know
what it would have been like if she'd stayed. It was
an opportunity, no matter how foolish, that she could
not pass up.

"Are you ready to go?" Krycek asked.

She nodded.

They walked down the stairs side by side. When they
got to the old man, he was merely an obstacle to cross
and nothing more. As they left, neither one looked
back to the twisted wreckage on the floor.


end

~~~~~~~~~~

Additional notes: This story was a long time in the
writing. I'd like to thank the following people for
their assistance: Tara Avery for giving the green
light to a very early version; S. E. Parsons and M.
Sebasky for tag team beta -- I tried my best to follow
your advice; CazQ for her last minute buff and polish;
and last but not least, Token, for believing in me and
not letting me give up. YV, the drinks are on me.

Kelly Keil

Write me a note to tell me what you thought at
klkeil@buckeye-express.com.