r1-Eli_Anne-p3
Skinner seethed as he stormed up the stairs to Mulder's apartment. He wasn't going to let his wayward agent endanger Kim, Scully, or anybody else. He was going to make sure he got on that flight to Los Angeles if he had to drag that scrawny ass of his to the airport himself.
"Mulder!" he pounded on the door. "Mulder, open this door. You are going to Los Angeles now!" Skinner continued pounding on the door. He finally heard a faint shuffling and the click of the lock.
Skinner was taken aback a little by Mulder's haggard appearance, but he refused to let any sympathy creep in. If Mulder wasn't out in LA by the weekend, he didn't know what Krycek would do.
"Get dressed! I'm personally escorting you to the airport. You are going to help the team in LA or you're fired!"
Skinner watched as Mulder's head seemed to clear. His face turned red.
"Fired! If you only knew what I've been through today. Krycek..." Mulder stopped as Skinner grabbed his arm and dragged in toward his bedroom.
"I don't care what you've been through. Pack." Skinner threw Mulder onto his bed; he stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, staring daggers.
"Fine! I'll go! You suck as an AD, you know that? I know you're a traitor - you're working for Cancerman!"
Skinner stalked over to where Mulder was packing his bag, twirled him around and floored him with a punch.
"Shut up! I'm not going to listen to any more of this. For such a smart man you are very dense. You don't know ANYTHING about me and my situation, so don't you stand there and judge ME!"
Skinner hauled Mulder up by his shirt. "Got it?"
"Yeah, I got it," Mulder mumbled. "Let go of me so I can finish."
Skinner let go of his shirt and returned to his post at the doorway. He watched as Mulder quickly packed.
*********************
Skinner was lost in thought as he drove back from the airport. Mulder hadn't said a word until right before he boarded. Who was HE to threaten me, fumed Skinner. He didn't notice when Krycek crawled out of his trunk through the split seat into the backseat.
"Good job, Skinner. I'm glad you finally got rid of that gadfly."
The car swerved when Skinner heard that voice. He pulled over to the shoulder, slowing his breathing to calm his racing heart.
"You could have gotten us both killed."
"I would have been fine. I'm invincible."
"Yeah, invincible. So that's why you're a little lopsided, right?"
Skinner cried out as Krycek worked the nano control. His body arched in agony as he screamed, his body vibrating, muscles tight as drums. Krycek let up on the control after 15 seconds. As Skinner slumped back into the seat, he moaned and a few tears spilled down his face.
"You'll keep a civil tongue, won't you?"
"Yes," Skinner whispered hoarsely.
"Yes, what?" Krycek turned the controls on for a split second; Skinner's body jerked at the quick bolt of pain.
"Yes, sir." Skinner closed his eyes, clenching his fists in an attempt to control his rage. He didn't know how, but he was going to get his revenge on the young bastard, and it would be painful.
"Now, with Mulder out of the way, you should have no problem meeting with the rebels."
"Yes. Why were you in my trunk, if you don't mind my asking?"
"I wanted to see how you would handle Mulder - someone needs to keep tabs on your incompetent behavior."
"Thanks a lot."
Krycek glanced into the rearview mirror and noticed a couple of Spender's thugs in a car. He had to give it to them, they sure were persistent. He thought he'd lost them when he slipped into Skinner's trunk. He saw them get out of their car and cautiously approach.
"Well, this should be interesting."
"What?" Skinner said, straightening up.
"Nothing we can't handle together."
Skinner looked back at the two dangerous looking men. Great, he thought. Now he was going to be in a standoff, and on Krycek's side!
"Let's get out, big boy," Krycek said, sliding over to get out of the car. Skinner sighed and got out, sliding his gun into the back of his pants.
The two thugs looked at each other when they saw their targets get out of the car. When they had informed the CSM what Krycek had done, he approved the killing of Skinner if it came to that.
Krycek watched as the thug on the left hefted his shotgun to his waist, pointing it at him; the man grinned, showing a large gap between his teeth. The other thug aimed his gun at the AD. He was also smiling, showing a row of baked bean teeth. What TV show was that from? Seinfeld, he thought.
"Krycek, why don't you make this easy on everybody? We have orders to exterminate you and the big fella. You'll make our lives easier if you just put your weapons down. What do you say?" Gaptooth turned to look at Beantooth; they both started laughing.
"The CSM sent you two clowns to get rid of me? I think I'm insulted by that. Aren't you insulted, Skinner?"
Skinner turned to look at Krycek; the young man didn't have any weapon in his good hand. In fact, he was just rocking back and forth on his heels like he was waiting in line at the bank. These thugs didn't look like much, but they did have the drop on them. He didn't say anything.
"Can I ask you a question, Krycek?" Gaptooth asked. "Smokey told us to burn your bodies after we killed you. No, he said incinerate them. Why would we have to do that?" He started laughing again, approaching a little closer. Krycek was a very slippery target, so he wanted to make sure he wouldn't miss.
"I can tell you why," Krycek answered. Skinner turned again, startled at the change in Krycek's voice. It sounded, well, inhuman. Those beautiful green eyes were gone; in their place Skinner saw two swirling black pools.
"That smelly bastard is the only one who knows my true power, that's why. Would you like a little demonstration?" He started walking slowly toward the two men.
The two thugs backed up a few steps, suddenly very afraid of those black eyes.
Krycek stopped, dropping his black leather jacket on the ground. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt; with the jeans, he looked like a very dangerous James Dean. Despite his fear, Skinner couldn't help notice the tight body under that shirt. Krycek had a perfect V-shaped torso, slender and muscled. Just like I like 'em, thought Skinner.
"Hey, your fake arm is dangling," Gaptooth said quietly, his voice shaking.
"Is it? I guess I'll just have to take it off." Krycek reached over to detach the arm; he threw it over the side of the embankment. "I won't be needing it anymore."
The three men watched in horror as the stump of Krycek's arm started boiling; black, oily bubbles formed and popped continuously. Krycek cried out as a tentacle of black oil formed and started stretching impossibly long, whipping back and forth in the air.
The tentacle reached toward Beantooth and wrapped around his neck; the struggling hit man couldn't get a grip on the oily appendage as it squeezed the breath out of him. Krycek lifted the man four feet into the air, flipped him over, and then slammed his head back onto the ground. The man's skull split open; blood and other unspeakable fluids poured out of the gap.
Gaptooth screamed and dropped his shotgun. The tentacle receded into an arm-length appendage squirming below the stump. It solidified into a perfect match to Krycek's left arm.
"See?" Krycek said quietly, pulling a knife out of his pocket with his new arm. Skinner couldn't even see the new arm it moved so fast. In just a split second Gaptooth had a large Bowie knife protruding out of his left eye. He stumbled around for a moment, weakly reaching for the knife. He fell to his knees, then flat to the ground. He had fallen face first into the dirt. On impact, the knife drove deeper into his head and the tip protruded out of the back of his neck.
Skinner dropped his gun from his nerveless hand. He stared in alarm and disbelief at the creature he had thought was Krycek. Krycek walked nonchalantly over to the thug, flipped him over, and pulled his knife out of the skull. He had to put a foot on the guy's head to remove it; his new arm had such strength it was deeply embedded. He looked at the knife for a moment, then began licking it clean.
Skinner stumbled over to the grassy area and vomited up his lunch. He didn't think he would ever stop the heaves. He sat back on his heels when he regained control. He turned to see Krycek watching him patiently.
"Are you ready to go yet?"
"What the hell are you!?" Skinner shouted, backing away.
"Didn't Mulder ever tell you about...now what do you humans call it?...the black oil? The 'oilien'? That's my favorite."
"Where's the real Krycek?"
"Oh, I am the real Krycek. I'm using this delicious little body of his to get my work done. He's inside here, cowering in the corner like a little baby. He really liked that little snack I just had. He is the best host I've ever had. Much better than that poor excuse for an agent you call Mulder - he's too on edge and frankly, too unhealthy. All that trash he eats!"
"Y...y...you've been in Mulder, too?"
"I've used a lot of people, but I think I'm going to keep this one. I've had him for quite a while, and we're really getting along great."
Skinner shook his head in disbelief. Mulder really knew how manipulate his reports; he never explained the black oil this way.
"What are you going to do to me?" Skinner asked, looking back at the corpses.
"Nothing. Nothing has changed - you'll still do as your told. It's always been me you've worked with anyway. You're going to act as if none of this happened, OK?" The alien growled menacingly as he grabbed the AD to emphasize his point. Skinner groaned when he realized it was the new arm, the dangerous arm, that was cutting off the circulation in his right arm.
"Yeah, OK, I can live with that." This was really getting dangerous; now he knew why the blood samples had been contaminated. It was the alien! Thank goodness he had saved those slides.
"You're going to drive me to my next appointment, Skinner. I have a little unfinished business with a certain smoky bastard." He propelled Skinner to the driver's side of his car. Skinner acted on autopilot as he started the car and drove back to the city.
Krycek sat in the passenger seat staring out the window. Skinner continued to snatch glances at him; the blackness was gone from his eyes, but that new arm really made him nervous.
How long had this thing been controlling Krycek? It had to have been after the balcony incident because this monster would have snapped the handcuffs like toothpicks. It was definitely the alien controlling the nanos. Despite his anger at Krycek's initial betrayal, he couldn't leave the young man like this. When he got back, he'd call Scully and spill the entire story of him and Krycek, the nanos, everything. It was risky, but she was a doctor and maybe she could come up with a cure. In the meantime, he would still follow the alien's instructions.
"Drop me off here," Krycek said. He got out of the car and leaned back in. "Remember your responsibilities, Skinner, and do as you're told, or you'll feel my wrath like those two back on the highway."
"Yes, sir," Skinner replied, avoiding Krycek's eyes.
"I'm going to go have a little talk with Spender."
"Great." Skinner peeled back into the street, trying to put as much distance as he could between him and that thing.
The alien watched as Skinner dashed off. He grinned; everything was going as planned. Spender's little attempt wasn't much to worry about. And now that Mulder was actually on a plane to LA, he'd be more hell-bent then ever to get back to Springfield and the other case. Yes, everything was working out just right.
Deep inside his mind, Krycek could feel his fear and disgust finally subsiding. He slipped into a deep despair at everything that had happened. The only hope he felt was that now that Skinner knew the truth, maybe his ordeal could soon be over. The AD was sure to kill him now, and he would be free forever.
Krycek felt the alien laugh as it read his thoughts. His despair grew into a black void that threatened to swallow him forever. Would no one help him?
Tarlan's turn.