Double Indemnity
Round Two

Mulder wavered when Alex moaned quietly, ground out an emphatic "Yes!", and arched against him. That voice of Krycek's, that silky-soft, smooth as fine brandy, rough as sandpaper voice, was doing unimaginable things to his equilibrium. He had a brief, almost fully-formed thought that the kitchen might not be the most romantic place in the world for his first time with... Jesus, he was about to... With...

There went his balance again. Luckily, Alex and the counter held him up preventing his ending up in an embarrassing heap on the floor. Further, Mulder's slightly slumped posture put them at a height, perfectly positioned for kissing. And grinding their hips together.

The last time Mulder had come in his trousers like a teenager, he'd *been* a teenager. A trip down that particular section of memory lane didn't appeal right then, so he pulled away from the kiss with a soft sound of promise and comfort at Alex's of protest.

"We're over-dressed," Mulder said in an attempt to apologize, soothe and explain without wasting too much of the oxygen that had suddenly become scarce for no apparent reason. "Skin, Alex. I want skin."

"Jesus," Alex breathed, reaching with trembling fingers for the hem of Mulder's shirt.

Attention fixed on opening the fly of Alex's jeans, Mulder only reluctantly stopped long enough to let the damned thing fall down over his wrists and off of him. The second it was out of his way, he completed his task and yanked the worn denim down lean thighs so he had an unobstructed view of... Alex's cock. He wanted it. Alex's cock. Wanted it in his hand, his mouth, his ass. Whatever, wherever, however. He really didn't care, he only knew that he wanted it and he wanted it right fucking then.

Mulder was profoundly grateful that Alex managed to get his pants out of the way before their bodies collided again. But still, something wasn't quite right. He frowned in thought, opening his hands against Alex's back, just above the waist. And that was it, Alex still wore his t-shirt. Intent on removing the cotton barrier, he had the fabric rucked up under Alex's armpits before he had a chance to consciously send his muscles to do so. There was a small, nearly imperceptible change in Alex's stance, but Mulder noticed it immediately. He paused in his effort to remove Alex's shirt and pulled back just enough to study the other man curiously.

Dark eyelashes lowered the tiniest bit more. Gaze firmly affixed to a spot on the far wall. The tiniest slant of Alex's body, left shoulder pulled back ever so slightly.

The arm. Fuck. He'd forgotten. What the hell could he say...?

Mulder's smoooth ways with romance notwithstanding, as the words spilled out of his mouth, he thought that he'd finally, for once, actually stumbled across the right thing to say:

"This," he said softly, ghosting my hand down his prosthesis, "this doesn't matter."

His other hand moved to Alex's chest, opening so that the palm lay atop a thundering heart. "*This* matters."

"This," Mulder groaned, hips pushing forward so that their erections pressed against each other. "Ahhh - this matters, Alex."

"You're beautiful to me. You always were."

Green eyes flicked back to meet hazel for a beat, before returning their attention to the apparently fascinating wall behind Mulder.

"Dammit, Alex," Mulder said, frustrated. "Even when I hated you, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. How can I... What do I say to make you understand? After all these years, can't you see that who you are is far more important to me that what you look like. I don't care if you gain weight or lose a little hair. I don't care, Alex, how many fucking arms you have. I. Just. Want. You."

Alex sighed, a little of that awful tension drained from him, but he still wouldn't meet Mulder's eyes. "Alex?" Carefully, he put two fingers against Alex's jaw, gently urging him to look at Mulder instead of the fucking wall. "Alex, look at me. Don't hide from me. Please, Alex, don't hide."

Hindsight being twenty-twenty, Mulder later realized what he'd to trigger Alex's reaction. At the time, though...

***

Running, he's running as fast as he can and his head is pounding, his lungs are burning and he doesn't recognize anything, doesn't know where he is, he only knows that there was blood, so much blood, and he has to get away.

He has to *HIDE*.

***

Alex collapsed to his knees. Awkwardly, Mulder followed him down, somehow folding his length around Krycek to end up squashed between the cabinet behind him and the shaking, panting, clutching form of his ex-partner, current almost-lover, and all around pain in his ass.

Gasping for air, Alex kept muttering, "Hide, hide, *hide*," interspersed with the occasional "Mulder".

Unable to come up with a better short term plan, Mulder tightened his arms around Alex and whispered his best soothing inanities into Alex's ear.

***

His side hurts, breathing is getting harder, he really needs to find a place to hide and why doesn't he know where the fuck he is? He stumbles to a halt, shrinking into the shadows and looks around and, yes, he knows that street. Knows where he is and remembers that he has a bolthole two blocks over, so he heads in that direction, always keeping to the shadows, silently working his way through backyards and over fences until he's there. In through the back door - how does he know the security PIN? - and up the stairs to the second floor. One quick manipulation of a wall sconce, then he walks down a passage, up a narrow flight of stairs, another passage, and through a door concealed behind a fireplace and he's safe. He's hidden. He knows this, is absolutely sure of it.

He collapses of the camp bed, curls into a fetal position and quietly whimpers one word, "Alex."

***

"Jesus," Alex gasped, jerking in Mulder's arms.

"Hey," Mulder said quietly. "Welcome back."

After a moment's silence, Alex lowered his head to rest on Mulder's shoulder. He sighed. "It happened again."

"That two places at once thing?"

"Yeah, and... Shit, Mulder, we have to go. We have to go now."

Before Mulder could react, Alex was on his feet and gathering their clothes together. "Get dressed. I know where I - he - we - fuck! - went."

"Here," his quickly discarded clothing was shoved unceremoniously into his hands. "Get dressed, Mulder. We have to go..."

"Alex?"

"Uh?"

"Two questions," Mulder said quietly, pulling his shirt over his head. "Where exactly are we going? And, what do you mean 'we'."

Impatiently, Alex tucked his shirt in, closed his jeans and grabbed his leather jacket. "No time, Mulder. I don't know how long we have. C'mon, I'll explain in the car."

He'd never seen Krycek so rattled and the sight made Mulder more than a little uneasy. Nevertheless, he followed Alex up to the garage.

"Where to?" Mulder asked once he'd back out of the sheltered space.

"Georgetown."

"Georgetown." Mulder repeated. It wasn't a question, more of an attempt to convince himself that he'd heard correctly.

"Yeah, yeah. Georgetown. ----- street." After a short pause, he continued, "I have a bolthole in one of those old homes."

"Ooookay." Dubiously. "Georgetown it is, then."

They rode in silence for a few minutes, until Mulder's curiosity got the better of him. "Alex? Can you... I need for you to tell me what's going on."

After several false starts, Krycek delivered a hurried but concise summary of what he'd experienced. To his credit, Mulder listened quietly without interruption. Something warned him that an ill-judged question would bring the low-voiced explanation to an end.

"... I recognized where we were and got us to my bolthole. I've never used it before, so we should be safe. If we stay there..."

"Alex, you keep saying 'us' and 'we'. What? I... do you *know* who this is?"

"Yes... no... not exactly, Mulder." Alex reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I think - no, I know that I know him. There's something... I kinda seem to um, recognize this guy's mind. I... I don't know, Mulder. Somehow, he's familiar to me."

"Alex? Tell me you aren't telepathic." Wouldn't *that* be a kick in the ass?

"I... I don't think I am," Alex said slowly. "This hasn't happened with anyone else."

"Thank god for small favors," Mulder mumbled under his breath.

They parked on a side street and carefully made their way to a very old, majestic home.

"Jesus, Alex! Here?"

"Uh huh."

"How the hell... Never mind." Odds were he really didn't want to know, so Mulder dropped that line of questioning.

Mulder looked at Alex, hesitating very uncharacteristically at a brick fireplace which they'd come to after one trip through a hidden door, a couple of narrow halls and one flight of stairs.

"I don't... I... "

"You can do this, Alex. We have to find out what's going on."

A heavy sigh, a straightening of shoulders, and Alex met Mulder's concerned gaze. "Okay, then. Let's do it." With a dexterous move, he manipulated a brick, and a hidden door swung open.

"Ever consider a career in writing, Alex?" Mulder joked weakly. "Hidden doors and secret passages... You should be writing gothic novels."

Stepping back, Alex cleared his throat. "Would you...? I don't think I can..."

"I'll go in first."

Inside of the small room, they could just barely make out the shape of a body curled up on a cot in the corner. Alex reached up and pulled firmly down on the string hanging from the light fixture above flooding the room with light.

The man on the bed scrambled to his feet and backed quickly away from them. Mulder caught his breath in shock and Krycek moved past him, taking up a stance between Mulder and the stranger.

"Who," Krycek and the stranger, his exact double, growled at each other, "the fuck are *you*?"

They wore matching expressions of warning, but the stranger's eyes, Mulder realized, held a hint of not-quite sanity. He laid one hand on Alex's shoulder. "Careful."

The stranger's eyes unfocused for a second, he blinked, then stared at Alex with disbelief. "Alex?" he questioned dazedly. "Is that you?"

With a strength that didn't really come as a surprise, Alex's hand reached up and closed over Mulder's. He backed up one step, bringing himself into closer contact with Mulder. Jerkily, he nodded at the man that held an uncanny resemblance to him.

All of the air seemed to leave the stranger's body in one explosive breath. "Finally! So many years, Alex. God, I've been looking for so long."

"Who the hell *are* you?"

"I'm Anson. Please, Alex, tell me that you remember me," Anson begged with desperate intensity.

Before Alex could voice a response, Mulder's cell rang loudly. All three men jumped at the unexpected sound. "'S okay," Mulder breathed. "Just my cell phone."

"Yeah, Mulder," he said into the reciever.

"When can you make it into the office, Agent?" Skinner barked into his ear.

"Uh, I'm not sure, sir. Something... came up, and... er... I thought we'd agreed I would see you in the morning."

Yes, well, that was before the Director phoned me wanting to know why he'd had a call from the DoJ in the middle of the night. Scully is already on her way here, I have a team searching for Krycek, and I need you to come in. Now."

"I... um... Can you give me 45 minutes, sir?"

"Mulderrr," Skinner growled in warning.

"Please, Skinner. I'll come in but... I really need a few minutes to wrap things up here."

"Shit! Fine, Agent Mulder. I'll give you your 45 minutes. No longer, though."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate this."

"Just don't keep me waiting any longer."

"I won't, sir," Mulder promised hurriedly.

Skinner broke the connection and Mulder turned to meet Alex's eyes. "Skinner," he explained unnecessarily. "I have to go in, Alex. See if I can accomplish a little damage control, find out exactly what they know, and give us a little more time."

"Shit," Alex breathed. "Okay, Mulder. You go on. I'll - we'll stay here until you get back."

Together, they turned to look at the stranger - Anson. He was still staring at Alex with an expression of awe and wonder. "Alex," he whispered.

Then he staggered, fell back onto the bed, and curled up in a ball again. "Alex. So long. Missed... Searched, Alex. Always... searching..." his eyelashes fluttered down. "Alex..." he slurred before appearing to fall asleep.

Mulder saw the plam flicker out. "Wait," he said to Alex. "You don't know."

"I'm going to see," Alex said. He knelt on the bed and extracted a hand from the ball of flesh curled around itself on the bed. He pricked a finger deftly and stared as the red blood welled from the violated skin.

Anson jerked his hand away with a whimper. He lashed out, stopping as his eyes and brain came into play. "Alex, my Alex," he whispered, before closing his eyes again. His hand had caressed Alex's cheek leaving a bloody streak from the small wound Alex had made.

Mulder moved forward to get a closer look. The man had to be either some new type of clone, a perfected version, or Alex had a twin that he didn't seem to know about. Alex might be a creature of deceit but Mulder strongly felt that Alex's earlier reactions were genuine. He could tell when Alex was lying. God knows, he and Alex were like mirror images of each other, closer than twins and joined by their dual nature. He believed that Alex was surprised by this creature's appearance.

The man on the bed was a little heavier than Alex was. His complexion was lighter, almost pearl white as if he had spent a long time out of the sun. A crude tattoo marked his arm.

Spotting the man's jacket on the floor, Mulder said, "I'm going to have a look. Alex, you don't happen to have any disposable gloves around here?"

Alex was still frozen in place. His eyes were wide and he was pale. Mulder had never seen the man so stunned. Usually, Alex's reactions were hair trigger.

"Alex? Gloves?" Mulder repeated.

Going to a chest, Alex produced a well-stocked first aid kit. He pulled out a box of gloves and handed a pair to Mulder.

"Thanks," Mulder said, snapping the latex over his hands.

The jacket wasn't something Alex would ever have worn. It was a well-used cloth jacket in lumberjack plaid. Mulder pulled out a handful of small bills, some change, some candy wrappers, an assortment of condoms, and some small packets of lube. In another pocket, Mulder found a bloodstained switchblade. He said, "Looks as if this guy is responsible for the killing you've been accused of."

Glancing at the switchblade, Alex said, "Guy must be an idiot. He should have made an effort to remove the blood and disposed of it where no one could find it."

"Not up to your standards?" Mulder commented. "Gee, too bad, your brother isn't as well trained a killer as you are."

"Fuck you," Alex retorted, "He's not my brother. I don't know him."

Sweat pooled above Alex's lips. His eyes darted around the room as if looking for an escape. He looked as near breaking as he had when Mulder ran into him in Hong Kong. Mulder wondered what was going on. Why wasn't Alex handling this situation in his usual calculating manner?

"Seems to me that we could solve a lot of your problems by turning this guy in," Mulder said. "You might even be able to pin some of the other things you've been accused of on him."

"No!" Alex said, whirling around to stand between Mulder and the bed where his twin curled. His lip curled in a savage snarl. His eyes narrowed. He looked like a mother lioness standing over her cubs.

Softly, every profiling instinct kicking in, Mulder said, "Look at yourself, Alex. Why do you want to protect him?"

"I don't," Alex claimed, shaking his head.

"Alex...don't lie to yourself. You can lie to me, but when you can't even admit the truth to yourself, you're in real trouble," Mulder said. He glanced at his watch to make sure he was going to make it to Skinner's meeting before the deadline his boss had given him.

"I don't know him," Alex said. He glanced at the man on the bed and said, "But I feel connected."

"He called you 'Alex' and he certainly knew you," Mulder said. "He said his name is Anson. Think about it. Have you heard that name?"

Brow furrowing, Alex sat on the bed. Anson gravitated toward him in his sleep, his hand making contact. After he touched his twin, the stranger who looked like Alex sighed and uncurled from his protective knot.

"Maybe," Alex said. "I remember when I was young. I used to spy on Spender. I was hiding in Spender's office. Some woman reported to him. She said that Anson was in the children's hospital and what did Spender want done with him. Spender was pissed off. He said she should do nothing. He muttered about 'defective gene pool wasn't his' and told her to keep an eye on the boy."

"Defective gene pool?" Mulder repeated. "So Anson might be a clone after all? A failed experiment?"

"I don't know?" Alex replied. He twisted to look at Anson again.

Mulder's cell phone rang. Glancing at the screen, Mulder saw Skinner's number. "Shit," Mulder exclaimed.

"Yeah? I still have twenty-nine minutes," Mulder said. "I'll be in."

"You better be," Skinner said.

With a toss of his head, Alex said, "Walter likes to keep you on a tight leash, doesn't he?"

"What's the problem?" Mulder asked. "Jealous? Don't worry. If I wanted to fuck with my boss, he'd be my bald bitch at the end of my leash, not the opposite."

Alex smirked at the thought.

"Just make sure that Anson stays put," Mulder said. "I'll search the FBI data base for our little friend. Maybe he makes a habit of stabbing strangers on the street."

"All right, Mulder," Alex said.

"I really mean it. Stay put. I know you don't trust anyone, but it's in your best interests to let me help you," Mulder said.

"Okay, but why is it in your interest to help me? You think I'm that good a fuck?" Alex asked.

"I think you might be," Mulder said, thinking with disappointment about what Alex's connection with Anson interrupted.

Alex's eyes flickered again. He said, "I won't whore myself to you to get you to help me."

Repressing his anger at that comment, Mulder said, "I didn't get the impression that you were reluctant back there. If that's what you think, don't worry. I won't touch you again until you ask me for it. I'm helping you because I believe in justice. I know you didn't kill Spender."

"Mulder?" Alex said. He lowered his eyes and his shoulders slumped. "Mulder, I didn't mean what I said. Thanks for helping me. If there's anyone in the world that I want to trust, it's you. It's always been you. I'm just not good at it. Spender taught me when I was barely old enough to go to school that everything has a price. That if you hurt someone enough, they'll do anything, say anything to make it stop."

Shit. What kind of life had Alex Krycek led? Mulder suddenly was grateful for his own miserable childhood. Perhaps it hadn't been the Brady Bunch, but he had the semblance of a normal life.

A quicksilver connection ran through Mulder's brain. He said, "Alex, wait a minute. You said barely old enough to go to school? You told me that you grew up in a boarding school. What's the first thing you remember? When did you meet Spender?"

Alex's eyes darkened as he thought. He finally said, "I don't know. I always lived at the school. Spender was always showing up to inspect me."

"Nothing before that? Nothing before five or six?" Mulder probed.

"No, but it's not a big deal. Lots of people can't remember their early childhood," Alex said.

"Do you remember a mother? A father?" Mulder asked.

"I..." Alex begin. He stopped. His expression twisted as if he was in pain. "I can't. I don't know. I never met them. Never knew them. Who the fuck needs a mother? They just hurt you."

"Listen to yourself," Mulder said. "There's something there. We can find it."

"Leave my brain alone! Don't profile me!" Alex shouted, standing up and shoving Mulder so hard that he nearly fell head over heels.

There was not much room to run in the small hiding hole. Alex looked as if he was about to scuttle away out the door. Mulder shook his head. Damn, if there was just more time, he felt sure that he could get those buried memories out.

Mulder looked at his watch and said, "Fuck."

"Alex, I'll be back. Stay. Stay here," Mulder said to Alex's back.

"Yeah," Alex said as he turned around. He avoided Mulder's eyes as he went to sit on the cot with his brother.

Other than handcuffing Alex to his twin and chaining them both to the bed, that was the best that Mulder could do.

OooOooO

The familiar routine of entering the Hoover building calmed Mulder. He wore his usual mask by the time he entered Skinner's office. Scully was already present, a file folder open on her lap.

"You're five minutes late," greeted Skinner.

"Caught in traffic," Mulder said. "I didn't realize that so many people would be on the road this early in the morning... and I haven't been to bed yet..." / Though it wasn't for want of trying / ... and, you know, I was supposed to be on my own time."

"When you signed on as an FBI agent, you lost the right to say that," Skinner said. "Your time is only your time until we need you."

"I knew I should have joined something with a union," Mulder quipped.

"Where have you been?" Scully demanded, sounding more like an irate spouse than a partner.

"Meeting with an informant," Mulder said.

"Another of your mysterious men in black?" Scully asked.

"Black does suit my informant," Mulder said. "Looks damn good in it."

Scully's frown was Mulder's reward. He wasn't sure what she would do if she knew whom Mulder had been meeting. Whom he had been kissing, Mulder thought, still tasting Alex on his lips.

"Agent Mulder, Alex Krycek is in the city. He's already killed again. Killed a man whom we both know. You could be in danger," Skinner said. "The man's obsessed with you."

"Krycek's had plenty of chances to kill me," Mulder said. "Why don't you fill me in?"

"Spender called and said that he had important information for me," Skinner said. "He said that you were in over your head again and that he would explain what he meant in person."

Shit. Mulder blinked and composed his face again. He immediately suspected that Spender was onto Alex. He must have found out that Alex was supplying him with information. Who else might have known? Even Alex might not be able to evade the FBI, the DC police, and the Consortium looking for him.

Mulder smiled as he thought 'Krycek, everyone want him and I have him.'

"Something amuses you about this?" Skinner asked in the voice of a teacher about to keep an unruly student after class.

"No, sir, I was just thinking that anything Spender wanted to tell you was not in my best interests," Mulder said. "Why would you listen to a man like that?"

"Because he had the power to screw with our lives," Skinner replied.

"Why don't you just tell Mulder what happened?" Scully said.

Eyes flickering between Mulder and Scully, Skinner finally gave into Scully's urging. He said, "We had only exchanged a few words when I saw Alex Krycek. He walked right past us as if he didn't know us. I ran a few steps after him, yelled at him, and he turned around. I wasn't sure what was going on, but Spender seemed surprised and angry to see him. Spender grabbed at him. Krycek went wild, drew a switchblade, and butchered the old man before I could stop him."

Mulder didn't quite buy that. He knew how fast Skinner could and did react. Desk work hadn't slowed the man much. He said, "That's not very like Krycek, Sir."

"What are you saying? Is this another of your theories? You think this was one of your clones or shape shifters?" Skinner asked, his voice disdainful.

"Think about it, Sir. Has Krycek ever committed a crime in front of a witness? The man we know could handle an old man like Spender without killing him. What did this man you saw say?"

"I don't know," Skinner said. He scowled. "Nothing. He just panicked when Spender grabbed him. The knife came out and he killed him. What makes you think it wasn't Krycek?"

"I know it wasn't Krycek and I can prove it," Mulder said.

"I thought you would be the first one to want Krycek," Skinner said.

Skinner's voice almost sounded hurt. Mulder knew that Krycek had screwed with Skinner at every opportunity. Now he thought that Alex must have had a reason, but that would be difficult to explain to Walter Skinner.

"Walter," Mulder said, putting as much warmth as possible into the words. "As much as you want to see Krycek punished for things that he has done, do you want him punished for something he didn't do? Put me on this case. Let me find the truth."

There was a long silence as Skinner processed the request. At last with a ragged breath, Skinner said, "All right, it's yours. I haven't identified Krycek by name so far. I didn't want to alert his friends that we looking for him. You can have the case, but the FBI isn't the only agency looking for Krycek. The murder falls under the jurisdiction of the Washington DC police. It's a matter of time before they put a name on the man I described."

"Thank you, Sir," Mulder said. He knew Skinner tried to do the right thing. However, he also knew that Skinner had his reasons for hating Krycek. It would be a test of Skinner's friendship to see how far he would support Mulder in this case.

"I'm going to check the FBI database," Mulder said.

Scully's brisk heel steps trotted down the hall after him. "Mulder, Mulder, wait up!"

Mulder stopped, stared at the floor, and shook his head. He cared about Scully, but this was not something she would ever understand. Hell, Mulder had never wanted too look closely at the passion he felt for Alex Krycek. Now the truth was kicking him in the balls. He knew what he wanted. He knew whom he wanted.

"What, Scully?" Mulder asked, staring down at his partner's concerned face.

"I don't understand," Scully said. "If Skinner was an eyewitness to Krycek killing Spender, why are you questioning him?"

"The truth, Scully, that's what we're about," Mulder said.

"Does this have something to do with your informant?" Scully asked.

"I have a lot of research to do before I'm ready to answer any more questions," Mulder answered. "Do me a favor, Scully. Make sure that the man who was killed was Spender, not a clone or a look alike. We have blood samples preserved from when he was shot. Compare them with the blood from the victim."

Scully looked as if she wanted to argue. Mulder said, "Scully, you know nothing is as it seems when we're dealing with men like Spender. Do it for me."

His earnest request worked its wiles on his partner. Scully said, "All right, Mulder, I just hope you know what you're doing."

Mulder shared the sentiment. He was the last one to trust his emotions. At least, not any emotions that impelled him toward a relationship with his old enemy. His intelligence told him to keep away from Alex. His rage reminded him that he had been betrayed before, but he couldn't repress what was between them any longer. There was no hiding from the connection, from the inextricable relationship as Mulder had once described it. In fact, Mulder didn't want to resist. He wanted to give in to his fervor, but first he had to prove that Alex hadn't killed Spender, hopefully without betraying that Alex was his source. If the project knew for sure that Alex was talking to him, Mulder was afraid that he would go the way of Mr. X and Deep Throat. There had to be a way to clear Alex without betraying his recent role in Mulder life.

Thinking of Alex's reaction to Anson, Mulder was sure that he couldn't just get Alex out of this by accusing Anson. Krycek had become irrational at the suggestion that they turn Anson into clear his name. Although Mulder was sure that Anson had killed Spender, he wanted to know why. From the scene that Skinner described, Anson must have known Spender. Mulder felt it had to be a connection to the early childhood that Alex could not remember.

Logging into the FBI database, Mulder set up the search perimeters. Anson was not a common name. Between that and the clear physical description, Mulder was sure he could find a record for Alex's twin if he had one.

OooOooO

Back at Alex's hiding place in the historic home, Alex felt his skin crawl. He usually endured the necessity of cramped quarters better than this despite his experience in the silo. Although he had always been claustrophobic, a condition that had worsened after being left to die in the darkness, Alex had used behavior modification and desensitization to learn to combat his hysterical reactions to being confined in cramped quarters. His money had bought the services of a psychotherapist who could deliver the behavior modification he needed with no questions asked. Damned if Alex would allow a weakness that Spender and the other kindly old men could and would use against him. Still, he hated this inactivity and worried that Mulder would change his mind. Once Mulder was in the cool light of the FBI and in the company of Skinner and Scully, he would change his mind about helping Alex.

Alex wouldn't count on sexual attraction preventing Mulder from betraying him. Up to now, Alex's experiences were that the sooner a lover got what he or she wanted from him, the sooner they would betray him. If he let Mulder in his pants, the FBI agent wouldn't have any more reason to help him. Alex knew that was the way the world worked. Despite feeling that Mulder was different, somebody incredibly special, Alex didn't trust the man to continue to help him.

Anson stirred on the bed, waking with a whimper. He looked frightened and dangerous until his frantic eyes found Alex. He smiled when he saw him.

"You going to tell me who the hell you are? Why you look like me?" Alex said.

His twin gazed at him as if devouring him. Anson's hungry looks at Alex were familiar but didn't seem sexual. The guy was nuts, Alex decided.

"What did the bad man do to you that you don't remember me?" Anson asked.

"Why should I remember you?" Alex said. His head burned and he felt as if he needed to get as far away from Anson as he could. At the same time, Anson felt so familiar, like a missing part of him. Alex rejected the thought. If he could recover from losing his arm, he sure in hell did not need some lunatic as baggage.

"Man, he must have really worked a number on you," Anson replied. "You're my brother."

"Bullshit," Alex said. "Yeah, I see we look alike, but there are plenty of reasons why that could be. You're probably just some long forgotten cell sample that shouldn't be walking around on its own."

"If that's what you think, they have you on the wrong meds," Anson said. "You're my twin brother. You should remember that. I remember it perfectly. You have to remember Papa! You loved him just like I did. He was a fireman. I was going to be a fireman and you were going to be a cop. Don't you remember the time we ran away from Mom when Dad was working? We went to find the firehouse, but it was too far away. The nice policeman found us. We had ice cream and candy. The policeman gave us toy bears and we stayed with him until Papa came."

That all rang a bell now. Alex remembered that he had a bear at one point. Spender had taken it and thrown it in the fireplace, saying he wasn't a baby anymore. Alex had kept the one eye that had fallen on the floor and hadn't been burned. He still had it someplace.

Feeling sick, Alex asked, "So what happened? How did we get separated? What happened to our parents?"

"Our Papa died in a fire," Anson said, brushing away a tear. "Mama... Mama wasn't right in the head. Don't you remember?"

Nothing clicked in Alex's head, but he felt visceral fear, a bone deep terror in response to his brother's words. As hard as he tried, Alex couldn't recall any part of his early childhood.

"The man I killed used to visit Mama when Papa wasn't home. He was her father, but he wasn't like the grandfathers on the TV shows. He wasn't very nice," Anson said. "Papa didn't like him. He hated the cigarettes. After Papa died, Mama let the bad man take you. She wanted him to take me too, but the bad man said I was weak, not strong like you. He left and, after I didn't have you anymore, it wasn't safe. I had to...the man Mama married did very bad things to me, Alex. I had to do it."

"Do what, Anson?" Alex asked.

Before Anson could answer, the security monitor that Alex had installed blinked fiercely. Alex said, "Shit, someone's looking for us. I thought no one knew about this place. Anson, you need to do exactly what I say. Come on!"

OooOooO

Mulder put his glasses on after the first ten minutes of checking through the database. Although he had never met anyone named Anson, it was more common than he thought it was.

There was an Anson who was a teacher and musician in Portland, Oregon. Another worked with literacy projects. Yet another played professional hockey.

Finally, Mulder found the correct search terms and the screen brought up an Anson who was a dead ringer for Alex. Only this Anson had supposedly died in a fire at a state hospital for the criminally insane. The man had been suspected of shooting his mother and stepfather when he was eight. Too young to put on trial, the boy had been placed in a children's psychiatric hospital until pronounced cured as a teenager. He had managed to enlist in the marines, but was given a dishonorable discharge after assaulting a noncommissioned officer. He had disappeared into mediocrity for a brief time other than some interventions due to mental health episodes, followed by violations of a restraining order placed on him by his ex-wife. A few years ago, Anson had killed a cop. Later, still fleeing that charge, Anson Green had held an entire locked psychiatric ward hostage. After killing an attendant during the incident, Anson had been put on trial for the cop killing. He had collapsed in the holding area and had gone catatonic. Recently, the hospital had caught on fire. Several patients had died including supposedly Anson Green.

Mulder assumed it was a cover-up. The hospital was under investigation for safety violations and probably didn't want it known that a dangerous inmate had escaped. In any event, he knew who Anson Green was now.

Standing up, Mulder grabbed his coat. He had to get to Alex and protect him from Anson Green.

As Mulder pulled up to the historic house, he saw men in suits lingering outside. He had parked in an alley and as he hesitated, he heard a hiss and Alex's voice said, "Mulder, Mulder, let's go. Let's get the hell out of here."

Given the choice, Anson Green didn't seem as dangerous as the men stalking Alex. Mulder got back in the car as Alex and Anson jumped inside. He drove like hell.

Given the situation, his father's house was a poor choice for a hiding place, but Mulder couldn't think of anyplace else to go. Hopefully, no one would realize that Alex was with Mulder. As for Anson, well, he was with them and there was nothing Mulder could do about that for now.

OooOooO

After getting the location of the murder from Skinner, Scully returned to her desk, phoned the Police Department and asked to speak to the detective in charge of the case.

The duty officer took her phone number, telling her he would find out and ring her back. Not wanting sit twiddling her thumbs, Scully gave him her mobile number and left the building to view the scene of the crime.

When she had parked on the street where the murder was supposed to have occurred she looked around, puzzled, wondering what on earth Skinner had been doing meeting Cancerman so late at night, far away from the Hoover Building, on a long, featureless road with no obvious landmark to designate as a meeting point.

While she was still trying to decide whether she was actually in the right place her phone rang. She pulled the instrument out of her pocket and answered it. "Scully."

"Ah... Agent Scully. This is Sergeant Adams, we spoke earlier about a stabbing victim. Lieutenant Smith is in charge of the investigation and he has requested that you join him at Georgetown General."

"Thank you Sergeant, I'll do that." Shoving the phone back in her pocket she returned to her car feeling even more puzzled; why was Lieutenant Smith at the hospital, and was it anything to do with the tests that Mulder had asked her to run.

When she entered the hospital, Scully spotted a knot of uniformed police near the reception desk. going up to them she identified herself, and asked if they knew where should could find Lieutenant Smith.

A slim, blue-eyed blond woman stepped forward. "Agent Scully, I'm Sergeant Swenson, Lieutenant Smith asked me to look out for you. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to him."

"Thank you Sergeant. Lead on."

"Yes, ma'am."

The Sergeant lead Scully to an office on one of the upper floors of the hospital complex and introduced her to the Lieutenant who was seated behind a desk.

Smith stood up, stuck his hand out and said, "Pleased to meet you Agent Scully. Please take a seat." He gestured to a chair beside him.

Scully shook hands, then seated herself on the indicated chair and cast her eyes over the photographs spread out on the desk while she waited for the Lieutenant to speak. She frowned, and looked closer surprised to find that there were quite a few of what looked like a hospital room, as well as some shots of the street where the attack had occurred.

Smith waited until Scully looked up, then said, "So, Agent Scully, what is your interest in the case and how did you find out about the murder."

Scully raised an eyebrow, but nevertheless answered the question. "AD Skinner, to whom I report, witnessed the murder. He called in Agent Mulder and myself, since we are... er... slightly acquainted with the deceased. I have brought blood samples with me so that we can positively identify him."

"Positively identify! What do you mean?" Smith questioned, sounding pissed off.

Scully shrugged. "He's a wily old man, and he has been 'declared dead' before, only for him to turn up later, very much alive."

Smith snorted his disbelief, then asked. "Did you also bring the file your AD promised to send?"

"File? What file?" She shook her head. "No, I was not given a file to bring with me."

This time Smith scowled. "At the time of the attack, AD Skinner described the assailant as six foot, one inch, dark-haired with green eyes as well as providing us with a description of what he was wearing, he identified him as an ex-FBI agent named Alex Krycek, and said he would send us a file on him.

Scully stared at the policeman open-mouthed, momentarily bereft of speech, for only a short time before Skinner had told them unequivocally that he hadn't positively identified Krycek by name and that he didn't want to alert the Consortium to the fact that they were looking for him. Just what game was Skinner playing?

Gathering her wits she said mendaciously, "My partner, Agent Mulder, thinks that AD Skinner is mistaken, and thinking about it, I have to agree that it would be very uncharacteristic behaviour for Krycek, for although the height, eye and hair colour fit, there are other things like clothing which don't. If there's one thing he's not, it's stupid - one glimpse of Skinner and he would have turned in the opposite direction, making sure he wasn't seen. The Alex Krycek I know would not have gone anywhere near my boss, and most certainly not have attacked anyone in such close proximity."

"If he's wanted by the FBI, why haven't you caught up with him yet?"

Scully looked uncomfortable. "Despite the impression AD Skinner may have given your people, there aren't any outstanding warrants on him. We just don't have any evidence to support one."

Smith looked thoughtfully at the desk. "This case is getting weirder by the minute. We have an apparently unprovoked attack by a person who may, or may not, be an ex-FBI agent according to your AD. Also, we have three witnesses who say that the tall, dark-haired young man walked past both a large balding man, your AD, and the victim, who were standing, talking, on the sidewalk. According to the witnesses, he didn't take any notice of the two men until your AD and the victim chased after him. The knife wasn't drawn until after the victim grabbed hold of the younger man's arm and shook him - at which point the frenzied attack took place.

"Your AD tells you he has witnessed a murder, and you arrive here, not to try to solve the murder, but to make sure its victim is the person he says it is.

"In actual fact, your AD did not witness a murder, for frenzied though the attack was, it was not the cause of death. The victim was alive when he reached this hospital; he was immediately taken into the OR and patched up. His condition, though serious, was not life-threatening, so he was put in a side-ward. A short time later, Doctor McKinnon discovered the victim was dead; the nurse who should have been attending him, was found lying unconscious on the bathroom floor, so we were called in.

"Before I get here I'm told that you are asking about the dead man, and that you want to sit in on the autopsy so that you can positively identify the victim." He looked up and caught her eyes. "What is going on here, Agent Scully?"

Scully stared at the photos on the desk, sorting through the apparently conflicting stories she had heard this morning. She was, however, saved from answering by the arrival of two members of the forensics' team to report on their preliminary findings.

Smith looked pointedly at her, and she murmured that she needed to contact her partner, and left the office.

Finding an empty room further down the corridor, she phoned Mulder.

-oo0oo-

All three occupants of the car jumped when Mulder's cell phone rang. Pulling over, Mulder reached into his pocket and answered. "Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me."

"Ah... Scully, what news do you have?" he asked, conscious of the twins leaning forward to try to hear what Scully was saying to him, and he turned his body to make it easier for them.

"I haven't been able to see the body yet, but whomever Skinner saw attack Spender didn't kill him...."

"What! DIDN'T kill him?"

"That's what I said: Didn't kill him. They operated on Spender as soon as he arrived at the hospital and patched him up. Later, a doctor found him dead and a nurse was left unconscious. From the timing, it would appear that the second attack took place either just before, or during our meeting with Skinner."

"Okay. We still need to know if the corpse really is Spender, so to get the results as soon as you can... I'm getting an uneasy feeling that someone, somewhere is playing games with us."

"Okay, Mulder, I'll get back to you as soon as I learn any more."

"Thanks. "I'll be in touch if I learn anything useful, too."

He put the phone away and looked at the two men in the back seat, wearing identical expressions of concern.

"I guess you heard all that." Two heads nodded. "It would seem that you didn't kill Spender after all, Anson. But sometime later, someone else did."

Anson pouted. "I wanted to kill him because he took Alex away from me."

"Yeah...." Alex looked sideways at his supposed twin. "About that...."

Mulder's stomach growled, he looked at the twins apologetically, then said, "Look guys, this is not the time nor the place for this conversation. When we reach the next gas station, I want you both to crouch down. I'll fill up, and get us all something to eat, then we can find somewhere away from prying eyes to eat and consider out next moves."

Alex's face now wore an identical pout to Anson's, but he backed off and said, "Okay, Mulder. We'll all be better for a meal."

Mulder nodded, then pulled back on to the highway. He drove in silence for another twenty minutes before coming across a sign which advertised gas and shopping 5 miles. "Make yourselves as comfortable as possible on the floor, I don't want you to be seen on any CCTV so keep still." There were rustles of movement as the two men tried to get comfortable, which stilled as Mulder started indicating for the turn.

He pulled up at one of the outer pumps, and filled up with gas. Going into the shop, he picked up a basket and put a six-pack of coke, a box of tissues, three bottles of water, a selection of sandwiches, two packets of chocolate cookies, and a bag of Hershey's Kisses in it. Going up to the counter he handed over his credit card to cover the bill, wishing he had enough cash in his wallet to cover this expense as well as the cost of the ferry.

The clerk swiped the card and wished him a safe journey as he handed card, credit slip and paper sack to him.

Mulder said, "Thanks," put the card and slip away, then walked unhurriedly back to the car. Putting the sack on the front passenger seat he pulled slowly away looking for a suitable place to stop and eat. Once they were out of the brightly lit area, Alex and Anson sat back up, stretching their bodies to get the kinks out of them from the cramped positions they had been forced to adopt.

Spotting a clump of trees which looked as if it would screen the car from the road, Mulder pulled over, drove around back of them, cut the engine and the lights.

Switching on the light in the passenger compartment, he emptied the contents of the sack on to the seat beside him. Opening three can of coke, he handed over two and took a swig out of the third before doling out the sandwiches and tissues. "There wasn't much choice, so I hope you like the same kinds of things that Alex does, Anson. I got three BLTs and three Dolphin Friendly Tuna salads."

There was a companionable silence while they each alternately sipped and chewed their early breakfast.

Once he'd finished his sandwiches, and a cookie, Alex asked, "Where are you taking us, Mulder?"

"Well, originally, I was thinking of going to what used to be my father's place on Martha's Vinyard, but now I'm not so sure that it's a good idea to go on the island, it would be too easy to get trapped on there. Instead I think it would be an idea to call the Gunmen and see if they can come up with any way to hide our whereabouts, and to access my money without leaving a paper trail behind me, in case anyone should connect your disappearance with me."

"Why are you doing this, Mulder?" Alex asked. "Why go to all this trouble... why don't you abandon me... er... us and go on your way?"

Mulder grinned. "One, I want to continue from where we were forced to leave off earlier: Two, Skinner seems to have been a little economical with the truth when he was giving Scully and I our assignment: Three, we need to find out if Anson really is your brother, though I don't think there is much doubt that he is related to you in some way: Four, I think we need to follow up on what Anson said about the 'bad man' being your Mom's father. True or not, maybe we can find out a lot more about Spender through that connection." He leaned forward so that his lips were near Alex's ear. "And Five, I want to do it because I love you, Alex."

He smirked at the stunned expression on Krycek's face, then got out his cell phone to call the Gunmen.

-oo0oo-

Alex froze at Mulder's admission; the hand holding half of his sandwich stopped mid way to his mouth. The damn man had merely smiled then got out of the car, closing the door like he had just commented on the weather instead of saying 'I love you'. Alex's eyes swung to the agent and watched the lanky man as he walked toward a stand of so he could have his phone conversation in private.

A few shaky heart beats later, his appetite gone, Alex dropped his food into the paper bag and crawled over the seats and plopped himself into the front of the car.

Anson quickly retrieved the discarded sandwich from the bag and ate it out of habit. Life on the run had taught him to eat even when one was full. You never knew when the next meal would come. As ate he said to his brother. "Love is bullshit. Don't believe him Alex, he's taking you for a ride. Trust me on this."

Alex frowned and turned around to face his twin. "How would you know? You ever been in love?"

Anson swallowed and helped the dry corner of crust down with some coke.

"Yeah, I've been in love. I loved someone so much that I even married her." Anson closed his eyes, recalling his ex-wife. "She gave me a beautiful baby girl." His green eyes snapped open and there was this hardness in them that Alex recognized. He looked the same way when he was angry and trying to hide the fact. "But I fucked up and now that bitch and my daughter are in the witness protection programme. I'll never see them again. All my ex-wife wanted was a baby, and when she got one, I was thrown away like garbage...." Anson didn't like the feelings that bubbled to the surface when he thought of how much he had loved his wife and daughter. So he quickly clamped down on them, like he did with all of his 'bad' emotions.

Alex shot Anson a surprised look. 'He was married?' Alex paused for a few seconds then said, "Well, I've not been in love before, so don't fuck this up for me."

Anson snorted in doubt, "You love a man? Your gay?" He had just assumed that Alex would be straight like him. Having sex with men for money didn't count in Anson's mind. He'd done it with many men, but never once did he really enjoy the act. But his twin had willingly slept with men?

Anson was genuinely surprised by that.

A hint of a smile formed on Alex's lush mouth. And to his brother, it looked like he had a secret.

"Well, I have been with women before, but only out of necessity. I'm into guys, or more to the point, into Fox Mulder."

Anson shot another hard glare at Mulder. "He doesn't love you, you know. He *can't* love you." He stared deeply into his doubles eyes, imploring him to believe his sage words. "I'm your brother Alex, I'm only saying this because I love you. I want to spare you the pain he will create in your heart when he leaves you."

Anson was sincere, Alex could hear it in his voice, but he wasn't so sanguine as to take everything the virtual stranger said as gospel... yet.

"And believe me, that man will leave you as soon as you give him what he wants... they always do." Finished Anson, his voice quiet and hard.

Both men locked eyes and Alex was hit with a strong sense of De`Ja`Vu. He had the strangest feeling that he they had done this before. The two of them as boys, locked in a silent battle of wills and neither one of them wanting to be the first top look away. As it was, it was Alex who turned away first. He stared out the window and watched Mulder approach the darkened car. Finally, he spoke to his brother.

"Mulder isn't like most men." He said quietly. "We've had this... connection," The was a slight pause after he had said connection, wondering if that was the right word, but there was no other way to explain it. "...the first time I met him, I felt something, right here,..." The former agent touched his flat stomach, acknowledging to himself that the feeling was still there; after all of these years. "...and he did too. Which explains why he was always slapping me whenever we saw each other again."

"He beat you up?" Hissed Anson angrily. He stared menacingly at the approaching agent. Anson knew all to well what getting beat up felt like.

Alex snorted with amusement. "Well, I can't say as I did too much fighting back. I didn't want to hurt him... again."

"If that bastard hits you, I'll..."

"You'll what?!" Hearing Anson's threat had changed Alex's tone and demeanour completely. "You'll do nothing that's what! You Anson, brother or not, will mind your own fucking business, that's what you'll do." The door to the easy repertoire between the two was slammed shut by Alex.

"Fine!" Anson concede to the elder twin. "I suppose *I* don't know what is true of Mulder's heart. I'll mind my own matters, for now."

"Fine." Replied Alex in a harsh whisper.

Mulder pulled the door open and climbed in, invading the icy silence between the two.

"What's going on?" He asked, looking back and forth between the twins.

"Nothing." Replied Alex as casually as he could. "It's just that all this brother shit is really starting to get to me. It's all so fucking whacked. We need to get a blood test done, I've got to find out if Skippy back there is really from the same zygote as me.

Anson sat back against the seat and smiled.

"What?" Alex accused.

"Nothing, I'm just minding my own business." Anson's smile had turned into a full blown smirk and his likeness to Alex was uncanny. He was remembering the times when the two of them were small and their father would always call them by their pet names. Daddy had said that the two boys went together like peanut butter and jelly did. So Anson had become 'Skippy' after the peanut butter and Alex was 'jellybeans'. Anson realized that his twin did not understand the significance of calling him Skippy, but he did. It would only be a matter of time before the memories came back to his brother and when they did, Anson would be there to hug and reassure his elder twin. He would give him all the proper love and comfort that he himself, had never received.

Anson closed his eyes, recalling the good times of he and Alex and their father. Within seconds, he'd drifted off into sleep.

"What's the game plan?" Alex turned away from the man in the back and looked at Mulder.

"Well, the guys have a place for us, but it requires about five more hours of driving."

Alex sighed, he was tired and just wanted to get out of the car. "Listen Mulder, let's just go back to my place. It's got all the security we'll need. Besides, I'd feel safer there."

Mulder nodded in agreement. He didn't want to drive for another five hours either. "All right, I'll turn around and head back, I'll just let the guys know." He started to reach into his pocket for his phone, but was stopped when Alex placed his cold hand on top of Mulder's.

"No. It would be better if you didn't tell them. Let them think that were going there. The less people who know our whereabouts the better." He smiled shyly at the older man, squeezed the hand below his then pulled it away. In the back seat, he could hear his brother snoring softly. "If we leave now, we can be back at my place before Anson wakes up." Alex gestured with his head toward the back seat of the sedan. "The less people who know where I am the better."

Mulder started the car and headed back toward the city. Promising Alex that he wouldn't tell a soul about the luxurious, security -laden loft.

~~

Once secured inside the garage, Alex shook his look-a-like awake.

Anson came to quickly, but remained silent as Alex led him through the maze that led to his loft. It was only after they were in the apartment that Anson spoke.

"Where are we?" He looked around at the posh surroundings, amazed at the cleanliness of the place.

"My place and we're safe. That's all that matters." Was all Alex said, throwing Mulder a warning glance.

Mulder shrugged.

"All riiighty then." Was Anson's sarcastic reply. "Can one of you at least tell me what city I'm in then?"

"No." Said Alex, his and Mulder's eyes met. Mulder shot the other a look and relenting, Alex sighed.

"We're in my loft in D.C. Don't ask me how you get here 'cuz were not telling you."

Anson shrugged, satisfied with his elder brother's answer. He turned away from the two and started to walk around the immaculate loft. Anson had never visited, let alone lived in such an upscale place.

"Come on." Alex said to Mulder. "I'll show you how the security system works." He led Mulder to a wall near the kitchen. On a large, pine desk sat three state of the art computers and above those, were a bank of six monitors. Each monitor showed a different view; three covered the only three entrances into the place and the other three 'guarded' the perimeter of his warehouse and his garage. Along with the cameras and computers, Alex had set infrared and laser sensors that would sound an alarm if triggered. As he explained how everything worked, Mulder stepped in close behind Alex and bumped his hips into his firm ass. Then he ran his hands up Alex's right arm and his left side and bent in close and whispered into the elfin-like right ear, "It's late, lets go to bed."

Alex leaned back into Mulder's waiting arms. He closed his eyes and luxuriated in the other man's gentle breath upon his bare neck. "'Kay," he whispered. "just let me get Anson settled first."

Mulder wrapped his lips around Alex's lobe and bit down gently. He pulled back and said, "That's a good idea. Besides, I could use a shower and I really need to check in with Scully. She can arrange the blood tests."

Alex stiffened at the mention of the petit agent. He stepped away from Mulder and said coldly. "I have everything we need here to take the samples. All you need to do is have agent Scully analyze them." He turned and walked toward his bathroom area. Once out of view of Mulder, Alex yanked a large free-standing cabinet door open and pulled out a large knap sack.

Anson happened to be behind the Chinese blinds separating the bathroom from the rest of the loft when Alex strode in, interrupting his snooping. He said nothing about the exchange between the two, which he had heard, but simply stood aside to give his twin room to manoeuvre. He watched Alex for a second, then, spurred on by his rumbling stomach, set out for kitchen in search of something more substantial than a sandwich to eat.

"You mind if I find something to eat?" Anson called out to Alex as he walked away.

Alex looked up from the sack at the sound of Anson's voice and replied, "Knock yourself out. While you're in the fridge, pour us some O.J. Were gonna' have our blood drawn Skippy." He stood and went to the kitchen bringing the canvas knap sack with him.

Mulder watched as Alex pulled apart a first aid kit that would rival any doctor's little black bag. It dawned on the agent that in Alex's business, the Russian spy just may have had to administer first aid to his own self at one time or another.

Alex found everything he needed to draw blood and set it up on the Island between the kitchen and the rest of the loft. He tore open a package with his teeth and drew out a butterfly I.V. needle. He put aside and drew up his pant leg and hastily swabbed a spot on the inside of his left ankle.

"Stop, Alex, or you're going to hurt yourself." Mulder intercepted the Russian's hand halfway to his target spot.

"I can do this myself Mulder, I don't need Scully's help." His words came out angrier than he had intended.

"Are you mad at me?"

Alex sighed, he wasn't mad per se, just upset that Mulder seemed to always be thinking about Scully. "No." He said finally, trying to effect calm in his voice. "No. I'm not mad."

Mulder nodded and gently pried the sterile equipment out of Alex's fist. Now he got it. Alex was jealous of Scully, of their partnership. Wouldn't he be surprised to find out that Scully, at one time, had felt the very same about the young, brown haired agent. "I know how to take a sample. I'll draw Anson's blood first, then he can shower."

Anson tuned at the mention of his name, looking rather green around the edges at the sight of the needles and vials.

"Okay, I'll go first." Uttered Anson hesitantly. "But I'm only agreeing to this so I can prove to you once and for all that were brother's Alex."

Mulder swabbed Anson's inner-arm then sank the needle in gently.

Anson turned his face away. "Uggggh. I hate needles." He griped.

'I bet you do.' Thought Mulder to himself, who still had yet to talk to Alex about his 'brother'. ~~

Blood drawn, Mulder carefully labelled the vials A-1 for Alex and A-2 for Anson. He put the samples aside for analysis in the morning.

Anson ate and showered then went right to bed and to sleep.

He tossed and turned, his dreams vivid and fraught with images of his time, as a young man, in the psychiatric hospital. His unsettled slumber went unnoticed by his two companions.

After Anson, it was Mulder's turn to shower, and Alex took the opportunity to triple check the security of the loft. When Mulder left the bathroom, he was wearing only his unbuttoned dress shirt and his boxer briefs.

~~

After his shower, Alex rubbed the steam away from his mirror and stood in front of it, staring at his nude image. His eyes telegraphed to the left and rested on his scarred stump. A looked of disgust marred his beautiful mouth. Thoughts like: 'How can Mulder say he loves me, when I look like this?' and 'What if he is sickened by the sight of me and turns to Anson? At least *he's* physically perfect.' Scurried through his head.

Finally, deciding that worrying about things that hadn't happened yet was pointless, Alex tugged on a plain white T-shirt and pulled on a pair of grey sweat pants; sans underwear. With one last look at the prosthetic arm that sat in a laundry basket of clean clothes on his dryer; he turned, shut off the standing lamp and headed for the bedroom.

Knowing that Mulder was waiting there for him, the walk to the bedroom was an anxious one for the Russian. Normally, not one to lack confidence, Alex felt out of his element when it came to Mulder and their new admissions of love. ~~

As his soon to be lover showered, Mulder gathered up several large vanilla scented pillar candles and set them up around the bedroom. He arranged them, then lit them, creating a romantic glow within the cordoned off sleeping area.

He knew that Alex was unsure of himself and of *them*. That much was obvious over Mulder's casual mention of Scully. The candles were meant to put Alex at ease, because sure as the night was long, Mulder meant to make love with Alex this time.

Nothing, including visions was going to stop him.

Tonight, Mulder intended to romance the socks off of Alex, then after a few hours of shut-eye, they could talk about what he had learned about Anson Green.

~~

"What's all this?" Alex looked around his bedroom and smiled; swallowing down his anxiety.

"I just wanted to create a little ambience." Mulder stepped up close to Alex and held his hand, lacing his fingers through the other's.

"Who would have thought that Fox Mulder, FBI agent and all around cynic, was a romantic at heart." Alex visibly relaxed.

"Yeah." Declared Mulder, "who would have thought." He stared into Alex's eyes and the smile that he had slowly slipped away as his true feelings came forth.

Alex in return, studied his former partner. His hear rate shot up a few extra beats per second and a soft pink blush stole up from his neck and stained his cheeks under the scrutiny of the older man. He dipped his head and turned his gaze sideways, then brought his eyes back to the forth to meet Mulder's intense stare once again.

"Kiss me." He murmured softly.

And Mulder, needing no more invitation than those two little words, did just that.

Their lips met and the sensation was at once familiar for both of them. Alex's tongue peeked out and nudged it's way between Mulder's plump lips. And Mulder, accepted the tip of his lover's tongue and then some. He released Alex's hand and wrapped his arms around his wide shoulders, drawing the Russian in closer. Alex returned the embrace by wrapping his lone arm around Fox's slim waist.

The kiss went on a few more seconds, before Mulder reluctantly pulled out of it. He ran the tips of his fingers from Alex's shoulders continuing down the right arm and down his left side. When he reached the bottom of the T-shirt, Fox tucked his fingers below the hem and lifted it up. Alex allowed him to pull his shirt up and off and did not notice which way Fox tossed the garment.

The cool air of the loft licked gently at Alex's bare back.

Mulder wasted no time and grabbed hold of the band of the sweats and pulled them down, lowering his body and his gaze at the same times as the pants. Once the sweats were down, Mulder helped Alex to step out of them and they too were tossed in the same direction as the shirt.

Alex had kept his eyes glued to Mulder for his entire descent and all during his assent.

Completely naked and with out his arm, Alex couldn't help but feel vulnerable.

But then Mulder stripped off his own shirt - with less fanfare than he had his lover's clothes and put it on Alex. He left the shirt unbuttoned; the garment was about one size too large for Alex. With a swoop of his left hand, Mulder grabbed up his un-knotted tie and draped it around Alex's neck. Then he pulled off his underwear, releasing his erection.

"This some sort of a fantasy for you Mulder? Dress up the junior agent in a five hundred dollar shirt and fuck him silly?" Laughing softly, Alex fingered the collar of the expensive shirt

"You bet it is, baby." Mulder grasped the ends of the tie and pulled Alex to him, kissing the Russian when he was close enough. With his scarred stump covered and out of view, Alex's initial insecurity dissolved. More confident of himself, Alex thrust his hips forward, stroking over Mulder's bare cock with his own considerable erection. Mulder turned their bodies and still connected by their kiss, he started to back them up towards the bed. When he felt the low-rise bed hit his shins Mulder allowed himself to fall backwards, pulling Alex over on top of him.

The Russian's hand immediately snaked between their stomach's on impact, he joined their cocks together in his large fist and slowly began to masturbate them. Below one pillow, Mulder had stowed away a small tube of KY jelly that he had pinched out of Alex's first aid kit. It was that pillow that he was now fumbling under. His fingers closed around the object when he had located it. It was then that he broke the marathon kiss.

"I could kiss you all night." Husked Alex, his breath heavy with lust.

"You were right on the mark when you asked if this was a fantasy for me." Mulder notice that Alex's plump, kiss swollen lips were redder than they were five minutes ago. And he echoed his lover's words. "I could kiss you all night too. But what I want right now is to make love to you." He showed what was in his palm.

Alex raised his eyebrow, and sat up so that he was straddling Mulder's waist, their balls touching.

"You want to make love in this position? It's been some time for me Fox..." Said Alex, unsure.

"Oh yeah, Alex to have above me, so I can watch you, you're so beautiful. And to see you in my shirt. Leaving your scent on it so when I wear it home tomorrow, I will smell you and I'll remember all over again how good it was between us." He undid the cap and squeezed out a large amount onto his fingers. Mulder didn't know if his words made sense to Alex or not, but he had spoken them from his heart.

"I'll be gentle Alex, I promise."

Alex graced Mulder with a sweet, vibrant smile. "Okay." He said, low and raspy. No one have ever felt this way about him before, no one. He stared down directly into Fox's eyes, as the man below him prepared his opening with delicate fingers.

Mulder's blood boiled with desire as he used two fingers to break Alex's tight opening in.

For his part, Alex tired to relax as best he could. Knowing how much Fox wanted him made the task somewhat easier. However, it had still been well over a year since he'd last had sex. And that time, it had been forced sex by two goons who worked for Marita Covarubius. Alex should have known that she wouldn't let being left as a human guinea pig at Fort Marlene lightly. Three months in a Tunisian prison wouldn't be enough punishment for her.

"I'm ready." Alex murmured, rising up to his knees, he pushed aside thoughts of Marita and the year past.

Mulder grasped his hard cock and held it steady and with the other hand, he rested it firmly on his lover's hip. Fox left it up to Alex how quickly he wanted the penetration to go.

Alex hissed at the initial entry, but then, after a few deep, centering breaths, he continued his descent into pleasure, and before long, he was fully seated.

Groaning, Mulder put his other hand on Alex's slim hip and then took control from his lover. He thrust up gently at first, not wishing to hurt his lover, but after a few more gentle pushes, he increased his pace slightly, gradually picking up speed as he went along.

Mulder was wrapped in a warm blanket of bliss, he couldn't believe how warm and tight Alex's ass felt. Looking up and watching Alex, Mulder was awestruck at just how beautiful the Russian really was. So magnificent, perfect in every way, except one and even then, his imperfection took nothing away from his physical beauty.

Alex Krycek was like a renaissance painting; despite it's flaws on the canvas, the picture was still a work of art to be admired by many.

Fox moaned Alex's name and thrust up even harder, eliciting a cry of pleasure from the man atop him.

~~

As the two former agents writhed with ecstasy, in another bed, Anson withed with anguish. ~~

"Come on Anson, swallow this god-dammed pill or the doctor will make it in suppository form." Jeered the stocky orderly. "And we both know how much hate having things put in your ass."

"Fuck you Jughead!" Spit Anson angrily, struggling against another overweight orderly dressed in all white. "You faggot... boy fucking...."

'Jughead's' large fist grabbed Anson's jaw on either side interrupting the seventeen year-old's tirade by forcing his mouth open. "Shut the fuck up." He said irritably, shoving the large pill so far down Anson's throat that he gagged and almost vomited it up. "Puke it up you little shit and you'll eat in anyways." Warned 'Jughead'.

The orderly squeezed the boy's jaw tighter, leaving light blue marks that would be deep purple by nightfall.

Anson breathed deeply, forcing his stomach to relax. The pill stayed down.

"That's a good boy." Jughead said, releasing Anson from his clutches. The other orderly released his wrist.

"I'm not a boy..." Anson whispered to the backs of the orderlies as they left. "I haven't been one in a long time." Rubbing at his sore wrists Anson said in his mind, "Why won't you come for me Alex?"

~~

"Come for me Alex...come for me..." Groaned Fox.

Supported by Mulder's strong hands, Alex pumped his erection harder, suddenly sending out a spray of milky white come with such force that the first spurt went right over Mulder's head and hit the duvet above him. Then the eruption splashed onto Mulder's lightly whiskered chin and cheek and finally, over his chest.

Mulder let out a loud yell and forced Alex down further onto his cock, holding him there as the ecstasy of orgasm took him over the brink.

~~

Later, spooned together in bed, with dawn just a few short hours away, Mulder said sleepily, "We need to talk about Anson..."

"In the morning Fox..." Murmured Alex, then he was asleep.

Mulder kissed the back of his lover's neck and agreed. "In the mor...." The rest of his words where whisked away on the wings of contented slumber.

~~

On to Round Three