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Picture the usual disclaimers here. No one ever offers me money. All characters are the property of Fox Television and Ten Thirteen productions.

The text is strewn with naughty words and stuff about sex. There's also some explicit m/m sex. And some bad thoughts about the government which I feel somewhat obligated to apologize for.

Ethan, functioning as the world's most tactful beta reader, tried to steer me in the right direction on this story but everything you hate is entirely my fault.

Author: AnneZo @ fastmail . fm

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There wasn't any authorization for this stakeout. In fact, if his superiors found out about it, he probably wouldn't survive their retribution. Fox Mulder was off-limits for the time being. That was the official word from the unofficial committee that commanded him. On the other hand, he hadn't gotten to where he was in his life today by following orders too closely. As for where he actually was, his mind skittered away when he thought about that too closely.

A long time ago he had learned that following power led to power. When his sponsor had discovered him, he was just out of school with no money, vaulting ambition to make it to the top fast, and a certain flexibility regarding how he got there. He'd been on the verge of trading what he had for a shot at underworld success when the offer came for a very special job.

Even then Alex hadn't been inclined to trust strange men making offers that sounded too good to be true, but the colorless stranger had made it clear that his interest in young Krycek, while very personal, wasn't physical. The offer had been blunt. He would have to leave behind his current life and turn his fate completely over to his new superiors who would, in turn, take over the job of training and educating him. The only thing they were reluctant to provide information on was the exact nature of the job. That, they told him, would depend upon his capabilities. With the unlimited arrogance of the young, he had decided to gamble on the opportunity. So he had gambled. Whether he had won or lost the gamble, he still wasn't certain. But if he had lost, the reason for that failure was Fox Mulder.

As he brooded on his job and what that original offer had led to, a noise from the speaker caught his attention. Mulder. Finally. He grinned at the screen maliciously. *Welcome home, lover. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Do something incriminating, just for me.*

Krycek had his own axe to grind with Mulder, off the record. He was going to find Mulder's secrets. Everyone had something to hide and he didn't think Special Agent Fox Mulder was any exception. As soon as he knew the truth, he'd be able to trade that knowledge for another chance. So, here he sat in a cheap, unfurnished apartment with a plastic folding chair and a rickety table covered with expensive, albeit unreliable, audiovisual equipment. *This had better be worth it.*

He had spent enough of his life on the wrong side of the tracks. This time he had created his own opportunity and when it paid off he'd be the one holding the cards. In spite of the recent *hands off* declaration, he knew the men who owned him were insatiable for any information about Fox Mulder.

He was disappointed when the agent dropped down onto the couch, kicked off his shoes, and opened up a file folder from a stack on the low coffee table. Soon he was lost in the report, frowning and turning the pages slowly. Alex was pissed. *Shit, this isn't what I spent two weeks going over your apartment and installing this equipment to see. Come on Mulder, where are your subversive friends? It's Friday night, for Christ's sake. Surely you can do better than this?*

*You owe me,* he told the silent figure on the screen. "You and your fucking aliens and your fucking conspiracies. Why couldn't you follow orders, just once? Why didn't you trust me?* He was still called in, from time to time, and given assignments to complete but he knew his importance to the Consortium had dwindled to almost zero when he failed to win the confidence of Fox Mulder. His instructions, for once, had been crystal clear. Fox Mulder was his road to success. That road had dead-ended at the bottom of a mountain when he had been forced to kill one man, and had almost killed Mulder, to keep him from rescuing his former partner.

Alex had argued against the order to involve himself in blocking Mulder's access to Dana Scully before her abduction. He had even tried to turn down the assignment, as much as his fear would let him stand against the man Mulder had nicknamed *Cancer Man,* arguing that anyone in the area when the woman disappeared would be suspect in Mulder's eyes. In the end, his fear and the other man's veiled threats had won and his brief tenure as Mulder's partner had headed toward disaster from the second the tram operator had crumpled to the floor with his skull caved in. He owed that smoking son-of-a-bitch as much or more than he owed Mulder, a fact he never forgot.

*Bastard.* Mulder had reacted exactly the way he was expected to, and Alex didn't hold that against him. If Alex had been given a free hand to handle the situation his own way he'd still have both a very attractive partner and a very attractive future. Instead he was an outcast, barely tolerated by the men whose orders he had failed to obey and afraid to show his face to the man he had betrayed. The way Alex saw it, any power over Mulder would put him in a good position to dictate terms to his other enemies as well. Which, in the long run, was even more appealing than the idea of bringing down the sanctimonious and unapproachable agent.

All he had to do was wait for Mulder to give him the edge he needed. Anything would do, Alex wasn't particular. Work, personal, even just something that could be twisted out of context and made to look suspicious. His time with the shadowy committee had taught him the value of ambiguity. He settled in to watch.

There followed a long interval, in which Krycek slowly grew bored out of his mind. Not that he didn't appreciate the view. Mulder was a beautiful man, well worth staring at, and for the first half hour he enjoyed the opportunity to memorize every line of the long body, every movement of his head and hands. The shaded light glanced off of the planes of Mulder's face, turning him into a living sculpture. Alex dwelled wistfully for several minutes on the intriguing double curve of the sensuous lower lip. That mouth had been a constant temptation to him in the days the two men had worked together. And...Alex let his eyes wander down the rest of the lean body. There were a lot of things about Fox Mulder that had tempted Alex toward indiscretion in the past. But that sort of thing palled after a while when you weren't allowed to touch. And he wasn't.

Alex had had fantasies about Mulder when they were working together, but no one had been able to prove that the man even *had* a sex life. None of the men or women he met seemed to make the slightest impression on him. There had been one night, he remembered, when all that seemed on the verge of changing. Bored with the case, disregarding Mulder's wild theories, and more than a little horny, Alex had given considerable thought to dragging his sexy partner into a dark alley somewhere and just fucking his beautiful brains out. Now he wished he had followed-up on the impulse. He more than half-suspected Mulder would have cooperated. The was probably the guy's problem, he decided. *Too many aliens, too few dates.* The first person who refused to take 'no' for an answer would probably hit the jackpot.

It was a waste of time remembering all of that now. *That* was not an opportunity that he'd get again. He had about as much chance at Foxy Mulder now as he did at his beautiful, but equally suspicious partner. His thoughts wandered to the redhead. He wouldn't have turned down either of them, to tell the truth. Not that that was saying much. He rarely turned down anyone who interested him unless he thought he could get more by playing hard to get.

He reached for his habitual coffee cup, then remembered where he was. *Shit.* No physical evidence, he had decided. No tapes, no trash, no papers. He had even worn gloves as he set up the equipment. He hated this empty room. It smelled like mildew and loss. Like pain. Like his childhood. Like his life.

Finally, a soft scraping caught his attention. At the edge of the picture, Alex could see part of a broad shoulder. Finally, some excitement. Either Mulder had left his door unlocked, as likely as the Democrats nominating Alex for President, or someone had a key. From the build, it wasn't his partner. And from Mulder's reaction, it wasn't an unwelcome, or unexpected, visitor. He continued to read the report, ignoring the newcomer stubbornly.

Alex was confused but alert. If this was Mulder's secret source within the Consortium, his own future was guaranteed. The half-seen figure slid out of an overcoat and walked over to the couch. *Assistant Director Skinner? What the hell?*

"Mulder?" Yes, it was him. Alex would know that deceptively soft voice anywhere.

He hadn't realized Mulder's boss made house calls to kick ass. Whatever Mulder had done this time, it was obviously pretty major. He grinned slightly and leaned back in the stiff chair. Watching the AD in one of his tirades could be educational, as long as it was directed at someone else. And in his present mood, Alex had no problem watching someone take a couple of inches off of Mulder.

"To what do I owe the honor of this visit? Don't tell me you ran out of gas in the neighborhood." Mulder was pissed, that was obvious. That was quite a remark, calculated to invite wholesale slaughter from Skinner, who had never demonstrated a sense of humor in Alex's hearing.

"Stop acting like a shit." *What the hell?* Skinner sounded almost conciliatory. And, come to think of it, when and where had the man gotten a key to Mulder's apartment? At that critical moment, the cheap, government-issue equipment took a break and the sound disappeared.

Leaning forward in his chair, Alex watched the discussion closely. He admired Mulder's nerve, he seemed to be chewing his surly boss out with surprising freedom. As he watched in disbelief, Skinner shrugged his shoulders and looked away from the furious agent. Mulder seemed to quiet down, but he was no less articulate. Whatever had set him off, he was really dishing it out to Skinner. Alex grinned. This scene alone was worth the price of admission. Skinner's name came soon after Mulder's on Alex's hit parade of enemies and he knew either of the other men would be happy enough to see him behind bars.

He was surprised that the older man just stood there and took it. The Assistant Director wasn't famous for his even temper. Finally Skinner reacted, shaking his head, refusing or denying something the agent was saying. Mulder threw the forgotten report past him onto the table and crossed his arms. There was no other word for it. He was sulking. Skinner was talking now, but he didn't appear to be shouting. Alex was in shock. He'd seen him react to a typo with more hostility than Mulder's rant seemed to inspire. What the hell did Mulder have on Skinner? He banged the sound equipment hopelessly.

Mulder stared up at the AD thoughtfully. Alex could see him drinking in whatever Skinner was saying. As he watched, Mulder's gaze softened and he smiled slightly. *Jesus, he looks....* Did Mulder have the hots for his boss? Impossible. But the look on his face was proof enough. Alex could *not* believe his eyes. He reached for the rewind button on the machine before he remembered that this was a live performance. No tapes, no record of the surveillance. *Shit.*

*God damn it!* He moved closer to the screen uselessly, his eyes glued to the action. Mulder was smiling, a wicked, beautiful smile. Alex couldn't see Skinner's face but he could imagine it. *This can't be what it looks like.* He wondered if Skinner even noticed the invitation. He wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Clean was too dumb to see it. Alex eyed Mulder's video image with irritation. It was just like the stupid asshole to pick Skinner. Mulder was a sucker for lost causes.

As he watched, Mulder stretched invitingly, laying his arms behind his head with a lazy grin. Skinner moved suddenly, shoving aside the low table and kneeling next to the couch. Under Alex's stunned gaze, the man grabbed Mulder and kissed him, hard. Blood roared in Alex's ears and he felt dizzy. Stunned. *It can't be.* He looked at the screen again. *It is.*

Skinner's frustrated voice was harsh in his ear, the sound returning as abruptly as it had left. "...weeks and you're playing fucking mind games."

Mulder laughed. "You had something else in mind? Parcheesi? Dominoes?"

Skinner snarled, there was no other word for the sound, and kissed him again. By the time this one ended, Mulder was limp against the cushions, looking dazed. Alex had to admit he was impressed. Christ...with just a kiss? *How the fuck does he do that?*

"As usual, Walter..." No surprise Alex was having trouble with his breathing. Mulder seemed to be having his own problems. ".....you forgot what I told you about overdressing for these occasions."

"Is this an occasion?" Skinner threaded one hand through Mulder's hair and leaned over the couch. Alex's jaw was still hanging open and he pulled it shut with an effort. Never, in his wildest dreams would he have imagined this.

"It could be, if you'd quit fighting me." Mulder reached up and pulled off Skinner's tie, throwing it impatiently to the floor. He did the same with the suit jacket, which Skinner caught and transferred to the table. Alex could see Mulder's eyes over Skinner's shoulder as the older man leaned over him. He would have killed to have that look directed at him. Mulder was unbuttoning the AD's shirt. In a few seconds he pulled it open and slid his hands inside. Alex couldn't see what he was doing but Skinner arched into the touch and said something he didn't catch. *You bastard, Skinner. What did you ever do to deserve this? To deserve him?*

*Jesus.* Alex rubbed the sweat from his face. Who would have thought? Those two? Together? His brain still couldn't wrap itself around the idea but his body was starting to get very interested. It was twisted. It was sick. But seeing his severe, by-the-book former boss in a clinch with the sexy and paranoid Mulder was seriously turning him on.

He heard a soft sound. Looking back at the screen, he caught Mulder pulling Skinner back down to him, his face and hands buried behind the loose shirt. Skinner moaned again and pulled away, bending down to kiss the agent. He could see one hand laying against the waistband of Mulder's jeans. As he watched, Skinner began to run his hand over the fabric. Mulder rubbed his hips against the pressure. "Mmm." His own cock throbbed in sympathy. In envy.

"Are you going to take your clothes off?" That note of teasing command in Mulder's voice was starting to do irrevocable things to Alex's self-control.

"I thought you were doing that."

"Do it." Alex was fascinated. He wouldn't have imagined Skinner being so compliant. On the other hand, and his eyes strayed back to Mulder's smile, what the hell did he have to lose?

"What is this voyeurism fetish you have? If you think I'm doing a striptease, think again, Mulder."

"You're arguing again, Walter." His voice was husky, demanding. Alex shivered and prayed to the god of electronics to keep the sound working.

"Fifty million normal men in this country and I fall in love with a pervert," he complained. The agent grinned but didn't answer. Obviously it was a familiar conversation.

He didn't know what to watch. That incredible look in Mulder's eyes. Or Skinner stripping to reveal a surprisingly muscular body. Jesus, the man was built under those cheap suits. For a moment he found himself envying Mulder. He watched as Skinner dropped the last of his clothes on the low table and returned to the couch. Mulder let his hand slide up his lover's body as Skinner knelt down again.

"Well?" Skinner's voice was casual, challenging. He didn't have anything to be self-conscious about, that was for damned sure. Mulder grinned. Alex's eyes strayed back to Skinner's body. Leaning over the couch like that....

"I like you this way, Walter. So cooperative. For a change."

The fucking sound chose that moment to cut out again. Alex swore and pulled his chair closer to the screen, watching intently as Skinner pulled up the black tee-shirt and applied his mouth to Mulder's navel, pushing the fabric out of the way as he worked his way up to the nipples. He lingered there for a while, sucking and nibbling each tiny nub. Alex moaned softly. His nipples were a sensitive spot and apparently so were Mulder's. The agent was squirming, his hands holding Skinner's mouth against his skin. He knew Mulder echoed his groan of disappointment when Skinner pulled away.

The older man kissed Mulder briefly, then pushed the shirt over his head. Mulder fought his arms free and pulled Skinner down to him for another, longer kiss.

Alex heard their breathing, Mulder's soft moans and the scrape of his jeans against the fabric of the couch. Ahh...the sound was back. The picture was good, but he wanted the full experience. The pressure of his erection against his jeans was getting uncomfortable. Big surprise. Watching Mulder eat lunch had been known to turn him on. Hiding here, watching him fall apart under his domineering boss's mouth and hands was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. He didn't know which was actually more exciting: seeing Mulder this way; or knowing that Skinner was susceptible to this particular temptation. Even Alex's fantasies had never wandered in the AD's direction. If ever a man had 'noli mi tangere' written all over him....

Skinner unfastened the tight jeans and slid his hand inside carefully. Mulder sighed blissfully and pushed against him. "More." His voice was arrogant and his smile was confident, certain. *How long has this been going on?* Alex suddenly wondered.

"You're very demanding this evening. Should I assume you're enjoying yourself?"

"OK, so it was worth the wait. This time."

"You're a selfish bastard, Mulder." Skinner pulled his hand away, ignoring the agent's protest. He pulled the tight jeans off and threw them on the floor. Leaning over, he took the agent's cock into his mouth.

"Christ! Walter!" Mulder's hips came up off the couch and Alex was half out of his chair in sympathy an instant later.

He pulled frantically at the zip on his jeans, easing the pressure that threatened to overwhelm him. Sliding the rough fabric down to his knees, he eased back into the hard plastic chair. The coolness against his ass helped him to regain control. Without a tape, he would have only his memories of this in the future. And he might be a sick bastard, but he intended to make sure those memories were complete.

"Be careful..." Under his envious gaze Skinner was driving Mulder crazy. He couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but the expression on Mulder's face told him enough. He was transformed, his normally guarded expression replaced by a mouth-watering abandon. He moaned softly, one hand pressing against his lover's head.

"Yes! Oh...yes...shit....Walter..." Mulder strained against the hands pinning him to the couch. He swore again when the Skinner released him and Alex echoed the curse. Mulder's head disappeared behind his lover's broad shoulders again and Alex could hear Mulder moaning against his mouth.

Skinner pulled away and stood up. Alex could hear Mulder's ragged breathing as he was left alone. Jesus...where was he going? He had to be crazy. Devouring Mulder's sweating, panting body with his eyes, Alex swore that the Last Trump wouldn't have gotten him away from the man at such a moment.

He heard a soft laugh. Alone onscreen, Mulder was a beautiful sight, hard and ready, waiting for his lover to join him. He would have tempted a saint and Alex was no saint. Watching Mulder squirm against the couch was too much and his hands slid down to his own erection. Mulder with Skinner had been overwhelming. Mulder, abandoned and so hot he couldn't keep his hands off himself, was impossible to resist, even in fantasy. He would have sold his soul to be in that room with him.

"Where the fuck are you, Walter? I swear to god, if you stopped to read the evening paper I'll shoot you." The suspicious way his breathless laugh cut off in the middle grabbed Alex's attention. As he stared at the equipment in disbelief, he realized his own ragged breathing was the only sound he could hear. Again. Son of a bitch. Why the hell did they buy such shit equipment? What did he pay taxes for anyhow?

Skinner reappeared in the picture, pushing Mulder's hands away from his cock and replacing them with his own. Mulder's smile would have lit a city street. In a few seconds his hips were almost coming off the couch with every stroke of his lover's hands. Alex shuddered and froze, fighting to last just a little longer. Finally he had to close his eyes for a few seconds, willing himself back under control, his own soft moans echoing in the too-empty room.

When he looked again, Mulder's long legs were draped over Skinner's shoulders and he was sliding his fingers in and out of Mulder's ass carefully. Mulder was hanging onto his own control by a thread. His eyes were glazed and his body was jerking against the pressure of Skinner's hand. *Jesus, the man must be made of ice.* Looking at Skinner's face, he saw the sheen of sweat and realized that Skinner was as close to the edge as Mulder.

Finally Skinner pulled his hand away and started pushing inside of the man beneath him. In a few seconds they were both moving, Skinner's hands on Mulder's cock again, stroking him in time with his own movements. In the lonely room, Alex moved with them, absorbed by the scene, his hands mimicking the rhythm of Skinner's hands on Mulder's cock. The sound of his harsh panting filled the drab room and the tension built in him as it did in the other men.

Mulder threw back his head and came with a shout Alex swore he could hear from across the street and his own climax poured out of him. The sound of his own cry surprised him as he jerked almost painfully against his own hand again and again.

When it was over, he pried his eyes open again and stared at the screen. Skinner was sliding bonelessly down over Mulder's heaving chest and the younger man was wrapping his arms around his lover's back, holding the two of them safely on the narrow couch. Skinner's face was sated and peaceful. Mulder looked smug and exhausted.

Alex stared ahead of him at the tangle of wiring sagging from the rickety table in the middle of the empty room. This was what he had been looking for. Mulder's secret. Everyone had something to hide. Now that he knew the truth about Special Agent Mulder, he was the one with the power. And he intended to use this knowledge to his advantage. As soon as he could figure out a way to do it without getting killed.

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The end