Morning Glory

Part One: Morning Glory

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.
---Jelaluddin Rumi (13th century)

Her own scream echoing back at her was only punctuated by the sound of screeching tires. Sabryn opened her eyes, her face immediately flaming, to see Mr. Skinner struggling to get the truck back on the road. Sweating and shaking, she sat up straighter in the passenger seat and swallowed heavily. Thanks to the nightmare, she'd nearly gotten them into a wreck. Still, it was a welcome distraction from the image of her father calling out her name as he died.

"Amanda..."

A ghostly chill crept up her spine. His voice was so clear in the back of her mind. Shoving the remnants of the dream away, she glanced back at the camper her brother was driving behind them, before turning her attention to her companion.

"I'm sorry. I should have warned you about that."

The scowl that seemed permanently carved in his face didn't waver as he raised a shaky hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. "I damned near drove us off the road."

"I know. I--I didn't expect to fall asleep. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing. It's over."

She couldn't help being repentant. He reminded her a lot of her father. A stern authority figure, handsome but withdrawn, a commanding presence. She had to turn away from his penetrating stare. The road flew by below them, dirty with sand and frost. Cold and bleak. So far from home.

Just over twenty-four hours earlier, they'd left Virginia for what she assumed was the last time. They'd delivered her paintings to Maxine, giving the woman quite a bargain for only five thousand dollars. A short trip to the supermarket got them enough food and supplies for the drive north. Once they reached their destination, Mr. Skinner had assured her they would buy much more.

Finally noticing the lack of foothills, she asked, "Where are we?"

"Just outside Cedar Rapids."

"Iowa? Already?"

"Switching drivers so often was a good idea. But I think we'll have to stop entirely, soon. I don't know about you, but quick naps aren't cutting it anymore."

"There's an exit coming up...why don't we get something to eat?"

He nodded curtly, changing lanes in preparation. As he watched for Johnny to follow, Sabryn took a moment to study his profile. She'd spent the entire day with him, but he was still every bit as much a stranger to her as he'd always been. He didn't speak much, and when he did the topic of discussion was entirely impersonal. Current events, the weather, politics. Nothing about her, or himself...and certainly nothing about Alex Krycek. Despite the fact that they were driving his truck, apparently by his own stipulation, the man's name hadn't come up once. Maybe it was time to change that.

"What are your agents going to do with Alex?"

"That's confidential."

She knew a dodge when she heard one. "I have ways of making you talk, Mr. Skinner." When he barely gave her a glance, she continued. "It's an awfully long way to North Dakota, and I know a lot of show tunes. Granted, I don't have the greatest singing voice..."

He cleared his throat, hiding what looked like the beginnings of a smile. "What my agents do with Alex Krycek really isn't my concern anymore. If you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly following Bureau procedure myself."

"I noticed. It's not easy to follow the rules when saving your own ass."

For the first time, she felt that he was really looking at her. "No, it isn't."

"You believe him, that much is obvious. So either you knew about this all along, you're working for the same people, or you're sleeping with him too."

This time, he didn't smile. "It's a long story, Miss Jaegar."

"Sabryn."

"I have known about this for some time, and yes I once did work for the same people...before I wised up and got the hell out of the noose. But you can bet that if I ever got my bare hands on Krycek, I sure as hell wouldn't be sleeping with him. I'd kill the bastard."

She wasn't sure she wanted to ask. But as he pulled off the off-ramp onto the busy side street, and headed towards the nearest gas station, she couldn't staunch her curiosity.

"Why do you hate him so much?"

"If you want to hear the story from the beginning, we're going to need a lot more time." He gave her one last look as he turned into the parking lot. "I think you'd better eat something. Bad news is always worse on an empty stomach."

"You're not going to get a word out of her if she knows you're with me. You'd be lucky to get her to admit anything, even if you fucked her brains out, Mulder."

Alex sat in the back seat of the dark blue sedan, hands cuffed in front of him, staring out the window at the cars driving past them in the parking garage. Sitting in the front passenger's seat, Agent Scully ignored him as she flipped through her pocketbook looking for a phone number. It was a shame really. He knew that last jab must have riled her.

Glaring at him in the rear-view mirror, Mulder tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Although they'd only been sitting here a few minutes, the boredom and anxiety was obviously getting the best of him. Every time he met Alex's gaze, he quickly looked away. More than likely fighting the urge to sock him in the face.

"What are you hoping to get out of her anyway?"

"Why don't you shut up and mind your own business?"

Alex smirked. "Wouldn't it be a lot easier if you just walked up to her room, Mulder? Hell, I'll do it if you're too damned scared. I've already had my hands in Diana's panties. One more time won't kill me...I don't think."

He failed to mention that the woman hadn't been wearing the panties at the time. Still, Mulder swiveled around in his seat and was starting to reach for his fugitive when Scully stopped him.

"She's coming, Mulder."

There was no mistaking the irritation in her voice this time. Staring out the front window, Alex could see Diana Fowley stepping out of the elevator and heading for her own car. She carried a purse and a bag that was far too large to be a briefcase.

"Going somewhere?" he murmured.

"I'll be back," Mulder told his partner in a tight voice, as he opened the door and stepped out.

Scully set down her purse and unbuttoned her jacket, watching every move of the man she'd worked with for nearly seven years...and the ex he'd never mentioned. Sweeping the edge of her blazer out of the way, her hand in ready position to grab the pistol at her side. Leaning forward as far as his seat belt would allow, Alex spoke right next to her ear.

"I don't think anyone would blame you if you shot now and asked questions later."

She didn't bother to turn around. "Sit back and shut up, Krycek, before I decide to use this bullet on you."

With a slight laugh, he did as he was told. And even though he couldn't hear what was being said, the shock on Diana's face as Fox Mulder stopped in front of her was more than apparent. They spoke for a moment, her face friendly and open, Mulder's taut and accusing. She shook her head, immediately looking down to the suitcase she was carrying. Mulder leaned forward, intimidating her with his size, but she didn't back down for a moment. If anything she leaned even closer.

"Is it just me, or do they look like more than ex-partners to you?"

"Mulder's past is none of my business," Scully answered.

"Considering who that woman works for, I'd say it's every bit your business."

Finally turning in her seat, Scully shot him a lethal glare. "You work for the very same people, Krycek. And I don't give a damn about you. Why should I care about her?"

He braced his forearms on his knees, his face just inches from her. "Because I didn't sleep with your partner. And I sure as hell didn't marry him."

Merely a brief flicker of moisture in her eyes betrayed her calm exterior. Facing forward, she licked her lips. "It wouldn't have mattered to me if you had. He's my partner. Nothing more."

He watched her profile for a moment, waiting for the slightest crack in her composure. But ever as before, she was unbreakable. In all the years he'd known her, he'd never once managed to rile her. Luis Cardinal had, by killing her sister. And even though he'd been present at the time, Alex hadn't pulled the trigger himself so he couldn't take the credit for making that beautiful face shimmer with emotion. Somehow, he both admired her and despised her for that. She was a challenge, an unbreakable code. And still, only a heartless bastard could pierce the protective veil she wore. She was a true adversary. He loved watching her tick.

Yet even she couldn't hold his attention for long. Not even the spectacle of Mulder and Diana throwing accusations at each other in a darkened parking garage could do that. Because he could smell her. Not Scully, with her freshly washed hair and light cologne. Not Diana, with her heavy perfume and lingering stench of cigarettes. He smelled Sabryn. On his clothes, his jacket, his skin. Her touch on his flesh, her heat against him, the taste of her in his mouth. And even though he'd spent an entire night alone, in the confines a Federal detention center, he could still hear her voice in his head. See her blue eyes sparkling with laughter, and with tears. Cruel torture, inflicted by his own brain. The lightly musk-tinged, almond scent of her skin was all over his hands, as indelibly laced on his flesh as her presence in his memory. He wanted to spit the taste of her out of his mouth, to scrub away the smells with yet another shower, but he knew it wouldn't help. Guilty of deception or not, she wasn't about to go away.

Swearing under his breath, Alex forced himself to concentrate on the scene before him. Mulder made a grab for Diana's suitcase, only to have her slap his hand away. She was just reaching under her coat as he grabbed her wrist in a brutal grip and started towing her towards the car. Alex could see Scully reaching for her gun as she stepped out of the car and went to assist her partner. Diana struggled in vain, trying to release herself as Mulder pushed her against the hood of the car, but she didn't dare flinch against the woman who held a gun on her. Not showing the least bit of triumph, Scully held the other woman in her sights as Mulder patted her down and removed her weapons. And when Mulder spoke again, nodding towards the car, Diana looked up and met Alex's gaze through the window with murderous eyes. As Mulder held on to her, Scully holstered her gun and headed back to open the door.

"Get out."

"That would be a lot easier if I weren't wearing a seat belt," Alex murmured.

With a sigh of irritation, Scully leaned over and unbuckled his seat belt. She glared at him when he deliberately moved closer to smell her perfume, pushing herself away from him and grabbing for her gun once more.

"I said, get out."

"Yes ma'am." Scooting across the back seat, he unfolded himself from the tiny car and smirked at Diana. "If looks could kill...you would have put me out of business a long time ago, Fowley."

"Go to hell, you bastard."

"Been there, thanks."

"Is what Krycek told us true, Diana?" Scully asked.

Without breaking her stare on him, the other woman answered, "Depends on which version of the 'truth' this con-artist told you. His whole life is one big lie. I really can't tell you how surprised I am that you believe a word he says."

Just as he'd suspected, Diana was playing it cool. Alex almost had to smile. She was an even better liar than he was.

"You're saying you know nothing about the pending invasion?"

She had the nerve to look shocked. "Invasion? But how? Cassandra Spender disappeared, and the Consortium leaders were all killed."

"Not everyone, if we're to believe what he says." Mulder still had his fist in a firm lock around Diana's arm, unwilling to let go. "Krycek told us you're not only involved in Consortium activities, but that you're also the Smoking Man's mistress."

Her laughter echoed off the cavernous walls of the parking garage. "Did he tell you I was also Cleopatra in a former life? Really, Fox...he would tell you anything to get his ass out of trouble. You should know that far better than I do."

"Which brings up an interesting point, Diana. Just how do you know Alex Krycek?"

Just when he thought she was going to stammer and betray her own web of lies, Diana surprised Alex again. "Who in the FBI doesn't know Krycek? You've been after him for years."

"What about the suitcase?" Scully asked. "Planning a trip?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm visiting a friend for the holidays. What--did you think I was going to rendezvous with my lover at a safe base, and then honeymoon on an alien space ship?"

Her last few words were punctuated with laughter, causing Scully to grit her teeth. She turned her gaze on Krycek, and he could see her thoughts written all over her face. Maybe it was just a glimmer of doubt, but part of her wanted to tear him to shreds for making her look like a fool. Still, somewhere deep down, she sensed the truth about Diana...felt it every bit as much as he knew.

"I told you it was pointless asking her. Smokey has her every bit as well trained as a chimp."

Diana didn't even glare at him. The slight smile creeping across her face made him want to choke her. Turning her gaze to Mulder, she looked at him with pleading eyes. "Fox, you remember what happened the last time. Do you really think I'd leave you behind if I thought your life were in danger?"

"I don't know what to think anymore."

"Don't tell me you actually believe him."

Mulder stared at Alex, a shadow falling over his eyes. "What reason does he have to lie? Either way, he knows I'm not letting him go. Not this time."

"He's trying to turn you against me. To make a fool of you. Both of you," she added, glancing at Scully. "And if you ask me, he already has."

Before Sabryn could follow Mr. Skinner into the convenience store, Johnny walked up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. She wanted to shrug him off, to act like a petty and selfish child--but the truth was that he'd thought he was helping her, and she could no longer hold that against him. Besides, the newly developing bruise on his jaw, along with the continuing ache in her fingers, made her feel guilty enough.

"What happened back there, on the road?"

"Nightmare."

He gave her a knowing and sympathetic smile. "How are you holding up, Bryn?"

Crossing her arms, she hugged her jacket tighter to keep out the chill. "As well as I can, I guess. I just keep thinking about Mom and Daddy."

"Yeah, I know." He glanced at the store, before abruptly grabbing her arm and pulling her after him. "I think we might be able to do something about that."

They stopped walking in front of the pay phone, and Johnny dug in his pocket to find some change. Depositing four quarters in the phone, he dialed the number. Sabryn listened silently for a moment, cringing slightly as her brother proceeded to argue with their father, trying once more to talk them into leaving their home. These were people who stored bottled water and canned foods in their cellar, in case of the Millennium Bug. Why were they fighting so hard? Was it just to spite her?

Turning her head, Sabryn watched her niece and nephew playing with their Star Wars Light Sabers in the empty parking lot. The grins on their faces nearly broke her heart. While Jolie and Chris were excited about the trip and being able to miss school even earlier than the scheduled winter vacation, they had no idea what was really happening. They didn't know they might never see their grandparents or friends again. They had no notion of a fate even worse. To them, this was nothing more than a long camping trip.

Grabbing the phone out of her brother's hand, she pressed herself into the small booth next to him.

"Dad, I know you don't believe me, but I'm asking you for a favor."

There was silence on the other end of the line, and she could almost see her father's scowl. "What's that?"

"Just...just pretend this has nothing to do with me. If nothing else, come to North Dakota for your grandchildren. Do you really want them to move away, so you can't see them again?"

"They'd still be here if not for your story--"

"I know that. They believed me, and you don't...but that doesn't matter." Closing her eyes against Johnny's stare, she whispered, "I still love you anyway, Daddy."

The shallow gasp on the other end of the line wasn't her imagination. She could hear the phone being set down, and then silence. Just when she thought he'd hung up on her, her mother's voice filled her ear.

"What did you say to him?"

"I told him the truth."

Bernadette sighed. "Where are you, Amanda?"

She didn't bother to correct her mother. It was pointless anyway. "We're in Iowa. Look, we can't talk for much longer."

"I want to talk to my grandbabies."

"They're playing, Mom. We haven't told them what's going on."

"Well thank goodness for that much."

Casting a glance at John, she shook her head. By his frown, he got the message. "I just wanted you to know that--that I was thinking about you."

Her mother cleared her throat. "Did Carly remember to bring Jolie's bear? I remember how happy she was when you gave that to her. She looked just like you, carrying that ratty old thing around."

"Yeah, I think she remembered." She could barely get the words out of her mouth. "Please, Mom...convince Daddy to come up here. The kids need you."

I need you, she added silently. She couldn't say it out loud. Not now. But she still felt it. Despite everything.

"I really should go. I have a pie in the oven."

"Mom..."

The sound of the other end of the line going dead made her start. Hastily hanging up the phone, she squeezed out of the cramped phone booth and headed for the truck. Johnny wasn't even fast enough to catch her as she opened the driver's side door, climbed in, and locked it behind her. Her expression must have warned him, for he backed away before trying anything further. Resting her head against the steering wheel, she willed the tears out of her eyes.

Damn them. Damn them all to hell.

And yet, as she sat in the cab of the truck, breathing in the scent of leather, she slowly felt herself begin to relax. There was just something about that musky scent, so familiar, so *Alex*, that she couldn't help but smile. Part of her wanted to grab the gun in the nearby console, use it to hijack the keys to the truck from Mr. Skinner, and drive all the way back to Arlington. To search the hills until she was exhausted. Never resting until she found him. Her friend. Her lover. Her...something. But the rational part of her head knew that was idiotic. Take a lesson from the man himself, it told her. He never cared about anyone else. It was only when he chanced that very thing that he got himself into trouble.

The smart thing was to keep going. On to North Dakota and never look back. Save your own ass. It's the only one that matters.

Watching Mulder and Scully argue was about as erotic as soft-core porn. Alex leaned against the hood of the car, shifting uncomfortably in too-tight jeans, trying desperately to ignore the woman whose brown eyes pinned him with a lethal glare. Stuck between the same two cars as him, not daring to move lest Scully decide to make good use of that bullet, Diana seemed determined to stare a hole through his head.

"You're going to regret this, Krycek."

He turned his head to glance at her, gifting the bitch with a rare smirk. "It'll be a pleasure." Tugging at his handcuffs, feeling oddly as if his left arm had gone numb, he swore under his breath. "You know, I've got an itch right by my left nut. Would you mind scratching that for me?"

"I'll tell you exactly what I'd do if I got my hand down your pants--"

"Honey, don't flatter yourself. The day that happens, my only hard-on will be caused by rigor mortis."

Just as it looked like she was ready to lunge at him, Mulder and Scully returned. And once again, Diana wore an expressionless mask. Eyes as cold and unflinching as a doll's.

"You're free to go, Diana. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you," Mulder said.

"I should say so."

Alex couldn't believe his ears. "You're what? You're letting her walk?"

"She's done nothing wrong."

With a haughty tilt of her head, Diana picked up her suitcase and walked away.

"Son of a--"

Alex started after her, not about to let her go even if it meant dragging her back with one hand...but he didn't get very far before he was slammed back against the car with the full brunt of Mulder's body. His gun was pressed against Alex's neck, pinching flesh, before he could even open his mouth.

"I suggest you let it go before I decide to take offense to this little charade you've pulled, Krycek."

"Mulder--"

Scully's voice, barely audible, was the only other thing Alex heard as Diana started her car and drove away. Watching her go, he shoved back against Mulder. "Fuck. You just let her walk away."

Pushing aside Mulder's gun and stepping between them, Scully stared up at him with determined eyes. "This isn't over yet. Not by a long shot."

Unlocking the doors, Sabryn grabbed the soft drinks from Mr. Skinner so he could sit down. As he settled into the passenger's seat and fastened his seat belt, she could hear her stomach growling at the heavenly scent of the food he was carrying. Sure, it was all junk, but she was starving.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I got a burrito and a cherry pie."

"That's perfect."

He seemed pleased, and cracked a smile that was altogether breath-taking. She wasn't sure if he was capable of such an expression. "Shall we eat here, or get back on the road and eat as we drive?"

"I was hoping to reach Des Moines sometime tonight, if you don't mind?"

"That's fine." The truck made an awful as crunching sound as she put it into reverse, and she winced. It had been a long time since she'd driven any car, let alone a standard, and obviously her few hours behind the wheel last night hadn't helped any. "I hope Alex doesn't mind that I'm killing his truck."

Skinner didn't say a word. Eventually she got them back on the road and took a few bites of her lukewarm burrito. Finally, the silence became too much to bear.

"So...tell me about him. Why do you hate Alex Krycek so much?"

"Well, besides trying to kill me and using me as his errand boy under threat, he's a liar, a murderer, a traitor, a thief...you name it."

Sabryn licked her lips, fighting the urge to argue vehemently. The man he'd just described wasn't the Alex she knew. "He tried to kill you?"

"Yes. But I'm not talking about shooting me or beating me, although he's tried. I'm talking about something more sophisticated. You've heard of nano-technology?"

"I--isn't that what doctors are planning on using to open clogged arteries?"

"Exactly. Only, your 'boyfriend' decided to use it for just the opposite effect. I damned near died of cardiac arrest."

She swallowed heavily, not wanting to hear anymore. Not believing a word. And still...why would someone lie about such a thing?

Against all better judgment, she couldn't let the issue rest.

"Tell me all of it."

Part Two: Believe The Lie

Summary: What do you believe when truth is stranger than fiction?

For Allison, my dearest friend, who makes me believe the impossible.

"There is no shame in not knowing; the shame lies in not finding out."
--Russian proverb

"I don't know where he comes from, or where he's been, but he was a liar from the very beginning."

Sabryn tightened her hands around the steering wheel, staring at the road before her as if in some sort of trance. She couldn't look at his face. Somehow, hearing the story from a distance, it was easier to pretend Mr. Skinner wasn't talking about Alex. Not *her* Alex.

"He came to me five years ago, green, fresh out of Quantico. Your typical blue-flamer. Ready to kiss anyone's ass. Little did we know that he was working for the wrong team the whole time." She could feel his eyes on her, but didn't flinch a muscle. "He'd been sent to spy on Agent Mulder, to find his weaknesses. And when he did, he took full advantage of them. We have very strong reason to believe that Alex Krycek was involved in the abduction of Agent Scully."

Startled, she turned to stare at him. "Abduction?"

"I assumed you knew all about this. Mulder briefed me on your own abduction experience before we left Maryland."

"I--I didn't know anything about Agent Scully."

He sighed heavily, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "She was kidnapped by a man whose case Mulder and Krycek had been working on. They were partners."

Partners. Jesus. She could only imagine the animosity Fox must have felt when Alex turned against him. The expressions on their faces, when they met once again in Alex's apartment, became that much clearer. And she shuddered as another wave of guilt washed over her.

"The most likely scenario is that Krycek told Duane Barry where to find Scully, and told him to take her...that he'd be saving his own life by sacrificing hers. She was abducted that night on Skyland Mountain, and Alex Krycek disappeared from the Bureau."

"The most likely scenario...you mean this is all hearsay? You don't even know? How can you accuse someone of something if you don't have the facts?"

His voice became deeper, huskier, tightly reined as he spoke. "You have no idea who you're dealing with, Miss Jaegar. This man isn't some misunderstood hero. He's a highly trained counterintelligence agent and a skilled assassin. I suggest you remember that."

She swallowed heavily, feeling chastised. "He never lied to me."

"Silence is every bit as deceptive as a lie, wouldn't you say?" When she didn't answer him, he went back to his story. "He wasn't seen or heard from again for nearly half a year...but when he came back, he made his presence known. Tampering with the water supply in Mulder's apartment building, he set him up to take the fall for his own father's murder. But that was his doing, as well."

"You're saying he killed his former partner's father?"

"That's right."

She felt like she was listening to one outrageous lie after another. This wasn't possible. Sure, he was a spy. But her friend wasn't cold-blooded, was he? The man who looked at her the way Alex did couldn't possibly be the one Mr. Skinner was describing. She couldn't help the blatant disbelief in her voice.

"What possible reason would he have to do such a thing?"

"Like I told you, he's very good at following orders. Someone wanted Bill Mulder out of the way. And with the chance to take Agent Mulder down with him, it was too good to pass up."

Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Sabryn was suddenly glad her brother wasn't aware of this conversation. She'd never hear the end of it.

"Do you have proof of his involvement?"

"These men don't leave proof. Garnet agents are ghosts. They vanish."

"Garnet?"

"Global black operations specialists." The smile he gave her held no trace of humor. "The man you're so quick to defend is involved with a group even the CIA can't touch. But even with the fancy title, the Garnet boys are little more than glorified assassins and bodyguards. The real power lies in the Majestic Project. They're the ones orchestrating the alien takeover. Krycek is merely a thug."

"But he said--"

"He'll tell you anything to get you to believe the lie. That's his job."

Arguing with him was pointless. The story only got worse. The only thing she could do was concentrate on the road and drive.

"Mulder had Krycek once, and damned near shot him. If not for Scully's intervention, Mulder might have been accused of his murder as well."

Once more, his voice took on a solemn tone. "Krycek and another man were also involved in the death of Melissa Scully. They were waiting in Agent Scully's apartment. She'd been warned that someone wanted her dead, but they ended up killing her sister by mistake."

Sabryn was starting to feel sick.

"I met up with Krycek a few days later, when he and his friends decided to beat the shit out of me and steal a digital tape containing stolen MJ documents. I don't know what happened after that," Skinner continued, "but I imagine they tried to get to him. He disappeared again and only resurfaced after he was found selling secret documents to the French."

"'Get to him'...you mean they tried to kill him."

"Exactly."

She closed her eyes briefly. "I don't know if I want to hear anymore."

"We can't stop now. The story is just getting interesting."

"C'mon guys, open the door."

Alex fought the urge to shake off Mulder's hand as he stood impatiently in the darkened hallway. He could hear a scuffle on the other side of the door, and he stared up at the little camera above him with a smug grin. He could only imagine what Mulder's little toadies were thinking.

After a lot of clicking, what sounded like five or six locks being opened, the door swung ajar. Peering out with beady eyes, behind thick glasses, the blond-haired man stared at them down his pointy nose. Alex had to fight the urge to ask him when Wayne's World started filming.

"Let us in, Langly," Scully said, impatiently, pushing on the door.

"What's *he* doing here?" The blond nodded his head towards Alex.

"He's our prisoner, now open the door."

Standing back, the gangly man let them pass...never taking his eyes off Alex. From his long hair to his butt-rocker T-shirt, he looked to be stuck in the 80's. Then again, as the other two came forward, they all were. His troll-sized companion, complete with pony tail and finger-less gloves, gaped open-mouthed at Alex, while the business suit-clad narc stood with his arms crossed in the background.

"What the hell are you doing bringing him here? You trying to blow our cover, Mulder?"

Although Alex knew them well, through hours of video surveillance in several locations, he'd had no idea they were aware who he was. Then again, he wasn't particularly surprised. They had a knack for knowing things they weren't supposed to.

"This isn't about him." Scully stepped forward. "This is about the favor I asked of you."

The three men shared an uncomfortable silence. Obviously, whatever this favor was, Mulder hadn't been privy to it.

"It's all right. He knows," she said. "I told him this afternoon, just after we finished talking to Diana Fowley."

"The Foul one?" Langly asked, a hushed voice.

"Just get on with it," Mulder demanded, irritably. "What have you found?"

The man in the suit, Byers, if Alex remembered correctly, stepped over to the computer and swiftly began typing. Within a few moments, a whole new spread sheet came up on the screen. "Aside from what we've already shown you about the abductees and Diana's whereabouts, there have been several other developments of late--"

Fuck! He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. They were spying on Diana Fowley. Jesus, some people were so dense.

"You know, if you wanted to know about Diana's activities, all you had to do was ask."

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at him before staring at each other. Once again, the shortest man said, "What the hell is he doing here?"

They weren't in the least bit comforted by the cuffs he was still wearing. They watched him as if they thought he might be keeping a running tab with some sort of photographic memory.

"Krycek has told us that not only is the invasion imminent in less than two weeks, but that Diana is also the Smoking Man's mistress."

"Eewww!"

"The point is, we have no proof to back it up. That's where you three come in."

"If you're hoping for some proof of Fowley and Smokey doing the skinny shimmy, you can just forget it, Mulder." The short man scratched the back of his neck, his stubby fingers sticking out of those cut-off gloves like little sausages. "Even if we had such a tape, it wouldn't be safe for human viewing."

"What do you have?" Scully asked.

Turning his attention to Mulder, Byers said, "After the last threat of invasion, Scully kept us watching Diana. We didn't mean to go behind your back, but--"

"Just get on with it," Mulder growled.

"In the hopes that something might come up in conversation, we bugged Diana's hotel room and her former partner's home."

"Spender?"

"Yeah. However, shortly thereafter, Spender resigned and hasn't been heard from since...but that's not the end of the story. His residence is still being paid for, and there's someone living there."

Scully frowned. "Couldn't there have been a change in renters?"

"Not as far as we could tell. The lease is still under his name."

"Then who is there?"

"Whomever it is doesn't want to be found. They never leave the apartment. Their groceries are delivered and the payment is always slipped under the door. They don't answer the phone, they don't go on-line, and they haven't received one single visitor."

"So Spender quit his job and decided to become a hermit. What's so unusual about that?"

"Unless Spender grew breasts, not a thing," Langly interrupted.

Mulder stepped forward, all but forgetting Alex behind him. If the door hadn't been triple locked, and his hands in cuffs, he could have easily made a break for it. Still, his curiosity was piqued.

"I thought you said no one had seen who was staying there?" Mulder asked.

Byers used his mouse to open up a file on the computer. "Early one morning we were working surveillance and managed to get a picture. She only had the curtains open for a split second, and the capture is blurry, but this is it."

Mulder and Scully squinted at the picture, looking like a couple of cartoon characters. And even though he didn't really need to know, Alex stepped a bit closer. Then closer still. Peering over their shoulders, he had to blink several times to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him.

Jesus. It couldn't be.

"Do you know her?" Byers asked.

Mulder nodded. "That's Marita Covarrubias."

The steady drip, drip, dripping of the faucet was the only other sound in the tiny motel bathroom. Sitting in steaming water, her right leg covered in soapy foam and propped up on the ledge, Sabryn stared off into space. The pink razor in her hand made slow, even strokes up the length of her calf. But she wasn't watching what she was doing. She barely noticed the narrow line of blood sliding across her skin, only to fall like newly shed tears to the milky water below, disintegrating in little pink puffs in the water.

*They'll turn you against me...*

*Never.*

But he knew better than she did, didn't he? He'd never lied to her. But he didn't tell her the truth, either. For several more long hours, she'd sat in that truck with Mr. Skinner, her senses bombarded, listening to him tell the horrifying story of Alex Krycek. From the murders to his own inhabitation by an alien life form. From his escape from a missile silo to an apparent alliance with the Russians. He made deals, stole, cheated, lied, killed, and tortured. Most hideous of all was the deliberate cruelty he'd shown in nearly killing Walter Skinner just to get the man under his control. He'd done it slowly, methodically, painfully, and all with his victim's knowledge and utter helplessness. He was walking evil. And she'd fallen for his charm.

Shuddering slightly, she glanced down at the cut on her leg. She hadn't even felt the pain until it was far too late. Washing away the drying blood, she finished shaving her leg and lay back in the warm water. She was freezing...didn't know if she'd ever be warm again.

A sudden knock on the door made her start. "Sabryn?" her sister-in-law called out. "We bought a pizza. I thought you might like some."

She could barely summon the energy to reply. "I'll be out in a little while."

They were stopped in Des Moines for the night. They'd gotten three rooms in a cheap motel; one for her and the kids, one for her brother and Carly, and one for Mr. Skinner. She was grateful the children would be staying with her. She didn't want to be alone tonight.

With a shaking hand, she traced her fingers over the bruises dotting her flesh. She'd been attacked by a stranger, just for knowing Alex Krycek. It would seem she'd already paid a stiff enough price. But that wasn't where it ended. She'd grown to care for him, and in doing so she'd made a grave mistake. She was just lucky he hadn't tried to kill her like the others.

Swearing, she sat up straight and wrapped her arms around her tucked legs, resting her chin on her knee. She'd sworn to him she wouldn't stop believing in him, and now she was doing exactly that. The shame she felt was as comparable to that she often saw in her father's eyes.

No, God damn it. That wasn't the man she knew. He wasn't the one who had held her when she cried, who had told her some of his darkest secrets...who had taken her into his sanctuary even when it meant risking his own freedom. Alex hadn't walked away from the shadows of her past, and neither would she walk away from his. Doubt was one thing...full blown denial was another. Surely there was *some* good reason for what he'd done. And she couldn't pretend she hadn't seen the goodness in him.

Rising out of the water, letting the droplets run over her like little fingers, she unplugged the drain and reached for a towel. When she was dried and had gotten dressed, she wrapped the towel around her head and opened the door to the pungent scent of mozzarella.

"We were beginning to wonder if you were ever coming out of there."

Carly and the kids were sitting on one of the beds, an open pizza box at their feet. Jolie was flipping through the cable channels with the remote control, while Chris played with a long string of cheese. Sabryn had to smile. Those kids were two of her favorite people. They didn't judge her, and they hadn't ever let her down.

"Where are John and Mr. Skinner?"

"They both headed to their beds early. I guess driving took a lot out of them."

"I can sympathize."

Sabryn sat down on the bed next to Carly, her back against the head board. Taking a piece of pizza, she was content to eat in silence, but her sister-in-law had other plans.

"How are you doing, Bryn?"

"Fine."

"No, really. John told me about that man you were seeing. I'm really sorry."

"I know." Seeing that the kids were engrossed in the Jim Carrey movie on the television, Sabryn turned her attention to the other woman. "Do you think it's possible to be two different people at once?"

"What? You mean like split-personalities?"

"No. I mean...well, with different people, I tend to put on a different persona. With Mom and Daddy, I'm always defensive; with you and Johnny, I'm honest; with the kids, I'm playful. But it rarely ever mixes. You know what I mean?"

"I guess so. But it's all you. Whether you're Amanda, Mandy, Bryn, or Sabryn, you're always the same. You can't change who you are. No matter how hard you try."

Sabryn shifted uncomfortably and nodded.

"I was afraid you'd say that."

Part Three: Someone Else

Summary: Not everyone is who they seem to be.

For everyone who has followed me thus far. I love you all.

"In wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies."
--Sir Winston Churchill

After a long night in the frosty Iowa air, the cab of the truck was freezing. Sitting there with the engine running, Sabryn blew hot air on her hands and rubbed them briskly together. When she saw Mr. Skinner's hazy form walking towards her from outside the ice-coated window, she unlocked the door. Their suitcases were stored, and their breakfast of cold leftover pizza had been eaten. Yet when she saw the two steaming Styrofoam cups he was carrying, she nearly dived to take them from his hands.

"Oh, you are a God-send!"

Once he was seated and buckled in, she pulled out of the parking lot and made sure her sister-in-law followed. The sip of hot coffee, however scalding and black, put a smile on her face.

"About yesterday--"

Sabryn cringed. It was hard enough keeping Alex out of her thoughts. Hearing more about his nefarious deeds was the last thing she needed. "Look, Mr. Skinner--"

"I think I've given you the wrong impression about me. I did some thinking last night, and I realized that you didn't know what you were dealing with. I'm sure the news came as quite a blow."

"You could say that."

"That being said, I apologize for not showing you more sympathy."

She turned to look at him, meeting deep brown eyes that held no trace of the stubborn irritation she'd seen the day before. The lines had disappeared from his face, the harsh concentration and stress he bore on a daily basis having softened immensely. She could have sworn he looked like an entirely different person. Swallowing heavily, she nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Skinner."

He even smiled. No teeth, but it was a start. "That's another thing." He unzipped his wind breaker, revealing the turtleneck and denim shirt he was wearing underneath. "I may be a hard-ass, but I don't allow anyone to call me Mr. Skinner when I'm out of 'uniform.'"

Sabryn grinned, wryly. "Then what should I call you?"

"Walter will be just fine...Sabryn."

"You've got a deal." Swallowing another sip of her coffee, she cast him a sideways glance. "I think that's the most I've ever seen you smile, Walter."

"Don't get used to it."

"Oh, I don't know...I bet I can make you smile more."

"Is that so?"

"Just give me some time."

Settling his arm on the middle console, he watched the road before them. "Looks like we might have some snow before long. You still ok to drive?"

"I think I can manage. I miss snow. Can you believe it's so close to Christmas?"

"Seems years away."

"Less than a week. I should've asked you earlier...do you have any family that you should be calling?"

He was silent for a long time, before sighing heavily. "Other than a bunch of distant cousins I haven't seen in years, my only family is my brother, Danny."

"Don't you want to tell him what's happening?"

"Danny hasn't spoken to me in years, and he'd refuse my call if I even tried."

She watched the slight sadness wash over his face and then disappear in a blink when he met her gaze.

"Danny's old high school sweetheart is my ex-wife, Sharon."

"Oh. I guess he didn't take that too well."

"No. It was bad enough that I married her, but, in his eyes, divorcing her was the ultimate sin."

"Have you ever tried talking to him, face to face?"

"I haven't been back to Abilene in years."

"Abilene?"

"Texas born and raised," he said, proudly. "But I grew up closer to Odessa."

"On a ranch?"

"No, but we used to help my uncle on his. Not a day passed in summer when my ass wasn't glued to a saddle."

She couldn't hide the smile on her face. "I didn't know you can ride."

"Oh, hell yes. Even tried my hand at bull riding for a while...until I broke my collar bone and my mom damned near broke my ass for bein' so damned stupid."

"How old were you?"

"Ten."

"Good grief, you were just a baby."

"Well I grew up pretty fast. Dad passed away a few years later and we had to move to a trailer. Danny and I got jobs as soon as we could to take some of the burden off of Mom. And even though she only worked as a receptionist, she still managed to save enough to help us with college."

"You were very lucky. I wish I'd finished school."

"It's still possible."

Neither of them said it, but they both knew the possibility was remote at best. If the invasion truly was on its way, nothing would ever be the same again.

"In a strange way," Walter continued, "this is almost similar. I put off college for a war, myself. Although I doubt Vietnam was anything like what's coming."

"Given the way that one ended, I hope you're right."

Several long miles passed in silence, as they were both lost in their own thoughts. Scared, but even more afraid to admit it. Desperate to lighten the mood once more, Sabryn sat up a bit higher and pulled in a deep breath.

"Why don't you sing a Christmas song with me?"

He didn't even take a moment to consider it. "No."

"Oh, come on. It'll be fun. I'll even start."

"Sabryn, no."

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. "It's Christmas...baby, please come home..."

"Oh God."

"The snow's coming down, I'm watching it fall..."

"You sound terrible."

"Lots of people around. Baby, please come home."

"I don't even know this song."

"The church bells in town, are ringing the song. What a happy sound. Baby, please come home." She nudged his arm, trying to get him to chime in, but he stubbornly refused. "They're singing Deck the Halls, but it's not like Christmas at all. I remember when you were here, and all the fun we had last year."

"You sing like a dying animal."

"Ohhhhhh, ba-by please come home..."

And despite his obvious chagrin, not only was Walter smiling...the man was even laughing.

"You should have left him in the car."

"I have more trust for a rabid pit bull."

"Mulder, you could have cuffed him to the steering wheel. What's he going to do, hot wire the car and drive to meet up with someone conveniently carrying a hand cuff key?"

"I wouldn't put it past him."

Walking ahead of the two agents, Alex shook his head. They talked about him like a little kid...or as if he weren't in the same hallway. Pretty soon they'd resort to spelling everything they said.

Instead of returning him to the detention center as he'd expected, Mulder had taken him back to his own dingy apartment. Forced to sleep on the floor, his right hand cuffed to the agent, Alex hadn't been able to stifle the snide comment about Mulder's kinky sexual preferences. The bruise on his jaw was all he had to show for that remark. He'd learned his lesson and shut his mouth when he realized Scully would be spending the night as well. Unfortunately for both of them, she opted to sleep in Mulder's rarely used bedroom.

"I wish you had left me in the car, Mulder," Alex said over his shoulder. "I could've chewed my arm off like a wild animal and been long gone by now."

The only time he'd had the cuffs off in the last twenty-four hours was in a window-less bathroom. Even after the hot shower, his hand was still partially numb.

"Shut the hell up, Krycek."

"I think this is it," Scully said.

Mulder grabbed Alex's arm and stopped him before the wooden door as Scully double-checked the address. Giving her partner a nod, she knocked on the door. After waiting several seconds, she knocked again.

"Marita Covarrubias, this is Special Agent Scully. Mulder and I need to talk to you."

Still no answer. It obviously didn't surprise them.

Mulder started to reach for the door knob when Scully put her hand over his. The sudden crackle in the air was almost palpable. Alex stared at the two of them, fighting the urge to laugh. Jesus, they were so dense it was pathetic.

"Mulder, we don't have a warrant, or probable cause. We can't just break in."

"You really think she's gonna press charges?"

"She might--"

Before they could continue the pointless argument, Alex pushed Mulder out of the way and kicked the door open himself. Splintered wood flaked the floor as the door wobbled out of the way.

"Can we go in now, or would you two like to stand here in the hallway with your twisted little version of foreplay?"

Scully shot him a glare as she unholstered her gun and stepped in the doorway. "Marita Covarrubias, we just need to talk to you."

"I think we passed the just talking point when Conan here busted down the door," Mulder muttered.

The apartment was dim, lit only by the orangy glow of a few lamps and the small amount of sunlight filtering through the closed curtains. A cream-colored couch stood directly in front of them, a rumpled blanket and open magazine laying on the cushions. Stepping over to the couch, Mulder put his hand down on the cushion.

He mouthed the words "still warm, she's here" to his partner. Scully nodded.

"Ms. Covarrubias, you can make this a lot easier on yourself if you'd just cooperate with us."

Groaning in boredom, Alex flopped down into the chair across from the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. Mulder glared at him before peeking his head into the bedroom.

"Marita?"

Mulder froze in the doorway, and despite his determination not to care, Alex couldn't help but sit up a little straighter in his chair. He couldn't hear what Mulder was saying, other than soft murmuring. Scully stepped over to stand in the doorway, watching her partner while also keeping an eye on Alex.

"Mulder?"

"It's ok," he said, coming closer to the door. "She was just putting some clean clothes on."

Alex could hear a door opening, most likely the bathroom, and Agent Scully seemed to wince slightly. She lowered her eyes and stepped away from the doorway, standing back as Mulder led the former Special Representative to the Secretary General of the United Nations out of the bedroom.

Jesus.

She met his gaze with the same crystal blue eyes he'd come to know so well, but that was the only thing familiar about the woman who stood before him. Where once a proud, confident, and defiant soul existed, only a shell of an experiment gone wrong remained. And in spite of himself, he felt sick to his stomach.

Her lustrous blond hair was gone, leaving only clumps of fuzz over a bald scalp. Her skin was pale and blotchy, not the soft honey-gold flesh he'd once explored so thoroughly. Her hand shook as she raised it to her head, shamed at her own appearance, her fingernails bruised and tattered. Stubby eyelashes swept away sudden moisture. Surely not tears. Marita never cried. But this wasn't Marita, was it? This was someone else entirely.

Mulder led her over to seat on the couch, and she balled her hands up in her lap. Watching Alex with wary eyes. Looking every bit as calm as a mouse before a cat.

Sitting down next to her, Mulder ran a hand over her head. "I like the new look," he said, somehow making the comment sound affectionate.

"It fell out gradually," she said, opening her mouth for the first time. "But it's starting to grow back."

Her voice was scratchy, too quiet, nothing like the calm beauty he was used to. Before him sat the bitch who once betrayed him, and he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but pity. Even the idea that she'd once defied him, showing spirit he hadn't known she had, did nothing to anger him. It was a shame that spark of life was nowhere to be found.

"It's cancer, isn't it?"

Marita met Scully's gaze. "Yes."

"Why--why did you remove the chip?"

"I'd rather die than be their slave. Or their experiment."

Alex didn't need to ask to find out what they'd done to her. He knew all too well. When once he might have felt nothing but cold indifference, he lowered his gaze in shame. Because not only had he never fought the experiments on the black oil victims, he'd performed some of them himself.

When the fuck had he started to grow a conscience? Hardening himself to the job may have taken years, but he'd perfected it to an art. And now, after only a few short weeks, that stony facade was chipping away bit by bit with every passing minute.

*Jesus, Sabryn, what the hell are you doing to me?*

Mulder took Marita's hand between his. "You've been going to chemotherapy?"

"At the beginning, yes. But I didn't like being so weak."

Looking up at his partner, Mulder held her gaze for several long minutes. Finally, he said, "When did you remove the chip?"

"When Jeffrey first brought me here. He did it. Gave me bourbon for the pain," she added with a slight smile.

"Where is Spender?"

"Dead."

Scully took a step forward. "Dead?"

"He told me that he was going to clean out his office and that we'd leave here. He said we were in too much danger here. He was going to take care of me. But he never came back."

"How do you know he didn't leave, by himself?"

"He wouldn't have done that. He wouldn't have risked himself to get me out of that base just to leave me here."

Marita met Alex's gaze again, and he knew what she was thinking. That night, when Spender broke her out of the facility, was the last time he'd seen her. Spender had asked for his help, and he turned his back on them. He walked away, saved his own ass. As usual. And yet there wasn't a trace of blame on her face.

"Did he tell you anything before he left, about why he might have been in danger?"

"He knew too much. About his father, and their activities. And by refusing to play along, he became a threat."

"What about what you knew, and the things they did to you?"

Marita lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry, but I really don't remember anything more than what I already told Agent Mulder that night. Most of my memories are gone."

Before either of the agents could reply, Marita lifted her head once more and looked directly at Alex.

"He knows. He knows a lot more than I could ever tell you."

"I never did get him to sing along," Sabryn complained as she pushed her empty plate away.

Stopped in a noisy diner just outside Aberdeen, South Dakota, they'd crowded into the only booth available and ordered anything hot to warm their bellies. Snow fell steadily outside, blanketing the ground with a fresh layer of powder. More chilling than the snow, however, were the gusts of wind that burst in whenever someone opened the door.

"With the way you sing, I'm not surprised," John said, dodging her kick under the table.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood." She glanced at her niece and nephew, deliberately neglecting to mention why they'd been melancholy to begin with. "I think I did a fabulous job."

Walter grinned at her, amazing her again with that smile he just seemed to have produced. "I haven't laughed so hard in months."

"Watch it, before I kick you too."

Carly set down her mug of tea. "Mr. Skinner, I hate to change the subject, but I've been wondering just what your agents will do with Alex? Is he going to prison?"

"I can't tell you that for sure, Caroline. And please, call me Walter."

"Surely you must know something, Walter." She cast a glance at Sabryn. "It seems quite unfair for him to be punished after all he's done to help us."

John shifted, scowling. "Could we please not talk about Alex Krycek while I'm eating my dinner?"

Before Carly could reply, Jolie looked up from the place mat she was coloring and announced to the entire non-smoking section, "Daddy said Alex Krycek is a scum-sucking, motherfucker."

Sabryn could feel her mouth drop open and Carly paled, staring at her nine-year-old daughter with wide eyes.

"Wha's a motherfu--"

"Don't you dare repeat that word, Christopher!" Standing up from the booth, Carly pointed a finger towards the door. "Jolie Dawn Pruitt, take your brother and go out to the camper right now."

"But Mom--"

"Go!"

As the kids scurried away, Sabryn turned her attention to her brother and met his shamed gaze. To his credit, she could see out of the corner of her eye that Walter wasn't even smiling.

Pushing her way out of the booth, she passed the flustered waitress and muttered, "I'll have my pie to go, please."

"I won't be able to tell anyone a damn thing if you starve me to death. I haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours."

"Mulder, he's right." Alex stared up at Scully in confusion, suspicious of her sudden compassion for him. "You have to get him something to eat."

"I--I have some things in the kitchen," Marita offered. "I can make a sandwich."

Obviously reluctant, Mulder stood. "Get up."

Unable to push himself out of the chair with his hands, Alex glared at Mulder as the agent yanked him to his feet.

Marita hurried ahead of them, her bare feet padding across the carpet, in obvious haste to avoid him. She pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, standing far out of the way as Mulder led him into the room.

"I'm surprised you don't follow me when I take a piss, Mulder."

"Shut your smart mouth, or you'll be pissing in your pants from now on."

Leaning against the counter, Alex watched as Marita opened a bag of bread and set two slices on the counter. Despite her appearance, she still moved with the same grace she always possessed. And with the light hint of her shampoo in the air, he could almost close his eyes and remember her exactly as she'd been. Her face flushed with passion, lips parting to scream his name, fingernails clawing at his back. One deceptive lie after another.

Out in the living room, he could hear a cell phone ring, and the muffled sound of Scully's voice as she answered the call. A few seconds later, she pushed open the door.

"Mulder, I need to talk to you."

She glanced at Alex, before gesturing for Mulder to follow her.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Mulder, we're three flights up, and you and I will be closer to the door. Krycek isn't going anywhere."

Glancing back at Marita, Mulder sought her gaze. "You'll be all right?"

Alex laughed, without a trace of humor. "What the hell am I going to do to her?"

"I'll be fine," Marita said, softly.

Nodding, Mulder stepped out the door.

Alex wasn't quite sure what was more enticing--the chance to listen to their conversation, or to intimidate the hell out of the traitor who stood before him. Looking at her sickeningly panicky expression, the former won out in the end. Leaning closer to the door, not enough to accidentally push it open, he only caught mere fragments of what Scully said.

"...identified the intruder...had several aliases...been following her for weeks...just like Cardinal...no doubt looking for Krycek..."

Alex had already figured that much out himself. The man who'd attacked Sabryn, sent by the Syndicate, had been looking for him. Had been one of his own, a Garnet agent, sent to turn on him and take him down. Only she'd been in the way.

"...maybe witness protection...guards and security...safe, so he can tell us...may be our only chance..."

Fucking morons. They didn't know who the hell they were dealing with. Witness protection wasn't going to help him. These men knew everything. He wouldn't be surprised if they were watching him right now.

"What did you want on your sandwich?"

Marita's question drew him away from the door. No longer whispering, her voice sounded almost normal. She stood a little straighter, met his gaze and held it. He narrowed his eyes.

"Doesn't matter."

She pulled some packaged meats and a jar of mayonnaise out of the fridge, slamming the door and setting everything down with a loud clatter. Opening the nearby drawer, she looked confused for a moment, closed it, and opened another drawer.

"What are you looking for?"

"The knives. I always forget where things are."

With her back to him, she reached in the drawer before closing it and opening another one.

"Found them." She pulled out a knife and turned towards the counter, but the utensil slipped right out of her fingers.

As she dropped down the pick it up, she was about to smack her head on the open drawer when Alex stepped forward and closed it. Stooped closer to her level, he could just barely hear her whisper, "Take these, get out of here."

He met her gaze, and she grabbed his hand and shoved what she was holding into his palm. Out of one of the drawers, she'd found a set of keys. Among others, a small handcuff key.

"What the--"

"Go, I'll keep them distracted."

Now he was looking at the Marita he once knew. The proud, confident woman who could be as devious as any man in the Syndicate. Even with her balding head and sallow complexion, there was a transformed light in her eyes that was almost startling.

"There's a fire escape one floor down from that window. Jump down to it, and run."

"I can't do that cuffed."

"You have to, there's no time. Go, Alex. You have to stop them before it's too late. There's nothing more I can do. I'm not strong enough. And Agent Mulder won't let you go without a fight."

He hesitated for a moment.

"Go."

Heading to the window, he pushed it up in its frame, glancing back at Marita as she made some noise to cover the sound. Shit. It looked like miles to the fire escape. Putting his right leg over the sill, he looked back at her one last time. Neither one of them had to say the word, but both knew it was the final good-bye.

Bending to duck his head under the open window, he held onto the sill with a firm grip as he performed one hell of a contortionist's act to bend his other leg and get it out the window. Sitting on the window frame, he took a deep breath and leapt forward.

He hit hard on the iron fire escape, the boom echoing in the alley way, pitching forward and slamming his side against the railing. Pain ricocheted through him, hard enough to make him cry out loud. Cursing, he backed up towards the wall, heard Mulder's shouting, grabbing on to the ladder to the ground with the keys still in his grip. He didn't have time to climb down before a warning shot buzzed past his ear. Dropping through the opening, he hit the ground and rolled, fighting the pain, scrambling to his feet, and running like hell before Mulder decided to shoot again.

The crunch of snow under his boots announced John's presence before he ever spoke a word. Blinking the flakes from her eyelashes, Sabryn crossed her arms over her chest and continued staring at the truck stop across the road.

"If Caroline ordered you to come apologize, you can save your breath."

"Jolie needs to learn to keep her mouth shut."

She shot him a murderous glare over her shoulder. "Don't you dare blame this on that little girl. I'm so mad at you right now, Johnny, I don't even trust myself to punch you. I'd no doubt do permanent damage. I can't even believe you would say something like that in front of your daughter."

"I didn't know she could hear me. You know I'd never talk like that in front of the kids."

She let out a harsh breath, watching the cloud of vapor disintegrate before her face. "Why would you say it at all, after what I've told you?"

"Sabryn--"

"That man is saving our lives, John."

"One right does not cancel out the hundreds of wrongs he's done." When she didn't answer him, he put his hand on her shoulder. "You're going to freeze to death out here."

"Don't touch me." Turning to face him, she was sickened by the false remorse in his eyes. "What has he ever done to you, John? Nothing. And they have no proof for what they claim he has done...other than a few things Walter saw with his own eyes."

"Assault and attempted murder of a Federal agent, Bryn. A felony. You can't deny that."

"I didn't deny that. But people can change."

"God, you're so damned stubborn, and my daughter is becoming just like you. Take off the blinders before you crash, because it will happen. I'm trying to protect you."

"You can't hold my hand for the rest of my life. Some mistakes I need to make on my own." When he started to look away, she grabbed his face and held his gaze. "When I was a little girl, I used to worship you. You were like Superman to me, Johnny. Even when you teased and taunted me, there was nothing you could do wrong in my eyes. You took Daddy's place as the most important man in my life, because you loved me like he never did. But I can't hold that place for you forever. I won't."

He reached up to take hold of her wrists, blinking rapidly to whisk away the sudden moisture in his eyes. "I never asked you to. And I'm not doing this out of some warped sort of jealousy. This guy is bad news, Sabryn."

"Then that's for me to figure out. And it's not for you to comment on, or to judge...or to curse and scream about in front of a little girl and a five-year-old boy."

His voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Are you really?"

"I'm trying to be."

She gave him a half smile. "I guess that's all I can hope for."

Behind her husband, Caroline cleared her throat. "Walter was kind enough to take care of the bill, and we can get back on the road...if you're both ready to go?"

Pulling the keys to the truck out of her pocket, Sabryn nodded. "Yes, we are." She glanced back at her brother, adding, "But something tells me this isn't the end of the discussion for you, Mr. Pruitt."

Caroline licked her lips. "You've got that right."

Walking back to the truck, Sabryn met Walter's grim expression. "You all right?" he asked, softly.

"I'm never going to see Alex again, am I?"

"No, you're not."

She laid the keys in his hand and let out a shuddering breath. "I think maybe you should drive."

Part Four: Never Surrender

Summary: Time is running out and reality sets in.

For Diadem, who has been my champion and friend for one whole year now. I'm still amazed I haven't sent you running for the hills!

He who has nothing to die for has nothing to live for.
~Moroccan proverb

"Who wrote these directions, anyway?" Sabryn asked, squinting at the page. "It looks like chicken scratch."

"I did."

"Oh." She glanced at Walter sheepishly. "Sorry. Take a right onto the dirt road."

After stopping for the night and driving six solid hours the next morning, they were almost to their destination. Desperate for a bathroom and something to eat, Sabryn was practically bouncing in her seat. Departing ND 1, just north of Lawton, they'd driven for at least eight miles down the most deserted road she'd ever seen. No houses, no cars to pass, not a thing moving aside from the sparse snowflakes.

"Are you sure we're even in the right place? There's nothing out here."

"He said it would look deserted."

"Who?"

"Krycek."

Sabryn closed her eyes briefly, but it didn't matter. She could still see his face before her, as clear as the moment she'd last seen him. Angry, mistrusting, accusing. It was getting harder to remember him any other way. She'd only been away from him for a couple of days, but it felt like years.

"Alex told you to come here?"

"It was the best option, so I took it."

"Is it...his cabin we're looking for?"

"No. I never knew the man's real name. He was the Syndicate's London representative." Walter met her gaze. "If Krycek is to be believed, his name was John Victor Reginald. Reginald brought him here after rescuing him from the missile silo he was locked in four years ago."

"Are we near the silo now?"

"I believe it's about twenty miles to the North."

There was some morbid fascination that made her want to see the place, to know what Alex had been through. Maybe if she could see it, she'd understand what made him do the things he did. Just the very thought of him, weak and dehydrated, frozen with hypothermia, having given up on ever seeing a human face again, made her shudder. He'd been dumped in a hole in the ground, left to die, by the very man he once worked for. It was no wonder Alex made no alliances.

Sitting up a little straighter, she pointed to a break in the trees. "There's the turn. The cabin should be at the end of that road."

As Walter steered the truck around the corner, his cell phone started ringing in his coat pocket.

"Can you answer that?" he asked, nodding towards the back seat.

Sabryn reached for his coat and pulled the phone out. Pressing the talk button, she said, "You've reached Walter Skinner's phone."

She could hear Walter softly laugh next to her as the caller answered her.

"Sabryn?"

"Yeah."

"This is Mul--Fox."

She couldn't staunch the sudden blossoming of relief in her chest. "Fox, where are you?"

"Still in Washington. I've been trying to call since last night and couldn't get through."

"Maybe we were out of range."

Walter interrupted, "I had the battery recharging. I just turned the phone back on when we stopped for gas."

"Did you hear that, Fox?"

"Yeah, I did," he answered, sounding distracted. "Look, I need to talk to Skinner."

"I wanted to ask you--"

"Please, Sabryn, this is important."

"All right." Handing the phone to Walter, she impatiently bit her lip. She'd wanted so badly to ask about Alex, and their plans for him. Not knowing was driving her crazy. "He wants to talk to you."

It was odd to see the sudden transformation on Walter's face. Suddenly, he was back to being the Assistant Director again. The difference in expression was startling.

"Skinner." He listened for a moment, his eyes narrowing, before locking his jaw and exhaling heavily. "How much lead does he have?" More silence, and then a hushed curse. Lowering his voice, he kept his gaze trained on the road. "Damn it, Mulder, I can't believe you let this happen again."

Curiosity was killing her as they rounded the curve in the road and the cabin came into sight. And then the conversation on the phone faded into white noise.

My God. John Victor Reginald must have been one hell of a rich man if this was merely an occasional residence. The two story log home was larger than the building she lived in. Well, once lived in anyway.

The sloped metal roof kept the snow at bay, and the warm golden color of the thick pine logs looked as inviting as a soft blanket. She could see three chimneys, and couldn't wait to heat up in front of crackling fire. The place wasn't overly fancy, but large, surrounded by acres of trees and snow-covered fields. If she was going to face Armageddon, at least she was going in style.

"No, damn it," Walter barked into the phone. "Finish your business and get your asses on a plane. If we're lucky, I know where he'll show up sooner or later."

If that statement couldn't get her attention, nothing could. As Walter hung up the phone and tossed it on the dashboard with an irritated groan, she pinned him with her gaze.

"What's happening?"

"I think you already know."

"Alex escaped?"

He didn't say a word, just stopped the truck in front of the cabin and turned off the engine. Judging by the ruddy color of his face, he was one step away from losing his composure.

He silently got out of the truck and closed the door, heading for the cabin. Swallowing heavily, Sabryn unbuckled her seat belt and hastily followed.

"They don't know where he is?"

"No, but I think I know where he's headed."

She stared at him, before letting out a little laugh. "He could go anywhere. He wouldn't come here."

"Don't be so sure about that."

"Walter, Alex and I are just friends. No matter what it might seem like, I can assure you he has no reason to follow me. He's already had the vaccine and any area to the North is as good as another."

"That may be true, but he didn't give me specific instructions for getting you out of the state for nothing."

She ignored the slight flutter of her heart. No. Alex didn't want anything to do with her. "He'd be crazy to come here."

"No one ever said the man was sane."

She was about to reply when her brother pulled the camper to a stop behind the truck and Jolie hit the ground running. Racing up the front steps and nearly knocking her aunt over, she squealed.

"This place is so cool!"

"Don't get too excited," Walter warned. "We don't even know if we have power or running water."

Shaking off their previous conversation, Sabryn ran her hand over her niece's blond hair. "Why don't we go in and find out?"

Handing her the keys, Walter nodded. "I'll go help John unload the suitcases."

Jolie trotted over to the window and peered into the darkened room beyond, waiting impatiently as Sabryn unlocked the door and pushed it open. They stepped into cabin, letting their eyes adjust to the dimness.

"Wow, Bryn, look! It has a loft. Can I have that room?"

"You'll have to ask your Mom." Standing before the open living room, Sabryn shivered. It was no wonder there were three chimneys; it would take all of the fireplaces just to get this one room warm. And considering the six doors that led off the area, keeping the bedrooms warm would be a chore in itself. Reaching for the light switch, she frowned when nothing happened. "I guess we can forget about power."

"What about water? I gotta pee."

"Me too. Let's find the bathroom."

Opening the door nearest them, they found a closet stacked full of bed linens and towels. Next to that was a bedroom with one full wall of windows, spilling light onto the bare queen-sized bed. Just past that door was the first of the fireplaces, the main heat source for the living room.

"Maybe over there," Sabryn said, pointing towards the doors on the opposite wall.

Jolie hurried over to the first door and revealed another bedroom, this one with two bare twin-sized mattresses. Finally, opening the fourth door, Jolie found the bathroom and hurried inside. Before she closed the door, she cast a quick glance at her aunt.

"Go ahead, Sweetie. I can wait."

As Jolie closed the door, Sabryn turned around to see Caroline lumbering up the porch stairs with her sleeping son on her shoulder. Stepping forward, Sabryn gladly relieved the pregnant woman of her load. Chris stirred for a second before going limp against her and falling back to sleep.

"Thank you," Carly whispered.

"Sure."

"If I'd heard one more 'Are we there yet?' out of Jolie, I was going to spontaneously combust."

Sabryn stifled a smile. "Well, I don't think your troubles are over yet. It doesn't look like we have power."

"I heard Mr. Skinner saying something about a generator."

"Let's hope he's right."

"What about beds?"

"It looks like there are four bedrooms, as well as the loft. I think Jolie already claimed that for herself."

"I'm not surprised."

"I'll sleep up there with her, if you don't want her to be alone. I doubt you want Chris climbing that ladder."

"No, I don't. And that would be nice of you."

John stepped into the cabin and dumped the suitcases on the floor, stepping aside for Walter to do the same. Taking a look at the sheet-draped couches and table lamps, he shrugged. "This place isn't too bad."

"We don't have power," Sabryn said. "I don't know about water."

"But it looks like we've got plenty of blankets and fireplaces," Caroline added.

"There's a gas generator out back that we can use for the lights at night. We just need to remember to shut it off before going to bed." Walter nodded towards the archway at the end of the room. "And there should be a wood stove in the kitchen. If all else fails, we can heat snow and make our own water."

Burying her face against Christopher's neck, breathing in his meadow-sweet scent, Sabryn sighed. The place wasn't so great after all, but it was better than nothing. Still, it was hard to keep her mind focused on the cabin...instead of Alex Krycek. Praying he wouldn't show his face here. And hoping like hell that he would.

Meeting Sabryn's gaze, Walter said, "Take care of anything urgent. You and I need to go shopping."

"Now?"

"If you want to eat tonight and be able to see where you're going."

Passing Chris to John, she nodded. "OK. Just give me five minutes."

He'd watched the house all day, expecting an ambush. Several times he'd seen cars slowly driving past the area, seeming to crawl as they passed the property. If they were looking for him, they wouldn't recognize him. Driving a boosted pick-up and wearing an old smelly pair of coveralls he'd found in a Dumpster, he reached into the cargo bed to remove the empty toolbox...looking every bit as if he were about to repair Mrs. Johnson's plumbing.

The baseball hat on his head did a good job of concealing the fact that his false mustache didn't match his hair. If not for the nosy neighbors, he would have ripped off the annoying blond bristly object and stomped it into the ground.

Dropping his toolbox next to the wall, he went back to the truck and grabbed a clipboard full of papers. Keeping up the pretense of a man checking his work order. But the moment he was out of the line of sight from the road, standing in the familiar back yard, he reached into his pocket for the tools he'd found to pick the garage dead bolt.

A few seconds later, the smaller garage door was open, spilling light onto the rusty heap of metal that Mrs. Johnson called her car. A heavy canvas drop cloth covered the floor, darkened with oil spots the same ugly brown as the car itself. Decades ago, the 1954 Buick might have been a beauty. Now it was just a hunk of junk.

Soon to be his hunk of junk.

Stepping away from the doorway, he was about to head around to the front when he heard the distinct click of a hammer cocking. He froze, a string of obscenities running through his mind.

"Don't move," the deep, husky voice said behind him.

Alex suddenly relaxed rigid stance. "Who do you think you're fooling with that voice, Audrey?"

"Alex?" the woman asked, in a much higher-pitched voice. "Damn you, you scared the shit out of me!"

He turned around and stared at her, waiting patiently while she flipped the safety back on the gun he'd given her for protection. Half his size and as soft-spoken as a mouse, his landlady needed all the safety she could get.

"What the hell are you still doing here? I told you to get out of the state."

"And I told you I'm not leaving until I'm good and ready. My kids are coming for Christmas. It's going to be special."

He glanced out the door at the lights that decorated the house. Special...like a multicolored nightmare.

But it was useless arguing with her. She was as stubborn as the fat orange cat that was busily rubbing itself against his leg.

"Did the Feds search the garage when they were here?"

She nodded, pushing up her glasses. "They searched everything. But they didn't find anything in here. They didn't bother to lift up the drop cloth."

"Good. I need you to pull out the car so I can get the stuff. While you do that, I'm going to see what's left of the apartment."

The sad look she gave him spoke volumes. He knew the place was going to be a wreck.

"I didn't touch anything. I was going to clean up, but I didn't know what you had in there you might not want me to see."

Pausing in the doorway, he glanced back at her. "It wouldn't have mattered. Even if there's the slightest chance they missed something, all of the secrets will be out soon enough."

He could hear the rattle of the main garage door opening as he crossed the lawn. The few flowers that had survived the cool winter were either dying from recent frost or had been trampled by dozens of feet.

When he stepped down the stairs to his apartment, the door wasn't even locked. Pushing it open, he stared at the space in disgust. What hadn't been torn apart in the search for evidence was dumped carelessly on the floor. Lamps were broken; the mattress and bedding were torn from the frame and tossed aside; his bathroom cabinets had been opened, their contents thrown around like so much garbage. His leather couch had been all but stripped. He stepped over piles of clothing, pillow stuffing, his shoes crunching broken glass into the carpet.

"Fuck."

He fisted his hand, fighting the urge to hit something. It wouldn't do any good. Anything worth smashing was already in pieces. Sinking down onto the bare mattress, he ran his fingers through his short hair. Exhaling heavily, he ripped the false mustache off his face and let it fall to the floor with the rest of the mess.

Living the kind of life he did, it wasn't smart to get attached to anything. Most of these things were just possessions, easily replaced. But this had been his home. Not much of one, admittedly, but it was his own. Private and unspoiled, untouched by the foulness of the outside world. Until now. Until her.

Part of him wanted to hate Sabryn for that. For bringing the FBI right through his door.

But the rest of him could do nothing more than remember lying here with her between his sheets. Feeling her smooth skin beneath his, hearing her soft breathing in his ear, tasting the sweetness of her kiss. The way she touched him, reverently, tender and pure, like nothing he'd ever known before.

Reaching down to the pillow case by his foot, he shook the broken shards of glass from the fabric and held it to his face. Breathing in the slightest lingering trace of her. Wondering if she'd known she was the only other person to ever set foot in his apartment until that awful day.

Until he was betrayed.

Narrowing his eyes, he balled up the fabric in his hand, tossing it away from him, wishing he could do the same to the memory. He didn't know what to believe anymore. A smart man would pack up his few remaining belongings and get his ass as far out of town, and away from her, as he could.

Apparently, he wasn't as smart as he once thought.

Leaning against the handle of the plastic cart, Sabryn stared at the selection of cookies before her and shook her head. Until now, she hadn't been more depressed in her life. She was standing in the middle of the Devil's Lake K-Mart, trying to decide what type of cookie she'd like to eat before she died. If that wasn't pathetic, nothing was.

After two hours spent trailing up and down the aisles of Wally's Supermarket, the back of the truck was nearly full. And yet they still thought they needed more. There was no telling what was to come. Panicked by the upcoming Y2K dilemma, citizens were stocking up on anything and everything they might need in the upcoming days. Little did they know just how desperately correct they were. And if they didn't buy now, there might not be anything left.

Canned goods, boxed dinners, cereal, anything that might last. Gallon jugs of water, purchased not only for the water inside but to hold any melted snow they might later use. Pans and cooking utensils for the kitchen; toilet paper and shampoo for the bathroom; gas cans to fill at the nearest station and use for the generator. Candles, blankets, snow gear, batteries, toys and games for the kids. Still, it seemed they were forgetting things. At the rate the snow was falling, they weren't even sure they'd be able to make it back into town again if necessary. They had to get as much as they could now.

Glancing from the fluffy marshmallow Twirls to the Fudge Striped Keebler's, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. When she looked up she expected to see Walter heading towards her, but started slightly at the intimate stare of a stranger. At the end of the aisle, wearing a denim jacket, the red-headed man didn't bother to look away. He didn't even smile. His open appraisal gave her the chills.

*Maybe he just thinks I'm sexy.*

Oh yeah--dead tired, no make-up, no shower in twenty-four hours, and wearing sweats--she was Venus come alive.

She offered him a slight smile, hoping to provoke a response. He only continued to stare. She was about to forget the cookies and get away from him when she heard footsteps behind her. Walter stepped up next to her, holding a shot gun and a box of shells.

"Just when I was hoping John Wayne would come to my rescue," she said, softly.

"Excuse me?"

She glanced back at the end of the aisle, only to see that the man had disappeared. "I--nothing. I guess I'm getting paranoid."

Setting the box and the gun in the cart, he glanced at her sideways. "About?"

"Everything. I've avoided thinking about it all this time, but..." She reached for the box of fudge cookies and tossed it to him. "I realized these may be the last cookies I ever eat."

He blinked, silently nodding his head. "In that case, you better get two packages."

His attempt to make her smile failed. "Yeah, I guess so." She nodded towards the gun. "Worried about intruders?"

"That's the least of my worries. And I think we're going to need a lot more guns...but it's going to look suspicious if we check out of here with a cart full. We'll have to find a gun shop tomorrow. I'll use my credentials to get past the waiting period."

She swallowed heavily. "Ok."

After an awkward silence, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm assuming you didn't search every aisle in the grocery store, looking for teriyaki sauce, for nothing. I don't suppose you're going to make us something special for dinner?"

"Well, I have been told I make the best teriyaki chicken in the country."

"Is that so?"

The light teasing tone of his voice finally coaxed the smile to her lips. "Yes, that's so...but I don't have any pine nuts. They really make the dish."

"I think we can suffer through it."

"All right."

"And maybe even a bottle of wine to go with it?"

"To drown my sorrows?"

He cocked his head and smiled. "Something like that."

"If you dish us up some killer ice cream for dessert, you've got yourself a deal."

Alex walked back to the garage, disguise forgotten in heap in his apartment, carrying a plastic garbage bag full of his clothes. Audrey had the car idling in the driveway, the trunk open, parked in front of the open garage door. She was just pulling the stained drop cloth aside when he neared the car.

"I figured you'd be asking to borrow the car anyway."

He gave her a slight smirk and it was obvious by her nod that she understood his expression of thanks. Alex glanced back at the cement floor of the garage, and the now exposed wooden door flush with the surface. As Audrey pulled on the rope handle and the door opened, light spilled into the tiny room below...illuminating the stock he'd been accumulating for months.

Crate after crate of weapons, ammunition, and enough explosives to take out half the city.

"You do realize if you get pulled over with this stuff in my car, I'm telling them you stole the Buick?" Audrey asked.

He couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I know."

Stepping down the short ladder, he reached for the first crate and began hefting it up to her. About twenty minutes later, the car was packed. Empty crates littered the lawn, and Alex was using an old blanket to cover the rifles in the back seat. Picking up her cat, Audrey cuddled the orange fur ball to her chest, causing it to purr louder than a lawn mower.

Satisfied that everything was well hidden, Alex turned around and met her woeful gaze.

"Are you gonna say good bye, or not?"

She turned up her nose and blinked rapidly. "Of course not. And I'm not giving you this car for free, either."

He cursed under his breath. He'd known this was coming. Yet another one of her favors. He could only guess what it would be this time.

"You and I both know I'm not leaving here," she continued. "This is my house and no one--or thing--is going to drive me out of it. That being said, I'm not entirely cruel..."

"What do you want, Audrey?"

Before he could guess what she was up to, she plopped the cat down in his hands.

"I want you to take Cheeser with you."

"No way." He started to push the cat back towards her, only to have Audrey push back just as hard. Caught in the middle, Cheeser let out a low growl. "Damn it, I'm not taking your cat."

"She won't bother you. She likes you. And I want her to have a good chance. She's not old, like me."

"Neither are you, now take--"

Audrey was already walking away. "She's your cat now, Alex. You better remember to stop and let her out every once in a while, or she'll pee in the car."

"I'm not taking her--Audrey!"

He glared down at the cat, its chubby body hanging from his grip, tempted to drop-kick it back into yard. Undaunted, Cheeser stared right back at him with big golden eyes and purred.

"Son of a bitch."

Taking a sip of wine from her plastic cup, Sabryn watched her brother place his last card on the coffee table and raise his hands in triumph.

"I'm out!"

"You cheater."

He stuck his tongue out at her as Caroline gathered up the cards from the pile. Grumbling under her breath, Jolie counted her remaining cards, and promptly got ready to play again.

"I think it's time we went to bed," John announced.

"Aw, Dad..."

"Go, Jolie. It's almost midnight. I think you've played enough Uno for one night."

"I'll be up in a little bit," Sabryn told her as Jolie headed for the ladder.

After returning from the shopping expedition, she'd begun making her way around the kitchen, getting dinner started, becoming acquainted with the layout. Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen was surprisingly modern. Yet, to save gas, she'd chosen to use the wood stove to cook over instead of the range. It had been an experience she'd sooner forget.

The beds were all made, thanks to Carly and the kids. The sheets had been removed from the plush couches, revealing an inviting plaid fabric. Sitting on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, Sabryn leaned back and watched the flickering fire. The stock in the wood shed would last them quite a while, but there was no telling just how long they'd be here. Or if they'd ever leave alive.

She blinked away the thought, attempting to smile as John pulled his wife to her feet. Dressed in his fuzzy blue pajamas, the ones that covered his feet, Chris padded after his parents into their room.

"Good night," Carly called, from the doorway.

"Night."

Glancing back at Walter, where he sat on the couch behind her, Sabryn gave him an apprehensive smile. It was easy to forget the situation and pretend everything was fine in the presence of her family. The kids didn't know what was happening, and their innocent enthusiasm was contagious. But all alone, with the one man who understood what was to come better than any of them...she was defenseless.

The wine was creating a warm pool in the pit of her stomach, but even that didn't stop her shivers.

Licking her lips, she met his steady gaze. "Don't you ever get afraid, knowing what's coming?"

"I've had a lot longer to process this than you have."

She lowered her gaze.

"Yes, Sabryn. I'm afraid of what's coming. Anyone would be a fool not to be."

"I don't know whether to sob like a baby or laugh my ass off. The whole thing is so absurd. I keep wishing it was all a big hoax."

"I've lost too many nights of sleep worrying about this. All we can do is be prepared."

"You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple. Either we lay down and die or we fight. Either way, we can't predict the future."

Climbing to her feet, she sat down on the couch beside him and pulled the blanket off the arm rest to drape across her lap. Curling up her feet, she rested her head against the back of the couch.

"Have you ever made a list of things you wanted to do before you died?"

He was silent for a moment, staring at the flames. "No. Not exactly. But I think I would have liked to go snorkeling in the Caribbean."

Sabryn smiled. "That sounds nice. I always wanted to go sky diving. And visit Italy. I'd once dreamed I might go there for my honeymoon...but I guess I can forget that now."

He turned to look at her, obviously noting the change in her tone. His own voice softened in response. "Did you want children?"

"I didn't used to. But when Jolie and Chris were born, and I got to help take care of them, I fell in love with them." She tried not to imagine what her own children would have been like. The very thought made her eyes sting. "What about you?"

"Me? No. I mean, I guess I would have liked to at one time...but Sharon and I were too immature. We couldn't even take care of a marriage, let alone a child."

They sat in silence for a moment, before he hastily stood up. "Now that everyone is asleep, I think it's time we break out the good ice cream."

She grinned at him as he walked away, but was suddenly grateful for his departure. Wiping errant tears from her eyes, she took a deep breath and fought down the sadness. He was right, she knew. She couldn't surrender to despair. Not now. Not when everyone was depending on her. They needed each other. They were all they had left.

Sitting up straighter, she moved her feet as he returned and sat down. The two pint-sized cartons he held made her mouth water.

"Ooh, Ben and Jerry's. You weren't kidding about the good stuff."

"I thought we'd save this for emergencies."

She couldn't help but smirk as she took a spoon from him and pried open the lid. Since the refrigerator needed electricity to remain cold, it was useless to them. So, instead, they kept the ice cream and milk in a Styrofoam carton outside. Judging by the ice crystals melting under her fingers, it was plenty cold out there.

Digging her spoon into the rich chocolate and marshmallow, she took a bite and moaned. "Mmmmm."

Walter chuckled softly, opening his own container. "Well, I guess I was smart in picking out Phish Food."

"This is one of my favorites." She stared over at his carton with wide eyes. "I've never seen that one before. Is that new?"

"A limited edition."

She looked up to meet his gaze and blushed at the way he was staring at her. She could only imagine what she looked like, coveting his ice cream.

"Would you like a bite?" he asked.

She nodded. As he handed over his carton, she set hers in her lap. Digging her spoon into the frozen cream, she tugged hard to get her bite out, only to have the chunk go sailing through the air and land in front of the fire.

And she laughed so suddenly that she snorted.

Covering her mouth with her hand, she closed her eyes and giggled even harder. She could feel her face turning redder with every passing second. When she finally pulled her hand away and dared to open her eyes, she was so close to him she gasped.

She didn't know whether she had moved, or if it had been him...or maybe both. Whatever the case, his smiling face was right next to hers. His light after shave filling her lungs. The warmth of his brown eyes almost twinkling at her. And when he leaned closer and touched his lips to hers, she didn't pull away.

Heart pounding, fingers clenching around the ice cream carton, she shyly opened her mouth to his. Some odd little impulse she was too tired to fight. Softly, he brushed her lips with his own, the lightest whisper of moist contact, before a gentle tug at her lower lip. And then he pulled away, after mere seconds, and the carton fell out of her hands to roll across the floor, causing them both to start.

Walter reached forward to retrieve it, and she flinched. He glanced up at her, his smile suddenly gone.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

She wanted to agree with him, to say they were both wrong, but the words didn't leave her lips. Was it really so inappropriate? It wasn't as if she belonged to anyone. She'd likely never see Alex again, and there was a very good chance that she could be dead within a month. Why not take what he offered while she could?

Still, as he grabbed the carton and stood, she didn't stop him. She felt awkward enough as it was.

"I should go to bed. I think I've had enough wine and indulgence for one night."

She nodded silently.

"Did you want me to leave this here for you?" he asked, holding up the carton.

Pushing her own lid back into place, she handed him her carton as well. "No, I'm not hungry anymore."

He turned to go, but paused with his back to her. "Nothing happened, Sabryn. And I won't mention it again if you don't want me to."

Sinking down against the cushions, she squeezed her eyes shut. "Thank you."

She didn't hear him walk away or return to go to his bedroom, but several long minutes later, when she was able to open her eyes without cringing, she was alone. The generator no longer powered the lights, and only the soft glow of the fire remained.

On shaky legs, she made her way to the ladder and climbed up to her bed. Slipping between ice cold sheets, watching her niece sleep undisturbed.

Once exhausted and dead on her feet, Sabryn could only stare up at the ceiling with alert eyes...touching her fingertips to her quivering lips.

Part Five: Blue Christmas

Summary: What happens when you get everything you want for Christmas?

For my mother, my biggest fan, who brings me ham and cheese sandwiches so I don't have to stop writing. I love you, Mom!

Savor and taste each moment in life--for it soon shall be a memory.
--Shana Wiersum

With her feet covered in two pairs of thick socks, Sabryn sat on the couch trying to look cheerful as she threaded more popcorn on her string. Standing a mere five feet tall, their Christmas tree wasn't nearly as grand as what she was used to, but it served its purpose--both her niece and nephew were grinning more than they had all year. The tree was completely decorated in ribbons and bows, lit by tiny white battery-powered lights. Yet instead of the glorious angel that normally topped the Pruitt Christmas tree, there was only a hastily made star. Made by the kids' own hands, it was still special--but it only served to remind her just how unusual the day would be.

After three days in their new "home," Christmas Eve had finally arrived. Busily preparing for the coming days, she hadn't even noticed the date until it was already upon them. Keeping their tasks secret from the children was a chore on its own...but making the holiday special for them was wearing her sanity thin. The wood shed housed weapons recently purchased from the gun shop. Fire extinguishers were ready for use, and all of the guns had been loaded. The shed's door was locked for safety, but the threat was never far from her mind. She'd even been practicing her shot with Walter and John, far from the house, under the pretense of possibly going hunting later in the season. What they'd be hunting, even she didn't want to know about.

She glanced up at Walter as he walked in the door, carrying an armload of fire wood. Droplets of melted snow glistened on his coat, like tiny stars. He met her gaze and barely smiled. Ever since that night, that kiss, things hadn't been the same. There was an underlying tension whenever they shared the same space. She knew he wasn't angry at her, but he barely spoke to her all the same.

Poking her needle through another kernel of popcorn, she paused to slap her brother's hand as he tried to steal some of the decoration from the bowl.

"Ow. Jeez, you could share."

"Why don't you go find something productive to do if you're so bored?"

"Who says I'm bored?"

"You haven't sat still all day."

"I just don't get why we're all sitting in here staring at each other when there's two feet of snow out there to play in."

"Yeah, Dad," Jolie piped in, "can we go outside?"

"I don't see why not."

"Because it's freezing out there," Caroline called out from the kitchen, where she was busy making spiced cider.

"It's not freezing if you're moving."

Sabryn shook her head. "Johnny, we already built a snowman. What more do you want? I'm not helping you build some ridiculous fort so you can pummel me with snowballs like you did as a kid."

He had the gall to look shocked, making his kids giggle. "I did no such thing."

She rolled her eyes, before glancing at Walter. "Not only did he do that, but he used to melt them with his hands and turn them into ice so they were super hard when they struck. I'm lucky he didn't knock me unconscious."

For once, Walter actually grinned and shook his head at her. "I'm sure you got plenty of sympathy from your parents."

When no one answered him, his smile faltered.

Before he could say anything more, Johnny quickly changed the subject. "How about a game of football, with that Nerf ball you got at the store?"

Sabryn glanced around the room. "Doesn't seem quite fair to me."

"Why not? You know Carly won't play, and Chris is too young...so that leaves you, me, Jolie, and Walter. Sounds pretty fair."

"No, it doesn't! Jolie can actually play, unlike me."

John grinned. "That's why she's on my team."

"Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God..."

Shivering, her hands raised, squinting as the pink and yellow football sailed through the air, Sabryn prayed she'd actually catch it this time. The score was still zero to zero, but they'd been at this for hours it seemed and dinner would be ready soon enough. Still, she hadn't had so much fun in weeks.

She caught a glimpse of John rushing towards her, kicking up snow in his wake, just as the ball neared.

"Jump!" Walter shouted.

Shrieking, she launched herself into the air and felt the ball slide through her fingertips. She seized it tight before it could slip away. And when her feet hit the ground, she was still holding the ball.

"Oh shit!"

John was bearing down on her, with Jolie in fast pursuit, and she could barely feel her legs to run.

Shitshitshitshitshit! She spun around and took off towards the marked goal line, running as fast as she could through knee-deep snow. It was like running under water. John was barely three steps behind her, her niece was giggling breathlessly, and Walter was shouting enthusiastically for her to keep running. And just as she thought she was actually going to make it, she was hit from behind and thrown into the blanket of unblemished snow.

Sputtering, her face numb from the cold, she couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled out as John got to his feet. She was covered head to toe in snow, and some had even gone up her nose, but she didn't care. For once, all week, she wasn't terrified of the days ahead. She didn't give a damn about anything but getting that touchdown.

Grinning, Walter extended his hand to pull her to her feet. "Nice run. I think that was about thirty yards."

Blowing hot air on her fingernails, she polished them against her coat and coaxed a laugh out of him. "All in a day's work, Walter, my dear."

He didn't look away. He didn't even blink. The smile on his face didn't waver. And she suddenly shivered. Breaking the stare before he did, she walked back to where Jolie and her brother were standing and got ready for the next play. Praying that Walter wasn't staring at her ass as she hiked him the ball.

Caroline called out that dinner was ready just as Sabryn began to run for Walter's pass. He threw hard, the ball spiraling through the air, and she ran, only to have the pass fall incomplete. Two more plays later, she was getting discouraged. John stuck his tongue out at her as she bent to hike the ball and she glared at him. Tossing the ball back between her legs, she took off running. Dodging past her niece, intent on getting the points. She glanced over her shoulder to see John ram into Walter just as he tossed the ball. It wobbled through the air, off-kilter, and she darted to the left to get in its path. Jolie grabbed at her coat, trying to yank her down as the ball rippled towards her fingers. She squeezed hard, barely grasping the foam ball by the tip, and started to fall. Reaching, stretching her body, slamming into the snow just inches past the marked end zone.

"No way!" John moaned, making his wife and son shout with laughter.

Jolie climbed to her feet but Sabryn could only lay there, staring at the ground in amazement. She'd passed the line of pine branches. She'd actually scored. And she couldn't let go of the ball to save her life.

Chuckling, Walter bent over her and met her gaze. "I think we won."

She nodded, eyes still wide with shock.

"You can let go of the ball now."

Loosening her grip one finger at a time, she let the ball drop as he pulled her to her feet. He held his hand up, as he had on some of the previous successful passes, and she gave him a weak high-five. Bending over to catch her breath, she felt the icy air ripping at her lungs.

"Looks like they're ready for dinner. You coming in?"

"Yeah," she said, breathlessly. "In a minute."

He didn't make a move towards the door. Picking up the ball, he squeezed it between his hands for moment in silence.

"Look, about the other night--I know I said I wouldn't mention it, but--"

"You don't have to apologize."

"I wasn't going to."

She stood up straight and stared at him.

"I just wanted you to know that I wasn't sorry it happened. Only I should have waited, until I knew for sure what you were thinking."

She let out a humorless laugh. "You would have been waiting forever. Even I'm not sure what I was thinking."

"Are you regretting it? I mean--I am old enough to be your father."

"It wouldn't have mattered if you were eighty...although it probably wouldn't have been as pleasant."

He smirked slightly. "Then what's the problem?"

"I--I told you Alex and I are just friends. But that's not entirely true. Well, it is, but--I guess I have feelings for him."

"You love him?"

She wasn't imagining the disbelief and frustration in his voice.

"I told Johnny I did, but that was mainly to hurt him for what he did to me. The truth is, I don't know what I'm feeling. This whole--" She waved her hand between them. "This whole man and woman 'relationship' thing is completely foreign to me. The only man I've ever truly loved is my brother, and that's hardly the same thing."

"But there's a chance that you love Krycek."

She sucked in a deep breath. "I guess so. But there's also a chance that I was lonely and latched on to the first man to come along."

"So...what you're saying is that I should back off and give you some time."

"Time, yes. But I'm not asking you to back off. I like having you as my friend, Walter."

He watched her for a moment, silent, before offering her his arm to lead her back to the cabin. "I imagine they're probably wondering what we're doing out here."

She had to grin. "Knowing the way my brother feels about Alex, I'm sure he'd let us stay out here all night."

He was just about to reach for the door when she stopped him.

"Do you really think he'll come here?"

"Krycek? I don't know. But there's a good chance."

"I hate what he did to you, Walter. And I don't think I'll ever understand it."

"I think it's pointless to try."

She could feel her lip quivering. Before she could rationalize the impulse away, she stepped up onto the stair before him and cupped his face in her hands. Meeting his warm gaze for a second before touching her lips to his. With no hesitation. No regret. Melting her mouth against his like warm syrup.

He didn't move, didn't dare touch her for the longest time...surely expecting her to dart away like a nervous doe. But when his hands came up to grasp her waist, she did just the opposite. And when she felt his tongue against her lips, she didn't pause for a moment before blossoming to his touch. A brief but intimate taste of his mouth, swirling her tongue against his, before he pulled away and licked his lips.

Scratching the back of his neck, he smiled almost shyly. "I think we should go inside before someone comes looking for us."

She nodded, fighting the blush in her cheeks, allowing him to open the door for her. It was a big enough step for now, and she didn't need to linger.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder if it had been a promise of things to come, or a selfish rebellion against the first man to make her heart race in such a way.

Oddly, she woke to Christmas morning with the same enthusiasm she'd had as a child. Dressing as fast as she could, too excited to bother with heating the buckets of water she'd need for a bath, Sabryn climbed down the ladder just in time to see Jolie and Chris dragging out every package with their name on it. She grinned and flopped down on the couch, opening the candy cane she'd snagged as she passed the tree.

Grumbling, John and Carly staggered out of the bedroom still in their pajamas, groaning as they looked at the clock on the mantle. Sabryn had to laugh. Six in the morning. That was an hour more sleep than they'd gotten at this time last year.

"Merry Christmas!" she said, cheerfully, earning two sour frowns.

"Mmmph."

"Merry Christmas," came a voice from the door.

Sabryn turned to see Walter already dressed, heading into the house with an armload full of presents.

"Where have you been? Don't tell me you found a store open on Christmas?"

"No. These have been in my hiding place. You didn't think I'd keep them in the house, did you?"

"I didn't expect you to get us anything at all," she said, softly.

Handing her the small package at the top of the stack, he smiled. Something she was becoming gladly accustomed to from his face. "Now what fun would Christmas be without presents?"

Passing out the rest of his stack, he sat down next to her and met her amazed stare.

"You barely knew any of us a week ago."

"What can I say? I'm a nice guy."

"I guess so."

Jolie started passing out presents, directing Chris to do the same by reading the names for him. When the little boy padded over to Walter and handed him a wrapped box, the Assistant Director looked shocked. He read the tag on the package and raised his eyebrow at Sabryn.

"What fun would Christmas be without presents?"

"When did you have time to do this? You'd already bought all of your presents before we left Virginia."

"Not all of them. I did a little shopping while you were--" she lowered her voice to keep the kids from hearing, "while you were in the gun shop."

"I see."

"Unfortunately, I didn't have much money left, so I hope you're not too disappointed."

"It's perfect."

"You haven't opened it."

"I don't have to. I already know it's perfect."

Sabryn glanced at her brother and sister-in-law, to see them watching her and Walter. Suddenly, she could feel everything from her neck up turning red. She felt like dragging that smug grin off Johnny's face.

Drawing the attention away, Caroline asked, "Who's going to start?"

"The kids. They have more presents to open."

It started off innocently enough, but before long everyone was tearing open their packages with characteristic holiday frenzy. Wrapping paper littered the floor, thanks echoed in the open space, and laughter was abundant. If not for the change in location, it would have been just like any other Christmas.

But it wasn't.

She felt a bit of sadness as she opened her family's gift and saw the complete cedar case of acrylic paints and brushes, colored charcoal and pastels, with an accompanying sketch book. Glancing up at John and Carly, she blinked away the moisture in her eyes.

"Thank you, so much."

"You're welcome, Bryn."

Clearing her throat, she stood up hastily and headed for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder that she was getting some cider if anyone wanted some.

Yet the minute she was out of sight and ear shot, she sagged against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. Damn it. Her chin wobbled with the effort it took to hold back the sobs. Even with the indifference they'd dealt her in past, she missed her parents desperately. Missed the sacred beauty of Christmases past, when the only worry had been whether there was enough eggnog to go around. Wiping away the only hot tear to escape, she started at the sound of Walter's voice so close to her.

"You forgot to open this."

Her happy expression back in place, she met his gaze and sniffled. "Silly me."

Taking the box from him, she started to rip the paper off.

"You know, you don't have to be happy all the time. They're going to find out what's going on sooner or later."

"No. I want this day to be special for the kids. They deserve that much."

He tilted her chin up. "And what do you deserve?"

"This," she said, holding up the box.

"So open it."

She pulled off the last bit of paper to reveal a cellophane-wrapped cassette tape. Turning it over to the front, she read the title.

"Learn To Sing Like A Pro: In Five Easy Lessons." Looking up at his wide grin, she smacked his shoulder and started giggling. "You're evil!"

"But I made you laugh."

"Yeah."

Walking over to the cabinet next to the oven, he opened it and reached into the far back. Past all of the cast iron cookware. Pulling out a long yellow box.

"This is your real present."

"Chocolates! You're a genius. Thank you."

"You're welcome. And thank you for the gloves."

She wrinkled her nose. "They aren't too dorky, I hope?"

"Dorky? No." He pulled one of the black Gore-Tex gloves on to demonstrate. "They're very warm, and not too puffy. Just the right size to pull a trigger on a gun."

"That isn't quite what I had in mind when I bought them, but I'm glad they're useful."

Nodding, he gestured to the door. "What do you say we go back out there and watch the kids open their presents. I want to see their faces when they open mine."

"That sounds suspicious."

"Oh, come on, they'll love it."

Exhausted after hours of trudging up and down a hill, pulling the sled Walter had bought the kids for Christmas, Sabryn still couldn't manage to fall asleep that night.

She lay there staring at the wooden beams of the ceiling, a soft little smile on her face. She could still hear her niece's shriek of excitement when they'd open that last huge box. The kids had immediately rushed over to hug and thank their 'Uncle Walter'...a nickname that she'd noticed her brother did nothing to discourage. And despite her obvious dismay, Walter seemed to like the name so it stuck.

They'd taken turns sliding down the hill at the back of the property, careening around corners on one runner, managing to stay upright by luck alone. Her sides hurt from laughing and climbing the snow-layered hill. Even Caroline, who was deathly afraid of any ride that didn't have seat belts, had taken her turn on the sled. But it wasn't until the end of the evening, when Walter challenged Sabryn to make one more trip up the hill, riding down on the sled in front of him, that she'd truly gotten nervous. Together they barely fit on the small wooden sled, and she'd expected it to collapse at any moment...but the intimacy and warmth of sitting between his legs was what had really done her in. Clutching his thigh every time they rounded a corner, leaning back against his chest down the steepest slope, feeling his legs tighten around her with the excuse of maintaining his balance. She hadn't been able to breathe the entire ride.

Restless in her bed, with Jolie sleeping soundly next to her, Sabryn stared at the ladder to the living room. Watching the fire light flicker shadows over the rungs, seducing her like a beckoning finger to come closer. She hadn't kissed him again since Christmas Eve. Somehow, it didn't seem appropriate with her family so close. Still, she'd been tempted. More than once.

Ready to close her eyes and resist the urge to scurry down the ladder for one last kiss, her attention was suddenly seized by the sweep of lights outside a window below. Her heart skipped a beat. Silently wondering if the aliens had chosen to come early. Scared it might be armed military forces coming to escort them to an organized meeting place.

Most of all, she feared exactly what, in her heart, she knew to be true.

Alex had arrived.

Part Six: I'm Not In Love

Summary: I hate summaries...I'll think of something clever next time.

For every single one of you who voted for Midnight Angel in the Spooky Awards. You have my unending gratitude. Thank you.

"With lies you may get ahead in the world--but you can never go back."
--Russian proverb

A frigid gust of air wrapped around her bare ankles like shackles as she opened the door. Clutching the blanket she'd grasped from the couch tight about her shoulders, she stepped across the threshold onto the icy boards of the porch. Snow flakes melted under her feet, as she closed the door behind her and tip-toed towards the stairs. A sliver of light was all she had to see by, as the moon played hide and seek behind the clouds. But it was plenty bright enough to see the old car rumble to a stop just past the cabin before cutting it's engine.

Her heart was pounding. And as the door opened, she silently hoped he would mistake her trembling for shivers.

He stepped out and got to his feet, his back to her, looking far taller than she remembered. Wearing a heavy wool coat instead of his usual leather jacket, he reached into the back seat for something before straightening once more. When he closed the door and turned, freezing in place as he spotted her, her breath caught. He looked so...good. It seemed like an eternity before he bothered to move.

Crossing the space between them, snow crunching under his boots, he held her stare. Before he could reach where she stood, she found her voice at last.

"I think you forgot something."

He glanced back to see a chubby orange cat digging frantically at the window, meowing so loud it could be heard from where they stood.

"Shit." He stalked back to the car and opened the door--yet when the cat jumped down and its paws landed in the icy snow, it yowled even louder. Grumbling obscenities, Alex bent to pick up the cat, closed the door, and headed back to where she stood. His eyes dared her to say a word. "Damned cat's a pain in the ass."

Judging by the way the animal was suddenly purring and rubbing against his coat, the feeling wasn't mutual.

"You shouldn't be here, Alex."

He hesitated only briefly, in mid-stride. "Hello to you, too."

"Walter knows you escaped. There's no telling what he'll do when he finds you here."

"Walter?" The corner of his mouth lifted. "I think I can handle Skinner."

He stepped up the stairs two at a time, stopping just inches from her, as she said, "How? You don't have your Palm Pilot anymore."

He stared down at her, his eyes cold in the darkness. "So much for them not turning you against me."

She looked away, her throat constricting. "You will always be my friend, Alex. But you don't belong here. Not now."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I brought you here, Sabryn. You're lucky I bothered to save your ass."

She swallowed heavily, inhaling the familiar scent of him, her fingers twitching as she fisted them in the blanket. "Why did you?"

"Because I told you I'd make sure your family was safe."

"I can't help but wonder why a man who lies, tortures, and kills would give a damn about one broken promise."

His jaw visibly clenched as he slowly set the cat down on the porch. Even then, it continued to brush against him like a favorite toy. Sabryn frowned slightly as the cat's purring reached her ears.

"Exactly what lies has Skinner been filling your head with?"

"Are they lies?"

"You tell me. What did he say?"

"That you're suspected of killing your former partner's father, just months after betraying Mulder yourself."

"Bill Mulder deserved to die."

She gasped. She didn't know what was more shocking, his admission, or his total lack of remorse.

Leaning his right hand against wooden support at her back, he bent towards her, intentionally invading her personal space. The heat emanating from his body lured her like a drug.

"You want to know what kind of man he was? How he sacrificed one of his children to the devil while taking out his guilt and anger on the other, like a punching bag? How he was personally responsible for the abductions of thousands of children," he paused, "much like yourself...for the experimentation of alien genetics? You were lucky, Sabryn. You were returned, alive. Most of those kids suffered slow and painful deaths at his 'mercy.'"

She sucked in a shuddering breath, staring at his neck, unable to stand the piercing glare of his eyes.

"What about Agent Scully's sister?"

"Her death was an accident, and I wasn't the one to pull the trigger. I don't kill women."

"But you didn't stop it, either, did you?"

"I had a job to do, and I wasn't about to blow my damned cover just when I was earning their trust. But it didn't matter, did it? I was nearly blown to hell anyway."

"Why would they want you dead if you did your job?"

"To destroy evidence. I had the encrypted tape they wanted, and I would have taken the blame for Melissa Scully's murder...my death would have put a halt to any further FBI investigation."

She glanced up a bit, to his lips this time, noticing how close he was. And damn it, she wanted him to kiss her. Despite every instinct that told her it was wrong. Even with all she knew about him, she wanted him still. The only thing more pathetic was that she'd been thinking about another man only minutes before.

"You were locked in a missile silo near here, as punishment for selling government secrets to foreign countries?"

He didn't move a muscle other than bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "Yes."

"And you must have wanted revenge after that."

"I was buried alive. What do you think?"

Some little impulse of compassion made her lift her hand toward his face, only to flinch when he seized her wrist.

"You think you know me, Sabryn? You think you know all my dirty little secrets after a few minutes of Skinner's lectures?" He leaned so close his lips brushed her ear as he spoke. "You don't know shit."

Her eyelids drifted closed at the touch of his body against hers. Christ, even the mere proximity of him made her mouth water. She could feel her nipples hardening even more as they brushed against his chest.

"How long was it before Reginald brought you here?"

He backed away, taking a step towards the door. "I'm through talking about this."

"What about Skinner, and the Russian boy? How do you explain that?"

He turned on her so fast she stumbled over her own feet and slammed her back into the column.

"How do I explain that? It was fun. I got off on torturing them. It was a kick. It made me hard, Sabryn, is that what you want to hear?"

"You aren't scaring me."

"Oh, I think I am." His face inches from hers, harsh breath against her face, he sneered at her. "Do you know what it feels like to hold someone's life in your hands? To know that with a flick of your wrist you could end it all?"

She swallowed heavily. "Why the boy?"