They were lying in bed together, sated.

Krycek, who was tracing Mulder's body with his hand, took a deep breath.

"I have to go, Mulder. Two more days, tops. It's getting too hot out there."

Mulder knew better than to ask how Krycek knew.

"Are you certain?

"I've probably stayed here too long. If I stay longer, I risk you, and I don't want to do that. I think that knowing you're still alive out there will keep me going."

"That's all we'll have, won't we?"

"Yeah. I can't risk contacting you. One more night after tonight and that's it."

"One more night. How am I going to get through this one?"

"I'll help. You were so right. God has a twisted sense of humor. He gave us *this* only to take it away from us again."

Mulder was silent. A thought had entered his mind, something he'd only considered once before, and fate had intervened. It was a solution to this problem. He needed to find another.

"Take me with you."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"I'm asking to be with you all the time. I'm asking to watch out for you, to help you fight your battles. I'm asking to be on your side for once."

"You're asking to be out in the cold. You're asking to have no real address, no certain source of income."

"Money isn't..."

Krycek shook his head. "I know you have your own money. If you came with me, you would have to leave it behind. You could only take cash with you. You could be traced too easily."

"I don't care."

"Care about this. Care that you would be fighting on the right side but from the wrong direction. Care that Scully would be your enemy, that Skinner would be your enemy. Care that you would be violating that fine moral sense that's a part of you. I don't understand it, but I know that without it you would not be who you are. Care that I, and therefore we, would never have a place to call home, except each other. I can't do that to you. I can't risk your injury or death, and I won't voluntarily live in a world without you. Besides, Scully would find you in a week, and I'd be dead."

Krycek was clearly adamant. Mulder couldn't change his mind. That left only the one way out that he could see. He took a deep, sobbing breath.

"Oh, God, Mulder. If I could take you with me, or stay here, or find some other way we can be together, I would. Please, don't cry, tovarish."

Mulder smiled. "It's okay. This is just hard to say. Listen to me. I won't voluntarily live in a world without you, either. There's this story I read as a kid, an old science fiction story called 'Something Bright.' It's very old, written in the twenties or thirties. This all-powerful God like being takes this man out of our universe and puts him in another. There he meets this beautiful woman and falls in love. The problem is that she's not a woman. The all powerful being has changed their perceptions of each other. The beings in this dimension are physically repulsive to humans, and are repulsed by them. More than that, she's not truly female and to her he's the gender most appropriate to her. Also, neither could ever live in the other's universe. There is no way they can really be together. The problem is that they are truly in love, so much so that they cannot bear to be apart." Mulder clasped Krycek more closely to him.

"Can't the all powerful being do something about that?"

"He wasn't that all-powerful. He couldn't change the laws in either universe since they'd been set. There...there was only one possible solution. It seemed that there was one part of living beings that this godthing could not ever touch. It occurred after...after...death." He swallowed. "I will never forget how excited and joyful that man was when he realized they could die." He buried his head in Krycek's shoulder, not crying but breathing hard.

"You can't be thinking this. No way will we do this. I want to live with you."

"I want to live with you, too, but we can't. No matter what we try, we can't. It's only a matter of time for both us, and you know it. For some reason they've been holding off on me, but that will stop, and we know they're after you."

"That doesn't matter. If we do...what you want us to do, they will win. Who'll fight if we don't?

"Scully. Skinner. The three guys. We're not alone here."

"They can't fight as well as we can - you from the top and me from the bottom."

"Scully can do anything." He'd always believe *that*.

"Do you want to hand them a victory on a silver platter?"

"It's going to happen. Why should they choose when, and not us?"

"I don't want to die, Mulder. I want to live."

"When you go, will you be able to return, ever?"

Krycek took a deep breath. He was silent for a moment. "It's possible. Things might cool off, or maybe we can find a place to be together for a short time."

"A short time to last all the rest of the time. You know better."

"I don't want to risk your life. Mulder, if I can't risk your life to be with you, how could I help you end it?"

"I'm going to die when you leave anyway."

"What! You would do this anyway?"

"No. I don't have the courage to face the dark alone. My body will continue to live. I'll go to work and find my monsters and joke with Scully and maybe flirt with Skinner, but I'll be dead. I'll live only for those brief contacts we'll make in defiance of all danger."

Silence, again. "I'll die, too. I'll go through the motions of rebellion and living underground. I'll be leaving half of myself behind and I can't even protect you. I want to protect you."

"That's Scully's job."

"That's the thing I'm most jealous of. She gets to save your life. I only get to risk it. It's sounds bleak."

"It's what they want. If we...go through the motions...we'll make dumb mistakes. They'll get us sooner." Tears clogged his voice.

"You've actually thought this thing out?"

"No. I've been too happy to do that. Every moment, every time we make love, it's all been precious and wonderful. I've been living for those moments."

"How would you do it?"

"Drugs, I think. Nothing like a bullet. I could pull the trigger on myself, but I couldn't watch you or make you watch me. Drugs. An injection so we just go to sleep."

"Barbiturates. I can get that. Pills are for women, aren't they?"

"Men tend to use mechanical means, but a car accident has too much risk of one or both of us surviving impaired."

Krycek glanced at his left shoulder. "I'm impaired enough, thank you. I...can get them tomorrow. Oh, God. I think we're going to do this. When did we decide that? I don't want to do this!"

"Then we won't. I won't do this alone. I won't die without you, either. I'll wait until the day they get you, and I'll join you then."

"One way or the other, Mulder?"

"Only way we have."

Krycek kissed away the tears from Mulder's face. The agent was shaking. "You hate this idea."

"I do. I just hate the alternatives worse. It's going to happen. One of us will do this, unless they come crashing in on us tonight and kill us right here."

"The scary thing is that I almost wish they would, so I wouldn't have to say good-bye to you."

Mulder was silent. Krycek sighed. "So it should be our choice. I'll get the stuff tomorrow." His throat was suddenly dry. "Oh, God. We've decided. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. If I hadn't come into your life..."

"I'd be lonely tonight. No regrets."

"No regrets."

Even so, they cried themselves to sleep that night.

Things were different in the morning. Mulder woke up with a curious sense of peace. He lay there for a moment, tangled up in a sleeping Krycek, trying to figure out what it was. Then he remembered. And it felt right. They made their final decision. After today, nothing would ever hurt again.

Krycek stirred. He began to untie himself as usual, but he seemed calm. When he looked at Mulder, he gave his lover a heartbreaking smile.

"Good morning, Mulder. It's a wonderful morning." Actually, it was raining out.

"Yeah. It is. I'm happy."

"You, too? I should be scared, but all I can do is think that tonight can't come too soon."

They sorted out all their various limbs and emerged from the bed, one to make coffee and the other to shave and shower. Just the way they'd spent almost every morning this past week. Krycek even made breakfast.

"You'll be careful out there today?"

"I'll try. I've only been outside once since I broke in here." They smiled at that.

"I should give you a spare key."

"I'll just pick the lock again. You have the world's least secure lock."

"I guess there's not much point..." He didn't want to continue. Krycek stepped in with a change of subject.

"What are you going to do today?"

"Paperwork. I'll try to clear away some of it today, but I can't do too much or Scully will suspect something. She'll stop us if she can."

"Yeah, but which one of us would she shoot?"

"Both. But not to kill."

"Too bad. If she did, we wouldn't have to do this."

"Yeah. "

They finished breakfast in silence, but with caresses and heartfelt stares.

" I'll see you tonight, Mulder. Why don't you bring home Chinese?"

"Sounds good. About seven, say?"

"I should be finished by then. Have a good day."

"You, too."

Scully did wonder what was up. Mulder was more exuberant than she'd ever seen him before - it was as if he'd found a new X-file. He hadn't, though. He was dawdling his way through paperwork instead. He kept looking at his watch as the day wore on.

"You have an appointment, Mulder?"

"Sort of. I need to be home by seven, and I'm buying Chinese."

"Date, Mulder?"

"Yep. Date with destiny." He grinned a Muldergrin.

"Your friend again?"

"Yes."

"I thought this friend was leaving soon."

"Plan was for tomorrow. Plans change."

Mulder decided he gave too much away. Scully was probably thinking he was going to elope. Well, in a sense he was. They would be joined together forever, or so the atheist hoped. He just whistled until it was time to leave. He had to do one thing, though. He kissed Scully on the cheek, just a quick peck, before he ran out the door.

Krycek was waiting for him in the apartment. Mulder greeted him with as deep a kiss as he could, a kiss intended to reach his soul.

"You have the stuff?"

"Yep. The best I could get. We won't feel anything."

"You hungry?"

Just like that first night, they ate on the floor. This time, they began by feeding each other. And they shared kisses and cuddles and consumed all of the food.

They went to the bed to make love. The thought that it would be the last time by choice sent a chill down Mulder's spine, but, at the same time, it made his penis twitch. Who knew that death was so arousing?

They undressed swiftly. Krycek lay down, but Mulder just stood there. They both were still, drinking in the beauty of the other as if it were wine. Both men were erect and in serious need.

Krycek stretched out his hand, and Mulder took it and let himself be drawn down into the bed. They clung together briefly. Then they made love as they had so many times before. It didn't matter who was on top or who came first - just that they were indeed making love. There was one difference.

"No condom tonight, Krycek?"

"Not much point."

And that, despite the reason, was wonderful. They could actually feel the other's mouth, the other's body and just the touch sent them to new heights.

Then again, the reason itself proved to be just as arousing. They managed to make love twice that night.

Finally, they lay exhausted in each other's arms.

Mulder kissed his lover.

"It's time."

"Yes. Let me get the stuff."

Krycek returned with a case under his arm and a wet washcloth in his hand. They cleaned each other and the bed off. Mulder opened the case. There were two bottles of barbiturates and two syringes.

"Do I empty the bottles?"

"Yeah. It's supposed to be an overdose, after all. Fill the syringes all the way."

Mulder did so. He even carefully rid them of air bubbles. There were alcohol swabs. He smiled at the irony, but opened them anyway and handed one to Krycek before turning him over. He gave his lover a kiss and then swabbed an area over his buttocks. One swift push and the barbiturates were in his system. Quickly, Mulder turned over and let Krycek inject him. They put the syringes on a bedside table and settled into each others arms under the sheets.

"How long?"

"We should be asleep soon. And that will be that. Did you leave a note for your partner?"

"Yes. It's on the TV. She should come in around ten in the morning when..."he yawned "I don't show up."

Krycek yawned, too. "It's starting to work. Mulder...I ...there isn't any time. We never had time. Mulder...Fox...I love you. I'll see you on the other side."

"I love you, too, Alex. See you soon."

And so they slept.

**************

Mulder was right on the money. After putting Skinner off twice, and getting increasingly worried because Mulder was not answering his phone, Scully arrived at his apartment at 10:03 AM.

The place felt empty. The TV was off and he was between fish - he'd flushed the last batch a couple of weeks earlier and hadn't replaced them yet. He wasn't asleep on his couch.

She looked around. There were the empty cartons from a Chinese meal sitting on the floor. There were two plates and sets of chopsticks, and two containers of soup with plastic spoons sticking out. He hadn't been alone the night before, but he also hadn't eloped. A woman probably would have tidied things up before they left.

Besides, Mulder would have called her after the deed was done if he'd eloped. This was something else.

There was actual food in the kitchen - a fresh carton of orange juice, four eggs and a package of chicken legs. Mulder's idea of cooking was heating soup in the microwave. Someone had been staying here.

Okay. No one was in the living room or the kitchen. That left the bedroom. Last time she' d seen the bedroom, Mulder's bed had been piled six layers deep with books, clothes in various states of cleanliness, old folders and magazines whose contents she'd just as soon not know about. Even so, it was worth a look.

She stood in the doorway in shock. Mulder was in his bed, and with someone. At first her mind tried to make the figure cradled in Mulder's arms into a woman, but it didn't work. Mulder was in bed, tangled up in a man. That was clear because both were only covered halfway by a sheet. That was a decidedly male torso. She cautiously moved closer, so as not to wake them. Oh, dear Lord! That was Krycek, and they were lying there like lovers. And they weren't breathing.

Despite her horror, she couldn't help thinking how beautiful they both looked.

She took a deep breath and let the emotionless pathologist take over. There was no pulse, and the coolness and the rigidity of the bodies suggested that they had been dead several hours. There was no violent cause of death - no gun shots or garrote marks.

*Looks like he found a way to die that wasn't so undignified as autoerotic asphyxiation.* Now, that was an irrelevant thought. How did he die? There, on the night-table - two syringes. Two alcohol swabs and two small bottles. She checked the labels. They were barbiturates, and one would have been quite enough to kill both. Mulder was facing the center of the bed. She pulled the sheet down, and there was an injection site right over his buttocks. He'd *let* Krycek kill him. That meant that Krycek had done the same, but he was too stiff to move, and Mulder was weighing him down, so she couldn't check.

Her partner was dead. And he apparently had chosen to do so. It didn't make any sense. And he was lying with Alex Krycek, and that didn't make any sense, either. Something had to make sense. She had to do something. Procedure. She should follow procedure. What was the procedure when you found your partner dead in the arms of another man?

She should call the police. And she should call Skinner. After the last time, he'd probably come down to check for himself. And that would be a good thing. She didn't want to be alone with them.

She dialed the more familiar number first.

"Hello, Kim? This is Agent Scully. Put me on to Assistant Director Skinner, please."

"He's rather busy, Agent Scully. Is this an emergency?"

"Yes, it is. It's extremely urgent."

"Since it's you, Agent Scully...It's about Agent Mulder, isn't it?"

"Yes." She didn't trust herself to say more on that subject.

"One second, Agent Scully."

"Thank you." It didn't take long.

"Skinner. What's wrong with Agent Mulder?"

"Sir, I need you to come to Mulder's apartment right away. I don't expect you to believe me after the last time, but...Agent Mulder is dead."

"Again?"

"Sir, this is serious. Mulder apparently took his own life last night via a drug overdose. He's lying in his bed right now. He's ... not alone, either."

"Not alone. There's someone else in bed with him."

"Yes, sir. Alex Krycek."

"Krycek. Was there a struggle?"

"No, sir. They look like...like lovers asleep in each other's arms. Oh, God."

"I'll be right there. Call the police."

"Yes, sir. Thank you!"

The police came before Skinner did. They immediately began taking whatever they could as evidence - the syringes and the used lubricant tube in the bedroom, the two bodies, the Chinese food containers, the laundry on the floor. Scully made her statement as briefly as she could while she waited for her supervisor to arrive.

Just as he did, the police found an envelope on the television set marked "Scully." She put on a set of latex gloves and opened it.

Scully:

Fate and love are not always under our control. I did not choose to love this man, nor did I choose to be one who loves men, but this and that were what I was handed. What we were handed. I know you hate him and I should hate him, but I can't.

For a brief moment, I found the happiness in this life that had always eluded me. Fate was about to step in and take it away from the two of us. We could not be together in this world, and this world was about to tear us apart. So we chose to take fate in our own hands and find our own way together.

I know I've left you to fight on your own. I know you can, and I know you will have help.

Forgive us.

Good-bye.
Mulder

She wanted to crumple the note up, or to tear it into tiny pieces. The stupid, selfish, unthinking bastard!

"Damn him! Damn them both!"

The police looked up, startled at her outburst. Skinner, who was quietly questioning one of the detectives before looking at the bodies, stopped and went to her.

"Agent Scully, what's wrong?"

"Read this, sir. It's his...his suicide note."

Skinner looked at it. Like Scully, he had long practice in deciphering Mulder's handwriting.

"Rather melodramatic, isn't it?"

Scully didn't realize she'd been clenching her teeth until she had to relax them to speak. "Yes. It's very Mulder. Poor him, poor Krycek. They're a regular Romeo and Juliet. Or maybe Romeo and - who was that guy - Mercutio. No thought for anyone else but themselves."

"Was Mulder ever any different? How many times did he ditch you, Agent Scully?"

"Just because it's like him doesn't mean I have to like this. Why am I so angry? I should be sad, I should be upset. My partner is dead. He's lying cold as ice in the other room. The bastard is wrapped around his sworn enemy as if they'd been lovers for years. I didn't even know he liked men, sir!"

"Are you really so surprised? Official policy notwithstanding, a homosexual has no chance of promotion in the Bureau, unless he's very good at hiding. Mulder was good. He was even hiding from himself. So how could he let you know? His career was in enough of a shambles."

"But Krycek! Damn him!"

"Dana..."

"Let's just get them out of here. I know I can't do the actual autopsy, but I'd like to observe it."

"I understand. I'll make the arrangements. And then I'll call his mother. Again. I hope she believes me."

"Oh, God, his poor mother. Now she's all alone. Damn him. He is damned, you know. He died with at least two mortal sins."

"Dana, when this is over, you are going to talk to a counselor. You'd have to anyway with your partner dead like this, but I think you need it."

"Yes, sir. After we make the arrangements. And I tell my mother that I'm not going to be marrying Mulder after all." She could hear how bitter her voice was. She never wanted to marry Mulder. She cared for him, or she thought she did, but he was a little brother, not a boyfriend. Her mother had other ideas, especially back when everyone thought she had a biological time clock. Well, that was pretty moot, too. "I don't know what his problems were, sir, but I suspect that had he not kept them a deep dark secret we might have been able to help - protected his friend or something. Now we'll never know. Bastard decided to just run away."

Two weeks later, Scully was still angry. The will said to dump his ashes on Roswell, so she did.

"Dana, sweetheart, how are you doing?"

"About how you would expect, Mom. I'm arranging Mulder's cremation. His mother isn't up to it."

"What are you doing about the other boy?"

"Krycek? Let him go into a potter's field for all I care. If it weren't for him, I'd still have a partner."

"Dear, that's not right. He and Fox died to be together. It's only right that they be together."

It was a stupid romantic gesture, as stupid as the one that got them cremated in the first place, but she did it. And now she was flying in a tiny little airplane - just the sort she hated - over Roswell, Arizona, having dumped the mortal remains of her idiot of a partner and his criminal of a lover.

He had been brilliant and talented. Thanks to him, serial murderers were shut away from the light of day, or even executed. Thanks to him, conspiracies had been overturned and maybe they would have had a chance against whoever had abducted her, had made Emily, had taken his sister and turned his life upside down.

And they had been friends. They had never been confidants. That wasn't either of their styles. But they relied upon each other and trusted each other, even when he ditched or she made fun of his theories. And she knew he cared for her, just as she cared for him.

And the idiot threw it all away one night. She should have suspected something. He's moody for a week and then one day he's all happiness and calmness. But he was the psychologist, not she. She had her own silly romantic notion.

She sat up. She was as angry at herself as she was at Mulder. She couldn't do anything about Mulder, and she never could. He always went his own way, no matter how stupid or dark it was.

And it was over. No more silly jokes at a stake out. No more sexual innuendos just when she needed a laugh. No more brilliant intuitive leaps at almost no information. No more beautiful face made more beautiful by wearing those glasses while peering over slides of yet another cattle mutilation. No more sheer joy at losing time. No more smile that lit up entire buildings.

For once Scully didn't worry about being in public. She turned to Skinner,sitting silently beside her in the tiny plane, and began to cry. The tears didn't wash away the anger, but they were a start.

Copyright 1998 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates

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