These characters and their environs on the X-Files 
belong to 1013 Productions and Chris Carter.  No 
infringement is intended.  I just want to play with the 
boys for a while before I let them go back to the lives 
they don't have on the show.  This is just for fun, no 
money is being made from this.  

This story involves sex between two men, aka: slash.  If
that is *not* your cup of tea, sweet as it is, then 
don't read it! (simple, ain't it??)

Feedback is *very* much appreciated, and always 
answered.  Flames will be passed around to friends and 
chuckled over.  :)

Sixteenth in the Tapestry Series.  You might want to 
read the others first, just so we're all on the same 
page, here.  Previous stories can be found at:

http://members.tripod.com/~AiR_WSW/Amirin4.html

For Sickleweed, who wanted a story with a happy ending 
for the boys.  This will be about as close as I can get.  
And for Desiree, who wanted a story where Krycek doesn't 
die.  And for Toddie, for every other reason.

More to come...

Weft - Going  by Amirin <groh@iquest.net>  #145


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


I just held him in silence until he looked up at me and 
snickered.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" I asked, 
less pissed than amazed that he *could* laugh like this, 
with me, here.  In a hotel room, in a bed, still 
mostly-dressed, sticky and cooling against each other,
and...

I guess it was pretty damned funny, after all.

"Oh, Christ," he gasped, breath hitching and uneven as 
he rubbed a trickle of sweat off on my shoulder.  He 
fumbled behind himself for the twisted mass of sheet and 
wiped his hand off, then tugged on more of it to clean 
us both up.  Or tried to.  The effort was appreciated, 
anyway.

I reached over and grabbed the now-cool towel, still 
damp enough from earlier, and did a slightly better job.  

He was mostly clean, more so than I was, but I had 
clothes to change into, something I hadn't really 
thought about until then.

"We need to get you something else to wear," I mumbled, 
pitching the towel on the floor and rewrapping my arms 
around him.

"We can shop later, after lunch," he mumbled back, doing 
something I'd almost call 'snuggling' if I weren't 
talking about Alex Krycek.  "Of course, Chae will 
probably offer to do my laundry when we get there."

I snorted.  "Does he do that often?"

"Always.  Habit," Alex answered in a voice that sounded 
too relaxed to be called short.

"Bet he knows a dozen different ways to get rid of 
bloodstains," I sighed, my fingers combing through his 
hair.

"At least," Alex nodded against me with a 
slightly-blunted version of his usual sharp grin.

"About the bullet wound..." I started, but he didn't 
offer anything.  And I knew he wouldn't, couldn't.  I 
might get him to confirm or deny, if he was feeling 
generous, but he wasn't going to just *tell* me, like...

"Jesus fucking Christ, Mulder, ask me already.  Before 
you sprain something vital," he rumbled, blinking up at 
me with drowsy irritation.

"How'd it happen?"

I thought that was easy enough.  He could tell me as 
much or as little as he wanted to.  His choice.

"With a gun."

I waited.  And was just about to get a little hot when 
he started shaking again.

"Asshole," I snarled without heat, after all.

"Shit, Mulder..." he started, a snort escaping around 
the words.

"What happened to 'Fox'?" I interrupted him, this 
suddenly more important than why and how he'd gotten 
shot.  And I knew it was important, because the shaking 
of his not-exactly-laughter abruptly stopped.

"You don't like it," he admitted quietly and heaved a 
heavy sigh as he pulled away from me and righted himself 
slowly, getting his clothing back in order.

"That's not it," I argued, barely aloud, but he heard me 
and froze.  "You called me 'Fox' in Boston.  Hell, you 
called me 'Fox' last night."

"I don't want to piss you off."

"Bullshit.  Since when has that ever stopped you?" I 
zipped my jeans with a sigh and sat up next to him, 
near, but not close, and wondered what the difference 
was, between then and now, until I saw his eyes flicker
toward his jacket.

"Naked," he mumbled and shrugged again.

"What, you feel naked without it?"

He shook his head.  "*Them*," he stressed with a smirk, 
his hand going through his hair.

"You're not armed," I said with a frown and a slow nod.

"Mind like a steel trap," he rasped softly.  He wasn't 
exactly smiling.

"Rusty and illegal in seventeen states," I muttered back 
and he looked at me, confused, before a weak grin 
crossed his face.  "You can call me 'Fox', Alex.  Even 
if you're not armed with enough weaponry to liberate a
small country from the grasp of an evil dictatorship.  
Okay?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, getting up slowly and stretching.  
"Everyone I met in Riverview was calling me 'Fox'.  
You'll just confuse the hell out of them if we ever go 
back there."

I headed to the bathroom and looked back.  His eyes were 
frowning, but his mouth was grinning.  Sort of.

I'd take it.

Getting cleaned up again didn't take long and little was 
said until we were back in the Auburn and heading for 
the park.  Alex seemed tired and I was just 
feeling...hell, I didn't know what I was feeling.

Dammit, we'd had *sex*.  Basically.  Pretty much.

But apparently we still couldn't *talk* to each other 
without a time zone between us.

It wasn't like I expected it to mean everything, but if 
it had meant something more than nothing, I'd be a whole 
lot happier.

I probably wouldn't be making any more *sense*, but I'd 
be happier.

"Why are you thinking, again?" Alex whined from the seat 
next to me, head rolled toward me, eyes hidden behind 
sunglasses, hands hidden in leather gloves like the 
jacket he wore that matched my own.  "You shouldn't do 
that.  It's bad for your health."

"Is that a threat?" I snapped without really meaning to 
and I know damned well his eyes narrowed, even though I 
couldn't see them.

"Are you trying to start an argument?  With a man 
carrying enough weaponry to liberate a small country 
from the grasp of an evil dictatorship?"

I so love that amused sarcasm.

Not.

Shit.

I sighed and shook my head as I pulled into the park 
entrance, going around the  lake to the same lot I'd 
used last time, near the same tree.  I threw the car 
into park and killed the ignition and sat there, knowing 
he was looking at me, not knowing what the hell to do 
next.  

He had his hand on the door handle and with a, "It never 
has to happen again, Fox," he was out the door and 
headed for the trail.

It didn't take me long to catch up with him but I think 
he let me.  

"I don't want that," I practically spat at him and he 
shrugged.

"Like I said..."

"That isn't what I meant, Alex.  Stop, okay?  Just...
stop," and I reached out a hand to halt his stiff 
stride.  "I'm not trying to play the ravished virgin, 
here, all right?  I *started* it, for god's sake."

"Well, I wasn't going to mention that..." he trailed 
off, hands in his pockets and head down.

"Alex."

"It doesn't have to be more than it is," he offered 
quietly, looking back up at me.  God, I wished I could 
see his eyes.  "Just quit *thinking* it to death, all 
right?  Shit."

"I want you," I said softly, more just trying out the 
words to see if they fit than confessing anything.  I 
think I startled him.

"Walk with me; we're starting to draw attention," he 
muttered and I wanted to take the shades off him but I 
knew he'd flinch away and it would look damned strange 
to anyone looking.

We walked in silence for a while until we entered a 
small wooded area, unpeopled at the moment, and I was 
just about to open my mouth when he grabbed me and then 
my back was up against a tree and all I could do was
hold on when his mouth came down on mine.  I tore the 
sunglasses off him but it didn't even slow him down, he 
just kept kissing me, relentlessly, gloved hand behind 
my head, shielding me from the roughness of the bark,
even though there was no protection from the roughness 
of his kiss, and it went on and on and I couldn't 
breathe and almost panicked and he knew and gentled 
immediately and what had been harsh and hot became warm 
and soft and wet and...God.

He buried his face in my neck, breathing heavily, and my 
arms went around him, holding him far too tightly.

"Stop thinking," he ordered softly into my ear.  "Let me 
do the thinking around here, all right?"  And he eased 
away with a swipe of his hand over his mouth, red and 
bruised-looking.  I bet mine looked the same.

"That's not going to work forever," I caved, panting, 
leaning back.  Jesus, I'm easy.

"It doesn't have to work forever," he assured me with a 
touch of a gloved hand to my face.  

It didn't even occur to me to flinch.  Christ, he's 
gotten me soft. 

And hard.

Shit.

I just watched him as he stooped to pick up his shades 
and put them back on. 

"And another thing," he stated in his warning voice as 
he pinned me back against the tree with a rock of his 
hips and a hand tangled in my hair. "Do not *ever* tell 
me you want me when I can't do a fucking thing about it
without embarrassing the two of us.  Got it?"

I snorted before I saw his lips twitch, which seemed to 
please him, that I knew he was joking, mostly, even 
though I couldn't see his eyes.

"We've got some time before we're due at Chae's," he 
murmured with a smirk broken only by his lips on mine.  
"Any ideas?"

"Maybe," I shrugged, chest heaving against his, leather 
squeaking on leather.  And remembered Boston.  And the 
frog.  And couldn't help laughing.

"Christ," he groaned into a chuckle.  "We're *both* 
demented."

"Maybe," I agreed.  "Mating frenzy..."

He laughed roughly and shook his head as he kissed me 
again, fast and hard.

"I guess that's one way to put it."


~~~end