Author: Amazon X
Category: Gen, Alex POV
Rating: R, for language
Summary: Sometimes, you have to help your friends.
Archive: Tell me where my babies live, just keep the 'nym.
Disclaimers: I think CC can say he gives them up now.
Notes: This was a post-ep challenge for "Jump the Shark" from
Ursula, at "Alex H-C or D". She was very sad about the non-ep, and decided
that if Alex is still around, the Three Musketeers are still around. This is
for all Gunfen and Rat-lovers alike.
Author's Notes: Thank you to Ursula for giving me this challenge.
Mostly, thank you to my fabulous and amazing beta, Cynth, the woman
without whom I cannot work. She is amazing at her job and she works wonders on
my ego! I love you, woman, Godivas on their way to you!
I sipped at my coffee, looking down the slope at the rushing
coffee burned my throat like acid.
//Why did I agree to this? Oh, yeah, Mulder, that asshole.//
I could still hear the whiney, nasal bickering from inside the
cabin. I just
wanted my arm fixed, nothing special. But Langly had to convince
me he knew
what he was doing with special modifications. I put my cup down
to scrub my
hand over my scraggly beard. I had given up shaving for the
hadn't bothered since spring began months ago, either
I heard the footsteps, but didn't move. Byers appeared beside me
prosthesis. I took it from his hands.
"Langly's finished with it, Krycek. You can put it on again."
I unbuttoned my flannel shirt and began strapping it on. Byers
stand there and watch me. When I had the unit in place and
tested it, to my
surprise, it worked better than it had before. It was smoother
than it had been brand new.
//Sonofabitch, that blond freak really can do this stuff well.//
As I tested my new-ish limb, I noticed the brushed brown suede
shoes still on
the wooden boards. In an effort to unnerve the man, I slowly
dragged my eyes
up the length of his body. He just kept those deep blue saucers
//I never knew his eyes were that damn big.//
"Can I help you?" I asked with a little more venom than
"I thought it was a lie, you know. Before Mulder left, when he
you...I mean, there was so much emotion when he talked about you.
He said you
were a liar. I thought that story about your arm was a lie. I
should have looked for the truth in you the way I looked for it
"Yeah, well, maybe I never gave you much to look for."
"I'm sorry, Krycek."
"You *can* use my given name, you know. It really *is* Alex."
"OK, Alex. You may call me John."
"Got it, John. Hey, who made this coffee?" I lift my mug,
showing him my
cup of black, sweet liquid.
"I think Langly did. It's...um...strong. Sorry. I think my
better, don't you?"
I raised the offensive brew to my lips. As my face returned to
serene expression, I turned to the bearded man. "You tell him
that I don't
care how many times he fixes my arm. If he ever makes coffee
kill him myself."
I felt bad when the shock spread over Byers composed countenance.
know, I'm a former assassin, but this coffee really is shit. He
went in the
house without another word. I chuckled a bit at my power to
still shock the
I stood and chucked the leftover half cup of mud into the grass,
wouldn't kill the patch, turned and entered the cottage where I
the other three outcasts. Well, we're really not outcasts.
Langly and Frohike were at the worktable they had set up in the
turned-hobby-den. They said they wanted to be able to watch the
they worked, and the TV was in the living room. So we ate at the
//Why did I let Walter send them here again? He's gonna have to
to get *himself* in Arlington if this doesn't get better.//
I rinsed the mug in the sink and watched the three men working
They were repairing the hard drive of one of the hidden satellite
The sole reason we were in the mountains was to monitor the
Hemispheric skies. Mulder had his crew in Australia.
//Lucky bastard, warm temps and some of the best fucking beer in
And the hottest chicks who love Americans, to boot. I get a cold
three geeky guys and Coors. Fuck me!//
They worked well together, as I watched them. They didn't speak
other, maybe a few words here and there, but usually, they flowed
other, just fixing the electronics, each with a different piece
It was like poetry, ballet and magic in my presence. It was sad
had to hide. What will THEY do to us next?
That was it for me--and I knew I had to do something. I couldn't
go. My "death" was simple. Fake bullets, hide me from THEM and
Skinner smell like roses for having taken out the triple agent
they take their considerable collective wealth and hide me until
I come back
out. Not a bad trade. When Skinner contacted me, and Mulder
message almost begging me, to help these three, I was none too
After almost a month of living with them, I was coming around to
charms. We were stuck with each other. I needed their
how, they needed my protection, just in case. It was interesting
to see the
looks on their faces when they saw my arsenal. Byers was
was impressed like a teenager, and Frohike looked almost aroused.
It was interesting to see their differences. Langly was eager to
to shoot weapons, for protection. Frohike, he knew his way
around a rifle.
Byers was the hard sell. He settled on the basics of a handgun,
could never take up one of my high-powered sniper jobs against
person, even in his own defense. But he makes a hell of a cup of
So, I think I have come to the right decision. And the sad part
OFFICES OF RUNTZ CORP.
I waited for almost four hours before I heard the footsteps in
the hall. I
heard him scrape his lazy feet down the carpeted floor.
//He's drunk. Good.//
The door opened and he staggered in. I could smell the bourbon
room, wafting over to choke me with smoky alcoholic fingers. It
me from raising the gun to shoulder level, waiting for him to see
it when he
turned the light on.
The lights blinded me slightly, but my hand never moved. His
when he recognized the shape of the Glock 19 in my hand. The
across his lips and I waited for him to start trying to beg me
//Does the dumb shit even realize I'm not wearing a mask to
"Hey, buddy, what's the deal here? Can't we discuss this?"
I laughed at him.
"What's your name, pal?"
"Why do you give a fuck?"
"Well, I mean, you know me. Why shouldn't I know you?"
"I only know you because you ruined the lives of some friends of
"Oh, gawd, this again? Look, I was doing what I was paid to do.
is my boss. Just because they lost their minds and gave away all
to find her isn't my problem. Now, why don't you put away the
gun and let's
discuss this. I mean, I'm sure we can come to a...monetary
"Fletcher, you couldn't pay me enough."
"Krycek! That's who you are! Alex Krycek! Aren't you dead?"
He cocked his head to the side, still drunk, and realizing a
late that I wasn't kidding.
"No, but you are," and I began squeezing off rounds. He fell
smiled as I watched the life flow out of him, my pleasure to his
iodine to a gaping wound. I even chuckled as he reached out to
me, to try to
get help. I stepped on his hand as I left his office.
I sat on the back porch, drinking Byers' coffee, watching the
and purple of sunset fade beyond the trees. The satellites were
under the trickle of the creek, lulling me into contentedness. I
brew in the cup, smiling. The footsteps creaked along the boards
and the chair beside me became filled with Melvin Frohike. I
turned to him
and smiled. He smiled back. We looked up into the sky, I
counted stars, and
he watched me.
//They stare a lot. I didn't think I was this pretty. I'm
sleeping with the
Glock under my pillow.//
I turned to the man at my right. "OK, Mel, what's up?"
"Al, where were you two weeks ago?"
"Why? Does it really matter?"
He smiled, chuckled silently and shook his head. "Did you kill
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Frohike stood up and walked to the door. He stood in the open
at me. I continued staring at the sky.
"Aleksandr Nicholai Kryska, you can't fool me. Melvin James
smarter than that. So is John Fitzgerald Byers and Ringo Patrick
Skinner called us. Morris Fletcher was found dead, shot in the
and genitals. I assume the heart was for John, the emotional
one, the head
was for Langly, the brainy one and the balls were all mine."
"Well, maybe you're a ballsy kinda guy."
He turned to leave. I had to ask.
"Mel, one thing though?"
He turned back to me. "What's that?"
"Ringo? I thought his name was Richard."
The smile spread across his stubbled face. "Looks like you've
got quite a
bit to learn about us, too."
I laughed as he went inside. I felt comfortable at that moment.
comfortable as I could have been, with a Foster's and a hot lady,
but I was
contented. Soon enough Skinner et al. would figure a way to
THEM and we could integrate back into the world. Would I miss my
Yeah, I'd miss my friends.
For all Gunfen and Rat-lovers alike. No one is dead until Scully
Read me at http://yankeestarbuck.tripod.com