TITLE: An Offer You Can't Refuse
AUTHOR: Meghan O'Connor 
EMAIL: gyrfalcon@yahoo.com
FEEDBACK: Please! The more I get, the more you get! 
DISCLAIMER: The LGM, Krycek, and anyone else you recognize are 
1013's. However, Rachel Ann MacGregor is all mine. 
SPOILERS: The X-Files, all up to the last season finale, and the LGM 
CATEGORY: Post-Colonization, LGM/other, Krycek/Other 
SYNOPSIS: Krycek makes Rachel an offer that tempts her beyond 
belief. Is it worth it? 
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Society is rebuilding after Colonization. All our 
favorites and a bunch of NPC's have ended up at an abandoned resort 
by a lake. It makes for a good place to rebuild a pocket of 
society. If I don't write Mary Sues, then I can at least have a 
promised land. Ok, maybe not that great. Argh, just read! This is 
Rachel's other alternate timeline. I call this the "Dancer" series.

Another Friday night, another invitation to dance. They stopped 
teasing her after the first four times when she almost exploded. By 
now, it was a weekly ritual. He would ask her to dance, she'd say 
no, he'd call her krasavitsa (which he wouldn't translate), and he'd 
leave. But this night was not destined to remain the same. Byers 
always surreptitiously followed her back to her cabin, making sure of 
her safe arrival. He slipped back against a building as Krycek 
stepped out behind Rachel and called to her.

"Krasavitsa." She spun at the tope of the steps to her porch. 
Seeing who it was, she simply sat on the bench next to her door. She 
made no protest as he came up and sat beside her in the moonlight. 
They didn't look at each other. It was a moment before she spoke 

"What do you want with me, Krycek?"

"Why do you punish yourself by loving a man who doesn't want you?" 
Byers was almost certain her eyes had sent off sparks in the evening 

"How dare you!" His grin was almost feral.

"But you didn't deny it. It's why you never dance with me, 
krasavitsa. You can't bear the thought of missing a chance that he'd 
ask you to dance."

A short little bark of self-deprecating laughter came from her 
throat. "You don't miss much. But still, what do you want from me, 
Krycek?" Byers strained to hear the soft voice as Krycek's words 
lightly stirred the wisps of hair around her ears as he leaned close 
to her.

"I want to put the light back in your eyes, krasavitsa. I want to 
see you smile again for no reason, I want to crown you with spring 
leaves that match your eyes. I want to see if you dance as 
gracefully as you walk. I want to know how your lips taste, and if 
they are as soft as the roses I want to put in your arms. I want to 
hear the ring of your laughter. I want to see you appreciated the 
way you deserve." He pulled away suddenly and stared out into the 
darkness. "I've watched you for a long time, Rachel. I know we 
could be happy together if you'd let yourself."

She had turned towards him. Byers especially could have told him 
that making someone paranoid wasn't a way into a relationship. "What 
do you mean, you've watched me for a long time?"

"Well… You were born in Santa Fe, New Mexico and raised in San 
Diego, California. You had a brother who was killed in a car wreck, 
and you're part Scottish, Rachel Ann MacGregor. You only wear black, 
but before the Colonization, you preferred to wear yellow and green. 
Fine choices for that copper colored hair of yours, which, by the 
way, you always wear in a French braid. You're 35 years old, no 
kids, never married. You hum folk songs while you work, hate doing 
dishes, and love to dance but never do. Oh, and by the way, you're 
in love with that blonde Lone Gunman."

Byers heard the gasp from his hiding place. "You bastard!"

"Yeah, but you didn't deny it. So, I have a proposition for you."

"For the third time, what do you want?"

"I told you, I want you. I want someone who I can have an 
intelligent conversation with that isn't waiting for me to shoot 
them. You're beautiful, intelligent, talented, a quick thinker, 
strong, and practical while being romantic. I don't want to see you 
waste all that on someone who'll never look at you the way I will."

"And what would I possibly get in return from a traitor and assassin?"

The pause was brief, and Byers chanced a glance. Krycek had moved 
closer and was brushing the hair from her eyes, caressing her face. 
Rachel was frozen like a rabbit on a highway. "What he can't or 
won't ever give you. I want to be the reason you smile again. You 
would get someone who wants to be near you, in the same room that you 
are, whose eyes are filled only with you. I would go to any length 
to protect you, and give you all that you deserve. Except maybe a 
Porsche, since those aren't made anymore. But a home, a family, a 
devoted companion, whatever you want. You can't tell me he'll ever 
stare at your mouth and wonder how it tastes, or imagine how soft the 
skin on you lower back is, or lose the ability to breathe when you 
laugh. You're not a fool, krasavitsa. Take my offer, and neither 
one of us will be lonely. I promise."

There was a choked sob as Rachel moved away from him. "I can't help 
but think what your real reason for all this is. I don't make deals 
with the devil."

"Good, because I'm not the devil. When you agree to dance with me, 
I'll know you've made the right choice."

Byers could see the whites of her eyes from his point in the 
shadows. She watched Krycek stand up and walk away, her mouth 
slightly open in shock and surprise. He turned at the bottom of the 
steps and looked up at her. "Oh, and one more thing. If you dance 
with me, there's no going back. With me, you won't look at the 
past. I can only give you a future." He turned and disappeared into 
the night. Rachel's voice floated softly into the night, thinking no 
one could hear.

"I thought I was supposed to fight the future."