Title: Have You Been Here This Whole Time?
Author: Arsenic
Rating: R for violence and a slash relationship (nothing graphic)
Keywords: SLASH, XOVER (XF/HL)
Pairing: Methos/Krycek
Archives: Seventh Dimension, anywhere else that asks my permission
Feedback: Would be loverly
Summary: Fourth part of All Men Series, sequel to Saltwater and Gun Oil

Disclaimers: Methos is property of R/P/D, Krycek and Mulder belong to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions. The title of both series and story, as well as the quotes originated in the mind of David Mamet.

Thanks: To Skindy, for actually getting excited over betaing this, and then going and asking for more -- anything for you. Also, Dana, for agreeing to help beta and being gentle and thoughtful about it.

Dedication: To Aimee, for having an even-better-than-Methos bedside manner while attending this very sick author.

Have You Been Here This Whole Time?

Methos was watching Alex stare at the city lights with a profound sense of deja vu.

"You like cities at night?"

"All the lights, they make it seem not so lonely."

Methos smiled softly. "I'm going to take a shower, you want to join?"

Alex didn't turn to face him. "In a few, shout when the water is warm."

Methos headed into the bathroom. Alex closed his eyes, feeling safer than he had in days now that he was armed again. They had stopped at a somewhat out of the way place where nobody would recognize him and had gotten him a few "articles of survival." He was pretty sure nobody had figured out he was back in the city again. He opened his eyes on the tail end of this thought and it was instinct alone that sent him diving to the ground at the barest hint of a silhouette on the balcony.

No sooner did his body impact with the ground than his mind registered the glass shattering behind him. He felt sparks of pain in his right leg and shoulder but ignored them. His hand went to the gun in his waistband even as he was rolling over to get a visual on his assailant. By the time he had made it to his back, however, the other man was dead. Alex tilted his head all the way back to stare at Will, naked and dripping behind him, gun held at chest level with both hands. Silently, he moved his head back to where he could see the fallen man. The shot had landed in the exact center of the forehead.

"Nice."

"How'd he know we were here, Alex? Because he didn't come for me."

"I don't know; I don't even recognize this one." Alex attempted to sit up but hissed and fell back on the floor. His right thigh and shoulder, the side from which the glass had come at him, burned and throbbed hellishly. "Shit."

Methos was already at his side, having heard the pained noise.

"How bad?"

"Only two spots are bad, but the rest are gonna take awhile to find and remove."

"We have to get out of here. The body could conceivably be taken care of but not the window." Methos thought for a moment. "Alex, they found you here."

Alex spent a moment sorting through the pain to try and figure out why Will was repeating the thought in a statement instead of a question. Then he figured it out.

Which didn't help much. Okay, so the old guys had planted some kind of tracking device in him. It wasn't like he could go to them and just ask to get it removed. It left him with the problem of who had the equipment to find the device and help him remove it. Alex worked through every name he kept in his mental Rolodex. He swore silently when only one kept coming up as viable.

"Hoover."

"Hoover?"

"The building. Have to go there."

"You're delirious; the Hoover is hard to crack when you CAN walk straight or run for that matter."

Alex didn't have the energy to fight. Did Will think that Alex hadn't considered that as well as his other options? Instead, he slowly rolled onto his knees and laboriously pushed himself to his feet.

"Did I say delirious? Let's try insane." Methos allowed some of the outrageousness he saw in the situation seep into his voice.

Alex limped to the door, tucking his gun back into his waistband. Methos watched him and ran the mantra "there are limits" through his mind again and again. He watched as the injured man walked through the door and shut it softly on his way out. Methos stared at the door for a second. It didn't make any sense. Alex's first and foremost priority was to survive. So why walk into a situation that was sure to get him killed? Unless that was his only option for long-term survival. //Alex, they found you here.//

Methos sighed, pulled on some clothes, and followed the unlucky assassin out the door, barely breaking a jog to catch up to him.

^^^^^

Methos decided that he had once again underestimated Alex. Not that he minded this revelation. Alex reminded him of one of those really large puzzles, the kind you could let sit in your living room for years, every once in awhile stopping by and fitting another piece in to the picture. With each piece the overall work got more and more magnificent. Only Alex was better, because he didn't know what the finished product would look like, which made the construction of it all the more challenging.

After changing into some of Methos's clothes so that the blood wasn't visible, Alex worked his way into the Hoover Building without a hitch, aided by a magnetic key card and knowing where, when, and how to create diversions.

"I get the feeling you have some experience at this."

Alex smiled weakly at the assertion. "I have a strict policy of denying everything." The words came in a hushed pant. Methos saw the sweat of pain and flush of early fever condensing on Alex's forehead. They needed medical supplies soon.

"Where are we going? I swear, we passed sea level about four floors ago."

The jest won him another smile. "Mulder is not precisely the agent the FBI wants most visible. He's something of an embarrassment. His office is evidence of the fact."

Methos did not miss the note of wistful fondness that Alex was too hurt to cover up completely.

"The paranormal guy again."

"Let's just say we have a tendency to reassert our presence in each other's life given enough time." Having said this, Alex made an abrupt turn and stepped into a room with two desks and only one name on the door. Methos was not given time to contemplate this setup. The man, whom Methos assumed to be Mulder, shot up and hissed at them.

"Krycek." Mulder was around his desk and in front of Alex within seconds. Methos watched in shock as Mulder threw a punch, and Alex took it, not bothering to draw his gun or respond in kind. Instead, Alex hit the wall, right shoulder first. His eyes went a deep black, and he began to slide down the wall. Mulder looked slightly perplexed at this but grabbed the front of Alex's shirt and drew his hand back for another shot, only to find his hand would not move forward again.

It was at this point that Mulder deigned to look at the man who had come in with Krycek. Barely raking his eyes over the stranger, he returned his gaze to the man who was beginning to regain some semblance of balance.

"What, now you need others to help with the dirty work?" The words were clipped, as if he couldn't stand to waste air or time on Krycek.

"Oh, right, he brought me to help him do whatever it is you assume he is here to do so that right afterwards he could come here and patiently //allow// you beat the crap out of him." Methos smirked.

"Are you always this stupid? Because, if so, I'm not really surprised they stuck you down here in this prime office space."

Mulder had the dignity to shoot the stranger a dirty look.

"The one and only problem with having an office on this level is that I just can't seem to keep the rats away."

Alex's voice interrupted the verbal pissing contest. "Mulder, this is Will. He's a...friend." Mulder snorted.

Alex rolled his eyes. "I need help."

"Oh, well, of course that changes everything. What can I do for you?"

Alex ignored the sarcasm. "I think the elders put something in me. They are tracking my movement. I need to run a metal detector over me. Oh, and I could use a scalpel, some antiseptic, and bandages."

"I'll tell you what, you come up with a good reason for why I should help you with so much as removing a hangnail, and I might consider it."

"I can tell you where at least four of the bugs in your apartment are."

"You want me to save your life so that I can jack off in private instead of for a legion of old men? Maybe I'm more of an exhibitionist than you think."

Alex's eyes went flat and he nodded. "In that case I suppose all that is left is to appeal to your basic human goodness." The plea was not without edge, but Methos saw the desperation and more importantly the underlying belief in the words behind the tone. Mulder wasn't so perceptive.

"Humans aren't all that merciful with their own kind, let alone subspecies." Alex let the comment float in the room for a second before attempting to slip out of Mulder's grip. Mulder held fast.

"You might as well let go; I'm much safer here than anywhere I go outside of these walls. Murder is slightly harder to commit in a Federal Building."

Mulder didn't relax his grip. "Is that why you came here?"

"Where else -- " Alex stopped, took a breath and enunciated his next words. "Who else -- was I going to go to?" Alex watched as opaque green eyes shifted into a lighter green-gold. Softly, reluctantly, Mulder stated an order as he let go of the younger man and headed to the door.

"C'mon."

Methos caught Alex's arm to prevent him from sliding down the wall. A nod confirmed that the other man was okay and both men followed the agent.

^^^^^

Mulder managed to procure a metal detector and autopsy lab with relatively little trouble and no more than three strange looks. The people he asked for them were used to Mulder's abnormalities.

Alex dressed in a lab gown, and Methos ran the metal detector over him. It beeped at an odd place near the tip of his little finger on the left hand. This discovered, Methos patted the table, silently instructing Alex to turn onto his stomach. Alex complied, then grabbed the edge of the table with both hands and closed his eyes.

Methos surveyed the damage, outwardly impassive. He flicked on the magnifying lamp over the table and pulled it over Alex's legs. He walked up to the head of the table where Alex's knuckles were turning a chalky shade of white. He covered them with his hands, and green eyes flew open to meet pensive hazel ones. Alex wondered if eyes that color were a portent of something. One of the older man's hands came up and cupped his cheek.

"You okay?"

*Don't do this; just get the glass out of me; just cause the pain; just stop, please.* The thoughts rolled through Alex's mind unchecked, defying the steady, disaffected answer that came from his lips.

"Fine. I appreciate you doing this. I couldn't exactly ask him." Alex threw his head in the direction of the corner where Mulder stood, watching. "And I'm only so flexible." The hand on Alex's face moved up to cuff him lightly. Methos brought his face up to meet Alex's and whispered, "Good enough to fuck but not to care for, huh, Alex?"

Alex shivered as Methos moved away to start working. He wondered if hazel eyes came with psychological x-ray vision. Methos came back to where he had been standing and pried the left hand free. He turned the palm up and swabbed with antiseptic. He made a quick slit, almost immediately spying the tiny metal piece embedded underneath the soft flesh. He quickly freed it with the tip of the scalpel, splashed some more antiseptic over it and picked up a tiny bandage with some adhesive to cover the wound. He smashed the tracking device on the table.

"First part is done. Still with us?"

"I'm here."

Methos had to smile at the smoothness of the other man's voice. He moved to the right shoulder, using one hand to rub the clammy skin of his patient's back in calming strokes. He waited until some of the tension left the tight muscles before quickly making short cuts with the scalpel and pulling out the glass shard. He dabbed a liberal amount of antiseptic on the wound, as it had already begun to redden and swell. At the touch of the stinging liquid, the man under his hands jerked and moaned sharply. In the corner, Mulder winced sympathetically before he forced himself to remember who was on the table.

"So-rr-r-y." Alex managed to get the word out between pants.

Methos soothed his hand over sweat-soaked ebony hair. "It's okay; just one more like that; can you do one more?"

Alex nodded. "Will?"

"Yeah?"

"How many in the leg? Small ones?"

"Four." Alex nodded again, not knowing what else to do.

Mulder was in a quandary. Despite having spouted all the expected rhetoric about a lack of mercy towards sub-humans, watching a man suffer in front of him when he could alleviate some of the pain was possibly the cruelest act he had ever committed. He was not happy with this realization. Nor did he particularly delight in the sharp hiss that came as the second large glass piece was removed from Krycek. Silently, Mulder left the room.

By the time he returned, Will was almost finished removing the last of the small pieces. He let the man finish cleaning and sewing the last wound, watching as he sat on the table and pulled a half-conscious Krycek into his arms. His eyes widened slightly as the erstwhile doctor kissed the forehead of a man Mulder had forced himself to think of as nothing more than a betrayer and killer.

Mulder was surprised to feel an inexplicable animosity building in him towards the tall stranger and had just fixed a glare in that direction when Methos looked up. Methos recognized Mulder's look. Had seen it in the eyes of the man whose fiancee he had stolen once. Blind jealousy. Only this one wasn't aware of it. *We can only truly hate those whom we love.*

He wondered if the hotheaded agent could make the young enigma in his arms happy. Then he remembered Alex's determination that Mulder was the only solution to his problems. Such faith in the face of such enmity.

Mulder held his hand out and Methos noted he was holding a syringe and drug case.

"He can't afford it. As it is he is barely strong enough to fight off an attack, and we've been here too long. He needs every advantage. Speaking of which, we need to change locations." He rocked the man in his arms. "Alex?"

"We can't get in the way we came. Once is lucky; twice doesn't happen. We work towards the west side exit this time. Do you have a plan for where we go after here?"

"I'll be the one to worry about that part. I don't want you driving anyway." Alex acknowledged this by swinging himself into a sitting position with minimal help. He made it to his feet and started to put on his clothes with only a hint of unsteadiness.

"Mulder." The man in question raised his eyebrows. "There are four bugs that I know of. Two are in the living room: one in the ceiling, the other in your computer screen. One is in your bedroom in the southwest corner of the ceiling; you so rarely bother checking that room, it didn't have to be particularly well hidden. The fourth is in the control panel of your microwave."

Mulder didn't know whether to hate or to thank Krycek for actually giving him what he had promised. He was dizzy. Krycek looked beautiful. Even fever-flushed and worn-out he was a sight. But then, that was probably true of all the devil's minions. Only Alex had delivered something valuable to him in exchange for only a few minutes on a cement table and some rudimentary medical supplies. Squashing the feeling of sickness floating in his stomach, Mulder took advantage of this vulnerability.

"I want the DAT tape, Krycek."

"Funny, me too."

"You have it, asshole."

"Correction, HAD. It seems that I willingly gave it back while I was possessed. Or maybe they beat me for it; I don't remember. The former seems more likely though, because when I finished puking my insides out along with something black and quite disgusting, I didn't have any unexplained bruises on me."

"So, if you don't have the tape, what do they want with you?"

"I'm an inconvenience. I was supposed to die in the silo. The fact that I didn't is royally pissing someone off."

"You were in the silo?"

Alex had finished tying his shoes by this point. "Long story, and among the things I don't have right now is time." He walked to Methos and the two men headed towards the door. "Thank you."

It was so quick Mulder wondered if he'd conjured it. Mulder knew he hadn't; he wouldn't give Krycek that much credit. Mulder would like to think he wouldn't.

"Wait." Alex turned at the sound of Mulder's voice. "What are you going to do? I mean, long-term."

"Become a Jedi and save the fucking planet. Mulder, if I had a plan for the next three years of my life, I would know where the hell I was going to be sleeping tonight." *If I make it that long.* Next to Alex, Methos didn't bother to suppress his snicker. Mulder bit the inside of his lower lip and tried to talk himself out of what he had decided to offer. It was a waste of time.

"My family...my mother and I, have a place. A summer house."

"You guys never use that place anymore."

"Then I'm willing to bet it isn't watched terribly closely."

"If at all. I don't have anymore information for you, Mulder. I can't pay you for this one. Let's just leave off where we are; we're big boys." A wave of his hand acknowledged the man silently observing the proceedings next to him. "We'll figure out something."

"I know you will, but I figure this way, you don't have to kill anyone or do something to the detriment of mankind in order to achieve an end. Go to the house, Krycek. You can even take him with you." Mulder let his eyes sweep up and down Methos's frame in an expression of blatant distrust. "Key is in the loose stair at the bottom of the steps. There aren't any supplies, but there is a country goods store about ten miles out. Stay until you figure something better out."

"Maybe I'm a little more off my game than usual, but you think I killed your father, was an accomplice in the murder of your partner's sister, not to mention Scully's abduction, and betrayed you and everyone who mattered to you; so tell me what this is about, because I'm not getting it." Even as he said the words Alex was flaying himself for not just accepting the gift. Like it or not, though, gifts from Mulder to him were few and far between. They had become the things Alex held most secret so that when pain or fear were part of his everyday existence, he had the thoughts of those tiny acts of kindness to escape into.

"Call it wanting to believe myself the better man." The two men locked eyes. Mulder was the first to look away.

"Thank you." This came from Methos who had approached Mulder and taken the meds from him. Alex nodded his agreement. Both men turned and silently slipped out of the door.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Getting out was easier than it should have been, and Alex stored the knowledge in the corner of his mind where he kept track of the favors he had been given that Mulder had obviously helped them. Mulder was the only person he bothered to keep track with. He supposed the same was true of Will recently as well, but that could be justified. Will didn't regularly beat and interrogate Alex.

"I'll take you the roundabout way." Alex formed the words with great effort once settled into the passenger seat.

"While I see the wisdom in that, you aren't the most lucid I've seen you. Can you get us there without getting lost?"

"Yeah, I'm good for that long." He was too. Methos had to wake him up occasionally with a light shake, but he never lost track of where they were. When they reached the house, Alex instructed Methos on a place where the car wouldn't be easily spotted, and the two men made slow progress inside.

They worked together to close any blinds and curtains left open before turning on a few lamps and dimmer light sources. Methos searched, eventually finding a linen closet. He grabbed some sheets and pillowcases and went on the back porch to air them out. He came back in and made the largest bed in the house. Efficiently, he stripped Alex down to his boxers and propelled him into the bed. He took Alex's hand and placed a gun in it.

"I'll be back in twenty minutes; I'm going to that store Mulder told us about."

"You sure you can find it?"

Methos nodded. "I saw it on the way here. Try and stay alert until I return."

Alex nodded in turn and followed the instruction, surprised when the older man did return near to the promised twenty minutes.

"That was twenty-three minutes." He put on a look of reproval.

"Yeah, well, I had a to off a few people in the checkout line for that time as it was." Methos moved into the kitchen, and Alex smiled at the comeback.

"Get us anything good?"

"Food." A few minutes later, Methos emerged with the syringe kit. He drew in a specified amount from the bottle and tapped out the air bubbles. "Mulder may not like you, but he sure as hell got you the good stuff."

"He probably grabbed the first thing that looked like a painkiller.

Scully is the one who keeps him in one piece."

"Scully?"

"His partner. She's a doctor."

"I bet they get along beautifully." Methos sneered playfully.

"They work in their own way."

"Kind of like you and him?" Alex went silent, pretending to concentrate on the injection he was being given. Methos was far from fooled. He finished inserting the medication in the younger man's vein and massaged the area gently to disperse the liquid quickly. It was only moments before Alex's eyelids began to slide downwards. They came all the way back up by sheer imposition of mind over body.

"Will?"

"Yeah?" Methos slid his fingers in between the other man's in an instinctive response to the fear in Alex's hazed green eyes.

"If you'd stay until...the drug...wears off. I'd...appreciate...that."

"I'll be here. Go to sleep. Nobody will find us."

^^^^^

Somebody found them.

It was a couple of days after their arrival. Methos had kept Alex under when he wasn't trying to feed him, standing guard close to twenty-four hours a day. So it was that Methos was sprawled in the armchair he had pulled near to the bed, listening to the steadiness of Alex's respiratory pattern and fantasizing about feeling those breaths sneaking around his neck, over his chest, or up his legs.

Methos heard the cabin door open and shut and wondered how, with two of their men dead, that the people behind the assassins could keep sending such complete incompetents. Had the bullets been meant for him, he would have been amused. Methos shook his head, felt for the gun on the nightstand, and waited to take aim.

A tall figure crept hesitantly to the door and Methos drew the gun up before he realized what was wrong with the picture.

"Mulder?" He whispered it, baffled.

"How is he?"

"Healing. You shouldn't be here."

"I was careful." Methos believed him, but he wasn't about to let this fact be known.

"Why are you here?"

"That happens to be the X-file of the day; when I solve it, I'll be sure to get in touch."

"He mentioned those being your specialty."

"Why are //you// here?"

"We have a lot in common." Methos was surprised at how quick the answer came.

"Fantastic." Mulder reached into the pocket of his jeans and fished out a plastic bag. He reached in and pulled something out, slipping the object into his mouth. He dug in again and held out his hand with an offering. "Sunflower seed?"

"Not at the moment." Methos was beginning to understand at least part of what held Alex to this man. He smiled warily. "Thanks. Take a seat."

Mulder ignored the suggestion and walked to the opposite side of the bed. Methos watched Mulder's eyes as they surveyed the sleeping form.

"He's lost weight. Even since Hong Kong." Mulder looked up to explain. "That was when I last saw him."

"Me too."

"How long have you known each other?"

Methos ran his fingers along the armrest on the chair in which he was seated. *Surely he knows that curiosity killed the cat.* He looked into this new variable's eyes. *Oh yeah, he knows. But answers are all that matter with this one.* Methos wasn't sure that the other man's drive was really all that upsetting to him. He wondered how much of the truth he could feed him and how far Mulder would go to get the rest.

"Not that long. You?"

"Probably longer than you."

"I wouldn't doubt it." Methos practically grinned. *Just when you think things can't possibly get more interesting.* He saw the moment Mulder decided that this tactic wasn't getting him anywhere. The slight distancing, calculation of schemes to be put into action at a later point, that filled those deep-hazel eyes made him catch his breath. The sheer complexity of the man was exquisite.

Both men jumped and glanced down guiltily at the moan that emanated from the bed. Methos pushed himself from the chair and knelt by the waking man's side. He wove a hand through the blue-black hair and waited for Alex to come to full awareness or as much awareness as the residual amounts of the drug would allow. Eventually, eyes with just a hint of green rimming large black pupils stared up at him.

"Hello."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A couple of days. I've been keeping you pretty doped."

"I noticed. Thanks for staying."

"Yeah, well, it's quiet here; I could use the downtime. Being with you may be fun, but it takes it out of you eventually."

"Tell me about it." Alex's eyes tried to focus on the hand with which Methos was stroking his cheek. He gave up and blinked slowly. "We have any visitors?"

"No, I think we lost them."

"Man, I'm gonna have to send Mulder a year's subscription to 'Conspiracy' or something." Methos leaned down and nipped at the younger man's earlobe. Krycek sighed at what he interpreted as an invitation and started to relay a thought: "I hate to disappoint but..." His voice trailed off as he heard Methos's own float softly into the ear he had been ever-so-gently assaulting.

"Don't look now, but conspiracy boy is standing on your left."

Alex looked. "Well, so much for the surprise factor in that gift idea." Alex attempted a smirk with facial muscles that were still too relaxed to comply.

"I just renewed my subscription, don't bother." Mulder glared at the drugged assassin without any real heat.

"What are you doing here?" Alex wondered if he had missed something while in a stupor.

"Your boy-toy already asked; I hate repetitiveness." Mulder wondered what made him throw off the comment quite as viciously as he did.

Alex leaned closer into Methos, instinctively seeking support. Normally, he would have enjoyed this game. The verbal sparring between him and Mulder gave him a chance to interact with the other man without being seriously injured. Right now though, he was tired and recovering from being drugged while fighting a wound-induced fever. The sparring took almost as much energy to withstand as a beating would.

"My osmosis glands must not be working. I promise not to ask again if you tell me this once." Alex managed a patronizing tone.

"You sounded appreciative when you talked about me." The wonder in Mulder's voice was apparent. So was the fact that he was trying to rationalize it to himself.

"That's not an answer; I asked first."

"I wanted to make sure the house was still standing; it is my property."

Methos gave a quiet snort at what he saw as a rather juvenile comment.

"Of course I'm appreciative; you probably saved my life. I think we've both acknowledged my hard-core loyalty to the survival instinct."

Methos silently applauded Alex's effort to retain a certain level of maturity.

"I came to see if you were alright."

Alex would have fallen off the bed if Methos hadn't been holding him. He wanted to force a laugh, make himself brush the comment off. After all, Mulder was just being Mulder. Deep down, the man had a humane streak a mile long. Even for assassins with long-dead souls. That humanity was what had started to awaken the soul within Alex after so many years of assuming it a lost cause. Alex finally managed the chuckle he had wanted, but it came out sounding bitter.

"I'm fine. I can be out of here in a day; the tail end of the wooziness shouldn't last much longer."

"They haven't figured out you're here; you might as well stay."

Methos thought this was a good point on the agent's part, but wasn't going to admit it in Mulder's presence.

"I told you before, Mulder, I don't have anything for you. At this point, you probably have more on the inside track than I do."

"Maybe I don't believe you." Mulder practically snarled the words; this was familiar territory.

"You do." Alex said it so firmly that even had Mulder had doubts, they would have been wiped out in the face of the other man's certainty.

"Then maybe I don't want anything."

"At the risk of sounding trite, everyone wants something."

"Ah, trite but true." Both men's eyes flickered to Methos, who had maintained his silence up until now. "He does want something; you're right on that account."

"Oh, and I suppose you know what it is I want?" Mulder had been going for a tone of anger, but ended up with one of curiosity.

"Alex."

Mulder choked and tried to cover it up with a laugh.

"Uh huh. They tell me I come up with some bizarre explanations, but at least most of mine can't be disproved." He was close to spitting in indignation.

"And you can disprove my explanation to your X-file?"

"Let me count the ways. One: I'm straight. Two: he killed my father. Three: he helped to abduct my partner. Four: he was an accomplice in killing her sister. Five: he is an assassin for a group of men who commit treason as a form of daily exercise. So, to put it mildly, if I was going to start playing for the other team, I would find a much more compatible teammate." Mulder's fingers trembled as he ticked off his reasons, but both Methos and Alex had to admire the flatness of his voice.

"You're lonely; quests do that to men."

"Loneliness is not a good reason to fuck your enemy." Here Mulder's voice raised a little, self-righteousness mixing in with the fury.

"No, but it is one that has been validly used many times in the past and will continue to be. 'Should we not, perhaps, retrain ourselves to revel in the sexual act not as the consummation of predestined and regenerate desire, but rather as a two-part affirmation of our need for solace in extremis.'"

Mulder looked at Methos as if he was amazed to have finally met someone even more tangential than himself. Methos rubbed Alex's shoulder.

Mulder found his voice; only to blurt out a baffled, "What?"

"Not a Mamet fan." The statement of fact came from two synchronized voices.

"Think you can handle that?" Methos's lips curled in sardonic amusement.

"What are you doing?" Alex's voice was hoarse, desperate. Methos didn't answer, just continued the soothing motion of his hand over the bewildered man's shoulder.

"I do not have sex merely to satisfy a craving. Even if I did, I repeat, it would not be with him." Mulder sounded near to as desperate as Alex had been moments before.

"I thought you didn't like repetitiveness."

"Some points bear repeating."

"Especially when he who states them needs convincing of the fact himself."

"Who //are// you?" Mulder's voice went high with incredulity. "His pimp?"

"Yeah, Mulder, that's who he is. I'll tell you what though, I'll give it to you for free, and we'll call it square. A blowjob from a guy can be better than one from a girl if you just close your eyes and imagine a different body on its knees. A certain redhead, if that's what will do it for you." Alex had gone a shade of white paler than any ghost. Mulder was silent for a moment, his shock at the man's response overriding even his need to defend Scully.

"I didn't..."

"Whatever. It's not like I haven't done it for reasons considerably less than love. Greed, survival instinct, there are some great motivating factors for lending your body out to someone. It's just your body. 'We are the repositories of disease and physical disaster.' Why not someone else's sperm?"

"So he thinks I should fuck you to ward off loneliness, and you think I should fuck you as a way of payment. Am I getting this right?"

"You forgot the part about you wanting it." Mulder opened his mouth to say something but Alex continued on: "Which is only fair, because I haven't told you that I want it yet either."