Author: Alicia Thiele
Title: Late & Tired
Pairing: Other, M and K is here, but 'tis not M/K (sorry).
Rating: PG
Status: Complete

Summary: Mulder and Krycek discuss life in its private parts. Or such. Set between "Sleepless" and "Duane Barry".

Notes: I guess you could call this a silly short piece of weak satire. This is also my first fic-posting, so please do mail me and tell me if you think I should keep going or just drop this fic thing all together.


"Then what did you do?" Mulder asked, learning forward in his chair, sincerely curious - for once - about the continuation of the unbelievable story his partner was telling.

"What *could* I do?" Alex replied, looking in Mulder's way, shrugging, and typing away on his keyboard. "If they aren't interested, hey, they aren't interested. Doesn't matter you've had the most promising necking of your life. You know how it is."

"Yeah, but just ... leaving like that? Don't they have any decency anymore?" Mulder said, disgusted.

"Were they better in your days?" Alex asked, looking more in need for comfort than Mulder had ever seen. It was half past ten and most of the lights in the Hoover Building were off, and the blue light from the computer screen in front of Alex made him look pale and hurt.

"Nah," Mulder said, then thought for a while and added: "I once dated one."

Alex looked up from the screen, surprised. "You did?"

"Yeah. We went out for quite a long time, and we even had dinner with my parents. My mom told me it was no good. She could see it at once, like *that*." Mulder snapped his fingers. "I should have listened to her."

"What happened?"

"The big night. I had waited for almost a month; I knew I had to take it slow. I'm not the kind to push, and I can wait, if that's what it takes. I was pretty young, and really thought this was *the* relationship."

Alex nodded.

"Dinner, champagne, et cetera, we had talked about it, and we had agreed that the time was in. Then, five minutes after we had entered my bedroom, bang! No, I don't want to do it, I really like you but this feels too weird, maybe we should just be friends!"

Alex widened his eyes, mouth gaping. "I don't believe it!"

"Me neither. But I learned to deal with it." Mulder nodded solemnly. "You really have to be careful. And listen to your mom."

"Yeah," Alex agreed, frowning. "When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me never to fall for them. But sometimes you can't stop yourself, you know? I mean, I have my needs, and it gets kinda limited in the long run, and you get tempted, and think maybe *this* time..."

"I know *exactly* how you feel. They all seem so nice and friendly."

"Yeah! And willing! But I learned my lesson yesterday." Alex sniffed and returned to the keyboard.

Mulder learned back in his chair. "Where did you catch him, anyway?" he asked, trying to balance a pencil on his nose.

"He's the manager of the building I live in; he came to fix my toilet. Left because he had promised he would change the light-bulb for Mrs. Taylor. Hah! Like I'll buy that. It was two in the morning."

Mulder tsk-tsked. "The ones with brainless jobs are the worst."

"Yeah, I know. But he looked so damn fine fixing that toilet. I loved those pecs."

"They come in nice packages, but you can never trust them. They seem like they want you, but then..." Mulder shook his head.

Alex frowned miserably. "I hate men who can't admit of their lusts. Heterosexual my ass! He damn sure wanted me."

"I'm sure he did Alex, I'm so sure," Mulder said in a slow reassuring voice.

"I mean, it's not *me* there's something wrong with, is it?" Alex took his right hand to his heart. "Do I have some abnormality I'm not aware of? What do you think, Mulder? Frankly! Tell me if it's me."

Mulder learned forward again. "There's *nothing* wrong with you. You're young, cute, funny if you put your mind to it..." He suddenly frowned, as if remembering something. "You have a brain but you didn't show that, did you? They don't like that."

Alex stopped typing and blinked a couple of times, considering. "Well ... I did try to tell him that it was the water-lock that I needed fixed, and not the water-tank."

"That's it!" Mulder threw his pencil on the desk. It broke in halves. "You can't tell them what to *do*, Alex."

"But I needed it fixed!"

"You can't get your toilet fixed *and* get laid." Mulder shook his head once again. "You can just as well get used to it."

"Oh *man*, I hate men!"

Mulder sighed deeply. "We all do, Alex; we all do."

Alex continued as if he hadn't heard Mulder: "Why do we put up with this? All I want is someone who'll listen to what I say, fix what I want him to fix, and fuck me when I tell him to! It can't be *that* hard!"

"You should think so. Come on, let's finish up and grab a beer or something; this is getting depressing. Your place?"

"Okay." Alex turned off the computer and stood. "Maybe we can mess with the water-lock. You've got to see this guy; if we're lucky he'll forget his shirt again."

Mulder smirked, grabbing his jacket and turning the last lights off. "Yeah? Maybe I can dysfunction your shower-head."

"Hey, great idea!"

They left the dark building, chatting loudly.

(Whaddaya mean, maybe when we write slash we're writing about women? *Of course* are we writing about women! Hush.)