Title: Spring Rains
Author: Jennifer Allen
Date: August 5, 2001
Rating: strong PG-13 for violence
Archive: wherever, just leave my name and let me know about it
Beta: none, so all mistakes definitely mine
Spoilers: umm, not really, little one for the palm pilot ep
Summary: Krycek bearing gifts
Warnings: bit of not-too-graphic violence
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but if Fox and 1013 Productions want to give them to me for my birthday (Sept 4 :-) I won't say no!!
Feedback: will be cherished and answered at firstname.lastname@example.org
Notes: I woke up with this image in my head yesterday, and it wouldn't leave! This is my first posted fic, so please be kind and rewind :-)
by Jennifer Allen
"Sir? Kim said you wanted to see us?"
"Yes, please come in, Agents." I watch as Mulder and Scully make their way into my office. I motion them to the chairs I have set up in front of the television in my office. The unusual seating arrangement just seems to increase their general unease. I take a couple items from my desk drawer and join them at the third chair.
"A mutual friend sent me some things he thought we would be interested in." I hold up the first object to their gasps.
"Sir, is that really..."
"Evidently, yes. I've had the lab techs check it out, very carefully," Mulder grimaces at my small joke, "and it is the palm pilot that controls the nanocytes in my blood. It has since been disabled."
"That's... that's just wonderful, sir," Scully says, her face almost glowing with joy. I can't help but return her smile.
"Yes, it is, Scully." We sit in silent, mutual happiness for a minute before Mulder breaks the silence.
"You said this 'friend' sent you some things? What else did he send?"
"Always impatient, Mulder." I stand, place the palm pilot on my desk, and walk back to the television, slipping the innocuous video cassette into the vcr.
"I've fast-forwarded to the pertinent part," I tell them, watching with a small smile as Mulder consciously keeps silent. Questions, always questions, bursting forth from that man. Sometimes it is infuriating, sometimes endearing, but always there. I suddenly miss my own silent companion of choice. I shrug off the familiar longing and press play.
We sit in silence as the screen flickers to light, a black and white scene coming to life. "This is from a security camera, but the resolution is very high." Mulder and Scully nod aimlessly, studying the screen intently. The camera was mounted in a corner of a dark, large room, only a small portion of the room onscreen lit. Three figures appear on the screen, the man standing in the middle causing Mulder to gasp.
"Sir! That's...that's...But I thought he was dead?!"
"Yes, it's Spender. Just watch, Mulder." Mulder subsides, slouching back in his chair.
We watch silently as Spender and the two men with him stand around, waiting, Spender chain-smoking. Then they all stiffen slightly and look off-camera. They turn their backs to the camera and Spender steps forward slightly, evidently greeting someone. Someone who slowly walks into the light: tall, dark hair, dark jacket. Mulder and Scully's gasps are in stereo this time.
"Krycek!" Scully whispers.
We watch as Krycek and Spender speak, Krycek's arm waving as if in objection, one of Spender's men moving forward threateningly. Spender waves him off. His body language changes from imploring to threatening, then commanding. Krycek slowly nods his head, his shoulders slumping in apparent defeat. Mulder holds his breath as Krycek nods once more, then turns and slowly walks away, his head bowed. Skinner drops his cigarette and grinds it out with his shoe, while his men relax slightly.
"He made a deal with the devil," Mulder whispers. I hold up a hand to stop Mulder's comments and just gesture for him to watch the screen.
Just at the edge of the light, Krycek's head raises and he turns suddenly. A small flash of light is the only warning as the man on the right of Spender suddenly falls, his hands scrabbling at his throat. A dark spray suddenly erupts from the back of the head of the man on the left of Spender and he, too, falls. Spender looks down at the bodies bracketing him, and takes a small, distasteful step away from the growing pools of blood. He looks up at Krycek as Krycek slowly walks towards him.
"My God, he's ... he's smiling," Scully whispers, disgust and awe mixed equally in her tone. I nod. Krycek's small, bitter smile is easy to make out.
"I would be, too," Mulder grates out, earning one of Scully's horrified glances.
We turn our attention back to the screen, where Spender is obviously pleading for his life. He gestures wildly, enunciating his point and I can almost hear him. 'Anything, Alex, anything. You want out, you're out. You want Mulder, he's yours. Anything.'
Krycek's head is cocked to one side, watching Spender, a bemused smile on his face. He shakes his head once, his smile growing, lifts the gun and shoots twice. Spender jerks and falls, his arms outstretched, his hands landing in the pools of blood from the other men. Krycek takes three steps forward and shoots him twice in the head. He holsters his gun, crouches down beside the body of Mulder's most hated enemy and quickly searches Spender's clothing. Krycek pauses when he reaches the inside pocket of Spender's suit and pulls out a palm pilot. Krycek's broad smile is evident again. He pockets the palm pilot and slowly stands up. He backs up a few steps and withdraws a small bottle from a pocket. He flips the small lid and starts spraying a thin stream of liquid onto the bodies, but especially onto Spender's. Krycek empties the bottle and tosses it onto Spender's chest.
I smile. I know what is coming next.
Krycek's hand returns to his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He takes one out, returns the pack to his pocket, and lights it. We watch in silence, barely breathing, as Krycek calmly smokes his cigarette. He smokes it down to the butt, his head cocked in silent thought as he considers the bodies before him. Finally he takes his last drag, holds it, blows the smoke out, then waves at the camera, a grim smile on his face. Mulder and Scully gasp. Krycek takes two steps backwards, then flicks the still smouldering butt onto Spender. Flames immediately shoot up as the lighter fluid combusts. With one last intent look at the camera, Krycek steps back into the shadows and is gone.
I push stop, turn off the television and sit with them until Mulder breaks the silence.
"When? Where...?" He trails off and takes a breath to collect his thoughts. "Do we know if this really happened?"
I smile at that. Mulder, the gullible sceptic. "Last night, a warehouse in Vermont was burned to the ground. It was thought to be a secret laboratory of sorts. Six bodies were discovered. One of them has been positively identified as the previously-presumed dead CGB Spender. The other five bodies have not been identified."
"Was it really your palm pilot Krycek found?" Scully asks, still pale from the tape.
"Blood was found on it. Samples have been taken to determine whether or not it matches the DNA from the body assumed to be Spender's. My gut tells me that it will be the same Krycek took from Spender."
I stand and watch as Mulder and Scully automatically stand as well.
"You can take the rest of the day off, if you want. I'll pass on any information I hear from the investigators and the labs."
Mulder and Scully nod, still shell-shocked. That makes it remarkably easy to usher them from my office. I sigh a little when the door is shut after them. I, too, received a number of shocks today. I go to the vcr and eject the tape from the player, holding it in my hand. Such power in such an innocent-looking container. And it was given to me willingly. By the man who opens my office's second door and makes his silent way to my side.
I look into green eyes no longer glazed with shock. He appeared at my doorstep early, early this morning, smelling of spring rain, smoke and blood. He babbled a little, about death and rebirth, until I calmed him and coaxed him into a shower and then bed. He told me what had happened and what he had brought me and that he loved me. When I told him the same, he cried a little, then slept and slept. My alarm woke us both and we made our careful way to my office. Then I sent for Mulder and Scully.
Alex steps easily into my arms, still slightly shaken from the things he saw and did last night. No matter what Mulder thinks, killing does not come easily to my rat, no matter how badly he wants his victims dead. And he had long wanted to do what he did last night.
I murmur his name into his ear and a small shiver runs up his spine as he holds me tighter. Spender was a greater threat to Alex than he was to Mulder or me, even. And now that threat is gone and we can get on with our lives. I know that we have a long battle ahead of us, but with him in my arms, I feel like I've already won the war.
Archived: August 25, 2001