Title: Nothing to Start From
Author: Loren Q,  Email Me
Website: http://slashfactory.com/
Fandom: X-Files
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek
Rating: NC-17 for male/male sex.
Status: New, complete.
Archive: Yes to: Basement, RatB, WalterTorture and CkoS. All others please ask.
Spoilers: Episodes through 'SR819.'
Summary: Sometime between 'SR819' and 'One Father, Two Sons', Krycek welcomes Skinner to the wonderful world of high technology.
Beta Thanks: Louise Wu, Zoe T, Ness, Lyrical Soul and Alex.
      I disregarded a lot of good beta advice, so don't blame them--it's all me.
Disclaimer: Chris Carter and 1013 Productions own the X-Files series characters. The rest are mine. No infringement of rights is intended.

Monday Morning
Skinner's Office
FBI Headquarters
Washington, D.C.

"Good morning, Kim," I say as I make my way past my assistant's desk.

Her "Oh, sir?" causes me to stop and turn. "This was just messengered to you." She holds out an envelope.

I take it with a nod and head to my office, closing the door behind me.

The envelope has no postmark or return address. The words 'Attention: Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner, Personal and Confidential' are neatly hand printed.

I pause before opening the envelope; I've seen that printing before. A sense of unease comes over me as I recall whose writing it is.

That rat-bastard said he would be back. He knows he's got me under his thumb, with that damned black pad that will kill me. Or worse, his threat to use that same fucking technology to infect Mulder or Scully. // He said 'Mulder and/or Scully' like they were objects. Maybe they are to him . //

Resigned to my fate, I open the envelope, pulling out a sheet of paper with the same neat block printing.
    "Be at your home tonight by 8:00 P.M.
    You will receive further instructions then."

I close my eyes, barely noticing that I've crumpled the sheet into a small, neat ball.


8:00 P.M.
Skinner's Apartment
Crystal City, Virginia

I'm still picking at my dinner when there's a knock at the door.

Out of habit, I peer through the peephole. Alex Krycek looks back expressionlessly. I open the door and stand back to let him in. My fists ache with the desire to pound into him--like the last time he was here. 'We're not even yet,' I said to him. And now... we'll never be, not while he's got that technology, not while I'm under his control. I feel myself bristle at that thought.

A few steps in, he pauses, looking around. "The place looks different... when you're not in handcuffs."

I close my eyes, willing myself to not hit him.

"There's a failsafe in place, by the way. If I don't send a signal at a specific time, you die." He turns slowly to face me. "Or maybe Mulder gets infected, or was it Scully? Something like that." A wry smile crosses his face, then crumbles into... I don't know what. // Sad, he looks sad. //

"Enough with the small talk, Krycek. What do you want?"

"That's too broad a question. I'm here with your assignment." He walks into the living room and sits down. I follow and sit across from him, glaring.

He begins speaking quietly. "Time's short. I won't bore you with the details of the Syndicate's plans, except to tell you the timeframe for colonization has been moved up. I think you have an idea of what's happening there." He looks at me questioningly.

I nod in response. I don't know everything, but I know it's bad.

"What you may not be aware of is that there's another alien force at play, the Resistance. I don't know why, but the Resistance wants to make sure the colonization fails. I don't have all the details yet, but--"

"So someone else bought you out?"

He closes his eyes and slowly shakes his head. "Yeah, they bought me out. My price is my life and the lives of about six billion other human beings."

I smirk at him. "Cut the altruistic bullshit. You don't give a rat's ass about anyone but yourself."

His eyes fly open with a flash of anger // or pain? // "I don't give a damn about what you believe, Skinner, but you're as compromised as I am. I'm just more open about it."

That statement hits me like a punch to the gut. "Just tell me what you want and go."

He sits back, again closing his eyes. "I'm tired and hungry. I've been on the move for over twenty-four hours. I know you have no reason to believe me. No reason to want to see that what I do isn't much different from what Mulder or Scully do." Suddenly his eyes fly open, startled. "Damn, I must be tired," he says, shaking his head.

Leaning forward, he starts speaking softly. "Your assignment is twofold. Within the next two days, the Syndicate hierarchy will make sure certain documents fall into your hands. You need to rubberstamp your approval and move them along."

"Hold on here. You just said you're with the Resistance."

"Oh, I am. And one of the many things I am to them is their inside man to the Syndicate. I told you this was twofold."

Charging at him, I grab his jacket and haul him up until we're face to face. "Who controls the pad? Who controls the nano-technology?"

A cool but guarded look crosses his face. "Is it important to know who flips the switch? If the good guys flip it, or the bad guys, you'll still be dead."

I release him, shoving my hands in my pockets so I'm not tempted to strike him.

"The second part of your assignment is this." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out an overstuffed envelope. "You need to get this information to Mulder and Scully. We, the Resistance, need them back in the loop, back on the X-Files."

"I have orders forbid--"

"A.D. Kersh is in the Syndicate's pocket, so is Fowley. They're working on Spender, and by all accounts, he'll be in soon. You may need to discredit Fowley and Spender to move Mulder and Scully back."

"And just how am I supposed to do that? I had no choice over Fow--"

"Of course you had no choice. That was a Syndicate-planned succession. But I have information on Fowley and Spender that, at the very least, can get them suspended. As for Kersh, I've got something that will make him opt for early retirement."

"I won't resort to blackmail. That's your area, not mine."

His eyes narrow and a look of disbelief crosses his face. "I don't give a flying fuck how you do it. I'm offering information you can leverage. If you don't want it, fine. But you get Mulder and Scully back in, by whatever means."

Sitting back down, he pulls out the black pad. I wince as he uses the stylus, waiting for the pain to start.

"I've sent the signal that will keep you alive... for a while."

"And if I don't do what you say, you'll kill me?"

He smiles patiently, like a parent with a wayward child. I ball up my hands, wanting like hell to beat that look off his face. "Actually, this..." He holds up the pad, then puts it away. "... can do more than just cause vascular failure. There are any number of things that could happen."

Standing up, he moves until we're toe to toe. "Your conscience is yours to deal with, but I own your ass."

I lunge at him, both of us landing against the couch, causing it to tip over. We grapple on the carpet. He slams his prosthetic arm into my head. He wields it like a club, but it's clumsy, a disadvantage to him. He's stronger than he looks, even with one arm, but I can take him. I turn us and jam the plastic hand under the sofa.

Finally, I end up on top, laying all my weight on him. One forearm is on his throat, the other pinning down his right arm. "Give me one good reason not to kill you."

His eyes blaze as he struggles beneath me. "If you don't care about your own life, remember, as easily as you were infected... others can be."

Suddenly he relaxes, his face shifting from a grimace to a smile. He pumps his hips against me, making me suddenly aware of my own growing erection. // What the hell? //

"As I said, the pad can do more than cause vascular failure."


I watch Skinner as he digests what I've said, while I continue the slow pumping that's keeping both of us hard.

He looks away, eyes closed. I see the muscles in his jaw clench. I can't imagine what's going on inside his head. But I do know what his body's telling him. Telling me.

I knew this would be my chance to finally have Walter Skinner. What I didn't know was what I'd have to do to accomplish the seduction. I wasn't sure what would work on him. The sad, misunderstood antihero didn't fly, but violence, force...

He finally rolls off me, breaking contact. I stand up, as he lies there, staring upward at the ceiling.

"Skinner, I've given you your assignment, and maybe more than you bargained for."

He looks at me, conflicted. A battle between rage and resignation taking place in his eyes, his face. Resignation wins.

Nodding at him, I say, "I'll check with you in two days. I don't expect that Mulder and Scully will be in place, but I do expect you to have given them the information."


I don't move as Krycek steps away from me. I hear the door close. Behind him, I hope.

Slowly standing up, I look around. He is gone.

I make my way back to the dining room. To my now cold dinner. I didn't have much appetite before he showed and none now. I sit at the table, my head in my hands.

Shit! I don't understand what just happened. The assignment, yeah, but the... the... shit. It's that damned pad, those fucking nanos.

My mind goes back to high school. Wrestling... the brute force of bodies slamming together always got me half-hard. I had forgotten about that.

Continuing down memory lane, I remember the first time I met Krycek. The FBI gym, he asked me to spot him on the bench press. I stood over him, watching his face, how his muscles bunched in effort. Did I find myself attracted?

For years I've known that some level of physical exertion // violence // is a turn on. But I thought I managed it pretty well. // Until now. //

And as long as he's got that damned pad to control me, it's hopeless.

I shake my head, trying to clear my mind of these thoughts before I have to admit... No. Stop now.


Wednesday Night
Skinner's Apartment
Crystal City, Virginia

I let Krycek in and he makes his way to the living room. "Make yourself at home," I snarl.

He turns to me, face impassive. "Same failsafe, Skinner. I've had word that the Syndicate documents are being routed without a hitch. Good work."

I stare at him silently. He matches my gaze, his eyes like backlit emeralds. I will not let him get to me.

"And based on some outside sources, I know you got the other data to Mulder."

"If you know all this, why are you here?"

His brows knit together in contemplation. He starts rubbing his lip with his thumb. "I want to know what you're doing to get Mulder and Scully back."

I look away from him. I tried to call in some favors, but whoever wants Mulder and Scully out has more pull than I do. Moments pass in silence.

"Well, Skinner, if nothing pans out soon, you will have to use my information."

"I'll make it happen. My way."

He holds up his hand. "Hey, I'm just telling you what will happen."

"Okay, you've told me. Now get the hell out."

Stepping closer to me, he puts his hand gently on my chest. This is so unexpected I don't move. "I'm not ready to leave. You have something I want and, based on our last... interaction, it's reciprocal."

Oh no, he's not going to pull that one. "You're out of your fucking mind. You did that to me. You and that fucking pad. You controlled my body."

He steps back. "No, it's not that simple. I wish it was. The nanos simply expedite what's already started."

That statement hits me hard. "What the hell do you mean?"

"Well, in the case of a vascular crisis, there's got to be existing damage to the vascular system. The nanos speed and intensify further damage."

"There was nothing wrong with me, you lying sack of shit."

"Really? You didn't have to watch your cholesterol? You don't suffer from the effects of aging?"

He moves toward me, our chests almost touching. "Tell me, Skinner. Tell me that on some level, you weren't at all excited."

We're so close I feel his warm breath as he speaks. "Tell me the nanos had nothing to start from."

I look away. I want to slam into him, beat him to within an inch...

"Tell me it's not happening again." He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. His lips and teeth work on my throat as he grinds his hips against me.

What he's doing feels so good. Damn, it's been so long since... NO! I push him away, hard enough to make him step back, but not hard enough to make him fall.

A knowing smile crosses his face. "I don't want to force you, exactly. But..." his eyes move down to my crotch, "it looks like I won't have to."

I close my eyes, willing my erection down. "Get the hell out of here." I tell him, my jaw clenched.

My eyes fly open when I feel his hand squeeze my cock through my pants. I stare hatefully into his eyes. I will not move. I will not respond. I use every ounce of discipline I have to not react... but my cock is under his control.

"No, I don't think you want me to leave."

"Don't tell me what I want," I spit out.

"I don't have to," he replies. With one last squeeze to my hard-on, he steps away from me. Tilting his head to one side, "I'll be back tomorrow night," he says, a lilt in his voice.

Thursday Afternoon
Skinner's Office
FBI Headquarters
Washington, D.C.

"Sir? A.D. Skinner, sir?"

I blink a few times. "I'm sorry, Agent Gelf. I, uh..." I shake my head. "Continue please."

Gelf drones on. I try to keep my focus on his report, and succeed to some degree. "Thank you, Agent. I'll, uhh... I'll go over the details and sign off on this by end of day."

"Thank you, sir." Gelf hands me his report, then leaves.

I try to concentrate on my work, but my mind keeps going back to the events of last night. His hand on my cock, his lips on my neck. My body reacting to his touch. My self-discipline wavering.

My body... no longer mine to control. // 'Tell me the nanos had nothing to start from.' // My shame at finally beating off, hoping it would rid me of not only the erection, but the images that kept running through my brain.

Those images, the fantasy I created while beating off... violent and brutal. Throwing Krycek down, feeling his struggles as I rip his pants down and slam my cock up his ass. Deep thrusts tearing him, strokes slick with his blood.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hating him for showing me how he owns me. Hating myself for being hard again.

7:30 P.M.
Skinner's Apartment
Crystal City, Virginia

Skinner opens the door to let me in, his usual scowl in place. He must have just gotten home himself. He's still in his work clothes, sans tie.

I make my way to the sliding glass door that leads to his balcony. Looking out, remembering the bitter cold. Remembering how it felt to hang from that railing, heart thumping, arm straining.

The colonization's moving at breakneck speed. I don't have much time to get what I want. I'll have to play this fast and loose.

I see his reflection in the glass, tense, waiting. "I have your next assignment."


Krycek keeps his back to me, occasionally shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he starts speaking softly.

"Krycek," I say interrupting him. "I can't hear you."

He looks at me over his shoulder. "So move closer."

Asshole. But I move until I'm within arm's reach of him. He turns his face back to the glass. "Very soon things will begin happening. And when they do, they'll happen rapidly. Some of the activities will, most likely, ensure Mulder and Scully's return to the X-Files. You're to cease all efforts in that area. We can't afford the visibility."

Moments pass, then he continues, "You're going to have to manufacture some reason to be unavailable tomorrow."


"Yes, unavailable and if possible, unreachable. You also need to make sure you do not delegate signing approval. The Syndicate is passing more crap your way. If you're not there to approve, it'll just sit."

"What'll stop them from using Kersh? Since he's with them."

His head nods slightly. "They might, once they know you're not there. But even the Syndicate works within FBI bureaucracy. It'll take at least one day to get anything to Kersh. That's all that's needed."

Finally, Krycek turns to me, a cool smile on his face. "That's it for the assignment."

"So, you're leaving? I hope."

He takes a step forward, tilts his head and leans in toward me. His lips fluttering against my throat. "Do you now?"

I stand stock still, feeling him kiss and nip at my throat. He pauses, lips barely touching my skin and says, "I've sent the failsafe... and maybe another command."

The soft caresses get rougher as he pulls me toward him. Krycek's mouth moves to the side of my neck, biting, sucking. I give an involuntary shudder of arousal and hear him growl when he feels it.

He begins grinding into me. As much as I want to push away, to fight what's happening, I start grinding back. Any resistance I have left is lost in the sensation of him against me.

The rubbing and pressure stimulate my already half-hard cock. I put my hands on his shoulders and squeeze hard enough to bruise. Knowing that I'm hurting him makes me fully erect. I extend my arms, pushing him away. Krycek's eyes are heavy lidded, his lips parted and curved in a slight smile.

"Too much or not enough?" he asks.

I respond by pulling him back to me and invading his mouth with a bruising kiss. His hand moves down, unbuckling my belt and opening my fly. I gasp as he encircles my cock and starts pumping me. He uses that moment to thrust his tongue into my mouth.

As suddenly as I pulled him to me, he pulls away, nodding at the sliding glass doors. "Want to give your neighbors a show?"

I shake the lust fog from my head, just long enough for us to move away from the glass. Krycek pushes me down on the couch so I'm sitting but slumped. Then he straddles me. His lips mash against mine, his tongue assaulting my mouth. He moves his hips, his denim-covered ass rubbing against me. I give a low moan at the pleasure of it all.

He pulls away from me, takes off his jacket and starts stripping from the waist down.

I kick off my shoes and pull off my pants when he returns to me. I sit up straighter, my erection pointing up. Face to face, he straddles me, but this time I feel his hot ass on my thighs, his hard cock bumping against mine.

Krycek reaches forward and rips my shirt off, buttons popping. Rising on his knees, he arches over me // like a cat // to bite and suck along my collarbone and pecs. He repositions himself to take my right nipple in his mouth and uses his fingers to pinch and tug my left nipple.

While his hips are raised, I slide under him so when he sits my cock will be up between his ass cheeks. Where I want it.

Krycek's lips and teeth make their way up my shoulders and neck, biting harder, sucking harder. He sits back down, then starts rocking his hips. The hot skin of his ass rests against me and I hear myself growl. I push his hips down further, feeling his weight painfully pleasant on my cock. My fingers dig into him // more bruises // as he rocks against me. Leaning over me, he attacks my mouth with a hard, brutal kiss. Our tongues intertwining, tasting blood, but not knowing whose.

He breaks the kiss by throwing his head back and taking a deep breath.

When he looks at me again, his eyes are hot, feral. He looks like I feel. Like we're two animals ready to rut. All sensation. No thought.

He twists out of my grip, leaving me while he walks to his clothes and pulls something out of his jacket pocket. After making his way back to me, he pushes my legs apart and kneels between them.

"Move down," Krycek says, his voice gravelly.

I move my ass closer to the edge of the couch. I feel his hand on my cock, hot, demanding, pumping my shaft, squeezing on the upstroke. He leans forward to lick the pearl of pre-cum from the tip. The heat from his tongue makes me jump. His tongue swirls around my cock head, down the underside then up again. He repeats this until I think I'm going crazy. Suddenly, he takes me completely.

I gasp. It's so rare that someone deep throats me. He pulls back, sucking, then swallows me whole again. Getting blown has never felt this good. My body jumps and shudders at his skill.

I feel his finger, cold and wet, circle my anus. The sensation is incredible, electric. I feel pressure then a little pain as he pushes his finger up my ass.

My eyes fly open. "Wha--" I'm stopped mid-word by his sucking. He's at the head of my cock, sucking, nipping at the corona. More prodding, a stab of pain, then a second finger enters me as he sucks me all the way down again.

God, I've never felt this. His fingers pumping into my ass at the same rhythm he sucks me. My hips move to their tempo. His mouth, his fingers, I'm so close...

He pulls his mouth off my cock and I yell, "Fuck... Why are you stop--" I can't finish my sentence. Krycek curves his fingers to massage my prostate and I damn near fly off the couch. I buck my hips and he matches each thrust. I feel him scissor his fingers in me, stretching me. He pulls his fingers out of me and before I can protest, I feel his cock push into me, hard, hot, slick. My eyes widen and I grunt as he pushes past my sphincter.

I've never felt a man's cock up my ass. I never thought I'd like it. But Krycek is playing me like an instrument. He angles his body so each thrust glides across my prostate. The feeling is unbelievable. Each stroke takes me deeper into a sexual frenzy. He starts slamming into me harder. I spread my legs wider to give him room.

"Skinner, stroke yourself." His voice, low and guttural.

My hand wraps around my cock, still slick with his spit. Krycek's fucking is deep now, hard and fast. My strokes match his. Grunts, groans, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. All too soon, I roar out my orgasm.


Skinner's bellow sends me over the top. I thrust one last time and shoot into him. His ass milks my cock as I ride out my orgasm.

Waiting for my breathing to return to normal, I slip out of him and sit back on my heels.

I watch Skinner as he comes out of his post-orgasmic haze. His face changes from sated, to confused, to annoyed... and, finally, angry.

His eyes darken, almost obsidian. I watch as his jaws clench and he squeezes his hands into fists. I take that as my cue to stand up and get dressed. He doesn't move.

Pulling on my jacket, I start speaking. "Other than your absence tomorrow, you won't receive any other assignments... for a while."

I turn around and leave.


I glare at Krycek's departing back, until the sound of the door closing snaps me out of immobility.

Leaping up, I start pacing. "Damn! Shit! Fuck!" I repeat over and over. I grab my pants and head up to the bathroom, slamming my fist into the wall on the way.

Standing under the hot spray of the shower, I try to reconcile what just happened. The fucking nanos... fuck.

I lather up, wincing as I wash my inner thighs and ass. My thoughts return to him... pounding into me. NO! Dammit, I will not allow this. I will my mind blank.

But I'm not successful. He said the nanos needed something to start from. They must have tapped into my long buried desire for violence and rough play. I won't deny that was the hottest sex I've ever had, but I hope he burns in hell for this. And I hope I'm the one to put him there.

Shit. What if he wants more? How do I stop this from happening again? A silent vow to myself... I will let him kill me before I let him fuck me again.

Toweling off, I feel tender spots on my neck and chest. I wipe the mirror and see suck marks, bite marks and scratches. I touch each gently, allowing this to be the last moment that I will think of this... with pleasure.


Monday Morning
Skinner's Office
FBI Headquarters
Washington, D.C.

"Good morning, sir. How are you feeling?" Kim greets me with a look of concern.

"I'm fine now. You know how it is with food poisoning, out for a day or two, then you're fine."

"Oh, that's good. With all the news about e-coli, I was worried. You do look a little pale though."

I give her a curt nod as I make my way into my office.

Sitting in the middle of my desk is a manila envelope. No postmark or return address, just Krycek's neat block printing.

I look at it as if it's something poisonous or foul. // It is. //

I force myself to open the envelope and remove the single sheet.

"Do not approve the Syndicate documents for one more day. Events
are underway that will effectively derail the colonization.

There will be changes in Kersh's organization and the X-Files.

Your service is still of value to those who hold the nano-technology.
You will receive assignments from time to time, although there aren't
any planned for the next few weeks.

One final note: While it is true that the nano-technology expedites an
existing condition, yours are programmed only for vascular crisis."

3 October 2000

I had a really, really hard time writing this story. Please, send feedback so I know it was worth the effort.

Loren Q,  Email Me

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