Serious: Part Two by Tara Thorne

Title: Serious: Part 2
Author: Tara Thorne
E-Mail: as346@chebucto.ns.ca Disclaimer: the usual-evil Fox, CC, 1013, etc. all own Mulder, Scully and the fabulous one armed hottie.
Rating: another PG, I would suspect. Still no MSR, sex or bad language. Very angst ridden from all angles.
Summary: Unanswered questions. In typical Mulder fashion he reacts violently.
Spoilers: Terma
Thanks to the half dozen people who gave me positive responses. I'm hoping the rest of ya just haven't gotten around to it yet. :-)

Mulder finished the sentence quickly, his mind racing rapidly. Trying desperately to stay calm, he surveyed the situation.

Okay. Scully, his partner, FBI Agent Scully, was sitting hand in hand on her own couch apparently of her own free will with Alex Krycek. Krycek, one of Mulder's arch-enemies. Krycek, the man responsible for the whole Russian experience. The chicken wire. The oil in his eyes.

Wait. Something didn't look right. Mulder shifted his incredulous gaze. Scully. On the couch. Her own free will. Hand in hand with-

Mulder's eyes went very wide as he realized Scully was *not* hand in hand with Krycek. More like hand in plastic.

Malice and anger quickly took over. Now oblivious to the terrific fact that Krycek was disabled, and the other fact that Scully was obviously brain damaged, not to mention in the line of fire, he acted. Enraged, he lofted the entire box of Chinese takeout at Krycek. It was a paltry weapon, useless and harmless, but it would do until Mulder would kill him.

Scully instinctively dropped and rolled onto the floor, her head knocking a leg of the table she had forgotten was close. With a small yelp of pain, she crawled stupidly under the table to the other side of the room, and watched helplessly, dreading the possible events.

Krycek had not moved. He still sat in the same spot, his prosthetic arm the only thing on his body that had changed position. It lay off to the side of his body where Scully had flung it in her haste to get out of Mulder's path.

There was rice everywhere. On the floor, on the table, on the furniture, and on Krycek, who remained still, his eyes locked on Mulder's.

Mulder, meanwhile, had refrained from his usual rush 'n' pound methods when it came to Krycek. Still in a daze, ignoring his hysterical partner in the corner, he turned to face the traitor head on.

At this point Krycek smartly stood up, arms at his sides, bearing no challenge. His face was contorted into a bevy of emotions, and he cast a brief, worried glance in Scully's direction.

Krycek turned back to face the enraged Agent. He still silently pleaded peace, but his eyes had grown darker at the command.

Scully, meanwhile, was seeing none of this. She sat against the wall, head in her hands. Her breath came rhythmically, shortly, in time with the throbbing of her skull. She sobbed quietly, unsure of how to deal with this situation. She shook violently as she braced herself for the inevitable explosion.

Mulder was stalking towards Krycek slowly, his steps heavy and loud. Scully cringed at every thump.

Krycek remained steady, his gaze unchanging. Flippantly and arrogantly he deliberately turned his head sharply and stared again at the dejected woman in the corner. He wanted to scream in frustration as he watched her attempt to convince herself that this wasn't happening.

Just then, Krycek felt Mulder grab his hair and jerk his head around. The look Krycek returned was no longer unchallenging. It was one of defiance, anger, and a hatred that rivaled the man's before him.

They stood eye-to-eye for a moment, each waiting for the other to make a move, any move. Mulder's eye flickered down for a moment and a malicious grin split his features. The tightness in Krycek's jaw slackened momentarily as remembered his handicap, and returned just as quickly when he saw the evil look on Mulder's face. He thought he might punch him, but decided against that. He would play defense, but only for Scully's sake.

Mulder's eyes gleamed, and he was so close Krycek could smell the honey chicken on his breath.

"Whaddya say we get you a matching one?" Mulder sneered, flicking Krycek's still-functioning arm.

He didn't even take the time to pull his arm back. One quick jab and Krycek stood before him bleeding profusely from the nose. Knowing the one armed man wouldn't fight back, Mulder taunted him by pushing on Krycek's shoulder. Little, irritating pokes that intended to set him off.

It was the fake arm Mulder was hitting, therefore having little effect. Realizing this, he finally reared back and sent Krycek flying backwards onto the table with a strong right hook.

Scully pushed herself onto her knees, torn by her very public loyalty to Mulder and her very private, unknown loyalty to the man sprawled upon her floor. The man known as traitor, as Ratboy. She knew she didn't love him, but something made her want to shelter him from her partner's growing rage.

Mulder, satisfied as to the events up to that point, turned his fury on his partner, who remained frozen in the middle of the floor, her eyes darting spasmadically between the two men.

It was minute, her action. A small move, a tiny shift of her weight, nothing more. But it was within that gesture that Mulder saw to which man his partner had intended to turn.

Startled, his exclamation caused her to involuntarily leap to her feet. Krycek, with difficulty, slowly pulled himself onto the couch, ignoring the rice on the cushions and the blood on his face. It was his turn to watch.

He knew then that it was over. He didn't love her, surely, but just the same didn't want to let her go. The terrified glance she threw in his direction all but slapped him in the face with the reality that he would lose this battle of emotions.

He felt his heart wrench from his chest as he watched Dana turn her tearful, pleading face to Fox Mulder.