Title: Wishin' Don't Make It So
By: Satina
Date: June 26, 2002 Written for the Nick Lea Birthday Challenge on Alex K-HCorD
Pairing: M/K
Rating: R for raunchy language and other hot stuff
Status: Done.
Archive: Is it posted to your list? Yeah? Then it's yours. No? Just ask.
Feedback: Pretty, pretty please? Send it here.
Spoilers: Piper Maru and Apocrypha, just barely. Oh, and if you can figure out where the 'research' was done, you get a naked Krycek wrapped in a big, red velvet bow.
Thank you, Marcia Elena, for the kickass cover!
Disclaimers: If I give up the chance at money, fame, power, and women, can I have them?
Summary: Krycek finds a leprechaun who gives him one wish. Guess what it is.
Notes: Thank you, David, for the insane idea and the help in executing it. How the hell do these things happen? I don't know, but I do know this one would not exist without your loving support and encouragement. I love you.
Krycek cocked his weapon, taking aim at the small man's head.
The two-foot high elderly man dropped the half-empty bottle of Stoli and raised his hands with a belch. "Damn!"
Krycek backed away from the safe, blinking furiously. "Get out here," he barked, righting the fallen fifth bottle before it could spill all over his valuables.
The man stumbled his way over the boxes and bags and stacks of foreign currency, stepping onto a pile of CD-ROMs and sliding out onto the floor, landing on his back, feet in the air.
"Get up," Krycek ordered, backing away from the scattered CD's, gesturing with his Baretta.
"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'," whined the little man, scrambling to sit up, dislodging more of the slippery CD's and sliding to a stop on his stomach a few feet in front of where Krycek crouched, glowering.
"This shit only happens to me," Krycek murmured, then amended with a smirk, "Me and Mulder, anyway." He sighed and narrowed his eyes at the extremely small person in front of him. "Okay, I'll bite. What the fuck are you?"
The man drew himself up onto his hands and knees carefully, weaving slightly as he pulled himself into a standing position and picked up his green derby where it had rolled a few inches away. "I'm a leprechaun, stupid. What the fuck are you?"
Krycek's eyes went wide. "A *what*?"
"A lep-re-chaun," repeated the man snidely, sniffing as he swayed, staggering a little to stay on his feet. "This is Ireland, ya know," he added, straightening his red vest haughtily.
Krycek just stared. And stared some more. Then when the small man was so dizzy from trying to keep eye contact that he was about to fall over, Krycek nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay, so I come to Ireland to get away for awhile...recuperate after being stuck in a goddamned silo for three days, and I find..." He firmed his lips, blinking rapidly, then ground out, "...a goddamned leprechaun stealing my Stoli. Right. Get mind-raped by an alien, puke oil, have a near-death experience eight stories underground and then meet the King of the Fairies. Alex Krycek, this is your life."
"Well, if we're done here, I've got some shoes to be cobblin'," said the leprechaun, staggering sideways in what he probably thought was a sly manner. Krycek reached out with a leather-covered hand and grabbed the small arm in an iron grip.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"I told you," the man said, struggling ineffectively in the giant man's steel grasp. "I've gotta make shoes! Let me go!"
"Shoes."
"Well...yeah, shoes," said the creature uncertainly, blinking his red-rimmed eyes.
"Why should I let you go?" asked Krycek, readjusting his grip on the gun. "You were stealing from me. I should blow your head off."
The little man went white and began struggling frantically. "No, no, please! I didn't take anything! Well, nothing but the vodka! Why would I? I'm rich!" His eyes lit up and a manic smile worked its way across his face. "Hey! You need some cash flow, buddy? I can hook ya up!"
Krycek just chewed his lip, frowning. "I have plenty of money, thanks."
The creature's smile faded and he darted his eyes around, obviously trying to think of something else to offer in exchange for his freedom. "Well, what *do* you want, then? Power? Fame?" His smile was back with a definite leering edge. "Women?" He waggled his little white eyebrows lasciviously.
"Got power," said Krycek with a bored shrug. "And fame is the *last* thing I need. As for women...I pretty much got my pick of those, too. I think it'd be easier to just kill you."
"No!" the leprechaun screeched. "Just tell me! There must be something...something you want but you can't get for yourself! Even the most rich and powerful man has unfulfilled desires!"
Krycek considered the small man, pinning him with a squinting glare. "You're saying you can get me anything I want?"
"Anything!" the creature yelled. "Anything! You name your price, bud, and it's so yours!"
Krycek tilted his head and licked his lips. "All right then," he said, giving the little man's arm a jerk and wringing forth a little angry grunt of pain. "I want Fox Mulder."
"What the hell's a Fox Mulder?" asked the man, bushy brows furrowed.
"A person. A man. An agent of the FBI."
"Soooo you want me to knock him off?" asked the leprechaun, frowning.
Krycek snorted. "I could have done that much myself over a dozen times, shithead," he said. "No. I want..." He squinted his eyes, daring the leprechaun to be anything but terrified. The creature trembled and whimpered as the hand around his arm tightened again. "I want him to..." He pressed his lips together firmly, scowling.
"You wanna fuck him!" the leprechaun called out gleefully. "Well damn, friend! Why didn't ya just say so?"
Krycek gaped.
"Okay," said the fairy, getting down to business. "Hey, I got no problem with that. So you prefer to indulge in 'the love that dare not speak its name'. What do I care? I swing both ways myself on occasion! It's not always easy to find a little femme fairy ass." He leaned in conspiratorially. "I mean, you don't really hear a lot about lady leprechauns, ya know? Man's gotta be flexible."
Krycek wrinkled up his nose, trying desperately to shake off the horrible images running through his head. "Yeah. Great. So how do I get him?" He relaxed his grip on the creature just slightly.
"Ah, yeah, that, well..." said the leprechaun, eyes darting around once again as if he could find the answer hanging on the wall. "I'm gonna need a little time to come up with a plan. I don't 'zactly do my best work with a gut full of liquor, you know?"
Krycek sighed heavily, reluctantly realizing that the little shit was indeed soused and could probably no more make Fox Mulder fall in love, or even lust, with Krycek right now than he could walk a straight line.
"And I'm gonna need to do some research," the leprechaun continued. "You got an internet connection around here?"
Krycek stared at the creature, blinking. "An internet connection?"
"Well yeah! I'm a man o' the times, after all, and it ain't like I got a crystal ball or some shit! Google's a hell of a lot faster!"
Krycek sighed, shaking his head. Leprechauns on the web. Definitely something Mulder would be tickled pink to know. Maybe Krycek could just give him the leprechaun in exchange for a fuck...
"Well, what are we waitin' for? I need to take a piss and I'm hungry. I hope you're not stayin' in some hole." The leprechaun danced from foot to foot, nearly losing his balance.
Krycek scowled and reached behind the leprechaun with his gun arm, pulling out a huge strongbox with a combination lock on it. Gun still in hand, he spun the dial left and right until the box sprung open, then he took the documents and currencies out of the box, laying them in the safe, careful to avoid the spilled vodka. The leprechaun eyed him warily.
"What's that for?" he asked nervously.
"Just think of it as an efficiency apartment," replied Krycek with a grin. Then he grabbed the leprechaun in both hands and shoved him into the box, slamming the lid down and giving the lock a spin.
"Let me outta here!" screamed the leprechaun furiously. "You can't do this! I'm...I'm afraid of the dark! I...I can't stand confined spaces!"
Krycek frowned, almost relenting out of a stab of empathy, then thought back to how he'd found the little man locked in a safe only double the size of his current accomodations.
"Dark didn't seem to bother you when you were drinking my vodka, you little prick," he said. "Hey, how the hell did you get in my safe, anyway? It was locked."
"Aw hell," muttered the little man, and Krycek heard a whump and assumed he had sat his green-clad ass down on the bottom of the box. "Cursed Irish money, broken promises, it was really just a misunderstanding, I'm tellin' ya."
Krycek snorted.
"I coulda got out just fine without your help," the leprechaun said petulantly. "I just figured I'd have a little drink while I was planning my strategy."
Krycek narrowed his eyes, lifting the box off the ground.
"Whoooaaa!" the man called out from inside the box. "You better watch it, kid, or I'm gonna hurl!"
Krycek sighed. He wondered if the creature really could escape from a locked steel box. He decided that if he could, he wouldn't have been trapped in Krycek's safe in the first place. Then he remembered something that made his lips curl into a grin very reminiscent of the Grinch.
Fairy folk lose their powers when they touch iron. So all Krycek had to do was get a little set of iron manacles and the creature was his. He stood up carefully, mindful of the leprechaun's warning, and put his gun away, taking his cellphone out instead. He punched in some numbers with his thumb.
"Yeah, Micheals? I need a special job. Iron manacles for ankles and wrists about half the size of Dana Scully's. Iron, not steel. Think you can do that? No, no I'm not doing anything that perverted, you sick fuck. Just get me the restraints. Thanks. I'll pick 'em up tonight." He ended the call and punched in another.
"Hey Theresa. Yeah, I know, too long. How's the brat? Oh good, that's good. Say, Theresa? Yeah, yeah, I know, I only call when I need something. Just think of all the favors I owe you. I need a sedative. Just enough for something about the size of a...medium dog. Yeah. Oh, about twelve hours or so. Syringe. Great, babe, great. Oh, you know it. Okay then. I'll pick it up in an hour. You're da bomb." He slid the phone into his pocket, ignoring the protests coming from the lock-box, the leprechaun having heard every word of both conversations.
He gave the box a shake, and there was a sharp thunk against the side. "You know, I can just decide to shoot you and make things easy on myself," he growled at the box, which was now emitting a string of creative expletives.
"But then you wouldn't get to slip it to Fox Mulder," said the box smugly, and Krycek had to smirk at the little creature's spunk.
"Just don't push me, little man," he warned. "My patience is limited, and even Fox Mulder's ass isn't worth putting up with this shit." The lie rolled smoothly off his experienced tongue, and the leprechaun quieted. Krycek smiled and strode for the door to pick up his supplies for the flight home.
#
"Did you have to stick me in with the goddamned luggage?" the leprechaun ranted, rattling his iron restraints where he was chained in front of the laptop.
"Quit bitchin'," scowled Krycek. "If I'm not fucking Fox Mulder by the end of the week, I'm gonna play hackey-sack with your kelly-green ass. Now get to it."
"All right, all right," whined the leprechaun, settling in in front of the computer. He clicked away at the keyboard a few minutes, then stopped. "I can't work with you hovering. Can't you go kill somebody or something?"
Krycek took a slow, calming breath. "I'm going to go watch TV," he said through clenched teeth. "You've got two hours to come up with something. Lucky for you, it's a two-parter tonight."
"God, the pressure," replied the man, typing again. "How am I supposed to function like this?" His hands moved furiously over the keyboard, and Krycek left him to his work.
Two hours later, Krycek got up and walked over to the desk where the leprechaun had been cyber-surfing throughout the Queer As Folk double feature. "So, what's the plan, shorty?"
The leprechaun glowered. "Do I make fun of your miniscule little nose or your girly eyelashes?" he snapped.
"Not if you don't wanna be locked in that strongbox and shaken like a pitcher of martinis," countered Krycek calmly.
"Uh yeah. Well, anyway, I think I have an idea. I found a website that seems to be just the kind of resource we need."
"Really. Do tell."
The leprechaun rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain, iron shackles clinking. "Okay, this is what we do. You wait until this Fox guy is at his favorite bar getting drunk, and you trick him into going out in the alley. You shove something in front of the door so nobody can come out and find you, then you push him up against the wall and give him a blowjob!"
Krycek stared. "That's your great idea? A blowjob in an alley?"
"I'm tellin' ya! It's classic! Works every time!"
"Oh, so you've done this trick before, have you?" Krycek asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Well, not exactly, but I've seen it done, and it's a keeper." The leprechaun grinned at Krycek confidently, and Krycek shook his head.
"Okay," he sighed. "I must be fucked in the head, but I'm gonna try this. You are gonna be locked in the box, stuck under the floorboards so that if I end up in jail they won't find your little body till the third milennium."
"What? That's not fair! I can't control circumstances that much! What if something happens?"
"Well, I guess we're both fucked," said Krycek.
"Wait, wait," said the little man, holding up his hands. "I'll give you a magic calling word. If you say this word, you'll be transported back to wherever I am. That way, if you end up in a bad situation, you can just say the word and get back to me and let me outta the damned box. Cool?"
"That sounds like a very good plan," said Krycek. "Mind if I test it out? You know what they say. Trust no one."
The leprechaun gave him a sarcastic smile. "Fine. You go into another part of the apartment and say the word. It'll teleport you right back to within five feet of me. Go on, try it."
"What's the word?"
"Beetlejuice."
"That one's been done before."
"Give me a break. Creativity ain't my strong suit. Just go with it."
Krycek sighed and turned away, looking back once as he strode quickly to the other end of the apartment. He rolled his eyes, feeling stupid, and muttered under his breath. "Beetlejuice."
He blinked and shook his head, standing right beside the desk where he had the leprechaun chained.
"See? Toldja. Maybe next time you won't be so paranoid."
"Shut up, half-pint," said Krycek casually. "So, how will I know when Mulder's at his watering hole, ready for me to suck him off in the alley?"
"Ooo I love it when you talk dirty," leered the little man. "If you give me something the guy's touched, I can look into the future a few days and tell you exactly where he'll be and when."
"Something he's touched."
"Yeah, too bad it ain't you, huh?" the leprechaun scoffed, and Krycek scowled and thumped him upside the head with his thumb and forefinger. "Ow! FUCK that hurt!"
Krycek turned and went into his bedroom, returning to lay a silk tie on the desk.
"Wow, that is one BUTT ugly tie," said the little man.
Krycek shrugged. "He's colorblind. Give him a break."
The leprechaun nodded as if that made sense, then placed both hands on the red, green, and blue polka-dots, closing his eyes. After several moments, his eyes snapped open. "Thursday. He's gonna finish up a mother of a case on Thursday, and at precisely 11:36, he's gonna get up from the bar stool, totally shitfaced, and head for the bathroom. That's your chance."
Krycek nodded, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "This better work, little man, or I'm gonna pin you to the wall and use you for target practice."
#
Krycek pushed the metal trash barrel in front of the door, breathing hard and trying to ignore the persistent throb in his bulging groin. So far the fairy's plan was working beautifully, Mulder just now tucking himself back in after taking a staggering piss up against the wall of the alley. Krycek stepped up behind him quietly, putting his gun into the small of his back.
"Hey, Fox."
"Whathefuck?" Mulder slurred, turning and sinking an elbow into Krycek's gut, too drunk to realize there was a gun in his back. Krycek let out an 'oof' and doubled over, and Mulder, still unaware of the gun, started swinging wildly, punching Krycek in the side of the head and knocking him to the side.
"Fuck!" yelled Krycek, ducking out from under Mulder's berserker blows. He rose up and quickly slammed Mulder's arms down to his sides, holding them there with his own arms locked firmly around the struggling agent.
"Leggo of me you stupid fuck!" Mulder spat, wriggling furiously.
Krycek wrinkled up his nose at the smell of vomit and tequila on Mulder's breath. Obviously that hadn't been his first trip to the restroom tonight. He decided he wouldn't be kissing Mulder's mouth this time around.
"Easy, Mulder. Easy. I'm not gonna hurt you." He tried to make his voice low and sexy, grunting slightly as Mulder attempted to wiggle free. "I'm just here to give you something."
A flash of pain blinded him as Mulder slammed his head forward, cracking it into Krycek's, and before Krycek could react, Mulder's bony knee slammed into his swollen crotch brutally.
"Motherfuck!" he screamed, letting go of Mulder and falling to his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain to subside enough for him to breathe. When he opened them, he was kneeling in a puddle of piss alone in the alley, with police sirens coming closer. Dragging himself to his feet, fighting dizziness, pain and nausea, he spoke through gritted teeth. "Beetlejuice."
He swayed on his feet at the side of his desk, catching himself on the edge. As soon as he'd regained his balance, he wrenched up the board in his floor and grabbed the box, jerking it out and slamming it on the desk.
"Hey! What the fuck?" screamed the little man inside.
Krycek's fingers shook as he spun the combination, and he ripped the lid open, grabbing the leprechaun by the front of his red vest and green jacket and shaking him.
"You little piece of *SHIT*!" he screamed into the leprechaun's face. "I'm gonna blow you into fucking next week!" He brought his gun to bear on the little man's forehead, thumbing off the safety.
"No! No! No, please! Please! What happened? Please don't kill me!"
"What...happened?" grated Krycek, jaw clenched painfully. "Let's just say I didn't get fucking *lucky*." His finger began to tighten on the trigger.
"Wait! Wait!" the leprechaun begged. "I don't know what happened! It should have worked! I swear! I was sure it would work! Please...please, I'll do anything!"
Krycek glared at the little man, the barrel of the gun making an impression into the pale skin of the small forehead. After several rage-filled minutes, he pulled the gun away slowly. The little leprechaun immediately collapsed in a dead faint. Scowling, Krycek shoved the man into the box, slamming it down on the desk and locking it. He staggered into the bathroom and peeled off his piss-soaked jeans and other clothes and took a long, soothing shower.
When he was clean and loose and much more relaxed, he stepped out and got into some comfortable sweats, walking over to the desk to check on his prisoner. He spun the combination and opened the lid to find the little man still unconscious.
"Hey," he said, prodding the leprechaun with his finger.
The leprechaun stirred, and then sat bolt upright, trembling with terror.
"Please! Please don't kill me! I'm sorry! I swear I'm only trying to help! It should have worked! Something must have gone wrong!"
"No shit something went wrong," said Krycek coldly. "You'd better have a new plan, and this one better work."
The leprechaun fell to his knees. "Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" he gibbered. "I do! I do have another idea! This one's bound to work! Please, just one more chance!"
Krycek sighed deeply. "What's your plan?"
The leprechaun got to his feet excitedly. "Okay, here's what we do. You wait for him at his apartment, and jump him when he comes in the door."
Krycek nodded slowly, listening.
"You hold your gun on him and give him some vital piece of information. Something that'll really make his head spin! Think you can dig up something like that?"
"I can give it a shot," said Krycek noncommitally. "Is that it?"
"No! That's not even the best part. See, when he's all flabbergasted over the information, sitting on the floor at your feet, you just lean in and kiss him!"
"Kiss him?"
"Yeah, kiss him! He'll be so stunned he won't know what to do! Then, for the piece de resistance, you hand him your gun!"
"No fucking way."
"Yeah, you gotta! It's a sign of good faith! He's sure to sleep with you then! Trust me!"
"There is no fucking *way* I'm gonna hold a gun on Fox Mulder in his own apartment then hand it to him so he can blow my head off. Try again." Krycek's look was pure ice and the leprechaun swallowed hard, thinking.
"I got it."
Krycek sighed. "What."
"You send him an anonymous package. Vodka-filled chocolates."
"Why would I do that?"
"He'll be sure to know they're from you! Don't you see? He thinks you're Russian, not black-Irish! Vodka, man! Plus the whole chocolate fixation! I mean, you eat the shit like it's going outta style...surely he knows that, right?"
"Maybe," said Krycek hesitantly. "He used to tease me about it when we were partners..."
"Well there ya go," said the leprechaun decisively. "Send him the candy. He'll be all over you like a cheap suit. Oh, no offense," said the leprechaun, referring to Krycek's telling of his early days at the Bureau.
"Asshole," muttered Krycek. "So he gets this candy, and he knows it's from me. So what? Then what happens?"
"Then you make it easy for him to track you down, and he comes and finds you to tell you that he feels the same way!"
"You're shitting me, right?"
"No! I swear! It's gonna work! Just put some cryptic info in with the candy to give him a hint on how to find you! You know Mulder! He'll figure it out!"
Krycek's eyes narrowed as he studied the little man. "Can you 'watch' him, using that tie, so we know when he gets the package?"
"Yeah! Yeah, sure I can!" said the leprechaun excitedly. "Let's do it!"
#
The leprechaun sat with his hands on the tie as Krycek paced.
"Well?"
"The messenger's dropping the package off right now," said the leprechaun in a daze, meditating on the polka-dots. "Mulder's partner, Dana Scully, is opening the envelope."
"Scully! Wait! That's not in the plan!"
The leprechaun ignored him, deeply in trance. "She's showing it to Mulder, and they're both looking it over carefully. Mulder's frowning...Scully's shaking her head and it looks like she's scolding him...something about anthrax...um...he's taking the package from her hands..."
"Yeah, and? Did he find the note? What's he doing?"
"He's walking down the hall...he hasn't opened the box of candy yet so he hasn't found the note...and he's..."
"What?" asked Krycek frantically. "What's he doing?"
The leprechaun's shoulder's slumped. "Shit. He just threw it in the dumpster."
"Oh nice. That's just great, you little green *freak*!" yelled Krycek, grabbing him up in a stranglehold again. "Why the fuck are you still alive? Why am I listening to you? You're full of shit!"
The leprechaun started crying now, truly afraid. "No, please wait!" he sobbed. "I don't know what's wrong! That...it should have...maybe it's because it wasn't Valentine's Day!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"It was on Valentine's Day before! It worked! It worked perfectly!"
Krycek pulled the little man up into his face. "You know what?"
"Wha-wha-what?" the small man stammered.
"I'm not gonna listen to another one of your idiot, internet-spawned schemes," he spat into the leprechaun's face. "But you are gonna help me get in good with Mulder."
"I...I...I am?"
Krycek nodded. He reached behind him and pulled out a cat carrier. "Get in."
"Wh-where are we going?" asked the little man, trembling violently.
Krycek said nothing, shoving the man into the cat carrier and locking it securely. The leprechaun's iron shackles clacked against the plastic sides of the carrier. Krycek pulled out his cellphone and punched in a number angrily.
"Mulder, I have something I think you're gonna wanna see. Calm down, Mulder. No...No, I told you I was there to give you someth-...Listen, Mulder, please, I promise you, you're gonna wanna see this. Well, what I've got here is something only you can truly appreciate. I'd rather not say over the phone. Can we meet somewhere? Yeah, I know the park. Okay, I'll see you then."
"Yes!" Krycek punched the air and swung the carrier in an arc.
"Aaaaaaa!" cried the leprechaun. "What the fuck's going on?"
Krycek said nothing, grinning and setting the carrier on the floor, then walking into his bedroom to get changed.
#
"Hands up, Krycek." Mulder came up behind him, patting him down for weapons. Krycek smiled faintly as Mulder found the gun in the waistband of his jeans and pulled it out roughly. He patiently waited through the rest of the frisking, lowering his arms when Mulder found no more weapons. "What's in the carrier?"
Krycek turned around, a big smile on his face. "Ever heard of the little folk, Mulder?"
Mulder frowned, still holding his gun trained squarely on Krycek's chest.
"I've brought you one. Consider it a gift."
Mulder's frown deepened. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Krycek kicked the side of the carrier.
"Ow! Fuck! Couldn't you just tap or somethin'?"
Mulder's mouth dropped open, eyes wide. Krycek's grin broadened, showing teeth. Keeping his gun pointed at Krycek, Mulder began to squat down, looking from Krycek to the carrier and back again. Krycek crouched with him, watching Mulder delightedly, ignoring the carrier. Mulder leaned in, trying to see through the small grate. There was a movement inside the carrier and Mulder jumped back, nearly falling on his ass.
Krycek laughed and tilted his head, thoroughly enjoying the stunned look of happy fascination quickly taking over Mulder's features. Mulder absently lowered the gun, thumbing on the safety and sliding it into his holster, then he leaned in slowly, looking at the small figure kneeling behind the bars.
"Hi," Mulder said softly.
"Hey," replied the leprechaun.
"Are...are you an elf?"
The leprechaun snorted. "I thought you said he was smart," he scoffed. Krycek's grin hardened and he knocked his hand against the side of the carrier sharply.
"Ow! Okay, okay, I know, I know...he's dreamy. Really. Sex on legs, just like you said."
Krycek blushed, closing his eyes. "Shut *up*," he grated. He opened his eyes to find Mulder's eyes flicking from the leprechaun to Krycek's face and back again.
"Sex on legs?" asked Mulder, arching an eyebrow.
"It's a leprechaun," said Krycek, ignoring Mulder's comment, trying to control the warmth creeping up his neck and face.
"A leprechaun! Really?" asked Mulder, bending in again. "How do you know?"
"Well duh," said the leprechaun. "Maybe because I told him?"
Krycek scowled and pounded his fist on the top of the carrier, cracking the plastic slightly.
"Hey, hey, don't hurt him," said Mulder, putting his hand out and grabbing Krycek's wrist.
Krycek swallowed and made no attempt to pull free, breathing hard. Mulder looked into his eyes a moment, then, not letting go of Krycek's wrist, leaned in toward the grate again, settling in on his knees.
"What's his name?" he asked, glancing over at Krycek.
Krycek licked his lips, willing his voice not to come out shaky. He'd never been touched by Mulder in anything but anger, and he was finding it hard to concentrate. "Uh...I actually have no idea."
"Hey, I'm right here, sextoy," said the leprechaun indignantly. "And no, your pretty boyfriend there never asked me my name. Rude little shit, ain't he?"
Krycek's arm twitched, wanting to hit the carrier again, but Mulder's grip tightened just slightly, holding him from it.
"He can be, yeah," said Mulder, smirking. Krycek's mouth dropped open, his brain totally unable to comprehend that Mulder hadn't corrected the leprechaun's snide label. "So, what *is* it, then?"
"Peter O'Malley's my name," said the leprechaun. "You can call me Pete. Nice to meet you, Fox."
"Don't call him Fox," said Krycek quietly, and Mulder turned to him, eyebrow arched. Krycek blinked, trying to control his urge to just fall forward into Mulder's arms. Mulder finally broke the gaze, turning back to the leprechaun. Krycek sighed softly.
"He's right, Pete. I prefer Mulder, if it's all the same to you."
"Hey, whatever blows your skirt up," said Pete. "Still, it's a great name." He waggled his eyebrows and Mulder's brow drew into a worried frown. "Fits ya."
Krycek scowled and thumped the side of the carrier with his free arm, wondering briefly if Mulder would grab that one, too. If he did, it would pull Krycek off balance and he *would* fall right into Mulder's arms. Mulder didn't, just frowning at the leprechaun anxiously.
"Easy! Easy!" said the leprechaun, righting himself after being knocked over by the hard thump. "He's all yours, pretty-boy! Too young for me anyway!"
"Oh God," Krycek moaned, eyes closing.
"I...didn't know leprechauns were gay," said Mulder slowly, looking increasingly uncomfortable.
"Not gay, just...flexible," explained Pete.
"There aren't a whole lot of female leprechauns, it seems," added Krycek through clenched teeth, eyes still closed. To his relief, Mulder laughed, and the sound was so beautiful Krycek found a lump forming in his throat. He opened his eyes to find Mulder grinning at him. He couldn't help but smile back.
"So, Krycek," said Mulder, still smiling. "You flexible, too?"
Krycek gasped softly and licked his lips repeatedly. "Yeah," he finally choked out. "I'm very flexible, Mulder." It came out as a sigh.
"Flexibility's good," said Mulder, nodding slightly, smile fading. Then he turned back to the leprechaun. "So, are you gonna have to cough up your gold for Krycek, here, or is that all just a myth?"
"It's just a myth," Krycek said quickly, trying to interrupt anything the leprechaun might say. But Pete just grinned nastily and looked directly at Mulder.
"Naw, it's not really a myth," he said. "'Specially when the guy that finds you puts a gun to your head. You're ready to do about anything at that point. Lucky if you don't piss your knickers."
Mulder tried not to smile.
"But he didn't want money," said the leprechaun, glancing to the side, waiting for Krycek to smack the box. Krycek just sighed, closing his eyes and listening to his heart pound.
"Oh?" asked Mulder, glancing at Krycek's strained face and back to the leprechaun's.
"Nope. Didn't want money or power or fame or women." The little man grinned, practically salivating at the chance to spill his secret.
"So what is it you have to give him in exchange for your freedom?" asked Mulder, genuinely puzzled.
"He wants you," said the leprechaun smugly.
Krycek fell to his knees with a sigh, covering his face with the hand not being restrained by Mulder.
"Excuse me?" Mulder's voice was high and breathy.
Pete sounded annoyed. "I said, the only thing in this world that he wants is you. Fox Mulder."
Mulder was quiet, and Krycek couldn't bear to look up, dizziness nearly making him topple over.
"I see," said Mulder finally. "And exactly what is it he wants to do with me, anyway?"
"Oh hell," moaned Krycek into his hand, at the same time Pete said, "He loves you. Figure it out."
"What?" said Mulder, leaning in closer to Pete. "I didn't hear you."
"I said he loves you," said Pete irritably.
Krycek began hyperventilating, his arm shaking in Mulder's grasp.
"So you're saying," Mulder began, his grip on Krycek relaxing, but not releasing. "That Krycek could have had anything he wanted. Anything in the world. And the only thing he asked for...was me?"
"And he said you were brilliant," snorted Pete by way of an answer, shaking his head.
Krycek waited, willing his body not to fall, his consciousness not to fade out.
"Krycek?" Mulder's voice was soft and curious. "Alex?"
Krycek muffled the quiet sob behind his palm and squeezed his eyes shut more tightly.
"Alex, you gotta talk to me. I need some confirmation, here. I don't exactly trust this horny little fairy."
Krycek laughed into his hand and sniffed, finally raising his eyes to Mulder's. Mulder was gazing at him with anxious, open curiosity. Krycek took several deep breaths and spoke, his voice a shaky, breathy rasp. "His ideas are for shit, and his attitude sucks weasels, but the little asshole doesn't lie."
Mulder's brow furrowed, and Krycek held his breath. Then Mulder leaned in slowly, slowly, pulling slightly on Krycek's arm, tugging him closer. He kept his eyes trained squarely on Krycek's as he closed the distance between them, and as he touched his lips softly to Krycek's, Krycek breathed a quiet sob against them.
"Slip him the tongue!" yelled the leprechaun.
Mulder thumped the side of the cat carrier but took his advice, and Krycek fell against him, wrapping his arms around him, moaning and whimpering as Mulder took his mouth. Mulder slid his hand up the arm he'd been holding for so long, cupping the base of Krycek's skull and pulling him in harder, the other arm slipping around Krycek's waist and holding him tightly as he kissed him.
"You two gonna do it right here in the trees?" asked the leprechaun excitedly. "Scoot over here a little! I can't see shit!"
Mulder started laughing into Krycek's mouth and Krycek laughed back. With another kiss to Krycek's lips, Mulder pulled back, grinning. Krycek grinned back, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"This doesn't make any sense," Mulder said quietly. Krycek could feel the breath of the words warming his face.
"I know," he said quietly. "I never believed in leprechauns either."
"No," said Mulder, bringing his hand around to cup Krycek's cheek, brushing his thumb over the soft, moist lips. Krycek shivered. "I mean you, loving me."
"Oh," said Krycek, and the motion allowed Mulder's thumb to slide into Krycek's mouth. He licked at it cautiously. Mulder sighed.
"This is really fucked up," Mulder breathed, lashes fluttering.
"Mmmm..." Krycek agreed, closing his mouth over Mulder's thumb and sucking and tongueing it in earnest, closing his eyes.
"By rights, I should be beating the shit out of you," Mulder gasped, moving his hand to let Krycek suck his finger in.
"Mmmhmm..." Krycek agreed again, beginning to press his hips into Mulder's, pushing their matching erections together gently as they pressed in tightly.
Mulder pulled his finger free and took Krycek's mouth in another long, deep, groaning kiss, grinding their bodies together, sliding one hand up under Krycek's shirt, the other wrapped firmly in his hair once again.
"Hey, leather boy! What about me?" yelled the leprechaun, shaking his cage. "I gotcha what you wanted! You gotta let me go now!"
Mulder moaned and pulled out of the kiss. "He's right, ya know."
Krycek smiled tremulously, hardly believing his good fortune. He sighed and licked his lips. "I guess," he said softly. "But I gave him to you."
"Well, I don't need money or power or fame or women either," said Mulder, stroking his thumb at the nape of Krycek's neck, delighting in the shivers this produced.
"Uhnn..." Krycek answered, eyes closing again.
"So we may as well let him go," finished Mulder, pulling his hand out from under Krycek's shirt. Krycek shivered and opened his eyes, watching as Mulder leaned over and unlocked the cat carrier.
Pete shoved the door open, stepping out and shaking his iron restraints impatiently.
"Gotta unlock them," explained Krycek, letting go of Mulder and sliding his hand between their bodies, fishing in his jeans pocket for the key. Mulder just grunted and smiled as Krycek took an extra long time, moving his thumb much more than it seemed would be necessary for such a simple undertaking.
"Jesus, get a room," Pete said, rolling his eyes.
Krycek pulled the key out and leaned away from Mulder, and Pete stepped closer, shaking his head as Krycek refused to leave his position to unlock him. As the iron dropped away, Pete bounced and shook his hands, grinning wildly.
"Hey, Alex, it was good workin' with ya. You're not half bad."
"Thanks, Pete. Thanks for everything."
Pete turned to Mulder. "Nice ta meetcha, sex-on-legs. Can't thank you enough for making leather-boy here hold up his end of the bargain after everything I put him through."
Mulder frowned, arching one eyebrow curiously. "Sure, Pete," he said, extending his hand and carefully shaking Pete's small one. "And thank you." He looked briefly at Krycek, who was staring at him, then looked back over to where the leprechaun was standing.
Pete was gone, no sign of him anywhere around. Mulder and Krycek both turned their heads, looking all around, then finally gave up and just looked at each other.
"I suppose we really should do what he said," Mulder commented casually.
"Huh?" replied Krycek, brain still not fully functioning.
"Get a room," said Mulder. He leaned in as Krycek's lips parted in surprise, using that opportunity to slip his tongue in one last time before pulling back and getting to his feet.
They both stood up, drawing apart, becoming somewhat awkward in the dark of the quiet night. Krycek bent and grabbed the handle of the cat carrier, not daring to speak and break the spell.
"Tell you what," said Mulder, shattering the heavy silence. "Why don't you come over to my apartment, and we'll have a beer while you explain what Pete meant by 'everything he put you through'."
Krycek ducked his head, looking up at Mulder from under his lashes and grinning. "Okay, Mulder," he said. "I'll tell you everything." They walked through the park, fingers touching at their sides from time to time.
Pete watched them from the bushes, smiling proudly. "Another job well- done," he said to himself. "This calls for a Stoli!"
End. ;-)