***

"Good luck? That's it?"

Mulder's voice froze Alex Krycek at the door of the apartment, and he turned slowly to face the other man.

Mulder still sat on the floor, one long leg tucked neatly under him, the other stretched out in front. His shirt had come untucked from his pants, Krycek noticed, and one of the buttons was missing, evidence of their earlier scuffle.  He was holding one hand to the cheek Krycek had just kissed, and his eyes were half-closed, looking dreamy and heavy lidded.

Warily, Krycek stepped back into the living room, watching both Mulder's face and the gun that was now back on the floor, but within easy reach of Mulder's hand. 

"How did you know what I said?" he whispered the question, then felt stupid for asking it. Mulder had been in Russia with him, he had to have picked up some of the language, and with his eidetic memory, he would have retained both the words and the meaning.

"Know thy enemy," Mulder replied without opening his eyes. "If you can talk the talk, you can walk the walk." A tired smile creased his lips, and he was rubbing his fingertips softly over his cheek now, making tiny circles that held Krycek's fascination for a moment as the man crouched down in front of Mulder.

"That's a worse line than the one handed beating one, Mulder," Krycek's eyes never left Mulder's hand, but he unerringly pushed the gun away from both of them. The skittering sound it made as it bounced across the hardwood to come to rest under a chair sounded loud in the dark quiet room.

"Thank you, I'll be here all week. Next show in five minutes." Mulder still hadn't looked at him.

Krycek stopped and just stared a moment, a million different feelings in him, defying categorizing, making him nervous, making him feel more than he wanted to. He didn't like it…much.

His hand moved seemingly of it's own volition, to touch Mulder's hand and still it's restless movement.

Mulder's eyes opened and he clutched at the other man's hand, dragging him forward until they were nose to nose.

"I don't care about your war, Alex, or your best interests. But I'm not the coward you are." And with that, Mulder put his other hand on the back of Krycek's neck and pulled him forward, closing the small distance between them and forcing the other man's mouth open with his tongue.

Krycek struggled briefly, but surprise and fear quickly melted away and he was left with confusion and desire and a need he refused to name even as he kissed Mulder back, tasting his former partner as he'd done in dreams a lifetime ago.

They kissed for long moments, tongues thrusting, teeth nipping, lips sucking, passion warring with barely restrained violence, their entire relationship summed up in this one desperate act.

Then Mulder pushed Alex away so suddenly and with such vehemence that he yelped and fell to the floor, bruising his tailbone. He sat up, dazed and flushed, and saw that Mulder had closed his eyes again, and there was blood on his mouth.

"Get out, Alex, before I do something we'll both regret." 

"Mulder…" Krycek rose unsteadily to his feet, his eyes never leaving the other man. When Mulder refused to look at him, he made his way back to the door, noting unhappily that lust and fear were combining to make his legs unsteady, his hands shake, even the fake one, and his cock harder than he'd ever felt in his life.

Mulder's words stopped him at the door again.

"Resist or serve, Alex." The whisper sounded like a shout to Krycek, the words felt like a knife. "Fight, or die."

Alex Krycek fled from the room, fled his desire, fled the choice Mulder was giving him.

Mulder put a hand to his swollen lip, winced and whispered, "Good luck to you, my…"