Author: Noirceur refuses to take credit. So I guess that leaves...sigh...Josan
Beta: Are you kidding!!!!!!!
Summary: Not giving one. Read the bloody thing, eh!
Pairing: Well, Krycek is in it.
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Only RatB. And I mean that.
Warning: The pairing and the fact that this will be the only X- Files baby-fic (such as it is) I will ever write.
Background:
When I posted the AK/Simon Banks (The Sentinel) crossover, I was subtly dared to write this pairing.
Sigh.
I was in that kind of a mood and I took it up.
I now fully understand Geraldine (a Flip Wilson character) who used to say, "The devil made me do it!"
Except in my case, it was K'Kathy. To whom this story is dedicated.
Disclaimer: Sniffle. I refuse to acknowledge any link to this story. I did not write it. I did not plot it. It is not my fault. You know whose it is. You can direct all flames to her. I am pure and innocent.
Oh, yes. Of course. The people who created the original characters are also totally innocent in this exercise.

Mulder hung up the phone with a muttered curse. Muttered because as Scully was so wont to preach: little ears have big pitchers. And though cliched as that was, it was also true. Will was in the repeat stage of language.

He sighed again.

Scully was off at a conference with Skinner. Before leaving, she had made him promise that he would stay home, keeping a eye on their son. No sneaking off to the Gunmen. No going to see what Doggett and Reyes were up to with their latest X-file. After all, it was only for three days, and not quite that as she would be back in the afternoon tomorrow.

So Mulder had sworn on a stack of bibles—well, he had offered to, they only had the one and Scully had raised that sarcastic eyebrow of hers at him when he had offered to swear on it—that he would indeed stay home all that time. She could count on him. After all, it wasn't a bad idea, a little male bonding between him and his son.

Except this call had come through and if he wanted the information he needed for the case he was working on—who said consultations were boring?—he needed to meet with the man within the hour. And he had worked so hard to set this up. Why couldn't informants hold to better schedules?

He sighed yet again.

The problem was that the people who usually sat with Will whenever he and Scully went out were not available. Scully's mom was off visiting her other grandchildren. Mulder scoffed. As if any of them were worth spending time with now that Will was around! And Skinner, who was a hoot around the kid, was off with Scully.

The Gunmen?

Scully would skin him alive!

He needed to go to this meeting. Hell, the informant was skittish as well. He might never have this chance again.

Mulder shook his head. Dire circumstances called for dire measures.

He braced himself, picked up the phone. "Krycek, I need a favour."

Mulder had to admit that there were times when his son befuddled him.

Will hated strangers with a passion. Barely tolerated his own attentions—though he certainly liked his father, of that Mulder had no doubt. But he could not understand his son's fascination with the ex-assassin who had set up house with his ex-boss.

He opened the door as the black jeep pulled into the driveway, next to the child-centred sedan that Scully had insisted they buy.

As Krycek came around...

"Ah-lex! Ah-lex! Ah-lex!!!!"

...two-and-a-half year old Will came running out of the house to throw himself at the man who had crouched to catch him in his arms.

"Hey, Will! How goes it?"

Will grinned at Krycek, wrapped his arms around the Rat's neck and gave his usual answer, "It goes, Ah-lex!"

Both of them laughed at a joke that only the two of them understood.

Mulder sighed, but only to himself. He needed to get to that meeting and he couldn't afford to alienate Krycek.

"Thanks for doing this, Krycek."

Krycek kept his grin to himself. He knew he was a last resort for Mulder.

"No prob. The kid's cool. I don't mind spending time with him. Eh, Mulder, how long are you going to be gone?"

Mulder shrugged. "I should be back in a couple of hours. Listen, if the phone rings, don't pick up, okay?"

Krycek smiled. "Wouldn't want Scully to know that you've dumped your son."

"I am not dumping my son," snapped Mulder, highly insulted at the notion. "I need..."

"It's okay, Mulder. Get going. The faster you're there, the faster you'll be back. Call me on my cell if you're going to be longer than you think. Come on, Will, let's go see what new toys you have in your bedroom. That," he grinned over his shoulder at Mulder, "should allow your dad time to get away without your noticing."

Damn, thought Mulder, gritting his teeth, if he weren't so desperate...

The house was filled with toys thought appropriate for a child Will's age. Of course, he ignored most. His latest passion was a Sesame Street tape that he loved playing over and over again. He and Krycek settled in front of the TV, snacks at hand. One of the reasons, Krycek thought, the kid liked him so much. Snacks, according to Scully, had to be healthy. Cut carrots, de-stringed celery, apples. Snacks, according to Krycek, were chocolate milk, ice cream. Even at ten in the morning.

By one o'clock, Krycek knew that Mulder was off somewhere, probably either having lost his cell phone again or just plain forgetting his promise to call in. He had made Will and himself some lunch, had cleaned the kid up—he was fascinated by the fact that as much made it onto the kid's face and clothes as into his mouth—and settled him into that crib-thing for a post-meal nap.

Krycek took out his cell, placed it on the coffee table by the couch and stretched out for his own nap. He'd been working—if it could be called that — with the Gunmen until all hours of the morning. Something he did only when Skinner was out of town. Walter was always wary whenever Krycek got together with the Gunmen. With good reason, thought Krycek, yawning. It was amazing what secrets the Pentagon data banks revealed if you knew where to look for them.

He was standing in some strange neighbourhood that, though he knew wasn't part of his usual stomping grounds, was slightly familiar to him.

There was a garbage can by some steps that led into a regular apartment building. A vacant lot that had been converted into a small playground. Streets that were weirdly quiet for this time of the day. There were several stores that also looked uninhabited.

Maybe, he thought, it was some holiday. That could explain it. Except, even on holidays, there were usually people about.

He looked around, carefully scrutinizing the area for any signs of life. He reached for his weapon...only to find that he had none. Not surprising. He was naked. Stark naked. And he had two arms.

He stared at his left arm, looking at it, not understanding why its presence would make him feel...astonished. Hell, everyone had two arms. Why...?

"Well, hel-lo. You're new to the neighbourhood, aren't you?"

Alex looked around.

There, coming out from behind a fence, was a large yellow talking bird.

He wasn't certain but he didn't think birds that big could talk. Didn't seem to be bothering this one.

"I would certainly have recognized you if you were." The bird moved up, leering at him. "I know everyone in the neighbourhood. I don't know you."

Alex looked the bird over. Taller than he was, covered with yellow feathers, but instead of having the usual wings, the thing had arm- and hand-like appendages, also covered with tiny yellow feathers.

"Well, I've never seen anything like you. What kind of bird are you?"

The bird cocked its head to one side, brought a hand up to the side of its face. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it? I'm a Big Bird."

Alex nodded. "Yes, you are."

"So are you," snickered the bird. "Big that is. Does that thing," he pointed to Alex's own appendage, "get any bigger?"

Alex looked down. He was a bit taken aback to find that part of his body seemed was responding. To what? The bird's tone? Its innuendo?

So he wasn't surprised to see while that yellow feathered hand experimented with his cock, feeling it, that it did indeed grow.

The hand took a solid grip and his cock responded even more.

Alex closed his eyes. My, that felt so nice! Not like a human hand. The touch, for all its firmness, was light. Almost...well, feathery. It tickled as well as aroused.

His hips jerked in response.

"Very nice," chirped the bird. "Very nice indeed. You know, I have a place where we can be much more comfortable. Why don't we go there?"

Before Alex could say anything, the bird took a really firm grip on his cock and a step back, pulling Alex along with him. And then another step. And then another.

Well, thought Alex, what choice did he have? He had to follow, didn't he?

So he did.

The nest was huge—would have to be, wouldn't it—to fit a big bird. To one side, there was a short four step ladder to climb into it. Alex followed the hand that gently tugged him along.

It was surprisingly comfortable, feathered in yellow as it was. Like resting on a feather mattress, thought Alex. Having once slept on one in Siberia, he could make the comparison.

The bird smiled at him, pushed him back so that he settled into the soft depths.

"You're very beautiful," said the bird. "We don't have people in the neighbourhood with eyes that colour."

"Thank you," said Alex. "I've been told that they're my best feature."

The bird looked down at the body spread out for its appraisal in its nest. "Oh," it purred, "I wouldn't say your best."

As the bird played with him, using its hands to stroke his body, the bill teasingly nipped at his nipples, adding to the sensations that now coursed through him.

He knew that something about this picture was not right, but...who cared when he felt this good!

Those feathered hands gripped Alex's cock and that light gentle firm touch soon rendered him impossible of thought.

He was hard, erect and his hips bucked, trying hard to get those hands to bring him to orgasm.

Instead, he felt a weight and his cock slowly slid into a warm, slicked sheath.

Alex opened his eyes, as much as he could. There should have been something incongruous about the fact that the bird was riding him, its hands gripping the sides of the nest for balance as it rose and settled on his cock.

Too much, thought Alex. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feelings in his body.

The weight pounded on his stomach to the beat of "Ah-lex! Ah-lex! Ah-lex!"

He was close, so very close. Maybe if he opened his eyes again, encouraged the bird on, it would go faster.

So he did.

"Ah-lex! Ah-lex! Ah-lex!"

Will pounded his hand on Krycek's stomach, narrowly missing the bulge in his jeans.

Krycek gulped, sat up quickly.

Holy shit! What kind of dream was that?!

Krycek smoothed the hair off his face. He looked around.

"Hey, Will, what are you doing out of your bed?"

Will grinned at him. "I climb. Ah-lex? What this?" And Will innocently patted his slowly subsiding erection.

Krycek gently removed Will's little hand. "Something your daddy will have to explain to you one day."

He slowly stood, looked at his watch. Hell, it was three o'clock. Where the fuck was Mulder?

"Snack?" asked Will.

Willing to move the boy's interest onto other things, Krycek nodded. "Ice cream?"

Will gave a squeal of delight. Ice cream! Again!

Krycek settled the kid in his highchair, served them both up a bowl of the cold stuff, kept his on his lap all the while appreciating that certain parts of the human anatomy responded negatively to the temperature.

Mulder showed up around five. Embarrassed.

"Sorry, it took longer than I thought."

Krycek thought it was very good of him not to mention the torn jacket, the dirt on a cheek, the mud-encrusted knees on his jeans. He left, leaving Mulder to deal with a Will who was wound up high on chocolate milk and ice cream.

At Christmas that year, Skinner and Krycek were in a bookstore, deciding on what to add to Will's ever growing collection of books.

"Here's one. Scully was telling me just how much Will loves this character."

Skinner didn't understand why his lover shuddered and looked askance at the book with the big yellow bird on the cover.

The End

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