Half a World Away by Jane St. Clair (NC-17)

[lapillus]

Fandom: X-FILES
Pairing: Dana Scully/Alex Krycek
Author on LJ: 3jane
Author Website: Janefic
Why this must be read:
As with the previously recced "Deny Nothing" we have Scully and Krycek and kidnapping, only this time it is Scully who has been kidnapped, with Krycek doing the rescuing (more or less). If Rivka T's Scully and Krycek are all sharp edges and banter, Jane St. Clair's have both been worn to greater sympathy by life. Like most road trip fiction, on and off screen, this story is more about the evolution of characters and relationships than it is about place or plot.

Scully pulled herself up in bed and wrapped an arm around her bare knees. The t-shirt Krycek had given her to sleep in had sleeves that brushed her elbows, but it did little enough to keep her warm. The bones in her right wrist grated against the metal cuff that held her chained to the bed.

The clock between the beds counted off twenty-five minutes before Krycek came back. Scully had long since lain back down and curled herself into a sleeping position. He slipped in, pulled a gun (Smith & Wesson 9mm) from his jacket pocket, and threw it on the chair next to the clothes she was supposed to wear in the morning. Scully couldn't imagine what her expression had been when he held out the jeans, asked, "Size six, right?" and threw them to her. He'd watched her so neutrally, offering a cellophane-wrapped sandwich and tea that he'd somehow coaxed out of the rickety motel room coffee maker.

It occurred to her as Krycek started to strip now that he didn't realize she was awake. He moved differently when he thought he was out of her view. His studiedly casual pose had gone the way of the over-eager puppy. The man opposite her displayed a mass of raw nerves and energy. Thick muscles stretched tight as he bent to unlace his boots and pull them off. Scully thought idly as Krycek shed his jacket and the zippered sweater beneath that if he were ever to reach a healthy body weight, he'd mass close to two hundred pounds. At the moment, he wasn't nearly that. He looked like a hungry animal, muscle and nerve without body fat stretched over heavy bone. It was intimidating. And extremely sexy.

When he'd come back from Russia, Mulder had told her a story that seemed four tenths myth and five tenths imagination. The spies and stone mines and scenes of whip-wielding men on horseback had felt more like something from a turn-of-the-century novel than a trip to investigate a biohazard in Siberia. Most of it she'd put down to Mulder's rage at losing both his prisoner and his answers. She couldn't believe that senior Russian officers came to North America for the simple pleasure of being treated like sewer rats.

Krycek continued to disrobe in the darkness. Scully only realized what was wrong with him as he struggled out of his t-shirt. His left arm wouldn't raise properly. He pulled the garment off with his right hand and eased it over his left shoulder with conspicuous care. The marks where the prosthetic arm's straps had cut into his skin showed black. His right hand moved in a practised gesture to release the buckles and lift the artificial limb off his body.

She must have made a sound, then, because Krycek spun sharply round and stared wide-eyed at her through the darkness. There wasn't any way to disguise the fact that her eyes were open. Somehow in the last few minutes she had pulled herself into a half-sitting posture that left her entirely visible. The green eyes he turned on her were electric and the faint light slipping in below the curtains was more than enough to show her that he was blushing. It was a strange effect, one that kept her perfectly still as he moved towards her.

If Krycek reminded her of Mulder at moments, this was not among them. He was using his bulk in a gesture of purely physical threat that drove her back against the pillows without ever touching her. He looked like he was bleeding just beneath his surface. He looked like pain. He looked very, very young.

fuck you don't you pity me

I don't I don't have pity left for anyone except myself

If he stayed this close to her, she was going to touch him, and there was no way she could justify it.

Krycek pulled roughly away from her and crossed the room to his own bed. With his back to her, he snarled, "Go to sleep, Scully. We're leaving at dawn."

Half a World Away

Comments

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psstt -- I think you have a bad usertag for the author's name on LJ.