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crack_van2006-04-10 08:39 am
humming-along.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2006-04-10 08:39 am
Entry tags:
Shades of Gray by Ladyluck (R)
Fandom: THE X-FILES
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek
Author on LJ: Not that I know of
Author Website: unknown
Why this must be read:
This story has everything. Great banter, lots of angst, and voices that are true to the characters. Mulder recognizes that all that self-righteous indignation has made him just a little bitter, and Krycek, as usual, can control just about everything except his reaction to Mulder. There's honesty and introspection, fantastic dialogue and a romance that doesn't leave you feeling covered in sap.
His eyes are shadowed, but he doesn't look as fatigued as he sometimes has in the past. He doesn't sleep well; he's told me this. A few weeks ago he showed up looking pale with exhaustion, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as we talked.
I said his name -- "Alex?" -- and he looked at me, startled. It had been a long time since I called him that. Not that I was concerned, really. With informants, healthy is better, that's all. I expected him to pull back and stonewall me, but for some reason, he didn't.
"Do you remember, aah..." He cleared his throat, looking down. "The first case we worked, that guy Cole?"
"Yeah," I said, wondering where he was going with this.
"How he said he couldn't sleep...?" He was playing with a drinking straw, bending it between his fingers in quick, nervous little jerks. "He said he hadn't slept in...months...thought he was going crazy sometimes..." His voice rose and trailed off and he looked at me. In his eyes I saw my own long nights watching porn, surfing the net, pouring shots of whiskey that never did the trick. Watching the pale blue light creep across the ceiling and knowing I'd have to be at work again all too soon.
"Yeah," I said. "I know." In that moment the roles and masks slid away, and there we were. Just two sad, lonely bastards who can't sleep at night.
See, I've come to realize that in the Great Satanic Chessboard of Life, neither one of us is the king, or the queen, or the knights we once imagined we were. He plays for the black side and I play for the white side, but we're both just pawns, really. And pawns meet in the middle.
Shades of Gray
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek
Author on LJ: Not that I know of
Author Website: unknown
Why this must be read:
This story has everything. Great banter, lots of angst, and voices that are true to the characters. Mulder recognizes that all that self-righteous indignation has made him just a little bitter, and Krycek, as usual, can control just about everything except his reaction to Mulder. There's honesty and introspection, fantastic dialogue and a romance that doesn't leave you feeling covered in sap.
His eyes are shadowed, but he doesn't look as fatigued as he sometimes has in the past. He doesn't sleep well; he's told me this. A few weeks ago he showed up looking pale with exhaustion, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as we talked.
I said his name -- "Alex?" -- and he looked at me, startled. It had been a long time since I called him that. Not that I was concerned, really. With informants, healthy is better, that's all. I expected him to pull back and stonewall me, but for some reason, he didn't.
"Do you remember, aah..." He cleared his throat, looking down. "The first case we worked, that guy Cole?"
"Yeah," I said, wondering where he was going with this.
"How he said he couldn't sleep...?" He was playing with a drinking straw, bending it between his fingers in quick, nervous little jerks. "He said he hadn't slept in...months...thought he was going crazy sometimes..." His voice rose and trailed off and he looked at me. In his eyes I saw my own long nights watching porn, surfing the net, pouring shots of whiskey that never did the trick. Watching the pale blue light creep across the ceiling and knowing I'd have to be at work again all too soon.
"Yeah," I said. "I know." In that moment the roles and masks slid away, and there we were. Just two sad, lonely bastards who can't sleep at night.
See, I've come to realize that in the Great Satanic Chessboard of Life, neither one of us is the king, or the queen, or the knights we once imagined we were. He plays for the black side and I play for the white side, but we're both just pawns, really. And pawns meet in the middle.
Shades of Gray
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