Title: "Just Another Day."

by Jessie

Fandom: XFiles

Rating: R-for bad language and some sexual themes. No actual sex scenes though. ::thinks for a moment:: Wait, will telling readers there's no sex scenes with Krycek decrease the amount of people who'll want to read this? ::pauses:: Did I say there's no sex scenes? I meant that there's TONS of sex. Raw, hot, wild kinky sex between Krycek/Scully and or Mulder! All sex all the
time! LOL ;)

Plot: What does Krycek do on a normal day when he's not killing people and selling government secrets? Okay, so this isn't exactly a "normal" day for our Alex Krycek. Is there anything that can bring out the caring, human being that hides deep (WAY DEEP DOWN) in Krycek? Howabout man's best friend? Woof!

Genre: I'd say humor, but it does get serious, perhaps a little sad. But mostly humor. Which I think we all need a great deal of these days. I know I do! So I'm going to take a break from the whole angst/death scene for a while and try to write some enlightening stuff. =)

Comments: This takes place when Krycek has both arms and is still working for the CSM. The exact time is unknown...even to me, lol. And Krycek is still kind of young in here, so he's not as "hard" as he is in later seasons. The man still has some emotion, in other words.

Alright, I'll stop talking so you can read the story. =)
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"Just Another Day"
Written by Jessie <:3( )~~~~~


Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

I reach over and fumble lazily to turn off my alarm clock, knocking it on the floor in the process. It's still beeping, so I pull the plug out of the wall with a sigh. If it's one sound I despise most, it's that damn beeping that wakes me up every morning. Especially at 5:30 A.M. on a Saturday.

I swing my legs out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom, yawning as I do so. I have a slight hangover from the night before, and the distinct smell of liquor lingers in my apartment. Sometimes I drink too much, but it's not like I have to answer to anyone about it. No nagging wife or kids to look after, so why the hell shouldn't I drink?

If you screw up on one of your "errands" because you're drunk, you're as good as dead, idiot.

Yeah, I guess that's why. It's not like I'm an alcoholic or anything, but lately I have been drinking a lot. I guess it's just an attempt to not think about things. Emotions, mainly. Because if you think too much in this business, than you're not right for the job.

I strip of my underwear and step into the shower, the hot water feeling good on my body. Than the phone rings.

Shit.

I know who it is, so I get out of my warm, relaxing shower to answer the damn thing.

"Hello." Why do I even bother saying that?

"Alex, you're assignment has been called off for today." He pauses and takes a long drag of his cigarette. I wonder how black and crispy his lungs are by now.

"So in other words, I don't have to go shoot some guy in the back of the head like you wanted me to."

"Alex, you'd better be certain that this is a secure line." He says tersely.

"Gee, I didn't know you cared about me." My voice drips with sarcasm.

"I don't give a rat's ass what happens to you, but if our work is at stake because of your foolishness, than you'll find yourself with a bullet in the back of YOUR skull. Is that a clear?" He says harshly, his sense of humor obviously lacking a bit.

"You need a vacation." I try not to laugh until I hear the black lunged son-of-a-bitch hang up.

I hate that man with a passion. But right now, working for him is working out for me, so it's my only option. Believe me though, one of these days I'm not going to be taking orders from that asshole.

"You have no rights. Only orders to be carried out."

We'll see about that, you bastard.

See, that's why I drink. To not think about things that bother me.

After hanging the phone up, I realized that the shades on my bedroom window are open. I had failed to close them last night, most likely because I was too drunk to remember to. Now, I had also failed to put a towel around my waist while I answered the phone. Two teenager girls were looking up into my second story window and giggling, their arms pointing and hands raised to
their mouths in astonishment.

Oh, for Christ's sake, why are people so nosy? Okay, so I was standing in front of my window naked, but still...

I quickly grab a blanket from my bed and wrap it around my waist, and than go to the window to close my shades. But first, I open it and look down to the two blushing girls.

"See something you like?" I yell down to them.

The girls look to eachother and giggle in irritatingly high pitched voices. I can make out "he's hot" and "I wonder how old he is".

I shake my head and slam the window shut, and trudge back to my shower, leaving wet footprints on the floor along the way.

After getting the smell of beer off myself, I dressed into a pair of black jeans and a dark green t-shirt. It's pretty warm outside, so I reluctantly leave the leather jacket, that has become like a second skin to me, on the kitchen table where I threw it last night. Don't get me wrong-I'm not a slob, like Mulder. My apartment is incredibly neat, but that's most likely because I'm almost never there.

I open the refridgerator and find the only items that a single guy needs to survive: Beer, some cheese, and milk...spoiled milk. Alright, so I had neglected to go shopping for quite some time. Maybe today I'd have to pay a visit to the local supermarket.

Grabbing my keys and wallet, I headed out the door and to my car in the parking lot. When I got into it, I put my sunglasses and started the engine. I almost always wear shades, even when it was only slightly sunny outside. The reason being that everywhere I seem to go, women will tell me "what beautiful eyes" I have, or "I've never seen such green eyes before." After a while, it gets sickening. Why are women so attracted to the tall, dark, and handsome type? The silent one who barely speaks, but just looks good. That must be some sort of turn on for them, I guess. Don't get me wrong, I like being hit on by women. But I just don't have the time-or the need- for a relationship. I'll probably never have a serious one, considering my "work". Getting laid once in a while is good enough for me, of course, I try to stay away from having sex lately. Women always want a commitment. And there's just too many fucking STD's around.

"Are you going to call me?"

"Sure." No, hun, it was just a one night stand. I thought you relaized that considering we met while we were drunk at a corner bar.

Yeah, I'm that kind of guy. I have to be.

Right now, I don't have much of a sex life. I don't think my hand or kinky daydreams of Dana Scully count.

Yeah, that's right, Dana Scully. God, would I like to be the one to melt her icey exterior. I could show her one hell of a good time. A lot better than Mulder ever could.

Of course, that's just assuming they're actually sleeping together. I sort of always wondered if they were, but they're most likely not.

Mulder's only sexual outlet are those disgusting videos of his. And Scully? I would sure like to know how she releases sexual fustration. Hell, I'd like to watch. I thought about tapping her apartment a few times, maybe even installing a few hidden cameras. God knows how simple that would be...but if I would get caught, Spender and/or Mulder would have my head on a plate.

So I'm left just to imagine.

My mind often wanders over to Mulder, as well. I mean, not sexually. Well, unless I'm drunk or extremely tired...than my head conjurs up some pretty interesting thoughts.

You see, there are very few people I have actual feelings for. Real emotions. In fact, I can't think of any except Mulder. And maybe Scully, but just a little. She sort of irritates me...all I really want to do is fuck her.

But Mulder...there's something there. A connection or something. A bond? Yes, I killed his "father", but I still don't believe he truly hates me. Or maybe it's just that I don't want him to...

No, I know he has feelings for me as well. Everytime we meet, he gets this look in his eye. Yes, most of it is rage, but there's something else there. I know it.

When we were "partners", we had hit it off extremely well. When I had to stab him in the back just a little while afterward, I felt...well, I don't know how I felt, but I sure wasn't happy to do it. That was one of the first times in a long while that I felt a true connection with someone. It wasn't bad being his FBI partner for the short time I had been. We made quite team. Far better than he and Ms. Skeptical Scully, in my opinion.

Well, that's over now, so time to stop thinking about it. See what I mean? If you start thinking about things and realizing your feelings, you just can't function in this business. And I'm too deeply involved to quit now. I already made my choices in life.

I continue driving.

It's only 6:43 A.M., so the roads aren't very busy. I decide to take a drive through the park, to ease my mind a bit. It's only a few square miles of forested area, but it's something to get away from the people for a while.

I'm not what you would call a "people person." Sure, I'm can connive, manipulate, and worm my way into their trust easily enough, but that's only if I have to. Otherwise, I tend to avoid them as much as possible.

Anit-social? Perhaps.

"Woof Woof!"

"SHIT!"

Screeeeeeech!

I slammed on my brakes, just in time to save a dog from being road kill. The damn thing had jumped out from the treeline, right in front of the car.

I stopped the car and caught my breath for a moment, cursing under my breath. The dog, which was a rather large, white and reddish brown husky, simply sat in the middle of the road, wagging its tail like an idiot.

I opened the car door and got out, keeping an eyes on the dog as I did so. No one was driving through the park this early, so I didn't have to worry about any cars coming.

"Do you have a death wish or something?" I muttered to the dog, who instantly came bounding over at the sound of my voice.

"No...no, down boy, I'm not a dog person..." But it was too late. The mutt leaped up on my chest, muddy paws making prints on my shirt.

"Thanks. This was a new top." I sighed and gave his head a little pat. Alright, so I like animals a little. I'm not a robot that's totally void of any feelings for all living creatures, ya know. Animals are...they're just nice. They don't talk, which means they can't be idiots like the majority of people.

"So what, are you a runaway? Well, let me tell you, it's a hell of a lot better being free. Just don't go around eating neighborhood cats, or you'll find yourself sitting in the pound." I smirked a little, and scratched behind his ear.

"Sit." I said, and he obediantly obeyed. "So, you're a house dog...no collar though, huh? Well, you better get back home before some car you jump in front of doesn't stop." I head back to my car, feeling foolish for talking to a dog. Of course, they always seem to listen.

I was about to close my car door, when the damned mutt jumps past me and into my seat.

"Oh no, you don't. Out!"

"Woof."

"Get out! I don't want dog hair and shit on my car seats. Out, or I'll tell that nasty Great Dane that lives in the neighborhood to pay you a visit." The husky, seemingly amused by my anger, jumps into the passenger's seat and rolls over on "his" back. I can now see that "he" is actually a "she."

"You're a girl dog. Well, sorry for calling you "boy", but get the hell out of my car." I can't help but laugh at the dog. She's on her back, her tail thumping happily against the window, and her mouth open so that it looks like she's smiling from upside-down.

"Do you expect me to drive you somewhere?"

"Woof."

"I'm letting you out as soon as I get out of the park, is that clear?"

"Woof."

"Move over." I smirk and get into my car, and the husky perks her ears excitedly. At a closer look, I can see that the dog has one brown eye and one blue eye. It's cute in a way, but almost a little creepy looking, if you ask me.

While I drove, she hung her head out the window, her tongue flailing and large ears flapping.

I snickered and shook my head, amused at how happy the dog was. She probably had a good time chasing rabbits the first day she had run away from her house, but after a while she must have realized that she'd much rather be at home, curled up on her owner's couch.

As I drove out of the park, I looked to the dog.

"Well, it's time for you to get out. You probably live around here anyway."

In response, I get a sloppy, wet tongue on the side of my face.

"Gee, thanks. Well, I guess we both have nothing important to do today, so I suppose you can stay a little longer." I used my shirt to wipe the slobber off of my face and started driving again.

Realizing I needed more gas, I pull into a nearby gas station. The dog jumps out of the car and sits by me while I fill up the tank.

"So, are you planning on leaving now? Because you can't stay with me. I don't have the room or time for a dog in my life right now, girl."

"Woof."

"Stay here, I gotta go pay. Or leave, or whatever. Whichever you choose."

As I go to pay, the dog follows me closely.

"Can't you read the sign? No shirt, no shoes, No service. And NO pets allowed."

"Woof."

I walk into the small store with the husky trotting alongside me now.

"Excuse me sir, there's no dogs-" The women behind the counter starts to say, until I take off my sunglasses and look to her. Man, I really do have an intoxicating effect on women.

"Oh...well, I guess it's no big deal." The lady flashes me a flirtatious smile. She's in her mid-twenties, with wavy brown hair and a rather pretty face.

I say nothing, but smile back in response. I head back to tthe coolers to get myself a soda, and than realize that the dog is probably hungry. I mean, I don't really give a damn, but since I've already given her a ride in my car I might as well feed the thing too.

"Hungry?"

"Woof."

There's no dog food in the filling station, so I grab a few beef jerky sticks and a bottled water, because giving the dog spicy food without water would just be cruel.

The cashier smiles and flutters her eyelashes a bit.

"Have a nice day sir." Big smile.

"Thanks." God, could you be any friendlier, lady?

The two of us get back into the car and I open a beef stick for the dog, who gobbles it up in only three bites.

"That's not very lady-like." I grin and open the bottled water, and squirt some on her nose. She gives a playful whine and licks her muzzle.

"Here, your lack of hands might be a problem, so let me help you." I spray some of the water into her mouth and she drinks it up happily.

I start driving again, and this time the dog is in the backseat, with her head resting contently on my shoulder.

As much as I hate to admit it, I'm really starting to take a liking to this damn dog. Which is why I know I should let it out of my car before I start getting even slightly attached.

Yeah, it's just a dog. I know. But this has been the most pleasant contact with a living thing I've had in a long time. As I said before, I don't care for human interaction much, so I find it much more relaxing to be around a dog.

Usually it's just Spender ordering me around and telling me I have no rights. Or me shooting someone I don't even know. Or Mulder...beating the shit out of me.

Don't even get me started on that subject. I could kick Mulder's prissy little ass if I wanted to. I'm not weak, like he thinks I am. And I'm sure as HELL not afraid of him. If Scully ever decided to go postal on me, than maybe I'd get a little scared. Under that cold exterior, I have a feeling little Miss Red Head has quite a few bottled up emotions.

Anyway.

The thing is, I could never bring myself to fight back when Mulder hit me. Maybe it's because I know I deserve it.

I realize that I'm thinking out loud about all of this. Actually, I'm not thinking out loud. I'm talking to the damn dog.

"You don't even understand what I'm saying. But you don't interupt, at least."

"Woof."

"Yeah. Woof. So where are we headed to?" I sigh as I look to the clock on the dashboard. It's almost ten o'clock in the morning.

But I know where I'm headed to. We're nearing Georgetown.

Yes, where Scully lives.

Why in the hell am I going there? Of somebody would see me...

Oh well.

I continue driving for quite a while, and before I know what I'm doing, I'm turning on Dana Scully's street. I can see her apartments up ahead. What am I planning on accomplishing by-

"SHIT!"

Mulder and Scully are standing outside of her apartment building, by a car. What luck I have.

I nonchalantly pull over to the side of the road and park, shutting my car off. They hadn't even seen me pull over, so I doubt they'll look in my direction.

"Down, girl." I say to the dog, who instantly lays down in the backseat of my car.

I'm really beginning to like this mutt.

As I reach over to take out the pair of binoculars I keep in my glove compartment, I notice my door isn't all the way closed. The damn light is flashing on my dashboard, and it's annoying me. I must have not closed it all of the way at the gas station.

I open it up just a crack to shut it tighter, but the dog leaps over the seat and bursts out of the car.

"Get the fuck in here, you stupid dog!!!" I whisper harshly, not wanting Mulder or Scully to see me. But the dog seems to think we're going to get out of the car and walk somewhere, so she just looks back to me and barks.

"Crap." I mutter and duck down in my seat. I lied there for a few moments before peeking out my window.

And what do I see?

The dog is now by Mulder, wagging her tail and letting him pet her on the head. Scully has her arms crossed, but is smiling down at her.

The most childish, immature thought I can conjur pops up in my head.

"That's MY dog." I think to myself.

Get your hands off my dog, you asshole. Mr. I'm-So-Intelligent-Everyone's-Below-Me. Get your stinking paws off my pet.

Yeah, so I said I had "feelings" for Mulder. A "bond". But I still hate him in a way. And than again I don't. It confuses even me.

Maybe it's just envy. He has a life, he has someone he can be close with. Okay, he doesn't have much of a life, but it's more than I'm able to have. I mean, if I was in his position, I'd be going somewhere in the FBI. I wouldn't be wasting my time looking for mutants and little green men. And I'd already have Scully in the sack.

But that's not my life, is it?

Scully reaches down and pets the dog now, and I almost have to smile. I'm surprised The Ice Queen likes dogs at all.

I realize I shoud start the car and get my ass out of there right now.

But for some foolish reason, I sit there and watch the two pet my dog. I mean the dog. Not my dog...

Oh no...Oh noooo....

The husky is now bounding over to my car, barking happily.

Get away get away get away.

Shit.

Without thinking I open up the car and let the dog back inside.

"Your dog? Friendly thing he is." Mulder yells over to me.

Oh fuck. I wave my hand out the window and yell, "Yup. He likes people."

Maybe they don't recognize me with my short haircut and sunglasses. I try to change my voice a bit, but it doesn't really help. Unfortunately, my voice is sort of...unique. It's extrememly recogizeable.

Okay folks, time to go. I start the car, with Mulder and Scully just staring at me. Scully has her hands on her hips now. Mulder has his eyes narrowed.

Ohhhh shhiiiiiiit.

"Mulder..." I can hear Scully say to her partner.

I'm pulling out of my parking spot...please, please don't know it's me...I'm trying to avoid looking toward them...

......

"STOP RIGHT THERE YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Mulder fumbles for his gun and runs toward my car. "KRYCEK STOP YOUR FUCKING CAR! GET OUT OF YOUR CAR!"

"Damn." I breath and squeal my tires. He nearly runs into my car, but I make it by him.

Mulder has the eyes of a damned hawk. Damn him.

"Nice going, you mangy mutt." I mutter to the dog, who licks my ear happily.

"Well, it's my own fucking fault." I sigh as I peel around a corner. My heart is racing and my palms are sweaty.

Are they following me?

Sccccrrrrreeeeeaaaaaaaccccchhhhhh.

Yes. They just did a corner at about 75 miles an hour. Shit.

How in the hell am I going to get out of this?

"Woof."

"You're no help."

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Lol. Feedback appreciated. I'll be writing more soon.

Part 2, ohhh, the suspense. ;P