Shadows of Better Men II: Unveiling
by Te
11/98

Disclaimers: Still not mine, and I'm starting to get used 
to 
the pain.

Spoilers: Not a one.

Summary: Mulder wants to have a chat with Alex about a 
few things.

Ratings Note: R for poor language, and implied m/m 
interaction.

Author's Note: This is a sequel to "Shadows of Better Men." 
I was talking with Dawn Sharon about it, and she wanted 
to know what happened next.

Acknowledgments: To Sister Blue for being the exception to
every single icky rule about humanity. To Dawn Sharon for 
fine and vastly helpful writer's therapy, as well as for 
the inspiration that made this story possible. To Cynthia 
and Rye for fine, thorough beta. All remaining errors are 
my own. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shadows of Better Men II: Unveiling
by Te
Daddy793@aol.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The warehouse was cool, and had the subtle echo of those 
places recently denuded of incriminating evidence. It felt 
like home, though his apartment remained curiously full of 
Alex's scent and presence, passage of weeks or no. Alex's 
shoulder was warm and solid under his hand, and while it 
was right and practical to hold on tight...

Mulder spun Alex around to face him, careful to keep his 
gun aimed squarely at the other man's temple. It hadn't 
been especially difficult to find Alex, surprisingly 
enough. Apparently the man's "business" demanded he stay in 
the 
area.

It would certainly explain the relative frequency of their 
encounters in the few months they'd been... together.

"What the fuck do you want, Mulder?"

"Just explain something to me, Krycek, in case there's a 
next time:  whom exactly did you think you were fucking, 
and why? I like my scripts to be clear."

"There won't be a next time."

"Then satisfy my curiosity. I'm very, very interested in 
your answer."

Alex knocked the gun away and practically spat his words. 
"Get used to disappointment, asshole."

Mulder laughed, and couldn't bring himself to care about 
the darkness in it. "Oh, I am, Alex. I am."

Alex leaned casually against the wall; made no motions 
toward leaving. "So? Why are you here, Mulder?"

Mulder carefully holstered his gun and considered the 
question. Really, there were a lot of ways to answer, and 
he briefly contemplated giving all of them. After all, 
coming after Alex had already done more than he'd ever 
believed possible to crush out the last dying whimpers of 
pride. 

"I want to know."

"You want this, you want that. Did it ever occur to you 
that what you want is meaningless?"

"Are you even talking to me at all?"

"Yeah, I think I am. You're used to being the damned 
victim, Mulder. And yet it never fucking stops you from 
lashing out. Or maybe it's the reason why --"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Do you honestly believe you 
have a right to be the hurt one here? What fucking planet 
do you *live* on, Alex?"

Alex didn't speak, though his eyes burned in that way 
Mulder had come to believe meant he wished to. Perhaps it 
*was* unfair to put Alex in a position where in order to 
win an argument he had to, Lord protect us, talk about his 
feelings, but Mulder just didn't give a damn.

"How 'bout it, *Alex*? Tell me how I hurt you. What ever 
did I do to break your fragile little heart?"

Alex snorted. "You give yourself an awful lot of credit for 
someone who'd stalk me just to have a fucking *lover's 
spat*."

"Ah, but that's just it. We were never lovers at all. I 
thought we were--"

"No one pays you to think."

"Fuck you, Alex. You can't have it both ways. Were we 
lovers or not?"

"I'm not the one who suggested I find myself another 
whore."
 
"No, you weren't. And I'm not the one who decided that the 
best way to handle an imperfect relationship was to "fix" 
the other person."

"No? I have to admit, I never got tired of your lovely 
little passive-aggressive moues of disapproval each time I 
left."

Mulder managed to restrain the urge to roll his eyes. 
"Forgive me, but I find it hard to believe that you were 
just going on bagel runs."

Alex pushed off the wall with one booted heel and stepped
closer, raking Mulder from toe to head in an ostentatious 
display of contempt. 

"And if I wasn't?"

"How could you even *fantasize* that I'd react well to your 
'day job?'"

"Gee, I dunno, Mulder, maybe it was the 'Oh, God, Alex 
fuck me please--'"

"Just because I want your cock doesn't mean I have to 
approve of what the rest of you does."

"And just because I like your ass is no reason to assume 
that I get off on abuse."

"You wouldn't know abuse if I punched you in the face."

"And here we go. Newsflash, Mulder: That was always your 
favored brand of foreplay."

Mulder waved the last off. "What the fuck do you mean, 'and 
here we go'? Here we go, what?"

Alex pulled back and seemed to be taking his measure by 
his gaze. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm slow. Enlighten me."

Alex's mouth tightened, and he somehow gave the impression
of pulling back further still, though his body never moved 
from Mulder's space.

"You really find it hard to believe that anyone ever 
suffered like you, don't you? Oh, you pride yourself on 
wringing your hands at the fate of others, but it's all 
just victim's ego, isn't that right?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Let me put it another way. 'Oh, of course I know your 
pain. I've lost someone dear to me too. Of course, the 
circumstances were far, far different -- kindly interpret 
that as *worse* -- but still, I feel your pain.' Does that 
sound familiar?"

"You sonofabitch."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one who wanted to have this little 
talk, now am I?"

Mulder shook his head in disbelief, and Alex turned to walk 
away.

"You honestly can't see yourself in that at all, can you?"

Alex paused at the door, and the oddity of only being able 
to see one fist clench and unclench struck Mulder for a 
moment. Was this where he was supposed to think about all 
Alex had suffered, and so excuse him? The idea had its 
temptations, but this was neither the time nor the place 
for granting quarter. 

"You can't, can you?"

"You want to point out my faults, go ahead. I'm listening."

"How noble of you."

"Do it or don't, fucker. I don't have time for your 
oh-so-entertaining sudden realizations about my character."

"Look at me."

Alex cocked his head for a moment, and Mulder could see the
sarcastically quizzical expression on his face long before 
he turned. 

"I'm looking."

Mulder was abruptly unsure what his reasons had been for
the request. He feared it had far too much to do with a 
last-ditch desire to have Alex crumble at his expression. 
Some cinematic moment of realization and forgiveness, 
perhaps followed by a tearful kiss. Alex, as could only be 
expected, didn't seem to share his enthusiasm for the idea.

"You... you tried to *change* me, Alex. And when it didn't 
work the way you wanted it to, you walked out. Just 
like --" Mulder cut himself off ruthlessly and tried to 
regroup. "Does it bother you in the least? Have you ever 
woken up to find out you weren't the one being ma -- being 
fucked at all?"

Alex didn't respond at first, and the silence stretched 
uneasily. Mulder briefly reconsidered the simplicity of 
physical violence.

"So what does this have to do with your massive case of 
victim's ego?"

Mulder threw his hands in the air, but the wish to believe 
Alex was just striking out was too powerful to ignore.

"You want to play that way? Fine. Let's just try to 
remember I'm not the only one with rules, shall we?" 

"Answer the question or let me leave, Mulder."

"Let you..." The thought was incomprehensible and Mulder 
shook himself out of it. "You say I'm utterly immune to the 
idea that people can hurt. Well, isn't that what you 
wanted? Never mind, don't bother to answer. Just tell me 
how that's so different from you getting pissed at me for 
reacting badly to your subtle brand of personality 
readjustment."

Alex's eyes narrowed, and the effect was somehow a lot 
more... vivid... than any of the winces and cries when he'd 
just hit the man. There was satisfaction to that, and far 
too much sadness. 

"It's because you see me as flawed, right? You were just 
trying to make me *better*, and how dare I strike out at 
you for that? You were trying to do right by me."

The other man's gaze went distant, and he seemed to be 
arguing with himself about something. 

"I don't know, Alex... I think my component parts are just 
a little too used for that sort of thing. You need... you 
need to start fresh." The gentleness in his own voice was 
not enough of a surprise.

Alex shook his head fiercely, and began to pace. Mulder 
wondered if anything else needed to be said at all. 

"I don't know... I don't know why I ever thought it would 
be a good idea to fuck around with someone like you."

Mulder couldn't hold back a wince, but Alex wasn't looking 
at him. 

"This... we... Christ, you make it sound like I was trying 
to Build the Better Lover, Mulder."

"Weren't you?"

Alex stopped his pace with a harsh whispering scrape of 
bootheels on dusty concrete, turned to look at him with a 
strengthening ghost of a wry grin. "Weren't we both?" 

It was as much of an admission or apology as Mulder was 
ever likely to get out of the other man, and the whisper of 
"I'll take it" in his mind was both shameful and 
inescapable. 

"I never wanted... I wanted *you*, Alex. I didn't mean what 
I said. It's not... it was never just the sex."

Mulder watched the humor die on Alex's face, and tried to 
make himself believe that some good could come of this 
understanding.

"I don't know if it was just the idea of having someone... 
someone enough like me that I could... could just fucking 
*relax* or not."

"I know." 

"Shit."

Mulder laughed, smiled. Wondered when he'd ever gotten to 
be the tragic hero. It was stupid, it was cliched and 
painful. And it was too much like fate. "Yeah, my thoughts 
exactly."

Alex looked as though he wanted to comfort him, and Mulder 
made a conscious effort to pull himself up straighter, 
tighten his expression.

"So... so what is this, Mulder? What am I supposed to do 
now?"

You wanted to leave, so get the fuck out of here. "I don't 
have a fucking clue."

Mulder shook himself one last time, and started to walk to 
the door. He felt himself pause as he passed Alex, perhaps 
for a kiss, but then realized his feet were still moving. 
He felt Alex's eyes on his back, but did not turn to see if 
that, too, was an illusion.

~~~~
End.
~~~~

"You bought a mask, I put it on
You never thought to ask me
If I wear it when you're gone..."