Title: Two Triangles Crossing

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek, (implied Scully/Doggett)

Rating: G

Warnings: Implied slash, implied het

Summary: He must have missed the memo.

Author's Notes: An AU derivation from S8 with certain incidents snatched non-chronologically from s9. First instalment of Geometry series.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to CC, 1013 and FOX, except for Alex Krycek, who went to Mulder-heaven after CC so cruelly offed him, and Mulder who has always belonged to Alex.

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Yet again, there they are, shaded by a rough-barked oak tree, waiting for their informant to appear. The chilly mist slithers under John’s collar, dampening his clothes as well as his mood. Mulder, instead, doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by their surroundings. He hasn’t said a word to John since they left their car on a deserted dirt road a couple of yards away, but his eyes are fixed intently on the line of trees that stands against the moonlight like a band of straight-backed giant soldiers. John shuffles his feet and rubs his hands together. Finally, they discern a shorter dark silhouette that detaches from the others and moves across the patch of grass towards them. The figure doesn’t stop until it is only about a foot apart from Mulder.

“Krycek,” Mulder sounds hoarse, but he doesn’t cough to clear his voice.

“Do you have any new information on the cult?” John asks, exhaling a puff of steam.

“The group that was burned in South Dakota was one faction out of three. They still have hopes of locating another alien craft and him.” Krycek doesn’t turn his head towards John as he replies. John doesn’t really mind. Krycek has an unpredictable, predatory aura in him that John finds most disconcerting, and John has never been a man to cower. The indefinable glow seems to condense in his liquid eyes that now gleam in the twilight as enchanting and endearing as a cobra’s. Mulder’s gaze is locked with Alex’s. They could be two boxers in a pre-fight staring contest if it wasn’t for the complete lack of menacing body language. On the contrary, their stands are a mirror image of each other; both have their right hand tugged in the pocket, Mulder in his leather jacket and Krycek in a long woollen overcoat. Their bodies are alert but not guarded, emanating a static energy that makes John wish he had a whistle so he could call a time-out on the ever-thickening electric atmosphere.

“Give me what you got,” Mulder says, breaking the silence, and John draws in the breath he’d been holding. Krycek pulls out a large envelope from under the lapels of his coat, his movements tranquil and coordinated. Mulder seizes the data without verifying it or even glancing down. Absent-mindedly, John notices –as he hasn’t much else to do in these late encounters but to memorize details– that Krycek doesn’t wear a glove on his real hand. Frankly, John would prefer staying home in bed to participating in some bizarre nocturnal ritual, but Dana insists he accompanies Mulder, no matter how many times John reports back to her that Krycek never behaves in any way that could be interpreted as threatening towards Mulder. ‘You are the only one I can trust’, she says. ‘With Mulder’s life’ is the part unsaid. It is a great honour from her, John knows. And John truly wishes he were worthy of it, but he was involuntarily tied up in a secret that needed to be kept from her.

“He is doing fine. He’s healthy and growing normally. I included his latest medical records in there,” Krycek says, nodding at the envelope, and looking as if he was talking straight to Mulder’s mouth. He spins gracefully around in an attempt to leave, but Mulder, who hasn’t budged from his spot for the whole time, suddenly bursts into action, crossing the distance, and grasping Krycek by the hand.

“Alex, bring me a picture of him next time.” It is an order, not a plea or a question, but the tone is that of a soft, child-like confidence. John thinks he is imagining as he sees Mulder’s fingers entwining with Krycek’s, but he blinks, and the two of them are still touching. Krycek gazes down and then slowly back up at Mulder. They are now standing even closer than when Krycek arrived. There is a space of just a few inches between their noses, and for a moment, John is certain Mulder will lean over, as his whole body reminds John of an agile willow bending over a river. When Krycek turns to leave again it looks as if his cheek brushed against Mulder’s chin before he melts back into the shadows. They drive back to the city in silence. All the tension and jittering that was present in Mulder on their way to the rendez-vous has now completely dissolved from him. He is focused on the road, driving fast but carefully, humming quietly in tune with the oldies radio station.

The next morning at work John takes coffee to her, sugar and milk, the way she likes to drink it. Dana smiles at him and at the offered mug, and he feels like he’s the luckiest man in the world just to sit down next to her in a cluttered basement office. Today, instead of relating the events of the previous night, he asks her about Krycek. She tells John about his ties to the consortium and his treachery, about her profound distrust of him and both Mulder’s deeply ingrained hate for him and the history they share. How horrified she would be if she found out about this double –or would it be triple as there were three people involved– betrayal of her. He desperately wants tell her about Mulder keeping tabs on William, how her son grows up playing like all the other children, and he wants to plead for forgiveness. Dana must ache to share her sorrow about loosing her child, but she can’t, not as long as the pain still squeezes her heart with a too tight a grip. She knows he understands and that he is waiting on the wings to be there for her the same way she was with him when he dealt with the visions of his son’s death. John prays she will never have to know how Mulder once again has acted behind her back.

There has always been something mysterious about Mulder and Dana that he hasn’t quite been able to pinpoint before, as if he had been missing the keystone at the crown of an arch that held the whole construct of their relationship together. It had to do with the unnecessary complexity of their interaction and all those years spent without taking the next step beyond the partnership, everything that seemed to lack completely with him and Dana once they had gone past the initial wariness. The realization dawns to him though, as he reads through the file Mulder had on Krycek. The folder contains information from the time before The X-files was burnt down, so Mulder must have written it entirely anew afterwards. John pieces the puzzle together like a good detective. The new revelations that flash out from Mulder’s passionate reports merge with John’s own memories of Mulder’s inexplicable actions, Krycek’s involvement of bringing Mulder back from the dead, and how Krycek had aided them to keep Dana safe when William was born.

The situation would have been ridiculous and pathetic already, even if they weren’t fighting against government conspiracies. When Mulder came back, it had been a sad triangle between John, Dana and Mulder, where John withdrew before he got his heart ground to dust instead of just shattered to pieces, but it appeared there had been another, way more tragic triangle going on all along. Inevitably, the two triangles crossed and interloped, turning them into a new, perplexing geometrical shape that has more points and angles than the outline of a daytime drama: John is in love with Dana who loves Mulder but needs John fiercely. Mulder loves Dana but is madly obsessed with Alex. Alex’s fate is to love Mulder without a choice, but it is impossible love.

They are in an impasse, dead end, check mate, caught in a trap, whatever. They should all walk out, but John won’t be the first one, and he suspects that none of them really wants to. He closes the file wondering if Dana would go out on a dinner with him.