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TITLE: Captivation
AUTHOR: Kelly Keil
ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just keep my info attached.
FEEDBACK: Is welcomed, read, and answered.
SPOILERS: Nothing pertinent.
CLASSIFICATION: V, A, M/Sc/K, Krycek POV, slash
DISCLAIMER: The X-Files belongs to you know who. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own sick fun.
SUMMARY: "This was a secret world shared by the three of us, a secret layer that no one else knew about, and I didn't want it to end."
ACKNOWLEGEMENTS: Thanks to my lovely betas: CazQ, who pointed out gaffs both big and small, to M. Sebasky for making me justify myself, and Cofax for the you-know-what. I'll admit it, you were right. Also to Token, who laughed in the wrong places and thus let me know what needed to be cut and what could stay.
NOTES: At the end

By Kelly Keil

When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
                   --William Shakespeare

The call came at night, waking me from a sound sleep.

"I want to set up a meeting."

My heart beat faster in my chest despite my efforts to remain calm and in control. "When?"

"Now. The sooner the better."

I looked at the clock. It read just past midnight. Irritation at being woken up bled through my attempt to keep my voice neutral. "How do you know I can just drop whatever I'm doing to meet with you?"

"Do you really want me to hang up this phone, Krycek? If I do, I won't call again. You know that."

My palms began to sweat. I was nervous that I'd fucked the whole thing up, and my stomach lurched, but I was determined not to let this show in my voice. "Yeah, okay, I'll meet you," I said. My tone was even. Good. "Where?"

"Third level of the parking garage on W. 23rd. You know the one I'm talking about?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Come alone." Then the voice was gone and I was left with dial tone humming in my ear.

Come alone. Don't I always? I swung my legs out of bed, and got dressed, choosing what I wore carefully.

I stepped out of my car on the third level of the parking garage and looked around. I saw him first. He had a serious expression on his face -- he always has a serious expression on his face, as far as I can tell, even when he laughs.

I walked over to him, wondering if he was alone, thinking that she must be around somewhere, running the show as always. When I felt cold metal press into my back, right at the base of my spine, I knew I had been right. It was a familiar sensation, a little too familiar, actually, but I've learned that there are certain rituals that have to be observed. Circumspect meetings in dark parking garages lead to guns pressed against someone's flesh. This time it was mine. Next time it wouldn't be.

I fixed a charming smile on my face. "Hi, Mulder," I said. "As always, it's a pleasure to see you."

The gun poked insistently at my back. "And you, too, Scully," I said, not wanting to leave her out.

Mulder looked almost apologetic. It was a good look for him. Even my stony heart wanted to melt. I suspect he knows that it is a good look for him, which is why he wears it so often. His other look, and he likes this one almost as well, is his pissed-off intense look. I'm not as fond of this one because I usually see it right before getting my face slammed into a wall. I find it off-putting, to tell you the truth.

I licked my lips. My mouth felt dry. "I don't suppose either one of you would care to clue me in," I said, the words coming out of my mouth by rote.

Mulder smiled at me, that slow, sad smile that I'd bet he practiced in front of a mirror before going to bed at night. "I don't think so," he said. "You know how it is."

I felt air on the skin of my back as Scully lifted my shirt up. I felt the gun lifted away, but before I could move, I felt another sensation replace it --the prick of a needle.

"Sweet dreams," I heard Scully say.

With the haze of the drug flooding my system, the words seemed to be almost a caress.

I am sad to say that waking from a drug-induced sleep is not something new for me. I've learned from hard experience to lie still and just be for a while. Any sudden movements can make you puke. Before vomiting, it's always a good idea to figure out if you're gagged first. Trust me on this.

I wasn't gagged, for which I was profoundly grateful. I really fucking hate gags.

My prosthesis was gone, though. Big surprise there. I hate being without it almost as much as I hate gags, but then they knew that, didn't they? I tried to move slowly, testing each limb one at a time. I was lying on a bed, I thought, my legs free, my right arm handcuffed to something. I rotated my wrist experimentally in the cuff. I'd been left enough slack to be able to move my wrist freely, but not enough to be able to wriggle out of the restraint. This was Mulder's work, I was sure. Scully would have made it tight enough to cut off my circulation.

Inventory over, I opened my eyes. The room swam and I quickly closed them again. Wonderful. I could hear water running somewhere nearby, probably in a bathroom. I was in a hotel room and it sure as hell wasn't a Holiday Inn complete with pool, Jacuzzi, game room, and gym. Even Motel 6 would have been a step up.

Seedy hotel room. My favorite.

I felt the bed I was lying on shift under me. I didn't need to open my eyes to know it was Scully. I could smell her. That odd mixture of perfume and formaldehyde is hard to mistake.

She began to undress me with clinical efficiency, as if I were just another cadaver for her to dissect. "What are you --" I began but she cut me off.

"Shut up, Krycek," she said. "I don't want to hear it." The words were a lash of impatience. "I told Mulder I wouldn't hurt you. Don't make me go back on my word."

Christ, the woman does not mince words. I ventured to open my eyes again and found her face hovering above mine. Her eyes were glittering -- with excitement or malice I couldn't decide.

"I want to know --" I tried again.

My mother always told me that I never knew when to shut up.

Scully leaned down and took my lower lip between her teeth. She bit down almost to the point of drawing blood. I made a noise in the back of my throat and she bit down the tiniest bit harder. I choked off the sound. She released my lip, and then her tongue flicked out to smooth over it. She leaned back with a small sigh.

"Now shut up," she said, "and let me do my job."

My lip throbbed and I sucked at it, hoping to relieve the pain. I could taste her on my mouth. Already I wanted her, and how fucked up was that? Some things don't bear too close an examination.

I heard the water being shut off in the bathroom. Scully had removed my shoes, socks, and pants, leaving me in my underwear and the t-shirt she was busy cutting off of me with surgical precision. Always wear clean underwear. You never know when someone might abduct you and strip you down to your skivvies. There's a moral in there somewhere.

There was no need to for her to cut off my shirt, of course. They could have removed it when I was out cold, as they had removed my jacket. Hell, they could have left me in it. This is part of the game, part of Scully's rules. She cut off my shirt because she knew that later, after they'd released me, I'd have to go home shirtless. Scully is a practical woman, and likes her lessons to be concrete.

I heard floorboards creak and I turned my head to look toward the sound. My head was clearing and I didn't feel as dizzy when I moved my head. I saw it was Mulder, and he was naked. I felt my body react involuntarily. If I had been half aroused by the taste of Scully on my lips, I was fully aroused now. Even with my underwear on, neither could fail to see my erection.

I was theirs, and they knew it.

Mulder's eyes went to my crotch, and then moved up to my mouth. I felt his gaze on mine and stopped sucking on my injured lip. My heart pounded. I wondered what they planned to do to me.

Mulder cocked his head to one side and considered me. "Paybacks are a bitch, Krycek," he said. "You of all people should know that."

My eyes went to Scully's face. She glowered at me.

Scully finished with my shirt and tossed it aside. She got off the bed and began to undress, talking as she removed each article of clothing, folding it neatly and placing it on a nearby chair. Mulder took his eyes off of me to watch her. I couldn't blame him. It was quite the show.

"I want you to know what it's like to be held against your will. I want you to chafe against your bonds, Krycek. I want you to know what it's like to bend to someone else's will. I want you to know what it's like to have your fate hang on the whims of another person."

She finished her small speech and stood before me, naked and unashamed. Mulder's eyes devoured her.

I imagine mine did the same, but I was hiding a smile as well. I liked the drama that Scully was instilling into our little romp. It amused me, but more than that, it was sexy as hell. I'd be quaking in my non-existent boots if I weren't so turned on.

I dragged my eyes away from Scully and found Mulder looking at me speculatively. What did he see? Squirming under their combined gaze, I tugged at the restraint on my right arm. I was good and trapped, and knew that I didn't want to be anywhere else but where I was at that moment.

My lip throbbed. My erection throbbed. I wanted them both. God help me.

"Flip him over," I heard Scully say

Mulder rolled me over with ease. It helped that I only had one arm anchored to the bed, and I was grateful for the slack Mulder had left when fastening the manacle to my wrist. I couldn't see either one of them, but I felt their eyes on me. My dick pressed into my stomach and ached.

"Lift his head up."

I hissed in pain as fingers wound into my hair then pulled. My upper body rose off of the bed. The pain caused my eyes to water.

While Mulder held me up in such an undignified way, Scully scooted onto the bed, her back resting against the headboard, her ass on the pillow. Mulder released my hair and my head fell into her lap. I felt the prickle of her pubic hair on my nose and chin. "I want your mouth on me, Krycek," she said, her voice half command and half purr, as if I needed even that much invitation. I buried myself in the smell and taste of her.

As I ate Scully out, I felt Mulder behind me. My hand grasped the spindle of the bed that my handcuff was anchored to when Mulder pulled off my underwear. I knew what was about to happen but still wasn't entirely prepared for it. That isn't to say that I didn't want it to happen. It was his turn, and fair's fair, and more than that, hadn't I dreamed of this? I thought of the first time I'd come inside him, how he'd been so tight, even tighter than Scully, and I'd wondered what it would be like to have our positions reversed. I was about to find out. It was sexual karma, if you will.

I felt something cold and wet being rubbed into my balls and cock. Lube. Thank heaven for small favors, I thought, and then my ass cheeks were being spread wide and more lube was rubbed between them as well. Something was pushed inside me - Mulder's finger, I think -- and I stiffened. I won't lie and say that my ass was virginal, but I was still was a little apprehensive. I remembered Mulder's cries as I'd fucked him. I hadn't known if they were from pain or pleasure, and I hadn't cared. It only mattered that when he came, it was my name he said first, then Scully's.

Mulder had said paybacks were a bitch. I was about to find out how much.

Scully felt me stiffen and yanked on my hair. "No one told you to stop," she said. I renewed my ministrations with increased vigor. I wanted to make her come, to hear her scream out my name. Maybe I was in their control, but I wasn't entirely without weapons.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this," I heard Mulder say as his hands cupped my ass.

Actually, I did have some idea. I've seen him look at me with the same hunger that I see when he looks at Scully. I knew he wanted me right from the beginning, when I was first assigned to be his babysitter while he did everything he could to evade my presence. His desire for me scared him as much as his desire for Scully scared him. Knowing him, the desire scares him yet. I have no doubt that when they started fucking it was Scully who made the first move.

I know that this meeting tonight was her idea. It had been Scully on the phone, after all. Mulder would never have had the balls to think of this on his own. All of this is Scully's brainchild, I am sure of it, even though it was Mulder who had approached me first, had hesitantly said there was something he wanted me to do for him, had handed me the keys to her apartment and told me when arrive.

I knew whose idea it had been when I'd put my hand over Scully's mouth to stop her from screaming. She'd fought me, but not very hard, and when I'd come inside her, her eyes were languid and she'd been dripping wet.

Mulder had watched it all, watched me fuck her, and it wasn't until I'd finished with her that he fucked her, too. The whole thing had been scripted ahead of time, as real as pro-wrestling, and I'd fallen into the story.

Weeks later, I'd found Scully in my apartment, lounging on my couch for all the world as if she owned it. She'd told me what she'd planned for Mulder, and I'd wanted to agree immediately, but something had held me back.

"Why?" I'd asked her. Stupid question, I know, but I still asked it. I hadn't thought to ask it of Mulder, at the time I'd been too surprised. Now things were different, I'd had time to catch my breath and think, and I'd wanted to know what the fuck was going on.

"Does it matter?" she'd asked in return, rising from my couch in one fluid movement. "I want you to fuck Mulder. Isn't that what you've always wanted, isn't that enough?" Her lips ground out the word "fuck," and I had been struck by how surreal it all seemed. I was half convinced it was all a dream that I would wake up from, semen hot and wet on my sheets.

She'd been angry with me, but I'd sensed there was more to it than that, and I'd never known how to leave well enough alone. "No," I'd said. "I need to know or this ends here." I'd been taking a huge risk. I desired everything she was offering me, but I've learned to be wary of getting things that I want.

She'd slumped the tiniest bit, then squared her shoulders and looked me in the eye. "Because it's what he wants," she said, and I'd understood everything, or thought I did.

"He loves you," I'd said, knowing this to be undeniable truth.

"Yes," Scully had said, "but he still wants you." She was martyr, a selfless saint, and I remember thinking that had to be something she'd picked up from Mulder after being his second self for all these years.

I might have believed her, and ended the farce right there -- I have little stomach for self-flagellation that isn't my own -- but I'd remembered how she'd clung to me as I'd come inside her, how she'd kissed first me, then Mulder, and then me again. She hadn't been merely enduring my touch for the sake of her fucked up partner. Oh, no. I refuse to believe that.

She wanted me, too. I wouldn't get a confession of that out of her, not in a million years, but the truth was there, right in front of me.

Still, I'd wondered, "Why me?"

Then she's smiled. "Who else," she'd said, "would understand?"

That had been it for me. I gave no further protest, and when the time came, I'd taken Mulder while she watched me. She'd whispered things in my ear and I'd done them all, and then I'd gone beyond that, falling deeper into the charade, making up my own lines as I went along.

I'd known that fucking Mulder would be good, but I hadn't imagined his kisses, hesitant at first but then assured and finally greedy, would be so sweet. It was the unexpectedness that caught me.

I was held captive, and not just by the handcuffs that secured my arm to the bed. This was a secret world shared by the three of us, a secret layer that no one else knew about, and I didn't want it to end. I wanted it all, wanted them both, and now they had me right where they wanted me.

Mulder's cock entered me from behind, sliding in slowly. It was thick, and felt like it went on forever as it pushed inside me. I held onto the bed, wishing it was Scully or Mulder I was clutching. I wanted to touch either of them with my hand, to feel their skin, both rough and smooth, beneath my fingers. As it was, I felt as if I was just an orifice to them, just a tool to be used.

Mulder began to move inside me, his hands digging into my hips. Trust Mulder to be enough of an asshole not to give a reach around. My cock rubbed along the coarse bedspread and I thought, to hell with touching them, I just want to touch myself. I wondered if this was my torture -- to exist for their pleasure and not receive any of my own. Fuckers.

Only, it was a pleasure tasting Scully. I loved her sighs, given grudgingly, and the thrust of her hips toward my mouth, and her hands in my hair, gripping hard. And Mulder, his hands on my hips and thighs, stroking my skin. Yes, there was pleasure, but I wanted more. I always do.

I clamped my body around Mulder's dick as it pounded into me and was rewarded by a groan from him. Good. I wasn't going to let them use me like I was just a mindless toy for their sick little games. I was going to be a full participant in those sick little games, damn it.

Scully's hips began bucking beneath my mouth, then her legs became rigid and she started to pull away from me. I held onto her clit with my lips and teeth, not letting her escape from the intensity of her climax. She pushed at my head when the sensitivity became too much, but I held onto her as long as I could. She won the struggle, as I knew she would -- I good and trussed -- but I had the pleasure of eliciting a squeal from her lips.

I made Dana Scully squeal. Score one for Alex Krycek. I didn't hear my name falling from her lips, but I was willing to take what I could get.

Scully moved off to the side to watch Mulder as he finished with me. I heard her breathing heavily as Mulder leaned forward to bite my shoulder. "So good," I heard him say into my neck. "Ah, God, yes, so fucking good." His mouth went to my neck and sucked at the skin there. Suddenly, it was too much and I came. I felt warm wetness on my stomach and the bedspread.

Mulder's rhythm sped up and he gave a hoarse cry as he came into me. He became rigid, holding onto my hips tightly, and then he collapsed onto the bed next to me, with Scully next to him.

"Oh, God," I heard him say. He sounded winded.

I looked at him and saw Scully rise above him. She kissed Mulder deeply. Were they done with me then? It seemed like it might be the case.

Irritation filled me. They'd abducted me, threatened me, and fucked me. And not only did Mulder neglect to jerk me off, as any decent person would have, but I was now lying in the wet spot.

Was there no end to the indignity?

I think I dozed, but I don't think it was very long. When I woke, I felt an odd sort of deja vu. I was lying on my back again, and I could hear water running in another room. Had it all been a dream brought on my whatever drug Scully had pushed into my system?

Then I realized I was naked, and I was still lying in the wet spot. This was no dream.

Scully leaned over me and I saw that an orgasm had only put a slight dent in her intensity. I wasn't afraid of what she'd do to me, exactly, but I'd be a liar if I said that I wasn't a little afraid of *her.*

Scully is a mystery to me. What is she getting out of our little menage a trois other than physical pleasure? I don't know, and I'm not sure I'd like the answer if I ever learn it. There are layers to her, mysterious layers deeper than the ones I've penetrated, deeper even than the ones that Mulder has peeled away, that have yet to be fathomed.

"No one knows we've brought you here," she said, her finger tracing obscure patterns on my chest.

"I know," I said.

"We could leave you here, when we're done with you." She bent her head and took one of my nipples into her mouth.

"I know," I said, and heard a hitch in my voice.

She lifted her head after a moment. "You'd be found, eventually, but after how long?" She licked a long stripe from my navel to chin.

"I don't know," I whispered.

"Have you considered that? What it would be like to be found, naked, cuffed to this bed?" Her hand cupped my balls, squeezed them gently, then released them.

"No," I said, but it was a lie. I had thought about it. I pictured Rosella from housekeeping barging into the room, a shocked look spreading across her face. I pictured the cops being called to open the cuffs. I could hear the stories now, passed between coworkers and lovers and friends and neighbors. 'Did you hear about the gimp they found, handcuffed to a bed, bare ass naked? Someone left him there, can you believe it? Beat him upside the head with his own prosthetic arm and left him for dead. So sad. But so goddamned funny.' Oh yes. I'd thought about it.

"It's what you deserve," she said, her voice serious.

"I know," I said, looking into her eyes, believing it, believing her.

"But not yet," she said. "I don't think we're done with you quite yet."

And my heart leapt, goddamn it.

She leaned down and kissed me, deeply, as she had earlier kissed Mulder. I kissed her back, wanting to bury my fingers in her hair and drag her head closer to mine. Her hand trailed down my body, ending up on my cock. Her hand encircled me, stroking me, making me hard again. I groaned, unable to help making the sound.

Her lips left mine, and moments later I felt them on my cock. I jerked upward and was stopped by the manacle on my wrist. She took all of me into her mouth, her seemingly tiny mouth. It was fucking bliss.

Then Mulder entered the room. I wondered if Scully would stop but thankfully she didn't. Mulder sat down on the bed beside me. His hand went behind my head to cup my neck, and then he was kissing me, those sweet, greedy kisses that I remembered.

I sighed as his tongue entered my mouth. What a pair, they were, each of them with their mouths on me. It was too good. It almost made up for leaving me lying in my own semen.

Scully stopped sucking me off and I whimpered into Mulder's mouth. I felt her body draped along mine as she reached for something I couldn't see on the bedside table. I was somewhat curious, but more interested in Mulder's hot mouth and the soft weight of Scully's breasts on my chest. She moved back, and I heard something rustle, and I knew what it was. I felt Scully smooth the condom over my cock, and while I knew why she was doing it, I nevertheless felt both shame and anger. She didn't trust me, had no reason to trust me, but that didn't mean that I had to like it.

Even so, I didn't protest as her body slid, wet and tight, down onto my cock. My hips rose to meet hers and my lips clung to Mulder's. She quickly came and I felt the tiny convulsions of her body. She slipped off of me, leaving my body still hard and needy.

I let out a groan of protest and heard Mulder laugh as he kissed me.

"It's my turn," he said. "Now you get to watch."

I could still feel the phantom pressure of Mulder's lips on mine as I saw him use those same lips on Scully's mouth, neck, and breasts. I again cursed the handcuffs that chained me to the bed. Watching them together was voyeuristic torture.

Mulder's hand reached between Scully's legs and but she pushed it away. "Just fuck me," she said, her voice urgent.

He did as she ordered, sliding into her body with the grace of long practice. No condom needed for him, of course, because he was Mulder. He could touch her sacred body with impunity while I could not. This was also part of Scully's rules, and if I wanted to keep playing this game, I needed to understand that.

I still didn't like it.

Scully's hands went to the headboard and she clung to it as Mulder fucked her. At first she screwed her eyes up tight, then she opened them and turned her head to look at me. I saw as yet another orgasm hit her. Her eyes glazed a little and her mouth hung slack. She was free in those few moments, and more herself than at any other time, I think. I felt I was looking into her soul. It wasn't a comfortable sight. What I saw in her eyes was wild, primeval, and it took my breath away.

Meanwhile, my cock throbbed and ached.

Scully pushed at Mulder. "Stop," she said. "I want him again."

"What?" asked Mulder, mindless now with all his blood in his dick.

"Krycek," she said, and managed to push Mulder off of her.

She mounted me again, and I smiled at the look of loss on Mulder's face. He looked like a little boy whose treat had been taken away. It was so fucking comical, I laughed out loud.

"Don't pout, Mulder," said I said as Scully rocked her body on top of mine. "You could always join us."

I saw a smile form on Mulder's face and knew I was in for it then. I didn't care. They weren't ignoring me now, and I wanted it all, wanted them both.

Mulder pushed my legs up and apart. His cock, still wet from Scully's body, slid easily into me. This time he fucked me slowly, as did Scully, their bodies moving together with a sensuous grace. Scully leaned back onto Mulder and he bent his head to run his mouth along her neck. They were beautiful, and for that moment, both belonged to me.

It didn't take long before I came into Scully, calling out both their names, loving both of them, and berating myself for loving them, and loving them anyway.

That doesn't mean I wouldn't hesitate to kill either one of them if I had to. I wouldn't hesitate a second. Neither would Scully, if it comes to that. Only Mulder, of the three of us, would hesitate. But only for a minute or two, I think. I know he would still kill me.

This is one of the reasons why I love them.

We woke as dawn stained the sky orange and red. Scully rose first and drew back the curtains, filling the room with pale sunlight. She was silent, as is her habit. I watched as Mulder opened his eyes. First there was disorientation, then only emptiness. The morning after is always difficult to deal with, but we never think of that in the passion of the night.

They waited until the last possible moment to unlock the handcuffs, give me back my prosthesis and my clothing, and allow me to shower. I think part of Scully wanted to leave me there to be found. If this game continues, I wonder how far she will take it. I confess I am eager to find out.

It is Scully's turn next, and she knows it. Her heart will beat faster with each late night phone call, each creak she hears in her apartment. Or at least that's what I like to think.

Before we all went our separate ways, I caught Mulder's eye and he smiled at me. That time it was real, and not something he had perfected over time. It was a smile of anticipation.

Our game of captor and captive moves on. Tag, Scully, you're it. And paybacks, my dear, are a bitch.


AUTHOR'S NOTES: I wrote this in an afternoon after being influenced by a lively discussion of slash on Glass Onion. This is my first slash, and it was way more fun to write that I would have previously thought.

I've been told by people who know such things that this story is something of the Anti-Prone. If you've never read Prone by Sarah Ellen Parsons, I recommend you do so. It is, in my opinion, the story by which all of this genre should be measured.

Tell me what you thought. I can be reached at

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