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crossoverficTitle: Time Out in Washington (8/18)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fides
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Mulder/Krycek (mostly UST), Mark/Nicholas discussed but whether there is any truth behind the suggestion is open to the reader's interpretation
Fandom: X-Files/Torchwood/Dr Who/The State Within
Rating: NC-17 overall (most parts PG/PG-13, only one part is NC-17 and that part can be skipped with minimum confusion if you want to read the plot but are put off by the idea of graphic sex)
Warnings: Spoilers for The State Within. Some violence and fantasy sexual violence
Disclaimer: None of the recognisable characters are mine, Santa has been really falling down on his job recently, but belong to their respective right holders
Sequal to 1. Plus Ça Change, 2. Hobson's Choice
Prequel to Interlunation
Previous Parts: Part 1 - Prologue -:- Part 2 - Sir Mark -:- Part 3 - Jack -:- Part 4 - Azzam -:- Part 5 - Mulder -:- Part 6 - Skinner -:- Part 7 - Scully
Summary: Finding out Jack's secret in the worst possible way (Hobson's Choice), Alex takes a break from Torchwood Three while he comes to terms with events and his anger towards Jack. To give him the time he needs, Jack arranges a secondment for Alex at the British Embassy in Washington working with the secret service to counter threats to the Ambassador's family. But with Mulder around things don't go to plan and Alex discovers that aliens aren't that easy to leave behind.
Notes: I know that the timelines don't quite fit so I decided to fudge things a little because it was too tempting to compare Torchwood and the Consortium. This story is set concurrent with the early part of X-Files season 6, during the second half of Torchwood season 1, during the time of the 12th Doctor (Doctor Who) and about a year after the events in The State Within. In depth (or indeed any) knowledge of the included fandoms isn't required so please don't let them put you off. Thanks tomoth2fic for the beta. Any and all remaining mistakes are own.
Alex looked up as the door to the interrogation room opened, interrupting Mulder's rant on Alex's moral shortcomings and what sort of end he was destined to meet. Not that Alex necessarily disagreed with Mulder's conclusion that he would meet an abrupt and violent death; he'd worked that out years ago and he hadn't needed Mulder's supposed genius as a profiler to do so. However, being yelled at and threatened never put him in the most co-operative of moods. He just amused himself remembering what Mulder had looked like when he was yelling for a wholly different reason or blanking out the words and focussing on Mulder's mouth and how those plump lips had looked wrapped around his cock. Not exactly highbrow but it passed the time and it was much better than listening to the man futilely repeat himself.
The newcomer into their little farce could have been any one of the anonymous FBI drones that buzzed around the hallowed halls but there was something in the way that Scully tensed that told Alex that something was about to happen. Whoever had just entered was important. She didn't look like much, Irish roots showing in naturally red hair, blue eyes and the associated pale complexion. However, on closer inspection, the error of dismissing her so easily was apparent in her quiet confidence and the sharp gaze with which she took in everything in the room. There was a strength to her that suggested that while she might not live up to the feisty stereotype that her heritage had cursed her with, she was not a pushover either.
Mulder let Scully deal with the interloper. Alex didn't bother to hide his smirk. The FBI obviously had an affirmative action program when it came to small, spunky redheads. If this was the result then, for the sake of the country, Alex heartily approved. He just wanted to know where he could place his bet as the two women spoke quietly but intensely. By the unhappy, stiff look on Scully's face, Alex gathered that she didn't like whatever she was hearing but she seemed to be putting up a spirited defence.
Alex cast a quick glance at Mulder who had been distracted enough that he forgot he was lowering at Alex and kept shooting the women glances instead. Maybe Mulder could be prompted into getting a few stills from the security film for his own use if the dispute got any more heated. Alex could always break in and retrieve them. Alex realised he was obviously looking disreputable again from the disgusted look Mulder shot him. As if Mulder hadn't been thinking exactly the same thing that Alex had. Alex met Mulder's look with an unrepentant challenge of his own. To Alex's great amusement, Mulder looked away, flushing slightly. He really needed to get arrested by the FBI more often, it was almost better than pay-per-view. His expression slipped in to something closer to a smile; he really had been around Owen too long.
Scully beckoned Mulder over and he joined them reluctantly. Alex waited for the explosion. Mulder had never really been one for subtlety when it came to interaction with the bureaucracy. That was what Scully was for. Scully, and Alex during that brief period when he was both Mulder's FBI and Consortium sanctioned partner. To his disappointment the expected disruption failed to happen. Instead the three agents traipsed out of the room, Mulder throwing Alex one last, mistrustful look as he left. Alex thought about waving but decided it was premature, despite Mulder's apparent insecurity as to whether Alex would still be there when he returned or whether he would vanish as soon as Mulder's back was turned; he wasn't out yet. He didn't know if it was courtesy or just good sense that decided that the three agents wouldn't have an argument in front of the prisoner. Although if Alex was reading things right he wouldn't be a prisoner for much longer.
The discussion took enough time that Alex had begun to sweat slightly. Maybe he had been mistaken and the woman was a Consortium plant and didn't have his best interests at heart. Trusting in others to get him out of trouble was something that didn't come easily to him and it made him tetchy. He had lived by betrayal and, while he wasn't religious, he believed that there was a proverb that was unfortunately applicable to his situation. The plans automatically began to shape themselves in his head. If she was Consortium then her first priority would be to find out what he had told them; after that it would depend how badly they wanted him dead and whether they wanted him to suffer first.
Alex closed his eyes and leant back in the hard chair. He'd wanted to visit Bora Bora ever since a random postcard from the place had turned up at the tourist office. Sun, sea, sand and sex on the beach... the thought gave him a goal to keep himself alive for. As if he needed the extra impetus.
The door opening broke him out of his reverie. The red-head led the return, Mulder and Scully trailing at her heals sullenly.
"The devil looks after his own, eh, Krycek?" Mulder commented with bitter humour as he slouched against the wall where Alex would have to pass close by him to leave.
Alex gave his most cherubic smile. Mulder didn't seem happy but that offered him no real clues as to his continued life-expectancy. Mulder had never really learnt to concede with grace, which was unfortunate given the amount of practice he got.
"Mulder," Scully warned him. Alex could have told her not to bother, it wouldn't make any difference, but he figured she knew that.
Mulder shot her a disgruntled look which she met with patience and a flick of her eyes towards their companion. The other woman ignored the exchange.
"Mr. Krycek, I'm Special Agent Blake," she began. "I understand that these agents brought you in unaware of the position you currently hold within the British Embassy and that you did not make them aware of this fact?"
So this was Nicholas' supposed contact. That was an encouraging sign, as was the question. A Consortium plant would be unlikely to bother with such details. Even Skinner wouldn't have, but then he would know Alex wouldn't be about to cause official trouble, not when he could do much worse, and make his point more completely, by causing unofficial trouble. He tried to work out what it meant for Mulder and Scully that Agent Blake appeared to be trying to cover over any irregularities on the parts of the agents as if Alex might bring a complaint.
"That's correct," Alex admitted.
George, and she wasn't anything like Alex would have imagined given the name, Blake waited until it was clear that Alex wasn't going to elaborate.
"Is there any particular reason that you did not make them aware that you had diplomatic immunity?"
Everyone in the room knew it wouldn't have made any difference whatever he'd said but it was a clever fiction and he was willing to play along. He didn't think she was deliberately trying to trap him, just doing her job as she saw it.
Alex gave his most winning smile, "Given the nature of my assignment and the investigation that is being undertaken by law enforcement agencies in both Britain and America, I was told to make contact with you if I was brought in."
It was meaningless but it sounded right and that was all that mattered. George didn't approve of him, Alex could see that, but she didn't have Mulder's crusading zeal for uncovering the truth at any cost, especially when the cost was to fellow agents. He could even have argued with his conscience, should he have had one, that the truth was little more than he had said. If the twisted past he had with Mulder could ever be described as little; what Mulder remembered was certainly small enough. What was, what had been and what might be aside, George would let it, and him, go even though she didn't like it. There was something almost ironical in being in a room with three people, two of whom would shoot him without batting an eyelash if they thought it was necessary, yet neither of them was the person who looked at him with something so close to hate as to be indistinguishable. In that moment, Alex decided he had had enough. Any amusement he had found in the situation was rapidly palling.
He looked George in the eyes, deliberately excluding everyone else in the room from their conversation.
"I spent the whole of yesterday from 6am until late evening with either the British Ambassador, Sir Mark Brydon, members of his staff or his son Azzam Sinclair and his associated security detail. This information can be confirmed through the embassy. If there is nothing else then I have to be getting back."
George nodded slowly. The muted sound of objection echoed behind but he held George's attention. He couldn't tell if she believed him or not, although he suspected she did. She would confirm his story for herself, because she was a good agent, not because she doubted that it would be confirmed.
"Thank you for your co-operation, Mr. Krycek," George said with only the slightest trace of satire, "Shall we?"
She gestured towards the door and its uneven guardians. Alex was only too happy to oblige.
"So, should I call you 'Benedict' now?" Mulder taunted quietly, but not quietly enough, as he passed.
George and Scully gave him almost identical quelling looks but it was George who spoke. "Do I need to remind you again that the British are our allies, Agent Mulder?"
Alex didn't know what had been said when the agents withdrew, but that was either the final confirmation that he had Nicholas to thank for his continued liberty, or the agent was playing a very dangerous double bluff.
"I'm not the one you need to remind. You might want to explain to Mister," Mulder emphasised the honorific in such a way that it was anything but, "Krycek that 'ally' doesn't mean someone you haven't betrayed yet."
In Alex's opinion, Mulder's definition showed a rather naive view of politics but felt that it wasn't the time, or the place, to share his thoughts on the matter. He took a step closer to Mulder, feeling the tension rise in the room as everyone prepared for the worst.
"Don't worry, tovarish," Alex purred, "I know you will be watching my every move."
Mulder flushed, hands fisting.
Alex turned away before Mulder could respond or anyone could intervene. He'd made his point. If Mulder wanted to follow up on his challenge then Alex had a few ideas and Mulder might just end up learning more about himself than he was comfortable with. George gave him a hard look and he followed her obediently, knowing as he trotted at her heals like a puppy that his easy submission was irritating the hell out of Mulder. He suspected that George knew it too from the amused twinkle in her eye that she was doing her best to hide. Mulder must have made his normal good impression.
"Do svidaniya, Fox," he said over his shoulder as he walked out. There was a choking sound from behind him but he refused to look back and see which of them it had come from.
George led him towards the main entrance. It felt strange to stand in the glass portico again. The guards were not the same as the ones he had used to walk past in his days as a junior agent but then he wasn't that man anymore either. Just before the door they stopped, George looking at him seriously. Alex prepared himself for the standard speech and schooled his features into the appropriate expression.
"I hope I am not going to see you again, Mr. Krycek, in a professional capacity. But I doubt that will be the case." Alex nodded insincerely. "I realise that that will likely not be by your choice. I don't think Agent Mulder is going to give up, do you?"
A part of Alex certainly hoped not. Unfortunately, it was a part he tried not to let do his thinking for him.
"Mulder can be a little single-minded on occasion," Alex agreed. "Determination can be an attractive quality in a special agent."
"An interesting turn of phrase." George's gaze sharpened but her tone remained conversational. "I saw the way you were looking at Agent Mulder. The only reason you weren't undressing him with your eyes was because you weren't imagining him in anything to start with. From the way he was blowing hot and cold towards you I'd say you had a pretty good idea of what the view would be like." Alex started to make the expected denial but George held up her hand to stop him. "For all our sakes I'm going to assume that that was long before anything happened that might be seen to compromise his position. He's right - there are things missing from the files, but whoever is covering your butt did a very good job of it and neither he nor I can prove anything. So, answer one question for me..." Alex looked at the woman warily. "Nicholas and Sir Mark?"
The wariness turned to suspicion. Was she honestly asking him if they were the ones who had tinkered with his files. "What about them?"
"Well, are they or aren't they?"
"What?" Alex stared at her in surprise. He could see she thought it was an act.
"Your Mr. Brocklehurst might not be taking out adverts in The Advocate but it isn't exactly a state secret that the most a girl can hope for is a good dinner and intelligent company and the rumours about Sir Mark arrived before he did." That was news to Alex but, thinking over his time at the embassy, it wasn't really a surprise either. Or maybe Torchwood had just broken his surprise response when it came to such things. "Of course," Blake continued, oblivious to his straying thoughts, "no one really paid any attention until a rather nice young Englishman came to stay for the best part of a month for a reason no one at the Embassy was willing to talk about. I know that doesn't mean anything, I don't mean to imply that it does, but watching the two of them work together... there's just something under all that stiff upper lip professionalism."
It was definitely an interesting theory, and an appealing one in many ways (including the aesthetic; Alex wasn't blind or dead). Alex turned it over in his head, comparing it against the nuances of interaction that he had witnessed. Finding the arguments for and against and weighing them against the possible truth. Jane Lavery, whom he had only heard spoke of, against the strange feeling he had got when he had first seen Mark and Nicholas interact. Working with Jack made it very easy to forget the subtleties of hidden sexual interaction. There was just something so uninhibited about his manner that everyone in proximity reacted to, mostly positively. Even Ianto, whose delivery tended towards the deadpan so arid that the dust of his words fell between the cracks in the conversation and was only noticed at a later time, responded in kind.
The rumours were still doing the rounds
At least you look less like a rent boy than the last one
He works for Torchwood
"This young man, are you sure he was English?" Alex asked as one mystery solved itself.
"That was what everyone said," George assured him. "Trust me, this is a city built on gossip and the young man's accent was a hotter topic than the Middle East."
A city of people whose voices were heard throughout the world and they had got their panties in a bunch over a few lilting vowels. Most of them didn't even deal with the foreigners they imported, let alone travel beyond their own borders far enough to sample the rich variety of accents and languages that were the chorus of the world. It was both depressing and typical that a variation on English was both close enough to be unthreatening and different enough to be exotic.
"He couldn't have been Welsh?" He'd been living in Cardiff long enough that the accent was something common to him now. Jack still claimed to get a kick from listening to Ianto talk but Alex suspected that it was a more personal than general thing.
"Could have been. There's a difference?"
Alex let a smile grow on his face, the one that was gently amused at other people's foibles and invited his audience to join him in that feeling.
"So he assures me. He's a colleague of mine." He owed Nicholas one. "Came over here after his girlfriend was killed." He let George draw her own conclusions.
"Damn," she said quietly. Shrugging, she smiled ruefully. "Well, there goes a favourite theory."
"On the basis of that evidence, I'd have to agree with you."
Because it was all about what you could prove, wasn't it? And there would no more be any proof that Mark and Nicholas were anything more than work colleagues than there would about his work for the Consortium.
Blake looked at him shrewdly. "Is there other evidence?"
That was always the question: had you left any trace? People might know, or believe they knew, but if you hadn't even left your fingerprints in the air then it hadn't happened. Unless you were one of the people it hadn't happened to.
"When I worked here with Agent Mulder I was taught three things," Alex told her. "The first was how to fill in paperwork and the second was the impossibility of proving a negative."
She would understand that and he had no better answer for her. Even if he knew what she was asking then he wouldn't have told her and she would have been a fool to believe him. George Blake might have been many things but Alex did not think a fool was one of them.
"What was the third?" George asked curiously.
Alex's smile melted from his face. Meeting her eyes he told her honestly, "Deny everything."
"I can see why you and Nicholas get along," she said dryly. "Okay, Mr. Krycek, let's get you back to the Embassy before I start getting irate calls from the Ambassador."
She put out her hand for him to shake and he did.
"Thank you, Special Agent Blake." Alex found he actually meant the worn out pleasantry.
"Oh and Krycek." There was no hostility in her face and Alex thought he was growing on her. "Tell Brocklehurst he owes me a good dinner. Again."
With that she turned and walked back into the depths of the building.
Next Part...
Author:
fidesPairing: Jack/Ianto, Mulder/Krycek (mostly UST), Mark/Nicholas discussed but whether there is any truth behind the suggestion is open to the reader's interpretation
Fandom: X-Files/Torchwood/Dr Who/The State Within
Rating: NC-17 overall (most parts PG/PG-13, only one part is NC-17 and that part can be skipped with minimum confusion if you want to read the plot but are put off by the idea of graphic sex)
Warnings: Spoilers for The State Within. Some violence and fantasy sexual violence
Disclaimer: None of the recognisable characters are mine, Santa has been really falling down on his job recently, but belong to their respective right holders
Sequal to 1. Plus Ça Change, 2. Hobson's Choice
Prequel to Interlunation
Previous Parts: Part 1 - Prologue -:- Part 2 - Sir Mark -:- Part 3 - Jack -:- Part 4 - Azzam -:- Part 5 - Mulder -:- Part 6 - Skinner -:- Part 7 - Scully
Summary: Finding out Jack's secret in the worst possible way (Hobson's Choice), Alex takes a break from Torchwood Three while he comes to terms with events and his anger towards Jack. To give him the time he needs, Jack arranges a secondment for Alex at the British Embassy in Washington working with the secret service to counter threats to the Ambassador's family. But with Mulder around things don't go to plan and Alex discovers that aliens aren't that easy to leave behind.
Notes: I know that the timelines don't quite fit so I decided to fudge things a little because it was too tempting to compare Torchwood and the Consortium. This story is set concurrent with the early part of X-Files season 6, during the second half of Torchwood season 1, during the time of the 12th Doctor (Doctor Who) and about a year after the events in The State Within. In depth (or indeed any) knowledge of the included fandoms isn't required so please don't let them put you off. Thanks to
moth2fic for the beta. Any and all remaining mistakes are own.Alex looked up as the door to the interrogation room opened, interrupting Mulder's rant on Alex's moral shortcomings and what sort of end he was destined to meet. Not that Alex necessarily disagreed with Mulder's conclusion that he would meet an abrupt and violent death; he'd worked that out years ago and he hadn't needed Mulder's supposed genius as a profiler to do so. However, being yelled at and threatened never put him in the most co-operative of moods. He just amused himself remembering what Mulder had looked like when he was yelling for a wholly different reason or blanking out the words and focussing on Mulder's mouth and how those plump lips had looked wrapped around his cock. Not exactly highbrow but it passed the time and it was much better than listening to the man futilely repeat himself.
The newcomer into their little farce could have been any one of the anonymous FBI drones that buzzed around the hallowed halls but there was something in the way that Scully tensed that told Alex that something was about to happen. Whoever had just entered was important. She didn't look like much, Irish roots showing in naturally red hair, blue eyes and the associated pale complexion. However, on closer inspection, the error of dismissing her so easily was apparent in her quiet confidence and the sharp gaze with which she took in everything in the room. There was a strength to her that suggested that while she might not live up to the feisty stereotype that her heritage had cursed her with, she was not a pushover either.
Mulder let Scully deal with the interloper. Alex didn't bother to hide his smirk. The FBI obviously had an affirmative action program when it came to small, spunky redheads. If this was the result then, for the sake of the country, Alex heartily approved. He just wanted to know where he could place his bet as the two women spoke quietly but intensely. By the unhappy, stiff look on Scully's face, Alex gathered that she didn't like whatever she was hearing but she seemed to be putting up a spirited defence.
Alex cast a quick glance at Mulder who had been distracted enough that he forgot he was lowering at Alex and kept shooting the women glances instead. Maybe Mulder could be prompted into getting a few stills from the security film for his own use if the dispute got any more heated. Alex could always break in and retrieve them. Alex realised he was obviously looking disreputable again from the disgusted look Mulder shot him. As if Mulder hadn't been thinking exactly the same thing that Alex had. Alex met Mulder's look with an unrepentant challenge of his own. To Alex's great amusement, Mulder looked away, flushing slightly. He really needed to get arrested by the FBI more often, it was almost better than pay-per-view. His expression slipped in to something closer to a smile; he really had been around Owen too long.
Scully beckoned Mulder over and he joined them reluctantly. Alex waited for the explosion. Mulder had never really been one for subtlety when it came to interaction with the bureaucracy. That was what Scully was for. Scully, and Alex during that brief period when he was both Mulder's FBI and Consortium sanctioned partner. To his disappointment the expected disruption failed to happen. Instead the three agents traipsed out of the room, Mulder throwing Alex one last, mistrustful look as he left. Alex thought about waving but decided it was premature, despite Mulder's apparent insecurity as to whether Alex would still be there when he returned or whether he would vanish as soon as Mulder's back was turned; he wasn't out yet. He didn't know if it was courtesy or just good sense that decided that the three agents wouldn't have an argument in front of the prisoner. Although if Alex was reading things right he wouldn't be a prisoner for much longer.
The discussion took enough time that Alex had begun to sweat slightly. Maybe he had been mistaken and the woman was a Consortium plant and didn't have his best interests at heart. Trusting in others to get him out of trouble was something that didn't come easily to him and it made him tetchy. He had lived by betrayal and, while he wasn't religious, he believed that there was a proverb that was unfortunately applicable to his situation. The plans automatically began to shape themselves in his head. If she was Consortium then her first priority would be to find out what he had told them; after that it would depend how badly they wanted him dead and whether they wanted him to suffer first.
Alex closed his eyes and leant back in the hard chair. He'd wanted to visit Bora Bora ever since a random postcard from the place had turned up at the tourist office. Sun, sea, sand and sex on the beach... the thought gave him a goal to keep himself alive for. As if he needed the extra impetus.
The door opening broke him out of his reverie. The red-head led the return, Mulder and Scully trailing at her heals sullenly.
"The devil looks after his own, eh, Krycek?" Mulder commented with bitter humour as he slouched against the wall where Alex would have to pass close by him to leave.
Alex gave his most cherubic smile. Mulder didn't seem happy but that offered him no real clues as to his continued life-expectancy. Mulder had never really learnt to concede with grace, which was unfortunate given the amount of practice he got.
"Mulder," Scully warned him. Alex could have told her not to bother, it wouldn't make any difference, but he figured she knew that.
Mulder shot her a disgruntled look which she met with patience and a flick of her eyes towards their companion. The other woman ignored the exchange.
"Mr. Krycek, I'm Special Agent Blake," she began. "I understand that these agents brought you in unaware of the position you currently hold within the British Embassy and that you did not make them aware of this fact?"
So this was Nicholas' supposed contact. That was an encouraging sign, as was the question. A Consortium plant would be unlikely to bother with such details. Even Skinner wouldn't have, but then he would know Alex wouldn't be about to cause official trouble, not when he could do much worse, and make his point more completely, by causing unofficial trouble. He tried to work out what it meant for Mulder and Scully that Agent Blake appeared to be trying to cover over any irregularities on the parts of the agents as if Alex might bring a complaint.
"That's correct," Alex admitted.
George, and she wasn't anything like Alex would have imagined given the name, Blake waited until it was clear that Alex wasn't going to elaborate.
"Is there any particular reason that you did not make them aware that you had diplomatic immunity?"
Everyone in the room knew it wouldn't have made any difference whatever he'd said but it was a clever fiction and he was willing to play along. He didn't think she was deliberately trying to trap him, just doing her job as she saw it.
Alex gave his most winning smile, "Given the nature of my assignment and the investigation that is being undertaken by law enforcement agencies in both Britain and America, I was told to make contact with you if I was brought in."
It was meaningless but it sounded right and that was all that mattered. George didn't approve of him, Alex could see that, but she didn't have Mulder's crusading zeal for uncovering the truth at any cost, especially when the cost was to fellow agents. He could even have argued with his conscience, should he have had one, that the truth was little more than he had said. If the twisted past he had with Mulder could ever be described as little; what Mulder remembered was certainly small enough. What was, what had been and what might be aside, George would let it, and him, go even though she didn't like it. There was something almost ironical in being in a room with three people, two of whom would shoot him without batting an eyelash if they thought it was necessary, yet neither of them was the person who looked at him with something so close to hate as to be indistinguishable. In that moment, Alex decided he had had enough. Any amusement he had found in the situation was rapidly palling.
He looked George in the eyes, deliberately excluding everyone else in the room from their conversation.
"I spent the whole of yesterday from 6am until late evening with either the British Ambassador, Sir Mark Brydon, members of his staff or his son Azzam Sinclair and his associated security detail. This information can be confirmed through the embassy. If there is nothing else then I have to be getting back."
George nodded slowly. The muted sound of objection echoed behind but he held George's attention. He couldn't tell if she believed him or not, although he suspected she did. She would confirm his story for herself, because she was a good agent, not because she doubted that it would be confirmed.
"Thank you for your co-operation, Mr. Krycek," George said with only the slightest trace of satire, "Shall we?"
She gestured towards the door and its uneven guardians. Alex was only too happy to oblige.
"So, should I call you 'Benedict' now?" Mulder taunted quietly, but not quietly enough, as he passed.
George and Scully gave him almost identical quelling looks but it was George who spoke. "Do I need to remind you again that the British are our allies, Agent Mulder?"
Alex didn't know what had been said when the agents withdrew, but that was either the final confirmation that he had Nicholas to thank for his continued liberty, or the agent was playing a very dangerous double bluff.
"I'm not the one you need to remind. You might want to explain to Mister," Mulder emphasised the honorific in such a way that it was anything but, "Krycek that 'ally' doesn't mean someone you haven't betrayed yet."
In Alex's opinion, Mulder's definition showed a rather naive view of politics but felt that it wasn't the time, or the place, to share his thoughts on the matter. He took a step closer to Mulder, feeling the tension rise in the room as everyone prepared for the worst.
"Don't worry, tovarish," Alex purred, "I know you will be watching my every move."
Mulder flushed, hands fisting.
Alex turned away before Mulder could respond or anyone could intervene. He'd made his point. If Mulder wanted to follow up on his challenge then Alex had a few ideas and Mulder might just end up learning more about himself than he was comfortable with. George gave him a hard look and he followed her obediently, knowing as he trotted at her heals like a puppy that his easy submission was irritating the hell out of Mulder. He suspected that George knew it too from the amused twinkle in her eye that she was doing her best to hide. Mulder must have made his normal good impression.
"Do svidaniya, Fox," he said over his shoulder as he walked out. There was a choking sound from behind him but he refused to look back and see which of them it had come from.
George led him towards the main entrance. It felt strange to stand in the glass portico again. The guards were not the same as the ones he had used to walk past in his days as a junior agent but then he wasn't that man anymore either. Just before the door they stopped, George looking at him seriously. Alex prepared himself for the standard speech and schooled his features into the appropriate expression.
"I hope I am not going to see you again, Mr. Krycek, in a professional capacity. But I doubt that will be the case." Alex nodded insincerely. "I realise that that will likely not be by your choice. I don't think Agent Mulder is going to give up, do you?"
A part of Alex certainly hoped not. Unfortunately, it was a part he tried not to let do his thinking for him.
"Mulder can be a little single-minded on occasion," Alex agreed. "Determination can be an attractive quality in a special agent."
"An interesting turn of phrase." George's gaze sharpened but her tone remained conversational. "I saw the way you were looking at Agent Mulder. The only reason you weren't undressing him with your eyes was because you weren't imagining him in anything to start with. From the way he was blowing hot and cold towards you I'd say you had a pretty good idea of what the view would be like." Alex started to make the expected denial but George held up her hand to stop him. "For all our sakes I'm going to assume that that was long before anything happened that might be seen to compromise his position. He's right - there are things missing from the files, but whoever is covering your butt did a very good job of it and neither he nor I can prove anything. So, answer one question for me..." Alex looked at the woman warily. "Nicholas and Sir Mark?"
The wariness turned to suspicion. Was she honestly asking him if they were the ones who had tinkered with his files. "What about them?"
"Well, are they or aren't they?"
"What?" Alex stared at her in surprise. He could see she thought it was an act.
"Your Mr. Brocklehurst might not be taking out adverts in The Advocate but it isn't exactly a state secret that the most a girl can hope for is a good dinner and intelligent company and the rumours about Sir Mark arrived before he did." That was news to Alex but, thinking over his time at the embassy, it wasn't really a surprise either. Or maybe Torchwood had just broken his surprise response when it came to such things. "Of course," Blake continued, oblivious to his straying thoughts, "no one really paid any attention until a rather nice young Englishman came to stay for the best part of a month for a reason no one at the Embassy was willing to talk about. I know that doesn't mean anything, I don't mean to imply that it does, but watching the two of them work together... there's just something under all that stiff upper lip professionalism."
It was definitely an interesting theory, and an appealing one in many ways (including the aesthetic; Alex wasn't blind or dead). Alex turned it over in his head, comparing it against the nuances of interaction that he had witnessed. Finding the arguments for and against and weighing them against the possible truth. Jane Lavery, whom he had only heard spoke of, against the strange feeling he had got when he had first seen Mark and Nicholas interact. Working with Jack made it very easy to forget the subtleties of hidden sexual interaction. There was just something so uninhibited about his manner that everyone in proximity reacted to, mostly positively. Even Ianto, whose delivery tended towards the deadpan so arid that the dust of his words fell between the cracks in the conversation and was only noticed at a later time, responded in kind.
The rumours were still doing the rounds
At least you look less like a rent boy than the last one
He works for Torchwood
"This young man, are you sure he was English?" Alex asked as one mystery solved itself.
"That was what everyone said," George assured him. "Trust me, this is a city built on gossip and the young man's accent was a hotter topic than the Middle East."
A city of people whose voices were heard throughout the world and they had got their panties in a bunch over a few lilting vowels. Most of them didn't even deal with the foreigners they imported, let alone travel beyond their own borders far enough to sample the rich variety of accents and languages that were the chorus of the world. It was both depressing and typical that a variation on English was both close enough to be unthreatening and different enough to be exotic.
"He couldn't have been Welsh?" He'd been living in Cardiff long enough that the accent was something common to him now. Jack still claimed to get a kick from listening to Ianto talk but Alex suspected that it was a more personal than general thing.
"Could have been. There's a difference?"
Alex let a smile grow on his face, the one that was gently amused at other people's foibles and invited his audience to join him in that feeling.
"So he assures me. He's a colleague of mine." He owed Nicholas one. "Came over here after his girlfriend was killed." He let George draw her own conclusions.
"Damn," she said quietly. Shrugging, she smiled ruefully. "Well, there goes a favourite theory."
"On the basis of that evidence, I'd have to agree with you."
Because it was all about what you could prove, wasn't it? And there would no more be any proof that Mark and Nicholas were anything more than work colleagues than there would about his work for the Consortium.
Blake looked at him shrewdly. "Is there other evidence?"
That was always the question: had you left any trace? People might know, or believe they knew, but if you hadn't even left your fingerprints in the air then it hadn't happened. Unless you were one of the people it hadn't happened to.
"When I worked here with Agent Mulder I was taught three things," Alex told her. "The first was how to fill in paperwork and the second was the impossibility of proving a negative."
She would understand that and he had no better answer for her. Even if he knew what she was asking then he wouldn't have told her and she would have been a fool to believe him. George Blake might have been many things but Alex did not think a fool was one of them.
"What was the third?" George asked curiously.
Alex's smile melted from his face. Meeting her eyes he told her honestly, "Deny everything."
"I can see why you and Nicholas get along," she said dryly. "Okay, Mr. Krycek, let's get you back to the Embassy before I start getting irate calls from the Ambassador."
She put out her hand for him to shake and he did.
"Thank you, Special Agent Blake." Alex found he actually meant the worn out pleasantry.
"Oh and Krycek." There was no hostility in her face and Alex thought he was growing on her. "Tell Brocklehurst he owes me a good dinner. Again."
With that she turned and walked back into the depths of the building.
Next Part...
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