From: AndSilence Date: 14 Dec 1998 04:44:19 GMT Subject: To All the Girls I've Loved Before (M/K) by Silence. To All the Girls I've Loved Before By Silence. Disclaimer: They're not mine. Rating: PG-13 for language, adult situations Category: SRA, M/K, MS-UST Feedback: AndSilence@aol.com Spoilers: none specific. Summary: The magic of life. Apologies to all Julio and Willie fans for the appropriation of their song title. XXX When he was thirteen, Alex fell in love with Amanda McCoy. She was perfect - blonde hair in a long ponytail that hung down her back, always wearing jeans and sandals with a youthful bohemian nonchalance that seemed exotic. She would smile at him, showing a mouthful of braces, and he'd always study for hours so he could beat her on math tests, her favorite subject. One afternoon they both got off the school bus a few stops early and sneaked over behind the 7-11. Alex received his first kiss there. The next day, heart buoyant in the throes of a first crush, Alex walked into homeroom, already having practiced the smile he would give her, and anticipating where he would get his next kiss. But there he found that Amanda had told her best friend, who told another friend and so on, until he saw half the boys in the class smirking at him and making kissy-face noises. First crushes can be cruel - almost as cruel as seventh graders. Had he been a little less soulful, a little more worldly, a part of him wouldn't have died that day. Instead, life and romance lost their magic, and kisses became a commodity, rather than the fun they were meant to be. By seventeen, Alex had a list of all the girls at school he had kissed, snuck off with, fucked. Romance meant little to him, but he already knew all the best lines to get him into a girl's organza-covered canopy bed while her parents were at work, and all the best ways to dump her later, insisting it wasn't her, but him. Had life and romance been a little more magical, he would have regretted his indiscretions, but he was too busy making his list. In his second year of college, Alex met Melody Parker. She was the archetypal angry feminist, and something about her self-assured intelligence captivated him. They slept together before they hardly even knew each other, and when she cried out his name as she came then fell asleep in his arms, Alex fell in love. They were together for nearly two years, living in an idyllic haze of love and magic so atypical of collegiate life. He taught her about learning to accept pain, and she showed him the magic of life. She ghostwrote his psychology papers and he bought her gifts using leftover student loan money. They softened one another's rough edges, and each of them became people they honestly liked, for the first time in their lives. A week after graduation, she left him to go work for an environmental organization abroad. His edges became rough again, but his life stayed magical. He didn't know what to do. Armed with a bachelor's degree in philosophy, he worked in a record store for a while, then was offered a job as an assistant to a scientist named Marcus Bowling. The man was captivating - the jeans and sandals he wore with his labcoat reminded Alex of Amanda from all those years ago. Alex would sit in Marcus' house transcribing lab data, then the two of them would discuss philosophy for hours over coffee and, eventually, sex. The magic of life. In later years, Alex would speculate whether it had all been a ploy to draw him into the organization, for Marcus was one of the leaders. Whatever the case, he mourned deeply when Marcus was killed by the black oil during a lab accident, allowing himself a few moments of tears followed by a seething anger. He then used his intricate knowledge of the man's research as a bargaining chip. Alexander Michael Krycek became a player. The organization instructed him to attend Quantico and join the Bureau. He never questioned why the route was so smoothly paved, despite his general lack of qualifications. If he had questioned it, he might have called it, "magic". But he knew nothing they did was magical. He was told he would be assigned to the X-files, to keep tabs on their investigations and make sure they didn't get too close to the organization. The implication was also that he use sex as one of his tools. So even before the division was closed, he kept watch over them. Alex had assumed he was expected to seduce Scully, so he watched her intently. She was so different back then. Something about her was soft under hard edges; she reminded him so much of Melody it hurt. He knew he could easily fall in love with her, given the opportunity, so he kept his deliberate distance. Then the division was closed and he was sent to Mulder, and only then did he realize his destined target: Fox William Mulder. Such heady days those were. Scully had been banished to Quantico and was all but forgotten as Alex began his seduction. Mulder seemed so innocent, his body language more open. Alex took Mulder into his bed, his heart. Everything Mulder did was amazing - the way he grimaced as he came, the way he'd stay up watching ESPN while Alex tried to sleep. He fell in love with the man with such a power that made Melody seem a dalliance. And then he betrayed Mulder. It broke his heart, his soul. His humanity. The organization "rewarded" Alex with a luxurious condo in a stylish high-rise. He felt like a whore. Heart hardened, he threw himself into every new assignment with abandon, earning his keep like a concubine. Every "agent" had a skill: his was sex. He knew how to become the best lay of a woman's life, or to give a blow job with the skill of a pro. Of course, that's what he was. But the first time he saw Mulder after betraying him, Alex knew he'd lost his lover. For the first time in his life, Alex cried all night until his chest hurt too much to even breathe. He wanted Mulder back. He needed Mulder. Only he could show Alex that magic again. But Mulder hated him. Then, one rainy night not long after he'd returned from Russia, Alex found Mulder on his doorstep. He couldn't tell which of the wetness on Mulder's cheeks was from the rain and which was from tears. Scully was dying, and Mulder needed comfort. The anger on his face and the answers he demanded seemed to evaporate when Alex kneeled before him and unzipped Mulder's jeans. Nothing mattered anymore but Mulder, because Alex was in love. And Mulder didn't love him. He loved her. Alex was fascinated by Scully, even as he knew she was his competitor for Mulder. He respected her deeply, and the conflicting emotions confused the hell out of him. But that didn't keep him from feeling a seething jealousy late at night, Mulder watching CNN while Alex stretched out on the bed the Consortium had paid for. And maybe he loved Mulder too much to hate the woman Mulder loved. He didn't know, and he didn't want to think about it long enough to analyze. Alex could handle any measure of physical pain, but emotional pain was something he refused to confront. So he reveled in the present. Mulder was in his arms, his bed, and some small part of him knew that as long as Mulder remained there, life was safe. And every time Mulder touched him, he felt the air around him sparkle, shine. Full of magic. Temporary, but magical nonetheless. XXX END Special thanks go to Danielle and Ms. Lund for their expertise and support.