Title: Tomorrow's Another Day
Author: Peach
Email address: Peach1250@hotmail.com
Fandom: X-Files
Pairings: Skinner/Krycek
Warnings: None Rating: PG
Date: 09/04/03
Archive: If I posted to your list it's yours.
Website: http://us.reocities.com/peach1250/index.html
Disclaimer: The characters of Skinner, Krycek and the X-Files belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and the Fox Network. No copyright infringement is intended no money is being made.
Summary: Two lovers find their way back to each other

NOTES: A Peja Challenge. #17



"Put it off until tomorrow. You've hurt me enough today..." Walter sounded tired; more tired than I'd ever heard him.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Walter. Don't make me do this."

"I can't make it easy for you, Alex. I just can't."

I backed into the shadows so he wouldn't see my eyes as I turned up the dial. His gasp of pain shot through me, as he fell to his knees.


It had been years since I'd seen Alex; Mulder and the others thought him dead. I'd wished him dead. But there was that part of me that was owned by him. The part that couldn't, wouldn't, let go.

You know, romance novels are filled with stories like ours. The one true love that sweeps you up and won't turn you loose. What the romance novels don't tell you is that it's a goddamn roller coaster, which jerks you from side to side and occasionally makes you lose your lunch.

With Alex it had been that and a cotton candy kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel, followed by a plunge into the depths of hell. Not that I can put all the blame on him; I have to carry my share.

Spender tried to kill him because of me, or more precisely because of jealousy. If he couldn't have him, he didn't want me to. After Alex learned that and lost his arm, he became cold towards me. And after a while, I stopped seeking the boy I'd loved and started to hate the man who had replaced him.

Even if it had been him in the garage that night, I probably would have done exactly the same thing.

Now here I stand, looking at him across the table. How he had survived, how he made it here, I don't know. He waits for his judgement. I wait for my fate.


Mulder looks at me, then turns, and I know he is looking at Walter. I wonder if they have become lovers in the years since we last met. I heard that Scully was killed, infected. Skinner would have had to take care of her; Mulder wouldn't have been able to. With her gone, Skinner would be the only one left that he trusted.

"They tell me you aren't infected, so that's a point for you. Almost everyone you ever wronged is gone. Actually, the only ones in that category are here in this room. Personally, I think we need everyone who was strong enough to survive. I leave your fate in the hands of the man you wronged most."

My head rises and I look at him. "You don't want me dead?"

"No, Alex. The only hate left in me is for them and we defeated them. It's time to rebuild."

I watch as he gets to his feet and leaves the room, leaving me with the man who once loved me. The man I still love. I close my eyes and wait for the bullet that will kill me as surely as the one that killed my clone.

I don't hear the sound of a gun being drawn, and that alone gives me hope to continue my miserable existence.


He stands still waiting for his execution. I know that's what he expects. It's not what he will be getting. I wait until he cannot stand waiting any longer, and his eyes open. He looks bewildered; well so am I.

I should want him dead right? So why is my heart beating like Ringo Starr's drumsticks? I know the exact instant he sees his fate in my eyes. A small smile of wonder touches his lips.

I hold out my hand and he reaches for it. Suddenly nothing matters except the future.


Walter leads me through the compound. He receives smiles and nods from people he passes. There are questions in the friendly eyes but none are asked. The house he takes me to is at the end of a packed gravel road. It's small, but clean and neat, like everything Walter has ever owned.

Inside, he shows me where the bathroom is and leaves me to get cleaned up. When I come out wrapped in his robe from the back of the door he has soup and sandwiches made. We eat silently. After everything is tidied up he finally speaks.

"There's a guest room if you want it."

"Is that how you want it?"


When he moves down the hallway, I follow. For the first time in years, held safely in my lover's arms, I sleep the night through.

The end

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