Preview of upcoming M/K Christmas story
Despite having to write a story for Silver Bells and Gold Shields for tietuckluv; a story for the oz_magi; and another chapter to the Smile series before Christmas (fingers crossed), there was no way I could ignore the Krycek Holiday Zine for 2006. It's my history! I was working on something for drunk_fic (only a few hundred words) and decided to tweak things a bit to make it suitable for the zine. I'm surprised at how well it's turning out. Man, it's been a while since I wrote Mulder and Krycek, so it's nice to flex the ol' muscles again. Anyway, here's a little snippet to the fic, which will be posted exclusively to the Holiday Zine the week of Christmas. I'll link to it here when the time comes.
The yellow streetlight cast a muted glow through the half-open blinds and across the living room. Mulder collapsed to the couch with a huff, while Krycek stood above him, unsure of what to do.
"I'd offer you a drink," Mulder said, his voice low and hoarse as it echoed across the living room, "but it's all gone."
"Which is why you felt that a trip to a bar on Christmas Eve was the thing to do."
"You were there too," the man on the couch pointed out.
"I had no where else to go."
"Well, you're here now."
Krycek looked down at him, struck by the odd tone in Mulder's voice.
"You're not planning on pulling a gun out from under the couch and shooting me, are you?" Krycek asked, half-jokingly. "It would kind of ruin my Christmas Eve."
"Actually," Mulder said, "I was going to ask if you wanted to sit down."
"And then you're going to shoot me?"
Mulder quirked a half-grin, quite visible in the dim light of the room. "Not tonight, Alex."
Krycek was surprised at the use of his first name, spoken without the usual sarcasm Mulder usually reserved for it. He sat down on the couch cautiously.
"The last time I was here things were different," Krycek said.
"Things are different again."
The yellow streetlight cast a muted glow through the half-open blinds and across the living room. Mulder collapsed to the couch with a huff, while Krycek stood above him, unsure of what to do.
"I'd offer you a drink," Mulder said, his voice low and hoarse as it echoed across the living room, "but it's all gone."
"Which is why you felt that a trip to a bar on Christmas Eve was the thing to do."
"You were there too," the man on the couch pointed out.
"I had no where else to go."
"Well, you're here now."
Krycek looked down at him, struck by the odd tone in Mulder's voice.
"You're not planning on pulling a gun out from under the couch and shooting me, are you?" Krycek asked, half-jokingly. "It would kind of ruin my Christmas Eve."
"Actually," Mulder said, "I was going to ask if you wanted to sit down."
"And then you're going to shoot me?"
Mulder quirked a half-grin, quite visible in the dim light of the room. "Not tonight, Alex."
Krycek was surprised at the use of his first name, spoken without the usual sarcasm Mulder usually reserved for it. He sat down on the couch cautiously.
"The last time I was here things were different," Krycek said.
"Things are different again."