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The Cold White Room
Deslea R. Judd
Copyright 2003
DISCLAIMER: Characters not mine. Interpretation mine.
ARCHIVE: Yes, just keep my name and headers.
RATING: PG. Pretty harmless.
SPOILERS/TIMEFRAME: How The Ghosts Stole Christmas.
CATEGORY/KEYWORDS: Krycek/Diana, vignette, angst. Shades of
Krycek/Marita and Mulder/Diana.
SUMMARY: Christmas is cold for the lonely.
MORE STORIES: http://fiction.deslea.com
FEEDBACK: Love the stuff. deslea@deslea.com
AWARDS/ELIGIBILITY: Spooky Awards 2004 eligible.
There was a plastic tree on Alex's desk.
It was strange to think of him having an office. It wasn't
much of an office, just a cold white room with a desk and a chair
and a couch that he slept on far too often. Diana wondered how
old Spender wrote that one up, amusing herself momentarily by
considering job titles he might have used to justify his
presence. Security consultant? Strategic planner? Specialist
troubleshooter?
Okay, that one was too close to home.
He knew she was there, of course. He was watching her over his
glass, though he hadn't acknowledged her in the slightest. There
was a half-empty bottle of vodka on the table in front of him.
"I see you've been decorating," she said, nodding at the gaudy
tinsel strung up across the window above his head.
He watched her for a long moment, long enough for her to wonder
whether he was so drunk he hadn't understood. When he finally
spoke, his voice was stone cold sober.
"The tinsel was hung by the window with care," he said. His
voice rolled like a cold wind over dry winter ice. "The
secretary down the hall took pity on me and did it yesterday.
Goddamn civilians."
She refrained from pointing out that regardless of whatever
bullshit credentials Spender had given him to allow him access
here, they were civilians themselves. And that wasn't really the
point, because he would've had the same reaction to anyone.
Kindness burned Alex just as bad as everything else did - maybe
even more. He couldn't bring himself to trust it.
"That was nice of her," she said mildly.
The bitterness in his voice fell back a notch. "Yeah." He
topped up his glass.
She tried again. Nodded upwards at a sprig of mistletoe,
sticky taped to the pipe running across the ceiling over her
head. She tried not to think about where it might lead. "The
Druids believed mistletoe had medicinal properties, you know."
Alex took a long draw on his vodka in lieu of a reply. Out the
window behind him, Diana could see soldiers pacing the main
courtyard. Flurries of snow were forming. Beyond that was
Immunology. His thoughts were probably there now.
"It was a fertility drug," she went on. "That's where the
tradition of kissing began. They said it was an antidote for
poison, as well."
He snorted dry laughter through his nose. It wasn't a happy
sound. "It's going to take more than that. We've made no
progress at all since the Brit kicked the bucket. You know, it
wasn't bad enough that smoking son of a bitch had to whack *him*
- he killed the best doctor equipped to treat her as well."
She sighed. "We'll come up with something."
This seemed to anger him. He slammed down his drink on the
table. "What the fuck are you doing here, Diana? Shouldn't you
be with Mulder? Because he sure isn't here - Marita got that
honour, for believing in him, stupid girl that she is. I bet
he's waiting with a tree and tinsel and mistletoe and a lot more
Christmas cheer than I have, so just go the fuck home."
Her vision blurred, just for a moment, and she wasn't sure if
the sting was Fox or Alex or both, but she held her jaw firm and
said coldly, "He's with Scully."
The hard lines in his face smoothed out. The creases at the
corners of his eyes grew soft with grudging kindness. He picked
up the glass again and stared down into it. He muttered,
"Sorry."
Her eyes felt dry and bruised. Arid. As though she'd wept and
wept until there was nothing left. "No, you're not. You meant
everything you just said."
He looked away. "It wasn't directed at you."
"No, it never is, but somehow I keep on wearing it," she
snapped, her voice a spray of shattered ice. "You're an asshole,
Alex Krycek. Do you really think you're the only one who's been
torn apart from someone by all this? Do you think I like being on
opposite sides with my husband?"
"Ex-husband."
"Shut up."
He sat back on the couch a little. Surprise coloured his
features. She'd never told him to shut up before.
She shook her head. She felt weathered and sore with the toll
of every one of her forty-four winters. "Forget it. I don't
know why I bother." She turned to go.
He sprang up behind her, setting his glass on the cheap little
table with a clatter. He took her arm. "Diana, wait."
She turned to face him. Too damn tired to pull away.
"I don't know why you bother, either," he said. He took her
shoulder, gently, tracing the white planes of her collarbone with
his thumb. "But I wish you wouldn't go."
"What difference does it make?" she wondered. "You're going to
be miserable with or without me."
He cracked a smile. "Hey. Misery loves company."
Another day, she would have smiled, but not today. She just
stood there. She could feel the lines around her eyes. The ache
of just trying to hold herself up.
"You make it...better," he said with difficulty. "Not all
better, but...enough."
She still didn't say anything, but she softened a little when
he kissed her. She didn't kiss him back, but she didn't break
free, either. His mouth was warm and soft and he tasted like
vodka. Some of that parched feeling fell away.
"You're cold," he said. Unusually tender.
There was a bitter taste in her mouth. "Christmas is cold."
His eyes were grave. "Yeah."
They stood there, two lonely people, hurting and lost in a cold
white room.
She looked away. "Make love to me?" she said diffidently.
He nodded. "Okay."
They made love there in the cold, and it wasn't all better, but
it was enough.
END
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for the Harem 155 Word Mistletoe
challenge, although clearly I've far exceeded the word count as
usual! Thanks to Maidenjedi for the challenge. I have some
ideas for two follow-ups to this, but I don't know whether
they'll come to pass. Many thanks to Kelly Keil for comments, as
well.