With-a-Heart

by Kristen K2

Summary: Alex attempts to understand the strange new creature in his life.

Pairing: Skinner/Krycek/Kim

Series/Story: series/2nd in the "Like a Girl" universe

Legal Disclaimers: If they belonged to me, I'd die a happy woman. As it is, Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013 get all the fun.

Rating: NC-17. This story involves a m/m/f threesome and loving discipline. If you're under legal age, or this sort of thing bothers you, hit your back button now. No sex yet, just discipline.

Notes: For those of you who are asking, Kim Cook is Walter Skinner's secretary. To follow the storyline, you should probably read the stories in order. All can be found at the Persuaders archive.

Dedication: Many, many heartfelt thanks to Lorelei, without whose constant guidance and devotion to spanking the Rat, this would have never been written. For a new armchair-quarterback, your aim is pretty fantastic! And a very special thanks to Ursula, for her tireless beta and support. My stories never feel ready for prime-time without your input.

Feedback: Yes, I'd love it. Please send to K2_fanfic@yahoo.com

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What Alex Krycek knew about women you could fit into a thimble.

With room left over for the tip of his thumb. And a shot of vodka.

Even during his horny teenage years, he'd never understood them. They certainly had expressed interest in him, though. His great-aunt, his reluctant guardian after his parents were killed, had been forced to get an unlisted number a week after Alex hit puberty. Man, was she pissed off at him for that; as though he had any control over how he looked. It wasn't his fault that girls -- and even the occasional curious boy -- flocked around him. While he did take advantage of the hormone-induced attention, he hadn't done anything to encourage it, either.

Notes had been constantly stuffed into his locker or his desk. One girl was so bold as to cram one into his back pants pocket while he walked down the hallway between classes, skirting around clumps of other students, separated into their various cliques, none of which included or interested him. Typical notes were written in purple or sky-blue or magenta ink, full of scribbly doodles and fat exclamation points (!!!) and signed by girls who always ended their names with an "i" and a heart for the dot above the letter. Why the fuck would he ever want to talk to a girl who insisted on changing a perfectly good name like Deborah to Debbi-with-a-heart?

He liked their bodies, so he put up with all the other cringe-worthy crap. Girls were soft, curvy, giggly creatures that smelled good and tasted even better and made his dick leap to attention. Of course, back then, his flag raised to full-mast whenever a breeze passed. Not that much different from now, he thought to himself with a chuckle. Walter had a similar effect on him, even at an age where surprise boners were supposed to be a fond memory. Hell, so did Kim, he grudgingly admitted, the tiniest of smiles crossing his face.

But he couldn't fathom how girls' minds worked. Not then and not now. It boggled him that they put so much emphasis on the weirdest things. Like if he was going to call them back, or whether or not the color of their sweater matched their nail polish. Who cared? If he had his way, the damn sweater would be on the floor by the bed soon enough. And talking...Jesus. They always wanted to talk. About where the relationship was going, what he was thinking, on and on and on.

Finally, Alex had conceded defeat and fucked his high school chemistry lab partner, Matt. No muss, no fuss, just wall-to-wall orgasms. Alex hadn't looked back. As time went on, he sometimes missed the soft, subtle appeal of females, and he indulged the urge now and again, but overall he preferred the uncomplicated company of men. Men who, he presumed, had the same disinclination to 'discuss their feelings' as he did. Men who just wanted a nice fast fuck, and were more than willing to give Alex the same.

Falling in love with Walter Skinner had promptly shot Alex's carefully designed strategy straight to hell. Debbi-with-a-heart had *nothing* on Walter Skinner when it came to discussing his feelings. The man made her look like an amateur pop psychologist, a Dr. Laura of the Clearasil set. How in the hell was Alex supposed to have known that behind the stern and silent AD of Bureau legend lurked such an introspective guy? It had irritated him beyond belief initially, until Walter had looked him dead in the eye and told Alex he had no intention of holding back, as he had with his late wife. One important relationship was all that Walter was willing to sacrifice to his hardheadedness, and he wasn't about to make the same mistake with theirs. He wouldn't risk losing Alex too.

Alex's irritation had evaporated like a drop of water in the Sahara.

He wanted to do the same with Walter, truly he did, but it was often impossible to put that plan into action. He'd look at his lover, sated and panting on the bed, staring tenderly at him with the warmest, sexiest brown eyes Alex had ever seen, and the words he wanted desperately to say would die unsaid on the tip of his tongue. Inevitably, a scene from the sitcom Happy Days that he used to watch as a kid would pop into his brain. The Fonz couldn't say 'I love you', either. He'd try and try, stopping mid-syllable. His face would contort as he would say, 'I lo--, I lo--', then after a few fruitless attempts, he'd grimace and give up. It always got a big laugh out of the audience. It wasn't nearly as funny when it happened in real life.

Thankfully, Walter didn't put up with Alex's nonsense anymore. It had taken a long time, and a lot of idiotic moves on Alex's part, before Walter had laid down the law. Getting a blistered ass wasn't the ideal situation, but it got the job done. And Alex was so deliriously happy when it was over, when Walter would bundle him into his big arms, stroking and petting him, telling him how loved he was, how much he meant to Walter. It made the pain worth every damn tear he shed. The best part was that Alex could finally say all the things he yearned to. It made him face up to the things he couldn't face on his own. *Walter* made him face up to that, he corrected himself. With his strong hand, and his even stronger love.

Alex unconsciously scuffed his boot against the sidewalk as it occurred to him that this stunt he was pulling was likely to earn him a severe case of 'hot-butt', as Kim called it. But he couldn't help it. He *had* to know.

Ever since Kim had insinuated herself into his and Walter's life, Alex had been struggling valiantly to re-open that old Pandora's box. To try to understand girls. Women, he amended. They preferred to be called women, or so he'd been informed over the years. Even the simple act of determining what to call them was cause for bewilderment; their wildly different reactions alone made him regret the few times he had made an effort to talk to them. Why did some smile and blush prettily when he called them girls, yet others looked like they wanted to punch his lights out? For example, Kim didn't seem to mind, but never on his most clueless day would he utter that word within a hundred mile radius of Dana Scully. He might be reckless at times, but he didn't have a death wish.

Specifically, Alex wanted to understand Kim Cook. She was still such a mystery to him, it drove him up the wall. The few tantalizing things he knew about her only made her more baffling. She was sweet-natured, and funny, and she smelled like peaches, Alex's favorite fruit. She was a great cuddler, and she got Walter to relax in a way Alex was incapable of accomplishing. But she had a tough streak in her he'd never noticed when he used to see her at the Bureau. And she was a slob; their bathroom counter was now full of so many bottles and hair clips and girly crap it took Alex a full two minutes each morning to find the toothpaste. She didn't even live with them, not yet, but her stuff was everywhere, which weirdly pleased him almost as much as it annoyed him.

Nobody asked his opinion, but he didn't think she needed to wear all that junk; she looked her best right when she woke up, all tousled and dewy-eyed and warm from sleep. Morning Kim was frighteningly cute to Alex. Much better than Where's-My-Coffee Walter. Some people were early birds, and others were night owls, Alex sighed. Unfortunately, he was both, but now he had someone to snuggle with at both ends of the day.

There were plenty of other things about the little redhead that threw Alex off-balance. That seemingly effortless way she and Walter communicated, for one. It still bugged Alex that the two of them were so in tune with each other, but he tried not to let his jealousy consume him as much as he could. Watching them together, speaking in half-sentences that even a professional cryptographer couldn't decipher, smiling at one another without words, filled Alex with such longing, he sometimes felt a physical pang in his chest. Often, Walter would catch his eye over Kim's shoulder, giving *him* a silent smile that spoke volumes, and Alex's loneliness vanished. Other times the outcast feeling remained, invariably resulting in hot-butt time. His ass clenched involuntarily at the memory.

Another thing that astonished Alex was the way she would stay in the room when he got spanked, even when he knew she wanted to be anywhere but there. She hovered by the nearest door, poised for flight, her blue eyes huge and bright with unshed tears, silently hugging her tensed frame, but not intervening. The first time Walter had disciplined him when Kim was there, Walter had asked her if she wanted to leave before it began. With the oddest straightening of her shoulders, she had looked directly at Alex, and asked him his preference. Nobody in the room had been more surprised than him when he heard his own voice asking her to stay.

And she had, which awed Alex. He had assumed she'd be out the door so fast she'd leave skid marks. He'd counted on it, in fact; when he later tried to analyze why he wanted her there, he figured it stemmed from his still-abundant jealousy. She'd see what he and Walter had agreed to, and it would repulse her enough to give up, and leave the two of them alone. But Kim wasn't a quitter, a discovery Alex was secretly happy to make. He'd rather have a hot poker stuck in his eye than tell her that, though.

But in all the time since she had become a part of his life, there was nothing, *nothing*, that she had done or said that had shocked him more than what she had done this morning. He knew, deep in his gut, that she had only asked him to join her and her friend for drinks and dinner out of pity. Walter had to work late catching up on paperwork, insisting that Kim not stay late with him, and Alex hadn't had any plans outside of watching a hockey game on television. Kim didn't really want him to go with her, he assumed; she was just being polite. So he had automatically turned her down, ignoring Walter's sigh of disappointment, and brushing off her strangely hurt expression as a reaction to his brusque reply. The fact she had asked at all moved him more than he cared to admit. And it set his curiosity on fire.

As on fire as his ass would be if Walter found out that Alex had followed Kim to the restaurant, and was currently watching her and her friend talking animatedly inside. The place was split into two sections, bar and restaurant, and there was a half-wall separating the different areas. The two girls -- damn, he did it again -- the two *women* were in the bar area, at a small table right up against the wall. Kim's back was to the window where he stood outside, but her red hair shimmered from the light above the table, making it easy to locate her in the bustling crowd. She'd seemed anxious when she'd first arrived, fidgeting nervously, but that had been at least an hour ago, and she'd had a few drinks since, so she was probably over whatever had been bothering her earlier. By now, he could see her shoulders shaking whenever she laughed at something her friend said. Not quite the more-appealing full-body shake of laughter she gave when Alex told her a joke, but it was close.

The overhead light glistened over the few golden strands of Kim's coppery hair whenever her head turned toward the entrance, which gave him fair warning to duck out of her line of vision. He didn't think Kim would rat him out to Walter, but Alex wasn't taking any chances. Walter had been very clear that one of the things that would get Alex in trouble was a return to his old ways. No spying, no B&E, no tailing. So far, he was batting 2 for 3. Hot-butt for sure if he got caught, so an extra dose of diligence was required.

Alex checked out the friend, more out of habit than anything else. A petite woman, like Kim was, with a head of springy dark brown curls and an enormous smile. Pretty in a ethereal way, but not nearly as attractive as her dinner companion, in Alex's estimation. Kim talked about Melanie often; they'd been roommates in college, and were still very close. Melanie worked at the Department of Justice, as a lawyer in the Civil Rights division; and Alex knew she was on the up-and-up. He'd done some research on the woman after Kim mentioned her the first time, and had even gone to court once to see her in action, and to memorize her appearance. It never hurt to be too careful, even if he was no longer a wanted fugitive.

But she was perfectly harmless, thankfully. If Kim's friend had had ties to the Consortium, as he had feared, then he might have had to break Rule Number One. And killing anyone, even justifiably, headed the top of the list of things he could no longer do. Ever. No matter what. Walter hadn't said it in precisely those words, but Alex was certain his punishment wouldn't be a mere spanking; total banishment from a life he was beginning to hope was his forever would be the only fitting response. Of that, Alex had no doubt.

When one of the many sleazeballs who'd been ogling the two women from the bar approached their table, Alex immediately abandoned his post at the window and made his way into the crowded foyer of the restaurant. He still didn't want Kim to know he was there, but if she needed some help getting rid of the pesky jerk, Alex wanted to be close enough to do some decent damage. His stealthy advance toward the bar section ceased mid-step when he saw the man stomp back to his stool within moments of his uninvited arrival at the women's table. From the crestfallen look on the asshole's face, Alex knew he'd just been handed his balls back on a platter. That's my girl, he chuckled, ducking back into the crowd milling by the entrance.

Now that he was inside, he couldn't bring himself to leave. It was warmer in here, anyway. And the empty table just on the other side of the half-wall that separated the bar from the restaurant beckoned invitingly. If he snagged that seat, he could hear everything Kim and Melanie were saying. It wasn't eavesdropping, he convinced himself. He was just looking out for her, in case some other jackass at the bar didn't know how to take no for an answer. Yeah, that's what he tell Walter if he found out. He might even be impressed by Alex's chivalry.

Yeah, right.

Kim and Melanie were giggling like a pair of teenaged girls-with-hearts as he slipped into the booth, careful not to draw their attention.

"Oh my God, did you see that rug?" Melanie exclaimed. "You'd think he'd realize it's a totally different color than the rest of his hair."

"Maybe he bought it in a poorly lit store," Kim said merrily. "Ugh, I hate toupees. So what if a guy's bald? What's the big deal?"

Alex had to agree with her assessment, but he was glad all the same he didn't have the same problem. Walter's smooth scalp was very sexy, but on him...he'd look like a cue ball, for sure.

"I like a full head of hair, myself. Gives me something to, ah, hang on to," Melanie snickered.

"There's always his ears," Kim said between another round of laughter. "The headboard works too, in a pinch."

Alex nearly swallowed his tongue.

Jesus. Is this what women talked about when they were alone? Kim wasn't exactly shy in bed, but she didn't *talk* about sex, at least not around Alex. He leaned closer to the wall, fascinated.

"Jeez, where's the hostess? Isn't there a free table yet?" Kim asked. The timely query provided Alex the opportunity to turn and glare a clear 'back-off' signal to the perky woman he'd seen moments ago in the foyer. She halted her approach toward him and timidly went back to her station. "I'm getting hungry."

"Yeah, me too. But she said it might be a while, so just relax. What about the one in the middle? Blue sweater, blond, wiry frame?" Melanie commented.

"Married," Kim replied. "Not even worth considering."

"I don't see a ring."

"Probably in his pocket, for when he gets home to the missus. But he's got that white indent on his left ring finger, which is a dead giveaway. Walter," Kim paused, "ah, Mr. Skinner used to have one too. That's how I knew, before he...um, before the divorce."

"Oh, well then...hey, wait a minute! You called him Walter. You never...oh my God, why didn't I catch this before?!" Melanie's voice sped up, then dropped a notch in volume. "How long were you planning on letting me check out guys for you, when it's obvious you don't need *my* help? Hmm, Kimmy? Were you *ever* going to clue me in?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're implying," Kim answered airily. "Besides, I thought we were looking for someone for you."

"Oh please." A very non-dainty snort emanated from the other side of the wall. "Your face is as red as a tomato! Jeez, why didn't you say something? Oh my God, how long has this been going on? Why didn't you tell me?"

A wooden chair squeaked loudly against the floor. Kim must be squirming, Alex surmised. He knew her body language, especially when she was uncomfortable. Her nervous fidgeting was something he recognized all too well. He wondered why she hadn't told her closest friend she was involved with Walter. Alex was proud as hell, but he didn't have anyone to crow to.

"Mel, now's not really the time, and..."

"Who are you looking for?" the other woman interjected.

"Huh?"

"You've been sneaking peeks at the door since we got here. Did you invite *Walter* to join us? You said you might bring someone."

"No, not Walter. Somebody else. I thought maybe he'd change his mind, but I guess not," Kim sighed. If he didn't know any better, Alex could have sworn she sounded unhappy.

"Somebody *else*? Who? I'm getting very confused by all this. Kimmy, what the hell haven't you been telling me?"

"Mel, it's kind of complicated. And here's not a good place to discuss...I mean, I was going to tell you if things had turned out differently, but they...just drop it, alright? It doesn't matter."

Kim's friend sure was a persistent little thing, Alex thought with admiration, as she continued to pepper Kim with questions. But Kim didn't give her a morsel of information. She could be as stubborn as he was when she wanted to be.

His cell phone nearly gave him a heart attack when it started ringing in his breast pocket.

"Hello?" he muttered under his breath, moving his head to the other side of the booth seat, so Kim wouldn't hear his voice. The place was packed with people and pretty noisy over on her side of the wall, so maybe he still had a slim prayer of staying invisible.

"You have exactly four minutes to get your ass out of there and in my car," Walter said abruptly. "I'm three blocks south, in the alley off DuPont. Don't make me come in there and get you."

With that, he disconnected, and Alex was left staring at a dead receiver.

Oh shit.

His goose was cooked.

Omniscient Walter strikes again, Alex thought dismally, as he automatically slunk out of the restaurant, oblivious to the relieved look on the hostess's face. He jammed his hand into his pocket as he made tracks toward the alley, his stomach churning with a clammy anxiety. How many rules had he broken tonight, anyway? Not many, right? Better make sure to point out his chivalrous deed, that might buy him some wiggle room.

When Alex spotted Walter leaning against the hood of his car, the dark, settled look on his lover's face quickly erased any thoughts of wiggle room. Alex's steps slowed of their own volition as he walked down the long, ominously empty space, the scrape of his boots against the asphalt echoing along the brick walls. Still dressed in his official Bureau attire, Walter's air of authority seemed to envelop the whole alley, if not the entire metropolitan area. His overcoat was unbuttoned, displaying an ocean of white cut in half by his tie. Arms folded over at his broad chest, his long legs were crossed at the ankles as he awaited Alex.

The alley itself was dark and sleazy, but neither the rats scurrying in the corners nor any potential thieves stood a chance with FBI Assistant Director Walter Skinner at his most intimidating. Alex himself had extensive experience with acting menacing, but just the sight of Walter as he rounded the corner caused a nervous sweat to break out along his hairline.

"Hey," he said by way of avoiding the unavoidable, "how'd the paperwork go?"

An eyebrow lifted fractionally over the wirerims. "Fine, thanks. I was able to get through it much faster once everyone left for the day."

Alex shuffled his feet, not letting his eyes rest anywhere close to the determined brown ones ten feet in front of him. "That's great. I'm sure--"

"Alex." Walter stopped him cold, waiting until Alex looked at him directly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"We're discussing your day at work, Walter. I'm sure you're beat after such a long day. Maybe we should head home. I can make some dinner..."

Walter merely shook his head. And waited.

"I was just making sure she was okay," Alex blurted out. "There were guys hitting on her in there!"

Another wordless eyebrow lift.

Silence, painfully slow in its growth, enfolded both men in a cocoon.

Alex knew he was supposed to say something, *anything*, but his throat was suddenly too tight to get any air inside his lungs, let alone attempt speech. In his head, he understood that Walter would never really, truly, hurt him, not in any way that Alex wouldn't allow. Yet the way his lover looked at this moment, dark and still and threatening in this cold, empty alley...it was scaring the crap out of him.

Walter's voice was even, but a hidden depth hinting at danger rippled below the surface. "You seem a little nervous, Alex. Is something the matter?"

"No," he fibbed, then looked away from those penetrating brown eyes.

"Are you frightened?"

Alex's head started to nod, but he made it stop before it completed the down swing. This was ridiculous, being afraid of Walter. He was an assassin, well a former one, at any rate. If Walter ever really did try to hurt him, Alex was more than capable of defending himself. His shoulders unconsciously braced, as he stood up straighter.

"Alex," Walter continued in that deadly calm, deadly serious, deadly lethal voice, "I want you to use that over-active imagination of yours for a different purpose. Okay?"

"Okay," he squeaked. Squeaked? Jesus, what was the matter with him?

"Okay. You know who I am, right here and right now. You know that I love you, and I'm not going to hurt you. But you're still a little scared, aren't you?" Alex's head gave an infinitesimal nod, without his overt knowledge or permission. "I suspect that the location is a factor. In the daylight, this alley would be simply the dump it is. But in the dark, you can't tell that, can you? There's all kinds of things that could be hiding in the corners, waiting in ambush."

Alex nodded again, harder and more consciously, amazed that Walter had pinpointed precisely what was agitating him.

"And then there's me. Wearing my 'boss armor', as you often call it. Both you and Kim tell me that when I'm in my suit and tie, I cut an imposing figure," Walter continued, sounding a little amused at the idea.

"Sexy, too," Alex countered slyly. Walter's expression never broke from his stern demeanor, but his eyes absorbed the compliment, and the feeble attempt to change the subject.

"Look down at what *you're* wearing, Alex," Walter commanded. Alex did as requested. Nothing out of the ordinary; he wore his standard outfit. Jeans, the thick woolen sweater that Kim had given him for Christmas, boots, leather jacket, and gloves. A corner of his brain noted everything was black, but that wasn't unusual.

His head bobbed up, confused. "So?"

"So, imagine you're a woman. A woman who leaves work one evening, on a cold, dark night, and walks a few blocks to the Metro, on her way to meet a friend for dinner. You're on the petite side, and even though one of your lovers is teaching you to box, you're not exceptionally strong. You don't carry a gun, or any kind of weapon, because for the most part, you don't need them. You've got two men who can protect you, if the need arises. But neither of those men are with you right now. And even though you can't see anyone, there's someone following you as you walk down the street, small and defenseless. You can't say exactly *why* you know someone is there, you just do. All you can see behind you is the dark, and for a split second, you think you see something, a tall, looming, silent presence in the shadows. But then it disappears, and a shiver of fear runs downs your spine, as you wonder if your mind is playing tricks on you. Even on the train, you feel like someone is watching you, but still he manages to elude you. It isn't until after you thankfully reach your destination without incident, and call one of your lovers for reassurance, that you start to feel safe again."

Alex swallowed, seeing the picture Walter drew all too clearly. Viewing it from her perspective made him feel like a creep, no better than the jerks in the bar. Worse than those idiots. Kim hadn't been afraid of *them*, but she'd called for reinforcements to defend herself against Alex. "I didn't think of that. I'm sorry. Did she tell you it was me?"

Walter shook his head. "She didn't know it was you when she called. I figured that out on my own."

"She didn't know..." Alex paused, the guilt crashing over him. Suddenly he felt lower than a worm. "Shit. That's why she was so nervous earlier. She thinks I'm a stalker, or a r-rapist."

Walter stood and crossed the space between them, cupping Alex's chin in his hand. His long fingers stroked lightly across Alex's smoothly-shaven skin. "She doesn't think any such thing, Alex. Neither do I. But I wanted you to see how your actions affected her. I know you didn't mean to scare her."

"I'm so sorry, Walter," he whispered, leaning into that strong hand.

"I know you are. But you have to learn to think before you act sometimes. You're no longer a criminal, but you still cut as imposing a figure as I do. Especially in the dark. Tell me, if you wanted to go with her, why did you turn her down when she asked? Why did you feel the need to tail her?"

"She...she didn't want me to go," he mumbled. "She just felt sorry for me."

A hot mouth brushed against his right temple in a brief kiss, and Alex ached badly to reach over and let that mouth consume him. They stood very close together, and Walter still held his face gently, but there *were* in public, even in this dark alley. Walter had a job and a reputation to maintain, so Alex forced himself to stay where he was.

"Kim cares about you a great deal," Walter said softly. "It wasn't pity."

"Then why did she ask me?" he asked, unconvinced.

His chin was lifted up so he was forced to look into Walter's eyes. His bemused, warm, chocolate eyes. "I think she might have been asking you on a date, Alex."

A date? The thought astounded him. Kim had asked him on a date? Just the two of them, without Walter?

"But...but her friend is there," he sputtered.

"Melanie is a very important person to Kim. Keeping us a secret from her best friend has been stressful for her," Walter said mildly, although his tone was very serious.

Alex mulled that over, unable to grasp the concept. "Are you saying Kim wanted me to meet her friend as her... her..." he stopped, not sure what term he should use. He wasn't Kim's boyfriend, or her lover, was he? Walter was those things to her. Alex wasn't. Right?

Walter grinned. "Yes, as her lover. You *are* her lover, Alex, just as much as I am. And she's mine, and yours." His mouth brushed Alex's temple again, his voice hot and deep in Alex's ear. "And you're mine, and hers. That's what the three of us are, together. We all belong to each other."

Alex's mind was spinning. "Why...then why didn't she tell me that?" he asked accusingly, wildly searching for someone else to blame.

Walter leaned back against the car again, folding his arms back up in his don't-give-me-shit stance, and a shiver of emptiness ran down Alex's spine at the loss of the big man's warmth. "You turned her down pretty fast, pal. I doubt she wanted to get shot down twice in thirty seconds. Not before breakfast."

It was almost encouraging to note that years after he'd forgotten his high school locker combination, his abysmal track record with the fairer sex was still intact, Alex mused wryly. At least he was consistent in one aspect of his life.

"Maybe...maybe I could make it up to her," he suggested, jerking his head toward the street. "We could both go in and join them for dinner."

"In a little while," Walter said, the settled tone back in his voice. "First we need to deal with what you did."

A familiar, curious mix of dread and relief skittered across Alex's nervous system. Hot-butt time was rapidly approaching.

"Alex." The stern implacability in Walter's voice and eyes left not one millimeter of wiggle room. "I count three offenses. I'd like you to tell me what they are."

Three?

"I followed Kim and used some of my old spying techniques," he offered.

"That's one."

Damn, he was hoping that counted as two separate mistakes. "I, uh, might have heard a little bit of conversation before you called me," he mumbled.

"I saw you sitting in there for at least ten minutes, Alex. I'm sure you heard more than a little," Walter said dryly.

Alex was stunned. "You saw me?"

"Do you think you're the only one who knows how to conduct an effective surveillance?" Walter countered, his eyebrow up again. He let slip a small chuckle at Alex's thinly-veiled indignation. "You're slipping, Krycek, if you didn't see *me* tailing *you*. I expected better from an ex-FBI agent and retired assassin. Perhaps I should have a word with the instructors at Quantico."

Of all the men in the world with whom Alex could have fallen in love, he had to pick one with a stellar investigative background and a lousy sense of humor.

"They talk about men when they're alone," he informed Walter incredulously. "They make fun of us."

"Indeed," Walter said blandly. "Ever spent time in a men's locker room, Alex? I doubt anything women say could be as crude as the lies swapped in there." He shifted against the car hood. "So that's two. Tailing and eavesdropping. What's the third?"

Damned if he knew.

"I--I hurt Kim's feelings?" he asked, fishing around blindly.

A glimmer of surprise crossed Walter's expression. "Yes, you did, but that's not an offense we agreed on as punishable."

"I know, but...things are different now, and I thought maybe..." Alex was mortified at how uncertain he sounded.

"Alex, let's get a couple of things straight. One, I will never change the rules in this without talking about it with you first. This is something we've decided on, together, and it would be unconscionable of me to do otherwise. We both chose this, long ago. It was a mutual decision, and neither of us has the right to alter the boundaries we set without discussing it with the other first. Correct?"

"Correct," he replied. A gentlemen's agreement, Walter called it. The phrase had an old-fashioned charm that appealed to Alex; the implication that Walter viewed him as a gentleman was a heady prospect.

"Nothing has changed, Alex. Not when it comes to this."

"Okay," he said decisively, as his gut told him what his brain already knew. Walter was a firm believer in rules and boundaries, and Alex was ashamed that, even for a split second, he had forgotten that. The sharp tingle of fear dissipated slowly from his spine. "What's the second point?"

Dark eyes peered at him carefully behind the wirerims. "The second point is that whatever happens between you and Kim is between you two. You two don't know each other well yet, so it's inevitable that feelings will get bruised on occasion, accidentally or on purpose. I'd prefer if you didn't deliberately try to hurt her, but that's not for me to dictate to you. Three people in a relationship is a tricky business, and there's a lot of balancing that has to take place. You can come to me if you have questions, or if you're unsure, just as she does."

"She does? She asks questions about me?" Alex interrupted.

Walter smiled. "Of course. Kim wants very much to make this work, and she cares about you a great deal. But there are times I think she feels intimidated by you, and it's easier for her to come to me and figure out how to reach out to you. For example, this morning. I knew she was asking you on a date, because she wanted my opinion before she did it. If I had known you were going to shoot her down, of course, I would have suggested a different approach, but I think I misjudged your feelings for her. I thought you were beginning to trust her, Alex, or at the minimum, like her even a little. Was I wrong in my assessment?"

"No," Alex mumbled, resisting the urge to kick at the asphalt like a recalcitrant child. "I do like her, Walter. I'm sorry that I scared her, and made her feel uncomfortable."

"I'm not the one you should apologize to for that," the older man said gently. "Just talk to her, Alex. She doesn't bite."

A sly grin slid on and off Alex's face. "Sometimes she does."

Walter laughed unexpectedly. "So do I. You're pretty edible." He coughed. "Back to the matter at hand. What's the third offense?"

Alex caught his eye-roll with seconds to spare. Trust Walter to maintain his damn focus, just when Alex was contemplating bite-able sections of the delectable body before him. Okay, what had he done? Eavesdropped, tailed... he was at a complete loss to come up with a third.

"I physically frightened Kim?"

A headshake. "That was very, very wrong to do, but that wasn't it. Try again." Walter waited until Alex shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "We spoke on the phone twice today, Alex. And you insisted that you were fine, and you were planning on staying home all night. But that wasn't true, was it?"

Instantly ashamed and remorseful, Alex bowed his head, unable to meet Walter's steady gaze. "I lied," he confessed, feeling his face flush at the memory. "I'm so sorry I lied to you, Walter. I knew I was going, but I...I shouldn't have done that."

"I know you're sorry, sweetheart," Walter replied calmly. "But that doesn't change the situation. You broke three rules, things we agreed that you would not do anymore."

"But I didn't mean to," Alex exclaimed, his words speeding up and tripping over themselves as dread overtook relief in his veins. As much as he was grateful that Walter was strict with him and kept him grounded, it was always this moment just before the punishment started that grabbed him by the throat in a panicky grip. "It was Kim's fault, she didn't tell me it was a date!"

That probably sounded as pathetic to Walter as it did to him, he realized belatedly. More justifications and excuses formed on his tongue, but they were silenced by Walter's stony expression. "I...I did it," Alex finally whispered. "It was my fault. I stalked her, and I listened in on something that was none of my business, and I lied. To you. I'm so sorry I did that. All of it."

Walter reached across the cold space between them, and tugged Alex closer. Running his large ungloved hands up the leather sleeves of Alex's jacket, he briefly cupped Alex's face before moving back down and grasping his shoulders. Even in the chilled air of the black and vacant alley, his palms were still warm. Alex had joked once that Walter had enough body warmth to heat up DC in the winter, but he never expected his theory to be proven so soundly.

"I love you, Alex Krycek," Walter said vehemently, his voice low and thick with emotion. "Don't you ever forget that."

Hot tears instantly pricked at the back of Alex's eyeballs. "I lo-...I love you too, Walter," he answered raggedly. "I'm so sorry I lied to you. I never meant to do that."

Walter searched his face, before sighing and loosening his iron grip on Alex's shoulders. "Get in the car, sweetheart."

For one fleeting moment, Alex's powerful survival instinct, which had first flared to life in the crucible of his Consortium years, suddenly re-manifested itself as an intense yearning to shake off the strong hands still resting on him, and run like hell. Alex had to remind himself that to heed that primitive inner voice, to bolt like a cornered animal, was in direct contrast to what he truly needed to survive, in the larger sense of the word. Survival of his soul over survival of his skin, a concept considered laughable in his old world, was the true lesson being taught, patiently and slowly, by Walter's firm hand. The lesson didn't always take, but Alex understood the value behind it.

Alex took a deep breath and willed himself to stand fast, with the one person who loved him enough to correct his skewed vision of intimacy and responsibility. This was right where he needed to be, existing in Walter's hands and his eyes and his heart. Alex would do whatever it took, whatever Walter asked, to have this incredible chance to repair his tattered soul, and be the man that Walter loved. Whether it was accept responsibility for his actions, or allow someone else to enter their lives, or stand on his head if he was asked, Alex would do it.

But deep down, he had just enough self-awareness to recognize that the things Walter asked of him were things that Alex wanted for himself as well. He wanted to be held accountable, to be able to hold his head up high when he looked in the mirror each morning. And he wanted that sweet redheaded girl to accept him, maybe even to look at him the way she looked at Walter someday. He'd rather not have to go through the pain to get to those things, but it was the only avenue that led him to where he needed to be. In the end, Alex's desire to become the person his lover could be proud of, compelled him to submit to Walter's directive.

Walter stopped him when he started to open the passenger door. "The back seat, Alex. We're going to do this here."

Here?

"Aren't we going back to our apartment?" Damn, he sounded like he was twelve, changing voice and all.

Walter hesitated, then nodded his head toward the street. "We could, but I promised Kim I'd pick her up after dinner. Viva Towers is forty-five minutes from here. It's your call. I can tell her to take a cab home later if you want."

Alex automatically glanced around the deserted alley, then into the car window. The damn Bureau was still on the stingy side when it came to assigning vehicles to Assistant Directors, he noted dryly. You'd think they'd rate higher than a freaking Buick. Strangely enough, the car always reminded Alex of the large boats in which he had fooled around with Debbi-with-a-heart way back when. Walter had generously pushed up the passenger seat all the way to the dashboard, folding it in half so it would be roomier, but space in the backseat was still going to be tight, especially after he factored two six-foot-plus men into the equation.

He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it abruptly, mutely accepting the time and location of his punishment. Alex's guilt over frightening Kim weighed heavily in his decision. Walter wouldn't punish him for it, but Alex knew he deserved to be. Accepting an awkward, semi-public spanking gave him the chance to atone for that particular sin. Moreover, the thought of relegating Kim -- who'd done nothing to merit Alex's shabby treatment of her -- to an impersonal taxi driven by God knows who, was unforgivable. She had been through enough tonight.

Walter stood and removed his overcoat, folding it neatly and placing it on the driver's seat. His suit jacket and tie soon joined it. Alex watched, unmoving, as Walter opened the rear door and sat down in the back, behind the driver's seat. After a moment, Alex took one last look around the alley, and joined him in the backseat. It was inconceivable that Walter would do this if he weren't entirely certain they would remain unseen. Alex resolved not to yell, just to be on the safe side.

Many clumsy minutes later, Walter had directed Alex into the best spot. Walter sat behind the driver's seat, facing the front window, and Alex was situated on the rear passenger's side, in complete polar opposition to Walter's position. Alex faced the rear window, and he was kneeling in the well space of the floor. His bent feet pushed against the bottom of the front passenger seat, his thighs pressed firmly into the bottom edge of the backseat, and his shins were caught tight between the two.

His upper torso leaned over the actual backseat, and he held up his weight with both hands firmly placed on the bottom half of the cushion. His prosthetic arm bit acutely into his scarred stump, he had it jammed so tightly into place. His black leather jacket and gloves had joined Walter's tidy stack of clothes in the front seat. Alex kept his sweater on for practicality's sake, and his jeans and boxers were hanging down around his knees. The cold metal of his belt buckle bit into his lower thigh as he shifted his weight around to alleviate some of the pressure on his stump.

The position was incredibly awkward, with his bare ass beginning to get chilled from the cooling air in the car and sticking out embarrassingly in mid-air. His balls scraped once against the cold plastic piping of the cushion, and instantly shriveled into his body, dueling for space with the rest of his genitals, which had also headed inside, seeking a more hospitable clime. Trapped between the unusual, geometrically perfect confinement of the front and back seats, the right side of the car, and Walter, Alex had zero room to flail away from Walter's oncoming hand.

There was nowhere to go, which invited a feeling of overwhelming relief. Alex's life had prepared him well for the feeling of having nowhere to go. But this time was different. Before, it was due to being trapped in an inescapable cycle of terror and death; now it provided a keen sense of comfort. Nowhere to go meant he was safe with Walter.

Once Alex was in place, Walter leaned into the front seat area, and locked all the doors. Rolling up his left shirtsleeve, he shifted to face Alex, wedging his right knee up between Alex's upper torso and the bottom of the backseat. Walter's immeasurable body heat seeped through his pants against Alex's bare hip, and Alex was greatly comforted by the warm sensation of the contact.

As nervous as he was about was coming, Alex couldn't help but thrill at the closeness and intimacy of the position they were in. During most of his punishments, he lay over Walter's knee, their faces far apart. Here, practically cradled between Walter's legs, their bodies touching in a number of spots, Alex could feel the other man's warm breath against his cheek, as he bent his head so his forehead rested against the top of the rear cushion.

Determined not to make any controllable noise that might alert an outsider to what was happening, Alex bit down on his lip to hold back the whimper when Walter's left hand finally touched his quivering ass. Not a slap. A caress. The warmth of that large palm against his rapidly-chilling flesh sent a wave of goose bumps over Alex's body.

"There were three offenses, Alex," Walter said into his ear, his tone hushed yet no less demanding. "Tell me what they were."

"Spying, eavesdropping, and lying," Alex whispered against the fabric of the seat, keeping his head in profile to Walter's. The words alone filled him with shame. If he turned now and looked into those brown eyes he knew were inches from his, and saw the disappointment he knew had to exist in them, what was now merely painful would escalate to pure torture.

"What are the rules we agreed on, Alex?" Walter continued, his hand still stroking Alex's ass. "Why are the first two wrong?"

"B-because it's what I used to do, when I was bad. They're illegal, and dangerous, and wrong."

"You're not bad, sweetheart. But those actions could get you in serious trouble or injured if you got caught," Walter reminded him.

Alex nodded against the cushion, swallowing erratically as he tried, and failed, to keep his breathing pattern regular. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the windows steaming up from the heat of their intertwined bodies inside the car. "Yes. Doing something illegal could get me arrested. Or imprisoned."

"Or killed," Walter added, the note of anguish in his voice echoing keenly in Alex's heart. Knowing that his foolish behavior had the capacity to wound his lover tormented Alex more than any physical discipline ever could. "What if it hadn't been me who caught you, sweetheart? What if it had been someone looking to cause you harm?"

Tears pricked behind his eyes again, as Alex finally began to see the potentially horrific consequences of what he had done. "I'm so sorry, Walter. I was so wrong, to put myself in danger and worry you like that. I promise I'll never do it again."

"Good, Alex," Walter continued, his voice dark and loving and so, so close. "Never take risks like that again. Your life is worth so much more than that. You're so important to me, sweetheart. I couldn't live without you. You know that, don't you?"

"Y-yes. M'sorry, Walter," Alex managed to squeeze out around the thick ball lodged in his throat. The tears weren't coming yet; they never did. But to know this, to hear Walter tell him that he was cherished and needed, at the precise moment that he was raw and exposed and on the brink of pain, made something crack deep inside his soul.

It was at this moment, suspended in time, that he always felt the safest, and the most loved. To know that absolution was a heartbeat away. That no matter what terrible things he had done, things he knew were wrong and bad and hurtful, Walter would make him face up to them and love him and forgive him.

"Lying, Alex," Walter's steady voice pulled him back from the abyss. "Tell me why lying is wrong."

"B-because it breaks the trust between us. It makes you hate me, and distrust me and then you might send me away."

"No, sweetheart," Walter said forcefully. "I'll never hate you, and I'll never send you away. *Never*, Alex. But lying does break the trust; it puts a barrier between us, and that hurts us both."

"M'so sorry for lying and hurting you," Alex choked out, comforted by the conviction in Walter's tone. "I was thoughtless and wrong and I don't want you to mistrust me. I won't lie again. I p-promise."

A large hand covered his real one at that moment, the heat from the palm enveloping the back of his hand. Strong fingers curled around Alex's palm, and he grabbed onto them for dear life. Soothing breath warmed his earlobe.

"I love you, Alex," Walter whispered thickly, then moved his head fractionally away. Whether the passionate reminder was for Alex's benefit or his own, Alex couldn't tell. Perhaps for them both.

WHACK!

The first smack against his unsuspecting flesh jolted Alex, ripping the moan out of his mouth, and he bit into the seat cushion to muffle it. He managed not to make a sound.

WHACK! WHACK!

Eyes screwed shut to prevent the tears from falling too soon, the still-working practical side of Alex's brain informed him that with the limited space available, Walter wasn't able to get much momentum in his swing. But his already sweltering ass couldn't tell the difference; it throbbed and yearned for freedom.

WHACK! WHACK!

Blood rushed from his head to his ass, which was burning from the well-placed swats. The pain began to spread, from his crammed-in toes to his pinched shins to his freezing balls to his churning stomach to his pounding heart to his raw throat to his lip clamped tightly between his teeth. Walter stayed whisper close to him, one hand covering Alex's comfortingly, the other driving into his exposed ass with excruciating precision and force. Walter may not have momentum, but he had hours in the gym to build up his powerful muscles, the last of Alex's functioning brain cells conceded.

WHACK! WHACK!

The aches and pains of the rest of his body also conceded defeat, as every nerve ending suddenly relocated to his backside, pooling their energy into one concentrated section. His bare skin heated and tingled from the relentless strokes, then the tingling became stinging. His entire focus was soon on his red, swollen butt, his awkward position forgotten, the rest of the world left behind. Alex surfed the waves of pain, sliding off one curl as it crested and jumping onto the next; he sure-footedly sought, and found, the mindless head space he knew from experience existed, where he could feel free enough to speak the truth. His mouth fell open, words and cries and confessions rushing down to his tongue, but no sound emerged from his parted lips. Ready to talk, he suddenly realized he couldn't.

Something was wrong. He felt wrong.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Walter's voice cut through his confused panic. "Tell me, Alex. Tell me why it was wrong."

Alex worked his jaw, his uneven breaths the only noise escaping from his gaping mouth.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

The sound of hand meeting raw, red flesh reverberated throughout the car, filling Alex's ears in an endless melody not joined by any other sound except his ragged breathing. The discordant harmony of sobs and smacks, the familiar sound of his voice interspersed with fleshy slaps, didn't ring into the night as expected, and it shook Alex to his core.

Forcing his eyes open, he saw only the fogged-up windows. A jagged spike of loss stabbed his gut. What had he been expecting to see? There was only Alex, and Walter, and Walter's hands. One to soothe, and one to ignite.

What was missing? What more did he want?

"Tell me, Alex," Walter ordered. But he couldn't. He couldn't talk, he couldn't cry. He couldn't do anything but wait for the next blow to land.

He didn't have long to wait.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Walter kept up a steady pattern of swats, peppering his cheeks, his upper thighs, shifting closer to reach his neglected left side until it burned even hotter than his right.

Alex looked at the steamy window again, saw only the grayish hue of heat meeting dark, and another spike of loss jabbed at his wavering consciousness. Where was the red flame? The moist blue?

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Kim. He was looking for Kim.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Kim, standing in the corner, her small clasped hands pressed against her heart. Watching him steadily with sad blue eyes. Not turning away when he reached his lowest ebb.

Accepting him.

He was looking for her, needing her to be here.

"Damn it, Alex, talk!" Walter hissed. "Say something!"

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

The hard, insistent smacks rained down, yet suddenly the conflicted agony in his heart drowned out the blistering ache of his ass.

Kim wasn't here, and Walter was. It was just he and Walter again, like it used to be.

And, for the first time, it wasn't enough.

WHACK!

Alex shattered.

The dam inside him broke, pouring out secrets and sins and terrible, horrible truths. Stealing money for candy from his great-aunt's purse. Beating up Joe Wilson, the class bully, on the playground. Cheating on a history test.

The list went on, the crimes becoming more serious. "I...I hotwired my-my great-aunt's c-car, and...lied about crashing it...I broke into my p-professor's office, and stole a final exam...s-sold it to my classmates...I t-took the money Spender offered me...t-to...t-to spy on...M-Mulder and y-you...m'so sorry, Walter...please..." Alex moaned, his hot, shamed tears freely running down his face.

There was more. So much more. Each one worse than the last. Killing Augustus Cole. The tram operator. Duane Barry. Aiding in Scully's kidnapping. Murdering Bill Mulder in his bathroom. Witnessing the shooting of innocent Melissa Scully. Not stopping Cardinale from slaughtering her like the sacrificial lamb she was. Beating up Walter in a stairwell. Abandoning Mulder in a Russian gulag.

And, finally, his most recent betrayals. "I stalked Kim...so sorry...I s-spied on h-her...I l-lied...t-to you...please...m'so sorry! S-so, so sorry..." he choked.

All of it. Over and over and over, Alex sobbed and pleaded and begged. His taut muscles, locking his position into place for too long, turned to jelly. He sagged against Walter's shoulder, his entire body going limp, feeling nothing but the biting burn of his raw skin.

So lost in his haze of sorrow and pain, Alex was unaware that the spanking had ceased. He melted into the arms wrapping around him, tipping toward Walter eagerly, his body and brain drained and aching. Vaguely, he felt a muscular arm hold him steady around his back as a firm hand disengaged his nerveless legs from the floor well. He buried his face in Walter's neck, crying helplessly, as his lover slowly, carefully, lifted his limp body, twisting him until he rested, face down, across Walter's chest, cradled fully between spread-apart legs. Strong arms folded around him, and held.

His red-hot ass twitched and burned, the pain shooting little sparks into the numb nerve endings of the rest of his body, jolting them back to life. Swimming in a miasma of hurt and regret, Alex could only cry and beg forgiveness.

"M'so sorry, so sorry...please...forgive me...m'sorry, m'sorry...love me...so sorry for everything..." he gasped, great gulps of air healing his ravaged lungs.

"Ssssh, it's okay, sweetheart," Walter whispered, stroking Alex's back, wiping the thin film of sweat from his brow. "I'm right here. It's okay, just let it out."

"H-hurts...I hurt," he hiccupped. "I hurt you and I hurt K-Kim and I hurt myself."

"I know it hurts. I'm right here. It's over, Alex. It's over, and you're forgiven. I love you."

Alex continued crying, his tears drenching Walter's collar, letting the fiery sensation of his reddened bottom center him again. He floated for a long time on the endorphins, gradually sinking into the comfort of Walter's embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Walter. I was bad and I broke the rules and I promise I won't do it again," he murmured. "I love you so much. Please don't hate me."

"No, Alex, I could never hate you. Never. I hate what you did, because you put yourself in danger, but I don't hate you. I love you, sweetheart."

Relief swept through him, leaving him sated in the aftermath. His sobs eventually died down, while Walter continued caressing and soothing him, listening to Alex's promises to obey the rules. To never lie to him again. Woven tenderly between each slowing tear, a deep, gentle voice echoed over and over the two things Alex needed to hear the most. He was loved, and he was forgiven.

"So," Walter said once Alex had quieted back down, a trace of humor in his tone, "you stole money to buy candy?"

"Yeah. Did I really say that?" Alex sniffled against the solid chest. When he hit the juncture where physical pain met emotional torment, what often emerged was pure stream of consciousness.

He could hear the muted smile in Walter's response. "Sure did. Someday I think you're actually going to tell me where Jimmy Hoffa's buried."

Alex snorted a laugh, nestling deeper into Walter's arms. "If I did know, I'm sure I would have told you by now. I can't keep anything from you, at least not for long."

A large hand tenderly brushed his sore butt, the fingertips cool enough to quench some of the hotter spots. "You scared the hell out of me, Alex," Walter whispered. "What happened to you during the spanking? Why couldn't you speak?"

Alex hesitated, the mental image of Kim clenching his stomach. He felt awful for thinking of someone else at that moment. Look at all Walter had done for him. To say that he wasn't enough was a betrayal of the worst kind. But it wasn't worse than lying. And he had just promised not to lie. He shifted against Walter's chest, letting his blistered ass make the decision for him.

"This...this was the first time you've disciplined me alone since Kim came," he said cautiously. "I thought that was what I wanted, but...it felt different without her here. Like something was..."

"Missing?" Walter supplied.

Alex burrowed his head deeper, listening to Walter's strong, steady heartbeat pound against his ear. He was unable to look up and see the hurt that must be in those warm brown eyes. He knew intimately how it felt to come up short, that he wasn't enough to make someone content. "M'sorry, Walter. I do love you, so much, and I..."

Walter stroked his hair, kissing the roots softly. "I'm proud of you, Alex. Admitting you need someone is the hardest thing to say, isn't it?"

"I don't need Kim," he said quickly. "It just felt different, that's all."

A soft smack on his tender butt elicited a startled yelp.

"Didn't we just talk about what kind of trouble comes from lying?" Walter said darkly.

Alex swallowed. "Sorry. I didn't want to make you think it changes the way I feel about you."

The broad chest under him rumbled in a short laugh. "Alex, what do you think I've been trying to explain to you for months?" Walter tilted his chin so they were eye to eye. "That's the way *I* feel about both of you. My loving Kim doesn't change one iota of the love I have for you."

Oh.

Maybe he was a little stoned from the endorphins, but that almost made sense to Alex.

"So...so it's okay to want her here sometimes? To n-need both of you?" he asked, still unsure.

A smile spread across Walter's face. "It's more than okay, sweetheart. It's what I've been hoping would happen for a long time." He stroked the furrow that appeared between Alex's eyebrows. "I think, if you give her a chance, Kim will make you very happy. You've got an enormous heart, Alex, and if you let both Kim and I in, you might be surprised at how good the two of us can make you feel."

"You make me happy, Walter," Alex murmured, preferring to bask in the security and comfort of Walter's embrace, rather than open up this can of worms. He may have wanted Kim there during the discipline, but not now. Now he only wanted Walter.

A quick glance at the still-fogged windows bolstered Alex's courage, and he stole a brief kiss from the curved lips inches from his, as he'd longed to do since entering the alley. To his delighted surprise, the back of his head was grabbed as soon as he began to pull away, and was held in place as Walter's lips parted against his. For long, pleasurable minutes, Alex explored the warm depths of a mouth he knew as well as his own.

They lay there, sprawled awkwardly in the now cool car, kissing and whispering, until the chill in the air sent a fresh wave of goose bumps along Alex's bare ass, and he shivered involuntarily. With a small groan, Walter shifted up from his semi-reclined position against the side window until they were both vertical again, gently assisting Alex so he was resting uncomfortably on his tender butt.

Peering at Alex's face in the dark, Walter frowned, "I think I might have overlooked a minor detail in doing this here. I can drive you home, if you're not up to having dinner."

"Why wouldn't I be? Sitting might be tricky, but honestly, Walter, I...I would like to apologize to Kim." He noted Walter's worried expression, and instinctively wiped his damp face, then dragged his fingers through his hair. "Ah. So, uh, how bad do I look?" he asked, slightly embarrassed at his own vanity.

Walter chuckled, tugging on his wet shirt collar. "No worse than I do, I imagine." He snapped his fingers. "Hang on. I think there might be some things in the trunk to help both of us clean up properly."

As Walter grabbed his overcoat and stepped out of the car to rummage through the trunk, Alex leaned up on his shoulders and gingerly tugged his boxers and pants back over his hips, re-dressing quickly. Using the slim streaks of light emanating from around the lifted trunk hood as a guide, he sat forward to glance at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. His face was puffy, but not nearly as bad as Walter's concern had suggested. The whites of his eyes were another story; they were as red as he assumed his ass was.

After a few minutes, Walter returned with a clean work shirt for himself, and two bottles for Alex. "Kim left her gym bag in the trunk. Maybe these will help."

Alex took the Visine and the other bottle from Walter's outstretched hand, vowing never again to complain about Kim's excessive toiletries. He used the Visine first, since he didn't need instructions on that. Checking the label of the other bottle under the open door light, he read: Skin Kreme with vitamin K. Apparently it reduced signs of bruising, spider veins, rosacea and blotchiness. No clue what rosacea was, but blotchiness fit his current description. Rubbing the cream on his face, he laughed as the scent filled his nose. Walter shot him a puzzled look while he slipped his tie under his new shirt's collar.

"What?"

"Whatever this stuff is, she uses it a lot. Smells like peaches."

Walter joined in on his laughter. "Mmmm...so now you smell like Kim? That's actually pretty sexy."

Alex resisted the impulse to flip him off good-naturedly, instead planting a quick kiss on the warm space between the cotton collar and Walter's earlobe. Between the Kim/peach smell, the cuddling, and watching Walter's boss armor fall back into place, Alex's frozen genitals were beginning to come out of hibernation. "Not half as sexy as you look in that suit. As soon as we get home, that sucker's coming off. And I know just the girl to help me with that task," he grinned as he stepped out of the car and into the alley, stretching his legs gratefully as they both finished getting ready to re-join the rest of the world.

One quick semi-surreptitious glance in the side rearview mirror, which earned Alex a hair ruffle and a deep bark of laughter, and the two men headed back out onto the street. Alex turned and glanced at the alley once they had reached the sidewalk; it no longer seemed as ominous as it had when he arrived. Much of that was due to the change in Walter's demeanor, of course; but Alex knew that his own change in temper played into that, too. Both of them were far more relaxed and jovial than seemed possible, given what had transpired in the Buick. Alex wasn't complaining; he hadn't felt this at ease in weeks.

That ease waned significantly as they approached the restaurant. Over Walter's shoulder, Alex spotted a familiar red head standing under a streetlamp, and his stomach did a short flip-flop as they got closer. Kim didn't see them immediately, since she faced the street, a visible stream of breath flowing quickly out of her mouth. Her left arm was wrapped around her chest tightly, and her right dangled perpendicular to her body, holding something narrow and white between her fingers. Alex was stunned to see it was a cigarette, which she quickly dropped and ground out under her heel as Walter got close enough to catch her attention. Alex deliberately hung back, avoiding her gaze.

"Sorry." She gave a wan smile to Walter, who waggled his finger admonishingly at her. Apparently the fact that Kim smoked on the sly wasn't news to him. "I, ah, didn't expect you this soon."

Walter leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Thought we'd come join you for dinner, if you haven't already finished eating."

"We?" she repeated, her glance sliding away from the man in front of her, and catching sight of Alex lurking in the background. The delighted smile that spread across her face couldn't be for him, he reasoned. Maybe she was drunk.

"Oh, no, we just got seated, finally. I'll go tell the hostess to add two more chairs," Kim continued, starting to walk toward the entrance. She stopped, turning and facing Alex directly. "I'm really glad you changed your mind, Alex. Thank you."

Her blatant sincerity propelled him to action. Better to tell her the truth while she still had positive feelings for him; it might buy him the wiggle room he hadn't had with Walter. "You're welcome. Walter, could you go in and make the arrangements? I'd like to talk to Kim for a minute first."

Ever the diplomat, Walter gave Alex a short nod of comprehension, then squeezed Kim's shoulder lightly. "Don't worry, hon. I've seen pictures of Melanie, so I'll know which one she is. And I'm perfectly capable of introducing myself." The two of them shared a meaning-laden smile, then Walter entered the restaurant.

Once they were alone on the sidewalk, Alex eyed Kim worriedly. She had said she was happy to see him, but her tense body language belied her easy tone of voice. Arms firmly crossed in front of her chest, she trembled once as she looked up at him curiously.

"What did you want to talk to me about, A-Alex?" she asked, her lips shivering as she pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands. The gesture finally clued him into the fact she wasn't wearing her coat. She was cold, he realized with an inward sigh of relief. Not mad.

Quickly, he slid his jacket off his shoulders, and wrapped it around hers. As she slid her arms into the sleeves, smiling gratefully at him, he couldn't help but notice how the leather dwarfed her body, making her appear even smaller than she was. The mental picture Walter had drawn earlier combined with the actual one Alex had viewed as he had followed her, and his guilt returned ten-fold. On the Metro, she hadn't seemed at all afraid, but suddenly Alex understood that her brave front was as false as his had been, in the alley. Maybe they had more in common than he realized.

"Alex?" she prompted. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he answered, his gaze darting from her concerned face to the cigarette smashed on the ground. "I...I didn't know you smoked."

Way to get right to the point, Rico Suave.

Kim gave a guilty little giggle. "I don't, not really. It's, ah, it's been a rough night." She cleared her throat. "A tense trip here, a couple of cocktails, some annoying pests inside, Melanie giving me the third degree...it all added up. You're not going give me grief about it, too, are you? Walter nags me enough when he busts me."

"No, I'll leave you alone. I've been on the receiving end of Walter's lectures enough times to know you don't need my two cents on the dangers of smoking. Between AD Skinner and the Surgeon General, I'm sure you've gotten the message."

They both laughed. Discussing Walter was familiar territory for them, an undeclared safe area of conversation. Alex knew Walter was right earlier, when he suggested that Alex simply talk to Kim. Putting that into action, however, was much harder than it should be. He stared at the crushed cigarette again, his mind's eye seeing a leathery, cold face that had launched a thousand nightmares. For God's sake, what was he so afraid of? He had faced down Old Smokey himself; a slip of a girl like Kim should be no problem whatsoever.

"Aren't you nervous about being out here alone?" he ventured. Closer to what he wanted to say, but still not it. He'd get there, eventually.

Kim shrugged underneath the oversized jacket. "Why would I be? You're here."

On a scale of one to ten on the guilt spectrum, that innocent comment landed Alex at about eleven.

"Besides," she continued sweetly, "Walter always tells me that it's good to face my fears. Did he tell you how I over-reacted tonight?" Alex nodded, but she plowed ahead before he could respond verbally. "I'm sure it was nothing, I was probably just being paranoid--"

"Kim," he interrupted, the still-tingling heat in his ass at last prompting him to face his own fears, "it wasn't nothing. It was me. I...I was following you. I tailed you from work to here, and...and then I sat where you couldn't see me, and I eavesdropped on your conversation. I'm very sorry that you were frightened, I didn't mean for that to happen."

"You?" she asked, the surprise widening her eyes. He watched as she struggled to understand what he was saying. "But...I don't...why did you do that? Why didn't you just..."

"I don't know why. I guess...I didn't understand why you wanted me to come with you tonight. But I did want to come, Kim. I just fuc-, I messed up. I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes, tilting her chin into the lapel of the jacket. "I tried to convince myself I wasn't afraid of the dark, but...you really scared me, Alex," she muttered under her breath. Alex looked the spill of red hair against the black leather, and had a sudden urge to pull her into his embrace, to soothe her fears as Walter did for him. Since he was the source of those fears, it didn't seem like the right approach. Speech was the only resource he had.

"I'm so sorry I did that to you, Kim. I wasn't thinking. But I didn't understand, and then I didn't know where you were going for dinner, so I figured I'd just let you lead me there. Harming you was the last thing on my mind. I would never, ever hurt you..." his voice cracked suddenly, but Alex was determined to finish what he'd started. "I just wouldn't, sweetheart. I know you don't believe me, but I swear I--"

Two small hands suddenly shot out toward Alex's midsection and grabbed fistfuls of his sweater. "Just shut up for a second," Kim hissed, and Alex immediately complied. Looking down at her balled-up hands, frozen against his torso, he couldn't determine if she was planning on gut-punching him or shoving him to the ground. He braced his body for both forms of attack, tightening his stomach muscles and locking his knees into place.

But she didn't do either of those things. She didn't do anything he expected, but on the other hand, she rarely did. What threw off Alex's equilibrium, what drove him crazy and intrigued him relentlessly, was the way Kim Cook never reacted the way he assumed she would. She hadn't flinched the first time he had removed his prosthetic in front of her, she'd spanked him once when he knew she hated it, she stayed and watched him get disciplined when every nuance of her body language screamed, 'don't make me see this', and then, as the latest inexplicable mystery, she'd asked him on a date.

Given all of this, it shouldn't have shocked him as badly as it did when she finally made her move. But it did. Still gripping his sweater in her hands, she leaned forward, lightly thumping her forehead once against his breastbone, then rested her head softly against his chest. Caught completely unprepared, Alex didn't know how to react. Why was she so close to him? Why was she touching him? Did she want him to touch her in response? After telling her what he'd done, did she actually want him to...hug her?

Her voice was muffled, so Alex had to tilt his head down toward hers to catch what she was saying. The tangled scent of peaches and smoke tickled his nose enticingly.

"Sometimes I think I'm never going to understand you," she muttered. "You confuse the hell out of me."

The laugh burst out of him before he could stop it. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Kim tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes bright and glittering.

"I'm serious, Alex. I mean, you act so cold and aloof toward me, and I start to think that it's hopeless and you're never going to..." she sighed and leaned her forehead on his chest again, "and then all of a sudden, you do or say the sweetest things. I just don't get it."

"Kim..." Alex paused, still trying to figure out where to put his hands. Keeping them by his sides didn't seemed like a sweet thing to do, and he liked the idea that Kim thought, even erroneously, that he was sweet. But touching her with his artificial arm was a disturbing notion; he already spent too much time figuring out ways to limit her exposure to it. Finally he brought his real hand to her chin, tilting her face back up in his direction, grateful his ungloved fingers were still warm enough to touch her without making her flinch from the contact.

"You confuse me, too, Kim. I'm sorry if that comes across as coldness...that's not my intention. There are times that I feel thrown off-balance by you, and...I just don't know what to say. So I don't say anything, or I say the wrong thing. Like this morning. I didn't realize that it was a date, I thought you were just being polite, to appease Walter or something."

"Is it really that outrageous to believe I might want to spend time with you, Alex?" she asked.

"Yeah, it is. I'm not an easy person to be around. I have a short temper, and I'm moody, and...and I act like such a jerk to you, I can't understand why you and Walter put up with me--"

"Don't sell yourself short, pal," Kim interrupted. "I think there's plenty of wonderful things about you. Strange and confusing things, but sweet and wonderful nonetheless." At his eye-roll, she said fiercely, "I mean it. Who else would lend me their jacket in the same breath that they tell me they tailed me all evening? Who else would call me sweetheart while trying to convince me they weren't going to hurt me? My God, Alex, you're even wearing the sweater I gave you. You've...you've never worn it before tonight. I figured you didn't like it."

Alex watched as she loosened her death grip on the black wool, keeping her hands against the fabric, not quite pressing hard enough to reach his skin underneath, but not drawing away, either. He didn't recall purposely selecting this particular sweater, but he remembered ripping the tags off vividly, and wondering why he hadn't worn it before. "I like it fine, Kim," he said, his voice a shade huskier than usual. "I wish I could take credit for doing any of that, but honestly, I didn't even realize I'd picked this sweater, or that I'd called you that. Maybe I should let my subconscious do all the work when we're together, since it apparently knows what it's doing better than I do."

"Maybe you should," she agreed, smiling faintly. She gave the sweater a brief glance, fingering the ribbed wool delicately. "This looks very nice on you, by the way. It took me forever to decide between this and another one, but seeing it on you now, I think I made the right choice. You look great in a turtleneck. Very dashing."

"Thanks," he said, feeling his face flush. He wasn't sure what embarrassed him more, that she thought he looked dashing, or the image of her rifling through the store, purposely trying to find him the best gift. Like the idiot he was, he hadn't put any effort into her present. The most he'd done was relent and allow Walter to add his name to a card on one box, and that was only after he'd seen the tag with his name tidily written in her handwriting. Looking back, Alex began to see how many times he'd misread her genuine desire to reach out to him, and what an utter clod he'd been in response. "I promise I'll work on not being so cruel to you from now on. I'm really sorry about everything. I was so stupid tonight, Kim. I didn't think for a second that I was scaring you, or believe me, I wouldn't have done it. I swear, I wouldn't ever--"

"Alex, you don't have to reassure me about that. Let me explain something, okay?" He nodded for her to continue. "I got spooked because I didn't know *who* was following me. I thought it was a stranger, or some psycho roaming the streets. Now that I know it was *you*, I'm not scared, I'm relieved. Admittedly, I'm also a little mad that you did it, but I'm not frightened. I know you wouldn't hurt me. You're just not capable of it."

"How...how can you be so sure? You don't really know me," he argued. The conviction in her voice was alternately moving and unsettling. He hadn't done one thing to deserve the benefit of the doubt that she was granting him.

"No, I don't know all of you yet," she said softly. "But I know enough. Alex, when you get, ah, hot-butted," Kim dropped her voice to a whisper, glancing around furtively to make sure they were alone, "you say a lot of things, stuff that you've done and that you regret. Abusing or terrorizing someone weaker than you isn't among those regrets. And your remorse over Scully's sister...it's the one thing that you always cry hardest over. At first, it was really hard for me to hear all that, and I thought about telling you I couldn't stay as you had asked me, but now I'm glad I do. Being there helps me understand you in a way I think very few people do. I don't know if that's what you intended when you asked me to stay, but it's the main result. The person who did all those things, I thought I knew him, and yes, *that* Alex terrified me. But I was wrong about you, Alex, and I'm sorry for that. What I've learned is that *this* one," she paused to pat his chest gently, "the one who cries so genuinely over his actions, who puts himself through hell to atone for things long past, he's the one I know is the real you. That other one, he's just not who you are anymore, and honestly, I don't know if you ever were that Alex. But he's not my lover. You are. And I'm not afraid of my lover."

Alex was rendered completely speechless.

"Besides," she said more firmly, "if those facts weren't enough to convince me, then all I have to do is look at the rules."

"The rules?" he repeated, still absorbing her previous statements. Kim listened to what he said during his punishments? She stayed because she *wanted* to, not because she was fulfilling an obligation?

"Yes, the rules that you and Walter have. He, ah, when he first told me about your agreement, he explained to me all the rules. He said they were to help you recognize the difference between acceptable and unacceptable behavior."

Alex nodded. "Most of them exist because they're things I used to do, before. I knew they were wrong, even then, but sometimes it's too easy to fall back into bad habits."

"Exactly. And here's the thing: harming a woman, either physically or mentally, isn't in the rules. So that either implies, that one, you hadn't done it before, or two, you didn't need a reminder that it was unacceptable. You already knew it. That's why I'm not afraid of you, Alex. Even if you don't care for me, it's simply not in you to be purposely cruel to me. I may not understand you as well as I'd like, but that much I'm certain of."

In that instant, Alex began to understand what Walter had meant when he said that if he let Kim into his heart, she and Walter could make him feel better than he'd ever dreamed. Between her steady gaze, her gentle touch, and her serious voice, Kim was telling him, in every way she knew how, that she trusted him. No one, outside of Walter Skinner, had ever said that to Alex in his life.

"Thank you," he said simply. "But you're wrong about one thing."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What's that?"

"I do care about you, sweetheart. I'm just not good at expressing that. I'm sorry."

When her eyes filled with tears, Alex had to bite down on his rising panic. Had he messed up again? What had he said wrong this time?

"See," she said thickly, "that's what I'm talking about. Being sweet when I don't expect it, a-and..." she trailed off, clearing her throat and shifting her gaze downwards. "I care about you too, Alex," she whispered.

The last of Alex's trepidations were overwhelmed by the rest of the more powerful emotions simmering through his veins. He didn't worry about his arm, or being in public, or anything at all; the only thing that mattered was that he wanted to hold her. He drew her gently toward him, wrapping his good arm over her shoulder, and placing his plastic hand against the small of her back. When she slid her arms around his waist, and burrowed her head into his chest, Alex knew for the first time what it must feel like to be Walter. Not only as the Walter who provided comfort, but also the Walter who lived with the security and joy of knowing that two people treasured him. The sensation was indescribably...sweet.

They stood like that for countless minutes, Kim's bright hair soft against Alex's down-turned cheek, until her small body rippled against his, a quiet giggle emanating from under the folds of the leather jacket.

"What's so funny?" he asked, tipping his head back up, and hoping she hadn't finally caught the peach scent on his face.

"I just peeked over at the restaurant window. Look at the table at the far left. The short brunette next to Walter is Melanie."

Alex turned his head, and immediately caught the ear-splitting grin on Walter's face, watching the two of them spooning on the sidewalk. His green eyes smiled at the brown ones hidden behind the wirerims, then tracked downward to the petite woman sitting beside Walter. The look on her face was a fifty-fifty split between envy and admiration, as her gaze flitted from Alex, to Kim, to her table companion, then resting finally back on Kim.

{Both?} she mouthed to Kim, who nodded against Alex's chest. Melanie shook her head in disbelief and laughed, before turning her attention back to Walter, mockingly slapping his arm as he grinned at her.

"Maybe we should go join them," Alex suggested.

"In a minute," Kim replied, picking her head from its resting place and stepping away from him slightly. "We still have to talk about how you're going to make it up to me. You did still scare me, even if you didn't mean to, you know. And we didn't talk about the eavesdropping."

Jesus. D�j� vu all over again. Same firmness of voice, same shiver of emptiness, same instantaneous relief/dread stomach churn. The ache of his sore butt, which had been relatively quiet since leaving the alley, suddenly flamed back to life, as Alex shifted uncomfortably, shoving his good hand into his jeans pocket.

Kim had told him, after the tree-pushing incident, that she had given it a lot of thought, and that she wouldn't ever spank him again. She'd said, very definitively in fact, that while she would still stay in the room as long as he wanted her to, she wasn't going to be any more involved than that. Alex had been surprised at the time at his own grudging feelings about her decision. Part of him was relieved; it hadn't been her spanking as much as her willingness to do it that had reduced him to tears. She had barely made his butt tingle, and he'd completely broken down. His exposed weakness had bothered him immensely after it was over; he hadn't been able to look her in the eye for days. But another, larger, part of him was acutely disappointed by her unwillingness to discipline him; until tonight in the alley, he hadn't realized how deeply she had become ingrained into what was supposed to be only between him and Walter. Whether she liked it or not, Kim had become a vital part of their gentlemen's agreement. However, Alex didn't think it wise to inform her of that. He wasn't a complete idiot.

But, if she wasn't going to spank him, then how was she planning on punishing him? Please God, not lines. He loathed writing lines.

"I've already been hot-butted tonight," he said as quietly as possible. Unfortunately, what came out was perilously close to a whine. "I think I learned my lesson about spying and eavesdropping."

Kim's mouth twisted halfway between a smile and a frown. "I figured as much. Your eyes are still kind of red. I'm sorry if that was my fault." She reached a hand up to stroke his cheek comfortingly. "But Walter didn't, ah, you know, for spooking me, did he? Or for being so rude when you turned down my offer of a date?"

"No. I broke some rules, which had nothing to do with you. He was very clear about leaving you out of it. He said that my hurting your feelings was between us, and I should apologize to you directly. Which I did," he finished earnestly, the image of pages and pages of a legal pad, filled with his scrawling handwriting, flipping through his mind. "I'm very sorry, sweetheart."

"It's okay. I know it wasn't intentional, Alex," she said gravely, at the same time as her smile began to widen. "But aren't you even a tiny bit curious to know what I think you should do to make it up to me?"

It slowly dawned on Alex that she was teasing him. Her eyes were beginning to twinkle, as if she was holding back a laugh at some inside joke that she wasn't letting him in on, and a clear note of humor had crept into her tone.

"Sure," he said, getting into the lighthearted moment with her. "What's my punishment?"

Kim waited a dramatic beat before answering.

"Flowers."

If she'd asked him to don a tutu and dance on the surface of the sun, Alex couldn't have been more flabbergasted. On the verge of laughing, he stopped when he realized she meant it.

He had a profound urge for a thimbleful of vodka.

"Flowers?" he queried, hoping mere repetition would help him decode what the word 'flowers' meant in secret girl-language. Did she mean she wanted him to buy her flowers? Grow her a garden? Wear flowered boxers? What the hell did flowers mean?

She openly giggled at his lost expression. "Yeah, flowers. Usually, when a man screws up, he buys flowers for the woman. Or candy, or jewelry if he really blew it, or he takes her to a really nice restaurant." Kim erupted into a full-body shake of laughter. "You should ask Walter his florist's name. For a while there, I think he had a standing weekly order for breaking dates with me."

"He did?" Alex was astonished. Walter had screwed up? With *Kim*?

"Of course he did. He'd get a call from Mulder, and off he'd go, leaving me waiting in front of the theater, or sitting at the table just as our meals arrived. I actually didn't mind those times, because work is work, but he sent such gorgeous bouquets, I didn't say anything. Besides, there were plenty of other times those flowers were the only thing that saved his keister from the doghouse."

The image of Walter Skinner on the phone, frantically placing his order with FTD, make Alex laugh aloud. Having just faced down a disappointed pair of blue eyes himself, Alex could empathize with the big man.

"I...I could do flowers," he said gently, then decided to go for broke. It had been a long, long time since he'd asked this question, but the warm smile on Kim's face made him much more confident than he'd been at fourteen. "Or maybe you'd like to go to the movies with me? Not because I think spending time with you is punishment," he added hastily as the light began to fade from her face. "I meant...I meant that I'd like to ask you out on a date."

See, that wasn't so hard to say, he admonished himself, once he'd recovered from his initial fumble. Not bad for an ex-assassin with a sore ass. Even the Fonz would be impressed.

Kim's smile shone even brighter than it had when she first spotted him behind Walter. "I'd love to, Alex. There's this French film I've been dying to see playing at the art house theater. It's supposed to be really good."

"French?" he bemoaned, only half-joking. "Oh, jeez, subtitles? What about that new Tom Clancy adaptation? I'd rather see that."

Kim cocked her eyebrow, a perfect imitation of Walter just before he lowered the boom. For a brief second, Alex was, once again, a little scared of her. All five-foot-nothing, one hundred-nothing pounds of indignant redheaded female, buried under an avalanche of leather, standing ramrod straight, hands peeking out of too-long sleeves to rest on her hips. The twinkle in her eye, however, destroyed her mini-Walter stance. Plus she just looked so damned cute.

"Alex, when someone is sucking up, that someone does not get a say in what movie they have to watch," she said haughtily.

"How about a Russian film then, instead of French," he negotiated. "I speak Russian." Hell, he didn't care what movie they saw; the appealing prospect of a smiling Kim nestled against him in a darkened movie theater was worth six solid hours of chick flicks.

Her pseudo tough guy persona dissolved in another full-body laugh. "Yeah, I've heard you once or twice," she managed to get out between giggles. "I was going to ask you someday what some of that stuff meant."

Alex had the good grace to blush at her veiled comment. They may be getting along now, but he was not remotely prepared to tell her what he called her and Walter in bed. Not yet, at any rate.

"Fine, fine, French it is," he said lightly, tugging on the open gap of the jacket to head her toward the restaurant. Changing the subject seemed like a smart move. Besides, he was getting cold, and it wouldn't be chivalrous, or sweet, to ask for his coat back. "Let's go in so I can meet your friend."

Walter and Melanie were deep in conversation when the two of them made their way to the table. Walter stood, gracefully helping Kim out of the coat, and cast a quick glance at her glowing face before clapping his hand lightly on Alex's shoulder. 'Good for you', was the unspoken message relayed in the friendly gesture. Or 'I told you so'; either one was appropriate for the situation.

Kim waved a hand from Alex to Melanie. "Melanie, I'd like you to meet Alex," she said, and even he couldn't mistake the pride in her voice. He leaned across the table, and shook the brown-haired woman's hand, feeling pretty damn proud himself.

Melanie's knowing eyes flickered appraisingly from Alex to Walter as everyone sat down, Alex more gingerly than the rest of the table's occupants.

"Damn, Kim," she said once everyone was settled in, Alex and Kim on one side, Walter and Melanie on the other. "Please tell me one of these two has a brother."

Alex shook his head in wonder at Kim's triumphant grin. It struck him at that moment that Kim had probably never drawn a big heart over the "i" in her name. She simply wasn't that kind of girl. She was Kim with a heart, but not Kim- with-a-heart. Girls in general were forever going to remain a mystery to him, but perhaps if he kept that distinction in mind, he had a fighting chance of understanding, at the very least, this girl.

His girl, he started to think, when a small, soft hand crept along his knee, erasing all conscious thought. Alex looked to his right to see a pair of blue eyes blink innocently over a menu, at the exact moment that a large foot, socked and warm, slid seductively up his calf. The pair of bespectacled brown eyes hovering over another menu, gave him a matching innocent blink.

His *lover*, he amended. His lovers. Both of them.

THE END

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