TITLE: CHICAGO STORIES II: KRYCEK INTERLUDE 3
AUTHOR: WPAdmirer@aol.com 
ARCHIVE: Yes, but please write and tell me where.
CATEGORY: Slash Crossover (XF-ER) Skinner/John Carter, AU (Alternate Universe - cause damnit, I like the beard) 
SPOILERS: None
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: A very annoyed Krycek takes matters into his own hands.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I got tired of waiting for some good John Carter slash, and there's never enough Skinner fic to suit me. The full set of stories
(thus far) can be found at the ER nfic site:
http://www.oocities.org/TelevisionCity/Studio/5437/wpadmirer.htm  and my own site: http://chateauke.simplenet.com/chimerical/chicago/index.htm 
DISCLAIMER: It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or profit from the characters created and owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions or the Fox Network, nor Warner Brothers and NBC.
Skinner and Carter were borrowed temporarily and returned almost immediately. Krycek just keeps showing up, uninvited, damn him.
SPECIAL THANKS: To KiMeriKal and ewade for beta reading and friendship.
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CHICAGO STORIES II: KRYCEK INTERLUDE 3

by WPAdmirer


Krycek wanted to bang his head against the brick wall next to the window. Apparently Walter Skinner had actually managed to fuck his brains out with John Carter earlier in the evening, because he certainly wasn't exhibiting any at the moment.

When Skinner had grabbed Grandpa Carter's arm and stopped him from hitting John, Krycek had gotten excited. He silently rooted for the two men to start swinging at each other. It wouldn't be a contest as to who would win, Skinner was the size of a fucking house. But Krycek was curious to see if the old man fought dirty or not. It had been his experience that rich men tended to be vicious and devious. He'd be willing to bet Grandpa had a few tricks up his sleeve. 

But Skinner had stopped at the urging of John Carter. Fucking
spoil-sport, peacenik, pussy-boy.

Then there'd been the glorious moment when Skinner had pulled his gun. Krycek almost fell through the window in surprise. It was obvious that Skinner had the capacity for violence. The veneer of civilization he wore in the Hoover Building dropped quickly when he was out in the world. Krycek remembered all too well being gut-punched and then handcuffed to a balcony railing in the middle of the damn winter. Skinner was fucking scary at times.

This, though, was wonderful. Then Skinner set the gun on the desk. That was when Krycek started wanting to hit his head on the wall. Skinner had gone on to give Grandpa enough information about him to make destroying his career something that could be taken care of in a ten minute phone call.

Fuck. Shit. Damn fuck-stupid moron. This was not going to be easy to clean up, and Krycek still hadn't had enough to eat for the day. He was beginning to think his next meal would be airplane food on the way back to D.C. If that turned out to be true, he was going to owe some serious fucking hurt on Skinner and his fuck-toy.

Krycek could have lived forever without having to hear toy-boy telling his grandfather he'd finally found someone to love him in Skinner. God, it was enough to make a grown man gag. The only thing lacking had been a hug and a kiss, which thankfully Skinner had spared him of seeing.

Granddad sat for several minutes after they'd left before he picked up the phone. That was Krycek's cue to move. He broke the glass pane over the lock and then opened the window. He came in with his gun pointed right at the senior Carter. The man had the good sense to freeze, receiver in hand, when he saw Krycek enter.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Put the phone down and we'll talk about it." Krycek motioned with the gun.

Robert Carter put the receiver down and sat back in his chair. "You must have something to do with that man."

Krycek grinned. "Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner. Yes, indeed, granddad, I have something to do with him."

Krycek walked over and sat on the side of Robert Carter's desk, bracing one foot against the man's chair so that he couldn't get up or move away. "Okay, here's the deal. I need Skinner in place at the F.B.I. Your grandson is about to be exposed as a closet queer to the world by someone named Dale Edson. This causes both of us problems. For you, the Carter name gets blazed across newspaper headlines in conjunction with this tacky little quasi-scandal. For me, Walter Skinner loses his job, and I'm out a valuable resource in my on-going work."

"I see. So essentially we both need the same thing: to have this mess disappear quietly."

"Essentially. This is my proposal, pops. You don't fuck with Walter Skinner, I take care of your problem."

"And if I'm not willing to acquiesce to your proposal?"

Krycek placed the barrel of the gun against Robert Skinner's forehead, squarely between his eyes. "Then I kill you and take care of Edson."

"You'll never get away with it."

Krycek laughed. "You are such a fucking cliche. I can't get over it." He pressed the gun into the skin. He knew there would be a little bruise there tomorrow, if he didn't actually shoot the arrogant bastard. "I've killed a lot of men before. Men a lot more powerful than you, Carter. So be smart. Do not fuck with me."

"I could say yes...."

"And then make your call when I leave? I don't think so." He smiled. It had been too long since he'd gotten to really mess with someone. This trip was getting his juices flowing. Maybe he should be grateful to the little shit, Edson. It did beat the hell out of sitting in that fucking room and listening to Skinner's boring fucking life.

Krycek put his foot firmly against Robert Carter's chest, holding him in the chair. He set down his gun and took a small vial out of his pocket, popping the top off it as he did. "Pull up your sleeve, show me your wrist."

When Carter didn't respond immediately, Krycek pressed his foot against his chest until he heard his breathing become labored. Slowly Carter pulled up his sleeve, exposing the inside of his wrist. Krycek turned the vial upside down against the skin.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting you under control."

Krycek put the vial back into his pocket. Then he took the Palm Pilot out of another pocket. "Okay, granddad. You have now been infected with a toy of mine. It's called a nanocyte. And this controls it. Well, them. They'll start reproducing soon."

Krycek opened the Palm Pilot and activated the program. Raising the level of nano-machines quickly. In just a minute Robert Carter cried out in pain. The veins in his wrist raised like black snakes beneath his skin. Carter looked up in horror.

"What are you doing?"

"Killing you."

Krycek saw the realization that it was true in Robert Carter's eyes.

"Can you stop it?"

Krycek nodded. He lowered the level and within moments he could see that the pain was lessening. "You don't hold up your end of the bargain, you die. It's very simple."

"Why don't you just kill me?"

"Let's just say, I have a soft spot when it comes to Johnny."

Krycek took his foot from Robert Carter's chest, then turned off the Palm Pilot and returned it to his pocket. Carter was quiet for several minutes.

"You can ensure that Edson's information never gets out?"

"I'm very thorough."

Carter looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I'm sure you are."

"So, we have a deal?"

"All I have to do is leave Walter Skinner alone."

"That's it."

"The bastard stole my grandson from me."

Krycek was silent. The old man really didn't understand jack shit. From what he'd heard through the window, Carter had lost his grandson a long time ago.

"When you're needs are over, I'll pay you a very large sum of money to kill Skinner for me."

Krycek nodded. "I'll be in touch. In the meantime, behave yourself, Gramps."

Krycek went back to the window and climbed out. He took his time. There was no rush. All he had to do now was find Edson.


The End