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  • Title: What He Wanted, More Than Anything Else
  • Archive: Anywhere
  • Author: ServeToResist
  • Description: CSM's failed writing career leads to jealousy, and changes the course of Krycek's career at the Syndicate.
  • Word Count: 500-750 Words

He would never admit it, but he secretly enjoyed listening to the conversations of his operatives.  It gave him a glimpse into their personal lives, and those personal lives were often so normal.  So unlike his own.

Krycek pulled a beat-up notepad from his pocket, talking to Kavanagh, "Yeah, I got another story published.  In Omni."

Lighting another cigarette, he didn't hear what Kavanagh responded.  It didn't matter.  "Alex?"

The young man looked up, "Yeah?"

"I've got an assignment for you."

"What's that, Boss?"

"You're going to be our new inside man at the F.B.I."

"Really?  All right, sure, when do I start?"

He took a draw on his cigarette, wrangling his frustration.  Krycek's aplomb got on his nerves.  "We can't get you past any of the qualifying exams.  You'll have to apply on your own."

Finally, a hint of uncertainty showed, "Do I get an identity?"

"You have an identity, Alex.  We'll provide background check contacts for you, but nothing else."

Krycek's expression held only the scantest trace of disappointment, "I'm to use my own name?  That will make me useless in the future, if my cover is blown."

"We can always invent a new identity for you."

They both knew what that meant.  You can't go back to being who you once were, but you could never escape that persona, either.  The no-man's-land of the operatives who were essentially owned by the Project.  Paid in cash, they lived and died at the discretion of their superiors.  To Krycek's credit, he broke the short silence with words that completely ignored the bleak existence that could be his, "When do I start?"

A file changed hands, "This is your background.  When you know it, then you can apply.  Be sure to avail yourself to our lie-detector trials."

"I already have."

He hid his surprise, lighting his next cigarette with the last of this one.  Krycek's use of the training services had been unreported.  Someone was getting sloppy.  "Very good, Alex.  Be sure to let me know when you submit your application."


This time, the story was in Weird Tales.  Krycek's pen-name, again, in print.  That made five times, now, and he was just out of Quantico.  He tucked away the copy of the magazine in his desk drawer, deciding that the operative had been made to wait long enough.  "Send him in, now," he said into the intercom.

Krycek had changed.  His external appearance was different, of course, to fit the bland and unimaginative world of law enforcement, but his demeanor was different, too.  He'd graduated at the top of his class as Quantico.  If the training academy had a class, he'd taken it.  If there had been a exercise, he'd been there for it.  Even the rules and regulations, which was ironic.  Krycek had never been one for rules.

Krycek had the restraint of a wolf, waiting for just the right moment to take its prey.  He could make something of himself, if given the chance, maybe even become a voting member of the Consortium someday.

"Alex, thank you for coming on such short notice.  We've had a change of plans."

"Yeah?" his coarse voice contained all the calm confidence of a man who knew where he stood in the world.

"Agent Mulder is becoming more of a problem than we expected.  Find a way to work with him, and find out who his information source is."

"He's suspicious of his partners," Krycek answered, displaying unexpected knowledge of the situation.

"You won't be partnered with him.  Find some other way to work with him."

"Very well."


Only a few days later, it happened.  That pen-name, again, an award-winner with a spot in an anthology to be published by Random House next year.  This was intolerable.  A plan begun to form.  The operative was good, but he was only as valuable as his cover.

A flick of his lighter brought a new cigarette to life, and he picked up the phone.

Step 1. Serve
Step 2. Resist from Within

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