'Showdown' Part 2: 'The Spin Cycles'
by Robin
It was maddening. Not only was that over-buffed
buffoon of an Assistant Director looking for him, he was currently
questioning Krycek's new squeeze, Renata, who looked up at Skinner
like a starving man looks at a pork roast dredged in rosemary
and thyme and slow cooked on a spit. Krycek was seething, unseen
in the shadows, wishing he'd been wearing his biker boots when
stomped Skinner's butt in that hospital stairwell.
Renata was many things but she was no squealer - well she didn't
rat people out, anyway. From the looks of it, she was finding
the AD sufficiently tasty to string him along for awhile just
for the pleasure of his company. Krycek frowned slightly as the
woman's hand seemed to disappear into Skinner's pocket. Yup, she'd
keep him there for awhile. Moving stealthily and with as little
lateral movement as possible to mute the annoying creaking sounds
of his leather jacket, Ratboy slipped out the back door of the
bar.
Frustrated by the recent turn of events, Krycek pounded the brick
wall of the alley in frustration. Unfortunately, he used his left
arm which loosened and fell out of his sleeve. Precious minutes
were wasted wriggling like a kootch dancer to get the jacket off
and strapping the arm back on. Krycek sighed.
If it had only been Mulder, he could have thumped him with one
hand but Skinner - that was different. Oh, he'd seen Skinner in
action at Chippendale's all right. The man had more muscles than
San Francisco Bay! And how does he keep that thong in place dancing
like that? The very thought of an encounter with Skinner turned
his blood the consistency, temperature and color of a blended
margarita.
The only thing to do was run - fast! But there was a problem.
No money. He'd have to come up with some cash. The lack of his
left arm had robbed him of his more lucrative skills - cat burglary,
truck driving, sign language interpreter. His one foray into purse
snatching had netted him a total of $13, two Valium (which Renata
stole when she thought he wasn't looking) , a melted Snickers
bar and a bootleg thong picture of Skinner.
It is said some men are born to greatness and others have greatness
thrust upon them. Krycek was neither type. But he did come up
with a decent idea from time to time. If the pathetic old wreck
that sold those photos could make money off them, imagine what
Krycek could do with something more - intimate.
If he could just get a pair of Skinner's briefs - maybe some he
hadn't even washed yet - why he could get a small fortune for
them on the black market! Yes! That was the answer to his problem!
And he thought he'd wasted his money buying the security codes
to Skinner's apartment all those months ago. He'd have to move
quickly. Now was the time to strike, while the AD was simultaneously
fending off Renata's seek and destroy advances and pumping her
- - for information.
Krycek peered up and down the street and spotted the AD's car,
that piece-of-poop Taurus, parked at the corner. The coast was
clear. He strolled over and with a quick movement popped the lock
on the car door. Krycek grinned. This was rich. Steal the AD's
car and steal his panties! Both on the same day! As he pulled
away from the curb, only one thought clouded what could have been
a religous experience. What day *did* Skinner do his laundry anyway...?
To be continued.....