Halrloprillalar   prillalar@gmail.com   http://prillalar.com/

December 5, 1998

RATING: PG13.

FANDOM/SPOILERS: X-Files. No spoilers.

SUMMARY: Mulder/Krycek. Star Trek.

DISTRIBUTION: Archive anywhere. Email forwarding allowed.

DISCLAIMER: CC, 1013, Fox, not me.


O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN
by Halrloprillalar - prillalar@gmail.com

Fox Mulder tugged at his uniform tunic, smoothing it across his
torso. Looking in the mirror, he admired the four pips on the
collar, captain's rank. He clipped his tricorder and phaser at his
waist and satisfied himself that he was ready for the day.

It's a good thing Scully didn't ask what *kind* of convention I was
going to, he thought, grabbing his car keys.

***

Wandering around in the convention centre, Mulder read his program
and pondered the panel discussion on Bajoran religion and the
Cooking with Tribbles seminar. He decided to just cruise the dealer
tables instead. Costumes were everywhere, fantastic Borg and
Cardassian outfits far outshining his basic Starfleet issue.

Mulder thought he spotted a Horta action figure he was missing and
pushed in beside a tall man incongruously dressed in black jeans
and a leather jacket. He heard a soft intake of breath and looked
at the man.

Krycek. With Vulcan ears.

Cognitive dissonance. Mulder went for his gun, only to find it
wasn't there.

"I hope that phaser is set on stun." Krycek flicked his eyes over
Mulder's costume. "Captain."

"Krycek, what are you doing here?" hissed Mulder.

"Even a soldier of fortune has his hobbies, Mulder. Now that we've
met, we can do the convention together. Did you want to go to that
'Grace Lee Whitney Tells All' thing?"

Mulder ground his teeth. "The only place we're going is downtown,
Krycek."

"And how are you going to make me? We're in the middle of a crowded
convention centre, you don't have a gun, and I've been waiting for
this Con for months. Come on, Mulder, we'll hang out. You can
arrest me afterwards."

"My idea of a fun day in fandom didn't include spending it with
you."

Krycek gave him a decidedly un-Vulcan grin. "How else are you going
to keep your eye on me? I'm not leaving before I get a chance to
throw my hotel key at Patrick Stewart."

Mulder stared. "You came to lust after Patrick Stewart?"

"And you didn't? Who were you into, then? Riker or Data? Don't tell
me you have a thing for red-headed doctors."

"Well, Picard was very--I can't believe we are having this
conversation."

"If you really want to get out of here, we could go back to my room
and I'll show you the Vulcan Death Grip." Krycek raised one eyebrow
at Mulder.

"Obviously I missed an episode somewhere."

"Let me enlighten you then." Krycek pulled a fanzine from the table
and flipped it open.

Spock gripped Kirk's shoulder with crushing Vulcan strength, face
darkening with a rush of green blood. "It is illogical for us to
resist what we both want."

Kirk couldn't believe his ears. Could it be Spock felt the same
way? Then they both moved at once, surrendering to the passion as
they locked together in a fierce kiss.

Mulder was surprised. People wrote that stuff? Then he hadn't been
the only one who thought Kirk and Spock...

The dealer spoke up. "Are you going to buy that or just get your
Vulcan drool all over it?"

Krycek handed over a bill. "Captain? I'll buy you a drink at
Rom's." The green eyes sparkled, the black jeans hugged, and the
pointy ears...suited him.

Mulder hesitated. He couldn't let Krycek go and he didn't want to
make a scene. And, dammit, he'd been waiting months for this
convention and Patrick Stewart too.

"OK, Krycek."

After all, Prime Directives were made to be broken.

F I N I S

Halrloprillalar   prillalar@gmail.com   http://prillalar.com/