"But there's always something."
 

Janet was deeply involved with her leaking tire. "Is that code for something
kinky?" Mulder asked hopefully.

She snorted into the phone. "No. I stopped by Wal-Mart and bought a tire
gauge. I think I bought a defective tire, so I'm going to check it for a few
days before I go in and threaten Goodyear."

"And I thought I lived life on the edge. Do you want to walk over to the
coffee shop? Unless you want to sit beside your car and take hourly checks."

"Sure. We can go now."

"Meet you outside."
 

Outdoors, Mulder pretended that he wasn't supervising. "Admit it," Janet
said, wiping her fingers off on a tissue, " It's genetic. Males don't think
women can do anything with a car." She dropped the gauge into her shirt
pocket.

Mulder wrinkled his forehead. "Have you actually changed a flat tire?"

"No," she said reluctantly.

"And that would be because."

"Somebody has always taken the tire iron out of my hand and finished. "

"Some man."

"No, actually, three girls going to play church softball changed my tire
once. I must send out waves of incompetence."

Mulder laughed, and they stepped back on the sidewalk to go to the coffee
shop. They had gone around the corner of his apartment building, and she was
telling him about her latest stupid criminal nominee, when a man in a
leather jacket slid between two Dumpsters, and  accosted them.

"Krycek," Mulder said. He stepped away from Janet, his face cold and hard,
and his entire body stiffening.

The other man smiled. "That's not very friendly, Mulder. I came to do you a
favor." He made a slight motion, and Mulder hit him. The two scuffled,
"Krycek" clubbing at Mulder with a stiff left arm, and Mulder getting his
hands around the other man's throat.

The two had moved in their struggles, so that Krycek had Mulder against the
Dumpster, a gun pressed to his neck. "I wanted to give you-" He stopped, as
Janet pressed the end of the tire gauge into the base of his skull.

"Give Mulder the gun," she said. "And don't bump my arm. This thing goes
off-"
But Krycek had silently placed the small gun in Mulder's hand, still pressed
against him.

"Step back to the sidewalk," Mulder told her. He pushed Krycek away. "You
wanted to give me what?" Janet stopped at the street and watched.

"An address," Krycek said. "It's in my pocket."

"Slowly," Mulder said. His voice was cold, but his face was still flushed.
He watched Krycek pull a slip of yellow paper out of his right pocket. For
the first time, Janet realized that Krycek had an artificial left arm. A
one-armed man? I'm with Richard Kimble?

"Drop it on the ground, here. " Mulder said. He put his foot over the
fluttering slip.
"Why-" Janet didn't see any distraction or flicker of Mulder's eyes, but
Krycek must have; he suddenly kicked the gun out of Mulder's hand, knocked
Mulder down, and whirled to run. Janet froze, clutching the tire gauge.
Krycek looked at her hand, and he stilled, an extraordinary expression on
his face, even though Mulder was getting to his feet behind him.

"Be careful, little sister," he said. "Get rid of that. It can be traced."
And he ran, down the alleyway, Mulder after him.  Janet stood and stared,
her mouth open. She bent and picked up the paper; it had a Maryland address.
After a minute, she realized that Mulder wasn't coming back any time in the
next few minutes, and she walked back around Mulder's building and crossed
the street to her apartment.

No wonder Mulder didn't talk about his work; he was right. It was weird shit
no one would believe. Slavic names? One-armed men? Little Sister?  What the
hell was that about?

She had microwaved a tamale dinner and had eaten it before Mulder buzzed
her. (He always tried to use the Close Encounters musical sign.) She hit the
building lock, and went back to the couch. Mulder stomped in, face flushed
and haircut standing on end. He came over and sat next to her.

"Did you get that paper?" he asked, looking tired. "I lost him. " She
pointed to her coffee table, and he picked it up, glancing at the address.
He looked up, and suddenly grinned. "I'll never make fun of your tire gauge
again. " He picked it up from the table with his other hand.

"I thought he would think it was a gun, " she said, narrowing her eyes, "but
he thought it was something else."

"Yeah, he thought it was a pressurized stiletto. Very rare. Only the members
of a certain organization have them. And what was so perfect, was that you
put it exactly," he raised the gauge and put it on the base of her skull,
"here. Instant death."  He put it back on the table. "Priceless."

"Did you hear what he said to me?" she asked. His head came up sharply.

"What?" Mulder barked, all amusement gone. "He didn't know you, did he?"

"No-" she repeated Krycek's words. Mulder sat back, taking her left hand in
his, and tracing the lines in her palm. He blinked, visibly processing the
information.

"You're safe," he said finally, squeezing your hand. "He was waiting for me,
because he knows where I live. He didn't know you." The corner of his mouth
twitched up. "And now he thinks you were a fellow traveler. If he wanted to
do anything to you, he wouldn't have bothered to warn you to get rid of the
stiletto."
He leaned back, beginning to chuckle. "I bet he almost shit when saw that
thing in your hand." He wiped a hand over his face, and sobered. Getting up,
he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and punched a number.

 "It's me. I just saw Krycek. No, he got away. But he left me an
address-yes, I know it could be a trap. That's why I'm calling. Well, I won'
t leave without you. That's why I called. Maryland. Not too far away. I don'
t think there's time to call a team. I'll meet you. I'm leaving." He closed
the phone. "I'm leaving," he repeated to Janet. He seemed defensive, as if
he expected her to argue.

She shrugged, looking up at him from where he stood in front of her. "Scully
's going with you?" He nodded. "Okay, G-man. Have fun in Maryland." She
stood up and put her arms around his neck. "Was I supposed to be crying
here? You seem like you have the situation under control."

Mulder kissed her. "Keep your tire gauge handy," he said, and gently removed
her arms from his neck. "Gotta go."
 

It was hours later. She was lying on her couch, slow tears leaking from her
eyes.  Had she said the right thing? Was this some kind of test? Maybe she
should have acted more concerned. He seemed to expect her to do something
else. "I'm not going to freak out," she said aloud. But oh, God, where was
he?

The phone rang. "Hello?"

"It was an empty house," Mulder said, without preamble. She heard car
noises. "I'll have to run some checks, see who owned it, that kind of thing.
"

"No bodies?"

"Naah, and here was Scully with her bag of saws.  I just dropped her off.
She's getting antsy. If she doesn't get to autopsy something soon---well."
He paused, and she heard the car radio playing Elvis. "I didn't want you to
worry," he said in a slightly different voice.  "I may go on over to Frohike
's place and get him to look at this address."

"Okay," she said, wiping her eyes. "Well, I was just practicing my stiletto
technique. It's been a slow evening." Despite herself, she sniffled.

"Have you got a cold?" he teased. "Or were you watching Shakespeare in Love
again?"

"You--. It's the other way I cope with my flight-or-fight adrenaline rush."

"You weren't worried about me? Not the tough lawyer lady?" He paused again.
"You know, speaking of that adrenaline rush-I think I'll call Frohike about
that address. I'm having a delayed reaction."

She had to laugh. "How close are you?"

"Janet! Oh, you mean in miles?" She hung up on his chortle, and went to wash
the mascara streaks from her face.

"I guess I passed the test," she told her reflection.
 

End.
 

AUTHOR'S NOTES:  All my thanks to Emerex, who helped and encouraged me more
than I can express. She is my Super!Beta.