"Mulder finished securing the window, then closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the glass for a moment, feeling the vibrations of the belting snow through the bones of his face as he composed himself. Dusting off his stoic, neutral expression from the mental box he stored it in, Mulder turned, extended mug in hand. 'Coffee?' Krycek, of course, has already helped himself to a cup, and is now sitting in Mulder's chair, feet up on the desk as he idly flipped through the stack of Rorschachs. He looked up at the older man with an amiable smile. 'Hey Mulder. Been a while.'" *Click image to read* * Stories* * Home*