Another Friday night, another invitation to dance.  They stopped
teasing her after the first four times when she almost exploded.  By
now, it was a weekly ritual.  He would ask her to dance, she'd say
no, he'd call her krasavitsa (which he wouldn't translate), and he'd
leave.  But this night was not destined to remain the same.  Byers
always surreptitiously followed her back to her cabin, making sure of
her safe arrival.  He slipped back against a building as Krycek
stepped out behind Rachel and called to her.

"Krasavitsa."  She spun at the tope of the steps to her porch. 
Seeing who it was, she simply sat on the bench next to her door.  She
made no protest as he came up and sat beside her in the moonlight. 
They didn't look at each other.  It was a moment before she spoke
softly.

"What do you want with me, Krycek?"

"Why do you punish yourself by loving a man who doesn't want you?" 
Byers was almost certain her eyes had sent off sparks in the evening
light.

"How dare you!"  His grin was almost feral.

"But you didn't deny it.  It's why you never dance with me,
krasavitsa.  You can't bear the thought of missing a chance that he'd
ask you to dance."

A short little bark of self-deprecating laughter came from her
throat.  "You don't miss much.  But still, what do you want from me,
Krycek?"  Byers strained to hear the soft voice as Krycek's words
lightly stirred the wisps of hair around her ears as he leaned close
to her.

"I want to put the light back in your eyes, krasavitsa.  I want to
see you smile again for no reason,  I want to crown you with spring
leaves that match your eyes.  I want to see if you dance as
gracefully as you walk.  I want to know how your lips taste, and if
they are as soft as the roses I want to put in your arms.  I want to
hear the ring of your laughter.  I want to see you appreciated the
way you deserve."  He pulled away suddenly and stared out into the
darkness.  "I've watched you for a long time, Rachel.  I know we
could be happy together if you'd let yourself."

She had turned towards him.  Byers especially could have told him
that making someone paranoid wasn't a way into a relationship.  "What
do you mean, you've watched me for a long time?"

"Well…  You were born in Santa Fe, New Mexico and raised in San
Diego, California.  You had a brother who was killed in a car wreck,
and you're part Scottish, Rachel Ann MacGregor.  You only wear black,
but before the Colonization, you preferred to wear yellow and green. 
Fine choices for that copper colored hair of yours, which, by the
way, you always wear in a French braid.  You're 35 years old, no
kids, never married.  You hum folk songs while you work, hate doing
dishes, and love to dance but never do.  Oh, and by the way, you're
in love with that blonde Lone Gunman."

Byers heard the gasp from his hiding place.  "You bastard!"

"Yeah, but you didn't deny it.  So, I have a proposition for you."

"For the third time, what do you want?"

"I told you, I want you.  I want someone who I can have an
intelligent conversation with that isn't waiting for me to shoot
them.  You're beautiful, intelligent, talented, a quick thinker,
strong, and practical while being romantic.  I don't want to see you
waste all that on someone who'll never look at you the way I will."

"And what would I possibly get in return from a traitor and assassin?"

The pause was brief, and Byers chanced a glance.  Krycek had moved
closer and was brushing the hair from her eyes, caressing her face. 
Rachel was frozen like a rabbit on a highway.  "What he can't or
won't ever give you. I want to be the reason you smile again.  You
would get someone who wants to be near you, in the same room that you
are, whose eyes are filled only with you.  I would go to any length
to protect you, and give you all that you deserve.  Except maybe a
Porsche, since those aren't made anymore.  But a home, a family, a
devoted companion, whatever you want.  You can't tell me he'll ever
stare at your mouth and wonder how it tastes, or imagine how soft the
skin on you lower back is, or lose the ability to breathe when you
laugh.  You're not a fool, krasavitsa.  Take my offer, and neither
one of us will be lonely.  I promise."

There was a choked sob as Rachel moved away from him.  "I can't help
but think what your real reason for all this is.  I don't make deals
with the devil."

"Good, because I'm not the devil.  When you agree to dance with me,
I'll know you've made the right choice."

Byers could see the whites of her eyes from his point in the
shadows.  She watched Krycek stand up and walk away, her mouth
slightly open in shock and surprise.  He turned at the bottom of the
steps and looked up at her.  "Oh, and one more thing.  If you dance
with me, there's no going back.  With me, you won't look at the
past.  I can only give you a future."  He turned and disappeared into
the night.  Rachel's voice floated softly into the night, thinking no
one could hear.

"I thought I was supposed to fight the future."

Advice & Picnics