BACCARAT FIGURINES
BY SEAN SPENCER
seans13@hotmail.com
 

CATEGORY:  SRA

RATING: NC-17 (M/M)

SPOILERS:  Colony/End Game and Paperclip

KEYWORDS:  Skinner/Mulder Slash

DISCLAIMER:  Walter Skinner, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are the
intellectual properties of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox
Television.  No copyright infringement is intended or implied in their
use in this work of fiction.

SUMMARY:  Major romance and angst between a closeted AD and a certain
similarly closeted tall Bureau agent.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: There are lots of marriage series of Scully and Mulder
in fan fiction.  This is an attempt at something similar in a
Skinner/Mulder relationship point of view.

WARNING:  This work contains VERY EXPLICIT (no holds barred) but ALWAYS
loving consensual male/male intimacies.  If these offend you, please
DON'T read this story.   Bad words are few and far between, however.

PREMISES NECESSARY BEFORE ENTERING THE BACCARAT FIGURINES UNIVERSE:
1. The vampire encounter in Three definitely never happened.  In the
same vein, Skinner was divorced long before this story.
2. Mulder was assigned to another section of the Bureau and wasn't
Skinner's subordinate when they start their relationship.
3. Scully is very seriously involved with another person but she does
not figure in any of the graphic stuff (because I can't write about
something I know nothing about).  As always, she is Mulder's best
friend.
 
 
 

CHAPTER ONE

ON YOUR MARK...
 

The moment he entered his apartment, Fox Mulder angrily threw his
jacket into the farthest corner.  He slumped onto his couch and rubbed
his face wearily.

Another endless day of wiretap surveillance.  He abhorred it because
the hours of waiting in darkened rooms or concealed vans gave him time
to think.   Lots of time for soul searching about the mess he called
his life.

Scully was gone, two months now. Three times a day, Mulder checked with
the ASAC who was assigned to Scully's case.  He got rolled eyeballs and
whispers, as if finding her wasn't so important for them anymore.
Mulder was aware that the longer Scully was gone, the less chance she
was alive at this point.  It still pissed him off that the other agents
treated Scully's case like it was an ordinary kidnapping, instead of
the kidnapping of a Federal agent that it was.

Mulder's mind filled with unwelcome thoughts of how she must be feeling
now.  She was still alive.  He was certain of that.  But wherever she
was, she must be frightened and terrified.  Even with a tough exterior
like Scully, getting abducted was out of the realm of anyone's
experience.

Aside from worrying unceasingly about his partner, Mulder had unending
troubles at work.  He had been reassigned to the Eyes and Ears section
with a new boss who liked him a lot less than Skinner even on his bad
days.  When he worked on the case with the giant fluke with Skinner
breathing down his neck, Mulder had come close to quitting the Bureau
altogether.  Only the clandestine meetings with Scully sustained him
throughout that trial-filled moment in his life.

Now a few months later, Mulder was aware that he was in the same boat
once again.  And not having Scully by his side, even surreptitiously
like before, made a lot of difference.

The trail leading to his partner was cold by now and no matter how much
he himself had sifted through the evidence, no progress had been made
in the search for Scully.  The impotence and utter helplessness bubbled
out of Mulder at the most inopportune times.  Like today.

The last straw had been AD Ashcraft chewing him out.  Mulder still
hadn't turned in his transcriptions of 48 hours' worth of mindless
conversations of suspects.  Conversations that didn't advance the case
at all.  He had listened to the surveillance tapes and realized that he
was supposed to transcribe all these talk about baseball, basketball,
women, women and women just for the sake of paperwork.  He had quit in
disgust after ten pages.

He reasoned with the AD that his 48 hours of surveillance were useless
but he was constantly rebuffed and told that if he didn’t comply with
the paperwork, he should ship out.  Mulder stalked out of the office
and angrily shoved people blocking his way.   He impulsively left the
building and went home.

Dark thoughts of quitting the Bureau flitted through him.  Maybe once I
know what happened to her, I'll resign, he thought.

Mulder shakily got a drink of water from the sink and sagged back onto
his couch.  He turned on the television but the flickering images
barely registered in his brain.

To top it all off, it was his birthday today but no one remembered.
Childish, he knew, but it just added to his general misery.  His mother
never called anymore even for his birthday, and no one sent a birthday
card.  If Scully were here, she would have remembered.

Everything about today's events overwhelmed him.  He tried to deny the
loneliness and bleakness that yawned before him. He was unsuccessful
with that, too.   Mulder angrily brushed away the tears after
attempting to blink them back unsuccessfully.  One tear escaped and
rolled down his cheek.  It wasn't long before he was sobbing his heart
out.  The last time he wept like this was when he was in a church,
clutching Samantha's picture in his hand.

He didn't know how long he was crying; it seemed to be a long time.  He
heard the phone ring but he didn't answer it, not even bothering to
listen to what the answering machine spewed out. He was just about
finished wallowing in his misery when the doorbell rang.

Mulder blew his nose into his handkerchief and wiped his eyes with his
sleeve.  He looked through the peephole and saw that AD Skinner was at
his door.

"Agent Mulder, I know you're in there," Skinner called through the
door.  "Let me in."

Shit.  The AD had heard him.

Mulder took a deep breath and steeled himself.   He opened the door a
crack then looked at his feet so that Skinner wouldn't see his eyes.

"You left the Hoover in a hurry," Skinner peered in on the gloomy
interiors of Mulder's apartment.  One of the people Mulder had shoved
away in the Hoover hallway was his former AD.

"I'm sorry, sir.  I wasn't feeling well.  I went home."

There was an uncomfortable silence between them.  Skinner reached out
to tip Mulder's chin so that he would see the agent's face but was
startled when Mulder reared off as if struck.

"I'm sorry," Skinner said, with both hands face up to show that he
meant no harm.  "I just wanted to see if you were all right.  It's been
two months since Scully disappeared.  How are you holding up?"

The unexpected question was like a blow to the agent's chest.  It had
been so long since anyone showed some concern for him.

Skinner saw the tear-stained cheeks and reddened, swollen eyes as
Mulder looked up.

"I'm fine," Mulder said curtly.  He tried to shut the door, but
Skinner's foot blocked it.  "If you'll excuse me..."

"Agent Mulder, you look far from all right to me."

The AD's determined voice held a genuine note of concern, something
completely different from the times they dealt with each other at work.
Mulder reluctantly let the AD into the apartment.  Mulder bit his lip,
desperately trying to get a grip on himself.  The AD's uncharacteristic
kind face just added to his turmoil.  With extreme embarrassment,
Mulder found tears rolling down his face in an uncontrollable torrent.

............................

Skinner was appalled with what he had to deal with.  He didn't even
know why he followed the agent home.  All he knew was that Mulder
hadn't seemed right when the agent created havoc in his wake when he
left the Hoover hallway this afternoon.

As he drove to Mulder's apartment, Skinner had the mind to thoroughly
chew out the agent for his behavior.  He had planned a tirade
completely off the record.  He'd already readied a speech about his
former underling's wasted potential, inability to deal with
disciplinary actions and general obstinacy.  He felt it was the only
way to salvage a brilliant agent.  Once at Hegal Place, the AD expected
arrogance and anger from the errant agent, but the sobs he'd heard
through the door and the subdued Mulder who greeted him were totally
unexpected.

The AD patted the agent's back awkwardly.  Mulder was obviously very
depressed and it took more than a minute for him to get his act
together.  Such open displays of distress reminded Skinner of his days
in Vietnam when he himself went through the anguish and terror of
losing one's comrades in arms.  He knew that Scully was basically
Mulder's only close friend in the Bureau.  How close a friend, Skinner
had no idea.

When the worst of it passed, Skinner got up and refreshed Mulder's
water glass and handed it to him.

"Thanks," Mulder mumbled.

"You all right?" Skinner's voice softened.

.............................

Mulder shakily gulped down the water and watched his former AD wander
around until he found the bathroom.  It wouldn't really surprise Mulder
if the whole Bureau heard how Spooky lost it because he couldn't take
what his AD dished out.  The agent tried to summon the more familiar
emotions of anger at being caught like this, like a deer in headlights.
All he felt was empty and tired, all wrung out.

"Here, put this over your eyes."

Mulder looked up at the wet washcloth Skinner held out for him; his
face colored with embarrassment but he took it anyway.

"Agent Mulder, we'll forget this happened.  Just sleep it off.  You
look all done in."

Skinner reached for Mulder's service revolver lying on his desk..
Skinner removed the clip and made sure that the agent saw him put it in
his pocket.  The AD made no move to leave, remaining on the couch an
arms length from him.

"Uhm, I sleep on the couch." Mulder gestured tiredly.  More than
anything, he wanted Skinner out of his way, so he himself could forget
this humiliating display of emotion.

Skinner looked at the agent with irritation.  At least, that look on
the AD's face was familiar to Mulder as the back of his hand.  Skinner
jerked a thumb at the bedroom.

"Agent Mulder, in there." The exasperated tone was another familiar
persona of the AD and Mulder was able to relax.  "Leave the door open."

In the bedroom, Mulder stripped to his shorts and got under the covers.
The cooling washcloth soothed his eyes, which seemed hot to the touch.
Despite his misgivings about falling asleep, Mulder's exhaustion
finally overtook him.

..................................

Skinner occupied himself with Mulder's television and read the various
weird publications that were lying around Mulder's apartment.  He cast
a jaundiced eye on the back issues of the Fortean Times scattered over
the coffee table.

His instincts were right in following the agent home.  No telling what
would have happened if he were a few minutes late.

Mulder was a brilliant agent but extremely volatile.  Being assigned to
surveillance was insulting and a serious blow to the agent's erratic
career in the Bureau, but it was a lot better than going off the deep
end with Scully still missing.  Only the greenest agents were tasked
with what Mulder was doing.

Mulder's personnel file was thicker than most agents' and contained
numerous official reprimands, incident reports and so on.   Skinner was
aware that aside from Scully, Mulder lacked a stable support system.
Skinner had met Mulder's ruthless father a year ago when the agent had
been injured in the line of duty in Raleigh, North Carolina.

The confidential reports of the agent's previous therapy sessions
revealed that he was essentially alone and that his family had
virtually washed their hands of him.  The dry reports of Mulder's
therapy sessions after the John Barnett case years ago already hinted
of his estrangement with his parents.

Mulder, of course, wasn't aware that all these were in his files. Each
of his Bureau superiors was thoroughly briefed by the higher ups in
handling him with kid gloves.  Apparently, there was much interest in
his work beyond the Bureau confines.

Presently, the agent in question could be heard moaning in his sleep.
Skinner stood up and checked on him and found Mulder thrashing in his
bed in the grip of some nightmare.  Skinner was debating on whether he
should wake the agent when Mulder started screaming for someone.
Skinner hurried over to him and to shake the agent from his dreams.

The terrified agent clutched at Skinner's shirt.  The AD almost fell
out of the bed as Mulder's weight overbalanced him.  Mulder was barely
awake.  He still wasn't very lucid, and Skinner whispered to him that
everything was okay.

Mulder was in the half-dreaming state and wasn't aware that he was
starting to kiss a startled Skinner on the mouth.  He also started to
rub his groin against the AD's leg.

"Agent Mulder," Skinner warned.  The AD drew away as Mulder fully
awakened.

"Sir?"

Mulder wondered why his heart was racing.  He was suddenly aware of his
erection straining against the fly of his boxers.  The agent turned red
with embarrassment then hastily placed the sheet over himself.

"You had a nightmare."

"I always have nightmares," was the mumbled retort.

Mulder wished the AD would leave.  What was he doing here anyway?

The AD went out of the room then returned with a small piece of paper.

"I think I'll call it a night, Agent Mulder," Skinner sat on the bed
and handed him the note.  "This is my telephone number at home.   You
can call me anytime if something's troubling you.  I'll call tonight to
make sure you're okay."

"I'll be fine," Mulder grumbled tiredly.

"I have your gun and the clip," Skinner added.  "I'll be the one to
decide when you'll get it back."

Mulder's temper flared for an instant.

"I told you I'll be okay!"

"I'll decide when you get your gun back," Skinner repeated with
finality.  "It won't be in your record, if that's what you're worried
about."

For a minute, Mulder had a lost look on his face, something that tugged
inexplicably at Skinner.

Suddenly, the AD bent down and lightly brushed his lips against
Mulder's cheek.  Skinner felt his face grow hot.  He abruptly turned
around and left the room.

Mulder was too stunned to react.  His hand wandered over to the spot
where Skinner's kiss had landed.  The agent heard the door at his boss'
departure.  He went back to the living room and lay back against the
familiar lumps of his couch.  The sudden emptiness of the apartment
after the AD's flight gnawed at him.

...........................
 

Shit, Walter! What were you thinking?

Skinner went through the motions of leaving Mulder's building as he
berated himself all the way to his car.  Once inside, the AD hit his
bare forehead against the steering wheel several times as the reality
of kissing his former agent finally sunk in.

He reviewed his previous actions.  He handed the piece of paper to the
agent, the one with his phone number.  Mulder's face, however, had
undone him.  The sadness and grief, maybe the aftermath of the
nightmare, or maybe what Mulder truly felt inside, had been stark on
his face.  Skinner desire to comfort the agent had been overwhelming,
and he bestowed the kiss because it was the most expedient way of
providing that comfort.

The AD sorted through his muddled feelings as he drove home.  He would
have to face the consequences if the agent sought to file harassment
charges.  For all he knew, Mulder might have been pining for Scully,
for God's sake.

But Skinner continued his soul-searching.  Was it a fatherly, brotherly
or god forbid, a lover's kiss?  He froze and had to pull to the side of
the road.  With sudden clarity, Skinner recalled that what he felt in
Mulder's apartment was akin to what he used to feel for his ex-wife.

Walter, you need to get a life!

That night, Skinner recalled his promise to the agent that he was going
to call to check up on him.  The AD picked up the phone time and again
without dialing.  However, he reminded himself that Mulder's safety was
of utmost concern, no matter what embarrassment was eating away at
Skinner.   He dialed Mulder's number with resolve.

Mulder sounded subdued.  It was absurd inquiring whether the agent had
eaten or not, but it was the only way Skinner knew how to make sure
that Mulder was at least taking care of himself.

"I'm sorry, Agent Mulder, about...about...the kiss," Skinner stammered.
He couldn't finish the statement.

Unconsciously, Skinner's age-old defense mechanism of taking control of
the situation reasserted itself.

"We'll forget this ever happened, Agent Mulder," Skinner went into his
AD mode.

Mulder agreed vigorously at the other end of the phone, desperate that
everything be the same as it was before.
 

CHAPTER TWO

CABIN HIDEAWAY
 

For a few days, Skinner was actually expecting a call from the OPC.  If
Mulder filed charges, it would be detrimental to both their careers.
Even if Mulder was the innocent party, people's talk would be the main
liability and both of them would be finished in the Bureau.

Skinner frankly thought it was over.  By the second week, not a peep
emerged from the OPC.  Mulder couldn't look him in the eye and blushed
whenever they passed each other in the corridors of the Hoover
Building.   So did Skinner.   By the third week, however, both of them
simply nodded to each other at each hallway encounter, occasionally
punctuated with a curt word of greeting.

AD Ashcraft gossiped to him that Mulder's work continued to be erratic
and still had his usual scrapes with the higher-ups.  Skinner made an
effort to treat Mulder like he did all the other agents, desperately
holding on to the fiction that what happened in Mulder's apartment was
forgotten.

However, Bureau administration transferred Mulder back to Skinner's
supervision, making their office encounters uncomfortable, but civil.

Out of the blue, Scully appeared out of nowhere, and Mulder's energies
were focused on finding her abductors.  The little spare time he had,
Mulder spent at Scully's side.

Skinner managed to nip in the bud Mulder's impulsive bid to resign when
Scully's condition hung in a precarious balance.  To his amazement, the
AD found himself relaying the most traumatic incident of his Vietnam
experience, something even Sharon didn't know about him.

What was it about Mulder that caused Skinner to open up like that?  The
AD convinced himself that he didn't want to lose a valuable agent and
had used all his personal experience to keep Mulder in the Bureau.  In
addition, Mulder was probably the only person who would take his near-
death experience without a blink.

Once Scully's condition improved, it was but proper that Skinner pay a
visit to his former agents.  He was surprised that Mulder really
appreciated the brief visit.  The awkwardness between them finally
vanished, which Skinner attributed to both of them agreeing that it was
water under the bridge.  To Skinner, Mulder's finding Scully merely
confirmed that the petite agent was firmly entrenched in Mulder's
heart.

After a month of physical therapy, Scully was deemed fit to go back to
work.  She didn't even seem to pause, rushing headlong with Mulder in
pursuing more X-file cases the moment she stepped back into the Hoover.

Mulder settled down and with the reinstatement of the X-files, his work
continued to improve, except that his paperwork was still atrocious.
Skinner had to deal with the detritus of mayhem that the X-files team
left willy-nilly in their search for the truth.  When he found himself
yelling at both of them across his desk with both of them squirming in
their seats,  the AD was glad in a perverse kind of way that things
were back to normal.

In other words, these two agents never failed to leave him with a huge
headache.  The economy-sized bottle of Excedrin in his desk drawer was
rapidly put to use once again.

................................
 

Mulder waited uncertainly outside Skinner's house, sweating in the
confines of the car.  It was high summer, exactly six months since
Scully returned from nowhere.  He was nervous at the huge risk he was
about to take.

In the last two months, he'd done as thorough a background check on his
boss as he could without arousing suspicion.  He casually talked with
Kimberly, Skinner's executive assistant, at every opportunity, asking
about her boss' social life.  Mulder found the secretary to be of
little help, because she was as ignorant as he.

Mulder was certain that no wedding ring was on Skinner's left hand.
The agent was sure there was a ring there before, a couple of years
back when Skinner was a newly promoted AD.  Divorce. Kimberly Cooke was
definite about that one detail of Skinner's life.  A year ago, when her
boss had frequent appointments with a prominent divorce attorney.

The agent tensed when he saw Skinner drive up to his garage.   Skinner
appeared tired as he stretched out his back before reaching into the
car for his briefcase.

Mulder got out of his Taurus, actually Scully's Taurus, and sauntered
to catch up with his boss.  He nervously wiped the sweat off his brow,
aware of how much his shirt stuck on his back and under his arms.   It
was one of the hottest days in DC on record.

..............................

Skinner whirled around at the sound of footsteps behind him but relaxed
when he saw Mulder.

"Agent Mulder, I signed the 302," Skinner said wearily.  "You can go
where you want to go.  Phoenix, isn't it?  The 302's filed with
Kimberly; you don’t have to hound me here."

"Good...evening, sir," Mulder stammered. The agent was inexplicably shy
when he was finally in front of the AD, far from the normally brash and
confident Bureau agent.

"Mulder, you could use a drink."  Skinner rolled his eyes and sighed
inwardly at the stuttering younger man. He squinted at the agent,
noting how Mulder appeared as wilted as he felt in the cloying, thick
afternoon heat.  Skinner could feel the torrid temperature radiating
from the sidewalk through the sturdy soles of his shoes.  Eight o'clock
in the evening and the day's heat still hadn't dissipated.  He held
open the kitchen door, giving a vague gesture for Mulder to come in.

Mulder looked around the huge house as Skinner turned on the lights.
He sighed at the more comfortable temperature inside.

"So what will you have?" Skinner asked curtly, too tired to play
gracious host.  He exited the kitchen for a minute, dumping his suit
jacket and briefcase onto the living room sofa.

"Orange juice will be fine...if you have it."

"Orange juice?" Skinner looked up from a near empty refrigerator.  The
AD set out the carton and poured out the glass.  He himself thirstily
guzzled down a beer.

"Okay, what did you do this time?" Skinner held the cool bottle against
his forehead.  Mulder's latest revelations would most likely leave him
with a pounding headache.  He was simply preparing for the onslaught of
bad news from the nervous agent.  "There have been no calls from the
Director, the Attorney General, and the various departments of our
government.  Another unauthorized break-in?  What government facility
this time?"

"Nothing like that, sir." Mulder was taken aback. He had the grace to
sound indignant.  "Scully and I've been good.  Honest.  I mean,
Scully's always good and I...I'm not in any real trouble right now."

"Agent Mulder, why are you here?"

"Sir, what do you think of the Bermuda Triangle?"

For a split second, the AD thought the agent had indeed gone the deep
end.  His eyes narrowed.  Was Mulder flirting with him?  This wasn't
the first time Skinner encountered flirtatious agents.  Some of the
female agents were downright aggressive the moment he decided to forgo
his wedding ring, and even one or two male agents.  It was part and
parcel of supervising people in the pressure cooker of the Bureau.

He tolerated Mulder's small talk, waxing enthusiastic about the Bermuda
Triangle, as Skinner prepared a spaghetti dinner.  Skinner was
uncertain as to how to handle this.  Mulder was his subordinate with
the X-files reopened a few months ago.  He had to be careful.

Without having to ask Mulder, Skinner set the table for two, correctly
deducing that the agent was hungry.  They ate in companionable silence.
At the end of the meal, Skinner rooted around in the freezer and found
some leftover chocolate ice cream.  He handed the carton to Mulder, who
gobbled down the month-old dessert.

"Sir, I'm sorry about, you know...last time," Mulder began with an
uncertain tone in his voice as he helped Skinner clear away the dinner
things.  "I--I was...down and I really didn't know how to handle it."

The AD froze.  Was Mulder referring to Skinner's timely visit to his
apartment all those months ago and the kiss?

"No, no, Agent Mulder," It was time to let it all hang out in the open.
"I should be the one to apologize.  I shouldn't have kissed you.  I
shouldn't have told you to forget about it.  It is tantamount to
harassment.  If you're still uncomfortable with what happened, I
suggest you file charges against me.  It's the right thing to do."

"Sir, I never thought of filing charges about that!  It was just a
kiss, for Christ's sake!"

"Then can you explain what you mean?  I don't get it, Mulder." Skinner
felt his face reddening and his temper starting to flare.  A hot summer
night wasn't the time to deal with MulderRiddles.

"Okay..." the agent began with a big intake of breath.  "I want to know
if we could see each other away from work...away from the
office...socially...That is, if it's all right with you..."

The agent's voice trailed off. Despite the narrow confines around the
sink, neither of them had touched the other as they rinsed off the
dishes.

Was he serious? Skinner craned his neck to look at Mulder's profile.
Socially?

The agent was rinsing off his own plate with utter concentration but
his ears were pink.

"Follow me, please."  Skinner gave a big sigh.  He dried his hands on a
dishtowel then went to the living room.  He pointed to the couch and
sat across from Mulder.  The younger man's expression scowled as the
fear of rejection darkened his expression.

"Fox," Skinner began, using the agent's first name so that it was clear
that he was speaking not as his boss. Mulder was certainly intelligent
enough to realize what he was getting himself into, even if only on an
intellectual level.  "Please listen.  Fox, the last time I was with a
man was in the Marines.  It...it was a period of experimentation in my
life.  Before that...two kids in high school...you know, high school
kids stuff.

"At my age, with a divorce behind me, those days of experimentation are
definitely over, Fox," Skinner continued.  He wasn't aware that he was
mumbling.  Skinner couldn't believe he was telling Mulder this.  Then
as he continued to talk, the more he wanted Mulder to know what was on
his mind.  "I can't deny that I... kissed you months ago.  I don't know
what I felt at the time.  I want you to know that this will be no
experiment.

"Once we start with this we can't do certain things, heck, we can't do
most things together because of our work.  I might be accused of taking
advantage of you.  Once anyone gets wind of this, even Scully, it's
over for both of our careers and you know how that is important for
each of us.  As your boss, there will be times when you deserve a kick
in the butt, but I don't know if you can take it on a nonpersonal
level."

Skinner held up his hand to stop Mulder whose mouth had opened to give
his side.

"I do really want to give it a try but I just want you to know that
each of us can lose a great deal if we do this the wrong way.  You're
very sweet and forthright but you do have the tendency to feel your
emotions too much when things go wrong.  I just don't know if you'll be
able to take it if everything literally falls apart on us," Skinner
finished.

He looked away from the agent, preferring to focus his attention on a
horrendous statue on the mantle piece that Sharon, his ex-wife had so
generously left him.  The last time he had talked to someone about his
feelings was with Mulder, when he'd related the traumatic events of
Vietnam and talked about the fear of the unknown.  Skinner felt like he
was in freefall, akin to the parachute jumps he had to undergo at
bootcamp.

What was it about the agent that caused him to open up like this?  Men
didn't go around baring their feelings for one another!  Skinner
cleared his throat and glanced uncertainly at the younger man for a
second, before looking away again.

"I've thought about it since you rejected my resignation letter when
Scully came back," Mulder said.  "I've thought about it a lot.  I've
even tried dating again but it just pales in comparison to what I felt
when I was with you, sir.  I really felt...safe when you were with me.

"I'm willing to risk everything just so that we'll be together.  I know
it sounds trite and cliched but I truly feel that way.  I'm not some
dumb teenager who doesn't know any better."

Skinner then set absolutely strict guidelines and Mulder listened with
growing dismay.  He said that they were never to see each other in the
city, not in Mulder's apartment or Skinner's house or anywhere like
restaurants, malls and the like.  Seeing each other on weekdays was a
no-no, too.  Phone calls were to be kept to a minimum, but after office
hours, they could call each other and only at home.  Promiscuity will
not be tolerated because such behavior was too risky, whether socially
or medically.   Skinner made sure that Mulder knew that although he had
been married and divorced, he never ran around with women and that it
wasn't in his nature to run around with men either and that the agent
should do the same thing.  He asked for Mulder's HIV status and he
volunteered his own.

"When do we get to see each other?" Mulder asked in befuddlement.  His
head reeled with all the restrictions Skinner was proposing.

How can Skinner make such demands on him, when they still hadn't
started anything between them?  Talk about planning ahead!  At the same
time, conflicting emotions ran through him.  Did Skinner mean that this
wasn't a one-time, one night stand kind of thing?  That the older man
wanted him as much as Mulder did?  Why did he feel pleased with Skinner
making his intentions so clear?  In the back of his mind, Mulder
admitted that as usual, Skinner made perfect sense.  The older man did
not seem to have one impulsive bone in his body.

"I have a lakeside cabin an hour's drive from here."

"Let's go to the lake now," Skinner stood up.  "I assume you have some
clothes ready in your car?  Uh...that is, if you want to...go with
me...?"

"Like on a date?"

Skinner looked up startled.  He shrugged sheepishly, suddenly aware of
how he had rambled on about a relationship that didn't exist as of yet.
He kicked himself for assuming too much.

Mulder grinned mischievously as he nodded.  It might not be so bad
after all.  It was definitely attractive to hear Skinner's own voice
trail off into sudden shyness, the fear of rejection as clear as day.

Skinner packed his usual weekend gear.  Then they stowed Scully's
Taurus in Skinner's huge garage.  Mulder liked the shiny Range Rover
Skinner used for trips to the country.

"Hey, can I drive?"

"Uh-uh, we'll get there faster with me at the wheel."  Skinner hoped to
God that they were starting something that would be good for both of
them.

As expected, Mulder fell asleep in the four-wheel vehicle as they made
good time on the expressway.  It was already ten at night.   Skinner
knew that Mulder and Scully just came from Arkansas on a case.  The
agent was understandably tired.  At first, the agent's head lolled by
the window but that was dangerous and uncomfortable.  So Skinner pulled
Mulder to him and the agent's head created a pleasant weight on his
shoulder.  Skinner sniffed and couldn't believe that Mulder's shampoo
smelled like Ivory.  He almost laughed out loud.

All through the drive, Skinner tried to dismiss any more reservations
he had about this.  He'd never done anything so rash and unplanned like
this in his whole life.  From the moment he followed Mulder home six
months ago, to that brief kiss, to the spaghetti dinner in his kitchen;
these did not suggest the actions of the rational man he used to be.

Maybe because of the late night or the result of the tension, Skinner
was able to get to the cabin in forty-five minutes.  He gently shook
Mulder awake and the agent blinked, his eyes widening when he saw the
cabin.

"Shit, Walter," Mulder remarked.  Skinner was strangely pleased by
Mulder's use of his first name. "When you said cabin, I was thinking
along the lines of logs and outhouses."

The house had sleek modern lines and to Mulder seemed as huge as
Skinner's house in the DC suburb.  He wondered where Skinner's obvious
wealth came from.  Certainly one cannot create a comfortable nest egg
on a Bureau salary, even with an AD grade.

"Uhm, sir?  This is nice."

"I thought you're not supposed to call me sir, especially out here?"
Skinner teased.  He couldn't believe how easy it was to joke with the
agent.  "Mom died two years ago and left it all to me.  I try to go
here every weekend when I can."

"Living room, dining room, kitchen, back porch out there, bathroom,"
Skinner enumerated as they went through the first floor.  Mulder
hesitated for a second before following the older man up the stairs.
"There are two bedrooms, bathroom in between.  Sorry, no outhouse, but
if you're so inclined, the whole backyard can take it."

Now it was Skinner's turn to pause uncertainly between the two
bedrooms.  He looked cautiously at Mulder, quite aware that his face
and probably his baldhead were reddening.

"Uh, you can stow your gear in either of the two bedrooms." Coward,
jeered Skinner's inner voice.  But then again, he wanted Mulder to
decide for himself how fast things were going to happen.

......................

Mulder knew he was at a crucial point in this budding relationship, if
you can call it that at this point.  He was nervous, too, as nervous as
Skinner appeared.  What the heck, he told himself.  Why should he fool
himself as to what he truly wanted?

He strode purposefully into the master bedroom and dropped his bag by
the king-size bed.  It was as though both of them released the breath
they were holding at the same time.

........................

The moment he emerged from the bathroom in his briefs, the AD found
Mulder sitting on the edge of the bed.  The agent was still fully
dressed and was looking expectantly at him.

"Aw, Fox," Skinner muttered. "Don't expect anything to happen tonight.
You have dark rings under your eyes and I'm bushed, too.  Just get into
bed."

Mulder grinned and took his turn in the bathroom.  When he emerged in
his undershorts, Skinner patted the bed and Mulder slipped in beside
him.  The AD was startled when Mulder easily curled up in his arms and
gave a contented sigh.

Skinner kept still for a while, amazed that Mulder, this normally
prickly man could so easily snuggle up to him.  The agent was snoring
lightly in a few seconds.

Skinner watched the late night news, his bedtime ritual.  He found
Mulder to be a cuddler.  In his sleep, Mulder burrowed his way until
his head rested on Skinner's chest.  Skinner smelled his velvety skin
and underneath the sweat, Mulder had that Ivory soap scent; when
Skinner sniffed his hair, again the Ivory shampoo.  He shook his head
in disbelief and concentrated on the news.

Just before Skinner turned in, he had to chuckle.  What he had thought
of as the restrained print on Mulder's navy boxers turned out to be
flying saucers.  He lightly kissed the younger man's cheek just before
he turned off the light.
 
 

CHAPTER THREE

PETAL PLUCKING
 

Skinner woke up before Mulder.  The AD found he liked watching Mulder
in his sleep.  The agent looked younger and more carefree as he
slumbered.  Cautiously, so as not to jostle the sleeping agent, Skinner
reached for his glasses at the nightstand and put them on.

Mulder had his arm thrown above his head and one leg was slightly
raised.  There wasn't much hair on the younger man's body, just a
smattering on the chest, under the arms and a thin trail disappearing
into the boxers.  The underwear Mulder wore gaped at the fly giving
Skinner an idea of what the agent had down there.

God, I'm taking a peek up my own agent!  Skinner suddenly remembered
that this was Mulder.  And he recalled how this agent had a tendency to
go headlong into situations.  The AD had to make sure this wasn't one
of those situations where he'd like to back out from once he thought
about it long enough.

"Fox," Skinner patted Mulder's arm gently to wake him.

Mulder's eyes fluttered open and he looked around for a second.

"Was I having a nightmare again?" Mulder mumbled, rubbing his face.

"No. Just wanted to make sure you're still okay with this."

"Wait a sec."  Mulder ran a hand over his mouth, looking around him
with expressionless eyes.

Mulder rolled out of bed and closed the bathroom door behind him.
Skinner felt something grow cold inside him.  Maybe this was all a huge
mistake.  At least, he gave Mulder a chance to back out before anything
serious happened.

Once the sound of running water ceased, Skinner braced himself for
Mulder's flight.  Maybe the agent's head cleared through the night and
he was now realizing what a foolish thing he was getting into with a
man.  Not just a man. An older man.  An older man who was his boss.

To Skinner's surprise, the agent came back into the room and slipped
back into bed.

"Now, I'm okay with this."

Mulder had the distinct minty odor of toothpaste and mouthwash.

"I brushed my teeth...morning breath, you know," Mulder explained
lamely.

It finally dawned on Skinner that last night's brief discussion hadn't
touched on one crucial point.

"Fox, have you been with other men before?"

"No."

It was Skinner's turn to balk.  He almost jumped out of bed.

"Jesus, Mulder, is this an experiment?" Skinner grew angry.  "Were you
planning to see if this would work and then if it didn't, you'd leave?
Is this something you're doing for curiosity's sake?  Jesus!"

"What I said was true," Mulder sought to perform damage control.  "I
never tried it before and I can't deny that I'm not curious, but it's
not any man I want.  It's you I want.

"Can you please calm down, sir?"

It seemed they easily reverted to office mode.

"You didn't ask back in Alexandria," Mulder continued patiently.  "I
thought you knew."

Skinner counted to ten and waited.  He was too far out of the dating
game lately and he'd been caught by surprise.  Hell, this wasn't even
the dating game.  A sexual liaison with another man, a subordinate,
carried double or triples the risk, emotional, physical and societal,
of a similar encounter with a woman.

"So you've never had sex with a man before?" Skinner felt he was
interrogating a suspect, his voice roughened by anxiety.

"No...I mean, yes! I've never had sex with a man."

"Women?"

"Yes!  What do you think of me?"  An indignant tone.

"How far have you ever gone with a man?"  Skinner's tone softened.

"One kiss, up in Oxford.  We were kids."

"Anything else?"

"Animals?" Mulder frowned in puzzlement. "I'm not that perverted."

"NO! I mean, nothing more with men, boys?"

"I told you!  That kid at university!"

"Why didn't it go beyond that?"

"I discovered women, okay?" Mulder sat up in bed. "What?  Do you expect
me to kiss and tell?  How about how many women?  Three!"

"Sorry, Fox," Skinner sighed, getting up from the bed.  "Let me think
about this.  Just wait here."

............................
 

Why's he so touchy? Mulder asked himself.  He waited for Skinner to
finish up in the bathroom.  The prospect of rejection was back, making
his stomach clench uncomfortably.  For a minute there, it felt like
they were back in the Hoover, with that large desk separating them.

"Sorry."  Skinner stood at the bathroom door.  "I'm sorry, Fox.  I
guess I assumed wrong. "

"What did you think anyway?"

"It was you who went to my place," Skinner said dryly.  "I assumed you
were...more experienced.  I took it at face value.  But with you, I
don't know what to think anymore."

"Maybe I should go," Mulder mumbled.  He rose to leave but Skinner
pushed him back down onto the bed.

"We'll just have to do this slowly, won't we?"

The AD's abrupt change in mood and husky voice surprised the agent.
Mulder actually gulped.  He found himself unable to move all of a
sudden.

The older man ran a finger down Mulder's chest.  Then it wandered up to
the younger man's collarbone, just where the smooth skin merged with
the light dusting of hair on the agent's chest.  Skinner smiled when
Mulder's Adam's apple bobbed nervously.

"You okay with this...Fox?"  This time, Mulder was breathing more
deeply as he realized they were finally going to do what they came here
for.

"Fox?"

"Huh?" Mulder licked his lips.  He could feel Skinner's light touch on
his right nipple.  Despite everything, Mulder gasped at the unfamiliar
sensation.  Skinner knew exactly how to stimulate his flat male nipple
with just the right brush of fingernail.

..............................
 

When Skinner's head cleared in the bathroom a few minutes ago, he
grasped the concept that Mulder had actually sought him out to be with
him, all the while never having had a relationship with a man.  So he
was going to be Mulder's first and he better make it unforgettable for
the younger man.   It was a heady thought for the AD.

He softly kissed Mulder once, then twice, with a bit of tongue, enough
to tantalize.  Mulder's eyes had gone as big as saucers as the AD
leaned towards him, but later he shut his eyes as he savored the light
kisses.

Skinner tugged down those crazy boxers.  Mulder abruptly reddened; he
grew so hard so fast.  Skinner reached down but Mulder's hips skittered
in his nervousness.  In the back of Mulder's mind, full realization of
what was happening was slowly being filed away.

Was it like this between men, hardly any preliminaries and quite
straight to the point? Mulder wondered.

"Sssh...nice," Skinner murmured appreciatively.  He gently took
Mulder's erection in hand and stroked it, once, twice then thrice to
full hardness.

Everything was still so new and they weren't aware of each other's
cues.  Skinner was too busy looking that he wasn't able to accurately
gauge the intensity of Mulder's gasps.  He was also too busy thinking
how a some slick lubricant in hand would do wonders for Mulder, making
do with the fluid seeping from the tip.

Both of them were surprised when the AD's hand, then Mulder's stomach
became splashed with the hot and wet.

"Shit, sorry," Mulder groaned in dismay.

"Hey, hey," Skinner grabbed him before the agent could leave the bed.
Inwardly, the AD cursed himself for stimulating Mulder too much.  This
wasn't going the way he wanted at all.  "It's okay...it's all right."

"I'm sorry, I'm not normally...it's not like this..."

"Fox, don't apologize.  It's fine."  It must have been quite a while
since the agent had sex, gauging from the volume of Mulder's come.
Maybe even longer than when he himself last had sex.  Skinner leaned
forward to kiss the agent once again.

Premature ejaculation had its own certain charm.

............................
 

At first, Mulder was stiff with disappointment and embarrassment.  In
the short span of time since they started doing something about being
in bed together, everything that could go wrong did go wrong, starting
with misconceptions about each other then ending so abruptly.  His
first instinct was to get out of bed and flee with a red face into the
bathroom.   But Skinner held him down and Mulder learned how good  it
was to be enclasped in the bigger man's embrace.

Skinner resumed intense open-mouthed kisses and Mulder lost all
concerns about what had happened: of the anxiety of inexperience, of
the small pool of cooling semen on his abdomen, of whether any of this
was good for Skinner.

Mulder released an involuntary moan between their locked lips and found
himself placing Skinner's hand back onto him.

"You sure?" Skinner murmured. Was it possible for Mulder to be so ready
so rapidly?

"Yes," was the insistent answer.

"Okay, lie back and let me do the work."

"What about you?"  Mulder was glassy-eyed with desire, his already full
lower lip much more swollen from deep kissing.  He reached for the
waistband of Skinner's briefs, becoming aware of the considerable bulge
the older man was sporting underneath the cotton.

Skinner lightly swatted Mulder's hand away from him.  "Fox, you
listening to me?"

"Yes, sir, I mean, Walter."

.........................

Skinner marveled that the agent seemed totally relaxed and trusted him.
He knew that Mulder found it difficult to trust people and Skinner was
frankly flattered.  He continued massaging the younger man's lithe and
supple body.  There was the long scar down one thigh from the gunshot
he sustained in Raleigh during the Bogg's case.

The massaging seemed to calm down the agent but he was going crazy
since Skinner seemed to be going everywhere, even to the soles of his
feet, except where Mulder so desperately wanted him.  Occasionally,
Skinner teased a bit and stroked Mulder's penis, which had grown to
full erection again even with scant attention.

Mulder willed himself to breathe deeply as sensory overload threatened
to overwhelm him again.  It had been so long since anyone stroked him
all over so kindly and gently.  God, how he needed this.  Skinner's
fingers ever so lightly running over his skin awakened nerves over
every inch of him, nerves he'd thought grown dormant with nonuse.  He'd
thought Skinner would be rougher, being a man.

Part of his apprehension over this whole crazy thing he'd decided on
was the idea that he would find Skinner too rough and too strong.
Mulder found himself sighing and arching his back as Skinner caressed
him between his shoulder blades.  Being the recipient of all this
petting was nothing like he'd ever had with women.  From what he could
feel, Skinner was giving him options throughout to back off if he
wanted.

Everything was going too fast, but Mulder knew it was what he wanted.
Never in his wildest dreams did he think he was ever going to push
through with being naked in bed with a man, with Skinner.  He thought
Skinner would be more conservative.

As Skinner concentrated on his buttocks, Mulder tensed then held his
breath.

"Come on, Fox, lie down on your side." Skinner saw the brief flicker of
apprehension.  "Fox, we won't...I won't...we stop if you feel
uncomfortable, that's a promise.   I won't...put myself...inside you.
You're not ready.  Just my finger, if it's okay?"

Skinner massaged Mulder's buttocks and occasionally flitted his hand
between the cheeks.  Mulder didn't know that this could be so
maddening.  The agent started to thrust his buttocks backward against
Skinner's hands.

"Honey, I just want you to concentrate on the new feelings," Skinner
growled to keep his own urges in check.  He held his index finger at
the entrance of Mulder's tight orifice and rubbed his finger in a
circle.

"On your back, buddy, it's easier."  Mulder hazily complied.  Except
for his heavy breathing, Mulder was uncharacteristically quiet.
Skinner hoped it meant all this was fine with the agent.  Skinner
placed a pillow beneath Mulder's hips and told him to put his knees to
his chest.  The sight of Mulder so relaxed and sexually aroused with
his renewed erection on his belly was something that Skinner would
treasure forever.   Mulder writhed as Skinner's other hand knowingly
stroked his penis.

"Push against my finger, Fox," Skinner instructed.

Mulder was nervous as he did what Skinner said.  But his eyes
transformed when the AD's lubricated finger went up his tight anus.
Mulder gasped at the unfamiliar sensation.

"I feel like I'm going to take a dump," Mulder gasped suddenly as
Skinner's thick index finger went beyond the ring of his sphincters.
It was the least appropriate thing to say in bed but the sensations
caught him off guard.  He tensed up, causing an almost painful grasp on
Skinner's finger.

"Ssh, baby, it'll pass.  Just let the pleasure flow through you,"
Skinner reassured him.  "Baby, I'll keep my finger there a while so
you'll get used to it."

................................

The feeling of creating a mess passed and when Skinner felt Mulder's
pelvis relax against his hand, he started a slow rhythmic in and out
motion, making sure he kept up the penile stimulation with his other
hand.

The new unfamiliar stretching of his anal tract was starting to
embarrass the agent due to its intensity.  Mulder tried to cover his
face with a pillow as occasional involuntary grunts escaped from his
lips.   It was starting to feel really good, especially when Skinner's
slick finger went in and out.  Mulder's hips started rocking
instinctively on the pillow while Skinner's other hand steadied his
hips briefly, caressing the smooth skin between torso and thigh.

Skinner tugged the pillow from Mulder's face.

"I want to see your face," he murmured.  Mulder was turning red from
arousal.   "Let me hear how good it feels for you.  Come on, don't
worry, no one will hear.  It's just us here."

Mulder started moaning much louder, much to Skinner's gratification.
Mulder's face was caught in a grimace and his mouth was open as loud
pants emitted from his parted lips.  He never made sounds as loud as
these before when he had sex with a woman.  With women, he was always
so concerned with pleasing them, but the AD was bent on pleasing just
him and not expecting anything in return.

Everything felt so much more intense and dangerous.  Mulder grabbed the
AD and held onto his arm, totally forgetting to ask that his penis be
caressed.  Mulder put his knees up to his chest to urge the older man's
finger deeper into him, his back arching on the bed, his erection
moistened at its tip.

More heavy grunts and moans and sighs came deep from Mulder's chest as
Skinner's penetrating finger continued its maddening rhythm.

"I never knew it could feel so good down there," Mulder managed to gasp
out.  He couldn't believe he was on his back with his legs up to his
chest, showing Skinner every vulnerable inch of him.  Not just showing,
but offering.

In that instant, Mulder comprehended the idea of sexual surrender.

Mulder's agile mind stored this nugget away for future contemplation.
Right now, he was fully engrossed in rocking his hips more vigorously
as his excitement grew, his hips rising higher from the pillow.  He
gave a hiss of extreme surprise as Skinner traced a finger over the
sensitive gland.  With the older man's other hand on his shaft, Mulder
writhed at the unexpected sensation.

"Feel good?"

Mulder almost screamed.  The small electric jolt seemed to emanate from
the base of his penis.  The AD touched him again in that special way
and Mulder felt the warmth beginning to travel down his body, down both
legs, causing his toes to curl in pleasure.

"Yes, sir!" the agent moaned.  A layer of sweat covered his body.  The
new sensations were different from anything he'd experienced before,
yet wonderfully visceral.  Although he was already hard, Skinner's
touch on that special place seemed to make him even bigger; he vaguely
felt his penis twitching of its own accord.  It was like Skinner
caressing his whole penis.  Mulder rocked his pelvis some more, his
bent thighs brushing against his engorged member.

Skinner increased the pace of stimulation.  When he withdrew his
finger, Mulder made a disappointed noise but Skinner added more
lubricant.  Skinner noted with satisfaction that the agent's orifice
was more open now.  He whispered to the agent again.

"I'm going to insert a second finger now, Fox, honey," Skinner said.
"Just push down... there...good."

Mulder was too far gone now as his perceptions narrowed to his nether
region.  He bucked against Skinner's hand and tried to take more of
Skinner's thick fingers.  He never knew that feeling so gently
stretched by the older man's fingers could make him this way.  He felt
like he was on fire with his whole penis the white-hot point of
incandescence, inside and out.

"All for you, Fox," the AD murmured while his other hand continued
masturbating the agent. The agent was close, emitting guttural sounds
and his scrotum tightening up against his body.  Mulder's orgasm was
another fount of copious ropy semen onto Skinner's hand as Mulder's
sphincters tightened on his fingers.

Mulder was too stunned as he blankly looked at the ceiling as his body
quieted down.  He cuddled next to Skinner after a few seconds, gasps
slowing down to deep breathing.

As Mulder's body stopped trembling, Skinner stiffly went to the
bathroom and washed his hands.  He ignored his own erection painfully
heavy in his briefs.  The feeling of self-satisfaction at how Mulder
responded to him was enough.  It was gratifying how Mulder had taken to
anal stimulation and it was more gratifying to be the one to have
stimulated Mulder to such a frenzy.  He came back to the bedroom and
with a towel and a wet washcloth, cleaned up the semen on Mulder's
abdomen and chest and between his legs and wiped off the lubricant from
between the buttocks and the anus.

"Sore?"

"A little," Mulder answered sleepily as he allowed his boss to clean
him.  The intensity of what happened had completely drained him, but he
managed to mutter out, "Is anal sex anything like this, sir?"

"Much better," the AD chuckled gently.  "Feel better now?  No bad
feelings?"

After a few minutes of cuddling, Skinner got up and took his morning
shower.  Mulder was still out of it on the bed, the flush of arousal
beginning to fade on the pale skin.

The AD went down to prepare breakfast for them and Mulder followed
after a while, his damp hair sticking up in all directions.

Skinner disguised the smugness he was feeling with the business-like
efficiency of providing a good breakfast for his houseguest.  He
relished the stunned look on Mulder's face, the way the agent had an
actual dreamy look in his eyes, as Skinner laid out a big breakfast in
front of him.  Skinner knew he was good in bed, one of the skills he
was confident in himself with absolute certainty.  To be reminded of
how those skills could affect a new lover so profoundly was a huge ego-
boost.  It had been a long time indeed since he had a new lover.

"Uh...sex...Good...sex knocks me out." Mulder sheepishly stammered,
suddenly remembering newly discovered erogenous zones.  He paused for a
second, quite aware that he'd said too much that made him appear too
needy.  He dipped his head in embarrassment then ravenously shoveled a
mouthful of food into his mouth.

"I'm glad to find it was...good," Skinner said with an absolute
straight face, just as embarrassed to be praised so easily.  He was
finding out how Mulder said what was on his mind with no holding back.

The agent seemed to gain back his good mood.  He had lost his self-
consciousness about his eagerness and talked a lot at the breakfast
table.

Later, the younger man enthusiastically followed Skinner around the
extensive grounds around the cabin.  However, Mulder was unused to the
physical show of affection out in daylight and out of the bedroom.  He
shunned Skinner's attempts to take a hold of his hand and kiss him,
despite Skinner's assurances that there was no one for miles around.
Skinner just let him be and he told himself that the cabin was still
new for Mulder so he should take his time.

Skinner was glad much later when Mulder finally ran up to him like a
puppy and put his arm around the older man's waist.  He balked however
when he saw the boathouse.  He vehemently shook his head when Skinner
suggested a go at the lake.

"I-I get seasick even if it's a lake," Mulder looked uncomfortable.
"Dad always yelled at me when we went sailing because I threw up a lot.
I'm useless on boats so Dad gave up teaching me to sail and he and
Samantha would stay out for hours on the Cape.  She knew how to sail."

Skinner got a sudden vision of a forlorn boy out at the docks jealous
that his father spent hours with his sister and not with him.  Skinner
drew Mulder to him and kissed his cheek.  Mulder turned away, suddenly
upset by the memory.

They walked side by side as Mulder tried to erase the unhappy memories
that sometimes flooded back at the most inopportune times.   His abrupt
mood swings and generally morose behavior was what drove away the women
he tried to take out.  Scully was the only one who could figure him out
with consistency  but Krycek was totally at sea and antagonistic
whenever he was in a bad mood.  Skinner's quiet understanding and
support was so unexpected, quite different from the AD he was more
familiar with.
.........................
 

Skinner continued to hold Mulder close to him as both of them regained
their breath.  Mulder experienced anal intercourse for the first time
and he was still speechless.  They had done it face to face, something
that Mulder didn't know was possible and seeing his boss lose all
control like that moved him.

It burned terribly at first and Mulder was terrified for a fleeting
second because Skinner was big.  However, Skinner was patient and
careful and the younger man was able to enjoy it.   The feeling of
penetration and Skinner's powerful thrusts were incredible and
literally blew his breath away.   Skinner's encouraging words were the
best part, when he made it clear he would stop if the discomfort proved
too much.

Mulder never could have guessed how considerate a lover the AD was.  He
was initially tense about not knowing what to do but the older man had
guided him carefully throughout the whole thing and had treasured
Mulder's inexperience as part of the pleasure.

Everything was new for Skinner as well since it was the first time that
he had intercourse without a condom since he and Sharon last made love.
Being naked within your lover was still the best and Mulder had been so
tight.

Mulder still clutched Skinner's broad shoulders, his eyes shut tightly
and his mouth open.  A warm breeze fluttered in from the open window,
fresh summer air filling the room already redolent with sweat and sex.
Their sticky skin damp from exertion made Mulder aware of the bond that
had been created this summer  Sunday afternoon.

Sunday meant they had only a few more hours together.  Skinner
mentioned that it was prudent they go back to DC this evening.  Mulder
drew in a breath, the regretful lump in his throat telling him that
this magical weekend was soon to end.

Skinner looked down at him with extreme satisfaction and bestowed a
series of intense open-mouthed kisses.  Of course, the best part for
Skinner was that he was Mulder's first.  If things went as Skinner
intended, he was determined to be Mulder's only for a very long time.

"Was it good for you?"  Skinner wanted to be sure that this was
something they would do very regularly in the future.  Sucking each
other off or mutual masturbation was great but the closeness and
intimacy of what they had done was unparalleled. Mulder had actually
screamed when he ejaculated.

Mulder seemed to come back to himself and opened his eyes. He really
loved the way Skinner was so solicitous of him, especially the way the
bigger man hovered over him.

The agent took in a big shaky breath and nodded.  Then he inexplicably
found his eyes leaking.

"Fox?" Skinner said with slight alarm.  He took Mulder's face in both
of his hands and looked closely at the agent's face.  Maybe doing
everything in one brief weekend was too much.  Maybe Mulder couldn't
deal with just what happened between them.

"No, please don't worry," Mulder said.  He hugged the bigger man to him
to reassure him.  "Yes, it was good for me and I'd like to do it again.
Soon."

"Sorry, I'm getting too heavy for you." Skinner gave him a final kiss
as he withdrew from Mulder and reached for a wad of tissue from the
nightstand.  He ruefully glanced at the box, which had rapidly emptied
this weekend.  He cursed violently.  There was some blood on the sheet
and the tissue.   Even if they had used a lot of the lubricant.

"I'm okay," Mulder said, still languorous after such a big orgasm.  He
absently wiped off the tears from his face.

"You shouldn't get too sore and it's not really safe if this happens,
honey," Skinner muttered as he inspected the tiny tearing of Mulder's
flesh.  Skinner kissed the spot gently and Mulder was startled at the
sensation.  He stiffened involuntarily.

"Even if we did quite a bit these two days, you still have a lot to
learn," Skinner said with mock-sternness.   The younger man just this
morning had experienced the best oral sex he'd ever had.  Yesterday had
been a fevered series of Mulder-explorations, as Skinner sought to
literally map out each and every erogenous zone on his new lover's
body.

.......................
 

Mulder learned a lot these past two days. Who would have known that
under all that starch, the AD was such a great lover?  Never in a
million years would Mulder have found out until he'd screwed up his
courage when he followed Skinner home.

Mulder's overwhelming curiosity to find out what Skinner had meant with
the kiss he'd bestowed so many months ago was well rewarded at this
point.  For the past few months, at times of idleness or sheer
loneliness of his solitary existence, Mulder found himself
contemplating Skinner's simple gesture again and again.

The AD was patient and kind.  In fact, the whole weekend was focused on
Mulder, his pleasure since Skinner refused his attempts to reciprocate
until this afternoon.  Mulder never had so much sex in a two-day
period.   He felt at peace with none of the nervous energy that
constantly emanated from him.  Total physical satiation was a new
sensation.

He'd lost his virginity with Phoebe as an Oxford student all those
years ago.  It had been memorable but it had been in a series of
furtive explorations, of stolen moments when his or her dorm room was
empty of its other occupants.  Everything was done with the added
anxiety and spice of roommates entering at an inopportune moment.

However, this weekend with his boss was different.  He gave up another
kind of virginity, but it was performed at his pace, unfettered by
concern of others' discovery, in a series of leisurely moments of ever
heightening sensuality. Beyond the obvious mechanical differences of
having sex with someone of his own gender, Mulder found the rawness of
sensations and emotions, of muscle pitted against muscle, different
odors and textures to be his most marvelous discovery this weekend.

He knew that he would appear tomorrow with a silly grin on his face and
Scully'd say he got lucky.  She never grilled him as to who he went out
with although she would definitely be surprised if she found out that
her partner's latest lover was a man.

Mulder stiffly got out of the Range Rover that Sunday night in
Skinner's Virginia home, avoiding Skinner's gaze as he got his stuff
from the car.  The older man was reverting back to the AD mode and
Mulder didn't like it.  He thanked Skinner for the wonderful two days
with his voice filled with uncertainty.

It was sinking in how difficult their double lives were going to be.
 
 

CHAPTER FOUR

SCULLY'S POOH MUSINGS
 

Mulder was kept busy the next three days as he and Scully pursued their
case in Phoenix.  As Scully had predicted, it wasn't really an X-file.

Mulder stood sullenly on the sidewalk in front of his building where
Scully dropped him off on a late Wednesday night.  Sometimes he
couldn't stand her in her I-Told-You-So mood.  She didn't crow about it
but when she was right that no paranormal activity was involved, she
always let him know it.

Mulder trudged up the stoop and was startled as the reclusive apartment
manager emerged from her office.  Mulder knew that he paid his rent on
time this month and he was about to mouth off at her when she thrust a
package in his hand then receded back into the shadows.

It was a small Pooh bear in a basket with chocolates wrapped in clear
cellophane.  A note was inside.  He grinned for the first time that
day.

He tore open the cellophane in the elevator to get to the note.  It was
kind of difficult to do while precariously balancing his luggage.  The
note was short.

"Missed my hunny bear."

Mulder didn't need to know where the typewritten note came from. No one
ever called him honey even when he was small.  Terms of endearment like
that never came his way.  He'd never been lovable even as a kid because
he was so hyperactive that he was into constant trouble.

Such a silly and sentimental gesture.  Who could have predicted the AD
had it in him?

Mulder felt himself flush as his body suddenly remembered the pleasant
ache in his backside and the overwhelming warmth in his groin.   He
rushed to his apartment.  Skinner said they could call each other after
office hours and at home.

"Skinner." Skinner's voice was fuzzy from sleep.  Mulder couldn't
believe how good it felt to hear the other man's voice.

"Uhm, hey, thanks for the chocolate."  He kicked himself for acting
like a giddy teenager as he shyly thanked the AD.

"You could use the extra weight," Skinner dryly commented.

"You didn't say we could send things to each other through the mail,"
Mulder complained.

Skinner chuckled tiredly.  They talked a few minutes about the case
then about more personal stuff.

"Still sore?" Skinner murmured.  Mulder's mouth grew dry at his lover's
throaty voice.  Skinner's intonation was almost similar to the way he
sounded when he'd had his one and only orgasm at the cabin in that
memorable weekend.

"Yes.  And I miss you."  Mulder couldn't believe what he said, but the
words were out of his mouth before he could do anything.  His personal
life had never accelerated at this rate before.

"You'll just have to sit on it until the end of the week," Skinner
laughed.  He had no intention of giving Mulder too much of a workout,
not after the blood on the sheets.

.........................
 

Skinner wasn't taking any chances.  Antisurveillance devices, the best
that money could buy, were installed to both their home phones.
Faceless, anonymous men made an appointment one afternoon and Mulder
found them sweeping his apartment in a thorough and efficient manner.
None of the haphazard way he went about a similar sweep a year ago when
he found a bug in an electric socket.

Since then, Mulder would get little presents in the mail on some days
and every time he came home from a case away from DC.  Little toy
soldiers and fox figurines accumulated on his shelf such that Scully
commented that she didn't know that Mulder was a collector.

She planned to pull an all-nighter in Mulder's apartment to bring down
their paperwork to a manageable level.  Subconsciously, Mulder wanted
to avoid preferential treatment.  He even amazed himself with the
diligence he now attacked their stack of papers.

Mulder glanced up from the coffee table where he worked  using Scully's
laptop.  He cringed inwardly when Scully accidentally sat on his Pooh
bear. Mulder kept it close by the couch whenever he slept.   He
surreptitiously retrieved it from under Scully's butt and fluffed it up
again as it had flattened under her weight.  Caring for the plush toy
definitely meant how serious he and Skinner were at this point.

The phone rang.  But  Mulder was preoccupied with the work and
belatedly ran for the phone.  Mulder tensed up visibly as he listened
to Scully's end of the conversation.

"Yes, sir...No, sir...You want to talk to him, sir?"

It was obvious that Skinner was at the other end.  But Scully did not
suspect anything and continued to talk to the AD.  As they conversed,
Scully idly examined Mulder's new fox collection.

"You sure have a lot of new little stuff around here, Mulder," Scully
said once she got off the phone.

She stood on tiptoes to get a better look at the foxes then the
soldiers.

"I found them at the hobby shop in the mall," Mulder muttered uneasily,
studiously bending his head over the papers on the coffee table.  "Hey,
Scully, what do these lab results mean, the one in this column?"

Scully raised her right eyebrow like Mr. Spock and surveyed the pieces.
The toy soldiers were obviously antiques, small wooden ones with
jointed limbs, some brightly colored while the others had faded and
scratched surfaces, no doubt from wear and tear of its previous owners.

Most of the foxes were porcelain or crystal, the more expensive
European kind.  Scully carefully turned over a larger fox and reared
back in astonishment.  A tiny red and gilt sticker of Baccarat was on
the fox's underside.  This definitely was not hobby store material.
She looked strangely at her partner, who was busily flipping over the
files and papers in front of him.

He never liked his first name so why was he suddenly collecting all
these foxes?  Encounters between Mulder and the military had never been
pleasant, so what were all these soldiers doing here?

"Okay, Mulder," Scully fastened her gaze on her.  "Who is she?"

"What do you mean?" Mulder feigned innocence.  His hands started to
sweat and he didn't like where the conversation was going.  He knew
that Scully aced Interrogation Techniques at Quantico.

"Someone's gave you all these little toys, Mulder," Scully said
triumphantly.  "You didn't buy these.  In fact, I can put up a fairly
accurate profile on her right now."

"What?" Mulder squeaked in confusion.

"It's obvious that she's older than you, probably in her forties, has a
lot of money and has an appreciation for the finer things in life,"
Scully teased.  "She has a nice sense of humor, judging by that Winnie
the Pooh bear you've been trying to protect from me since I sat on your
couch.

"She has all these stuff delivered here, doesn't she?  She probably
holds down a job even if she doesn't need to, maybe someone in high
authority because she obviously knows exactly what she wants.  I know
your daily schedule, Mulder and you don't have time to go scouring
around hobby shops for such trivialities.   Am I right or am I right?"

"How do you know that...she's older?" Mulder gritted his teeth.  She
must be psychic, Mulder cursed.  But he had to admit that Scully was
merely using everything he had taught her in the field.

"All the things she gave you, Mulder, are the classics, even down to
the Winnie the Pooh," Scully wondered why Mulder paled all of a sudden.
"She also loves you very much because each gift is so well thought out.
It's serious, Mulder, isn't it?  You love her a lot, because you hold
all her gifts in such high regard.  They're all near the top shelf.
This is the longest relationship you ever sustained since Phoebe."

She was so accurate that if she just changed her UNSUB's sex and
recalled the phone call from Skinner, she'd hit the nail on the head.

"Oh, Mulder," Scully suddenly realized something and had a sad note in
her voice, the disapproving Catholic tone.

Mulder braced himself for the inevitable.  I'm dead, I'm dead.  She
Knows!

"She's married, Mulder," Scully muttered.  "All this secrecy and drama
surrounding her...Mulder, what if her husband finds out and runs after
you?"

"You have a hit, Scully.  Yeah, it's serious." Mulder tried to look
sheepish.  Deep in his heart, Mulder was jolted.  He was serious about
Walter.  So serious that it was no laughing matter.  This thing with
Walter was no longer just a matter of stolen weekends when they
ensconced themselves into the cozy world of their own.  After fourteen
months of being together for most weekends, Walter's absence from his
life would be untenable. "But don't worry, her husband will never find
out."

"Mulder, be careful, okay?" Scully patted his arm and looked worriedly
into his face.  "You're on dangerous ground."

Dangerous is right, Mulder thought.
 
 

CHAPTER FIVE

LIFE LESSONS
 

Mulder was spooked enough that he didn't fully enjoy the weekend with
Skinner right after Scully's "psychic" episode.  He was restless and
wary, as if he expected Mrs. Spooky to pop out of the bushes at any
minute.

Despite the warmth in the cabin in pleasant contrast to the crisp
December weather outside, Mulder was sufficiently chilled with the idea
of Scully finding out about him and Skinner.  At the moment, he didn't
feel he could handle her disapproval about this aspect of his personal
life.  After reading the same line on the same page of his book, Mulder
turned off the light on his nightstand .

"I tell you, Walter, she had the age and profile so accurate except for
the sex of the perp."  Mulder gnawed on his lower lip.  This was the
second time within the hour that he mentioned Scully's accuracy.

"So I'm a perp now?  Fox, it's just Scully having one over you.
Lighten up, will you?"  Skinner watched as Mulder burrowed under the
covers until only the soft spikes of his hair were visible.  The AD
wasn't going to have none of this, especially on a Friday night.
Friday nights were special, occasions of longed-for reunions.

On this cold December night, Skinner was attempting to entice Mulder to
play but Mulder wasn't biting.

Skinner already had his hand up Mulder's flannel pajamas and was
drawing lazy circles on his nipples but Mulder clearly wasn't
interested.  Actually it was Skinner's pajamas he was wearing.   He was
lying on his back with his hands under his head as he recounted
Scully's accuracy.

"Walter, if she isn't even a profiler and she could do that, what about
the other profilers at VCS?"  Mulder worried.  "Is everything we do so
predictable and our motives always so clear?"

Walter tickled him under his arms.  But the agent dropped his arms

"Cut it out!"  Mulder turned to his side and faced away from Skinner,
determined to go to sleep.

"Well, you're the one who profiles all the time, Spooky."

Skinner persisted in playing and put his hand down Mulder's pajama
bottom and ran his hand up and down the cleft of Mulder's buttocks.

"I'd rather not, Walter," Mulder repeated himself.  Skinner finally
gave up and hugged Mulder from behind until Mulder softened against
him.  He could feel Skinner's large erection but he ignored it.
Skinner kissed his neck softly and let Mulder sleep.

Mulder awakened to the wet wonderful feeling of Skinner's mouth
suckling his penis, drowning him in unbearably pleasant sensation.  The
younger man didn't turn away from Skinner this time as involuntary
moans issued from his throat.

Mulder arched his back, whimpering gratefully when Skinner pulled off
the rest of his pajama trousers.  He parted his legs and drew up his
knees and pelvis as Skinner generously applied the lubricant.  Both of
them sighed as Skinner inserted his penis into Mulder's anus, with
Mulder's legs up his shoulders.  As Skinner waited for Mulder to fully
accommodate him, Mulder opened his eyes a fraction and looked into
Skinner's face.

"I - I really love you, Walter," Mulder managed to choke out with a
catch to his voice.  With Skinner inside him, Mulder remembered how
he'd felt when Scully accurately mentioned how serious he was with his
lover.

Skinner's eyes widened and he smiled tenderly.  This was the first time
Mulder ever expressed this sentiment although Skinner had been telling
him so for a long time now.  Two tear tracks ran from the corner of
Mulder's eyes, which Skinner brushed away with both his thumbs.

"Ssh, honey, I know," Skinner murmured, bending forward briefly to kiss
the younger man.  As Skinner started going in and out of Mulder's body
with Mulder's long legs on his shoulders, the delicious friction
started to overwhelm them both and their cries intermingled.

Mulder had both hands clutching the headboard as Skinner's powerful
body pounded into him.  Skinner buried his nose in Mulder's armpit and
inhaled his wonderful scent of clean sweat, deodorant and that ever-
lingering Ivory soap.  He managed to get his hand between them and
mercilessly stimulated the underside of Mulder's penis such that Mulder
writhed and squirmed his hips.

"Walter, please, I can't stand it anymore!" Mulder gasped as his body
shook and jerked as it emptied.  Skinner hugged him lovingly as he
spasmed and Skinner grunted heavily as his own body ejaculated.

"Walter, I meant what I said," Mulder muttered to him as his head
rested on Skinner's shoulder when he pulled out of him. "It wasn't
because I was in the throes of passion.  I was planning to tell you
this morning but you took me by surprise."

Skinner appreciated his candor and massaged Mulder's velvety Ivory soap
skin as they embraced each other. Underneath the soft skin, Mulder was
all wiry strength, with the long lean muscle groups of a swimmer.
After Mulder recovered his breath and had his fill of warmth from
Skinner's embrace, he turned on the television with the remote and
watched his usual dose of Saturday morning cartoons.  Skinner stood up
to go to the bathroom.

"There was something else Scully said that was true, Walter," Mulder
lay on his back as Skinner sat by him on the bed and extended an arm
over him.  Mulder ran his hand over Skinner's muscular biceps. "I've
never had a longer relationship with anyone except at the time when I
was young and stupid at Oxford."

"I guess you haven't changed much," Skinner remarked dryly.

"What do you mean?" Mulder asked.

"You're still young and stupid," Skinner threw a pillow on his face as
he got up and headed for the bathroom.

After the older man took his shower, Mulder thought about how his life
had improved since he and Skinner got intimate.  Skinner gave him a lot
of useful advice.  He was a treasure trove of the practicalities of
life.

Skinner nearly had a heart attack when Mulder finally showed him his
finances.  He hardly had any savings and all his money was in the bank
as a savings account.  Skinner wanted to find out first where all his
money was going and it caused their first major fight when the AD
figured out that he was using his own money for some expenses on cases.
Mulder was so careless with the financial reports and expense accounts
that whenever the finance department complained about this or that
expense, Mulder just shelled out the difference without question to get
it over with. Scully didn't even know he was doing it.

Skinner gave him a crash course on stocks, bonds and the money market
once he hounded Mulder to straighten things out with Accounting.  He
wrestled with Mulder's money for a time, occasionally handing some
papers for the agent to sign.

Mulder now had a clearer idea about his finances.  Skinner was able to
fatten it up enough that he was able to buy a car because he couldn't
keep using Scully's car forever despite her generosity with it.

The older man also prodded him to find a better apartment. Skinner
hated the dark, gloomy place with all the dark, gloomy furniture.
Mulder insisted that it was okay but he started having second thoughts
when his car stereo got stolen twice already.  Skinner told him that he
worried for Mulder's safety in that neighborhood and, to manipulate
Mulder further, Skinner said that he should worry about Scully's safety
whenever she visited him.  Skinner had him scouting apartments now and
he was seriously thinking of moving.  With his new car he can even find
a better place in the suburbs because getting to work won't be such a
hassle anymore.

Skinner also wanted him to make up with his parents.  Mulder still
hadn't taken that one advice.  The older man told him that he always
got along with his parents and he still regretted it everyday that they
weren't there with him now that both were dead.  Even Skinner's
shimmering eyes when he said this didn't move Mulder.

It was a major fight when Skinner practically ordered him to call his
mother for Thanksgiving last month.  Mulder resisted viciously and said
that he was just going to get hurt again when his mother would mention
that everything would be better if Samantha were with them.

Mulder spent hours walking in the woods that Thanksgiving.  As it grew
dark, Skinner debated on whether he should call the local authorities
to start scouring the woods or not.  Mulder appeared shivering at the
door at nine o'clock that evening.  He wasn't wearing the proper
clothes when he flew off in a huff, just corduroys, shirt and sweater.
From then on, Skinner never mentioned his making up with his parents
again but Mulder knew that Christmas was just around the corner.    It
was highly probable that the older man will attempt to stage another
reconciliation.

Scully took care of him whenever he was out on a case, happily
convinced that her efforts in making sure that he was eating right was
causing his weight gain.  She didn't know that Skinner was taking much
better care of him. Skinner occasionally sent substantial food to his
apartment, not just the surprise pizza or Chinese he sent when he knew
that Mulder was working late.

In fact, his mother never took care of his physical well being like
that when he was growing up.  Both his parents patently preferred
Samantha and Mulder just picked up the leftovers of their affection
that fell by the wayside.  No one ever fussed over him the way Skinner
did, not even Scully and Mulder felt he was lucky.

Their third major fight occurred two weeks ago when Skinner had enough
of his sunflower seeds.  Skinner was a neat freak, instilled in him as
he grew up and reinforced in his stay in the military.  Personally, he
already made much leeway in tolerating Mulder's messy ways: the clothes
strewn all over the house, the way he went around with his shirt
untucked, his occasional funny-looking hair and Skinner constantly
reminding him to wipe his feet when he came into the kitchen from
outside.  He even didn't say anything when Mulder forgot to shave and
he hated having to kiss him with a rough stubble like that.

But despite his admonitions, Skinner continued to find stupid shells
all over the house at the unlikeliest of places, even down in the
basement.  Skinner in a fit of fury had thrown out all of Mulder's
stashes in the backyard and into the snow.   The AD finally calmed down
after doing that and he compromised that Mulder could eat his seeds in
the back porch, the one and only place Skinner would allow it.  He even
installed a large trashcan there so that Mulder would take the hint.
It was his house after all.  The agent found out that he could last a
day without the sunflower seeds and was now even trying to cut down.
Scully had even remarked that the office was cleaner than before.  She
even said it was healthier because seeds were actually loaded with
sodium and fat.
 
 

The one and only time they ever risked being together in the city was
when Skinner brought Mulder to a doctor that specialized in gay health.
Skinner was able to locate the discreet physician in a suburban
Baltimore practice who checked out both of them.  Skinner was fed up
with Mulder's Internet based knowledge and wanted someone they could
both talk to with their particular concerns.  Since then, each of them
kept their appointments alone.
 
 

Mulder got the biggest scare of his life just two months ago when
Skinner complained of a migraine the whole weekend.  By Sunday, the
migraine had progressed to such a degree that Skinner was throwing up
from the pain.  Mulder bundled him up in the Range Rover and brought
him to a small local hospital.  They were able to diagnose it as an
attack of hypertension and the headache subsided with antihypertensive
medications.  The thought of losing Skinner to a heart attack or a
stroke shook Mulder to the core.
 
 

It was there that Mulder got his first taste of  discrimination. The
hospital staff were kind enough but Mulder could see that they were
giving each other amused glances at seeing the younger man in obvious
anguish over his older "friend's" pain.  It was the first time that
they ever went out of the cabin for something else, save for the brief
trips to the supermarket.  He almost squirmed uncertainly under their
close scrutiny and he even heard a nurse say that it was a waste that
both such good-looking men only had eyes for each other.
 
 

So when Skinner emerged from his shower, Mulder got up and embraced him
again surprising the older man.  Mulder then took his shower while
Skinner prepared breakfast.  They never had bacon anymore after the
hypertension scare.  Skinner was on regular medications and had to
avoid fat, sodium and sugar.  But some days, as a treat, he cooked the
greasy food that Mulder loved but he never touched the stuff anymore.
 
 

At first, Skinner couldn't figure out why Mulder went crazy over
hamburgers and other fast food junk.  He was able to find out that
after the trauma of Samantha's abduction, the whole family couldn't
even function.  His mother went into a severe depression requiring
repeated hospitalizations and drug intake.  Mulder was left to fend for
himself and sometimes, he spent days alone in the house because his
mother was in some hospital while his father worked.  There were days
when food ran out and Mulder had to make do with cereal for all his
meals.  Skinner learned that when his father realized that there was no
more food in the house and the boy was starving, he'd bring home a
packet from McDonald or Burger King.  In  Skinner's amateur analysis,
the fast food reminded Mulder that his father may have cared for him
even if only a little.   That was also the reason why Mulder couldn't
stand cold cereal for breakfast up to now, especially corn flakes.
 
 

Skinner always made breakfast, because that was the only meal he could
cook well.  Mulder was the better cook and he always made dinner.  He
had more practice since he'd been taking care of himself a longer time.
Skinner only worried about things like cooking and laundry after his
divorce.  Mulder convinced Skinner to get a housekeeper for the
Virginia house so that he wouldn't have to bother about himself during
the weekdays.  Mrs. Jackson cleaned the house while he was at work and
cooked dinner that Skinner could reheat once he got home.  It would
help his hypertension, Mulder reasoned to have less to worry about now
that housework was somebody else's job.  Skinner also noted that having
the housekeeper there was a good deterrent for both of them from making
the house a meeting place.  They never met there anymore before going
to the cabin.  Mulder's new car allowed both of them the freedom and
anonymity of just meeting here on Friday nights, each making their way
here.
 
 

Mulder padded in after a few minutes.  He read the newspaper and made
his usual remarks about government cover-ups of various news items.  He
also told Skinner about the latest case he and Scully were working on
and emphasized that the papers he wanted will be on his desk on Monday.
Mulder still found criticism of his work hard to take and he hadn't
taken the latest work-related reprimand from his boss well.  Skinner
was very careful to never bring up personal issues during those chewing
out sessions and in the same vein, he never mentioned work issues when
they argued here or on the phone.
 
 

CHAPTER SIX

SHADOW IN THE TREES
 

Mulder felt especially vulnerable today after his revelation of love
for the older man.  It was as if his very heart was raw from being so
exposed.  Mulder followed Skinner around the cabin and outside like a
puppy yapping at the older man's heels.  He left Skinner only when the
bigger man began chopping wood for the fireplace.  The AD liked to do
this alone because he claimed it cleared his head and gave him a good
workout.  Mulder wandered over to the driveway to shovel the snow.  He
stopped when the hairs on the back of his neck gave a prickly
sensation.

He was being watched.

The agent kept shoveling.  From the distance, he heard the axe against
wood as Skinner continued filling up the woodpile.  Mulder saw a flash
of light as it shone off a mirrored surface.  Maybe from binoculars.

Mulder dropped the shovel and slowly walked down the driveway to the
road.   He whistled as he walked at a slow pace and made a big show of
looking at the sky and the trees as if he were going for a short hike.
The agent spied a black car by the side of the road about two hundred
yards away and his stomach clenched.  At that moment, he saw a man in
dark clothes just as slowly get in the car and speed off, heedless of
Mulder's shout at him.

"Hey, you! Hey!" Mulder shouted as he ran down the road.   Despite a
good effort on his part, Mulder couldn't catch up.  He didn't even get
to see the license plate.

Skinner heard Mulder's outraged cry.  Sensing trouble, the AD ran to
the front of the house, just in time to see Mulder jogging back.

"Someone was watching me...us," Mulder said with a tight nervous tone
in his voice.  "Someone in a black car and I think he had binoculars.
D'you think he had a camera?"

They went together at the general direction of where the man had stood
and they found fresh footprints in the area.

"I found something." Skinner grimly held a gray plastic cartridge for
36mm films.  The AD used his handkerchief to put it in his pocket.
They followed the footprints to the road where the car was parked but
they didn't find anything there.

"He was here, he saw us," Mulder said with a low angry voice as he
looked down at the set of footprints directly underneath the first
floor windows of the cabin.

"He was watching us," Mulder repeated.  He brushed a hand over his eyes
in frustration.

Skinner tried to quell the anxiety building up in him.  With that film
cartridge, blackmail was not far behind.

Mulder was shaking with rage by the time they got back into the house.
Bad things always happened to him and it was just a matter of time
before the real world found out about their little cozy place here.
Deep inside him, Mulder was also convinced that all this happened
because he had professed his love for Skinner that morning.

"Yes, officer, there was a trespasser on my property," Skinner reported
on the phone as Mulder numbly listened.  No mention was made of the
film cartridge.  Mulder sat by the window looking out on the driveway
as Skinner continued talking to the police.  It was futile, though,
because whoever was out there wasn't coming back.  Most likely, that
person already had what he came here for.

"Fox, you all right?"  Mulder looked too pale.

"Yeah."

Skinner sat beside the agent on the couch and took his hand.

"We have to issue statements," the AD reminded him. Skinner was stung
when Mulder pulled his hand from Skinner's grasp.

The police car pulled up to the driveway 5 minutes later and inspected
the site where Mulder spotted the man.  The officer didn't give them
the eye like Mulder expected, just nodded his head when he said he was
Skinner's friend.  After ten minutes, the officer left.

"Walter, I think I should go," Mulder said.  He went back into the
house and retrieved the books he was currently reading and the suit he
wore yesterday.

Skinner watched him silently.

"Fox, whoever did this have the pictures they want already."  Skinner
said it as matter-of-factly but there was no denying the begging
underlying his words.

"I...I can't stay here." Mulder angrily shook his head.  When he looked
up, Skinner was surprised to find the almost-panic in the agent's eyes.
"They...it was private, Walter, what we had between us!   I can't get
it out of my mind that we might end up in some porn rag or someone in
the Bureau might get hold of the pictures."

Mulder abruptly walked out of the house and angrily tossed his things
into his car.  Skinner grimly waved goodbye to the agent as Mulder
eased the Camry out of the driveway.  Mulder waved back and set off.

Both of them were at the edge of their seats for the rest of the week,
each of them expecting to find an envelope with blown-up copies of them
in compromising positions.  The feeling of violation was unspeakable.

Scully was in the midst of it as Mulder snapped at her unnecessarily.
She concluded that Mulder had some trouble with his lady friend.  More
than once, Scully wanted to ask her partner if his girlfriend's husband
had found out about them.  Scully had to bite her tongue and let things
pass like she was a Zen master.

It was more than a week later that Skinner finally had the nerve to
call Mulder.

"Fox?" The easy flow of conversation between them was gone.  Mulder was
in full paranoid mode and hardly let a monosyllable escape his lips
despite the foolproof telephone security.

"What?" was Mulder's answer, as if startled from a reverie.  "Walter,
I'm tired.  I think I'll call it a night."

"All right." Skinner reluctantly put down the phone and pondered on how
one small incident had virtually jeopardized what they used to have.

The agent was shaken to his very core.  He had more to lose if their
relationship ever came out in the open.  If Mulder lost his job, he
would essentially lose his chance of finding his sister with the Bureau
resources unavailable to him.

The AD gave Mulder his space and didn't force the issue.  He always
checked with the local police regarding the prowler but so far there
weren't any leads, not that Skinner expected any. The absence of prints
on the film cartridge was telling.  And the man in black did not hurry
back to his car.  That in itself was ominous, indicating someone who
was fully trained in professional surveillance.

Skinner persisted with his cabin weekends, but without Mulder with him,
he found out how empty the place could be.   He never knew how much
Mulder's presence in his life changed his weekends.

That Christmas, Skinner heard the crunch of tires on the driveway.  He
wasn't expecting anybody.  But one glance through the window told him
all he needed to know.  He stifled his smile, telling himself to keep
his cool at the sight of the Camry.

Both of them reserved the embraces until they were well inside, behind
the curtains.

"You never told me traffic on the freeway was hell on Christmas
weekend," Mulder complained, slipping easily into Skinner's
outstretched arms.  They hugged each other long and hard.

"God, I missed this." Mulder's voice muffled into the older man's
shirt.

"Me, too." Skinner was gruff with emotion brought on by this unexpected
visit.  He lowered his head to take a long sniff of Mulder's scent,
something he'd long missed.  "I didn't know you were coming.  You
should've told me."

"Don't worry about the dinner.  I have all the fixings with me.  I
didn't come here for the dinner."  Mulder thought about his words then
hastily added, "No, I didn't mean it the way it came out. I'm not
asking you to perform on demand..."

Mulder continued to sputter and all Skinner could do was chuckle.

"No, I meant it's Christmas and all..."

"Will there be others, other Christmases?" Skinner carefully asked.

"I don't know."  The voice filled with doubt and uncertainty was like a
small knife wound boring into Skinner's gut.

"Come on, let's get your things from the car," the AD briskly said.

It was always difficult for Mulder to trust anyone or anything.  Yes,
he still trusted Skinner implicitly but the cabin didn't seem like a
haven anymore.  That night, the curtains were closed and all doors were
locked but they couldn't relax enough to make love.  Skinner sighed
with disappointment and contented himself with having the agent
sleeping beside him.

Two months passed with hardly a word said between them.  Skinner
thought that it was long enough.  When he couldn't stand it anymore, he
summoned Mulder and Scully to his office ostensibly to ask for updates
on some of their cases.

Scully left the office while Mulder pointedly lingered near the door.
Skinner stood up and closed the door to Kimberly's part of the office.

"I'll pick you up at your place this afternoon.  Not at your
building...wait for me across the street."

Skinner used a Bureau pool car this time.  He checked to make sure
there was no one tailing him. Mulder looked dully ahead and fell asleep
in the car during the two-hour ride.

Skinner checked them into adjoining rooms at an anonymous hotel.
Skinner spent two hours just holding Mulder to him, something he had
been deprived of for months.   Neither of them wanted sex; they just
wanted to be near each other.  Mulder rested against the AD as he
watched television.  Skinner inhaled the Ivory scent he missed.  He
continued to sniff the agent's hair and neck and occasionally kissed
his cheek.

Mulder was just bone tired of being on his toes the whole time, each
person he met a prime suspect.  Being in the quiet hotel room in the
quiet town with Skinner and thick curtains felt safer.  He fell asleep
as Skinner rubbed his back comfortingly.

They tried the hotel route for three weekends but Skinner finally said
enough.  The hotels were uncomfortable and reminded them of business
trips they had to take while in the field.  Skinner installed a
reasonable security system and they started using the cabin again after
a lull of four more months.
 
 

CHAPTER SEVEN

CLONE CHAOS
 
 

The prowler scare was just an echo.  It was ever present  in the back
of their minds, but they would go crazy if they would let it rule their
lives.  Mulder and Skinner stuck to their original precautions and
things went smoothly for a while.

However, serenity continued to elude them.  Mulder was up to his antics
again.

Skinner stormed into his office one morning.  He couldn't remember ever
being this furious with his lover. He called Mulder to his office in a
rage.   As Mulder entered his office, Skinner grabbed the photograph of
Special Agent Barry Weiss dead in the trunk of his car.

"Do you have authorization to investigate this case?"

"No, sir."

The AD almost snapped at the way Mulder's voice rose.  This was turning
into a nightmare, and Mulder's next statement floored him.  Mulder
stared in bewilderment at the picture of the dead agent's body.

"I thought we had a special understanding with regards to the X-files."

He wanted to yell at Mulder that "special understandings" did not hold
water for his own bosses.

"I want a full accounting on my desk in the morning," Skinner's fury
was barely held in check.  Mulder attempted to say something more but
thought better of it.

Once the agent left, Skinner put his head in his hands briefly.  Maybe
they were deluded in thinking this would work, to be lovers in private
but still maintain a boss and subordinate relationship in the Hoover.
He was harsh with Mulder, but no harsher than he would have been if it
were another agent.

An agent was dead, for God's sake, and the lack of paperwork on
Mulder's part would bear heavily on the subsequent investigation.

Events became more complicated a scant day later.

Skinner was first surprised when he received a call from Mulder's
father.  Bill Mulder wanted him to relay the message that Mulder must
call home for a family emergency.  The AD asked Kimberly to locate the
agent.  Mulder strode into the office looking tense.

"I'm sorry about not having the report ready," Mulder began cautiously.
But when he entered Skinner's office and saw Skinner's grave face, he
knew that he was called for something else.

How come I'm not surprised he didn't have his report ready?  Skinner
thought grimly.  "Agent Mulder, your father just called."

Mulder's apprehension at Skinner's announcement was quite evident.  He
nodded and left the office.

Skinner didn't hear further from the agent that day.  Skinner spent his
time piecing together what exactly transpired in Syracuse.  The Deputy
Director was breathing down his own neck and Skinner had to cough up
his own report.  Trying to account for an agent's death was harrowing
enough.  Accounting for a death of an agent not under his supervision
without the proper authorized paperwork was a nightmare.

Agent Scully offered to write Mulder's official report, but Skinner
waved her off with irritation.  She shouldn't be doing Mulder's work,
family emergency or no family emergency

That night as Skinner lay in his bed, the telephone rang past two
o'clock.

"Skinner." His voice was hoarse from sleep.

"Walter?" His lover's voice was distraught.  Skinner sat up in bed, his
senses on full alert.

"Hey, Fox, is everyone all right, your mom and dad?"

"Yes, they're all right," Mulder reassured the older man.  "I mean,
physically, no one's ill.  She's here."

"Who?"

"Samantha.  My--my sister.  She's here."

"What?"

"Walter, I-I don't know if it's really her.  She appeared out of the
blue at Dad's house..."

Mulder gave a synopsis of events.

"Walter, I'm sorry about the report.  I still can't believe Agent
Weiss..."

"We'll talk about it later.  We shouldn't talk about Weiss just now."

"How can I tell her she needs DNA testing?  Should everyone take her at
face value as Samantha?  Mom seems to think she looks like Dad's own
sister."

"Fox..." Skinner couldn't think of anything more to say.  Getting a
call at two in the morning about his lover's long lost sister was
something both of them were totally unprepared for.  "I think DNA
testing is the last thing you need to worry about right now."

"I guess you're right." Mulder's audible sigh was heard at the other
end.

"I'll be with you in a few hours," Skinner surprised himself with his
own impulsiveness.

"No! Walter, no!  They won't be able to handle us, what with Sam here."
Mulder's voice dropped to a whisper.   "I know you want to be here for
me, but...frying pan to the fire thing..."

"I'm sorry," Skinner relented.  "But be sure to call me anytime you
need to, hear?"

"Yes, I will."

.......................................................
 

It took Mulder a month to recuperate from the Arctic escapade. Skinner
took Mulder to the cabin after they made up a story for Scully, saying
that Mulder was going home to his mother in Greenwich to fully recover.
Mulder tiredly told Scully that she wasn't to call him; his mother was
in a fragile state, too.  He promised to call her instead to give him
daily progress reports.  Skinner was able to get the private nurses for
Mulder from their Baltimore doctor.  They took care of him there.

Finally, Mulder was well enough so that didn't need the nurses anymore.
Skinner didn't want him to exert himself so that they just cuddled in
bed.  Skinner could feel Mulder's bones sticking out at odd angles
against his body.  He lost almost twenty pounds, weight he couldn't
spare.  He was very depressed again only telling Skinner bits and
pieces of what really happened: that Samantha was a clone, that the
pilot he encountered in the submarine said that the real Samantha was
still alive.  What enraged Skinner above all was that Mulder's parents
were convinced that their son traded their daughter for Scully. Neither
one wanted to listen to Mulder's explanation of the actual events.

Mulder was reliving every aspect of Samantha's abduction only
everything was now magnified.  He knew exactly what happened, but his
parents still wouldn't listen to his side of the story.  He was
particularly devastated by his mother's reaction; she was furious with
him and said he wasn't some kid anymore who could be excused for
misinterpreting events.  No, she wasn't depressed this time.  She made
sure that her son knew exactly how she felt.

These whole series of events was going to irretrievably scar Mulder and
Skinner knew that it was up to him to make sure that those scars didn't
run so deep.
 
 

CHAPTER EIGHT

BODY LESSONS
 

Mulder physically recovered from the Arctic experience and his
relationship with Skinner changed for the better.   Mulder still found
himself in all sorts of scrapes in the Bureau, and the AD still
officially reprimanded him.  His personnel file just got thicker and
thicker, but Skinner's expansive personality just allowed him to forget
about it once they were in the cabin.  Scully may be his partner but
she sometimes got on his nerves for questioning his every move.  They
had a lot of little hissy spats lately and Skinner even noticed.  It
seemed to Skinner that Scully still resented Mulder for running off to
Alaska without telling her where he was going.  But neither one
requested for a transfer especially when their closure rate continued
to climb.

"What do you have there?" Skinner asked one weekend.  It was early
Saturday evening at the cabin.  He wasn't really paying attention, only
aware that Mulder was cutting up something in the study.

"Nothing," Mulder answered.  Skinner forgot about it until that night
when he happened to glance at Mulder's nightstand when the younger man
was in the shower.  He peered more closely and was touched at finding
his own face looking back at him from the new picture frame.  It was
beside Samantha's picture.  It was a sentimental gesture, but it made
Skinner's heart leap at the unexpected surprise.

Mulder stopped in his tracks as he stepped back into the bedroom.
Skinner had the silver frame in his hand.

"Why'd you choose this one?" Skinner gruffly complained.  "I'm not even
smiling here."  Skinner scowled at his lover, giving a very close
approximation of his photograph.  The AD was trying to hide his
embarrassment.

"You don't smile much in public," Mulder tried to grab the frame from
Skinner's clutches, but the AD held him off.  "The face is definitely
you, Walter.  I like it, like it's you and me against the world."

Skinner put down the frame then tickled Mulder with extreme affection.
Mulder kept laughing until he was hysterical and fully aroused.  When
Mulder got his breath back, he kissed Skinner aggressively and started
caressing the AD's broad body.  Skinner usually initiated their sexual
encounters because he was the dominant one in the relationship but he
passively sat back against the headboard as Mulder undressed him and
took him in his mouth.  Mulder was better at fellatio now after much
coaching from Skinner.  Skinner moaned as Mulder settled between his
legs and enclosed his member.  Skinner knew that Mulder still found it
difficult to do because he really was big.  When he felt himself near
the edge, he pushed Mulder away.

"Come on ," Skinner said breathlessly as he lay flat on his back, "I
want to come in you."

They divested their garments but in their haste, Mulder left his T-
shirt on.  Mulder turned his back
on Skinner as the older man lubricated him generously.  He was tighter
now after the long abstinence, almost like the first few times they
were together.   Skinner directed his penis as Mulder carefully sat on
it and impaled himself.  They rarely did it this way because it was
harder on Mulder's thighs to maintain the rhythm.  Skinner couldn't see
his face and Mulder would have to touch his own penis.  But Skinner
liked the way that it gave him a direct view of himself penis
disappearing into Mulder's pink lubricated orifice with each thrust.
Skinner even raised up Mulder's shirt from his hips to get a better
view of their joining.

Mulder cried out as he came with some of his semen dripping down
between his legs and onto Skinner's scrotum.  Seeing that Mulder was
tired, Skinner carefully rolled them both onto their side while they
were still as one.  He continued thrusting into Mulder, with his leg
over Mulder's hip so that he could go deeper.  Mulder closed his eyes
in bliss as he felt Skinner prolonged penetration of him and the kisses
the older man showered onto his back and neck.  He loved it when he
already came but Skinner kept going and he could feel Skinner's bulging
muscles tensing all over.  The older man inserted his hand into
Mulder's shirt to lightly tweak his nipples.  Mulder ran his hand over
Skinner's hairy thigh.  Skinner was sometimes so controlled that he
could constantly stimulate Mulder's prostate with his member when he
held him at a certain angle.  Mulder felt his excitement building again
as soft keening sounds escaped from him.

"I'm going to come again, sir," Mulder gasped with some amazement in
his voice.  He was so overcome that he didn't notice he hadn't used
Skinner's first name.  Mulder tightened his hold on Skinner's enclosing
arms.  When Mulder ejaculated again Skinner was still hard within him
then he felt Skinner's semen splash into him with its heat.

Mulder was drained.  It was the first time he had multiple orgasms,
something he didn't know was possible in men.   Skinner chuckled at his
stunned expression as he cleaned the younger man.  Every inch of
Mulder's skin tingled and there was a sensation of heavy congestion
deep in his pelvis, which was wonderfully pleasant.

"Can you teach me to last that long?"  Mulder said after a while as
they cuddled.

"I like it better when you barely have a grip on yourself," Skinner
kissed his head.  He was referring to the times when Mulder was so hot
that he ejaculated prematurely in his jeans, when Skinner stimulated
him while they drove in from the Safeway.  It happened more than once
and Mulder was embarrassed for being like a teenager.  Skinner just
reassured him that he was extremely flattered. "No, I'm kidding.  If
you want I will."

Occasionally, Skinner asked Mulder if he wanted to do something
specific and they would try things but he toed the line with the
handcuffs. The AD said he never wanted Mulder in such a position, that
it was degrading especially for someone in law enforcement.  Mulder may
be more well read on the variations of sex but he wasn't necessarily
more knowledgeable about it.

Although their homosexual relationship was now fully entrenched between
them, they only had eyes for each other.   Occasionally, they would
even brush up against him. Before he was with Skinner, Mulder would
angrily rebuff those men.  Now, he worriedly asked Skinner if his
behavior was changing, if he was any different to the outside world,
such that the other gay men seemed to be bolder now.

Skinner told him that his behavior was still the same in the Bureau
where it mattered.  Both of them knew that there weren't any rumors
flying around either of them.  Especially when Skinner told Mulder to
keep up the pretense of acceding to blind dates.  Some of the older
women at the Hoover just loved to arrange these things for Mulder.  But
after the Arctic episode and the total rejection of his parents, Mulder
now had that air of vulnerability that seemed to seep through his
pores.  It also attracted the women and when Skinner pointed that out
to him, Mulder was able to relax about that issue.

The Arctic escapade also made Mulder more aware of his mortality.
Aside from the gunshot wound on his thigh and previous childhood
illnesses, this was his first serious illness.  He hated it at the
military hospital as he got better and was more aware of his
surroundings.  The medical personnel were kind enough but Mulder missed
Skinner terribly.  Even when he was back in civilization, the nurses
Skinner hired were professionally competent but Skinner still took over
whenever he was able to get away from DC.

Now that he was recovered, he made sure that he was eating better,
keeping his doctor's appointments and exercised regularly.  He still
needed to gain back a lot of the weight he had lost and made the extra
effort of  loading up on higher quality proteins, fats and
carbohydrates instead of the usual high sugar, high sodium junk food he
would have chosen before.

As a celebration of his return to health, Skinner arranged for them to
go to New York for Thanksgiving.  The bigger and more cosmopolitan city
was a revelation for both of them.  It was the first time in their two-
year relationship that they were able to go out to all public places
together without fear of being recognized.

No one made funny faces when they checked into a single hotel room
together or sat beside each other in a restaurant.  Skinner booked them
a marvelous room at a small luxurious hotel and it was Mulder's first
taste of a lifestyle that Skinner previously took for granted.  Mulder
was more comfortable with Skinner spending money on him.  Previously,
he felt put out when Skinner picked up the tab for the expenses at the
cabin so that Skinner relented and made sure that Mulder paid his share
of their living expenses.  But after Alaska, Skinner had emphasized
that they were essentially married to each other so if he used to spend
on his wife, why shouldn't he with Mulder?  Anyway, for Skinner, Mulder
incurred less expense as his life partner than Sharon, on a month to
month basis.   Furthermore, Skinner just got a substantial raise at
work.
 
 

CHAPTER NINE

THANKS TO NEW YORK
 

Skinner was in his dressing gown reading the morning papers.  He smiled
at Mulder's slumbering form.  He'd noticed how Mulder slept much longer
these past weeks.  Mulder still hadn't recovered fully from the Arctic
episode.  At least, he was starting to gain back some of the weight.
The younger man was lying on his side, which gave Skinner a good view
of his haunches.  Skinner couldn't resist and sat by Mulder on
the bed and ran his hand through the sleeping agent's hair.  The
velvety skin on Mulder's back attracted the older man no end and he had
to stroke him gently and lovingly.

Just then, room service rang with breakfast.  Mulder was still asleep
and Skinner covered his naked body with the sheet before answering the
door.

The waiter didn't even bat an eyelash at the two men who shared the
room, one of whom was still asleep on the large bed.   He simply rolled
in the breakfast table as Skinner signed for it and then thanked him
for the tip.

As expected, the smell of food roused Mulder.  Skinner handed him his
shorts which was discarded last night onto the floor and without a
word, Mulder groggily put it on.  He was still slightly disoriented and
he sported the usual pillow hair but he readily tackled the food.
Skinner gave him the sports pages while he continued reading the day's
headlines.

They finished breakfast and Skinner started dressing.  He'd already
taken a shower.  Mulder chose to dawdle as usual and channel surfed a
while until Skinner told him that it was time to get ready.

Mulder had been to New York before, on cases, but never as a tourist
and Skinner wanted him to see the sights.  Mulder also wanted to see
the parade.  And this afternoon, they were going to the matinee of a
play Mulder wanted to see.

It was a full day for both of them and Mulder was feeling totally
relaxed and happy by the time they returned to the hotel that evening.

It was a rare sentiment for him and he hadn't felt it in a long time
because of Alaska.   Skinner took out the
tube of lubricant from the end table as Mulder undressed.  Skinner got
into his pajamas and both of them slipped into bed.

The bigger man kissed Mulder thoroughly and lovingly as he pulled down
the agent's shorts and started massaging him before he used his hands
to stimulate Mulder.  Skinner was doing this more frequently now, using
his hands and pleasuring Mulder without taking pleasure himself.

"Good?" He asked, as Mulder's excitement built.  The younger man could
only gulp a yes, the rest of his response drowned out by his panting.

Mulder needed this, with his self-esteem at an all-time low.  This last
month had been tough, with the battering he received from the strange
clone events, his parents' rejection and his illness.   They only fully
made love ("the whole nine yards" Mulder called it) once a week for the
past few weeks, but Mulder had his daily dose of this loving petting.

With some success, Skinner managed to help Mulder overcome this new
depression.  Mulder got a new haircut, really short, making him look so
young.  Skinner didn't have to deal with razor burn, with him shaving
daily again.  Despite the softness of Mulder's hair on the top of his
head, his whiskers had always been tough and prickly.

Skinner  stroked Mulder's nipples and penis but he concentrated on
inserting his finger into Mulder's nether orifice.  Mulder particularly
loved this consistently because it always reminded him of their first
time.  He clung to Skinner as his body shuddered with building
excitement.  He gave little moans and cries which Skinner occasionally
drowned out with kisses.

"This is the best," Mulder gasped and shivered as he came into the
washcloth that Skinner held out for him to catch his emission.

Skinner had asked many times before if Mulder wanted to switch places
during sex but he repeatedly refused each time.  Skinner wondered about
this because Mulder had already gone two years without his penis being
enclosed by the warm wet heat of a body, something Skinner thought was
important for any male, of thrusting powerfully.  But later, he
interrogated Mulder as to why he didn't want to do it that way and
Mulder's reply had surprised him.

The younger man said that if he performed anal intercourse on Skinner,
it might be physically good but it would be like Mulder making love to
someone not Skinner.   He literally meant what he said when he thought
of Skinner as his shield in life.

"When you're hunched over me and I can feel you inside me and kissing
me, it doesn't just feel great," Mulder whispered.  "It's like  you're
protecting me and making me feel real safe, you know?  That's when I'm
really sure of how you feel about me."

That remark had so heated Skinner by the agent's graphic description of
how it felt like for him when they made love that he made it so good
for Mulder that night in the cabin that the agent was limp by the time
Skinner finished with him.

To Skinner, Mulder lived up to his name.  He was thin, wiry and
muscular like a fox, a cuddly fox sometimes, who had a tendency to get
wild and drive him crazy with his strange theories and misadventures.
But when the outside world overwhelmed Mulder, he would slink back to
Skinner with his tail between his legs and asked to be petted until he
felt better.   Skinner wanted to protect him during those overwhelming
times, of creating a safe haven for the younger man.  He was just glad
that Mulder felt the same way, that he was a haven of safety.

Right now, after the heavy petting, Mulder settled against Skinner and
slept.  Skinner had to wake him after a few minutes to remind him to
get back into his shorts and even wear a T-shirt.  Nights were turning
cold already. Once this was done, Skinner got him under the sheets and
enclosed him in his arms.  Then Skinner watched the late night news as
he absent-mindedly stroked Mulder's short hair.

The night news was about to end when Mulder had a nightmare again.  He
moaned and thrashed on the bed until Skinner held him tightly.  Mulder
quieted down in a minute.  Skinner noticed that he even cried in his
sleep.

He really had to discuss these nightmares with the agent.  Skinner had
Kimberly, his assistant, scour the city for any sleep study centers and
he planned to get Mulder to check into one at his next vacation.  He
had done some reading on sleep disturbances and he still wasn't sure
what Mulder's diagnosis was.  Mulder said that he had been having
nightmares for as long as he could remember and even attributed his
addiction to sunflower seeds to his nightmares.  He said that he used
to wake up feeling so abandoned but when he heard his father cracking
the seeds in his study, he would feel better.  It angered Skinner when
he learned that his parents had never done anything about these
nightmares when he was growing up.  If it was already distressing to
watch and hear an adult with such vivid night terrors, how could one
even tolerate a child's night terrors?  Mulder just shrugged his
shoulders and said that the family just thought it was just another
aspect of his weirdness.

Skinner learned after long association to just let Mulder sleep through
the nightmares because if he awakened him, Mulder had more vivid
memories of the dreams than if woke up in the morning with the
impression of having slept through the night.  The bad dreams and
nightmares had abated somewhat during the early months of their
relationship, but since the Arctic adventure, The Samantha dreams had
consistently troubled Mulder's sleep.
 
 

CHAPTER TEN

PHYSICAL'S INTERFERENCE
 

The biannual physical examination of all Bureau personnel finally came
to the letter M's and Mulder was summoned to the Bureau clinic as part
of the routine.  Mulder filled out the requisite forms but hesitated at
the questions was about whether he had ever engaged in intercourse with
a member of the same sex.

Mulder stared at the question for a full five minutes, not realizing
that he was starting to sweat.  Skinner and he never talked about how
much they were going to reveal in the official Bureau physical
examinations.  After another minute of intensely thinking about it,
Mulder finally checked the no response to that question.

His apprehension increased when he found out how thorough those
examinations were.  Mulder noticed with agitation that the bored Bureau
physician was telling him to turn on his side and was applying
lubricant to his index finger.   It was the rectal exam that caused the
physician to snap to alertness.

"Agent Mulder, you've never had surgery in the area before?" Dr. Reyes
asked.  Mulder shook his head and tensed as the doctor parted his
buttocks.  The doctor considered his records and the current form that
Mulder had filled out.

Once he was asked to dress, Mulder was told to wait in the doctor's
office.

"Agent Mulder, have you ever engaged in anal receptive intercourse?"
Dr. Reyes prodded.  "I must remind you that the information is
important healthwise.  And all your official medical records are
confidential, privy only to medical personnel and not to the rest of
the Bureau."

Mulder found that he couldn't meet the doctor's eye when he gave a
reluctant nod.  He was alarmed when the physician wrote down his
response in the chart and then asked when he last engaged in that
particular activity.  Mulder paused and didn't know how to answer it.
Instead, the doctor made it easy for him.

"You are currently in a relationship wherein you are anally receptive?"
Dr. Reyes asked.

Mulder swallowed and nodded.  It was the first time he'd ever had to
talk to someone in the Bureau about what went on between Skinner and
him in bed.

"Is this relationship monogamous or..."

"He's clean," Mulder blurted out.  "Monogamous, and we're both HIV
negative, Hepatitis B negative.  We see a doctor specializing in gay
health..."

"Are you practicing safe sex, Agent Mulder?" Dr. Reyes wanted to make
sure.  "Are you aware of safe sex practices or do you think we need to
review them together?

"I told you, we have a doctor," Mulder said through clenched teeth.  "I
told you we're strictly monogamous and we've never been with anyone
else for two years."

Dr. Reyes scrutinized him for a moment and was finally convinced that
he was telling the truth.  The agitation of the agent was quite obvious
and Dr. Reyes didn't want to upset him further.

"All right," Dr. Reyes said.  "You must be aware, however, that I will
have to note your sexual preference in the chart but that it would be
classified information and that your privacy will be paramount."

Mulder left the employee's clinic with these huge pamphlets on safe sex
practices and gay hotlines the doctor foisted on him.  He couldn't walk
down the Bureau hallways with such incriminating papers.  He ducked
into a restroom and dumped the pamphlets into a trash bin.  The Bureau
now had paper evidence of his sexual preference.  He couldn't deny he
was rattled.  Before he knew it, he made an unscheduled stop by
Skinner's office.

"Can I see the AD?" He tried to keep the desperate tone from his voice
as he stood in front of Kimberly's desk.  "As soon as possible,
please?"

"He's in a meeting right now, Agent Mulder," Kimberly said, frowning at
the schedule of appointments of her boss.  "He's all booked for the
morning.  Can I ask what about?"

"It's...it's personal, but it's important," Mulder hedged.

"I'll bring a note into the meeting," Kimberly said kindly although she
seriously doubted that Skinner would see him.  The AD hated to be
interrupted in a meeting, especially one that had budget planning in
the agenda.

This time, the AD surprised her when he emerged from his office after a
few minutes.  The look of relief on the agent's face was apparent and
the two of them talked out in the hallway.  Kimberly couldn't make out
what was being said, but from the look on Mulder's face, he was in
trouble again.  She shook her head; it was just like him to be in
trouble.

Out in the hallway, speaking in very low tones, Skinner listened to
Mulder's predicament.

"Walter, I had to tell him the truth," Mulder whispered urgently.
"He'd already examined me and I couldn't lie...but it's in my records."

"We can't do anything since those are official records, Fox," Skinner
said.  "But I know for a fact that those records really are
confidential."

Skinner wanted to take Mulder in his arms just to make him feel better
but he couldn't do that in the Hoover.  He didn't even give it a second
thought when he'd lied on his own medical examination a few months ago.
Of course, there wasn't anything for the physicians to find that would
make them suspicious, unlike Mulder.
 
 
 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

GREENS IN THE SAFEWAY, TEARS ON MY HALLMARK AND MORE BODY LESSONS
 

Mulder vaguely remembered Skinner waking up much earlier and telling
him he was going to church.  He stretched and yawned on the king-sized
bed.

Skinner always went to church on Sundays, something that Mulder found
incomprehensible.  He once joked and told the older man that all
religions he knew of condemned what they had between them, except
probably for Buddhism.  Skinner just shrugged but still went on his
merry way every Sunday.  He never gave up convincing Mulder to go with
him.

Mulder mused that a big part of the reason that Skinner attracted him
was the strong moral fiber that ran through the older man.  His
decisiveness on things and his real belief in duty, God, honor and
country were what molded most of his actions.

Skinner still regretted the failure of his marriage with Sharon, saying
that he should have worked better at the relationship, despite the
assistance of marriage counselors in a desperate attempt to patch
things up.  They even lasted more than fifteen years together but to no
avail.  He still called Sharon about twice a year on holidays to make
sure that she was all right; of course, he informed Mulder of his
intentions of keeping in touch with his ex-wife as an old friend.

As Mulder got up and took his morning shower, he thought about their
New York weekend.  When Skinner broached the idea, Mulder had been
wary, remembering the stares of the hospital staff in the small county
hospital when both of them first emerged in public as a couple.   The
prospect of a real vacation somewhere else with someone he loved was
too intriguing for Mulder and he swallowed his apprehension and agreed
to go there.

All his previous vacations since he started working at the FBI were
spent in his dark apartment, occasionally with some girl.  He never
liked going to new places and playing tourist alone.  Besides, with him
and Scully travelling around the country all the time, he felt he'd had
enough of leaving home.  But this Thanksgiving was an eye-opener for
him because it was really the first time he and Skinner ever really did
other things together aside from playing house at the cabin.  They
shared a lot of interests.  And they did things that Mulder knew
Skinner wouldn't have done at all, like watch the parade. He did it
because Mulder wanted to watch.

Mulder rinsed off under the spray of hot water, shutting his eyes from
the shampoo sloughing off of him.  As was his habit in the mornings, he
finished off with a brief blast of frigid water, enough to fully wake
up and face another day.  He was toweling off his hair in the bedroom
and choosing what to wear in front of the open closet when Skinner
entered with an envelope in his hand.  It was the card that Mulder
inadvertently left on the desk.  Mulder snatched the envelope from
Skinner.

"You're sending a letter to your father?" Skinner asked in a mild tone.

"It's his birthday in two days," Mulder said tightly, as his head went
through his T-shirt.  "It's a birthday card.  I always send them cards
when it's their birthday or Christmas."

Even when he never got one from them, Skinner mused.

After breakfast, they both got into the Range Rover with Mulder driving
and headed to the Safeway.  Skinner kept his cool and didn't say
anything as Mulder dropped the card into the mailbox.

Shopping for supplies was one of the few things they did together when
they were in the cabin.  From long practice, each got a cart and
started from opposite sides of the supermarket.  It was faster this way
although sometimes one of them would look for the other to consult
about some of the things that were needed.

Only a perceptive person would have spotted them as lovers because they
were rarely together in the supermarket.  Nor did they look alike at
all.  Skinner was still dressed in his Sunday going-to-church clothes
of blazer and trousers while Mulder was in his usual grunge weekend
outfit.  It still pained Skinner that Mulder dressed sloppily on
weekends, usually in a flannel shirt untucked and open with a ratty T-
shirt underneath and jeans with holes at the knees.

Skinner had enough of their arguments about the way Mulder dressed.
Although Skinner knew the clothes were clean, because he himself did
the laundry when they were in the cabin, sometimes he just got the urge
to either trash them or burn them.  Probably burn them, Skinner thought
a bit meanly, a grin spreading on his face.   One of the stark
reminders of their age difference was their attitude towards clothes.

Nevertheless, Mulder wore regular clothes more often and when he did,
he looked really handsome, younger than when he was in his FBI monkey
suits.  It wasn't far-fetched to say that Mulder in a nice sweater and
twills looked like a college student.  So young-looking, in fact, that
the AD was occasionally uncomfortable, with their age gap more
pronounced.

The AD was in the vegetable section when he looked up from the
asparagus and saw Mulder talking to some man.  He knew enough of
Mulder's body language to tell that his lover was upset.  Mulder veered
sharply from the man and angrily pushed his cart away.  The man
however, a man in his fifties, an executive type with graying hair,
lots of hair Skinner thought, persisted in following the agent.
Skinner surreptitiously followed them and after two aisles with Mulder
still unsuccessful in shaking off the man, he finally approached them.

"Mulder, do we still have eggs?" Skinner called innocently.  The gray-
haired man was startled and backed off when he saw that they were
together.  He probably backed off too when he saw Skinner's large
muscular frame.

Skinner nonchalantly continued to fill up his cart.  When they met at
the check out, he found Mulder had the characteristic set in his jaw
that told Skinner that the younger man was angry.  Once they were in
the car, Skinner driving this time, Mulder finally talked.

"You didn't have to 'rescue' me, Walter," Mulder said through clenched
teeth.  Skinner noted with irony that Mulder was starting to talk like
him.  "I could handle myself.  I've done it lots of times."

"I know, honey, you're a big boy," Skinner said, patting his knee. "I
don't want anyone to get hold of my Mulder.  I would've slugged him if
he so much as placed a finger on you."

The remark startled Mulder.  He never thought of how things looked like
from Skinner's point of view.   It was most likely that it was the
first time Skinner witnessed someone coming on to Mulder. He had been
more concerned with appearing unable to handle unwanted attention.

"You were jealous?" Mulder had to confirm it.  He had a funny feeling
in his stomach, liking the way Skinner had growled "my Mulder".

"Of course," Skinner said, after finally admitting it to himself.
"That guy wasn't bad-looking in a buttoned down sort of way, and he has
hair."

"But I'd never leave you," Mulder said in genuine puzzlement, as they
got into their driveway.  He never thought that Skinner felt insecure
about the way he looked.  Skinner smiled at him and softly kissed
Mulder before he stepped out of the Range Rover.

In an effort to prolong the weekend, both of them rarely left for DC
until early Monday mornings now.  As long as they left before seven
o'clock, they could be in the Hoover by nine.  So that Sunday night,
Skinner made love to Mulder, going at him so hard that the bed almost
got off its moorings.  The hard and rough stuff was a primal
declaration on Skinner's part as to whom Mulder belonged.

Skinner smiled as he heard the toilet flush.  Mulder always thought of
himself as the adventurous one but Skinner knew better.  He was proud
of the fact that almost all of the activities Mulder most enjoyed in
bed these days was something Skinner introduced.  It raised Skinner's
testosterone levels whenever he thought about the uptight New Englander
that shared his bed.

In spite of his previously extensive pornography collection which he
has since thrown out, Mulder was relatively inexperienced at sex.
Watching and reading about sex wasn't the same as actually performing
it.  Skinner was surprised when he found out that at the most Mulder
had three previous sexual partners, two of whom were conservative girl
next door types.  Mulder could still be embarrassed in bed, like the
time he begged off Skinner's kissing his anal region. Even if he could
tell Mulder was really turned on, Skinner stopped rimming him because
Mulder was upset with the idea that Skinner's mouth was constantly
"down there".

Skinner warmly embraced Mulder once he returned to bed.  Skinner saw
that Mulder was red-faced, embarrassed when he had to rush to the
bathroom after making love. Mulder saw it as a failing on the rare
occasions it happened, saying each time that he should clean up inside
more frequently when they were together.  Skinner's reassurances fell
on deaf ears each time, but Mulder was less upset about it now than he
used to be, grudgingly accepting this natural consequence of anal sex.
Skinner drew him close and Mulder slept, with Skinner still staying up
to watch late night TV and sniffing Mulder's bare skin and hair like
always, before falling asleep himself.
 
 

CHAPTER TWELVE

SCULLY IN THE DARK WITH HER DERMATOLOGIST
 
 
 

Scully was still curious as to the identity of Mulder's girlfriend.
Most, if not all weekends were taken up with his paramour.  Whereas
before, Scully would get all sorts of calls from him at the most unholy
hours especially on weekends, Mulder seemed fully occupied.

At least, he didn't have that hang dog expression on his face once
weekends and holidays neared.  Mulder  had a steady relationship for
two years running, as far as Scully could surmise.  However, she didn't
know if being the lover of a married older woman was such a good thing
for her partner.  Scully was aware that anytime one's friend avoided
talk about a lover, it wasn't a good thing.  Two years and Scully
didn't even know her name or any specifics about her.

All she was aware of was Mulder's growing crystal and soldier
collection on his shelves.   The whole shelf beside his aquarium was
filled with them, pushing the books into a corner of the room.  There
were foxes too all over the coffeetable and the Pooh bear still had
pride of place on his couch.

Surely Mulder must realize that such a relationship was just going to
hurt him very badly in the end, Scully mused.   Relationships in a
vacuum usually didn't survive in the real world of everyday pressures,
outside friends and work.   Sooner or later, he would have to emerge
from his weekend cocooning and show his girlfriend outside of the
confines of their weekend trysts.

The relationship had an overall good effect on her partner.  Mulder was
more considerate of her, a lot less selfish, informing her of cases
prior to another airplane ride to some godforsaken hole-in-the-wall
town.   It was a marked contrast to his previous technique of asking
her to be ready for pick-up in her apartment within the half-hour,
completely leaving her in the dark as to the case and to their
destination.

He didn't ditch her anymore and never forgot her birthday nor Christmas
presents.  She also noticed he didn't get into fights with Bureau
personnel and had a better control of his temper.  Maybe the
relationship matured him in some ways.  He whined much less and his
paperwork was much improved.  He also didn't shove his work onto her
desk anymore; before, he tried to get out of as much paperwork as
possible.

His humor was kinder also and less sarcastic. And he ceased with sexual
innuendoes that used to drive her up the wall.  He even once put down a
colleague's tasteless gay joke, wryly remarking that Agent Meade's
homophobia was a clear case of reaction formation.

Mulder's grooming was better, rumpled suits and shirts, unshaven face
and funny haircuts a thing of the past.  He also didn't get into
trouble with Skinner as often as he used to.

Scully was dating someone now for the past six months, a dermatologist
with a steady practice in downtown DC.  Mulder was less critical of him
also.  When she used to date, he was like some adolescent with a big
chip on his shoulder, warning Scully that the guy was not good enough
for her.  Scully only dated Mulder once, when he asked her out formally
a few months into their partnership.  Both of them knew that it
wouldn't work.  The dinner was filled with awkward fits and starts of
conversations, unsuccessful in steering their talk to more personal
levels but always ending up on a topic about work.  They knew each
other so well that there was no spark.

However, rumors still persisted that they were sleeping together,
especially with the women in the office.  She heard them talking once
in the restroom when she was in a stall.  They were wondering why
nothing came out of Mulder's date with a certain Amy from accounting.
Someone then remarked that he probably had eyes only for Scully.   If
they only knew, Scully thought as she rolled her eyes.  He wasn't just
having an affair with a married woman, he was even dating on the side.

Mulder finally entered the office at nine o'clock.  He always came to
the office just in the nick of time on Mondays.  Scully suspected that
his girlfriend had a weekend place in the country.  She wondered what
her husband did, such that Mulder could see his girlfriend almost every
weekend.  And as usual, Mulder looked particularly happy and relaxed on
Monday mornings.

He put up his suit jacket on the rack and greeted Scully breezily.
This light-hearted Mulder was definitely different from his old self.
She refrained from raising her eyebrow at him.  With this relationship
going on for years now, they were past that, especially with her not
wanting to be teased about what she and her boyfriend did on their
dates.

She showed him the files VCS sent them as possible X-files, and Scully
recommended some of the more likely cases.  He valued her opinions more
and trusted her judgement.  They discussed various theories for some of
the more unusual cases and Scully was glad that Mulder followed her
recommendation.  She started the paperwork on the travel vouchers and
made arrangements with accounting.  They were all set to go to Florida
in two hours.
 
 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

WALTER'S TURN

The Florida case was a killer.  Major footwork and the oppressive heat
served to make them miserable. Mulder was glum because they weren't
able to squeeze time out to go to Disneyworld, something Mulder was
hoping to do.  Like always, their clothes were wrong for the heat and
he and Scully had to go around in sticky smelly wool clothes because
their emergency clothes in the trunks of their respective cars were for
the early spring weather.

Also, Mulder had been bothered because he was inordinately attracted to
Scully throughout the whole trip.  She wore thin blouses without her
suit jacket, and he kept staring at her breasts surreptitiously. He
literally fawned on Scully on this trip out of DC, holding doors for
her and never missing a chance to put his hand on the small of her
back.  Then when she wasn't looking, he'd sneak a peek at her breasts
straining against her blouse and brassiere, feeling like a heel as he
did so.  He didn't know if she saw him doing that.  Being enchanted by
his partner compounded his discomfort in the Florida case.

Sometimes, he still stared at women, especially when he was caught
unawares. The softness of breasts, the softness of women's skins, it's
been so long since he held the wonder of the opposite sex. Skinner was
anything but soft, every ridge of muscle standing out especially in the
throes of lovemaking.   However, even with the intoxicating attractions
of women, Mulder wasn't about to trade Skinner, not with the AD being
the most important person in Mulder's life.

The trip back home was in the middle of the night, another factor for
their weary state by the time they got off the plane.  The moment he
entered his apartment, Mulder checked his answering machine and was
discomfited to find no messages from Skinner.  Even at eleven o'clock,
Mulder had to hear Skinner's voice.

The telephone was answered after about seven rings.

"Skinner."  Mulder was heard the hoarse voice of his lover.

"It's Fox," Mulder frowned.  "Walter, you okay?"

Skinner gave a rattling cough, which worried Mulder.

"I've been stuck in bed since Tuesday," Skinner's voice was reduced to
a hoarse whisper.  "Cough, high fever, sore throat...the works.  In
fact, I feel much better compared to yesterday."

When Mulder hung up, he was uneasy.  He knew that Skinner didn't want
them to see each other in DC to prevent any slip-ups that might occur.
But all he could remember was Skinner being there for him in the cabin
after he himself was so ill.  Impulsively Mulder got up from the couch
and grabbed his jacket and went out the door.

Skinner answered the door after a few minutes.  This was only the
second time Mulder stepped in here and he noted that the housekeeper
kept the place spic and span.  Skinner was too tired to argue. He
didn't look too well.  He briefly checked if any one saw Mulder but no
one was on the street and the neighbors were asleep.

"I know I'm not supposed to be here," Mulder said to appease the older
man, "but I just had to see if you're okay.  I promise to leave before
Mrs. Jackson gets here tomorrow."

He followed Skinner up to the second floor, marveling at the huge house
with all the fine and expensive things.  It was theorist time he ever
got to the second floor and he was fascinated in seeing another facet
of Skinner's life.

Skinner's room had a four poster bed with antique dark cherry
furniture.  There was even a fireplace.  Mulder saw pictures of Skinner
and his parents on the mantelpiece.  Skinner resembled his dad closely
and he was amazed at how good looking Skinner was in his youth when he
still had a whole set of hair.  There were even a family picture of
baby Walter with his parents. It was fairly obvious that Skinner was
well loved growing up in this house.   Mulder marveled at Skinner's
wedding picture, looking young, earnest and handsome.

"Look at the right, Fox," Skinner murmured as he got back into bed,
shivering under the covers.  Mulder's eyes fell onto the right side of
the mantelpiece and he gasped when he saw that Skinner had his picture
in a small frame.  He grinned and his heart warmed.  It was one Skinner
snapped at last summer's FBI picnic.  Scully was beside him when it was
taken but Skinner had blown up the picture and cut out Scully.

"I don't have your picture anywhere in my apartment," Mulder said
mournfully.

"I know, honey," Skinner muttered drowsily.  "Scully might see it."

Mulder clumsily fussed over Skinner, checking his temperature and
making sure he was comfortable.  Skinner didn't want him on the same
bed, saying that he didn't want Mulder to catch his virus.  It sure
felt better with Mulder being in the house with him even if it did
break one of their major rules.  He'd been miserable for the past two
days with the cough and fever. Mulder gave him a Tylenol and left him
alone as he fell back onto the couch and made a nest for himself with
pillows and extra blankets.

As promised, Mulder woke up the next morning at five thirty and left
the house after kissing the sleeping Skinner good bye.  The familiar
tendrils of depression were starting in his brain again.  He wondered
how long they could keep up with the subterfuge just so they could keep
their pretense of being part of normal society.

Skinner was infected with an ordinary flu virus.  However, Mulder would
have felt better if he could see Skinner through this everyday, just to
make sure he was doing all right.  Now he knew how Skinner must have
felt when he was holed up in the cabin with the nurses the whole time
he was recovering from the alien virus.  As it was, they probably
couldn't even go to the cabin for the weekend since Skinner wasn't well
yet.  It was exhausting having to maintain certain precautions to
prevent discovery all the time.

Scully was persistent in pursuing her line of questioning regarding his
"mystery woman".  Mulder had to bite his tongue.  Concocting too
elaborate a story would only make her more suspicious.  Fortunately for
Mulder, Scully wasn't privy to the AD's whereabouts or else a light
bulb would go off in her head once she realized that Skinner and Mulder
were both in New York at the same time.  It was simply luck that she
never connected their weekend disappearances.

Skinner was his lover but sometimes Mulder wished he could talk about
him with Scully who was his best friend.  She was a good friend; Mulder
was uncertain if she would still be his friend if she found out he had
a gay relationship with their boss.

It was just Mulder's lucky break that she was preoccupied recently with
her boyfriend.  She said that the dermatologist proposed marriage twice
already and she was still thinking about it.  Mulder wondered what she
was waiting for but he never pried into her love life the way she
wanted to pry in his.  He envied her being able to receive calls from
her boyfriend wherever part of the country they were.  He often heard
her side of the conversation when the door to their adjoining motel
rooms were ajar.  Mulder just wished that he could get calls from his
"boyfriend" too.
 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DADDY'S PRICE

The flu bug prevented another cabin weekend until two weeks after.
Mulder was gratified to find Skinner's Range Rover in the driveway.
His key was still rattling in the lock when the door flew open.  A
strong arm grabbed him and pulled him inside.

Skinner was all over him deeply kissing him.  Mulder laughed with
surprise and joy and kissed him back.

"Aren't you going to say...you're happy to see me?" Mulder pretended to
push the older man off him.

"I'm...happy to...see you," Skinner responded obediently between
kisses.  All the while, his hands wandered over Mulder's chest,
unraveling the silk tie, unbuttoning the oxford shirt.  Mulder tried to
help in hitching up his shirttail from his trousers, but Skinner
literally drew his breath away so heated were his kisses.

Mulder dazedly checked the curtains, which were already drawn shut.  By
the time they got to the couch, clothes were strewn everywhere.  Mulder
tried to slow down his lover by pausing to pull off his socks.
Instead, the older man's actions grew more urgent.  With Mulder's head
bent, Skinner simply kissed the back of his neck.

"Hey, Walt," Mulder cautioned.  "I'm stale.  I haven't showered..." His
words were drowned under a barrage of tongue sparring.

"Stale is good," Skinner growled.  After two week's deprivation of
access to Mulder's body and not being able to do anything about it even
if they saw each other everyday at the office, the AD wasn't about to
wait another minute.

"Uuuh...shii..." Mulder exclaimed as Skinner dove between his legs.
The younger man writhed as Skinner swallowed him whole.  Before he knew
it, Mulder found himself sitting up on the couch with his knees drawn
up and apart and Skinner kneeling on the floor, enthusiastically
devouring him.  He nearly shrieked with pleasure when Skinner took his
testicle to his mouth.  And nearly fainted with delight when Skinner
rimmed him.

Skinner dipped a finger at the mucus that had pooled from Mulder's
penis onto his lower abdomen then added it to the saliva on Mulder's
anus.  He pulled Mulder's hips to the very edge of the couch then
poised himself from above, his own erection so thick and hard and
nearly painful.

Skinner plunged in, hissing at the tightness.  But something was wrong.
Instead of the blissful expression Mulder normally exhibited upon being
penetrated, Mulder went rigid.

"It hurts, Walter!" Mulder trembled as he gasped from underneath
Skinner's large frame.

Skinner realized what was happening and withdrew at once from Mulder.
This was the only time he hurt Mulder in that way except for the first
time they had intercourse.

"I'm sorry, honey," Skinner murmured raining kisses on Mulder's neck
and mouth.  He winced in sympathy when he saw a tear of pain from one
eye as Mulder's erection suddenly went limp.   "Sorry, baby."

Skinner took a deep breath and forced himself to slow down.  Despite
his erection bobbing mightily before him, Skinner ran up to the
bedroom, grabbed the lubricant from the nightstand and ran down again.
Mulder had to be won back with kisses and massage and when Skinner saw
that Mulder was back to being aroused, Skinner lubricated him much more
generously and tried again, from behind this time.   Mulder was more
relaxed and was able to take him to the hilt.

Skinner's rhythmic grunts filled the living room punctuated by Mulder's
gasps.  They were on the floor with Mulder kneeling and Skinner behind
him.  Mulder writhed in pleasure as Skinner took his erect penis in
hand and masturbated him.  Sometimes Skinner stopped his in and out hip
motion and just caressed his lover's member.  Then Skinner resumed his
maddening rhythm and both of them came simultaneously.

"I'm sorry, Fox," Skinner gasped as he pulled out and checked Mulder's
perianal area at once.  He sighed with relief when he saw that there
was no blood.  Mulder's orifice was still open and dripping with
Skinner's semen in the usual post coital state so Skinner got some
paper towels from the kitchen and cleaned up his lover and checked him
over again. "Are you okay now?

"Yes," Mulder was always sleepy after sex and was starting to drift off
on the couch.  "It's just it burned really bad for a minute there."

Skinner cleaned himself then got dressed.  He returned to the couch and
took Mulder in his arms as the agent slept.  He guiltily showered
kisses on Mulder's face as he stroked Mulder's torso.  He draped the
afghan on the nude body of the younger man.

Their Baltimore doctor emphasized to him the importance of preparing
Mulder for penetration each time they had sex.  It was Skinner's
responsibility to prevent injuries in the area or else they would be in
for uncomfortable trips to a colorectal surgeon.  With Mulder always
the recipient in their sexual encounters, he was more prone to have
problems in the future if Skinner wasn't careful.  His eagerness for
Mulder should never be an excuse for hurting the younger man.  Skinner
got up after a while and continued preparing dinner.

When everything was ready, he shook Mulder awake.  The younger man
stretched like a cat and looked around for his clothes all over the
house.  He finally found his shorts and shirt, put it on and gingerly
sat on his chair at the kitchen table.  He relaxed when sitting didn't
hurt and Skinner sighed with relief.

Mulder was in a good mood and was chattier than usual about his week.
Skinner knew that part of his good mood was due to Mulder jumping a
grade in the pay scale for a high efficiency rating.  It had been
months since Skinner last received a new incident report about the
agent from some Bureau employee.  Mulder was already learning to play
well with others.

With the dinner things cleared, Skinner laid his briefcase on the
dinner table and brought out some papers for Mulder to sign again.
Skinner always told him to read whatever he was signing but Mulder had
complete trust in Skinner.  Sometimes, Skinner made an effort to
explain to Mulder what stocks he had and where specifically his money
was going but Mulder's eyes would glaze over in boredom and his
attention would conveniently be diverted somewhere else.  Today, Mulder
seemed more interested than usual.

"Do you think I have enough money to move to a better apartment?"
Mulder asked.  Skinner had been hounding him about that especially the
past week.  He knew that there was another break-in at a neighbor on
the third floor just a week ago.

"Actually, you can already buy a house if you want," Skinner said with
a twinkle in his eyes.

"How much money do I have now?" Mulder wondered flabbergasted.

"I've fattened up your portfolio so in terms of non-liquid assets, you
have close to ninety thousand dollars now," Skinner laughed at Mulder's
open-mouthed gape.  "I must emphasize that I didn't add anything to
your nest egg.  It's all your money.  But remember, it's not liquid."

He knew that Mulder was sensitive about Skinner giving him money even
as gifts.  He said he didn't want to feel like he was Walter's kept man
because their relationship was mutually agreed on.

Mulder pondered on his sudden wealth.  He never thought it would be so
big.  He asked Skinner on more specifics and Skinner showed him just
where his stocks and bonds and treasury bills were.  Mulder kissed him
when Skinner repeated to him that he loved him and that he didn't want
to needlessly worry about Mulder's future.  Then he repeated his plea
for Mulder to move to a nicer neighborhood and Mulder said that he will
start looking next week.

As Mulder drifted off to sleep that night, snug in Skinner's embrace as
the older man watched the late news, his last thoughts were of how
lucky he was that they found each other.   Mulder burrowed more deeply
into Skinner's embrace in his sleep and Skinner gently shifted his arm
to get more comfortable.

Mulder had almost gained back most of the weight he lost and no more
sharp bones jutted out from odd angles from his hips, elbows and knees.
He was back to swimming laps in the Bureau pool and his muscle mass was
back.  He was still a good cuddler and managed to make his body small
enough for Skinner to completely enfold him in his arms.  When Skinner
asked him earlier how well he was sleeping in his apartment when he was
alone, Skinner found out that Mulder still had horrific nightmares.

Skinner admonished him to call him when that happened but sometimes,
Mulder didn't want to disturb him and resorted to Scully.  That had
made Skinner angry and he was seriously considering checking him into
the sleep study center but because Mulder recently had a hospital
experience which he hated, Skinner was just waiting for the right
opportunity.

Mulder woke up the next day with Skinner stroking him.  By his gentle
hands, Mulder knew that Skinner just wanted to hold him.  He was
usually more insistent when he wanted sex.  Mulder luxuriated in the
older man's arms.  Skinner was sniffing him again.  He used to be
embarrassed when Skinner did this but he was now used to it.

Skinner said that he was crazy about the way Mulder smelled and would
spend long minutes with his nose buried in his hair and neck, his chest
and even his armpits.  Mulder kissed the baldhead of his lover.  It was
a lazy Saturday morning and they had all the time in the world.

The chime of the doorbell rudely pulled them out of each other's arms.
Mulder had never even heard the doorbell in all the years he'd been
here with Skinner on weekends.

"Who's down there?" his voice diminished to an agitated whisper.

Skinner leapt out of bed, pulling on his shorts and trying to struggle
into his dressing gown in one movement.  He peeped out the window
through the curtains, squinting at the red car on the driveway.

"I'll get it," he said.  "You stay here."

As he left the bedroom and went down the stairs, he knew his request to
Mulder to stay put fell on deaf ears.  However, Skinner breathed a sigh
of relief when he recognized the very familiar silhouette framed by the
floor-length window by the door.

Without hesitation, he welcomed the surprise guest.

"Sharon," he was genuinely glad to see her, despite her unannounced
appearance at his doorstep.  She was looking very well indeed.  The
divorce had been good for her, clearing the lines around her mouth and
between her eyebrows, lines he'd caused to prematurely age her.  She
had a new hairdo and a new color.

Sharon leaned forward, expecting a friendly kiss from her ex-husband.
His obvious hesitation only drew an amused laugh from her.  She could
tell what he'd been doing.  After all, she used to be his wife.  He had
the rumpled look of having had a very busy night.

"No kiss for your ex-wife?" she mercilessly teased.  She was even more
surprised as he blushed, then his jaws tightened when both of them
heard the unmistakable creak of someone walking upstairs.

"Walter, I took a chance to see if you were here," she finally
explained, dumping a small gift-wrapped box into his hand.  "I'm
spending the weekend at Edith's and with your birthday in three weeks,
I thought to give you this in advance."

Skinner smiled at the pleasant surprise.    He was unaware she still
saw Edith, the friend she made on the weekends they used to spend here.
Edith lived two miles away, a widow in her seventies.

"Would you like to come in and have a cup of coffee?" Skinner opened
the door wider for her, gathering up his courage in case Mulder
suddenly appeared in the background.

"No, I'm not here to interrupt," she said kindly.  She turned towards
the Camry, making it plain that she was aware of the Bureau plates on
it.  He had a new life without her but she refrained from remarking
that he hadn't looked far for a new lover.  "Do I know her?  No, don't
answer that.  I'm not playing fair."

"Sharon...thank you for the gift," Skinner said.  "I appreciate it."
He leaned down to kiss her cheek softly.

She waved at him then hopped into her little red car and sped off.

Skinner watched her leave and relaxed.

"What did Sharon want?" Mulder's annoyed voice came from the stairway.
He'd heard their exchange at the door.

"Nothing," Skinner shut the front door.  "She dropped off my birthday
gift.  Mulder, she has a boyfriend, if that's what you want to know."

Mulder was affronted by his lover calling him Mulder.

"But if she isn't as serious about her boyfriend as I am with mine,"
Mulder proprietarily put an arm over Skinner's shoulder.  "It doesn't
matter if she has a boyfriend or not.  Besides, you know what they say
about the passion of exes for each other."

"I'm your boyfriend?" Skinner turned Mulder around to face him.  The
last time anyone called him boyfriend was in college, where he'd met
Sharon.  "Your serious boyfriend?"

"Yes, you're my serious boyfriend.  What else are you?"  Mulder
squirmed in his grasp, very much aware that Skinner had the teasing
tone and was poised to tickle him at any moment.

"It's been years since I was a boyfriend," Skinner's playful words were
drowned out as he sucked on Mulder's neck.  "Does that mean I have a
boyfriend, too?"

"Cut it out, Walter," Mulder gasped when Skinner's hand strayed down to
caress his butt.  "You keep away from Sharon and I'll keep away from
Linda at the typing pool, and Amy in accounting, and..."

This time it was Skinner's turn to stop cold.  Linda in the typing
pool?  She was a new one.

"Linda?"

"Linda Harris, the cute perky blonde," Mulder squirmed again and was
finally released from Skinner's grasp.  "She keeps bumping into me."

"Fox, she's all of nineteen."  Skinner was flabbergasted.   Just as he
feared, with Mulder looking so much younger than his age, pretty young
things were emerging from the woodwork.

"Walter, she's twenty-two, but that doesn't stop her from bumping into
me," Mulder wryly uttered, quite aware of the degree of his
possessiveness after seeing Skinner kiss his ex.  Gosh, he'd stoop this
low to make Skinner jealous.  The older man had the beginnings of a
scowl.  To make up, Mulder pecked him on the nose.  "I told you,
Walter...I'm serious about my boyfriend."

"You better tell that Linda your boyfriend has big muscles."

Mulder laughed at the unlikely scenario.  Skinner left him to take his
shower, after swatting him on the butt to remind him who had the bigger
set of muscles.

Mulder was in his room when Skinner got out of the bathroom.  The agent
appropriated one of the bedrooms as his study, moving the computer into
it and filling it with his paranormal books and research.  It was okay
with Skinner because he knew that Mulder needed his space.

The whole house was his and it was the least he could do for the
younger man.   He rarely entered it unless he was specifically invited
although he checked it occasionally to make sure that the room wasn't
becoming a fire hazard.  It also kept the rest of the house cleaner
since Mulder was less inclined to leave his mess all over the place.

"Hey, boyfriend, I'm going fishing!" Skinner yelled from downstairs.
"Any specific requests?"

"Trout's okay!" Mulder yelled back.

Skinner was in a very good mood on this lovely spring day.  Being on
such friendly terms with his ex-wife, plus the teasing exchange with
Mulder gave him a peace he hadn't known since he was a little kid.
Fishing was simply the icing on the cake.  He recalled the old times
when he was a little boy and his father brought him to this same lake.

It still was one big regret for Skinner that he never had children and
the way things were going, it seemed like he was never going to have
any.  He wanted to revise his will to leave everything to Mulder once
he was dead but he still hadn't built the courage to reveal to his
lawyer about their unconventional relationship.

Although his hypertension was well controlled he knew that he was far
from young and with their jobs putting them in occasional dangerous
situations he had to revise it soon.

Predictably, he knew that Mulder had no will of his own and it was
something he had to discuss with the younger man.  It wouldn't surprise
Skinner if Mulder decided to leave everything to his parents and he
wouldn't resent him for that. Mulder still had a huge hang-up regarding
his parents and he still hadn't overcome it.   It was just important
that those affairs like wills were arranged especially in an agent's
life.

Skinner caught two fish and headed back to the boathouse.  He got off
the boat and onto the pier.  He whirled around when he heard the creak
of careful footsteps.  A stranger stepped from the shadows.

The man was in his sixties and spoke in a familiar voice.  Pasty-faced
from alcohol, receding thinning hair.   Bill Mulder.

"You keep your filthy hands off my son, AD Skinner," Bill Mulder spat
out, disgust and loathing emanating from his every pore.  "I've known
about this hideaway for close to a year.  At first I thought it was a
passing fancy.  Fox gets into these enthusiastic binges.  I'm sure you
know that by now.

"I have enough nasty pictures of you buggering him.  Sending one to the
Director and fabricating a harassment complaint from Fox will finish
you in the Bureau.  I don't want Fox to lose his job but I don't care
about yours.

"Stay away from my boy, Skinner.  If his mother finds out this will
kill her, like it almost did the last time.  If you still have him here
next week, Fox will file sexual harassment charges, you pervert.  The
OPR won't even notice forged papers, especially with incriminating
photographs.

"You won't stand a chance in any court with those charges, Mr. Skinner.
You have a history of seducing younger men.  This time, you made a huge
mistake.  Fox is your subordinate and you of all people know how the
federal government feels about that.  I've been on to you it's all well
documented.  Each time you sodomize my boy, each time you suck his
young cock, I know.  Skinner...stay away from Fox."
 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

STAYING AWAY

Skinner was caught off guard and was speechless. The floor was
literally kicked out from under him.  Bill Mulder abruptly left the
boathouse, slamming the door behind him.  The moment Skinner rushed
after him, he was nowhere to be found.  The AD strained his ears for
any car or boat engine, any sign of where Bill Mulder disappeared to.

Despite his mental turmoil, Skinner was aware how easily the elder
Mulder can carry out his threats.

They had taken pains for years to make their relationship a secret.
Now Skinner would have to keep
secrets from Mulder as well.  If Mulder ever found out what his father
knew and what he threatened to do, it would be too much for him.

Skinner walked around the grounds some more to think about the
situation.  He went over all the possible scenarios in his mind. He
could afford to leave the Bureau but Mulder would be implicated if
charges did indeed get filed against him.  Mulder wouldn't be fired
from the Bureau, but the succeeding repercussions would ultimately
cause him to resign.  The agents whose sexual preferences were widely
known were not field agents.  Mulder would have a difficult time
finding a similar job that was so important for him in finding his
sister.  Furthermore, the publicity of the charges would break Mulder's
faint hope of ever reconciling with his mother at least.  At the same
time, if Skinner ceased their relationship abruptly, Mulder might be
driven to god knows what.

..................................

Skinner spent hours out in the woods such that Mulder became worried
and looked for him.  He checked the boathouse and his disquiet
increased when he saw that the things were in disarray, with the fish
on the deck.  Skinner usually cleaned his catch by the lake.

Mulder grew increasingly concerned when he took in the way Skinner had
left the fishing gear in the boat.  The older man was religious in
keeping his equipment in pristine condition.

"Walter!" Mulder called out as he stood on the docks.  He scanned the
serene water of the lake.  Was his lover a victim of a freak accident?
He called out Walter's name again, his voice cast with a sudden edge of
fear.

Relief washed over him when Skinner emerged from the north end of the
woods.  He walked stiffly, with his arms over his chest, his eyes red
rimmed.  He shied away from Mulder when the younger man reached out for
him.

"Are you okay?" Mulder asked, hurt by Skinner's rebuff.

"Let's go back inside," Skinner muttered.  He roughly grabbed the fish
from Mulder's hand and entered the cabin by the back door.

What is with him? Mulder wondered as he followed Skinner back to the
cabin.

"You hungry?  We could try that new Italian place," Mulder tried to
make light of it. Skinner was rarely in a bad mood and when he was,
Mulder knew enough to keep away from him. It was one thing for Skinner
to be in a bad mood in the office, but here in the cabin with Mulder,
Skinner was consistently even tempered.  "Unless you want the fish..."

Skinner didn't answer him.  Instead, the older man dumped the fish into
the sink.  On the chopping board, he cut off the trout heads and
efficiently gutted them.

What did I do now? Mulder's thoughts raced through his actions for the
day.  He watched Skinner clean the fish, something he never did in the
cabin before.  The older man's movements were jerky and angry.  He
basically ignored Mulder who had hitched himself up onto the kitchen
counter to watch the proceedings from a safer distance.

Once the offal was disposed, Skinner abruptly left the kitchen.  Mulder
followed behind.  Maybe now Walter was willing to talk.  However,
Skinner shut the bedroom door to his face.  Mulder went cold.
That never happened before.

Mulder was at a loss.  He tried to remember if he did something wrong
and in his usual way, he knew he was at fault again.  At first, he
passed the time reading and watching television.  Then he fooled around
with Skinner's laptop.  Two hours later, Skinner still hadn't emerged
from the bedroom.  Mulder kept busy cleaning the house and even had his
study neat as a pin and the porch without a trace of a sunflower seed.
He was so good he was becoming cross-eyed.  Skinner ignored Mulder's
knocks.

When he'd had enough, Mulder entered the bedroom quietly.  He found his
lover watching television and the flickering light from the set
illuminated his grim face.

Mulder looked so uncertain and a bit frightened that Skinner's guilt
overwhelmed him.  He allowed Mulder into his embrace.  The AD shut his
eyes in pain when he felt how relieved Mulder was.

"Can't breathe," Mulder complained, pulling away.  "Uhm, Walter, d-did
I do something?"

"No, honey," Skinner's voice cracked.  "It's just me, okay? I just
needed time to think things over."

"What things?" Mulder was curious.

Skinner shook his head and refused to elaborate.

That night, Mulder tried to interest Skinner in sex but he could not.
The older man kept thinking that they were being watched or bugged.  He
was able to wriggle out of it by lying to Mulder that he didn't want to
get Mulder too sore after last night's episode.

That Sunday, Skinner went to church as usual and thought things over
again.  Once he got back to the cabin, Mulder was still asleep.  He
shook the agent awake and told him he had to go back to DC on urgent
business.

He lied and said that Agent Hawkes had called and requested his
assistance on a case.  He warmly kissed Mulder a good bye and told him
to close up the house for the weekend.

Mulder was climbing up the wall by the time the week rolled.  Skinner
wasn't returning his calls.  On the off-chance of finding his lover at
home, Mulder drove by his house only to be disappointed when the house
was dark and empty.

Mulder made some discreet inquiries and discovered Skinner called
Hawkes last Sunday and not the other way around.  Skinner still saw him
in the office but always with Scully and never alone.  He wouldn't look
him in the eye either. By Thursday, Mulder asked to see Skinner alone.
However, Kimberly regretfully relayed Skinner's denial of his request.

Then Kimberly released Skinner's memo of going on a month's leave of
absence and with AD Ashcraft taking up the slack.

A short typewritten note from Skinner appeared in Mulder's mail.
Skinner claimed he needed time to rest and didn't want Mulder to
follow.

Mulder waited out the month as patiently as he could.  Things were bad
at work with Ashcraft at it again and in addition, Scully snapped
unnecessarily at him.

She was still hovering uncertainly over her own love affair with the
dermatologist.  She rightly suspected that all was not well with
Mulder's love life but all her energies were being focused on her own
problems.  She was engaged now and was sporting a ring but the ring was
starting to chafe.

Scully was shaken out of her self-absorption one night when she entered
the basement office and found Mulder quietly crying at the inner room
of the office.

"Mulder?" Scully asked with alarm.  It was the first time she ever saw
Mulder weeping, not just teary-eyed from stress or pain.  Mulder didn't
hear her as he gave way to full-throated sobs.  "Oh, Mulder, what's
wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Mulder grew aware of someone else in the room.  He abruptly clamped
down on his sorrow, very much irritated that Scully didn't choose to
leave him alone in his misery.

"Nothing," Mulder and mopped his face and blew his nose into his
handkerchief.  "It's nothing."

He straightened up and shakily fled to his desk, chagrined beyond words
that Scully found him this way.  Mulder failed in attempting to appear
busy tidying his workspace.  He turned his back on his partner so she
couldn't see his face.  "Scully, g-go home.  It's late."

"Mulder..."

"Ashcraft hauled me over the coals again," Mulder said through gritted
teeth.  His mind grasped for a feeble excuse. "The search warrant on
the Richmond extortion case was invalid.  The evidence is
useless...Scully, it's nine o'clock.  We don't have to talk about this.
I'm bushed."

Scully put out a tentative hand on his back.  When he didn't resist,
she patted him sympathetically.

"Shit, Scully," Mulder moaned.  He couldn't keep the well of hurt
inside.  It was bubbling out of him.  "Please...leave."

"It's not about Ashcraft or the search warrant, is it Mulder?" Scully
said softly.  She carefully stroked a shoulder blade.  "This is about
your girlfriend, isn't it?"

Mulder drew in a breath then sighed with resignation.  He angrily
dabbed at his eyes once again.  Finally, he turned his face enough so
Scully could see the pain in him.  "It's over, Scully...it's over."

"I'm sorry, Mulder," Scully said quietly.  "Is there anything I can
do?"

Just as she feared from the beginning of what she correctly surmised
was a messy affair: Mulder was going to end up badly hurt.  Mulder
shook his head in response to her question.

"How about we try the new Greek place on Pennsylvania?  I heard it was
good," Scully impulsively invited him.

"Moussaka won't do the trick here, I'm afraid," Mulder tiredly brushed
her off.  "Scully, what I need is to be alone right now."

"Give me a call if you need anything," Scully reached out and squeezed
his hand.

When Mulder reached home, he checked his answering machine but still no
word from Skinner.  The devastation and hurt was replaced with anger.
He restlessly paced his small apartment then spied the soldiers and
crystal animals on his shelf.  The urge to smash all the soldiers and
foxes nearly overwhelmed him, but Mulder tamped down on the destructive
impulse.  He banished the Pooh bear to the back of his closet shelf.
Then he took out an empty box and carefully packed his collection.
 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DADDY'S PRIZE
 

Skinner came back exactly in one month and Scully wondered why he
didn't seem rested at all from his vacation.  Weight loss was visible
on his frame.  The eyeglasses failed to disguise the dark circles under
his eyes.

Whenever Mulder and Scully were called to the AD's office, the tension
was horrific and more than once, Scully thought the AD was being unfair
by yelling at her partner unnecessarily.  In fact, the whole department
that Skinner handled was on their toes because his fuse was unusually
short.  In turn, everyone, even Kimberly his assistant, had short fuses
as well.

A week later, after Skinner came back to the Bureau, Mulder was
unpleasantly surprised when he saw that Skinner was waiting for him
outside his building.  It took all of Mulder's self-control not to
punch him out.  This was the only person to whom Mulder literally bared
himself, body and soul, who'd seen him through the peaks and valleys of
extreme pleasure and searing pain.  Then cruelly left him out to dry
without so much as an explanation.  In the month of Skinner's absence,
Mulder had shut off his feelings, vowing that no one will ever hurt him
in such a way again.

Mulder clenched his hands at his sides, his emotions warring within
him.  With the coldest eyes he could muster, he faced Skinner.

"Can we talk?" The older man was brusque and uncomfortable, enough to
give Mulder a tiny sense of triumph.  At least we know who's wronged
here, Mulder thought.  He told himself he didn't feel uncomfortable as
they rode up the tiny elevator together.  The agent convinced himself
that he felt nothing as he allowed Skinner inside his apartment.

Skinner noted the empty shelves that once held the collection.  He
swallowed hard, trying to steel himself against the hurt he was going
to inflict again on the younger man.  It was infinitely harder on
Skinner because he knew exactly what was going on.

"Mulder..."

The agent stiffened, the wind blowing out of his sails.  So he was
Mulder, not Fox anymore.

"I had a month to think about all this," Skinner stared at the crooked
print on the wall.  "I can't do this anymore."  Skinner lamely relayed
the likeliest excuse he could come up with, that he could not live with
the moral dilemma of having a homosexual relationship since he couldn't
reconcile it with his religion.  It was a reason plucked out of
nowhere.

Mulder dumbly stared at Skinner, speechless in the face of another
rejection.  He numbly noted that Skinner had his briefcase with him and
was giving Mulder his financial papers and some diskettes about his
money matters.  Then he told Mulder to please go to the cabin this
weekend and get all his things and to leave his key under the kitchen
door mat.

Skinner mistakenly assumed Mulder's cold silence to be anger instead of
the stunned bewilderment that it was.  He walked out on Mulder,
shutting the door between them with finality.  Before getting into his
car, Skinner checked around the building and saw another man lingering
by the building.

"I did as you asked," Skinner said seething at the older man.  "Now
please make a call or go up to him.  I don't know what he's capable of
doing right now."

He turned and left.  Once he got to the car, he saw Bill Mulder make a
call from the phone booth across the street.  Skinner didn't know if he
was doing the right thing.

After much thought, he acquiesced to Bill Mulder's demand with a demand
of his own.  He told Mr. Mulder that he would only stop the
relationship if Bill Mulder would regularly call his son at the minimum
of once a week and to see him once a month.  Skinner told him that he
would monitor all of Mulder's calls and that two can play the game.  If
Bill Mulder missed so much as a weekly call, Skinner threatened that he
was perfectly capable of getting Mulder back.   He also specifically
said that Bill Mulder's calls were to be restricted to general topics
with no blame on anything to be heaped on the son.

It was the most Skinner could get out of the situation: that Mulder
would at least benefit from his father's company, even if it were
forced.  Skinner refused to dwell on the Oedipal implications of this
set up.

Skinner then bowed his head and wept.
 
 

END OF BACCARAT FIGURINES