BACCARAT FIGURINES IV (2/3)by Sean Spencer
seans13@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: SRA
RATING: NC-17 Slash (Sk/M)
WARNING: Explicit but always loving consensual sex between members of
the same sex.
SPOILERS: none
KEYWORDS: Skinner/Mulder, Slash
ATXC: no
ARCHIVE: yes
SUMMARY: The six-year honeymoon is over as Mulder and Skinner really
start living together. Bombers, books and boxes abound. As do cookies
and chocolate.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DUAL MOMS
Mrs. Jackson smiled as she heard a muttered curse from Skinner. The
two were helping her move to her apartment. She sold her house,
because it was now too big for one and her new apartment was nicely
pleasant, situated in a big old house. It wasn't far from her friends
and was nearer the grocery and the library than where she used to live.
It was a good thing that it was just on the first floor, so that the
two tall men helping her move didn't have to bring her couch up a
flight of stairs.
Her son and his family moved to California five months earlier so she
was all alone now in DC. She had planned to look for movers but when
Mulder had found this out, he insisted that he and Skinner would move
her things for her instead, seeing that she was on a tight budget. So
Skinner found himself volunteered by the agent for heavy manual labor
this weekend.
It was almost noon but the heavy pieces of furniture were now in place.
These were the couch, the dining room table and her bed. Skinner and
Mulder protested, not even allowing her to move boxes from the U-Haul.
Everyone rested at noontime and Mrs. Jackson outdid herself even in the
midst of the move by preparing a cold but sumptuous lunch. By the time
they finished eating, Skinner was sprawled on the couch taking a much
needed nap.
"It must be hard getting old," Mulder told Mrs. Jackson with that
mischievous gleam in his eye. They were in the process of moving boxes
into her new bedroom.
"I heard that," Skinner called out with his eyes still closed. Mulder
laughed.
"It must be hard moving around when your back is about to give way,"
Mulder said evilly, his voice intentionally loud.
"Mulder," the DD warned.
Someone sure is sensitive about growing old, Mulder though, looking
with affection at the man sprawled on the couch. Mulder continued to
get boxes from the U-Haul trailer while Mrs. Jackson directed him on
where to put them.
"It's a good thing Walter is in good health, Fox," Mrs. Jackson said.
"When my Ken was just Walter's age, he already had quite a few problems
because of his smoking and drinking. So you take care of Walter, make
sure he always eats right, goes to the doctor at any sign of illness
and takes his medicine and make life easy for him. It's a difficult
job he has. And you keep in mind that he is a good man."
"I love him more than anything," Mulder muttered in a low voice.
Sometimes, his love for Skinner made his throat ache.
"My one advice?" Mrs. Jackson patted his arm. "Always make him know
that you do love him, everyday if possible and not just before, during
or after making love. Now don't blush, Fox. I also know that those
words come out in the heat of it all, but saying you love him even when
you're just cleaning up the kitchen for example, that's even more
important. Because once he is gone, you don't want to have any
regrets."
Mulder nodded, looking at Skinner's sleeping form through the bedroom
door.
They let Skinner take his nap as they unloaded more of the trailer. By
the time Mulder was pooped, Skinner was refreshed enough to finish the
job.
Mrs. Jackson profusely thanked the two. It wasn't often that one can
collar an FBI director and agent to move furniture for you. As she
closed the door, she promised herself to bake a cake for them. She and
Mulder knew that Skinner had a sweet tooth but wouldn't admit it to
himself.
"It's only three o'clock, Walter," Mulder said as he drove his
Cherokee. "We can still get Taylor and head for the cabin."
"Sure, as long as I'm not going to do any more lifting," Skinner said.
"Thanks for helping me move Mrs. Jackson's things," Mulder said,
mindful of the housekeeper's advice. He patted Skinner's thigh
lovingly and the older man took his hand and held it briefly before
Mulder had to take his hand away and put it back on the wheel.
`Just give me sufficient warning next time when you're on one of your
projects," Skinner said. Mulder had given him short notice last night
and he was annoyed this Saturday morning when he woke up. He did look
forward to their cabin weekends. But the younger man's Boy-Scout-do-a-
good-deed mood was unpredictable and more than once Skinner had been
caught flatfooted just like today.
They had to stop at the Safeway to stock up on provisions. Taylor was
left by the entrance. It was too hot and Skinner didn't want to leave
his dog in the Cherokee. He loaded up his shopping cart and was about
to check out but he couldn't find Mulder. He finally found the agent
at the greeting card section and he cringed.
It must be near Mulder's mother's birthday. Skinner correctly surmised
because it was summer. True enough, his lover was perusing a big very
pink card and as Skinner looked over his shoulder, he read the
saccharine doggerel that Mulder preferred to send to his mother.
Skinner knew that the agent viewed his mother as someone out of Norman
Rockwell's Americana motherhood.
Skinner uneasily waited for Mulder to make his choice. The DD learned
long ago not to interfere with Mulder's dealing with his mother. The
younger man then picked the biggest, frilliest and pinkest card and put
it in the cart along with the other groceries.
What the DD liked to do was shred that card. It looked so deceptive, a
piece of heavy printed paper, innocent and feminine beside the rest of
their purchases, instead of the emotion-laden time bomb it really was.
Skinner knew that once Mulder mailed the card he would be on his toes
for up to two weeks afterwards, hoping against hope that this time his
mother might call. Then he would be hurt again. It was a masochistic
ritual that Mulder went through every few months when Christmas,
Mother's day and her birthday passed.
But Skinner prevented himself from saying anything as he paid for the
groceries with his credit card. It would be just like kicking Taylor
if he tried to make Mulder realize that it would be a futile exercise
once more.
By the time they got to the cabin, it was dark. Ironically, it was
Mulder who complained of a backache so after a light dinner, Skinner
sent him to bed after making sure he took some pain relievers. Then
the DD patrolled the grounds of the cabin for the night.
He vaguely knew that it was something territorial and that was probably
the reason that Taylor always came along on these evening walks. The
dog considered the cabin his territory, too.
Skinner took his time with his evening rounds. He had been doing these
walks since he was a boy so he only needed the moonlight as he checked
the boathouse, the garage, both back and front yards, the gate and the
road. He knew that if he had been more diligent in this evening
exercise, he probably might have noticed Bill Mulder and his minions
and he wouldn't have those painful eight months when he and Mulder were
separated. Finally satisfied there were no lurkers in the bushes and
no strange cars on the deserted road, Skinner and Taylor went back
inside. The DD punched in the code and activated the security system
before he went upstairs. Because there would be no lovemaking for
tonight with Mulder's backache, Skinner allowed Taylor into the
bedroom.
It was too warm to wear pajamas so Skinner settled for his underwear.
When he emerged from the bathroom, he saw Taylor lying down beside
Mulder's sleeping form. Seeing Skinner's disapproving glare, the dog
slunk off to the carpet. The DD knew that Mulder probably slept with
the dog whenever Skinner was out of town.
Skinner slipped into bed not bothering to get under the light sheet.
He turned on the television to catch the late news. A hand on Mulder's
bare skin satisfied the DD that Mulder wasn't running a fever from
today's exertions or that the backache was some sort of summer flu.
Mulder woke up before Skinner the next day. It was a hot day an the
agent escaped from the older man's tight embrace. Both of them were
hot and stick. It was already nine and he knew that Skinner went to
church at ten.
"Walter," Mulder shook him gently. "It's Sunday and it's nine
o'clock."
Skinner groaned and refused to wake up. Mulder shook him again and
then yet again. This time, the older man finally awakened. The sheets
were clammy and rumpled from their sweat. It was hotter than Skinner
anticipated or else he would have turned on the airconditioner
yesterday. Mulder directed him to the bathroom and once he had his
shower, he was fully awake.
Because the room was so hot, Mulder shed his T-shirt and shorts and was
now sprawled on the bed watching the Cartoon Channel. Skinner chuckled
as he emerged from the bathroom and shook his head at the wanton way
Mulder was positioned. But he really couldn't spare the fifteen to
twenty minutes of playtime or else he would be late for the service.
"You're deliberately doing that, aren't you?" Skinner asked as he
dressed in a cotton short sleeved shirt and khakis.
"What?"
"Displaying yourself like that just before I go to church," Skinner
said.
"What?" The agent was engrossed in the cartoon.
"Nothing," Skinner laughed again. He bent down to kiss the agent
before he left. "Back still hurts?"
"Huh?"
"Forget it."
CHAPTER NINE
FOREST SOAPSUDS AND DISAPPOINTED APPLEBEE GAGGLE
The morning light was seeping into the bedroom window as Skinner woke
up. He groaned when he saw that it was past ten o'clock. The past
week had been hectic and he was really tired last night. Mulder hadn't
awakened him when he left the bed. Skinner stretched and he heard his
joints pop. He really was getting old, by the sound of his joints.
Well, fishing would just have to be postponed for tomorrow morning.
Skinner smiled when he recalled a month ago that Mulder had finally
agreed to go fishing with him. It had taken six years, but Mulder was
finally losing his wariness on water. The agent had only been slightly
seasick (lakesick?) and was triumphant when he caught three fish.
The DD finally stood up and looked at the view of the lake from the
window. From where he stood, he could also see the backyard and the
forest at the side of the house. At the corner of his eye, Skinner saw
Taylor scamper by. Was that soapsuds on him?
Skinner shook his head to clear it. He wasn't sure at what he saw. He
opened the window and stuck out his head. He didn't hear Taylor's bark
so he dismissed it. Then there it was again. A flash of dog fur with
definite soapsuds passed by again.
"Mulder!" Skinner roared.
Mulder's head stuck out from below and Skinner fumed when he saw that
Mulder had that sheepish look on his face. The soap bubbles and lather
that coated his arms up to his elbows only aggravated matters.
"Did you see him?" Mulder asked, looking up to the second story window.
"He escaped." Mulder added unnecessarily.
"There!" Skinner pointed to the forest area where he saw the labrador
expertly evading Mulder in the trees. Bits of dirt and loose leaves no
clung to the animal's wet coat.
Skinner hurriedly dressed and bounded out of the house to help catch
the seemingly laughing dog. After ten minutes of dog tag, Taylor
finally tired of the game and dropped panting onto Skinner's
disapproving feet. Skinner reprimanded the dog until he seemed
sufficiently contrite.
Mulder breathlessly returned and smiled. His hair was plastered on his
head and his T-shirt was smeared with dog shampoo lather, stray dog fur
and leaves.
"Come on, Taylor," Mulder grabbed sufficiently hold on the dog's now
very dirty fur. "Bath time again. Uhm, Walter, why don't you go
fishing or something first? I don't think it would do you any good to
see the house until I've cleaned it."
Skinner tsked in annoyance but decided to take Mulder's advice.
Although it was high noon and the sun was beating down fiercely, he
decided to do what Mulder suggested. He got his fishing hat from the
garage to protect his head and his tackle box and fishing gear and went
fishing. He didn't catch any fish after an hour on the lake but he saw
Mulder with a sufficiently dry and clean Taylor beside him waving from
the shore.
"Hey, Walter!" the younger man yelled as Skinner rowed in. "Let's grab
a bite to eat. You haven't had breakfast yet, have you?"
"You can go check the house now," Mulder continued as he helped pull
the boat into the boathouse. "It's as clean as you like it."
"Let's just eat out, okay?" Skinner suggested.
The agent affectionately put an arm around Skinner's shoulder and they
went back into the cabin. Skinner grudgingly admitted that Mulder did
clean up the place so there wasn't any trace of Taylor's mischief. He
went upstairs to take a shower and came down to find the two members of
his family slouched on the couch, with Mulder reading a Lonegunman
publication and Taylor chewing on rawhide.
"Let's go," the older man said, one hand ruffling Mulder's hair while
the other patted Taylor's rump. They all piled into the Cherokee with
Mulder at the wheel.
Mulder decided on the local Applebee's. Simple fare for an
uncomplicated day. They left Taylor tied near the entrance and walked
in. It didn't escape Skinner's notice that a group of young women in a
booth had glanced at Mulder with more than passing interest, taking in
his lover's good looks. Mulder was dressed in just an old T-shirt and
Skinner's walk shorts, bagging at the hips and wore dark glasses. He
didn't look particularly fashionable but he was tanned nicely and his
hair was bleached to a golden brown from the summer sun.
The agent laughed quietly as they got into a booth just opposite them
and the women continued to give him the eye. Apparently, he'd also
noticed that the women were looking at him. The waitress took their
orders and Skinner stood up for a minute just to check that Taylor
wasn't getting overheated outside the restaurant. As he returned, he
saw Mulder wiggling his left hand at the women. Was the agent showing
them his ring?
Skinner sat back down into the booth and to his surprise and
consternation, Mulder leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth.
That move created a stir at the women's booth and after a few minutes,
they hurriedly left.
"What was that for?" Skinner said annoyed. Mulder shook his head and
laughed again.
"I just wanted to show them that I was taken," Mulder said mildly.
"Besides, they were at least fifteen years younger than me."
"I'm twelve years older than you," Skinner muttered. Their food came,
a taco salad for Skinner and a dripping cheese steak sandwich for
Mulder.
"Yeah, you're twelve years older but I'm mature for my age," Mulder
countered. "That's why we're compatible."
Skinner snorted. Mulder was in one of his crazy moods and to Skinner
that usually meant that Mulder was horny. The older man's suspicions
were confirmed when they headed back home.
The agent deliberately flirted with him the whole way home. Once
there, Skinner wasted no time dragging Mulder up to the bedroom where
he determinedly undressed them both.
"I'm glad you took the hint," Mulder laughed and deeply kissed his
lover. "It's been a happy day for me, Walter."
"Skinner leaned back on the headboard in a semi-sitting position as
Mulder busily applied lubricant on the older man. The agent then
turned on his backside to Skinner and moaned as lubricant was smeared
on his bottom, too.
They didn't need much preliminaries this time. With Skinner's hands on
his hips, Mulder carefully lowered himself onto the older man. The DD
grunted as he felt Mulder's silken heat surround him. He just leaned
back and enjoyed everything. Mulder did all the work this time,
sitting on Skinner's lap. Lately, they had been doing it like this
with Mulder wanting to set the pace. Of course, it was all right with
Skinner because it was about time after all their years together.
"You like doing that, didn't you?" Skinner gasped as he felt himself
being squeezed.
"What. . .this?" Mulder did it again and the older man moaned. Mulder
smiled happily at his lover, at the way Skinner was enjoying him.
"Shocking. . .those. . .girls, aaahhh. . .at the restaurant<: Skinner
said as Mulder was now earnestly pistoning his hips. The DD grabbed
Mulder's hips in both of his big hands to help in the motion.
"Yes, they wouldn't believe me when I was showing them my ring," the
agent ground himself on his lover's stiff member inside him. Sweat was
beading on both their torsos as they finally concentrated on their
lovemaking. Skinner tenderly brushed the hair off Mulder's face.
Mulder leaned his head on Skinner hand as he did all the thrusting. It
was more like a dance, gentle rocking and embracing, everything so
coordinated and smooth between them.
They came together, not really powerful orgasms. Just a nice mild
shuddering of their bodies, eliciting contented sighs more than
anything. A nice comfortable come for a nice comfortable day.
"It's a happy day for me, too," Skinner murmured. Mulder was his love
and his life and even after six blissful years, their hunger for each
other was still insatiable.
He lay back, gathering his breath as his heart stopped its racing.
Mulder had fallen asleep naked atop the bedcovers. Skinner watched him
in his slumber. Mulder was still in his prime, the broad shoulders
tapering to a narrow waist. Hard muscles encased in smooth skin and
those long limbs, which Skinner liked. A few creases now grazed his
forehead but disappeared in sleep.
Having introduced Mulder to sex with a man, Skinner was initially
fearful that the agent would eventually leave him someday for another,
probably someone younger, someone nearer his own age. That was one of
the major reasons that he had taken pains to take care of Mulder,
giving him visible signs of his love, starting with the Pooh bear, the
figurines, the ring and the watch. After all, Mulder was undoubtedly
more handsome, younger and wasn't bald. Although Mulder had reassured
him that he didn't lack for any in the looks deparment, either, the DD
had absolutely no illusions about himself, that he was middle aged or
even beyond that crossroads, that the years were going to start taking
their toll.
But those fears had been groundless as Mulder had proven to Skinner
time and again. His attraction to other men had been few and far
between, fleeting crushes that he had mentioned to Skinner without
reservations. Furthermore, men and women had never ceased flirting
with him but he only found it amusing like today. But Skinner's
problem with impotence had only proven that Mulder was indeed with him
for the long haul and he hoped that they would grow old together.
END OF BACCARAT FIGURINES IV (2/3)
BACCARAT FIGURINES IV (3/3) by Sean Spencer
seans13@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMER IN PART ONE
CHAPTER TEN
FORLORN ROSEWOOD SHOE
At five thirty the alarm buzzed as usual. It was still dark outside
so after checking that Mulder was turned away from him, Skinner
switched on the nightstand lamp and stretched his muscles. Mulder was
still asleep, his own clock set at least an hour later.
From under the comforter, Skinner affectionately rubbed the younger
man's bare back and buttocks, Mulder's body comfortably warm in sleep.
They had made love again last night. There was no trace of the
impotence, since he had been able to achieve more than sufficient
erections that provided satisfaction for both of them.
Reluctantly, Skinner got out of bed and went to the study where he did
his requisite tie on the machine. Later, as he stood under the spray
of almost hot water, he mentally went over his set of meetings for
today. Endless meetings from eight to five, sometimes running over
three hours later. Skinner was just thankful that it was Mulder he was
with.
Of course, the agent knew how much work meant to him and understood
that staying late in the Hoover didn't mean that he was avoiding going
home. That had been one of the main points of contention with his ex-
wife.
He had been Deputy Director for one and a half years now and was
planning to retire within a few months. Actually, Mulder had been
urging him to stay on, saying that he didn't need to stay for only one
year just because he said so on their fifth anniversary. But Skinner
was quite set. He had other plans in his life, plans that he had
hinted at Mulder but they still hadn't discussed in depth.
Once out of the shower, Skinner went about the room as quietly as he
could.. By the time he was fully dressed, it was only six thirty,
still dark outside. He went over to the bed, looked down at Mulder's
rumpled head and smiled to himself. Mulder was clutching a pillow to
him and Skinner wondered if the agent was dreaming of someone else.
He sat down by Mulder and bent down to kiss his neck and forehead like
always.
"Hey, baby," Skinner whispered. Normally, he didn't awaken Mulder
with his good bye kisses, but this morning he wanted to do so. "Fox,
honey. . ."
Mulder opened a reluctant eye and turned on his back. Skinner put a
hand over the agent's chest and kissed him again.
"I'll take Taylor for a walk before I leave," Skinner told him.
Mulder closed once again and nodded.
Skinner took his two briefcases downstairs and turned on the
coffeemaker. Taylor eagerly bounded around him as Skinner worked him
into his leash. The dog did his business promptly, and they were back
to the apartment by seven. Skinner drank the coffee and ate a pastry.
He called a number on the phone and verified that his security escort
was downstairs in the back entrance of the building. It was a back
entrance day today.
Agent Delaney was waiting for him and Skinner got in front as usual.
They exchanged morning pleasantries as the car took the number three
route to the Hoover. There were six ways to get him to the office and
the one that day was predetermined by the table of random numbers that
were updated every few days. The number three route was the scenic
route and it kept Skinner from having to talk to Delaney since he
looked at the prosperous suburban houses, some with kids already busy
out in their front yards catching the last few days of freedom before
school started.
Although it was late August, there was a definite morning chill
already as fall was starting to sneak in. They were at a stop light
in the suburban intersection when two cars both coming from different
directions on the four-way street stopped. Skinner sensed that
something was wrong. Why would the two cars be stopped when their
lights were supposedly green?
Delaney was beginning evasive maneuvers when the roar of a motorcycle
came from the rear and a flash of automatic gunfire filled the Bureau
car with blood.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Fox Mulder was fixing his paper that Wednesday morning, getting ready
to join the emergency VCS meeting. AD Wilson told him that he and
Scully should be in that meeting and it was their first agenda for
that day. Scully still wasn't in and Mulder was reluctant to go to
that meeting alone. Somehow, her presence always acted as a buffer
from the usual barbs that came his way if he went up there by himself.
A knock on the door caused him to look up. Whoever that was wasn't
Scully; she didn't need to knock. It was Agent Gutierrez. What would
he be doing down here? Although Mulder had come to trust him to some
degree, he was never comfortable with him.
"Agent Mulder?" the younger agent said, and Mulder wondered why
Gutierrez looked grim and harassed at the same time. "I have some bad
news and I think you should know before you go up to VCS."
"What is it?"
"There has been an incident at Rosewood an hour ago," Gutierrez began.
"The Deputy Director's car was found at the corner of Metcalfe and
Cooper roads. Agent Delaney was killed but the Deputy Director's body
wasn't at the scene."
Mulder heard a roar in his head. It was happening all over again.
Something bad happening to someone he was close to. But please, please
not Walter!
"Agent Mulder, they are still verifying if all the blood at the scene
was Delaney's. There were no witnesses and it was early morning. We
don't know if the Deputy Director was injured."
Scully entered the office and saw Gutierrez. Mulder's pallor struck
her and, at first, Scully had the impression that Gutierrez was
harassing her partner. It was far from the truth when Gutierrez gave
her the bare facts.
Then Scully suddenly realized the nature of this emergency meeting.
They were supposed to be there in ten minutes. Scully thanked the
younger man on the advance information just before he left, looking
regretfully at Mulder over his shoulder.
"Mulder are you all right?" Mulder was staring into space and didn't
look good at all. "I don't think you should go to that meeting."
"I'm going, Scully," Mulder said tersely. "Please don't stop me."
Both of them were there at the required time and sat at one end of the
big conference table. Most of the VCS were there and a lot of them
were still unaware of the assault of Skinner. Everyone quieted down
when the Director, a host of AD's and the NSA stepped into the room.
There was an uneasy buzz as the Director formally announced that
Skinner's car was attacked, resulting in the death of Agent Delaney.
Because the facts from the crime scene were just coming in, as far as
they could determine, it seemed like it was a professional job
involving more than one vehicle.
It was then that the crime scene photographs wee passed around. There
wasn't enough time to make slides. In fact, all of the photos just
came from digital cameras on site and
were printed a scant half hour ago, as the crime scene detail were on
line with the Bureau.
Scully could see that some of the younger agents of the VCS were
visibly upset upon viewing the photographs. When the pictures came
her way, she held onto to them, not passing them to Mulder. Delaney's
face wasn't even recognizable. That was what had upset the VCS. Some
of them knew Delaney personally. But Scully likewise saw the close up
shots of Skinner's shattered eyeglasses and a shoe, both covered with
blood. Scully was unobtrusively trying to pass the photographs on to
the people beyond Mulder, but Mulder grabbed her wrists in an iron
grip.
"Let me see," Mulder fiercely murmured to her. Scully really didn't
want to but Mulder pried the photos from her. Scully worriedly looked
at him as he lingered over the pictures of the eyeglasses and the
shoe. Everyone assumed that Mulder was upset also because of Delaney.
With a sinking heart, Scully listened as assignments were distributed
and she and Mulder turned out to be on the profiling team, Mulder
being one of the more senior members of the team. In face, it was a
big team consisting of the more accomplished profilers of the Bureau
with two who were retired already, but legendary enough to be called
in.
Then a junior agent entered the conference room and murmured something
to the Director's ear.
"We have to work fast, ladies and gentlemen," Freeh announced grimly.
"The labs just released the report on the bloodwork. It has been
confirmed that some of the blood on the scene was the Deputy
Director's. Let's hop to it."
Mulder visibly sagged at the last bit of news as the people dispersed
to their various assignments. Scully then made a decision. She
excused herself and told Mulder that she would meet him in the
basement after a few minutes.
Scully followed the crowd of people and eventually ended up in the
Director's office. She insisted on seeing him, telling his assistant
that it was urgent and pertained to the case.
It took all of Scully's courage to ignore the irritated look on the
Director's face.
"Sir, I think you should know that I have some vital information that
might affect the outcome of this case," she started, her tone of voice
enough to grab the Director's attention.
"What I am about to tell you should be held in strictest confidence,
sir," Scully continued. "Because the involved parties don't know what
I am going to divulge."
"All right, Agent. . .Scully, is it?" Freeh said. "I need all the
information I can get. But why didn't you bring it up in the meeting
if the information is vital to the case?" I'm sure that it would have
been useful. . ."
"No, sir," Scully interrupted. "I just want your promise that
anything that will be said in a few minutes will not leave this room."
Freeh nodded and Scully proceeded.
"I think that you should know that Deputy Director Skinner and Agent
Fox Mulder are lovers," Scully crisply said. The Director just
blinked at her. "They have been living together for almost five
years, sir. But Mulder was assigned to profile the case but I don't
know if he will be able to handle it, sir."
"Walter never told me that. . .well, it's not something he would have
told just anyone," Freeh said after a full minute, biting his lower
lip. "It's quite simple then. Agent Mulder should be pulled out of
the investigation at once. In fact, someone should be with Agent
Mulder on a counseling capacity, just like for any relative who is in
a hostage situation. He shouldn't have been in that meeting at all.
Did he see the photographs?"
Scully nodded and the Director cursed. He then called Mulder. Scully
tensed, having no idea how her partner would react since she went over
his head and told someone about him and Skinner. But in her heart,
she knew that she was right.
She had seen Mulder's face when the Director announced that Skinner's
blood was found in the car. The way he had tensed his jaw and slumped
told her enough. And when Mulder finally showed up at the Director's
office, Scully's fears were well founded.
In the scant minutes since the meeting, Mulder already looked like a
wreck. He tried to hide his eyes by wearing his glasses, but that
just called attention to his trembling hands, which shook each time he
adjusted his glasses on his nose.
"You told him?" Mulder didn't even greet the Director. He had a
resigned tone of voice with just a hint of anger.
"We don't have time for accusations, Agent Mulder," the Director
interrupted. "I will not entirely pull you out of the investigation.
I know that the last thing Walter would want is to call attention to
your relationship with him.
But I will not allow you to have a direct hand in this. I know for a
fact that it would be something Walter wouldn't want either. I will
put you to work on his security detail,
where they're retracing his steps for the past months. I understand
that Agent Gutierrez is cognizant of you and Walter; therefore, you'll
work with him making a list of probable suspects.
"Because of the privacy that you both want, I think it would be best
if Agent's Gutierrez and Scully will be the only ones who will monitor
your home phones as part of routine surveillance in these situations."
Scully breathed a sigh of relief that Mulder didn't seem to argue. It
was a logical solution to the problem and still elegant enough not to
call attention to Mulder being out of the profiling team. Scully was
somewhat impressed by Freeh's quick thinking as they walked out of the
office.
"Mulder, I had to tell him," Scully said apologetically. "You know
that being right in the middle of this could jeopardize the
investigation if you're so emotionally involved in this."
Mulder nodded grimly. He was just too quiet and Scully didn't like
it. Both of them still went to the crime scene where Mulder was still
too quiet.
Delaney's body had long since been brought to the morgue but his blood
and brains were still all over the car. Mulder wanted to get
Skinner's glasses but Scully stopped him in time. The glasses and
shoe were still in their places, just where they had been found.
"Those were his favorite shoes, Scully."
That was the only thing Mulder said as she drove him home.
Agent Gutierrez was already waiting at the seventeenth floor hallway
when they got there. Mulder had earlier requested Mrs. Jackson to go
home; the housekeeper was purposefully kept in the dark for security
reasons. Gutierrez and Scully started setting up the equipment and
attaching it to the telephone.
Scully looked up from her unraveling of the wires as she heard some
rushed footsteps upstairs.
"Excuse me, Gutierrez," Scully said, standing up. "I'll just check
upstairs."
Scully knocked, but Mulder wasn't answering. She let herself into the
bedroom and still Mulder wasn't there.
Then she heard the sounds of retching from the adjoining bathroom.
"Mulder, are you all right?" Scully called, knowing that
whatever he answered, he sure didn't sound all right. The
retching continued and Scully just threw caution to the wind
and entered the bathroom where she found her partner huddled
over the toilet. She sat by the tub and held the back of
his neck with a cool hand until he finished.
She gave him a glass of water to rinse out his mouth and he
stumbled out of the bathroom. Scully followed and saw that
her partner was seated on the bed, looking out the window.
"Scully, what if we don't find him?" Mulder asked her.
"I don't know, Mulder," Scully said truthfully, trying to
keep out the catch in her voice. She felt so for her
partner, how devastated he was. "We both know that the
fresher the trail, the faster we'll find him."
Mulder nodded and got into a fresh T-shirt. He didn't even
argue when Scully insisted that he rest for an hour at
least. He lay on the bed and even allowed Scully to tuck
him in. Scully was getting worried.
Scully went down and saw that Gutierrez had finished setting
up the equipment. Periodically, they would get calls from
the rest of Skinner's security team, where they would confer
on background ckecks of the various people Skinner had seen
on an official capacity. Gutierrez had confided that the
Deputy Director's security team was being as thorough as
possible, because the whole affair had made them look bad.
It was an hour later when Mulder finally showed up. He did
look better, and furthermore, he looked angry.
"Okay, let's start working," he said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
GRAVEYARD GRIEF
Deputy Director Skinner was bound and gagged in the trunk of
the car. From what he could estimate, he had been here for
two hours. His leg hurt like hell each time he moved. The
smell of blood was everywhere, mainly from his clothes and
face where Delaney's blood and brains and skull still clung
to him. He knew that there was a gunshot wound on his calf,
too.
The trunk was such a tight space that it took him a few
minutes to just turn around. His face encountered a few
wires and he correctly concluded that those were for the
taillights. He successfully wrapped a shoeless foot around
the wires at the opposite end to pull them out. It was the
only think he could do at the moment. The lack of brake
lights from the car might prompt a patrolman to pull them
over.
It was three in the afternoon when another meeting was
called. Scully and Mulder left for the Hoover after wisely
dropping off Taylor to be boarded for a while. Gutierrez
stayed at the apartment although there had been no calls.
Mulder mad a list of more people to do background checks on
and Gutierrez said he would make sure that those were done.
Before heading for the conference room, they detoured to the
Director's office. The Director wanted to inform Mulder of
new developments before announcing it to the whole team.
To Mulder's relief, there was no one there except for the
Director. Mulder had a deep foreboding, wondering if they
were called in because Skinner's body had been found. He
braced himself for the bad news.
"Fox, there has been a confirmation that Walter is alive,"
the Director began. Mulder released the breath he was
holding. "There was a patrolman shot and wounded two hours
ago. He stopped a car for a busted tail light and heard
someone in the trunk."
Scully shuddered as she remembered that she herself had been
in the same situation one before.
"It was in Tennessee so we know they're headed south," The
Director continued. "But that isn't the only news."
"Fox, I'm only showing you these pictures to let you know
that Walter is alive," Freeh said, handing over some printed
pages. "Two of these came by e-mail to my office at two
thirty."
Mulder saw the pictures. He shut his eyes and hung his head
after briefly viewing them. It showed Skinner bound and
gagged and blindfolded beside a box buried beneath the
ground. The Deputy Director's white shirt was spattered with
blood and so were his trousers. The next picture showed him
being put in the box with some signs of struggle.
"From what we see of the spatter pattern, most of the blood
might be Delaney's and Walter does not seem to be injured
except for the right lower leg. The photo analysts say that
there is a small rent on the cloth that might indicate that
it is a gunshot wound. Whoever sent these pictures are
still not demanding anything as of now. They're still
playing with us."
"Walter has high blood pressure," Mulder whispered. "If he
stays in that box, he might have a stroke."
"We're moving as fast as we can," Freeh reassured him.
"They're tracing the computer trail now. You don't have to
attend the meeting. . ."
"I'll be there," Mulder said with a hard edge to his voice.
"I'd like to go back to the profiling team. I already made
a list of all possible suspects I could think of. Sir, I
can handle myself now."
Freeh and Mulder bargained over that and the Director
reluctantly agreed as long as Scully kept an eye on him and
that no signs of undue stress appear.
The meeting was brief and further strategies were laid out.
They adjourned with the different teams going back to their
assigned tasks. The profiling team went to their war room
where Mulder flinched upon seeing all the pictures of the
crime scenes and the new pictures of Skinner beside the box
plastered all over the bulletin boards. A diagram of the
blackboard even had Skinner's personal life mapped out for
all to see including the names of all his "dates" for the
past months. There was also a rough sketch on the board, a
symbol on the box near Skinner's head in the pictures which
was still to be identified.
Fortunately, the profiling team didn't suspect anything
amiss when Mulder and Scully rejoined the team. They just
thought that the two mavericks preferred to work alone and
didn't bother them too much. Scully could see that Mulder
was indeed back to work and she watched him from time to
time as points on Skinner's case were argued back and forth.
A break was called two hours later and everyone left except
for Mulder and Scully. It was well past seven in the
evening.
"Scully, there's something here that I just couldn't get a
handle on," Mulder ran a hand over his hair. Scully saw his
notepad where all the pertinent facts were randomly written
on various parts of the page.
"Come on, let's get some fresh air," Scully urged him.
Reluctantly, Mulder agreed and they took a walk to the
restaurant where they normally took their Monday lunch.
"You okay?" Scully asked again. Mulder nodded. He should
be annoyed with her, that she was asking that over and over
since this morning. But Mulder wasn't; instead, all he felt
was grateful for Scully being such a good friend.
"Hey, I'm sorry about being mad at you this morning , when
you told Freeh about me and Walter," Mulder said. "But you
were right. I wouldn't know how I would have reacted in the
meetings if Freeh hadn't warned me. I might have been too
messed up to work properly."
"But why do you need to stay on?" Scully asked, meaning why
Mulder needed to stay in the profiling team, instead of
being on the surveillance team as suggested earlier.
"If this turns out bad, Scully, I'll never forgive myself if
I didn't do my best to help find him," Mulder said his jaw
set hard. "Walter told me I was good at profiling, really
good. So I have to use everything I've got to get him
back."
"I understand," Scully sighed. She just feared for her
friend, the heavy toll it would be if they weren't able to
find the Deputy Director.
Their food arrived and Mulder was luckily able to clean his
plate. Scully surreptitiously made sure that he did. This
day might just be too much for him in the end. Although he
might not be too aware of it, Scully was quite certain that
Mulder could spiral downwards if things did turn bad and one
of the major reasons would be his reliving the trauma of
losing Samantha.
Mulder was in midchew when he abruptly stopped.
"Scully we have to go back," Mulder said urgently. "I know
who did it."
Mulder rose and left the restaurant, leaving Scully to pay
for their meal in haste. By the time Scully got out of the
restaurant, she saw Mulder turning the corner as he briskly
walked under the glow of streetlamps.
"Mulder, wait!"
Scully ran as fast as her high heels would take her. She
finally caught up with him.
"It's the militia, Scully, the Harris militia," Mulder spat
out. "The weapons that killed Delaney, Walter heading
south, the small insignia on the box. It all adds up. We
have to find him, Scully. They're not out to bargain with
anyone. They intend to leave Walter down there. There
weren't any provisions in the box like in other similar
kidnapping cases.
"Walter said that the suspects in the bombing scared him.
It's one of the few times I ever heard him say that. He
told me that after the watched the interrogation of the two
militiamen who were convicted later of the bombings. He
said that they were fanatical, almost like those Middle
Eastern terrorist groups."
Scully was hard pressed to keep up with him. By the time
they returned to the Hoover, some of the team members were
already there.
That was when the trouble started. Mulder had to do a lot
of convincing, because the rest of the team didn't know
Skinner's fears regarding the Harris people while Mulder
couldn't outright tell them why he plucked out that data
seemingly from thin air. It only made things worse because
Mulder was getting frustrated when they blocked every point
he made.
It was more by default that the team agreed to start the
investigation along those lines with the incarcerated
militia members since no one else had other conclusions
about the case.
. . . . . . . . .
Skinner was able to partially rub off the duct tape from his
mouth and eyes. He knew he was in a coffin like box, and
that it was pitch black and stuffy. He yelled himself
hoarse and kicked ineffectually against the box. He didn't
know if there was an air vent but he knew that he had been
here for more than two hours. He tried to stay the panic
that was creeping up on him. He didn't know if this was
going to be his tomb. His shoulders didn't just ache; the
long hours in the awkward position made it downright
painful. His cuffed wrists behind his back were bleeding.
At first, he thought that his teeth were chattering from the
cold , but it really wasn't cold in the box at all. His
teeth were chattering from stark fear. Skinner forced
himself to breathe more slowly, reciting things to himself
to calm his mind. He prayed that the Bureau would find him,
that Mulder would find him.
He used his foot, his hands and face, looking for anything
he could use to escape. The box was clean, not even a
splinter marred its interior. He didn't even have his
wallet, watch, glasses, necktie and belt. All were taken
from him.
His leg was aching unbearably and he wasn't sure if it was
turning numb. The lack of even the tiniest glint of light
was the hardest. He was so closed in that even if he wasn't
claustrophobic, he sure was approaching that state.
Mercifully, an exhausted sleep claimed him.
The next time he woke up, Skinner was in full panic. He
didn't know how long he'd been here. The pitch-blackness
was too much and he yelled at first. Later, he screamed
himself to exhaustion. He couldn't even claw himself out of
the box, the handcuffs behind his back not allowing it. His
shoulders and leg burned. The struggling was making it hard
to breathe and he was so thirsty. He didn't know how long
he was screaming.
Chest heaving, Skinner knew the he should be saving his
energy to stay alive. Half-remembered childhood prayers
suddenly came to mind and he muttered these to himself.
He didn't even know who put him here.
The whispered prayers provided some comfort and Skinner
tried to keep his mind alert with that. Later, he couldn't
deny the fullness of his bladder any longer and was
humiliated that there was no choice but to wet himself.
The extreme darkness, the absolute blackness, the oppressive
heat, the humidity his body was engendering, the closeness
and the lack of any sound, his bound hands, all these
contributed to another wave of panic and Skinner screamed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVEN SANDWICHES AND CAKE AREN'T ENOUGH
Scully slammed her fists down hard, startling the person
seated across from her. She looked with contempt at the
inmate. She knew that she had come a long ways since she
was a green field agent with Luther Lee Boggs.
The militia member she was interrogating was the one they
knew as the loser. He was just someone with a wavy sense of
what the militia stood for and just joined up to give a
direction in his live. The other one was the diehard member
and they didn't waste any time with him.
There were three of them breaking down the resolve of the
inmate and it took them hours, but finally, he broke down
when he truly and finally realized that if Skinner was found
dead, he could be an accessory to the crime. His fifteen
year sentence was looking rosy compared to the alternative.
Finally, once names and locations were obtained, the junior
agent ran to the phone and called the Texas regional office.
Scully ran a hand over the back of her aching neck before
she left the prison, going through the numerous checkpoints
and series of barred doors.
It was thirty six hours since Skinner disappeared and
although the entire Bureau was using its vast resources,
combing every possible nook and cranny, they were still
without tangible clues and leads, except for the description
of the car given by the injured traffic cop and the people
at the internet caf, where the men had uploaded Skinner's
pictures. The license plate of the vehicle was fake while
the internet caf, people only could give a description.
Scully drove home, not daring to think what she would find
there. She deposited Mulder into her husband's custody
before she left for the prison three hours earlier. Mulder
growled saying that he didn't need a babysitter but Scully
brooked no nonsense from her partner. After all, Agent
Gutierrez needed a replacement to continue the surveillance
in Skinner's apartment so Mulder had to agree that staying
with her a few days was logical. As she expected, he hadn't
slept last night, looking for any tangible leads. He
already consulted with the Lone Gunmen and they were working
with him. Likewise, Scully knew that some of Skinner's
powerful relatives were informed of the DD's disappearance
and they were also using their own resources to look for
him.
There was a news blackout on the matter. The death of Agent
Delaney had been reported in the press as gang related.
By the time Scully was in her driveway, she was dead tired.
It was already ten in the evening. She wasn't surprised to
find Mulder on the phone in her living room. He hadn't
shaved and was still in the clothes he wore this morning.
He grimly nodded to her as she passed by him. She already
informed him of the new leads they had gained upon talking
to the imprisoned militia member.
John, her husband, was already asleep in bed. He was such
an early sleeper that ten o'clock at night was already
expecting too much of him to stay awake. However, he moved
as she went about the room , getting out of her clothes and
into sweats.
"How's he been?" she asked when she saw that John was
finally awake.
"Driven," John muttered. "Come on, Dana. I'll fix you a
sandwich."
They walked to the kitchen with their arms around each
other's waists. Scully sat down and listened to Mulder whom
she could hear from the living room. Her husband
efficiently fixed two sandwiches.
"Fox hasn't eaten, you know," John ratted on her partner.
"He's been on that phone the minute you left. But do you
think he'd listen to me? Of course not. He won't even stop
a minute to just grab a bite to eat."
Scully shook her head. After taking a big bite of her
sandwich, she stood up and went to the living room. After a
minute, she was dragging Mulder bodily into the kitchen with
a firm hand on his belt. John watched her manhandle her
partner, smiling at her with affection. There weren't a lot
of women a little bit over five feet who could do that.
Fortunately, the phone was cordless so Mulder's call wasn't
being interrupted in a any way. She forced him to sit down
and placed the sandwich in front of him. John poured two
glasses of milk. Mulder hadn't eaten dinner with him
earlier and the doctor in him was worried. Scully had
ordered him to make sure that Mulder ate but his wife's
partner had refused to be distracted from the phone. He
knew that Mulder hadn't even had lunch.
Scully always had perfect timing. The moment Mulder
finished with his call, she grabbed the phone and place it
inside her pants.
"You wouldn't dare get the phone from me while John's here,"
Scully said irritably. "Now, take five minutes and finish
that sandwich. I'm not going to allow myself to watch you
run yourself to the ground. Walter wouldn't either."
That last statement, of course was a low blow but she was
past caring about that at the moment. Mulder clenched his
jaw angrily at her before wolfing down the sandwich in three
bites. Seeing that he was eating, John ran to the
refrigerator and got out the cake and shoved a slice at
Mulder. That would be enough to keep up his blood sugar
until the next mealtime. Then John sneaked into the living
room and while the partners talked, he hid Mulder's
cellphone into the cushions of the couch.
Scully was able to stall him long enough to force Mulder to
change his clothes. Only then did she hand him the phone
again from her sweatpants. Almost instantly, Mulder dialed
up another number and started calling the Texas Bureau.
As of now, Scully was too tired to stay up with Mulder. She
and John said their good night and went to their room.
"I wouldn't know what to do if anything like that ever
happened to you," John said, just glad that Scully's
abduction happened before he knew her. "It's a miracle that
Fox could even function."
Scully woke up at four in the morning. She was too worried
about Skinner and her partner. She slipped out of bed and
went to see how Mulder was.
She found him still where she left him in the living room.
He heard her and turned to face her as she walked in.
"They found one of the militia but he's claiming that he
knows nothing about it," Mulder said. Scully knew better
than to ask him if he'd been to bed. She knew that look in
Mulder's eyes, when he was on a hunt for a suspect. But
there was an underlying deep sadness in him.
"It's almost 48 hours, Scully," he whispered after a while.
"I know, Mulder, I'm counting, too," she said, giving him a
rare reassuring hug, knowing how futile the gesture was.
Then she went upstairs to get ready for another day of
searching.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Skinner was barely aware of where he was. He only knew of a
profound all pervading thirst. He had long ceased to
struggle, not knowing that he had been captive (buried
alive?) for three days now. His arms and wrists didn't ache
anymore. Neither did his leg. All three limbs were
mercifully numb. He was barely aware that he was starting
to have trouble breathing. The position of his arms caused
overfatigue of his chest muscles. All he could do was hope
that Mulder would be all right without him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LIBERAL TRIUMPH
Mulder couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't watch them
unearth the box from the ground. He backed away from the
site and went to the road where the vehicles were. Scully
stayed, promising Mulder to try to maintain Skinner's
privacy if he was found alive. If the DD was indeed alive,
Mulder didn't want just anyone to see him in a physical and
psychological mess.
It had been four days, the hardest four days of Mulder's
life. He knew that a person could live for at least eight
days without food and three to four days if without both
food and water. Skinner was fit for his age, but he did
have bouts of very high blood pressure. What was stacked
against hi was the Texas heat, which could have accelerated
his dehydration.
Mulder shakily crawled into a Bronco. As soon as he got
inside, he wept. What if Skinner was dead? What if his
gunshot wound was more serious than they thought? The
person he loved most in the world, the only one who had ever
loved him so completely had been treated so cruelly, might
even have died trying to claw his way out of his living
tomb.
The last four days had taken its toll on Mulder. He had
angrily refused to go home despite Freeh's orders. He
didn't care if he got fired. Although the search for
Skinner was done as rapidly as possible, since he was the
Bureau's own, it wasn't fast enough for Mulder.
Despite the heat, Mulder felt chilled. He lay huddled in
the back seat, too exhausted to move. He hadn't slept in
four days, except for the one-hour catnap he had taken when
Scully and Gutierrez were fixing the equipment in the
apartment. Scully was literally propping him up.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Special Agent Dana Scully took another swig from her water
bottle. It was noontime under the fierce Dallas late August
sun, more than a hundred degrees where they stood. Mulder
had left her side a few minutes ago, but she had barely
noticed. She was too engrossed with the movements of the
recovery team who were frantically digging to get to the
Deputy Director.
They detected the air pipe which had led them to the box.
They had yelled at the air vent but no sounds were emitted
from down below. Scully had argued with the eyes and ears
people but she successfully convinced them that she was the
most qualified to use the fiberoptic cameras to decide if
the DD was still alive. She just had this intense desire to
keep the promise she made with Mulder, that she would do her
best to maintain Skinner's dignity at all costs.
The fiberoptics did confirm that Skinner was inside. Scully
only had a brief glimpse of his shoe, which she recognized
from the photograph. She had also seen the old blood caked
around the leg. The cables weren't long enough to snake
further into the box to see if he was still breathing.
There were other people digging, taking turns as they
quickly tired under the unrelenting sun and heat. The box
was more than four feet underground. Scully paced back and
forth, checking to see how far down they were.
More shouted instructions came as they heard the distinctive
thump of a shovel against wood. Even as they cleared the
underground tomb where Skinner's head should be, they just
couldn't budge it even part way, lest they injure the DD
underneath. It was ominous that not a peep was heard from
the box.
More curses came from the people digging and as Scully
peered over someone's shoulder, there was a collective gasp
when they saw that the box was arrogantly emblazoned with
the Harris militia insignia.
Crowbars crunched as the lid was pried open at several
points. Scully then pushed her way in through the mass of
Bureau people
"Okay, people, let the medics get through!" she yelled at
the top of her lungs in her most authoritative voice. A
hush fell on the crowd as the men who had been digging
clambered out. Scully gratefully saw that the two people
left down there were Gutierrez and Parker, part of Skinner's
security team. "Please step away and let the Deputy
Director get as much fresh air as possible!"
Scully managed to clamber down and she was aware of the
smell. But her more experienced nose detected only urine
and sweat plus the more ominous smell of old blood.
However, there was no odor of beginning decomposition.
Gutierrez looked pleadingly at her and Scully managed to
shakily smile. She already had a large blanket over her
arms.
The lid was fully lifted off the box. Scully's small form
was able to get into the box at once and she hastily covered
Skinner's body as fast and as completely as she could. This
time, the paramedics came down with her and the three of
them worked rapidly in the small space as Gutierrez and
Parker got out.
She could see that Skinner was unconscious and a frantic
hand on his neck confirmed that he was alive. The pulse was
very faint and rapid.
"He's alive but unconscious," Scully looked up and made sure
that Gutierrez understood. She grimly smiled as she saw
Gutierrez leave the hushed crowd. She was able to free the
handcuffs. They were ready with the keys since they knew
from the photographs what kind of cuffs Skinner was bound
with. She gently turned the Deputy Director onto his back.
"Sir?" Scully tried to see if he would respond. "Walter?"
He didn't move nor open his eyes. Skinner's skin was dry
with cracked lips. Scully could see the tear tracks on the
unconscious man's face which she efficiently wiped off,
making it appear that she was just removing the remnants of
duct tape.
The airway was clear and Scully listened to his chest.
Fortunately, his blood pressure was normal. She set about
starting two IV lines. Skinner's hands were limp and too
swollen from the cuffs. The veins in his arms were
collapsed. One line was successfully inserted but all three
medical personnel couldn't start another line since he was
so dehydrated. Scully then gently turned Skinner's head and
inserted an IV catheter directly into his jugular, the only
vein still visible. With both lines now going at full
blast, she looked up and asked the paramedic working on
Skinner's leg how the injury was.
The paramedic had snipped away the trouser leg and pulled
off Skinner's sock. He clucked when he saw the gunshot
wound. The leg wasn't bleeding but Scully didn't like the
dusky color of Skinner's foot. The wound was hastily
dressed and Skinner was now ready for transport.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Mulder didn't know how long he was there in the Bronco. He
was just suddenly aware that the helicopter in the clearing
was starting to take off. Did that mean that Skinner was
alive? Would they use a helicopter to transport a dead
body? Mulder started to sit up when someone knocked on the
window and the door was opened.
"Agent Mulder!" Gutierrez' face was unmistakable. The
young agent was smiling, although his olive complexion was
beaded with sweat. "He's alive! Agent Scully is with him
on the way to the hospital! She told me to tell you that he
was unconscious."
Mulder was just too relieved and emotionally exhausted to
react. The younger agent saw that the Bronco still had its
keys in the ignition. He got into the driver's seat and
started the engine.
"I'll take you to the hospital, sir," Gutierrez briskly
said. "I'm from around these parts and I know the fastest
way to Parkland. They have a good trauma service there.
They're the best, sir."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The MedEvac was on its way. Skinner was still unconscious
despite being pumped with a liter of saline already. He
hadn't stirred; Scully had a hand on his arm to catch the
slightest movement. She was worried. Could he have had a
stroke as Mulder feared? She had checked his pupils but
they were equally reactive.
Scully felt Skinner's arm jerk. She saw that he was awake
and was about to say something.
"Fox?" It was barely a whisper and Scully mainly understood
him by reading his lips. Fortunately, the only people on
board were the paramedics who wouldn't know who Skinner was
calling for.
"He's on his way, sir," Scully said, her mouth close to his
ear so that she could be heard above the roar of the
chopper. "He was the one who figured out who had you.
You're safe now, sir."
Skinner nodded. One of the paramedics let him wet his lips
with a water-soaked piece of gauze. Skinner never
remembered water tasting so good.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Gutierrez continued his mindless chatter as he drove as fast
as he could. He kept talking about growing up in the
suburbs of Dallas. A half-hour later, they were still on
the road. Suddenly, Mulder's phone rang but he still
couldn't talk. Gutierrez pulled onto the shoulder of the
road and turned around and located Mulder's phone by
apologetically patting Mulder's jacket.
"Excuse me, sir," Gutierrez said as he answered it. "It's
Agent Scully."
Once Mulder could handle the call, Gutierrez resumed
driving.
"Mulder, he's in surgery right now," Scully's voice
crackled over the distance. "He's very dehydrated, but his
heart seems to be okay. He regained consciousness in the
helicopter. They're doing a fasciotomy of his leg just
under local anesthesia because he's somewhat unstable.
Gangrene was starting to set in because of the swelling and
the infection. But the vascular surgeons said that in their
opinion, the leg would be okay in the long run."
"Thanks, Scully," was all Mulder could mumble in relief.
Most of what she said went over his head, since when Scully
was this excited about something medical, she just fell back
onto the jargon of her profession.
"He was looking for you in the helicopter, Mulder," Scully
reassured him. THAT Mulder understood. "I had to keep him
quiet about that. He seemed coherent enough to me, Mulder."
"Thanks, Scully," Mulder repeated. Scully said goodbye and
hung up.
"I want to tell you that I appreciate all you've done for me
and Walter," Mulder finally turned to Gutierrez.
"You're welcome," Gutierrez cheerily said. In a few minutes,
the Bronco was at Parkland. Mulder flew out of the car,
knowing his way around because they had one or two cases
where he and Scully interviewed some people right in this
very hospital.
He was about to go into another corridor when he heard
someone call his name.
It was Scully who explained to him what procedure Skinner
was undergoing right now.
"It only takes a few minutes, Mulder," Scully said. "It's
different from what you had when your leg got shot in
Raleigh. He doesn't have major vascular injuries. The
gunshot only penetrated a few muscles but he developed
something called compartment syndrome where the swelling of
the soft tissues press against the leg vessels. They say it
wouldn't even leave scarring."
Mulder was totally exhausted now and was at the end of his
rope. Scully directed him into a small room and he crawled
into one of the narrow beds and slept within seconds. Scully
promised to wake him up once Skinner was out of the
operating room.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
POST TRAUMATIC COMFORT
It had been a crazy morning and now Skinner was too tired.
He had gone home by ambulance, straight from the airport.
Mulder had been at his side the whole time and the tensions
of the day had gotten into him, too.
Mulder already told him that the Director knew about their
relationship. Freeh had accommodated Mulder's request to
stay in Dallas, giving him an innocuous assignment in the
area so that he could see Skinner in the hospital as
frequently as possible without raising suspicions. Skinner
requested a no visitors policy and the rest of the Bureau
personnel had respected his wishes.
So now, he was back in the apartment. Mulder wanted him
upstairs but Skinner had enough of lying down. He was
sitting on the living room couch, sipping his first scotch
in ages. He smiled tiredly when Mulder put the whole bottle
in front of him, but Skinner wasn't going to get drunk. He
was going to savor every minute of being home and he was
determined to stay lucid all throughout.
His leg was propped on a pillow. It still had to be kept
elevated most of the time and he was supposed to keep his
weight off it for a week. His crutches were around
somewhere. Skinner's hands were less stiff now, the edema
from the cuffs having subsided with time. Overall, if he
really thought about it, his injuries in this ordeal were
trivial compared to the injuries he incurred in Nam. But he
was nineteen, then not fifty.
Mulder returned after a few minutes of fixing their luggage
upstairs. He saw his lover looking out the window from his
place on the couch.
"Are you hungry, you want anything special?" Mulder asked.
Mrs. Jackson was finally told of what happened and once she
knew that Skinner was going home, she cooked up his
favorites, none of the "healthy" stuff he tolerated because
he had to. Skinner predictably lost weight as a result of
his ordeal. The agent was treating him like a piece of
china but so far the older man hadn't complained. Skinner
smiled and shook his head.
"Just sit beside me," Skinner drank from his glass and
patted the couch. Mulder did so and Skinner leaned against
him and closed his eyes. The music the younger man had put
on was soothing and calming.
It was amazing to Mulder that despite what happened, people
were still unaware of their relationship. Twenty four-hour
security for Skinner was provided in the hospital but
Mulder's daily visits, occasionally with Scully in tow were
viewed as debriefings. Of course, the members of the
militia were rounded up successfully. That was the reason
why Skinner refused any beefing up of security for him.
Actually, Mulder wouldn't minded any alteration in their
lifestyle as long as Skinner was alive and well. But
Skinner had been adamant about keeping the status quo of
their lives.
"I almost lost my life, fox, and I'm not about to compromise
on our life together anymore," Skinner had said.
Skinner woke up just long enough to have dinner and after
cleaning, Mulder herded him upstairs where they went to bed.
The agent changed the dressings on Skinner's leg, gave him
the pills he needed and helped him out of his clothes.
Despite his claims that he did enough resting in the
hospital, Skinner eased into another sleep within the circle
of Mulder's arms.
Mulder read quietly in bed and when he was yawning a few
hours later, he turned off his bedside lamp and slept.
"No!" Mulder was rudely awakened when he felt Skinner
struggling beside him.
"Get me out of here!" Skinner was thrashing and at first,
Mulder held him, hoping that the older man would calm down.
But Skinner was approaching near hysteria and the agent
realized that it was the darkness that was causing the
problems. Mulder hastily turned on the light and cursed
himself for shutting it off in the first place. He should
have known better.
"Sssshhh.Walter," Mulder soothed his lover as he lay
trembling, rocking the older man gently in his arms. "I'm
here, you're safe.you're not in the box anymore."
At first, Skinner was turned away from him but his need for
contact overwhelmed him and he faced the younger man and
wept against him.
Even in the hospital, Skinner had been in control. He tried
to say to himself that he could handle it. The therapist in
the hospital had not been able to establish enough of a
rapport in his one-week stay. But going home today had
driven home what he might have lost had everything not
turned out right. Waking up in the dark had driven him to
the panic he experienced when he was buried underground.
The DD wept brokenly. It took a while for him to stop.
"Are you all right now?" Mulder asked after a time. Skinner
nodded against his chest, as Mulder showered him with light
kisses just to reassure him. It was distressing, of course,
to see Skinner so troubled, but at the same time, it felt
more than pleasant to be the one giving comfort to the older
man after years of being the recipient of such attentions.
"I dreamt that I'd lost you," Skinner murmured after a
while. "You know the hardest part of being down there?"
"What?" Mulder was rubbing the older man's back.
"I though I would die down there and you'd never know where
I was," Skinner sighed. "Then I realized that it wasn't
the worst part. I had this idea in my head that you were
looking for me, and what would happen to you if you did
indeed find me but what if I was dead? I couldn't stand the
idea that you would be so guilty even if I knew that you
tried your best. Then I was just hoping that I ever died,
that you would never find me. But later, I got to thinking
that you wouldn't have the closure that you needed and it
would be like Samantha all over again. So I just tried to
stay alive as much as I could."
"You're back, I found you and you managed to stay alive,"
Mulder murmured. He slipped a hand under Skinner's pajama
shirt so that he could touch bare skin. Soothing touches
and crooning eventually lulled the DD to sleep.
Everything was back to the same routine after a few days.
Skinner preferred going to Mulder's therapist, the same one
who had helped the agent about the drive-in debacle. He
even went back to work after two weeks.
There were quite a few night terrors for a while, cutting
into both their sleep. Mulder found out that the bedroom
had to have the lights switched on for Skinner to get a good
night's sleep. Later, Mulder finally gave in and talked
privately with Freeh, requesting that his out of town cases
be deferred temporarily. He really didn't want to leave
Skinner at nights for a while. But like most problems, time
only healed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SPEECH SURPRISE
Mulder snuck into the bedroom. He just came in from Utah on
another case. He dropped his bags carefully to avoid making
a sound. He nudged Taylor with his foot and the dog walked
out of the room. Skinner was still sleeping with the lights
on. Whereas before, he was satisfied with his customary
three pillows, he now hogged Mulder's pillow as well. But
Mulder was satisfied that the older man was able to sleep
alone when the agent was out of town.
Just as he had predicted, the moment he got under the
covers, Skinner turned to him and started kissing him.
After a lull of quite a few months, their lovemaking was
back with a vengeance. He couldn't get enough of Skinner,
kissing the older man with the intensity that had been
demonstrated to him the first few years they were together.
Their tongues sparred between them and Mulder moaned as
Skinner tweaked his nipples. He in turn sucked his lover's
nipples and slowly trailed down his mouth until he had the
older man's penis under his busy mouth.
Skinner moaned as he lay back and enjoyed himself. The
agent was holding him by the root and was alternately
sucking him and kissing the insides of his thighs. But
Mulder knew better that to let Skinner's excitement reach
its culmination before he had a share of the fun. After
all, Skinner was indeed older and usually only came once for
the night.
Skinner entered him from behind with an arm caressing
Mulder's stomach and his leg over Mulder's thigh. The agent
was so eager for his lover that he was pushing back against
him.
"Easy, Fox," Skinner gasped as he felt Mulder's enthusiastic
hips grinding against him. Precisely because they were both
older and more experienced with each other, they were able
to prolong the loving, savoring every gasp, shudder, tingle,
groan and moan elicited from the other. Mulder pumped his
own member and came with soft moans and sighs, reveling in
Skinner's embrace as his body shuddered its completion.
Skinner followed not soon after, gently nipping Mulder's
shoulder as the love in his heart overflowed through his
body and then into Mulder.
They remained joined for a while, thigh to thigh, buttock to
groin, back to chest. Mulder could clearly discern
Skinner's heartbeat against his back, his hot sweet breath
against the stubble of his cheek. They disengaged and
Mulder turned to Skinner and held him in his arms.
..............
Scully shook her head. Mulder was fidgeting again. She
sighed and smacked his arm to still him, much to the
consternation of her husband.
"Dana," John warned. He still couldn't get used to seeing
the two together sometimes, especially with the bickering
way they had with each other. His wife just smiled at him
sweetly and batted her eyes.
They had picked up Mulder from his apartment earlier that
evening. Scully had marveled again at how good her partner
looked in his tuxedo. She was glad she still wasn't
showing, despite being two months pregnant.
Mulder had been embarrassed at first, seeing Scully all
dressed up for the evening. It was different seeing one's
partner looking very beautiful for an important dinner. The
green gown with the new emerald necklace and earrings from
John only set off her fiery hair and her creamy skin.
Scully was just Scully his partner, but tonight she was a
lady and Mulder had to admit that he was awed.
They hardly saw each other in such formal attire and because
John was with her, Mulder treated her with more than usual
deference at first. But as the evening progressed, their
old partner relationship had reestablished itself helped
along by a little champagne.
By the time Skinner was about to give his speech, John had a
sense of d,j. vu that his wife and her partner seemed like
they were just in an FBI beach party if one could ignore the
formal gown on his wife and the tuxedo on Fox. They weren't
just swatting each other, they were now playing with the
centerpiece such that Mrs. Jackson had to admonish them when
they started shredding the leaves. Of course, John had no
need to be jealous; he had long ceased to suspect that Fox
swung both ways.
John could only roll his eyes when Skinner's Uncle Charles,
who was also at their table, started talking about that
elusive ghost in his townhouse.
The other people at this important Bureau function were
surprisingly friendly and Scully had attributed it to
Mulder's successful deductions that led to the DD's rescue
six months ago. That incident, although very painful from a
personal perspective, had actually boosted Mulder's erratic
image in the Bureau.
Scully and her husband didn't know that a big part of
Mulder's hyperactivity was due to the nervousness he shared
with Skinner. The DD was about to give his going away
speech. He was finally retiring, a little bit behind
schedule. Mulder already knew the speech by heart, having
ghostwritten some of the parts and listened to Skinner
rehearse it for the past few days. The DD wanted to
emphasize that this retirement had been planned even before
he accepted the position, that he wasn't retiring because of
the unfortunate incidents a few months ago.
Scully was the only one who saw Mulder mouthing some of the
parts of Skinner's speech to himself. It was a lengthy
talk, but not boring, punctuated by a lot of laughs. Scully
still marveled at the way Skinner had changed since she
first knew him as their boss. The man on the podium,
confident, and seemingly at ease was in sharp contrast to
the uptight hardass, the grim and unapproachable AD on the
Tooms case. He had interoffice politics down pat by now.
Scully wondered if that change for the better was due in
large part to Mulder.
"This isn't part of his speech," Mulder muttered worriedly
to her as Skinner was winding up.
".my being here today would not have been possible, in fact
I would not be here at all if it weren't for one person. I
would like to personally thank Special Agent Fox Mulder for
what he had done for me."
Scully could only gasp in amazement. She couldn't believe
that Skinner actually acknowledged his relationship with
Mulder out in the open. She saw Mulder frozen in his seat,
waiting for the contempt he was expecting from the other
Bureau people. Instead, to their surprise, the people were
just clapping. It was then that Scully realized the
everyone thought that Skinner was referring to Mulder's role
in finding him in Texas. She whispered to Mulder who
eventually relaxed and gave Skinner a smile from across the
room.
Only Freeh, Gutierrez, Mrs. Jackson, Uncle Charles, Scully
and her husband knew the double meaning of Skinner's words.
After all, Skinner's tone of voice hadn't changed at all,
still business-like, as though Mulder was just one for the
people he was continuing to thank throughout his speech.
Kimberly beamed. Skinner hadn't forgotten to thank her.
Skinner continued on with his acknowledgements and Mulder
grinned sheepishly at Scully as she squeezed his hand. She
had seen the stages of emotion that crossed his face in that
instant: disbelief then finally a profound love.
As soon as the speech ended, Mulder excused himself and said
goodbye. He went to the front of the hotel where Gutierrez
stood.
"For a while there, I thought he was giving himself away,"
Gutierrez commented, opening the limousine rear door as
Mulder got in.
Once the security agent got into the driver's seat, Mulder
said, "So did I."
They waited only a few minutes ,before Skinner finally
entered the limousine.
"Got you there, didn't I?" Skinner teased as he switched on
the privacy panel between the passenger side and the driver.
"You should have warned me that you were going to do that,"
Mulder playfully punched him in the arm before kissing him
thoroughly.
"I never did tell you why we had to do all this, did I?
About not telling just everyone about us," Skinner said as
he hugged Mulder to him. "I only had a few years in the
Bureau, Fox. I did it for you.
"You still have many years left in the Bureau if you opt to
stay in your present line of work. I would never have wanted
you to remain and face the consequences of your relationship
alone once I retired," Skinner finished.
"Congratulations, Walter, for a job well done," Mulder said.
"How many years were you in the Bureau?"
"Twenty five years. Never injured in the line of duty,
unlike someone I know, except for a few months ago."
It was a stretch limousine so both of them had no problems
changing from their tuxedos to more comfortable clothes.
The tuxedos were stuffed into a garment bag.
The two of them leaned comfortably against each other as the
limousine sped through the DC streets. It seemed like a
lifetime when they first got together so many years ago,
when Skinner had been a concerned AD and Mulder an agent at
the end of his rope. Mulder was now more than ready to
handle himself; Skinner had no more qualms about leaving him
and his X-files in the Bureau. Even though Scully was
pregnant and was likely to be away from his side in the
near future, Skinner wasn't worried.
The limousine finally pulled up to the departure ramp of
Dulles.
"Tickets and passports?" Skinner asked. Mulder patted his
jacket pocket and nodded.
Skinner switched off the privacy screen and as the shield
rolled down, he thanked Gutierrez for the last time. No
more security agents hanging around his neck from now on and
it was a relief for both Skinner and Mulder.
"TWA to Paris," Mulder told the porter as he and Skinner
emerged from the car.
"First class?" the porter asked as he took the bags from
Mulder.
"Yes," Skinner answered, grasping Mulder's hand. The
younger man was surprised at first, but lovingly squeezed
back at Skinner's strong fingers.
Then the two of them stepped with alacrity through the
airport doors to start a new phase of their lives together.
END OF BACCARAT FIGURINES IV
Feedback will be much appreciated. It will take tons of
mail and quite a lot of pleadings to persuade me to write a
sequel after this segment.
However, I might continue to send out Baccarat Fragments and
Baccarat Pieces once in a while.
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"A beacon in the night."
Mulder in reference to Skinner
Nisei
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