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. -------------------------------------------- "A beacon in the night." Mulder in reference to Skinner Nisei ---------------------------------------------