Choices Cost – Chapter 00

TITLE: Choices Cost - Chapter 00 - Win or Lose

NAME: Mik

CATEGORY: SRA

RATING: NC-17. M/Sk. This story contains slash i.e. m/m sex. So, if you don't like that type of thing – STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution. Of course if you have four arms you can throw caution to the wind.

SUMMARY: What do coffee, Wisconsin and Skinner's head have in common? A series about a beginning that came out of "The End".

ARCHIVE: Anywhere as long as my name and addy stay attached.

FEEDBACK: Feedback? Well, yes, if you insist...

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: This is an AU, very vague spoilers for multiple episodes, nothing current.

KEYWORDS: story slash angst Skinner Mulder NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use. I'd rather say that they really are mine, but I've been advised to deny everything.

Author's notes: This is a pressie to my beta. She wanted it, and I gave it to her.

If you like this, there's more at https://www.squidge.org/3wstop

If you didn't like it, come see me, anyway. Pet the dog.

Choices Cost – Chapter 00 – Win or Lose

by Mik

It came to me in a hotel room in Wisconsin. I wasn't doing anything profound like plumbing the depths of the obligatory Bible I found in the night stand, contemplating the stars outside my window, or even trolling for porn on my laptop and the Internet. I was staring at a spot on that hideous carpet where I'd managed to dump half a cup of cold coffee fifteen minutes ago, and watched it seep into the carpet like black oil. It struck me that the shape of the spill reminded me of Walter Skinner's head.

A hell of a thing for me to be thinking about on a Friday night, I told myself - my boss's head. For a moment I even thought about calling Scully from the next room to tell me if it didn't look exactly like the old A.D.'s dome. I overcame the impulse and walked around the spot very carefully. (I didn't want to step in it and ruin the effect until I'd come to a conclusion, nor did I want to get my socks wet.)

I decided, after far too much consideration, that it looked nothing like Skinner's head, and I was very relieved. Then, as I went into the bathroom to collect the last of those paper thin towels to sop up what coffee I could, I wondered why I would even let Skinner come into my thoughts? The case, although hellish, was over, I hadn't done anything that would require an ass-chewing when we got back to D.C. (well, not much), and he hadn't deliberately thrown any screwballs my way in a month. Why would he even be occupying space in the grey matter?

On my hands and knees, wiping up the mess, I realized I had been thinking of him a great deal lately. He had barged, unbidden, into my thoughts in the oddest places; in the corner market while I was trying to convince myself that one green vegetable a year would not prove fatal; on the fourteenth lap in the Hoover's pool while I was debating the merits of swimming over running; while I was trying to write my mother a letter that wouldn't sound like whining or excuse making while begging off Thanksgiving with her. I could still see his disapproving frown and hear that rasp on wood voice saying, 'She's your mother, Agent Mulder.' "Walter, I'm giving you notice, stay the hell out of my sex fantasies," I said aloud.

The connecting door opened. Scully, in one of my tee shirts and her own red socks, stood there, frowning at me. "Mulder, did you call me?"

I felt foolish, kneeling there. Only Scully could appear, dressed in such an adorably ridiculous ensemble and make me feel foolish. I drew back to sit on my heels. "Nope. Just talking to myself." I looked down at the towel in my hand. Barely damp. That coffee was well and truly on its way to the third floor, by now. "I spilled coffee."

She nodded, not taking her eyes from mine. I know that look. It's the Mulder-you're-one-step-from-the-Thorazine look. Patent pending.

I looked down at the carpet. The stain remained. "Scully, come here and tell me what this looks like to you?"

She came over and peered down. "Um...Bigfoot?"

I sighed at her. "Come around and look at it from this angle."

She stepped to my side of Walter's chin. "Ummm...a map of Roswell?"

I stood and tossed the towel through the open door of the bathroom. "Yeah, that's it." I hated it when she tried to patronize me and she had been doing a lot of that lately. "'Night, Scully." I dropped down at the side of my cement slab - er, bed, and started tugging the loosened tie from my neck.

She was still looking at the floor. "I know what it looks like to me," she murmured.

"Scully, it's a coffee spill, not a Rorschach." I tossed the tie to the foot of the bed. She was still looking down. "What?"

She was frowning, ruefully. "This is going to sound silly, but doesn't it look just a little bit like Assistant Director Skinner?" She bent slightly at the knees and traced the area I would have called his brow. "Look here."

I nodded at her. "Yeah, that's what I thought too."

"No, really, Mulder." She straightened. "What did it look like to you?"

I shook my head. She doesn't believe me even when I'm telling the truth.

"Mulder." She can make those two syllables into fourteen.

"It looked like a map of Wisconsin, to me," I lied and gestured toward the door. "Get some sleep."

She didn't move. "Mulder, Wisconsin isn't -"

"I know, I know." I stood and started easing her toward the door. "'Night, Scully."

"Mulder?" She put a hand on mine. "Are you all right?"

I nodded. "Sure. Fine." Don't ask, I warned myself. "Why?" Do I ever listen to me? Ever? Hell, no.

"You've been so preoccupied recently."

"Hmm?"

"You see -"

I cut her off with a grin. "I'm fine, G-Woman. Go to bed. And can I expect my tee shirt back before the next millennium?"

Didn't work. "Mulder, I know you've been through a lot lately, and this case took a toll on both of us." She was doing her gentle, partner/Mother thing. "Maybe you ought to consider actually taking some of your vacation this year."

"Yes, Doctor," I promised dutifully. "Now, listen to me carefully: Go...To...Bed."

The gentleness was gone, replaced by exasperation in the blink of bright blue eyes. "I was in bed when you called me to look at that coffee stain," she retorted and began the speech I knew had been coming all day and thus far had deftly sidestepped. "Mulder, really, looking for X-Files in coffee stains? The X-Files have been closed and -"

"Don't." I put a hand on her shoulder. "Good night, Scully." I pushed the door shut, and for some perverse reason, flicked the lock into place. Damn, damn, damn. Why did she have to say it? She'd gone three days without that 'The X-Files are Closed' speech. Also patent pending. Did she think I didn't know, didn't fully comprehend that eight years of my life had gone up in flames, and now we were chasing arsonists, mail frauds and people who make bomb threats and harass people on the Internet? I know, dear God, I know.

I settled on the side of the bed, feeling that now familiar twist in my gut, still tasting the smoke. Skinner's face came to me again, that look of concern he gave me when I stumbled out of the charred ruins of what used to be my office. For such a gruff, hard-assed guy, that look was pretty comforting. Thinking back on it made me wish I could have just climbed into his arms and let him fight off the world for awhile...

The thought was a full two seconds gone before I felt that unexpected lurch in my psyche. What the hell? I gave myself a firm shake. Daddy issues, I told myself. It's clinical. It's textbook. I stood and rubbed my arms as if chilled. I was chilled. A grown man should not fantasize about the comforts of another man's arms. Another thought came to me, another memory, this one more tangible. I could actually feel the heat of his body against my back as he subdued me in the hallway outside his office. Oh, no, I said to myself. We aren't going down memory lane with Walter Skinner tonight. I went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. Then there was the time he held me down over a desk because I kept seeing - "Damn it, stop this!" I said sharply.

Scully knocked again. I realized that she had been knocking pretty steadily since I shut the door in her face and defiantly locked it. "Mulder?"

I pulled the door open with an unfeigned sigh of irritation. "Yes?"

She pushed her way inside. "Mulder, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing that a little sleep wouldn't cure," I told her back as she moved to the edge of the bed and perched. C'mon, man, she's sitting on your bed. Doesn't that do anything for you? No, not tonight.

She smirked at me. "That's rich, coming from you." She crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up, I could clearly see her nipples through the cotton of my shirt. "Mulder, I'm worried about you. Something's gotten under your skin, what is it?"

"Under my skin, Scully? Is that a medical term?"

"Come on, Mulder." She yawned broadly. "It's almost midnight. I want to get a little sleep this week."

"And being here would help you accomplish this … how?"

She looked at me as if it was obvious. "I can't sleep with you talking to yourself and spilling things over here."

I frowned at her. "Scully, are you all right?"

"What's that mean?" she snapped.

"It means that what you said makes no sense. I talk to myself all the time. When has that become an issue for you?"

Then I saw something in those laser blue eyes that made that chasm of guilt somewhere beneath my breastbone open up and swallow me whole. "Scully?"

Her lower lip began to quiver. "It's all over," she whispered. "It's all over and we never changed a thing."

Tears? My pragmatic Scully's eyes were filling with tears. Over the X-Files? She was the last person who would cry over their demise. Well, second to last - Skinner was the last. Damn it, there he is again! "We changed a lot," I promised her quickly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We did. We caught killers and stopped maniacs and aliens and …" I stopped because I felt for a moment as if I wanted to cry. "And who the hell says it's over?"

"They do." She wasn't sobbing, but there was a querulous little break to her voice. "They won."

"Fuck that!" I snarled. "They haven't won, yet. We're still here." I touched my chest. "They might have destroyed the evidence, but they can't take away what we know, what we've seen." I brushed her hair back from her eyes. "Come on, Scully, don't do this to me. You're the strong, prosaic one, not me." I knelt in front of her. "Don't give up on me, now. We'll get the X-Files back. We'll beat them. I promise." I tried to smile up into her eyes. "Promise."

"We've lost so much," she whispered, anguished.

"I know." She had lost almost everything. I hated myself for that.

"All our work..."

'Our work'? What about Melissa? What about Emily? What about her chance for more children? What the fuck does 'our work' matter in the face of all that? "It's okay, Scully." I paused, helplessly. "Really."

She looked down at me.

I did it. I had tried once before, but a bee stung her and she ended up buried under the polar ice cap, filled with green goo. I was fairly certain that wouldn't happen again. I leaned up and brushed a kiss across her lips.

A warm, surrendering little sound came out of her, and she leaned down into me. And then something else happened again: I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss Walter Skinner.

I jerked back so fast she must have thought I was the one stung by the bee this time. "Mulder?" she whispered.

"I … um … I …" I did not know what to say to her. "I'm sorry, Scully. I shouldn't have done that."

She quirked a teary smile at me. "You've done it before."

I tried smiling back. "Yeah, and look what happened to you."

She stopped smiling and those little bow lips turned down in a doubtful frown. "So you say."

"C'mon, Scully, you know what happened to you. You saw it. You saw the -"

She put a hand on my shoulder. "Mulder, I know you believe it. That's all that matters to me."

Now that hurt. No wonder I'd been getting the funny looks and painful speeches so much. She really did think I'd gone (as they say in psychology 101) 'round the bend. Maybe I had, if I'd prefer Walter Skinner to Dana Scully.

Her fingers curled around my shoulder and squeezed. "Come on, Mulder, you need to get some sleep."

"Yeah." I backed away from her and stood, avoiding her eyes. I must be losing my mind, I thought, performing an almost comic dance to get out of her way as she went to the door. "'Night."

She paused at the door. She's a scientist. She knew something had just happened. "Mulder?"

I don't think the scientist was prepared for the harshness of my tone when I said, "Don't," without turning back to her. The psychologist certainly wasn't. I heard her sigh, and then I heard the door close gently. Damn, damn, DAMN! Mulder, what the hell is the matter with you this time? I dropped face down on my bed. Walter S. Skinner, get the hell out of my brain, right now!

I rolled onto my back and tried to deal with this bizarre fixation rationally. Okay, what is it about him I find attractive? Hmm … couldn't be the fact that he's as big as a tank, and just as mean. Couldn't be those eyes the color of coffee or melted chocolate and just as hot. I lifted my head and frowned down at the rest of my body, wondering if I'd been replaced by a pod person without my knowing it. When the hell did I start noticing his eyes? Half the time, you can't even tell the bastard's got eyes with those glasses of his.

Flopping back on the bed, I pressed the heels of my hands against my own eyes. Think, Mulder. Why are you suddenly obsessing on a man who's generally made your life miserable for the past six years? Daddy issues? I suggested again. Of course. He's my boss. He's big and strong and powerful, and in a position of authority over me. Just like a daddy. And, just like a daddy, he has his moments of compassion and kindness, two things which I'm in a frame of mind to need. That's all. Textbook. I mentally closed the file and dusted my hands. It'll be gone in the morning. I got up and began to undress.

- END chapter 00 -