TITLE: Going Up The Country - Part 1

NAME: frogdoggie

E-MAIL: frogdoggie@hotmail.com

CATEGORY: SRA

RATING: NC-17. SK/SC. This story contains explicit het sex. So, if you don’t like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.

SUMMARY: What if it all ended not with a bang, but with a whimper? Skinner and Scully explore their relationship after the aliens are defeated and the AD has left the Bureau. Missing a part of this opus or just want to read more of my fic? Then surf here: https://www.squidge.org/3wstop or here, on my mirror site at: http://adult.dencity.com/frogdoggie

FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? They only serve to warm my body and mind.

ARCHIVE: Sure. Anywhere - as long as my name and e-mail addy stay on it.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: Let's say this is an AU. It occurs after the series ends in any event. The war's over so to speak. Spoilers would include pretty much the entire series but with specific mention made to events in Zero Sum, Apocrypha, SR819, X-Cops and Fight the Future.

KEYWORDS: story romance Skinner Scully NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, 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.

Author's notes: Bragging rights to the first person who can figure out where I got the title for this story.

Now a few words...

This story is told through Skinner's POV. Scully has a voice but it is primarily Skinner's odyssey to cope with life after the invasion is over and his relationship with Scully. Hopefully I balanced their viewpoints enough that Scully is not slighted in the narrative. If someone feels she is however, I apologize. Sorry...but the AD needed to speak and so that's the way this story went.

Also, I farm but I haven't included all the nitty gritty details of the farming experience in this story. I've added just enough to give you a taste of what a day on a farm might be like. I just had an idea you probably didn't want to hear the ins and outs of chemicals versus natural manure fertilizer or how you till and disk your fields. ROFL. My apologies again if I'm mistaken in that assumption. At any rate, the characters have center stage here, not life down on the farm. So, hopefully the story will be an enjoyable read under those circumstances.

Lastly, this story deals in part with religion and issues of religion vs sex. I haven't read very many fanfics where this subject matter is dealt with in regards to Skinner or the Skinner/Scully relationship. So, this is my attempt to do so. The opinions that I've fitted into the characterizations herein are my own and they aren't meant to criticize anyone's religious views. Please bear that in mind when reading the story. Thanks for your tolerance and understanding.

Going Up The Country

by frogdoggie

Sunday, June 17, 2001. A farm outside Lyons, Pennsylvania.

Walter Skinner stood on the farmhouse front porch, a cup of strong black coffee in hand and basked in the early morning sun on another perfect summer day. Sunday. A day of mostly rest and in truth he welcomed it he thought with a rueful twitch of his lips. He'd thought he was in shape. But the weeks he'd been here helping Harlan had made him feel every one of his 48 years.

But Harlan and Nancy had needed the help...no question so he didn't mind some of the minor aches and pains. It was a wake-up call anyway. A sign that he needed to be more attentive to his exercise routine.

He tipped the mug of coffee to his lips and took a sip of it as the sun bathed his face. As it warmed him he stopped to consider how one man's misfortune may have been his good luck. He wasn't comfortable with the idea that Harlan's accident might have been the thing that turned his life around. It bothered him...but he had to admit he was becoming very grateful to be out in rural Pennsylvania. He was still amazed by how very much he liked the farm life and work.

Harlan and Nancy Creed had been his friends for a long time. He'd kept in touch with Harlan since college. Harlan had been a Nam vet too...a little late pursuing his higher education due to a war wound. In Harlan's case he'd had part of his foot and almost all his nuts blown off by shrapnel from a land mine. When he told Skinner the story he was philosophical about it saying he'd only been standing next to the guy who stepped on it so he considered himself lucky. He didn't have a drop of self pity in him. The fact that he'd married Nancy in college while studying agriculture and fully intended to both farm and start a family had impressed Skinner. The guy was just one tenacious, courageous son of a bitch. They'd become fast friends and Skinner loved Nancy like his own sister and Harlan like a brother. When Harlan inherited from his father's estate, he bought his beef cattle and feed crop spread near Lyons, Pennsylvania, near where Nancy had grown up. Skinner had been at the housewarming. He'd already been accepted at Quantico at that point. So Harlan and Nancy had been farming since before Skinner was an agent for the Bureau.

Over the years their friendship had remained intact. They'd stood by him through his divorce always willing to lend an ear or a shoulder. Skinner was godfather to their son and daughter. Yeah...they'd succeeded in starting a family. The children came a little later than originally planned of course, but they weren't going to complain. It seemed that at one point Harlan decided on a last ditch effort to give his wife a baby. He went in to the University hospital in Pennsylvania and lo and behold a perceptive doctor thought that with microsurgery he might be able to give Harlan and Nancy a shot at becoming parents. So 10 years ago, the twins, Harlan Jr. and Amanda were born.

Harlan and Nancy were good people. Never judgmental...even when they sensed something was radically wrong between Skinner and the Bureau...that their friend was deeply troubled by things he had done and was doing. He could never tell them all the details and in truth...he didn't want to tell them. He wanted to protect them from all that and to this day he didn't know what he would have done if that darkness had touched their lives. He considered it a lucky act of God that it never had and didn't think about the reason why too deeply...he was just thankful.

They'd always welcomed him into their home...even during that miserable three weeks when he'd fled Washington after being released from the hospital that first time with the nanocytes. He'd told them he'd had a hypertension incident, been put on medication and instructed to rest. He'd practically begged them on bent knees to let him come down and relax at Creed Farm. There had been no question. He was to come right away and not worry about imposing at all.

They'd made the same offer when he'd been given the boot out of the Bureau in March of 2000...but he'd declined. He wasn't really thinking straight then to be honest. Everything had happened so fast. The grays' underground battle against the resistance aliens and the resistance aliens' eventual massacre. The slip-up in security that allowed the greater plan to invade the Earth to be ripped wide open and laid before the American public and those in the government still uncorrupted by the coconspirators. Mulder and Scully triumphant at last. The feverish development of the truly safe and effective vaccination that rendered mankind invulnerable to infection by the black oil and the subsequent developmental breakthrough by Scully and her team of scientists of an airborne virus that would directly kill the grays. Once that was released in the atmosphere the grays either died or evacuated the Earth for the vast reaches of space.

Mankind held their collective breath and waited for the other shoe to drop...annihilation at the hands of the vengeful aliens. But it never came. Mulder's theory was that the grays were a dying race and had lost any powerful weapons of mass destruction otherwise they would have conquered with force instead of subterfuge and biotechnology all along. So when push came to shove, they perished or fled. Whether any of them survived was a moot point Skinner thought. The Earth was saved and that was the main point. Mankind was safe from outside domination at least...and then the real clean-up began.

Skinner had been caught in the backwash. The Congressional hearings. His name mentioned by other men in a hell of a lot more trouble than him. So, he was subpoenaed along with the coconspirators or those with questionable loyalties. There had been a whirlwind of publicity. Everyone concerned, even the 'good guys' like Mulder and Scully didn't get any peace from the media onslaught. People like Skinner, the suspect, had it twice as bad. It was like sharks in a feeding frenzy or Skinner thought in his case, hyenas, jackals and vultures flying in to strip the carcass.

The irony of the situation was...he was largely exonerated as not being exactly duplicitous...even his betrayal of Mulder and Scully was mitigated by the idea he was giving the information on Mulder's condition and "talent" to the resistance as the lesser of two evils. Of course by the time all that came out he'd been tried in the press and it didn't matter. He was caught in some kind of gray area...perceived as indecisive, lacking integrity...a man without a conscience, a cause, whatever...he was fucked basically.

So, in truth the balancing act he'd done all those years had proved to be as well as he could do under the circumstances according to the congressional powers that be. Too bad John Q. Public didn't see things more charitably. On top of all that, he still had a healthy dose of self-disgust because for one thing he didn't forgive himself for betraying Mulder and Scully no matter who got that information he'd turned over. He believed the bad press on that one...oh yes, sir. Also...he cringed over his cowardice because it was also pretty obvious from testimony that he could have done a hell of a lot more...even under the circumstances. The press had a field day on that one as well. Walter Skinner had his 15 minutes of shame, to coin a phrase. He really knew that was the case when a joke about him came out of Jay Leno's mouth on the Tonight Show for Christ's sake.

Mulder had interceded for him in the end over the loyalty issue. It was Mulder's contention that the circumstances i.e. the onboard 'wetware' that was swimming in his bloodstream had given him no choice but to distance himself at the end. Mulder backed him up on saying he did his balancing act because he felt he was more useful to them with his job at the Hoover intact. He was their inside man in some ways too and as such had tried at some points to labor behind the scenes to aid their cause. Mulder painted the betrayal as something atypical. Said Skinner was a man caught in the middle by that point with little choice but to do or die. Yeah, well he still thought he'd betrayed them no matter what Mulder or the bureaucrats like himself said.

And of course there had been Scully. Where Mulder seemed to understand and forgive him, Scully had been a different matter altogether. Well...there was a lot more involved with Scully than just his basic betrayal of her and Mulder. Further...complications. He didn't want to think about that either even though he suspected that extra bit of old history between them had exacerbated the problem.

The reasons didn't matter however. Not really. Scully had gone along with Mulder outwardly, even seemed in agreement and supportive of Skinner in front of the press. But Skinner still had a suspicion that she considered him guilty by sin of omission as well as sitting on his hands at the very least and her treatment of him was polite only for Mulder's sake. At least that was the vibe he got from her in their brief interaction during that period. After all, Mulder had been in his mind. Maybe that gave him a bit of an unfair advantage over Scully in understanding his true heart. That idea made him sad too...to think...to think that...well...whatever. He wouldn't have blamed either one of them if they'd hated his living guts.

So, after the hearings he shouldn't have been surprised when Freeh suggested he take early retirement all things considered. He didn't come right out and demand Skinner's resignation. Skinner smelled Mulder all over that turn of affairs too. The retirement idea should have hurt nonetheless but by that time, Skinner was just numb. He had tried to serve as best he could he told himself but that self-disgust was still burning within him and he couldn't blame Freeh and the higher ups in the Bureau for wanting his removal. He probably didn't deserve to serve the public any longer anyway since as he saw it he'd been an indecisive coward as an Assistant Director. A real waste of the taxpayers' money he told himself. End game. He just didn't have the fight left in him to disagree with the ultimate outcome any longer. He wanted it to be over. So, he retired...no pension at his own suggestion since he really didn't need the money...although they insisted he take the health insurance. He would have laughed there at the irony if he hadn't known it was probably a good idea given his unique "blood disease".

He cleaned out his office in front of a tearful Kimberly Cook on a Friday afternoon and walked out of the Hoover forever...

And right into the arms of the CIA and the Defense Department. "Mr. Skinner...I'm sure you'd like to be rid of those annoying machines in your blood wouldn't you?" they'd said. "I would imagine you'd finally like to get around to doing something for your country instead of sitting with your thumb up your ass?" Like he had a choice at that point? He was taken at gunpoint, under protest, on an all expense paid vacation to a secluded retreat for...rest, recuperation and...experimentation.

Well ostensibly they were trying to cure him they said. Oh yeah, right...pull the other one. He knew samples of his blood were in the DOD weapons laboratory there in the desert....he thought it was the Nevada desert but he couldn't be sure ...and God knew where else his samples might be going. He was as pissed as hell and didn't cooperate. They drugged him so he had to just lay back and accept the situation. There was nothing else he could do...again. Krycek was dead and the technology behind the nanocytes died with him so Skinner was the great white hope when it came to unlocking the secret of the probes in his body.

It took Mulder and Scully and to Freeh's credit, Bureau support, three weeks to find him and then there was yet another scandal involving dirty members of the CIA, the DOD and a European faction of the last members of the Consortium led by Conrad Strughold. No one really thought these last ditch machinations had anything to do with an alien invasion. They had more to do with world domination and economic/corporate power and monopolization. So, Skinner had been a pawn in a money game this time. Bastardized for the almighty buck.

Strughold was never found but it was presumed he died in the explosion that blew up the facility in yes, Nevada, where they'd kept Skinner, destroying everything including the samples of his blood...hopefully. In any event no nanotechnology had surfaced anywhere yet so it was assumed that was the case.

Skinner was taken back to DC to St. Katherine's Hospital...gee just like old home week there...to recover from what the last remaining Consortium biotechs had done to him. Tests confirmed what Scully had a suspicion might be the case...the nanocytes were gone. They'd destroyed the evidence and of course if Mulder and Scully hadn't found him in time they probably would have disposed of him too. Skinner had no idea what they'd done to the nanocytes in him, being drugged a lot of the time but he wasn't the bionic man anymore. So, that was one weight off his shoulders.

In fact, he was no worse for wear really...but he still had a gut full of bile over being used and still not being able to reconcile Mulder's kindness and Scully's support despite her distrust with the thoughts of what he'd done to them...or not done for them. He hadn't seen either one of them since he was released from St. Katherine's and went down to Maryland.

He'd kept track of them though. Mulder leaving the Bureau at last to write and teach. Scully staying on, working in VCS at first but currently assigned, just before her sabbatical, to Quantico, teaching pathology. He watched the news reports...the additional testimony before Congress. Men from the Congressional investigative committee came down to Maryland and got his deposition but he was never asked to testify. There were other men who knew far more than he did about this operation. He was deemed unimportant enough not to bother with in this instance. He hadn't complained about that idea either. By that time he hadn't wanted any more fucking publicity. Seeing his face plastered all over every major newspaper as someone who might be dirty...'the where there's smoke there's fire theory'...so to speak...well, that had been bad enough. Mulder's countering interviews had caused that to finely die down however. After that he preferred to avoid the limelight as much as possible.

Sometimes though...sometimes he missed it all...hell that wasn't quite right...sometimes he missed them...well...more specifically one of them...he slammed his mind down on that thought. No...he didn't want to go there...not now. Maybe not ever again. He felt his hand clench on the coffee mug and consciously shoved the thought back down deep where he preferred to have it stay buried in the other wasted opportunities of his life.

He turned instead to his life after he'd left the FBI. He'd drifted for a while after his 'retirement'. He'd been at a loss as to what to do with himself. All those years of breaking his back for J. Edgar Hoover, working long hours, stress...when it was all removed he still felt lost. Worthless without the validation of a job to make him a man. Yeah, even his self-worth as a man was called into question when he didn't have an office to go to every day. Even though the job gave him acid indigestion as well as a headache he still couldn't quite cope with its absence.

Money wasn't a problem. He had money in savings. His family had money too and living expenses had never been an issue. He decided to make a clean break with DC...take some time off and get his head together. He grew a beard, just a close shaven jawline coverage, mustache and goatee to go with it. It had come in salt and pepper. Once in a while he wore contacts. It probably made him look older but so much the better. Yeah, he knew he was disguising his appearance. But at first he was just so blasted sick of getting attention when he'd go anywhere. So, he dressed down and with the beard and contacts he started to pass unnoticed more. And gradually...the notoriety died down. The public had a short memory. His 15 minutes of infamy were over.

He'd given up the lease on his apartment in the Viva Towers and moved into the family vacation home in Judge's Point, Maryland, for a while. But that had become old fast. His mother had come down there a lot because she adored 'The Point' and the arts community around there. He and Esther had a love/hate relationship going. The repeated close proximity definitely brought out more of the hate end of the equation with her. He was just beginning to think about finding another place to reside when he received the near desperate phone call from Nancy Creed.

Harlan had fallen from the loft in the barn and broken some ribs and his right leg. He'd undergone surgery in the nearby Harrisburg Hospital to insert pins in the leg. His prognosis was good though, despite a minor infection which was going to keep him in the hospital a bit longer than usual. The doctors were optimistic that he'd regain full use of the leg, however. But he was going to be hospitalized for a while and after he got the cast off he'd need physical therapy anyway to regain full mobility.

Nancy was managing...but she thought an extra set of hands on the farm would help. Their closest neighbors pitched in a bit but they had their own farm to run. Harlan's 16 year old nephew was staying with them for the summer and he was a Godsend but at 16 not quite capable of doing all the work of an adult. She just needed someone she could trust to lend a hand. She'd asked him if there was any possible way that Skinner could come down. He would only have to stay until Harlan's brother and his wife could arrange to come back East from California. He'd been on the highway to Lyons, Pennsylvania, the next morning.

Skinner had been at Creed Farm taking care of the 50 head of Angus beef cattle and the corn, wheat, hay and sorghum crops for three weeks and found he was loving it. In another few weeks Harold, Harlan's brother, and his wife Lisa should be able to come out and help Nancy. Harold and Lisa would stay as long as they could and after they had to leave, Nancy'd hire a couple of extra hands from the locals until Harlan was up and around. Skinner figured he'd stay on and continue to help too. One extra set of hands would be one less Nancy would have to hire and pay. Besides...he liked it here. He was accepted into the fold like another family member and he was starting to be accepted into the small community of Lyons as well despite his suspicion that a few people realized he was 'The' Walter Skinner of post 'ET-invasion' fame. He assumed their attitude was 'live and let live' if they did recognize him. At least he assumed that was the case because no one had confronted him about his past and for that he was grateful.

He, Nancy and Harlan's nephew, Kevin were managing fairly well. Even the 10 year old twins were pitching in by taking care of the 20 chickens the Creeds raised and weeding the gardens where the family grew their own vegetables as well. So, things were working out. He was actually beginning to feel productive again...alive...and it was a good feeling. Some of the pain associated with his past was receding. He didn't think it would ever totally disappear but at least here he could forget about it once in a while. He was even considering settling in Lyons. Yeah, he could see himself doing a little homesteading he thought with another small smile. All those years helping his mother's Uncle Ezra on his farm in Chester County had helped after all he thought with some irony. It made things easier in this situation at Creed Farm and it would make living out here something more than just a pipe dream. He remembered being a little annoyed by Ezra's hard farmwork ethic when he was in his teens. But now he was grateful for it for sure.

Just as he was tipping his head back, placing the mug to his lips to finish his coffee, Nancy Creed came out onto the porch, in the comfortable sweats she often threw on in the morning. Skinner downed the coffee and lowered the mug as she came up beside him. He felt her pat him on the back. He turned a little to the side as she stood next to him watching the sun.

"Good morning," he said, smiling at her.

She smiled back.

"It certainly looks like it. It'll be a hot one though," she replied, yawning a little. "I hope we get that rain they say we're supposed to get on Tuesday night."

"It's going to be as hot today as yesterday at least. Rain to break the heat would be good," Skinner agreed. "I got the water troughs filled and feed down," he added.

"Oh...thank you," she replied, gratitude in her voice.

"No problem," Skinner answered with a quick nod at her.

Nancy Creed was a striking woman. Just Harlan's type Skinner had thought when he introduced her to him years ago. Tall and dark, with piercing, intelligent blue eyes. Those blue eyes in contrast with her black hair were her most striking feature. Harlan had always said he was a sucker for a blue eyed, black-haired woman and Nancy had captivated him that way from the get-go. But he also knew she had so much more to offer. Oh she had a temper...which Harlan kind of liked to be honest. She also had a lively mind, innate compassion and even a good sense of humor...if a somewhat acerbic one. But even that Harlan and Skinner too for that matter could relate to. The term 'salt of the Earth' came to mind when you thought of Nancy Creed. She was a fantastic match for Harlan. She'd certainly made Skinner feel human again. She'd been very kind to him. Skinner nodded in agreement with her comment.

"Would you want us to lay in some extra salt blocks in that south field?" he asked, scratching at his T-shirt clad chest.

"Sure. When we get back from church that might be a good idea," she replied. "I'll help you two," she added, touching his arm lightly. "You know, Walter...I can't thank you enough for..." she started to thank him again but he made a noise in his throat and she stopped speaking.

"Nancy...there's no need to thank me again. Really. It's a pleasure. You and Harlan have been good friends to me. I wouldn't have hesitated to help you out," he replied, clearing his throat. He was a little embarrassed at the depth of his emotions over how much he did feel they'd given him here on the farm. How he thought in reality they were salvaging his life as much as he was salvaging their family business.

"Well...I'm glad you're here," she replied quietly, removing her hand and returning to looking out over the landscape.

Skinner nodded.

"I'm glad to be here," he coughed.

They were silent for a few moments and then Skinner spoke again.

"Kevin up yet?" he asked, glancing back into the house.

"I'm letting him sleep in a little. I think he's a little tired after last night," she chuckled in reply.

Skinner's mouth twitched into a wry grin. Kevin had been out on a 'date' last night. A hay ride that was organized for some of the local kids by the local Shriners. Kevin had met a girl he really liked when he first got to Lyons in May...and they ended up talking for hours during the hay ride. At least he said they were just talking. Nancy had pretty much read him the riot act when he'd walked into the house at midnight. She'd been worried sick and just about to call the sheriff on him. He had a curfew of 10 PM and he was two hours in violation of it. The only thing that had kept Nancy from really lowering the boom was that the infraction was a first offense. However, Skinner figured Kevin had gotten the message.

Later on when he'd been going to bed himself Kevin had called him into his room and asked Skinner if he thought Nancy was really pissed at him. He said he really had just lost track of time because Carolyn was the first girl he'd been able to just talk to without...well feeling like a dork he'd admitted, reddening with embarrassment. She was just easy to be around he said. The kid was clearly shy around girls and Skinner got the idea that Kevin had spent an innocent evening with the young woman.

From what Skinner had seen of Kevin Creed he'd had a good upbringing. Skinner believed that he hadn't been trying to get in the girl's pants. He assured Kevin that he thought Nancy had just been upset that he'd been in an accident or come to some other harm. He also said he'd talk to her and explain that everything was on the up and up. He gave the kid a gentle lecture about respecting rules, respecting women too...the usual conversation you have when you want a young guy to keep his zipper up. Kevin picked up on it and it was obvious he'd heard the word before and agreed with it. So, Skinner had let that bit drop. He thanked Skinner, vastly relieved and Skinner sensed he'd made a friend in Kevin Creed. The kid was different...perceptive and a little more mature for his age. Skinner knew the teen was in an accelerated program at school so he was intelligent as well. He really liked Kevin so it was a nice feeling to know he could talk to him and maybe help him in this situation.

"You know, Nancy...I think that was all innocent last night. I had a talk with Kevin after you went to bed. I don't think he was uh...trying to take advantage of that young woman," he replied, remembering his promise to Kevin to talk to Nancy.

"Oh I figured that was the case. He's a good boy...Harold and Lisa have raised him properly. I guess I was more worried something else might have happened to him. An accident or...well, you know...there are creeps all over. God...you probably know what I'm talking about there," she replied looking at him, her brow furrowing.

Skinner knew all too well what dangers were out there for anyone. The saving of mankind from alien invasion hadn't changed the pattern of 'mundane' crime as far as Skinner could see. There was still robbery, rape and murder unfortunately...and the FBI was still going strong and needed more than ever.

"Yeah, I think you were in your rights to call him on the carpet for being late," he replied.

"Well...I'll lay on the charm a little today...maybe suggest he invite Carolyn Barker to dinner. She is a sweet girl. I think she's planning on being a vet," Nancy answered with a grin.

"I think he'll like the dinner idea," Skinner chuckled. "Hey...and as I recall... breakfast is on me this morning," he added as Nancy's stomach growled loudly. Nancy laughed musically.

"And it sounds like I'm ready for it," she replied.

"Then, after you, madam," Skinner answered, bowing with a flourish and gesturing towards the back door. Nancy laughed again and preceded him back into the house.

xXx

Everyone woke in time for Skinner's breakfast of pancakes and bacon. Kevin stared at him like he was from another planet as he stood at the stove in Nancy's apron.

"Not a word," he told the tall, lanky grinning 16 year old as he slid into his chair at the table. The kid was dressed in a suit. Skinner had to give him credit for dressing for church...even if he was dressed to impress Carolyn Barker in case he saw her in town.

He hadn't been able to keep the twins from giggling when they saw him.

"Uncle Walter, you look lovely this morning," Harlan Jr. had snorted out as Mandy punched him in the arm. "Hey...what did I say that was so wrong?" he yelped at her.

"He looks handsome you dope...men are handsome," she stated matter-of-factly, taking her seat next to her dark-haired brother. The two of them had Nancy's coloring...dark hair and blue eyes. They were going to have Harlan and Nancy's height too. Tall for their age now, they had freckles too...something that was a bit of a family joke since neither Harlan or Nancy sported those. Of course Nancy's mother had been Irish and freckled all over so it wasn't unusual that the twins would be throwbacks to their maternal grandmother.

"Thank you, Mandy," Skinner rumbled as he removed the apron and hung it up. "Clothes do make the man as the old saying goes," he joked. Nancy came in, dressed in an attractive summer print dress.

"And the woman," she added, doing a brief twirl.

"Wow, Mom...you look smokin'," Harlan Jr. exclaimed as Nancy took her seat.

"Mom's beautiful," Mandy added as Skinner brought the plates of bacon and pancakes over to the table. He placed both in the center and took his seat at the opposite end of the table.

"You look great, Aunt Nancy," Kevin chimed in. Nancy smiled and everyone seemed to look at Skinner at once. He raised an eyebrow in theatrical hesitation, trying to suppress a grin. Mandy gave him a dirty look.

"Don't you think she looks pretty?" she queried, affronted.

"I think she looks spectacular," Skinner answered with a chuckle at her scrunched up face. "I think your dad's a very lucky man," he added magnanimously.

"Why thank you, Walter...I'm very flattered," Nancy replied, inclining her head and smiling at him.

Amanda smiled at him then, and satisfied that he'd redeemed himself, reached over and helped herself to some pancakes. Everyone took that as a signal to dig in. They busied themselves with getting pancakes, bacon, butter and syrup onto their plates. Milk and juice was poured from cartons, more coffee from the pot for the adults and Kevin. One by one they all lifted their utensils and started to eat. Then...Harlan Jr. piped up again and everyone stopped dead at his words.

"Did you ever go out with my mom when she was younger?" he chirped, chewing on a piece of bacon.

"Harlan...that...what a rude question," Nancy blustered, reddening slightly and looking up at Skinner.

Skinner swallowed the piece of pancake he'd been chewing very slowly to avoid choking on it. Kevin was silent but obviously a little embarrassed as well. Amanda was oblivious, content to pour additional syrup on her pancakes.

Skinner, finally satisfied that he wasn't going to need the Heimlich maneuver, prepared to answer. It wasn't like there would be a problem responding. He didn't have any romantic feelings for Nancy Creed. He liked her a great deal, always had...but she had just never attracted him that way for some reason. Not the right spark. Besides...he met her only after she and Harlan were a serious item so even if she had interested him he would have never gone there. Now there was no question...this was Harlan's wife and his friend, nothing more. But the question had startled him because it had brought back memories of Sharon and the mistakes he'd made there as well as memories of the other woman he'd rather not think about right now. He leaned forward a little and spoke to Harlan Jr.

"Har...no...I never dated your mother. When I met her she was already in love with your dad and I could see that and respected it," he explained. And then before he thought about his next words, he said, "Besides...she's not really my type." He regretted it the moment he said it. Christ...what the hell made him say that?

Nancy coughed at that one and Skinner didn't dare look at her. He was way too chagrined to think about it. Kevin ducked his head and suddenly became incredibly interested in his pancakes.

"Oh...well that's ok then," Har replied and then Skinner watched as the wheels turned in the inquisitive boy's mind and dreaded what he was going to say.

"What is your type, Uncle Walter?" he asked guilelessly.

"Har...I think that's enough. Uncle Walter wants to eat his breakfast," Nancy prompted from the other end of the table. Skinner finally looked up at her and saw the understanding in her eyes. Before he could speak however Mandy finally added her opinion.

"Shut up, Har...Uncle Walter was married you know...he..."

"That's enough," Nancy interrupted but Harlan Jr. was determined to have the last word. Skinner just sat there, torn between whether he should laugh or smack his head against the table as the twins did the typical kid thing of discussing embarrassing or touchy subjects as if they were run of the mill every day common occurrences.

"You shut up...I think Uncle Walter likes redheads...that lady on the TV..." he began.

Kevin finally spoke and his words stopped the rest of Har's comment before he could get it out.

"Harlan...put a cork in it. This is rude. People...people don't talk about this kind of stuff. It's Walter's private business. Drop it. Eat up or Walter won't have time to clean up for church," he interjected, finishing his pancakes.

Harlan's face fell into a very contrite expression then. He looked up to Kevin...idolized him in fact, and the older boy's castigation laid him low immediately. Amanda lost interest as soon as Harlan stopped debating with her and tucked into her food again. Skinner breathed a sigh of relief and made a mental note to thank Kevin later in some way. Since Kevin had his driver's license maybe he'd offer to loan the kid his car if he wanted to take his new girlfriend to the movies. He'd give it some thought.

"Yes...I think Kevin is exactly right. That's a very mature way of looking at it. Thank you," Nancy nodded at the teen. Skinner could see Kevin straighten up and swell a little in pride at Nancy's compliment. Point for Nancy, he thought. She really was a quality person. Nancy turned her attention towards her twins and her blue eyes flashed in anger. "Now, Harlan, Mandy, you too...both of you apologize to your Uncle Walter. That 'was' rude. We need to respect people's privacy," she reiterated.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Walter," Harlan told Skinner, his voice sincere.

"I'm sorry too," Mandy replied as well.

"Apology accepted," Skinner replied. "And Kevin was right...I'd better get myself in gear here and shower and change," he added with a bemused shake of his head. "Would you excuse me?" he added as he wiped at his mustache and goatee to get the syrup off. Then he placed his napkin next to his plate and rose.

"All right, we'll clean up," Nancy replied looking with some annoyance from Skinner's half finished meal and from Harlan Jr. to Amanda.

As Skinner was heading down the hall to the guest bedroom to retrieve his robe and some fresh underwear, he could hear Nancy quietly giving Harlan Jr. and Amanda a piece of her mind.

Later when he was tying his tie in the bedroom there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Are you decent?" Nancy asked outside.

"Sure, come on in," he answered, giving the tie one last check in the dresser mirror. He'd trimmed his beard and for the first time in a while he thought he looked pretty damned good. Too bad there wasn't anyone for him to impress he thought wistfully.

He turned as Nancy entered and stood in the doorway. Skinner could hear the twins laughing and horsing around outside and Kevin's booming deeper laugh as well. So, all must be right with the world again he thought with an inward smile of satisfaction. He tuned them out and focused on Nancy.

"I'm really sorry, Walter," she began. "I...I don't know what came over Har," she added, gesturing with her hand. She crossed her arms and waited for him to answer.

He shrugged and avoided her eyes. They were getting into risky territory here. He wasn't eager to pursue the subject.

"It's all right. He's just inquisitive. Kids pick up on all kinds of things and run with them when they want more information. They can really ferret stuff out when they want to pick up knowledge on a subject. They're like sponges when it comes down to it...that was one of my mother's expressions anyway...'a child can absorb knowledge like a sponge'. I tend to agree with it," he replied, shifting from one foot to another.

She was silent for a moment and when she didn't answer, Skinner looked up at her. Nancy had a soft expression on her face, one of compassion again but it was also mixed with one of expectation. Like she expected him to vent his feelings to her because she thought it would make him feel better. Skinner ran his hand over his mouth. When he lowered it he sighed and gave her his best AD Skinner blank look.

"Ok...look...it's none of my business," Nancy said, straightening with just a touch of annoyance in her voice.

Skinner's ire rose up for a moment at her tone but he guessed he could understand it. He'd been somewhat uncommunicative as per his usual MO...and somewhat...tense over Scully's recent appearances on TV in connection with her book tour. He probably wasn't easy to live with at times.

But he was still half tempted to just let her go and not say anything. It wasn't easy to discuss his innermost thoughts with anyone.

"Nancy, I don't want to burden you with my problems," he began as a deflection.

Nancy set her jaw stubbornly but when she spoke her voice was as even as she could make it.

"Walter...I know it's not easy for men to discuss their problems...their emotions or feelings. Harlan's not any different that way, although he's a lot better than he used to be about it. If you hold it all in...it can't be good for you. I don't like to see anyone in pain," Nancy replied quietly.

"I can appreciate that," Skinner whispered, trying to still forestall talking about the situation.

"Then is it me? Because I'm a woman?"

He considered it.

"Partly, I suppose. It doesn't make it any more easy," he answered honestly.

"Well then when you go to Harrisburg to see Harlan are you going to discuss this with him? Ask him to lend an ear?" Nancy asked, her eyebrows raised.

Skinner gave her a pained expression.

"Probably not," he answered ruefully.

"Well then," Nancy replied with a gesture of her hand. She leaned back, watched and waited.

Oh hell, Skinner thought. Even though he really didn't want to discuss this he did feel she deserved some kind of explanation. The only problem was he wasn't sure now was the time to give it. He wasn't sure he was ready to give it more to the point. He had to say something though so he spoke just as Nancy looked like she was going to take her leave again. When he did speak his words made his decision to be forthcoming for him before he even realized they would.

"I guess I was pretty obvious the other night...even your daughter picked up on it," he replied, stopping her before she could go.

She turned back to him her eyebrow elevated again.

"Well...I take it you don't want to talk about it right now," she replied carefully.

"Nancy...it's complicated. When I had that reaction the other night during the news..."

"You mean staring at the TV like a kicked dog or that look you had like someone who's lost their best friend...or someone they care for very much?"

"Shit..." he mumbled, running his hand over his scalp. Yeah...he guessed it had been obvious.

"Look, Walter. Even Amanda noticed that and when you talked about Scully

your whole voice...your face was different. I think we all noticed it...only Amanda..."

"Out of the mouths of babes..." Skinner sighed, going to sit on the bed for a moment. He ran his hand over his chin hair.

Nancy came into the room then and sat down in the straight backed chair that faced Skinner's perch on the edge of the bed. She studied him.

"She was one of your agents...a subordinate, right?" she began, fishing at the truth.

"Yes, she's still an agent...she's on a leave of absence for this book tour thing. And like I said our past relationship is...complicated," he replied lowering his hand and clasping both hands together in front of him. He stared down at his callused fingers and mused how fast the new calluses were blending in with the one on his trigger finger.

"More than a half hour's worth of complicated?" she asked, glancing at the alarm clock on the night stand. Skinner realized they had to leave for church. A half hour wasn't enough time at all...he wasn't sure if there was enough time at all... ever, he thought dismally.

"A lot longer than a half hour," he replied quietly.

They were silent for a moment and then Nancy straightened and got up.

"All right, but look...I'm here if you want to discuss it, Walter. Don't...don't let it eat away at you...all right. Promise?" she admonished him.

He looked up at her and gave her a weak smile.

"Duly noted. I promise," he replied.

She gave him a matter-of-fact nod and left him to compose himself so they could head into town for church.

xXx

"It was nice to see you here again, Mr. Skinner. I guess we should welcome you officially to St. Pat's," Father McCormick shook Skinner's hand and smiled as they exited the white clapboard church in downtown Lyons.

"Thank you, Father. I appreciate you all making me feel so welcome," he replied graciously. He shook the priest's wrinkled hand and smiled as he did.

The priest smiled wider and then released Skinner's hand. The twins had already paid their respects to the priest and gone down the church steps. Kevin had followed them after he'd taken his leave of Father McCormick. The priest now turned to Nancy as she finished talking to one of the other congregation members.

"And how is Harlan, Nancy?" the priest asked solicitously. I know having him in Harrisburg has to be terribly stressful. If you need to talk...you know I'm always here. And I do hope you'll send him my regards. Tell him I'm coming to see him again next week," he told her. Nancy towered over the diminutive, elderly priest.

"Thank you, Father. I'll tell him. I'm going into Harrisburg tomorrow to see him as a matter-of-fact. When I called him he did say to tell you that Father O'Neill at St. Anne's sends his regards," she replied, taking his hands in hers.

"Thank you. I haven't seen Dan in a coon's age. I should get together with him when I go up there too. I haven't beaten him in chess in a while," Father McCormick replied, chuckling.

Skinner moved out of earshot to give Nancy some privacy with the priest. The last thing he heard the priest say clearly was that he hoped Nancy and her clan could attend the Parish fair next weekend. Nancy said they'd try and then Skinner was out of earshot. Nancy and 'her clan', including Walter Skinner, were the last of the congregation to leave the small Catholic church and the priest seemed to want to spend a few minutes with Nancy to find out how she was doing.

He watched Kevin walk the twins to Nancy's SUV. His black, 1965 Plymouth Barracuda sat next to it. He didn't have the bu-car anymore of course. He also didn't have his Olds Intrigue. He'd sold it outright as part of the old memories he'd left behind. He'd restored the Plymouth muscle car years ago and had it in storage at Judge's Point. For now it was his only car. It ran like a top and he loved tinkering with it to keep it that way. Sure it guzzled gas...but hell...he was attached to the damn thing. No...they didn't make cars like that anymore. If he needed additional transportation he might buy a pickup or an SUV. But for now...the Plymouth would do. He smiled again when he thought what Kevin's face would look like when he handed him the keys.

As he was standing at the foot of the church steps contemplating Harlan and Kevin wrestling a little next to the Ford Explorer, a voice interrupted his thoughts. It was Amanda.

"Uncle Walter," she piped up from near his elbow.

"Yes, Mandy?" he asked turning towards her. His eyes met the eyes of a tall blonde woman. He blinked, temporarily caught off guard then he noticed Amanda standing at the woman's side.

"Uncle Walter...this was my teacher this year, Ms. Underwood. She wanted to meet you," Amanda replied. "Peggy Underwood...Walter Skinner," she added with almost comic formality and then she scampered down the steps to throw herself at her brother and Kevin where they were playfully wrestling.

Peggy Underwood gave a flustered laugh and Skinner stood there at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry," she told him immediately extending her hand. "I just happened to mention to Amanda that I didn't recognize you when I saw you with Nancy. I was just curious if Nancy had started hiring extra hands. My brother Ray just got out of the army and he's looking for some part time work. I didn't realize you were...is it Nancy's brother? How is Harlan?" she added slightly confused.

Skinner smiled diffidently and extended his hand to shake hers.

"Harlan's doing very well. His prognosis is excellent. And...I'm not Nancy's brother. I'm an old friend of Harlan and Nancy's. From uh...Maryland. I came down when Nancy called after Harlan's accident. I'm just pitching in for a while. Oh...and it is Walter Skinner. I'm pleased to meet you, Ms. Underwood," he replied politely. He waited for the inevitable look of recognition that his name usually brought over a person's face. But...if Peggy Underwood knew who he was she was very good at covering it up. Or...she truly didn't care.

"It's Peg," she smiled. "I'm so glad Harlan's going to be ok. That was an awful mishap. I think it's marvelous you're lending a hand," she added, shaking his hand. "I know Nancy needs the help. I was meaning to stop over too at some point and see if she needed any."

Skinner continued to shake her hand as she babbled on, and on and he was struck with the idea that checking on possible work for her brother wasn't the only reason she'd mentioned him to Amanda. He glanced down as her eyes danced and she shook his hand hard. No wedding ring. He felt something flutter in his guts. A warning siren went off in his head. When she finally released his hand he slowly took it back and stuffed both his hands into his pants pockets. He glanced back up at Nancy where she was finishing up with the priest.

"Well...it was very nice to meet you, Peg," he told the attractive blonde. "I'll make sure I mention to Nancy about your brother," he replied, giving her a parting smile. He didn't tell her to call him Walter. If his suspicions were right he thought it would be better to keep some formality between them.

"Oh, I'll call her, no problem. And it was very nice meeting you...Walter," she bubbled.

Skinner sagged inwardly at her use of his first name and nodded as Nancy came down the steps smiling.

"Peg!" she exclaimed. "I haven't seen you since...my God...was it the last PTA night?"

"I'm afraid so. But I did take that trip to Colorado after school let out. I just got back," she replied, hugging the other woman.

"Oh, that's right. Where is my mind," Nancy sighed, stepping back. "Oh, and I'm sorry...have you met Walter Skinner?" she asked indicating Skinner with a touch on the arm.

"Oh yes...Amanda was kind enough to introduce us," Peg Underwood laughed. "Oh...and Walter told me Harlan's going to be all right. I'm so glad," she added more quietly and very sincerely.

"Thanks, honey," Nancy replied touching her hand and squeezing it. "It's not going to be easy but with the help we should be fine," she replied, glancing with a smile at Skinner.

Peg gave him an appraising look, smiled and replied.

"I would imagine so," the blonde commented.

Skinner remained mute and nodded again trying to figure out a way to excuse himself altogether by that point. He hoped he didn't look as much like he was sucking a lemon as he thought he did.

Nancy looked from Peg to Skinner and back to Peg again. But whatever she was thinking she must have passed off because she smiled at them both.

"I'm very grateful," she replied, taking her hand away from Peg's.

"Listen, Nancy...I have to rush but I want to call you later and get together, ok?" Peg asked smiling.

"I'll be out tomorrow during the day. I'm going to visit Harlan. But I'll be home Tuesday," Nancy replied, her voice light. "I'd love to get together with you."

"All right then...I'll call. Take care now. You too, Walter," Peg replied.

"Thanks...you too," Skinner managed to get out as the blonde turned and headed towards a Ford Focus parked nearby.

Nancy entwined her arm through Skinner's and pulled him off towards Kevin and the twins.

"Don't worry...I'll keep her away from you," she whispered conspiratorially.

"Oh, please," he sighed. "Was it that obvious? I was trying to be polite to the woman."

"To be honest...I don't think Peg noticed one bit. She's a good person but to put it bluntly...she's divorced and I think she's on the hunt for a new husband now. She probably saw quality standing there and gave it a shot," Nancy replied with a chuckle. "Her husband was a bum...she really needs a good man for a change," she added thoughtfully.

"Oh...she'd settle for public enemy number one instead?" Skinner asked acerbically.

Nancy punched him lightly in the gut.

"Hey..." he half laughed, half complained.

"You know I hate to hear you talk like that, Walter. Come on...she thought you were worthy and...a hunk too," Nancy replied, teasing to leaven her words.

Skinner snorted.

"Listen...she said something about her brother looking for work..." he began.

"Ray? He's out of the army?" Nancy asked, wrinkling her brow.

"Yes...is there a problem? I got the idea Ms. Underwood thought she might ask you to employ him."

Nancy got a pensive look on her face.

"Well I guess I could talk to him," she mused. Skinner watched her profile for a moment and when she didn't say anything else he grew silent as well. After a few seconds Nancy straightened her shoulders and spoke.

"So...what's not to like about Peg Underwood?" she asked carefully.

Skinner gave her a resigned shrug.

"Oh...so you're not interested?" Nancy asked as they neared his Barracuda.

He shrugged again as he extricated his arm from hers and reached deeper into his pocket for his car keys.

"We're going to have to talk about this, you know," she whispered. "I don't like seeing you like this...and neither would Harlan. This thing with that woman has been bothering you since you came down here, Walter. I don't like to pry but..." she began.

"I know, Nancy. Look...I understand. Let's...let's talk about it later this evening. Maybe after the kids go to bed," he replied, tilting his chin at the now quiet threesome who were waiting patiently by the SUV. "I'll do my best to explain," he added with a curt nod.

"All right. Later then," Nancy answered and giving him one last pat on the arm, left his side.

xXx

It had been a relatively easy remainder of the day on the farm. After church they'd done a bit of grocery shopping and then gone home. He, Nancy and Kevin had set out the extra salt blocks, driving Nancy's second vehicle, the Ford pickup around the field with the salt blocks hauled in the back. Once that was done they checked over some of the cows that were still going to calve and then made sure the herd had fresh water.

Nancy called Harlan to confirm she was driving into Harrisburg with the twins in the morning and Walter talked to him too. He said he'd come up later in the week and they could shoot the shit then. He thought his wife and kids deserved some time alone with him. Harlan had joked and teased him about being an old man when Skinner let slip he was a little sore from the farmwork. Skinner teased him for being a clumsy ox for falling out of the loft and they both laughed at the usual good-natured banter they would share. The fact that Harlan was giving as good as he got made Skinner feel great. It was a sign he was going to be ok...that he was determined to bounce back and that was a big relief.

After the twins and Kevin talked to him too, the teen took the twins swimming in the large pond on the property. Nancy talked to her husband a bit longer and then hung up.

The rest of the afternoon had been spent in individual pursuits. Nancy wrote some notes for Skinner to ask the vet Monday afternoon when he came to vet the young bulls and then caught up on her e-mail. Skinner dragged out his laptop and did the same. He had a few e-mails, mostly junk but one from his mother and one from his sister. He answered those and sent the replies. Lucky the Creeds had two phone lines he thought at the time. It was Nancy's turn to cook dinner and while she did it, Walter and Kevin went back out and made sure the cattle had clean water and enough feed again. Then they gave the chickens water as well and closed up the chicken yard for the night since the free range chickens seemed to be back in the fenced in area. The coop itself was left open in deference to the hot weather. Then they let the twins enjoy helping Nancy prepare dinner and collected eggs for them.

After dinner the kids watched TV and Skinner, Nancy and Kevin cleaned up in the kitchen. Nancy insisted on an early bedtime for the twins since they'd have to get up early to go to Harrisburg. There was little protest on their part. Both of them were tired from their busy day anyway. So, they washed up, brushed their teeth and went to their respective bedrooms with no argument. Kevin talked on the phone for about an hour with Carolyn Barker and then went to bed in the room next to Skinner's. Skinner guessed Nancy was glad they had thought to build so many bedrooms into the house. The master bedroom was upstairs to afford privacy. The reason there were three bedrooms and a guest room downstairs was...optimism. Harlan had been serious about that family. He hadn't been far off. So, with the younger members of the house off to bed that finally left Nancy and Skinner alone in the living room...and Skinner waiting for the ax to fall.

He didn't find it easy to talk to people about his feelings. He'd never found it easy to talk to women about them at all...not even Sharon. His inability to communicate what was in his heart and mind had been one of the main things responsible for their marriage failing. It had been responsible for things getting royally screwed up with Scully as well. So now as he sat in Nancy and Harlan's living room he couldn't quite fathom how he was going to talk to Nancy Creed either. But he did know one thing. He was sick of not being able to talk to anyone about Scully. Sick of the issue eating his guts up from the inside out.

"Would you like a beer?" Nancy asked as Skinner sat down on the couch. "I could use one I think."

Oh yeah...he could definitely use a beer for this conversation he thought.

"Yes, thanks, that would be great," he replied. She nodded, turned around and went back in the kitchen.

Skinner rocked back against the sofa cushions and closed his eyes for a moment. He counted to ten and when he opened them, Nancy was standing there with his bottle of Leinenkugal's Red. He figured he was halfway ready to talk to her.

"Thanks," he nodded as she proffered the beer in his direction.

"My pleasure," she replied, her voice neutral and her face composed. She took her beer and went to the overstuffed chair across from him, sat down and placed her feet on the hassock in front of it.

"God...my feet are sore tonight. I need this beer," she commented wryly, tipping it up to her lips and taking a healthy swig of the Leinie's. After she swallowed she placed the bottle on the small table next to her and rubbed at her athletic sock clad right foot with both her hands. Skinner made a snort of humorous agreement and took a pull on his bottle as well. After he swallowed he replied.

"High heels?" he queried, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes...I guess if I wore them more often than just to Sunday mass I'd have better luck with the blasted things. But they give my feet fits," she replied, shaking her head in bemused self-deprecation.

"Sharon used to hate them too. To be honest...I think they were something invented by men for...uh...ulterior motives. I don't see the sense in them either," he agreed. "It seems to me they're more torture than fashion," he added in sympathy, cradling his beer between his legs.

"How in the devil do women agents manage in them...or do they wear them at all? I guess I wasn't very observant when we were watching the news the other night," she replied.

Skinner recognized an opening conversational salvo when he heard it. Ok...so here we go, he thought as he took another delaying sip of his beer.

He sat his beer on the coffee table after he let the cool brew flow down his throat. He sat back and crossed one leg over the other, stretching an arm along the couch back.

"I'm not sure how they manage it...most of them wear low heels, however. Scully...Scully didn't seem to have a problem," he replied quietly, staring at a loose thread on the couch cushion.

"Walter...I really hope you don't think I'm intruding...it's just that I don't..." Nancy began.

"No...listen...I know you mean well," he hastened to assure her. "It's just that this isn't going to be easy. You probably realize I'm not the best at...self revelation," he added, his voice tense.

"Well...to be honest...as I said not many men are in my opinion. Harlan wasn't at all at first. He got better at it. All I can tell you is...I'm willing to listen to as much as you want to tell me and help if I can. Sometimes...sometimes just talking about it helps," Nancy replied gently.

Skinner looked away from her intelligent blue eyes again and nodded.

"I need to talk to somebody for God's sake...it's eating me up inside," he grated out, shaking his head.

Nancy waited patiently while he toyed with the string for a few more seconds and then she spoke again.

"Were you lovers?" she asked carefully.

Skinner swallowed and refocused on her.

"We...we were together once...I mean one time. It ended up being for all intents and purposes...a one night stand...and it was a mistake. The circumstances....well this gets complicated," he replied watching her face. She nodded and waited for him to proceed at his own pace. So he took a deep breath and launched into the tale.

"To tell you the truth...I was attracted to her the minute she walked into my office. But...I was going through trying to salvage my marriage and then the divorce...you know. I didn't want to start anything if there was still a chance with Sharon. Adultery wasn't my bag. And also...Scully was a subordinate. I...that's one thing I told myself I'd never do...become involved with an agent assigned to my jurisdiction. But God help me...I had it bad, Nancy...shit...I was like Kevin. I felt like I was 16 again and couldn't control my hormones," he explained, shaking his head ruefully.

Nancy nodded without comment and he continued.

"At any rate, she was assigned to Mulder and the X-Files after he'd been working with them for a while and Mulder had been assigned to me of course. Therefore that meant she was assigned to me for the duration. You...I know you're pretty much up on the significance of the X-Files," he said.

"Yes...what I've seen in the media and what you've told me of course. I know...I know why you did what you did if that's what you're asking. It's not for me to judge you there, Walter. I'm sure you're your harshest judge regarding that whole time period," she replied quietly.

"One of them," he answered. She raised her eyebrows.

"I'll get to that part," he gestured with his hand. Then he reached forward and took up his beer, taking another short pull on it. The bottle went back on the table and he sat up again and resumed speaking. Nancy folded her hands in her lap and left her beer on the table next to her.

"Scully's duties were to debunk Mulder actually...but it didn't turn out that way. Those who wanted to discredit Mulder underestimated her intelligence, loyalty and integrity. She became a convert to Mulder's cause and I suspect...a convert to Mulder also," he began, resting his back against the couch.

"They were involved as well?" Nancy asked, her voice raising a bit in surprise.

"I suspected after a while that was the case, yeah. I thought they were sleeping together but I never had full proof of it. Even if I did it wouldn't have made any difference. It's not expressly against regulations...and besides, they were a hell of a team...one of the highest solve rates at the bureau. Why mess with a good thing was my motto at the time. So, I left them to their own devices...in bed and out I guess," he replied, swiping his hand over his mouth. The beer was mellowing him a little. He must have been more tired than he thought to get a buzz off one beer. But...maybe he just wanted to get it all out now and he was letting the beer carry him along.

Nancy spoke then the confusion evident in her voice.

"Well then if they were an item...uh...did you...have this fling with her before that got going or..." she began.

"No. But it happened during a period when I think they were having some problems. Scully...Scully was trying to settle things in her mind regarding her work...her whole life really...the Bureau...just questioning things in general. There was a bad incident with a case in Philadelphia. Mulder went on vacation and sent her down there on something that turned out to be a dead end. At any rate...she was assaulted by some social misfit...in an incident that was totally unconnected with the case but I got the impression she went out with this guy and it turned into some kind of bizarre date rape scenario," Skinner sighed, looking down at his hands.

"My God," Nancy whispered.

"Yes...it was pretty bleak. At any rate, she and Mulder had a falling out over it I think...something like that anyway...and things were very tense between them. Then...there was this two day symposium in New York City at NYU. It had to do with forensic pathology as part of the violent crime investigation under FBI jurisdiction. An old friend of mine down there asked me to speak at it and if possible he asked me to bring along a pathologist. I asked Scully if she'd attend it with me," he continued, looking up at her again.

"And she...you slept together on this trip?"

"Right. I mean...hell. It was something I'd been wanting since I first met her. We...we had a few drinks. It was just enough to lower every barrier I'd ever put up in my mind against that situation. I guess it did the same for her. When I walked her back to her room...she asked me in for a nightcap and the next thing we knew...we were in bed together..."

"Oh brother," Nancy interjected bluntly.

"Oh yeah," Skinner answered, his ears reddening a little.

"Walter...you were consenting adults...I don't think you can beat yourself up over..."

"That's not it, Nancy...it wasn't that I slept with her...it was that I couldn't make it work. I mean I tried....she tried too really. I wanted it to work between us so badly. Nancy...I love her...I still love her but I did a pretty good job of fucking it up...just like I did with Sharon. My track record just reeks where relationships are concerned I guess. But to be honest...she didn't do much better. I'm not being uncharitable. Neither one of us is prime relationship material for a lot of reasons. The work. Old baggage from our upbringing. But...I think she was a little more up to being with me maybe? Shit...I still don't really know. Our heart to heart communication was so lousy. Maybe we were both at fault in that respect. At any rate, the break-up was rough on her...I know it hurt her..."

"Did you tell her you loved her?" Nancy asked quietly.

"We...not in so many words, no," he replied, the guilt obvious in his voice and posture.

Of course that was the crux of the matter. He had assumed so much when he started with Scully. Assumed that his...what...the fact that he was showing her with his body that he worshipped her that she'd realize somehow that meant he loved her as well? He guessed. At any rate, the "L" word hadn't come out of her mouth either. No...it had been another one of those things that got lost in the lust and then the headlong rush of her quest with Mulder and his work too...and later lost in the distrust. He knew not admitting his love for her was a mistake...and he also thought it was way too late to rectify it.

"Walter...that's...that's unfortunate," Nancy replied, with a sigh.

He nodded and he knew his face was making it clear that the subject wasn't an area he was comfortable to continue discussing. So, Nancy changed the subject slightly.

"So...Mulder was there to pick up the pieces?" Nancy suggested.

"More or less," Skinner answered with some relief in the change of subject despite the ache of the memory. "Scully...Scully got cancer after we broke up...it's a long story but...Mulder found something that put her in remission...which she's still in, thank God. My attempts to help in that area failed miserably however. I...I tried to help her...to find a solution myself and it really fucking backfired on me. Well...that's all water under the bridge really. I never told her I tried to help her though. I asked Mulder not to either. I guess I wanted to...to make a clean break and give them a chance together. Whatever. After that...well, things between Scully and I went back to merely a formal working relationship and her...partnership with Mulder grew even more strong. Then there was one thing after another that bred distrust between us all..." he went on, letting his voice trail off. He ended up shrugging and not knowing what else to say.

"You weren't kidding when you said this was complicated," Nancy sighed, taking her beer in hand again and drinking the rest of it.

"I probably shouldn't be laying it all on you," Skinner replied gruffly, looking away from Nancy and out the window into the summer night. "I'm probably only angsting about it because she's in the news...on that book tour..." he let his voice trail off.

"In Philadelphia," Nancy prompted quietly.

Skinner shifted without answering and continued to stare out the window.

The Central Air wasn't on in the house and the windows in the living room were letting the summer night air blow gently into the room. It was balmy and pleasant. Skinner wondered instantly what Scully might be doing this evening. If she and Mulder were together somewhere...in bed and...Nancy's voice jerked his attention back from an image of Mulder and Scully naked and writhing together in ecstasy.

"You had to talk to someone about it, Walter. Like you said...it was eating you up. I don't mind it at all. I'm just sorry that you and Scully didn't get to work things out. You alluded to the idea she judged you harshly. Do you think your troubled relationship colored her opinion of you?" Nancy asked astutely.

Skinner shrugged and scratched at his chest through his T-shirt.

"I don't like to think she was...she is that petty...but she's only human. Our past had to have affected her and at times I know she judged me harshly. Damn...I deserved it sometimes though...not all the time...but at points...shit, yeah. I think maybe our past relationship affected us both to some degree so I acted like a grade A prick towards her myself more than once. It was like...I don't know...like I expected her to psychically understand me and my motives because I had my cock in her or something..." he replied, feeling his ears reddening. "Hell...sorry...I shouldn't be...that was uh...a little too blunt," he added in chagrin.

Nancy gave him a raised eyebrow.

"Walter...I'm married to Harlan Creed, remember?" she drawled wryly.

He gave her a self-deprecating look.

"Yeah...good point," he demurred. "But in any event...I did betray her and Mulder. I can't gloss that over no matter how much the Congressional hearings absolved me of that wrongdoing. I can't blame her for her mistrust and harsh judgment of me," he rambled. He felt like he was talking in circles now. There wasn't really anything left to say on the matter.

"But you never discussed any of this with her...none of it. You've never thought of calling her in Philadelphia and maybe..." Nancy began, trying to hide her amazement but not quite succeeding.

"We never discussed it at all," Skinner interrupted, not wanting to contemplate Scully's proximity any more than he had to right now. "We...Scully and I never discussed anything important between us very deeply to be honest," Skinner explained, his mouth set in a tight line. "She and I have that in common you see...we're both stiff-necked, stubborn, stoic, by the book..."

"God it sounds like you're still in the Bureau. Or maybe I should say still in the Marines. Like she was a Marine too," Nancy replied tersely, shaking her head.

Skinner gave her a direct, intense look.

"We...all of us were at war, Nancy. You...you have no fucking way of knowing..." he replied, his voice raw with barely held back bitterness.

There was a tense silence between them for a moment and then Nancy straightened her shoulders and collected her beer bottle.

"It seems to me the war's over, Walter. Maybe one of you needs to carry that flag of truce on home, you know?" she replied, rising. Her voice held resigned disappointment. "Thanks for sharing...for explaining things a little. I hope...I hope you can find some closure. I'll see you in the morning," she added, heading briskly off towards the kitchen.

Skinner knew he'd offended her. Thrown her intentions to help him back in her face. He cursed himself inwardly and sat there staring at his beer bottle wondering what made it so hard for him to open up and let himself bleed out in front of anyone. Maybe because he didn't have any blood...any guts left he thought dismally.

When he heard Nancy exit the kitchen he still didn't move. She went around and shut the windows that were open, locked up and turned up the AC. He heard her go into the home office at the back of the house and he thought she was on the phone. Probably talking to Harlan. Sometimes she called him just before bed. He didn't really move until he heard her finally walk upstairs to the Master bedroom. Then he took the beer bottle up, tipped it to his lips and drained it in one long convulsive swig. Finally he got up and took it to the recycling bin in the kitchen.

Later, in the guest bedroom he lay on top of the sheets in his briefs, one hand on his chest, staring at the ceiling as his mind churned the past over and over. He didn't toss and turn...he lay like the dead...his mind racing. It was only 11 PM though. If he could will himself to sleep soon he wouldn't be a total zombie in the morning he thought, desperately determined to do so.

But sleep wouldn't come. He took to staring across the room and out the window into the summer night again. It was so peaceful out here. It had been hard at first to get used to the quiet but now he really enjoyed it...normally it helped him to sleep more peacefully. But not tonight. Tonight he could hear every peeper he thought...even through the closed window.

Once in a while he glanced at the clock to watch the minute hand crawl. At one point he thought he heard a muffled sound from next door. It must be Kevin he thought. He knew the kid's bed was right on the other side of the wall. All that separated them was wood and sheet rock. The bed next door squeaked a little and then it began a rhythmic, steady squeaking. Skinner heard muffled rapid breathing that made him shake his head in bemusement and roll over on his side to give the kid some privacy.

Clearly Kevin was spanking the monkey over there. His suspicions were confirmed in a few moments when he heard the squeaking pick up speed as Kevin's masturbation became more intense. The noise went on like that for several minutes causing Skinner to glance at the clock. Well...this kid was going a little longer than he did when he was that age. 'Atta boy', Kevin, he thought with some amusement.

Skinner remembered how embarrassing it had been to be so quick on the trigger. He lost his virginity at 16 in high school with an older woman...a college junior and God it had been as embarrassing as hell. He was trying to put up a good front...impress her with his worldliness...his experience...like any 16 year old horny, numbskull who was tall and muscular for his age and as cocky as all get out would....and when he got in her, even with the condom, he came after only a few thrusts.

The co-ed had been great about it though because she liked him. Well...he'd been a gentleman with her to be honest. Esther had made sure he was polite and respectful with women when he was growing up. Now he considered them his equals and more than worthy of both. He guessed he had to thank his mother for laying the groundwork there...and this particular young woman for adding to that groundwork.

So, the college sorority woman took pity on him because she was fond of him and showed him a thing or two to help him perform a hell of a lot better later on in his life. But man, it hadn't been a great memory. He probably should have kept his pants zippered up until he was older to be honest.

But he smiled to himself nevertheless because after that one night stand he and the young woman had become friends and he learned a lot more about respecting and enjoying conversation with women from her before she moved on with her life. That was a much better memory than his lamentable performance with her in bed. That good memory kept him smiling as the squeaks next door grew frantic and then a muffled husky moan was cut off abruptly. A few more rapid squeaks that finally slowed came next and then the noise stopped altogether.

Skinner rolled back over and of course he thought of Scully instantly. Oh fuck. Yeah, well it figured. God...he still wanted her. And it wasn't just the sex...he...there was so much more he wanted and needed to be for her...needed and wanted from her too. He knew he loved her...he just wished he could have made it work...make it work. He sighed.

But there was also no denying the sex with her had been fantastic. He had played with the facts a bit when he was talking to Nancy earlier. The part about only being with Scully once. That wasn't quite true. Oh he'd only been intimate with her the one weekend. But...he hadn't elaborated on how many times they'd fucked that weekend during the conference. It hadn't been just the one time. It was like the two of them were making up for lost time as a matter-of-fact.

The conference had run Friday and Saturday. Their dinner date had been fairly early Saturday night. They were going to check out Sunday and drive back. They never made it out of bed until Monday morning and ended up calling in to say they'd been delayed due to car trouble. They'd spent all that time fucking each other's brains out. He'd been sore afterwards and he knew Scully was walking bowlegged on Monday. But the sex had been incendiary. He'd surprised the hell out of himself that at his age he could get it up as soon as he did after each round. And Scully...damn...she'd been insatiable.

As he recalled it all vividly he felt his hand stray to his crotch and he released another exhalation of breath. Oh hell...why not? He might as was well jerk off. If nothing else it might help him fall asleep. Resigned to getting some relief, he worked his briefs down and set them on his stomach to use as a fuck rag. He let his mind wander and it tripped into thinking how long it had been since he'd actually been with a woman.

It had been longer than he wanted to think about. Christ...he'd barely come close, even though there had been that waitress at Pete's Bar in Judge's Point. She'd been...well she'd been a good-hearted woman. Middle-aged with a great bawdy wit and she wasn't uneducated by any means. She'd taken a liking to him and had made it clear she wouldn't be adverse to taking him to bed. Skinner had to admit she was fun to be around. And she didn't seem to give a shit that he was the notorious Walter Skinner...suspected traitor to mankind.

One night he'd gotten a little lit and just decided...what the fuck. She wanted it and so did he. So he stayed on after hours to help her clean up. One thing led to another and with her apartment being upstairs it would have been logical to go up there and bed her. But...he couldn't do it. He couldn't have sex with her and he knew why even then. He frowned for a moment. He couldn't even remember the waitress' name he thought in dismay as he toyed with his cock. Wait, he thought. Maureen. That was it, he nodded...right. Maureen Majors. She'd been all right...but she hadn't been all right for him.

No...he'd been in love with Scully and the possibility of sex with another woman just didn't make it for him at that point. He'd apologized profusely to the luckily understanding Maureen, went back to his room, and did what he was pretty much getting ready to do now. So, he focused on Scully again and pulled his cock up towards his stomach, starting to stroke it as he formed her in his mind's eye. He imagined her and his hand pumped up and down on his swelling flesh, faster and faster. He thrust his hips in time with the sliding motion of his fist, just quick, efficient jerks to get him there as fast as he could. For a moment he dimly realized his bed wasn't squeaking at least, and half chuckled as his breath picked up and he started to pant.

He let thoughts of Scully drift over him...the good moments...the times she'd supported him...the times she'd believed in him...the times he thought maybe she loved him back. He arched his neck, pulling at himself hard, rocking his hips as he concentrated on the pleasurable sensations those images brought to him. His cock stiffened further and a small grunt escaped his lips. He didn't want to last he thought distantly as he grimaced in pleasure. Then his mouth fell open and slack in his arousal and he closed his eyes for a moment and focused on his timing. He wanted to get off as quickly as possible so he could just pass out into what he hoped would be a dreamless oblivion.

He pictured Scully that weekend in New York, glorious, astride his thighs, riding his cock. Her breasts standing up high, nipples hard with arousal as his hands pinched and massaged them. Her hips pumping up and down on his erection just like his hand was pumping up and down on it now.

He craned his head to look at his cock. Almost there he thought, biting his lip as he observed the tight swollen skin of his shaft and the red engorged head from which a few drops of pre-cum were still oozing. He tightened his grip a little and concentrated on rubbing under the glans on the upstroke, hitting the frenulum. "Oh yeah, oh yeah," he mumbled as the pre-cum ceased to flow. The little slit in the end of his cock elongated and his balls started to pull up tight.

"Uh," he gasped, panting hard as he felt his cock swell even further in his hand. A hot, electric jolt rolled out of his groin and he strained up, his back arching off the bed.

At the last, as his muscles started to spasm all over his body and he felt the flush of orgasm spreading on his head, neck and chest, he heard Scully's musical laughter...something he'd only been treated to once in his life...over that weekend in New York...and he came with a raw, choked off sob of desire and loss, cum spurting onto his chest.

xXx

Monday, June 18, 2001. A farm outside Lyons, Pennsylvania.

Skinner winced as the vet brought the EZE Bloodless Castrator between the soon to be 'not a bull's' legs and positioned the spreader bars around the animal's scrotum. The bull stood docilely in the fenced enclosure as the stretched rubber band was worked into perfect position. With a deft flick of the vet's fingers on the release trigger, the rubber band tightened around the base of the scrotum and the metal clip held it in place, successfully cutting off the blood supply to the entire works. Skinner felt like he wanted to hold his legs together as the vet withdrew the castrator and set it aside.

The vet was saying something then but he was distracted and didn't quite catch it.

"What?" he asked. "I'm sorry, Doctor, what did you say?" he repeated a bit red-faced.

Kevin laughed and Skinner shot him a look. He smothered his snickers and pretended to look elsewhere as he steadied the bull's head.

"You can go ahead and use the pine tar," the vet, Bill Wallace, told Skinner.

Then he chuckled. "First time you've seen a castrator in action?" he asked.

"Yes," Skinner replied, shaking his head and giving a small self-deprecating smile despite his discomfort.

"Thought so," the older man nodded, not unsympathetically. "Well if it's any consolation...he's not feeling any pain. The rubber ring and clip are tight enough that the scrotum is numb already. In somewhere between 20 and 40 days it'll just drop off. No blood, no mess and no more baby Angus," he added, reaching for the bottle of Tetanus Toxoid and the large gauge syringe.

Skinner nodded and reached for the pine tar disinfectant. He stuck his gloved hands through the fence and swabbed it on over the bull's balls. It was mostly a precaution just in case as was the shot for tetanus. Better to be safe than sorry.

He placed the pine tar soaked rag over the plastic container at his feet and stepped back to watch as the vet filled the syringe with the vaccine. Once he was ready, Dr. Wallace delivered the toxoid into the castrated bull's rump.

When Skinner had gotten up in the morning he'd been fairly well rested. His heated jerk-off session had had the desired effect and acted as a sedative so he'd gotten enough sleep and wasn't cranky or slow moving at least. After showering and dressing in the ubiquitous white T-shirt, jeans and work boots, he'd headed out with Kevin into the warm, bright summer dawn to feed and water all the animals. Then they'd returned and gone into the kitchen. They'd eaten breakfast in shifts, Skinner and Kevin making their own as Nancy hustled Harlan Jr. and Amanda through theirs so that they'd be ready to leave for Harrisburg.

Things had been a little tense with Nancy, but Skinner tried to smooth it over after breakfast by apologizing for being testy with her at the end of their conversation the night before. She accepted his apology with grace and said she really couldn't stay angry with him for long anyway. She made some noises about him talking to Scully...but they had been mild ones...as if she was willing to concede the issue until Skinner was ready to either discuss it further or take action on the matter. Skinner had nodded and kept his counsel. He knew he really wasn't ready to confront Scully. She let the issue drop and handed him the note she'd written for the vet's visit. It had the numbers of the bull's ear tags on it and a description of exactly what she wanted the vet to do.

Skinner had read it and had struggled for a moment not to show his bemused surprise. This should be very interesting, he thought. Well...it would be a first at least. He and Kevin were to confine the three young bulls, one at a time, in the box vaccination pen and the vet, Doctor Wallace was coming to castrate them. They weren't too large luckily so Skinner had to hope they were manageable. Well hell he'd ended up thinking...he liked a challenge. He was game for it and it would be a learning experience.

So, when Nancy and the twins had left for Harrisburg around 9 AM he and Kevin had started some laundry. His included his cum stained briefs and he didn't ask Kevin's what was contained in his. While the laundry was washing they went out and did some weeding in the gardens. Just before it was time for the vet to arrive they worked one of the bulls into the small vaccination pen. When the vet arrived at 1 PM of what was then a very sultry summer afternoon, they were all waiting for him.

"One more," Kevin prompted as the vet pulled the needle out and disposed of it in his bag.

"I can get this one back out I think," Skinner told the teen as Kevin jumped down off the side of the fence. "Then I'll help you get the other one," he added.

"Sure, Walter," Kevin replied with a grin as he hit the ground. "Think you can handle him?" he added, teasing.

Skinner shook his head in amusement because the kid was clearly getting a kick out of his 'city boy' status...Skinner's time with Uncle Ezra notwithstanding. Kevin had spent lots of time during the summers out here with Harlan and Nancy...sometimes with his folks, sometimes alone. He'd learned a lot. Kevin was a country boy at heart and had been dealing with animals since he was a youngster thanks to Harlan's tutelage.

"Smartass," he replied with a good-natured rumble.

Kevin laughed and Skinner slapped the kid on the back as he went to stand by the vet.

While the young man and the older man stood and watched, Skinner opened the gate that led from the pen into the feedlot, untied the steer's head and gave the animal a slap on the ass. The steer jumped and ran out of the small fenced area into the larger one. Skinner nodded and looked over at Kevin and the vet.

"Ok, let's get the last patient," he quipped.

The last bull had other ideas and was more difficult to load into the small pen. Finally they succeeded in wrestling him inside and Skinner got up on the fence to steady his head because he was still trying to move around despite being tied. As the vet got the castrator ready, Kevin manned the disinfectant.

"Hold him steady, Mr. Skinner," the vet advised as the bull jigged around and stamped his feet. Skinner took a firm grip on the animal's head and looked him in the eye.

"Give it up," he grunted as the bull snorted snot all over his forearm.

He couldn't see very well but he could sense the vet moving around underneath the back of the bull. After a few moments, he stepped away and set the castrator aside again.

Kevin moved forward immediately with a fresh, pine tar soaked rag and swabbed the area in question.

"Not much longer, Mr. Skinner," the vet assured him as Skinner kept the bull immobilized and distracted.

Finally the vet injected the ornery beast and stepped back.

"Let him loose, Walter," Kevin advised and Skinner prepared to untie the bull's head.

It was at that point that the bull decided to play bucking bronco. He humped up like a rodeo bull in the shoot and Skinner was caught hanging onto his head when he did. The steer slammed into the side of the pen, bellowing and snorting and sending Skinner up into the air with a flick of his neck. Before either Kevin or Dr. Wallace could move, Skinner was thrown off the fence, landing on the ground on his back in a pile of manure that the first two bulls had managed to shoot through the fence when they'd been standing in the pen. The wind was knocked out of Skinner and he struggled to sit up, coughing and gasping as Kevin and the vet ran to his side.

"Sit still, sit still," the vet admonished, crouching down. Skinner struggled to get his breath as the vet, ignoring the cow shit on the back of his T-shirt, rubbed between Skinner's shoulder blades.

"Oh man...are you ok, Walter?" Kevin asked, concern in his voice. He squatted next to him as well. "Raise your arms and shake them," he suggested.

Skinner nodded and raised his arms. He breathed through his mouth and gradually he was able to get a breath. The next was easier, and then the next and finally he was breathing normally again. He lowered his arms and the vet took his hand away from Skinner's back.

"Shit," Skinner cursed, glancing down at where he sat.

"I would say that's an accurate analysis," a female voice replied with barely contained amusement.

All three men looked up in astonishment...but especially Walter Skinner. Standing directly in front of them, where they hadn't heard her approach in the confusion, stood Dana Scully, her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised practically to her hairline.

xXx

Skinner stood, naked from the waist up, holding the hose from one of the barn taps, as it sprayed water over his head. His soiled T-shirt was over the top of the fence. His gloves over the shirt. The jeans were a write-off...he'd have to go in and change them too he thought as he looked down at them. He was just thankful he was wearing the contacts. He was sure his glasses would have been utterly destroyed.

Scully stood silently, patiently by as he rinsed manure off the back of his head and arms without looking at her or speaking to her. Dr. Wallace and Kevin were seeing to the last bull, finally getting him out of the pen.

Finally, Skinner was at least rinsed off. He figured he'd have to go in and shower anyway...but at least this way he wouldn't stink to high heavens in front of Scully. And damn it...what in God's name was she doing here, he thought as he glanced over at her where she stood, her face impassive.

When he'd seen her standing over him the first thing he'd thought was that he'd cracked his head and was hallucinating. The second thing he thought was how simply beautiful she looked in her white form fitting T-shirt and black jeans. Her hair shone like copper in the sun and her skin practically glowed in it as well. But she wasn't a concussion vision...she was real. She'd spoken again saying, "Sir?" when he hadn't said anything. Then his first words to her had been, "It's not 'sir' any longer. It hasn't been 'sir' since March of 2000, Scully," and she'd looked down at her feet for a moment while Skinner struggled to his. He hadn't said anything else to her or even excused himself to Dr. Wallace and Kevin. He'd merely clenched his jaw and walked away, heading towards the hose.

Now he was prolonging his ablutions while he tried to think precisely what to say to his unexpected visitor. He felt an almost irrational anger welling up in him. An anger based on being forced once again into a situation not under his direct control. An anger based on being forced into confrontation...at being forced to feel...and show his feelings. He shook the water off like a dog, swiping it through his goatee hair with a quick wipe of his large hand. He stepped to the end of the hose and turned the spigot off with a hard crank of his wrist.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked Scully curtly when he turned around to confront her at last.

She raised an eyebrow again and for a moment she seemed unsure how to answer.

"I didn't leave a forwarding address," Skinner added defiantly, leaning back against the fence, his arms across his chest.

"No, you didn't," she replied her voice that well modulated one she used so often when she was reporting to him. "But I assumed when Mrs. Creed called that you..." she began to explain.

"Nancy called you?" Skinner growled, shock lacing his words. "How in the living God did she get your number?"

Scully's composure cracked then for a moment, clearly flustered she replied.

"Well yes, she did call me. She located me through my agent actually. She said that you..."

Skinner didn't let her get any further.

"I didn't ask her to call you. It wasn't her place to...God damn it. What gave her the right to call you out here?" he blustered, his voice rising.

"Walter..." Scully began again trying to get his attention as she glanced over at Kevin and the vet where they were pretending to try not to listen. Skinner noticed her glance and spoke again, his voice harsh.

"Do you think I give a fuck if they hear me?" he grated out. "Jesus," he shook his head, levering off the fence. He grabbed his T-shirt and gloves. He was in full-blown irate mode now and rather like the bull in the pen a moment ago...there wasn't much that would stop him. He stalked off towards the house.

"Excuse me," he shot back over his shoulder. "I have to go wash off the rest of this shit...and change," he finished not looking back at her.

He didn't see Scully give Kevin and the vet a tight smile before she took off after him. He also didn't see Kevin and the vet packing up the vet's equipment as he was getting ready to leave. All Skinner saw was red as he strode towards the back door.

"Damn it, Walter...I came down here because I was worried about you. Mrs. Creed...Nancy said you were having some depression. I...Walter...come on...oh for God's sake..." Scully badgered him as she struggled to catch up with his long, purposeful strides. She was almost behind him when he slammed onto the back porch. She got the screen door in her face however and fumed outside as he took a moment to toe off his work shoes.

"Well clearly she was mistaken and I have nothing to worry about...you're obviously just like your old self...'sir' or not," she called at him through the door as he looked up and glared at her.

"I didn't ask you to come here," he repeated, turning and heading into the house.

Scully made a disgusted noise behind him and threw the screen door open, running again to catch up as Skinner detoured to toss his T-shirt and gloves into the laundry room. They landed right on top of the washer and Skinner decided not to track any shit into the rest of the house from his filthy jeans. His clean robe was on top of the dryer, folded neatly after their first load. He'd slip that on he thought. Just as he was about to unbuckle his belt, Scully appeared in the laundry room doorway.

"Walter...I realize you didn't ask me to come here, but..." she went on.

He closed his eyes for a moment and she stopped talking. He sighed and opened them.

"Scully...go back to...to Philadelphia, or on to whatever book tour stop is next. I don't have anything to say to you," he replied bitterly. Then he unbuckled his jeans.

"Well what if I have something to say to you?" she retorted, placing her hands on her hips.

He didn't answer.

"Walter...I still...I do care about what happens to you," she replied, her voice filled with annoyance despite her words.

"Really?" he threw back acerbically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she shot back.

He looked up at her and straight into her flashing blue eyes as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.

"Because if you cared anything about me, you'd give me a little privacy right now," he growled.

"God damn it, Walter, you know that's not what..." she protested.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged and then he pulled his pants down. He wasn't wearing any briefs. The cum stained pair had been the last clean pair he had available and they were still in the dryer, wet, since he'd forgotten to start it again before he and Kevin went outside.

To Scully's credit, her eyes only flicked to his cock and balls. She looked back into his eyes and her face reddened however...in embarrassment and anger.

"You bastard," she hissed.

"That's me, baby. But as I recall...you used to like me that way...and more than once in a 24 hour period," he replied intently as she stood rooted to the spot. Her eyes were still flashing like two arcing lasers and Skinner felt raw, primitive arousal slam up out of his crotch and hit his brain like a sledgehammer.

"Fuck you," Scully spat and turned to leave his side.

Skinner deftly stepped out of his jeans and before she'd taken two strides he grabbed her by the arm, pulled her tight to him and crushed his mouth to hers. He kissed her violently, shoving his tongue into her mouth...and she answered in kind, greedily sucking him in, biting down on his lower lip for a moment in the process. He felt Scully's breathless moan into his mouth. The kiss went on for a few heated seconds and then she pulled away and yanked herself out of his embrace. His head rocked back with the force of her slap across his face.

"Go to hell," she shouted at him.

Scully spun on her heels and strode angrily away. Skinner turned, dove for his jeans where they lay on the floor and frantically yanked them on, half lurching forward as Scully's back retreated across the kitchen.

"Scully...Dana..." he barked. "God, that bitch," he cursed under his breath.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he silently swore. He was so fucking confused...and what a subtle way to handle the whole thing. Christ all mighty, he needed to get a life here...big time. What the hell was the matter with him, he railed mentally as he struggled after her. A tiny voice way in the back of his mind spoke up and he almost heard it in his rush to follow her. It said...'What's the matter with you, ya dumb ox? You're in love with her that's what's the matter with you, asshole'. He got the jeans on and ran. She was already out the back door.

Skinner dashed out onto the back porch and slammed back out through the screen porch door as Scully's angry stride took her away from him.

"Scully!" he shouted at her, his voice showing his desperate need for her that he didn't even care if she heard now. He surged ahead, ignoring the fact he was only wearing socks and small pebbles were grinding into the balls of his feet

He glanced to the side when he noticed another figure standing in his peripheral vision. Kevin was standing there, his eyes wide as Skinner stopped for a second. He realized his jeans were barely up and he hadn't zippered them. He was practically flashing the kid. He gave him an irritated look and Kevin held up both his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"None of my business...I'm going to collect eggs," he hastened to explain.

Skinner barely nodded as Kevin hurried away. Thank God the vet was gone flashed through his mind and then he looked to see Scully going around the side of the house to the front.

"Scully!" Skinner shouted again as he ran after her.

Finally he got close enough that she must have realized he wasn't giving up and she turned around to face him. He stopped dead in his tracks in front of her. Her face was a tight mask as she tried to rein in her anger.

"Look...I'm...damn it, I'm sorry, all right?" he blurted out at her, yanking his zipper up.

She looked down as if she was suddenly at a loss as to what to say...or afraid to speak again lest she really say the wrong thing. Skinner squared his shoulders and looked off into the distance at Kevin putting water in the fenced in chicken run, the egg collecting basket over his left arm. He took a deep breath, let it out and spoke.

"It seems to me...this is where we royally screwed this up before, Dana. Not being able to communicate...at least without ending up at loggerheads. Let's...let's start over here, all right? I'm truly sorry. I don't know what the hell came over me," he added quietly, pitching his voice low and conciliatory.

Oh hell he knew what had come over him. A bolt of lust so raw it had almost made him see double was what had come over him. That building on the anger had been too much. He sighed. He had a long way to go before he was up to handling any relationship he thought. Much less a relationship with this woman.

"It seems to me that's where we 'screwed' things up too...wasn't it?," she managed to get out through her tight lips, as she tilted her head at his zipper where his hands still rested.

He pulled his hands away from his cock and then he didn't know what to do with his hands. He let them flop at his sides.

"Don't pretend you were fucking me under protest...I'm not buying it," he retorted, his jaw tight. "Not after that kiss. Or this..." he added, running a finger along the inside of his lower lip and showing her the blood that darkened the pad.

He watched her sag into herself a little and concede that argument. He waited for the next salvo, sucking the blood off his finger. He geared up for whatever came next. He was ready to surrender...but not with his tail between his legs. When he took his finger out of his mouth, she answered him.

"All right...yes...I can't deny we were both thinking with our hormones. I wasn't any different than you there," she admitted, pushing her hair back from her face.

"And as for the communication...that was a two way street too," she added, giving up the field.

Skinner felt himself relax fractionally. He wanted to touch her but knew it was a bad move. Instead he placed his hand on his hip and shifted his weight onto one leg.

"Ok. So...like I said...I'm sorry. Come in the house. I really do have to shower and change. After that...well I hope you don't mind lending a hand until dinner...Kevin and I still have some chores to do," he began quietly in an attempt to smooth things over a little. He still wasn't sure just what he was going to say to her...but he felt compelled to find out if she really meant she still cared about what happened to him. Somewhere in the back of his mind a seed of hope was growing over that eventuality.

"Does this mean I'm invited to dinner?" she asked carefully, her lips showing just a touch of a smile.

Skinner felt his heart melting with a feeling of dismay and elation. He wanted to kick himself again for being so 'easy' in her presence. Damn...he really did have it bad for her he thought. But that thought served to bolster his courage a bit.

"Oh yeah...Nancy will be back by dinnertime. I really want her to know you got here with no problem," he replied wryly, letting his lips twitch a tiny answering smile. "And...seriously...we can talk after that," he added more quietly, capturing her eyes.

She nodded gravely, biting her lower lip a little and then she spoke.

"Listen...please don't fault Nancy. I think she meant well...and actually...she doesn't know I'm here. I told her I'd just give you a call. But..."

"You changed your mind," Skinner interjected, as she stepped past him and headed back to the house. He fell in beside her as she walked around towards the back door.

"Woman's prerogative," she replied, the smirk heavy in her voice.

"Oh since when did you fall back on stereotypical behavior?" he retorted, giving her a raised eyebrow.

"Since you started wearing contacts and growing a new age beard," she quipped back.

"New age?" he sputtered fingering his chin. "Hey...I thought it looked distinguished."

"It felt like getting kissed by a shoe brush," she replied, not looking at him.

He could have gotten angry all over again at her remark, but he didn't. Instead he had an odd feeling he was missing something critical steel over him. The tone in Scully's voice told him that the beard hadn't really been an issue in the kiss at all. The real issue was the fact that she enjoyed it so much. And with that realization he was immediately overtaken with what critical point he was missing. The idea that he had overlooked in the haze of anger and lust that had seized him came crashing right back into his head.

He automatically chastised himself. What in the devil was he thinking? Scully was with Mulder. Christ. That had to be it. He'd practically forced himself on her and she'd responded based on past memory...she was only human. But it had bothered her...offended her deeply. The slap meant she and Mulder were still an item. Son of a bitch...how could he have been so stupid? His heart sank. There probably wasn't any hope after all for him and Scully. She was just here to see if he was ok for old times sake. Maybe he could hope at least that she had forgiven him his earlier betrayal. Maybe the distrust was gone but...that was all. She and Mulder were still an item. Hell...maybe Mulder even suggested she come.

He made a noncommittal sound in his throat and they walked on in silence onto the porch and then into the house.

He turned to her then, his face that stony mask from his old days as an AD that he could still put into place with practiced ease.

"I won't be long, Scully. You're welcome to have a beer...or some iced tea. Both are in the fridge. Glasses in that cabinet," he told her, pointing at the cabinet in question. His voice was clipped and formal again. Scully's brow furrowed a little but she nodded.

"All right. Should I just wait in here for you?" she replied.

"Yes, that would be fine," he answered, nodding. Then he turned and still wearing the jeans this time, headed for the downstairs bathroom.

xXx

When he came out, freshly dressed in clean jeans and a T-shirt, the dryer was going and Kevin Creed was sitting at the kitchen table across from Scully with a glass of iced tea in his hand. She was drinking some iced tea and Kevin was sitting quietly staring at her. Skinner could tell that they may have been talking a little but that Kevin was too shy to continue the conversation much beyond the formalities of name, rank and serial number so to speak.

If he was nervous around Carolyn Barker he would more than likely be petrified at the prospect of talking to an intelligent, professional as well as a beautiful adult woman. A woman who was already a celebrity and likely to become a bigger one with the publication of her first book on her part in the struggle against the aliens. Skinner was a little guilty over acting like a jerk to the kid outside earlier. Kevin was clearly in awe of Scully...but struggling to be friendly and cordial to her as well. He took pity on Kevin and came over and slapped him on the back.

"I see you met the real helping hand around here," he smiled at Kevin as the teen jumped slightly.

"Yes, Kevin introduced himself. He was just telling me about how well you conducted yourself around those bulls...until the end at least," Scully replied smiling at Kevin.

Skinner arched an eyebrow and Kevin swallowed nervously. Skinner got an additional warm liking for the young guy. He had obviously been trying to paint a favorable picture of Walter Skinner for Scully. Playing up his friend a little in front of the woman he figured Skinner was carrying the torch for. He shook his head and gave Kevin another smile.

"I should have let you take the head on that last one. I probably scared the thing shitless when he got a good look at me," Skinner chuckled.

"No way, Walter. I probably would have gone sailing twice as far and broken something important," Kevin insisted, shaking his head. "Like my guitar wrist," he added with a grin. "I...uh...play in a band back home," he mumbled, looking at Scully.

"Really...what type of music do you play?" Scully asked, interested. She placed her iced tea back down on the table. Skinner left Kevin's side and went to the fridge. He opened it and fished out the pitcher of tea as Kevin answered.

"Mostly alternative stuff...we do a lot of covers right now. Limp Bizkit, Creed, Rob Zombie. But we're trying to write some original music," he replied, warming to the subject. Skinner marveled how less nervous his voice sounded when he talked about something he was more familiar with and enjoyed. Trust Scully to draw the kid out. She had a compassionate way with younger people. He winced a little...better not to go there he thought. He let the thought trail away as he poured himself a glass of iced tea.

"Rob Zombie? Didn't he do Hellbilly Deluxe?" Scully asked with a gentle smile.

"Yes! You listen to Rob Zombie?" Kevin replied somewhat stunned.

Skinner put the pitcher back in the fridge and walked over to the table. He already knew what Scully's answer would be and when he stood in back of Kevin's chair looking over him and down into her face he tried to bury the hurt that was threatening to show in his face.

"No...I don't listen to him but I have a friend who can sing all of his lyrics...very off key," she chuckled. "I'm sure you're much better," she added thoughtfully as she reached again for her glass.

Kevin was about to answer when Skinner interrupted him. It was probably time to send the kid back to work. He had to go as well. They still needed to till and fertilize the field that was going to be seeded with winter wheat later. Besides...he didn't really want to hear any other Mulder moments if he didn't have to do it.

"Say, Kevin, I'm sorry to interrupt but we'd better get out to that South field. We need to get that done before we start dinner," he interjected evenly.

Kevin looked up at him.

"Oh, sure. Yeah. We'd better get that done. Ok, I'll meet you outside. You want me to wait before we load the fertilizer?"

"Yes, I'll be there directly," he assured the teen as Kevin rose from the table.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Agent Scully. I'm glad you're staying for dinner. Walter and I are making spaghetti," he told Scully as he pushed his chair back beneath the tabletop.

"It was nice meeting you too. Maybe you can tell me more about your band and your music," she added.

"Sure," he replied, blushing a little. "Later, then," he said, addressing them both as he walked away and exited the house.

"He's not what I'd call a typical West Coast teenager I guess," Scully murmured as Kevin let the screen door shut with a slight bang.

"He wasn't always a Californian. His father runs a construction company out there, but the family used to live here. They moved when he was around nine or so I gather. I think they kept a lot of the rural Pennsylvania mores intact in raising him however," Skinner answered quietly.

"Evidently. He's very sweet," she smiled wistfully, putting her iced tea down again.

Skinner chuckled.

"Don't tell him that...he's struggling enough with his manhood," he suggested wryly.

"Shy," she stated, nodding.

"Painfully...with women, and celebrities..." Skinner rumbled, teasing Scully a bit.

She rolled her eyes slightly.

"Please. My agent insisted on this tour for the book. I'd much prefer to leave the book tours and celebrity thing to Mulder...you know how I..." she began to explain. He held up the hand that wasn't holding the glass.

"Scully...I was just giving you the business. I don't begrudge either one of you the limelight. You have to do what you have to do, and you both earned it anyway...it's high time people realized the risks the two of you took," he replied fairly.

Scully shrugged a little and nodded but didn't reply.

Skinner moved his glass to his lips. He drained the iced tea and when he lowered the glass he caught Scully looking at him. When their eyes met hers slid away and he cleared his throat.

"Thanks for starting the dryer," he told her.

"You assumed it was me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He raised an eyebrow back as he set the glass down on the table.

"Kevin forgot to turn it on before and so did I. Besides...under the circumstances..." he let his voice fade as he saw the awareness dawning in her face.

She chuckled.

"Right," she replied, giving him a rueful look.

They were silent for a moment. God...she was so lovely, he thought as he stared at her. He wished he could just tell her everything right now...tell her he loved her and let the pieces fall where they may. He knew she'd probably say she didn't feel about him that way and loved Mulder instead. But at least he'd have it off his chest, have her rejection and that would be closure. He could move on. But...he really did want to get the field tilled before Nancy and the twins got home.

"Scully...I meant that about talking later...but right now I really have to get out to that tractor," he explained with a regretful tone.

"No...that's fine. I understand. What...how can I help?" she asked, businesslike at once.

"Do you know anything about weeds?" he asked.

"Weeds? What kind?"

"Garden weeds. We didn't get the last garden weeded, that large one next to the side of the house. I was wondering if you could help Kevin weed that while I till the field," he replied, smiling at her a little.

She gave him a shy smile back.

"My mother tried to plant a garden anytime my father was stationed for any length of time somewhere. So...I know all about weeding a garden...most assuredly," she replied.

"Good deal. I can give you some tools, a hat, knee pads and gloves from the shed. Let's do it, Agent Scully," he answered, with a curt nod.

"Lead on, Mr. Skinner," she replied, rising from the chair. Skinner rose as well, they collected their glasses, placed them in the dishwasher and left the house.

xXx

Skinner walked down the hallway towards the bathroom again, this time to take a piss before he helped Kevin make dinner. Scully had volunteered to lend a hand as well so they were going to have a salad courtesy of her along with the spaghetti. There was some early lettuce from the garden to use in the salad. It was shaping up to be a good meal. Skinner smiled to himself. It might be shaping up into an enjoyable evening...if he'd let it. At any rate, thank God, for air conditioned tractor cabs he thought, otherwise he'd be sweaty and dirty again from tilling and fertilizing the field. Instead he was fairly fresh so no repeat shower was necessary. He'd merely wash up a bit.

As he'd come back in from the fields he'd noticed storm clouds coming in from the Southwest. Good, he'd thought, here comes the needed rain. Then his thoughts turned to Nancy and the twins and he hoped they were on the road and got back before the serious weather reached the farm. He and Kevin had brought the herd up into the pens in the large barn in anticipation of the storm being a rough one. The cows with young calves had been put into stalls in the lower part of the smaller barn to keep the calves out of the elements. They'd made sure all the animals had adequate food and water and closed them up for the night.

He glanced at his watch where it peeked out from under the fresh towels and underwear he was carrying from the dryer. God...it was eight o'clock already. It would be getting dark soon...he hoped Nancy and the kids would be back before then. Late dinner too he thought as he neared the bathroom door. Kevin came out.

"Oh...thanks," he said, reaching for a towel to dry his hands. "Agent Scully's in the kitchen," he added, then he gave a self-deprecating grin. "Oh yeah...I guess you knew that," he added.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment. It was obvious the kid wanted to make some other comment regarding Scully but was too reticent to do so. Skinner cleared his throat.

"Listen, Kevin...I know this is awkward. There's a lot of...history between Agent Scully and I...some of it not very pleasant," he began carefully, weighing his words.

"She...she's pretty natural for a celebrity. She's not stuck up or anything. She worked for you, right?" Kevin asked quietly, busying himself with the towel so he didn't have to look Skinner in the eyes.

"Well...she's not too comfortable with the celebrity status so maybe that's why she seems so unaffected by it. And yes...she and her partner Fox Mulder were both under my jurisdiction at the Bureau," Skinner answered honestly.

Kevin nodded, scratching at his close cropped, spiky, sandy brown hair for a second. Then he lowered his hand and looked up at Skinner. Skinner marveled that soon Kevin would probably be able to look him in the eye.

"This Mulder guy...did he steal her from you? I mean..." he started to reply and stopped when he saw the look on Skinner's face. "I'm sorry...that's none of my business," he mumbled.

Skinner shook his head in chagrin. He knew he looked fucking dismal for a moment there. The glower probably scared the kid out of his wits.

"Hey...uh...no, it's ok. That's not what happened. Not really. I managed to screw us up on my own actually. Mulder...well Mulder was just there to pick up the pieces," Skinner replied being forthright.

He figured if the kid was mature and thoughtful enough to make an observation like that he was mature enough to handle hearing about his relationship with Scully...at least the bare facts of it.

"Oh. Well...with her being here...you think you can get her back?" he asked in a whisper.

Skinner gave a slight and world weary grin.

"I kind of doubt it. I think she and Mulder are still an item. But I think she still considers me a friend. She came down here to make sure I was all right after your Aunt Nancy called her. I suppose Nancy..." he stopped when he heard footsteps coming out of the kitchen.

"Do you have a larger cutting board, Kevin? I could use a larger one to cut the onions up on I think and I can't seem to locate one," Scully called down the hallway.

"Oh yeah, sure. Just a sec, Agent Scully," he called. "It's in a cabinet, I can show you," he added. She nodded and went back into the kitchen.

"You'd better hustle," Skinner advised, gesturing back over his shoulder with his chin.

"She's really nice, Walter...maybe things will work out. You never know. Maybe she's not really serious about Mulder anymore," Kevin replied as he moved past Skinner.

"The optimism of youth," Skinner rumbled a chuckle.

Kevin grinned as he left Skinner's side and loped down the hallway.

By the time Skinner left the bathroom, zipping up his jeans and adjusting himself in his freshly laundered briefs, a rumble of thunder shook the windows in the house. He adjusted his glasses, having removed his contacts for the night and thought...crap. Here comes the storm and still no Nancy and the twins. Just as he thought that...the phone rang. He took a detour into the living room. When he picked it up he already heard Kevin on the line. He must have picked up the kitchen extension.

"We just heard the thunder," Kevin was saying.

"Nancy?" Walter asked into the receiver. "Are you all right? How's Harlan?" he added.

"Walter? We're in Ramsey. Harlan's doing much better. We're all right too, but the storm is torrential here. We're not coming on tonight. I've checked us into the Budgetel here," she shouted into the phone.

Skinner could hear the boom of thunder loud over her words. It must be one hell of a storm coming.

"Good plan," he called back to her.

"The power's out here, Walter. But the phones are still working. Will you two be all right?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"Oh yeah, we'll be fine," Kevin replied, sounding confident. "We brought the herd up to the barns. Everything should be ok," he added.

"Remember about the generator," Nancy prompted.

"Yes, ma'am," Kevin assured her.

"Yes, don't worry. Now, hang up...it's not safe to be on a phone during an electrical storm," Skinner advised seriously. "We'll see you tomorrow," he reiterated.

He was glad Kevin didn't mention Scully. He wasn't going to say anything either. Her being here was something that could be discussed in the morning when everyone was fresh and they didn't have to worry about power outages or other effects of a violent summer storm. He was going to ask Scully to stay. With the storm coming he didn't think she'd want to risk driving into Lyons to try to get a motel room...at the one tiny motel. Also...he hoped she'd stay on so they could later discuss...well not only her coming down here...but everything else.

"All right. I'll call before we leave the Budgetel," she shouted into the phone again.

"Do you have my cell phone number as well...in case I'm outside?" Skinner shouted back.

"Yes, Walter, I do," Nancy called back.

"Ok, then. Sleep tight. We'll see all three of you in the morning," he replied.

"Good night, Aunt Nancy," Kevin replied as well.

"Good night. Take care. And thanks so much...both of you," Nancy replied and then she severed the connection.

Skinner hung up the phone and headed on into the kitchen.

"I take it we're three for dinner?" Scully asked as he walked through the kitchen door.

"Yes. Nancy checked herself and the twins into the Budgetel in Ramsey. The storm's bad...the power was out there," Skinner replied.

"God...I'm glad she didn't try to drive the rest of the way then," Scully replied, concern in her voice.

"Yeah, me too," Skinner replied, crossing to the stove to check on the pot of spaghetti sauce that was simmering.

"Should I make sure we have the flashlights and candles ready, Walter?" Kevin asked, his face serious from where he was getting the pasta out of its box.

"That might be a good idea," Skinner thought, looking up towards the roof when another loud crack of thunder rattled the windows.

"Well if we lose power at least we won't have to worry about the gas stove," Scully observed as she chopped up some more onions for the salad. "But I can finish up dinner anyway while you two batten down the hatches," she volunteered.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll check the generator and make sure it's gassed up too. At least we can run the fridge and the well pump so we'll have water. It might even be able to hold the AC too so we don't cook in here," Skinner replied decisively.

"Harlan said it can. But that'll pretty much put the house generator at capacity," Kevin replied, nodding as they went about their appointed tasks.

In the middle of eating their spaghetti and salad, the lights went out.

"Oh man...here we go," Kevin observed as they sat there staring at each other in the dark for a moment.

"Italian food, by candlelight...not altogether a bad thing," Scully suggested, her tone of voice soft as Skinner got up to retrieve the candles from the kitchen counter.

He turned back at her and saw the enigmatic look on her face. Skinner felt something warm in his chest at seeing that Mona Lisa smile. They'd ordered Italian food at a tiny restaurant on the way back from the conference in New York. Some place they just happened upon in a small town on the way back to DC. The meal had been romantic...it was like they were still on the honeymoon or something...well it was like that for him anyway...he'd been so euphoric thinking they could make it work. The dinner had been by candlelight and he still remembered how fabulous Scully had looked that night. They'd gone back out to the car and necked like teenagers. The look on her face right now made him think...no, he shook his head. That couldn't be the case. He continued to the counter, picked up two candles and matches and returned to the table.

After Skinner cranked up the generator, they finished the meal by candlelight and as Scully and Kevin talked about music and his band, he didn't say much. He just watched Scully and mostly listened to the lively conversation. Finally things were winding down and he cleaned the last of the pasta from his plate as Kevin swallowed his last mouthful of garlic bread and spoke to Scully again.

"Yeah, my friend Carolyn likes Melissa Etheridge too. She's trying to get me to listen to more women and women groups. I kind of like Courtney Love and Hole...but...I guess I'm still into Prodigy, SevenDust and even Static X a lot," he replied.

"Well...I think the more types of music you listen to the more well rounded you'll be when you write your own," Scully suggested. "I like a little bit of everything. Lately I've been listening to a lot of the blues," she added. Her voice took on an odd quality, catching on the word, 'blues' and Skinner looked into her profile, his brow furrowing a little. He decided to ring in on this line of the conversation to see what was up with her here...as well as to get in his two cents regarding what he listened to quite a bit.

"Yeah, the blues underpin a lot of rock and roll. For instance...some of the groups I listen to like 'The Rolling Stones' and individual artists like Jimi Hendrix hark directly back to the old blues men," he replied.

"Exactly...classic rock," Kevin nodded astutely. "You listen to Hendrix? How about Santana...those guys are masters," he added respectfully.

"Santana rocks all right. And oh yeah...I'm a Hendrix fan from way back," Skinner replied, grinning a little.

Scully chuckled musically and Skinner looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I was only going to tell Kevin that if he asked politely you might sing for him," she added, suppressing an uncharacteristic giggle.

"You sing Hendrix?" Kevin asked in wonder. Giving him a grin and leaning forward eagerly to hear more about this development.

Skinner wanted to either throttle Scully or laugh like hell. God...he remembered singing some Rolling Stones for her rather than Hendrix at one point after New York...he had a good voice actually and the effort had delighted her at the time, cheered her up, and been pretty damn funny actually. And that had been just before she found out she had cancer and the whole thing went down the crapper.

He smiled however because he did remember that moment with fondness. Scully recognized the expression on his face as one of fond remembrance and smiled gently at him.

"Walter sings very well," she replied more quietly. Their eyes locked for a second. A bolt of lightning set Scully's face off in a flare of brightness. Thunder boomed around them and Skinner pulled his eyes away and addressed Kevin.

"Yeah, I used to do a little singing. But...uh...I'd better take a rain check. To be honest...I'm a bit beat. I don't 'warble well' when my ass is dragging," he replied good-naturedly. "Maybe later...if you really mind your Ps and Qs you can crank up your guitar and I'll give you a sample of my questionable talents," he ended on a chuckle.

"Oh man...I am so there," Kevin enthused, practically vibrating with excitement.

Skinner shook his head and laughed a little harder.

"I'm probably going to make a fool out of myself," he replied.

Scully shook her head.

"I doubt it," she stated, rising from her chair with an almost wistful grin.

She picked up her plate and started to walk over to the dishwasher. Skinner felt his chest swell with pride at her remembering that moment as well as thinking he'd pleased her with his singing. He let his eyes rake over her as she turned her back and he knew for a moment, before he could hide it, his face showed all his love for her, his desire and his sadness. When he looked away he noticed Kevin studying him. He pulled his gaze away from the teen and back towards Scully.

"I suppose you'd...you'd better plan on staying here, Scully," he heard himself saying as his eyes played over her back. "With this storm, finding your way into town is apt to be dangerous. You can have my room...I'll bunk on the couch," he finished easily. There...he'd gotten it out. That wasn't bad he thought. Yeah? Then how come you didn't ask her to her face, the small voice in the back of his mind piped up. And why is your stomach doing flip flops, it added. He gave the voice a mental kick in the ass and it shut up as Scully straightened and closed the dishwasher door.

Scully turned back around and returned to the table.

"Thank you. I'd thought about asking but didn't want to impose. I have a bag and my laptop in my car," she smiled at him and then as an afterthought, at Kevin. Kevin nodded and smiled back.

Kevin looked from one to the other of them and then nodded again, seeming to come to some type of decision.

"Hey, I'll help clean up and then I think I'll go to bed if you two don't mind. I'm kind of tired myself and tomorrow we might have some stuff to clean up after the storm. I'd better get a good night's sleep," he suggested looking from Scully to Skinner.

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