TITLE: Triple Counterpoint
(Part 0 of 30 parts - The usual header stuff and author's notes)
NAME: frogdoggie
E-MAIL: frogdoggie@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: SRA
RATING: NC-17. M/SK, SK/SC, M/SC, M/SK/SC. This story contains very explicit slash i.e. m/m sex as well as explicit het sex. So, if you don’t like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.
SUMMARY: Mulder, Scully and Skinner come to terms with their tripartite relationship at last. Will the relationship survive? The action here takes place approximately 8 weeks after "Counterbalance". Obviously you may want to read the series to understand this narrative. "The Baton Rouge Series" can be found at: https://www.squidge.org/3wstop.
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.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: Sixth Season and this is immediately before Two Fathers/One Son in my timeline. So it would be safe to say that all of Season six up to that point would constitute a spoiler warning. It's also going to be obvious that I've changed the series timeline to fit into the "Baton Rouge" universe. I am trying to catch up with Season Six events now, however. Mulder and Scully will get the X-Files back - eventually as we know. Oh - and still NO SR819 even though by this point it ain't gonna appear in the timeline! ROFL. So, I've still kind of reinvented the mytharc for my AU as well. Sorry if all that bothers you - feel free to go elsewhere if it does. I won't mind.
KEYWORDS: story slash Skinner Mulder Scully NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Dana Scully 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.
Completed November 1999.
*Author's notes here and at the end:
For every Alpha there is an Omega. For every beginning, an end. So...yes...this is the last story in "The Baton Rouge Series" - really. It's been a great ride but the ride's over, readers. Time to hit the exit turnstile and head back out to the midway.
Back when I wrote the first story, "Baton Rouge" itself, I wasn't really intending to make it part of a series. However, the wonderful, complimentary feedback and constructive criticism I got from readers really fueled this entire production over the many months I've been writing it. So, I can only say that truly, it's been a labor of love brought on by an appreciative reading public. I want to thank everyone who has been so supportive of "Baton Rouge". You've been the best, and it's been a pleasure to give you my best.
I should also say a few words about this story in particular. I have made a conscious decision to write this story from Mulder's and Skinner's POVs. The first story in the series, "Baton Rouge", was written specifically about Mulder and Skinner and I felt strongly that this last story should be in their voices. As a result, Scully's part will be conveyed through her dialogue and not her inner thoughts, as well as the way the men see her. I hope this will still give her a strong presence in the action. It was not my intent to slight her or make her less important for any reason. So, I hope this writer's prerogative won't displease too many of you. If it does, c'est la vie. As the old saying goes - you can't please all of the people...well I guess you get the message.
Lastly...I'd like to dedicate this final "Baton Rouge" story to several people. These individuals through their support, interesting conversation, compassion, common sense and love have made me a better man...and made my life a joy. So, I offer my appreciation to my wife June, my cybersister - Crash, cyberbrother - Mik, my friend, the beta goddess - Susan, the Slash House that frog built, out Seattle way, long may your banners wave - RJ, their fearless leader, Peach, Tony, Lucy, Bev, Julie, Debra, Elizabeth, Donna, Monica and Regina...and last but not least...God bless him, my late brother - Robert. Without knowing Robert, who died of AIDS in 1995, and his partner who survives him, I would never have been able to depict a loving marriage between two men. Robert was a true X-Phile. I miss him but I know he's near...and I know I'll see him again.
Now...on with the story...
Bests,
frogdoggie aka Jay Fox
-END OF PART 0 - HEADER STUFF AND AUTHOR'S FIRST NOTE-
Completed November and December of 1999.
Triple Counterpoint
by frogdoggie
Triple Counterpoint: three-part musical counterpoint so written
that any part may be transposed above or below any other.
-Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary
Monday, August 2, 1999. 3 PM. Outside an abandoned Class B Dog Kennel. Near Simsbury, Connecticut.
"Agent Mulder...are you sure about this?" SAC Harris from the Hartford Bureau office asks, his brow furrowing.
"I'm sure. He's in there. They're all in there. Deploy your men. Just...just don't uh...spook him, and wait for my signal," I advise, wiping rain out of my eyes.
Harris gives me a terse twitch of his lips which might almost be a smile of approval.
"All right, you're the man," he replies briskly. He turns away to gather his troops.
"I'm the man all right...yeah...the man with the plan," I mumble, peering through the rain towards the buildings ahead of us. It's been drizzling all day but now as the afternoon shadows grow longer, the rain's picking up, turning the dirt road to mud and making us wet and uncomfortable as well as nervous.
Damn Kersh and this VCS assignment. I bet he's not sitting in the bushes outside a Class B Dog dealership in rural Connecticut getting soaked to the skin. No...right about now he's probably surfing the Internet for pics of naked men. I glance at my watch. Well...maybe it's a little early for it. But later, yeah, later he'll be pulling his pud in front of the monitor for sure.
Yeah...well...if he didn't put me out here this asshole perp would still be on the loose kidnapping young women. He'd still be caging them like puppy mill puppies, keeping his harem until he got tired of them. He'd still be raping them, torturing them and then one by one, dumping their bodies in Humane Society dumpsters all over the state of Connecticut. No, James Dooley would still be playing his sick games with 16 year old prom queens that his notes on the bodies call bitches, and he wouldn't have the FBI closing in on him if it wasn't for good old Spooky Mulder, 'super-profiler'.
Yeah, Mulder's all right when the local office needs the Monster Boy to hook some pervert and get him off the street. Otherwise...he's a fucking faggot looney-tune. Ah, screw it. Whatever. Ignore me. I get this way when I'm on a VCS case. If I'm not morose and bitter, I'm morose and vomiting.
Ah...forget it. Right now I have to buckle down so we get our...man. Man? I do use that term loosely, however. This guy's an animal - not even on the same par as the dogs he used to breed at this rotten class B dog farm. I'd never regret coming out here to stop what he's doing, though. No matter how much I carp about it.
I pull my collar up around my ears against the rain and check my weapon. Harris comes back over.
"You ready?" he asks, his voice tense.
"Yeah. I'll go in and pretend I'm some idiot that thinks I can still buy a puppy from this bozo. Once I've got his confidence...well just wait for my signal," I reply, adjusting my trench coat so the gun is well concealed and dry.
Harris nods. I stand up and head off towards the old farmhouse where I can plainly see James Dooley's silhouette when he turns on the light in his kitchen.
xXx
Monday, August 2, 1999. 4 PM. Margaret Scully's house. Maryland.
"Dana Scully."
"Hi...how are you feeling?"
"Walter! It's...it's so good to hear your voice.
"It's good to hear your voice too...ah hell, Scully. It's fantastic to hear your voice."
"I missed you...big man."
"Oh, woman...I...I missed you too. And look...I'm really sorry I didn't get to call you sooner. I had to go down to Atlanta..."
"Walter...it's ok. Mulder told me you had to, as he described it, 'kick some ass' in Atlanta..."
"Well still...look...how are you doing?"
"Actually...I feel good. I'm kind of amazing myself, I guess. The recovery's going well."
"Seriously? This isn't one of those 'I'm fine' speeches is it?"
"Hey..."
"Hey, yourself...you know what I mean."
"All right, yes. But really...I feel a lot better than I thought I would."
"Dana?"
"Yes?"
"I can't tell you how good that makes me feel."
"Well...I...I can tell it does, Walter. So...uh...what's up? Have you heard from the third wheel?"
"No, have you?"
"No."
"Christ...I can't believe Kersh threw him to the wolves out in Connecticut so soon after...after your being shot. That VCS case..."
"It's a bad one isn't it?"
"Yeah...it's no picnic. But...Mulder's the man for the job, so..."
"Right, I know, Walter. But...God. I hate when he has to go on those things..."
"I used to hate loaning him out for them, believe me. But...he'll handle it...he has to handle it."
"I know, Walter. I guess none of us liked it."
"No...but handling it...handling all the shitcan cases...it comes with the territory."
"Oh...I got that point here recently."
"God damn...I'm sorry...that didn't...didn't come across right."
"No...it's ok. I...I wasn't thinking of you. I was thinking of Kersh and how he probably didn't care that he was...well...never mind. I...I know what you meant. Sometimes we all have to handle it, don't we?"
"Exactly."
"So...uh...what's up with you, Batman?"
"Same old, same old. But...actually...I do have something I wanted to ask you."
"Fire away, by all means."
"Well...uh...we haven't had a lot of quality time together lately. I...things just haven't worked out that way and...and I'd like to remedy that situation."
"Go on..."
"I have a lot of time saved up...vacation time...and I thought...Dennis and Phil are going to Europe around September 14. I've asked them if I...I mean if we...could use Dragon's Roost for a few days. That is if you're interested in going up there with me. It's close to the end of the eight week recovery and...well if you're not interested though, or didn't feel like it I'd..."
"Walter?"
"Yeah?"
"I'd love to go up to Crossroads with you. Let's see how the rest of my recovery goes. But...if I feel as good in eight weeks as I do now, I'd say we'll be going to Maine for sure."
"Excellent. All...all right, that's great."
"I really liked it up there. It'll be fun. Walter...it's really nice of you to suggest it."
"Thanks, uh....God, you know...this is great."
"Why, Walter...do I detect some eagerness here?"
"Hey...come on...I know what I sound like. I sound like a fuckin' sixteen year old asking his best girl out on a date..."
"I know...and it's so sweet..."
"Woman...you're embarrassing the hell out of me."
"And you love it."
"Yeah, I do."
"Walter, seriously. I'm really looking forward to spending time with you."
"Thanks, Dana. I...this means a lot to me."
"It means a lot to me...oh...hang on a second, Walter..."
"Sure."
"Damn. Listen. I have to go. I've got a physical therapy appointment and my mother's champing at the bit to drive me over to the hospital."
"No problem. Take care, Dana. I'll talk to you again."
"Walter...if you hear from Mulder..."
"I'm sure he'll contact us both when he can."
"I know he'll try."
"He will...try not to worry about it."
"He's a big boy?"
"Exactly...and Dana?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Walter. Take care."
xXx
Monday, August 2, 1999. 10 PM. A Holiday Inn. Simsbury, Connecticut.
"Hello, Mom? Can you hear me? Yes...this is Fox...yes," I shout into the cell phone. The rainstorm from this afternoon has turned into a late summer thunder and lightning storm. The thunder drowns out my words.
"Fox, where are you?" my mother answers.
"I'm in Simsbury, near Hartford..."
"Oh, Fox...I saw the news tonight...are you all right?"
I look down at my legs at the bruises and scratches that criss-cross my thighs. Yeah, I would have been a lot better if I hadn't fallen over that end table in Dooley's living room. Still I guess I should be glad the guy was a coward and chose to run instead of going for one of the guns he had stashed in the house. Or maybe it was just because there wasn't a gun closeby - except for the ones Harris and his men and myself had trained on him by that point. Yeah, our waving 'Mr. Smith and Wesson' might have had something to do with the fact that he ran like hell. Even with tripping over that battered table, I had him on his stomach and cuffed before he could do any other damage.
"Sure, Mom...I'm fine," I reply, taking a seat on the bed. Relatively. The minor bodily injuries are one thing...mentally...well let's not even go there.
"Oh, Fox...all those young women..." she whispers into the phone.
"I know," I reply, holding the phone cupped to my ear.
Three of the women were naked and chained up like dogs in kennel runs in an old barn. He'd gagged them all with duct tape so they'd be quiet. It was so far out in the country that any noise they made probably wouldn't have been heard...but then some idiot like me might have come up there thinking they could still buy a puppy for their kids. The guy was a cautious son of a bitch, I'll give him that.
The fourth woman was in his bedroom, naked, and chained to the bed. She...that's the one Mr. Dooley had become tired of, I guess. She'd been tortured, raped, and then strangled. The coroner said she'd been dead less than an hour before we...if only...oh fuck it. This job is made up of too many 'if onlys'.
"Fox...I...am proud of you, son," my mother's voice wavers into my ear.
I almost drop the cell phone. Christ. My mother...my...she hardly ever..."
"Fox?"
"Uh...thanks, Mom...I...I tried...I wish we'd gotten there a little sooner," I reply quietly.
"You saved three women...and God knows how many more, son. I don't think you should feel guilty about that," she states firmly.
I feel like checking my speed dial to make sure I didn't re-program the number somehow. Jesus...maybe this is a Teena clone instead of the real Teena Mulder. But if she's in this good a mood, this...laudatory...the original reason for my call may have some hope.
"Mom...that means a lot right now," I reply sincerely. "A lot."
"Now...you really aren't hurt are you?" she asks again.
"No...really...I'm fine," I reply, smiling a little as I think of how quickly Scully's patent answer springs to my lips. "Uh...I just called to say hello since I was in the area and to see...are you going to be home tomorrow, Mom?"
"Why, son?" she asks. Now, that sounds more like the old Teena. Her voice is tinged with suspicion. 'Why would Fox want to see me?' Yeah, well, Mom, maybe I want to see you because you're my mother and I need desperately to talk to you.
"Well...I thought I'd drop in and...you know...visit," I reply, wincing a little at the
halting words.
"Visit? Well..."
"Mom, I really need to talk. I want to let you know...I've...I've found someone, Mom. Someone special and..."
"Fox..."
"I know uh...that we've talked about my sexual preferences before and..."
"Fox?"
"Yes?"
"Fox. I'm not going to be at home tomorrow. I have to see the lawyers..."
"Oh. All day?"
"I have a doctor's appointment as well...just a check-up but..."
"Even tomorrow evening?"
"Fox...I don't feel up to discussing this with you right now...you know my feelings regarding your...choices in that area..."
"Mom..."
"Please, Fox...it's late, and I have to get my rest. The lawyer's appointment is very early..."
I close my eyes and sigh. Yeah...that's my mom all right. Fuckin' A as Walter would say. I should have known better. But even as I think that, I just have to try one more time.
"Mom...I'm in love..."
"Fox, I have to go. I love you, son...I just...not right now," she whispers. I hear some fumbling on the other end of the line and the connection goes dead. For a moment I just sit staring into space, the cell phone to my ear. Finally, I pull the cell phone away and flip it off, tossing it onto the bed with an air of resignation.
I straighten my shoulders and reach over onto the night stand into the pile of pocket change I placed there earlier. I choose a shiny quarter and finger it thoughtfully. Ok. Heads or tails. Tails, I think. I toss the coin up and let it fall to the floor. Tails it is I see. I smile a little. I don't think...I don't think I ever told him he's tails, I chuckle, reaching for the cell phone again.
I punch in Walter's number and wait as it rings. Two rings and he answers without even waiting for me to say it's me.
"Mulder? Babe? I talked to VCS...Richards told me...then I saw the news tonight. Are you all right?" he fires rapidly, the concern in his voice palpable.
"Yeah, I am now," I smile and shift back against the headboard to fill the first of my partners in on the day's events.
xXx
August 13, 1999
Dear Mom,
I'm writing you this letter in the hopes that you'll be better able to understand what I've been trying to tell you if you read it rather than hear me say it. So far my talking to you either in person or over the phone hasn't quite gotten my point across I guess. I mean, neither of those approaches seems to have worked so far since you've hung up on me or changed the subject when we're together. So maybe seeing is believing will prove to be the solution to my getting my point across. I'll just take the direct approach here and hope for the best.
Mom, I'm in love with another man. Sorry to be so blunt about it but those are just the plain facts. Now I know what you've said before regarding my trying to reveal my preferences for men. When I was younger it was always - "Oh, Fox, that's just a phase - you'll grow out of it". Later, it was "Well for God's sake don't tell your father." Finally, after Dad died it became "Fox, your father would be so disappointed in you." Well...Mom, my question to you is - are you so disappointed in me too that you can't listen when I tell you I'm as happy as I've been in years? You don't want to hear that my love for this man and his love for me has brought me a measure of peace again?
Oh yeah, I know what you're thinking. But Fox - you've had girlfriends. So...ok...I like women as well. In fact....I've got an equally wonderful woman in my life at the moment too. That's right, a man and a woman. The term for liking women and men is bisexual, Mom. Yes, your son swings both ways and you know what...it's just a fact of life. It's normal as far as I'm concerned and hey, I'm a psychologist so I should know, right?
I'm sorry, I don't mean to be flippant. The only thing I'm asking for is understanding. Mom, I do love you. I...well you've told me you love me too. So, I'm hoping our love will bring understanding and...maybe respect regarding my life choice. I don't want it to come between us as so many other issues have become between us in the past.
I have two fantastic people in my life right now. Mom, both of them make me feel...they just make me feel so...alive. I haven't felt...whole and so good for so long that...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fuck it. How the hell can I even hope she'll understand? Teena Mulder? 'The Queen of Denial'? Yeah, right. Give it up, Fox. Your mom's not going to want to hear it. She'll block it out. She's blocked out so much over the years. For Teena blocking out the unpleasant memories is what's important. Oh she has some memories. Memories of Samantha and me when we were kids...before the 'incident'. The memories of what we had before Sam was gone are sometimes all there is between Mom and me. But, Teena actively suppresses her memories. It's like a reflex for her now. "Oh, Fox, I don't remember those things," has become her catch-phrase - even before the stroke those were her watchwords. She doesn't remember so much...and I remember it all...at least...at least I hope I do.
xXx
Saturday, August 14, 1999. 9 PM. Viva Towers. Crystal City, VA.
"Babe, what's wrong? You've been quiet all evening," Walter asks as I sip my coffee and stare at the early news on TV. The images flicker across my hands. The dancing illumination is the only light in the room right now.
Walter and I are sitting on the couch in the living room of what I do like to think of as our apartment now even though I haven't moved in here. Walter's holding me against him and absentmindedly stroking my arm in the half-light. I've been drifting, the warmth of his body lulling me to relax even though my mind fights against it. I should be relaxed and happy.
We had a great day. We went for a drive in the morning, taking the Jeep around town, just...you know, driving and talking. We ended up at the gym across the street from the Unitarian Church. Some of the guys from the congregation - gay and straight actually, including the pastor, Joe Gregg, play basketball in the afternoon over there. Walter and I joined in on the pick-up game. I guess we felt it was safe to join in because it was a mixed group. We still have to be discreet, unfortunately. No one knew anyone's sexual preferences anyway when it came right down to it. We were just basketball players.
The team I was on mopped the floor with Walter and Joe's squad. I can get a lot of mileage out of teasing Walter over winning that game for a while. I thanked Joe Gregg for praying for Scully. And yeah...I'm going to church in the morning. Hey...why not? Just seeing the look on Walter's face when I said I'd be there was worth it.
After the game, Walter and I ended up at Club 219 for dinner. We did take separate cars and scoped things out as we always do before we go inside. We've been trying to go there once in a while on a Saturday night even though both of us know it's kind of a risk. I know Walter really values his time out in the gay community. I'm willing to risk these trips for him but also I enjoy them too, really. There is a great deal of pleasure being a little more free in public with Walter. To be able to hold his hand once in a while and not worry about what anyone will say. I enjoy the same freedom with Scully when we go clubbing. So far, Walter and I have been lucky in that no one has outted us. Of course the place is as conservative as hell - practically a gay man's 'old school' club and discreet by its nature. So, I think we feel a measure of safety because of that idea.
Tonight we met Dennis and Phil from Crossroads at the club. The guys are doing fine and it was very pleasant to see them. Both of them have new shows in different DC galleries so that's why they were in town. Phil was his usual maniacal self. The usually more laid-back Dennis egged on his partner as well so both of them had Walter and I in stitches during the meal. It was a welcome distraction. They wanted to go out dancing afterwards but Walter begged off, claiming fatigue from having his ass beat in basketball earlier. Now, I think Walter, sensing my mood, wanted to get me back home to pry what was wrong out of me. He knew I'd pretty much decompressed from the VCS case. So, he was puzzling over just why I'd been so subdued I suppose.
At any rate, Walter was finalizing plans for using Dragon's Roost, Dennis and Phil's house, if Scully agrees to go to Maine. He's asked her. She's just been waiting to see how the recovery progresses to respond firmly to the offer. Her tentative answer was yes, of course. Walter's really stoked about going. I know Scully is hoping she can too. I think it's great. If they invite me up I'm going to really be on cloud nine. So, we're all hoping.
I focus on that idea in order to respond to Walter's question. Because in spite of the fact that this should have been a stellar day, I've been miserable for most of it. I really don't want to tell Walter about my aborted attempt to write Teena a letter. I haven't told him she hung up on me again. Oh yeah, I told him about the call I made from the hotel in Connecticut. I told Scully too that night. Both of them gave me so much support over the phone...it was incredibly kind. They really helped me to feel better. But now...I...well...I just don't want Walter to think he needs to wet-nurse me again so soon.
So, I'd prefer not to discuss this latest incident. I don't know...I just feel like lately I've seemed so...what? Needy maybe? Like I've been...putting myself before him? Having him hold my hand through another family crisis? Whining...oh whatever. I just don't want to tell him. I reach forward and place my coffee mug on the coffee table in front of us.
"I'm just tired I guess. Are you going to call Scully tonight and ask her for her decision about the trip?" I ask, glancing into his face.
He raises an eyebrow and extricates his arm from around my shoulders. He places his coffee mug on the table as well. When he turns to capture my eyes, his face is stern but his eyes are filled with his concern and love for me. I look down at my hands under that loving gaze to mask the emotions on my face.
"I'm calling her tomorrow. Come on, Mulder...what's eating you? And don't give me that 'I'm fine, I'm just tired' bullshit. That pick-up basketball game this afternoon couldn't have worn you out that much. You've been a good boy and stayed in town since you got back from Connecticut. So, your ass can't be dragging from running off against Kersh's orders...so what gives?" he presses, reaching over to gently run his large hand through my hair to temper his words.
I sigh. Ok, well he has been saying how we should communicate more. God knows he's been more forthright about so much lately. I have to almost laugh. Walter has never been the communicative one. I've always been the one to run off at the mouth. But you know...even with all my blabbering, sometimes what I've said hasn't been...well I haven't always said the important things. Guys just don't. Harsh psychosocial facts, folks. Harsh and harmful. Stupid...but we do it anyway. So, opening up...as hard as it's been for Walter? It's been as hard for me too.
"Ok, you got me, big guy. Yeah, I've got some stuff on my mind. You sure you want to hear about it though? It...it involves my mother."
Walter moves back a little and prepares to listen.
"What's up with Teena now?" he asks quietly as I compose myself to answer.
"Well I got to thinking I'd give it another shot...you know explaining to my mother that Fox loves boys and girls..." I begin.
"You called her again?" he asks, touching my arm where I have it stretched across the back of the couch.
"Yeah. I just felt like I needed to at least try to have her hear what I was saying. After I thought about how you handled it with your family, I just told myself - what the fuck - I'll give Teena another go."
"And I take it, it didn't 'go'," he replies, pulling his hand back and running it up under his glasses. I watch him rub the bridge of his nose and think to myself 'Yup, that's pretty much the way I feel about Teena too'. She's a real headache producer. Pass the Excedrin.
"I called her. She hung up on me again," I answer, giving a weary shake of my head.
"Babe, I am sorry. You know...maybe she's just not going to be able to handle it. I know we've talked about...about the advisability of even telling her anything, much less that you're involved with both Scully and me..." Walter begins.
"I know. It's probably not a good move. I didn't tell her anything about Scully in the phone call. I just told her I was in love with a man. I didn't even mention your name," I reply miserably.
Walter moves closer and puts his arm around me again. He rubs my shoulder.
"Fox...you know I'd never be ashamed to have you tell anyone we're lovers. But...you know the way it is...I don't like it either," he replies, sighing as well.
I nod. Both of us sit there together lost in thought for a few moments. The TV drones on and a weatherman tells us it will be another sunny, pleasantly warm day tomorrow. Well hell - a perfect day and I'm going to be in this moribund mood again? Oh man...I'd better try to shake it off here. I pull back and look into Walter's face.
"Listen, I'm sorry," I finally tell him. "I'm ruining the evening and I really don't want to do that. Let's...you wanna watch a video or something?"
"No...I'll tell you what," he replies smiling at me. "Why don't I give you a rub-down. I haven't done that in a while. It would relax you and you know I'd enjoy doing it," he adds with a grin.
"You sure? You're not too tired? I mean after that ass beating you took on the basketball court this afternoon..." I start to reply, teasing him.
"Asshole," he interrupts, cuffing me on the back of the head. "Get your ass up to the bedroom. I'll be there in a minute after I take these mugs to the kitchen."
I laugh and do as he suggests, turning on the lamp next to the TV and then turning the TV off before I leave his side.
xXx
Later, in the master bedroom after both of us have cleaned up for the night, Walter begins to administer his expert massage.
I'm naked, lying on the bed on my stomach to start, and Walter is seated next to me on his knees, naked as well. He's brought a bottle of soothing sandalwood scented oil out of the bathroom to use over me. He's also placed a large beach towel under me so the bath oil doesn't get on the comforter. The AC is at just the right temperature, the lights are dimmed, he's put on some classical music, it's playing softly from the small bookshelf stereo he purchased recently for just these occasions...and the setting's perfect. Fantastic in fact. I'm relaxing with each push of his strong hands as they knead my flesh. I really do appreciate him doing this for me. I can feel the earlier tense, dismal mood being worked out of every coil of my muscles.
He warms the oil up in his hands and uses his body weight to go to work over every inch of me. The warmth, pressure, scent, and music lull me wonderfully and Walter doesn't speak as he massages so that the spell won't be broken by conversation.
Finally, after he finishes with my calves he does murmur for me to turn over and I do, facing him as he sits there warming up a little more oil. I glance from his strong featured face, down that magnificent chest, past the toned stomach muscles and beyond to between his legs. I notice with both pleasure and a little dismay that he's partly erect. Oh brother. I'm as limp as a dishrag - all over. After one of Walter's really serious massages I usually fall asleep and getting busy i.e. doing the wild thing, isn't on the agenda. I feel kind of guilty that the big guy's getting a jones-on over doing this for me. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to help him do anything about it. He notices where my eyes end up, and as he moves his hands over and onto my shoulders, he smiles a little.
"It's ok, babe. Consider it a compliment and don't worry about it," he assures me.
"Yeah, but..."
"Yeah, but nothing. I don't have any complaints. You know...just because I touch you and get hard doesn't mean we have to fuck. Are you really in the mood for that tonight?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
I chuckle.
"Walter...I feel as limp as a dishrag - to your credit by the way. And to tell you the truth...I couldn't get it up if I OD'd on Viagra right now," I reply ruefully.
"All right then. So, don't feel guilty because you're going to fall asleep when we're done here," he replies, chuckling a little.
I nod, shut my eyes and lie back while he continues to rub me down. When he's done I am almost asleep - my eyes drowsy, the lids at halfmast. He gets up, and I watch him from under my eyelashes. He wipes his hands on the bath towel he'd also brought in from the bathroom. He tosses the towel onto the foot of the bed and then slides off on my side. His half-mast erection bobs out of his thatch of wiry pubic hair. Oh man....I hope he's not going to regret what he said earlier I think as I watch him head over to the linen closet. He takes out a light flannel sheet and comes back over to the bed.
"This will keep your muscles warm," he comments as he lays the sheet over me and tucks it round.
"Thanks...lover," I mumble. He nods and then goes to the bookcase. He turns off the stereo and the room falls silent. When he comes back to bed he turns both night stand lights off and then slips into bed next to me.
"Want part of the sheet?" I ask quietly.
"You bet," he smiles. I lift the flannel sheet and he slides in next to me. We give each other a sleepy kiss. I roll over and he hugs me close. I can feel his erection jutting against my ass.
"You sure you're going to be ok?" I ask, yawning.
"Mulder...I'll be fine," he chuckles in my ear.
"All right...but...next time we get together..."
"Oh yeah. I'm counting on the next time," he smiles against my neck.
"Exactly. The doctor did say that..."
He chuckles again.
"Christ, I still can't believe you asked him about that when he was checking my prostate."
"Well, it seemed appropriate."
"Yeah, but did you have to ask him if he believed those Urban Legends about flashlights or Richard Gere and gerbils?" Walter growls, trying not to laugh harder. "That was fucking embarrassing - not to mention really politically incorrect."
I laugh too then but when I answer I'm more than a little chagrined at the memory. Our doctor allows partners to wait outside the curtain during exams if both partners consent to the situation. He feels it fosters better communication if either partner has a question...well I did and...I guess you get the picture.
"Hey, I'm sorry about that too. What can I say...I was nervous...it just came out."
Walter snorts laughter and I reach back and slap his ass.
"Come on, big guy. If nothing else, it broke the ice so what do you care? Besides he said if we go slow, use a ton of lube and don't act recklessly, we can tickle your fancy quite nicely," I finish, trying to cover my discomfiture with a joke.
Walter strokes my thigh and lets me off the hook.
"All right, I get your point, Monster Boy. So, next time you'll bring the toys and we'll get down to it," he replies, nuzzling my neck again.
"Yes, sir," I reply, moving back against him. We lay there in silence for a few minutes, just relaxing and listening to each other's breathing. Walter drapes his arm over my middle again. I finally feel his erection subsiding. He speaks again and his voice is full of sleep.
"I set the alarm for 8. We'll be able to make the 11 AM service that way," he murmurs in my ear.
"K," I reply, yawning. "Thanks, Walter. I...this was great," I add, snuggling close to him.
"My pleasure, babe. Night," he replies, yawning as well.
"Sweet dreams," I reply.
He murmurs something soft and incoherent, and then he's snoring lightly behind me as my eyes close as well.
xXx
Saturday, August 21, 1999. 4 PM. Dana Scully's Apartment. Georgetown.
"So, how does it feel to be home, Scully?"
"Mulder, as much as I love my mother...I have to tell you...it's very good to be back on my home turf," Scully replies with a small smile.
I hold the door open for her, one of her suitcases in my hand and her garment bag over my shoulder. She has her carry-on over her shoulder as she walks past me. Her step is unwavering and more energetic than you'd expect. The physical therapy is of course, helping - but her recovery has been quite remarkable nonetheless. We've talked about it...she...well maybe neither one of us is willing to think about Fellig at this point. Fellig and the implications of what happened after Scully was shot in his studio. There's a limit sometimes to what even I'm willing to believe I guess. At any rate, I'm extremely thankful she's here, she's whole and we're together again.
"You sure you just weren't embarrassed because Byers was hanging around too much?" I tease.
John Byers and Maggie are still an item. I know Byers didn't poke his nose in at her mother's house very often while Scully was there. I think he was as nervous about facing Scully after his big fourth of July declaration. He's respecting her need for space to get used to the idea that he's interested in her mother. Damn I still have trouble believing it. But Maggie is genuinely fond of Mr. JFB. I gotta hope things work out. I want Maggie to be happy for sure...and...yeah...I'd like to see any of those three idiots settle down and find some happiness - what can I say?
"He did not 'hang around', Mulder. He took my mother to dinner one night while I was there. It was...well he minded his manners," she replied, trying to suppress a giggle at the end.
"What?" I ask, closing her front door and carrying her luggage over to the couch. Scully heads for the bedroom with her carry-on and I take a detour, following her.
"Oh...it's just that..." she begins and then she starts to laugh and the rest of the sentence comes out in a snort. "He just looked so scared to death," she adds, tossing her bag on the overstuffed chair near the window in the room. I laugh as well and place her garment bag over the chair and the suitcase on the floor next to it.
"You are such a bitch, Scully," I reply, sputtering. "I mean...poor Byers. For crying out loud...he's...he's...you know he's scared shitless about what you're going to think. Can't you cut him some slack?"
She continues to laugh as she picks the garment bag up and carries it over to the closet. I stand there with my hands on my hips giving her a mock glower until she finally calms down. She waves her hand in a dismissive gesture as she opens the closet door and hangs the bag up inside.
"Oh I know...really...I did later. I...Byers and I went for coffee. We had a nice talk. He's going to be less nervous I think. At least around me. Bill, on the other hand..." she replies, turning to look at me.
"Oh puhlease...let's not spoil your homecoming by talking about your brother..." I start to complain.
"All right...ok...sorry," she laughs again. "Jesus," she adds under her breath. Then she smiles and shakes her head.
"That's much better...baby..." I reply slyly. She looks up and gives me a really poisonous look.
"I told you not to call me baby..." she replies, arching an eyebrow.
"Sorry...honey..." I reply, smirking.
"Oh - you are really in for it..." she parries back and then without warning, she launches herself towards me. I laugh hard, spin around and run like hell as she chases after me.
We run, laughing, out into the living room. She's fast, but my legs are so much longer she's not going to catch me. I'm honestly surprised to see how fit she is so soon after being shot. Oh sure, she's in good shape - toned and muscular - but hell - when I've been injured I limp around like a wounded dog. Well, that's Scully - true grit personified, I guess. At any rate, right now, she's almost gaining on me so I make a hard left around the couch and dash back into the bedroom.
"Gee, baby, those little legs can really tool," I call back over my shoulder as I speed down the hallway.
"Mulder...you're going to pay..." she replies, struggling to sound angry and dissolving into more laughter.
She dashes into the bedroom and I turn around to meet her. Momentum carries her forward so fast she's thrown perfectly into my arms. We couldn't have planned it any better. I fall backwards, cradling her in my arms and we both end up on the bed.
She starts tickling me like mad and I'm laughing like hell.
"Mercy! Mercy!" I yell.
"Say uncle!" she replies, teasing and breathless.
"Uncle," I respond, and then I grab her hands, pull her close and kiss her for all I'm worth.
Our mouths play over each other for several seconds and when we break the kiss both of us are even more breathless. Scully's eyes are dancing and she lies between my legs, running her hands through my hair.
"God, Mulder...I've really missed this...you..."
"Us," I complete her thought, stroking her cheek.
"Yes," she smiles and nods.
I pull her head to my chest and stroke her back. We lie like that for a while, just touching and talking.
She tells me about staying at her mother's, about Margaret and Byers and other Scully family matters. I ask her about the 'PT' and she has me laughing over the tough black woman who's putting her through it. I tell her about the VCS case and Teena and how I feel better about both now and I have her and Walter to thank for it. We joke, and give each other a hard time, teasing as always. We caress and kiss some more. It just feels good to talk and be together.
"Um...you want to stay here a while longer?" she asks finally, levering up onto her forearms to look into my face. She touches my lips and studies my face.
I chuckle and it vibrates against her fingertip. I know she can feel my erection against her thigh. She figures I want to celebrate her homecoming in a big way. Of course I want her. I always do, but...she's a little tired now after the chase and tussle - even with the cuddling we've done. I can see it in her eyes. I'm in no hurry to rock and roll if she isn't really ready. There's plenty of time.
"Not unless you do," I reply, kissing her fingertips. I watch her reaction. If I know Scully, she's going to think she'll disappoint me if she says no.
She shouldn't feel guilty. We've talked about that idea before.
"Well..." she starts to reply and then she hesitates, dropping her eyes down between my legs.
I glance between us at the cause for her questioning gaze and nod my understanding. I take her hand and kiss her palm. She looks back up at me and I place her hand over my heart, smiling gently into her concern.
"Hey...I know you can tell part of me does...but...listen...we've talked about this before. You don't ever have to feel that I have to have it...ok? I mean if that's not what you're thinking here I apologize, but..."
She chuckles.
"We've been partners too long, Mulder. You really do have that psychic friends thing going," she replies.
"Stupendous Yappie?"
"There you go. Yeah...I'm...I am kind of tired. I'd like a shower and I'd really like some food. Later...well maybe tomorrow?"
"It's a date," I smile wider. "And to tell you the truth, I'm starving too. Why don't you go take a shower and I'll order Chinese?"
"Now there's a plan," she nods, levering up off me. I watch her glorious ass as she walks out of the bathroom. Oh yeah...tomorrow...if she's ready...can be a date for sure. I smile as I get off the bed and head into the living room to phone the restaurant.
Later, Scully and I are seated on the floor in back of her coffee table, lounging in our sweats and drinking white wine in front of the TV. We're watching "The Thing With Two Heads" on WPIX out of New York. Ok, my choice. But, despite Scully's protests at first over the movie, we've been doing our MST3K imitation for the better part of the film. It's a riot too...just...great to be laughing with her again. The doorbell rings and the delivery arrives at last.
We turn the TV sound down, dish out the Chinese and proceed to trade Kung Pao Chicken for Orange Beef over rice. As we chow down, chopsticks moving over our laden plates, I decide to ask her a question that's been plaguing me for several days.
"Listen Scully...uh...you surf those adult toy sites on the Internet once in a while, right?
"What are you implying, Mulder?" she replies, archly.
"Oh come on...you didn't march into some adult store downtown to buy that dildo you..."
"Vibrator...and I don't have it anymore," she answers, primly, taking another bite of her chicken.
"Well when you had it, which online store did you buy it from...Good Vibrations or Grand Opening Sexuality Boutique?" I ask, putting my plate down on the coffee table. I fish in my take-out box for more Orange Beef as Scully answers.
"Oh, so you've narrowed it down already?" she replies, arching an eyebrow. "Good Vibrations, why? What brought this on?" she adds, finally fessing up.
Why? Oops...maybe I shouldn't have started this line of inquiry after all. I let my eagerness in pursuing my search to fulfill Walter's fantasy get the better of my judgment. Walter's fantasy? Hell...I'm so turned on by his idea I'm half sex stupid with trying to get things set up for the big night. So, the question just kind of popped out of my lust dazed mind, what can I say? Naturally I should have realized Scully'd be curious. If I tell her I'm looking for anal toys for Walter, he'll kill me. Unfortunately, right at the moment the thought of Walter and anal toys makes me laugh, and I have to put the box of Chinese food down on the coffee table before I dump it.
"What?" she asks, starting to laugh a little herself.
"I'm going to get into real trouble if I tell you...just...I'll take your information under advisement," I reply, chuckling and wiping at my mouth with a napkin.
"Oh come on, Mulder...give. You can't just leave me hanging like that," she replies, putting her plate of take-out down next to mine.
I shake my head and toss the napkin onto the coffee table.
"You rotten tease," she replies in mock outrage. "Get into trouble? Well I'd already ruled out it wasn't a surprise gift for me since you were asking for help and that's kind of a dead giveaway. So...who else could you get into trouble with but...Walter. Come on...spill it, Dick. What are you buying for Mr. Wayne?"
"Scully...I probably shouldn't have asked you. Really. I spoke with my little head, ok? I mean Walter and I don't discuss what he does with you or what I do with you so..."
"All right. All right," she laughs holding her hands up. I probably shouldn't have asked...seriously," she replies. "I appreciate your not talking about what we do. I can respect that."
"My balls thank you. Because really, he'd break them if I told you," I add, chuckling.
"It's ok...forget I asked," she reassures me, shaking her head and laughing gently.
"Thanks, Scully. And really...I'm sorry...I was out of line to mention it."
"Well...I'll tell you what. Why don't you use my PC and surf over to Good Vibrations while I sort through my clothes. I want to do some laundry tonight. I need to empty my suitcases."
"Seriously? I mean...I could help you with the laundry."
"No, that's ok...use the PC. I wouldn't want Walter to go without his surprise too long. Go for it, Boy Wonder. I'll check on you later," she smiles, taking her glass of wine in hand and rising from the spot next to me.
"Thanks, lover," I reply blowing a kiss after her. "I'll clean up here first," I add, gesturing towards the coffee table.
"That's my man," she smiles back over her shoulder as she heads off towards the bedroom.
I chuckle again, reach for the remote and turn off the TV.
xXx
I type in the credit card number and hit the submit button. I have to remember to thank Frohike for setting up this account for me. Sometimes it's handy to not have to charge something to a credit card as Fox Mulder. Oh sure, this is my money but the account and card aren't traceable to me. At any rate, mission accomplished - and with next day delivery paid for to boot. So, we're all set. Oh man...I'll say. Walter and I are more than all set for our night of lovin'. I smile at the thought. Now we just have to find a weekend to get together. I should discuss it with Scully later. She hasn't finalized her Crossroads plans with Walter yet. I don't want to conflict with them. As I'm musing on that idea, I hear Scully come up behind me. I quickly log off. She drapes her arms over my shoulders and kisses my head.
"So, did you find what you were looking for?" she asks. "And thanks for doing the dishes."
"Yes, and you're welcome," I reply, hugging her arms to me. She yawns and I glance at the clock.
"Hey...it's almost 8. Why didn't you kick my ass out...you must be beat," I observe as she lets go and straightens up. I turn to look at her where she's standing behind me.
"Stay," she smiles. "I'd like you to stay, if you don't have plans," she adds, looking down shyly.
"I'd like that too. I don't have any plans all weekend," I reply, taking her hand and stroking her fingers. "Why don't we turn in. It won't hurt to get a good night's sleep."
"Let me just get this last batch of laundry out of the dryer," she replies, smiling softly at me.
xXx
Later still, we lie in her bed, snuggling together. The night light she keeps on for me more out of habit now than need to combat my nightmares, casts us in shadow as we spoon together. I drape an arm over her middle and gently stroke her scar.
"Sore?" I ask quietly as she cuddles closer.
"A little...but it's really healing well. I...I just wish it didn't look so...raw."
When we undressed earlier she'd been a little self-conscious about it. I guess the first time we were naked in front of each other gave her a bit of a pause. I hugged her and told her I was glad she was alive and to hell with the rest. Christ, both of us have scars now...and look at Walter for crying out loud. She laughed and said she wasn't in a hurry to compete with either of us...but she appreciated the sentiment. After that I'd thought the subject didn't matter anymore. I kiss her neck.
"You know it's ok...really, Dana. As long as it's not sore or bothering you, that's all I care about," I murmur.
She nods. "Yes, I know...I'm just...well never mind...it's silly, I know."
"You're beautiful," I whisper, kissing her neck again.
She giggles a little.
"Thanks...I guess a girl likes to hear it once in a while."
"Hey...guys too," I tease her
"Ok...handsome...point taken," she replies, laughing gently.
We're quiet for a few seconds and then Scully shifts and speaks again.
"I'm going to call Walter tomorrow and tell him I'm going to Maine with him. The dates he suggested should work," she states.
"September 17..."
"Through the 20th, yes. We can head back to DC on the 21st. I have a last doctor's appointment on the 22. He should release me to go back to work at that point. So, I'm going to confirm the dates for the trip with Walter," she replies.
"Great. He'll...he'll be happy to hear it. Yeah...now that I know for sure we can plan to get together for uh...my surprise," I reply, stroking her stomach again.
"I thought so," she replies, touching my hand and stilling it on her rib cage.
I hear something else underlying her words. She's pleased about the Maine trip, that's definitely there...but there's something else. A question maybe? Something...
"Yeah, that all works out great," I reply, carefully. I wait a few more moments and she speaks again, clearing her throat. She turns over to face me.
"Mulder...uh...is there something wrong?" she asks in a small voice.
"Something wrong?" I ask, my stomach jumping slightly.
"Yes...with Walter. I mean he...he sounds like himself, I guess. It's just that...well this trip...he sounds so...desperate about it. Almost like there's some kind of...issue between us. Like he...he has something he needs to discuss with me...something...oh I don't know. He's just acting so intense it's...it's starting to make me worry," she responds, studying my face.
I look into her eyes. Oh man...how much should I say here? I know Walter wants to talk to her himself. I sigh and she jumps on that, touching my arm.
"There is something wrong isn't there?" she asks again, worry creasing her brow.
"Scully...no...nothing's wrong. Don't...you don't have to worry. In fact...everything's very right," I hasten to assure her, taking her hand from my arm and holding it close.
"Well then what's..." she begins.
"Walter has just had a lot on his mind...regarding a lot of things. Work...uh...us...he wants to talk to you, I guess. He probably wants to ask your advice...and...uh...I know he wants to spend time alone with you. He...he's very much wanting to get in touch with you again...in every way," I wince as I stumble through an explanation.
"You've discussed this idea with him?" she asks, her eyes serious.
"Yeah...and...he's asked me not to say anything to you. He wants this to be between you and him...and I have to respect that request."
"Oh," she replies, looking down.
"Scully...really...this does need to be about you and Walter. Uh...sometimes things are going to be about two of us...or even one of us and not about the others, I think. I don't see that as a bad thing necessarily. I don't mind that Walter..."
"But, Mulder...he talked to you about it and not to me...I...that bothers me. Why couldn't he just come to me in the first place and discuss it?" she asks, anger tingeing her words.
"Because...oh hell..."
"Mulder...this isn't like your not wanting to talk about buying him a sex toy. This is more like...well...it's more like trying to leave me out...at least that's how it makes me feel," she interrupts, her mouth growing tight.
I shut my eyes for a moment and count to 10. I know she's right. Walter did leave her out and so did I when it comes right down to it. I should have said something. I might have if she hadn't been shot. Of course that's only an excuse too, really. I had suspicions that Walter was having doubts before the Fourth of July and deflected some of her questions then. Shit, shit. shit. I open my eyes and look at her, the distress plainly evident on my face.
"You're right. Absolutely. We talked about it and we should have talked about it with you. One of us should have said something. But if I tell you now..."
"Ok, look," she stops me with a little caress, her brow smoothing slightly. "I realize what you said about things being about only two of us or whatever. That makes sense. I also know that both of you...no matter how it might annoy me...have this idea I need to be protected sometimes. Walter, especially is cognizant of not wanting to hurt me," she begins.
"Guilty as charged," I interject, giving her a sheepish smile.
"Yes, well...it's not like I don't mother you guys too. So, I do understand where you're coming from in this situation. I'm going to let this go right now. We don't have to discuss it again until after Crossroads. But I meant what I said. From now on if Walter or you are going to discuss something that impacts me behind my back...think twice about it. I don't think it's fair...and I'm going to make sure Walter knows that as well."
I nod.
"Well if it's any consolation...I think he knows it isn't fair. It's part of what he wants to tell you. And really, Scully...everything's fine...you...you have nothing to worry about and I think you're going to have a great time up in Maine," I reply, stroking her fingers.
She smiles a little. "I know it couldn't be all bad news...Walter did finally mention that if I was amenable - he'd invite you up as well."
"And are you amenable?" I ask, giving her my best hurt puppy look.
"Mulder!" she snorts half in exasperation and half in amusement.
I pull a longer face and she finally just cracks up, her anger lifting.
"Oh Lord...how can I resist that face," she giggles. "Both of you...I swear to God, I'm bedding two adolescents."
I laugh and kiss her cheek.
"Thanks...Mom."
"God, you asshole," she laughs and hugs me. My hard cock is shoved up against her stomach.
"Oh oh...there's some more of that adolescence...uh...rearing its head," I quip. She grins and takes my hand, pulling it between her folds. She's wet and I smile wide into her mischievous eyes.
"It must be a time warp, Mulder...in fact...I think it's tomorrow already," she purrs, arching her hips and spreading her legs slightly.
"Well to coin a phrase, 'Let's do the time warp, again," I murmur, taking my cock in hand and thrusting into her with one steady buck of my hips.
xXx
Tuesday, August 24, 1999. 1:15 PM. A park near the Hoover building.
I'm standing next to the fountain, in the sculpture decorated alcove that has become our regular meeting spot. I paged Walter at 12:30 to give him the bad news. I'm going to have to break our date for this weekend because...surprise...I've been assigned to another VCS case.
Yeah, Kersh has loaned me out. Bright and early tomorrow morning I'll be flying to Louisville, Kentucky, to help investigate the beheadings of what now numbers four little old ladies. Wonderful. I think Kersh is doing this to try to break me. I really do. At any rate, Walter and I are a no-go and I thought he at least deserved a face to face explanation instead of hearing it second-hand. Also...I just...well I just needed to see his face before another descent into hell for God knows how long.
I crane my neck past the sculpture and finally spot him, striding towards me. The sun glints off his glasses so I can't see his eyes, but from the set of his mouth and shoulders he knows something's up. Shit, he probably knows anyway. Like I said - second-hand information. News travels fast through the Hoover corridors - especially bad news involving yours truly.
Yeah...I objected slightly when Kersh called me in to assign me. There were raised voices. The only thing that got me under control was a vision of Walter warning me to stay in Kersh's good graces. Today I heeded that vision...but much more of this and I'm not sure I'll be able to keep doing it. But before I got myself under control I'm sure the two agents waiting outside to see Kersh got an earful. The rest of the Hoover, including my lover, would probably have gotten the news sooner or later.
Walter walks purposely up to my side.
"I heard," he comments brusquely.
I nod and we sit down in the secluded alcove.
"I also heard you managed to hold your temper," he rumbles, shifting his weight and looking around to make sure no one is paying any attention to us. I glance around as well, notice no one either, and still facing front, reply quietly.
"Must have been the impartial grapevine this time," I comment wryly. "Usually it's 'Spooky lost it again'," I add, glancing at him.
Walter gives a terse twitch of his lips, still facing forward as well. Both of us continue to scan the crowd as we converse.
"Well Agent Monroe and Kim are an item right now I gather. They had lunch after he got done meeting with Kersh. She got the whole story out of him."
"Monroe? Was that the tall, blonde guy who looks like Woody Harrelson or the muscular black guy who looks like Dion Saunders?"
"The black guy."
"Ah," I nod. "Well at any rate...I guess that means we're off for this weekend."
"Doubly so," he replies.
For the first time I look into his face. The sun glints off his glasses again. His jaw is tense but I can't see his eyes.
"What?" I ask, concerned.
"I have to go back to Atlanta. Things there are still a royal clusterfuck. So, I need to knock some more heads together," he answers with a sigh.
"Oh man...that...I'm sorry, Walter," I reply. He really had a rough trip the first time around. Tempers were stretched to the maximum between the local bureau office and the Atlanta PD. I don't envy him having to go down there again. He doesn't need the aggravation.
He shrugs and answers.
"Comes with the territory. When I moved up in Hoover's army...well you know the drill, babe."
I nod and touch his thigh.
"I know. And you know why they send you too, don't you?" I ask, smiling a little.
He looks back at me and raises an eyebrow in answer.
"They send you because you're the best, Walter. You'll settle it all fairly and with as little fuss as possible. For what it's worth...you're successful, they know it, and you get all the shit work as a result.
"Kind of a Catch 22 isn't it?" he rumbles a laugh.
"No shit."
He lays his hand over mine for a brief moment and then both of us quickly pull our hands away.
"So, you're leaving tomorrow morning?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"Me too," I answer, sighing.
"Scully know yet?" he asks, watching my face again for my reaction.
"Does she know about you going to Atlanta?"
"No. I haven't had time to call her either."
"I'll have to call her tonight about it. She's going to go ballistic," I reply with resignation.
"I should call her..." he sighs.
"Walter, I'll tell her. You might as well let me fuck up her evening," I reply in disgust.
Walter looks at his hands for a moment and then back up at me.
"Tell her to call me if she needs to vent," he mumbles.
I nod.
Scully's going to hate hearing that Walter and I are being pulled in so many different directions. And despite the pain in the ass nature of that fact, she's also going to hate the idea that she's not part of the action. Inactivity is difficult for Scully in the best of times. Right now, with Walter and I being jerked around as much as we are I know she'd want to be helping out. She's champing at the bit to get back to work anyway. She told me as much when we talked about Kersh.
Scully's not sure Kersh is deliberately trying to break me with these VCS cases. I can see her point. I just wish I could believe it. But, in any event, she doesn't like me going on them and her being needlessly upset pisses me off.
"I'll make sure she knows. She'll probably need to let off some steam," I agree.
Walter squares his shoulders a little.
"Mulder...she'll be ok. She's tougher than either one of us think," he comments. His words sound as if they're as much to convince himself he believes that idea as to convince me. When Scully said he doesn't like to see her hurt she hit the nail right on the head.
"Yeah...but...I just...well...I just rather she not be stressed right now," I answer, shrugging.
"I know," he replies, looking off into the distance again. "Neither...neither do I," he adds quietly. Then he clears his throat.
"Listen...uh...I have some other news..." he begins.
"What?" I ask as he glances at me. He faces forward again and answers, his words coming after a bit of hesitation.
"Something's up with Spender and Fowley as well. The X-Files are...the solve rate for the department is way down."
"No shit," I interrupt. He glances at me again, this time with annoyance for the interruption.
"Sorry," I reply, contritely.
He nods a little and continues.
"Spender has been...circular filing cases. The few cases he does take are wrapped up neatly with a logical explanation - usually with no arrests. In short...he's down there playing with himself."
"And Diana?" I ask carefully.
I try not to let the hope mixed with dread into my voice. Diana and I were friends once. I always hold out that our friendship meant something. I know our love affair ended acrimoniously however so I suspect...Walter's answer interrupts my reverie.
"She made a token effort at first. Now...I think she's mostly paying lip service to the idea she's investigating the uh...paranormal. But she's largely ineffective and Spender seems to be running the show."
I sigh and rub my forehead a little.
"Shit," I mumble. "So, I take it you have some good news in here somewhere?" I add, looking back at his profile.
"Not everyone's happy he's jerking off, Mulder. Freeh's noticed it. So, give it some time. There may be some action here before long," he replies, glancing at me.
"But don't get too optimistic?" I ask.
He shrugs.
"Freeh's fair. If he makes a mistake he's not afraid to own up to it."
I close my eyes for a second, nod and then open them again.
"Ok. I'll...I'll keep my fingers crossed that Freeh lives up to your assessment of his character. And....thanks Walter. I know you're doing whatever you can."
"No problem," he replies, the corner of his mouth twitching up a bit.
"So, you going to be ok?" I ask him.
He looks at me again.
"Yeah. You?"
I look away and set my shoulders.
"I'll manage," I answer. It's not going to be easy but...I'm determined to cope. Fuck. I won't let Kersh, or Spender either for that matter, get the best of me. No way in hell. I have to stay strong to get this cretin who's chopping up helpless old women. I have to stay strong for Walter and Scully too. I turn back to Walter. "There's no fucking way I won't."
Walter nods curtly.
"Damn straight, babe," he growls.
I smile a little. He has such a drill sergeant demeanor sometimes. I love it though. I kid him about it sometimes but Walter's hard nose strength can be a real moral, back building booster on occasion. Right now it's making me feel like I can do just about anything.
"I'll miss you," I whisper.
"I'll miss you too," he replies, coughing to cover his emotion.
I glance at my watch, he notices and starts to get up.
"I have to get back too," he remarks, smoothing the front of his pants down as he rises.
"Ok. I'll call you when I can," I reply, rising as well.
"Sounds good. And Mulder..."
"Yeah?"
"You know that Catch 22 analogy?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, it applies to you too, babe. You're the best, bar none. It's why we keep sending you. It's not necessarily vindictiveness on Kersh's part. An AD uses the top resources available..." he lets his voice trail off and he looks off across the park towards the Hoover.
I know what he's thinking. He's thinking of all the times he sent me off on VCS consults. I know he believes what he just said. I suppose he could be right about Kersh. Because really, I am the best. It sounds like egotism I guess...but...well...I do get my maniac. The solve rate statistics are a matter of public record. Walter was always pragmatic about sending me out. He hated it but as he said - whatever it takes. In that respect, I do agree with him.
"I understand, Walter. Don't...don't worry about it. And hell...I'll give Kersh the benefit of the doubt. You've got a point. I mean if someone did a Mary Queen of Scots on your grannie I guess you'd want the best chance at bagging the ax man."
Walter refocuses on me and gives a gruff chuckle.
"You have such a way with words," he replies acerbically.
I grin a little.
"I'll be in touch," I reply.
"Right," he replies, giving me a small smile.
Walter pauses to scan the park one last time. I admire his rough hewn profile for a moment. He gives me a final nod, turns and strides off at last. He doesn't look back as I stand with my hands in my pockets. I watch his back as he moves down the sidewalk. He carries himself ramrod straight. There's pride in that posture and I straighten my shoulders further in response. I feel pride to know this man. I feel privileged to share my life with him.
xXx
Tuesday, August 24, 1999. 9 PM. Viva Towers. Crystal City, Virginia.
"Skinner"
"I called to vent."
"Is he over there or did he call you?"
"He called since he has an early flight tomorrow. Damn it, Walter...what the hell is going on in Atlanta?"
"Oh...uh...this isn't a call about Mulder going to Kentucky?"
"Walter...I once told Mulder that everything wasn't about him. This is an instance when that's the case. Besides...we just got done flogging Kentucky to death...he's going to be fine with it. He's concerned about your going to Atlanta and so am I. So...are you all right?"
"Dana...I'm...I'll be fine. This is more or less routine if you can call poor Bureau relations with any local law enforcement body routine. We've got a...personnel and public relations problem in Atlanta so they're sending me in again to finish mopping it up."
"Mulder told me the family of that detective is suing the FBI."
"That's correct. That's why I'm going back down there. I would imagine I'll be sitting in on an OPR hearing at some juncture here as well. Unfortunately one of the agents assigned from DC was negligent. The other...in my opinion...the other agent from DC's a hero. There's still some debate about the culpability of the local Bureau agents. Of course there should be an Atlanta PD internal affairs investigation as well so we'll see where that's going to go."
"Good Lord."
"At any rate...Scully...it'll work out. It's not like this isn't something I deal with on a regular basis."
"True. Still...are you sure you're going to be all right?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Oh for God's sake...you sound just like Mulder."
"Christ...it must be rubbing off. But listen...I'm glad you care, Dana. It makes me feel...sometimes I like being cared for I guess. Anyway...I appreciate it a lot."
"Somebody has to watch out for you two."
"I'll remember that the next time you complain that I'm babying you, woman."
"Point taken. Look, Mulder told me about Spender as well. Walter...is there really any hope there? Mulder...Mulder's trying so hard to keep all this in perspective. It's...I'm rather surprised he's taking it so well. But...I don't know how long he..."
"Yeah, I know. I'd say something's going to break soon, yeah. I hope to hell it does anyway. All the signs..."
"Walter...I know you're doing everything..."
"Fuck it! Mulder keeps saying the same God damn thing, Dana. 'I know you're doing whatever you can, Walter'. Oh, yeah? Fuck me. I haven't...I...Jesus I wish...I wish I could do..."
"Walter, it's ok...come on...please...it's..."
"I'm sorry...I...Christ, Dana....I didn't mean to...snap at you."
"Don't...don't worry about it. Under the circumstances..."
"I shouldn't have barked at you. Maybe...maybe this is getting to me. I guess that was my turn to let off some steam. I really apologize."
"Hey, really...it's ok. You should have heard Mulder and I ranting earlier. Don't worry about it. Besides...we're all going to be taking some time off soon. We can regroup then...together."
"What?"
"I said we can all regroup together in Maine."
"You're going?"
"I wouldn't miss it, Walter. You and I can go up together and then later I think it would be good to invite Mulder up too. Walter...I can really use the time with you both."
"God, woman...I...yeah, me too. And thanks. I mean it, lover. Thanks...well thanks for everything."
"You're most welcome. Now...you take care of yourself. I don't want you eating boxes of Pepcid AC in Atlanta or up in Crossroads."
"Yes, ma'am. Duly noted."
"Good. Now I'd better let you go. I'm sure you've got to get up early as well."
"I do. I'll call you from Atlanta."
"I'd like that, Walter."
"Ok. Good night then. I love you."
"I love you too."
xXx
Saturday, September 11, 1999. 9 PM. Outside the Viva Towers. Crystal City, Virginia.
"You have your keys?" Walter asks.
"Yeah," I reply from the seat next to him.
"Go on up. I'll park the Jeep," Walter suggests as he pulls up to the curb. He brings the Jeep to a stop and turns to me.
I lean over and kiss him on the lips, sucking in his tongue for a second before I release him.
"Don't be long," I reply huskily when I release his mouth.
"No way," he rumbles a chuckle. His pupils are already dilated, I can see it even through his lenses. I smile, open the car door and make my way quickly towards the building's entrance.
Boy we really need this night. It's been a hellacious three weeks. My weekend with Scully, and she and Walter finalizing their plans for the Maine trip were the last good things that happened for us. Well, Scully's been doing great as far as her recovery. But, she's been gnashing her teeth over what Walter and I are going through. There's just been...well it's been a bastard of a three weeks to put it politely.
First, there was that second VCS loan out. If Kersh does mean to break me with those, this one didn't qualify as a back breaker at all. The case turned out to be solved hours after my feet hit the tarmac in Louisville, Kentucky. I went down to the local Bureau office...was looking at the crime scene photos and the perp was brought in. He confessed to beheading four elderly women, so it was a done deal and I came home. Of course, Walter had gone back to Atlanta to deal with the repercussions for that drug bust and the ensuing lawsuit. More head knocking. Walter was gone a whole week on that one.
Ok, and then...I'll admit it...I took a little trip on my own. An X-Files related solo encounter of the weird kind near Little Rock, Arkansas. After Walter told me Spender was circular filing cases...well let's just say I resurrected one of them and it took me to Arkansas.
I ended up calling Scully in for a forensic consult on the case. I tried to get her to give me an opinion over the phone based on e-mailed evidence reports but she wouldn't have it. I think besides a genuine willingness to help, the inactivity was getting to her. At any rate, she flew out, looked at the remains and said the victim had been burned after he was dead. We discovered that instead of the "evil" fire sacrificing demonic cultists that were supposed to be in the area, it was really some asshole who found his elderly father dead, didn't report it, and then covered up the death by trying to burn the body in the family barbecue pit. Oh yeah, he covered up the death so he could still collect the old man's social security checks. The only problem was - the stink from the burning automatically made the neighbors on the farm next door think the guy was a demon worshipping...well you get the idea.
Scully flew back immediately and I stayed on an extra day to anonymously alert the authorities on the social security fraud. Scully was exhausted afterwards, Margaret yelled at me and yanked Scully to her place for a few days. Scully yelled at me because she had to put up with Byers mooning after her mom, and then Walter yelled at me for sneaking off to Little Rock and dragging Scully out there. Oh yeah, one good thing did happen. Kersh never did tweak to the fact that I ran off to Arkansas. I was lucky for once there. I called in sick, had the LGM cover for me with a little electronic phone diversion and mail pick-up, and paid for my and Scully's trip out-of-pocket.
Naturally Walter and I decided to schedule our special date as soon as the first open opportunity presented itself. Yeah...we couldn't stay mad at each other for long. Scully said we needed to kiss and make-up and we agreed. After all...she'd done the same thing with me...while Walter was in Atlanta. So, Walter and I arranged to get together this weekend.
Both of us had business on Friday - Walter with the OPR hearing that resulted from the Atlanta drug bust. I had my own business with the background checks I'd fallen behind on while I was in Kentucky and Arkansas. Walter's Friday stretched into Saturday morning and he slept in. I came over late in the afternoon and we went to dinner together at Club 219.
Now...we're back at the apartment for our evening of...play. When I came over in the afternoon I brought my duffel with the supplies I got from Good Vibrations inside. Walter said he'd wait until tonight to see the toys. He wanted the anticipation to ratchet up his arousal. I have to say it worked admirably. They had a band at Club 219 tonight. When we danced I could feel his hard-on pressing into mine.
So, here I am now, making my way carefully to Walter's apartment door so I won't be observed, unlocking the door quickly and stepping inside.
While I wait for Walter to come in from the parking garage, I shuck my jacket. I go up to the bedroom and hang the jacket up in the closet. My next objective is to fix us each a brandy and then get the rest of the night's atmosphere ready. I want to make this a very special night for Walter. A fulfilling of his long held fantasy and a night we'll both remember in a pleasant way for a long time.
I'm in the living room, filled brandy snifters on the coffee table, when I hear the key in the front door lock. Walter opens up the door, comes in and smiles at me.
"Thanks," he comments, inclining his head towards the coffee table.
I saunter up to the entryway and stand near him as he starts to remove his suit coat.
"Allow me," I offer, as he slips it off. He raises an eyebrow as I take his coat from him. "Tonight's for you, Walter. Consider yourself...the center of attention. I'm going to spoil you, lover. So, relax and enjoy the experience," I whisper, capturing his eyes.
His lips twitch a smile and he hands me the coat with alacrity.
"I'll do my best to cooperate," he quips, dryly.
I smirk back at him.
"Go enjoy your brandy, 'Mr. Cooperative'. I'll be right back."
He rumbles a chuckle as I leave his side and head to the bedroom to hang up his coat.
When I return he's sitting on the couch, sipping the brandy. God he looks fantastic. He's got on that black turtleneck he bought recently. His long, muscular legs are encased in tweed tonight. Since the weather was cool he opted for the extra warmth the tweed would bring. I should have followed his example. The Dockers Khakis I wore were a little too lightweight. But at least I wore that navy blue wool sweater Scully gave me. But Walter had this whole English gentleman thing going and, man, it really got me going. Talk about warmth. I feel warm all over. I notice Walter's still semi-erect, the bulge evident as he shifts to get comfortable.
"Here you go," he says, picking up my brandy and handing it to me as I reach the couch.
"Thanks," I reply, seating myself next to him. I sniff the brandy, sip some and roll it around in my mouth. He watches me as I swallow.
"Good?" he asks.
"Delicious," I reply, nodding.
"JD sent it," he reveals, grinning at me.
"The Napoleon brandy? I thought I recognized the bouquet. That's great."
"Yeah, he thought we'd enjoy it. I'm going to get together with him and Esther after we get back from Crossroads. They're working on the wedding plans I gather," he observes, drinking some more of his brandy.
"Sylvia going to be out too?" I ask him.
He swallows and nods.
"Yeah, she and Roger and the boys are coming out as well. Big family pow-wow," he chuckles.
"Give them all my regards," I smile. Thinking of Sylvia and the boys gives me a light feeling in my heart. I really enjoyed being with them. The fact that they're a second family for me is particularly comforting right now in view of Teena's lack of understanding.
"Esther wants me to invite you for Thanksgiving...if you don't have any plans," Walter adds quietly.
"Really?" I reply with surprised pleasure.
"Yeah. They're looking forward to seeing you. Sylvia said Roger wants to meet you too."
"Wow...I...I don't know what to say," I murmur, putting my glass down on the coffee table.
"Do you have plans with Scully or with...your mother?" he asks carefully.
"Maggie has invited me for Christmas so I'll be with Scully. Mom and I don't do Christmas really. She...well she hasn't said anything about Thanksgiving yet."
"Well the offer stands. You're welcome to come. I can just bring you...they're planning for it just in case you can join us."
I nod, a tight sensation in my throat. I swallow hard to gain control. I will not weep. I absolutely refuse to weep...not tonight, damn it. But this is so kind I'm almost overcome and I certainly can't speak at this juncture. Walter puts his drink down and moves close, wrapping one large arm around my shoulders.
"It's ok," he murmurs. "I know."
I sigh and settle against him.
"This is your night, Walter...please....I...don't..."
"Shhh," he whispers. He strokes my hair and we sit like that for a few minutes.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I love you too," he replies quietly.
I clear my throat and raise up, smiling at him.
"I'd love to come for Thanksgiving. I'll see if I can pin my mother down soon," I finally reply.
"Sounds good," he replies, nodding matter-of-factly.
I straighten further.
"So...uh...you want another brandy?" I ask, indicating our glasses with my chin.
"Actually...I'd like to take a shower...I got kind of sweaty at Club 219. Probably shouldn't have worn the tweed," he replies, chuckling.
"Mind if I join you?" I reply, grinning myself.
"That was my plan," he replies, giving me a wolfish smile. Oh man...now I definitely feel better. I feel the heat of arousal spreading in my groin.
"The man with the plan," I answer, standing and reaching out my hand towards him.
Hand in hand, we leave the glasses on the coffee table this time and make our way up to the bedroom. I didn't have time to quite get everything set up, which is probably for the best since I didn't foresee the shower part of the scenario. So, the candles I'd planned on lighting aren't lit and the overhead light's on as we enter the bedroom. The large beach towel is over the comforter in anticipation of an oil massage and the ton of lube I know we'll be using later. Walter notices the candles spread about and chuckles.
"Did you tell Scully what we were doing?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Not precisely. I just said we had a romantic evening planned and she suggested the candles. I'm giving you a rub-down too. We can dispense with the oil, but the massage will relax you and you need to be relaxed and receptive," I inform him.
"I like this more by the minute," he smiles. "I'll have to thank Scully later," he adds.
We strip naked in a fairly business-like fashion and take care of putting our clothing away. The last thing Walter takes off is his medallion. He places it carefully on the dresser and turns to me. Both of us are obviously excited. We're on our way to very healthy erections. But we're also a little nervous. If we weren't I think we'd both be a lot harder. We'd also just throw the clothes on the floor and start going at it. I take a deep breath and smile at Walter.
"Nervous?" I ask sympathetically. I move over and take his hand in mine again, stroking his fingers.