CATEGORY: SARH

RATING: NC-17, and I mean it. This story contains VERY GRAPHIC SEXUAL SITUATIONS AND LANGUAGE, AND SLASH. So, if you don't like graphic stuff - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed.

SUMMARY: Greetings. This is a story dealing with Walter Skinner, Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and an incident in a motel in Pennsylvania. It's Skinner's story but it's also about one possible relationship with his agents and it's implications and consequences. FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? I use them to roast weenies, hamburgers and Italian sausages on the grill.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING.: This season probably.

KEYWORDS: story angst romance humor Skinner Mulder Scully NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and Walter Skinner 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 note: Feel free to archive this wherever you'd like. Just make sure my addy stays on it - thank you. 

The Night Inn
by frogdoggie 

"Mulder, didn't I ask you to please put the toilet seat down?" 

"I'm writing it down right now in my report notes, Scully. No more rooms at *The Pines*. I made a big, black star right next to the notation." 

"Well, come out and see." 

"Mulder! Unless you've discovered a new talent for that thing, I don't believe you could have made any notes in your report." 

"Hey, the pen in mightier than the sword." 

"I hardly think that qualifies as a pen, Mulder." 

"Pencil?" 

"Well, a sword maybe. But in any event, it seems to have a mind of it's own." 

"No argument there. But how about a quill?" 

"That would tickle." 

"Oh yeah, I like that idea." 

"You do?" 

"Yes!" 

"Well come over here and show me how much." 

"Oh GGGGod!" 

"Well you're just as noisy!" 

"I am not." 

"You're not? You can't even say that with a straight face." 

"Well, I'll turn on the TV to disguise the sound then." 

"Yeah, there's an idea. And if you want us both to keep quiet..." 

"Mulder, what are you...Oh Lord. What? Both of us...you mean the other way....Oh my..." 

xXx 

I hate symposiums, conferences, whatever you want to call them. Well, not hate, maybe that's too strong a word. They annoy me. There, that's more exact. But, I have only myself to blame for attending this particular symposium. All right, every once in a while you do a favor for a friend and it turns out to be less than favorable for you. This would be a case in point. Would it ever be. Oh yes. 

But, when Jim Moriarity called from Temple University I knew I was sunk. I can still hear his voice over the phone. 

"Walter Skinner, how the hell are you?" 

"Jim?" 

"Yes, this is Jim, James Moriarity, it's been a long time Sinner." 

No Shit, Professor, I thought. Yeah, James Moriarity as in Professor Moriarity, criminal genius and arch enemy of Sherlock Holmes. Hence the nickname. And Sinner? Well, we all had our nicks in Nam. John "Cracker" Rand, my best friend, gave me mine after I stopped attending services with the chaplain. Blowing the head off that Vietnamese kid loaded down with grenades had something to do with that decision. No one seemed to mind not seeing me on my knees in prayer though. Not even the skinny chaplain from Nebraska. Cracker minded least of all. He passed another joint and said, "Well, Waltuh, ain't you just the unrepentant sinner now." John pronounced it Sinnuh though, just like he pronounced Walter as Waltuh. Cracker was from Georgia you see. 

But speaking of joints. That's how I got to know The Professor. Jim's gig was supply. And he did. The best weed *In Country*. Ok, I smoked dope, yeah and I inhaled too. I'm not going to make any excuses. Well, maybe just one. Try watching a 10 year old kid's brains splatter all over the ground and see if you don't toke a little loco weed yourself. So, Jim got us the best dope this side of the Golden Triangle. You could find your own fucking Bermuda Triangle on the shit he sold, and that's a fact Jack. 

Jim wasn't in our platoon of course. Lucky for him. If he had been he'd be dead. Ambushed by VC and sent back to base in a body bag just like Cracker, God rest his poor Georgia boy soul. At least I hope he's resting with God. I'd pray that he is anyway - if I could remember how. But, I digress. 

Anyway, Jim Moriarity was a good friend too. He visited me every day I was in the MASH unit. After I was wounded, I didn't get many visitors. Well, none really, so he stood out. Most guys avoided me like the friggin' plague. I was verboten. Bad luck. The only lucky fucker who had survived the massacre of his whole platoon. No one wanted to get too close in case in some perverse way, my so called good luck would translate into bad luck for them. Everyone had their superstitions in Nam. I was one for everyone. Walter S. *Sinner instead of Sergei* Skinner, the living dead man. Avoid that poor fucker at all costs unless you want some of his bad mojo to rub off on you. 

But not Jim. Maybe it was because he was in supply and behind combat lines. But maybe not. Plenty of guys behind the lines died in Nam. I mean, shit, there really wasn't any *behind the lines* over there. Hey, maybe he wasn't superstitious or maybe he was so stoned most of the time he didn't give a shit. Whatever. At any rate, Jim never avoided me. Jim would drop by to see me even while I was laying dead to the conscious world with a bunch of tubes running out of every conceivable orifice. He was one of the first people I saw when I woke up. Yeah, Jim was a great guy. So, when he called and asked me for this one favor what the hell was I going to say? "Screw off Jim? I hate doing talks at colleges?" Yeah right. 

Jim is a real Professor now. I swear on my framed portrait of Janet Reno. He teaches law at Temple University. Ambler, Pennsylvania. Every year he gives sort of a career - law in the real world - practical applications symposium. Guess what his focus was on this year? Yeah - The Bureau. Jim was so excited at the prospect of having his old army buddy, the Assistant Director in charge of Criminal Investigation thank you very much, on hand to pump up the troops. He was gushing enthusiasm over the phone. 

"Walter, I'd really appreciate it if you could come down and be our keynote speaker. It would be fantastic. And Christ, I'd like to see you. We've...well we haven't stayed in touch and I'm sorry about it, my man." 

"I'm sorry too Jim," I answered. And in a way I was sorry. As a rule I don't like to talk about the war for obvious reasons. But it would be nice to see The Professor again. If nothing else to re-hash all the fine primo hash we'd gotten wasted on. The high old times as the saying goes. 

"This would be a walk in the park, actually, Walter. You know - just talk about the FBI. Give the students an idea of what you do. What the agents under you do. How to get into the Bureau. Why it's a great career - the usual pep talk type stuff. You know what I mean?" 

"Right. Exactly. I'd owe you one man. You still have family in the area anyway, don't you? You could make it a dual purpose trip." 

I hadn't seen my Mother in a while. It's just one of those things. Both of us have our own lives. She's very civic. I'm very anal. You know how it is. Neither one of us seems to have the time for each other anymore. We talk on the phone maybe once a month. I haven't seen her face to face in two years. And then I hadn't gone home to see her. She'd flown to DC. My younger sister I haven't seen in 3 years. I love her but she's got a lot going on with her family. Gee whiz, her kids haven't seen Uncle Walter in a coon's age. Yeah, well that's one reason I haven't seen my sister Sylvia and her husband Roger, the fireman. Her kids are monsters. Roger's the other fucking reason. The guys a goon. But yeah, I'm overdue on the family visit obligation thing. It would be another item I could use with the Director when I pitched the prospect of my attending this symposium. I can hear him now, "Why yes, Walter, by all means go see your family. You haven't taken a vacation in 2 years anyway." Pu-lease! Blow me. 

At any rate, I told Jim that my schedule wasn't too bad at the moment. I only hoped it wouldn't go down the porcelain filing cabinet in the next month or so. I could speak to the Director and see if the trip was a possibility. The old man would love the PR too. With some of the debacles the Bureau has been involved in lately a little good PR would be welcome. I gave Jim my best guess that it would be a go. I'd get back to him on the confirmation as soon as possible. Then he dropped the bombshell. 

"Oh and by the way, Walter (Oh yeah, right, I just happened to forget this little point). Part of this symposium deals with the FBI and the popular media. We'll be discussing programs like, *The Profiler,* and that idiotic show *Millennium* - you know the shows where people get into the minds of serial killers. Anyway, I'd like to contrast those shows with how that works in the real world, Walter. Sometimes I get the feeling these kids watch too much TV even at this age. I think they need a reality check once in a while." 

"Really, Jim?" I asked. I was getting more suspicious by the second. I smelled a rat, a very dead, odiferous rat. I didn't like the direction this conversation was taking one bit. 

"Yes. So, I have another favor to ask. I understand that you have one of the top profiler's at the Bureau working for you, Walter. In fact he's supposed to be *THE* Best. Numero Uno. What's his name, Marder?" 

I was really doing the old jaw clench by this time. Piss up a rope. My fucking fillings were grinding. 

"Mulder. Fox Mulder." 

"That's him. What's the chance of getting Mulder up here, Walter? I know it's a lot to ask but..." 

"Well, it *is* a lot to ask, Jim. Agent Mulder is...well he hasn't been in VCS, uh, I mean the Violent Crimes Section for a long time. He's part of a two Agent team now in...in an area of very special investigations. He only does profiles when I assign him on consults. He's usually very busy with his own casework." 

My gut reaction? My idea of a relaxing vacation was not going to be visiting my family and dragging Mulder's ass up to Pennsylvania for this symposium. There wasn't enough Pepcid AC in the world to make that trip survivable. 

"Yeah, but I'm sure he hasn't lost his touch. I read an article on him a while back that said he was a genius. Guys like that don't lose it just because they don't use it." 

I actually laughed at his comment. Yeah, if you said anything about Mulder I guess you could say he hadn't lost his abilities as a profiler. In fact he'd almost lose it, as in his mind, every time he did a consult for VCS. I almost hated sending him on them. Almost, but not quite. Not quite because the son of a bitch got results. It was preternatural, a friggin' X-File in itself, when Mulder was after a serial killer. No, he hadn't lost his touch. Probably never would. 

"You're right, Jim. Mulder is the best. Look. I'll see what I can do." 

"Great! Now if you just knew someone as good in forensic pathology as Mulder is in profiling we'd be all set. I'm having a hell of a time locating someone to talk about pathology. Everyone's too busy cutting up corpses I guess." Jim gave a little chuckle over the phone and my stomach was doing the acid reflux rumba with every tinny chortle. 

Wonderful. Of course I knew if Mulder went along, the prospects for getting Dana Scully to go were a lot more high. Two for the price of one so to speak since they were practically joined at the hip anyway. Shit, did that prove to be more than accurate. 

And as for Dana Scully...Besides being A BBB. OK - sexist slang around here for Beautiful Broad with Brains (or if you want to be uncharitable Brassy Bitch with Balls), she is the best forensic pathologist I've seen in a long time. Scully is also extremely professional and being a woman would be an excellent choice to have at the symposium. Her very presence would say - Hey look at the FBI! We're equal opportunity employers! I *knew* that would give the Director an orgasm. Yeah, I could get Dana Scully to go along too. 

"What if I told you I could get you the best forensic pathologist I know?" 

"It just so happens that Mulder's partner, Agent Dana Scully is a Doctor of forensic pathology. She's even taught classes at Quantico on the subject. Would you be interested in having her speak?" 

"Would I ever. Fantastic - and a woman too. That'll make the University happy as well. Balance the ticket so to speak." 

"Well, yeah. I think asking to take her along may grease the wheels here too." 

"I hate playing these PC games, Walter. But it's a fact of academia nowadays." 

"A fact of life here too, Jim, unfortunately." God, if he only knew the shit that went on here. He'd be scared out of his academic mind., "Politics and who you know or who you're fucking. The usual." 

"Seems like a sad world doesn't it Sinner?" 

Sad. Shit. I guess you could say that for sure. I see more unending sadness every day of the week. More agony than most civilians see in a year. But I wasn't going to tell Jim any of that self-indulgent crap. Stuff like that sounds so defeatist even if it is true. I didn't want to let the conversation end on that moribund note either. 

"Look, Jim. Let me see what I can do about getting myself and my two agents up there at the end of next month. I appreciate you giving us a call this far in advance. It should help. I can try to arrange things here. Being that the conference is only a Saturday and Sunday should help too. We could fly in on Friday morning early so I can visit my family and then leave Monday. It's feasible. I'll let you know." 

"Fantastic Walter. Like I said, I owe you Sinner." 

"Well, we'll talk about that when I see you," I said chuckling a bit. 

"I guess I won't be paying in weed though, hey Walter? Those days are long gone aren't they?" 

Longer than you could ever know Jim, I thought. 

"Hell yes, Professor." He made me laugh really hard that time. Point for the old Professor. Just the thought of how much dope I'd toked during my tour of duty made me want to laugh so hard I'd puke, "But it'll be good to shoot the shit with you anyway, buddy. We have a lot to catch up on." I said. 

"You've got that right. I'll wait to hear if you're coming up." 

"All right. I'll be in touch." Click. 

If I had only known..... 

"Yes, Walter, I think the PR opportunities would be excellent. And besides - when was your last vacation?"

See, what did I tell you? The Director is somewhat predictable at times. On Friday when I took the blue covered file folder up there and gave him the rundown on the major cases I slipped in the request to speak at the symposium. The only concerns he had regarded Mulder. He wanted to know if I could keep him on leash. 

Well fuck you *Sir*. God, I get so sick of hearing that "Spooky" nickname in tandem with the words loose cannon, maverick or worse yet - psycho nutcase. I wish they'd cut the guy some slack once in a while. I should talk though. How many times have I chewed him a new asshole lately? Well, at any rate. The trip was approved without too much difficulty. Now I just had to call Mulder and Scully into my office and give them the happy news. 

xXx 

"Scully do you have any idea what he wants?" Mulder asked Scully as her fingers flew over her computer keyboard. 

"No. This report isn't even due until tomorrow. He just called down here and asked to see us both in his office at 4 o'clock. I have no idea why. He didn't sound angry or anything. He sounded calm, even a little friendly." Scully replied looking up at him over her glasses. 

"No Mulder. Give me a break. You should know better by now...I'm not the one who usually pisses off the A.D." 

"Yeah I guess I *should* know," Mulder smiled at her. Scully's face softened towards him instantly. She smiled back. 

They knew a lot more about each other now Mulder thought warmly. After that night in the cheap motel on the road when they had finally really talked to each other. When they had finally gotten it all out in the open. When they had laid bare their feelings, their dreams, their hopping hormones, and then just laid bare together. The fact that after five years of lonely hot and horny nights and endless stimulating conversations between Mr. Hand and Mr. Johnson, Fox Mulder was finally going to score with Dana Scully. And she was making the first move! The earth moved as well. And boy did it shift off it's axis. 

God! The sex had been absolutely mind blowing. The no holes barred, hump till you hurt, up against the wall and assume the position so we can fuck each other senseless. Yes please, and thank you sir, can I have another? Yes ma'am you certainly can. The kind of sex that you can really call making love because you want to give your heart and soul to the one person you know you'll be spending the rest of your life with or die if you don't. The only woman. The only man. The other half that makes you feel whole at last. 

No, there wasn't much else they could hide from each other now. Not even how much they enjoyed making love. Ever since that night in the motel they'd had sex every chance they could get. They'd screwed at his apartment, her apartment, in cars, and once even at her Mother's house when Margaret Scully was away for the week and Dana was house sitting for her. But nothing beat the banging they did on the road. Something about a cheap motel bed, or shower stall, or floor, or a dresser. 

"Mulder, I don't think he knows. If he did he would have sounded angry. He didn't." Scully smiled back at Mulder. His thoughts were so plain to see, "And you'd better wipe that goofy grin off your face, too Agent Mulder. Otherwise Skinner *is* going to think something's up. Remember the rule." 

"Oh yeah, *The Rule*," Mulder grinned. 

"God he looks so handsome today," Scully thought. She had all she could do not to lock the door and then throw him over his desk. She'd ball his brains out in a minute. When she thought of the five years she hadn't had the guts to get him in bed she could almost kick herself. She could certainly hardly believe it now. To think what she'd been missing. Talk about wasted days and wasted nights. God, girl. And now, she'd fuck him every chance she got and beg for more. I've just turned into a total slut she thought. And you know what? I don't give a shit. He's the most incredible fuck. And besides that I love the big goof. I'd die without him. I'm not complete without Mulder in my life, any longer. Totally in my life. I'll be damned if I'll let anything screw us up now. Screw us up. Oh God. Help me Mother Mary. 

So - they had developed *The Rule* to handle just this type of situation. *The Rule* that said *No relationship in the office*. They needed to keep up some pretext of decorum. Some protocol. They'd have to if they wanted to get anything done. It kept their minds off their bodies and on business so they maintained their high solve rate. If their solve rate dropped Skinner *would* start asking questions. 

So, they didn't discuss their relationship at work. There had to be no hint they were a couple. And for heaven's sake no office hanky panky either. They had been used to denying their feelings for years so this was actually easier than they thought it would be most of the time. Keeping up a professional exterior became important so no one would suspect they were fraternizing. The regs were very clear on that point. Get caught pumping your partner and you'd feel the door hitting your ass. 

Even their sex on the road was reserved for after the case was closed (well as closed as an X-File could get of course). The night before they were going to fly or drive home was usually spent in each other's arms. So far *The Rule* had worked well. Scully didn't see why it wasn't still working. Skinner had no idea they were in love much less involved in the horizontal bop. They were just too good at disguising their emotions. 

"Let's just go up to Skinner's office at 4 and not worry about it, all right?" she smiled at Mulder reassuringly. 

"Okie Dokie. I appreciate you transcribing the notes - these aren't quite up to typing yet?" he quipped lifting his taped fingers. 

"Yes. I guess it was lucky you shut your left hand in the car door wasn't it, Agent Mulder?" Scully retorted with a quick grin. 

"Hey, what are you implying there lady..." 

xXx 

I can still see Mulder's sour expression. "Pennsylvania? The end of October? I have Redskins tickets, sir. Have a heart." 

"You should know by now Agent Mulder, I don't have a heart. But, this isn't an order. It's a request. Jim Moriarity is an old army buddy. A very old friend. If I can help him out I will. But, neither you or Agent Scully is required to make this trip. I can call and make your excuses. I'll just tell Jim you'd rather watch the Redskins play." 

"Yeah, watch them in person for a change..." Mulder mumbled. 

"Oh, come on, Mulder. You know you can sell the tickets. You have tickets for November anyway. You can miss this game. The symposium might prove very worthwhile and interesting." Scully interjected. 

Dana Scully - bless her little professional heart. Mulder was giving her a look that said - *Thanks for backing me into a corner, partner.* She was totally impassive. She must be used to this bullheaded tendency in him now. It's been 5 years after all. 

I had presented my idea as a chance to mold young people's minds. A chance to show them how worthwhile and fulfilling work at the Bureau could be for them. OK - I only half believe that now. But I still do *half* believe it. And of course, Scully bit at that opportunity. She's not stupid or unobservant though. She alluded politely to the PR side of the matter too. And the fact that it would be very PC, a real coup, to have her in attendance. It's nice to see she has an idea of her valuable talents and her own self worth now. She's grown that way over the years.

But God damn Mulder. Come on you asshole I thought. I'm giving you a chance to get away from the office and relax for a change. An opportunity to look like the golden boy here for a minute. The favored son instead of J. Edgar's problem child. Get the hint, Mr. Perceptive Profiler? You dick. I swear...sometimes. Jesus.

Once again it was Scully to the rescue. "Don't you have family near Ambler, sir?"

I let my face slip into the blank, stony expression that I affect when I want my agents to either 1) get scared shitless that I'm going to ream them a new butt hole or 2) think I might be having a painful personal memory that I wouldn't possibly want them to know I'm having. I don't have feelings either as far as some of my agents are concerned. Of course, some of them think I suffer inside. My tight, unreadable look conveys that so well. Hell, maybe it's fucking true. Sometimes I'm not even sure anymore.

But the tactic works on men and women alike. Even Mulder. The look says, "Don't go there. Walter Skinner is having a Maalox moment about Nam, his ex-wife or his family. Whoa - does he have a family? But God, maybe the guy does have feelings. Maybe we'd better straighten up and fly right, give in, toe the line, etc. ad infinitum. After all, he's only human."

This tactic works really well on Dana Scully. She's really looking daggers at Mulder now. I almost feel sorry for him. Her eyes are saying, *You jerk. When do you think the last time was that HE had a vacation? Maybe this is just his way of getting out of the office. He can't even relax and see his family without combining it with Bureau business for God's sake. Don't argue. Just do it.*

And you know what? She was right. I did want to get out of the fucking office. In the back of my mind I did want to see my family - even Sylvia's three terrible pre-teens and her loutish husband. I was so desperate for the free time I was even willing to take Mulder and Scully along for the ride. I mean what does that tell you? Christ.

Mulder was pouting. But I could see the wheels turning. He'd accept, but I'd owe him. It would go unspoken now, but later I'd pay. Maybe he won't be on any VCS consults for a few months. Or maybe I'll be buying his fucking Skins tickets even though I won't be able to use them either and will have to sell them myself. Or more likely I'll have to look the other way when he ditches Scully and takes off for parts unknown on some new X-File. Shit. Well, so be it.

Mulder accepted. The deed was done. They walked out of my office and I was on the phone to Jim Moriarity in no time flat.

I was sort of looking forward to the trip at that point. Just goes to show how fate can play strange little tricks on you and conspire to change your mind. Well, you'll see what I mean eventually.

xXx

It was near quitting time when Mulder and Scully returned to the basement office.

"Thanks Scully! I'm really glad I'll be missing that Redskins game," Mulder sarcastically commented. He threw the file folder that had been lying on his desk into the file cabinet. He shoved the door forcefully shut.

Scully walked purposefully over to her desk and sat down on the edge of it. She crossed her arms.

"Listen, Mulder. Walter Skinner has never really asked us for a favor in five years. He hardly accepted our help that time he was accused of murder, for God's sake. And now when he wants to do a favor for an old friend and maybe just drop in on his Mother and Sister you're going to give him a hard time about it? Don't you realize how callous that sounds?"

Mulder turned from the file cabinet and crossed the room in three quick strides to stand in front of her. He placed his hands on his hips and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. He was angry. It was obvious. Scully stared up into his stormy hazel eyes. Her blue eyes flashed in defiance. Mulder spoke.

"Callous? Scully! Walter Skinner has specialized in having me bend over and assume the position for over 5 years now. The fact that he hasn't asked me to do him a favor before now is probably a good thing. It's saved me having to insult him when I refused his request. "Of course I did help him once if you count getting him out from under the thumb of a certain black lunged bastard," Mulder thought. "But I don't really count that because I had to discover he was in trouble on my own and it was like pulling hen's teeth. He didn't come to me for help," he added mentally.

"But how many times has he helped us, Mulder? How many times has he backed you up - especially recently?" Scully pressed the issue. Mulder's shoulders sagged and he stood flat on his feet at last. Then he nodded slightly and moved to sit carefully next to her on the desk. She shifted a bit to allow him to settle down next to her. Their thighs rubbed together and Scully felt herself grow instantly wet. Mulder was shifting around too. She knew what was going on with him. It was all too evident as he surreptitiously adjusted his pants. But *The Rule* will out she thought. At least it had better.

Mulder sighed. God. Now he had a boner. For crying out loud she could get him hard so fast. He pushed the thought out of his mind. He had to respect *The Rule*. He turned his big head away from his little head and back to the matter at hand.

Of course Scully was right. Skinner *had* backed them up. He'd gone out of his way to support them both over the years and even more in the last year or so. Mulder trusted him now. He respected him and considered him as close to a friend as he would ever have at the Bureau. Maybe as close as he would ever have to a friend period. If only the guy wasn't such a hard nosed, tight-assed by the book bastard so much of the time. He'd be a lot more easy to like. It might be more easy to do him a favor when he asked for one.

"All right, I concede, Scully. I know you're right. I should just shut up I guess. I don't know. I'm having a bad day or something. What the hell. And hey, how did you know his Mother and Sister lived near Ambler? I didn't even know he had a sister much less where she lives," he replied turning to study her profile.

Scully looked down at her hands, "Well that time Luis Cardinal shot him, he...he asked me to notify his family. Mulder I made two phone calls - one to his Mother, and one to his ex-wife. Sharon didn't even return the call. His Mother told me his sister was right there in her kitchen. She lived in the same town. So, I was able to notify them both at the same time. But his Mother acted like she hadn't seen him in a while. She just didn't seem too shaken that he had been shot. It was kind of sad. You know, I don't think he has anyone else, Mulder. His father's dead. I think he's pretty much alone in the world."

"Crap. I...I guess I never thought about him that way. I mean his being alone. I feel like a real shitheel now. I guess going to Ambler is the least I can do for him. Hell, that Redskins game isn't that important for crying out loud."

"Don't feel bad, Mulder. You couldn't have known about his family. It's not like he's been very forthcoming about his personal life. I found out about his Mother and Sister by accident. We found out about his divorce the same way."

"But God, Scully after five years you'd think we might have cared enough to find out he was such a lone wolf at least," Mulder looked deep into her eyes. He was so happy with Scully now. He felt Skinner's loneliness even more acutely now then if he hadn't been with her.

"I'm as guilty in that respect as you, Mulder. So, let's not dwell on it, ok. It's all water under the bridge," she gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

Mulder nodded.

"I...I think we'd better call it a day, Agent Scully," Mulder replied huskily.

"I think you're right, Agent Mulder."

xXx

I even gave them both a little grin. Sometimes I indulge myself and them just so they'll know I'm pleased with their performance. So, we were all giddy with our terse little smiles then. Spare me. Anyway - I opened my desk and drew out *my* presentation next. Hey, fairs, fair. They were going to get a crack at the old man.

The recitation was going fairly well until I got to the part about Robert Stack playing Elliot Ness in the Untouchables.

"What's so funny Agent Mulder?"

"What?" I asked looking from one to the other. I mean hell - Robert Stack is one fine actor I told myself.

"I think what Agent Mulder means, sir is maybe the students would relate better to this part of your presentation if you...made it more relevant to them. Updated it a bit."

"Updated it?"

"Yeah - try saying Kevin Costner played Elliott Ness in the Untouchables. You know, the movie. None of those kids is going to remember Robert Stack played Elliott Ness in the TV series. At the most they'll remember he was in the movie, Airplane. And somehow I don't think that's the picture of the FBI that you want to put into their minds, sir," Mulder replied. He was smirking like the fucking Cheshire Cat and Scully was still looking laser beams at him.

"I know Kevin Costner played him in the movie, Mulder. I can't stand that whining, no talent bastard. I mean shit - Did you see *Waterworld* for Christ sake?"

Mulder was really cracking up now. Scully was barely suppressing her mirth as well. I had to admit it was sort of humorous - even if it was at my expense. It's a rare thing when I can laugh at myself - but hey, I do sometimes. So I did now. Just a gruff chuckle as I marked through Stacks name and substituted Costner's in it's place.

"Now if it had been Sean Connery..." I added really driving the point home. All of us actually had a nice companionable laugh at that remark. Oh Gee, the A.D. made a funny! Let's call the God damned Guinness Book of World Records. Shit - I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound bitter. It really was a pleasant moment. And Lord knows I needed to relax. Hold that thought ladies and gentlemen. It will become important later on in this story.

xXx

"Mulder, Mulder, get up, we're going to be late."

"Hmmm, what?"

"Get up! NOW!"

"Oh shit, what time is it?"

"Did you hit the snooze button? It's 7 AM."

"Hell, I must have. Damn, I'm sorry."

"Well get a move on, we're supposed to meet Skinner in 2 hours at the airport. He'll kill us if we miss that flight."

"No shit! Hey, I am really sorry."

"Fine. I guess I should be too. If I hadn't practically milked you dry last night I guess you would have been more alert this morning."

"Scully! I never dreamed you were such a slut."

"Yeah, and you love it G-man."

"Hey, last one in the shower has to wash the other's back."

"Mulder - no fair. I know I didn't spike your instep too hard yesterday. You can't be limping that badly."

"It's not my instep that's sprained Scully. It's my dick. I think you put a kink in my cock you insatiable..."

"Mulder!"

xXx

For some unfathomable reason both Mulder and Scully almost missed the damn flight to Philadelphia. Oh sure they could have caught the next commuter shuttle but what a pain in the ass. I would have had to sit in the friggin' Philly airport drinking 2 dollar cups of coffee (10:00 AM being too early for the 3 dollar beers), while I waited for them to catch up with me.

Mulder was full of excuses too.

"Sorry sir, I picked up Scully so we only had to leave one car in long term parking and then traffic was really bad and...."

"Mulder, they're boarding..."

"Oh. Yes, sir."

The flight was uneventful. It was too short to be anything else. You know what I mean. You're up and down so fast your balls slingshot up into your stomach?

Jim Moriarity met us at the airport. The son of a bitch hadn't changed much since Nam. Thin as a rail and twice as tough. He still had his hair too. Christ on a crutch.

"Walter, it's great to see you man! I can't tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for us," Jim smiled.

We were pumping each other's hands and arms like hell. You know, it really was good to see him.

"Jesus, Sinner, you must work out. You've got a grip like a steel vice there big guy," Jim was laughing.

Fucking-A, I work out. Three times a week in the FBI gym weight room. Free weights and the Nautilus. I swim too for the aerobic workout. In shape - oh yeah. I'm hard. Like a brick shithouse, Professor. I know this sounds prideful but hell - it's the truth.

Keeping fit just makes good sense at my age. Staying fit keeps my weight and blood pressure down so I stay healthy, (and man do I need all the help I can get there). It also keeps me safe in case I do have to deal with the occasional perp or stone, cold killer in an elevator. And oh yeah, the weight lifting also does one other thing for me. It helps with the few woman (minus one unfortunate one - and I won't revisit that incident here), I've been privileged to bed since my divorce. Believe me when I say that once a woman feels my biceps she forgets about the fact that I'm bald - OK. Nuff said.

"Jim Moriarity. This is Special Agent Dana Scully and Special Agent Fox Mulder." I gestured from one to the other and then back to Jim.

I wonder why I didn't notice Mulder's reaction to Jim Moriarity's close appraisal of his partner. Or why I didn't spot the fact that Scully shifted to stand just a bit closer to Mulder than one might deem professionally acceptable? I must be getting old. Or just lax. I mean Mulder is sort of a...Why would anyone think she...but I digress. I'll come back to this thought later too.

We followed Jim in the car I rented as he lead us to the hotel. He'd reserved rooms for us. The Red Roof Inn? O-K.

"Sorry I couldn't get you folks something a little more fancy and closer to the campus but there's a huge convention in Philadelphia and believe it or not a lot of the attendees have booked rooms even out this far. So, rooms were scarcer than hen's teeth. I apologize."

"Well, this is fine, Jim. It's closer to my Mother's house anyway. We won't have a problem with the accommodations."

I mean what were we going to do about it anyway? I just hoped there weren't too many noisy conventioneers. When I want to sleep, I want to sleep - you know? Mulder and Scully didn't seem to mind the Inn at all. No shit.

We checked in and here's another instance when I must have been asleep at the switch. Jim walked us down to our rooms. We unlocked the doors and walked in. Now, the room line-up went like this - Mulder, Scully and then yours truly in that order.

I was washing my hands at the vanity and talking to Jim. I heard voices raised in argument next door almost immediately. They were muffled and all I caught was...

"You ask him...I'm not going to touch that with a ten foot pole, Mulder."

Ask me what? I thought. I dried my hands and walked over to the connecting doors between my room and Scully's room. I knocked on my side.

"Come in," Scully called.

I opened both doors and stood there a moment taking in the scene. Mulder was leaning against the entrance door and Scully was seated on the bed. Both of them looked a bit upset. What the fuck?

"Is there a problem with the rooms, agents?" I asked. I narrowed my eyes a little just to let them know I meant business. I also meant there better not be anything wrong with the friggin' rooms because we all knew there was nothing we could do about them. Jim's just offered alternative was to find us campus dormitory space, and I'd gagged at that suggestion. Cripes!

"No, sir. The rooms are fine. Agent Mulder and I were just trying to decide what to do while you were seeing your family. He...he wanted me to ask you if we were on our own for the day and this evening."

Scully was uncharacteristically fidgety. She picked at the bedspread when she asked me the question.

Mulder, Mulder, Mulder. When will you stop getting this poor woman to do your dirty work? When will you learn that you can ask me anything. I'm just a big pussy cat - I won't bite. HA! When pigs fly - because Mulder you know better don't you?

"Oh. Well, I see no problem with you two doing whatever you'd like today. Uh - just make sure you get back here early enough to get a good nights sleep. The symposium starts at 9 AM sharp tomorrow morning."

Mulder relaxed fractionally from his spot against the door. Jesus he must have been trying to prop up the whole fucking wall he'd been leaning against that door so hard.

"Thank you sir. That settles that, uh, Scully. I'll see you later. I'm going to go - unpack."

Mulder looked like a rabbit caught in headlights for a second. His expression didn't match what he was saying at all. He stammered out his little speech and then turned and exited the room as fast as he could without looking like he was tucking his dick between his legs and running for his life.

It was weird but I figured they had just been having a disagreement as to which of them should kiss my butt in order to get some free time. Like I said - old or lax Walter. You'd better be more on your toes big dog.

I watched while Dana Scully took an Anne Rice novel out of her overnight bag. Well that was nice. At least she was going to have some time to catch up on her reading. I nodded my head in her direction and turned to go back into my room.

"Enjoy your visit with your family, sir."

She really is a considerate human being - I mean that.

"Thank you, Agent Scully." I did let her know I appreciated her sentiments too. I smiled back at her. You know she gave me a really sunny smile too. Will wonders never cease.

I shut the connecting door between our rooms. I wanted to make arrangements to have a beer with Jim later after I visited my Mother. I might need it. Mother was expecting me. I'd called ahead of course. I *was* sort of looking forward to seeing her. She'd sounded pleased to hear my voice. If I hadn't called she would have gotten a stick up her civic minded ass. So, if we were in the mood to see each other, declare a truce and enjoy this visit, I needed to do everything I could to smooth the way. God, my Mother having a *how dare you lady* crap attack was going to be the least of my worries that weekend. But I didn't know that at the time of course.

xXx

"You shouldn't leave your door unlocked like this, Scully," Mulder cautioned as he shut the door quietly behind him.

"Mulder, I knew you'd be knocking on it as soon as you saw Skinner's rental pull out of that parking spot. Get real."

"The Mummy? Is this one any good?" he asked.

"Passable."

"But you like the vampires better, don't you Scully?" he asked tossing the novel over onto the night stand.

"Mulder, I know Anne Rice isn't what's on your mind. Let's get this over with."

Mulder sighed, "Well what are we going to do about that..." he rolled over onto his back and simultaneously used his head to gesture towards the connecting door.

"Nothing."

"But..."

"Mulder I only have one thing to say to you...remember *The Rule*"

"Oh shit, that's what I was afraid you were going to say."

"Well, be afraid, Mulder, be very afraid because yes, I am enforcing it. This is an FBI business function as far as I'm concerned. As much as I'd love balling you at the Red Roof Inn - I don't think it's going to be a good idea. Especially with Skinner sawing wood right next door."

"Well, why don't we do it in my room. I mean I'm two doors away. And with the convention in town this place will probably be hopping later on. Skinner can snore all he wants and we can..."

"Mulder..." Scully replied raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, can I help it if I make you shriek? Can I?"

"Shriek? Moi? Who sounds like Godzilla when he's coming, Agent *I don't so much as moan* Mulder?" Scully tried to suppress her laughter. She wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"God, Mulder you are *so* bent."

"Yeah, but I guess I'm not bent enough. I know you're right. I guess I'll get acquainted with the cold water supply here at the *Raw Red End*. I mean that's what my ass will look like after the third or forth cold shower I have to take."

"Oh, you poor baby," Scully replied sarcastically. She patted him on the thigh. He gave her a raised eyebrow.

"Scully did anyone ever ask you if *you've* been reincarnated?"

"No, why?"

"Because I think you would have fit in just fine during the Spanish Inquisition."

Scully slapped his thigh.

"Oh yeah, do that again."

"Mulder give it up. Look, let's go have some coffee at the Inn's restaurant. I didn't get any this morning. I need my caffeine."

"OK. And just to show you I have no *hard* feelings - I won't even touch the line "I didn't get any this morning."

"How charitable of you, Agent Mulder. Come one, I'm buying."

"Whoa - how can I pass that up? Let's go."

xXx

Did I ever mention that my Mother had me when she was 18 years old? Yeah, well she did. My father was 21 - he practically robbed the cradle. But I think she knew a good thing when she saw it - he was rich before he was 40. Dead at 55. Rich and dead so he left her the estate.

One of the reasons my Mother and I had a problem for years was - OK - I was conceived out of wedlock. So I am literally as well as metaphorically - a bastard. She really didn't plan on the stork dropping me by the house. I think she resented the fact that I came along. She just wasn't ready for motherhood. Marriage maybe, but not a bambino. We had that tension between us right from the beginning. It was made worse by the fact that we're so much alike (more about that later) and the fact that I was...a difficult child shall we say. I think if I hadn't enlisted at 18 I might have been doing time in a juvenile detention center.

At any rate, consequently, my Mother is a hell of an attractive widow woman as they said in the old west. Very civic minded too as I said. She's on every arts board she can get on in the area. And actually I give her a lot of credit for it. She's done a lot for the cultural scene in and around Ambler. But it also means she has very little time for anything else - me included. The only reason Sylvia sees so much of her is because they live three blocks apart. How can a fireman afford to live in such a tony area you ask? Well Roger knew a good thing too - he married into money didn't he?

Speaking of Sylvia - when I pulled up in front of my Mother's restored Victorian both she and Syl were in the front yard. They had on their identical Martha Stewart *we are doing our own gardening* outfits and a whole bunch of late season flowers in a big basket resting between them. Oh Gee - don't get up on my account I thought as I got out of the rental car. But you know what - Syl screamed when she saw me!

"Walter!!!!" she yelled. She dropped the pruning shears (thank God for small favors), and dashed into my arms. God, what can I say? I actually started to tear up. Fuck it. Yes, I love her. She's my kid sister after all. She can't be completely blamed for the fact that she married a cretin and popped out three genetic mutant chips off the old paternal block in three years. She loves the jerk. And truth be told he's been wonderful to her. I just can't stand the mouthy, glib, sarcastic son of the bitch sometimes. He annoys me the same way Mulder gets my goat. Too smart for his own good and not smart enough sometimes to know when he should shut up.

At any rate, Sylvia and I were doing the weepy hug thing. She was wiping her eyes and nose all over my Versace suitcoat when my Mother finally managed to get up off her knees and cross the yard to greet her only son. I was instantly contrite because fuck it - she did have trouble getting up. It was her arthritis. God Damn. I wish she had told me it was worse. But as I said, my Mother and I have something in common. One of many things I will barely admit we share. She doesn't complain about her pain. We're both stoic. Yes, I got that quality from her. My Father used to wail if he got a hang nail.

"Mom?" I asked looking at her knees. She knew I knew. Sylvia let go of my waist and stepped back so that my Mother could take her place against my chest. I hugged her tight. Jesus. She...she looked tired. Don't get me wrong - she was still gorgeous. It was just that she looked...well she looked like she was in pain and hadn't been sleeping well as a result. She looked like me after I've been pushing myself too hard at work. See what I mean? I'm a chip off this maternal block, that's for bloody sure.

"It's just the arthritis, Walter. I need to take some more Advil. I've been crawling around on my knees all morning in that bloody garden. I should know better."

"Are you sure, Mom? I mean have you seen Doctor Ramsey about..."

"I'm fine, Walter, really. Dr. Ramsey just has me on the Advil as I require it. It works well if I remember not to overdo." She smiled up at me and gave me one last little squeeze before she let go of my waist. Advil? She probably doesn't take them unless she absolutely has to do it. Sometimes my Mother's tough broad attitude gives me a gut ache.

"But, good heavens you look good, Walter!"

Who the fuck is she kidding - Roger's 35 years old with a chest like Kevin Sorbo and a head of hair like Antonio Banderas. And by the way where was Mr. *Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love*?

"Thank you ladies. Any chance Mr. Universe here can get a beer?"

That got a laugh.

"Oh, I think we can rustle up some Beck's somewhere, Walter. Come on in and park it for a while."

My Mother has a way about her I'll tell you. I could tell the hatchet was going to be buried - and not in my shiny head either. God this hadn't been a bad idea at all. I felt like a total asshole for not seeing both of them more often.

"Yes, with Roger on the Maryland shore with the kids there's plenty of beer left in the fridge for a change," Syl laughed.

"Roger's at the summer house with the kids?"

"Yes, I forgot to tell you."

Thank you Jesus. This was going to be a great trip after all I thought. Oh guess again Mr. friggin' A.D.

xXx

"I still can't believe he took the car," Mulder was griping between pieces of pie. His jaw worked as he talked, "you sure you don't want a piece of this pie, Scully, it's pretty good."

"No, I'm fine," Scully rolled her eyes as he wolfed another piece down. She sipped her coffee, a reflective look on her face, "and what did you expect him to do, Mulder - take the bus. Of course he was going to take the car."

"Well, he could have rented a second car at least so *we* could get out of here without taking the city bus."

"You could have accepted Jim's offer of a lift over to the college..."

"Oh right! So, it's Jim now. Oh, Yeah! I wouldn't have let him drive us over to the campus if he owned the last car in town."

"Oh come on - he was just being polite."

"Polite? Is that what you call it? *Oh Agent Scully did Walter tell you how grateful I am that you're giving your presentation at the symposium? It's not every day my students get to hear one of the premiere forensic pathologists in the United States speak?* Spare me, Scully."

"What's wrong with what he said, Mulder? I thought it was very flattering."

"He probably believes flattery will get you everywhere."

"Mulder I don't believe it - you're jealous. Now I really am flattered. Either that or you're just upset because all he said to you was - *I've read so much about you, Agent Mulder. Must be difficult getting into the head of a serial killer*."

"Of course I'm jealous. Didn't you see the way he was looking at you? I mean shit - he's got Professor Penis stamped all over his forehead."

Scully choked on her coffee, "Mulder, are you just trying to make me choke to death or are you serious?"

"I'm serious," Mulder admonished her with a shake of his fork. A tiny blob of blueberry pie flicked off and landed on her blouse.

"Oh shit!"

"Damn it! I *am* sorry, Scully. Here, let me get a napkin and..."

"Mulder get your hand off my tit. I can wipe it off myself. Pass me that glass of water." Scully dipped her napkin in the ice water and applied it with diligent dabs to the spot on her blouse.

"Is it coming out?" Mulder asked contritely. Scully looked up. He had the little boy pout on his face. The expression where he juts out that bottom lip. She couldn't stay mad at him for long even though she realized he was working her with that lip.

"When I said I didn't want any pie I *was* serious you know," she teased him with a little smile.

The look of love that shone from his hazel eyes made her melt even further.

"Scully, I...I'm sorry I acted like a jerk about that guy. It..it's just that sometimes I worry that, well..."

"You worry about whether I love you?" Scully asked incredulously.

"I can't believe you love me at all, Scully. Really. I mean...what have I ever done to deserve your love? The way I see it you should hate my guts for the stuff I've put you through. God!"

"Oh, Mulder..."

"Hey, look, forget it - OK. Finish your coffee." Mulder looked down at his pie plate.

"Mulder look at me," Scully whispered.

Mulder brought his eyes up to pin hers.

"Don't ever doubt that I love you, Fox," she used his first name to add emphasis. He could be so thick headed sometimes. She really wanted his attention now, "I love you more than life itself. If I had objected to anything we've been through together I would have transferred out long ago. I wouldn't have even felt the door hitting my butt. So, don't let me ever hear you say you don't deserve to be loved, Fox Mulder. I love you. Get used to the idea, G-man."

She was met by a real Mulder smile then. The kind that showed every one of his pearly whites. "Oh God," she thought. Get thee behind me Satan, and Mother Mary help me to follow *The Rule* tonight."

"So finish *your* pie, Agent Mulder. I think I would like to take that city bus over to the campus. Dr. Moriarity did tell me they have a excellent library over there. How would you like to poke around the stacks this afternoon?"

"Stacks ain't what I'd really like to be pokin' Agent Scully."

"Put a fork in it, Mulder, we don't have all day," Scully retorted, picking up her coffee cup.

xXx

I left my Mother's house just after dinner. It was later than I had expected to stay but she really had insisted I put on the feed bag with them. It had been a great meal. My Mother is a good cook when she has time to get it together in the kitchen. Sylvia is a gourmet cook. I'm not a bad cook myself come to think of it. Neither was my Father. I guess it runs in the family.

At any rate, things cruised along just fine and there wasn't a discordant word spoken all afternoon or at dinner. I excused myself to use the can before we had coffee. After I'd taken a piss I got my cell phone out of my jacket and made two calls. The first was to Jim to tell him I was running a little late and would take a raincheck on the beer until tomorrow night. The other call I made was to Dana Scully. I figured I'd be able to get her more easily than Mulder. And besides that, I took the chance that Mulder was hanging around somewhere nearby.

"Agent Scully?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm running a little late at my Mother's house. She...she insisted I stay for dinner. I'll be returning to the hotel shortly however. I told Jim Moriarity I would see him tomorrow night. I just wanted to let you know. Can you inform Agent Mulder as well?"

"Yes sir, no problem. He's with me. We took the opportunity to tour the campus. We're in the library right now. It's very comprehensive. Very interesting."

"Oh. Did Jim drive you to Temple?"

Smart move, Scully. No sense in giving old Jimbo any encouragement.

"Fine. I will see both of you back there. Don't rush. You...you and Mulder might as well have dinner. Go somewhere nice and don't worry about me. I'm certainly not going to have any room for so much as a cup of coffee." I let some of my jovial mood slip into my voice. After all, I really had enjoyed myself. I was feeling very magnanimous, generous. Hey, I was feeling on top of the world! Scully would appreciate my mood I thought. I was right.

"So you enjoyed the visit with your Mother and Sister, sir?"

The warmth in her voice reached my ear even over the cell phone connection. For a second I felt my heart clench in my chest. It was a strange feeling. You know I almost think Dana Scully likes me. Hell, I know she respects me. Now I have a suspicion she may even care about me. Once, not too long ago, when I was laying on a hospital gurney, my guts on fire from that fucker Cardinal's gunshot wound, I'd held this woman's hand. I'd gotten the feeling in that moment, when I'd squeezed her small hand and she'd squeezed back, that Dana Scully...that..well let's just say she's got what it takes. No question - OK. At any rate I felt this fuzzy, warm sensation in my chest. I didn't exactly know what to say.

"Uh, Scully?"

"Yes, sir?"

"It was a damn fine visit, Scully. Thanks for asking."

"You're welcome sir. Uh...Agent Mulder and I will see you later."

I flipped the cell phone shut and shoved it back in my jacket pocket.

"Walter, do you still take your coffee black?" my Mother was calling from the dining room. I told her I took it black, and I went in to get my cup with the biggest shit eating grin on my face I can remember having there in a very long time.

xXx

"So it sounded like he had a good time hey?" Mulder asked Scully as they sat next to each other on the almost deserted city bus. They had just left the little Thai restaurant where they had eaten a late dinner. He snuggled closer to Scully. The air had taken on a bit of a chill. It had been an Indian summer day, very pleasant for late October up until that point. But now it was a little cold. He was sorry he hadn't brought his long black G-man coat. He was sorry Scully hadn't brought hers either - but not much.

Scully moved closer to him as well and he lifted his arm up and placed it over her shoulders. He rubbed her arm.

"Cold?" he asked.

"A little, but that helps," she smiled up at him, "And yes, he did sound really happy Mulder. I think the visit went better than I expected it would. I mean when I talked to his Mother that time she sounded so...distant, almost cold."

"Well, Skinner's no Mr. Warmth."

"Oh cut him some slack. He's not that bad. I think he can be...cordial on occasion."

"Get real - he scares you shitless and you know it. He reminds you of your father, Scully. You told me as much once."

"I don't remember saying that."

"Well, you did."

"I don't think he reminds me of my Father. That would be a disturbing thought."

"Disturbing why?"

"Oh, never mind."

"Oh, come on, Scully what do you mean? What's disturbing about thinking of the A.D. as a paternal figure, he's..."

"Well if I think of him as a Father figure then I have to admit that I'm admiring my Daddy's ass and I really don't want to go there, Mulder," Scully answered. She took one look at Mulder's jaw hanging open and started to dissolve into giggles. She looked away and down at her hands as she tried to compose herself.

"You're shitting me, aren't you?" Mulder asked laughing.

"No, haven't you ever noticed? Skinner has a really nice derriere. I mean he isn't called tight-assed by the women agents for only *one* reason you know," she replied breathlessly. She was having little success regaining her normal air of formality.

"Blow me!"

"Not on city transport, Agent Mulder!"

"No, seriously - you think he's got a great booty? And hell no, I never noticed it. I'm not watching his behind for Christ sake."

"Jealous again?"

"Of Skinner's ass - no way. I may not have buns of steel Scully but I make good use of these glutes - you of all people should know. So stop giggling."

"I'm not giggling."

"Get your hand off my ass, Scully. I'm warning you. You're the one flaunting *The Rule* remember?" Mulder smirked at her. He brought his hand up along her arm and then up her neck. He stroked her hair.

"Right. Sorry," Scully grinned. She looked back up into his face.

"Scully?" Mulder asked as he moved his head closer.

"Yes..."

"Mulder!? You goofbalummmph..."

xXx

I won't bore you with the first day of the symposium. Believe me, you'll thank me. I will say however that the first day went well. We didn't give our speeches. I know, sarcastic right? I'm just being facetious. Sorry. Saturday went very well. We were mostly on hand to meet and greet and interact. G-men and Woman advertisements for the Bureau. On Saturday local law enforcement was on. And they were on big. It was fine. Some of them mentioned when they would call in the FBI on a case. So, they even paved the way for Jim's big guns - Mulder, Scully and the old Sinner, on Sunday.

On Saturday night Jim had arranged some kind of party at the faculty center on campus. I guess this was his version of having a beer. The party was invitation only. Honor students and faculty in attendance. I was grinding my teeth again. If I dislike conferences I really hate these kind of functions even more. Wine, finger food, and faculty wives. Ugh. I have no idea why faculty wives feel it's their duty to entertain every (in their eyes), needy looking single male in the room. But they do. And you know what - I'm not the only one who thinks this is ridiculous. You can see the women faculty members practically heaving up their tuna and cucumber maki sushi rolls, let me tell you.

So, there I was standing in a corner fending off the Dean's wife of all people, holding my plate of sushi rolls and a glass of White Zinfandel wine as my stomach did the bossa nova and my head threatened to pick up the back beat. I wasn't even listening to what that harpy the Dean called a wife was saying. But I was getting off lucky. I could see Mulder across the room. He was shoved up against the wall with three faculty wives and one woman faculty member crowding around his dick. I smiled a tight little smile and raised my wine glass in salute as his eyes caught mine. I could almost hear him pleading shrilly, "Help meeeee!" like the fly with the scientist's head in that movie - what was it called - Oh yeah, *The Fly.* Right.

I had no idea what had happened to Dana Scully. But I had a sneaking suspicion. I could see Mulder was helpless. He'd never be able to make a break for it to keep an eye on his partner. He'd be lucky if he escaped with his sanity intact. I on the other hand *could* get away. I have a fool proof technique for extricating myself from this type of situation. First I start to shift from one foot to the other. Then I look around the room with a not quite hidden look of desperation on my face. I wince a little. I shift some more. I press my legs together and then...

"Oh, the men's room is over that way, Assistant Director Skinner. Around the corner and down that hallway," the ever accommodating Dean's wife pipes up right on cue. See, works every time.

I mumbled my embarrassed thanks and she swelled with self importance as I made a hasty retreat towards the can. As I was crossing the room the little band that had been hired for the occasion began to play. I made a circuit of the room and then I saw them. Jim Moriarity and Dana Scully. Somehow he had gotten her outside, through the glass doors at the back of the room and into the garden beyond. That fuck. He was always a smooth operator. I really didn't want him operating on Dana Scully. I mean...well...I just didn't think it was right. So, I headed over to the doors, they were open at least. Oh for God's sake - he was trying to dance with her out there on the patio. Can you say corny come on here? Even I wouldn't try something that lame.

"May I cut in?" I ask tapping Professor Pervert on the shoulder.

I was starting to get just a little annoyed with my old buddy Jim. I hadn't even had a chance to reminisce with him yet and I wasn't sure I even wanted to now. Maybe he hadn't changed much mentally just like his physical appearance hadn't changed much over the years. Maybe my memory of what he was really like has been dimmed by those years. Maybe he really was sort of a fuckwad you know? I hoped not. But if he kept that shit up I wouldn't bother to find out.

Well, he always was a ladies man. Why should I care if he had been trying to get into Dana Scully's pants since she got to Ambler? Well, I cared because I could plainly see that she wasn't interested. She was going along with him now out of politeness but she kept looking back through the open doors for any available help she could get. I had no problem being the help. I was her Boss. I am responsible for my agents.

"OH. Uh, sure, Walter," Jim gave me a puzzled smile.

"What's to question? I want you to leave. Go swill some more wine, I thought." Jim turned around and sauntered back through the glass doors. Before I realized what was happening Scully had taken my hands in hers and started to dance.

"Uh, no, that's all right, Scully...you don't have to..."

"Well, you did ask to cut in, didn't you, sir?" she asked.

She had this really pleasant smile. I...well I just thought - why not? I'm not a bad dancer. I knew I wouldn't step on her feet or anything. I'm glad no one could see us though. I knew we were quite a sight. She comes up to my Adams apple - maybe. But it was nice. Did I tell you she was wearing a dress? I could count the times I'd seen Dana Scully in a dress on one hand I think. Anyway she must have thought to bring this dress along just in case. She was dressed beautifully really. She was warm and she smelled good too. So, what the heck. Like I said, I'm not a bad dancer.

"Thanks for defending my honor, sir."

"Hmmph."

"Really, I...well I don't want you to think Professor Moriarity was rude. He just..."

"Scully, go ahead and say it...he came on to you right?"

"I guess so, sir."

"Yeah. Well, Jim Moriarity was one of the biggest cocksmen in the supply section over in Nam. I'm not surprised he tried something like that, Scully. I...I'm just sorry I couldn't have gotten out here sooner."

"Well, that's all right. Nothing happened and really, he was mostly just trying to be friendly. It was just annoying."

"I can imagine."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"You're not a bad dancer."

"Thank you Agent Scully."

"May I ask you a personal question sir?"

Scully you can ask me anything right now. I'm putty in your tiny hands. Your soft, warm skin and wonderfully heady natural feminine perfume have intoxicated my senses to the point that I'm now hypnotized and willing to do your every bidding. Ask me anything - I'm yours to command.

"I suppose so."

"Professor Moriarity called you Sinner in the airport? Was that a...did you have that nickname in Vietnam, sir?"

"Good assumption, agent Scully. Yes, I had a very close friend who gave me that nickname. He was from Georgia. We called him *Cracker*. Jim was *The Professor* even back then."

"After Sherlock Holmes' arch enemy?"

"A plus, agent Scully. You really are on a roll."

"But Sinner?" Scully asked.

"Why Sinner?" I looked down into her face. She was really curious. I figured what the hell it won't hurt to tell her some of it.

"Yes, sir."

"I stopped going to services with the Chaplain, Scully. Cracker thought it was...rather humorous. He called me his unrepentant Sinnuh in that Georgia Boy accent of his. God rest his soul."

"He was killed in action?"

"Yes."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It was war Scully. And it was a long time ago."

It was a long time ago but I dream about it still. The dreams were fewer and farther between but I had them more than I ever wanted them. Once would have been too much.

I can still see Cracker walking ahead of me, on point with me. We had just come off the Sergeant's take five and the platoon was fairly fresh from the brief break. We were somewhere inside Cambodia. None of us were supposed to know it - but most of us did. It was a covert operation. We were all special forces you see. It was against every rule on the books for us to be in Cambodia. But we were.

Cracker and I had been talking in very low voices. Then we stopped because we thought we had heard something up ahead in the trees. I remember Cracker turning his head and putting his finger up to his lips to tell me to *hush up* as he used to say. The next thing I heard was a sound like a fire cracker and half John *Cracker* Rand's head was splattered all over my flack jacket. I screamed, and screamed, and fired, and fired and they all died, they all died but me.....

"Hmmm, What?"

"I said are you all right?"

I looked down into Dana Scully's face again. I was confused for a second. Oh shit. I hadn't had one of those in a while - PTSD daymare I mean. Fuck.

"Oh, I'm sorry I was just thinking. Uh, would you like to go back inside now."

I released Scully's hands at that point and turned around. Mulder. For once I was glad to see the guy. I felt slightly dizzy and headachy from the stress and the wine I'd pounded down a little too quickly earlier. I wanted to go sit down.

"No problem, Agent Mulder. If you'll both excuse me?"

xXx

"So, was he a good dancer, Scully?"

"Yes, he was very graceful for such a large man."

"I'm glad he didn't step on your toes."

"So was I. He would have crushed them."

As soon as Scully had heard Skinner start to snore in the room next to her she had exited from her room and crept quietly next door to Mulder's accommodations. She hoped Skinner would be able to sleep. She couldn't. The hotel had indeed begun to hop as Mulder had suggested might happen. The conventioneers were in the party hardy mood, but to their credit they were trying to keep it down now that 10 PM had come and gone.

Mulder and Scully were sitting on the bed, in their night clothes, backs propped up on pillows against the headboard, and the TV tuned to American Movie classics. The classic scifi movie, *This Island Earth* was being shown and Mulder just couldn't miss it. Besides that, the TV's volume was just enough to drown out the limited amount of merry making that was going on above them.

"Scully - look at Faith Domergue. Have you ever seen a woman with pointed tits before? I mean look at her boobs."

"Mulder I don't care whether Faith Domergue has pointed tits or square tits or no tits - I'm trying to tell you what happened to Skinner tonight."

Mulder muted the sound on the TV and turned to look at his partner. Her brow was knitted together and the Scully worry line was very much in evidence between her eyes. He sighed. He might as well bow to the inevitable. Faith Domergue's tits would have to board the ship for Metaluna without him. He hit the off button.

"What happened to Skinner?" he asked.

"I got him to tell me why Jim Moriarity had called him Sinner."

"Was it his nickname in Vietnam?"

"Hmmmph."

"Mulder, what does that mean?"

"That pointless, noncommittal noise you just made when I told you Skinner's friend was killed in action."

"Did Skinner ever tell you what happened to him in Vietnam, Scully?"

"No."

"Well...he told me once. It was one of the few times he took me into his confidence."

"Did it have something to do with his friend dying? What happened?"

"Yeah it was about his friend - indirectly about him anyway. I guess I can tell you about that part - he asked me not to talk about some of what he told me."

"Maybe you shouldn't tell me what he said at all then, Mulder."

"No, this part is ok. It's something you could find out easily on your own anyway."

"What is it?"

"Skinner was the only member of his platoon to survive a massacre by the Viet Cong. He was severely wounded himself. He was really lucky to have survived at all. His friend must have been killed in the ambush. Everyone but Skinner was taken out in body bags.

"Oh my God," Scully whispered, touching Mulder's arm gently.

"It was pretty horrible."

"Mulder...I...his wounds...uh, I've never seen any severe scars."

"Well, you wouldn't. I saw his scar once - in the FBI gym shower. Take my word for it - it's rather spectacular. A couple of inches to the right and he would have been singing falsetto."

"Oh, Mulder..."

"Even so, it must have been tremendously traumatic. While he was telling me about it tonight he had some kind of...he sort of went blank for a few seconds," she said, her voice muffled against his t-shirt.

"Blank, like old stone face blank or...gone..." Mulder asked pulling back slightly to look into her face.

"Sort of gone."

"Fuck."

"Do you think he suffers from PTSD, Mulder?"

"He shows some of the indicators."

"Mulder, that's terrible."

"Well, he copes with it rather well if he does suffer from it. I know he's gotten counseling. You remember that treatment he was undergoing at the sleep clinic?"

"Well, I think he's had some counseling off and on for a while. Uh, I know he's seen Karen Kosseff a couple of times."

"I saw him coming out of her office twice, that's all."

"God, Mulder I feel...God this is so depressing, you know?"

"Depressing - why?"

"I guess it just bothers me that's all."

"Bothers you? What bothers you? The fact that Walter Skinner survived a horrendous war experience and seems to function and cope rather well despite that incident? Or the fact that he functions so well that he commands the respect, and even fear of the agents under him - you and me included?"

"Mulder, that's not fair."

"Then what bothers you about it, Scully?"

"It bothers me because...well it reminds me of you I guess and I...oh Lord. I know what you go through, Mulder. The nightmares, the guilt...the...unending self torture...I'm sorry. But if Walter Skinner puts himself through even half the shit that you do I can't help but have it bother me. He must suffer, Mulder. And he doesn't have anyone to share that with him," Scully replied quietly. She took Mulder's hand in hers and picking it up, kissed his palm.

Mulder looked down into her eyes and his heart swelled with his love for her. He was almost breathless with the emotion that rushed into his chest.

"God, I love you Scully."

"I love you too Mulder. I just wish Skinner...well I wish he was this lucky."

Mulder drew her close and kissed her. The kiss started out as soft and tentative, almost shy. But it deepened quickly as she opened her mouth to admit his tongue. "God, he can work that tongue," she thought for a moment as hers met his and they danced inside each other's mouths.

Scully pulled back breathless. Mulder groaned slightly.

"You're not going to enforce that damn rule now are you."

"No, Mulder...I...even I don't have that much will power." She replied breathlessly.

"Thank God, because I was going to have to go in the can and take matters into my own hands here in a minute," Mulder sighed with relief.

"Have you been doing that Mulder - jerking yourself off while we've been here?"

"Yeah, for God's sake. It's been terrible. They don't even have the Playboy channel here so I've had to resort to memory."

"Yeah, well in your case that's probably better anyway." Scully teased him.

"So, can we make this real instead of Memorex?" he asked moving off the headboard. He shifted to straddle her legs. Is this ok? I'm not crushing you am I?" he asked.

"But what?"

"I was just wondering if you'd do something for me?"

"What?"

"Jerk yourself off so I can watch?"

"What?"

"I said..."

"I heard what you said. Uh..."

Scully pinned his eyes. She started to smirk. He was blushing.

"Mulder, you're not embarrassed to do that for me are you?"

Mulder looked down at his raging hard on. It wasn't something he had ever done - beat off in front of a woman. Not even in front of Phoebe and they had done some pretty wild shit. Yeah, he guessed he was embarrassed about it. The way a guy jerks off is...well it's a very personal thing he thought.

"Scully, uh...yeah I guess I feel a little funny about it. You know...jerking off is kind of personal?"

"Personal? Mulder I don't believe it. After everything we've done together. I mean that thing with the vibrator and..."

"Hey, that was your suggestion, Scully."

"Only after you told me you wanted to see me use it to..."

"All right, point taken. Look, if this would be a turn on for you...yeah I guess I can give it a whack. You know I'd do anything for you."

"Mulder I can't even begin to tell you what a turn on it would be for me to see you do yourself. You've watched me do it. I think it's only fair. Tit for tat. Clit for dick."

"Oh Lord, woman you have turned into such a slut."

"Hey, I just enjoy sex. I've always enjoyed it Mulder. I just haven't found the right person to really enjoy it with - until now."

Mulder shifted off her legs and sat next to her for a moment studying her face.

"You're so beautiful when your aroused. Do you know that Scully?

"You're beautiful too Mulder."

"Ok. How do you want me to do this for you."

"Well, why don't I just shift to the end of the bed and you can lean back against the headboard. Would that be ok for you?"

"Sure. As long as you have a good view."

"Oh, I think the view will be just fine."

Mulder grinned at her then. Maybe this would be fun he thought. If he could just get over the feeling of being a bit dirty. He'd always felt just a trifle guilty about beating off. His mother had caught him at it once and he still remembered the slap and then the lecture. Lucky for him he hadn't believed any of that crap about going blind or growing hair in his palms. Otherwise he would have had no sex life at all for a number of years. He scooted back against the pillows resting against the headboard. Before he began anything, he did two things. He reached over and turned the bedside lamps off. The bathroom light was on so there was enough illumination.

"Mood lighting," he smiled.

Scully smiled back, "I like it. I makes you look... well, you look..." she whispered.

"Spooky?"

"I was going to say very film noire..."

"Oh, Tish. That's French..."

"Mulder, don't ruin the moment."

Mulder gave her a sheepish grin, "Special effects. I...I usually do this with a video tape in the VCR. Uh...a lot of the time the tape runs out. The static will help me to focus."

"God, Mulder..." Scully was so hot and wet all ready she felt like she had the Amazon River between her legs.

Mulder took one look in her face and that was all brother. Any thoughts about guilt, self consciousness or embarrassment went right out the window under Scully's look of total sexual arousal.

"Scully?" he asked as he grasped the waistband of his boxers and worked them down.

"Yes?" she replied quietly. She watched him wriggle his boxers sinuously past his erection and then down his hips and thighs. He lifted one leg slowly and then the other as he pulled them off. He was performing for her now, and she moaned slightly. He dropped the boxer's between his legs. He'd need them to mop up he thought. No sense really messing up the bedspread if he could avoid it.

"You know I fantasized about you every time I pumped myself in front of those tapes, don't you? I'd get so hard just imagining I was fucking you it would be like two strokes and I'd shoot all over myself. Did you know that?" he asked her huskily.

She didn't answer him. She bit her lower lip and nodded her head as he reached down and began to idly stroke himself.

"Yeah. I used to think about you, Scully. Your gorgeous red hair. Your wonderful soft, fair skin and your smile - that little smile you used to reserve just for me. And your eyes and God, those lips. I thought about what those lips might feel like around my cock and...oh Jesus."

"Go ahead and touch yourself if you want to," he whispered.

"No, I...I just want to watch," she replied seductively. He smiled broadly at her. God, this felt so good he thought as he began to run his hand up and down the length of his cock again. He drew his knees up and spread his legs slightly so he could get the best access, and she could see it all. He was going to do a little something extra at the end here that he knew he'd enjoy and he hoped Scully would as well. It was lucky he was limber that's all he could think as he began to pick up the pace with his hand.

"Scully, I...do you want me to talk some more because I don't know if..."

"No, Mulder, just do it. Oh God, this is so good," she moaned. I love the way your cock looks. I love the way you look."

"This *is* an incredible turn on," he groaned slightly. He knew he couldn't talk anymore for sure. He threw all his concentration into making this really spectacular for his lover. He wanted to really come like a rocket so Scully would get the most out of his performance.

"Can I sit closer?" he heard her breathless request. By this time his eyes were shut and he was biting his own lip. He nodded his head quickly and felt rather than saw her shift closer to him. He felt her place a hand on his knee.

"Lord, Mulder you have an fantastic cock," she breathed.

He could really feel it twitching in his hand. The damn thing pretty much had a life of it's own at this point. At least it felt like it did. He was beginning to buck his hips now. This was where it got really tricky. The experienced masturbator had to know just when to lose control so that he brought himself off and kept hold of his cock long enough to really ring out a good orgasm. Mulder had a technique for coming like a geyser. He was just about ready to shoot to the moon.

Scully was whimpering as he started to really crank. He arched his hips up to meet each pump of his fist. He could feel his balls starting to tighten up and he let out a feral whine of pleasure. He snaked his other hand down between his ass cheeks. He let himself feel around for where he wanted his fingers to go. He was more than ready to work two fingers in to feel his prostate. He knew as soon as he flicked that sucker he was going to go off like a sidewinder missile.

Incredibly he felt Scully's hand reach the spot ahead of him. His eyes shot open and met hers instantly.

"I'm a doctor, remember?" she purred and then she gently worked two fingers into him.

"JesusGod," he gasped out. Well, she did know her anatomy because she found the spot deftly without any fumbling or guess work. Mulder lost it. He lost total control. He lost his grip and he yelled out in desperation. Scully reached forward and yanked his cock hard.

He roared as a tremendous crashing orgasm ripped through his entire body. He exploded shooting cum all over her hand and his stomach. He bucked up again and again as she continued to pump him until he couldn't give any more. He blacked out slightly in the sensory overload and when he came back Scully was mopping him off with his boxers and rubbing his thighs and stomach with tender erotic strokes.

"I take it you couldn't just watch," he gave her a lopsided, satiated grin.

"No, I guess..." her reply was interrupted by a strange animalistic moaning. It wasn't coming from Mulder.

His words were stopped cold at the next sound. It was the guttural, hoarse scream of a man in mortal terror.

"That's Skinner," Mulder hissed. He was up off the bed in an instant.

"No, you can't go, look at you. Get cleaned up," Scully whispered quickly. She jumped lilthly off the bed and grabbed for her robe which was draped over a nearby chair.

She threw it around herself and hurried out the door of Mulder's room. She fumbled the keys to her room from the pocket of her robe as she reached the door and unlocking it, dashed inside. She could hear Skinner's hoarse howling through the connecting doors. She pulled her connecting door open and didn't hesitate a second as she pushed the other door. It was locked.

"Shit," she hissed. She was so used to Mulder leaving the connecting door between their rooms open that she hadn't dreamed Skinner would lock his. But of course it made sense. He valued his privacy.

She did the only other thing she could think to do. She started to pound on the door.

"Sir, are you all right. It's Scully, sir."

She was really wailing on the wood when the yelling cut off abruptly. She heard something thud next door and then a muffled, "Fuck!"

"Sir, are you ok?" She called out urgently. She could hear Skinner fumbling around and then heavy feet treading towards the connecting door. They stopped immediately on the other side.

"Scully?"

"Yes, sir. I...I heard you crying out. Are you all right?"

She heard the lock disengage and the door pulled open a fraction. Skinner stood staring owlishly at her from behind his specs. He was clad only in his white BVDs. Scully kept her eyes pinned diligently to his face. He looked disorientated and unfocused for a moment. Then he seemed to snap back to himself.

"I'm sorry Agent Scully...I...I must have been having a nightmare."

"Are you all right now, sir? I can go get Agent Mulder if..."

"No. Don't...don't bother Mulder. I'm fine. I have these sometimes. Uh, nightmares about the war. I'm just sorry I woke you. Please go back to bed."

"Would you like me to come in and sit with you for a minute, sir. My mother used to do that for me when I had a nightmare..." she let her voice trail off. "Boy that was a stupid thing to say," she thought. "Walter Skinner wanting his Mommy? God, it was insulting. Dumb, dumb, dumb Dana," she kicked herself mentally.

Skinner stared at her for a moment and the expected look of disgusted condemnation didn't come. If anything his face held a look of indecision on it. Scully studied his face carefully. She kept hers neutral.

"Hang on," Skinner finally answered. He shut the door and Scully heard him cross through his room. He returned a moment later and reopened the door. He had on a long, striped bathrobe. The bedside lamps were on.

"I guess I wouldn't mind...some company for a couple of minutes, Agent Scully. Thank you," he wouldn't look at her but his hands were shaking slightly where they had the connecting door in a death grip. Scully walked past him into the room Skinner carefully pushed both connecting doors open and then walked back into his room.

Scully stood for a moment while he stood staring at the floor. He looked up at her briefly and then he went to sit in one of the chairs next to the little table that sat in front of the room's windows. His back was facing the connecting doors. Scully moved to sit on the edge of the bed. They were far enough apart that the distance made things a bit less awkward. Still, you could have cut the tension in the air with a knife.

"Sir, would you like to talk about it?"

"No."

"Can I get you a glass of water."

"There's a couple of Diet Cokes in the ice bucket. Help yourself Scully," Skinner replied softly. He took his specs off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Scully walked to the ice bucket on the dresser and pulled out the two Diet Cokes. She took one and sat it in front of Skinner on the table. She turned and sat back down on the bed. She popped the tab on the Coke and took a sip. She watched Skinner as he cleaned his glasses on the sleeve of his robe and then put them back on. He was making a conscious effort to breath more regularly. Scully recognized Karen Kosseff's relaxation technique when she saw it. She'd been taught it by Karen as well. So Mulder had been right about Skinner seeing the Bureau psychologist. He seemed to be a quick study also - his body was relaxing with each passing moment.

Scully caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Mulder stood in the connecting doors. She looked up at him and shook her head back and forth imperceptibly. He watched for a moment and then turned and left her room.

"Are you going to be all right, now sir?" Scully asked finally when it seemed that Skinner was much more calm.

"Yes, thank you," he finally reached forward and picked up the Diet Coke. He popped the top and took a healthy swig.

Scully watched him drink the Coke. She felt herself grow aroused as his bicep moved beneath his sleeve. His robe slipped and she got a look at his muscular chest covered with a mat of dark hair shot trough with traces of gray. She looked down. He had very well muscled legs. They were like rock. She licked her lip slightly as she brought her eyes back up to watch his throat swallow the liquid.

He used the back of his sleeve to wipe his mouth. He set the Coke can down on the table and then he turned to look at her. Their eyes locked and Scully felt her face flushing.

"You can go back to bed now, Agent Scully," he whispered, "And thank you, really. I...I just needed a couple of minutes..." he let his voice trail off. His eyes bored into hers for a moment more and then he looked away. He ran his hand over his face, "Good night, Scully..." he said with finality.

Dana Scully got up, carrying her Coke and crossed back to the connecting doors. She walked through and turning said, "Good night, sir."

He didn't say anything further. She closed her connecting door behind her. As soon as she did so she heard him get up and walk to his connecting door. He closed it quietly. He didn't lock it. Scully left her room and went back next door to Mulder.