Getting a Life II
by Josan Here they werefinallyin their new home and everything that could have gone
wrong had.
And to think everything had begun so well.
He had retired last Friday with, at his request, minimum fanfare. Instead of
the usual 'gold watch' cliche, he had been presented with a fly-fishing package
that had taken his breath away. Top of the line graphite rod, Hardy reel. A
creel that came with lines and flies for every possible occasion.
The Director had been very smug that this decision of his had met with such
success.
Davy had finished off his last day at school with a hug for his teacher, a
handshake from the director and a complete set of Tolkien from the class. Apart
from a couple of the friendlier kids, he really was not unhappy to be leaving
the school.
Kim's boys were a different story. There were tears there from all three boys
among the promises of visits.
Krycek was quiet but he seemed to accept the fact that he had come home, as
Skinner said, only to move. He'd disappeared on the Friday for a while and had
returned with a few bags of new clothes which he stashed in a large gym bag for
the trip to Vermont, and some books, CDs and videos he packed in a box which he
then carefully labeled with his name.
Saturday, all started well. The movers arrived at the prescribed time. The
truck was quickly filled. The things the three of them wanted to bring along
were safely stashed in Skinner's new SUV, a forest green Davy proudly pointed
out to Krycek that he had selected.
Both SUV and truck left on time.
And that was the last of their luck.
The truck was supposed to arrive around noon Sunday in Middlebury. Skinner had
agreed to pay overtime to ensure that arrival. Unfortunately, the truck had a
breakdown and didn't arrive until Monday afternoon.
Not that the late arrival did much to inconvenience the travellers. No, that
honour went to a sudden blizzard that came out of nowhere, with snow falling
faster than the road crews could handle and high winds causing drifts that
blocked highways, stranding them in a small town only a few hours from their
final destination. The small motel had been quickly filled up with other
stranded travellers and the three ended up spending the night camped out on the
floor in a corner of the local elementary school gym. Krycek didn't get much
rest. That many people around him, the crying babies and children, the cranky
adults made him too edgy to sleep. Davy and Skinner slept only fitfully.
It was the middle of the next morning before they could safely get back on road.
Apart from the coffee, juice and toast provided, they'd not taken the time to
eat more so that by the time they got to Middlebury, Davy was cranky with hunger
and fatigue, Krycek was stolidly silent and Skinner was wondering just what the
hell else could go wrong.
The Real Estate office was closed.
The agent he had been dealing with had expected them the previous day and had
now left for a family gathering. By the time Skinner managed to track down
another agent, who went into the office to get the keys to the house, he had
also gotten the message from the moving company about the truck's delay.
The pathway to the house and the driveway which had been cleared prior to the
storm were now packed tight with drifted snow. By the time Skinner and the
agent got to the front door, they had had to force their way through some
hip-deep drifts.
The good news about the house was that the utilities were on. They had light
and heat. Of course, they had no beds, no blankets, nothing to eat on or with.
Not that there was any food in the house.
The agent was very accommodating. Through his efforts, the local Inn was more
than pleased to take them, if they were all three willing to share a small room
with a double bed. They could find a cot for the child, but that was the best
they could do as they too were still filled from the storm.
At least, thought Skinner, supper had been delicious. Not that it made up for
the day, but it was the first really good event of the day and he wasn't going
to be too particular. The room had a television and Davy settled down on his
cot to watch a Disney movie while Skinner and Krycek tried to get comfortable on
the bed that, for the two of them, was just that much too small right now.
Krycek slept almost on the edge of his side of the bed while Skinner spent the
night very aware of the presence of a child in the room with them.
Breakfast had also been excellent. The coffee was top quality and Skinner found
he was in a better frame of mind. At first, it was hard to tell how Krycek was
other than silent. However, by the end of the meal, Davy had picked up
Krycek's mood and was looking from one adult to the other as though expecting an
explosion of some kind.
Their first stop was at the local hardware store where Skinner picked up three
shovels and a extra large thermos. The Inn was more than pleased to fill it up
with coffee and to provide them with sandwiches and drinks for lunch. Skinner
reserved the room for another night, just in case. The Inn, having heard from
the agent about their trials, informed Skinner that if he cancelled the room
before 5 p.m., there would be no charge.
So they had cleared the way to their new house, an activity that seemed to
defuse some of the tension they were all carrying. Krycek and Davy had emptied
the SUV while Skinner had finished shoveling snow away from the door of the
double garage that stood to the left of the house, then Davy and Skinner had
given Krycek the grand tour of the house.
Davy's bedroom was huge, the complete front width of the house. There was a
large bathroom and what Skinner called his office to the left of the stairwell,
the spare bedroom and what was to be Krycek's office to the right. Their
bedroom, the one with the fireplace, had its own bathroom complete with tub and
shower which made it smaller than Davy's room even though it too was the width
of the house.
All three of them stared out at the view of the whitened back yard with its now
bare trees. Skinner found it almost peaceful.
Krycek must have felt that as well. Several minutes later, he took a deep
breath, let it out and seemed to relax.
After eating their lunch, they had tackled the veranda, clearing it of snow.
Krycek was the one who noticed the attention they were getting. From the
street, a small group of children was watching them. Once they realized that
they had the adults' attentions, they ran off.
Davy wondered if they lived near-by. He added, a little plaintively, "Do you
think they'll like me?"
Before Skinner had a chance to say of course, the moving van arrived.
Now, two days later, the mood had grown yet again tense.
Krycek had spent both nights definitely sleeping on his side of the bed, both
days barely speaking. Davy was either too quiet or far too wound up, with
nothing, so it seemed, in between. And Skinner, looking around at the mess of
moving which still escaped order, found himself wondering what the hell had
possessed him to think that this had been a good idea.
Davy had spent the morning asking when he was going to get his dog until Skinner
had told him to stop asking, that he didn't want to hear the word "dog" again
until they had settled in. Right now, Davy was whining that there was nothing
for him to drink in the fridge. Krycek was frigidly staring out of the den
window after unpacking a box of books. And Skinner knew he could no longer
ignore the pounding in his head.
"Okay! That does it! Everyone in the parlour. Now!"
Krycek turned as though he were figuring out which would be the fastest way out.
Davy's mouth was open in mid-whine. He had never before heard that tone from
Skinner. Krycek had. It reminded him of his time with the FBI and a
particularly stringent dressing down the office had gotten from a certain AD.
Davy wriggled in his corner of the couch, Krycek sat still in the other.
Skinner rubbed his scalp with both hands and tried to get his tiredness, his
anger and, yes, his fear all under control.
He stopped in front of the couch, sat on the arm of favourite chair and closed
his eyes.
"Look, I'm not going to lie to you two. I know this hasn't gone off as planned.
I know that we're all tired and stressed. And I'll admit that this was
probably a bad idea. But we're here and we've all got to deal with this."
He opened his eyes and examined the two faces watching him. Davy's was worried;
Krycek's, expressionless. Neither was good news. Both had to be addressed.
"Davy. I know this past year has been hard. You were found by Alex and
spirited away. You both were on the run far too long. Alex was hurt and you
were ill. Then I popped up and took the two of you to my place. Alex left you
with me. All with the best of intentions, but without ever asking you what you
thought about the whole situation."
Krycek, Skinner caught out of the corner of his eye, looked startled by that
idea. Then Krycek turned slightly so he could watch Davy's face. Right now, in
a manner with which Skinner was the more familiar, Davy's face was down, focused
on the toes of his running shoes.
Skinner continued, his voice indicating his sympathy. "Then you suddenly found
yourself with a father, with people who were doing all sorts of things that they
thought was best for you. Again, without asking what you wanted. I know that
you liked Madame and Molly, and that you really got along well with Kim's boys.
And that you're missing all of them. I know, too, that school wasn't a great
success. I'm sorry about that, but I wanted you safe and that was the best
place for you to be while we were in D.C.
"I know that Alex's coming back to us, the leaving, the moving, the 'adventures'
we've had in the past couple of days, the tension between Alex and myself..."
Now he had Krycek's full attention. "All that is very upsetting to you. I
understand that, Davy."
The boy glanced sideways at Krycek then up at Skinner. His lower lip was caught
under his front teeth. He looked about to cry.
"And," Skinner gentled his voice even more, "what you need to understand is, no
matter what happens, Alex and I, we both love you very much."
Davy said nothing but his eyes widened with surprise.
Shit! thought Skinner, did the boy really not know how they felt about him?
"As you grow older," he smiled at the boy, "there will be times when you'll
think we don't understand you. That we're too strict. We'll have arguments,
disagreements. You'll yell at us and we'll probably yell straight back at you.
But that's all right, Davy. Because we will always love you, no matter what."
Then Skinner looked at the man silently watching. "And Alex. I know that you
didn't need all this right now. That you're beyond tired. That you came home,
not knowing what to expect, and what you walked into was not of your making.
That the past few days have been tough on you as well. And that, in the next
few weeks, there will be more difficult days in among the good ones. But in
all that, you too need to remember that Davy and I, we both love you. No matter
what."
Krycek's eyes weren't completely successful in hiding his shock.
"And as for me, well," Skinner shook his head, "I should have thought that this
was too much happening in too short a time. Even though I've been looking
forward to it, retirement is a big change in one's life. And work was pretty
stressful those last weeks as we were trying to tie up ends and get the new A.D.
up to snuff on all the other things that the office deals with.
"I'm new at being a parent and I worry too much about some things and probably
not enough about others. I wanted this move because I thoughtand still think
– that you, Davy, will do better here than you would in D.C. That we would have
the kind of home I grew up in, with a dog, a back yard, space for all of us.
And yes, Alex, I did include you in the 'us'."
Krycek cocked his head slightly as though considering that.
Skinner sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Look, maybe moving up here
in November was not the brightest of ideas. I should have realized that Mother
Nature was a little more capricious in Vermont than in D.C. And yes, I should
have considered that we would all need time to adjust. That everything wouldn't
necessarily be clear sailing. But through it all, I will remember that you both
love me."
Davy nodded his head several times at that. Skinner smiled, reached over to
place his hand on one of those small feet.
"And, Davy, when you feel comfortable enough to yell at us, to go stomping up
the stairs and slam the door all the time muttering under your breath, we, Alex
and I, we will both remember that you love us all the while."
Now both of the faces staring at him wore similar expressions of astonishment.
Damn, thought Skinner, he should have had this conversation with them long
before now.
Davy lowered his head and peered sideways at Alex, as though looking for
confirmation of what Skinner had said. Krycek cocked his head sideways and met
the boy's glance. His head moved in a slight nodding motion and Davy, almost
shyly, nodded back.
"Now then," Skinner had their attention once more, "one of the problems we're
all facing is that we're all far too tired and we're finding each other's
company difficult. I think it would be best if we went off and did things that
we need to do, but on our own. Davy, your room needs tiding up. You need to
decide what should go where and I think that this would be a good thing for you
to do for the next hour or so. While you're doing that, I'll be in my office,
doing the same thing. Alex, I think you'll find paper and pencils in that box
over there. This would be a good time for you to go make a list of what you'll
need for your office."
Nearly two hours later, Skinner stood in the doorway of Krycek's office and
examined the man lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, his good arm under
his head. The pad of paper on the floor next to him was still blank.
Skinner cleared his throat and waited until he had Krycek's attention. "Davy is
sound asleep on his bed. I think that's just what he needed." He came part way
into the room. "You okay?"
Krycek let his head fall back. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure." Skinner went to sit on the floor by Krycek, one leg folded up under the
other which he stretched out.
Krycek worried his lower lip then turned to face the man above him. "You told
Davy that you wouldn't lie to him."
"That's right." Skinner wondered where this was going.
"You also told Davy that we both loved him."
"Yes." Skinner cocked his head. "Are you going to tell me you don't love him?"
Krycek ignored that and went on. "You also said that you...that both of
you...you and Davy...that you loved me."
Skinner nodded at the unasked question. "Is that what you want to know? If
Davy and I love you?" He reached out and rested his hand on Krycek's hip.
"Alex, you would have to be blind and senseless not to understand that Davy
loves you."
Still no real reaction on Krycek's part. Skinner allowed a small smile to grace
his face. "Ah. Davy's not the one you're wondering about."
Krycek shrugged. "I know you said what you did because Davy's been uneasy these
past few days."
"Alex, I said it because it's true."
"You love me." Krycek scoffed, obviously disbelieving.
Skinner allowed the smile more freedom. "Well, what's so strange about that?"
"Fuck, Skinner. Lie all you want to the kid, but please, not to me."
The wariness shimmering under that statement made Skinner think twice before
snapping off an answer. He pulled his hand back and rested it on his knee.
"Alex. You once told me that you wouldn't hide the truth from Davy. That was
the reason why you told him he was a clone. I've also promised Davy I wouldn't
lie to him. Besides, that's not what a kid needs: lies don't help you find
your way in life.
"So, if I won't lie to Davy, I don't see any need to lie to you. Besides, it's
not like you need that kind of protection."
"Yeah, okay. But 'love', Skinner?"
Skinner shrugged. "Alex. Do you think you're the only one who's unsure of
what's going on? Davy is still finding his feet. He's doing incredibly well
handling all the changes in his life in so short a time. And, right now, he's
probably handling all these new relationships the best of all of us.
"As for us, well, all I know is that I find I want and need both of you in my
life. And the reason that I think you might want both of us in yours is the
fact that you're still here."
"And that's love?"
"One facet of it." Skinner reached out his hand and let it lie on Krycek's
knee. "Alex, why do you think I can't use the word love in relation to you and
mean it?"
Krycek found the ceiling very interesting once more. Skinner waited, his hand
warm on Krycek's knee.
Krycek finally moved, sitting up, and leaned back against the wall to meet
Skinner's look straight on. "You know what my life has been. The only thing I
know about love, the kind between adults, is what I've seen in movies or read in
books. But even that is enough to tell me that there must be something
seriously wrong with you if you think you...care that way about me."
Skinner pulled his legs under him and sat facing Krycek. Before he could say
anything, Krycek added, "Look, it's not necessary to use that love line on me.
I came back and I don't mind being in your bed. In fact, I quite like it. I'm
just saying that you don't have to pretend anything with me."
Skinner nodded his head as though agreeing then moved so quickly Krycek didn't
have a chance to react. He grabbed Krycek's head and pulled it to him. Holding
it steady with a tight grip in his hair, Skinner took Krycek's mouth for a kiss
that he hoped would make his feelings rather more obvious.
At first, Krycek barely allowed it, then, when Skinner didn't let up, he slowly
relaxed into the kiss, finally returning it. Only then did Skinner loosen his
grip on Krycek's head.
"I guess," Skinner said when he finally caught his breath, "that there must be
something seriously wrong with me. Of course, that's only a real problem if
it's one-sided. Is it, Alex?"
Krycek licked the taste of Skinner from his lips slowly. "No," he whispered.
"But that still doesn't answer the question." He dropped his head onto
Skinner's shoulder. "I beat you. I killed you. I used the nanos to control
you."
"Yes," agreed Skinner. "And I have to admit that I didn't really like any of
that. But, yes, I also understand that for you back then, it was that or
death. For both of us. I seriously doubt that there will be any repeats of
those episodes, especially since the people who ordered you to do those things
are now all gone. And, knowing that, thinking about it, I find that it's not
been that difficult to forgive you."
"Yeah?" Krycek pulled back. He didn't sound as though he really believed that
was all there was to it, but his face was more open than Skinner had ever seen
it.
"Yeah."
Krycek nodded and then leaned in and took possession of Skinner's mouth. They
were slowly getting into the feel of it when they heard a loud, "Yuck!"
Two hard cocks quickly wilted.
Skinner looked over his shoulder at the boy who was watching them from the open
doorway. He sighed. They were going to have to remember to close doors.
"Are you two going to be playing sucky face a lot?" Davy's disgust was very
audible.
Skinner grinned at the boy, keeping his grip on Krycek whose forehead was
propped on Skinner's shoulder. "I hope so."
"Alex?"
Krycek raised his head but kept his eyes on Skinner's though he spoke to the
boy. "Yeah, I think so."
Davy gave an exasperated sigh. He slowly came into the room and dropped to the
floor next to them. "Tommy says his parents do that stuff all the time, too.
It's really gross."
Skinner laughed. "It's gross at your age. You'll change your mind as you get
older."
Davy shook his head. "No way!" Then he added, "Are we all okay now?"
Skinner shared a silent message with Krycek. "Yeah. I think we're all going to
be okay."
They were going to get curtains for the windows in the next days, but Krycek
found he rather liked the light from the reflection off the snow that shadowed
their bedroom. Enough light so that he could see Skinner coming out of the
darkened bathroom, not wearing any "protective" underwear.
Enough light so that Skinner, even without his glasses, could make out the
welcoming leer as he approached the bed. He slipped under the covers and
reached for Krycek.
"Shit!" Krycek gasped, "You're cold," and tried to pull out of Skinner's arms.
"And you're nice and warm. Better than a hot water bottle." Skinner entwined
his legs in Krycek's, keeping him close. "What do you expect? I'm coming to
you naked in a Vermont bedroom in the middle of winter. Of course, I'm going to
be cold."
Skinner cuddled close to Krycek who was now resigned to his role as bed-warmer.
"Well, you could keep that cold on your side of the bed. Shit, now I'm
freezing."
Skinner's grin was a match for Krycek's earlier leer. "Maybe I should do
something about that?"
"Maybe you should...Oh!"
Skinner had slipped quickly under the covers and found Krycek's cock, flaccid
against his thigh. Not for long. Skinner's mouth played happily with it, his
hands gleefully exploring the skin of Krycek's thighs, his balls, his ass until
Krycek's gasps turned into moans and he came. Skinner loudly slurped him clean
and then came back up. "Warm enough now?"
Krycek opened his eyes to find Skinner propped up watching him, his cheerful
glee irritating enough for him to push Skinner onto his back. "My turn now."
Skinner thought himself pretty good at giving head. No one had ever complained;
he had even had a few compliments. But he had nothing on Alex Krycek. Damn, he
thought at one point, he really would have to pay attention and pick up a few
pointers. Next time. This time...damn, it was hard to think, never mind make
notes.
Krycek drew it out, not just to show off what he could do, but to repay Skinner
a little for the night when Skinner had brought him to the edge of release so
often and then backed away.
Later, lying next to the man softly snoring, Krycek wondered at the fun he had
had tonight, blowing a man for the pleasure of it, teasing and not having to
worry about paying for the teasing. Having been catered to before he did the
catering. He allowed himself to move a little closer to this man who, crazy as
it seemed, actually wanted him.
The next morning, Davy was very quiet. Both Skinner and Krycek had reassured
him that he had nothing to worry about. That his new school was going to be
fine. Well, his papa had sounded confident. Alex had shrugged and reminded him
that he, Krycek, had never experienced what he was going through, but that they
were survivors, both of them.
He ate his breakfast cereal slowly, hoping to delay their leaving for school.
Upstairs, the men were getting dressed. Skinner had pulled out a Hugo Boss that
he had usually worn for high-level meetings where someone had to be impressed.
Krycek was trying to find the least obvious of his clothing. He wasn't certain
why Skinner was insisting that he come along. What the hell did he know about
first days at school?
"No, not that. The black jeans and that black sweater you picked up before we
left D.C."
Krycek raised an eyebrow. "I wear those and I'll look like what I am."
Skinner nodded. "Precisely."
Krycek didn't understand but he pulled the black sweater out of the drawer that
was his until they brought some more furniture.
"Alex. Think about it. It's the middle of the week, over two months into the
school year. Davy is not only new, but in their eyes, he's a city kid who's
moved into the country. Into their territory. He lives with a gay couple who
are also new to town. How this day starts for him will probably determine the
rest of his school life in this town."
Krycek bit his lower lip as he thought. "Good cop, bad cop?"
Skinner smiled. "Think of the fun you're going to have intimidating a principal
and teacher."
Actually, the first person Krycek got to intimidate was the school secretary who
took one look at him and went scurrying into the office to warn the principal
that the new student had arrived. She made very certain to be as far back as
possible from Krycek as he followed Skinner and Davy into the office.
The man behind the desk was more than surprised at the two men who entered his
office. Of course, Sally Benson had informed anyone who would listen that she
had sold the old Farmer place to a man who came equipped with a child and
another man. She had also added that the one that she'd met was very male. Tom
Derrick had been expecting that she had exaggerated a bit. Sally's idea of a
macho man was that SNAG on "Dharma and Greg".
The first man who stepped in had him mentally apologizing to Sally. The second
explained why Mrs. Moffett was acting the way she was.
The boy was polite, offered his hand to shake when his father introduced him.
The man in black merely gave a short nod.
"I'm pleased to welcome you to Middlebury Public School, David."
"Daveed."
Mr. Derrick looked at the man in black. "Daveed," he corrected himself.
"Davy will do fine," interjected the boy's father.
Mr. Derrick decided that he preferred to deal solely with the father and
wondered if there was a way he could ask the other to leave.
"This is Alex Krycek," explained the father. "He's Davy's uncle and also his
legal guardian."
Mr. Derrick tried to smile and knew that there was no way he was going to get
his wish.
"There are some forms that will need to be filled and then we'll take Davy down
to Mrs. Morgan's room. We received his school reports by fax on Friday. Mrs.
Morgan teaches the enriched program."
Mr. Derrick handed the forms for personal information to the father and examined
the child who was sitting very quietly, watching the proceedings with those eyes
that had to come from his mother's side of the family. The uncle had the same
eyes, but colder, harder.
"I see that you've indicated that you're retired, Mr. Skinner. May I inquire
from what?"
The father recapped his fountain pen and sat back. "From the FBI, Mr. Derrick."
"Ah, you're our first FBI agent, Mr. Skinner."
"Assistant Director."
Mr. Derrick looked at the child who had spoken.
"Papa wasn't an agent, he was Assistant Director."
Mr. Derrick held his breath. A gay agent was one thing, but an Assistant
Director? He looked at the father who was wearing a suit which probably cost
far more than what he made in a month. Darn, the child was not exaggerating.
"And is Mr. Krycek also with the FBI?" Might as well get all the news at one
time, he thought.
Mr. Skinner smiled and glanced over at the man in black who merely looked back
at the now retired Assistant Director of the FBI. "Alex's work, I'm afraid, is
still classified and will probably always remain so. For the record, let us
just say that he too is retired."
Yes, thought Mr. Derrick as he stood up to escort the trio to Mrs. Morgan's
class, let us say so and let us indeed hope so.
While Davy hung up his outdoor clothes in the locker that had been assigned to
him outside of his new classroom, Mr. Derrick knocked on the door.
Mrs. Morgan was one of the stall worth members of his staff. She had moved here
from Burlington ten years ago, bringing with her a wealth of experience and had
proven fairly popular with the children she taught. She was stern but could
laugh when it was important, had high standards that the students strived hard
to reach and knew the worth of sparingly used praise. Nothing much frazzled
her. Mr. Derrick wondered how she would react to the adults who accompanied the
child.
It began badly.
Leave it to the Ferguson boy to open his mouth without thinking. Just like his
mother. Mary Louise Gagnon still put her mouth into gear before her brain.
As Davy entered the room, Frank called out, "Is that the new fag kid?"
Mrs. Morgan looked horrified. Mr. Derrick glanced over his shoulder, nowhere
near as calm as he projected. Before he had time to say anything, the man in
the suit entered and Mr. Derrick had no trouble seeing the Assistant Director.
Thankfully, neither did Frank.
"We will discuss this later, Frank," Mrs. Morgan's tone left no doubt that the
discussion was not going to be a happy one for Frank. "But right now, I will
just say that you have greatly disappointed me."
But no one was watching, probably not even listening to Mrs. Morgan. Because
the uncle had entered the room and had brought with him all the sense of danger
that Mr. Derrick had sensed on meeting him.
The entire room fell silent.
As if examining the room, the man took his time and strolled his way to the back
of the room, all eyes, adult and child, on him.
Frank, Mr. Derrick was pleased to note out of the corner of an eye, looked
suddenly very remorseful.
"This is Mr. Krycek. He's Davy's uncle," he told Mrs. Morgan and the class.
Mrs. Morgan nodded at the man at the back of her classroom. The man nodded
back.
"Davy," his voice was soft, not difficult to hear in the stillness of her
classroom. "If you have any trouble of any kind, you're to tell me." He looked
around the room, not in a threatening way, she later had to admit, though she
doubted that Frank or any other of the children whose parents may have made
comments about the new boy's family set-up would remember it that way.
"Understand?"
All eyes shifted to the new boy who had barely noticed his uncle's behaviour
Davy nodded his head. "Yes, Alex. I understand."
The uncle casually made his way back to the front and the man waiting for him
with a rueful expression on his face. Mrs. Morgan watched as a message was
exchanged and the uncle shrugged.
"I can assure you that there won't be any trouble," she smiled at the child who
was now curiously looking around the classroom. She assumed that the child was
used to these displays and wasn't bothered by them. "Perhaps you would like to
take the desk that I've set up for you next to Barbara-Ann. She lives quite
close to your new home, I believe. Will you be going home for lunch? Yes? I'm
certain that Barbara-Ann will be happy to show you the way."
It was her classroom and she was now going to take back control of it.
"Gentlemen," her tone very schoolmistress, "we really do need to be getting back
to our math work."
Mr. Derrick nodded and indicated to the two men that they should leave. Mr.
Skinner smiled at her, thanked her for allowing them to interrupt their work,
nodded to the boy and followed Tom Derrick out of the room. The uncle looked at
her and then, to the gasping surprise of everyone of her studentsand a few
giggles from one or two of the braver girlshe came up to her, took her hand
in one of his gloved ones and raised it to his mouth for one of those incredibly
romantic European hand kisses. "If Davy behaves inappropriately, please, do let
us know."
And with that she understood that he was apologizing for monopolizing her class.
Well, maybe terrifying them was a better description, but looking over at Frank
who was getting far too spoiled by his parents since he had been identified as
gifted, that might not be such a bad thing. One sure result would be that Davy
would be allowed time to settle in before he was tested by the other children.
"So, did you enjoy intimidating a class filled with kids?"
Krycek snorted. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do?"
Skinner grinned then turned his attention to the road. He pulled into their
driveway, parked the SUV and turned off engine.
"I don't see why we had to take this thing," muttered Krycek, getting out. "I
mean, the school isn't even five blocks away."
Skinner merely grinned, unlocked the front door to their house and let Krycek
precede him in.
"A five minute walk..."
Krycek didn't finish his complaint as Skinner shoved him against the wall and
took his mouth roughly with his own.
"Wha...?" Not that he had any complaints, Krycek thought, but...
"The kid is out of the house," said Skinner by way of explanation, pulling back
just enough to watch Krycek's face.
"Yeah, so?"
Skinner cocked an eyebrow and grinned lasciviously and suddenly Krycek caught
on. "Oh. Oh!" and his grin matched Skinner's. And then Skinner found himself
back against the wall and his mouth being taken possessively. While Krycek was
busy, Skinner stripped the leather jacket off him, tossed it to one side as he
also began toeing off his own boots.
Krycek was more occupied with Skinner's belt then the button on his fly, the
zipper.
They moved slowly up the stairs, scattering clothing, footwear on the steps, the
bannister, the hallway floor. Hugo Boss would not have approved of the way his
suit was tossed here and there to the floor.
Both men were naked by the time they made their way into their bedroom.
"How much time do we have?" gasped Krycek, head back as Skinner sucked hard on a
nipple.
"Couple of hours," muttered Skinner. "Now you can scream all you want."
"Oh, yeah? Maybe I don't scream." Krycek worked off the straps that held the
prosthesis. Skinner took it from him, carefully placed it and his glasses out of
harm's way then tipped Krycek backwards onto the bed.
"I seem to remember that you did, one night."
"That," Krycek pulled Skinner down on top of him, gasping at the sudden weight
on his chest, "was an aberration on my part."
Skinner grinned wickedly, all the way down to Krycek's cock. "Let's just see
about that, shall we?"
"Gonna cuff me?" Krycek raised his hips, rubbing hard against Skinner's groin.
"Another time. This time, I want to feel your hand on me." Skinner pushed back
just as hard. Krycek moaned and then, catching Skinner's self-satisfied smirk,
let the feral side of himself loose.
They both screamed.
Davy came pounding up the stairs and down the veranda to the kitchen door.
"So, how did the morning go?"
Alex was sitting sprawled in a chair by the table, a cup of coffee in his hand.
He wasn't wearing his working clothes any more, thought Davy. Just jeans and a
t-shirt. Papa wasn't wearing his work stuff either. Sweats and a henley.
Both of them, thought Davy as he hung his outdoor clothes onto the hook that
Papa had put up for him, looked really relaxed.
"I like Mrs. Morgan," he said. Then he answered what he knew would be their
next question, "She's making Frank write a composition on prejudice."
He snickered as he sat down at the table and grabbed his glass of milk, chugging
a good portion down.
"Did Barbara-Ann walk with you?" Papa asked.
He checked out his sandwich. Roast beef with ketchup. Sliced really thin. Just
as he liked it.
"No. She cried after you left. Said her mother wouldn't be happy if she did."
He didn't catch the reaction of the two men. "Slaven says she does that all the
time. The crying. And that her mother doesn't like her," he imitated someone,
"'associating with the locals'."
"Who's Slaven?" asked Alex.
Davy chewed quickly, anxious to get out this bit of information.
"Don't choke yourself," Papa said, sitting down with his sandwich. Made with
mustard, not ketchup.
"You remember the kids who were watching us the day we moved in? Well, that was
Slaven and his brother and sisters. He has two of them. Brothers and sisters,
I mean. They live just down the street, the brick house on the corner? He's my
age and," his voice rose with excitement, "he speaks Russian!"
Papa grinned at him. "So, the morning seems to have been a success. Do you
think you're going to like this school more than the old one in D.C.?"
Davy shrugged around his mouthful. Papa didn't like it when he talked with his
mouth full. Come to think of it, Alex hadn't either. "Mrs. Morgan says that my
math skills are excellent and so is my reading. She was pleased about the
French. Some of the kids take that and others take Spanish. But Slaven and I
are the only ones who speak Russian as well," he beamed, proud of the fact.
"How come Slaven speaks Russian?" Alex had eaten all of his sandwich. Papa
would be happy. Alex hadn't eaten all that much when he'd arrived.
Davy finished his milk. "His mother teaches some Russian stuff at the College.
And his father stays at home with the kids. He's a writer of some kind."
Papa was smiling at Alex. "Considering all the information you seem to have
picked up in such a short time, I was wondering if you knew what Slaven's last
name is?"
D'uh, thought Davy, though he didn't say it aloud. Papa wasn't impressed with
that expression. "Rush. He writes poetry, Slaven says."
The sound of footsteps pounding on the veranda caught everyone's attention. A
head appeared in the bottom half of the kitchen door window. As Davy crammed
the last of his cookie into his mouth, Papa opened the door to Slaven whose
mouth showed the remains of whatever dessert he had eaten. Something chocolate,
thought Davy.
"Hi. I'm Slaven."
Davy held his breath as Alex looked the boy over carefully. Slaven was about
the same height as him, but his face was more slavic than his. He hoped Alex
and Papa wouldn't disapprove of his new friend.
Slaven's large brown eyes were watching them excitedly. "My parents say that if
you're not doing anything this aft, maybe you'd like to come for tea. Around
three. If you'd...WOW! You don't have an arm!"
All eyes went to Alex who hadn't put back on his prosthesis.
"Oh, yeah," Davy said, casually.
"Yeah, but he had two this morning."
"He has a fake one he puts on when he wants," explained Davy, sitting on the
floor, pulling on his boots.
"Cool, man!" enthused Slaven. Then he turned serious. "Davy, did you ask
them?"
Davy shook his head. "They kept on asking questions about school and Papa
doesn't like me to talk with my mouth full."
Slaven nodded, expression commiserating.
"Ask us what, Davy?" Papa was wearing that face he wore when he was trying not
to laugh at something.
"Can he come over after school and play with Gorky and me?" Slaven and Davy
stood side by side, eyes brilliant with anticipation.
"Is Gorky your brother?" Alex raised an eyebrow.
Slaven and Davy exchanged a look. Sometimes adults weren't very bright.
"No," explained Davy, "Gorky is Slaven's dog."
"Ah," said Papa.
Davy hoped that Papa was going to remember his promise of a dog. Even if he had
told Davy very strongly that he didn't want to hear any more about a dog until
they had settled in themselves.
"Tell you what," said Papa, "stop here on the way back, both of you. If we're
not here, we'll be at Slaven's."
The door slammed shut behind the two cheering boys.
They walked down to the Rush house around three.
"So, what do you want me to be this time?" asked Krycek as he looked over the
big three-storey brick house on the corner.
"Yourself. On your best behaviour. We're being vetted but we're doing our own
bit of vetting as well."
Krycek frowned. "What if we don't pass muster? Does that mean Slaven won't be
allowed to 'associate' with Davy?"
Skinner shrugged. "Don't look at me, I don't know. I'm new to this
parent-vetting thing."
"Didn't happen in D.C.?"
"Wasn't that kind of school. Wasn't that kind of situation."
There was a van parked in the driveway. Several years old, thought Krycek
Shit! Five kids. How do they do it? He felt he was walking barefoot around
broken glass where Davy was concerned.
Before they reached the door, a dog barked excitedly and the door was opened by
a tall, slender woman who had the cheekbones of a Tartar and masses of unruly
curly red-brown hair. She was smiling at them. She was also extremely
pregnant.
Shit! thought Krycek. Six kids?
"Hello. You must be Davy's parents. Come in. I'm Natasha."
The voice was lightly accented. Krycek allowed Skinner to go in first.
"Walter Skinner," he said, offering his hand. "This is Alex Krycek, Davy's
uncle."
"Natasha Sevastjana Katayev-Rush." She smiled and switched to Russian. "Good
day. I'm so pleased to meet you both. Come in, come in."
St. Petersburg, thought Krycek.
The dog began barking loudly from behind a closed door.
"Do you mind?" she asked, pointing to the door.
"The famous Gorky?" Skinner grinned, shaking his head.
"Brace yourselves," was the only warning they got as she opened the door and a
large rug came charging out excitedly.
"A sheepdog!"
Krycek took a step back as the animal happily gave a quick once over to the
visitors.
Gorky barely bothered to give Skinner a token sniff-over then he turned his
attention to Krycek. To everyone's surprise, the dog reared up and placed his
front paws on Krycek shoulders, happily licking his face.
"Gorky! Down!"
The dog immediately obeyed the stern voice but refused to leave Krycek's side.
"I'm so sorry, he usually isn't so enthusiastic about greeting people he doesn't
know. Charlie!" she called up the stairs, "bring a wet face cloth with you.
Gorky seems to be very fond of our new neighbours."
Charles Rush was as slender as his wife, with a strong resemblance to Gorky. As
neat and put- together as his wife seemed, he was the opposite. Skinner decided
that if ever there was a walking stereotype of the absentminded professor,
Charles Rush was it.
The house seemed to be a mixture of the neat and tidy interspersed with
disordered and cluttered. A well-developed balance that seemed to work for the
people in this house and was comfortable for visitors who were prepared not to
be too fussy.
Natasha Katayev-Rush taught both Russian Language and Literature courses at the
College during the school year as well as during the summer session that was
dedicated solely to the teaching of languages. Charles Rush taught a couple of
courses of poetry at the College during the academic year, then led
poetry-writing seminars at Bread Loaf during the summer. They both looked a
little askance when Skinner revealed what position he had retired from, but
readily accepted Krycek's explanation that he had retired from "doing a little
of this and a little of that." Natasha Katayev-Rush had stared at him for a long
moment and then nodded her head knowingly, exchanging a message with Krycek that
only he understood.
Gorky had been exiled to the kitchen and so had the pleasure of greeting all the
children, Davy included, when they arrived from school. The two eldest, a boy
and a girl, were in high school. They grabbed some of the cake that had been
served and headed upstairs to get a start on homework. The twins, also a boy
and a girl, were in second grade.
"I'm afraid that this one too will be twins," laughed Natasha Katayev-Rush.
"Seven! They're going to have seven kids around," Krycek muttered to Skinner as
they walked home, a happy Davy running on ahead of them.
Skinner grinned. "Yet they seem sane."
"Do you come from a large family?" Krycek didn't often ask personal questions.
He had done his research on Skinner long ago, but his family beginnings hadn't
been considered important so he hadn't gone much past his time with the Marines.
Skinner laughed. "Five kids, two parents."
Krycek thought a moment. "They still around?"
Skinner shrugged. "My parents both died within months of each other about ten
years ago. The rest of us are all scattered around the world. We try to get
together once every five years."
"Do they know about..."
Skinner stopped walking. "About?"
Krycek turned to face him. "About Davy?"
Skinner nodded. "I sent them all an e-mail or a letter and pictures about four
months ago. They were all very happy for me."
Krycek waited.
"About us? Well, I did indicate that it might be a possibility." Skinner
started up their driveway. "The final judgement on that is still pretty much in
the air. So far it's two I-have-to-think-about- that, one
definitely-your-business-as-long-as-you're-happy and one no answer. But that
could be for many reasons, one of which is my brother is not accessible by
internet. And mail getting to him is a 50-50 proposition."
"Skinner?"
Skinner looked back at the man still standing on the sidewalk.
"The dog you promised Davy, is he going to get it?"
Skinner grinned. "Natasha has a colleague who finds homes for abandoned
animals. Seems she has a couple of litters of pups that are about ready to
leave home. I thought that we'd go take a look Saturday."
Krycek nodded and moved to join Skinner. "Any sheepdogs in that?" he asked
casually.
"No, I believe there's nothing that big available."
"Thank god," muttered Krycek as he passed Skinner.
Skinner roared as he draped a sympathetic arm around Krycek's shoulders.
The dog was a three-month old beagle mixture pup that fell in love with Davy
almost as soon as Davy patted it.
They nearly didn't get the pup. Not because of Davy and his age, but because
Skinner had to admit that he had no recent pet experience. That Krycek had
never had a pet was an additional negative they had to overcome.
"You do know that pups require loving discipline, that they chew things. He's
been trained to ask for the door, but that doesn't mean he's not going to
urinate on the floor at the most inopportune times. And both pups and dogs
require a lot of walking and exercise." The short, rotund woman glared at them,
fists on hips.
Davy had been listening to their interrogation all the while playing with the
pup. "And they need lots of love and attention, especially when they're this
young. And because he's part beagle, he's going to need training, too."
The woman switched her interrogation from the adults to the child, impressed
with the amount of research he had conducted into the care and training of dogs.
So they got to take Barney home with them, along with a list of items they had
to purchase, the name of the local vet who would see to the pup's neutering when
it was old enough, a condition all perspective owners had to agree to, in
writing.
"Whew!" muttered Skinner as they watched Davy, brimming with excitement, leading
the pup on a leash that he certainly did not like to their vehicle. "Reminded
me of my old DI."
Krycek nodded. "The Rushes were easier to get by than her. You think she was
serious when she said she's going to show up at the house, unannounced, just to
see that we're doing things right?"
"Why Barney?" Skinner asked once they were all settled in the car. On the list
was a requirement for a dog's seat belt. Right now, they were driving with the
pup nervously tucked in by Davy's side.
"I don't know, just seemed to be the right name for him."
Skinner had no intentions of allowing the dog to sleep in Davy's room, much to
the disappointment of both boy and pup. And the pup was far more vocal in his
disappointment. After the third night of listening to the pup howl off and on
all night long, Barney got to join his young master in his bedroom. On a
special pad that had been bought for him, as per instructions. He quickly
learnt to start the night on the pad, looking up sleepily when either of the men
checked in on the boy on their way to bed. Once that was over, Barney was free
to join Davy on the bed, wriggle under the blankets and sleep all night through,
tucked in under the boy's arm.
To Krycek's amazement and then glee, Skinner pretended not to notice.
It was harder not the notice when the Christmas tree nearly came tumbling down
when Barney decided to go exploring, but they survived that as well.
And he was proving to be very popular with the kids in the neighbourhood, some
older, some younger than Davy. The urge to see and pat, then play with the new
puppy helped Davy earn ready acceptance. And the sight of the adults walking
the dog around the neighbourhood helped introduce them to their neighbours as
well, at least on a nodding basis.
Davy and Slaven quickly became an inseparable team. So, one spring afternoon,
at recess, when one of the older boys teased Slaven about his wuss father
staying home, playing nursemaid to the babies, Davy had to enter the fray which
had Mr. Derrick calling parents to his office.
Krycek sat with Slaven and Davy in the outer office while the Rushes and Skinner
discussed the situation with the principal. Slaven had a swollen lip from where
he had bitten himself when he'd been pushed to the ground. Davy was sporting
his first shinner. Well, thought Krycek, the first that the boy could remember.
He'd refused to go in with Skinner for several reasons, one of which was that
he didn't know how things like this were dealt with in this world. In the one
he'd come from, if he'd been involved in a fight that had not been sanctioned,
he'd have been caned. If they thought they were going to do that to Davy...
"You two need to learn how to defend yourselves."
Slaven sighed heavily. "Mom says that she's against that kind of stuff. That
civilized people discuss their differences of opinion."
Davy nodded. "Papa says," having endured one lecture on the subject in his
bedroom the night before, "that fighting never solves anything."
Krycek caught himself from scoffing out loud.
There was no caning. Only a day's suspension for all three boys, a day to be
spent composing an explanation, for Slaven and Davy, as to why fighting was not
the way to resolve a problem, and for the boy who had started the whole thing,
one on the different forms families in the 21st Century came in and why this was
a good thing for society.
Skinner checked in on Davy who was labouring over his assignment. All in all,
the boy had handled the entire episode well, he thought. Even if he'd gone in,
with no thought of his own safety, to defend a friend whom he'd seen overwhelmed
by a situation. He'd accepted Skinner's lecture on fighting without trying to
wriggle out of his part in the confrontation. And he was working hard on trying
to come up with other ways the situation could have been dealt with.
With a kiss on his head and a squeeze of a shoulder, Skinner left him to get on
with it.
As he passed Krycek's office door, Skinner realized that he had another problem
to deal with: Krycek and his reaction to all this.
There had been some coldness last night after he'd had his talk with Davy.
Actually, Krycek's first reaction had been to go out and deal with the kid who
had dared blacken Davy's eye. Skinner had put a quick end to that but he'd also
realized, from Krycek's mutterings on hearing they were required to show up at
the school the next morning, that Krycek was expecting some reaction that he had
no intention of putting up with, even if he had to take on Skinner's 'control of
Davy'.
And after that, Skinner had spent a great deal of the night thinking about the
situation here at the house. About how Krycek never involved himself in Davy's
life except as a casual participant. It was Skinner who made the house rules,
who reminded Davy of them, who enforced them if need be. Krycek never commented,
either positively or negatively. He just stood by and let Skinner deal with
matters.
But today, when they had come out of the principal's office, Krycek had placed
himself between them and the two boys, as though ready to defend them.
Ready, when Skinner thought about it, to grab Davy and take off.
Now, watching the man sitting in his chair at his computer, Skinner realized
what Krycek reminded him of. Of Davy that first time he had had to scold him
about something. He'd found the boy sitting in just that position on the edge
of his bed, shoulders hunched, eyes concentrating on his shoes.
The boy had found the courage to ask, "Are you going to send me away now?" And
Skinner had wanted to cry at the fear and discouragement in the child's voice.
It had taken him a long time to explain to the boyto make him truly
understandthat disagreements, arguments, and yes, the occasional scolding
would sometimes occur between them. And that they were perfectly normal. That
he didn't love Davy less, or wanted him to go away: that would never happen.
He knocked on the door, following a rule he had set up so that Davy didn't take
them by surprise.
Krycek raised his head but said nothing.
"May I come in or are you busy?"
At first Krycek didn't respond. Skinner was about to head for his office when
Krycek hit a couple of keys and gestured with his head. Skinner came in and
took a seat on the couch that Krycek had added to the room when they had gone
off to furnish it. It didn't have the look Skinner had once thought it might.
Instead of being very modern, the style that, for some reason, he had associated
with Krycek, it was mainly wood, of a certain age. A large roll-top desk they
had found in a second-hand shop filled one wall while wooden bookcases filled
another. The wall opposite the desk housed the long couch that they had found
in the same shop: a dark green leather. It was then, when Skinner had pulled
out his wallet to pay, that he had found out that Krycek had money of his own.
How much, he still didn't know but more than enough to furnish his office, to
pick up one of the latest computers with all the bells and whistles, to insist
on paying his share of the expenses around the house.
Looking around the room, Skinner realized that the shelves in the bookcases were
only sparsely filled. Even after five months here. That though Davy's room had
already needed a new shelving unit for books and games and other things that
Krycek had purchasedalways, now that Skinner thought about it, after checking
with Skinner if he couldKrycek's office still did not have a sense of
permanence about it.
Damn, thought Skinner. He should have noticed before now.
Krycek turned around and watched him with those expressionless eyes of long ago.
He said nothing, waiting for Skinner to break the silence.
Skinner leaned back on the couch. "You remember working with Mulder?"
The question took Krycek by surprise. He nodded slowly as though unsure of
where Skinner was going.
"Remember how one minute you were impressed by the way his mind worked and then
the next you wanted to strangle him because he'd tried to dump you again?"
Krycek nodded. "Yeah, I remember that."
Skinner sighed his understanding. "But you never did. Even when he drove you
so crazy that you dreamt about killing him, you didn't. Because he was your
partner and the good times, the times when he made you smile or laugh, when he
taught you something about something you didn't know balanced out all the other
times."
"Until I betrayed him." Said coldly. "And you." Said even more coldly.
Skinner shrugged. "Even then, Alex, you didn't. You didn't kill me, really
kill me, and you didn't kill him. You went out of your way at some expense to
yourself to keep us alive."
"What's your point?"
"My point is," Skinner leaned forward, reached out with a hand and pulled on
Krycek's arm until he joined him on the couch, "that in any relationship there
are good times and difficult times. And the difficult times are most often
brought about because the people in the relationship are not talking to each
other. Making assumptions based on opinions that may or may not be valid."
God, thought Skinner, if Sharon were a fly on the wall, she'd be roaring her
head off. Old Stone Face talking about the importance of talking in a
relationship.
"Alex, when you left Davy with me, we weren't even sure you would be coming
back. Kids need rules and regulations. It makes them feel secure."
Krycek, sitting next to Skinner, arms around himself, softly scoffed.
"Rules and regulations, Alex. Guidelines and boundaries. Not excuses to abuse
and beat a child. The same unchanging rules so that a kid knows just how far he
can go before suffering the consequences, which are a scolding, a time out or
the withdrawal of a privilege. Not rules that change on the whim of a man who
gets off on inflicting pain."
Skinner turned enough so that he could watch Krycek's face.
"I'm sorry that once you came back to us, I didn't take the time to discuss all
this with you."
Krycek shrugged. "Wouldn't matter. I don't know anything about this kind of
life."
"Maybe not, but you are Davy's parent. And you have a say-so in his life and
how it's going to be lived. And I apologize for excluding you in all the
decisions I've taken about Davy and his life since you've come back. That's
going to change. As of right now."
Krycek looked up. "Would you have let Derrick cane Davy for fighting?"
Skinner was shocked. "Cane Davy? What..." And then things that he'd read on
the CD flashed through his mind. "Jesus, Alex, I'd have killed the bastard if
he'd even said anything like that out loud! Cane Davy..." he sputtered.
Krycek actually relaxed. "Yeah, well, me too."
Skinner slipped into his A.D. voice. "That is one thing we are going to have to
agree on right now, Alex. There will never be any physical punishment in this
house. Never. Davy is not going to be hit by either one of us, ever. That has
to be agreed upon right now. Understand."
Krycek nodded. "Agreed."
Skinner breathed hard for a moment then sighed loudly. "Okay. That's one thing
out of the way. Now about yesterday. I should have asked you if you wanted to
deal with the situation."
Krycek shook his head, more determinedly the more Skinner spoke.
"Yes, I just assumed that you agreed with me and I shouldn't have done that. I
should have discussed the situation with you and together, we should have spoken
to Davy. Why are you still shaking your head?"
Krycek took a moment to angle himself in the opposite corner. "First of all, I
have no idea how to handle this or any of these situations. I have very little
experience with kids. Even as a kid, they tended to keep us apart so that we
wouldn't form any attachments. Or maybe they were afraid we would gang up on
them. I don't know. All I do know is I find all this talk about fighting never
solving anything a little ironic coming from an ex-Marine who fought his way up
the ranks of the FBI and who boxes as a hobby. That's all."
Skinner opened his mouth but nothing came out. He closed it and sat back.
"Shit! You're right. Still, if Nam taught me anything, it's that fighting
doesn't mean victory or winning."
"Maybe. But there are things worth fighting for. Nam must have taught you that
if nothing else. Whether you do it with your fists or words, at one point if
you're attacked, you do have to stand up for yourself. That's all Davy and
Slaven were doing. Standing up for something. In this case, it was Davy going
to Slaven's support, but I don't doubt that if we had been the ones slandered,
if Davy had gone in swinging to defend us, Slaven would have jumped in just as
quickly as Davy did for him."
Skinner closed his eyes. Damn, this parenting thing was not fucking easy.
Neither was this taking another opinion into account. "Did you see the size of
that kid? He made three of them together easily."
Krycek nodded. "That makes them idiots, not potential assassins. Or is that
what you're worried about? That you've remembered that Davy is me."
Skinner opened his eyes. "You were not born an assassin. You were made into
one. Davy is no more a potential assassin than...than Barney will ever accept
sleeping on his bed all night." He was pleased to see a hint of a smile on
Krycek's face at that. "The kid could have hurt them both badly."
Krycek nodded. "That's why they need to learn to fight properly."
"And so?"
Krycek hesitated.
"Alex, I'm serious. I want to hear what you think. This is important, not just
for the two of us, but for Davy as well."
"There's a karate club at the College, one evening a week."
Skinner thought about that. "Responsible fighting."
Krycek said nothing, just watched as a slow smile lit Skinner face. "Yeah."
With a quick movement, Skinner pulled Krycek over to him, tugged until Krycek
was in his arms, head resting on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Alex. I should have
involved you right away. He's your kid as well as mine."
Krycek shrugged. "I just don't want him hurt," he muttered against Skinner's
neck.
"I know."
They sat that way for a few minutes. "Alex?"
"Hmm?"
"We have to talk about us."
"What about us?"
Skinner pulled back so that he could see Krycek's face. "Alex, why do I have the
impression that you're ready to leave at a moment's notice?"
Krycek tried to pull out of Skinner's arms, but they merely tightened around
him. "Alex. We've been living together for five months now. Do you realize
that you still call me Skinner? Never Walter. Or Walt."
Krycek stilled. He looked up at the man watching him.
"Alex, do I make you feel like a visitor, not part of this family?"
Krycek rested his head against Skinner's shoulder and thought before he started
speaking, carefully finding his words.
"To be honest, I don't know what I feel like. Ski..." He stopped, took a
breath and started again. "Walter. Walter, I don't have any memories of family.
I don't know what you expect of me. I think you like having me around but I
also think, one day, you're going to wake up and ask yourself what the fuck
you're doing with an assassin, with a man who played games with people's lives.
People you care deeply about."
Walter rested his cheek on Alex's head. "I thought we'd dealt with that, Alex."
Alex shrugged. "Yeah, well, the rules were forever changing in my world. It's
what I'm used to."
"Well, the rules in this world, at least in this house, won't change. I want
you in my life, Alex. Not just because of Davy. But because I want you. Let's
start with the obvious. I want you in my bed because I get great pleasure out
of touching you and of having you touch me. And the sex is marvelous, whether
we go at it like otters or just bring each other off."
Alex snorted, but didn't deny it. Walter grinned and went on.
"I want you in my life because I like the man that you've turned out to be. The
one you kept hidden under the thick skin you grew years ago. The one that you
let me and Davy see.
"And, you know, I think that part of the problem we're having right now is that
we are two men who are use to being at work almost twenty-four hours a day. The
last five months were necessary. We both needed to adjust to the move, to this
new life. To the fact that we both will not be returning to the kind of work
that once dominated our lives. Let's face it, Alex, you needed the time to get
yourself back into shaperemember what you looked like when you came back? and I needed the time to remind my body what it's like living without almost
continual stress.
"Well, we've done that and now we're bored. I think, Alex, that it's time we
found ourselves some work to do. Something that will give our minds something
else to do other than tip-toe around each other and focus on Davy. Hell, the
kid needs breathing space, too. Otherwise we're going to stifle him."
"You got anything specific in mind?" Alex wriggled so that he was more
comfortable.
"Yeah. Well, Quantico wants me to produce a training manual about methodology
for them. Maybe give a couple of lectures a year to special groups."
Alex grunted. "Methodology. Sounds right up your alley," he finally said.
"What about you, Alex? What would you like to do?"
Alex hesitated. "Natasha wants me to do some tutoring this summer at the
College. In Russian."
"And would you like to do that?"
"Can you see me in the classroom?"
Walter thought Alex sounded as though he needed reassurance. "Yes. Why not?
I've seen you with Davy and the other kids when you're explaining something
about the computer to them. You're good at explaining things clearly. Language
shouldn't be any different."
"The College is going to want a security check on me as well as other things."
Walter grinned. "So, what's the problem? Just contact the Gunmen. They'll
take care of that. At the same time, we can invite them to come up for a visit
so that they can check out the area."
Alex grinned back. "Are you sure you want them up here? From what Davy's told
me, they won't be happy with our security system."
Walter shrugged. "So they can play with that at the same time. Besides, can
you see Langley and Charlie discussing conspiracies?"
Alex laughed. "Natasha will kill you!"
"Why will Slaven's Mom kill Papa?"
The two men looked up to see the child watching them from the doorway. Walter
held out a hand and Davy came in and joined then at the foot of the couch.
"You know how Natasha feels about sensible things? Well, Charlie believes that
things like ghosts exist. And if the Gunmen do come for a visit..."
Davy giggled. "Mr. Rush gets almost as loud as Ringo does when he gets
excited."
"Not to mention," added Alex, "that Natasha doesn't approve of such things."
Davy suddenly got very serious. "She doesn't approve of ghosts and things like
that." He looked up at the two men. "I guess she wouldn't approve of clones,
too."
Alex reached out his hand and pulled the boy on top of him. Walter decided that
Alex had to be the one to deal with this and sat back.
"Natasha doesn't approve of things that she's never met. If she'd meet a ghost,
a nice one, then she'd be fine with that. But she's never met one, so she
doesn't approve. Now you, she knows you. She's likes you as a friend for
Slaven. She's had you over for supper. She approves of you.
"If we went to her and told her that you were a clone, she would probably raise
her eyebrow really high..." Alex did a fine imitation of Natasha's raised
eyebrow. "...and look at you in that way she does when one of you kids is
explaining how Gorky and Barney got all wet and muddy..." Alex added the look.
Davy giggled and Walter laughed. "...and then she'd say..." Alex cleared his
throat and imitated Natasha's cadence to a T. "...'And what does all this have
to do with the price of fish in Odessa?'" Alex waited until Davy's giggles
stopped. "And it wouldn't matter in the least to her or to Slaven. Or to any
of the Rushes. But, yes, it might to others so that's why we don't talk about
it, Davy. And besides, it's not anybody's business but ours."
"See," whispered Walter, "you can do this parenting thing."
Alex smiled sheepishly but was pleased. However, Davy was frowning again. He'd
pulled himself up and was sitting on Alex's stomach, a leg to either side. He
seemed very pre-occupied with Alex's belt.
"Is there something else you'd like to talk about, Davy?" Walter wondered what
was causing that worried look on the child's face.
Davy murmured something, still playing with Alex's belt.
"Davy, you can talk to us about anything you know," Walter added. "We promise
we'll always listen."
Davy examined both of their faces. "You sleep together in the same bed."
"Yes," agreed Walter. Dear god, he thought, am I ready for this?
"Do you and Alex have sex, too?"
"Yes," said Alex, "we do. Do you understand what that means?"
Davy looked insulted. "We did reproduction in class, you know. I got an A
plus, remember?"
"Yes, you did," Walter braced himself though he smiled at the boy.
"We did all the different ways plants and animals reproduce." Davy sounded
still a little insulted.
"Huh-hum," nodded Walter.
"So, I guess what I want to know is," he looked at them directly as though
challenging them to tell him the truth, "is one of you going to get pregnant
like Mrs. Rush?"
There were two open mouths as two heads shook. "No!" "Never going to happen!"
Walter took a breath and forced himself to ask calmly, "Why, Davy? Do you want
a brother or a sister?"
Davy went back to playing with Alex's belt. He thought for several moments
before answering. "No. I don't think so. I mean I like going over to Slaven's
and playing there, but it can get really noisy what with everyone playing
different music and the babies crying and Gorky barking. I like coming back
here where I can hear myself think."
"Well," said Alex, voice sincere, "we can promise you that you're never going to
have to worry about that."
Davy looked up. "And then I won't have to share you two with anyone."
"Just the three of us, sharing each other with each other." Walter wondered if
that was all bothering the child since he was still very serious. "Anything
else, Davy?"
Davy stopped playing with the belt and peered up from under his lashes. "Alex,
are you staying with us?"
Walter squeezed Alex's shoulder. Poor man, he was going to have to deal with
this one also. "Yes, I'm staying. Why are you asking, Davy?"
Davy shrugged and went back to playing with the belt. "Don't know."
Walter nudged. "Is it because Alex and I did something to make you worry,
Davy?"
Another shrug.
"Davy? Please." Walter wondered how much he should nudge.
"Alex was angry yesterday and this morning about what happened."
"Yes, he was, but not at you."
Alex reached out and took the boy's hand from his belt. "Davy. Look at me.
Why would you think I would leave because of yesterday?"
"I thought," whispered the child, looking at their joined hands, "that you might
think that I was too much trouble. I mean, the last time there was a fight
about me, you got shot."
Walter winced. Alex shook his head. "That happened because I didn't duck fast
enough. And I never thought you were responsible for that in any way, Davy."
"So you're not sorry you found me and stole me?"
"Davy! Never!" Alex pulled the child into his arms and held him tightly
against his chest. "That was the very best thing that ever happened to me. Even
the getting shot ended up being a good thing. It brought us to Walter and
Middlebury and ...and Barney. Davy, if it hadn't been for you, I would probably
be dead by now. Never ever think that. I would cut off my good arm rather than
let you think that."
Walter watched the child cling to the man. He stroked the small back as he
thought how kids carried a heavier load than he'd ever thought possible. And it
amazed him how long kids held on to their insecurities no matter what you said
to try and convince them otherwise. "In fact, Davy, if he hadn't found you and
brought you to me, I'd probably be turning into a real bear at work. Remember
how Doctor Fischer told you that you had to see to it that I loosened up? Well,
without you, I'd probably be fighting off an ulcer and be ill and ... Damn it,
Davy, I can't imagine what my life would be without you. Without the two of
you."
After a few minutes, Alex slipped a hand under the child's chin to raise his
face. "Davy. This is my fault, isn't it? Listen to me. I'm not very good at
this family thing. I'm new at it. You've had more experience being part of a
family than I have."
Davy sniffed loudly and allowed Skinner to offer him a tissue. "Are you a
clone, too?"
Alex shook his head. "No. Even before I was given to the Consortium, I really
didn't have a family."
Walter's hand tightened on his shoulder, as encouragement.
"My parents...they were scientists with the Consortium. They were more
interested in their labs than in me. It was a relief to them when the
Consortium asked for me. So you see, you're going to have to be very patient
with me as I learn about all this stuff. Is that okay?"
Davy sniffed, blew his nose again. He nodded. "I finished my composition for
Mr. Derrick. Can we have pizza for supper?"
The quick switch took Alex by surprise. Walter just grinned. "Sounds like a
plan. Why don't you go get your composition and read it to us and then we'll
order."
"Okay." All smiles, Davy bounced on Alex's stomach and went off to get his
work.
"Wha..." Alex was stunned.
Walter patted him on the stomach. "Welcome to the wild and woolly world of
childhood. From pregnancy to soul-shattering discussion to pizza all in the
space of a few minutes."
Alex sat up, shaking his head.
"By the way, you handled your bit really well. Congratulations."
"I didn't lie to him," Alex was still wondering at Davy's reactions.
"No. He'd have known if you had."
Alex turned to face Walter. "How could he think..."
"He's you, Alex. How could you think that I would wake one day and decide, just
like that, I wouldn't want you?"
Alex shrugged.
"Same reason." Walter reached for Alex's head and pulled it to his. His kiss
was very thorough.
"You're doing it again," Davy sighed as he came back in.
Walter grinned. "Yes, we are. Get use to it, me boy. Your parents will be
discreet but, in this house, we will not hide the fact that we love each other.
You can expect to see a lot of hugging and kissing and even cuddling. I mean,
after all, why should you be the only recipient, eh?"
Davy condescended to nod. "Well, since it won't make Alex pregnant..."
"Why Alex?" asked Walter, making room on the couch for Davy.
"Well, Mrs. Morgan said that it was the female of the species who had the
babies...except for seahorses and Alex isn't a seahorse.'
"Thanks for noticing," muttered Alex.
"That still doesn't answer my question, Davy. Why would you say that Alex would
be the one get pregnant? I mean, as you pointed out, he's not a seahorse, but
he's also not...'the female of the species'."
Davy looked up from his paper. "Well, Ringo said that you were my father
because they had put together all the paper work that said you were, but that
Alex was the one who had provided the cells that created me. And that made him
my mother."
"When did Ringo explain all that to you?" Walter glared at Alex whose mouth was
wide open. If the Gunmen did come for a visit, he was going to have a little
talk with Ringo Langley, hopefully before Alex got to him.
"The night they stayed with me 'cause you had to work all night. I heard them
talking about clones and I asked them how clones were made. They knew I was a
clone so they explained it all to me. About how regular babies were made and
how I had been made. I think," he added, in a very thoughtful tone, "that my
way is best. The other way sounded really messy."
Alex had to slap Walter on the back to get him to stop choking.
Nevertheless, their family grew.
The Dog Lady, as Davy called the woman with the unwanted dogs, did follow
through with her threat to drop in unannounced.
Which was why, one Thursday evening, while Alex was waiting at the College
Library for Davy and Slaven to finish with their karate lesson in the College
gym, she called and wondered if, considering the amount of back yard that they
had, the fact that it really wasn't good for a dog to be an "only dog", they all
might like to come up to her farm and see something that she thought might suit
all four of them well.
Walter thought about it, indicated that he'd discuss it with Alex and get back
to her. He didn't need to discuss it with Davy. Davy never thought there might
be too many animals around.
Alex shrugged and offered they might like to see what she had in mind for them
before they made any decision.
It was a boxer mix. About a year old. Already trained. Her owners were
suddenly expecting a child of their own and had decided that they could care for
one but not both.
Barney and Kaisernot after the old monarchist leader of Germany, but for the
fact that she inhaled the rolls if left unattended near sometook a few
minutes to sniff each other out. For Barney to indicate that though younger,
he was top dog, and that was that. The Krycek-Skinner residence had
increased by one dog.
Walter looked around for Alex and finally found him, sitting in one of the low
runs with a dog that was warily allowing itself to be stroked.
"Damn!" whispered the Dog Lady. "Well, what do you know?"
The pup was, according to the woman and her vet, an unidentifiable mixture of
whatever had given him long legs and a thin body, a mottled shaggy coat that
once properly groomed was easy enough to keep tangle-free with a weekly
brushing, a long narrow face with drooping ears. The animal had been abandoned
somewhere in the area and had lived hard for some time. It had also been hit
which was how it had ended up here, front leg in a cast, shaggy coat shaved in
spots so that the open wounds could be treated and stitched up.
"He barely allows me to touch him. And he's been here a good three weeks now."
Alex looked up. He didn't have to say anything.
They went home with three dogs.
Kaiser was not fond of bedrooms. She looked over the house carefully and then
decided that the couch in the now expanded TV room was hers, though she didn't
mind sharing with her humans when they joined her. She was also fond of
answering the doors at the slightest sound. They got to know that someone was
coming to visit long before they heard footsteps on the veranda. Kaiser was
ready to defend her territory but once introduced, she was friendly.
Unlike the other two dogs, Pushkin, Alex's dog, wasn't gregarious. He preferred
Alex's company. He'd accept Davy or Walter for a walk, only if Alex wasn't
around or if he insisted. Then, with a loud sigh, a sad, pathetic look, head
drooping, Pushkin would go out for his exercise. If Alex indicated it was time
for a walk, the dog was at the door in a streak, body wriggling in glee at the
chance to be with Alex in the outdoors. In either case, once outside, he loved
to romp with the other dogs, as long as there were no kids around. Children
made him very nervous.
He would have probably loved sleeping on the bed with Alex, but Walter indicated
that only he got to share Alex's bed. So, instead, Pushkin took over Alex's
office. He ignored the comfortable bed that Alex bought for him, preferring to
sleep, curled up, almost like a cat, in the '50's green leatherette chair with
the deep arms that Davy had found at a garage sale for the office. It was a
tight fit, but that's what he went back to, no matter what else he was offered.
Walter stopped teasing Alex about his cat-dog when they got a visit from the
local sheriff and Pushkin suddenly developed a deep-throated rumble as the man
approached Alex.
Steve Granger had a son in Davy's school, a grade younger, who took karate with
the boys. By then, he had heard the rumours about how one of the new gay couple
in town was an ex-FBI big- wig. He'd checked it out himself and, by the end of
the school year, the last parents' day, made sure that he "bumped" into the two
men. He'd tried to do a background search on the Assistant Director's partner,
but had only came up with "Access denied" in too many law enforcement data banks
that depended on the FBI's for information. Other information on the man, which
the College had been more than happy to accept, seemed just a little too "real"
for him. He was a local boy, but he had done his training and gotten his
experience with the Chicago Police Department before he'd decided it was best
for his marriage, his kids and his own sanity and health to come home.
He invited the two men to come join him and his crew when they took over the
local shooting club once a month in order to maintain their firing skills. Not
that there was much need for them, but there were still the occasional feud that
flamed up in the hills around Ripton and now and then, they did have to deal
with the brutal reality of life in the 21st Century.
After a quick but silent exchange between the two men, Skinner agreed for both
of them.
Granger was no slouch with a weapon. Neither were his men. Most of them came
from the State and had learnt to hunt and handle a rifle at an early age.
Skinner, thought Granger, after watching him shoot, was more than decent. He
hadn't lost his touch sitting on his ass eight years in a big office. But the
partner, that was another story. By the time he was through, Granger knew that
there was a reason for those "Access denied" messages. He'd bet his entire
retirement fund that the man was a killer. Each bullet fired went exactly where
he wanted it to.
"I wonder," he said causally to Skinner as they walked out to their cars, "what
I would find if I had the right password to get into his FBI file?"
Skinner stopped and Granger got to meet the Assistant Director. "You'd find
that you'd have gotten yourself a lot of trouble for nothing. All you need know
about Alex Krycek is that he is my lover and Davy's uncle."
Granger swallowed hard and invited the men to join them every month. Krycek was
too good not to hit on for some instruction. Then, at his men's instigation, he
invited Skinner to give them a talk on procedures and discovered that the man
was quite willing to share, with none of the usual jurisdictional lines drawn.
Still, more than a few of the parents were a little wary of allowing their kids
to hang around the old Farmer place. Some of them would never change their
minds but enough did when it became obvious that one of the men was always more
than willing to supervise the kids when they headed for the swimming hole or to
organize some activity to keep them occupied. Especially as the Sheriff's kids
were often part of the crowd.
Alex was surprised to find that having lost an arm, having more than a couple of
"interesting" scars on his body meant that the kids were quite willing to listen
to him when he said something. That summer, every day he was free, usually in
the afternoon, he'd round up whatever kids and dogs were aboutPushkin
exceptedand head for the river. There, to the awe and fascination of any new
kids, he'd remove his arm, strip down to his trunks and jump in.
The older kids learnt that he didn't tolerate anything that might cause trouble.
That if they wanted to rough-house, they did so after he and the kids left.
Some visiting teenager, very sure of his physical prowess, challenged him on
that. After that episode, no one ever tried it again.
Granger pulled into the driveway as Walter came out onto the veranda, hefting a
large drink- cooler onto a table that had been set up near the barbecue where
the coals were just about ready for the hot dogs. He waited for the man to join
him, both of them looking a bit askance at the condition of the back yard.
Granger shook his head. "There have got to be what? twenty kids here at
least."
Walter shrugged. "I just check to see that my two are present and accounted
for."
Davy was indeed there. With his sidekick, Slaven. And at least five other kids
from their class. All of them busy filling up grocery-size plastic bags with
leaves, leaves that some of the smaller children, siblings of others in the
yard, were raking their way after the various dogs had gone through the pile yet
again.
In another corner of the yard, the older Rush kids were setting up a scarecrow
with the help of a couple of kids. Walter figured they were whoever the Rush
kids were dating this week. The girls from across the street were stapling dry
corn stalks to the fence that separated this yard from the neighbour'swho was
carefully keeping an eye out to make sure that none of the leaves were making
their way back onto his property. The old man finished filling a large orange
leaf bag and called over one of the smaller kids who was running about the yard.
The child awkwardly waddled over to Davy and his gang who happily took the bag,
emptied it onto their pile and handed the bag back to the little girl who
cheerfully returned it to the waiting neighbour.
"Where's the Pied Piper?" Granger looked about the yard. "Dylan! Patty!"
Two of his children came running up.
"Back seat of the car."
Walter glanced over his shoulder, wondering what goodies Patricia Anne Granger
had sent over to help feed the horde she'd gasped at when she'd dropped off her
children. Steve's wife was a firm believer in chocolate. Walter hoped there
were some of her brownies in one of those boxes. "Tree house."
Granger looked at the large oak that dominated the back yard. That summer the
two men had built a tree house in the deep fork of the oak, under the kids'
supervision. It was a true kid's delight. It had a trap door, a ladder and a
knotted rope as a means of getting up and down. There was a railing and a
covered portion where four boys could camp out comfortably in sleeping bags,
though they had discovered one night that nine could squeeze in.
As the Rush sheepdog decided to roll in yet another pile of leaves, a stuffed
dummy dropped, hanging down from the tree house, with Alex close behind landing
on his feet. "Okay," he tossed back up to the two teenagers who were helping
him. "Nice and secured. Let's see what else you've got that we can use."
"Coffee?" offered Walter.
"You two are certifiable," said Granger as he followed Walter into the kitchen.
Walter grinned as he poured out a couple of mugs of coffee. "Well, I have to
admit that I didn't have this in mind when I told Davy he could have a few
friends over to fix up a Hallowe'en scene in the back yard. I thought maybe a
few old sheets as ghosts and some rope as spiders' webs."
Granger shook his head. "The kids are having a real hoot. I can't think of any
of their parents, maybe with the exception of the Rushes, who would allow their
property to be taken over this way."
Walter smiled. "Well, this way, we know where the neighbourhood kids are.
Though, to be honest, since all of them are here, I don't know who the set-up is
going to impress tonight."
Granger laughed. "The parents. Who are going to thank you for allowing the
kids to do it here and who will go home thankful they don't have to clean up."
"Ah, Alex thought about that. Each kid had to promise to show up after lunch
tomorrow to help with the clean up. Or else."
Granger finished his coffee. "Or else what?"
Walter shrugged. "I have no idea. He's never had to follow through on that
yet."
As Granger pulled out of the yard, three other kids came charging up the
driveway, with a wagon that was heaped high with orange leaf bags. While one
pulled the wagon, the other two worked at keeping the bags from rolling off.
"Hi, Mr. Skinner. See, we found more. MR. KRYCEK!"
Walter watched as Alex helped the kids unload and open the bags then left them
to pour the leaves out while he went to check on the taller kids who were tying
the smaller bags of leaves to the bare branches of the two maples in the yard.
The youngest Derwent girl, who was about four, caught Alex's attention to show
him the pretty leaf she had found. Alex, crouching so that he was face to face
with the little girl, examined her leaf as though it were the most important
thing going.
Walter grinned. Alex Krycek and dogs and kids. Whoever would have thought it!
He went over to the barbecue and began loading it up with weiners.
"Thought you might like a little help."
Walter greeted Natasha Rush with a thankful smile. "Escaping from the twins?"
"I was up all night with them. They have decided to start teething. Both of
them. At the same time. It is now Charlie's turn. Besides," she sighed,
helping set out the napkins and condiments, "I remember what it was like in the
neighbourhood before you moved in. We often had crowds of children over at our
house and all the parents would do to help was drop their kids off and wave as
they went off to do something."
Walter grinned. "That doesn't seem to have changed."
Natasha smiled and shook her head. She switched to Russian. "And I have
ulterior motives as well. I need to ask Alex which classes he'd like to handle
next semester. Now that Yuri's doctor has indicated that he has to take the
rest of the academic year off, the shuffle means that we are hoping Alex won't
mind taking on a regular course." She glanced over her shoulder. "Or two."
Walter shrugged, speaking less hesitantly in his improving Russian. "Not going
to get involved in this. It's his decision. But you know that he's still
finding his feet in a classroom. It's not his usual environment. "
She nodded. "But of course." She checked to see that the buns were ready for
the hot dogs. "How's the book coming along?"
Voice mockingly stern, slipping back into English, Walter growled, "Showing
interest in my tome on Methodology for Quantico is not going to get me to side
with you, Natasha Sevastjana Katayev-Rush."
She laughed. "Well, it was worth a try. Will you be going to Virginia for that
conference?"
Walter shook his head. "I never thought that they'd pay me what I asked. Which
is why I asked it. But they have, so I'm off for three days next week."
Natasha grinned at him. "So very sorry to hear that they think you're worth it.
Remember to leave the hotel and phone number with us before you leave. As a
precaution. Just in case."
Walter grinned back. He had insisted on having Natasha's itinerary that Easter
when she and the children had driven to visit her family, leaving Charlie and
Gorky behind. "Thanks, I will." He walked over to the edge of the veranda. He
yelled, "Calling all sevens and younger! First round!"
Davy was driving them crazy.
Walter had read that twelve was an awkward age for boys, but this was bordering
on insane. They were both of them ready to kill the kid. It was hard to
remember that he had once said, almost jokingly, that there would come a day
that Davy would stomp up stairs, muttering invectives at his parents under his
breath, and slam his bedroom door shut. That they would still love him, no
matter what.
Well, they might still love him, but it was hard to find the likeable child in
the tense, pouting, moody demon who had taken up residence in Davy's body.
"Puberty," said Natasha and Charlie, offering sympathetic shudders.
Walter agreed on that it was the onset of puberty, but it was also more than
that. He knew it. Alex knew it. Even Davy knew it, but neither of them could
get Davy to talk about it.
Then, one day, after there had been a set-to between Walter and Davy about some
homework, Alex blew his top.
"That's it!" He shouted over the tension as he slammed the palm of his hand
down hard on the kitchen table, shocking the other two. Alex never raised his
voice. Rarely indicated that he had a temper. It effectively silenced both of
them.
Alex pointed to a chair at the kitchen table. "Davy. Sit."
Without a word, eyes wide open, still taken aback by Alex's reaction, Davy sat.
So did the dogs who had been anxiously watching the scene.
"Walter, you, too."
Walter sat. After nearly four years, there were times when Alex took him
completely by surprise. While he'd been hoping that Alex could come up with
some insight into Davy's behaviour, he wasn't sure what the hell was going on
right now, but he was tired of dealing with Davy on his own and was more than
happy to leave the field open to Alex.
"Okay. Enough is enough, Daveed Krycek Skinner. We know that things are
happening that are upsetting you, but so far you're refusing to let us help you.
That's what we're here for. Unfortunately, neither of us is a mind-reader, so
you're going to have to let us in on what the problem is. I know that Natasha
says it's puberty and that all kids' bodies go through some chemical change at
this age, but it's more than that, Davy.
"Now we've been pretty tolerant, but unless you start telling us what's bugging
you, you're going to find yourself grounded for the rest of your life." Alex
pulled out a chair and sat watching the boy who seemed to be growing an inch a
week these past months. All arms and legs, hands and feet awkwardly large for
the still growing body. Mouth mulishly set.
Eyes frightened.
Alex gentled his tone. "Davy, we love you. We will always love you. No matter
what. Please, can't you find it in yourself to tell us what's wrong?"
Davy looked at his hands lying flat on the table for several minutes.
Alex was wondering just what he could say to get the kid talking when he did.
Low, mumbled. Inaudible.
"I'm sorry, Davy, I didn't catch any of that. Would you try again?"
Davy sighed deeply, looked up at his worried parents. "I think there's
something really wrong with me."
Walter got out of his chair and took one closer to the boy. He placed his hand
on one of the boy's nervous ones and held it still. Voice infused with a calm
he didn't feel, he asked, "What do you think is wrong with you, Davy?"
Davy looked from Walter to Alex. "I'm your clone, right?"
Alex nodded. "There's nothing new about that, Davy. We never hid it from you."
Davy nodded, bitting his lower lip as he gathered the courage to continue.
Walter gave the cold hand under his an encouraging squeeze.
"You sleep with Papa. Have sex with him."
"Nothing new there either, Davy." Alex spoke in the same tone that he used when
Pushkin was frightened by something that he couldn't get anyone to understand.
Davy nodded again. "I'm your clone," he repeated, "I should be like you."
"How like me?"
Davy looked from Alex to Walter. Frustrated, he struggled with the words.
"Remember last month? When the high school had the car wash as a fund raiser?
And they didn't want us elementary," he sneered, "kids around to get under
their feet?"
Alex nodded. He glanced at Walter who looked as lost as he felt.
"Well, we watched them from the big tree by the parking lot."
"We?"
"Yeah, me, Slaven and Maggie."
Maggie had joined the select group of kids who hung around the house since she'd
moved to the town with her parents that September.
"Okay," recapped Alex, "you, Slaven and Maggie are in the tree watching the high
school kids wash cars."
Davy nodded. "It was a hot day, remember? And all of them were wearing things
like shorts and tank tops or bathing suits."
"That's a good idea," said Alex, giving Davy time to find the words to continue,
"when there's that much water around."
Davy nodded, almost grateful. "That's when it happened. They were all wet and
tossing buckets of water over each other and... I...got..." Davy's voice faded
into a faint whisper, "...hard."
There was a moment's silence as the two adults finally clued in.
"You had an erection?" Walter kept his voice sympathetic though he almost had
to bite his lips to keep from laughing. All this angst for an erection!
"But?" asked Alex, having clued in that, worrisome though that was, it wasn't
the cause of Davy's behaviour.
Davy lowered his head, his hair falling forward as though he was looking for
something behind which to hide.
Walter exchanged a worried glance with Alex before giving Davy's hand a tighter
squeeze. "Davy, whatever it is, you can tell us. Erections are a natural
occurrence for the male of the species. We've spoken about that before. But
did something else happen?"
Damn, thought Walter, had someone touched his child?
"You don't understand." Davy was almost in tears.
"Then," Alex's voice was softly encouraging, "you'd better try and explain it to
us, Davy."
"I got hard watching Joanna Ryan!" he shouted. "There! You see!"
But they didn't. Davy freed his hands and used them to wipe the hair back off
his face. He tried again. "I should have gotten hard watching Tommy Baker or
John Douglas. Maggie thought they were extreme hunks. But nothing happened
when I watched them. But Joanna Ryan was wearing this thing that barely covered
her nipples and she was jumping up and down, squealing whenever the guys hosed
her, and her...her..." He made a cupping gesture with his hands.
"Breasts," Walter offered.
"They were jiggling and all I could think of was touching them and I got hard!"
Davy was in tears. "What's wrong with me?"
Alex grabbed one of Davy's hands in his. Walter reached and snagged a near-by
box of tissues. He pulled several out and offered them to the boy. They both
waited until Davy blew his nose and wiped his face.
"First of all, Davy, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you." Walter shook
his head at the boy ready to challenge his statement. "What happened is what is
supposed to happen. You saw something that turned you on sexually and your body
reacted to that."
"But it should have been the guys, not a girl!"
"Because you're my clone?" Alex cocked his head. "Is that it, Davy?"
Davy found the table top very interesting but finally nodded.
Alex frowned. This was something neither he nor Walter had ever thought about.
He looked at Walter who shrugged and tossed the ball back at him.
"Davy, look at me, please. Now listen to me. Yes, you are my clone. All that
means is that genetically, you are my double. Like an identical twin, but
younger. When you grow up, you know exactly what you're going to look like
because you see me, you see my face every day. But that's it, Davy. That's all.
The rest of you is you, not me. We have different experiences, we have
different pasts, we'll have different futures."
"But I'm your clone. I should be just like you."
"Look like me, yes. Be me, no. Davy, sexuality is an individual thing. There
are identical twins, one of whom is gay while the other is straight."
Davy just shook his head, not really believing.
Walter leaned forward. "Davy, you know how you hate cooked turnips?"
Davy, confused by the change in topic, had to take a moment to think about that.
"Yeah?"
"But Alex loves cooked turnips. And no matter how you've tried them...with
brown sugar...with butter... you hate the stuff. Am I right?"
Davy nodded.
"If your theory on clones was right, you should love the stuff as much as Alex
does. But you don't now, do you?"
"No." The thought seemed to cheer Davy up. "No, I really hate the taste of
them."
"So then why shouldn't you find females a turn on? There's nothing that says
you shouldn't or can't. It's obvious that your mind and body find them
attractive."
"So there's nothing weird about me? Nothing that needs to be fixed?"
"Just because you get turned on by women and not men?" Walter grinned with
relief. "Nothing in the least."
"Nothing in the least." Alex repeated as he pulled his clone into his arms and
gave him a tight hug before passing him onto Walter.
"I'm sorry, Alex, I'm sorry, Papa, for the way I've been. I thought that maybe
you'd be disgusted by me."
"Disgusted!" Walter gave the boy a gentle shake. "Never ever. We love you too
much for that to ever happen."
Alex leaned back in his chair. "Even if we really didn't like you much these
days, kiddo, we never stopped loving you."
Walter gave the boy another hug and then sat him back in his chair. "Now that's
out of the way, I think we'd better have a little talk about what is acceptable
behaviour where women are concerned."
"The whys and wherefores," added Alex. "And it's never too early to be reminded
about condoms."
Davy rolled his eyes, relieved to discover that there was nothing weird about
him, but already slightly embarrassed to be discussing condoms with his parents.
"Papa!," he whined. "Ahh...lex!"
Alex rolled over and let his body laze as the slight breeze from the open window
cooled the sweat off it.
Walter covered his eyes with an arm and sighed happily. Damn, but he loved it
when Alex let loose his usual restraint and went feral on him that way.
"You know," Alex said after several minutes.
On the verge of slipping into sleep, Walter forced himself to give an
interrogative grunt by way of response.
"I feel sorry for the kid."
Walter opened his eyes and thought about the situation. "Yeah, puberty's no fun
at the best of times."
"Not that." Alex turned onto his side, facing Walter. "Yes, I'm sorry he's had
such a hard time of it these last few weeks, worrying about being straight, but
that's not why I feel sorry for him."
Walter watched the face that was above his. Domestic life seemed to suit Alex
very well. And not just physically. He'd gradually put back some weight so
that he came across as less honed and dangerous. And he'd lost that tension he'd
carried along with him so that he looked more like the teaching assistant he'd
become. "Then why?"
Alex propped his cheek against his raised fist. "He'll never know how wonderful
it feels to have someone like you as his lover. Never know the pleasure of
being royally fucked into the mattress by one Walter S. Skinner-type."
Walter grinned, raised his hand to caress the cheek that was free. He was about
to say something when Alex continued.
"Of being loved by you. And of loving you."
That last caught Walter's breath. He swallowed hard. "Thank you."
Alex shrugged as best he could. "I know it's not something I've often said to
you," he acknowledged.
"Actually," Walter smiled gently, "it's the first time that you've ever said
something like that to me."
"The first time?" That worried Alex. "Are you sure?"
"Well, the first time you say the words. You've never let me doubt how you feel
about me, Alex, but you've never actually said the words until now."
Alex was stunned. "But..."
Walter grinned. "It's okay, Alex." Actually, it had made him understand how
Sharon must have felt. "I mean, I know you love me, but it's just nice to hear
the words. Sorta reassuring that it's not a one-way street."
"Fuck! No way! Walter, I'm sorry, I thought..."
Walter placed his fingers over Alex's mouth. "Alex. I don't say it often
enough either. We're men, you know. The strong, silent type. We just assume
that actions speak louder than words. And they do, Alex. For us, they have done
and will continue doing so. But for the record, I love you, Alex Krycek. Very
much."
Alex lowered his mouth so that it hovered over Walter's, his eyes close enough
that, even in the faint moonlight, Walter could make out the intense emotion in
them. "I love you, Walter. More than I ever thought it was possible to love
another being. And I will remember to say it from now on."
Walter raised his head enough so that their mouths met. His arms reached and
pulled his lover down to him. When they finally released, Alex's head against
his own, Walter muttered, "I wish I were twenty again, just so I could make love
to you a second time tonight."
Alex chuckled. "Well, you're not and I'm not. But I don't mind giving it a try
if you're game."
They went slowly, each gesture now suddenly made all that much more sensual as
there were words that accompanied the touches. Words that Walter discovered he
had wanted to say for a long time, words that thrilled him to hear whispered in
his ear, against his skin. Words that spilled out of his lover in several
languages. Words serving to inflame them both.
This time, they lay snuggled up close to each other, cooling in the night
breeze.
"Not bad for two old geezers," yawned Walter.
"Love you," murmured Alex.
The sound of the doorbell startled him in his office.
Not a sound often heard, not with Kaiser ever on the alert. But the dogs were
off with Alex and Walter had to think about which door was requesting his
presence.
He went down the stairs, to the front door, wondering who the hell would
actually take the time to ring at their door. Most people knew to come round to
the kitchen door.
"Yes..."
And that was all that made it out of his mouth.
The couple at the door were smiling broadly at him.
"So," said the man, "this is where Assistant Directors hide out."
The woman raised an eyebrow at the comment. "Good afternoon, sir."
Shit! thought Walter. Mulder? Scully? Here?
"Have we arrived at an inconvenient time, sir?" Scully sent one of those
I-told-you-so looks at her husband. Mulder just grinned and shrugged.
"Sorry, sir. We were in the area and remembered that you had moved up here some
time ago. We took the chance..."
"Yes, yes, of course." Walter stepped back, realizing that his reception could
be construed as less than welcoming. That's when he noticed the boy. What was
his name? Oh, yes, William. "Come in, come in."
He looked around the entrance that had become a bit of a storage area for the
men. They rarely had any reason to use the front area so that it had, over the
years, gathered the usual debris a male household produced. Three pairs of
roller blades. Damn, didn't they hang those up any more? The hockey stick and
goalie pads that Davy used when playing street hockey with the neighbourhood
kids. A pair of baseball mitts, a ball and a bat. Davy's and Alex's gym bags
which, from the aroma that wafted up, were probably due for their monthly clean
out. Two boxes of newspapers ready for the Scouts recycling run. A couple of
well-chewed sticks, something the dogs had brought in.
With a smile, hopinghopelessly that Scully was not as meticulous a
housekeeper as her reports had been, Walter led his surprise visitors into the
large family room. This would be the week the parlour was unuseable as they
were in the process of repainting it.
With a smile, he indicated the better of the two couches and watched as Mulder
examined the room with a delighted grin. Yes, it wasn't that much better than
the entry either. Davy had had his gang over last night to watch some game on
the wide-screen TV, followed by at least three of those movies boys his age were
so fond of watching. Someone had left a jacket and a plate on the pool table.
There was still a bowl on the battered coffee table with remnants of popcorn, a
couple of empty large bags of chips and a few apple cores as well as a pyramid
of Coke cans. Not to mention the crumbs that decorated the carpet by the couches
and armchairs.
Damn it, he'd been busy with that article he had promised Granger he'd have for
him by the end of the weekend. He hadn't taken time to check if Davy and his
friends had cleaned up. He guessed that Davy thought he'd get around to that
this morning but then, glancing at his watch, come to think of it, Davy hadn't
yet gotten out of bed. What time had he finally hit the sack last night? No,
this morning.
As Scully and Mulder were casing the room, exchanging those silent messages
married couples did, Walter took a moment to examine the boy. He'd been born
when they'd left D.C. So what did that make him? Eight? Nine?
And looking at the boy, Walter suddenly found himself grinning. The Mulder
nose. The Mulder mouth. The Mulder eyes. The Mulder build. Damn but if
Scully hadn't gone and given birth to a Mulder clone. Explained a few things.
Such as how a woman made barren suddenly got pregnant.
He dropped into his favourite chair and smiled, more at ease with this visit now
than he had been. "So what were you doing up here? The last I heard, you,
Agent Scully, were at Quantico, teaching forensics."
"Actually, sir, it's no longer Agent, merely Doctor. I'm still teaching
forensics but at Georgetown."
Walter smiled as he nodded. "And do you enjoy that?"
"Yes, sir, I do. It's very fulfilling." She smiled back at him, slowly working
her way to the back of the couch.
Walter hoped that she wouldn't mind the dog hair on her black pants.
"And what are you up to these days, Mulder?"
"Psychology. I have a private practice and I occasionally provide profiles for
the VCUs of different law enforcement agencies."
Walter nodded. "That must keep you busy."
Scully grinned at him openly. "And out of trouble?" she added.
Walter grinned back.
"Actually," said Mulder, laughing slightly at his wife's reminder of his days
back when he worked under the Assistant Director, "we're on our way back from a
seminar in Boston and we decided to take the long way home. We knew that you
had retired here, so we looked you up in the phone book and took the chance that
you might be at home today."
Before Walter could ask them if there was a reason behind the visit, they were
interrupted by the sound of an elephant charging down the stairs.
Walter sighed. How many times had they...
"Papa, I know we didn't clean up last night but..."
Davy came into the room, his usual cyclone self. He was wearing jeans that he
probably had slept in, a green hockey sweater with his name on the back, and in
his stocking feet because his joggers were still on the veranda at the back
door, encrusted with the mud he had brought home with him after spending the
evening cleaning up the bank of the swimming hole with Slaven and Maggie and
whomever else they had managed to drag along.
His entry caused a variety of reactions. Mulder and Scully stood up. "Krycek!"
William joined them. "Green! Your hair is green!"
Standing, Walter smiled at the boy, grinned at the adults. "I don't think
you've ever met my son, Daveed, have you?"
"Your son!" Mulder looked stunned.
Walter nodded. "Davy, I'd like you to meet Doctor Dana Scully and Doctor Fox
Mulder. They used to work in one of the departments under me, the X-Files."
Davy nodded at them in a friendly manner. "I've heard those names before. I'm
pleased to meet you, Dr. Scully. Dr. Mulder."
Walter enjoyed the stunned looks on the faces of their visitors. At seventeen,
Davy was still a couple of inches shy of his full height but hours of playing
hockey had filled the shoulders and chest so that his resemblance to the adult
Alex Krycek was striking. Of course, the green hair added a certain
je-ne-sais-quoi. Not something that Alex would ever be caught dead wearing.
"Why is your hair green?"
Davy crouched to face the child.
Scully made to move as though to protect her child but Mulder quickly placed his
hand on her arm. Walter lost his smile. The kids ignored them.
"So that it matches the colour of my sweater. See. The green and white are the
colours of the Middlebury Green Mountain Boys. That's my hockey team. I'm one
of their goalies. We were in the State finals and we thought, the team did,
that the hair might make us play better."
"And did it?" The child's eyes were bright with fascination.
"Nope. We got creamed in the semi-finals. But it was fun." Davy looked up,
eyes laughing. "Besides, it drove some of the parents crazy and that was fun,
too."
Walter scoffed. "Granger finally admitted it was something he would have done
at your ages, too."
"The only reason the sheriff didn't go ballistic when he saw Dylan is because
you found it funny. Frankly, a lot of the kids were hoping that you would. They
figured if you backed us, their parents would freak out less."
Walter shook his head. "What use would freaking out have been? It was a done
deal by the time I saw it. And I don't have to handle the looks and the
questions." He sighed, hoping for some commiseration from the two who were
still silently absorbing the presence and look of his son. "I just have to live
with it. Not so easy first thing in the morning."
And then there was the sound of a truck arriving, dogs barking and the kitchen
door slamming. "Davy! Get those joggers cleaned up before Kaiser thinks they're
a snack."
And there was the thud of what Walter knew were pizza boxes on the counter,
followed by, "Go eat your own food!"
And then Alex Krycek walked into the room, sunglasses shoved up to the top of
his head, thin cigarillo in his mouth, dogs at his feet.
"Dear lord!" Scully looked aghast.
Alex came to a dead stop, causing Pushkin to plough into him.
"Dogs! You have dogs!" William squealed with delight. "Three of them!" He
looked up as Barney came over to sniff him. "Can I pat them?" he asked Davy.
"William," Scully unfroze enough to approach her son.
Davy ignored her for William. "Sure. Barney's pretty cool. He likes pats.
Kaiser, let her smell you really well before you try touching her. She just
wants to make sure that you're not another dog muscling in on her territory. As
for Pushkin...well, he's hiding in the kitchen. He's afraid of kids so he may
never let you near."
"We have visitors, Alex." Walter went to stand by his lover.
"Yes, Walter, so I see." Alex spoke though clamped teeth.
The tension in the room rose enough that Kaiser stopped sniffing William and
looked nervously at the others.
"Davy," Walter smiled at the small boy who was also picking up the tension, "why
don't you show William the tree house..."
"A tree house! You have a tree house, too!"
Davy grinned and offered his hand to the child. "Yep. Papa and Alex built it
for me when I was about your age. It has a trap door and a ladder..." With the
same grin that Scully and Mulder remembered from Alex Krycek's days as an agent,
Davy took William out to the kitchen. The dogs went with them, in happy
expectation.
"That had better be your pizza you feed them," tossed Alex over his shoulder.
Davy paused in the doorway, pizza box in hand, eyes sparkling with bedevilment.
"Yes, sir, Mom." To Scully he added. "I'll keep an eye on the boy, Doctor
Scully. I'm sure you two and Papa and Alex have all sorts of things to catch up
on." Said very innocently, as though he had no idea of just who these people
were and why they had responded so strongly to the sight of him and then Alex.
Alex snorted. Walter raised an eyebrow. Davy whistled. "Come on, Push,
pizza!"
It was about an hour later when the adults went out to the yard where William
was tossing up pieces of crust for the dogs.
It had been a strangely harrowing hour for Dana Scully, to discover that not
only was Alex Krycek alive and well, but that he was happily living in a
domestic situation with a man he had once killed. With a child who was an
obvious replicant of himself. It took her almost that entire time to clue in to
the matching rings the men wore, on their right hands. Because, she reasoned, of
Krycek's only having the one real hand. Later on, Mulder would remind her that
in the Russian tradition, wedding bands were worn on the right hand.
Fox Mulder, once he had understood the situation in the house, had settled for
getting a few answers from Krycek about events that had occurred all those years
back which had bugged him since.
Both of them had been surprised to discover that Krycek was a lecturer at the
local college: Russian language and literature. That Skinner had indeed written
the methodology text that was still in use at Quantico and had a career in
speaking to police groups about cross-boundary jurisdictional procedures. That
he was often called, in an advisory capacity, to help in dealing with such
situations.
That Daveed Krycek Skinner was finishing high school, on his way to university
on a scholarship.
None of them had mentioned the obvious: that Davy was a clone.
"Mom! Watch!" William tossed a crust high into the air for Kaiser who leapt up
to catch it before it had even started its downward path.
Scully smiled at her son.
The back yard had the usual accouterment that she associated with men. There
was an older model SUV in the driveway, a pick-up truck that she assumed was
Krycek's. She wasn't certain whom the two motorcycles in disrepair that were
housed in the open garage belonged to, just that someone had dismantled the
engine of one. Leaning against the veranda were two bicycles. Those she decided
had to belong to the two young womengirls reallydressed in short shorts
and tight cropped tank tops who were leaning in flirtatious poses against the
trunk of the maple tree closest to the tree with the tree house. A tree in
which the green-haired boy lay contentedly along a branch, holding easy
conversation with the two girls.
"Well,' she said in a low tone, loud enough for just the adults to hear, "it's a
pity that they're wasting their time."
Walter stopped to look a question at her.
"Well, they seem to be very...optimistic about their chances with your...son."
Alex took a moment to relight his cigarillo "It is," he said, blowing out a
long plume of smoke, knowing that it would irritate Scully to no end, "a deep,
dark family secret that, much to our bewilderment, Davy is unabashedly
heterosexual."
"That said," Walter smiled, "you are right about their being optimistic. Scud
coming in at seven o'clock."
It took Scully a moment to understand that he was referring to the woman who was
strolling into the yard. A woman who wore a short skirt, a tight t-shirt that
revealed no skin, but a nice bosom. Who, though young, was older than the two
girls by several years. Older than Davy by at least a couple.
"Mr. Skinner. Mr. Krycek." Her voice had that low, gravelly quality that
seemed to be so popular with some men. Scully noticed that Mulder suddenly went
from playing with Kaiser and their son to smiling up at the young woman. Who
ignored him for the boy up in the tree. Who no longer saw either of the other
girls.
"Joanna." He smiled as only a young man, confident in his sexuality, can and
the two girls practically salivated, even if the smile was not directed their
way.
As Joanna approached the tree, Davy dropped lazily, like a large cat, onto the
ground.
They didn't kiss. She just went and put her arm around his waist. He let his
arm drop onto her shoulders. Walking hip by hip, they passed by the four
watching adults on their way out of the yard.
"Time?" Alex removed the small cigar from his mouth, smiling at the young woman
who grinned back at him.
"By five. I promised to coach tonight."
Walter nodded. "Have fun."
"Behave," muttered Alex, but low enough that the young couple didn't hear him.
"Grey hairs. I swear I wouldn't have any if it wasn't for him."
Walter grinned, passing his hand over his scalp, over the narrower fringe of
light grey hair. "Take a good look, Mulder. This is what puberty does to
parents."
They finally got William away from the dogs. "All I have at home are fish," he
explained to Walter. "'Cause we live in a no-pet building."
Scully used an anti-bacterial towelette to wipe his hands after she got him into
the car. Mulder nodded to Krycek who disappeared inside, probably to warn up
the pizza that had lain on the counter all this time, waiting to be eaten.
As he went to go around the car to the driver's seat, Skinner stopped him.
"Does William know?"
Mulder stilled. "Know what?"
"That he's a clone."
Mulder's face hardened as he looked at Skinner, ready to challenge him. "What
makes you say that?"
Skinner sighed. "Mulder, I've spent the last nine years living with one.
Believe me, I recognize a clone when I see one. He's you to a T."
Mulder sighed, allowed some of the tension to dissipate. "No. No, he doesn't.
We decided to wait until he can fully understand before telling him."
Skinner nodded. "Alex's decision was different. Which means that Davy's had
time to think about it. To figure out how or if he will allow it to affect his
life. So, Mulder, when you and Scully decide to tell William, if he needs to
talk to someone, to understand that he's not alone in that position, call us.
I'm sure that Davy will be happy to discuss all or any of the advantages and the
disadvantages with him."
Mulder thought about it for a moment. He looked into the car where Scully was
sitting, waiting for him to join her and their son. "Thanks. I will remember
to tell William that as well."
Walter watched the car pull out of the driveway. He checked his watch. Davy
would be gone a good three hours.
He smiled.
The package with the new toys had arrived earlier in the week.
Whistling happily, Walter went up the stairs, into the kitchen, wondering how
long it would take him to convince his lover this would be a good time to try
some of them out.
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