by Josan
He shrugged to himself. Not this morning, he guessed.
Oh, well.
He gulped down juice, grabbed a coffee for the drive in
and set off to beat the morning rush hour.
He was working his way through the pile of reports on
his desk when, around ten o'clock, Kim knocked on his
door.
"Yes?"
"Sir." She stuck her head in around the door. He
could hear some soft laughter, a giggle or two from
behind her. "Something's just been delivered for you.
Shall I bring it in?"
Skinner frowned. He wasn't expecting anything. And
just what was going on in her office? Sounded like
several people were having a meeting of some kind.
"Yes, Kim. Of course." He stood up to take a package,
an internal envelope from her... and froze.
A large bouquet of what must have been two dozen red
roses in a crystal vase preceded her into the room.
With a huge grin on her face, she set the vase down on
his desk, re-adjusted a couple of the flowers which
were in various stages of opening, from bud to full
bloom, their perfume filling the room.
He was stunned.
"There seems to be a card." Kim, eyes brimming with
delight, pointed out the small white envelope nestled
in the flowers.
Carefully, Skinner pulled it out, awkwardly opened the
small envelope with his large, blunt fingers. Pulled
the card out.
Read it.
Blushed.
With her hand over her mouth, trying hard to muffle her
giggles, Kim backed out of the room. Back to the
feminine voices that whispered and giggled as she
closed the door behind her.
Skinner stood staring at the little piece of card in
his hand, a sappy grin slowly taking over his features.
Very carefully, he put the card back into the envelope,
slipped the envelope into his breast pocket. He leaned
over to sniff the flowers and tried hard to stifle the
feelings that spread throughout his body. Gave up.
Gave in.
He sat in his chair, pulled out the little envelope,
partially removed the card, just enough to read again:
Love you. Forever.
He put the message back in his pocket and finally,
after several minutes, forced himself to go back to
reading reports.
But every time he looked up and saw the flowers, every
time a whiff of their perfume came his way, he would
smile, his heart would beat faster and he would pause
to accept the feeling of contentment that filled him.
The meeting was less boring than usual. Mainly because
of the way people kept looking at him. Old Stone Face
had gotten a delivery of red roses from some unknown
source and well, that was worth more than any gossip
about budgetary restrictions for the next month.
He found he had to get a grip on himself or he would be
squirming in his seat at the obvious question they were
all dying to ask, but wouldn't. He assumed speculation
was running rampant throughout his department.
He found out just how rampant it was, when, on his way
back to his office, his cell phone rang.
"Skinner." He was brusque. He hated answering a cell
phone in the hallway of a building filled with regular
phones.
"So," Scully's voice barely repressed her laughter,
"what's this I hear about roses?"
Skinner hated the blush he could feel colouring his
face. "How... For God's sake... Scully, haven't you got
anything better to do?"
He hung up to the sound of her laughter.
And things didn't get better.
He went striding past Kim, daring her to say anything,
on his way to his office when...
On his desk, along with the flowers...
"What the hell... Kim?" he snapped.
"Sir?"
"Just what is that on my desk?"
"I believe it's your lunch, sir." Kim was biting hard
on her bottom lip.
"I didn't order any lunch, Kim."
"No, sir. It was delivered just a few minutes ago.
There's a card with it. Sir. On the plate."
Kim waited until the door closed behind her befuddled
boss before picking up the phone.
Skinner sighed. He knew what she was doing. He went
to his chair, raised the silver dome that covered a
tray and found himself looking at an array of seafood
appetizers surrounding a dozen oysters on a half-shell.
The card said: For tonight.
He sighed, trying hard to feel put-upon. Found he
couldn't maintain the expression. A grin was taking
possession of his face. He picked up one of the
oysters, squeezed some lemon on it and swallowed it
whole.
He was going to need all the strength he could gather
for what he intended to do to the person responsible
for his being the source of Bureau gossip.
Throughout the afternoon, several of his fellow AD's,
the DD all found reasons to drop into his office. By
the time he left the office, he was feeling past
uncomfortable to plotting definite revenge.
Especially, when just as he was about to step into the
elevator, Kim came running after him. "Sir! Hold the
elevator. Sir. You forgot this." And handed him the
vase with its flowers.
He glowered and growled at anyone whose mouth even
hinted at the remote possibility of opening.
In the garage, coming out of the elevator, he almost
ran, literally, into the Director herself.
Jana Cassidy grinned at him. "Nice flowers, Walter."
And stepped around him before his temper got the better
of him.
He sighed. He set the flowers down on the roof of the
car, opened the passenger side and carefully belted in
the vase.
He found himself looking at the flowers every time he
hit a red light on the way home. Once he even reached
out to lightly caress one of the open petals.
The car horn blasting him from behind couldn't dent the
feeling he had that life was pretty good these days.
He dropped his briefcase on the kitchen table, walked
into the dining room and carefully placed the vase in
the centre of the table, gently re-arranging the
blooms, now almost all open.
The quiet of the house was broken by a soft sound that
he identified as coming from the bathroom off the main
bedroom. He went up the stairs, undoing his tie,
thinking of how he was going to torment his lover for
those little surprises that had been sprung on him.
He was pulling off his tie as he opened the door,
"Alex, I've got a..."
And froze in the doorway.
The room was lit by candles, dozens of them, all sizes,
all red. A small table draped with a red tablecloth
had been set up near the foot of the bed: a bottle of
champagne in an ice bucket stood on a stool next to it.
There was the sound of music softly playing on the
sound system that took up a corner of the room.
And then there was the bed.
Made up with red satin sheets. Open as if waiting for
him to slide in.
To join the man stretched out on the other side of the
bed.
A man, head propped up on his elbow, smiling at him.
Enjoying his reaction. To the room. To the set up.
To the fact that he was dressed in a scarlet red
cropped top with matching thong. With a red bow around
his neck.
The tie slid out of Walter's hand and onto the floor,
hitting it at about the same time as his chin.
Alex gave a soft laugh and snaked his way across the
bed to slide off it and slowly, green eyes brimming
with devilment holding onto warm chocolate ones, he
came to stand in front of his stunned lover.
It was then that Walter noticed that the cropped shirt
had a red arrow printed in the centre of it, an arrow
pointing downwards to the sequined heart that was
strategically placed on the thong.
Alex fingered the bow around his neck. "I thought you
might like to open your Valentine's Day gift later on."
He placed his good hand around Walter's waist, the fake
one on his shoulder and pulled the man who looked as
though he still couldn't believe his eyes into his arms
for a deep, passionate exploration of his mouth.
When Alex pulled back, his breathing was barely under
control. Walter's eyes remained closed until he could
breath without gasping. Then he looked his lover over
and smiled. "Your heart seems to be growing." And he
placed his hand over the red heart. Alex's hips
pressed back and his smile grew positively lecherous.
"We'll get around to that. Eventually."
Walter's eyebrow raised in query. His smile spread
even more across his face. "And meanwhile, what do you
have in mind, dear heart?"
Alex looked surprised at the endearment, and then
pleased. His hands started removing the jacket of
Walter's bureaucratic uniform. "Many things. But
first, I want to dance with you."
"Dance!" Walter chuckled. "I didn't know you liked to
dance."
Alex tossed the jacket onto a chair by the dresser.
"Depends." His voice seemed huskier than before.
"On?" Walter took a compliant Alex into his arms.
They slowly rocked in time to the music.
Alex blew into Walter's ear, took the lobe into his
mouth and gave a gentle nip. "Who I'm with."
Walter nibbled on the line of the neck that rose from
the shoulder. "Is that important?"
Alex closed his eyes and gave a little shudder as
Walter's teeth nipped that particularly sensitive spot
under his ear. "Crucial," he finally whispered.
They swayed on their feet, entire bodies touching as
they pretended to dance to the music. Walter's hand
caressed the back of Alex's head as he held it close to
his, cheek on cheek, savouring the delightful smell of
freshly scrubbed Alex. Alex began softly humming along
to the music.
"What is that?" Walter's hand slipped down the long
back to cup one of the tight rounded globes that was
just begging for his touch.
Alex let his real hand copy Walter's, even if it had to
grip harder past the barrier of finely cut wool. He
sang, softly, in a very acceptable tenor:
Hier encore j'avais vingt ans
Walter laughed softly. Of course his ex-Consortium
Russian assassin lover would know French. He rested
his head against Alex's and enjoyed the feel of him in
his arms, the slight vibrations along his throat as he
sang along with the voice that Walter now recognized as
belonging to Charles Aznavour.
Sharon had been to see him once, in New York, but he'd
been called out on a case and she'd gone with a friend.
The two women had gushed about that night for weeks.
Back then their apartment had echoed with that mournful
voice until something happened and some other singer
had taken precedence.
"What do the words mean?"
Alex sighed. "He's singing about the foolishness of
love when you're young, and the importance of it when
you're older."
"Hmmm."
One of Walter's hands was rubbing circles on Alex's
buttock while the other was holding him close by the
nape. Alex's was slipping under the waist of Walter's
pants and fingertips were stroking whatever skin they
could touch.
Both were sporting erections that neither paid any
attention to.
Alex shuffled his feet, slowly yet surely directing
Walter into the bathroom.
The room was lit with the soft light of more candles
giving the entire place an other-worldly aspect.
Walter let Alex undress him, hindering more than
helping with his attempts to kiss whatever part of
Alex's body was closest. It took a while but finally
Walter was gloriously naked, his skin golden in the
reflected light of the candles.
At Alex's silent urging, he got into the tub, sat in
the water that must have been hot when the bath was
poured but was now just the right temperature to unwind
muscles tightened by a day's work.
Alex didn't join him, but, much to Walter's surprise,
began washing him. When Walter started protesting,
Alex shushed him. "Please. Be good, love. Let me do
this for you."
Of course, the kiss went a long way to convincing
Walter to lie back in water almost to his chin and just
enjoy it. It was then that he noticed the petals
floating on the surface of the water. He caught one on
the back of his hand, raised it to his nose and
sniffed. Rose petals.
Alex grinned at his momentary discomfort.
What the hell, thought Walter, it was that kind of
night. And blew the petal off his hand onto his lover's
hair. Alex's soft laughter filled the room.
Walter wasn't allowed that much time in the water. As
it cooled down, Alex played with his body, paying
special attention to his genitals. Even in the water,
Walter could feel himself getting harder.
Then Alex pulled away, held up one of the extra large
bath sheets that they used and Walter stood up, water
running off his body and stepped out of the bath into
the towel.
Again Alex wouldn't let him do anything. So he stood
there and watched as Alex dried him off. He did manage
to grab him as he finished for a kiss during which he
practically devoured the man.
He really thought bed was next, and it was, but not for
what he had in mind.
Alex placed a fresh towel on the bed and had Walter lie
face down on it. He placed a kiss on the top of
Walter's spine. "Wait," he whispered.
Walter realized that the scent of roses was strong
again and, closely examining the bed, was surprised to
find red rose petals were scattered over the red
sheets. With a smile that even he would have to
acknowledge as being incredibly sappy, he began
gathering the petals that were within reach of his
hand, piling them together.
Alex was back in mere moments with a small container
that stood in a mug of hot water. He dribbled some of
the warm liquid along the line of Walter's spine and,
once more, the smell of roses filled the air.
By now Walter was too much under the spell Alex had set
out to cast: he barely noticed as he played with the
petals, scooping them up, letting them fall from
between his fingers, that the oil being massaged into
his skin would make him smell like a garden.
Frankly, he didn't care. All he cared about was the
sudden discovery that his lover had a wide romantic
streak in him. He would remember that.
Alex went slowly. He had only one hand that he really
could use and the touching as important to him as was
the man being touched. He hummed along with the soft
romantic music, as turned on by his scenario as he knew
Walter was.
But there was no rush. Not tonight. Tonight was for
lovers and he celebrated the fact that he had found
someone who loved him as much as he loved that someone.
He placed a kiss on the small of his lover's back.
Walter made a barely audible sound of appreciation.
When he had Walter turn over, Walter's arousal was
splendidly displayed. Alex couldn't help himself. In
spite of all his careful plans, he bent and took the
rampant beast into his mouth and revelled in the taste
of it. Walter's hands rested on his head, fingers
playing with his hair, encouraging, but not directing.
Alex released Walter's erection and looked up: Walter
licked his lips in appreciation of the wicked glint in
those darkening emerald eyes.
"I had intended feeding you before we made love," his
voice was heavy with his arousal.
Walter pulled until Alex lay on him, his sex rubbing
against the silky heart of Alex's thong. "Come feed me
this way, first." He pulled the loose end of the bow
and tossed the ribbon to one side. His hands pushed
and tugged the thong off Alex, who casually kicked it
to the floor. As Walter's hands gripped his ass
tightly against him, their cocks slipped and slid
against each other and Alex moaned into Walter's mouth.
The cropped top joined the thong on the floor and
Walter moved Alex's body up his so that he could have
easy access to the small brown nipples, playing with
them with his mouth, his teeth, his tongue until he was
sure Alex would come if he kept on tormenting them.
One of Alex's legs settled between Walter's and the
rocking motion of Alex's body on his cock nearly sent
him over. What finally did was the way Alex was
pressing his groin over his stomach, using the friction
to find his way to his own orgasm. Their grunts,
moans, groans added dimension to the songs of love
coming from the corner.
They lay silent in each other's arms, coasting in the
glowing aftermath. Walter's arm rested on Alex's back,
attempting to hold him down when he moved. "I'll be
right back," promised Alex, and he was, with a cloth to
wash him off. Walter smiled at the feel of the warm
wetness on his skin.
Alex came back to lay next to him. Walter opened his
eyes and studied the face looking at him. "I love
you." He shook his head slightly. "I shouldn't."
"No," agreed Alex, "you shouldn't."
Walter stroked his lover's face: Alex leaned into the
caress. "I can't imagine life without you, Alex."
Alex's smile was shyly pleased. "Thank you. I used to
wonder what it would be like to have someone love me.
I never knew it would be like this. I love you so
much, Walter."
Their kiss was more romantic than passionate.
"Did you like the flowers?" Alex lay his head on
Walter's shoulder.
Walter gave a soft laugh. "Remind me to get my own
back on you for that one. I even heard from Scully
about them."
"I thought she was at Quantico these days."
"She is."
Alex laughed, "Oh. Dear."
"Like I said, watch your back."
"Well, surely the oysters compensated for that."
Walter gave Alex's hair a sharp tug. "That's two."
Alex propped his chin up on Walter's collarbone. "Hmm.
Sounds like I'm in deep shit."
"The deepest."
"Maybe I've got something that will get me out of it.
Wait here."
Walter watched Alex leave the room. He sighed.
Stretched his body, twisting it a bit, feeling
incredibly well relaxed. Also a bit hungry. He
propped up the pillows, sat up waiting for the next
part of the evening's entertainment. He waited about
ten minutes, playing with the rose petals, before he
heard Alex carefully making his way up the stairs.
He entered carrying a tray with both hands, his lower
lip caught under his top teeth as he concentrated on
keeping the fondue pots level. He set the tray on the
table with a sigh of relief. With a grin, he dragged
the table next to the bed and lit the two heat sources
under the pots. He seriously played with the openings
until he had a low flame under one pot, a higher one
under the other.
>From the top of the dresser he brought over a large
bowl with cubes of crusty bread and some long fondue
forks. When Walter reached for one, he got his hand
slapped away.
"Not tonight. Tonight you save your strength for
better things," Alex grinned.
So Walter accepted each wine and cheese soaked cube of
bread, insisting that Alex had to kiss him for every
piece of bread that slipped into the pot. When too
many ended up in the pot, Alex insisted on a kiss for
every one that made it into Walter's mouth.
"What's in the other pot?" Walter's curiosity finally
got the better of him.
"Dessert." Alex licked a strand of cheese off his
lips.
"Aren't you dessert?"
Alex grinned like a lascivious alley-cat. "Part of
it."
The bottle of champagne was finally opened. Alex
coated the flutes with kassis before adding the
champagne. They toasted each other, voices silent,
eyes shouting their intentions.
Dessert proved to be another fondue: chocolate this
time.
For dipping strawberries into.
With fingers that needed licking.
With fruit that dripped warm, sweet chocolate on skin
on its way to mouths.
That left mouths chocolate stained and strawberry
flavoured.
That led to licking. And tasting. And kisses.
And...
Later, as the candles began going out one by one, and
the two lovers were slipping into sleep, Walter
remembered. His getting out of bed roused Alex who
watched him rummage around in his jacket pockets until
"Ah!" and Walter came back to the bed, pulled Alex back
into his usual place against him and dropped the
jeweller's case on his own chest.
"What's this?" asked Alex sleepily.
"Did you think you were the only one who could
celebrate St. Valentine's Day? Open it, Alex."
Alex reached over and flipped the lid off the case.
He tilted the case towards him and grew very still.
Almost forgot to breathe there for a moment. His eyes
grew suspiciously bright in even the fading light of
the room.
In the case there were two silver identification
bracelets. Obviously designed for men's wrists.
On the flat surface of both was etched, in an intricate
design of Tudor influence, two entwined sets of
initials: WS and AK.
Walter held out his right wrist. With an awkward
clumsiness born more out of emotion than inability,
Alex closed the clasp of the longer bracelet.
Then he held out his right wrist.
Walter closed the clasp on his lover's wrist and placed
a kiss in the centre of the palm that lay trustingly on
his chest.
Alex closed his hand on that kiss and its promises.
kinner looked at the lump that was still in the middle
of their bed and gave a little sigh. Not that Alex had
to get up for work, but over the last few months, he
usually joined Skinner for breakfast before he left for
the Bureau.
He had a meeting to chair, another of those damn budget
things. On his way to the conference room, he caught
some of the glances that were sent his way. The wide
grins on the women, the raised eyebrows from some of
the men. Word had certain spread quickly.
Except for the soft light on in the kitchen, the house
was dark when he pulled into the driveway and parked
the car in the garage. Funny, he would have
thought... Oh, well.
Je caressais le temps
et jouais de la vie
comme on joue de l'amour
et je visais la nuit
sans compter sur mes jours
qui fuaient dans le temps
