REPARATIONS - PART 2 
By Amokeh
Date: June 1, 1999.
Rating: R for language (no, not NC17 yet - there definitely will be 
gratuitous
sex, but later)
Category: Skinner/Scully UST
Spoilers: Biogenesis, SR-819
Disclaimer: None of these character's are my creation, yada yada yada. I'm
not making any money off of this whatsoever - my only rewards are of an
emotional nature. 
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who emailed me! I seriously need your
reassurance and praise as I am a fanfic virgin, and can use all the positive
feedback I can get. For those readers outside of the US who haven't yet seen
Biogenesis, prepared to be pissed. We finally get Skinner in an episode, and
he's kowtowing to that ratbastard, Krycek! It's just not fair, dammit!
Special thanks to Red Valerian for her phenomenal web site. You are truly
THE goddess of Skinnerotica - thanks for allowing us mere mortals to lay our
meager offerings at your shrine.
Feedback: Cherished at amokeh@aol.com. 

Reparations - Part II
by Amokeh


The Ivory Coast

Special Agent Dana Scully stared at the sight before her, looming larger than 
life beneath the clear, shallow water. This simply can't be what I'm seeing, she 
tried to convince herself. A spaceship. A spaceship....? Holy Mary, mother of
God....

Dana closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them and stared again. 
Yep. Still there. A spaceship. 

All those years of her rationalizations, of haranguing Mulder for his 'insane'
beliefs, playing The Great Skeptic....and here it was in front of her. She 
could see it, touch it. It was real. Yes, she had seen many strange things over 
the years with Mulder, people and events she couldn't explain away with science,
but somehow, she had held on to that skepticism, that basic belief that
extraterrestrial life was just science fiction dreamed up by incredibly 
imaginative authors or trailer park residents imbibing in one too many Bud Lights (TM). 
But she couldn't deny this.

The ship was metallic, silvery in color and about 20 meters across. She was
standing at it's edge which was etched with the same kind of writing shown on
the rubbing that had set off Mulder's psychosis. The entire ship was submerged
beneath tons of water and sand, with only the top surface barely visible. There
was no hatch that she could discern, nor any other kind of opening that might
lead to some answers to Mulder's condition.

Her confused mind quickly switched gears. She shouldn't have left him like 
that. Alone. Afraid. In the presence of liars and traitors. Dana fumed silently,
wrapping her arms tightly around herself and glaring at the hateful ship. How? 
How could he do this to them? To her? He's supposed to be our friend....

She didn't know what made her more upset, the thought that in his time of need
Mulder called on that treacherous bitch, Diana Fowley, or that Skinner had
betrayed her and was once more doing the Consortium's dirty work. Actually,
she did know which made her more upset, she just didn't want to think about 
why it made her more upset. How could he go through my personal files? How could
he let them do this to Mulder? How could he leave me alone like this...

She felt more alone than ever before in her life. In the past whenever Mulder
had ditched her, whenever they were in trouble, she knew she could always go
to Skinner for assistance. Oh, he might argue and protest why he couldn't 
help, but somehow he always came through. She had never realized just how much
she had come to depend on him. 

The rumbling of the waves crashing close by reminded her she didn't have much
time before the tide came in, before she'd have to return to the city. But as she
stood there feeling the wet sand squish between her toes and the salt air
abrasive against her skin, she couldn't escape the image of Walter Skinner
staring after her at the hospital, the guilt and pain evident in his usually stony
countenance. If his remorse was genuine, then why had he turned against them,
against her? 

Okay. That was the thing really bothering her - she felt personally betrayed by
him. Skinner hadn't betrayed the X-Files or Mulder's quest, he had betrayed 
her. She closed her eyes again, shutting out the ship that refused to give up it's
secrets easily. Her arms wrapping more tightly around her slender shoulders,
she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to instill some warmth in
them. Suddenly, her mind was flooded with an image of Walter Skinner's arms
wrapping around her, pulling her tightly against his broad chest. His big,
muscular arms would feel so good, so safe...she shook herself and her eyes
opened wide. Where the hell had that come from? Walter Skinner was her
boss, and, at the moment, her enemy. How in god's name could she possibly be
thinking about him in a romantic fashion? She shook herself mentally again for
good measure, but the image persisted. It not only persisted but continued in
greater detail: the smell of him - slightly musky mixed with the spicy scent 
of his aftershave; the way his big hands would cover most of her back, warming her to
her very core; the gentle pressure of his chin resting against the top of her
head....Jesus! She forced the image from her mind, deliberately settling her
arms back against her sides. When had she started thinking of Skinner in this
manner?

Dana shook her head and snorted in disgust, her coppery brows arching in pique
at her weakness. Pining away for a man who obviously didn't feel anything for
her was not helping the situation. She had to discover a way to unlock the
mysteries of the ship half buried beneath the sea so she could in turn help
Mulder. The trouble was, she didn't know where to even begin.

She sighed and ran her left hand up her neck into her hair, made a glowing
crimson by the setting sun. Gently massaging away the headache that had been
building for the last twelve hours, she once again glared at the ship. Her
headache got worse. How the hell was she going to figure this out by herself? 
None of the natives would help her - they had made that perfectly clear by
refusing to even show her the location of the ship. Only one of them had 
taken pity on her, and he had practically run back the way they had came once 
he had "done his duty." Dana had never felt more alone in her life with no one to 
turn to, no way to determine how to proceed and no idea of how to help Mulder and
fight the many forces against them.

All on its own, her mind again brought forth an image of Walter Skinner - strong, 
sturdy, reliable. Scully forcibly pushed the image away, disgusted again at her
weakness. She would figure this out, dammit. She had to. For Mulder's 
sake.

Dana gave the ship one final, probing glare, then admitted defeat - for the
moment. She couldn't do anything more tonight. She would return to Abidjan
and get some rest -- maybe she would find more answers at the University
tomorrow.

With barely a glance in the direction of the ship behind her, Dana walked back
across the beach to her parked vehicle. Tomorrow. I'll find some answers 
then, she silently vowed.

University of Abidjan, 14 hours later

Dana Scully paced the small office of the late Doctor Merkmallen. It had 
taken her almost three hours to cajole the University authorities into allowing her
access to Merkmallen's files and records, and she had spent another three 
hours in a futile search for anything pertaining to the alien artifacts. She had 
found nothing. Nothing! Scully sat down heavily in the professor's chair, bracing
herself against the edge of the hardwood desk. Closing her eyes, she took a
deep breath, feeling the tears begin to gather behind her eyelids. Trying to
regain control, she reviewed, step-by-step, everything she had done so far to
determine if she had missed something.

One. She had accessed the professor's computers, and, using some tricks
shown to her by the Lone Gunmen, had successfully hacked into all of his
protected files. Nothing. 

Two. She had searched his desk, shelves, books and boxes for any additional
computer disks, rubbings, notes, vague references or doodles of anything that
could possible pertain to the artifacts or the alien ship. Again nothing.

Three. She had emptied the desk, shelves and boxes in the slim chance that
any disk, rubbing or notes had been taped or in other ways hidden in the
aforementioned desk, shelves and boxes. She had even crawled under the desk
in the even slimmer chance that something might be taped to the underside of
the sturdy piece of furniture, an action which was, she had to admit, 
pathetic and desperate. 

And, much to her surprise, found.....nothing.

Nada. Zilch. Not one fucking clue to tell her what the fuck was happening 
with Mulder, what those goddammed sons-of-bitches had done to him or how in the
fucking hell she could save his sanity and his life.

Inside her mind, Dana could hear Sister Mary Margaret's disapproving voice: 
"Good girls don't use such language, Dana Katherine. Foul language is the
devil's work and will do nothing but earn you a place in the eternal fires of
damnation." Yeah, well bite me, sister! Dana yelled back to the nagging 
voice of her Catholic upbringing. God obviously doesn't give a rat's ass about me 
or Mulder, so why should I give a fuck what you think? 

Scully's hands flew to her face, her fingers pressing against her eyes, trying to will 
the tears back. "Fuck," she muttered brokenly, with little strength behind the invective. 
"What am I going to do....?" 

She hadn't slept in more than three days. She had traveled across the U.S. and
back and then across the Atlantic Ocean, had driven two hours on what could
hardly be considered a road to find a mostly-submerged alien space ship, had
driven another two hours back to her hotel(?) where mattresses were reserved
for visiting diplomats and had spent the last six hours at this fucking 
university for nothing! Nothing! A wave of hopelessness crashed over her, conquering 
her futile attempts to hold back the flow of tears. She couldn't do this - she 
couldn't save Mulder, she couldn't fight them, she couldn't....

She couldn't do this alone.

"Damn you to hell, Skinner," Dana hoarsely cursed the man whose betrayal had
haunted her from across the globe. Damn you, she thought as her control finally
gave in to the flood of tears. Exhausted, frustrated and just plain scared, she
couldn't fight back as the force of her emotions wracked her small frame. Her
body gently rocked back and forth, her face buried in her hands. 

"Agent Scully?"

Through her haze of despair, Dana dimly recognized the voice as familiar, but
wasn't totally certain it wasn't just her imagination.

"Dana...?" 

A warm hand tentatively touched her shoulder. A big hand. Strong but gentle,
judging from the almost tender way it squeezed her taut muscle. The hand
rubbed up and down her upper arm, and her emotionally exhausted brain finally
registered it as real. She raised her head, wiping her face at the same time. 
She looked up. And up. Her vision cleared and the large man came suddenly
into focus.

Skinner. 

Walter Skinner, the man himself, stood before her looking concerned (damn
him!), supportive (cock-sucking bastard!) and sincere (the lying fuck!) all at the
same time. All of her exhaustion immediately dissipated and transformed to
righteous fury. How dare he! How fucking dare he stand there looking at her
like that after the way he had betrayed her! 

Her loss of control must have included her facial muscles; Skinner caught the
look she gave him and quickly pulled his hand from her arm, taking a step back. 
He took a deep breath and clenched his chiseled jaw in anticipation of the
oncoming storm. Dana slammed her hands down flat on the surface of the desk
and was treated to a gratifying wince from the 6'2" former Marine. She raised
herself menacingly to her full 5'3" and hissed between her teeth, "What the fuck
are you doing here?"

*******************
The flight to Lisbon had been uneventful and the connection to Abidjan on time. 
Skinner had been grateful for the good luck, no matter how small. His hopes for
smooth sailing, however, were short lived.

Mulder, although unconscious for the entire first leg of the journey and relatively
in control for the takeoff of the second, had become more and more distressed
the closer they came to the Ivory Coast. By the time the plane set down at the
Abidjan airport, it took the full strength of Skinner and two flight attendants to
hold Mulder down in his seat as he screamed for Scully, begging his frantic boss
to stop the pain. An ambulance had met them on the runway and carried the
suffering agent to the University hospital. Checking Mulder into the facility took
another two hours, by which time he had slipped into catatonia - almost to the
point of being considered comatose. Skinner had reluctantly left him with the
puzzled doctors and nurses to search for Scully.

Fortunately, it hadn't taken him long. University gossip being what it was, he
discovered quickly that he and Mulder weren't the only federal agents on the
campus. Skinner rushed to the small building which housed the Biology
department, determined to put things right with her, to repair her damaged 
trust in him. 

When he walked in the ransacked office to find her disheveled and weeping, his
normally stony facade melted; she looked so small and fragile behind that huge,
wooden desk. Skinner's heart was rended with the knowledge that he was partly
responsible for her pain. He walked quietly to her side, knowing she would hate
displaying any weakness to him, but needing desperately to show her that he
was there for her, that he was still her friend and could be trusted. He removed
his ever-present wire rims and rubbed his face, feeling all the tiredness and
anxiety of the last forty hours suddenly well up in his throat as he watched the
beautiful agent cry. He laid his glasses quietly on the desk before reaching out
to her. He wanted nothing to hide his feelings this time. Like Mulder, Skinner
could only earn back Scully's trust with the unvarnished truth. He touched her
with all the tenderness and love he felt for her: just a gentle, but reassuring
squeeze on her trembling shoulder. It had taken her a moment to respond, but
when she looked up at him, what little confidence he had felt in his ability to win
her over drained immediately away. Walter had expected Scully to be
suspicious and even combative, but he had never anticipated her fury and
unconcealed hatred.

********************

"I said, what the fuck are you doing here?!" Dana Scully's voice rose both in
pitch and volume as her rage was fueled even further by her raw feelings of
betrayal. She spun away from him, stomping in the opposite direction then
changed her mind in mid-stride and spun back around, charging him like a
freight train at full speed. When Skinner didn't move out of her way, Scully
poured the full force of her pain and frustration into the blows of her fists 
against his massive chest.

Skinner didn't deflect her attack despite the fact he was already in some pain
from the nanocytes' tireless activity; he was ready to accept whatever she 
dealt. He could see her exhaustion in the circles beneath her eyes, the sunken 
pallidity of her skin. The fact that she had been crying only heightened his feelings 
of responsibility for their present situation and his sense of protectiveness 
towards her. Walter simply stood there, allowing her to pound away her fury and 
despair.

Although she had at first hit him several times in succession, Scully's blows
slowed to accent her shouted accusations. "You LIED to us!! You KNEW that
they were behind this thing all the TIME!!" Dana's eyes bored into his, while he
tried to convey his sorrow and his love through his unhindered gaze. Her
previously blazing glare wavered and her voice began to break. Her fists opened
to clutch his dark suitcoat and she clung to his lapels as her fury finally wore
itself out. "I trusted you..." she whispered hoarsely as her forehead lowered to
rest against his muscular chest. "I thought you were my friend..." Dana began
once more to sob, spasmodically gripping the dark fabric of his suit and pulling
herself tighter into his warmth.

After a moment of uncertainty, Walter finally responded to the trembling woman. 
His arms slid up around her shoulders to hold her firmly but gently against him
as her petite body was wracked with emotions she could no longer keep at bay. 
He closed his eyes and rested his chin on top of her head. Without thinking he
brushed his lips against the silky softness of her hair, breathing in her distinct
scent of cinnamon and an undefinable something that he would forever be able
to identify as Scully. He could feel his own tears start to gather behind his
eyelids as he was able to catch a few muffled words from the weeping agent, 
her voice ragged and barely audible.

"I...found it...and...I couldn't figure out what to do...." Skinner held her even
tighter in response to her despair, rubbing his cheek against the top of her 
head. He strained to hear her broken monologue as it continued against the firm
expanse of his chest. "I had to fight them...to let me in here...and then I found
nothing..." Her voice dissolved again to sobs as she shook harder in his arms. 
Walter couldn't hold back his own tears as he rocked Dana back and forth,
kissing her hair and rubbing his hands up and down her quaking back. 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Dana's sobs subsided and she leaned
quietly against him, her arms wrapped around his waist, allowing his strength 
to support her. She didn't pull away so Walter loosened his hold on her, 
continuing his reassuring caress. 

Long, silent minutes passed while they stood there holding each other and then
Dana spoke again, her voice even hoarser and more forlorn than before. 
Without raising her head from where it was buried against his damp shirt, she
whispered, "The worst part of all of it was that I felt so alone...." 

Walter's breath caught at her words, the full weight of his guilt at betraying her
pressing against his heart, just as she was at that moment. Dana slowly 
looked up at his face, her eyes red and swollen from crying but no longer enraged. 
Just tired and needing...something. From him.

Walter raised his hands to cup her tear-streaked face. He sighed, knowing he
had to tell her everything now but dreading it. It had been too long since he had
opened himself up to anyone, but he couldn't be any less honest with her than
she had been with him.

"Dana," he began hesitantly, "I did lie to you and Mulder, but at the time I had no
choice." His fingers wiped away the moisture from her cheeks as he tried to
explain to her the reasons behind his betrayal. "I can't tell you all the details
because I'm afraid it will endanger you as well," his voice became almost
pleading as he rushed on, "but please believe me when I say I never thought 
you or Mulder would be harmed. I didn't know what was happening to Mulder, I
swear." Walter's hands strayed to Dana's hair, stroking her scalp and neck
softly, lingeringly. "If I had thought for a second that either one of you were in
danger, I would have let them...carry out their threats towards me." Whoa. 
That had been close. Skinner couldn't tell her about the nanocytes' recent 
activity. She was definitely smart enough to put two and two together and figure out the
rat bastard's involvement with his mysterious illness. He drew a deep breath
and let it out, slowly, lowering his hands to her shoulders. Walter's deep brown
eyes didn't waver from her azure ones as he spoke next: "I would never, never
do anything to put you in danger. Your friendship means everything to me. 
YOU mean everything to me. That's why I'm here now." Walter breathed deep
again and held it, waiting for her response.

Scully blinked once. Twice. Then let out a long sigh herself, part exhaustion,
part relief, part frustration. Relief that he was here, frustration that she had
turned to jello at the hard reality of his body beneath her hands. She couldn't
believe she had broken down in front of her boss. Skinner! AD Hard Ass! She
disregarded the useless recrimination; no use worrying about it now - it was
already done. But what did he mean he couldn't tell her any details, that it 
would "endanger" her? What, did he think she wasn't in any danger NOW? That
Mulder wasn't in any danger? Oh god, Mulder. He had left him behind, too. 
Ok, one problem at a time - I'll deal with that in a second, she told herself.

They had threatened him? Well, of course they had threatened him! It wasn't
like Skinner to go down without a fight. Whatever they had on him must be
pretty serious. Ok, she could deal with his initial betrayal; he was here now and
that's what mattered. In her heart she knew he wouldn't purposely put her or
Mulder in danger. Skinner had spent too much time, invested too much of his
own well-being into keeping them out of danger, so she believed him there. She
didn't want to consider his next-to-last statement, not even briefly. It felt too raw,
too close to what she was clutching against her own lonely heart.

Did she believe him enough to trust him fully again? When Dana looked up into
his earnest, unshielded eyes she made her decision.

As Skinner watched her anxiously for response, he was treated to a rare, full
Dana Scully smile. One that made his toes curl and his heart expand against 
the brick walls he had spent so many years erecting around it. Skinner's lips 
curled, first on one side, and then the other. As his grin widened, Scully's didn't
diminish but rather settled as she relaxed more completely in his arms, her 
hold around him a little less desperate. 

His eyes narrowing a little, Walter looked at her quizzically and said, "So....are
we...okay?" The smile was a good thing after all, but he didn't want to make any
assumptions with the fiery redhead.

Dana's smile softened as she heard the tentative question. She looked him full
in the eyes and said, "Yes. I believe what you said, about not knowing we would
be hurt." She smiled a little wider as the breath Walter had been holding
exploded from him in a rush and his expression shone not only with relief but
gratitude. "I believe you're here for me now," she continued, "and if you don't
feel you can tell me yet about what they threatened you with, I'll understand,
but," Dana fixed him with a serious stare, "you WILL tell me about it when this is
over. Is that understood?" It wasn't a question.

Walter grinned crookedly in a cross between "Aw shucks" and "That's my Dana!" 
His expression turned serious again, reflecting her own and he vowed softly, 
"Dana, that's a promise." Dana smiled at him again, and he was so happy at 
having repaired their friendship that he cupped her face in his big hands and 
tilted his head down towards hers, gently brushing her lips with his own. 

Dana didn't back away or otherwise try to escape the kiss; after all that had
transpired between them in the last few minutes, a kiss seemed as natural and
right as breathing. In fact, it felt more than right. It felt good. Ignoring the fact
that they were in a hostile environment, that everyone was against them and
they were fighting the clock to save her partner, Dana closed her eyes and
kissed Walter back, marveling at the feel of his soft lips against her own, 
the feel of his warm breath against her cheek and the scent of his slightly overheated
body, ripely male and wonderful. She could lose herself in this incredible
sensation, and she fought the urge to arch into him, to feel his body hard 
against her soft one, this time in passion, not compassion. She wanted to lose 
herself in him, to have those muscular yet tender arms hold her above his body as she
drew him inside her, drawing in his strength. She tried to push the mental image
aside; she couldn't give in to these feelings...yet. She somehow managed to
stop herself just as her tongue began to grow restless behind her closed lips,
aching to explore the moist recesses of Walter's warm, sweet mouth. With more
regret than she cared to admit, she pulled away gently from the kiss, waves of
sensation from the brief touch washing down her fatigued body and settling in a
warm throbbing between her legs.

When the kiss ended, Walter found it slightly difficult to breathe. He had just
meant to lightly kiss Dana out of friendship -- ok, he had to admit that what he
felt for her was far more than friendship, but his intention was to affirm
everything that had been said and felt between them. He hadn't expected her 
to respond passionately. Well, it wasn't exactly passionate, but it wasn't 
exactly platonic, either. Anyway, his fantasies had dwelled on the feel and taste of 
her for so long he wasn't about to split hairs now. She had kissed him back, her 
lips moving softly, silkily beneath his own, still closed but somehow promising 
more. Walter pulled back from Dana slightly, looking dreamily into her beautiful
countenance. His breathing fluttered again as he registered the sensual,
unguarded softness around Dana's lips and eyes, the way her breathing had
picked up in pace a bit and even came out a bit shaky. Come to think of it, he
was feeling pretty shaky himself. Down boy, he chastised himself, trying to
ignore the rush of blood to his groin, you don't have time for this now. Walter
pushed aside the desire that threatened to overwhelm him and gave her his best
"you're my buddy" smile. 

Dana saw the shift in Walter's demeanor and although she understood and
agreed with the need for it, she wanted very much to explore what they had
begun. Down girl, she told herself and returned Walter's friendly smile.

Walter lowered his hands from her face and ran them down her arms. Scully
almost shuddered as the electricity of his touch shot across her sensitized 
body. When his hands reached her own, she clutched them not only out of friendship
but for actual physical support. 

They shared one last tender smile before Walter let go of her right hand to grab
his glasses laying discarded on the huge desk. He put them back on and
regarded his companion with some sadness for the trial she still had to face. 
He squeezed her left hand once for reassurance and then said, "Let's go see
Mulder." He started to pull Scully around the desk towards the door, but she
resisted against him.

"No! I can't leave Abidjan! The answers are here!" Scully waved her right hand
angrily, desperately around the ransacked office. "If we go back to DC we 
have no chance of helping Mulder!" Dana's eyes pleaded with Walter's, willing him 
to understand.

"Dana, you don't understand," Walter stepped back towards her, squeezing her
tiny hand in his once more. "Mulder is here. I brought him with me. We're not
going to DC," Walter finished sadly as Dana's eyes opened wide, digesting his
news. Walter looked down briefly at the floor, dreading the pain he knew she
would experience at her partner's state of health. 

Scully took a step closer, trying to catch Skinner's downturned gaze. "What 
is it?" she queried, her voice soft and hesitant, anticipating the worst.

Walter raised his eyes to hers, his face sober. "He's not in good shape, 
Dana. He's catatonic." 

Dana sucked in her breath as if he had punched her in the stomach, her eyes
again filling with moisture. "Catatonic...?" Her eyes probed Skinner's, looking
for reassurance, but his somber mien provided none. She swallowed hard, but
asked with a shaking voice, "He's not in a coma...?" It was a question she 
really didn't want an answer to, but she needed the truth.

"In a coma, no," Skinner replied, his voice as soft as hers, "but close enough for
the doctors to be extremely worried." He shook his head in disgust and
frustration, "They don't know what the hell is wrong with him or how to treat 
him. All they can do is watch him and keep him on an IV." 

Skinner's voice betrayed his disgust with the situation, sounding more like 
the surly AD Scully knew and loved. Loved? Dana's brows shot up at that 
startling thought; don't even go there, she warned herself. 

Walter's own brows knitted in confusion at her strange reaction to his words, 
and Dana rushed to cover her mental meandering. "An IV? Is it just for fluids or 
are they attempting medication?" There. That sounded good. 

Skinner wrote off her puzzling reaction as nerves and fatigue and answered,
"They don't even know where to start, as far as medication is concerned." He
ran his right hand over his scalp, stopping to briefly rub the knotted muscles at
the base of his neck as he continued to express his frustration. "I just don't get
it. I mean," he looked at Dana, his weariness and worry evident in his face and
stance, "he held up really well all the way here, but the nearer we got to the Ivory
Coast..." 

"The nearer you got to the ship...yes, that makes sense." Dana had spoken her
thoughts, once more the clinician, the investigator, trying to put all the pieces
together.

Skinner looked at her, confused. "The ship? What ship?"

Dana glanced up at him, her brows arching in surprise. She thought she had
mentioned it earlier while she had been sobbing all over the front of his suitcoat. 

"I'll show you. After we see Mulder." This time it was Dana who pulled Walter
around the desk towards the door. She had wallowed in self pity long enough -
she wasn't alone in this anymore. She didn't have to feel guilty about leaving
Mulder behind. She pushed all self-centered thoughts out of her mind and
focused on her partner and best friend. They would have to move quickly.

Walter's mind reeled with the implications of a...spaceship. It was just too 
much to deal with, all at once. Priorities, Walt, he rebuked himself. First 
Mulder, then this ship, then Krycek, then....Dana. 

One step at a time, old boy.

Without another word, Skinner followed the determined agent out of the office
and down the corridor. 

END OF PART 2