BRUTAL FORCES: PART 4 
By Josan

*******************************************************
Scully was in Headquarters to attend a meeting of Section heads. Not that officially she was one, but in her capacity as assistant to the Head of Forensics, she was representing him.

They'd taken a break for coffee. She was in the hallway, listening to the on-going conversations when the hall gradually became silent. 

"Oh, my!" said the woman nearest her, one of the new intake of agents, "I'm just getting used to the Armani, and here comes Herrara For Men."

Scully turned into the direction of the on-coming silence. Two men were striding down the hall: one, stone-faced as usual; the other, devilment personified. 

Both were dressed all in black. It was the first time Scully had ever seen Skinner in Headquarters not wearing a suit and tie.

Skinner wore slacks and one of those crew-necked silk knit tops that clung to the musculature of his chest. An open loose linen jacket. The only colour was the
narrow silver buckle of his black leather belt, which drew a great many eyes to the narrowness of his waist and hips.

Krycek wore his usual jeans, except these hadn't come from any bargain basement. The fit was just this side of decent. The loose t-shirt tucked into the jeans, the leather jacket all added to the bad-boy image.

As the men walked past her, Skinner nodded. "Agent Scully."

"Assistant Director Skinner," she acknowledged. 

Krycek just grinned at her, one of those angelic grins that forecasts trouble of some kind. 

She watched the two men get into the elevator that would take them to Skinner's old office. Heard the cell phones being dialled as the news made its way around the building.

The woman next to her gasped, "That's AD Skinner? And who was the other stud?"

Scully debated using her cell phone to call Mulder, decided against it. "What?"

"Who was with AD Skinner? The guy in the jeans." 

"Oh, that's Alex Krycek. Excuse me, I just remembered a message I forgot to deliver." And went for the next available elevator going up. 

Mulder came out of his office muttering to himself over the papers in his hand. "Kim, I can't seem... " He looked up and saw Alex Krycek leaning against the outer office doorway, looking like sin. "Alex."

Krycek cocked his head, just smiled.

"It's been a while," Mulder was wondering how the hell he was going to get Krycek out of the office before anyone knew he was here.

"He's with me." The voice was icy, possessive.

Mulder turned to see Walter Skinner, a Walter Skinner he wasn't sure he recognized, sitting at Kim's desk, signing wherever it was Kim was indicating.

"Sir." 

Skinner raised a sardonic eyebrow at the neutral tone of address. Watched as Mulder straightened, his usual reaction to that look.

"Assistant Director Skinner is here to sign his retirement forms," explained Kim, obviously unhappy with the whole situation.

"Oh." Mulder shuffled his feet, unsure of what his reaction should be. He knew how the Upper Levels felt about Skinner. Didn't know how Skinner himself felt. They'd been out of touch too long for him to know whether commiseration or felicitations were called for.

Krycek seemed to be expecting something from him, so he cleared his throat, uncomfortable, wanted to say something, anything. "You're looking well, sir." 
Fucking sexy, he thought, now having had a good look at the man. Skinner had stood, was recapping his pen before slipping it into the jacket's inside pocket.

"Thanks, Kim. For handling all this paperwork. I appreciate it. And for everything else." He took her hand, began to shake it. Leaned over and kissed her instead.

Krycek straightened quickly, made a growling sound. Mulder's attention swung from Skinner to Krycek. Correctly interpreted the growl. Looked back to Skinner, his surprise written on his face.

Skinner stopped in front of Mulder, quirked an eyebrow at Mulder's reaction. "My desk for Krycek." He spoke softly, so only Mulder would hear. "I got the better of the trade."

At the door, he turned once more to Kim. "Thanks again." Krycek followed him out.

In the hallway to the elevator, there were suddenly groups of very involved conversations going on. Whereas the hall had been almost empty on their way in, now, it was as though offices had all spontaneously emptied. Skinner even recognized some of the people from the top floor.

He stopped half-way down the hall. Alex nearly bumped into him. "What's wrong?" He wanted Walter out of this place as soon as possible. He was used to these kinds of over-the-shoulder, barely-contained sneers; Walter wasn't. These people had been his colleagues before they had turned on him, abandoned him. 
Walter ignored the looks, found Alex's eyes on him, worried.

"I've just realized how much I hate this place." Astonished.

Alex grinned. "About bloody time."

Walter grinned back, a wide, evil grin. He reached out and grabbed Alex by the back of the head. Pulled him in for the type of kiss he usually kept for initiating
sex.

Alex stepped closer, mouth devouring and devoured. Knew he was adding fuel to the fire, that they had a disapproving - on the whole - audience. Controlled himself, with difficulty, from rubbing his hips against Walter.

Had some trouble with his breath when they finally pulled apart. Walter's grin had become laughter, delighted, happy, raunchy. He grabbed Alex's wrist and pulled him along to the elevator where someone had a finger on the "open" button.

He slapped the finger down as they got in and the door closed behind a jubilant Alex.

Standing by Mulder's door, Scully turned and looked at her former partner. She couldn't resist. "Tell me, Mulder, did either of them ever kiss you like that?"

Mulder grunted, went back into his office.

Kim and Scully exchanged raised eyebrows, knowing grins. 

"He never looked that hot when he was working here." Kim said. "Otherwise I would have made a play for him after his divorce." She sighed over lost opportunities. "And I think I'm not the only female," she looked around at the people still milling about, "or male, who's thinking that way."
*******************************************************

That evening, after buzzing Scully up, Walter was waiting at the door to let her in.

She shook her head ruefully at the now dressed down, now retired AD.

"Well, sir... "

"Walter. I don't carry the ID any more, Dana." He offered to take her coat. 

"You may not want me to stay once you know why I'm here."

Alex slouched against the door to the kitchen. 

Scully handed Walter a thick envelope. "Your retirement papers, sir. All signed and approved."

Walter took them from her. Weighed the packet in his hand. "That was quick." He explained to Alex, "Usually takes weeks, three or four, to process retirement papers."

Alex swore under his breath, straightened up and came over to stand by Walter. 

"Scully, there's a pot on the stove. Could you go and stir it, please. It shouldn't be boiling."

Scully slipped off her coat and went into the kitchen. There was a wooden spoon by the stove and she picked it up and stirred what had to be borscht. She tasted it,
closed her eyes in appreciation.

Alex caught her. "Care to stay for supper, or are we too dangerous to your career to associate with?"

Scully ignored his snide remark, knowing that Alex was upset because Walter had been once more badly treated by the Bureau.

"This needs more pepper," she said. "Apart from that, it is the very best borscht I've ever tasted."

Alex dropped into the chair by the table. Scully went back to stirring. After a minute Alex said, more calmly, "It does not need more pepper at this stage. Later, just before serving."

"Is he all right?" She was very interested in the pattern the spoon made in the thick liquid.

Alex rubbed his face. "Yeah. I think he was expecting it, but it's still a bit of a shock. He's not used to being discarded so easily."

"Well, if it's any consolation, it's going to be a long time before the... manner of his leaving stops being a subject of discussion." That got a bit of a smile from Alex. "It is the general consensus, at least among the female members of the Bureau, that the kiss rated beyond a ten. That, if there is a God, you are both bisexual. And that your jeans... Oh, and Skinner's sweater... should be bronzed."

"Certainly the jeans," Walter came and sat next to Alex. Shared a smile with him. 

"She thinks it needs pepper." Alex reached his hand out to rub Walter's shoulder.

"Make her wash the dishes after supper. That'll teach her to criticize the chef."

"You just want to get out of doing them."

Scully listened to the exchange, marvelling at the comfort and facility between the two men. Two men she would never have associated with comfort and facility. And certainly never with each other.

The evening provided a few more surprises, the matching bands being the first. Then there was the fact that they never seemed to be more than an arm's length away from each other. She wasn't surprised to see Alex touching Walter as much as he did: he had always struck her as being a tactile person. 

But Walter Skinner? Unapproachable old Stone Face, the man who went by the book, the AD voted most likely to have a steel rod up his ass? Whose hand reached out, casually, to rub a shoulder, touch a leg, tug at hair. Who smiled readily. Who laughed, easily. 

Scully sat in an armchair, her feet up on the coffee table, brandied coffee in her hand, stomach filled with borscht and sour cream and black bread, watched Alex Krycek pull himself into a cross-legged position at the feet of Walter Skinner who sat, back against the arm rest, at the other end of the couch. In no time at all, Walter slouched, made himself comfortable with his feet on Alex's lap. The conversation never went near the events of the day of the day, instead ranging over a variety of casual topics like politics, books, movies. Lightly, ironically, with wit and humour. She was surprised when she realized it was nearly midnight.

"By the way, if you're not doing anything for Easter, my mother said to tell you you're both welcomed to join us."

And got yet another surprise when Walter thanked her, "But we're spending Easter with Alex's folks."

Scully raised an eyebrow. "Alex has folks? Somehow, I always thought you had been hatched, Alex." 

Alex looked uncomfortable. "They're not... They're... "

Walter's hand rubbed the back of Alex's neck. "Alex is still having a bit of trouble with the concept of biology versus fostering. They're Alex's foster parents. But please thank your mother for the invitation."

He accompanied her down to her car, held the door open for her.

Because of the lines of friendship that had been drawn over the evening, she chanced "When he went down last November, just how bad were you?"

He rested a hip against the side of the car, folded his arms and looked at her for a moment before answering. "If he'd arrived an hour later, he would have found my
brains splattered throughout the place."

Then regretted telling her when he saw the hurt and guilt on her face. "Scully... Dana, of all the people who could have come to the cabin that day, he was the only one who could actually have understood where I was then. The only one. And you helped in other ways. Without your pushing, OPC would have probably found a
reason for shelving their investigation."

"Mulder pushed too."

"Yes. But you pushed him too."

She examined the face and body of the man before her. "You're slouching. I didn't think ex-Marines ever slouched."

Walter laughed. "Alex slouches everywhere. I seem to be picking it up from him." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Drive carefully."
*******************************************************

They were working their way through the morning papers when the phone rang. Walter seemed a bit surprised at the identity of the caller, listened, finally covered
the phone with his hand.

"It's Senator McCuen. He would like us to join him for dinner tonight at his place. Around eight."

Alex frowned. "Which one is he?"

"Finance Committee. Republican. One of the central southern states... I can't remember which one. Looks a bit like Sam Erwing."

"He say why we're being so graced?"

"Says he wants to discuss a proposal with both of us."

Alex shrugged. "Your decision."

Walter picked up the phone again. "Yes, thank you. We'll see you at eight."

Dinner was roast beef and all the fixings. Alex was well behaved, though Walter knew he wanted to challenge the Senator as to why they were here. The Senator and his wife were charming throughout the meal.

"Well, gentlemen, I'll leave you to your brandy." Mrs. McCuen smiled at the men as she rose from the table. "Besides, Haines wishes to discuss business with you and there's a movie on the television that I want to see."

The Senator suggested brandy in the library. When he had served them each, he sat in what was obviously his chair, made himself comfortable, took a sip of brandy.

"Actually, this is a proposal in two parts. I'll begin with Mr. Skinner if I may.

"As you know I am a member of the Committee investigating financial responsibility in some of our more secretive organizations. Of which the FBI is next on our schedule."

He kept his eyes on Skinner as he carefully approached his offer. "You have not been well treated by the FBI, Mr. Skinner. When they should have supported you in the face of an obvious set-up, they floundered. Their defense of you was more of an attack. And their subsequent treatment of you was more than shoddy."

He held up a hand, forestalling Walter's reply. "I understand your training, your integrity will preclude your desire for revenge. I ask you only to consider the following notion: if they did it to you, whose loyalty to the organization was never in doubt, what will stop them from doing it to someone else?

"The actual grounds for their investigation of your career were non-existent. What they were on was a witch-hunt. Your personal life is just that, Mr. Skinner. Personal. We live in a time of 'Don't ask. Don't tell.' Still rather repressive, but the beginning of an acknowledgement that people are different.

"Before I continue, I will tell you that I have a personal interest in all this. My grandson is gay. He was recently badly beaten up by several members of his campus OTP because he dared to try and sign up. All the male members of this family have served their country. My grandson wished to do so as well. His sexual preferences should not have been at issue. But not everyone sees it that way.

"I am not asking you to betray confidential Bureau information. Though I believe my security clearance is as high as yours. I do however believe that in a general way you could be of help in determining what is bullshit and what is not.

"If that involvement is still too close for your personal sense of honour, I think that your mere presence next to me on the panel, as an informed consultant, which will be perfectly legal as, by the start of the hearings, you will be officially retired from the Bureau... "

Alex snorted.

Senator McCuen stopped. Looked from Alex to Walter, bushy eyebrows raised in question.

"My retirement became official last evening. All paperwork done and passed."

"Ah. I see. May I continue with my proposal?"

Walter held the Senator's eyes, did some careful thinking. Did he want revenge? If so, to what extent was he willing to go for it?

Slowly he nodded his permission.

"The Director's appointment was a compromise. He is a political outsider. He seems to think that the Bureau exists as an employment agency for his family and friends. You have personally had some experience of that.

"It has come to my attention that he feels that the panel is there to logroll his budget through. I would like to dissuade him of that notion.

"If in helping me do so, you can get a sense of getting your own back for the legal support that was given you, so much the better. Personally, I would like to see that embarrassment be withdrawn from the legal department of the Bureau. And, though I am only a country lawyer, I find his presence in my profession
offensive."

He got up, poured more brandy in all their glasses. Krycek seemed well pleased with his proposal: an ally in that camp was a welcomed surprise.

Their discussion over the next twenty minutes convinced the Senator that even if all Walter Skinner did was look over his questions for the Director, he would be more than well served. The man had the intelligence, the perceptions, the drive to have risen much higher in the Bureau than he had. Someone, besides Spender, had
certainly been made very uncomfortable by this man. 

They were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. "Ah, here comes the second part of my proposal."

A man, probably in his early forties, well-dressed in an executive type suit and tie, came into the room.

"Thank you for inviting me, Senator."

Walter had stood for an introduction when he heard a hiss from Alex. He turned and saw Alex become the killer he had once so hated.

"Krycek." The new guest nodded, reacting much the same way as Alex.

"Nash." Almost a snarl. 

The tension in the library rose dramatically. Walter went on alert. He didn't know who this Nash was, but it was obvious Alex did. And didn't like him.

Senator McCuen filled a glass with brandy, went to stand between the two men. Offered the glass to Nash, who accepted it, never taking his eyes off Alex.

"I would," he said, in a very quiet voice, his accent suddenly very pronounced, "like to remind the two of you that you have both retired from the field. So cut
out the bobcat dance, both of you, and sit down."

He waited till the two men had complied with his wishes, smiled at Walter, who also sat down, very slowly. He remained standing.

"Thomas Nash and Alex Krycek have a bit of a history," he explained to Walter. "I believe that each has tried several times to... eliminate... the other. Obviously with little success."

He waited till Walter responded with a raised eyebrow. "Mr. Nash decided some time ago to count his blessings and stop pushing his luck. He, and several other ex... What do you call yourselves, Nash? Ex-agents?" 

"Operatives. Ex-operatives." He took a sip of brandy, still holding Alex's eyes.

"Ah, very good. Descriptive, yet neutral. As I was saying, Mr. Nash has set up an organization that trains bodyguards, provides business executives with the survival skills necessary for going into parts of the world that are inhospitable, but relevant for some of their business concerns. Quite above board, Mr. Skinner. And very successful."

He turned to Nash. "Perhaps you would like to continue, Nash." And he sat down.

Nash finally released Alex's eyes, looked down into his drink.

"I'm expanding. I understand from Senator McCuen that there is a possibility that Skinner will be accepting a temporary position with his office. I was wondering if
a position as a sort of consultant with my organization would interest you."

Alex bit out, "Shit, Nash. Just what would you expect me to consult on?"

"Staying alive. For one thing. Self-defense for another. Especially when handicapped. Strategy. Conning your captors. Mental tricks to surviving
torture."

He paused, dropped the "operative" persona, became the executive. "The staff I have is small, but each is an expert in his or her field. We all have two things in common. We're over thirty. And we're still alive." 

"And that qualifies me?"

"Shit, Krycek, you've been in the business for what, ten, twelve years? You've got fucking Ph.D qualifications. Not to mention you survived the last four years with only one arm. Bets were that you wouldn't last two months when people realized the state you were in after Tunguska.

"There are conditions if you decide to come out and look over the place. You'll probably recognize one or two faces. Just remember everyone's retired, you included. No scores need to be settled. No physical attacks. No eliminations. On both sides.

"The pay's good. And it'll give you something to do with your time if Skinner's busy. Besides, you may discover you like the work. It's a hell of a lot safer than what you're used to, and you get to go home at the end of the day."

Alex shared a look with Walter.

"I think we need some time to think about these offers, Senator." Walter spoke for the two of them. 

Nash finished his drink, stood up, He pulled out a case from his inside pocket - Alex had tensed when his hand had gone under his lapel - and handed Alex a card. "Come check us out anytime you want. Pleasure to have met you, Skinner. Thank you, Senator."

"I think we'll take our leave as well, Senator." Walter shook hands with McCuen. "I will seriously consider your offer, Senator. Please thank your wife for the lovely dinner. Alex."

In the car, Alex slouched against the door, watching Walter's face in the passing lights. He waited till they were home. "So how much help are you going to give him?"

Walter sighed, rubbed his face with his hands. "McCuen wants at least three maybe four months of my time."

Alex frowned. "I thought he was talking five to six weeks."

"The hearings begin in three weeks. The Bureau usually slots two to three more. That's if all goes well. They only sit three days a week. What McCuen is asking
for will drag things out far longer than that."

"Are you going to give him what he's asking for?"

Walter yawned, suddenly tired. The last two days had been a roller-coaster for him. "He's right in that I would love to get some of my own back, especially for the Director's god-son. But I also know that budget cut-backs put the lives of field agents more at risk all the time."

Alex slouched low on his spine, toed his boots off and propped his feet on the table. "Seems to me that I heard Scully complaining about a redecorating spree in the upper levels. And," he continued after thinking a bit, "wasn't there some squawking about someone's promotion, just about the time Spender got you."

"The Director's new son-in-law." Walter rested his head on the back of his chair. "You going to be able to work with Nash?"

Alex grinned, knew both of them were going to be "gainfully employed" for the next little while. "It'll be interesting. I wonder who those 'familiar faces' will turn out to be."

"We'll have to go and close up the cabin. And you can break the news to Anton and Mina that you have an nine- to-five job." Suddenly Walter laughed. "And that you've joined the legion of tax-payers."

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

The Director was quite pleased with the way things were going. Already in the second day of hearings he felt that this would be over in no time at all.

Then on the second day, things changed. The consultant sitting just behind Senator McCuen was absent. The proceedings had started when the chair was filled. By a large balding man wearing glasses. A man the Director had never expected to see again in his life.

The Senator smiled at the reaction the Director couldn't hide. The hunt was on and his own personal bloodhound, even if all he did was sit and look barely interested, was going to make the Director look over his shoulder for the entire length of these hearings.

Into the second week, Walter came home one day to find several messages waiting in his computer. Anonymous reports of internal improper budgetary expenditures. There were more of them by the end of the week. Most of them related to personnel appointed by the Director. Some mere rumours and innuendo. Others accompanied by scanned copies of actual billing, other documented support.

"Looks like some people have decided that you're their white knight." Alex, fresh out of the shower, wearing only jeans, curled up in a chair in Walter's home office.

Walter made a grunting noise, neither positive nor negative in meaning. He looked Alex over. "You're sporting a couple of new bruises. I thought this was a desk job."

Alex smiled. "Was too nice a day to stay inside. We had ... what do you call it? Oh, yeah. A field trip."

"So how did you end up with the bruises? Or should I ask what does the other guy look like?" 

"Fergus was out with a couple of her crew. We sort of gave them a bit of a demonstration."

Fergus was one of those familiar faces Nash had spoken about. A tall, elegant woman, who knew as much about killing as Alex did. Their occasional clashes were always for the benefit of their students. At least, that was always the explanation. 

He assumed that Fergus would also be sporting a new set of bruises.

Alex had adjusted to regular work, if training people in assault techniques could be consider "regular". He had gone with the notion of just hanging around the estate Nash used as his compound, so that Walter would take the position McCuen had offered him.

But he found that, not only was he good at passing on instruction, he actually liked the work. The ex-operatives were for the most part people like him, who were tired of the game, surprised to find that they were still alive, and needed a job where their skills would actually be appreciated.

There had been a few personality clashes, but Nash had been up front when he'd said there were conditions imposed on everyone who worked for him. If necessary,
he was quite willing to put an end to confrontations himself, with his fists.

They both had made it a condition of employment that they would not be expected to be around come Easter. The visit to Anton and Mina had gone off pretty much as Walter had forecasted. 

Except that when they got to Alex's room, the double bed had been replaced with a king-sized one. Mina had expressed surprise at their surprise. "Alexei, you yourself barely fit in that bed. Where did you expect Walter Sergei to sleep, on the floor?"

And there was a bit of tension at the hockey game. Alex had just bought the tickets, not checking to see whom Boston was playing that night. Unfortunately, it turned out to be Washington. After the first period intermission, Alex and Mina sat between the two hockey fans, trying hard to ignore the squabbling between Anton and Walter. Which continued into supper, until Mina put her foot down, hard, on both their necks. The subject of hockey was henceforth banned in her presence. Alex snickered.

For Easter services, Walter had brought a suit, but the best he could get on Alex was dress pants, a shirt and tie, and the ubiquitous black leather jacket. 

"This thing lasts three hours," complained Alex as Walter was fixing his tie for him. 

"Music is wonderful. All bass and baritone. Just think of it as a concert with lots of standing and sitting. You'll live."

Mina hugged them both tightly when they left, sent them home with enough food to feed themselves for a week. They'd eaten cold perogies on the drive back.

"So what are you going to do with all that information that keeps popping up on the screen?" Alex knew that Walter was trying to walk a thin line between his idea of loyalty and his anger at the re-routing of federal funds by the Director. Nothing overtly illegal, just all sorts of "perks" that added up to decreased budgets in the lower levels. 

Years of being told to tighten their demands offset by overboard spending at the top. Had the Director really needed to lease a private jet to get him and his two PAs to the West Coast? Especially since the FBI had a plane-load of people going to the same conference. On regular flights. Squeezing into those too-small spaces the airlines allotted for human beings.

At the hearings, Walter was beginning to slip the occasional piece of substantiated information over to the Senator. Who did not question the change of heart. The Director found he sweated every time Skinner began writing on the pad the Senator kept by his side. 

The Senator appreciated the information, used it judiciously. Found that all it took to draw the Director's attention to his end of the panel was for Skinner to shift in his chair. Old Stone Face, as one of his researchers had called Skinner, never reacted to the Director's glares, the occasional pointed barbs that were aimed at Skinner. He made a mental note to himself never to invite Skinner to participate in one of his monthly poker games.

"Excuse me, Mr. Skinner." Walter looked up from the papers whose information he was verifying. "There's a Mr. Nash on the phone for you. He says it's important."

Skinner thanked the assistant the Senator had assigned to him, waited till she had left the office, and picked up the phone, heart in throat. If anything had happened to Alex... 

"Skinner here."

"I'll tell you first off that Alex is fine. But we've had some trouble here."

Walter felt relief then "What kind of trouble?"

"Alex nearly took out one of the students this morning. Don't freak out on me, Skinner. It was provoked. The rest of the class is behind him all the way. And it
turns out the guy was an FBI plant."

"Cops getting involved?"

"No way. We get all candidates to the program to sign a waver of responsibility should they happen to get injured. The guy is just badly bruised. Though it'll be some time, if ever, before he gets to raise his voice."

"Okay. What happened?"

According to Nash, the new intake that came in that week was the usual except that one of the men seemed to react negatively to Alex's presence. Made more than a few cracks about cripples, gays, traitors. Alex had ignored the whole thing. Nash had found out about it when one of the other students had come to him to lodge a complaint about the idiot.

Alex had shrugged it off when Nash had asked him about the situation. He was used to it. Was nothing new. The guy wanted a rise out of him, and he wasn't going
to get it.

But this morning, the guy had finally said something that had made Alex flip.

"What did he say?" Walter rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

Nash sighed. "The asshole made a crack about you. Something about you being dirty, about traitors betraying traitors and landing in some cushy job sitting behind some senator. It took four of us to get Alex off the guy.

"When we did, the guy was trying to tell us that we would all go to jail, for letting Krycek attack an FBI agent.

"I just got off the phone with the president of the company the guy was supposed to be working for. Seems the Bureau came to see him, gave him a story of checking up to see that we were not some cover for some subversive operation. Told him it would be his patriotic duty to his country to give this agent a legit cover for his investigations.

"I've told him to take his business somewhere else.

"The other three in the class have given me hand-written reports on what occurred. All of them back Alex. One even says that if Alex had really wanted to kill the jerk, the guy would be dead. That he was just teaching him a lesson."

"Where's Alex now?"

"Fergus has got him demonstrating the move that he used to disable the jerk to her class and his. Christ! They'll all have sore throats by the end of the day."

"You're sure he's all right?"

"Yeah, he seems to be. Skinner, the student was right: if Alex had wanted to kill the guy, he'd have been dead before any of us could have done anything. And I've
placed a call in to the Director of the Bureau to tell him that next time he wants to check us out, he should send someone who actually knows what he's doing. And I will lodge a formal complaint. More than that, I don't know what I can do."

Skinner growled, "You can tighten up your intake verifications."

"Goes without saying. I put my PA on verifying the rest of the intake right away. Everyone pans out." His tone changed. "Skinner, whatever you're doing at the hearings, you sure managed to piss someone off, big time. Be careful."

The Senator had been warned that a call had come for Skinner that had upset him. When Skinner sat next to him at the meeting, he made certain his mike was off
before leaning over to talk to Skinner.

"What happened?"

"The Bureau slipped someone in at Nash's who's been riding Alex all week. This morning the jerk changed tactics and attacked me." 

"And?"

"And the Bureau is going to find that they probably have an agent on permanent disability. And I'm going to give you much more than you want."

Walter moved the pad to in front of him. And began writing a line of questioning for McCuen to follow. 

At first, McCuen just watched Skinner, finally realized that the man was dangerously angry. Another mental note: never attack the man's lover. By the third page of notes, McCuen had seen the Director go from smug to nervous to downright anxious.

By the time the hearings were over, it was just a matter of time before the Director would announce his retirement.
*******************************************************

"Skinner. You would have to pick today to drop in." Nash passed a harried hand through already ruffled hair.

Skinner smiled. "You did tell me any time. Is Alex up to something? I didn't find him in his office. Or in the classroom."

Nash moaned, dropped his head on his cluttered desk. "My assistant is off taking care of her mother who's just had a hip replacement. I can't find anything. Her replacement didn't come back the second day because she's sure someone's going to kill her. 

"Fergus thinks she may be pregnant. Christ! She's forty if she's a day. What the hell is she doing with a biological clock?

"And Krycek decided that a game of tag with weapons is the perfect activity for a lovely autumn day. The only good thing that's happened today is that I convinced him to use paint-guns instead of live ammunition."

Skinner grinned "And now me. Would you like me to come back some other day?"

Nash sighed, thought about it for maybe five seconds. "No. Maybe this is for the best. I can play on your sympathy."

He got up, poured two coffees. "It's times like this that I wish I hadn't banned alcohol from the premises."

He sipped the coffee he had made several hours ago, nearly spat it up. "God, that is awful!"

Skinner laughed. "Reminds me of the crap you drink on a stake out."

Nash watched Skinner walk around his office, looking at the stuff he had on his walls to impress prospective clients. He sat on the edge of his desk. "How do you
want it, smooth and slick or to the point?"

Skinner slouched against an elegant wooden filing cabinet in the corner. "To the point."

"Krycek tells me you're bored with the hearings. That basically you've given the Senator more than he needs to hang the Director and his cronies out to dry." 

"You need something new to keep you busy. Because if you continue being bored, you're probably going to want to leave DC and I'm going to lose one of my top staff."

"Tell me," Skinner ignored most of Nash's comments, "when you offered Alex the job did you expect him to be good at it?"

"Yeah, I did. It wasn't a charity thing so that the Senator could keep you around. What surprises me the most is that the students like him. Respect him."

Skinner smiled. "He gets a real kick when they call him sir."

"Another thing that surprised me was the way you tamed him. He was pretty wild. I never expected to see the Alex Krycek I knew set down roots."

"Nash. Get to the point."

"I need a Director of Operations. Someone who understands where my staff has been, where they're coming from. Where they can go.

"The place needs expansion again. I'm thinking of taking on a couple more... "

"Ex-operatives," offered Skinner.

"Yeah. Look, my strong point is negotiations. I can sell the client on the product. Follow through on satisfaction studies. Trouble-shoot on location if and when it's needed. But that means that I have to be out of the place a fair amount.

"I need someone who can run the place for me. Deal with the day-to-day demands - and I'm not hiding the fact that these guys are heavy on demands - in a responsible way. Someone who won't panic when Krycek and Fergus use each other for 'demonstrations'. Or when O'Brien wants something the size of the Titanic for boarding practice.

"Someone I can work with when I'm here. And who can run the show when I'm out in the field. Someone with organizational skills who understands the working of this kind of set-up.

"The pay's not as good as what you're getting as a senatorial consultant, but it's fair. All I'm asking is that you think about it. Maybe spend a day in the place to get a feel for it."

"Find you an assistant?" Skinner put his untouched coffee down. "Get a decent coffee maker into the place?"

"All that and a tower office as well."

The main building on the grounds was an old mansion that some robber baron had built at the turn of the century. It came with a couple of towers and large rooms, beautiful wood floors and twelve foot high ceilings. 

Nash had turned one of the towers into classrooms; the other, into an office - his - and a conference room at the top. There were five large windows bringing in the outside light into the rounded room. 

"The fireplace works. Bathroom's through there. Includes a shower. Assistant can use the connecting hall as an office. If you want an assistant, you'll have to find one yourself."

Skinner walked over to one of the windows. There was a large open space around the building, an orchard of some kind to the west, a series of other buildings to the east. He saw Alex, with maybe one splotch of colour on his sweat suit, lead three others who were in various rainbow hues through the back yard and into the mansion, talking seriously, being listened to seriously.

Nash was right: he was bored. The only intellectual stimulation he was getting these days was their evening chess games.

"Does that work?" He pointed to the phone on the side table by the conference table. Nash nodded. Skinner dialled. 

"Dana, it's Walter. What's the phone number of the PA in your department that the Director forced into retirement last month? Thanks. I'll explain at supper. Tomorrow night? Good."

He looked up at Nash who was grinning. "I'm not saying yes. A lot will depend on my discussion with Alex tonight. But I will consider it."

"Hello. Is this Catherine Bainbridge? This is Walter Skinner. Yes. Mrs. Bainbridge, I was wondering if the chance to work in a zoo would be of interest to you? No, the human kind. No, and it's not for the faint-hearted, believe me. Today. Actually, as soon as possible. I'll give you the address. Oh, and Mrs. Bainbridge, dress casually. Feeding time can be very messy."

He looked at Nash. "She'll be here in an hour. I'll explain the situation to her. While I'm waiting, let's see some of the paperwork."
*******************************************************

"So," Alex stretched, rubbing himself against a sated Walter, "are you going to be the new boss?"

"I don't know." Walter stroked the arching back, kneaded the tight ass muscles of his lover. "How do you feel about the whole thing?"

Alex lay on top of Walter, stroking his foot up and down Walter's leg. "I have the funny feeling that my sleeping with you isn't going to help my budget in the least."

"Probably not," agreed Walter.

"And that in the sense of fair play, you're going to go over backwards to show me no favouritism."

"Maybe not backwards, but far enough so that there's no friction with the others. Wouldn't do for Fergus to think you've got one up on her, her being pregnant and all. All that anxiety wouldn't do the baby much good." 

Alex laughed lazily, too filled with good humour to challenge Walter's assessment of Fergus: he'd learn soon enough what she was like.

"If I take it, there are a few things that need to be clear, Alex."

"Like?"

"Like there you're Krycek and I'm Skinner. Like there's no sex in the office, neither yours nor mine. That I will be your department head, and I will cut your demands or ignore them or toss them out if I feel they're unreasonable."

"You're not going back to old Stone Face, are you, Walter? Because I can put up with the rest of it, but not that."

"No. And if you ever feel uncomfortable with the situation, I want your promise to tell me. That's your territory. I'm the interloper. And I promise you I'll leave it to you."

"And do what?"

"Well, just so you know, Nash's wasn't the first offer I've had lately. Just the most interesting one." He licked some of the sweat that had gathered in the hollow by Alex's collar-bone. "So what are we feeding Dana tomorrow night?"
******************************************************* 
NIF
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