Title: Skinner's Descent pt 1
Author: Batela
Rating: PG-NC17
Summary: Pre-Xfiles. Skinner rocks the boat as he is made the 
youngest AD at the FBI.
Email: batela@angelfire.com
URL: http://www.angelfire.com/mb/wsjournal/index.html
Note: the lecture that I have Mulder giving was not written by 
moi. I'm not that bright- ancient history and comparative 
religions yes, abnormal psychology no. I took it verbatim from 
The Serial Killer Info Site at 
http://www.serialkillers.net/index.html.
 
*****************
"Make him AD? Are you crazy? He isn't even 40 yet. A 
promotion like that will cause a riot. It was bad enough when we 
made him SAC at 35. How can I explain to the public a 38 year 
old AD? How do I justify the cost?"
"We need him in place. I don't care what you say or to whom, 
just have it done. Use his record, it's practically flawless."
"He's a boyscout, he won't do this work."
"He's a patriot, he'll do it."
************
The last thing he remembered was jumping Anderson, hearing a 
loud noise and feeling his gut explode.
"Walter." A soft hand stroked the side of his face.
"Walter, come on, open those beautiful brown eyes and look at 
me, honey." A familiar scent drifted past him. Sharon. She ran a 
finger down his nose. He could feel a slight trembling in her 
hand. He tried to open his eyes and winced at the onslaught of 
light. He heard a click.
"Alright, I've turned off the side lamp, try again." his wife said. 
He opened his eyes cautiously. Sharon was leaning over him, 
her face slightly blurry. He needed his glasses. Her face was 
white, her eyes and nose were red.
"Rudolph." he croaked. She gave a watery smile and put her 
twisted up tissue to her nose.
"What.." he tried.
"What happened? The ASAC said you caught Anderson. When 
you tackled him, his gun jammed up under your vest and went 
off. You've been in surgery for 14 hours." She started to cry 
again and Skinner automatically lifted his arms to her. He 
lowered them fast. IV's were attached to both arms and the 
slight muscle pull on his stomach caused his wound to wake up. 
He gasped and clenched his teeth. Sharon pressed the call 
button and spoke soothingly to him, stroking him gently until the 
nurse came in. Skinner never noticed, he lost consciousness.
 
2 weeks later
the Skinner home
Skinner walked slowly up the steps of their home, his stomach 
muscles reminding him to take it easy. Sharon went ahead and 
opened the door for him. He hated appearing weak in front of 
his wife but as usual she ignored his testosterone displays. He'd 
never admit to her that he appreciated her strength when he 
was temporarily down for the count. Walter walked cautiously 
over to the couch where Sharon had arranged bed pillows to 
make him more comfortable. He eased himself down and 
rearranged the pillows. 
Maggie watched from the bookshelf until her master was still 
and jumped down to the floor, padding silently over to the 
couch. She jumped up onto the back and sniffed at the strange 
smells emanating from him before twitching her whiskers and 
running off. 
"Honey, do you need a pain pill?" Sharon asked after setting his 
bag on the floor. Walter didn't open his eyes. Hell, yes I need a 
pain pill.
"No, I'm fine." He knew Sharon didn't believe him but she'd let 
get away with it. For the moment. It certainly wasn't the first 
time he'd been shot, he was sure it wouldn't be the last. She 
knelt next to him and he opened one eye. She kissed him 
lightly.
"Don't you dare scare me like that again." she ordered him in a 
trembling voice.
"Yes, ma'am."
She put her head on the pillow next to his, being careful not to 
jar him, and took his hand, raising it to her lips.
************
Skinner slept for almost two days straight, waking up long 
enough to eat a little and take a bathroom break. He'd be 
damned if he was going to use that stupid bedpan the nurse 
sent home with him. He even managed to upset Sharon by 
taking a shower after the nurse expressly told him sponge baths 
only until his wound was healed over. Screw that. Sharon put a 
new bandage on his stomach all the while glaring at him and 
calmly informing him that he was a stubborn SOB. Yeah, well, 
at least he was a clean stubborn SOB. Maggie was happier with 
the hospital smells off of him, too. At least she stopped hissing 
at him and puffing her tail.
He wished Sharon would open a window, get some of the 
cloying smell of all the flowers out of the house. There were 
bouquets everywhere from the department, his team and the 
families of the victims. Candy filled the freezer but Skinner put 
his foot down over the teddy bears. He had Sharon donate 
them to the Firemen's Teddybear fund for homeless children. 
Anonymously, of course.
"Walter? AD Jackson is here. Would you like see him?" Sharon 
asked him. He didn't even hear the doorbell. AD Jackson? Up 
from L.A.? He sat up gently. Sharon showed the AD in and left 
them to talk.
"Walter." Jackson shook Skinner's hand and sat in the chair 
next to the couch. Jackson looked young for his 65 years. He 
kept himself in shape, something Skinner had to admire about 
the man. Skinner could only wish he could keep himself alive to 
reach 65, much less still be in relatively good shape.
"How are you feeling, son?" The older man put a briefcase on 
the floor and looked at Skinner's bandaged stomach.
"I'm doing fine, Sir, thank you. How did the case turn out? 
ASAC McKinney said that I got Anderson?" 
"That you did, SAC Skinner. From the ASAC's report, you left 
the team, against your own orders that nobody leaves, you 
placed yourself into a deadly situation, risked the lives of the 
victims, not to mention yourself and your men. You went into 
the house and jumped Anderson, got his gun caught up under 
your vest and was shot, at which time your team used the 
chaos of the situation and took Anderson down." 
Skinner closed his eyes. He could have gotten everyone killed.
"How much trouble am I in, Sir?" Come on, get it over with, do I 
even have a job to get back to? 
Jackson was silent. Skinner opened his eyes and looked at the 
older man. He found the man's gray eyes looking at him in 
speculation. Skinner didn't understand the look.
"Walter. Why did you go into that house?"
He didn't have to think about his answer.
"Because Anderson was going to kill those people. He was 
following his own MO exactly. He had killed 15 people already 
and I wasn't about to let him get anyone else."
Jackson sat back, his fingers steepled in thought.
"But you could have been killed." he said, looking at a picture on 
the wall but not really seeing it. 
"That wasn't a consideration, Sir. Those people came first. I 
pledged to protect the American people and that's what I was 
doing. My job, Sir."
The AD stood up and paced, his hands clasped behind his back. 
Skinner was used to the action, it was Jackson in deep thought. 
He must really be in deep shit.
"What if..." Jackson started and stopped.
"What would you do if two honest people, good people, found 
themselves in a stand off against eachother? Who would you 
save then?"
That had to be one of the strangest questions anyone had ever 
asked him. Where was Jackson going with this?
"That's a tough question, Sir. I think I'd first try and talk them out 
of it. If they're good people, hopefully they'd be reasonable."
"And if both had cocked guns aimed at eachother? Both 
knowing that they were in the right and that the other was 
wrong?"
"I can't answer that, Sir. I hope I'd make the right decision at the 
right time." 
Jackson paced. Skinner had a feeling that wasn't the answer 
the AD was looking for.
"AD Ward in DC is dead. No foul play, he had a heart attack."
Skinner was confused over the jumping around through 
different topics. AD Ward?
"He had charge of VC, didn't he?" Skinner asked, needing to 
say something. He was sorry the man was dead, but he didn't 
know Ward.
"Yes, he did. That's an important post, Walter, over 70 percent 
of the FBI's cases are Violent Crimes, you know that. The post 
hasn't been filled yet."
"Why?"
"Because the candidates for it... never mind, doesn't matter 
why. Walter, I want you to fill the spot."
Skinner was positive he couldn't have heard Jackson correctly.
"Sir?"
"AD, Walter. You. In DC." 
Skinner didn't know what to say, there had to be some kind of 
mistake. 
"Sir, I'm only 38, how could I be AD?"
Jackson sat down and looked at him.
"I'll be honest with you, Walter, I argued with that same reason. I 
think you need more field time, but ultimately I can see you 
making your way up to that rung of the ladder, maybe even 
beyond it. You're a natural born leader, son. This wasn't my 
decision however, I was overruled by higher powers. It's a 
different ball game up here, so you think about this carefully. If 
you don't think that you can play the political game, and it is all 
about politics, refuse the post."
"Sir, I don't know what to say." Skinner felt lost in the sudden 
head rush. Would Sharon even agree to the move? Leave the 
North-West? Live in Washington, DC? He really didn't want a 
desk job, he was a man of action not papers, but getting out of 
the field might help to mend the widening rift in his marriage. He 
could see Sharon practically age before his eyes every morning 
when he left for work and knew that her only thoughts were of 
the one day that she would get that phone call that all wives of 
law enforcement officials dreaded getting. This latest incident 
only made matters worse. He should leave her, let her get on 
with her life with someone more stable but he couldn't leave for 
his own selfish reasons; he loved her too much.
Jackson was still looking intently at him. Skinner had a feeling 
he was being tested but he didn't know what for.
"I need to talk with my wife, Sir." There was no way he was 
going to make this kind of decision without talking it over with 
Sharon. If only to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
Jackson nodded.
"I understand, Agent, give me a call. Soon." Jackson patted 
Skinner's shoulder and let himself out.
*************
Sharon had almost thrown herself into his arms but 
remembered his injuries at the last minute and settled for 
covering his face with kisses. He didn't mind.
Skinner was given two months to get his affairs in order, a 
month longer than the Borough would like but he still needed 
time to heal. He and Sharon had decided on renting out their 
house instead of selling it. The NW was becoming popular and 
property was in hot demand. It would make a nice side income. 
They didn't need the moving money; since the move was job 
related, the Borough was paying for it. A realtor had sent them 
photos and video tapes of available houses in DC and the 
surrounding areas for the Skinners to choose from. They chose 
a nice little three bedroom in Georgetown; one bedroom and a 
private den for each of them. Since Sharon worked out of the 
house as a book editor, she had first choice of rooms for her 
office. They packed up necessities first and sent them on ahead 
with a moving company so that by the time they got to their new 
home, they'd have clothes and some furniture. The rest would 
go with a second van when they left for the plane. On their last 
night in their house, they made love and Sharon cried. She 
assured Walter that nothing was wrong, it was just emotional 
ties to their home. They had lived there for ten years, they had 
laughed, loved, argued, and cried in that house. Her only regret 
was that they never heard a child's voice joining with theirs. 
That was one of Walter's own deepest regrets, that he was 
unable to give her children. His time in Viet Nam destroyed all 
chances of that. They chose not to adopt due to his job; Sharon 
didn't want to raise a child alone if he was killed. That thought 
gave Walter pause. Maybe now that he wasn't going to be in the 
field, they could bring up that subject again. He'd table it for the 
moment, though. 
****************
Georgetown, DC
Two months later
Maggie was not happy about her new home. It smelled stranger 
than her owner did when he was wounded and commandeered 
her couch. She stalked around the house growling and hissing 
into corners. She knew that her owners were considering taking 
her to that place and let some stranger poke and prod her but 
she couldn't explain that the walls had ears. She tried protecting 
their home from the rude men that entered when her parents 
weren't home but one of them locked her up in the bathroom. 
Nervy creatures. At least she got some good lovies when Dad 
got home and discovered her. She liked Dad-lovies, he cuddled 
her well and knew where all her favorite scratch places were.
Skinner knew he was going to be in for a tough time at his new 
office. The new boy needed to be hazed. Especially a new boy 
who had the nerve to be AD at 38. The other ADs and section 
chiefs greeted him politely enough, but he could tell he was in 
for a ride. On his first day in, AD Jackson was there to meet 
him and show him around, introduce him to people. Skinner 
took an instant disliking to AD Alvin Kirsh and didn't know why. 
He also didn't quite know what to make of the strange older 
man who stood in the back of the rooms, smoking a cigarette. 
Everyone ignored him so Skinner did, too. 
He took a breather at noon in his new office.
"AD Skinner?" the door opened and a woman entered. Skinner 
opened his eyes and looked at the older woman.
"I'm Gloria, your assistant." She plunked a pile of folders down 
on his desk, startling him.
"These are new and currant cases that need to be looked over 
and assigned. I will set your daily schedule and we will go over it 
every morning at 8am. The ADs breakfast is at 7am. It isn't 
mandatory but since you're new, you may want to consider not 
missing it at least until you get to know people and then try to 
make it at least once a week. It would not be a good move 
politically to brush it off. Careers are made and broken over 
eggs benny."
Skinner was speechless over the tone of his secretary's -
assistant's- voice. She reminded him of his old CO in the 
Marines.
"Every morning you will have half hour meetings with agents for 
update reports starting at 8:15 until noon when you take lunch. 
At 1pm, you have a meeting in the Director's office where you 
will report on the morning's reports. The rest of the afternoon, 
you go over new cases and assign them to agents. You go over 
currant cases, take action where necessary, and drag agents 
over the carpet regarding their expense accounts. Don't treat 
the expense accounts lightly, I've seen grown men cry over one 
cell phone too many blown up. 
"Please do NOT change your schedule without informing me of 
the change. I won't be held responsible if you make a sudden 
change and don't tell me in time to cancel an appointment. 
Agents cannot be kept waiting in the outer office for no reason, 
they have jobs they need to get back to. Any questions?" Her 
stance dared him to ask.
"Yes, just one." he said quietly. That tone alone would have 
made his wife leave the room -fast.
Gloria looked at him expectantly, silently telling him to make it 
good.
"Where is the secretarial pool and how do I get a new assistant."
****************
Skinner sat in the Deputy Director's office. That strange man 
was there again, smoking.
"So, Walter, I hear you're already making waves. Starting with 
the secretaries." DD Kirkland said with a slight smile on his face.
"I guess so, Sir. I was done with barking sergeants a long time 
ago." Skinner wondered if he was in trouble on his first day. 
Kirkland laughed.
"I understand. Don't worry about it, all the agents were scared of 
Gloria anyway. Hell, I was scared of Gloria. You go ahead and 
staff your office as you see fit. Just as long as the job gets 
done." 
Kirkland gestured to the stranger.
"Mr. Skinner this is Mr... Smith. He's from.. higher up and you'll 
see him around here once in a while. Don't hesitate to take your 
orders from him. Sometimes there are things going on that are, 
shall we say, unofficial, in an official sort of way."
Skinner frowned. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.
"Sir?"
"Sometimes, Mr. Skinner, the good of the many outweighs the 
good of the one. That's a tough call to make; Mr. Smith has the 
clout to make that call, that's all I'm saying." Kirkland smiled 
innocently. Skinner felt a creep go up his spine. He didn't like it 
but he could live with it. He knew that a game needed to be 
played; he may be the new kid on campus but he was no spring 
chicken. He had avoided these games as much as possible, he 
thought they were stupid and a waste of time but he had placed 
himself right in the middle of a game already in progress. He'd 
step carefully until he knew his way around the board. 
"You should re-acquaint yourself with Quantico, Mr. Skinner." 
Mr. Smith suddenly said. It was the first time all day Skinner 
had heard the man speak. He had a strong self-assured voice, 
cultured.
"The majority of the new recruits will be under your jurisdiction. 
You'll want to keep watch of their progress, get to know their 
weaknesses and strengths. There is an agent over there, Fox 
Mulder from ISU. He's giving a lecture on Friday afternoon. I 
think you should hear what he has to say." 
It sounded like a friendly suggestion but Skinner had a feeling 
that it was an order. He'd go to Quantico on Friday if only to 
satisfy his curiosity. Someone had actually named their kid 
Fox? He's probably a red-head with shifty eyes and a long 
pointed nose.
**************
Quantico Academy
Well, he got the long pointed nose right. 
"Let's talk about murder. What is it? Yes, one person killing 
another, but what do the crime books define it as? 
"Murder,  
The willful and unlawful killing of one human being by another. 
This does not include: deaths caused by negligence, suicide, 
attempted murder, accident, or justifiable homicide. The other 
crimes listed have their own category to which they belong. 
"Murder can be further divided into categories; 1st degree, 2nd 
degree and so on.
"Generally, murder/homicide happens for a few very BASIC 
reasons. 
"First, which actually fits into category 1, is an outcome of an 
event: a quarrel, rage, reaction to an insult, or jealousy. 
(Holmes, DeBurger, Serial Murder).
"Category 2, is the "for gain" type of murder. Examples of this 
would be: monetary gains, revenge, protection of ones self, or 
even power. (Holmes, DeBurger, Serial Murder)
 
"Once we step outside of these "normal" motives for murder, 
we step into the far more serious-- such as serial murder. This is 
the type of murder that has perplexed all of us since Jack the 
Ripper.  
 
"But what, by definition, is serial murderer? Unlike the less 
complex murderer, serial killers portray several "elements":
"The most distinguishing factor is multiple victims (generally 3+ 
victims). A serial killer will continuously kill and not stop unless 
he/she is made to stop. Or, unless an event occurs which stops 
the killer. For example, the killer is institutionalized or 
incarcerated. This killing will have a "cooling down" or "cooling 
off" period, but will continue. A serial killer may even wait years 
before claiming another victim; the point is though: there will, 
undisputedly, be another victim.
"While "normal" murder most often involves persons who know 
one another, even in the slightest sense, serial killing has been, 
in the past, a stranger to stranger crime. It has only been 
recently that this is changing. For the most part though, we can 
say: the perpetrator and the victim usually do not know one 
another and have most often not had any previous contact.
"Serial killers, except in rare cases, work alone.
"For the serial killer, the motivation is not one of money, or the 
out-come of an event. The serial killer is simply motivated to kill; 
as you or I need water, the serial killer needs to kill. Generally, 
their need to kill is fueled by fantasies which have been building 
for some time. Currently, the thought seems to be that the need 
for control, power, and dominance is the major driving force 
behind the killings.
"Motives for their killings are not as obvious as the for-gain or 
reaction murderer. Their motives are generally internal, which is 
the mystery which must be solved to figure out why one 
particular serial killer is killing.
 
"So now we have differentiated between the typical murderer 
and the serial killer. Still, there is more. Like who, typically, is a 
serial killer? Men, women? How old are they? The answer to 
this is the best there is right now. The answer is a very 
generalized one, based on the traits of most known serial killers. 
"He is usually male, between the ages of 25-35, and he is 
usually white. The majority of the time, he will kill victims of his 
own race. The ages of his victims will vary greatly, depending 
on his particular "interests." His intellect ranges from below 
average to above average. He doesn't usually know his victims 
or have any particular hatred for them personally (though they 
might be symbolic to him in some way) most of the time...His 
victims never did anything to hurt him in any way...they are 
normally strangers to him. He doesn't come from one social 
class or another ; he can come from skid row or Park 
Avenue...just as his victims. He might be married, have 
children, and work...like many of us. Or, he might be so 
unstable that he either cannot work or works irregularly. He 
may not be able to maintain relationships with people, so may 
therefore be a loner. 
"There is often some confusion about exactly what a serial killer 
is. One of the biggest misconceptions is that a serial killer and a 
mass murderer are the same . This is not true. And a "spree 
killer" is neither a mass murderer or a serial killer. 
* A mass murderer is someone, for example, who shoots 
everyone in the post office and then maybe even him/herself. 
They kill several people in a matter of hours and there is no 
cooling off period. 
* A serial killer kills several people over a period of days, weeks, 
months, even years. There is a cooling off period and the killer 
goes through phases, or cycles. 
 
"Another misconception is that there is only 1 type of serial 
killer. In actuality, there are 4 types. distinctive 
 
"The 4 types are: 
*The Visionary Motive Type  
This is the group considered insane...psychotic. They often hear 
voices in their head telling them to commit the crime.
*The Missionary-Oriented Motive Type 
This type displays no psychosis to the outside world, but on the 
inside, this killer has a need to rid the world of what he considers 
immoral or unworthy. This type of killer will select groups of 
individuals to kill off (prostitutes, for example).
*The Thrill Oriented Motive Type 
These guys are in it for the fun. They get a high from killing. Of 
the 4 types, this is the one who enjoys killing...very sadistically. 
He is into the killing for excitement.
*The Lust Killer 
And finally, our sexual killer. These are the ones who kill for the 
pure turn on. For them, the amount of their pleasure is in direct 
correlation with how much they can torture their victim; the 
more heinous their actions, the more aroused the become. This 
killer is in touch with reality and has relationships. In most cases, 
a serial murderer is a lust killer. Because the lust killer is so 
different from the rest, I am going to be putting up a whole 
section on just this type.
 
"Also, each of these types can be broken down into 2 more 
categories--the organized and the disorganized. Sometimes, 
there is a third category which a killer is considered "mixed" by 
displaying traits found in both the organized and disorganized 
killers.  
 
"Another misconception is that these killers are complete and 
total loners who cannot function in society. While true some of 
the time, it's not true all of the time. We often think Ted Bundy 
was an exception because he seemed to lead such a normal 
life. Not so. The fact is, many serial killers capture their victims 
by conning them--impersonating authoritative figures, a friendly 
little chat. They even will dress neatly. These behaviors are 
most indicative of an organized killer.  
 
"To get a sense of the disorganized killer, picture the loner you 
may have thought all serial killers are. This is the type you may 
see on the street and think that he is at least a low-life. He 
normally has a past record of poor performance in school, in 
social situations, in his job. He is usually sloppy and a "night-
owl." He would be the less intelligent of the 2 sub-types of 
offenders...to the point of showing a little too much interest in his 
crime--talking about it too much, checking out the crime scene. 
"Conclusion 
A serial killer very often appears 'normal'. He is very often the 
last person his neighbors or friends would think is a serial killer. 
Even those who are "different" than most people (like don't 
associate much with others) are capable of appearing normal 
enough to not be considered a serial killer at first."
Fox Mulder ended his presentation with question and answer 
time. Skinner was highly impressed with the lecture. Mr. Mulder 
had included a slide show and examples of expertly done 
profiles. Skinner looked at the man's file. Fox William Mulder, 
aged 30, brown/hazel.. yada yada.. Oxford.. BA Abnormal 
Psych.. IQ - holy shit! Skinner could see why this young man 
was attracting attention. Now why had Mr. Smith singled Mulder 
out? Why did Mr. Smith want him to hear this lecture? He went 
home, his mind racing with unanswered questions.
End pt 1