FROM THE INSIDE OUT

Author:	LaurieBDS@aol.com

Keywords:	Scully/Skinner/Mulder friendship

Description:   In order to catch Eddie Van Blundt after he escapes
from prison, Skinner, Mulder and Scully must look beyond the
surface of things.


***

8:14 a.m.

Mulder walked into the room, disgusted. He was in the middle of a
case involving witchcraft -- a legitimate X-File. Since their
reassignment back to Skinner and the X-Files, this was the first
honest to goodness case he could sink his teeth into.

Eddie Van Blundt was old news.  An interesting x-file in his day,
true, but now he was just annoying.  

"Sir," he nodded at Skinner, who stood when he came in.  Scully was
already there, giving him a warning look.  "Sir, I'm not sure why
you felt it necessary to call us in on this.  There are plenty of
agents who could handle this search...."

"Let's face it, Agent Mulder, you know what you're dealing with
here," Skinner interrupted, motioning for Mulder to take a seat. 

Mulder remained standing, not done with his argument.  "I don't
bring any special information or knowledge," Mulder persisted. 
"I'm right in the middle of the Verhicki case, at a crucial point
actually."

Skinner turned to face him, fixing him with the stare that made
him famous around the hallowed halls of the Hoover building. 
"Agent Mulder, I think you're under the impression this is
negotiable.  It is not, now please take a seat."

Mulder met Skinner's gaze for several moments, but finally and
noisily took a seat, harrumphing and shaking his head.

"Now, before we go to brief the team, I want your input on how best
to describe Mr. Van Blundt's unusual ability.  As I see it, we have
two obstacles in our search: the fact that he could very well be
standing out there hearing everything we have to say, as well as
our strategy in searching for him; and communicating to the team
Van Blundt's unique ability in a way they can appreciate,
understand,...and believe.  Any ideas?"

"What about including the guards that knew him on the team?" Scully
offered.  "They don't have to take our word for it regarding his
ability to shape shift."

Mulder shook his head. "I don't know that they'd have any special
knowledge of him.  He was on muscle relaxants that prevented him
from shape shifting since he's been here.  To them, the idea that
Van Blundt had any special ability was probably a joke." 

Scully shrugged, a little amused at Mulder's portrait of Van
Blundt.

"And the guards are the most likely targets for Blundt to imitate. 
He knows their mannerisms and their relationships.  Imitating
someone requires more than just a physical transformation," Mulder
said, not being able to resist giving a Scully a glance.  

She turned suitably red.  Skinner caught the exchange, but
catalogued it with no more than a raised brow. He turned away from
them to pace.  

"I think you have a point about his need to imitate things about
a person other than their appearance," Skinner agreed. "In
*hindsight*," he stressed, "there were a lot of discrepancies when
he imitated you, Agent Mulder.  That might be the key to finding
him now."

Mulder snorted.  "Like you say, *in hindsight* there were
differences in my personality.  Neither of you picked up on them
at the time."

"Who would, Agent Mulder?" Skinner answered.  "The situation
was...unusual, to say the least.  As you pointed out, now we know
what we are dealing with."

Scully remained resolutely still, wrestling with her own demons
regarding Eddie Van Blundt and his imitations.

"If we limit the team to people who've had no prior contact with
Van Blundt, we're starting from square one getting them to believe
in his ability," Skinner said, almost to himself as he weighed the
pros and cons, pacing once more.

His pacing was getting on Mulder's nerves.  "Listen, I'm the
'expert,' right?  The consultant whose opinion you can't do
without?  I'm telling you, we need to have a team made up of people
Van Blundt has never met."

"Well, that would seem to exclude you, wouldn't it, Mulder?"
Skinner ground out as he halted next to Mulder.  "Get over whatever
attitude you're bringing to this assignment, because you're on it,
as a consultant -- which means I'll hear you out, but the final
decision is mine how to proceed.  Are we clear?"

Mulder didn't assent, but he didn't disagree either, so Skinner
seemed to let it go.  He walked down to the end of the table at
which he had been sitting, and grabbed a notebook from his place. 

As he tossed the notebook to Mulder, he said, "Van Blundt's
journal.  I need a preliminary profile ASAP."  

Mulder nodded and got up from his spot at the table.

"Oh, and Mulder, you're mentioned in it repeatedly.  He seems to
be fixated with you, which makes you a natural target; so, from now
on you're going to have a shadow, even to take a piss.  I'm your
shadow right now, so make yourself comfortable."

Mulder closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose, resuming
his seat as he threw the journal back down onto the table in front
of him.

"Scully, I agree with Mulder about using a team Van Blundt doesn't
know.  That allows us to quarantine anyone who was here when he
escaped.  I think we can assume he wouldn't shape shift to another
inmate, so let's quarantine the guards, medical staff and warden. 
The warden's going to have my head for this, but I see no other way
to confine Van Blundt to the building.  We're also going to have
some practical difficulties.  Call in the guards that are off duty
and assign them in teams."

Scully nodded and got up to coordinate his instructions.  She shot
Mulder a glance as he sat there and sulked.  He wouldn't meet it.

"Scully, hold on a minute.  Mulder, what do you think about using
these people's families to help us rule them out as Van Blundt? 
We could instruct them to come up with 10 questions to ask."

"We could try it," Mulder interrupted, flippantly adding, "Dagwood
Penitentiary' version of the Newly Wed game."  At Skinner's glare,
he continued more seriously. "I think it could help us rule out
some people, but I don't think it would be conclusive in
identifying Van Blundt."

"Why not?" Skinner asked, a little exasperated.

"Well, Sir, not everyone has a close friend or family member that
can quiz them.  Even if they did, have you ever seen the Newly Wed
game?  That's the joke.  The couples get most of the questions
wrong," Mulder answered.  "Could you have passed a 10-question test
with your ex-wife, Sir?"

Mulder regretted the question as soon as he asked it, knowing he
just crossed over the line in being an asshole. Skinner hadn't
really done anything to warrant a personal attack.

Skinner kind of stiffened, as did Scully.  The air in the room was
tense as everyone awaited Skinner's reaction.  He finally exhaled
and worked his jaw a bit.  "Okay, we use it as far as it goes as
a test for exclusion," he determined, apparently also deciding to
let Mulder's remark pass.  He nodded to Scully, who left the room.

"We brief everyone in 10 minutes, Mulder.  I'll let you explain
about Van Blundt.  Work out whatever profile you can by then," he
ordered, strictly formal as he sat down at the table.

"You think that's such a good idea, Sir?  A shape-shifting tale
from 'Spooky' Mulder?"

Skinner snorted as he looked over his notes, but did not look up. 
"This was your case, Agent Mulder.  You get the honors," Skinner
said.  After a few moments, and with out looking up, he added in
mumble, "I'll back you up."

Mulder seemed to consider that for a moment before turning his
attention to the journal.  He only had time to skim it, so he
started at the back, skipping to the end as was his habit.  It made
sense in this situation to know Van Blunt's mind set right before
he managed to elude everyone.  As he rifled to pages further
forward, he realized his name was, indeed, mentioned a lot.  Van
Blundt seemed to be obsessed with him.  

He snuck a glance at Skinner, suddenly feeling like more of a heel. 
If he had been successful getting himself off this case, it would
be some other agent soaking in some great gossip about 'Spooky'
Mulder and what a loser he is.  Is that why Skinner was so
insistent he be on the case? He sighed, hoping Skinner hadn't been
trying to protect him.  Upper most in his mind, however, were
thoughts damning Van Blundt.

***

11:30 a.m.

"We've eliminated about 1/2 of the guards as suspects," Skinner
informed Mulder.  

"Suspects?" Mulder asked.

"*Suspects*, Agent Mulder.  I'm concerned with letting them go
home.  Van Blundt may have gotten to know a few of them personally,
learned enough to answer some of the questions thrown at him."

Mulder shook his head.  "I don't think so.  You can't possibly
cover all the possible areas a question could come from."

"Enough to answer five?  That's the average number these people
are getting right.  They all can't be Van Blundt."

Mulder snorted.  "Really? Only five?" He shook his head.  "Well,
we have to have some kind of policy of elimination.  I say send
them home if they get five or better correct.  We can help make
sure the questions are suitably personal.  The less people we have
to deal with the better."

Skinner nodded and headed to the door, passing Scully who was just
coming in.  She nodded at him, "Sir."

"Scully. Any news?"

She shook her head before meeting his eyes, and Skinner continued
on his way out the door.

Scully looked over at Mulder, who looked back down to the journal
to resume reading.  She slowly approached him, watching him
curiously the whole time.

"This journal is enlightening.  I'm not sure Van Blundt's purpose
with this stunt is to escape.  He's focused on me, I'm starting to
think he's set this up to be a game of cat and mouse between us,"
Mulder informed her without looking up.

Scully shrugged.  "For what possible purpose?" she said as she
attempted to look over his shoulder at the journal. 

He caught her movement out of the corner of his eye, and hunched
to prevent her from reading it.

"Mulder, what's with you and this case?" she asked as she rounded
behind him to sit down at the table.  "You've been acting weird
since you were assigned to it."

Mulder leaned back in his chair and sighed.  "We went through hell
to get the X-Files back, and for what?  to hunt down a guy that's
crime was trying to get laid?"

"Mulder, he raped 5 women."

"Rape, Scully?" he countered.

"*Rape, Mulder," Scully answered, her posture stiffening in
preparation for a lecture.

Mulder put up his hands in early defeat, not wanting to argue the
point.  "Regardless, Scully, he's hardly one of the F.B.I's most
wanted.  As an X-File goes, I can't learn anything more from him. 
And this," he said as indicated the journal, "is something I don't
need right now."

Without looking at the journal, Scully asked, "Why, Mulder? What's
in the journal?"

He looked at her a moment before answering. "Basically the complete
psychoanalysis of one Fox Mulder.  And let me put it this way, it's
not flattering."

"Mulder, this is Eddie Van Blundt we're talking about.  Why are
you taking anything he might say to heart?  Why do you care what
he thinks?" she said, voice of reason in full mode.

This time Mulder looked away, unable to meet her eyes.  "Because
he's right."

***
2:45 p.m.

"I think I have something here," Scully suddenly volunteered from
her hunched over position at the end of the table.  "I've been
going over the log sheets for the last few days.  Eddie has a
social worker visit him regularly, Laura Kohut.  She comes and goes
frequently.  What if he used her identity? or got her to help him? 
The guy is not completely without charm," she informed Mulder,
punctuating the remark with a little glare.

Mulder nodded.  "It's possible. It's probably the one that made him
wear that dorky hat he complained about. When did she last visit
him?" 

"Last night.  Although she checked back out of here at 7:45 p.m."

"Well before Van Blundt went missing," Mulder mused. "But, let's
bring her in for questioning anyway."

***

6 p.m.

The door opened, and a woman of about 35 was ushered in by Skinner. 
She was a little overweight, with long blonde hair and an
expression like a dear caught in headlights. 

"Ms. Kohut, why don't you take a seat?" Skinner directed.

She nodded and headed for the first available seat.  Skinner sat
down next to her, and turned immediately to address her.  "Ms.
Kohut, this is Special Agent Fox Mulder and Special Agent Dana
Scully.  We wanted to ask you a few questions about Eddie Van
Blundt."

She looked up briefly, just enough to glance at Mulder and Scully
before looking back down at her hands on the table.  "I don't know
very much about him." She looked up suddenly to fasten them with
a sincere look, "And I don't know anything about how he escaped."

"We're not saying you do," Mulder calmed her.  "We were just hoping
you could give us some insight into his personality."

"Mulder?" she suddenly asked, a puzzled look furrowing her brow. 
"Are you the Mulder he talked about?"  

Mulder's gaze shifted to Skinner for a moment, before he answered
her.  "Yes, I think I am."

"Oh," was her only response as she shrugged.  A ghost of a smile
crossed her lips.

"Ms. Kohut, could you tell us what you talked about with Eddie the
last time you saw him?" Skinner asked softly, his manner sincere
and cordial.

Laura's gaze came up to look in Skinner's eyes. She apparently
found something sympathetic, because her gaze remained fixed there. 
"It was last night.  I came by special to see him because it was
his birthday.  He got beat up again last week, and I felt bad for
him," she faded out.  At Skinner's understanding nod, she
continued.  "Eddie has a self esteem problem, and I was helping
him with that.  I kind of got off on the wrong foot at first.  One
of our textbook approaches is affirmations, so I had him wear this
hat...."

Mulder cut her off, not trusting himself to keep a straight face
during her sincere rendition of the hat story.  "What did you talk
about *last night*?" 

Laura glanced at him quickly at his question, but returned her gaze
to Skinner's as she answered.  "He was here, then anyway.  I really
think he was touched I stopped by.  I don't think people ever went
much out of their way for him, so it really meant something."

"That was a thoughtful thing to do, Ms. Kohut.  Did you talk about
anything specific?" Skinner asked her, getting her back on track.

"Not really.  It wasn't a professional visit," she looked down to
her hands again.  "In fact, I haven't been very *professional* when
it comes to Mr. Van Blundt.  Promise me you won't hurt him," she
suddenly pleaded with Skinner.  "I don't know why he warrants
this," she shrugged, "elaborate man hunt.  He wouldn't hurt a fly."

Skinner nodded.  "We don't want to hurt him, but he is a convicted
felon."

"Felon," she snorted, suddenly not looking in Skinner's direction
any more.  

"Ms. Kohut, when did you leave last night?" Scully interjected.

"7:30."

"Can you remember anything he said that seemed out of the
ordinary?" Skinner asked, again in his soft manner.

This time Ms. Kohut didn't look at him, but just shrugged.  "No,
not really."  Suddenly she looked up. "But he did thank me.  He
said that I helped him a lot, and he appreciated it."

"Well, I'm not surprised that he'd feel that way," Skinner offered
almost in passing as he stood up from the chair.  "Okay, Ms. Kohut. 
I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you to stay for a few hours. 
Why don't I take you down to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee."

Laura nodded and got up.  She seemed as though she was going to say
something to Mulder, but thought better of it as she allowed
herself to be led out of the room by Skinner.

***
12 p.m.

Skinner reached up to take off his glasses, wishing he had gotten
more sleep the night before. The hard part about this case was that
his heart wasn't in it.  This Van Blundt seemed pretty harmless
actually.  There was none of the adrenalin rush present in his body
when he was pumped up to apprehend a serial killer or terrorist. 
Caffeine would have to do.

He lay his glasses down on the table and got up to pour himself
another cup of coffee.  "Scully?" he asked, pot in midair in
preparation of getting her a cup as well.  

She shook her head no.  "I'm floating as it is."

"You know the Warden went home.  *Someone* could catch a couple of
hours of sleep in on his couch," he said pointedly.

"He went home?" Scully questioned, ignoring his vague direction. 
"I thought he only answered 4 questions right."

A smile tugged at the corner of Skinner's mouth as he answered. 
"Yes.  But he met his reputation as an asshole, and then some.  On
that basis, I ruled him out."

A trace of a smile crossed Scully's lips.  "Did he call the
Director like he threatened?"

Skinner nodded and shrugged.  "I didn't hear the conversation, but
I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to convince him I'm Eddie Van
Blundt.  He seems to think our strategy to find Eddie is one big
effort to humiliate him." More seriously he continued, "He's just
pissed off because all our efforts have been centered on his staff. 
Don't be surprised if we all have to go through the 10 questions
if we don't find Eddie soon,"  he said as he leaned back against
the table containing the coffee maker and sipped his coffee.

That thought unnerved him more than he would like to admit.  They
were requiring all staff of the penitentiary to call in friends and
loved ones to help i.d. them.  It was causing more than a little
bedlam, as their explanations as to why this was necessary were met
with skepticism.  On top of this, the less than stellar responses
of many of the employees to personal questions was causing family
arguments and hard feelings.  

Worse than the family squabbles his agents were trying to moderate,
were the people who didn't have anybody to call, who apparently
even retained a distance from their co-workers.  He had shared more
than one glance with an agent over some poor shmuck who had no way
to eliminate himself as a suspect.  It was fundamentally sad, and
depressing as hell.

Skinner sighed, sipping at his coffee, wondering who he would call
if the Warden's threat came to pass.  The thought was more than a
little sobering, as he suddenly understood that he was one of those
poor shmucks he had exchanged a look of pity over. Was it possible? 
Did he pull that far away over the years from those around him that
no one knew him well enough to ask 10 personal questions?  

"There's another option, you know," Scully suddenly informed him.

"What?" he asked hopefully.

"The muscle relaxation injection.  Once we get the possibilities
a little more narrowed down, we inject everyone with the muscle
relaxant that kept Eddie at bay up to now," Scully answered.

Skinner nodded.  "I thought about that, but were not anywhere near
having it that narrowed down.  You know damn well there will be
those few that will refuse it.  What do we do then?"

Scully didn't answer, but reached up to massage her neck as she
bent her head to the side slightly and winced at the knotted muscle
she found there.  She turned back to face the table.  "I guess I
could call my mom," Scully said dejectedly, apparently thinking out
load about whom she could call to come i.d. her.  

Skinner nodded, but didn't say anything.  

Scully seemed to be pondering the problem as she worked at the
tender spot in her neck, somewhat awkwardly reaching behind her. 
As he absently set down his coffee cup, Skinner suddenly wondered
if she was as alone as he was.  It seemed impossible that she could
be.  Somehow the possibility depressed him more than his own dismal
state of a personal life.  Had she dedicated herself to the X-Files
and Mulder so much that she had no other relationships in her life? 
Thank God she had her mother, but she deserved more.  

Scully deserved someone to know her inside out.  Someone to whom
10 questions would be a breeze; who could write her biography
because everything about her intrigued him.  Someone to rub her
neck, instead of be the cause of the pain in it.  He almost snorted
at that thought.  

She looked tired, too tired.  Sometimes he worried that she pushed
herself too hard following her illness; she was, after all, in
'remission'  -- a technical term that served as a reminder that she
may not have beaten the cancer.  

As he watched her struggle to massage her own neck, he wished
their's was a relationship that would allow for a quick neck rub
under the circumstances.  She looked like she could use one. After
all they had been through together, it should be fair for them to
consider each other friends.  He doubted he could pass the 10
question test, but he wished he could do this for her.  

Even as he wished it, he knew it couldn't come to pass.  But,
somehow, before he had time to consider what he was doing, he found
himself behind her, taking over for her at her neck.  His fingers
finding the tense spots, and massaging deep, but tenderly.  Human
contact, alien yet reassuring, maybe they weren't so pathetic after
all. 

***

When the weight of the warm, large hands fell to her shoulders,
Scully didn't move.  She was too confused.  When the fingers
started moving, tenderly massaging her strained muscles, she felt
like sighing.  She closed her eyes, and gave into the sensation of
having someone care for her, if just for a moment.  Just as she
started to enjoy the ministrations, her eyes popped open in
realization of the situation.  

Her hard-as-nails boss was giving her a neck massage in the middle
of the task-force command center.  What was wrong with this
picture?  Come to think of it, Skinner had been acting, well,
different.  She had been a little surprised at his tenderness with
Laura Kohut.  Usually, women only had eyes for Mulder when they
were being interrogated.  Of course, she had rarely been present
when Skinner was interrogating someone.  

She couldn't blame Laura.  Skinner had seemed sympathetic, even
caring. Oh God!  Could it be possible?  Judging from Ms. Kohut's
description, it sounded like Eddie had feelings for her.

And just now, when she and Skinner had been talking, she felt a
connection...an understanding. Eddie was nothing if not
understanding!  He even smiled and joked with her.  Skinner was
more casual just then than she could ever remember him being with
her.  She certainly had rarely seen him with his tie undone, and
now he was giving her a neck massage.  Eddie! It had to be Eddie! 


Skinner had come and gone the whole day.  His effort had been to
shield Mulder as a likely target, overlooking that perhaps he could
be a target himself.  How could they be sure he never was alone
with whomever Eddie morphed into?  He had definitely been alone
with Laura Kohut, the woman most likely to be the masquerading
Eddie Van Blundt.  And who better for Eddie to morph into, but the
head of the task force attempting to apprehend him?

She closed her eyes and cursed herself.  How could she fall for it
twice?  The memory of that night she spent drinking wine with the
fake Mulder, sharing, talking, came back to her.  She should have
known something was wrong right away.  Mulder bringing wine and
wanting to talk?  Was she just so dismally lonely she was an easy
target?  Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.

Out load, she said, "that feels wonderful," in an attempt to keep
Eddie off guard.  She arched her back away from the wooden chair,
making space between her holster and the seat.  As fast as she
could, she made a sudden grab for her weapon as she dropped off the
chair and rolled on her back on the floor.  She somehow managed the
maneuver, ending up on her back with her weapon pointing at
Eddie/Skinner.

A look of astonishment crossed Eddie/Skinner's features, quickly
replaced by anger.  "Agent Scully, may I ask what the hell you
think you're doing?" he growled menacingly.

"May I ask, what the hell you think you were doing?" she countered. 
She stood up carefully, keeping her gun trained on Eddie/Skinner
all the while.  With her free hand, she reached behind her at her
belt, retrieving her set of handcuffs.  She reached forward.  "Turn
around and put your hands behind your back."

"I most certainly will not," he got stubborn.

"Damn it, Eddie.  I know it's you.  Turn around!"

Just then, Mulder came into the room, flanked by a U.S. Marshall. 
Mulder's curiosity was a little piqued at finding Scully's gun
trained on Skinner, but the U.S. Marshall's eyes were wide with
surprise.

Skinner turned away from them and sighed.

"What's going on?" Mulder said conversationally.  

"I found Eddie," she nodded at Skinner.

Mulder considered her statement a moment, and then asked the U.S.
Marshall to wait outside.

***

Skinner wanted to slam the amused look off of Mulder's face.  He
had no doubt it was Mulder, who else could so infuriate him? 

Scully had cited several of the things Skinner had done that
confirmed he was really Eddie.  As she went on, he got more and
more depressed.  She used words like "smiled", "joked",
"understanding", "sympathetic"; but, her trump card was the neck
rub.    

"Well the evidence *is* damning," Mulder directed at Skinner,
amusement shining through.

Skinner was damned if he was going to defend himself for being
human.  My God, did they really see him as that cold?  If he showed
the least bit of compassion or friendship, it couldn't be him?

"What do you have to say about this, Sir?" Mulder asked, his voice
indicating that the "sir" was more than a little in question.

Skinner spared him a glance of pure ire, before turning his head
away from him. He tugged uselessly at the handcuffs at his back. 
He almost felt like copping to being Eddie Van Blundt to avoid
dealing with the fact of that neck rub.  What had he been thinking? 
Well, obviously, he had not been thinking; his lack of sleep and/or
a personal life causing him to let his guard down around a woman
he had always cared about.

When he got no answer, Mulder sat down, leaning back in the chair
with his arms crossed.  After a moment, Mulder suddenly declared,
"Well, the truth is, any one of the three of us could be Eddie, and
probably is. There are only two guards who haven't been eliminated
from the original contingent on duty when Eddie disappeared, and
both held positions far away from Eddie's cell."

Mulder reached out to finger Eddie's journal, looking thoughtful
all the while.  After several moments, he seemed to shake himself
out of his trance.  "We all had moments away from each other during
the last 18 hours.  I think the only solution is to ask each other
10 questions, reconfirm for each other none of the three of us is
Eddie Van Blundt."

Both Scully and Skinner looked up to him at that one. Skinner
snorted.  He suddenly turned to look at Mulder, "I'm not in the
mood for games."

Mulder shrugged, "It's up to you.  We can keep this here, in this
room, or we open up the situation to the team outside.  That would
make for some interesting consequences.  I for one would rather be
questioned by you two, rather than have an audience.  I was joking
about facing a round of questions from your ex-wife, but that is
probably what you'd be facing."

"Sharon died two years ago," Skinner interrupted in whisper.  He
turned his gaze to Mulder again, clearing his throat.  "So, you
see, you're not *qualified* to ask me 10 questions," this last
laced with anger.

Two faces, mouths shaped in "o"s greeted him.  Mulder recovered
first.  "From the car accident?" he asked, totally incredulous.

Skinner nodded, looking away once more with a deep sigh.  

"Mulder, I was probably wrong," Scully suddenly offered.  "I was
just on edge from this whole situation.  I'm paranoid because I was
the one Eddie fooled before. I'm sorry, Sir," she suddenly
addressed Skinner.  "Let's just start from scratch," she said as
got up from her chair and approached Skinner to undo his handcuffs.

"It's too late for that, Scully.  We have to rule each other out,"
Mulder interjected.

"Why, Mulder?" Scully turned to him irritated.  "I'm the one that
suspected him, and I don't anymore.  I was just tired. I don't know
what I was.  What are you trying to prove?"

"It's obvious the three of us have trust issues.  It's time we
addressed them, Eddie or no."

Both Scully and Skinner looked at him stunned.

"Fine," Skinner finally growled.  "Ask me the name of the
restaurant I met you at while you were fugitives from justice? or
the name of the man who translated the disk of files for you?"

"We get to decide which questions," Mulder interrupted.  "I believe
questions concerning X-Files are classified and inappropriate."

"Why?" Scully asked incredulous.  "The X-Files are the basis of
our relationship."

"That's the problem," Mulder answered.  Mulder sat back in his
chair again.  "I'll go first."  After a moment of consideration,
he turned to Skinner. "My question for you, Sir, is about your near
death experience in Vietnam."  

Skinner looked startled.  "How can that possibly help?  Scully
never knew about that."

"That's the point.  Maybe you should have told her."

"This is ridiculous.  I'll take my chances outside."

"What are you so afraid of?" Mulder asked, sitting forward in his
chair suddenly to address Skinner.  "When you were poisoned, I went
around tilting at windmills pleading with whatever contacts I had
for help," Mulder suddenly stood up and started pacing.  "I told
them I wasn't going to let my *friend* die.  But are you my friend? 
I didn't even know your wife died.  You are one of only two people
I trust in this world, and I barely know anything about you."  

When he turned back, he continued, "The truth is, I probably
couldn't come up with 10 personal questions for Scully either.  The
three of us should be able to ask 10 personal questions for each
other.  I don't know about you two, but I don't have anyone else
to ask."

Skinner said nothing at Mulder's admission.

"What's my favorite movie?" Mulder suddenly threw at them. 

They both looked startled for a moment, but Scully answered in
monotone, "Debbie Does Dallas." 

Skinner snorted at her answer, adding, "I concur."

Mulder rolled his eyes.  "Well, in the pornographic category. Okay. 
Very good. That gives me hope.  I believe the last question was
directed at you, Sir," Mulder added as he plunked down into a
chair.

"Mulder," Skinner sighed as he leaned his head against the wall,
rolling it absently against the hard surface. "I understand that
Van Blundt's journal has caused you to think about certain things. 
I don't blame you.  But it doesn't work this way," he said as he
rolled his head to a stop in Mulder's direction.  "You can't force
someone to bear their soul.  I have trusted you over the years,
don't ruin that by forcing me to play this game."

"I'll have to take my chances, Sir.  It's time to take a step,"
Mulder answered.
    
"Your *step* has a logical flaw," Skinner said as he lifted his
head from the wall to look at Mulder.  "If my smiling was out of
character, bearing my soul would certainly be."

"As you pointed out, we're forcing you," Mulder readily answered.

After a moment, Skinner addressed Scully.  "What do you think of
this?" he questioned with a sigh.

Scully dropped her hands from her hips.  "I don't know."  As she
moved toward a chair to sit down, she added miserably, "Maybe he
has a point."

Skinner's rested his head back against the wall again, closing his
eyes.  They all remained silent for several minutes.  Just when
Mulder was beginning to decide it was no use, they were too
stubborn, or private, or whatever, Skinner started speaking.  "We
were out on patrol..." 

***
7 a.m.

Scully was startled upon walking into the room; she hadn't expected
Skinner to be in it.  He was sitting at the head of the table,
sipping at a coffee.  She crossed over to her overcoat, grabbing
Mulder's as well.

"Per your orders, Sir, the U.S. Marshall has officially taken over. 
They're starting with your assumption that Van Blundt is no longer
in the building.  Do you need Mulder and I for anything else?"

Skinner shook his head.  "No.  Go home and get some sleep."

Scully nodded.  She spied a little bit of coffee left in the pot. 
"I'm probably going to regret this when I actually lie down to
close my eyes, but I think I'm going to grab a cup for the road." 
She looked to Skinner in question as to whether he wanted it.  When
he didn't react, she walked over to the coffee pot which was
situated immediately behind him.

"Are you leaving soon?"  she asked him as she laid down the coats
and grabbed a cup and the pot.

"I'm going to dictate my report first, so I can drop off the tape
with Kimberly before I head home."

Scully turned around and leaned against the table as she took a
sip of her coffee.  She stood staring at the back of Skinner's head
for a moment, lost in thought.

She put the cup down on the table, looking at him hesitantly,
before she slowly walked up to him.  When her hands fell to his
shoulders, she felt him almost jump and definitely stiffen in
reaction.  She gave him a moment to forcibly relax himself before
starting to knead his neck and shoulders.  Neither said a word.
Scully just stood there and kneaded, seeking out tension spots,
tenderly massaging.  Skinner closed his eyes.

After several minutes, Skinner slowly reached up to cover one of
her hands with his own.  She stopped in question, but he just
squeezed her hand and dropped his own away again.  She resumed her
ministrations, but this time a ghost of a smile crossed her lips. 

Their search for Eddie had been a complete failure.  The U.S.
Marshall who had been with Mulder the night before reported the
situation between she and AD Skinner. When Skinner got a call from
the Deputy Director at 1 a.m., they were in the middle of their 10
questions.  Nevertheless, the three of them felt confident vouching
for one another.  That's when Skinner informed the Director that
they should call off the search.  With his hands still cuffed
behind his back and Mulder holding his cellular phone up to his
ear, he explained to the Deputy Director that Eddie must have
managed to get out of the building.  Based on Skinner's eroding
relationship with the Warden, and the 'situation' that had occurred
between Skinner and his agents, the Deputy Director gave Skinner
an out to the assignment.  Skinner took it.

The transfer of responsibility for the search left none of the
three of them looking good, nor the F.B.I. for that matter; but,
somehow, Scully didn't care.  Truth be told, she hoped Eddie got
away.  She felt like she owed Eddie more than she could possibly
repay.  

Out load she said, "Godfather, huh?  What's with men and that
movie?"

Skinner smiled slightly, raising his brows as he relaxed further. 
"I think it's a genetic thing.  Casablanca *is* in my top 10...."

THE END.