Getting Behind the Wirerims
By D. Street


*********************************************************
Okay to forward to a.t.x.c. and okay to archive.

Spoiler warning: none
Rating:   NC-17
Classifications: S (Story), R (Romance) Skinner/Scully

Summary: The following is a romance story between Skinner and Scully,
wherein Skinner is tortured and Scully helps him recover.

     I would appreciate any comments or criticism. Thank you.  Please
e-mail to: 71022.1045@compuserve.com

     The characters and situations of the television program "The
X-Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox
Broadcasting and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without
permission. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will
be made.

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

Getting Behind the Wirerims
by D. Street


     Walter Skinner was in pain. He couldn't remember anymore why, or
how he'd come to be where he was, or even where he was... but the pain
was undeniable. It rolled through him in waves, submerging him in its
burning tongues of searing agony.  He didn't know how long he'd felt
the raw anguish but he had to escape... or end the torture. Somehow he
must escape or end his life.
     Skinner shifted on the cold cement floor where he lay, wrists
cuffed together with his own handcuffs, feet and chest bare. He
shivered in the damp air. A small part of his mind knew he needed a
doctor. He sighed, doctor... Scully's face floated before him, red
hair shining in the sun, green eyes laughing at him as they played in
a field of daisies and wild flowers. The warmth of the sun soaked his
skin, driving away the chill as he took Dana's hand in his, fingers
closing around hers, and pulled her through the waist-high flowers.
     His mind drifted further as the illusion of Dana, finally with
him as she'd been for so long in his dreams, became lifesaving in the
face of the cold torment that permeated his body.

*********

F.B.I. BUILDING - 1:00 AM
WEDNESDAY

     Special Agent Dana Scully got out of the elevator and walked
toward the office of Assistant Director Walter Skinner.
     Scully had stayed late writing up a report that was due first
thing in the morning so that her partner, Fox Mulder, could chase down
a lead on their new case. Scully had figured that if anything broke on
Mulder's case, she might not be able to get the file to Skinner in
time.
     Dana slowed as she neared the AD's office, surprised to see a
ribbon of light under the closed door. Surely he wasn't still working
at, she glanced at her watch, 1:00 in the morning on a Thursday? She
stopped at the door and tentatively knocked. When she got no answer,
Scully turned the knob and stuck her head inside.
     Skinner sat at his desk, head in his hands, a bottle of Scotch
and a half-empty water tumbler in front on him. Dana was shocked at
the utter despair that radiated from the man.
     "Sir?" Scully stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
     Skinner jumped, nearly dumping himself on the floor.
     "Scully."
     "Are you all right, sir?" The concern in her voice was evident as
she slowly advanced on her superior.
     "Yes, fine. I was... just... taking a break."
     "It's one o'clock in the morning, sir. Don't you think you should
go home?"
     His smile was laced with bitterness. "Why?"
     "Sir?" She cocked her head, wishing she could see behind the wall
Skinner had built between himself and the world.
     Skinner waved her question away. "Nothing, Scully. Forget I said
it."
     "Sir. Walter."
     The director looked up at her use of his first name. It was the
only time he remembered her using it and it sounded good.
     "The last few weeks have been stressful ones for you.  Perhaps--"
     Skinner smiled mirthlessly.
     "You think I need to see a shrink, Scully?"
     She stood silent, watching him.
     "I don't think a psychiatrist can do much for me."
     "Sometimes just talking about things helps." She pulled out one
of the chairs in front of his desk and sat down, laying the forgotten
report on the corner of his desk. "I'd be glad to listen."
     His features softened and for a moment Scully was afraid he was
going to break. Then it passed and he shook his head.
     "Thank you, Scully, but this is something I don't think you want
to hear."
     Her forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. What could he possibly tell
her that she hadn't already known? As she sat across from him, Scully
noticed how much younger... almost vulnerable, he looked without the
ever-present wire-rim glasses. They were laying beside his whiskey
glass.
     "In the last two months you've been threatened, sustained a
serious gunshot wound and then last week kicked repeatedly in the
stomach. It's not surprising that you may feel a bit out of control
right now--"
     "Out of control?" Skinner gave a strangled laugh and emptied the
glass. "That is the understatement of the year."
     Scully reached across the desk to lay a hand on his.  Skinner
started, but didn't pull away.
     "Let me help you."
     He closed his eyes, forcing his emotions back in check.  If she
ever suspected...
     "Please." Her fingers tightened on his. "Let me help."
     "I... can't, Scully. I'm sorry."
     Skinner ran a hand over his face and reached for his glasses,
pulling his hand out of hers. Carefully he put them on, effectively,
Dana thought, replacing the mask that he'd allowed to slip for just a
moment.
     "So, is this the Jenkins file?"
     She nodded, drawing her hand back.
     "Mulder's following up a lead on the new case."
     Skinner looked up, finally focusing on the discussion.
     "The train thing?"
     She nodded.
     "Call him off."
     "Why?"
     Skinner sighed. "I need more than a dream to authorize manpower
to chase down a train when we're not even sure it exists."
     "Agent Mulder is certain that it does." Scully found herself
defending her partner, despite the fact she'd told him the same thing
earlier that morning.
     "I'm sure he is. Nevertheless, until you dig up some proof, I'm
afraid I'll have to close the case." Skinner stood, giving his agent a
smile that didn't fool either of them.  "Thank you for bringing this
by. I'll see you and Agent Mulder for our 2:00."
     "Yes, sir." At the door she turned. "Sir."
     Skinner's brows rose inquiringly.
     "Don't forget what I said. I'm always available."
     He smiled slightly. "Thank you, Scully. I'll remember that."
     Dana left her superior's office, feeling as though there was
something terribly wrong, if only she could figure out what it was.
     The next day the X-Files team sat in their basement office,
Mulder going over train records for his now-defunct case, Scully
staring thoughtfully into space.
     "Mulder," she said finally, focusing on her partner.  "Have you
noticed anything strange about Skinner lately?"
     Mulder looked up. "Skinner? No, why?"
     Dana shook her head. "I don't know. Something...."
     "Is he okay?"
     Mulder put down his pencil and met her concerned gaze.  Despite
his annoyance at the man's unwillingness to trust his agent's hunches
on a case, Mulder'd found that over the last few months he'd actually
grown to like his superior. He'd discovered that no matter how it
seemed outwardly, Skinner's loyalty was planted firmly on their side.
     "I don't know. Last night... or rather early this morning, I
found him getting drunk in his office."
     "You're kidding?" Mulder gave a short laugh. "Skinner doesn't
strike me as somebody who'd drown his troubles in a bottle."
     "Well, he was. I mean, he wasn't drunk on his ass, but he
radiated this feeling of... of, gloom... defeat." Scully shivered. "It
frightened me. I think he's close to the edge, Mulder."
     Concerned now, the young agent leaned back in his chair, fingers
laced behind his head. "Maybe he'll talk to us."
     Dana shook her head. "I already tried that." Then she
brightened. "Maybe he'll talk to you."
     Mulder grinned. "You think it's a guy thing?"
     She shrugged. "It's *something*."
     "Well, after the meeting, I'll make an excuse to stay behind."
     "Thanks, Mulder."
     The young man studied his partner for a long moment.
     "Why the sudden concern for our illustrious leader?" he asked.
     Scully shrugged. "I'm not sure. I just felt so sorry for
him last night."
     Mulder looked at his watch.
     "Well, it's about time for our meeting. Shall we go?"
     The two agents made their way to Skinner's office, only to have
his assistant tell them the AD had gone home ill minutes before.
     "Ill?" Scully asked. "What's wrong?"
     The woman shrugged. "I don't know but he's looked just awful the
last few days."
     "Well, thanks," Mulder said, "Call when he wants to reschedule."
     "I will."


WALTER SKINNER'S APARTMENT BLDG.
11:00 PM - THURSDAY

     Mulder hesitated on the porch. What the hell was he doing here?
Skinner certainly didn't need his help to solve whatever was plaguing
him. And, Mulder reasoned, if he did, he'd call.  But something inside
told him that was an easy out. Skinner was the type who would work
through his problems alone or drive himself nuts trying. Scully's
description of their boss' mental state had him concerned enough that
he'd driven to the AD's apartment after work. Now he just had to
figure out what he was going to say. And knock on the damned door.

     Walter Skinner sprawled on his sofa, a half-empty bottle of
whisky in front of him, empty glass in his hand.
     He'd been in more or less the same position since he'd come home
at 2:00. He just hadn't been able to face seeing Scully again so soon
after she'd caught him brooding the night before. Since he hadn't been
able to think of a reason to postpone their meeting, he'd copped out
and told his assistant he was feeling ill. Actually, that wasn't far
from the truth.  His stomach was in knots and he fluctuated between
hot and cold sweats. He wished to God he did have the flu, but knew it
was just his conscious wrestling with his recent revelation.
     During the congressional hearings three weeks ago, when Mulder
had been AWOL, forcing Skinner and Scully to face the committee alone,
he'd began to realize that he felt more than a camaraderie respect for
Dana Scully. He'd pushed the feelings to the back of his
consciousness. And then Scully had gone to jail to protect Mulder's
whereabouts. Skinner still didn't know if she'd really known or
not. As he'd watched her struggle to prove her suspicions of
government conspiracy and gather evidence regarding the murder of a
noted scientist, Skinner had begun to fall in love with her. He
realized the feelings must have been forming long before that; he
wasn't the type to fall in love quickly, but in love he was.
     When he'd gone to see her in jail, it had been all he could do
not to gather her in his arms and hold her. She was frightened and he
could see it in her beautiful eyes. And he was afraid for her. When
he'd walked into the room the last day of the hearings to find that
Mulder had returned, he'd given him only the briefest glance, then
gone to speak with Scully. Anger had flamed in the AD and grown
steadily. When he'd joined Mulder at the table, Skinner had barely
nodded to the younger man. He'd known that if he started, he would
have ripped the agent apart for tearing off to parts unknown and
abandoning his partner. Not to mention leaving him with Krychek
handcuffed to his balcony. Although, Skinner granted, Mulder had come
through and gotten the rogue ex-agent out before the police had
searched his apartment.
     With a sigh he put the glass on the table and sank back against
the cushions. God he hated the night. Walter tried to remember the
last evening he'd spent with someone he cared about. He heaved a heavy
sigh. He couldn't even remember the last time he and Sharon had been
together... really together.  He conceded that the breakup was
primarily his fault, but that didn't lessen the fact that he was
leading an empty life and had been for... Walter decided not to
examine that too closely. He looked up as the door bell sounded,
annoyance creasing his brow.
     When the bell sounded again, Skinner heaved himself to his feet
and went to answer it.
     "Who is it?" He leaned against the door, suddenly weary.
     "Mulder."
     Skinner shook his head, eyes closing. Gently he knocked his head
against the door frame.
     "Sir?"
     "What do you want, Agent Mulder?" This was all he needed.  A
hangover... and Fox Mulder. Damn.
     "I'd like to come in, sir. If that's all right."
     Well, he couldn't leave him out in the hall. And knowing Mulder,
he wouldn't go away. Resigned, Skinner yanked the door open. He stared
at his agent for a long moment, then peered around the corner of the
doorway.
     "You didn't bring me Krychek again, did you?"
     Fox grinned. "No, sir."
     "Come on in." Walter gave an elaborate bow.
     The younger man smiled, ignoring his sarcasm. "Thank you."
     Skinner shut the door and watched Mulder wander into the living
room and drop into an armchair. He decided that knowing was marginally
better than wondering, and pushed off the wall to follow.
     "All right, Agent Mulder, why are you here at..." he glanced at
his watch, "eleven o'clock at night?"
     Mulder looked up at his boss, with a mild, innocent look.
     "Agent Scully is worried about your mental well-being.  She
thought perhaps I could help." He folded his hands in his
lap. Outwardly, Fox was relaxed and nonchalant. Inwardly, he watched
Skinner like a hawk, searching for anything that might give him some
insight into what was troubling the man.
     "Agent Sc--" Walter stopped. What the hell did she care if
something was affecting his mental health? "Mulder, what business is
it of yours if I'm having a bad day?" Calm, Walter, he cautioned
himself. Stay calm.
     Mulder leaned forward, elbows resting on his legs.
"Because we care."
     Skinner held his gaze, searching for the real reason his maverick
agent was invading his doom and gloom. What he saw there frightened
him a little. Mulder actually cared about him. When the hell had that
happened?
     "Sir?" Mulder rose and came to stand beside Skinner. "If you'd
like to talk to someone about whatever's bothering you, I'd be glad to
listen."
     Skinner stared at him. Then he laughed; laughed until his eyes
teared. God, if he only knew... Shaking his head, Skinner motioned to
the chair and returned to his seat on the couch.
     "Mulder, what's bothering me is my business. It is something that
I'm not proud of and it's something I can't discuss. Especially with
you."
     Fox blinked.
     "Sir. I assure you that I won't betray any confidence that you
might entrust me with. I'm trained in--"
     "I know." Skinner interrupted, pouring himself another
drink. "You're the next best thing to a shrink." He gestured with the
bottle of J & B. Mulder shook his head. "Mulder, what I'm trying to
tell you is that my particular problem is one that I can work out on
my own. And even if I can't, you and Agent Scully are two people I can
never tell it to." He cocked his head. "Do you understand?"
     "No, sir." Mulder's gaze didn't waver from the other man's.
     Skinner raised his glass in a toast and took a deep pull of the
whiskey. "Well, that's going to have to be good enough, because I'm
not going to talk to you about it."
     Mulder shifted tacts.
     "Sir... Walter... whatever it is, is obviously giving you
sleepless nights and driving you into that bottle of Scotch.  Don't
you think you should seek some professional help? If you don't feel
you can talk to me, then one of the Bureau therapists?"
     "I don't think so, Mulder." Was that hurt he saw in the dark
eyes? Did it mean so much that Skinner refused to talk to him. Did
Mulder feel some personal failure because he couldn't help? Skinner
decided that was doubtful. Mulder'd never had any great love for him
or his decisions regarding the X-Files.
     "How long do you think you can keep going like this?" Fox nodded
to the now-empty glass in Skinner's hand.
     Walter met the concerned gaze. "For as long as it takes."
     Mulder contemplated his companion for a long moment, then rose.
     "All right." He pulled one of his cards out of his wallet and
tossed it on the table. "I know you have the number, but just in
case."
     And he was gone.
     Skinner didn't bother getting up to lock the door.  Putting a
pillow behind his head, he switched off the table lamp and lay down on
the sofa. Not surprisingly, sleep eluded him. He snorted at the memory
of Mulder's pleas to spill his guts.
     "That's all I need," he decided. "I can see his face
now... 'Well, Agent Mulder, the problem is that I'm in love with your
partner. I'm sure you understand the situation, as I believe you have
the same feelings for Agent Scully. And, more importantly, I'd be
blind not to see that she returns them.' Yeah, that would have been
good for morale." He rolled onto his side, staring into the room's
darkness. When the hearing had ended, Scully had run... literally run
into Mulder's arms. They'd stood there in front of the world embracing
like two lovers. Lovers that Skinner was certain now they were. "Well,
that's about your speed, Walter. Too little, too late."
     Flopping onto his back, Skinner closed his eyes, willing sleep to
come.

CAFE
8:30 AM - FRIDAY

     "You went to his house?" Scully exclaimed over coffee the next
morning.
     Mulder had called and asked her to meet him at the cafe across
from the Hoover building for coffee. There he related his visit to
their boss' home and Skinner's reactions.
     "So, do you have any idea what's bothering him?"
     Mulder shook his head. "Whatever it is, it's got him good." He
glanced up at his partner. "And I think it has something to do with
us."
     "Us?" She scowled. "Do you think he's still mad about you running
off with Krychek--"
     Mulder shook his head. "No. If he was mad he'd have taken my head
off by now. He's never had a problem expressing himself before. And I
got the feeling that whatever this is, involves us both."
     Scully spread her hands. "Sooner or later he'll resolve it,
Mulder. He'll have to."
     "I hope so, Scully." But he wasn't so sure. He couldn't forget
the lost, lonely look in Skinner's eyes the night before. "I hope so."
     Dana was silent for a moment, then she spoke thoughtfully.
     "I wonder if I should try and talk to him again."
     Mulder shook his head. "I don't think so, Scully. Not yet,
anyway."

F.B.I. BUILDING
2:00 PM - FRIDAY

     Walter Skinner felt like shit. He had a hangover on two hours of
sleep, when his exhausted body had finally shut down shortly after
dawn. He pulled the wirerims off and rubbed his eyes. He was having
trouble focusing this morning. He stepped into the men's room and
closed himself in a stall. Numbly he leaned against the cool metal
door. He didn't need to be here.  *Let's face it, Walter. You're
wandering the building hoping you'll see her. Then what? Oh, by the
way Agent Scully, I'd like to sleep with you. I know you're sleeping
with your partner, but I don't mind sharing...* Skinner closed his
eyes.  It was useless.
     He was startled out of his thoughts as the door to the restroom
opened, emitting two agents who were obviously in the midst of a
discussion. Skinner cocked his head... yes...  Jenkins and Osborn. He
pursed his lips. Neither were on his favorite agents list.
     "I'm tellin' you, Joe," Osborn said with an air of authority.
Skinner heard duel zippers slide open.
     "The Ice Queen would be hot, if you could just get her goin'."
     The other man laughed as they went about their business.
     Skinner's head came up, body stiffening. He'd heard the nickname
before, of course, just as he had heard 'Spooky Mulder', but somehow
Dana Scully's nickname struck a cold cord in him this morning.
     "Frankly," Osborn was saying, "I think she's either frigid or a
lesbo. I mean, have you seen the look she walks around with most of
the time?"
     "Maybe she's screwing Spook." Jenkins zipped his pants up and
flushed the urinal. "That'd do it to anybody."
     "Naw," Osborn disagreed. "I still put my money on frig--"
     He stopped in mid-word, eyes widening as the stall door behind
him slammed open and the Assistant Director, to whom he directly
reported, stood filling the doorway, anger radiating from him like
steam off water.
     "Uh, sir... " Jenkins tried a hesitant smile, but knew they were
dead.
     Skinner held himself in check with great effort. Between lack of
sleep and the brass band that was thundering at his temples, Walter
could easily have thrown them both into the next county.
     "If I ever hear that disgusting... degrading name, or any such
names, used in reference to Agent Scully again... or Agent Mulder... I
will personally see you both transferred to Alaska."
     The look that he nailed the two agents with left neither in any
doubt that the AD would back up his threat.
     "Y-yes, sir." They stuttered in unison, quickly exiting the
bathroom, Osborn zipping his trousers as he went.
     Skinner glared at the closed door for a long moment, then turned
and went back to the toilet.  


WALTER SKINNER'S OFFICE
4:00 PM - FRIDAY

     "Is AD Skinner available?" Mulder stood beside Kimberly's desk.
     The AD's assistant sighed. "I wish I knew."
     Mulder's eyebrows rose. "I beg your pardon?"
     "I don't know where he's at, Agent Mulder." The young woman told
him. "He's been walking the halls all morning. He had me cancel his
meeting and he's not taking any calls."
     Concern settled on the young man's shoulders. Something had to be
done. "Would you let me know when he comes back?"  Mulder smiled at
her.
     "I'm here now, Agent Mulder. What can I do for you?"
     Mulder was struck by the weariness in his voice and his generally
haggard appearance.
     "I'd... like to speak with you privately for a few minutes if
that's possible, sir."
     Skinner considered refusing, but decided that Mulder probably
wouldn't go away. If it was about an X-File, the man deserved the
time. If it was personal, well, he might as well get it over with.
     "All right, I can give you a few minutes." He turned to his
assistant. "Kimberly, hold my calls."
     "Yes, sir."
     He motioned the younger man into his office and closed the
door. Walter forced himself to walk to his desk and sit down in the
leather chair. He swiveled toward Mulder, who still stood near the
door.
     "What's on your mind, Agent Mulder?" Walter forced his gaze to be
calm and normal. *Careful,* he cautioned himself.  *He's a
psychologist and he's sharp.* He cocked his head to one side. "Agent
Mulder?"
     Mulder took several steps until he stood in front of the large
desk.
     "Is this about a case?" Skinner prompted, anxious to get the
younger man out of his office so he could deal with things
alone. 'Always alone. You are a stubborn man, Walter.'
     "No sir. It's about you." Mulder waved a hand at Skinner.
"Begging your pardon, sir, but you look like hell. Whatever's
bothering you is obviously getting the best of you. You aren't
sleeping, I doubt you're eating and if I'm not mistaken you've got one
hell of a hangover this morning."
     Skinner closed his eyes, struggling to maintain control.  Slowly
he opened them, resisting the urge to remove his glasses and rub his
eyes.
     "I don't see that my problems are any of your business, Agent
Mulder," Walter said slowly and precisely.
     "You're mistaken, sir."
      Mulder sat down in one of the chairs in front of Skinner's
desk. The AD's heart dropped. He wanted the man out, not taking up
residence.
     "When something affects you to this degree, it can only make your
attention to our cases suffer."
     Skinner's temper flared. Mulder saw it in the dark eyes and
inwardly smiled. Good. He wanted a reaction... any reaction... other
than denial. But the older man pulled it back, inch by inch, until he
was under control again.
     "Do you have a specific complain about my 'attention' to your
work?" he inquired calmly.
     "No, sir. Not yet." He paused, then decided to go for the
throat. Skinner was so damned private, they'd be here all day.
"However, I have reason to believe that whatever is bothering you has
something to do with Agent Scully." There, he was right. Mulder saw
the flash of panic in Skinner's eyes. "And, since Scully is my
partner..." He let the sentence trail off, watching Skinner closely.
     Walter swallowed hard. "What... uh, what makes you think that
Agent Scully has anything to do with... with me?" he finished lamely.
     Mulder crossed his legs at the ankles, lounging back in the
chair.
     "Because of the 'incident' in the men's room this morning."
     Walter stiffened.
     "I hear that Osborn never had a chance to finish his business." A
smile pulled at the corner of Fox's mouth. Osborn had never been his
favorite person. "Damned near pissed his pants in the hallway."
     Mulder watched the brown eyes grow cold and hard. Bingo.
     "You're in love with her, aren't you?"
     He said it in a conversational tone, but left no room for denial.
     Skinner didn't move.
     "Believe me, I know the signs. I should have figured it out last
night. What could be relating to Scully and I that you couldn't
discuss with either of us?" Mulder smiled gently.  "You usually don't
have a problem expressing your feelings toward our work."
     Skinner shifted slightly in his chair. He felt the sweat spring
under his arms, running down his back in rivulets.  *Dammit!*
     "Sir, why does it disturb you that you have feelings for Scully?"
     He watched Skinner's eyes widen in surprise. He saw the laugh
coming before he heard it.
     "You're not serious, Mulder!" Walter snorted. "Aside from the
fact that I'm her direct superior? Well, let's see...."
     Mulder waited. He was pleased that Skinner wasn't going to waste
time denying the accusation.
     "... She has no feelings for me, that's a start." Skinner leaned
forward, arms resting on the desk. "And while I've turned a blind eye
to it because I don't believe it's harmful to either of your work, I
suspect strongly that she's already taken."
     Mulder held the gaze. So, that was it. Skinner thought he was
sleeping with Scully. Right.
     He cleared his throat. "Sir. At no time have Scully and I been
anything but the closest of friends." He leaned forward, still holding
the other man's eyes. "We are not now, nor have we ever been
lovers. What we have is unique and special... but it's not sexual. I
love Scully and I believe she loves me... but not in the same way that
you love her.  Together we make a whole... but it's far beyond the
kind of love that couples feel."
     Skinner sat back in his chair and pulled off his glasses.  What
the hell did that mean? He didn't know if he'd just been encouraged or
insulted. Walter was soaking, shirt plastered to his back,
perspiration beading on his upper lip.
     "That... that doesn't eliminate my first argument," he finally
managed.
     "Do you believe what I just told you?" Mulder's eyes still
searched his face.
     Skinner nodded, almost imperceptibly. "I have no reason not to."
     "Why is it you believe Scully feels nothing for you. Or couldn't
develop feelings for you?" Mulder questioned.
     Skinner rose with a jerk, turning his back on the agent, staring,
unseeing, out the window.
     "What makes you think that Scully couldn't love you?"  Mulder
persisted.
     Skinner spun to face him, cheeks flushed, eyes filled with a pain
that took Mulder aback.
     "Because she's... she's not the kind of woman that loves someone
like me, Mulder!" He knew how stupid it sounded, but was at a loss to
come up with something better. If only the headache would abate just a
little. Then he could think.
     Fox made an annoyed sound.
     "Forgive me, sir, but the last time I looked, you didn't carry
the plague and you have decent social graces..." He rose, moving a
step closer to the other man. "You're an attractive, intelligent man
with a good job and a future. Why the hell wouldn't a woman--"
     "We're not talking about 'a woman', Mulder," Skinner explained
quietly, as if to a child. "We're talking about Dana Scully. I
seriously doubt that I'm her type." He held up a hand to stay Mulder's
objections. "And even if I was, I don't think she'd risk her career
and her position as your partner for an affair with me."
     Fox studied him for a long moment, probing behind the chocolate
colored eyes to the man's soul. He was remarkably easy to read, once
you got the damned glasses off him, Mulder reflected.
     "Is that what you want with her?" he finally asked. "An affair?"
     Skinner blinked, confused. "What?"
     "A one night stand? Two ships passing in the night?"
     "No--" Walter objected, but Mulder pushed on.
     "You're right about that, Scully's not the type to have a fling
and then forget you. If that's what you're after, I suggest you go
back to the bar where you found that prostitute."
     Mulder stood his ground, despite the look that flickered across
the AD's face. It was gone in an instant, as Mulder had known it would
be. Skinner still felt guilt about bedding a hooker and the thought of
Scully falling into that category was undoubtedly abhorrent.
     "But if what you're feeling is love..." Fox continued, grinning
slightly, "As well as a little lust... then I suggest you talk to her
about it. I think you'd be surprised."
     Skinner was silent, watching him. Then, "Why?"
     "Because I know her. She's the one who came to me in the first
place, worried about you. She's the one who kept pushing when I told
her you'd work it out yourself."
     "She thought I killed that woman."
     Mulder shook his head, annoyance creeping into his voice.
     "No, dammit, she didn't! She thought you might have lost control
in your sleep and *accidentally* killed her. She never thought you
murdered her."
     Skinner drew a breath. "What else?"
     Mulder stopped. "What else, what?"
     "What else makes you think she might not be... might not object
to, to the feelings I have for her?"
     'God you're a mess,' Mulder thought. 'You've really got it bad.'
Aloud, he said, "Because she's always been the one to believe. Believe
you were on our side, that despite what circumstances looked like, you
weren't working for them. That you were really helping us."
     "I was." Skinner looked at him.
     "So we discovered." The younger man took a breath. "What I'm
saying is, something in your character got through to Scully before
the facts did. I'm not saying she shares your feelings... I don't know
if she does. What I am saying is that the only way you're going to
find out is to go to her and have a serious conversation. And even if
she doesn't..." He pushed on as Skinner cringed. "... she won't think
any less of you because you care."
     The man's voice was thick with emotion. "Care? It's a hell of a
lot more than caring, Mulder. *You* I care about."
     Mulder grinned. "Why, thank you, sir."
     "Shut up." Skinner replaced the wirerims, eyes fixed on the
agent, but seeing something else. Mulder was right, of course. Short
of transferring himself out of her direct supervision... which he was
afraid to do, lest the X-Files be assigned to Cancerman or worse... he
was going to have to face her or go insane.
     "Sir?"
     Skinner refocused. "What?"
     "I happen to know that Agent Scully will be at home alone this
evening."
     Walter was silent. Then he walked to his desk and flicked the
intercom.
     "Kimberly."
     'Yes, sir?'
     "I'm going out on personal business. Do I have anything pressing
the rest of the afternoon?"
     After a moment the assistant's voice came over the line again.
     "No, sir."
     "All right. Leave at your usual time."
     Skinner turned to look at Mulder, who stood by the door.
     "Thank you," he said simply.
     The agent nodded and left the office.
     Gathering his courage, Walter Skinner left the Hoover building
and drove toward Dana Scully's apartment.

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
9:00 PM - FRIDAY

     Scully looked up from her book when the phone rang. She marked
her place and rose to answer it.
     "Scully."
     There was a pause on the other end, then, "Scully? It's me. Are
you okay?"
     "Fine. Why?" She frowned. It wasn't like Mulder to check up on
her unless something was wrong.
     "Is Skinner there?"
     Now she was really mystified. "No. Why would he be here?"  She
sat down on a chair. "Mulder, is Skinner in trouble?"
     "I don't know. Maybe he just chickened out."
     "Chickened out? Out of what?"
     Mulder made a quick decision. "Scully, stay there, will ya? I'm
going to check something out and then I'll stop by."
     "But--"
     The line went dead. Scowling at the offending receiver, Scully
replaced it and went back to her book. The story, however, had lost
its appeal.  


FBI HEADQUARTERS - X-FILES OFFICE
10:30 PM - FRIDAY

     "All right, thank you." Mulder hung up the phone and crossed
another hospital off his list.
     He'd gone past Skinner's house, intending to prod the man into a
confrontation with Scully, and discovered that he wasn't home. And,
from the looks of the mail in his box, hadn't been. From the car he'd
called Frohike, giving in to the uneasy feeling that had been growing
in his gut since he'd talked to Scully. Now he sat in his office,
searching hospitals and police reports for some mention of the missing
AD. He picked up the phone on the first ring.
     "Mulder."
     "Frohike. Listen, found two things. Your boy's in trouble."
     "How so?" Mulder's attention focused on the voice.
     "Police found his car about half an hour ago. Forced off the road
with a window broken. Blood on the driver's seat."
     Mulder's fingers clenched around the receiver. "What else?"
     "It's at the Central Police impound if you want to take a look."
     "Yeah. There won't be anything, though."
     "Probably not," his friend agreed. "Also, scanned the e-mail for
his office and found an e-mail he supposedly sent his assistant
tonight. Says he's had a family emergency and will be out for a few
days."
     "Skinner doesn't have any family," Mulder spat.
     "Hey, I'm just telling you what I found out, pal."
     "I know. Sorry. Okay, Frohike. Thanks a lot."
     "No problem. Let me know if we can help."
     "Will do."
     Mulder hung up the phone and rose. Hurriedly he donned his suit
jacket and headed out of the building. He had to get to Scully so they
could figure this out before anything permanent happened to
Skinner. If it hadn't already.

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
MIDNIGHT - FRIDAY

     "Mulder, what the hell's going on?" Scully demanded when her
partner crossed the threshold of her apartment.
     "I don't know, Scully. Something's happened to Skinner."
     "How do you know that?" She closed the door and turned to follow
him.
     "After I talked to you I went by his apartment and he hadn't been
home--"
     "Why did you do that?"
     Mulder froze. In his haste to get the urgency of the situation
across to Scully, he'd given out more information than he'd
intended. It wasn't his place to declare Skinner's love for the
redhead... the man would have to do that himself.
     "Uh, because I was checking on something for him and needed to
see him about it."
     Scully cocked her head. "What?"
     "It doesn't have anything to do with this, Scully."
     "Mulder, how can you be sure?"
     "I just am, Scully. Trust me on this, okay?"
     She continued to look at him.
     "It was a personal matter," he finally said.
     Reluctantly she let it go. For now. Instead she went to the
kitchen and poured them each a mug of coffee.
     "So, what have you found out?"
     "Skinner's car was forced off the road and he's
disappeared. There was blood on the driver's seat."
     "My God, Mulder, who would--" She stopped, realizing the enormity
of the question. There were several people who would benefit if
Skinner was out of the way. She turned to her partner. "Do you think
Cancerman did this?"
     "I don't know. I'm on my way to check out the car."
     "I'll come with you." Her mug joined Mulder's on the table. "Are
there any other leads?"
     Fox shook his head. "But it wasn't spur of the moment.  Somebody
sent Kimberly Cooke e-mail, supposedly from Skinner, saying he was
going to be gone for awhile on personal business."
     "Could it be whatever you were checking--"
     "No." Mulder said shortly and headed for the door.
     Scully mulled the strangeness of both situations over as she
followed her partner out the door.

F.B.I. IMPOUND GARAGE
4:00 AM - SATURDAY

     Three hours later the agents had little more information than
they'd started with.
     From the condition of Skinner's Taurus and the location of the
bloodstains, they deduced that he'd rammed the car into a pillion and
probably gashed his head open on the windshield... seatbelt not
withstanding. Scully shuddered as she imagined the impact that must
have caused the belt to snap.
     "Mulder, he may not have lived through this." She hated to say
it, but the forced of the accident must have been extreme. She was
surprised at the sadness that permeated her at the thought he might be
dead.
     "Scully, look at this." Mulder shone a flashlight at the driver's
seat.
     Dana bent over his shoulder, peering into the car.
     "Somebody cut it?" She looked at him.
     "Let's say it was helped along," Mulder told her.
     "Do you think he's dead?" she asked softly. She wanted to believe
Skinner was alive. She wanted so badly to believe.  Scully pushed the
surprising strength of that thought to the back of her consciousness.
     "I don't think so, Scully. If he'd been killed in the crash, why
take his body? Why not just leave it in the car...  one more fatality
to DC traffic."
     Scully was surprised at how Mulder's words lifted her spirits.
     "Now what?" She looked to her partner.
     "I don't know, Scully. Let's go somewhere and think."

6:00 AM - SATURDAY
LOCATION UNKNOWN

     Walter Skinner was in pain. He couldn't remember anymore why, or
how he'd come to be where he was, or even where he was... but the pain
was undeniable. It rolled through him in waves, submerging him in its
burning tongues of searing agony.  He didn't know how long he'd felt
the raw anguish but he had to escape... or end the torture. Somehow he
must escape or end his life.
     Skinner shifted on the cold cement floor where he lay, wrists
cuffed together with his own handcuffs, feet and chest bare. He
shivered in the damp air. A small part of his mind knew he needed a
doctor. He sighed, doctor... Scully's face floated before him, red
hair shining in the sun, green eyes laughing at him as they played in
a field of daisies and wild flowers. The warmth of the sun soaked his
skin, driving away the chill as he took Dana's hand in his, fingers
closing around hers, and pulled her through the waist-high flowers.
     His mind drifted further as the illusion of Dana, finally with
him as she'd been for so long in his dreams, became lifesaving in the
face of the cold torment that permeated his body. The hours of steady
torture at the hands of a man who knew his job and enjoyed it had left
Skinner near delirious.  He'd given up asking what his captor
wanted... who he worked for. He'd long since stopped concentrating on
anything other than staying conscious and telling nothing. The man
hadn't asked much... only about the X-Files. What their current case
was... where the agents were investigating... hell, they didn't even
have a case, as far as he knew. And that was when it dawned on him,
and even in his half-conscious state, anger flared in him. Mulder had
done it again... he'd gone off without telling anybody... probably
without backup. He tried to focus his thoughts. Maybe just this once
he'd forgive Mulder. If he didn't know where the man was, he couldn't
tell anybody.
     Almost as if in the distance, Skinner heard the cell door clang
open and then shut. A large hand grabbed the cuffs and yanked him to
his knees. A groan of pain escaped parched lips as Skinner lost his
balance and fell forward, slamming his cheek against the concrete.
     "Get up, you asshole!" his tormentor hissed, dragging him to the
straight-back chair. The man unlocked the manacles, fastening his
prisoner's arms behind him.
     Chin on his chest, eyes closed, Skinner heard the man speaking
but took little notice. He wished he could die, but knew that was a
long way off. His spirit rebelled against death, as did his body. And
this thug knew how to hurt without killing.
     "That smoking bastard tells me he doesn't care how I get
information out of you, as long as I do." The man's laugh ran a shiver
down the AD's spine, even in his condition. "So I mixed you up a nice
cocktail that I think'll get the desired results. You'll tell me what
those nosy agents of yours are up to in no time flat."
     Somewhere deep inside Skinner puzzled. Drink? They wanted him to
drink something? They hadn't given him food or water in the time he'd
been here... what the hell was this? His jaw clenched. He'd never tell
them anything about Scully and Mulder. He had to protect
them... protect her from them. What was this guy planning?
     His answer came in a none too gentle jab to his arm as the man
injected drugs into his system. So he hadn't wanted him to drink
anything after all. He was being shot full of whatever truth serum
this idiot was trying.
     "All right, you sonofabith," Walter's tormentor sneered, "We'll
give that a minute to work and then I'll be back."
     The door clanged again and then the room was silent.
     Skinner lifted his head to look at the bars... the solid coldness
of them made him shiver in the already chilly air. He shook his head,
trying to clear the cotton wool from his brain. He had to find a way
out... He stared at the bars, fascinated as they began to bend and
reshape themselves, gradually melting into jungle vegetation, as did
the cell around him.
     *"My God! I'm in Nam."*
     Skinner looked around him at the familiar surroundings.  He was
captive in a Viet Cong camp!

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
EARLY MORNING - SATURDAY

     "I don't know, Scully." Mulder shook his head,
frustrated. "Everything leads to a dead end. We'd have done better to
chase after the train--"
     "Don't start, Mulder," Scully warned. "We are NOT chasing after a
train because you dreamed about it."
     "Scully," he sat forward, trying to make her see his
argument. "The last time I dreamed something several nights in a row
and as vividly as this, we found two more of Roche's victims."
     She sighed. "I know, Mulder. And if it weren't for Skinner being
missing, I'd even say let's give it a shot.  But--"
     "But what if this has something to do with Skinner's
disappearance?" Mulder persisted. "We're not getting anywhere with the
evidence. Nobody saw the accident, there's no trace of where he was
taken... I was probably the last person to see him and he was headed
over here."
     "What about that?" Scully interrupted. "Why was he coming to see
me?"
     Mulder sucked in a breath. "I can't tell you Scully."
     She frowned. "Why not?"
     "Because it's not my place to tell you. He had something
important to discuss with you... that's all I can tell you."
     She studied her partner for a long moment, then turned away, a
thoughtful look on her face.  


11:00 AM - SATURDAY
LOCATION UNKNOWN

     His head snapped back as the Vietnamese soldier entered the room,
stopping in front of him, a grin on the hated face.
     "This is it, pal." The man reached out, gripping Walter's chin in
a painful grip, tilting his head to the light.
     When the first injection hadn't produced the desired result, he'd
tried another, stronger mixture.
     "Yeah, you're ready."
     The soldier squatted in front of him, staring into Skinner's
eyes.
     "All right, now you're going to tell me everything I want to
know," he told his captive. "Starting with where Agents Mulder and
Scully are and what they're investigating."
     Skinner dropped his head again, chin resting on his chest,
shoulders slumped.
     "Look! I don't much care if I get the information outta you or
not. My orders are to find out what I can and then make sure nobody
ever finds you. You wanna play dumb, it's okay with me."
     The man slapped his face, but Skinner remained limp, eyes closed.
     "Shit!" The man swore, digging a keyring out of his
pocket. "Musta given him too much. The wimp." He glared at his
prisoner. "I'll knock it outta you."
     As he unlocked the handcuffs, Skinner sprang to his feet with
surprising swiftness and threw a punch that connected with his
captor's chin, knocking him out cold.
     Rolling the man onto his back, Skinner stripped off his shirt and
shoes, donning them himself. His head was beginning to clear and he
glanced around the tiny prison, the present slowly sifting back to
him. He went through his captor's pockets, taking the keys. He
stumbled out of the tiny cell, slamming the door shut behind him.
     Once outside, Skinner examined the keys in his hand.
     *A van key, from the look of this one,* he decided, glancing over
at the array of vehicles parked on the deserted street. A blue Dodge
van sat in the driveway. Moving as quickly as he could, Skinner
crossed to the van and tried the key; it fit. Fighting off a wave of
dizziness, he climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. Driving
carefully, the AD backed out of the drive and onto the street. He
drove slowly, not wanting to attract attention, until he got out of
the neighborhood. Once away, he stepped up his speed until he was on
the open highway. He rolled down the window, cool air helping to clear
his head a little. Still the images of Vietnam and the fear of capture
intruded on him and he warred with conflicting realities.
     He had to get to his agents... He had to warn them that they were
in danger. They were all in danger.
     What had happened? Who was the man that had held him prisoner and
how had he come to be there? Skinner shook his head, desperately
trying to erase the jungle scenario that he'd just left. Images of the
sultry war zone flickered just beyond his eyes, threatening reality.
     "That's not real," he said aloud, eyes on the road. "'Nam is
over... this is Washington. You're an assistant director at the
FBI..." FBI... that meant something. Something to do with his
capture... something important. A kaleidoscope of memories flashed
through his mind; his car forced off the road, the frantic struggle to
control it, pain in his head, and....  nothing. The images wouldn't
cohere. There was somewhere he had to go. Someone he had to help...
     The images danced just out of his grasp and Skinner slammed the
wheel in frustration. Maybe if he could rest for a little while he'd
remember. The images still floated in his mind, reality barely keeping
a toehold on his consciousness.  And the dizziness was back. He could
barely see the road ahead of him.
     Skinner pulled the van off the road and down an incline to a
secluded pull-off a few feet away. Running on automatic now, Skinner
turned off the engine and doused the lights. He climbed into the back
of the van and lay down on the cold cushion. Within minutes he was
asleep.


DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
6:00 PM - SATURDAY

     "Mulder, I don't think this is panning out to be a clue after
all."
     Her partner lounged on the sofa. "You don't know that, Scully,"
he reasoned. "There's still the train. We haven't tried that avenue
yet."
     "And we're not going to," she told him, hands on hips.  "Mulder,
there's nothing to indicate that there's any connection between your
dream and reality." She paused. "For all we know, he really did have
an emergency."
     Mulder shot her a look.
     "Okay, so I don't believe it. Still, why go chasing across the
country when--"
     Her argument was cut short as they heard a thump on the door. It
wasn't even a knock, but more like someone falling against the door.
     Exchanging a glance with his partner, Mulder slid off the couch,
grabbing his gun off the coffee table. Scully, likewise, drew her
weapon. Together they advanced on the door.  Mulder reached out and
grasped the knob, then turned it sharply, yanking the door open.
     Neither agent was prepared for Assistant Director Walter Skinner
to fall unconscious at their feet.
     "Skinner!" Mulder dropped to his knees beside the injured
man. Scully joined him, immediately feeling for a pulse.
     "He's alive. Help me get him on the couch," she said,
reholstering her gun. Mulder did likewise and gripped the AD's
shoulders. Together they got him on sofa where Scully immediately
began to unbutton his shirt.
     "Mulder, get my bag from beside my bed."
     He leapt to do so, quickly rejoining her. He stood beside her,
gazing down at Skinner. One side of his face was covered with dried
blood, apparently from a small cut at the base of his skull. 'Probably
from the accident,' Mulder thought.
     "Thanks." Scully took the bag from him and opened it.
     "You think he's been wandering around in that condition?"  Mulder
asked, cringing as she gently cleaned Skinner's face.
     "No. I don't think he'd be capable of much walking," Scully said,
absently.
     "That doesn't look like it fits him." Mulder commented as Scully
pulled away the soiled flannel shirt. It was a size too small and one
of the buttons had popped.
     "My God..." he breathed, gazing at the wounds that covered
Skinner's chest.
     "What the hell happened to him, Mulder?"
     "I don't know." His voice was tight with anger. "But I'm sure as
hell going to find out."
     As Scully probed his wounds, the AD began to thrash on the couch
and Mulder leaned over him, putting his weight on the AD's arms.
     "No... no..." Skinner fought with the slighter man, pulling one
arm free, only to have Mulder imprison it again.
     "Wait, Mulder, I think you're making it worse." Scully studied
their friend, watching the expressions that washed across his face.
     "Scully, he'll hurt himself or one of us--"
     "No, I think he's hallucinating, Mulder." Suddenly he went limp
under Mulder's grip. Scully's lips formed a grim line. "Sit him up, I
want to take this shirt off."
     Mulder held Skinner while Scully pulled off the flannel shirt,
then the agents eased him back down. Scully laid out his right arm,
fingertips smoothing over the tender skin at his elbow. It was clean.
     "Mulder--"
     But her partner was already checking Skinner's other arm.
     "Several marks," he confirmed, meeting her worried eyes.  "Drugs
of some kind."
     The agents sat back and took a good look at their superior. Both
were horrified at the purple bruising that covered his torso, marred
only by welts and several cuts that Scully was certain could only have
been made with a medical scalpel.
     "My God," Mulder breathed, feeling weak. "What the Hell
happened?" He raised his eyes to those of his partner.
     "I don't know," she admitted, reaching out to gently smooth a
bruise on Skinner's cheek. "I've got to check him out. He could have
serious internal damage."
     With quick efficiency, Scully began to examine her patient.
     "How did he make it here?" Mulder wondered, rising. 'More to the
point,' he thought, 'Why did he come here?'
     The sight of his friend's condition was too much for Mulder. He'd
seen a lot, but rarely anything that turned his stomach like this. He
crossed to stand by the window, absently glancing outside. Somehow it
had been easier wondering what had happened to the AD. Now that he'd
actually seen his condition, Mulder wanted to punch somebody into next
year.
     "He knew where we were." Scully told him, pulling his attention
back. "He knew to come here for help--"
     "Yeah. Maybe he wasn't as out of it as when he got here."

     He walked back to stand behind Scully. Her medical bag was open
and she was busily checking Skinner's vitals.
     "Basically I think he's okay," she finally confirmed, looking up
her partner. "Whoever did this to him knew their business." Her gaze
returned to Skinner. "I think he's got a cracked rib and probably a
concussion, but the main problem is going to be whatever they shot him
up with."
     "He was tortured, wasn't he?" Mulder spoke softly, eyes on
Skinner's face.
     She nodded, lip catching between her teeth. "Whoever did it,
almost killed him."
     Mulder looked at her sharply. "I thought you said he was okay
except for the drugs."
     Scully made a face. "I meant he's not going to die on us Mulder!"
She gestured to the unconscious form. "Look at him!  Every waking
moment must be excruciating pain for him. Not to mention whatever
effects the drugs are having on his mind."
     "Can you find out what they gave him?"
     "Maybe. I need to get a blood sample to the lab." She nodded to
their patient. "Help me turn him over."
     Mulder gently helped roll the AD onto his side. When he braced
against Skinner's back, the man jerked away from him, crying out in
his sleep.
     "What happened?" Scully asked sharply.
     "My God..." Mulder breathed. Carefully he eased Skinner onto his
stomach, exposing the raw skin on his back.
     With more than a little dread, the redhead scrutinized the
wounds.
     Skinner's back was a mass of angry red welts, some swollen,
others broken and oozing.
     "My God, Mulder, it's a miracle these aren't infected!"  Scully
reached into her bag and began cleaning the wounds. "I still need to
get a sample of his blood to the lab if we're going to find out what
they gave him."
     "I can do that," Mulder volunteered quickly.
     Scully peered up at him.
     "No vigilante stuff, Mulder. Not until we talk to him."
     "I'm not going to bust heads Scully, but I'd sure like to talk to
a few people. Especially a cigarette smoking--"
     "Mulder!" Scully rose to face him. "Don't do anything that's
going to endanger him." She pointed to their boss.  Mulder noticed
with interest the green flash in her eyes. "He obviously escaped from
person or persons unknown and by asking too many questions, you could
lead them right back here. It wouldn't be too hard to figure that one
of us was hiding him."
     "I'll be careful, Scully." Mulder assured her. "I'll drop the
blood off at the lab and then maybe go to his apartment to see if I
can find out anything." He quirked a smile. "Okay?"
     She relented. "Okay."
     Quickly she took the sample and handed it to her partner.

     "See if he's got car keys in his pocket." Mulder instructed. "I'm
going to check out the van that's parked downstairs. If he stole it
from whoever abducted him, we might get a lead."
     Scully searched his pants pocket, coming up with a single Dodge
key. She handed it to her partner.
     "When you get the results of the blood test, call," Scully told
him. "Depending on what you find out, I may want you to bring me
something to counteract it."
     Mulder nodded and squeezed her shoulder. "Take care of him,
Scully. I'll be back as soon as I can." He smiled. "Few hours, tops."
     Scully followed him to the door and bolted it behind him.  Then
she returned to where Skinner was beginning to toss in his sleep.

BOARD ROOM - F.B.I. BUILDING
MIDNIGHT - SATURDAY

     "You lost him?" The man lit another cigarette, an annoyed look on
his craggy face. "I can't trust you to do anything, can I?"
     "Look." The younger man's look was belligerent, as was his
voice. "I had him handcuffed to the chair. I shot him up and beat him
up." He made a disgusted sound. "Who knew he was gonna jump me--"
     "You should have known!" Cancerman shouted. "What do you think I
pay you for? Walter Skinner isn't an idiot! He's an ex-Marine and an
assistant director for the FBI! He's clever and must be dealt with!"
     "Look, that guy is a pain in the ass and he's hard to kill." The
hired muscle tossed a sheaf of bills on the desk.  "YOU deal with
him."
     "You come back here!" the smoking man rose to his feel, fingers
clenching the edge of his desk. "You don't walk out on me!"
     "You just think I don't!" The man shot back.
     He stared, incensed, at the closed door.


ACCIDENT SIGHT
2:00 AM - SUNDAY

     Fox Mulder moved carefully down the steep embankment where
Skinner's car had gone off the road. After dropping the blood sample
off at the Bureau lab, he'd gone to the AD's apartment. Finding
nothing, he'd decided to check the accident sight again... there might
be some hint of what had happened that they'd missed. He didn't really
expect to find anything here, but he had to start somewhere. It was
either this, he thought, or go and punch Cancerman in the face. While
that had an appealing feel to it, Scully would kill him. And she was
right. The fewer people who realized they knew about Skinner's
disappearance and his present location, the better.
     Mulder jumped as something brushed against his leg.
     "Meow!"
     "Jesus!" He swore down at the tiny kitten at his feet.  "Don't
you have a home?"
     The kitten rubbed against him again and Mulder reached down to
scratch it's ears.
     "You're a lucky little thing, aren't you?" The cat's eyes closed
in ecstasy as Mulder's fingers rubbed his neck. "How'd you get stuck
way out here?"
     The grey striped kitten sat on the agent's shoe, green eyes open
now, and imploring. With a heavy sigh, Mulder scooped him up and
tucked him in the crook of his arm.
     "Okay, I'll test run you past Scully, but you're gonna have to
help me search first, okay?"
     He took the steady purr to be a yes and bent to examine the
ground again.
     "You're an improvement over that stupid dog she had, anyway," he
muttered.
     The bushes and other foliage in the small area were broken and
uprooted, as if there'd been a struggle recently.
     "You must have put up quite a fight," he murmured, looking
around. However, nothing of interest presented itself.  Then Mulder
spied something shiny half-covered by a pile of leaves and moved to
pick it up.
     He sat back on his heels, gazing thoughtfully at the pair of
wirerim glasses in his palm. His fingers closed gently around them, in
tandem with the fist that clenched in his gut.  When had he begun to
feel so deeply about Skinner? When he was framed for murder? When he
reopened the X-Files, against the wishes of Cancerman and the
mysterious 'shadow organization'?  Or when he'd been shot trying to
find out who'd killed Scully's sister? Whenever it had happened,
Mulder realized that Skinner's capture and subsequent torture had him
as angry as he'd ever been, and he vowed to find out who was
responsible and why.
     An outraged meow startled him out of this thoughts.
     "Sorry." He loosened his grip.
     Swallowing hard, Mulder slipped the glasses into his inner coat
pocket and rose. He took one last glance around the area and, kitten
firmly in hand, walked up the hill to his car.

SCULLY'S APARTMENT
7:00 AM - SUNDAY

     Scully jerked awake from her doze as Skinner began to thrash on
the couch. She slid out of her chair to kneel beside him, hands on his
arm, voice soothing. She'd done what she could medically; cleaned his
wounds, bandaged the few lacerations, and then she'd fallen into a
fitful sleep in the armchair. She glanced at her watch. Scully spoke
softly, trying to calm his nightmare.
     "Sir... take it easy. You're dreaming."
     "No... burning... the fire, it's burning..."
     "No, you're not burning."
     "So hot... so hot." He tossed on the narrow sofa, one hand
gripping hers. "The jungle... they could be anywhere!"
     Dana sat on the sofa beside him, smoothing perspiration from his
forehead.
     "Walter... you're not burning. The heat you feel is.. is
the sun." She took a guess, based on what she knew of
Skinner's background. "You're not in Vietnam."
     "The sun...." He lay still for a moment. "The sun?"
     "Yes. We're on the beach... on vacation." Scully's mind
raced. How much of his hallucination needed to be rooted in reality?
Did he actually know who he was talking with? How much of a
distraction did she need to divert his demons?
     "That's the sun you feel, Walter." Scully told him. "Sun on the
beach."
     "Beach.." He smiled, fingers closing around her wrist.  "Dana..."
     So much for wondering if he knew her.
     She studied him more closely. He'd never used her first name. Not
to her face, anyway. She'd used his to get his attention, but the fact
that he called her by name in his dreams... Scully reached out to
smooth his cheek.
     "Just relax.... you're safe."
     "No... it's burning me--"
     "Here... you're just getting sunburned," Scully ad-libbed,
wishing her partner would return. "Let me put more lotion on
you... then the pain will stop."
     "Suntan lotion..." he murmured, frowning.
     When he didn't protest further, Scully grabbed the tube of
ointment she'd used on his wounds and began to reapply it.  It
certainly wouldn't hurt him and if it helped to steer him away from
the nightmare, it would be worth it.
     Skinner opened his eyes to gaze up at her. They were cloudy and
she wasn't sure whether he recognized her or not.
     He blinked several times, then ran a hand over his face.
The eyes that met hers now were clearer.
     "Dana..." Skinner smiled up at her, fingers tightening around
hers.
     Scully returned the smile, trying to put reassurance in her voice
and her touch.
     "It's all right." Her palm made light circles across his chest,
gently rubbing in the antibiotic creme. She touched the back of her
free hand to his forehead and found it only slightly feverish.
     "I'm so glad you came with me." His voice was thick and heavy. "I
was afraid you wouldn't want to."
     She stopped. What was he talking about?
     "I was so afraid... but Mulder said it would be all right." He
swallowed, eyes closing as he drifted off, into sleep.
     "Mulder?" She sat back on her heels. "What the hell is going on
around here?"
     Scully rose to pace the living room.
     "First Mulder calls to see if Skinner's here. Then he goes to his
apartment and knows he hasn't been home. Now Skinner says Mulder told
him it would be okay. WHAT would be okay?!" She exclaimed, arms waving
in the air.
     Scully jumped as her cell phone rang.
     "Scully."
     "It's me, Scully. I on my way to the lab to pick up your report."
     "Great. Did you find out anything?"
     "Not much. I went over the ravine where he was taken pretty
thoroughly and no clues."
     "Well, we didn't expect to find anything." Scully reminded him.
     "I'll be with you in about an hour. Depending on what the report
says, I may call you back."
     "Okay, Mulder. Be careful."
     "How's he doin'?"
     She glanced at Skinner who had begun to toss in his sleep again.
     "He was conscious... he doesn't remember much."
     "It'll come back to him. I'll see you, Scully."
     "Right."
     She sat the phone aside and contemplated her boss. The rise and
fall of his broad chest was comforting... at least his breathing was
unlabored. But his general condition sickened her and the nightmares
were disturbing. He was a descent, good man. This shouldn't have
happened.
     Hesitantly Scully reached out to take one of the large hands in
her own, dwarfing hers. His warmth was reassuring.  Scully watched him
shift on the narrow sofa, but her touch seemed to reassure him. She
studied him more closely. There were few injuries to mar the handsome
face and Scully was startled at her reactions. She'd never really
looked at Skinner before. He was their boss... ally and lately, their
friend. But as she gazed at the sleeping man, she found herself
feeling something else...
     Shaking herself soundly, Scully let go of Skinner's hand and
rose, walking to the window. She had no business thinking like
that. He was her superior and he was badly injured.  Behave yourself,
she thought firmly. Mulder would be back soon and they'd be able to
counteract the hallucinatory drugs in his system. She glanced over her
shoulder as Skinner began to move restlessly. She hoped it would be
longer before the AD's dreams took hold of him again. She jumped as
the cell phone rang again. She scooped it up, eyes on Skinner.
     "Scully."
     "Scully, it's me. I've got the lab results."
     "Okay, what did they give him?" She listened while Mulder read
the report, then told him where to go to get the needed antidote.
     "I'll be there as soon as I can." Mulder told her, hanging up. He
started his car and headed out, into the night traffic.

SCULLY'S APARTMENT
1:00 PM - SUNDAY

     Dana Scully lay with her upper body covering Skinner's.  He'd
woken again, this time shivering, shouting that he was wet and
freezing. That he had to get inside before he froze to death. Scully
had tried to convince him they'd been skiing...  that he'd fallen into
a snowdrift and taken a chill, but he still shivered uncontrollably.
     "Dammit! I wish I had that antidote!" she cursed, willing Mulder
to appear. "It's all right, Walter. We're inside now...  there's a
fire in the fireplace." She glanced around the hearthless living room
and shook her head. Aside from the fact that she was frightened by the
effects the drugs were having on him, it was taking all her
self-control to hold back and not respond to Skinner's closeness. She
was torn between trying to divert his nightmares and staying as far
away from his touch as possible. It would take little for her to
abandon common sense and kiss the man. These new emotions swirled
through her, surprising her and raising her panic.
     'He's delirious, Scully,' she admonished herself. 'You shouldn't
even thinking about--'
     "Dana..."
     She pulled back to find dark eyes smiling at her with recognition
but, she thought, not memory. Was it possible he knew who she was but
not where they were... or how they'd gotten here? It was even
possible, she supposed, that he was seeing someone else.
     "I'm so glad that you decided to come skiing with me." He
enfolded her in his arms, pulling her on top of him. "I
promise to make it worth while."
     "I-I'm sure you will... Walter." She gulped, her brain fighting
with her body, which was demanding to know what harm it would do to
indulge the man's fantasies. Despite her better judgement, she allowed
herself to be pulled on top of Skinner's muscular form.
     "I've wanted you for so long," he murmured, lips caressing her
jawline then moving to her neck. "I never thought you'd care about
me. I was afraid you and Mulder--"
     Further words were silenced as his lips covered hers.  Scully's
first reaction was to pull away, but the second, more powerful urge
was to let him ravish her. And it was obviously her he was intending
to ravish, not the illusion of some past lover.
     His lips were skillful and soft and they sent a wave of warmth
through her. His tongue forced itself between Scully's lips to explore
her mouth, leaving her breathless and panting.  Her fingers closed on
the blanket that covered him as she molded herself to his firm
body. Then a ray of sanity nudged her conscious.
     'Dana! What in the world are you doing?'
     "Scully!"

     She whipped her head around, despite Skinner's hold on her waist,
lips parted and wet, to find Mulder standing in the doorway, mouth
open, holding a kitten in one hand and a bag in the other.
     "Am I interrupting anything?" he managed.
     "Mulder! Help me up!" she snapped, struggling against the other
man's hold on her.
     "Fox."
     Mulder stared at Skinner as the man let go of Scully and pushed
himself up against the pillows. "We've been watching the Redskins
game... killer." He smiled companionably at the bewildered agent. "How
did you get up here with the roads closed?"
     "Uh...." Desperately he looked to Scully for guidance.  Suddenly
the scene he'd witnessed didn't seem so strange.
     "There's beer in the fridge," the AD continued, "Help yourself."
     "Uh... thanks." Mulder handed Scully the cat and sat down in the
armchair. He indicated a gym bag and set it on the floor near
Skinner. "I stopped by your place and got a change of clothes and
shoes." Fascinated, he watched Skinner's face, wondering what reality
the man was in and what... or who, he was seeing. Somehow he couldn't
see Skinner inviting him to spent the afternoon with him. The theory
was shattered as the AD spoke.
     "I'm glad you could come. I think we should get to know each
other better on a social level." He glanced at Mulder.  "Don't you?"
     Numbly, the agent nodded, then turned his eyes back to his
partner.
     Dana was staring at the kitten. She met Mulder's gaze and decided
not to ask. Not right now. Putting the kitten down, she scanned the
lab report and filled a syringe from one of the vials Mulder had
brought.
     "I'm going to give you an injection," she told Skinner.
"It's... it's..."
     "Vitamin C." Mulder supplied. "Good for colds."
     Walter nodded, watching as Scully bathed his arm with alcohol and
gave him the shot.
     "Can't be too careful," the AD agreed.
     "Why don't you lie down and..." Scully hesitated, "Finish
watching the game with Mulder?"
     Within minutes he was asleep and Scully breathed a silent sigh of
relief.
     As she put the antidote bottles in the refrigerator and began to
read the report more carefully, Mulder watched his partner. He was
struck by how drawn she looked. Her hands had been shaking when she'd
administered Skinner's injection and her cheeks were flushed. He
wondered what he'd missed.
     "Scully."
     "I don't want to hear it, Mulder."
     "I wasn't going to ask about that."
     She looked up, eyebrow raised in question.
     Mulder gestured to the cat who rubbed against her legs.
     "I found him at the site where Skinner was taken."
     Scully frowned at the stripped feline, then at her partner.
     "Do you think it's got something to do with Sinner's
disappearance?"
     "No." He grinned at her. "I think he's hungry."
     She rolled her eyes and went to the cupboard for a can of
tuna. She dished it out and put it down, along with a bowl of
water. The kitten immediately began to shovel down the food.
     "Why don't you get some sleep?" Mulder suggested. "You're going
to have to take care of Skinner tonight..." He let a grin pull the
corner of his mouth, "And he seems to be quite a handful. So to
speak."
     She shot him a look, then realized what he'd said.
     "Why? Where are you going?"
     "I'm not going anywhere," he told her. "I'm beat and I don't want
the late watch." He nodded to the sleeping man.  "Somebody should stay
awake with him, don't you think?"
     "Yeah." Scully nodded, eyes moving to Skinner's still form. "I
hope this drug works, Mulder. He's been having nightmares and
hallucinations."
     Mulder grinned. "Yeah, I saw the last one... It looked scary."
     "Oh, shut up!" she said sharply. "Did you find out anything about
the van?"
     "I sent the plates through... I had them e-mail me here."
     She nodded to her PC. "Help yourself."
     Mulder flipped it on and turned back to his partner.
     "I checked out the address where the van is registered but didn't
find anything. Whoever took him, must have worked him over somewhere
else."
     Dana nodded. "That figures." She yawned. "I'm going to take a
nap."
     "'Nite, Scully." He grinned at her departing back.
     Mulder reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the wirerims,
which he sat on the coffee table where their friend would find
them. Then he picked up the stack of train records and settled in for
his watch.

SCULLY'S APARTMENT
5:00 AM - MONDAY

     Skinner drifted slowly to consciousness. The closer he got, the
more he was tempted to turn around and go back to the blackness.
     Every fiber hurt... burned from his ill-treatment.  Memories
flickered through his mind, some he could dismiss out of hand... he
couldn't have been back in Viet Nam, that was a physical
impossibility. But some of the others were so clear... so real. He and
Dana Scully on the beach and the three of them, Mulder too, at a ski
cabin watching... watching what? Football, he thought. They were
vivid, real memories.
     He rose another layer toward the light. He knew he'd been
drugged... that was the only thing that explained the flashbacks to
Nam. He hadn't experienced those in years. But was that responsible
for the other memories, too?
     The memory of Dana's lips on his, her body beneath his hands, the
way she had responded to his touch... could that all be a drug-induced
fantasy? God knew he'd had a few waking dreams to that effect in the
last months.
     Walter opened his eyes, biting down on the pain that coursed
through him as his senses became aware of his body's condition.
     He remembered being run off the road... and fighting
with... someone. And the beatings... how long had he been a prisoner?
Beatings and cold, dampness. Time had become one long, torturous span,
ending in unconsciousness, only to be jerked awake to endure more
pain. He remembered a leather whip... and being manacled to a slimy
brick wall. He stopped, frustrated at the holes in his recollections.
     But the memories of Dana... those were so vivid and so complete.
     Gingerly he sat up on the sofa and looked around. It took him a
moment to realize where he was; Scully's apartment. Best leave that
for the present, he decided. He'd worry about how he'd gotten here
later.
     Walter spied his glasses on the coffee table and picked them up,
gratefully refocusing his world. He noticed a stack of railroad
timetables and schedule records laying on the table. He pulled them to
him and began to sort though them, wondering what, if anything, it had
to do with him.
     Half an hour later he sat back, groaning as his muscles
protested. God, he hurt everywhere! Every muscle, every part of his
body screamed at him not to move.
     He looked around the livingroom and realized he was alone. Would
they have left him? Perhaps both agents were out running down clues
about his assailants?
     Carefully he stood up, taking his time, and looked at himself. He
was bare chested and his feet had knit slippers stretched over
them. He smiled... probably Scully's. He eased them off his
feet. They'd be stretched beyond recognition. He spied his gym bag and
gingerly bent to retrieve it, then headed for the bathroom. With any
luck there was a change of clothes and a hot shower in his immediate
future.

     Scully woke with the feeling that she was being watched.
Tensing, she cracked her eyelids and peered at the figure that sat
beside her on her bed. She'd expected to see Mulder, but this man was
larger... broader. Scully resisted the urge to lick her lips. As she
lay there, eyes closed, Skinner reached out to brush a lock of hair
from her face. His fingers were warm and she had to stop herself from
taking his hand in hers.

     "Dana...." he murmured.
     She was struck by the desperate, tortured note in his voice. She
moved, as if in her sleep and he drew his hand away quickly. She
turned her face to him again and slowly opened her eyes.
     "Hi." She smiled and yawned. "Have I been asleep long?"
     "I don't know." Skinner smiled back. "I woke up an hour ago and I
just found you."
     "How are you feeling?" She studied his face, seeing the lines of
pain that were etched there.
     "I'm okay, just don't ask me to move too quickly."
     "I couldn't give you anything for the pain," Scully told him,
"until I was sure what they gave you. I've got painkillers in the
other room."
     Walter fingered his arm, thumb rubbing over the needle tracks.
     "Was it a hallucinatory drug?"
     She nodded. "Mixed with truth serum. Your healthy constitution
saved you... you should be dead."
     "Tell me," he agreed, moving gingerly on the bed.
     Scully noticed that he wore a blue polo shirt and twill
trousers. She also noticed how attractive he was in casual clothes.

     "Mulder brought you the clothes... he checked your apartment for
some clue as to what happened, but came up empty."
     "I'm not surprised. I never made it home that night." He
stopped. "How long have I been--"
     She glanced at her watch. "About two and a half."
     Scully looked up as the grey cat jumped lightly on the bed and
curled up beside her.
     "Where'd your friend come from?" Skinner reached out to stroke
the soft fur.
     "Mulder brought him home. He... was wandering around where you
were run off the road."
      "How did I get here?" Troubled eyes implored her. Scully wished
she could ease some of the confusion she saw there.
     "You drove here in a van... a blue van. Do you remember that?"
she prompted.
     Skinner tried to pull his jumbled thoughts into coherent memory
with limited success.
     "I remember... pain. Your apartment... I had to get to your
apartment.... something I heard. I had to warn you about
something... tell you something." A hand came up to rub at temples
that ached. "Something important... " He gave up, succumbing to the
throbbing in his head. "I don't know."
     "It's all right." Scully squeezed his arm. I'll come back. Mulder
was running down a lead on a train when you went missing."
     "Maybe what I heard has something to do with his lead."  Skinner
ventured.
     Scully frowned, sitting up on the bed. "Where is Mulder?"
     Walter handed over a note in the agent's fluid handwriting.
     "I found this on the table under my glasses."

          SCULLY, I FELL ASLEEP AND SAW THE TRAIN AGAIN...
          I'VE GOT TO CHECK IT OUT. TAKE CARE OF SKINNER...
          I'LL CALL YOU.
                    MULDER

     "Dammit!" She threw the paper down. "Why does he do this?"
     "What?" Skinner asked softly, eyes on her face.
     "Go chasing off after God knows what without telling me!"  She
snapped. "He's going to get himself killed!"
     "Maybe that's why he does it." Skinner suggested.
     "Why?" She frowned, not understanding.
     "Maybe he doesn't want you to get killed too."
     She swallowed, studying his face. The glasses were back and she
felt a pang of regret. She liked the openness of his face without
them. Deciding it was best to ignore that thought, she became clinical
once more.
     "You probably should go back and lay down," she suggested,
reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "Try and get some more sleep."
     "I think I'm slept out for the moment." He smiled at her, the
moonlight catching in his brown eyes, glinting off the wirerims.
     "Do you remember what happened? Who did... " She trailed off,
teeth catching at her lower lip. The memory of his injuries still made
her cringe.
     "No. I remember snatches but I'm not sure if I'm remembering what
really happened or some drug-induced dream."  'Like when I kissed
you... was that a dream, Scully, or did I really hold you in my arms
and kiss you?' Aloud, he said, "It's all rather hazy."
     She nodded. "We ran a blood sample and I gave you the
antidote..." Scully looked at her watch. "... about six hours ago."
She cocked her head to one side. "How are you feeling otherwise? Is
your head clear?"
     "Amazingly, yes," Walter admitted, 'Except for my memories of
you. Tell me it wasn't a dream?' He smiled at her.  "Thank you for
helping me. You and Agent Mulder."
     "Of course. Sir." She smiled, then slid off the bed. Her thoughts
were wandering to places she didn't dare go and it would be better if
they both weren't on the bed.
     "Do you have any idea where he's gone?" Skinner indicated the
note Mulder had left.
     "Maybe." She stood thinking, then headed for the bathroom. "He
was going over some train records--"
     "I saw them. He seemed to be centering on one train yard in
particular."
     "Let me get cleaned up and I'll go after him."
     "I'm going with you."
     She stuck her head around the corner, forehead furrowed with
concern.
     "Oh, I don't think you should come. You'll be safe here."  Her
expression was clinical again; Dr. Scully.
     "I'll be okay if I take it slow," he assured her. "My safety
isn't the concern here. It's Mulder's."
     She smiled slightly and went back into the bathroom. She closed
the door and leaned her head against its smooth surface.
     "Dana Katherine, you'd better tread carefully or you're going to
find yourself transferred back to Quantico."
     Stripping off her clothes, Scully took a cool shower and tried to
direct her mind to finding Mulder, rather than ravishing Walter
Skinner.

     It was three hours later that Scully and Skinner arrived at the
freight yard where Mulder had seen the mysterious train in his
dreams. Scully hid the car behind an abandoned freight office and they
started for the main part of the train yard.
     Hidden behind a rise of dirt and brush, they lay on their
stomachs, Scully scanning the area with binoculars, while Walter
unobtrusively watched his companion.
     'You should be thinking about Mulder,' he admonished
himself. 'Not about achieving the impossible dream.'
     As he studied her, memories of his hands and lips on her silky
skin bombarded his inner eye. He remembered once more the beach... the
ski lodge... those were vague memories that could have come from the
drugs. But the feelings, the kisses... they seemed so real. So clear.
     Beside him, Scully felt his intent gaze and looked across at him,
meeting his dark eyes. Her stomach tightened as lust wrenched through
her, almost making her drop the binoculars.  She saw a myriad of
emotions play across his mobile face, the last of which mirrored what
she felt sure was evident in her own eyes.
     "Walter--" she began.
     Swallowing hard, he reached out a hand to touch her as the train
whistle blew.
     "Dammit!" Scully swore, more from being startled than anything
else.
     She raised the binoculars to her eyes as the train pulled in to
the old yard, metal rattling across the ancient tracks.  It was a
minor miracle, she thought, that they still functioned.
     Two burly men jumped from the box car, dragging a semi-conscious
Mulder between them.
     "Let's go!" Skinner hissed, pushing himself up, off the ground,
gun drawn.
     The two ran across the dirt, toward the men.
     "Stop!" Skinner bellowed. "F.B.I."
     He tore after them, ignoring the pain that raced through his body
as he strained battered muscles.
     Mulder dropped limply to the ground as the two men drew their
guns and fired on the federal agents.
     Skinner fell to one knee, firing a round that hit one of the men
in the shoulder.
     "I said freeze!"
     Skinner was amazed at the rush of adrenaline that shot through
him as he and Scully battled with the hoods. It temporarily eased his
pain and exhilarated him. It was like being a field agent again, and
he remembered why he'd resisted promotion for so long. In that flash,
he realized how much he missed it.
     The train whistle blew again and the two men ran for the
platform, abandoning their captive in lieu of escape. Blood flowed
from the injured man's shoulder and his partner helped him scramble
aboard the moving train.
     "Let it go." Skinner told his companion as they ran to where
Mulder was groggily sitting up.
     The AD knelt beside Scully who was checking the younger man.
     "I think they've given him something..." She was saying.
"Mulder." She took hold of his shoulders and shook. "Do you know what
they gave you?"
     He grinned at her, then looked at Skinner.
     "Hi, Walt." Mulder hiccuped.
     "You don't think they gave him gin, do you?" Skinner grinned,
peering at the decidedly drunk-looking agent.
     "I wouldn't think so, sir." Scully shrugged. "It doesn't seem to
be adversely affecting him."
     They pulled the younger man to his feet and Skinner brushed dirt
of Mulder's shirt and jeans.
     "You look like hell, Mulder."
     Fox strained to focus on the AD, frowning with the effort.
     "You don't look too good yourself, sir." He smiled again.
"'Course, that didn't stop you and Scully from doing the wild thing
last night."
     He winced as Scully's fist connected with his arm.
     "Shut up, Mulder. You're not yourself."
     Together they herded him in the direction of the car.
     "It's the hair, isn't it, Scully?" Mulder gave an elaborate
sigh. "No matter how hard I try, some women are just in to skin."
     He leaned against the Taurus and faced Skinner, rubbing his palm
over the man's balding head.
     Skinner looked at Scully to find the same shocked expression on
her face. They both burst out laughing and Skinner opened the back
door.
     "Come on, pretty boy, time to sleep it off."
     He helped Mulder inside and then unlocked Scully's door.  By the
time he slid behind the wheel, Mulder was snoring in the back seat.

SCULLY'S APARTMENT 3:00 PM
     After they'd tucked Mulder into bed with instructions to sleep,
they went out to the living room. Skinner lowered himself into an
armchair slowly and Scully resisted the temptation to help him. As
soon as he was settled, the grey kitten ran across the room, meowing
it's displeasure at their long absence.
     "He's a cute little guy." Skinner leaned forward to scratch the
animal's ears.
     "Yeah. I guess I'll keep him." She regarded the tiny cat.  "I
don't think Mulder's ready for pet ownership." She looked at
Skinner. "He can't even keep his fish alive."
     "Does he have a name? The cat, mean."
     "I think I'll call him Lucky," Scully decided. "He seems to have
a charmed life."
     "Well," Skinner said, "I'm sure Lucky would rather sleep with you
than Mulder, anyway. I know I would."
     He paled as the implication of his words sunk it. Slowly he stood
up and slipped out of his coat, while Scully went into the kitchen to
feed the cat. Walter remembered why he had been driving to Scully's
that night and his confession to Mulder in his office earlier that
day. Sounds of an electric can opener came from the kitchen. Skinner
looked down at Lucky, who rubbed against his legs. He
frowned. "Scully, don't cats need a litter box?"
     All sounds stopped and Scully appeared in the doorway, holding a
can of pet food. "God, I wonder where he's been going." She gazed at
the kitten thoughtfully.
     Skinner looked at the can she held. "Scully, that's Mighty Dog."
He looked at her. "For dogs."
     She wrinkled her nose. "It's all I had. It was left from
Queequeg."
     "Oh."
     They stood in awkward silence for a long moment, then Skinner met
her eyes and saw something there that he hardly dared believe.
     "What did Mulder mean back there?" he asked quietly.  "About you
and I doing 'the wild thing'?"
     Dana blushed. "Uh... well, you were having a dream...  from the
drugs." She chewed her lip. "And when Mulder walked in, it looked like
we were, were..."
     He held up a hand, nodding. "I get the picture." His smile was
sheepish. "Sorry."
     "That's okay. That night... I was on my way over here," Walter
began, moving to the other side of the room, his back to her. "I was
going to talk to you about.... something I'd discussed with Mulder."
     She followed him hesitantly, knowing somehow that what was to
come now would change their lives, probably forever.
     Skinner smiled, his back still to her. "Mulder told me that I had
to get some backbone and tell you what was bothering me." He glanced
over his shoulder. "He said that you were worried."
     Scully nodded. "I was. I still am. But I've never considered you
lacking in backbone."
     He turned to face her. "Oh, but I am. Emotionally I'm a spineless
jellyfish. I always have been. I've always been too afraid of hurting
and being hurt to open myself up to anyone."  He looked at the
floor. "I... I guess I've never loved anybody enough to risk it. And
to put them at risk by caring about me."
     Scully froze, hypnotized by his confession. Was it possible that
he felt the same about her? That the awakening feelings she'd been
experiencing were mirrored in his heart?


     "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've fallen in love with
you, Dana." Skinner swallowed, licking dry lips. "I don't know when it
happened, exactly, but it did."
     Scully stood, staring, at her superior. Whatever she had
expected... hoped... to hear him say, his words were clearer and more
dramatic than anything she'd imagined. How did she feel about him? He
was attractive and she certainly was fond... no, more than fond of
him. But, love?
     "I know this probably isn't something you want to hear right
now," Skinner went on, rubbing the back of his neck with a palm. "But
I had to tell you. I couldn't let things go on as if I didn't care for
you any more than... as if you were just another agent--" He broke
off, looking away.
     Dana moved across the room to stand beside him.  Tentatively she
laid a hand on his arm.
     "Neither of us think that." She said softly. "Mulder and I know
you that you care about us and about the X-Files.  You've proven that
more than once."
     Walter looked at her, hesitantly reaching out to touch the hair
that framed her face.
     "I love you, Dana. It's not my job and it's not what I feel for
Mulder or the X-Files. I... love.... *you*."
     Dana leaned into his hand until he caressed her cheek.  She
turned her head to kiss the palm, turning her eyes to meet his.
     Skinner tilted her chin, leaning closer. Scully could feel his
breath on her face and it made her heart race. Her head was pounding,
but not with pain. Her entire being was focused on the kiss she knew
he would give and what it would feel like. And what would follow. Dana
knew it would be up to her how far she let him go. He'd abide by her
decision. She was rapidly losing the desire to stop him. Perhaps it
*was* something more than friendship that she felt.
     He cupped her face between large hands, fingers caressing below
her hairline, behind her ears, sparking sensations that shot through
her entire body.
     Walter dipped his head and took her lips, gently at first, then
more aggressively as she responded to him. His hands slid down to her
shoulders and around her waist, pulling her to him, molding her body
to his. He released Scully's lips to draw breath, then claimed them
once more, tongue plundering.... exploring.
     Dana moaned into his mouth, fingers clenching at his shirt,
slipping underneath to smooth across his sides and back, taunt as he
bent over her.
     "Walter..." Scully gasped, pulling back slightly.
     Skinner let her go, holding her loosely for balance. His eyes
searched hers, looking for rejection, expecting it, yet hoping,
against hope, that she wouldn't turn him away.
     "The couch," she finally managed, seeing the insecurity in his
eyes. It twisted her stomach. Who had done such a thing to him?
     "What?" Skinner's voice was harsh with passion.
     Scully licked full lips, already red from his mouth.  "Let's pull
it out... it makes into a bed." Her nails raked lightly down his bare
sides, hooking in the waistband of his slacks. "You'll get a kink in
your back, bending over like that."
     "Are you sure, Dana?" Skinner whispered, lightly kissing her
cheekbones; her forehead. "Be sure. I can't go back, once we start."
     Scully met his gaze, hands moving under his shirt to cup his
breasts, thumbs teasing the nipples until Skinner crushed her against
him, lips on her throat.
     "I'm sure, Walter. I think I care a lot more about you than I'd
let myself realize. And right now the only thing in the world I want
is for you to make love to me." She blew across his ear. "Unless you
mind Mulder waking up in the middle of the night and finding us."
     "I'll take my chances."
     With shaking hands Scully pulled out the sofabed, thanking God
that she'd put fresh sheets on it after her mother had stayed with her
the week before. Then she went back into Walter's arms.
     She covered a nipple with her mouth, teeth nipping at it, her
tongue laving until she heard a moan from deep in his throat.
     Expelling hot breath against her neck, Skinner bent and picked
her up, effortlessly carrying her across the room.  Gently he laid her
on the bed, straddling her on his knees, eyes locked with hers.
     The tip of Scully's tongue slipped between her lips, wetting
them, and Walter felt his groin clench at the erotic sight. God, he'd
be lucky if he got his pants off before he came. He'd wanted her for
too long... he had to get himself under control.
     Scully reached up to him, fingertips brushing against his chest.
     "Please Walter, make love to me."
     He slid her up, so her head rested on a pillow, then unbuttoned
her blouse. Slowly, sensuously he undid the buttons until he could
fold it back, revealing small, firm breasts. He lowered himself until
he as sitting on her hips and leaned forward. He covered a nipple with
his mouth, tongue teasing it erect, lips sucking. One hand caressed
the breast while the other hand moved to unzip her jeans.
     Scully moved, arching against him, aching for his touch.
     Skinner slid his hand inside her jeans and touched her through
damp panties. Scully jumped against him, crying out as her arms went
around his neck, forcing his mouth up to hers.
     Walter moved off her to lie on his side, hand open against her
stomach. He slipped his other hand under her, rolling her against him,
fingers tangling in her silky hair.
     Scully tore at the polo shirt, pulling it over his head, taking
the glasses with it.
     "I'm sorry--" She reached for them, but he stopped her.
     "It doesn't matter."
     Dana turned back to his body and froze. In the heat of their
passion, she'd forgotten about his injuries. Time and medicated
ointment had helped, but angry bruises and red marks still marred the
broad chest.
     As if he'd read her thoughts, Walter tilted her face to him.
     "It's all right."
     "I don't want to hurt you," she whispered, lightly touching a
black and blue spot.
     "You won't." Skinner pushed Dana onto her back and leaned over
her, renewing his attack.
     He laved her throat, nipping at the tender skin as he moved
across her shoulder, between her breasts to bathe her stomach with his
tongue. Hooking his thumbs under her waistband, Skinner yanked on her
jeans, pushing them and her panties down, over her hips. He trembled
as he touched her, reverence in every motion. For so long he'd
fantasized about Dana... how it would be to make sweet, passionate
love to her... and now it was real. Leaning forward, his tongue
continued its erotic caress, moving between her thighs to taste her.
     Scully arched against him, crying out as she reached for him, but
he was too low.
     "Walter..." It was more of a moan than anything, and he smiled
against her flesh, tongue plunging deeper, tasting her sweetness.
     Dana panted, chest heaving as he set off all her passions. She
sat up and pulled him to her, until his body covered hers.
     "That's very unfair," she informed him, her mouth bathing his
face, unable to get enough of him, want pulsing through her.
     She pushed at him, rolling Skinner onto his back. He laughed at
her as she sat up, a predatory look in her green eyes.
     With studied slowness, Scully slipped her fingers under his
waistband, feeling his heat radiate into her palm. She unzipped the
trousers to give her hand more room, then leaned forward to kiss his
lips. Scully was hesitant to touch his chest... let Walter initiate
that for now. She smiled against his mouth. She'd have plenty of time
to show him what she could do in those areas.
     "What's so funny?" Skinner coaxed, running his fingers through
Dana's silky hair.
     "Nothing. Just thinking of... the future."
     He growled, deep in his throat. The sound aroused her even more.
     "I'm thinking about the present and if you don't do something
pretty soon, I'm going to take charge again, young lady."
     Dana grinned and moved to push off his shoes, dropping them to
the floor. His socks followed. Then she turned her efforts to removing
his trousers and underwear. Sensuously she pushed them down and off
him, sliding the length of his body as she did, finally shoving them
to the floor.
     Tenderly she caressed him, leaning forward to lave the stiffening
organ, inhaling the scent of him. Her strokes grew longer and firmer
as his erection grew until finally she heard the familiar growl.
     "Dana!" Walter sat up and grabbed her around the waist, pulling
her down on top of him. "I want you now!"
     She ground out, arching her neck as broad fingers dipped into an
ear. "Walter, please!" Everywhere he touched her burned and her body
fairly screamed for release.
     Afraid to wait much longer, lest he lose control himself, Skinner
rose and slowly lowered himself into her.
     Scully's mouth opened in a silent gasp as the fullness invaded
her, filling her.
     Walter felt her tense and stopped, clenching his jaw with the
effort.
     "All right?" he managed, looking down, into green eyes cloudy
with passion.
     Dana nodded, losing herself in the chocolate gaze so alive with
desire for her. For her!
     Skinner began to move, slowly at first, then faster as they built
a rhythm between them.
     Scully held on to him, riding with him as he took them higher and
then plunged them both out, into the universe where stars exploded in
her head, making her dizzy, and she held him tighter.
     With a last thrust, Skinner came, expelling his passion and his
love into the woman beneath him. His next coherent thought was one of
horror... he hadn't even thought to use some protection... but it had
been so sudden. So unexpected.  Letting it go for the moment, he lay
against Scully, listening to her breath whisper across his shoulder,
cooling the sheen of perspiration. A shiver went through him that had
nothing to do with the cold and Walter moved off her, gently brushing
copper-colored hair from her eyes.
     "Dana..." Walter found that his voice wasn't working properly. No
wonder, dear God! he'd never felt like this before. He tried again.
     "Dana, I'm sorry." Now that his head was clearing, his guilt over
their lack of precaution took an upper hand.
     Fear shot through Scully. Why was he sorry? She certainly
wasn't. Was he regretting what they'd done? Calmly she met his gaze.
     "Why? Because you're my boss?" She bit her lip to keep back the
tears that threatened.
     He realized what she was thinking and mentally kicked
himself. Dammit, Walter, you're really out of practice with women.
     "About not using any protection," he explained, reaching out to
caress her cheek. "I really hadn't expected to... I mean, I never
thought you'd..." He trailed off, anxiously searching her face for
some sign that she understood.
     Dana smiled, lighting his world. She moved so that her body
molded to his, laying half across his chest. She draped a leg across
his and tightened her hold.
     "I think we can be forgiven this once," she told him, kissing his
lips. "I don't think either of us realized what was going to happen."
     "Meow!"
     Both turned to look at Lucky, who vaulted onto the foot of the
bed.
     "Well, good thing he didn't show up a few minutes ago."  Skinner
commented.
     "Well..." Dana said with a shy smile, "He might have been here
and I, for one, never would have noticed."
     Walter gazed down at her again and felt a familiar wrenching in
his gut. How could he possibly hope to win such a beautiful, wonderful
woman? And one of his agents, too.
     Scully saw the pain in his eyes and cupped her hand around the
back of his neck, drawing him down for a kiss.
     "Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong." She told him firmly. "I
think our biggest worry is going to be how we're going to hide what's
happening, until we decide what to do about it."
     Skinner rolled onto his side and smiled at her, touching the tip
of her nose with a finger.
     "I think, we've already done it."
     Dana laughed and he delighted in the sound. That he'd caused
it. God, he thought, you have got it bad, Walt.
     "Maybe Mulder will have some ideas about how to break it to the
director." Scully shrugged. "Or we just won't tell anybody."
     "We have to eventually, Scully." Walter said, more serious
now. "Otherwise we're doomed to sneaking around for the rest of our
lives." He stopped. "That was presumptuous of me, wasn't it?"
     Dana smiled silkily, rolling on top of him, cheek nestling in the
curling hair. "I don't know... it's going to be very difficult for you
to get rid of me now." She raised her head to look at him, one eyebrow
arched. "I'm very tenacious, once I see something I want."
     "Oh really?" Skinner circled her waist with his hands and pushed
her up, to sit on his hips. "And have you seen something that you
want?"
     She leaned forward to lick at his nipples, urging first one, then
the other to attention.
     "Oh, yes..." she murmured, eyes filled with a sultry passion that
stirred in his groin. "I know exactly what I want." She paused, a
smile playing across her face. "It's funny, but Mulder said something
to me the other day... I think he must have had an idea that we were
attracted to each other."
     Walter snorted. "He sure as hell knew I was attracted to you. He
cornered me in my office one day and made me confess."  He
grinned. "I'd hate to be one of your poor x-files when he's got his
teeth in them."
     She laughed. "Yeah, he can be very... persuasive." She grew
serious and settled more comfortably on his legs. "All we can do is
pursue the relationship and see where it takes us.  If we get in
trouble from the Bureau... we deal with it when it comes."
     Skinner reached up to trace a finger along her jaw.
     "All right. I'm willing, if you are. God knows I'll be lost
without you now."
     Dana stretched out along the length of him, spreading his legs
with her feet and nestling her groin against his.
     "Mulder won't be good for much until morning," Scully murmured,
rubbing her chin against his abdomen. "So what if we forget about
business until he wakes up?"
     "You think he's all right?" Skinner asked, concern nudging its
way in. "We still don't know what they gave him."
     "He'll be okay." Scully grinned. "Until he comes out for
breakfast."
     Skinner laughed and hugged her to him, not caring that his body
protested at the contact. The wounds he'd endured at the hands of his
captor meant nothing compared to what he held in his arms now. Nothing
was as important to him.


The End!