Title: Karma Interlude: There's Always Calm After the Storm
Author: Amatia
Concept By: Ladyhawk
Email: violinst@pitnet.net
Rating: NC-17
Category: R,A, slash (M/Sk)
Archiving: Gossamer. All others, ask Ladyhawk first. :-)
Author's note: This is for Ladyhawk, without whom I could never have gotten
all the way through this. Thanks for all those late nights on IRC helping
me to get Mulder and Skinner into that bedroom. (And listening to my
problems) You made writing this a joy, and I owe you a million hugs for it.
:-)) Remember the bricks. :-))

***

"Karma Interlude: There's Always Calm After the Storm"
by Amatia
(story concept by Ladyhawk)

        The rich smell of spaghetti sauce greeted me as I opened the door
to the apartment. "Walter?" I called as I tugged my nylon jacket over my
head.

        "In the kitchen," he called back. I followed the sound of his
voice, and found him sprinkling garlic salt on buttered bread. "It's garlic
bread," he explained. "Celebration dinner."

        He grinned at me, his eyes twinkling, and I wrapped my arms around
him. Hoping it wasn't too forward, I said, "I hope there's more than garlic
bread."

        Another smile, wider than before. My heart jumped in response. "Why
don't you go shower, while I finish dinner?" he suggested. "It'll be a few
minutes."

        "Okay. Did the Director call?"

        Skinner nodded. "I'm now working for the Bureau on the consulting
basis, and that news hasn't been released to anyone except the Director,
you and Scully, and the one person who's handling my paycheck."

        "Which means you stay at home to work?" I asked.

        He shrugged. "He said I would be welcome at the building, with a
visitor's pass of course, and so long as you and I don't engage in any
public displays of affection. So I guess we can't have sex in the stairwell
anymore," he said woefully.

        I laughed, and hugged him harder, glad that things seemed to be
having some semblance of normalcy. "I'll be out of the shower in a few
minutes."

        "You better," he replied, his voice teasing. "You don't want your
food to get cold."

        I let go of him, and ambled down the hallway to the bathroom. The
shower was soon hot upon my back as I washed away the sweat from my run,
and the terrible feeling of dread I'd carried with me throughout it.

        The smell of the garlic bread mingled with the steam in the
bathroom as I shut off the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. I heard
the clink of dishes from the kitchen.

        Moments later, I was dressed in sweats, and entering the kitchen.
Skinner had a bottle of wine on the counter, uncorked. I kissed his cheek.
"Can I help?"

        "You can pour the wine. Other than that, I'm almost done."

        I poured the wine as he tossed the bread into a towel-lined basket.
"I would have just piled it on a plate," I said, observing.

        "Fox, your idea of gourmet food is Easy Mac," he chuckled, and put
the bread on the table. Despite his air of humor, he seemed a little
nervous. I knew I felt nervous. About what, I wasn't sure. These past few
weeks had been hell, between Diana's death and Skinner's subsequent
unemployment. Even though he had assured me that it wasn't my fault, I was
still upset with myself at having been his accuser.

        We sat down to plates of ravioli that he had found in the freezer.
I looked at him across the table. He froze with a forkful of pasta halfway
to his mouth. "What is it?"

        "I feel guilty," I confessed.

        Skinner set his fork down. "Why?"

        "Because I turned you in."

        Skinner sighed. "Fox," he began, "I love you. So let's not dwell on
the past, okay? I've got a job again, one where I can be with you, and
nothing else matters as much to me as being with you. It would have come
out sooner or later that I was the one who...don't blame yourself. Please."

        I stood up, unable to sit still any longer. "If it wasn't for me,
you would still be an Assistant Director."

        "One who would have to worry constantly about the papers finding
out that he was having a relationship with a male agent who worked in his
division," he replied gently.

        I looked at him as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms
over his broad chest. "I didn't think about it that way, Walter."

        A smile touched his lips. "Somehow I knew you hadn't. Now, sit
down, and finish eating."

        I sat back down, and picked up my fork, not entirely convinced, but
feeling more at ease. We ate in silence for awhile. After a few minutes, he
took a sip of his wine and looked at me across the table. "Have you been
going through what's left after Spender?"

        "He made good use of the paper shredder," I replied. "But it looks
like some things got filed, things that didn't have much to do with the
Syndicate. Nothing was investigated, except things they had to cover up."

        "Have anything lined up now that the X-File that wasn't an X-File
is over?"

        "The one where I crashed your car, you mean?" I couldn't help but
ask, cringing internally as I did. I liked to torture myself, that had to
be it.

        "Sometimes I think you like to feel guilty," he replied. "I didn't
mention the car because I didn't want you to immediately start sweating
over it.  I'm not upset about it. It wasn't a big accident, and the
insurance covers it. Now, do you have anything lined up to work on next?"

        "There's a report of murders occurring at MUFON meetings in
Janesville, Wisconsin, but it sounds suspicious," I replied.

        "Fox, you only investigate things that sound suspicious," he said,
grinning, and I found myself laughing as more of the tension ebbed away.

        I stood up, and started to clear the dishes. As I ran water into
the sink, Skinner brought over more dishes, and wrapped his arms around my
waist. I smiled at him over my shoulder as I squirted Palmolive into the
sink. "You really need a dishwasher," I informed him.

        "I have you," he said in reply, then laughed. His hands found mine
in the warm soapy water, and I leaned back to kiss him for a moment before
turning my attention back to the dishes.

        "Stop that," I scolded as he continued to slide his fingers through
mine. "If you want me to wash these, go wait in the living room."

        He pressed harder against me. "Leave the dishes," he murmured
against my neck. "Let's go watch TV."

        A shiver went through me as he slid his wet hands up underneath my
t-shirt. "Walter..."

        "It's been a week, Fox. You can't tell me you don't want it."

        I turned in his arms so that I was facing him. "I could tell you
that, but it wouldn't be true."

        His reply was to catch my lips with his in a warm deep kiss. Then
he dried our hands with the towel, and led me out into the living room. We
settled into a comfortable embrace, and I flipped on the basketball game.
He bit my neck lightly in protest. "I want to see the score," I explained,
tipping my head to give him better access.

        Skinner sighed against my shoulder. "Nobody but you," he muttered,
"wants to see the score of the game when they could be making out."

        I chuckled. "And you wouldn't put up with it from anybody but me."
Satisfied with the score, I shut off the television. I turned so that I
could catch his gaze. "You know, I'm nervous."

        "Whatever for?"

        "I don't know...I just am."

        He maneuvered us so that I was laying down on the couch, and he was
on his side next to me, leaning over. "You don't have any reason to be
nervous, or to fear me, Fox. I haven't changed my mind about how I feel
about you."

        I reached up and caressed the back of his head before pulling him
down. "I love you," I whispered against his lips before kissing him. His
mouth was hot and willing, and I arched up into his embrace, unable to
control my feelings despite my lingering nervousness.

        He responded by pulling me closer, our bodies fitting together like
puzzle pieces. "I know you're nervous," he whispered, punctuating his words
with soft kisses. "I won't push you."

        I slid my hands underneath his sweatshirt, molding my fingers to
his warm back, my voice failing me as I tried to tell him that it was all
right, that I wasn't afraid of him. But he understood without my saying a
word, and his kisses deepened.

        I tugged on his shirt, and he pulled it off, flinging it across the
room. "Yours too," he said huskily, his fingertips caressing my stomach as
he slid it up. I let him pull it off, then settled back against the couch,
the rough material warm against my back. I let my hands drift over his
chest, then pulled him back down.

        There were no words for awhile as we explored each other, our
kisses going from tender to almost punishing. When we finally stopped for
air, we were both panting. His hard cock pressed against mine. "Fox..."

        "Yeah?" I replied, kissing his collarbone.

        "You think maybe we should move to the bedroom?"

        I nodded against his neck, and he slid off of me. "I would carry
you," he murmured, "but you're a little too tall."

        I laughed, and followed him down the hall. The cover was turned
down on the bed. "Were you planning this?" I whispered against his neck as
his hands found the drawstring of my sweats.

        "You mean you didn't realize that already?" he chuckled as I kicked
away the confining material. "And you're the investigator. Tsk."

        My laughter turned into a gasp as he slid his hand inside my boxers
and wrapped his strong fingers around my cock. "Walter..."

        "Sssh." His grasp loosened, and the rough pads of his fingertips
rubbed against the head of my cock.

        I fumbled for the first button on his jeans, and managed to pop it
as he continued to tease me into an even higher state of arousal. I was
reaching for the second one, when he pulled away, and went down on his
knees, taking my boxers with him. I saw his intent a moment before he
grabbed my hips and swallowed my length. I groaned, pressing forward, my
hands dancing across the top of his head.

        After a few seconds all my mind could register was the hot wetness
of his mouth, and the fact that his warm hands on my hips kept me from
thrusting further into the heat. "Walter," I groaned. "Stop, or I'll..."

        He replied by running his tongue along the bottom of my cock, along
the vein that throbbed there. Then I forgot about words as he relaxed his
throat muscles and took my entire length into his mouth. Moans that I
couldn't recognize as my own issued from my throat as he worked to bring me
to the edge. Just as I felt a tightening in my muscles that signaled the
coming orgasm, he pulled back. I opened one eye, gazing, and made a sound
of protest.

        Skinner stripped off his jeans, and pulled me down onto the bed. I
ran my hand down his chest. "You are wicked."

        He grinned, and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. "I know I am.
You want it, or should I?"

        Before I could answer, he was spreading the lubricant over my
aching cock. The cool gel heated instantly in contact with my skin as I
watched the look of concentration on his face. "You know, this isn't
Jeopardy," I said. "How much concentration is involved in having sex?"

        "A lot, if you want to do it right," he replied, replacing the
bottle on the nightstand. He laid back against the pillows, looking up at
me. "I want to see you."

        I ran my hand down his rigid length, then used the precum that
beaded the tip to ease the passage of my finger into him. His lips parted
slightly, but no sound issued forth. I caught him in a kiss as I added a
second finger to the first, and felt him shudder against me, his hard cock
bumping against my stomach, leaving a wet trail.

        "Ready?" I whispered in his ear.

        Skinner nodded, and I slid almost agonizingly slowly into his heat.
He groaned, and lifted his hips to meet my thrust. I looked down at him.
"You okay?"

        "Yeah," he gasped. I dropped my head and kissed him. He moved
underneath me, and I began our familiar rocking movement almost
unconsciously. His body was hot and hard underneath mine, and I realized
how much I'd missed this in the past week. Not just the sex, but the
feeling of intimacy.

        I wrapped my hand around his cock, and started to pump. "Mulder..."
he moaned, and arched upward.

        "I love you," I whispered in his ear.

        "I love you, too," he replied. I felt the ring of his muscles
contract around me, and lights flickered around the edges of my field of
vision.

        "Wait," I groaned.

        "I don't want to wait," Skinner ground out, and clenched again. I
moaned, my hips and hands moving faster, faster, faster...the lights
flickered more and more, until all I could see was the light, and all I
could hear was him whispering my name...

        "Walter!" I cried, and collapsed on top of him, barely feeling the
wetness of his semen on my chest. "Oh, god..."

        Through my haze, I felt him wiggle out from underneath me. I
reached out for him, to keep him close. He chuckled in my ear. "I'm going
to get a washcloth, or we'll stick together."

        I grinned. "Okay. But don't forget to come back."

        His hand traced my cheek. "I won't."

        I stretched out on the bed, listening to the water run in the
bathroom, closing my eyes. I was in the middle of a yawn when he came back,
and dripped water on my face. I opened my eyes to see him smiling above me.
"Hey!"

        "Don't fall asleep just yet." He sat down on the edge of the bed,
and gently washed my stomach and chest, then kissed my chin. He tossed the
cloth on the floor, then spooned up against me. "I love you."

        "I know you do," I whispered back. "Thank you. For loving me."

        His breath was warm against my back. "Don't thank me...I couldn't
stop loving you if I tried."

        <end>

        ***

        I live for feedback! Please, send some! :-) violinst@pitnet.net

violinst@pitnet.net
Site X - http://personal.pitnet.net/london