TITLE: Weighing In - Part 4 (Parts 26-32)
(Part 26 of 32 parts)
NAME: frogdoggie
E-MAIL: frogdoggie@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: SRA
RATING: NC-17. M/SK. This story contains very explicit slash 
i.e. m/m sex. So, if you don't like that type of thing - STOP 
NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.
SUMMARY: Skinner and Mulder discuss Walter's weekend 
with Scully - amongst other pressing issues, and Fourth of July 
plans make matters even more interesting. The action here 
takes place immediately after "Lifting Weights" and "Weights 
and Measures". This story is part of the "Baton Rouge" series. 
Obviously you may want to read the series to understand this 
narrative. The "Baton Rouge" series can be found at: 
http://www.squidge.org/3wstop.
FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I 
HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy 
debate are always welcome. Flames? They only serve to warm 
my body and mind.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: Sixth Season before Two 
Fathers/One Son I think - in my timeline. So it would be safe to 
say any ep ever that appears before that two-parter would 
constitute a spoiler warning. It's also going to be obvious that 
I've changed the series timeline to fit into the Baton Rouge 
universe. I am trying to catch up with Season Six events now, 
however. We're rolling towards getting the X-Files back. Sort of. 
Oh - and still NO SR819 when that lamentable episode comes 
up! So, I've still kind of reinvented the mytharc for my AU as 
well. Sorry if all that bothers you - feel free to go elsewhere if it 
does. I won't mind.
KEYWORDS: story slash Skinner Mulder Scully NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Please see Part 1.
"I'm having a good time. Yeah. I feel pretty good," I reply.
He nods.
"I'm glad, babe. I was hoping you were."
I reach over and stroke his hand.
"The best part is being with you," I reply, smiling. I remove my 
hand from his and lean back myself.
"Dryden's ok, isn't he?" Walter comments, looking off over the 
creek.
Ah ha. Well here's my opportunity to put in that good word for 
JD. 
"He's a decent guy, Walter. The real deal I think. I don't believe 
it would be a bad thing at all if he's really interested 
in...uh...seeing your mother."
"I'm fine with it really. I get the idea the guy's about ready to 
make a move anyway," he surmises.
"Move? Like pop the question?" I ask.
"Yeah," Walter replies contemplatively.
"I think you're right," I agree.
We sit there in silence again just content in each other's 
company. The late afternoon sun reflects off the water. Cicadas 
whir and butterflies dance over one of the flower gardens that 
lie off to the side of the yard. There's a gentle breeze now and 
over the creek several seagulls use it to glide low over the 
water.
I turn to Walter.
"It's beautiful here," I whisper.
He nods turning towards me. He touches my cheek. His eyes 
rove over my face as if imprinting it forever in his memory. 
Then our eyes lock and he speaks.
"I love it here. I...I'm glad I could share it with you."
"So am I," I murmur, stilling his hand against my cheek.
He looks down for a moment and then back up.
"Mulder...I just want you to know again that no matter what 
happens...I don't want to lose this...lose you. I'll do everything I 
can to keep us together. To...to preserve what we have and 
what you have with Scully too. Everything in my power," he 
vows quietly.
"I know. So will I. I love you," I reply simply.
I move forward and kiss him gently on the lips. He pulls me 
close into his embrace and we deepen the kiss, our mouths 
eagerly exploring each other. For a brief moment there are no 
cares, worries or dangers at all and my heart swells with 
happiness.
Then we hear voices and Walter breaks the kiss, pulling back 
slowly and smiling into my face.
"We've got company," he comments.
I nod, smiling back. Esther and John Dryden are returning, 
walking together up the beach near the dock. I know they must 
have seen us at least breaking the kiss. They were within view 
of the bench. Well if there was any question about JD knowing 
that sealed things. Walter stands up and smoothes his fringe of 
hair, his tie and his jeans in one all-encompassing reflexive hand 
gesture. He stands tall and straight, proud and unselfconscious. 
I'm suddenly seeing my man in a different light. He's always 
been proud and strong but now he's imbued with more pride in 
himself. I feel good about that idea. I stand as well and watch as 
Esther and John walk up the slight incline towards us. JD is 
holding Esther's hand.
I glance at Walter.
"Mother, John," he greets them, nodding his head. "Did you 
have a nice walk?"
"It's a beautiful afternoon," Esther answers looking back for a 
moment over the creek. "It should be marvelous this evening 
for the fireworks," she adds looking from Walter to me.
"I'm looking forward to seeing them tonight," I comment.
"Reedsville puts on quite a show," John replies. "They have a 
barge anchored out in the bay especially for it."
We stand and stare at each other for a few uncomfortable 
seconds. Then John Dryden clears his throat and releases 
Esther's hand. Esther crosses her arms in front of her.
"Walter...Mulder...I just want you to know it doesn't change a 
damn thing. Nothing," he smiles tentatively and extends his 
hand to Walter.
"I appreciate that JD," Walter replies, smiling a little as he 
reaches for JD's hand. They shake vigorously. Esther smiles at 
them both and unclasps her arms, relaxing. John and Walter let 
go of each other's hands.
"Thanks, JD," I add as well, extending my hand. He shakes it 
and lets go of my hand then too.
Esther walks over and puts her arm around Walter's waist, 
giving him a squeeze.
"Should we go in and see if you can beat your nephews at 
Monopoly?" she asks, her voice a little gravelly with intense 
emotion.
"I think that would be advisable. After all, my honor is at stake 
here. They're close to winning and Roger Sr. will never let me 
live it down if they do," Walter answers, his voice a little gruff 
too. 
Esther trills laughter then, and all four of us head back up to the 
screened in porch to return to the board game battle.
xXx
"All right boys, go get your sweatshirts and we'll head into town 
for the fireworks," Sylvia instructs her sons as we douse the 
Roman candle we lit with water from the hose.
"YES!" both boys yell in unison. They race off towards the 
house. John Dryden laughs as they go.
"Well...Roger is pumped up isn't he?" he observes as Roger 
beats Ben to the back porch. He's standing next to Esther and 
as he speaks he puts his arm around her waist, smiling at her 
fondly. She smiles back at him.
"He certainly is a live-wire tonight, Sylvia," she tells her daughter 
as Sylvia bags up the refuse from our small fireworks display. 
There are still some left in the bag for when we return. 
"Winners usually are," I reply, smirking at Walter.
"Oh, listen to you," Sylvia teases me. "We still have one more 
day to go."
Roger and I partnered again for the Monopoly game and we're 
so far ahead that tomorrow's possible continuation of it is almost 
a moot point.
Walter brandishes the hose at me, growling his reply with good-
humored bluster, "I'm armed Mulder."
"Yes, watch out. Walter's deadly with a hose," Sylvia 
comments, giggling a little. She takes the garbage bag and 
places it in the garbage can next to the shed.
"Fire at will, Walter. But it won't matter. We're gonna win. No 
question," I reply, smirking.
"It's not over 'til the fat lady sings," Walter replies, laughing and 
turning the hose off.
"No danger of that happening around here," John Dryden quips, 
giving Esther's waist a little squeeze.
Walter glances at the gesture but doesn't make any comment. 
He smiles a little at his mother.
"Thank you JD," Sylvia bows in his direction.
"You old goat," Esther blusters, blushing a little and then smiling 
despite herself.
JD chuckles and removes his arm from Esther. He walks over 
and picks his jacket up from a lawn chair.
"How are we going to get this caravan on the road. You driving, 
Esther? I'm afraid my driving isn't an option."
"I can drive," Sylvia suggests. "But I think we're going to need 
two cars."
"I can drive," Walter volunteers. "I would imagine the boys 
would like to ride in the Jeep with Mulder and me anyway. If 
you'd like we could take them and you can drive mother and 
JD."
"I think that would work fine," Esther nods, gathering her 
sweater around her shoulders.
The temperature has dropped off a little the way it sometimes 
does at night on the water. We're all going to need our jackets, 
sweaters and sweatshirts. I'm doubly glad I brought this sports 
coat.
"Ok. Sylvia, let's get the cars then," Walter suggests.
"Mulder, why don't you and John help me get the blankets," 
Esther adds.
The ride into Reedsville is uneventful but interesting. Walter 
regales me with descriptions of the way the town used to be 
when he was a kid. Ben and Roger add today's perspective, 
talking excitedly about the computer store, Barnes and Noble 
and the video rental store as well. Starbucks brings a wrinkled 
nose but they comment that their mom likes to go there in the 
morning sometimes with Nana. They usually visit the arcade in 
the same mall instead.
Walter listens patiently and with interest but only because he 
enjoys hearing them share with him. I sense he's not overly 
excited about the changes in the town's ambiance.
The boys turn around in their seat belts in the back seat 
periodically and wave to their mother, grandmother and John 
Dryden. 
We arrive in Reedsville in just enough time to find decent 
parking places not too far from the beach-front. Walter parks 
first and Sylvia notes where, but pulls ahead in her Subaru 
Outback to find a closer spot. After Walter parks we take our 
share of the blankets out of the back of the Jeep. The boys 
volunteer to carry them and strut a little in their self-appointed 
task as we walk up the line of cars parked by the side of the 
road. All of us are looking for Sylvia, Esther and JD.
"There they are," Roger points, two blankets draped over his 
arms. 
Ben labors under his blanket but carries it manfully as Walter 
waves at the other three adults. Scores of other people are all 
walking in the same direction and I'm beginning to wonder if 
we'll ever manage to get close enough to see the show.
When we reach Sylvia, Esther and JD's side, Sylvia alludes to 
the same question.
"Good Lord. This crowd looks bigger than last year's," she says, 
placing her blankets over her arm. Dryden carries one of the 
other blankets over his cast. We have six in all. Three to sit on 
and three for covering up against the cooler night air.
"Ayup. Walter, you think two FBI agents and one old painter can 
get this group close enough?"
Walter cranes his neck, looking towards the beach.
"JD, on my left and watch your arm. Mulder, on my right. 
Sylvia, keep everyone close and I think we can get down 
there," he advises, fixing us all with a determined look.
"Use your badge," Ben replies seriously.
Walter chuckles.
"That's against regulations, Ben. In any case, I won't need it," 
Walter replies. "Gentlemen? Ladies?" he adds.
"Lead on," I reply and we push ahead into the crowd.
Walter is a formidable presence. He really does have an air of 
command. He dons it very easily and if he wants to make you 
move, you will. He doesn't have to exert pressure, get 
aggressive or belligerent. In fact, he's very soft-spoken about it. 
On occasion he doesn't have to use words at all. He just has to 
make eye contact with you and you'll let him pass. Right now 
he assumes this air of undeniable authority like a mantle as we 
make our way to the beach. People let our group by without 
complaint. Of course, Dryden, Sylvia and I all have our own 
techniques for moving us along. But it's really Walter that 
spearheads the campaign for prime beach fireworks viewing 
real estate.
Eventually we end up on the beach and manage to claim a spot 
for the three blankets just in front of a low sand dune. It's 
sheltered and the view of the display is going to be great. Walter 
smiles in satisfaction and he, and I and the boys spread the 
blankets out for all of us to sit on.
Walter sits to one end and spreads one of the other blankets 
over his shoulders. There's going to be just enough room for all 
of us to sit together. Walter notices this and without any 
hesitation he motions me over next, takes my hand and draws 
me down in front of him, settling me between his legs. He wraps 
the blanket around us both.
No one in the crowd around us is paying any attention. They're 
all too busy getting their own areas and setting up their own 
blankets. Besides by this time, it's dark. You can barely see the 
other people around us. Esther looks a little nervous but a quick 
glance around her makes her realize we really are practically 
hidden from view by the dune, the dark and the crowd. Dryden 
says something into her ear and she nods, smiling a little.
Sylvia and the boys pile in next to us and JD and Esther seat 
themselves on the other end. Everyone throws blankets over 
themselves. Sylvia pulls the boys close and bundles them all 
together, Ben giggling. I notice JD takes Esther around the 
shoulders under the blanket and chaffs her arm a little to warm 
her. The breeze is stronger here. Walter notices it too and I 
glance back at him when I feel him shift behind me. His mouth 
twitches in a grin.
"You cold, Mom?" he asks, the teasing heavy in his voice. Ben 
snickers.
"Not any more," Esther answers with feigned hautiness. I 
guffaw and Sylvia puts on a fake shocked look.
Esther laughs and snuggles closer to Dryden.
Walter whispers in my ear.
"I better have a talk with that guy real soon."
I chuckle and snuggle back against him.
"It's nearly time," Sylvia observes, pressing the button to 
illuminate her watch face.
The first salvos of fireworks split the air with a hiss and a bang 
shortly after Sylvia makes her announcement. The entire crowd 
looks up and I'm suddenly reminded of that scene in 'Close 
Encounters of the Third Kind'. The one in India where the crowd 
points up to the sky. But instead of hands, it's heads and instead 
of the alien's signature chords the Indians chanted in the film, 
this crowd resounds with a collective 'oooh!' and 'ahhhh!' at the 
bright lights above. Walter's nephews clap in excitement.
Walter hugs me close under the blanket and I stroke his 
forearms where they enfold me.
"Enjoy the show, babe" he whispers in my ear. I can feel his 
mouth smiling against my cheek.
"This is great!" I whisper, craning my neck up to watch the next 
explosion.
xXx
"Napoleon Brandy anyone?" JD asks as Esther locks the back 
door to Judge's Point behind us.
We got back from the fireworks quickly despite the traffic and 
went out back to finish our own small fireworks display. That 
didn't take too long either and now we're all standing in the 
kitchen as JD makes his suggestion.
I can tell the boys are tired. It's two late nights in a row for them 
and even though they're young, they're dragging a little. Esther 
looks beat. Sylvia too. Of course I'm used to late hours as is 
Walter really. So we've got a little oomph left. Apparently 
Dryden, despite his broken arm is catching his second wind. On 
the way home it appears Esther invited him to stay the night in 
Walter's old room in the house. So, he doesn't have to worry 
about either getting back across the creek with a snoot full or 
navigating very far to his bed. 
"As much as I hate to say this, I'm going to see these two to bed 
and then head that way myself," Sylvia replies.
"Ah, Mom," Ben complains.
Roger pushes him to tease him and Ben yelps in outrage, hitting 
Roger on the arm.
"Boys....come on now, it's late. You're obviously both overtired. 
Let's go, hit the showers," Sylvia prompts, seriously.
"Yes ma'am," they answer contritely.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to refuse too. I'm about at the end 
of my resources tonight, gentlemen. I will have to bid you all 
good evening," Esther replies politely.
"Gentlemen?" JD asks Walter and me.
"I think I can manage a snifter," Walter replies.
"Sounds good," I add.
"All right then. Are the snifters in the usual place, Esther?" JD 
replies.
"Yes. In the sideboard. I put the brandy there as well," Esther 
replies.
JD gives her a little bow and then takes her hand, kissing the 
back of it.
"Good night, my dear," he says very gallantly.
"Good night, sir," she smiles at him. "I'll put an extra towel and 
washcloth in the bathroom for you. Walter's old bedroom is the 
last one on the right. The bathroom is right across from it."
"Thanks," JD smiles at her. "Good night, Sylvia. Good night, 
boys," he adds.
Sylvia and her sons bid him good night. Walter says good night 
to Esther and Sylvia as well, kissing both on the cheek. The 
boys say good night to both of us and then that half of the group 
heads out of the kitchen for the bedroom wing of the house.
JD, Walter and I head into the living room and the sideboard. 
We all pour snifters of brandy. When we have them poured, JD 
lifts his up.
"Cheers," he salutes us. Then he takes a sniff of the brandy.
"Oh yes, that's the stuff," he grins, taking a sip. He rolls it around 
in his mouth, savoring it.
Walter chuckles. "Skoal," he replies, repeating the same 
procedure with his glass.
"Here's looking at you," I add.
I peer into my glass and then sniff it tentatively. It's very 
aromatic. Heady and rich. I take a sip. There's no bite to it at all. 
I swallow and it goes down like honey.
"Good, isn't it?" Walter comments as I lower my glass.
"JD was right this is smooth," I reply, lifting my glass to 
acknowledge his opinion.
"Excellent. I'm glad you enjoy it. Now, shall we repair to the 
sitting room and shoot the shit," he laughs.
Walter rumbles another chuckle and nods.
All three of us walk down into the sunken living room. I sit down 
on the couch and Walter sits down next to me. JD takes a seat 
in the armchair next to the couch. He puts his feet up on the 
hassock and cradles his arm a little.
"Arm bothering you?" Walter asks solicitously.
"Aches. It must be the night air. This brandy'll help."
"Did you take the pain meds?" I ask. I hope not. On top of the 
brandy that might be a risky proposition.
"No. I figured I didn't want to mix 'em with the booze later. It's 
not that bad actually. Two of these and I should be right as rain." 
We all sip our drinks. After a few moments JD puts his down on 
the table next to the chair.
"Walter, I guess you're gonna probably want to talk to me about 
your mother right about now," he begins, holding his arm close 
to his chest.
Walter bends forward and sets his snifter down on the coffee 
table. He straightens back up and squares his shoulders.
"The thought had occurred to me, yes," he replies evenly.
JD nods.
"Well...I've grown very fond of your mother. I...well I never 
thought I'd feel this way about a woman again but I am. I mean 
after Caroline died it just took me a long time to ever 
contemplate...uh...letting another woman into my life."
Walter nods. I listen, holding my brandy close, and try to remain 
unobtrusive. I feel rather awkward to be hearing this but also 
privileged. The fact that JD is talking about it in my presence 
tells me he truly sees me as Walter's partner, a part of the 
family and therefore worthy of respect and confidences.
"JD...I think my mother has pretty much been of the same 
opinion where men are concerned. Dad's death hit her really 
hard. It took her a long time to grieve for him," Walter responds 
quietly.
"Ayup," Dryden replies, nodding.
"So, your intentions are?" Walter asks, prompting him.
"My intentions are to ask her to marry me if she'll have me. 
But...I'd like your permission to court her, Walter. I mean she 
probably needs time to adjust to the idea and at our age and in 
New England circles where we come from, these things are 
done a little more formerly. So, if it's all right with you as the 
head of the Skinner clan here, I'd like to see your mother with 
the object being to make her my wife," JD replies.
Despite his forthrightness and guts I can tell he's nervous. It's a 
bit unusual to have to ask a woman's son for permission to see 
his mother. But in some conservative New England families the 
male head of the household is still consulted about such matters 
when the mother concerned is a widow. Also, I think it's JD's 
way of showing that he considers Walter a regular guy. The fact 
that he's gay doesn't mean JD thinks he's less of a man or less 
the head of the family. I think Walter senses this as well and his 
opinion of JD goes up another notch.
I glance at Walter. He seems calm. No jumping jaw muscles. I 
refocus on JD.
"JD...I appreciate you asking. And...you have my permission. 
And listen...if Esther says yes...it'll be an honor to welcome you 
into the family," Walter replies, smiling.
JD smiles back and his ear tips blush a little. He chuckles.
"Thank you, son. I...you don't know how hard it was for an old 
fool like me to get all that out," he breathes a sigh of relief.
I reach my arm up and rub Walter on the back.
"Don't worry, JD. Walter's really an old softy underneath the 
hard-assed exterior."
"Watch it, Mulder" he growls. "You'll ruin my reputation for 
striking fear in the hearts of my agents."
"It's intact. Believe me," I reply, removing my hand from his 
back. Yeah, even if I'm not reporting directly to him I have new 
agents bribing me with Redskins tickets to fill them in on how to 
survive under Walter's command.
JD laughs and picks up his brandy snifter.
"I understand from Mulder that you're a fair boss, Walter. So I'll 
assume you chew asses on an equal opportunity basis."
Walter and I both laugh and JD joins in.
We pass about a half hour more in conversation. I find out that 
the few galleries JD has his work in are in Boston, New York, 
Los Angeles and Chicago. He's a rather well-known 
watercolorist. He got to know Esther because he was giving 
classes at the arts league and she studied under him after 
Walter's husband died as a diversion in her grief.
We talk on about the area and how it's changed, the prospects 
of the Washington Redskins having a winning season and how 
JD fell off the ladder and woke up, half dazed after about 10 
minutes to call 911 himself. The old guy is one tough son of a 
bitch. He's also a hell of a nice guy. We're just finishing our 
second snifter of brandy when the clock strikes one AM. At that 
point we all decide to call it a night.
Walter volunteers to wash the snifters out in the kitchen and 
Dryden bids us both good night, heading off toward the 
bedroom wing. 
"Come on, Mulder. Let's clean these up and get down to the 
guest house," Walter suggests as Dryden disappears from our 
line of sight. 
"Sure thing," I reply, getting up to follow him.
xXx
Walter locks the back door to the house using the key from the 
closet again, pockets it and we exit the back porch to head out 
to the cottage. Walter takes me around the waist and we walk 
together. I place my hand on his ass.
"It's cool tonight," I observe.
"Yeah. Fewer mosquitoes," he chuckles. "Great out though. 
Clear sky. You can really see the stars."
We stop for a moment and look up. It is an incredible sight. He 
squeezes my waist.
"Come on, let's go," he rumbles.
My blood heats up against the chill at that low purr. Maybe 
we're not going to sleep right away I think. I smile a little as we 
walk to the cottage.
It doesn't take us long to clean up. I tidy up the bathroom a little 
and then come out to sit on the bed. Walter does his usual lock 
up routine, walking around in his BVDs before he closes the 
patio door curtains. As soon as things are secure, he strips off 
his underwear and tosses them into the part of his suitcase that 
he reserves for dirty laundry. After he puts the suitcase away, 
he stands before me naked and I let my eyes rove over him in 
appreciation.
"Come to bed," I suggest, my voice husky with desire. I reach 
down and remove my own boxer briefs and toss them to the 
foot of the bed. 
Walter walks over and removes his glasses and watch, setting 
them again on the night stand next to his cell phone. Our guns 
are once more locked up in the drawer.
I set the clock radio alarm for 10 AM so we don't sleep any later 
than that time. I do want to get in a run but I guess it'll be a late 
one. I turn off the night stand light and Walter climbs in next to 
me. We lie face to face and he strokes my hip.
"Well, it looks like you're going to be getting another new family 
member," I murmur, running my hand over his chest. I toy with 
the medallion that dangles down.
"Seems so. It'll be ok. I like JD. Have liked him whenever we've 
had an opportunity to talk. I...I think he'll be good to Esther. I 
think he'll be good for Esther."
"I think so too," I reply, kissing his chest a little. I'm going to take 
a big chance here and mention the matter regarding Scully and 
I being reassigned. It may be a big mistake, and ruin the mood. 
He may rip my head off. But like I said...it's been bothering me 
and I need to get it off my chest. "Listen, Walter, about 
something being good for Esther..." I begin.
"Yeah?" he asks, studying my face.
"Well...uh...this bit about not telling her or the rest of the family 
about Scully and my reassignment. Do you...do you still think 
that's a good idea?" I ask carefully.
Walter sighs and takes his hand from my hip. He takes my 
hand in his and kisses it. He releases my hand and then he 
answers.
"I know it bothers you. To tell you the truth it's bothering me. I've 
been buying time hoping the issue would resolve itself and you 
and Scully would be back under my jurisdiction. But I...well we 
don't know how long it's going to take to get that to happen."
"I know," I reply, running my hand over his shoulder.
"At any rate, I felt bad about letting JD think you were still under 
my jurisdiction. I feel worse now lying to my mother, Sylvia and 
the boys. I guess...I guess we should try to explain that's not the 
case before we leave here."
I let out my breath in relief. Thank God. This is one matter I'm 
glad he's been mulling over.
"I think that might be a good idea. We can think about how to tell 
them later I guess. I'm sure you can come up with a way," I 
reply quietly.
"I'm thinking of just telling them what I told you. That I didn't 
mention it because it's relatively recent and we thought 
temporary, but now I'd rather tell them just in case it isn't a 
short-term thing. This is Bureau bullshit. I'm sure they'll get that 
idea if I explain it under those terms," Walter replies. "In any 
event I hope they will. Maybe it'll help assuage everyone's fears 
about my being involved with a direct subordinate anyway."
"Yeah, there is that," I reply, nodding. "Sounds like as good a 
reason as any. You might as well go for it. I'll help explain if you 
like," I offer.
Walter nods.
"Yeah. We'll give it a shot. I'll bring it up before we leave then."
"Good," I reply.
He smiles, "I feel better getting all this off my chest. God knows 
there are enough things I can't tell my family. Getting myself 
clean on this issue feels good."
"Yeah. Less to worry about," I reply.
He studies my face, bringing his hand over to stroke my hip 
again. 
"You want to make love?" he whispers, almost shyly.
I reach forward and kiss him. When I pull back he chuckles.
"I'll take that as a yes."
"You're very perceptive, Mr. Skinner," I whisper, moving in 
close to caress his face.
We begin another slow, leisurely exploration of our bodies, 
reveling in the luxury of being able yet again to take our time to 
enjoy each other fully. This is the most sex either Walter or I've 
had in such a short period of time for quite a while. Even Scully 
and my times together have been rushed and few and far 
between lately. So, these last few days, being together 
whenever the mood takes us has been a real treasure. I reflect 
also that it's going to spoil us. But it's worth it. I also realize I 
want to experience the same thing with Scully. I hope that's 
going to be a possibility after we have our talk with her. I put that 
thought out of my mind as Walter runs his mouth down my 
body. He sucks, licks and kisses me from head to toe, finally 
pressing his lips to my collarbone, sucking hard. I moan in 
ecstasy as I feel the intense pressure that tells me he's marking 
me in passion.
Before long we're both fully aroused and erect. I lie back and 
pull Walter between my legs. He supports his weight on his 
forearms and I bring my knees up to embrace him between 
them. We lie there together for a few moments, savoring our 
cocks pressing together, kissing each other deeply.
Walter runs a hand through my hair. I arch up and my cock 
slides over his. He starts to move his hips, slowly and 
sensuously, and we begin to thrust together. Neither one of us 
talks. We just watch our faces, as the friction, and slick heat of 
sweat and pre-cum starts to carry us towards orgasm.
Both of us start to pant harder. Walter rises up slightly, seeking 
more leverage to drive against me. I bring my hands around to 
squeeze his ass, urging him on with my clutching fingers. I'm 
biting my lip from the exquisite sensation of feeling his muscles 
flexing as he pumps against me. I can feel his balls starting to 
pull up and he's grunting now with each thrust.
"Keep your eyes open," I gasp as I feel his cock swell against 
mine.
He nods once and pins my eyes as his hips jerk quickly against 
me. His eyes are dark, but shining...filled with the beauty of his 
soul and his love for me as he comes. I grab his forearms to 
help support him as he groans and convulses against me. His 
semen spurts out over my groin and stomach. He struggles to 
keep his eyes open as he grimaces in pleasure.
"Oh God," I gasp and then I climax as well, arching up violently 
against Walter as my balls contract, sending my cum out over 
his straining stomach muscles.
"Uhhhh," he groans still riding out the last of his orgasm.
I can see him trying to watch me, and as he comes down he 
does get the full effect of seeing me lost in the joy of our loving 
each other. His eyes widen slightly in wonder, and breathing 
hard, he cradles me in his arms as I rock against him.
Walter sinks down finally, and I hold his weight against me from 
head to foot, rubbing his back for a few seconds. He kisses my 
neck but then moves off to the side and we roll to face each 
other so we can catch our breath.
Neither one of us can speak but there's really no need for 
words. The look in Walter's eyes is enough. I glance down and 
see my boxer briefs on the end of the bed. I sit up and snag 
then, bringing them up to wipe Walter's cock, balls and stomach 
tenderly. Then I clean myself off and throw the sticky garment 
onto the floor.
Walter lies down flat and I snuggle next to him, putting my head 
on his pec. He brings his arm up and holds me close.
"Would you hold me so we can spoon together?" I whisper, 
looking up at him.
He smiles.
"Sure," he replies quietly.
I shift over onto my side and curl up. Walter curls his bulk 
around me and I sigh in contentment. He drapes an arm over 
my side and holds me close. I feel sleep coming on me very 
quickly. Walter's sleepy voice at my ear draws my attention 
however.
"I'll never forget the look on your face," he whispers, kissing into 
my hair.
"You were beautiful," I reply, reaching back to rub his hip.
His reply is another soft kiss, this one to the back of my neck. 
I snuggle closer and move my arm back around to hold his arm 
against me. I drift into slumber to the sound of his relaxed, even 
breathing.
xXx
July 5, 1999. 9:30 AM. The driveway outside Judge's Point.
I wake up before the alarm goes off and get dressed for my 
run. I decide to leave Walter in bed sleeping. I turn off the alarm. 
If he's not up when I get back I'll wake him up then. I hastily 
scrawl a note that I've gone running on the back of one of my 
business cards and place it on my bed pillow, figuring he'll spot 
it if he wakes up before I get back.
I lock up the cottage, putting the key in the small pocket in my 
running shorts and walk up to the main house. As I approach, I 
hear voices coming from the back porch and head there to see 
who's up. It turns out to be Sylvia and the boys. Sylvia is 
preparing to run as well while the boys eat breakfast at the 
picnic table. She informs me that Esther and JD are taking 
another walk on the beach. I don't tell her what transpired last 
evening. I figure JD's having his moment with Esther this 
morning and when they get back she'll get the news soon 
enough.
I tell Sylvia I left her brother sawing wood because I didn't have 
the heart to wake him. Her eyes naturally zero in on the hickey 
on my neck. I didn't even think about it this morning and wore 
my Knicks basketball jersey to go for the run. Oh brother. Well, 
a regular T-shirt will cover it up later. The boys don't notice it so 
I don't have to worry about being completely mortified.
I ask her to join me and we leave the boys chowing down on 
scrambled eggs, bacon and toast with orders to clean up 
afterwards. 
After stretching again, Sylvia and I take off on the same route 
we used that first morning we ran together.
Our feet pound the pavement, eating up the distance as we run 
along silently, concentrating this time on the exercise. We're 
setting a fast pace this time too. It feels good. The morning is 
mild and warm again. Sunny with a light breeze. I break a sweat 
and so does Sylvia as we hit the road outside Judge's Point and 
press on. At what must be the halfway mark, Sylvia glances 
down at her pedometer and signals me to turn round. We do 
and I let her set the pace and she moves off quickly.
About halfway back to the house again however, she starts to 
slow and then gasping pulls up to a walk. I slow down and pace 
her as she walks a few feet.
"What's wrong?" I ask concerned.
"Damn it," she curses roundly. "It's that sprain again. I must not 
have stretched out enough. Shit." She's limping, favoring her 
left foot.
"Can you make it back if we walk slowly? If not, I can go get 
the Jeep."
"I can make it back. Just let me rest a sec," she replies slowing 
to a stop. She stretches her ankle a little and that seems to help. 
"Why don't I massage it?" I ask her. "Sit over on the guard-rail 
and I'll see if I can work it out."
"That's an idea. Thanks," she replies, walking over to the guard-
rail.
Sylvia sits down and I squat in front of her, taking her left foot 
onto my knee. I take her shoe and sock off and place them 
aside. Then I start to probe at her ankle carefully.
"Does this hurt?"
"Not badly. It just feels strange...you know...tight," she replies.
"I don't think you re-sprained it. I just think it's a spasm," I reply, 
pulling her skin to massage the muscle away from the spot 
where it feels the most tight.
"Oh...that feels good," she chuckles. I look up at her and smile. 
"Yeah, this'll be fine. It's just a cramp," I observe. "Stretch out 
longer next time and you should be ok."
"I'll rest it tomorrow and run the next day," she suggests.
"Not a bad idea. Try a little heat later too."
She nods and I continue to work on her ankle. After a moment 
she chuckles and I look up.
"What?" I ask, smiling.
"Oh...I was just thinking of that hickey...not yours. I mean 
Walter's that time. Yours just reminded me how funny that was 
at the time."
I laugh.
"Yeah. I guess this is payback," I reply, nodding down at my 
collarbone.
"Well...it was worth it. I'm sure," she replies, smirking a little.
"Oh yeah," I reply, my ears burning.
I take her sock up and draw it back over her foot. Her shoe 
goes on next and then I stand up and step back.
"How's that feel?" I ask her as she stands up and puts weight on 
it.
"I can walk back fine on it. Thanks. You can run on if you want. 
I'll manage."
"No. That's ok. I'll walk back with you. We were almost back 
anyway."
"Ok, thanks," she smiles and we fall into step side by side.
After a few moments, Sylvia speaks.
"Can I ask your opinion about something. Nothing earth-
shattering, just...just a conundrum I have at the moment," she 
smiles a little at me.
"Sure," I reply.
"Well I'm leaning towards getting the kids a dog. Roger and I 
talked it over on the phone yesterday and I think they're 
probably up to the responsibility."
"They seem pretty mature for young kids. Maybe that's true," I 
observe.
"They've been so good on this trip and really lately they do 
seem a lot more grown-up. I guess I'm starting to cave in. 
They've begged for a dog for over a year now. I suppose we 
can give it a shot."
"Dogs and kids. It's kind of inevitable sometimes," I muse, 
smiling at her.
"Yeah. Roger loves dogs too and actually I wouldn't mind 
having one either. I'm just torn between a big dog or a small 
dog. What do you think about Labs? Those pups Kelly's have 
are from good bloodlines. The mother was a champion in the 
show ring."
"Labs are great dogs. Our neighbors on Martha's Vineyard had 
one when I was a kid. It was friendly and great with people. It 
was a female and a little smaller. Maybe if you got a uh...bitch it 
wouldn't be quite as large. Spayed bitches make nice pets."
"Oh yeah, I didn't think about that idea. Ben said they had nine 
puppies, four boys and five girls so there'd be plenty of choice 
there."
"Well, I guess I'd go for it then," I advise. "If you feel they're 
ready you could take the pup back and they'd have the rest of 
the summer to acclimate her. They could even go to an 
obedience class if you have them in the area."
"We do have training classes in the area. Great. Yeah...I think I'll 
call Kelly's later today and arrange to take a look at the pups 
tomorrow sometime. Thanks Mulder. I appreciate the help."
"Hey, my pleasure," I smile. It makes me feel really good to 
help out. I feel like part of the family and it's a great moment for 
me. I'm also glad to contemplate how happy and excited the 
boys are going to be to hear the news.
Sylvia and I walk on, changing the subject to a discussion of 
running as a sport and America's hopes in running in the next 
Olympics.
xXx
When I return to the cottage I can hear Walter in the shower. He 
must have worked out, there's a towel damp with sweat left to 
dry over a chair back in the bedroom. I peel off my sweaty 
clothes, toss them on my duffel bag for the moment, and enter 
the bathroom.
Walter stands in the shower and I walk over, pull open the door 
and climb in to join him.
"Morning, babe," he smiles, running his soapy hands over his 
chest. "I made coffee."
"I saw that. Great. Thanks," I smile, leaning close to give him a 
quick kiss. He busses my lips and a little soap drips on my nose 
from his forehead. He laughs and dabs at it leaving a big smear 
of Dove soap in its place. I laugh and start to use it to wash.
We exchange the bar of soap a couple of times, getting 
ourselves lathered up really well. I reach for a washcloth to give 
myself a good hard scrub, removing some road dirt I got on my 
legs when I massaged Sylvia's ankle.
I turn Walter around and wash his back, working my fingers 
along his shoulders, massaging a little. He's not tense like he 
usually is through the neck and shoulders. The vacation is 
helping him to relax at last now that things are calming down 
with his family. I know both of us are going to relish this time 
later, after we get back to DC and things heat up again over 
Kersh and with Scully. But right now, he's probably as happy as 
I've seen him in a long time. I'm going to try to preserve that 
state as long as I can.
"Sylvia ran with me," I tell him as he returns the favor and 
washes my back.
"Oh yeah. You beat her back this time?" he chuckles.
"Well, actually...she had some trouble with her ankle," I admit. 
"She ok?" he asks concern in his voice.
"Oh yeah. I massaged it for her and she should be fine. It was 
just a cramp, I think."
"Ah. Good," he replies, running his hands down over my ass 
with the soap.
"She's going to get the kids one of those Lab puppies," I reveal 
as Walter's hands stroke back up to my shoulders and he 
scrubs a little more.
"Really?" he gives a small laugh. "Well those kids will be on 
Cloud Nine. Labs are nice dogs. That'll probably work out."
"That's what I told her," I nod. "She...she asked me for my 
advice," I add, trying to sound casual but knowing I can't keep 
the pleasure out of my voice.
"She did? Great. Uh...that's really great, Mulder," he replies, 
understanding what that means and why it makes me sound so 
happy. 
He slaps me on the back and I turn around under the spray.
"I guess you got yourself a sister-in-law, Monster Boy," he 
replies, smiling wide.
"Yeah, I guess I do. And if I'm not mistaken...you're probably 
getting a stepfather. JD's still walking Esther on the beach. I bet 
he's trying to work up the nerve to ask her to consider marrying 
him."
Walter chuckles and swipes himself down with water.
"Well I guess we'd better hurry up and get up to the main house 
then. If there's going to be some kind of big announcement I 
don't want to miss it."
"Me either. I should shave then I guess. Can you get me my 
shaving gel and razor?"
"Ok. You've got the shower to yourself now anyway. I'm gonna 
dress," he replies.
I move forward and kiss him lightly on the lips again. He runs 
his hand across my collarbone and fingers the hickey when I 
break the kiss.
"Yeah, Sylvia saw it. I wore my Knicks jersey like an idiot."
"I guess I got a little enthusiastic," he replies.
"It's ok. It's not like I haven't gotten uh...enthusiastic before 
myself."
"Good point," he replies and I wonder if he's thinking of that time 
back at Christmas when Sylvia saw my mark on him.
"I'd better get ready," I remind him as he looks into my eyes. 
"Yeah," he smiles, "I'll get your shaving gear."
xXx
I'm the one who notices JD and Esther kissing as we walk back 
towards the main house.
"Slow down," I hiss at Walter as he strides purposely towards 
the back porch.
"What?" he asks, turning to look at me.
"Just hang on. Look, down there past the beach," I advise him 
pointing towards the copse of trees that lies beyond the sand.
Esther and JD are standing, framed against the trees and he 
has her in his arms kissing her.
"Holy shit," Walter breathes out.
I can't help it. I giggle a little at the shock on his face.
"Well I guess she said yes," I laugh.
He turns, recovering quickly and smiles at me.
"If I wanted to be a bastard I could get a lot of mileage out of 
that little scene," he quips.
I shake my head in amusement.
"You are so full of shit. You're as pleased as hell. Admit it. You 
were hoping she'd say yes, right?"
"Yeah, I was. I really do like the guy. I'm happy for them both. 
Let's go around to the front door so we give them some 
privacy."
Esther in her inimitable way makes the announcement, when it 
comes, even more significant. JD's plan had been to merely 
ask her to allow him to court her...but mention the fact he was in 
love with her of course. As it turns out the optimistic artist had a 
ring crafted for her by a silversmith friend of his. He was 
hedging his bets just in case Esther did what she did. When JD 
mentioned being in love with her and wanting the chance to see 
her with the intent of giving her time to think about things, Esther 
called him an old fool and told him to just propose and get it 
over with. So, he did.
When they got back up to the house, they made the 
announcement together to everyone's delight and 
congratulations. Walter will be getting his stepdad sometime 
around Christmas so it's going to be a hell of a Christmas 
celebration that's for sure.
The rest of the day is spent in leisure activity. JD stays on, using 
the Judge's Point phone to let his next door neighbors across 
the creek know where he's located so no one worries about 
him. He also checks his phone mail and makes a call with 
Esther's permission to the gallery in Boston that handles his 
work. He's sold several more watercolors and needs to arrange 
for his agent to bring more down. So the old guy is still going 
strong in the painting department.
After a light lunch and time for it to settle, the boys and Sylvia 
go swimming again rather than continue the Monopoly game. 
After all, Roger and my victory is practically assured so the 
game is really for all intents and purposes done.
Walter and I join Sylvia and his nephews. Of course, the boys 
are excited about going to the movies tonight. They had on their 
'Phantom Menace' T-shirts when we got into the house this 
morning. Sylvia is going to make them an early dinner before 
the show. Walter and I will help and eat as well. Sylvia, Esther 
and JD are going to drive in the opposite direction to the tiny 
town of Fairport. It's just a bump in the road, but there's a small 
tavern there that belongs to friends of JD. I gather they have 
fantastic seafood. JD is going to treat Sylvia and Esther to 
dinner while we're in Reedsville.
Walter and I had been swimming around with Sylvia and the 
boys but now we're sitting on our towels on the dock. We oiled 
ourselves up so we could just enjoy this last afternoon of leisure 
in the sun. The boys have moved off on their inner tubes, 
paddling around, trying to stare down into the water to spot 
anything interesting on the bottom in the creek's shallows. 
Sylvia swims towards shore, stands up once she reaches the 
shallows, and walks back down the beach towards us. She 
decided that the swim might help her ankle further. She's not 
limping so I think it was a good idea.
Walter has his arm draped casually around my shoulders and 
he's not paying attention to Sylvia, although he knows the boys 
are engrossed and not noticing us on the dock. He moves close 
and nuzzles my neck.
"Coconut is a good flavor for you," he rumbles, kissing my skin. 
I chuckle.
"If I'd known that I wouldn't have taken a shower the other day," 
I reply, teasing him.
He takes my face, turns it and kisses me. I gasp a little in 
surprise but yield to his persuasive lips, opening my mouth to let 
him taste me.
A throat clears behind us and Walter releases me. His ears go a 
little red. I guess maybe he didn't really intend to do that with 
Sylvia coming up behind us on the dock. He removes his arm 
from my shoulder and I move away from him a little, 
rearranging my baggy swim trunks to mask Walter's effects on 
my body.
"You two are worse than two horny 16 year olds," she laughs, 
walking to her towel next to us. She steps onto it and sits down, 
reaching for the suntan oil.
"Yeah? Well as I recall, I caught you and Roger tonsil diving 
down under this dock one night when you were horny 16 year 
olds. So, I guess this must be the make-out spot on Judge's 
Point," Walter replies, good-natured humor in his voice.
Sylvia laughs harder and pours some oil onto her hands.
"God, don't I know it. I got a lecture for an hour after that little 
incident. Roger just about ran home."
"So you've known Roger that long?"
"Yes, his folks are from Reedsville. They've since retired to 
Florida and California respectively, but Roger grew up here. I've 
known him since grade school actually. I guess we were kind of 
childhood sweethearts."
"That's great," I smile at her.
"Yeah, I miss the big galoot. Sometimes the weeks he's on duty 
can get mighty long," Sylvia adds.
Walter's face goes soft at her remark.
"Hey, uh...I know that's tough," he replies with understanding. 
"It comes with being a fireman's wife. I've learned to deal with 
it," Sylvia shrugs.
Walter clears his throat.
"Maybe you two should take some time for yourselves soon. 
You know...get away together. You could come out here," he 
suggests.
"Well...I hate to ask Mom to watch the kids too much. She's so 
good about it, but, well...I don't want to take advantage of her." 
I watch Walter and I can see the wheels turning. I wait, intent to 
hear his answer.
"Why don't you and Roger bring the kids to DC? You two could 
stay in a hotel and have your privacy, and the kids could stay 
with me." 
"Seriously?" she asks, a little incredulous.
"Sure. I'd love having them stay with me. I'm sure I can get 
some time off sometime during the fall if I plan. Just let me 
know in plenty of time and I can make arrangements."
I smile a little and Walter catches my expression.
"Mulder can help me ride herd on them. He knows all the best 
schlock monster movies Roger would love. He also knows 
those three guys who have more PCs than Ben's ever seen in 
his life and can get Redskins tickets to boot."
"Yeah, Ben's gonna love meeting Frohike, Byers and Langly. 
They take 'dorkdom' to an all new level of excellence," I 
interject, chuckling.
"God...I don't know what to say, Walter...Mulder..." Sylvia 
replies, with stunned appreciation. "I mean, you're both so 
busy...your schedules..."
"Just say yes, sis. It...it'll be really great to have them visit," 
Walter interrupts gently.
Sylvia puts down the suntan oil and moves over to Walter's 
towel. She bends and kisses him sweetly on the cheek. When 
she pulls back he's smiling like an idiot.
"Yes," she says simply and he grins wider, showing all his teeth. 
I make a mental note to contact The Lone Gunmen when we 
get back and tell them to hide the porn vids and get ready to 
hunt for some Skins tickets as soon as I give them the word.
xXx
"Now, I'm counting on you both to act like gentlemen for your 
Uncle Walter and Mulder. No horsing around. And Ben, 
remember our agreement - you can have popcorn and soda 
only if you wash pots and pans for a week for lying earlier."
"Yes, ma'am," Roger answers seriously.
"Yes ma'am," Ben answers contritely.
"I'm holding you to it, Ben," Sylvia adds.
"I promise," Ben replies again, smiling tentatively.
"All right, good boy," Sylvia smiles back at him and Ben 
brightens immediately.
Sylvia had called Kelly's during the afternoon and arranged to 
go over there tomorrow with the boys to look over the puppies. 
She's keeping it as a surprise and intends to spring it on them 
when we get back from the movies so Walter and I can share in 
the moment. Somehow after Ben hears that news I think he'll 
make sure he never lies again. I also think he won't care one 
iota about washing all those pots and pans.
Esther and JD come out of the kitchen. They volunteered to 
clean up after our early dinner so that we could all get ready to 
leave. 
"Have a good time now. Enjoy the movie," Esther smiles at her 
two nephews.
"Again," JD jokes.
"You've seen it three times yourself," Ben giggles.
"Guilty as charged. What can I say?" JD laughs.
"Yeah, JD loves SciFi," Roger informs me.
"A man after my own heart," I reply.
JD chuckles.
Our attention is drawn to the front door as Walter re-enters the 
house.
"So, you three ready to go?" Walter asks, coming back in from 
pulling the Jeep out.
He looks great in his black T-shirt, Dockers Khakis and jacket. 
I'm wearing a white T-shirt, jeans and my jacket as well. The 
boys have on the ubiquitous 'Phantom Menace' T-shirts and 
regulation baggy shorts. We're really ready for our night on the 
town, I guess. The boys are practically vibrating with excitement 
and Walter looks like the cat that swallowed the canary he's so 
pleased to be taking them to the movies. Roger glances at Ben.
"Ready to...." Roger begins.
"Rumble!" Ben whoops, giving the tag-line for the World 
Wrestling Federation. "We even have our allowance money for 
the popcorn and soda," he adds proudly.
"I'd say that's a yes," I reply smiling at Walter.
Walter gives me that 1000 watt smile again and my chest gets 
tight with emotion.
God he looks so good. It...it's just really fantastic to see him 
enjoy himself so much.
"All right then, your limo awaits," he quips, gesturing towards the 
front door.
"Bye now, be careful," Sylvia adds.
"We will, Mom," Roger replies.
"We'll have 'em back right after the movie," Walter assures her. 
"See you all later," I touch Sylvia's shoulder and then I follow 
Walter and the boys out the door.
xXx
The trip to Reedsville is filled with a blow by blow description of 
all three original Star Wars films with imitations of the important 
characters courtesy of me, Ben and Roger. I think Walter would 
be ready to rip what hair he does have left out if he wasn't 
driving and had to keep both hands on the wheel.
But in one glorious moment we do get him to imitate Yoda and 
it's so hilarious that I end up almost choking on my spit and both 
boys pound my back when they think I'm choking.
We pull into the theater's crowded parking lot and are forced to 
park near the rear. But we do get a stall under one of the 
security lights so we'll be able to see the Jeep well enough when 
we return. 
The boys pile out and Walter locks the vehicle up with the alarm 
on his keychain.
"Lead on," he tells Ben and Roger and they proudly forge 
ahead, strutting a little to be in the company of their uncle.
"Man, they are really pumped," he chuckles, checking his 
weapon. 
"They're excited to be with their uncle," I reply, smiling at him. 
"I think..." Walter begins.
"Roger, didn't Mulder sound just like Luke Skywalker? That was 
too 'phat'," Ben says from up ahead of us, interrupting Walter's 
comment. 
"Yeah, he's really 'thick'," Roger replies.
Walter looks at me and raises an eyebrow.
"I was going to say I think you're a hit too," he comments.
"Isn't that what they just said?" I reply, strutting a little myself.
Walter chuckles.
"Yeah, I guess."
I laugh and clap him on the back.
"I gotta put on MTV at your place more often," I reply as we 
reach the theater entrance.
There's a small crowd outside the theater entrance waiting to 
get in for the 7 o'clock show. The theater is a real old time 
theater - almost an art house with one big auditorium. Roger 
informs us it even has a balcony. Ben also informs us that 
between Reedsville and Carlisle, a nearby town to the West, 
they're also building a multiplex theater complex. I hope this 
great old relic can withstand the competition. Walter is of the 
opinion that it can. The Reedsville population is rather faithful 
when it comes to supporting local businesses.
Walter and I line up with the boys and people watch. The line for 
tickets isn't too long so we'll get in well before the film starts 
since we were a little early anyway. I see a couple of men 
walking down the street towards us and they look very familiar.
"Walter...aren't those two guys..."
"Yeah, the guys from the rest stop. Jack and Keith," Walter 
nods. 
"Before and After Design," I add.
Ben and Roger crane their necks to see who we're talking 
about. 
"Hey, those are the two men who repaired JD's dock last year," 
Ben informs us.
Jack and Keith approach us and recognize us as well.
"Walter, Fox!" Jack greets us as they line up behind.
"Small world," Keith smiles.
"I guess so," Walter greets them pleasantly, shaking Jack's 
hand first and then Keith's as well. I do the same.
"Nice to see you again," I tell them.
Walter turns to his nephews.
"These are my nephews, Roger and Ben. They say you worked 
on a friend of theirs dock last year."
"John Dryden's dock," Roger informs them.
"Oh yeah. The painter. I remember you guys. You were over 
there fishing off his beach while we did the repairs," Jack 
replies.
"You guys own 'Squirt'," Ben smiles at them.
"That's right. We appreciated you keeping him occupied that 
day," Keith replies.
"Did his leg get better?" Roger asks, concern in his voice.
"Good as new," Jack replies. Then he looks at Walter and me 
again. 
"Squirt broke his leg last year and had to wear a cast. We ended 
up taking him out on jobs until it healed. These two young men 
were instrumental in keeping him amused while we worked on 
Mr. Dryden's dock," he tells Walter.
"I see," Walter replies, ruffling Ben's hair.
"We met Jack and Keith on the way to Judge's Point," I add. 
"We met 'Squirt' too."
Jack and Keith laugh.
"I guess you did," Keith replies, chuckling.
"So are you Star Wars fans too, then?" Jack asks.
"Yes," I answer as they reply, saying the same thing.
We all laugh as the line moves up, allowing us to get inside the 
theater at last.
Jack and Keith continue to talk to us while we buy our tickets. 
They tell us about repairing JD's dock and seeing some of his 
watercolors when he invited them in for iced tea. Once the 
tickets are purchased we head into the lobby and the boys rush 
to line up again, this time for popcorn.
"You want any, Mulder? I'm going to pass," Walter advises.
"Well I can't see a movie without popcorn," I reply.
"I think I'll pass as well. We just ate dinner," Keith comments. 
"Ditto," Jack smiles.
"Ok. Uh...you want to get seats?" I ask Walter.
"Sure, would you two like to join us?" he asks Jack and Keith 
politely.
"Oh, no, that's all right. We don't want to intrude on your outing 
with your nephews," Jack replies, shaking his head.
Just as Walter's going to reply a group of six rowdy high school 
aged teens come barreling across the lobby after coming down 
out of the theater balcony. They're running, shoving each other 
around, and making a lot of noise. One of them careens into 
Keith and almost knocks him down.
"Hey, be careful," Jack blurts out.
Walter grabs the culprit, a tall, wiry, black-haired kid with acne, 
as he ricochets off Keith and into his chest.
"Slow down, son. Where's the fire?" he asks, pushing the kid 
back gently and looking directly into his face.
"Leggo," the kid blusters glancing around. "You don't have no 
right to touch me."
"I do if you're creating a public disturbance. You almost 
knocked this gentleman down."
The teen's friends have noticed the altercation by this point and 
come back over.
"'Tag', come on man..." another boy with a shaved head calls to 
him.
"I'm comin'," he calls back. "Come on, mister. Let go. I'm gonna 
miss my bus," he addresses Walter.
"Just watch it, all right. You cause a problem I'll call the 
manager," Walter advises him, releasing his arm.
"Screw off, asshole," the kid hisses. "I'll call the manager. You 
perverts shouldn't be touchin' kids my age. It's against the law." 
Walter turns scarlet and I can see his jaw muscles clench like 
steel bands.
The kid runs off with his friends towards the exit, yelling 'faggot' 
over his shoulder.
"Damn it," Jack swears. "I am so sorry. We...we've had a 
problem here lately with..."
"With gang banger wannabes," Keith interjects. "They've been 
harassing everyone but unfortunately gays are a particular 
target. We had a run-in with them outside a bar about two 
weeks ago. I guess they recognized us."
Walter sighs and runs his hand over his scalp.
"Wonderful," I sigh heavily.
"Well that's unfortunate. But look...don't worry about it. I've been 
called a lot worse. They're out of here. Let's...uh...let's go find 
our seats and enjoy the film. You're still welcome to join us," 
Walter replies.
He's clearly trying to calm himself down. He's pissed, 
embarrassed and just a little bit shaken up from the encounter. I 
am too actually. Some of those kids were tough looking and if 
they hadn't been in a hurry to catch their bus there might have 
been more serious trouble. Getting involved in a complaint over 
an accusation of pedofilia wouldn't put any of us in a very good 
position. The minute Walter and I would have to show our ID the 
proverbial jig would be up regardless of whether anyone 
suspected we were gay. FBI agents aren't supposed to be 
involved in awkward situations with civilians if we can help it. It's 
just bad PR for the Bureau and one thing the Bureau hangs you 
out to dry on is bad PR. Why do you think Scully and I have 
been in the basement for 6 years?
"We'd like to join you, yes," Jack replies, smiling at us. "Thank 
you."
"Yeah, thanks a lot," Keith adds, nodding his head.
I glance towards the concession stand. Roger and Ben are just 
now being waited on.
"I'll get my popcorn and bring the boys," I add.
"Ok. We'll watch for you inside," Walter advises me. He turns 
with Jack and Keith and walks towards the auditorium door.
I head over to the concession stand thinking that I'm grateful 
neither Ben or Roger were paying attention when that jerk 
called their uncle a 'faggot'.
xXx
About two hours later we're all back out in the lobby again via 
the restroom. The boys are dueling with imaginary lightsabers 
and Walter and I are talking to Jack and Keith about possibly re-
roofing Judge's Point's guest house roof come spring. Jack and 
Keith really do seem like good people. I'd look forward to getting 
to know them further if Walter and I get a chance to come down 
here again later. 
Finally we gather ourselves together to leave.
"Why don't you all wait here and I'll go get the Jeep," Walter 
offers. "Are you parked in the lot?" he asks Jack and Keith.
"No. Actually we parked down the street at the restaurant where 
we ate. We're just going to walk back there," Keith replies.
"Right. Keith, I wanna grab another Diet Pepsi though to take 
back. You know how I am with popcorn," Jack adds.
Keith laughs, "The 'Salt King', yeah I know. Ok, I'll wait for you 
to tank up again."
"Thanks, my man. Hope to see you again, Walter. Before spring 
even if you and Mulder get out this way again.
"Sounds great. I'd like that," Walter replies shaking both their 
hands.
"It was nice seeing you again," I reply, shaking hands as well. 
"All right then," Walter nods. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes.
Jack heads over to the concession sign again and Keith hangs 
out with me.
"Boys!" Walter calls to his nephews from where they've made 
their way over to the couple of video games in the lobby.
"Yes sir?" Roger replies.
"Finish up the game. I'm going to get the Jeep."
"Ok," Ben calls back. "Roger's about to beat me anyway," he 
adds without rancor.
I watch Walter as he makes his way across the lobby and out 
the exit. Roger and Ben come up to our side and ask Keith if 
they can come see 'Squirt' sometime before they go back to 
Ambler.
xXx
Keith and Jack and I talk for a while. The boys are watching out 
the exit for Walter when I glance at my watch. It's taking too 
long to get the Jeep. My stomach does that nervous flip that I 
get when I know there's something wrong. My blood starts to 
sing with the rush of adrenaline that comes when I'm on a case 
and things heat up. Jack notices me look at my watch and 
stops sipping his soda.
"It's too long," he comments a bit nervously.
"Yeah. Listen...could you watch the kids? I'm going to go see 
what's up," I reply, trying to keep my voice from being so tense. 
"Do you want me to come with you?" Keith asks.
"Uh, yeah. Would you mind?" I ask quietly.
"Not at all," Keith nods.
I nod back and turn towards Walter's nephews.
"Guys, come here a sec," I call, gesturing towards them.
They trot over dutifully.
"Look, can you two wait here with Mr. Hill? I'm going to see 
what's taking your Uncle Walter so long," I smile at Roger and 
Ben. 
"Can I come too?" Roger asks, squaring his shoulders. He 
senses the nervousness in my voice and is volunteering to go 
because he feels he's the oldest nephew and should help if 
something is wrong. 
I touch his shoulder.
"Actually it would really help if you stay here and help Jack 
watch your brother. Also keep an eagle eye out for your uncle 
in case he just had something like a flat tire and got delayed 
because he had to change it. Can you do that for me?" I ask 
evenly, removing my hand from his shoulder.
"Is something bad happening to Uncle Walter?" Ben asks in a 
small voice.
"No, I'm sure he's fine," I reply with more conviction than I'm 
starting to feel with each passing second. "We probably ran 
over a nail and we have a flat. I'm sure I'll be right back to let 
you know," I glance up at Jack. His face is tense too.
"I can stay and watch Ben," Roger replies, taking Ben's hand 
tentatively in his.
Ben takes it readily and holds on tight. Both boys are really 
perceptive kids. They can tell I think something's wrong. I hope 
to hell they have nothing to worry about.
"Ready. Keith?" I ask the tall contractor.
"Yeah," he replies, nodding with a tight smile.
As soon as we're out the door and out of earshot Keith queries 
me. 
"Obviously you think something's wrong. What?" he asks 
tersely. 
"Look...I'm going to be honest with you. I'm an FBI agent. 
Walter is too..." I begin.
Keith looks at me shocked for a moment but he recovers 
quickly, swallowing his surprise in a hard gulp.
"And your sixth sense is telling you there's a problem?" he 
observes accurately.
"Exactly. My short hairs are standing on end," I grin a little trying 
to lessen the tension.
He grins a little back.
"Yeah I know what you mean. I'm a Nam vet. I know the 
feeling. Look, if it's any consolation...I have a black belt in 
karate. If there's trouble, I can handle myself," Keith replies.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," I reply, as we stride quickly 
down the two blocks that separate the lot from the movie 
theater.
When we reach the gate to the lot it's still fairly full of vacant 
cars. Patrons for the nine o'clock show have parked in it to 
replace the seven o'clock crowd. I automatically move myself 
in front of Keith and slow, listening intently.
We both hear the sound of raised voices coming from the back 
of the lot where we parked the Jeep earlier.
I can hear Walter's command voice unmistakably say, "That 
would be a mistake."
The angry response of "Fuck you, faggot," is unmistakably that 
of 'Tag', the punk who ran into Keith in the theater.
"Shit," I curse.
"That's that punk isn't it?" Keith says at the same time.
"Yeah. Look...uh...stay behind me and stay clear. Don't do 
anything unless I tell you. And for God's sake if I yell 'gun' get 
down," I quickly explain, drawing out my weapon and clicking 
the safety off.
Keith nods and fades back a little as I walk forward as 
cautiously as I can. I don't want to startle anyone up ahead in 
case Walter actually has whatever situation is developing under 
control. A split-second later that proves to not be the case as we 
hear the sound of a fist meeting flesh, the loud commotion of a 
fight up ahead.
I don't even hesitate, I run between the parked cars, gun drawn, 
up and ready. Keith pounds behind me.
Just before we run around a large Suburban that's parked in our 
way I hear someone yell.
"'Tag', he was tellin' the truth. Let's get the fuck out of here." 
The panicked voice is followed by running feet and the sound of 
bodies throwing themselves onto the chain-link fence that 
surrounds the lot. I rush around the side of the van, Keith 
following and the Jeep and Walter are clearly visible in the light 
we parked under. 
Walter is leaning back against the hood, one hand holding his 
stomach and the other dabbing at his mouth with his 
handkerchief. 
"Jesus," I hiss, flipping the safety back on my gun and 
holstering it.
The six kids from the theater are climbing the fence, hauling ass 
fast.
"Should I?" Keith asks, indicating where one kid is having 
trouble hoisting himself up.
"Let 'em go," I reply quickly as we rush forward to where Walter 
is breathing hard next to the Jeep.
"God damn it," I curse when I reach his side.
"It seems 'Tag' was a little upset over missing his bus," Walter 
huffs, his lips twitching into an agonized smile.
I take his shoulder and gather him close to my side, oblivious of 
the blood running from his split lip. I pull up his T-shirt.
"Where are Roger and Ben?" he asks, grimacing.
"With Jack at the theater," I answer breathlessly as I shove his 
hand aside to get a better look at his stomach.
"I'm all right," he blusters.
"Shut the fuck up," I spit urgently and to my amazement he 
does, allowing me to probe his stomach and rib area. Keith 
stands by waiting.
"Should I call 911?" he asks. "I have my cell phone."
"No," Walter replies, shaking his head vehemently. "Uh...I can't 
risk any complications...uh," he grunts as I find the exact spot 
where he was punched.
"It's ok, Walter. I told Keith we work for the FBI. He 
understands," I interject quickly to reassure him.
"Yeah, I know what you mean about the ramifications of being 
outted over something like this...but...if you need a doctor..."
Walter looks up at Keith and shakes his head curtly again.
"Believe me, I know when I need a doctor. I'll be fine."
I look up at them both and straighten again, letting go of Walter's 
shoulders. Walter straightens up as well.
"Yeah, you'll live. But this is going to be one hell of a bruise. 
What the fuck happened?" I ask, my voice trembling a little.
"Well evidently they did miss their bus across town to some big 
party they were going to attend. 'Tag' persuaded them all to wait 
around and teach the faggot a lesson," Walter replies, wiping his 
lip a little more.
"That's going to need ice," Keith observes. "We can get some 
from the concession stand at the theater."
Walter nods.
"How did you keep them from beating the crap out of you?" 
Keith asks, curious.
"Well luckily a couple of the kids were more scared than angry. 
They kept telling 'Tag' they wanted to just leave and get to the 
party. Not everyone was in the 'let's fuck with the faggot' 
program. So, I tried to reason with them. I finally showed them 
my ID and that's when 'Tag' and a couple of the others started 
arguing that it was a fake, and I used it to lure little boys into my 
car...that kind of crap. That's when 'Tag' hit me..." he begins to 
explain.
"Christ, Walter," I interrupt, shaking my head and leaning 
against the Jeep. My hands are shaking. I breathe to try to calm 
myself. The prospect of Walter being hurt has me shaken up 
more than I want to admit.
"You didn't fight back? Shit...it's lucky they didn't get your 
piece," Keith comments.
"Well the lower lip's cut on the inside from the head-butt I gave 
'Tag' actually. There was never any danger of them getting my 
gun," Walter answers in a gruff voice. "And they weren't 
armed...they didn't draw on me. If they'd wanted to really make 
me pay they would have just shot, or even tried to cut me 
where I stood," he adds, bitterly.
I raise an eyebrow at him but the look in his eyes tells me he's 
stating the facts accurately. Letting a perp get his gun is the last 
thing Walter would ever want to have happen. He would have 
fought to let it not happen.
"God," Keith shakes his head in disgust.
Walter continues.
"But...they were all underage. I was extremely reluctant to fight 
back any further and I was damned reluctant to draw on them 
once it became apparent they were unarmed and really, as you 
said, gang-banger wannabes. They went to water when I did 
finally show them my piece anyway. The kid hit me, I head-
butted him and he went to his knees. When I didn't go down and 
he did, that shocked the shit out of them first. When I fanned 
my coat back and they got a look at the gun they rabbitted," 
Walter replies, holding his handkerchief to his mouth and 
applying a little more pressure to stop the ooze of blood. 
"Six against one...you're lucky they didn't pound you into the 
damn pavement," I reply, shaking my head in dismay.
Walter shrugs and blots his mouth one more time lowering his 
eyes as he folds the handkerchief into a square. He rubs his 
forehead a little, frowns and sighs in resignation at the idea he's 
more than likely going to have a bruise there as well. He 
pockets his handkerchief.
I know what he's thinking and what he won't say in front of 
Keith. If they'd tried to beat him to death he would have been 
more than capable of getting the upper hand, drawing and firing 
on a bunch of inexperienced and disorganized teen-aged hoods. 
Regardless of the consequences he would have fought for his 
own life if it came down to it.
"Look, we'd better get back to the theater. Jack and the kids are 
going to be scared to death," I comment.
"Yeah, Keith's idea on the ice was great," Walter replies.
"We can tell the theater manager you just had a nosebleed or 
something," Keith suggests.
Walter nods, albeit reluctantly. Covering up is making him very 
uncomfortable. But, we have no real choice. He's going to have 
to just go with the flow.
I look at the bloodstained front of his black T-shirt. It looks wet 
but you wouldn't know it was blood. That should draw less 
attention and also help the kids to not freak out right away.
"Get the boys aside and explain what happened, Mulder. I know 
they're going to be upset. I want to minimize it if we can," Walter 
advises me as if reading my mind.
I nod and move away from the side of the Jeep.
"Do you need help?" Keith asks as Walter levers up from his 
leaning position.
"Thanks, but no. I'll be able to navigate," Walter replies.
I flank him anyway and so does Keith as he takes a couple of 
halting steps. Then he starts to walk more firmly and both of us 
stop watching him so carefully.
"Keith and I can come back and get the Jeep after we have you 
fixed up with the ice," I suggest as we walk towards the parking 
lot gate.
"Sounds fine," he nods, walking better by the second as we 
pass through the exit.
xXx
The drive back to Judge's Point is exceedingly more subdued 
than the drive into Reedsville had been.
Walter sits in the shotgun seat, holding the improvised ice-pack 
we obtained from the theater concession stand to his lip. Roger 
and Ben sit quietly in the back seat, just watching the night pass 
by outside the window.
We tried to explain what happened to them by saying the teens 
were angry at Walter for making them late for the party and 
wanted to teach him a lesson. He didn't minimize the name-
calling and since Jack and Keith are obviously out, Walter did 
say that the gang was prejudiced against homosexuals and 
thought because we were four men hanging out together, two of 
which were known to be gay, we all must be gay and that made 
them want to hurt their Uncle Walter more.
I don't think they understood. They wanted to call the police and 
have them try to apprehend 'Tag' and his ersatz gang. They 
didn't understand why Walter wouldn't want to catch the people 
that hurt him. Walter didn't quite have the patience or the 
strength left to go into it fully with them. I wasn't sure what else 
to say myself at that point. I mean what could I say? Uncle 
Walter and I have to hide our love because besides the fucking 
FBI roasting us over a spit for it, the evil sons of bitches behind 
the scenes in the Consortium would both use it against us? 
Yeah, right.
Walter did the best he could to assuage their worry, and then he 
told them he'd try to explain more when they got home. He was 
just exhausted and I think a little in shock at last from the 
experience. I know he didn't want to be abrasive or short with 
his nephews, preferring to remain silent until he gets back to the 
house and Sylvia can help him to explain things better to them.
So, now the boys sit quietly, brooding in the back seat and 
Walter sits brooding in the front. I know he's thinking about how 
the hell he's going to make his nephews understand that even 
though he said our relationship was not for public consumption 
that idea extends even to not informing the police when 
someone has threatened your life.
Jack and Keith stuck around until they were sure we were ok. 
Then they left to return to their car. Both of them were angry 
over the attack and frustrated because they knew that under 
the circumstances Walter couldn't press assault charges. The 
incident would bring on too many questions. Questions we can't 
afford to answer.
So, while the boys used the restroom one more time, Walter 
called Judge's Point from the theater to let their mother, Esther 
and JD know we'd be late. There was no answer so he called 
Sylvia's cell phone number. Sylvia, JD and Esther were just 
leaving the tavern in Fairport and so as not to cause them to 
panic, Walter just said that we ran into Jack and Keith and were 
running late.
Walter looks dismal, really down, and I know I don't look much 
better. I stretch my hand across and squeeze his thigh to 
comfort him. He glances at me, twitches a small smile and 
turns again to look out the window.
xXx
"Oh my God," Sylvia exclaims in dismay when we enter the 
front door of Judge's Point.
She's just taking her sweater off and Esther and JD are walking 
into the living room when we come in after parking the Jeep out 
front.
Roger and Ben run to their mother and grab her around the 
waist. Esther turns around as does JD and when she sees 
Walter's swollen face, her face grows white.
"Good Lord," JD blurts. However, Esther remains quiet and 
advances with a steely calm.
"What happened, Walter," she asks matter-of-factly, striding 
past Sylvia where she's hugging and calming down her two 
sons. She comes up to Walter and in a very business-like way, 
examines his lip to assess the damage. Walter squirms a little 
and if I wasn't feeling so miserable I might laugh about how 
much he looks like a little boy trying to hide that his mouth hurts 
from his mother.
"Walter had an uh...altercation in the theater parking lot after the 
movie," I attempt to explain as his mother looks at his mouth. 
"Mugger?" JD asks with concern.
"A gang of kids," I volunteer. "About six of them caused some 
trouble in the movie theater. Walter took exception to it and they 
jumped him when he went to get the Jeep for us afterwards."
Sylvia turns red with anger.
"In Reedsville? For God's sake," she blusters.
"Apparently Barnes and Noble and Starbucks aren't the only so-
called progress Reedsville is making. Uh...these were described 
to us as gang-banger wannabes. So, I'd say Reedsville is 
catching up with the times in more ways than one," Walter 
mumbles over Esther's hand.
"Hell of a note," JD shakes his head sadly. "You want a brandy, 
son?" he asks sympathetically, eyeing Walter's wincing 
countenance. 
"Yeah, I would," Walter nods as Esther steps back from 
surveying his wound.
"You'll be fine. The ice helped. You'll be a little sore and colorful 
for a while, but that's all," she pronounces.
"My mother's father was a doctor. She had more than her share 
of experience with bruises and contusions," Walter explains.
"Not to mention raising a son who liked to talk with his fists as a 
teenager," Esther pats Walter on the shoulder. He gives her a 
small, indulgent smile and it's nice to see the love for her spring 
up in his eyes.
I nod and smile a little myself.
Ben's sad, small voice pipes up from where he stands next to 
Roger and his mother.
"They called Uncle Walter a faggot," he interjects very quietly. 
There's dead silence as all eyes turn to the nine year old.
Esther is the first to look back at Walter.
"Maybe you'd better explain 'everything' that happened tonight, 
Walter," she advises, looking from him to me, with her 
eyebrows raised.
xXx
"Shit, yeah, that's tender too," Walter swears as I massage the 
top of his hip very carefully.
"There's a bruise here too. You must have gotten it when you 
fell back against the side of the Jeep."
He sighs, "Probably. Christ. I'm going to be one huge fucking 
contusion at this rate," he grouches.
It's twenty minutes past eleven o'clock and we're back in the 
Judge's Point guest house. Both of us are on the bed. Walter is 
lying on his stomach, in his briefs, after a nice hot shower and 
I'm giving him a gentle massage. I'm wearing a clean pair of 
boxer briefs having showered with him.
"Well, you're not bruised here," I whisper, kissing his opposite 
butt cheek.
He rumbles a small laugh.
"Thanks, babe. I...I appreciate the sentiment," he replies wearily.
The discussion earlier took a lot out of all of us. Sylvia realized 
rather quickly that the boys were getting upset and that they 
didn't really quite understand why Walter and I can't be more 
open about our relationship and our homosexuality. Of course 
she doesn't know about the Consortium and our work on the X-
Files in that area, but she does understand Bureau protocol and 
what our relationship would mean in that context.
She took the boys down into the bedroom wing and got them 
started on their showers, promising she and their Nana would 
come back after they were in bed, and make sure they knew 
what was going on. They'd try to help them understand a little 
better. Then she came back out into the living room to hear 
Walter describe the night's events. God knows how they'll 
accomplish helping the boys to understand. All I can hope is that 
they had an idea as to how.
JD was quiet through a lot of the discussion. I think he felt like a 
bit of an outsider despite Esther accepting his proposal of 
marriage. He sat by her on the couch, put his arm around her in 
comfort, and occasionally tried to add a logical spin on how he 
could understand Walter and my need to be discreet.
Walter even went on to reveal that I wasn't assigned to him any 
longer in order to try to help explain that even so they still had to 
realize that he was my senior even though not my supervisor 
and the impact if we were discovered at the Bureau would be 
the same.
Everyone understood it all but Esther and Sylvia were upset and 
disturbed by the incident and the position Walter and I are in. 
They professed that they just needed time to digest it, however. 
I think they were reeling from the fact that Walter was attacked 
and hurt. JD said he understood what we were saying and as 
far as he was concerned, although it was indeed troubling, we 
could cope with it, especially after some rest. All three of them 
gave Walter and I their support. Esther and Sylvia gave Walter 
their love as well, kissing him finally when we broke up for the 
night.
I know even Sylvia didn't consider just how far ranging the fact 
that Walter and I can't be open would affect their lives as well as 
ours. It's a tragedy that anything like this ever had to happen. 
But it did and now each of us will have to deal with it as best we 
can. JD seemed to be the most pragmatic about it. As Walter 
and I walked out through the kitchen to the back door I could 
hear his more cheerful, good-natured voice in the living room 
working to lift the women's spirits a little.
Maybe things will be better in the morning after they all sleep on 
it, as JD intimated.
So, now I'm trying to make Walter comfortable. Tending to my 
lover is helping to calm me as well. Just the experience of 
showing my love for him is life affirming and makes me feel 
better as I give him the massage.
"Roll over, I'll work on the front now," I suggest and as he's 
shifting there's a knock on the cottage door.
Walter raises his eyebrows.
"Yes?" I call out.
"Uh...it's just me," JD's voice comes through the door.
I glance at Walter and he nods his head.
"Hang on, JD," he replies.
"Lie still, I'll go," I whisper. I throw the sheet and comforter over 
Walter, and get up off the bed to answer the door. I grab 
Walter's robe from the end of the bed, and slip it on.
I open the door and admit the artist.
"Hey, JD," I greet him, smiling.
"JD," Walter nods, stretching a little in the bed.
"Hope you don't mind my coming down. If I hadn't seen the 
lights on I would have gone back to the main house. But...we 
never did have that drink," he grins a little, brandishing the bottle 
of Napoleon brandy. "You still look like you could use it," JD 
observes as he comes in.
I shut the door and lock it behind him, standing aside as he 
walks over to the small dining table and puts the bottle down.
Walter chuckles.
"Yeah, I can still use it. And I take it you're staying the night 
again," he rumbles, appreciation and a certain amount of good-
natured ribbing in his voice.
JD laughs.
"Ayup. I was hoping to see the boy's reaction when they heard 
the news about the puppy. Since Sylvia didn't have a chance to 
tell them tonight really, she was kind enough to invite me to stay 
through tomorrow so I can see the announcement made then."
The puppy had come up during the earlier discussion. It was 
deemed advisable to go ahead and take the boys to choose one 
tomorrow. By the time they were going to head back to Ambler 
on Friday, the puppy would be old enough to go home with 
them. Besides, everyone was hoping the prospect of getting the 
dog was going to take the boy's minds off tonight's events.
"Oh, right," Walter smiles and nods. "That...that's great, JD," he 
adds.
I walk over and collect three glasses from the cabinet under the 
coffeemaker.
I bring them over and place them on the table. JD opens the 
brandy, pours some out in all three. I pick two up and carry 
them to the bed, handing one to Walter. I take mine and sit 
down on the edge of the bed next to Walter and facing JD.
JD pulls one of the chairs out from the table, straddles it so he 
can rest his cast on the back and lifts his glass high in the air. 
"Here's to the future, may it shine brightly for all of us," he 
toasts, not bothering to sniff the brandy at all, but taking a swig 
and swallowing it.
Walter lifts his glass up.
"A hell of a lot brighter than tonight," he replies, downing half the 
glass in one swallow.
I nod and do the same, managing not to choke as the brandy 
slides smoothly down my throat.
"Walter...Mulder...Mind if I offer you both a piece of advice?" 
JD asks carefully.
Walter sips at his brandy and then replies.
"Why not?"
I shrug.
"Go for it. I'm always willing to listen to advice," I reply, grinning 
a little.
JD looks from me to Walter.
"I bet he listens but he doesn't take it often does he?" JD 
comments, grinning.
Walter barks a laugh.
"No shit," he snorts.
I turn and blow him a kiss and he laughs harder. JD chuckles.
"Hey, I'll be the first to agree with you. Guilty as charged," I 
reply, addressing JD.
"Thought so. You strike me as an anarchist at heart, Mulder. 
And listen...don't ever lose that 'stick it in the face of authority' 
attitude," he replies.
Walter starts to speak again, actually thinks better of it, and lets 
JD continue. JD takes a deep breath to get it all out at once. 
"That kind of comes around to my advice. Gentlemen...to put it 
bluntly and simply. Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. Now, I 
don't mean your family, Walter, or yours, Mulder. They're 
gonna come around because they love you and I know they'll 
come to understand this situation, including your being 
homosexuals. The assholes I'm talking about are the rest of the 
teeming prejudiced masses out there. The ones like those 
unfortunate young men tonight that are intolerant and think the 
worst of you. Don't let them drag you two down. What you 
have...well I don't make a distinction between one type of love 
and another where consenting adults are involved, gentlemen. I 
can see the way you look at each other...the way you treat 
each other. You're as much married as I ever was to my late 
wife, God rest her soul. As much as I'll be married to your 
mother, Walter, God bless her. I'd never want to see anyone 
ruin that for you. I mean that most sincerely. So...don't give up 
what you have for anything. You hear me. I'd hate to see that 
happen. I really would," JD pronounces, lifting his glass to his 
lips and taking an emphatic drink to punctuate his words.
Walter and I stare at him for a moment at a total loss for words. 
I feel a lump in my throat and lift the glass to my lips to wash it 
down and cover the fact that I'm starting to tear up a little.
Walter sets his glass down on the night stand. He clears his 
throat.
"JD, back when I started to get an inkling that you were 
interested in my mother I was...well I wasn't sure it was a good 
thing. You'll have to forgive me there. I tend to be 
suspicious...wary of other people. It comes with the territory. 
But...I got to know you. I just want to say, I respect you. You're 
a hell of a human being. I think you're going to be good for 
Esther and I know you'll both be very happy. I also want to 
say...I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you just said. 
And I want to add...I'll be honored to call you...my father," 
Walter replies, his voice rough with emotion.
"Walter...I never want to usurp your father's memory. I'll be 
happy if you'll just call me friend," JD replies, his voice 
quavering slightly.
"Done," Walter smiles, picking his glass up and saluting JD with 
it.
"Thank you, JD," I add. It's all I can manage to say.
"You're welcome son, you're most welcome," JD replies, 
smiling and lifting his glass to us both again.
xXx
JD is kind enough to leave the brandy when he goes back to 
the main house. He assures us before he goes that from talking 
to Esther and Sylvia after we came back to the cottage, they're 
going to cope with what happened. He thinks they can handle 
the boys as well. It's been his experience that families that have 
weathered a lot of strife together and come out better for it as 
Walter's seems to have done, will usually rally together when 
faced with adversity.
I can almost feel he's right. I'm going to hope he is right for 
everyone's sake.
"Sleep in, gentlemen," he advises. "I think everyone will. I know 
I will. If you don't have to leave until tomorrow afternoon, you 
can afford the sack time. Good night," the watercolorist advises 
as he makes his exit from the guest house.
I get up off the bed and lock the door behind him. I turn off the 
overhead light, leaving just the bathroom and night stand light on 
Walter's side of the bed as the only illumination. Then I retrieve 
the bottle from the dining table and bring it over to the bed. 
Walter divines my intent, pushes the covers down, and waits as 
I walk over to the bed and climb in with him. We move to sit 
across from each other, Indian style.
"Glass, please," I smile, gesturing for him to extend his glass 
towards me.
He smiles and stretches his hand over. I fill his half full glass 
with the brandy again. I fill my glass as well and then place the 
bottle on the night stand.
"Here's to the future..." I toast.
"May it shine brightly for all of us," Walter finishes JD's toast. 
There's a certain sad irony to that toast for us. Although we may 
devoutly wish it to be true the odds are going to be that the 
future won't be bright for Walter, or I, or Scully.
But...I've always been one to buck the odds. So has Scully, and 
so has Walter. I believe we always will. It gives me more hope 
that the future will at least be better if not brighter due to that 
fact. I have hope it will be brighter because I have hope Walter, 
Scully and I will be facing it together.
On that thought, I smile and reach forward, winding my forearm 
around Walter's. He smiles, picks up on my intent again and 
moves closer, allowing us to lock arms easily as we drink from 
our glasses together.
When we've drunk our fill we unwind our arms.
"Saw that in a 'classy' movie," I grin at him.
"Erotica instead of porn?" Walter replies, chuckling.
"Now, now. I watch Public Television and Bravo too, you know," 
I smirk.
"When you're at my place," Walter parries back.
I reach forward and take his glass, putting it and mine on the 
night stand.
Walter shuts the night stand light off and then lies back on the 
pillows, facing me. I lie down beside him, propping myself up on 
my set of pillows. I reach over and toy with the medallion on his 
chest. 
"Walter," I whisper. "I don't know what I would have done if 
you'd been...if tonight you'd been..."
"Shhhh," he replies, putting his finger to my lips. "If something 
happens to me...you'd go on, Mulder. You'd still have 
Scully...and you'd go on."
"Walter..." I start to protest.
"Mulder...I'd want you to go on. There's no question."
"Then I'd go on," I whisper.
He nods, and then he pins my eyes with his. When he moves 
forward to kiss me it's my turn to touch his lips.
"Walter, your mouth," I protest. The lip has to still be sore. 
"Then kiss me on the other side," he replies, grinning a little. 
I smile and try to comply but as soon as our lips touch he slants 
his mouth over mine and then we're kissing and it's wonderful. I 
pour all the love I feel for him into the kiss. I let him know that I'll 
love him forever as my lips play over his.
He takes my face in his hand, cupping it gently and his mouth 
moves over mine, answering that love with the eagerness of his 
firm lips. I open my lips to admit his probing tongue and taste 
the brandy that must be making his kiss marvelously passionate 
despite his injuries.
When we draw apart, I gather him close. We lie there for a few 
moments in silence just feeling our hearts beating together.
It occurs to me that it may be a long time before we can be this 
intimate together again. I consider that maybe, as has been the 
pattern this weekend, we should be fucking like dogs in heat 
again. But, neither one of us is getting hard, and it's apparent 
that we're not going to go there. I think we're too emotionally 
and physically spent to get it up to be quite frank. And you know 
what...it's really of no consequence. It felt fantastic just to kiss 
and wonderful to just hold each other now. Right at this 
moment, I don't need anything else at all.
I pull back and look into his eyes. I stroke his scalp and then his 
fringe of hair where it meets his neck. His eyes are heavy-
lidded with sleepiness. Exhaustion is finally catching up with 
him.
"Relax, lover," I croon. "Just...let me hold you. Go...go to sleep," 
I whisper.
His brow creases a little. He probably thinks I want it again and 
I'll be disappointed if he falls asleep on me. I shake my head 
and kiss the little bruise on his forehead. When I pull my lips 
back I smile into his eyes.
"No way, Mr. Wayne. Don't even think about it. I'm way too 
whacked myself. Now, rest. We both need it," I advise him.
His brow smoothes out and he rumbles a laugh.
"All right, Boy Wonder. But...you're taking a rain check," he 
adds, echoing his earlier words from the beginning of the 
vacation. 
"You know it, Batman. Now, assume the position," I tell him 
parroting my earlier response as well. I whirl my finger in the air 
gesturing for him to turn over so we can spoon together. He'll be 
off his sore hip this way too. Ideal solution to that problem I think 
as he grins and complies with my suggestion.
We snuggle close together and I hold him protectively in my 
embrace.
I kiss his neck and he sighs, settling against me in total 
relaxation.
"Sweet dreams," I whisper.
"You too," he replies softly.
I hold him and listen to the comforting sounds of his breathing, 
feel his steady, thrumming heartbeat again and revel in his 
warmth and the 'Walter' scent of his body as we both drift off to 
sleep. 
xXx
EPILOGUE
July 7, 1999. 11 AM. Washington, DC. FBI bullpen.
Well...vacation is most definitely over for the 'Dynamic Trio'. 
Walter and I are back at the Hoover and so is La Scully. A 
familiar pattern has asserted itself. AD Skinner has been in 
meetings all morning. Agent Scully and Agent Mulder have 
been on the phone, performing endless background checks like 
trained dogs for AD Kersh. 
Scully and I didn't have time to say squat about our respective 
trips once we got to work. I knew that would be the case so I 
tried to call Scully last night. She was in transit however when I 
finally got through to her. Both of us were tired and tabled 
discussion for later. All we ended up talking about at all, was the 
fact that Byers and her mother are officially a couple, and Bill 
tucked his tail between his legs and left for San Diego. I can 
hardly wait to hear the whole story. I expect she has a lot to tell 
me.
I certainly have a lot to tell her. God knows I'm not in a hurry to 
relate to her about Walter getting beat up. But there are good 
things about the trip that I know she'll want to hear. Everything 
from Walter's mother getting engaged to his nephews picking 
out a puppy the morning before we left. Walter went along to 
help choose and the 'pick' pup, tail wagging like hell, pissed all 
over Walter when he held her in his arms.
Scully wants to get together with both of us soon to compare 
notes. Of course we have to discuss Kersh as well, and...we're 
going to be discussing a lot more although she doesn't know 
that at all yet. I'm trying not to let on about Walter's news. It's 
going to make our meeting soon mandatory regardless of the 
Kersh issue. Yeah, Kersh or no Kersh...Walter and I are going to 
have to meet with Scully anyway...and then face the music and 
deal with it.
Finally, at 11 o'clock, I'm in desperate need of more coffee.
"Scully, you want some coffee? I'm gonna hit the machine."
"Hit it for me too," she smiles, reaching into her tailored suit coat 
for some spare change. "Here you go," she offers.
"Nah, it's on me," I smile. She re-pockets her money and just as 
I'm moving to get up, her phone rings. It's an in-house call. I sit 
down to listen in on the conversation.
She answers it.
"Dana Scully."
She listens a moment.
"Yes?" she asks, raising her eyebrows and glancing at me. I 
raise my eyebrows back but she's listening intently into the 
phone.
"No...we can come right up. Oh? Oh...all right. Yes, right away," 
she confirms, nodding. She hangs up the phone and stares at 
me.
"I've been called into Kersh's office," she says quietly.
"Oh," I reply. I grab for my suit coat and move to get up again. 
"Just me," she whispers.
I get a cold feeling in my guts.
"Just you?" I ask, worry coloring my voice.
She shrugs slightly, concern creasing her brow as well.
"I have to go," she gestures with her eyes towards the bullpen 
door.
I nod, sinking further into my chair as she turns to walk away. 
"Don't forget the lube," I suggest sotto voce. She glances back 
at me, shaking her head with an indulgent, beleaguered half-
smile.
I watch her walk away from me, all the short hairs on my neck 
spiking up at once.
xXx
"So they're splitting us up?" I ask quietly.
Scully stands at her desk, looking at me, a pained expression 
on her face. She snaps her briefcase shut to punctuate her next 
words. 
"No," she states, emphatically. But, I detect the tinge of doubt in 
her voice.
"No?" I ask incredulously
"Mulder, this...this is a one-time thing," she replies, no real 
conviction in her words.
I shake my head in disbelief. God damn Kersh. I know what's 
going on here. This is his way of telling me I'm a worthless, no 
account loser and he still has hope that if Scully is removed 
from my influence she'll still have a career. I pin her eyes and 
try to get her to say as much...or maybe get her to deny it so I 
won't feel like I want to fall on my sword and die.
"Who told you that...Kersh? Obviously, if you do a good job 
they're not going to stick you back here," I hiss low.
She stares at me for a moment, and then her eyes flick away. 
Her attention is drawn to some guy I don't recognize entering 
our little sweatshop.
"Am I right?" I whisper again as the man approaches our desks. 
Scully doesn't answer, she merely tracks the guy as he 
approaches. 
"Agent Scully, we're all set," the interloper states, addressing my 
partner.
"Peyton Ritter, this is Fox Mulder," Scully says, making 
introductions.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Fox," Ritter replies.
I just stare at him for a moment. I can't get up...or more to the 
point I won't get up. I'm not going to stand up for the asshole 
who's going to be the de facto cause of Scully and me being 
quite literally and figuratively, ripped apart. I muster all my 
reserves however to put up some kind of front so Ritter doesn't 
suspect I know what's really going on. Even though he's 
probably a stooge in all this, it wouldn't do to let him think I hate 
his guts for his unwitting role in driving a wedge between me 
and my partner...between me and the woman I love. That would 
help accomplish just what our enemies want - to see us twisting 
in the wind, giving up, dying inside...and making a public scene 
about it on top of it.
So, I swallow my pride, my fear and my sorrow, and I extend 
my hand. It's almost as if I'm hypnotized as he shakes it. I hear 
myself speak and I barely recognize my own voice.
"A pleasure to meet you -- Peyton," I drone.
"We should get going," Scully interjects in a small voice.
"Off to New York," Ritter intones, watching my face.
I grit my teeth as they both nod, turn and leave my presence. I 
watch Scully pick up her briefcase and walk away. She carries 
herself ramrod straight as she accompanies Peyton Ritter off to 
New York and the homicide case Kersh has assigned her to 
help the NYPD investigate.
I watch her until she disappears from my sight and then I grab 
my cell phone out of my pocket, punching in Walter's private 
beeper number as fast as my fingers can move over the 
buttons.
***Author's note: I'm sure you all know what's coming next. My 
apologies to the talented Mr. Vince Gilligan for lifting part of his 
marvelous script for 'Tithonus' so that I could give you a 
foreshadowing of future events in my series.
-THE END...FOR NOW-