Summary: Skinner is shattered by Mulder's disappearance and blames
himself.  Who does he lean on when things get rough?

Note: This is for you, The Fox.:)

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Kimberly looked at the small digital clock on her desk.

5:30 pm.

And STILL no word from Skinner.

She looked at the closed door to his office.

Usually by now he would have appeared in his doorway or at least have
buzzed her desk.
 
 

"Kimberly?"

"Yes sir?"

"You can go on home.  I'm going to work late.  Have a good evening."

"Goodnight, sir."
 
 

They had held the same conversation again and again over the years.

But not tonight.

She looked at the clock again.

5:32 p.m.

Kimberly tapped her fingernails nervously on her desk, caught herself
and stopped.

Several agents leaned in to say goodnight as they left for the
evening.

5:40 p.m.

She stood and paced to his door.  She knew he didn't like anyone
busting in on him while he worked, but she was getting worried.

Kimberly knocked softly and opened the door.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I-"

She stopped as she took in the scene before her and sighed with
relief.

Skinner snored softly from where he slept on his folded arms.

His head was turned toward her and his glasses had been pushed askew.

A file folder was open beneath his resting form and the lamp glinted
off the cup of almost certainly cold coffee on one corner of his desk.

She smiled and sighed.

Her boss really was a very handsome man.

Kimberly knew that the search for Agent Mulder had to be the cause
for this exhaustion.  She remembered the look on his face when he had
returned from Oregon without Mulder.

She had been early that morning and had witnessed a very wrung-out
Skinner skulking into his office in civilian clothes.

She remembered looking up, surprised, as he entered the office.

Now, Kimberly had been Skinner's assistant for almost ten years, but
she had never seen him so distraught.

Not when Sharon divorced him.

Not when Agent Scully announced she was dying of cancer.

Never.

Those times he'd simply buried himself in his work, seemingly unaware
of the extra effort she took to make sure he took care of himself.

The take-out breakfasts left on his desk in the mornings.

The reminders that it was lunchtime and invitations to join her for
the meal.  Which he always refused.

But she'd never had to remind him of 5 o'clock.  He always made sure
she left when she was supposed to.

She knew he thought of it as his little consideration for her.

Occasionally, she found flowers on her desk from an anonymous sender.

The cards gave him away.  They said things like, "To one of the
sweetest women I know," and "You are appreciated."

Very sweet, but very professional.  She knew it was him.

Besides, she could spot that handwriting anywhere.

She pulled her mind back from the tangent it had run away on.

No, she had never seen him so distraught than she had that early
morning.

Because this time he blamed himself.

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

"Sir?" she had said, " what happened?"

The look on his face caused her to stand up from behind her desk.

He just stopped and stared at her forlornly for a moment.

She, in return, regarded him standing there in dirty blue jeans and a
rumpled shirt rolled up to his elbows.

His glasses had slipped down his nose, but he didn't bother to push
them back up.

He almost seemed to be swaying with exhaustion.

Then Kimberly had done something she hadn't done in the whole time
she'd been his assistant.

She showed overt concern over him.

And he was so defeated, he didn't even object.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Kimberly noticed that a couple of early-bird agents had paused as
they passed in the hallway to stare at the back of the assistant
director incredulously.

She quickly dashed around the desk and bodily guided Skinner into his
office.

Her sense of alarm increased as he leaned into her strength and let
her lead him to the couch in his office.

"Here, sit down," she gently said as she eased him down to the couch.

She went to straighten and go pour him a cup of coffee, but he
clutched at her.

"I-I need to tell someone.  I lost him.  She-she's pregnant and I
lost him.  She trusted me and I lost him."

Kimberly sat next to him on the couch and he continued to tightly
grasp her hand.

She had known this man for almost ten years, seen him day in and day
out, and had never seen him cry.

Now silent tears ran in rivlets down his face.

She found herself taking his glasses off carefully with her free hand
and wiping his tears away with her fingertips.

He met her eyes.  His were brown pools of sorrow.

"How could I have done that to them?"

She knew very little of the situation that had drawn him to Oregon
last night.  Only what had been said in the hastily written note that
she had found on her desk this morning.
 

"Kimberly,

 I have gone with Agent Mulder on a case in Oregon.  May not
be back by morning.  If I have not returned in time for my first
appointment, clear my calendar for the day.

  Thank You,
   W.Skinner"
 
 

"Are you talking about Agents Mulder and Scully?"

He nodded and closed his eyes.

"Scully is pregnant and Mulder is the father?"

Again he nodded.  This did not surprise Kimberly in the least.  Any
fool could see that the two agents were deeply in love.

"And, something happened to Agent Mulder last night in Oregon?  Oh,"
she gasped, "he's - he's not- he's not DEAD is he?"

Skinner opened his eyes and looked into her horrified face.

Whether the two of them liked to admit it or not, Agents Mulder and
Scully were their favorite agents under Skinner's supervision.
Kimberly knew that Skinner considered them as practically family.

He shook his head.

"He's not dead.  Just....gone."

"Gone?"

She watched Skinner swallow nervously.

"Abducted by a spaceship," he stated firmly while watching for her
reaction.

"Um...oh," Her eyebrow rose.  She didn't quite know what to say.

But, after seeing what she had seen while working here and reading in
their reports what Mulder and Scully had been through in some of
their cases....

She wasn't totally inclined to disbelieve Skinner's claim.

"You-you saw it happen?"

Skinner again nodded.  Again regarding her with that steady, but
exhausted, stare.

"I'm sorry," she couldn't think of much else to say.

He leaned back heavily against the couch, flopping his head back.

"I've been driving around all night. Just going over and over it in
my head."

She watched him, thinking of all the things that he had just revealed
to her.

It was then that Kimberly noticed he was filthy.

"I'll be right back," she said softly to his reclining figure as she
gently pried his grip from hers and set his glasses on the floor next
to the couch.

Kimberly left his office and returned with several wet papertowels.

Skinner barely raised his head as she reentered the office and sat
back on the couch.

He flinched slightly as she touched the wet towel to his face.

"Hold still.  Let me help you," she murmured.

He sat up, but kept his eyes closed as she wiped the grime from his
face.

"This isn't your fault, you know," she said to him as she tilted his
head back with her fingertips to clean his neck, "I wasn't there, but
I think I know you well enough to know that you did all you possibly
could."

He reached up to stop her hand, opened his eyes and looked at her.

Still grasping her wrist, he had leaned forward and softly kissed her.

She had been surprised at first, but even more surprised when she
felt herself kissing him back.

The two sat like that for a long moment, breaths intermingling.
Tentatively and carefully kissing one another.

Skinner pulled away first.  His brown eyes were softer now, less
pained.

"Thank you, Kim."

They both knew that he meant for more than just the sympathetic ear.

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

In the few weeks time since that day, things had subtly changed.

They occasionally ate lunch together.

He had been known to call just to see how she was doing.

She called him 'Walter' when they were off-duty and he called
her 'Kim' as opposed to the very formal 'Kimberly' he used at work.

Theirs was a fledgling and very tenative relationship.

They were both very aware that he was at least 20 years her senior.

AND her boss.

This could get very messy if not handled carefully.

Kimberly shook herself back to the present and her snoring boss.

"Sir?"

She reached out a hand and touched his shoulder.

"Hmmm? Did I fall asleep? What time is it?"

He sat up, winced as he stretched his back, straightened his glasses
and blinked at his watch.

"It is past five o'clock and time for you to go home and get some
rest...WALTER," she emphasized.

He looked at her in surprise.

"Off-duty time," she reminded him, "Go home."

Skinner sighed and glanced down at the folder he had been reading
when he dozed off.

It was the latest 'leads' on Mulder's whereabouts.

'Leads' that had gone nowhere.  Each checked off in red ink.

She reached over, closed the folder, and gently laid her hand on his.

His gaze raised to hers.

"Let it go for a while.  Go home and try to get some rest."  Her hand
caressed his with a barely perceptible movement.

"You'll find him."

He stood and moved very close to her.

"I still have to eat dinner.  I was wondering if you'd care to join
me...KIM."

"I'd love to," she heard herself mutter.

She closed her eyes as he leaned into her.  She felt his breath on
her face.

"Sir, I'm glad you're still here. I-"

Scully's voice stopped abruptly as Kimberly and Skinner practically
jumped out of their skins.

She took in their proximity and their guilty expressions and put two
and two together.

*Skinner and Kimberly.  Well.*

Scully felt the first smile in weeks forming on her face and
repressed it.

*He deserves to be happy.*

"Nevermind, sir.  It can wait until morning," Scully said as she
practically backpedaled out of the room.

The door clicked softly shut as she left.

Skinner and Kimberly stood for a moment, each slightly flushed.

"Well," Skinner tried.

"At least it wasn't Transon," Kimberly joked.

The two laughed uneasily at the thought of the rumor-mongering agent
walking in on them.

"Scully won't breathe a word of this to anyone," Skinner said, "but
we should be more careful at work."

She nodded.

"So, we are officially a 'we' then," she stated, trying not to smile.

He cleared his throat.

"Are you eating dinner with me or not?" He said mock gruffly.

"Sure," she let herself smile then, "let's go."

He gathered his things and followed her out the door.

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