By ML
msnsc21@aol.com
 

Distribution: Ephemeral, Gossamer, and IWTB, yes; if you've archived
my stories before, yes; if not, please just drop me a line so I
can come visit, and keep my name and email attached. Thanks.
Spoilers: through Existence
Rating: PG-13
Keywords: Skinner POV
Summary:  The groves of academe beckon

Disclaimer:  The characters described in this story do not belong
to me.  They are the property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen, and
Fox Broadcasting, not to mention the actors who portray them.  I
mean no infringement and I am making no profit from this.
 

Skinman on Campus
by ML

It's been some years since he's set foot on a college campus,
and he's struck by how young everyone looks.  Was he ever that
young?  Skinner doubts it.

When Mulder called him, out of the blue, to ask if he'd be a
guest lecturer for his psychology class, Skinner had been very
surprised.  He hasn't seen Mulder much since the baby was born.
He hasn't even seen Scully much, though she's been back at
Quantico for a couple of months.  He feels awkward about the
whole business with Kersh and how it was handled, though he's
pretty sure that neither Mulder nor Scully blames him at all.
They don't have to; he blames himself.

It's been a long time since he's really enjoyed his work.  Once
in a while, he savored a small victory, he felt like he'd scored
one for the good guys.  But lately, it's been nothing but
paperwork, and meetings with Kersh.  He wonders if he'll ever
feel like he's made a difference again.  Maybe it's not too
soon to think of retirement.

Once he had more ambition than he does now.  Deputy Director,
even Director of the FBI.  Now he knows that the next time an
opportunity arises, he will no longer be on the short list of
candidates.  In fact, he should face up to it, it's been years
since he's been on any list but the shit list.

He hates to admit it, but he misses arguing with Mulder, misses
his wise-ass comments and his cavalier attitude toward everything
but Scully, and the X-Files.  He has found himself heading for
the basement, or picking up the phone to call Mulder about
something, only to remember that he's no longer there.

Agent Doggett is a fine agent, doing his best with an assignment
he doesn't understand and barely believes in.  Agent Doggett is
the kind of guy he could have a drink with, shoot the shit, talk
sports with.  In fact, once or twice he's done just that, when
he's found himself down in the basement.  But he's not Mulder,
and he will never give Skinner a run for his money the way Mulder
did.  Skinner didn't expect to miss that, but he does.

He accepted Mulder's invitation to speak, though he wonders why
it's been offered.  He figures he'll find out, in due time.
When Mulder is ready to tell him.  That's his usual MO.

Skinner figures it must be between classes by the number of
students milling about.  Shoals of them surge and eddy around
him.  They part for him and re-form into a solid mass after he
passes.  He feels like he must be going in the wrong direction,
so few people are going his way.  It's like swimming upstream.

He spies Mulder standing outside the psych building, talking to
a student.  Mulder could almost be mistaken for a graduate
student himself.  He's dressed in jeans and a pullover sweater.
His glasses flash in the pale spring sunlight as he turns to
smile at Skinner.

"Thanks, Dr. Mulder," the young woman says -- are they still
called coeds? Skinner wonders -- as he walks up to them.

"No problem, Kelli," Mulder says to her.  "See you in class."
Mulder then turns his attention to Skinner.  "Hey, Skinman!
How's it going?"

"Don't call me that," Skinner growls as he watches the young
woman walk away from them slowly, almost crabwise, her eyes
still on Mulder until a bicyclist almost takes her out.  He
nods toward her.  "One of your students?"

Mulder nods back.  "Yeah."  He opens the door to the building
and steps aside to let Skinner enter first.

A wave of nostalgia washes over Skinner as he enters.  No matter
how long it's been, the inside of these buildings smell and look
the same.  Stale sweat, stale coffee, chalk dust (though he doubts
anyone uses chalkboards anymore).  Ink, paper, that musty
undefinable smell of higher education.  Cracked linoleum below,
chipped acoustical tile above, and flickering fluorescent lights.
Bulletin boards all but smothered by multicolored flyers touting
school events and safe sex, side by side.

Skinner shakes it off.  "How's Ag-Dana?" he asks a little awkwardly.
It's hard to get used to calling Dana Scully by her given name, and
he will never call her "Scully," as Mulder does.  It sounds much
too intimate to his ears.

"Agent Dana's doing just fine," Mulder says with a knowing grin
and a raised eyebrow.  "You can ask her yourself later.  She's
joining us for lunch."  They've arrived at Mulder's office.
"She's writing a book, did she tell you?"

Skinner shakes his head.  Mulder probably knows without being
told by him that he's barely talked to Dana lately.  "What's it
about?"

"Scientific analysis of paranormal phenomena.  I swear, *she*
should be the academic, with titles like that.  We have a little
friendly competition going on, to see who gets published first."

"Are you writing on the same subject?"  Skinner asks.

"As if!" Mulder chortles.  Skinner can't remember ever hearing
Mulder laugh like that, or using that phrase.  "I'm writing a
novel about two investigators of the paranormal, loosely based
on some of the cases Scully and I investigated.  I've already
got a publisher interested.  Could work into a series of novels."

"What does the University think of this?"

"Since I'm using a pseudonym, they don't have to know," Mulder
winked.  "Scully thinks it's cheating."  Mulder raises a coffee
mug to Skinner.  "Want some coffee?"

Skinner accepts a mug and Mulder pours himself one, sitting down
and leaning back in his desk chair with a sigh.  "Ah, academia.
The last bastion of crackpots and idealists."

Skinner looks around the cluttered office as they sip their
coffee.  Though the pictures and charts are different, it reminds
him of the office Mulder used to occupy in the Hoover Building.

"Do you miss it?"  Skinner asks Mulder suddenly.

"Miss the FBI?" Mulder appears to give it a few moments' thought.
"Miss the bureaucracy, the politics, the gossip, rumors,
backbiting?  Not really."  He takes a sip of his coffee.
"Why, is Kersh asking for me?"

Skinner almost chokes on his coffee.  "You know the answer to
that one," he says.

"Oh yeah," Mulder says.  "Anyway, anything I had at the FBI, on
the aforementioned list, I've got here.  Minus Alvin Kersh, of
course."

"Well, I suppose you can't have everything," Skinner assents.
"So you're saying higher education is a shark-infested pool?"

"Pretty much," Mulder says.  "I'm just as good at pissing people
off here as I ever was at the FBI.  The difference being, here
I'm a popular professor, which translates into dollars for the
school, which cuts me some slack.  Wish I'd had that knack at
the FBI."  He looks at his watch.  "We'd better head over to
the lecture hall.  Thanks again for coming today."

"Thanks for asking me,"  Skinner replies.  He picks up his
briefcase and follows Mulder out of the office.

Skinner doesn't want to admit it, but he's a little nervous
to be talking in front of these students.  Mulder told him it
was a survey class, and one of his most popular, but what do
these students care about the history of criminal psychological
profiling at the FBI?  Especially from him.  He feels out of
his element and conspicuous in his suit and tie.  He hasn't seen
one person wearing anything more businesslike than a sportcoat
and an Oxford shirt.

Mulder, on the other hand, is clearly in his element.  The
amphitheater style lecture hall is crammed with students, all
of whom appear to be talking at once.  As Mulder approaches
the front of the room, however, the noise level sinks almost
instantly to a low murmur.  He looks so at ease in front of
the crowd.  He works them like an opening act, and they pay
him the compliment of silence as he speaks.  Especially,
Skinner notices, the row of pretty young women in the front
row.  He recognizes Kelli as one of them.  Mulder has groupies,
Skinner realizes with amazement.

Mulder finishes his introduction of Skinner with a flourish and
leads the smattering of polite applause as Skinner takes the
podium.

The applause is stronger as he finishes the formal part of his
lecture and opens the floor to Q and A.  After a slow start,
Skinner is gratified by the well-thought-out questions some
of the students ask.  He hopes they're not plants, put there
by Mulder to avoid embarrassing silences.  Despite his initial
nervousness, he is finding this an enjoyable experience after
all.  The time passes very quickly and before he knows it, the
class is over.

"You're a natural at this, Skinman," Mulder compliments him as
the students file out.  One or two approach to shake Skinner's
hand or to ask another question, among them Kelli, who
unaccountably looks at Skinner the same way she looked at
Mulder earlier that morning.  Skinner feels half-embarrassed,
half-flattered.

Mulder has noticed, too.  He leans in to Skinner as Kelli leaves
the room.  "Smart is sexy," he murmurs.

At last the hall has cleared out and Mulder looks at his watch
again.  "Scully should be here any minute,"  he says.  "She was
going to try and catch your lecture, but Will doesn't always
cooperate."

They stand outside the hall and enjoy the mild air, watching
the students hurry past.  Skinner can't stand it any more, and
he turns to Mulder.

"Mulder, you know you could have delivered that lecture as well
as me -- better, in fact, given your experience," Skinner says.
"Did you have another reason for asking me to come today?"

"To be honest with you, yes," Mulder says surprisingly.  No blank
looks or beating about the bush for once.  "I've been gone from
the FBI for almost a year now.  Scully's been back at Quantico
for about six months.  Yet she tells me that she never sees you,
hardly ever hears from you.  She misses you."  He waits a beat
before continuing.  "To be honest, the only thing I miss about
the FBI, other than working with Scully, is pissing you off
regularly.  So I thought I'd give it a shot."

"Give what a shot, Mulder?"  Skinner hopes it's not asking him
to get reinstated at the FBI.

Mulder looks uncomfortable and a little embarrassed.  "It was
Scully's idea, but we both ... just ... well, we wanted you to
know that we both consider you a good friend, and we didn't want
you to drift away."

Skinner is completely blindsided by this admission, and is
utterly speechless.

Mulder grins again.  "Sounds pretty juvenile, doesn't it?  I
shoulda let Scully try to explain it at lunch.  She's better
at this stuff than I'll ever be."

Skinner finally finds his voice.  "It's an honor to be considered
your friend, Mulder," he says very quietly, not looking directly
at Mulder.

He glances over and sees that Mulder is looking ahead, not at him.
"The honor is mine, Sir," he returns softly.  "And Scully's."
His voice takes on a normal tone.  "Speaking of which, there she
is, with the Babe Magnet."

Sure enough, he sees Scully less than fifty yards away, pushing a
baby stroller.  Mulder's description of Will is apt; several young
women say hello to Scully and lean down to talk to Will, which
is probably why she's a little late.

She's not a moment too soon, Skinner thinks.  Any more of this,
and I'll start blubbering.  Or Mulder will. I don't know which
would be more frightening.

Mulder has stepped forward to greet Scully.  He leans into her,
just the way he always has, but now he kisses her instead of just
looking like he wishes he could.  It's no little peck, either.
Skinner still can't get used to public displays of affection
between these two.  It feels like spying.  At least, that's what
he attributes his uncomfortable feeling to.

Mulder leans down to say hello to his son and Scully greets
Skinner.  "I'm glad you could join us for lunch, Sir," she says
with a smile.  That's another thing he has trouble getting used
to.  Scully smiling just because.  And smiling at him, no less.

"Don't you think it's time you called me Walter?" he says gruffly
to her.  "Both of you?"

Mulder looks up from Will.  "He figured it out, Scully.  And he
didn't kick my ass."

Scully rolls her eyes.  "Mulder, if that's Will's first word--"

Mulder looks up at her, devils in his eyes.  "Nag, nag, nag.
Next you'll be telling me to stop drinking out of the carton."

"Mul-der!"  Scully looks exasperated.

Mulder starts to stand up.  "Come on, Scully, we'll be late for
lunch, and you know they won't hold the reservation."

Skinner holds his hand out to help Mulder out of his crouch beside
the stroller.  "Thanks, Walter," he says easily, as though he's
been saying it for years.

"My pleasure," Skinner says.  He walks alongside Dana as Mulder
pushes the stroller along on her other side.  He feels happier
than he has for some time.

"Hey Walter," Mulder says casually as they arrive at the car.
He notices that it's a good-sized SUV, with the required baby
seat in the back.  "Have you ever given any thought to retiring
from the FBI and maybe teaching?"

Skinner smiles.  "Think you're willing to take the chance, Mulder?"

"Chance of what?"  Mulder asks.

"That I'll become department head, and you'll have to answer to
me again," Skinner says.

"What if I make department head first, and you have to answer to
me?"  Mulder says, and all three of them laugh at this.

"Yeah, that'll happen," Scully says.

"Ouch, Scully," Mulder laughs.  "Not in front of the baby.  What
will he think of me?  Wait, don't answer."

Will is looking up at them both, wide-eyed, a big grin on his face.
He must be used to this by now.

Skinner folds himself into the back seat with Will, content to sit
with him and listen to Mulder and Scully (which is how he will
always privately think of them) trade quips.

Skinner looks down at Will and back at his two former favorite
agents.  Oh yeah, I've missed this, he thinks.  Maybe I *should*
consider a career change.  Now *there's* an extreme possibility.

end.
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
 

Skinman 2: Courtside Seats
By ML
msnsc21@aol.com
 

7/4/01
Distribution:  Yes to the usual gang of suspects (and you know who
you are!), but if you haven't archived my stories before, please
drop me a line and let me know, and leave headers, etc. attached.
I thank you!
Spoilers: If you've seen the S8 finale, no surprises. Little
references to past season eps here and there.
Rating: PG-13 (can't get the guys to stop swearing!)
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: Skinner POV
Summary:  Skinner has a little glimpse into the Mulder-Scully
family.

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris
Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting.  I am using them only
for recreational purposes, mean no infringement, making no money.

Author's notes:  This is a continuation of a story I started in
"Skinman on Campus."  If you haven't read that one, you might
want to before reading this one.  More notes at end.

Skinman 2: Courtside Seats
by ML

He is early.  Not much of a surprise, really.  Skinner is nearly
always early, a habit instilled in him by his military training,
one that he's never tried to break.

Mulder, of course, is late, and this is no surprise, either.
Mulder was seldom on time for meetings while at the FBI, though
he somehow always managed to be Johnny-on-the-spot when Scully
needed him.

Not too many minutes later, he sees the SUV pull up with Scully
in the driver's seat.  Mulder is in the back, presumably sitting
next to Will.  Skinner sees him lean down to either speak to or
kiss his son, then lean over the front seat to do the same to
Scully.  It makes a nice picture of a family, any family, on any
Saturday morning.  He feels a tiny surge of envy but suppresses
it.  If anyone has earned a normal life, it's these two.

Skinner looks away until he hears the car door slam and he looks up
to see Mulder, still standing by the driver's window.  Another
word, another kiss, and he bounds toward Skinner's car.

Skinner gets out and raises a hand to the vehicle.  He thinks he
sees Scully wave back through the glass before she drives away.

Mulder's dressed in the rattiest shorts and sweatshirt Skinner has
ever seen.  He's carrying a gym bag in one hand and a basketball
in the other.  Skinner feels a little too spit and polished next
to Mulder, even though he's just dressed in track pants and a nylon
jacket over his shorts and tee shirt.

"Hey, Skinman," Mulder calls, and Skinner winces.  He tries not to
rise to the bait, on the theory that Mulder will get bored with
calling him that if Skinner doesn't react to it.  So far it isn't
working, but Skinner figures it's bound to, sooner or later.

Since his guest lecture for Mulder's class at the University,
Skinner has gone to dinner at Mulder and Scully's once, and taken
them to dinner once.  They don't see each other all that often;
the get-togethers take place at intervals of several weeks.
Mulder calls fairly often, and even Scully has done so once or
twice.  Skinner is learning that it is okay to just call to say
hello or to tell them an interesting bit of news.  He's never
been given the impression that he's calling at a bad time, or
that his calls are unwelcome.  Still, he feels a little awkward.
He senses Mulder's awkwardness, too, and suspects that Scully was
the catalyst for the initial contact.  Mulder as much as said so
on that first day, though he seems genuinely interested in
friendship with Skinner, too.

This is the first time Skinner and Mulder have done something
together without Scully there, too.  Over the years, Skinner
has observed that Scully often acted as a buffer for Mulder
against the outside world, and wonders if she's been fulfilling
that same function between him and Mulder.  It strikes him that
he and Mulder have a lot in common.  They both tended to be loners
and had few close friends.

"What are Dana and Will up to today?" Skinner asks as they enter
the gym.

"Visiting Scully's mom, and probably shopping or something,"
Mulder says.  They enter the basketball court and see that there
are already three guys horsing around in a little one-on-one-on-one.
The guys notice Mulder and Skinner standing in the doorway and they
stop their play.

It's interesting to Skinner to see Mulder in this context.  He's
loose-limbed and entirely at ease in this environment.  He greets
the players already on the court, who seem to have at least a
nodding acquaintance with Mulder.

"Hey Milk," one of the men says.  "I see you brought back-up.
Tired of having your ass whipped?"

"No, seeing that it hasn't happened yet," Mulder replies with a
grin.  Handshakes all around as Skinner is introduced, and it is
quickly decided that Mulder and Skinner will take on Toby, Kendrick,
and Jamal.

Skinner strips off his track suit and puts it on top of his gym
bag in the corner next to Mulder's.  Basketball has never been
Skinner's game; he's always preferred boxing.  But Mulder invited
him, and he hadn't wanted to turn him down.

There's a lot of trash-talking during the course of the game.
Skinner's not much help with this.  He's never been one to talk
just to hear his own voice.  Mulder, however, is a virtuoso of
quips and comebacks.  And his hands and feet are almost as quick
as his mouth.

Skinner finds that he and Mulder work pretty well together on the
court.  They play a pretty good game against the three, who
obviously spend a lot more time on the court than either Skinner
or Mulder, and are probably at least ten years younger than Mulder.
Skinner concentrates on guarding Mulder when he has the ball, and
otherwise assisting.  He's absurdly pleased when he actually makes
a basket during a free throw.

At first, it appears that they might play to a draw, but eventually
numbers and age take their toll and Mulder and Skinner concede
defeat.  A little more trash-talking ensues as handshakes are
exchanged all around and then Mulder shows Skinner where the
showers are.

"Hey, Skinman, you got game," Mulder compliments him as they wash
up and change.

"It's been a while," Skinner admits, but it pleases him that Mulder
says that.  At least he didn't embarrass himself.

"Wanna go get a beer?"  Mulder asks as they leave the gym.  Skinner
figures this is part of the plan for the day, and he readily agrees.
It's Saturday, after all, and what else would he do besides go home
and watch whatever game is on TV?

Mulder directs him to a sports bar/pizza parlor not far away.  He
seems to be known here, too, as a couple of people greet him as
they walk in.

Mulder buys the first round, and Skinner gets the popcorn from the
machine by the bar.  They  drink in silence for a while.  Skinner
looks up at one of the many TVs ranged around the walls, trying to
identify who's playing whom.

"So, have they closed the X-Files division down yet?"  Mulder asks
suddenly.  He could be making a joke, but Skinner takes it as a
serious question.

"Not yet," Skinner says.  "Kersh has been laying off it lately.
Might have something to do with his connection with Knowle Rohrer
and Agent Bates."

"You might want to get in touch with the Gunmen," Mulder tells him.
"They told me some stuff the other day that you and Doggett might
find useful."

"Thanks for the tip, Mulder," Skinner says.  "Doggett says he got
a call from Byers the other day.  Did you tell him to call?"

"Well, I left a message for Agent Doggett but I didn't think he'd
follow up with it.  The information could be significant, and I
can't do anything with it."

"What about Dana?" Skinner knows she's not supposed to have anything
official to do with the X-Files, but she has been known to help
Agents Doggett and Reyes out on occasion.

"Scully actually suggested that I get Doggett to go visit the Gunmen,
but it might be better if you took him," Mulder explains.  "I don't
want Scully to get in too deep with this, either.  Our deal is that
we both keep out of active involvement."

"You miss the work, don't you?"  Skinner asks.  It's so obvious.

"Well, yeah," Mulder admits.  "But Scully and I have talked about
this.  A lot.  Right now, Will has to be the focus of our lives.
Running all over the countryside doesn't fit in with that equation.
But we keep up with what's going on as best we can."

Skinner shakes his head and smiles into his beer.

"What?"  Mulder asks.

"Mulder, it's just that this is the last thing I would have seen
you doing."

"Believe me, it's the last thing I saw myself doing, too," Mulder
pauses for a long moment and sips his beer reflectively.  "Scully
never made it a secret that she hoped some day to have a normal
life.  For a long time, I didn't think that normal life would
include me.  Unlike Scully I never expected it, and frankly, I'd
convinced myself that I didn't want it."

Both men are quiet.  Skinner is not going to say anything to break
Mulder's confessional mood.  He senses the other man has needed to
talk about this for a long time, and he's immensely moved that
Mulder has decided to confide in him.

Mulder continues.  "I didn't have the best example of a happy home
life, you know.  So I just waited for the day when Scully would
come to me and tell me she'd found someone, and she was leaving me."

Mulder is staring straight ahead as he speaks.  Skinner's not sure
what he's seeing, but his voice and expression are as bleak as they
would be if his words had come true.

"I tried to convince Scully a couple of times that she should quit,
get as far away from me as she could.  But she stayed."  He smiles
a little now, but it's not a very happy smile.  "I'm still not sure
why."

"Mulder, is there something wrong between you and Dana?"  Skinner
hates to ask, but there's obviously something troubling the other
man.

"No, it's not Scully.  It's me," Mulder explains.  There are long
silences between his words as he struggles to express himself.

"I just keep thinking that some time I'm going to wake up and find
myself strapped down aboard the ship again ... or in an operating
room ... and find that I've dreamed this life.  That I still don't
have Scully, that there is no Will."

Skinner is beginning to feel out of his depth.  Is Mulder suffering
from post-traumatic stress?  Is Scully aware of this?  He keeps
quiet for the moment.

"It happened that way before," Mulder continues.  "I dreamed a
normal life for myself, though it wasn't with Scully.  I had the
love of a woman, I had kids, a house, everything.  I knew while it
was happening that something wasn't right, but it wasn't until
Scully came to rescue me that I knew it for sure.

"When the aliens had me, it was the same.  I dreamed of another
life.  I dreamed of Scully, and it probably kept me alive longer
than I would have lived otherwise.  When I first woke up in the
hospital, I wasn't sure what part was the dream:  Scully, or being
on board the alien ship."  He gulps his beer.  "Or that maybe, I
was still in the operating theater, dying."

He's tracing patterns in spilled beer on the tabletop.  "I know
how upset Scully was when I first came back and I seemed so
distant to her, and to everyone else.  I just couldn't quite
believe what had happened to me.  I kept looking for the trap
door, for Cancerman behind the curtain, for everyone to melt
into green goo.  Sometimes I wake up expecting to find myself
strapped in that fucking chair again."

Definitely post-traumatic stress, Skinner thinks.  He asks,
"Does Dana know about this?  Are you seeing anyone for it?"

"Yeah, to both," Mulder says.  "Look, I don't mean to burden you
with all of this.  I know why I feel this way, we just haven't
figured out yet how to make it stop.  Maybe it won't ever stop."

"I don't think you can let yourself think that, Mulder," Skinner
tells him.  "I have some experience with post-traumatic stress.
Do you remember a story I told you, a long time ago?"

Mulder finally looks up at him and nods slowly.  Skinner  thinks
that maybe Mulder had forgotten that story, told so long ago, at
another crisis point in his life.  Maybe he just hadn't absorbed
its full impact at that time.  So much more has happened to all
of them since then.

Skinner goes on, carefully.  "I told you that I didn't want to
look beyond that experience, and it's true, in a sense.  But I
did finally seek professional help."

When he did, it was too late to save his marriage to Sharon, but
at least it finally helped him to sleep nights.

"It will get better, Mulder," Skinner tells him.  "Sometimes it
takes a long time, but it will get better.  I'm sure Dana has told
you the same thing."  He chooses his next words carefully and says
them slowly, as if he could snatch them back if Mulder's reaction
is bad.  "I don't mean to pry, but she has to have had some similar
reactions to her own experiences?"

Mulder merely nods.  "Yeah, in fact we made a pact that if I went
in for therapy, she had to, too.  It's really awful when we both
have nightmares, and then Will has one, as well.  In fact, I've
begun to wonder if ours set his off, sometimes."  Mulder shakes
his head.  "Some normal life, huh?"

"It's what I said before, Mulder," Skinner tells him.  "It's just
life."  He signals for another round.  "It's what you make of it,"
he adds.

Mulder nods.  His expression looks a little lighter.  "Thanks," he
says quietly.

"Don't mention it," Skinner replies.  After a couple of minutes,
they start to rehash that afternoon's game, and somber atmosphere
dissipates.  But Skinner feels like he's been let into the closed
circle just a little.

Later, when Skinner drives Mulder home, Mulder asks him in to say
hello to Scully.

Wonderful cooking smells assail them as they enter the house.
Mulder sniffs appreciatively.  "Mama Scully must be cooking."

"Well, you're half right," Scully laughs as she comes out of the
kitchen.  They can hear Will in the background, banging a pot lid
or something with great gusto.  "*My* Mama Scully cooked, and she
sent it home with me."  She turns to kiss Mulder and then kisses
Skinner on the cheek.  "You got here just in time.  Can you stay
to dinner, Walter?  There's a ton of food."

"I'd love to," he says.  No one would ever know, looking at these
two, what they've been through.  He supposes it's the same with
him.  Who would know what any of them has been through?  It's a
good thing that their experiences have left no visible scars; they
would all look like Frankenstein's Monster.

"How was the game?"  Scully asks Mulder.

Mulder looks over at Skinner.  "We kicked ass," he says.

"Or got yours kicked?" Scully asks, one eyebrow arched.  She
smiles.  "Doesn't matter, as long as you had a good time."

"I think we did," Mulder says, and Skinner nods this time.

"Yeah, I think we did," he agrees.

"You must have gone to Bud's afterwards," Scully says.

"How well you know me, Scully," Mulder grins.  "Cheap beer,
free popcorn, and all the sports you can stand."

"Yeah, but I still thought you'd be back before this.  Did you just
drink beer and watch TV all afternoon?"

"Is there anything wrong with that?"  Mulder teases her.  "We had
important guy stuff to talk about."

"Sounds like a great afternoon," Scully says dryly.

"To each his own, Scully.  Bet you spent the afternoon at the
mall, or looking at catalogues with your mom."

"I fail to see the connection," Scully says with a twinkle in her
eye.  This must be a familiar conversation.

Skinner excuses himself and goes into the kitchen to say hello to
Will, who looks up and crows with delight when he sees Skinner.

Okay, so maybe the picture isn't as perfect as it seems, Skinner
thinks, but it's still pretty good.

end.
=====
Author's notes:  Yeah, I was going to have more of the Babe Magnet
in this one, but I thought that Skinner and Mulder had to have a
little more male bonding before Mulder hands The Boy over to his
Unca Skinman for the afternoon!

Since I got so many nice requests that I continue the story I
started in "Skinman on Campus," I thought I'd see if I can't turn
this into a series.  If you like, let me know! msnsc21@aol.com

I wrote this one because, as much as we all might wish it for
them, it's not going to be entirely happy-ever-after for any of
these folks.  But I hope to leaven the angst with more happiness
than they've had so far.  I know they all have to still be suffering
the after effects of everything they've gone through.  But they're
dealing with it <g>.
 
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
 

Skinman 3:  A Walk in the Park
by ML
msnsc21@aol.com
 

7/18/01
Distribution:  Yes to Ephemeral, Gossamer, IWTB, or if you've archived me before.
If you haven't, please drop me a line and let me know, and leave headers, etc. attached.
Thank you!
Spoilers: If you've seen the S8 finale, no surprises.
Rating: PG (`cuz little pitchers have big ears)
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: Skinner POV
Summary:  Skinner spends some time with the Babe Magnet

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting.  I am using them only for recreational purposes, mean no infringement, making no money.  One character in here isn't theirs; but this one's not really mine either, but an "amalgam" loosely based on some people I know and admire.

For my dear friends on the IWTB list.  Thanks for your encouragement.
 

Skinman 3: A Walk in the Park
by ML

Skinner knocks on the door at precisely 11:45 AM.  He feels like he's about to meet a blind date.  Maybe that would actually be easier than this.

The truth is, he's never baby-sat before, and the whole idea makes him extremely nervous.  Why on earth are Scully and Mulder trusting him with Will?

When Scully called him the night before, she sounded pretty much at her wit's end.

"Mom's sick and she doesn't want to infect Will, so the alternative is that I stay home," she explained.  "But  it's important to Mulder that I go with him to this."

The President of the university was having an afternoon party to celebrate the end of the school year.  This was an annual event and it had been made very clear that all faculty, along with spouses, were expected to attend.  Only the most dire of reasons would excuse attendance.

Mulder is finally trying to learn how to play nice with others.  He got on the extension and added his request to Scully's.

"You'll have fun with the Babe Magnet," Mulder said persuasively.  "He doesn't need much.  A dry diaper and a bottle and he's a happy guy."

Skinner guesses the alternative is the Lone Gunmen, and he's sure Scully's not ready for that.  She's heard something about how they took care of the last baby left on their hands.

Skinner usually finds a way to give Mulder and Scully what they ask for, and at least this request won't involve dealing with any shady characters, or costly bargaining.

At least, he's pretty sure it won't.  With Mulder and Scully, you can never tell.  They seldom refer to the idea that Will is in any danger, but Skinner knows they take a lot of precautions.  They never leave Will with a baby sitter; if Scully's mom isn't available, Will goes with one of them.

Mulder's nickname for Will, "The Babe Magnet," came from Mulder carrying him around campus between classes.  Mulder has always claimed that his popularity with the female portion of the student body has nothing to do with his own personal charm; Will is the center of attention whenever he's with Mulder.  In fact, Mulder once complained good-naturedly to Scully, if Will wasn't with him, he had a hard time even getting a bus to stop for him.

The door opens almost before Skinner can knock.  Mulder stands there, bare-footed and dressed in a white tee shirt and gray sweatpants.  "Hey Walter, right on time," he says, standing aside to let Skinner enter.

Will sits in the middle of the living room floor, staring avidly at something on television.  Mulder swings him up into his arms and turns back to Skinner.

"Will, look who's here," Mulder holds Will face out against his chest, supporting him with one arm under his bottom and one around his middle.  Will kicks his legs out and smiles at Skinner.

"Hey, Will's learned a new word," Mulder says, turning Will around to look him in the eye.  "What d'ya say, Will?  Feel like showing off a little?"

Will smiles at his dad and bounces in his arms a little.

"C'mon, Will, who's that?"  Mulder turns Will again and points at Skinner.

Will grins a huge, gap-toothed grin.  "Dinman!"  He says happily as he bounces in Mulder's arms.  "Dinman!  Dinman!"

Skinner groans inwardly.  He should have known.  "Very funny, Mulder," he grumbles, but he can't help but smile at Will's obvious glee.

"Mulder?  Are you ready to go?"  Scully comes out to the living room.  She looks adorable in a sky blue sleeveless dress.  Her feet are still bare, too.  She smiles as she sees Skinner, and comes forward to give first Will a kiss, and then Skinner.

He feels the brief brush of her lips on his cheek, smells the perfume she's wearing.  He misses female companionship, he realizes.  He's missed it for a long time, but seeing Mulder and Scully together, happy, makes him more aware of what he's lost, and what he's missing.

Not that he's jealous, not really.  He knows how much these two deserve each other, and what a long, hard road they traveled to get here.  They still have obstacles to overcome, and probably more danger, too, but at least neither is alone any longer.

He wonders if he's destined to always travel his road alone.  What must it be like to have a soul mate?

Lately he's been thinking about Sharon quite a lot, wondering if things might have been different if they'd been able to have kids.

"I'll be ready in five minutes," Mulder says.  He says to Skinner,  "Bond with the Little Guy for a bit, okay?"  He hands Will over to Skinner and bounds out of the living room.  Scully smiles and says,  "I'll be right back," and follows Mulder down the hall.

Skinner sits on the sofa and lets Will put his sticky hands on his glasses, in his ears, all over his face.

When Scully told him she was pregnant, and it appeared that she would be facing at least part of her pregnancy alone, he'd started doing a little research, reading up about the stages of pregnancy, things to look out for.  Not that he felt Scully wouldn't take care of herself, but he wanted to be ready to offer his assistance if she ever asked.

She never did.  Whether through stubbornness or fear, she kept her own counsel until Mulder came back.  Then, Skinner figured that Mulder would assume his rightful role as father-to-be and would be there for Scully.

Skinner was ready to kick Mulder's ass when he seemed to show doubts as to the paternity of the child.

As it turned out, Mulder's fears had less to do with paternity than they did with Others who thought they had some claim to the baby.  Skinner's still not sure what happened in Democrat Hot Springs, but Mulder as usual got there in the nick of time.

Mulder and Scully have been practically inseparable ever since.  At least, Skinner assumes this.  Scully took the maximum amount of leave she could before returning to part time duty at Quantico, and Mulder began teaching at about the same time.  He knows this because he got a call, asking for a personal reference.  He was touched that Mulder would give his name, but then thought that there were probably only a few people whose name Mulder could give as a reference.  He grimaces to think what Kersh would have said upon receiving such a call.

In any event, except for a thank you call from Mulder telling him about his appointment to a teaching position, Skinner heard nothing for a long time.  He hardly heard from Scully, either, and felt it was probably for the best.  They all needed to move on.  As a result, he made no effort to contact either of them.  Then, out of the blue, Mulder called and asked him to speak to one of his classes.

Since then, little by little, Mulder and Scully have let him into their lives.  It gives Skinner something he hasn't experienced since his marriage ended, and frankly hadn't for a while before the divorce.  He is beginning to feel like part of a family again.

Scully comes back out to the living room, ready to go.  "You really don't mind doing this?"  she asks doubtfully.

"No, not at all," Skinner reassures her.  "As long as you're okay with it."

Scully smiles at him.  "I can't think of anyone I'd trust Will with more," she says.  "Do you know how to change him, and where all the supplies are?"

Skinner has spent a couple of Saturday afternoons with Mulder and Will, and he's seen the routine a number of times.  He's not really worried about that part of it.  He nods.  "Yeah, I think so."

"Let me show you again, just in case," Scully says, and he carries Will as she shows him where everything is.

Scully gives him all the last-minute instructions about Will she can think of, then Mulder repeats them all when he comes back out.  Skinner is shown the paper with all the emergency numbers on it, the address of the house where they're going, where the diapers are, how long to warm up the milk, Will's favorite juice, and so on.  There's only one thing not on the list.

"What do I do with him?" Skinner asks Mulder.  "How do I, you know, keep him happy?  Entertain him?"

"Hey, what do guys do on a Saturday afternoon?"  Mulder shrugs.  "You know, the usual.  Sit around in your underwear and watch the game.  Go to the park and play catch.  Pick up chicks."

Except for the last suggestion, that's pretty much what they've done when they've been left in charge of Will for the afternoon.  He's just not sure what Will's reaction will be, left alone with him, and he wants some kind of reassurance.

"I think Will's a little young for the last two activities," Skinner says.  "And I'm too old.  At least for the latter."

Mulder smiles.  "Never say never, Walter.  And as for Will--"  He takes Will back from Skinner for a moment.  "I told you.  Guaranteed babe magnet.  You'll have to beat `em off with a stick."

Will grins at Skinner.  Skinner doesn't think he's ever seen the baby in a bad mood.  How did two such morose people have such a happy child?  Mulder hands him back and Will grabs a handful of Skinner's shirt and hitches himself up to grab at Skinner's glasses.

At last, Mulder and Scully seem to satisfied that they've told Skinner everything they can.

"We're only about fifteen minutes away," Scully says.  "If you have any questions or need anything, just give us a call."

"We probably won't stay too late," Mulder adds.  "As long as we aren't the last to arrive and the first to leave."

"That sounds very calculating, Mulder," Skinner says.

"Oh yeah," Mulder says.  "Down to the minute.  Just because I'm a professor and look respectable, doesn't mean I consider this a great way to spend Saturday afternoon.  Believe me, I'd much rather be here with you guys."

Scully says, "Well, come on, Mr. Important College Professor, let's get moving.  The sooner we go--"

"--the sooner we can come back," he finishes for her.  "And that's `Dr. Important *University* Professor' to you, Dr. Scully."

Scully kisses both Will and Skinner goodbye, and Mulder kisses Will, making a kissy-face at Skinner.  "Have fun, dudes," he says.  "Will, keep an eye on the Skinman for me, `kay?"

Will says, "Dinman!" agreeably, and watches his parents go out the door without making a fuss.

Skinner sits on the sofa and holds his little charge in his lap, where he sits and tries to cram all his toes into his mouth.

"Well, Will," Skinner says to him.  "What do you want to do?"

"Gah!" Will says, and turns his attention back to his toes.

Skinner finds the remote and looks for a game to watch.

In less than an hour, it's clear that Skinner alone isn't enough entertainment for Will.  Skinner sits on the floor with him, offering toy after toy which Will accepts, examines, and flings away impatiently.  Skinner can see the clouds gathering in his eyes, and he really doesn't want to see Will cry.

Finally, in desperation, he says, "Will, do you want to go to the park?"

"Pock!" says Will happily, the clouds dispersing like they've never been.

It takes Skinner another twenty minutes to gather everything he thinks might be necessary for this expedition.  When he's gone with Mulder and Will to the park, Mulder slings a backpack over one shoulder, and Will over the other, and they go.  But Skinner wants the security of knowing whatever he might need is at his fingertips.  Mulder might be practiced at improvising with Will, but he isn't.

He loads up the stroller with everything he can think of.  There's barely room for Will, and he has to rethink some of the necessities, with Will getting antsier by the minute.  Finally they are ready to go.

As Skinner wheels Will into the park, he cases it.  It's a small neighborhood park on a quiet street.  The grounds are neat and well-kept, but it's too open, too many ways for someone to come along and grab a kid.  It's a tactical nightmare, impossible to control.  His eyes sweep the perimeter.  He sees the public restroom at the far end, and watches closely for any suspicious looking types who might be loitering there.

Everything looks calm and normal.  Kids everywhere, on the swings, the slide, the sandbox...

...there's too much going on for Skinner to keep track of.  What a stupid idea to take Will to the park.  What was he thinking?

Will is squirming, he wants out of the stroller.  His hands work against the roll bar, and he bounces up and down.  "Dinman!  Dinman!" he says loudly.  "Go!  Go!"  Skinner follows Will's line of sight to the sandbox.

There are a lot of kids in the sandbox, and the surrounding benches are filled with adults watching their charges.  Skinner circles the area, looking for the least exposed corner, or at least an empty bench.  Will's squeals get louder as they get closer to the sandbox.

"Dinman!  Dinman!" he hollers, pointing to the sand.  There are no empty benches nearby, so Skinner perches on the edge of the sandbox after carefully removing Will from the stroller and sitting him in the sand.  He rummages through the stuff he packed for suitable sand toys.

The first thing Will does is crawl rapidly away from Skinner, toward the other kids.  Skinner shouts, "HEY!" as though he's trying to get a perp to stop and barely keeps himself from grabbing at Will's ankle.  He's surprisingly fast for a little guy.  Skinner lunges across the sand, heedless of anyone and anything other than Will's rapidly retreating behind.  He has a vague sense of kids scattering in his wake.  He finally gets to Will and picks him up, causing Will to emit a surprised shriek.  He stands up, feeling extremely conspicuous, and takes Will back to the stroller.

He ignores Will's shrieks and his reproachful wails of "Dinman!  Want down!  Want down!" and straps him back into the stroller.  He can feel how hot his face is, both from exertion and embarrassment.  He just isn't up to this.  He fumbles around for Will's pacifier and wipes the sand off on his shirt.  Will accepts it, but his wet blue eyes stare at Skinner with a hurt expression.  His eyes look like Scully's, but the expression is all Mulder.  It's a little unnerving, like seeing Mulder at his most defeated in miniature.  It only makes Skinner feel worse.

He won't be surprised if someone calls the cops on him.  He is sure everyone within hearing thinks he is abusing Will in some way.  He can't get away from the park fast enough.  He wheels back down the sidewalk to the accompaniment of Will's broken-hearted whimpers.

They'll never ask me to baby-sit again, he thinks.  The thought should relieve him, but somehow it doesn't.

He sees Mulder's car parked in the driveway with gratitude.  They did manage to get away early, after all.

Mulder is standing by the front door.  "We tried to call, and you didn't answer, so we thought we'd just come back, see if everything's okay."  Scully appears from just inside the door, cellphone in her hand.

"Is this yours, Walter?"  she asks, holding it out.  He'd forgotten to put it in the stroller pocket.  He takes it from her hands sheepishly.

"I'm sorry if I worried you," he tells her.

"Actually, you did us a favor," Scully says.  "Mulder's tolerance level for gatherings like this needs to be built up gradually.  An hour or so is about all he can do right now, and then he starts acting like Will."

Meanwhile, Will has let the pacifier drop and he holds his arms up to Mulder, wailing piteously, "Dada!  Dada!"

Mulder leans down and unstraps him.  "What's the matter, buddy?  Didn't you have fun in the park?"  Will buries his face in Mulder's neck and makes heartbreaking noises.  Skinner feels almost ready to cry, too.

Mulder murmurs something to Will, sounding amused.  As Will starts to calm down, Mulder looks at Skinner, a half-smile on his face.  He doesn't seem concerned or put out at all by Will's behavior.

"Was everything okay, Walter?" Mulder asks, patting Will on the back soothingly.  "Did Will try to escape you?  Did you have to thwart him?"

Skinner nods.  "Big time."

Mulder looks down at his son, who is now drooling on his shoulder, eyes half-shut and thumb in mouth.  "He turns on the waterworks whenever he doesn't get his way.  You get used to it.  It's not often I get to be Big Daddy Hero, though.  Usually, *I'm* the bad guy."  He leads the way into the house.  "You want some coffee?  Or maybe a beer?  Looks like you could use one."

Skinner declines.  He thinks that Will needs to get over the trauma of the afternoon, and so does he.  He says his good-byes and accepts thanks that he doesn't feel he really deserves.

Instead of going home, he sees a Borders up ahead and he steers into the parking lot.  He likes browsing around in these giant bookstores, as evidenced by the pile of books he has at home waiting to be read.  Just being in the store is a stress-reliever.  Some men go to bars, he frequents bookstores.  He especially likes going into bookstores out of his neighborhood, where it's less likely he will see someone he knows.

He spends some time looking at the best sellers, and then idly sorts through the bargain books.

He feels like someone's watching him.  I'm getting as paranoid as Mulder, he thinks, but looks up anyway.

There's a woman on the other side of the table, and she is looking at him, and smiling.

"Hello," she says.  "Didn't I see you in the park with a little boy earlier today?  I was there with my niece."

Skinner nods, too embarrassed to speak.  He hopes her niece isn't one of the ones he almost trampled.

"I've seen you there before,"  she continues.  "You're usually with another man.  Is he the father?  Or are you sharing?"

Sharing?  What the hell did that mean?  Then it dawns on him:  she obviously thinks he and Mulder are a couple.  It's true when they've gone to the park, it's always been without Scully.  They typically went on the days Scully  ran errands.

"I'm just a friend of the family," Skinner says as calmly as he can.  "The baby's his.  He's married."  So much for Will being a babe magnet if that's what people think.  It doesn't bother him in the abstract, but he doesn't like people making assumptions.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologizes.  "You just seemed so at ease with each other...oh, never mind," she ends in confusion.  "No matter what I say, it's going to sound stupid."

"No, it's okay," Skinner reassures her, sorry he's embarrassed her, his own embarrassment forgotten.  "I guess it's a reasonable assumption."

"Well, only because of my own experience," she says.  "My sister's gay, and there are a number of other same-sex couples in the neighborhood, so that's why."

Even though he knows it isn't politically correct, Skinner is somewhat relieved that her assumption isn't necessarily based on his looks or actions.

"The little boy is cute, anyway,"  she's trying valiantly to change the subject, and unwittingly steps on another landmine.  "What did he call you?  `Tinman'?  I thought it was an unusual nickname."

"No," Skinner says abruptly, feeling his face go red.  Though maybe `Tinman' is more appropriate for the way he's been feeling.  "It was `Skinman.'  That's what he called me."

"Oh," she says, and there is a long, awkward pause.  "My name is Skinner," he finally explains.  "Walter Skinner.    It's an old college nickname."

She smiles, and he realizes that she's very pretty.  "Maybe we could just start over.  Let's pretend I haven't said anything at all yet, okay?"

There's a twinkle in her eyes and he warms to her.  His instincts say that she's an okay person.  She seems to have a sense of humor, and intelligence shines out of her eyes.

"My name's Walter.  Walter Skinner," he offers impulsively.  "May I know your name?"

"Margaret Kimberly,"  she says with another smile.  "But my friends call me Peggy."

"Do you want to get a cup of coffee?"  he asks.  He's not sure what's gotten into him, but he wants to know more about this woman.

"Okay," she agrees.

By the time they've finished their coffee, Peggy has agreed to have lunch with him the next day.

Will's magnetism evidently has a delayed reaction, Skinner thinks.  Not that it's a bad thing.   Maybe he could borrow Will for a play date with Peggy and her niece.

end.

feedback is always at the top of my reading list!
msnsc21@aol.com
 
 
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
 
 

Skinman 4: Clearing the Air

By ML
msnsc21@aol.com
 

10/19/04
Distribution: Ephemeral, Gossamer, yes; if you've archived me
before, yes; otherwise, please just let me know and leave
headers, email addy, etc. attached. Thanks!
Spoilers: S8 and back
Rating: PG-13
Classification: S
Keywords:
Summary: A burden shared is a burden halved.

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris
Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting.  I mean no infringement,
and I'm making no money.

The rest of the Skinman series can be found at:
http://www.kimpart.com/mlfic.html

Skinman 4: Clearing the Air
by ML

The last of summer is fading.  Skinner likes the crispness in the
air in the mornings and the lingering warmth of the afternoons.
Fall always makes him a little melancholy, as much as he will
allow himself to feel such a thing.  Maybe it's a carryover from
his boyhood, when this time of year signaled the end of carefree
days and the beginning of responsibility once again.

He wonders if he would have spent his last summer as a child any
differently if he'd known it would be the last carefree summer he
would know.  When he signed up and got ready for his tour of duty
in Viet Nam, he naively thought that when he returned, everything
would be the same as when he left.  He'd had no idea that not only
would everything at home change, but that he would change, too.

He's not a fanciful man, but this summer feels like the first one
he's truly enjoyed since his boyhood.  It's the first summer since
then that he's had the warmth of a family around him, and the
excitement of discovering love.

He hasn't said this aloud yet, not to anyone.  But he thinks that
maybe it's true.  He's kept that knowledge to himself for a while
now, not even telling those closest to him what's been happening.
Hell, he hasn't even told the object of his affection yet.  Secrecy
has become a habit over the years, and he tells no one anything
except on a "need to know" basis.

This is different, he realizes.  Now it's not so much "need to
know" as it is "need to tell."  He's invited Scully and Mulder
over for dinner tonight, which is something he's done occasionally.
 This time, however, he's invited Peggy, too.  He figures it's about
time the people he cares about most met each other.

He'd only met Peggy Kimberly a few months before, but already she's
become an important part of his life.  How important he is to her,
only time will tell.

He parks his car and drifts with the crowd into the farmer's market,
scanning for the familiar form.

Although she's short, he can always pick Scully out in a crowd.
He sees her, smooth red hair covering her cheek, head bent over
something at one of the booths.  He scans around for evidence of
Mulder and Will, but sees no tall, dark haired man hovering over
her, and no stroller, either.  This is a rare occasion.  He doesn't
often see Scully without one or the other of her men in close
attendance.

His shadow reaches her first and she looks up, a smile already on
her face.  "Good morning, Walter."

"Hi, Dana," he reaches out to shake her hand, but her hands are full
of melons.  He awkwardly pats her shoulder instead.  She reaches up
and kisses his cheek in greeting.

She smiles at him and holds up a melon.  "Doesn't this smell good?"

He takes a deep sniff.  It smells like summer, and sunny mornings.
His father at the breakfast table, salting the pale orange flesh of
the cantaloupe before scooping out his first bite.  "That's a good
one."

She nods, and puts the other one back.

"What's Mulder up to this morning?  Has he got Will?" Skinner asks,
looking around, half expecting Mulder to appear any moment.

"He had a faculty meeting this morning.  He dropped me off here on
his way,"  Scully explains.  "We took Will over to his grandma's
last night."

Skinner nods.  Peggy has a meeting today, too.

"So what's for dinner tonight?"  Scully asks.

"Let's see what's good," Skinner says, and they roam around the
booths of fresh fruits and vegetables, herbs, and various other
food items displayed like jewels in a showcase window.

He'd consulted with Peggy about what to have with the London broil
he plans to grill, and she suggested some things.  He buys a little
of everything she suggested.  There's late corn, and baby eggplant;
onions, carrots, and small red potatoes.  He also selects a couple
of squatty-looking squash, streaked yellow and green.

Scully looks at him with some amusement.  "Are you planning to cook
all those for tonight, Walter?  How many people are coming?"

"It'll just be the four of us," he says, and then realizes that the
cat is out of the bag.

Scully raises her eyebrows.

"Do you have time for coffee before you have to meet Mulder?"  he
asks before Scully can say anything.

"Plenty of time," Scully says.  "He won't be done until at least
noon.  In fact, I hoped you'd be able to drop me home when we're
through here."

"No problem," Skinner says.

They make their last purchases.  He waits while Scully selects a
couple of mixed bouquets.  The vendor winks at him.  "Make the
missus buy her own, huh?"

Skinner is sure he has turned bright red at the implication.  He is
almost afraid to glance at Scully, but she takes it in stride.  She
simply smiles at the man as she gets her change and turns toward
Skinner.  "Used to happen to Mulder and me all the time," she said.

"Does it still?"  he asks curiously.  "Happen, I mean."

"Well, it's not incorrect any more," she says.  She smiles to
herself and says, barely loud enough for Skinner to hear, "It never
really was."

They put their purchases in Skinner's car and Scully leads the way
to a coffee shop not far from the farmer's market.  It's not a
Starbuck's, but an eclectic neighborhood hangout, filled with the
smell of roasting beans and chock-a-block with coffee and tea
accessories and gift items.  Skinner makes note of this.  Peggy
would like this place, he thinks.  I'll have to bring her here.

He's noticed he's been doing that a lot lately:  thinking of Peggy
when he sees or hears something, wondering whether or not she'd
appreciate whatever it is, and making a mental note to tell her.
And when he does tell her, he finds that he's judged her reaction
correctly, most of the time.  They have an appreciation for many of
the same things.

It scares him and warms him in about equal parts, he thinks.

After they've gotten their orders, they find a table outside and
sit in companionable silence for a bit.  A year ago, Skinner would
never have believed that he'd find himself sitting having coffee
with Scully like this.  A year ago, Scully was still on maternity
leave, and he hadn't talked to either her or Mulder since just after
Will's birth.

He hasn't spent much time with Scully at all since she started her
maternity leave.  He misses working with her and talking with her.
It was only after Mulder was taken that he realized Scully trusted
him.  He'd been glad to be there for her, and even though it had
been under the most dire of circumstances, they'd grown close.
Joined in their mutual quest, they'd found strength in each other.

Once Mulder had returned and was himself again, Skinner felt himself
in excess of requirements.  After several months of watching over
Scully, feeling himself her protector and confidant, he'd felt
bereft.  He understood Scully's withdrawal, and he was as happy as
she was that Mulder was back.  But he missed her.

Even after Scully returned to work, he'd barely seen her.  She spent
most of her time at Quantico and he rarely made an excuse to go
there.

Scully had been the one to take the first step, even though Mulder
had made the call.  Little by little, after that first call, he's
found himself more a part of their lives than he'd ever been when
they'd been his subordinates at the Bureau.

For the moment, whatever dark forces were at work before Scully's
child was born seem to be in abeyance.  Skinner doesn't trust this;
he's pretty sure that it could change in a heartbeat.  But he takes
his cue from Mulder and Scully.  They are trying to have as normal
a life as it's possible to have while being constantly vigilant.
Skinner is keeping his eyes and ears open; he always has.  But on
days like this, it's almost possible to forget the danger and fear
that always lurks around the corner.

"Penny for your thoughts, Walter," Scully says.

"I was just thinking about the way things were before, and how they
are now," Skinner says.  "This is the longest stretch of `normal'
I've had in my life for years."

"Is Kersh staying off your back?"

Skinner grimaces.  "Not really, thanks for reminding me.  He's just
gotten a little more subtle, and I think at the moment he's being
cautious.  He's not the mastermind, I'm pretty sure.  He's just
another puppet.  A highly-placed one, but a puppet all the same.
He's got to wait for orders, and I guess none have been forthcoming."

"It's a different game now," Scully says.  "It's harder to know
who's on what side.  It's always been hard to know whom to trust,
but this is different."  She pauses, seeming to pick her words
carefully.  "What did Mulder say Krycek told you?  We have no idea
how deep it goes?"

"I think Mulder has known or suspected just how deep, for years.
That's why he tried so hard to stay in the FBI for so long.  But
he was right not to fight his dismissal.  It was a tactical error
on Kersh's part, or whoever's controlling him.  They have much less
oversight now than they did."

"I wonder if we'll ever find out who's really behind this," Scully
says somberly.

"We just have to keep trying, Scully," he says, and then realizes
what he's called her.

"Yes, sir," she says right back, still looking very serious.  She
stirs her coffee absently, looking off into the middle distance.
"I'm sorry to have spoiled the mood."

Skinner touches her hand to get her to look at him.  "It's okay.
It's never very far away.  I'm trying to learn to take each moment
as it comes."

Scully does smile at this, albeit a little sadly.  "I'm still
working on that, myself," she says.  She holds him with her honest
blue eyes and he waits, wondering what she's gathering herself to
say.  "Before we change the subject, there's something I've been
meaning to tell you."

Skinner waits, completely mystified and not a little apprehensive.

"I never had a chance to say thank you, Walter," she says.  "Or,
more properly, I guess I should say I never tried to thank you."

Skinner feels uncomfortable.  He doesn't want thanks.  He still
carries the burden of his mistakes, of the gambles he's made and
lost.  He doesn't feel he deserves gratitude for anything.
Nonetheless, he remains silent.  If Dana Scully feels the need to
say something, he'll listen.  It won't change how he feels, but
he'll do it for her.  He owes her.  He looks at her and waits.

She was looking away from him again but now she meets his gaze,
clear and blue and piercing.  She looked like that any number of
times in the past couple of years: fearless and determined.  She
says, "I need to thank you for Mulder's life.  And for my own.
And for believing us, even when I doubted you."

He shakes his head.  "I almost killed him, Dana.  And if I hadn't
lost him in the first place, maybe none of it would  have happened."

"Walter."  That's a tone he hasn't heard for a long time, and when
he has heard it, it was usually addressed to Mulder.  "You are not
to blame for that.  Mulder would have done what he did, whether you
were there or not.  You couldn't have stopped him.  *I* couldn't
have stopped him.  He told me.  It happened so fast.  And, I believe
that They would have taken him, no matter what."

He starts to speak again, but she forestalls him.  "And you will
not blame yourself for taking Mulder off life support, no matter
what your reasons were at the time.  If you hadn't thought to have
him exhumed," here Scully has to pause because a sob catches in her
throat, "he wouldn't have been there at all."

This is not the conversation he intended to have with Scully this
morning.  He'd only wanted to tell her about Peggy.  Now he realizes
that Scully hadn't withdrawn from him, he'd withdrawn from her,
probably to avoid conversations like this.  When he talks with
Mulder, they can couch their meanings in frivolous words, words
that don't cut quite so deep.  But Scully will always get to the
heart of the matter.  It may end up having a salutary effect in the
long run, but while it's happening, it's very painful.

She's not through yet, either.  "You've shut yourself away for too
long, Walter, and you've tried to shoulder your responsibilities
alone.  I don't know why you decided to believe us and to help us,
but I thank God that you did.  I know how often you've saved
Mulder's ass, Sir," she says, unconsciously slipping into her
familiar address,"and I know you've saved mine, too."

"What did Mulder tell you?"  Skinner demands.

"Nothing.  He told me nothing.  I just started to piece things
together.  I asked Mulder, but he wouldn't tell me anything.  I
think he wanted to, because he's as bad as you are about accepting
gratitude."  She adds,  "and I know the price you've had to pay."

"It's done now, Scully," Skinner says.  "It's in the past.  The
price was paid with Krycek's death."  That's another subject he
doesn't really want to discuss right now.  "If I accept your
thanks, will you promise me you'll never bring this up again?"

"Well, we'll see," Scully says.  "But at least for now, it's a
deal, Walter."  She gives him a big smile this time, and puts her
small, soft hand over his.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Skinner says, and to try and inject a little
lightness in the conversation, he adds, "Just remember what you
owe me the next time Wayne Federman's in town."

Scully rolls her eyes.  "Now who's dredging up the past?  Aren't
you the tiniest bit embarrassed by that awful movie?"

"Do you think I'd admit it if I was?  I was the envy of the FBI."
Scully blushes and lowers her eyes, which makes him happy for some
reason.  "I'm just lucky Kersh wasn't Deputy Director at the time.
I am sorry if it caused you any embarrassment, though."

"Except for finding out I was the subject of a new office pool, it
didn't have much effect on me," she says with a shrug and a grimace.
"You knew about that, right?"

Skinner knows he has a sheepish look on his face.  "I tried to get
Kimberly to help me stop it, but once those things get started..."

"Believe me, Walter, I know.  But it's too bad it had to involve
you.  Federman really could have caused a problem for you by putting
that line in the movie."

end of Part One; conclusion in Part Two.

==========
 

10/19/01
Skinman4:Clearing the Air (2 of 2)
by ML

disclaimers, etc. in Part One.

He's not sure it's a good idea to admit it, but he might as well get
it out in the open, since they've been dealing with uncomfortable
subjects this morning.  "Please don't take this the wrong way, but
I guess I had a little crush on you for a while," he says.  "It
never went beyond that, and I certainly never said a thing to
anyone.  But Federman has a way of seeing stuff that no one else
sees, especially in me.  That's why he did what he did in the movie.
He thought it would make me happy."

Somehow they've veered back into serious territory, and once again
it's his fault.  Scully appears to be at a loss for words.  He's not
sure what he expected from her:  maybe anger, or shock, or
incredulity, but he can't really tell what she's thinking or
feeling.  Finally she asks neutrally, "Did it make you happy?"

"No, in fact, it pissed me off," Skinner says.  "I would have said
something, but how do you bring something like that up?"

Scully nods and doesn't speak again right away.  She's avoiding his
eyes, which is unlike her.  When she speaks again, she's chosen to
take a lighter tone.  "Well, I think I understand the Bureau credit
card thing now," Scully says.

Skinner nods, relieved.  "I felt sorry for getting you both involved
in the thing, and I was especially feeling sorry for Mulder that
night.  Of the three of us, his character on screen was made to look
the most ridiculous.  At least, he seemed the most bothered by it."

"Well, you know how he feels about his work," Scully points out.
"I think he felt it was being trivialized, not being taken
seriously.  As usual."

"So for Mulder, the movie would've had to be a documentary to
make him happy," Skinner ventures.

Scully smiles a little.  "And, likely as not, no one would have
watched it.  Though I guess the net result is the same.  Even
Richard Gere couldn't save `The Lazarus Bowl' from oblivion,
though the Gunmen say it has a kind of cult following on the
Internet.  It's not the publicity that bothered Mulder.  It's
the inaccuracies."  She sips her coffee.   "You know, Mulder
actually enjoyed being on `Cops', I think.  Even if the case
was inconclusive."

"Funny you should mention that.  Federman *did* get in touch with
me again not long ago," Skinner tells her.  "He has a friend who
wants to pitch some sort of real-life paranormal show to one of
the networks.  He's been looking for a host, someone who has some
experience in the paranormal, but who also has some camera appeal.
 Do you think..."

Scully says before he could even finish,  "Don't even think it,
Walter.  Don't mention it to Mulder, just forget about it."

Skinner feels a little hurt.  "He was actually asking me if *I'd*
be interested."

Scully has the grace to blush.  "Oh."  She looks down and stirs
her coffee.  "Is it something you'd be interested in doing?"  she
asks diplomatically.

"I don't know," he says.  "Though pissing off Kersh has a certain
appeal."

"You could probably kiss your retirement goodbye," Scully says.

He nods.  He can't believe they're talking about this at all.
He's already told Federman no.  "But if the show was a success,
I wouldn't need it."

"True."  Scully's back to stirring her coffee again and not looking
at him.  He knows why.

"Dana," he says, and then, "Scully...I don't want you to feel
uncomfortable about -- what I said, before.  It really is not a
problem.  It's in the past.  I want you to know, even when Mulder
was gone, I would never --"

Scully puts her hand on his arm.  "Walter, I know.  I guess maybe
I even knew, or suspected, a little.  But it's not the sort of
thing that I could ever have considered, even idly.  Not just
because of Mulder, and certainly not because I'm not, I wasn't --
even if what we -- what I --"  she sighs.  "What I'm trying to say
is, I needed your friendship, your support, too much to even
consider anything else.  Even when it looked like Mulder was
really gone, gone for good, I --"  she stops again, floundering
a little.  He thinks he can see tears in her eyes.  Even after
all this time and the happy outcome, it's hard for her to talk
about Mulder's death.

It's not often he has seen Dana Scully so flustered.  He realizes
that it's not only because of Mulder, but because of what he said.
The last thing he wants is to make Dana uncomfortable.

"It's okay, Dana.  You don't have to say it."

"Yes, I do.  I'm flattered by what you said, Walter, and in other
times, other circumstances, I might have ... even," she stops
again, distressed.  Skinner is suddenly sorry he brought it up.

"It's done," he reassures her.  "It's in the past, or I would never
have said anything.  I didn't mean to upset you."  This is indeed
true, and the confession has, for him anyway, wiped away any ghost
of awkwardness he feels toward Scully.  He wants to bring her the
same ease.

"Don't tell Mulder," he says, keeping his face absolutely straight,
hoping she gets it.  "He'll kick my ass."

After a moment of shocked silence, Scully not only smiles, she
giggles.  She reaches out to put her hand over his on the table.
She gives it just a little squeeze.  "Thank you for telling me,"
she says.

Relieved to have finally told her, and heartened by her words,
Skinner has the courage to tell Scully what he started out to say
in the first place.  After the topics they've already covered
this morning, this now seems like a piece of cake.  "That's not
really what I wanted to tell you," he says.  "I wanted to let you
know that I invited another guest to dinner tonight.  Someone I've
wanted you to meet for some time."

Scully asks,  "Is this the person you canceled basketball for last
week?"

Skinner nods.  "Her name is Peggy Kimberly.  We've been dating for
a little while now."

"How long is a little while?"  Scully asks.

"I met her at the beginning of summer.  We've been out for coffee a
couple of times, and lunch, and dinner."  He's grateful that Scully
doesn't sound incredulous about this at all.  He feared that.
Mulder's teasing he can take, but he depends on Scully, measures
himself by her reaction.

"You don't have to answer this, of course, but you know Mulder will
ask," Scully warns him.  "Anything beyond dinner?"

Skinner shakes his head.  "No.  I don't think we're there yet."

"Do you want to be?"

"Well, yes," The words come out a little more emphatic than he
wants.  He tempers it by saying.  "Eventually.  When we're both
ready."

"I'm glad for you, Walter," Scully says softly, laying her hand
on his arm.

He's sure it's genuine.  What Mulder's reaction will be he's less
sure of.  He knows he'll be in for some teasing.  He's getting used
to it, but there is something that he hopes that Mulder won't get
wind of.  He made it a joke before, but he says it seriously this
time.

"Dana, I hope you won't share what I told you before ... I mean
before I told you about Peggy ... with Mulder." It was hard enough
to say it the first time; he doesn't want to repeat himself.  But
Dana Scully is very good at reading between the lines.

"Walter, your secret is safe with me.  Believe it or not, I don't
tell Mulder everything."  She looks down at the dregs of her coffee.
"But I'm pretty sure he already knows."

Skinner nods; he's familiar with Mulder's territorial behavior.
He wonders if he could ever feels as strongly about anyone as these
two feel about each other.  It's not fair to compare his situation
with theirs; Mulder and Scully have known each other for years and
have undergone incredible hardships together to forge such a bond.
Maybe he doesn't even have the right to wish for it.  Maybe he
shouldn't even contemplate a relationship...

He's suddenly aware that Scully is looking at him strangely.
"Walter, what on earth are you thinking about?  I promise you,
I won't tell Mulder, and I won't even let him tease you about
Peggy..."

"It's not that," Skinner assures her.  "Well, not really, but I
just don't know."

"What don't you know?"

"How I feel about Peggy.  How she feels about me.  If it's ever
right to pursue any kind of a relationship with so much uncertainty
about the future."

"I don't think you can know, Walter," Scully says.  "Some things
you just have to take on faith."

"How do you know?"  Skinner persists.  "How do you know it's really
love?  I haven't known her for very long, only a couple of months,
but somehow I feel that we've just clicked.  I think she feels it,
too."

"Well, don't go by my experiences, Walter," Scully says.  "I'm no
expert, but I do think that long courtships are the exception rather
than the rule."

"Yours was certainly the exception," Skinner says.  Just about
everyone but Mulder and Scully seemed to see the attraction between
the two of them, years before they acted on it.

"It wasn't entirely by choice, you know," Scully says.  "My point
is that I'm not a good example.  But I also don't think that falling
in love has to be an ordeal.  Maybe hardships in other parts of
your life allow you to be open to this now.  Maybe you're just
ready."

Skinner asks, "Do you believe in balance?  That the universe has
a -- a yin and yang, for lack of a better term?  That something
bad will be balanced by something good?"

Scully thinks for a long time about this question.  He can see the
changes in her face as she mulls it over.

"If you had asked me a couple of years ago, I might have said no.
But even then there were mitigating circumstances.  I think Mulder
has always believed it.  And eventually, I came to believe it,
too.  There is a balance.  You just can't always see it, and
sometimes, you have to help it along, find ways to bring the
scales back to true."  She smiles a small, almost secret, smile.
"You can't always leave it all to fate."

"Tell me this is none of my business if you want," Skinner
continues.  "I realize that you and Mulder weren't, weren't..."

"A couple?"  Dana supplies.  "For years, partners, yes.  A couple,
no.  Despite the rumors."

Skinner nods.  "But did you always know how you felt?  Or did
something change for you?"

"I can answer yes to both," she says.  "I knew for a long time
how I felt, and I was pretty sure I knew how Mulder felt, too.
But I, at least, was afraid.  And sometimes my fears seemed
well-founded."

"What changed for you?  What finally brought you together?  Did
you stop being afraid?"

"I don't think I will ever stop being afraid."  She smiles her
secret smile.  "But one day I decided it was time to stop letting
my fears rule me.  I realized that my fears were holding me back,
keeping us apart.  And we both seemed to realize it at the same
time.  We decided that we had to live our lives.  That if we didn't,
They'd win."

Skinner doesn't have to ask who "They" are.

"My turn to ask you," Scully says now.  "Did you have strong
feelings for Peggy right away?  Or have they grown on you?"

"A little of both," he admits.  "I met her, and we just started to
talk about things.  Like we'd known each other for a long time.
It's been that way every time we've seen each other, a little more
so each time.  I feel like I've known her for years, and yet it's
only been this summer."

"Have you told her what you're feeling?"

"Not yet."

"Does she feel the same way you do?"

He nods.  "I think so.  But the only way I'll know for sure is
to ask."

"Don't wait too long to ask her, Walter."

"I won't," he promises.

They smile at each other.  Scully looks at her watch.  "Do you
realize that it's almost noon?"

"I guess I'd better get you home before Mulder thinks I've run
off with you," Skinner teases.  He can't believe he's teasing
Scully, and her response back makes him laugh out loud.

"Nah," she says.  "Mulder knows I can kick your ass."

As she gets out of the car at home, Scully leans close to Skinner.
"Thank you for saying what you did earlier," she whispers in his
ear.  She also gives him a lingering kiss on the cheek, then presses
her own cheek against his for long seconds.

"You're welcome," he says back, and turns away, feeling lighter
hearted than when he started out this morning.  The chill of the
morning has become a crisp afternoon, and he drives on, letting
himself feel happy for this moment, no matter what happened before,
or what might happen in the future.

end.

Thanks for reading!  Feedback is treasured at:
msnsc21@aol.com
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
 

Skinman 5:  Dinner with Skinner
By ML
msnsc21@aol.com
 

11/24/01
Distribution: Ephemeral, Gossamer, Enigmatic Dr., or if you've
archived me before, yes; if you haven't, please just let me
know and leave headers, email addy, etc. attached. Thanks!
Spoilers: Through S8
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Skinner POV. Definitely AU.
Summary:  Peggy Kimberly meets "the family."

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to
Chris Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting.  I mean no
infringement, and I'm making no money.

Note: This picks up right after "Skinman 4: Clearing the Air,"
in which Skinner and Scully have a chat over coffee.

Find the whole shebang, along with Kimpa's charming bookcover
at:  http://www.kimpart.com/mlfic.html

Dinner with Skinner
by ML

Skinner lets himself in to his apartment and methodically puts
the vegetables from the farmer's market in the refrigerator, and
puts the apples in a bowl on the counter.  It's the one spot of
color in the kitchen.  It's almost the only spot of color in the
whole damn apartment, he thinks.  The place is decorated in
neutrals.  It's a sterile, soulless environment.  Not that it
bothered him in the past.  When he moved here, it's what he
wanted.

He hadn't wanted anything that would remind him of his failed
marriage to Sharon.  He'd willingly given her everything she
wanted, and sold the rest.  He'd gone in one afternoon and
picked out all the furniture for his new place, barely thinking
about what he bought, signing the receipts and arranging for
delivery as though he'd been conducting an office move.

His office actually holds more mementos than his apartment
does.  All his apartment holds are bad memories.

He needs a change, he thinks.  Not just a change of living
quarters, something more drastic than that.

Lately he's been thinking more and more about quitting the
Bureau.  But, somehow it seems cowardly to him.  Scully is still
there, and though officially she's not supposed to have anything
to do with the X Files, she finds ways to help out -- and Mulder
does, too, through his odd friends.  Mulder doesn't have anything
to do with the Bureau directly, but has let it be known that
Byers, Langly, and Frohike are willing to help.  He has passed
information to Agent Doggett through them a couple of times.
Skinner is no longer sure that his presence is a help to the
X-Files, if it ever really was, and to him, that's the only
valid reason for staying any longer.  Any idealism he had about
the FBI and his own contribution to the greater good died some
time ago.

He considers floating the idea of quitting the Bureau to Mulder.
In fact, Mulder suggested some time ago that he consider doing
so.  Skinner thought it had been more in jest at the time, and
Mulder hasn't mentioned it again.  But Skinner has given it a
lot of thought since.

The doorbell shakes him out of his self-absorption.  He looks
through the fisheye lens and sees Peggy peering back up at him,
smiling.  He smiles as he opens the door.  She's wearing a
purple sweater and a print skirt that swirls around her as she
enters.

"Hi Walter," she says as she comes in, handing him a grocery
bag.  He bends down to take it and she reaches up and gives
him a glancing kiss, right on the lips.  His smile gets a
little broader.

"How was your meeting?" Skinner asks.  He takes the bag into
the kitchen to unpack it.

"Oh, the usual.  You can't imagine what passion people can work
up over the Library of Congress.  Or the Dewey Decimal System,
for that matter."

Skinner thinks it would be a relief to care passionately about
something like that for a change, but it's not something he can
explain to Peggy.  He grunts an agreement.

"So, tonight I finally get to meet the family, huh?"  Peggy
says, her eyes twinkling.

Skinner shows his surprise at Peggy's characterization of Mulder
and Scully.  She continues, "Well, they are the closest thing
you've got to a family, aren't they?  You talk about them, and
Will, all the time.  I know how much they mean to you."

"Yeah, they do," Skinner agrees.  But you mean a lot to me too,
he thinks, but doesn't say out loud.  He seems to be having a
lot of conversations with himself lately.

Peggy smiles.  It's almost as if she heard his thought.  She
busies herself in the kitchen, inspecting the produce Skinner
bought that morning.

"So," she says casually, "do you think I'll meet with their
approval?"

"Peggy, that's not what this is about," Skinner says.

"Really?"  she says.  "I feel like it's `Meet the Parents,' or
something.  Not in a bad way," she hastens to reassure him.
"I'm really glad I finally get to meet them.  Will is adorable,
and I've been wanting to meet his folks."

Peggy knows only that Mulder and Scully both used to work with
Skinner at the FBI.  Even though she's at the same university
as Mulder, they're in different departments and she's never met
him.  Skinner hasn't told her anything about the weird goings-on
in their lives, or the part he's played in all of it.  He's going
to have to tell her something, some day, but he tells himself
that he's protecting her.  The less she knows about this stuff,
the better.  He's not sure he knows how to explain it to her,
anyway.  He has a hard time believing some of it himself, most
days.

"Don't get me wrong, Peggy, I do hope that you like them, and
that they like you," he says earnestly, "but it's okay if you
don't.  Mulder and Scully...they, they're...they've had a tough
time, the past couple of years, before William was born.  And
their approach to things is a little different.  Mulder,
especially."

"Do you always call them by their last names?"

"No, but that's illustrative of what I mean.  Mulder doesn't like
his first name, so almost everyone calls him Mulder.  Including
Scully.  I mean, including Dana."

"She doesn't have a thing about her first name too, does she?"

"No, she doesn't.  But Mulder started out by calling her by her
last name, and it stuck.  Mulder always calls her Scully, even
now.  I kind of fell into the habit, but I try to remember to
call her Dana."

"Oh," is all Peggy says.  "Any other rules I should know about,
words I shouldn't mention, or anything?"

"They can both be a little hard to get to know, at first," Skinner
starts to explain, and then he sees that she's smiling.

"Walter, I know there's a lot about your job you can't talk about,
and I'm guessing that the same is true for your friends.  I just
don't want to say anything I shouldn't.  I'm just a little nervous,
meeting people that you're so close to, and I do want them to like
me."

Skinner turns Peggy away from the counter and toward him.  He hugs
her close.  "I know you do, Peggy.  And I know they'll like you.
I want you to like them, too."  He pulls away from her but keeps
his hands on her upper arms.  "You're right, there's a lot I
haven't been able to tell you about what I've seen and done at
the Bureau.  A lot of it concerns Mulder and Dana pretty closely.
I'm not trying to keep secrets from you, but some of the things
aren't mine to tell."

Peggy looks up at him with trusting eyes.  "I understand," she
says simply.  "I know you'd tell me if you could."

Something in her look shakes him deep inside.  Has anyone ever
trusted him like this?  Did Sharon?  Maybe that wasn't a fair
comparison.  He'd distanced himself from her long before he
had any involvement with the X-Files.  The X-Files was just
the last nail in the coffin he'd built long before, probably
as far back as Viet Nam.

How can he explain to Peggy that it's been his friendship with
Mulder and Scully that allowed him to open himself up again?
Not just to "extreme possibilities," as Mulder would say, but
to the ordinary yearning for a connection with another human
being?

He looks down at Peggy, still in his arms, still smiling.  He
plants a quick kiss on her lips.  "I do want to tell you," he
says.  "I want to tell you lots of things.  And I will, I promise
you."  He kisses her again, and her sweet response makes him want
to forget about the guests coming in a few hours.  He gets himself
in hand and releases her.  "We'd better get started on dinner,"
he says, and is warmed by Peggy's look of disappointment.

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly, as time always seems to
do when he's with Peggy.  She cuts up the vegetables while he
mixes up a marinade for the meat, and then he cuts up the apples
while she makes pie crust.  Soon the apartment is filled with the
smell of baking.  They talk, or not, as the mood takes them, and
he feels relaxed and easy with her.  He has a little anxiety about
the evening and how it will go, but he won't allow it to take
over.

Peggy's just putting the finishing touches on the table when the
doorbell rings.  Skinner squeezes her shoulder as he passes by to
greet his guests.

He opens the door to see Mulder and Scully standing there, looking
for all the world like Mr. and Mrs. Normal Life.  He's struck by
how good they look together, how they complement each other.
Mulder has his usual dark pullover on, and black jeans, and he's
got his arm around Scully.  Scully favors lighter colors in her
off hours; tonight she's wearing a green wool cardigan with
colored flecks in it, and a khaki skirt.  She's carrying one of
the bouquets she bought that morning at the farmer's market.
They could be the poster couple for Land's End.

"Hi," Mulder says.  "We're your local MUFON representatives.
Could we interest you in some fine alien detection products for
your home?"

So much for the normal couple image.  Skinner snorts and says,
"Get in here, Mulder, before my neighbors call the cops."

"You *are* the cops, Skinman," Mulder reminds him with a smirk.

"Mulder," Scully warns him.

"What?"  he says with an innocent air.  Scully rolls her eyes and
smiles at Skinner.

"I did tell him he had to behave," she says to Skinner.  "Not that
he listens to me much."

"Lighten up, Scully," Mulder mutters out of the side of his mouth.

Peggy is standing by the table, watching this exchange.  Skinner
gestures to her and says, "This is my friend, Peggy Kimberly."

Mulder smiles and takes her hand.  "Nice to meet you, Ms.
Kimberly," he says formally.  He's being completely charming, and
Skinner can see Peggy relax.

Scully comes forward and hands her the flowers.  "It's nice to meet
you," she says as well.

"Thank you," Peggy says with a touch of shyness.  Skinner has never
seen her behave shyly before, and it makes him feel protective
toward her.

There's a little flurry of awkwardness as the four of them sort
themselves out and Peggy takes the flowers to put them in water.
Skinner pours wine for Scully and Peggy, and gets a couple of
beers for himself and Mulder.  He  says, "I need to check the
barbecue," and heads out to the balcony.  He's relieved that the
introductions went well, but he's still feeling a bit jittery.

Mulder follows Skinner out to the balcony.  He leans against the
railing and sips his beer, but his eyes keep straying to Scully
as she stands talking with Peggy inside.  Skinner has noticed
this habit for years.  If Scully is in the same room as Mulder,
Mulder's attention is at least partly focused on her, even if he's
not looking at her directly.  He always seems to have an awareness
of her proximity, not to mention her general state of mind.
Scully has surprised him once in a while, though.  He remembers
the look of gratified surprise on Mulder's face when Scully backed
up his theory during the Modell case, some years ago.  Even after
all this time, Mulder doesn't seem to accept the fact that Scully
cares for him as a given.

The two men look out over the darkening skyline and drink their
beers. It's a comfortable silence.  It's one of the changes in
his relationship with Mulder, that they can talk, or not talk,
and it's not awkward.  He's still working on that with Scully,
but he thinks their conversation earlier that day has helped
somewhat.

Skinner finds his attention drawn, like Mulder's, back into the
living room.  It looks warm and inviting, mainly because of the
two women in it.  Scully, with her flame red hair, and Peggy in
her purple sweater, compliment each other.  The two women are
close to the same height, he notes.  They are both beautiful,
though in very different ways.  Scully's beauty is quiet and
self-contained.  She's always tailored looking, even in casual
clothes.  He has seldom seen her with a hair out of place.  Peggy,
on the other hand, seems more at ease, and somehow softer.
Comfortable?  More approachable?  He's not sure how to describe
her.  He only knows that he'd been drawn to her almost instantly.

When Skinner first met Peggy, they'd both spent the morning in
the park, minding their young charges.  Peggy's hair had been
pulled back, but little wisps had escaped around her face.  She'd
been wearing an old tee shirt and jeans.  It amazes him that he
remembers these details.  He'd been a little embarrassed at his
own appearance, which had been less than spit and polish after
trying to keep up with Will in the park.

She certainly doesn't fit the usual stereotype of her profession.
Peggy teaches at the same university where Mulder works.  She
holds a doctorate in Library Science.  She also teaches beginning
computer classes for senior citizens through the community
extension program.  Art is her hobby, and she has actually
exhibited some of her work locally.  She is far from flamboyant,
but she doesn't fit the stereotype of "professor" or "librarian"
either.

Gradually, they've discovered that they have a lot in common.
They share a taste in literature and movies.  They both enjoy
preparing and eating good food.  Though Peggy is outwardly very
friendly, she respects his boundaries, and doesn't try to pry
into his life.  She doesn't try to overwhelm him with details
of hers, either.

He's discovered that he is more open to new ideas and experiences
than he would have suspected.  Skinner never knew or cared much
about art before, but Peggy taught him to look at it with new
eyes.  He's found that he enjoys going "junking," driving around
the countryside looking for yard or estate sales.  She is always
on the lookout for something she can use in her artwork.

She has literally brought life and color back into his existence.
He's not sure that he's done anything close to comparable for her.

Peggy invests herself fully in everything she does, and always
seems to have a positive outlook.  Skinner is a little envious
of that.  He's seen a less pleasant side of life; has experienced
evil and terror firsthand.  He hopes that Peggy will never have
to know either, and it worries him that just being around him might
put her in danger.  Sometimes he thinks that it would be better if
he stopped seeing her, or at least kept her at arm's length.  But
it's getting harder and harder to do that, and he's less inclined
to consider it as time goes on.  If Mulder and Scully are brave
enough to pursue a personal life, why can't he?

It will mean telling Peggy what she's in for, trying to make her
understand the dangers he faces, and how they might affect her.
And if he's going to do that, he will have to do it soon, before
there's no turning back.

"Spill, Walter," Mulder interrupts his reverie.  "How long have
you known Peggy?"

Skinner tells Mulder the story of how he met Peggy the first time
he baby-sat William.

"Told you he was a babe magnet," Mulder chuckles.  "I can't believe
you didn't tell us about her before this."

"There wasn't really anything to tell," Skinner maintains.  "We've
gone out a few times, met for coffee, that sort of thing."

"You haven't scared her away yet, huh?  Is it getting serious?"

Skinner doesn't answer right away.

"Walter, what does she know about what's going on?"  Mulder
persists.

"Nothing, really," he admits.  "I haven't told her much."

"But you're gonna have to, right?"

Skinner nods.  "But how do you think it's going to sound?
She's not going to believe any of it.  I didn't, not for a
long time."

"Welcome to my world, Skinman," Mulder says.  "But give her
some credit.  Not everyone is as bull-headed as you were, or
as most of the FBI.  Even you were more open to it than you'd
admit.  She might surprise you."

"I know, I know," Skinner says.  Like he hasn't been through
this argument with himself a couple of times.

"Seriously, Walter, you have to tell her the truth.  If you
care about her, she's got to know."

"I *know*," he says sharply.  "But how long was it before Scully
believed any of this?"

"Maybe she didn't believe right away," Mulder says, "But she
trusted me.  If Peggy trusts you, she'll at least listen to you."

Peggy pokes her head out the door.  "Walter, how's it coming?
The vegetables are about ready."

"Just a few minutes more," Skinner answers her, and looks back
at Mulder.  Mulder looks back at him, his face expressionless.

x-x-x-x

"Mulder, what did you do at the FBI?"  Peggy asks about halfway
through dinner.

"I guess Sk-Walter hasn't told you much," Mulder grins.  "I don't
blame him, to most people it sounds pretty farfetched.  I used to
be in charge of a little division called the X-Files.  And Scully,
I mean Dana, was my partner."

"Walter said it was an unusual department.  What did you do?"

Mulder looks over at Skinner, a slight question in his eyes.
Skinner looks back impassively.  Do your worst, Mulder, he says
silently.  Maybe he should have warned Peggy, maybe he's been a
chickenshit not to tell her more himself, but it's too late to
do anything about it now.

"We investigated unexplained cases," Mulder says.  "Alien
abductions, supernatural phenomena, government conspiracies,
and the like."

"You investigated them to disprove them?  That's a pretty
unusual job.  I didn't think that the FBI would be that
interested in such things, except maybe the government
conspiracies."

"They weren't actually very interested in anyone proving or
disproving these cases,"  Mulder replies.  "I came upon them
because of a...personal interest, and decided that they needed
looking into.  Then Scully was assigned to the division and
things really got interesting."

"I was assigned to debunk Agent Mulder's work," Scully says in
a formal tone, much like she's making a report.

"Not that she could," Mulder says with a grin.  "She did her
best, though."

Peggy's eyes grow wider.  "You mean, you could prove the things
you investigated were true?"

"Not exactly," Dana says, and Skinner can see that she's ready
to launch into lecture mode and in a minute, Peggy will be
treated to the Mulder and Scully Great Debate.

Mulder surprises him by stepping in before Dana can begin.
"Some were true, and others weren't.  Still more were never
proven one way or another,"  he says with a smile at Dana.
"Scully has always said that everything can be proven by
science, you just have to know where to look."

Scully smiles back at Mulder when he says that.

"Do you still think that, Dana?"  Peggy asks.

Scully says very seriously, "I've seen things that I can't
explain.  Maybe one day the science will exist to explain them,
but not at the moment."

"Never give up, do you, Scully?"  Mulder says softly, his fondness
for her shining in his eyes.

"Never,"  Scully responds right back, matching him gaze for gaze.
Skinner has the impression that both he and Peggy have disappeared
off the face of the earth for the moment.

Peggy catches Skinner's eye and smiles, and reaches over to squeeze
his hand.  "I'd love to hear about some of your cases, if you can
talk about them," she says to Mulder.

Mulder looks at Scully again.  "There might be a few we can talk
about," he says.

Scully says.  "Very few, if you're talking about cases we can
agree on."

x-x-x-x

An hour later, Scully nudges Mulder.  "I think we can save some
for another time, Mulder," she says, and he stops in mid-
description of Sheriff Lucius Hartwell of Cheney, Texas.

"Sorry," he says.  "I got a little carried away."

"Oh, no," Peggy says.  "Thank you for telling me about your
cases.  They're very interesting."

Skinner glances at her.  Mulder stuck to stories that while
unusual, weren't terribly frightening.  He'd stayed away from
any that put himself or Scully in danger directly, or touched
on any government involvement.  They can all maintain a little
distance, a little perspective, with tales about a man with
phenomenal luck, or killer cockroaches.  Still, he would have
expected a little more of a reaction than this polite social
one.

Later, he'll ask Peggy what she really thinks of all this.
He's sure that she's tempering her reactions, same as Mulder
is editing his retelling of events.

They have pie and coffee in the living room, and talk turns to
more general subjects.  Peggy asks after Will, and before long
she and Scully are trading kid stories.

When Mulder and Scully get up to go, Skinner is surprised to see
how much time has passed.  Peggy stands next to him at the door
as they say goodnight.  She and Scully make plans to visit the
farmer's market together one Saturday.  Mulder catches Skinner's
eye and grins, sketching a thumbs up.

As soon as the door shuts, Peggy turns to Skinner.  "That wasn't
so bad, was it?  I didn't embarrass you, or anything?"

"Peggy, you couldn't embarrass me if you tried," Skinner tells
her, and kisses her forehead as she wraps her arms around his
waist.  "Did you like them?"

"They're very nice.  Mulder *is* kind of intense, isn't he?
He reminds me of someone else I know," Peggy teases him, resting
her chin against his chest so she can look up at him.  "You
weren't kidding about the weird cases, were you?  Mulder sounds
like he misses it.  Why did he quit?"

"He didn't quit," Skinner tells her.  "He was fired."

"Oh," Peggy says blankly.  "I'm glad I didn't say anything.  You
should have told me, though, it could have been awkward, if I'd
asked him."  She lets go of Skinner.  "Come on, let's get these
dishes picked up."  She starts gathering mugs and plates from
the coffee table.

"What did you think of the stories he told?"  Skinner asks,
trying his best to keep his tone neutral.

Peggy pauses in her task.  "They were pretty strange, but I just
got the feeling I wasn't hearing everything."

"I remember some of these incidents, though I wasn't directly
involved in them,"  Skinner says.  "He did pretty much stick to
the official reports tonight."

"But there's more to it, isn't there?  You seem pretty accepting
of them.  You've heard them before, he wasn't just telling stories
for my benefit, was he?"

"Of course not," Skinner says.  "You know me better than that by
now, don't you?"

"I think there's a lot I don't know about you, Walter Skinner,"
Peggy says.  "You still keep a lot bottled up, don't you?"  She
won't stay still; she's fiddling around in the kitchen, loading
the dishwasher, wiping down the counters.

Skinner leans against the counter and watches her.  "There's a
lot I should have told you," he says heavily.  "About the work,
about the things that have happened to me, to all of us, over
the years.  You should know.  It's only fair that you do."

Peggy is still not looking at him.  "I'm sure you'll tell me,
when you're ready," she says.

He'd like nothing better to do than to curl up on his couch with
Peggy, and hold her close, and forget about all of this.  But he
knows that he can't.  He remembers her trusting look earlier in
the evening, and he wants to be sure he still deserves it.  "I
can start," he says.

"I don't want to force you into telling me things you don't want
to tell me,"  Peggy says softly.

"I can start," he says again.  "I need to tell you some things."
He takes the dishtowel out of her hands and leads her into the
living room.  He sits down with her on the couch, not letting go
of her hands.

He looks at her for a long minute before he begins.  She looks
back at him with such openness and trust that he knows he has to
tell her everything.  He sends up a brief prayer that she will
still look at him like this when he's done.

She hasn't removed her hands from his; he feels anchored by them.
He clears his throat.  "I told you that I joined the Marines when
I was eighteen, and I was sent to Viet Nam."

Peggy nods, her eyes never leaving his.

"What I haven't told you is what happened to me there..."

end.

I'd really be interested in what you think about this
installment.  Feedback gladly accepted and responded
to at:  msnsc21@aol.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

Skinman 6: Leap of Faith

By ML
msnsc21@aol.com
 

7/29/02
Feedback: always welcome
Distribution: Ephemeral, Gossamer, Enigmatic Dr., or if you've
archived me before, yes; if you haven't, please just let me
know and leave headers, email addy, etc. attached. Thanks!
Spoilers: None
Rating: Bittersweet (okay, PG-13 for language)
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: Skinner/other, MSR
Summary:  The future is up for grabs.

Disclaimer:  These characters aren't mine.  They mostly belong
to the actors who portray them, but Chris Carter created them,
and Ten Thirteen and FOX own the rights.  I mean no infringement,
and I'm not making any profit from them.

Notes: This is part of a series that I started not long after
the end of S8, and it veers into AU territory from that point
on.  If you haven't read the rest of the series, you can probably
make sense of this, though you'll get a better idea of how Skinner
arrived at this point (and Mulder and Scully too) by reading them.
If you're curious, they can be found here, starting with "Skinman
on Campus":  http://www.kimpart.com/mlfic.html.  Kimpa has made a
great book cover for the series.  She's got a cool site; while
you're there, check it out!

This story takes place about a year after Skinman 5, if you're
following along <g>.  There are a few more notes at the end.

=====
Skinman 6: Leap of Faith
by ML

Walter Skinner fumbles with the slippery fabric, muttering under
his breath.  His fingers feel like sausages.  He can't seem to
perform the simplest task, even one he's performed nearly every
day of his adult life.  His heart is pounding.  His ears are
ringing.

He looks in the full length mirror standing next to the bed.
He looks the way he always does, except that he sees his face
is flushed.  Not the hectic flush caused by tiny foreign bodies
in his bloodstream, but more than normal.

Am I having a stroke?  he wonders.  He knows it isn't the nanocytes;
the vaccine Scully concocted seems to be eradicating them slowly,
and he has possession of the only control they know of.  But it
would be just like Krycek to find a way to return from the dead
and try to ruin this for him.

He's feared some sort of intervention since the day he submitted
his retirement papers, even though Kersh accepted them without
comment.  Kersh seems different since Mulder had left the FBI,
like some of the fight has gone out of him.  The X-Files have
chugged along, and Kersh's oversight of the division has become
more cursory over time.  It was almost as though he'd had a
personal vendetta against Mulder, and once Mulder was gone, he
lost interest.

Of course, John Doggett doesn't stir controversy the way Mulder
seemed to do just by his presence.  Doggett does a good,
workmanlike job, and his reports are always thorough, if not
very exciting.  He keeps the budget under control, and keeps
Monica Reyes from being too off the wall.  The solve rate isn't
as high, but neither are the expenses.  The X-Files has become
just another division in the FBI.

Skinner knows the truth behind that, too.  There's the X-Files,
and then there's the (x-files).  While Scully remained at Quantico,
Doggett and Reyes seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time
consulting her on cases.  That usually meant that Mulder was
somehow involved, too.  And though Mulder had agreed with Scully
that it was time to turn the files over, and had promised to stay
out of trouble, there are still times when he can't help himself.
They all keep a close watch on anything that might lead to more
information about the conspiracy, or points to any threat toward
William.

There is still danger.  They'd gotten warnings in time so far,
often through some very unlikely sources.  Billy Miles and his
ilk are still at large, but now they seem to have appointed
themselves protectors of Will and his family.   For some reason,
they stay away from Will, but Skinner has been surprised once or
twice by a visit.  Fortunately, he's been alone when they've
occurred.  It was only later that he realized that this was on
purpose.

Who knows how many of them there are out there?  Who knows which
ones are trustworthy?  Not all replicants seem to have the same
agenda.  Skinner has to resist the urge to look for those telltale
bumps on the neck whenever he meets someone new.  He's had no
threats against himself or Peggy, though.  He wonders if he is
now part of the "charmed circle," simply by virtue of his friendship
with Mulder and his family.

It's odd to think of Mulder as "charmed," since most of his life
seems cursed somehow.  So many terrible things have happened to
him, and to those he loved.  But since William's birth, things
have been fairly calm.  Mulder has become somewhat domesticated.
At least on the surface, he and Scully and William live a normal,
mostly uneventful life.  But Mulder has never been one to take
such things for granted.

"I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop," he told Skinner once.
"I'm grateful for the time, but I feel that we need to be ready for
anything.  I don't want to be lulled into a false sense of security.
The gathering of those -- replicants, or whatever the hell they were,
at William's birth, meant something.  I told Scully at the time that
maybe he wasn't what they expected.  But maybe he was, and they just
needed to witness it."

It seems an unanswerable question.  So Skinner stays watchful, as
does Mulder.  Lately they've been talking about doing more than
just keeping watch.

Too many things have happened to all of them to take what they
have lightly.  Skinner has made sacrifices, sure, but he's never
begrudged any personal cost.  It seems to him in retrospect that
he'd known from the beginning how important his association with
Fox Mulder and Dana Scully would become -- not just to him, but
to the world.  He could tell himself that he'd just been concerned
about the agents under his charge, but it's more than that.  If he
hadn't known then, he certainly does now.  They've all seen too
much, been through too much, not to know it.

Skinner shakes his head sharply.  He doesn't want to think about
those things, today of all days.  They'll take what precautions
they can, and they'll deal with what the future is bound to bring.
The past is in the past; it can't harm him now.  It's something
he's struggled with all his life.  He's done his best to put things
behind him in the past few years.  He's more successful at this now
than he used to be.  It helps to have someone to talk to, someone
who listens with an open mind.  Someone to whom, by some miracle,
he's been able to open up.

This sharing of confidences has been a lesson hard-learned, and
sometimes he still struggles with it.  He works in a profession
where it's better not to tell everyone everything you know, and
switching the mental gears at the end of the day is not something
that comes easily to him.  It never has.  That inability or
unwillingness to be open to his loved ones has cost him a lot
over the years.  It cost him Sharon, even though he'd finally
tried to let her in.  For her, it was a case of too little, too
late.

He can't remember his first wedding at all.  He can see his
wedding picture in his mind's eye, and he still has it, packed
away with other mementos he'd rather not have around any more.
He supposes he was nervous, excited, looking forward to the future.
He was a different person then.

He's certainly much less confident of the future now.  He's seen
and done terrible things, been a victim of a few of them, too.
He thinks now that even if they'd reconciled, he and Sharon were
doomed to failure.  He is not the man she married.

If it hadn't been for his friendship with Mulder and Dana, he'd
never have met Peggy.  If it hadn't been for their example, he
might never have had the courage to tell Peggy about the things
that haunted him, the things he knows and fears now.  But as hard
as it has been to let someone else in, he's now seeing some of the
benefits.

How strange that he's learned how to trust again from the most
paranoid man he's ever known, and how to believe from the most
confirmed skeptic.

He remembers the night he finally told Peggy what he understood
about the conspiracy, and his role in it.  Not everything came
out that night, but he feared that even the small amount he
revealed would frighten Peggy away.  To her credit, she listened,
and she kept an open mind.  She called Dana the next day, and talked
to her for a long time too.

And she believed.  Not just in what he said, but she believed in
him.  She trusted him to tell her what he could, but she pushed
him just enough if he got too quiet or seemed to be withholding
too much.  He knows that it's not only the example of Mulder and
Dana, but the failure of his relationship with Sharon prepared him
to take this step now.  He agonized over it for some time.  What
did he have to offer Peggy?  She has a full and happy life without
him.  But she accepted him instantly when he finally broached the
subject of marriage, with no hesitation at all.  It was a humbling
experience, and another lesson for him.  He will do his best to
make sure that Peggy's faith in him is not misplaced.

Skinner jumps at the sharp rap on the door of the guest bedroom
as though it's a rifle report.

"Are you decent?" comes the expected voice from the other side of
the door.

"Get your butt in here, Mulder," he growls.

The door opens and Mulder enters, wearing a beautifully tailored
gray suit and the ugliest tie Skinner has ever seen.  He realized
long ago that the ties were just another way for Mulder to spit in
the eye of convention.  He also noticed over the years that when
garish ties became more common -- when even Jerry Garcia got into
the act -- Mulder's ties became more conventional.  Skinner is
actually tickled that Mulder has reverted to his old ways for
this occasion.

"How's it hangin', Skinman?" Mulder says with a grin.  "Having
second thoughts?  Need my help to get out the back window?"

"Shut up, Mulder," Skinner says.  "I need your help with this
damned tie."

"Had to get Scully's help with mine," Mulder replies. "I'm out of
practice."

"Did she pick your tie out, too?"  Skinner asks.

Mulder grins again.  "What do you think?"  he asks.  He stands in
front of Skinner and flips the ends of the tie around expertly,
muttering some story about a bunny rabbit and a hole as he makes
the knot.

Skinner looks at him, bemused.  Mulder gives him a lopsided grin.
"It's how Scully taught Will how to tie his tie."

Skinner continues to stare at him.  "Right," is all he says.

Mulder looks at his watch.  "It's early yet.  Wanna go get a
beer?"

"Mulder --" Skinner says, exasperated, and realizes that Mulder
is making a joke.  "We should have just gone to the courthouse,"
he mutters.

"Then we couldn't have had this swell party," Mulder says,
settling himself in the armchair by the bed.  "And since Maggie
was so kind as to offer her house --"

Skinner nods.  As he got to know Mulder and Dana better, he's
been included in Scully family gatherings from time to time.  As
he and Peggy got closer, Maggie was always sure to invite her as
well.  When he and Peggy had started discussing wedding plans,
and Maggie discovered that neither had surviving parents, she had
kindly offered to help with arrangements.

"I think she always hoped that she'd be able to do something like
this for Scully," Mulder says.

"I guess you and Dana didn't take her up on the same offer?" Skinner
asks.  He realizes he doesn't really know anything about their
wedding; he'd been out of touch with them from about the time of
Will's birth until several months after.

"We didn't really give her the chance," Mulder says.  "It was kind
of a sore point for a long time.  It still is, actually."

Skinner stares at Mulder.  "Do you mean, you've never --"

"-- made it legal?"  Mulder smiles.  "Not in Scully's mom's eyes."

"But you wear rings, I've heard people call Dana Mrs. Mulder,
and it doesn't seem to bother her --"

"Yes, and people have called me Mr. Scully, too, if they know her
and not me," Mulder says.  "It doesn't bother me either, except I
don't want to be mistaken for her brother."  He fiddles with his
ring a little.  He looks back up at Skinner.

"We've been married for years," Mulder says.  "It was an arranged
marriage, performed by Blevins and Spender.  You were witness to
it.  I just don't think they intended that it be anything more
than a marriage of their convenience, and I know they didn't expect
it to last."

Skinner can't think of anything to say in response.  He remembers
those early days too well, how at odds he was with Blevins' decision,
how, even then, he knew that there was some hidden agenda at work
there.  He'd barely known Mulder then, except by reputation, and
hadn't know Dana Scully at all.

Then, somehow, the X-Files Division had been given some sort of
official nod, and he'd been told he'd have oversight over it, not
Blevins.  Possibly because Blevins had dotted-line reporting to
Skinner.  He didn't know.  It had made him uneasy from the
beginning.  He'd been all for just shutting it down, and sending
Mulder back to VCU when Blevins presented the assignment of a new
partner for him as a fait accompli.  Mulder is right, he'd been a
witness, though a reluctant one, right from the start.

"I guess Maggie's forgiven you and Dana for `living in sin,' since
she's still speaking to you," Skinner says.

"I didn't say we were living in sin," Mulder says,  "though I sure
like the sound of it.  No, we're really married, and we have the
certificate to prove it.  But Dana's mom wasn't happy about the
circumstances.  She always hoped that Dana would be married in the
church."

"And what about Dana?" Skinner asks.  He finds it hard to believe
that Dana Scully wouldn't have an opinion on this, and can't
believe it would mesh with Mulder's.

"Hard to believe, but true," Mulder says, as though he read
Skinner's mind.  "I know you know this: I've been married
before."

Skinner nods.  He knows all about it.  When he took on
responsibility for Mulder and the X-Files, the first thing he
did was send for Mulder's personnel file.

"You also know that my `wife,' such as she was, is dead now," he
says, turning the ring on his finger around and around.  "Scully
didn't know about her until much later.  It felt like ancient
history when I first met Scully, and for a long time, we didn't
discuss much of a, um, personal nature."

To Skinner, that's harder to believe than any case on the X-Files.
To all outsiders, Mulder and Scully seemed so in tune with each
other, he'd been certain, along with half the FBI, that they'd
been intimate years before it had actually happened.  He wondered
when Scully had found out about Mulder's marriage.  How had it made
her