Summary: The strands of Walter, Alex and Alexander's lives weave themselves together into the pattern of a loving family.

'Good fences make good neighbors'

Alexander - 11 months

Home Early morning in mid-July

Alex was out on his feet, literally.

When Walter walked into the kitchen, his lover's eyes were closing and his head was beginning to nod forward. Not such a good thing considering their son was sound asleep in the carrier strapped to Alex's chest. Not so surprising either considering Alex had spent half the night walking the floor with the fretful baby. Mighty grateful to have wakened in time, Walter hurried forward to put his arms around his lover.

"Alex ... " he said softly.

Alex shuddered slightly and straightened up.

"M'wake," he murmured.

"Sure you are, babe. Let me take him."

Alex looked down at the baby.

"Careful ... he's just gone to sleep."

Walter opened the straps and lifted Alexander out. He was sweaty from the summer heat and the comforting embrace of his father. He stretched a little and curled up again, his fist coming to rest against the rosy spot on his cheek where the awkward tooth was being cut.

"He's hot," Walter said. "Not a temperature ... just hot."

"Yeah, it never cooled down at all ... and he wouldn't let me put him down," Alex agreed, taking off the carrier and opening the French doors to the yard. "Take him outside."

It was marginally cooler outside and Walter put Alexander in his Moses basket and carried him outside to the deck. He set the basket down beside the sun lounger.

"Go lie down, babe, I'll start breakfast," he told Alex.

Fortunately for them both, it was Saturday and two days of quality time stretched out in front of them. Unfortunately, quality time in the Skinner-Svetlov household these days consisted mostly of Alex and Walter taking it in turn to catch up on sleep - for since his first tooth had made a grudging appearance, Alexander, who had never been the world's greatest sleeper, had developed a taste for short, light dozes interspersed with long periods of grouchy 'wide-awakeness'. Neither of them groused or complained about it - that would have required too much effort - instead they put whatever energy was left over from work and household chores into easing the pain and discomfort Alexander was feeling.

Walter opened the refrigerator and looked inside. Nothing healthy, he decided. They were overdue an indulgence. He reached for the Canadian bacon ... and the eggs ... and the butter ... and the maple syrup ...

When he had set the mountain of food out on the table, Walter walked to the French doors to call his lover. The words died on his lips because he found Alex lying flat out across one of the sun loungers in a deep, much needed sleep. Leaving him to it, he went back inside and ate a leisurely, strangely quiet breakfast.

It was a little over an hour before Alex stirred. When he did, Walter put down the file he was reading and got up to make a second breakfast.

"Feeling better?" he asked, watching Alex walking in through the French doors.

"Mmmuuh," Alex replied, running his fingers through his unruly hair.

"Come, eat."

"Shower first."

"Don't be long."

Walter filled the pan with bacon and switched on the coffee maker. He was slicing the bagels when Alex's arm slid around his waist and his seeking mouth latched onto his neck. Slowly it made its way up to his earlobe, to suck and nibble on the soft, sensitive flesh. Walter breathed in sharply, then sighed.

"What?" Alex asked.

"Teeth aren't all bad ... I'd almost forgotten," he answered, in a low, sexy rumble.

The pitch and cadence of the words had a 'light the blue touch paper and retire' affect on Alex.

"Oh fuck ... yes ... it's been so fucking long ... " he declared and in a sudden, needy surge he was all over his lover ... his mouth covering Walter's ... demanding entry ... his hand sliding beneath sweat pants to claim what rightly belonged only to him.

Walter responded in kind, reaching round to grasp Alex's ass, bringing their hardons tight together. They thrust against each other rhythmically and with each forceful movement their arousal increased exponentially.

"Wanna fuck you ..." Alex told his lover.

"Mmmm ... yesss ... yesss ... " Walter agreed, pulling away with difficulty and stumbling into the bathroom to grab a condom and a bottle of lube. Slamming the drawer shut, he turned to find Alex, already naked, close on his heels.

"Off," Alex ordered, tugging at Walter's sweat pants and not really getting anywhere because his mouth had covered Walter's again and the feeling was just too damned good to concentrate on anything else.

Walter struggled to free himself from the clingy garment without breaking the contact. It took some time and a great deal of effort, but he managed it - and when his body met Alex's skin on skin, it was the trigger for the main event.

Breaking away from the kiss, Alex ordered huskily, "Assume the position."

Walter did as he was told. Leaning his crossed forearms on the bathroom wall, he rested his forehead against them and stood with his feet shoulder width apart. In acknowledgment of the willing submission, Alex ran his hand sensuously downward from his lover's neck, along his spine to his sculpted ass. As always, Walter shuddered when the caress delved lower to the private place where only Alex was welcome.

"Yes!" he called out.

"It's coming, babe," Alex promised, reaching for the lube and cursing the slowness of having to work single-handed.

"Ready now ... gonna make you feel it ..."

Hand slick with lube, Alex returned to the task.

"Further apart," he instructed, trailing his fingers back and forwards in the crack.

Walter shuffled into the required position, then groaned loudly as the first penetration was made.

"More," he demanded.

"You got it," Alex said as he worked in a second finger and began to stretch the familiar tightness.

He moved a step forward and leaned against Walter's flank. The touch of a muscled thigh against his hard cock made him gasp and in reaction he bit down, none too gently, on his lover's shoulder.

The sensation almost overwhelmed Walter.

"Enough," he stated, straightening up and dislodging his lover's fingers.

Getting down on his knees, he grabbed a couple of towels off the rail and bunched them up to cushion the hard surface of the toilet seat. He leaned forward and placing his weight on it, offered his ass to the man he loved. Alex didn't need any more encouragement. He stepped in between Walter's open legs and knelt down, his dick finding its way between the firm, rounded cheeks. He thrust forward a little, then backed off, the undulating movement sending ripples of pleasure along every nerve in his body.

"Stop fucking around," Walter told him, resting his chest on the towels and reaching back to part his cheeks. "Do it."

Alex obeyed. Carefully, he reached down and lined up with the tiny opening. Fascinated, he watched it stretch beyond all reason to take him in. The tightness surrounded and consumed him. Reluctantly, against his will, his eyes closed and his back arched, forcing him to exchange the delight of watching for the ecstasy of feeling, as he moved deeper and deeper into his lover.

It lasted longer than it should have, considering the number of days they had gone without. When, at last, the irresistible tide swept over them both - Walter only a few seconds behind lover - they groaned out their pleasure and eased themselves down onto the smooth, cool tiles of the bathroom floor. After a minute or two, they shifted into a more comfortable embrace.

"Fuck ... that was good," Alex said.

"Mmmm," was the only reply.

They lay holding onto each other, savouring the 'oneness' that always came in the wake of lovemaking.

"Better check on the little man," Walter murmured, rolling away from his lover, too soon.

Alex laughed.

"No need ... he's doing fine ... and believe me ... nothing about him is 'little'," he said, curling his hand around Walter's still sensitive cock.

"Uunhh ..." Walter responded, biting down on his lower lip.

Alex leaned over to lick across Walter's mouth, encouraging it to relax and open so his tongue could explore inside. They kissed teasingly and intently until Alex began to feel interest reawakening in his dick. Reluctantly he pulled away.

"I want you in bed ... naked ... the rest of the day ... " he growled.

"Dream on, babe," Walter chuckled. "Unless you want to take Bethy's advice and make up a bottle with warm milk and a little whiskey ...?"

That sobered Alex up and he pushed himself to his feet - a disapproving look on his face.

"Let's get cleaned up," he said, switching back into 'parent' mode fast enough to sustain whiplash.

Grinning, Walter followed him into the shower. The intricate, tense relationship between his lover and his sister was a source of endless fascination and amusement to him.

Ten minutes later they were entering the kitchen together, Walter heading towards the stove and what remained of the second breakfast he had cooked that morning and Alex walking out onto the deck to check on their son.

"Walter!" Alex's roar made him drop the pan with a clatter.

He was on the deck before the yell stopped reverberating. Alex was tearing around the deck, searching frantically. After checking the empty Moses basket and surveying the extent of the deck, Walter joined him. Alex halted and they looked at each other for a split second. They said nothing. Walter couldn't speak - he was genuinely speechless and his heart was pounding so loud in his ears he couldn't hear anything. He could tell that Alex was in the same condition. In spite of what they were feeling, their training instinctively kicked in, and they began a systematic search of the yard.

"HERE!" Alex yelled from the side gate.

Walter jogged to him. The latch on the gate was unfastened and it lay open several centimetres. Alex wrenched the gate open and ran out into the front yard, Walter a second behind. They searched the big open space. No Alexander. They ran out onto the sidewalk, halted and scanned the length of the street. Still no sign. A frantic glance at each other and they parted, Alex heading north, Walter heading south. Walter got less than a block before he saw Mr. Horowitz, chairperson of the local residents association, coming out of the Ludlows driveway - carrying Alexander. The child gurgled with excitement when he spotted Walter, then he went back to mouthing happily on a stick of hard candy.

"ALEX!" Walter called over his shoulder as he jogged towards the old man.

"Mr. Horowitz -"

"Ah, Mr. Skinner, maybe you can help!" the old man interrupted, "I just found this little one crawling along the sidewalk."

"Um ... yes ... he's -"

"I know the Ludlows have a baby but they don't seem to be home, so it can't be theirs."

"Uh, no ... actually he's -"

Alex skidded to a halt beside Walter and immediately reached out to take Alexander. The elderly man frowned and stepped back. Alex followed aggressively and Walter watched his hand reach for a gun that wasn't there. A sudden unease became apparent in Mr. Horowitz's demeanour.

"Mr. Horowitz found Alexander, Alex," Walter intervened swiftly. "I can't tell you how grateful we are, Mr. Horowitz ... I have no idea how the yard gate got opened but somehow -"

"He's your baby, Mr. Skinner?" the old man asked, surprise etched in every line on his face.

Walter nodded. "Oh, yes ... absolutely."

"Really? I didn't know you were married."

"Well ... I'm not -"

"Yes, you are," Alex snapped, holding up his ring. "He's married to me ... and the kid is ours."

In a cobra-like movement, he reached out and took Alexander out of the man's arms.

"Alexander," he murmured, holding the baby close.

"Well ... um ... I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Horowitz," Walter told the stunned senior citizen. "I guess ... ah ... we should take him home now and check him out ... make sure he's ... you know ... okay. Good bye ... and thanks again, Mr. Horowitz."

Somehow he resisted the strange urge he felt to salute the elderly man and, moving briskly to catch up with Alex, he headed for the safe haven of home.

It took both of them a day or two to recover from the jangled nerves and the guilt. Alex remained totally pissed at his partner's disavowal for considerably longer, of course. So when Walter came home a week later to find the back yard enclosed by a fence - of State Penitentiary proportions - he had the good sense to quickly mask his initial reaction, nod his approval and comment, "Great job!" as he paced out the perimeter with his husband.

'Close encounter of the unconditional kind'

Alexander - 2 years, 4 months

Sarasota

"Gammy," Alexander called out.

"What, my precious?" Vera asked, looking up from her book.

"Bug," Alexander said, pointing at his leg with a chubby finger.

"Let me see," she said, leaving aside her book and sitting down on the rug beside her grandson.

From where he lay sprawled on a sun lounger in the shade of a live oak, Alex opened his eyes to watch the proceedings.

"It's a ladybug, Alexander," Vera told him. "See its red back and black spots?"

"Bug!"

"Lay-dee-bug," Vera enunciated carefully.

"Lay-dee-bug," Alexander repeated.

"That's right, sweetheart," Vera said. "Watch."

She placed her finger on Alexander's leg and encouraged the insect to climb onboard. Then she held it up so Alexander could get a close look at the little creature. She watched his eyes grow wide with fascination as they followed the journey of the ladybird along her finger and onto the back of her hand.

"Me! Me!" Alexander shouted, bouncing up and down.

Vera laughed out loud. "Okay, give me your hand."

Alexander held out his hand and sat very still. Carefully his grandmother laid her hand against his until the forward progress of the insect carried it onto the little boy's hand.

"Ooooo," he murmured, totally entranced by the speck of life moving without sensation across his skin.

"Daddy," he called as he struggled to stand without dislodging the ladybug.

"Here you go," Vera said, setting him firmly on his feet.

"Daddy, Daddy, Lay-dee-bug."

Alex swung his feet off the lounger and sat up to participate in his son's adventure.

"Let me see, baby."

He reached out and gathered Alexander up to sit on his lap.

"Lay-dee-bug, Daddy."

"That's right, Alexander, a ladybug. See it's got seven spots. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven."

"One, two, fife!"

"Good boy!"

"And it's got six legs. One, two, three, four, five, six."

"One, two, fife!"

"Clever, Alexander."

The child beamed up at his Dad, then straightened his body and slid down from his perch. With over-careful, wobbly steps he returned to his Grandma and together they practised his counting until the novelty waned. Suddenly he went very still so he could watch the insect migrate from the back to the palm of his hand. He glanced up at his Grandma briefly, then looked back down at his hand ... as it began to close with slow deliberation.

"Ah-ah!" Vera warned. "Be gentle with the ladybug, Alexander."

He looked up at her, unconvinced.

"The ladybug is one of God's creatures," she told him. "Good boys don't hurt God's creatures."

Unseen behind her, Alex stiffened slightly and his smile faded.

"God kweetyur," Alexander repeated, opening his hand.

Immediately, the insect flew away.

"'Way!" Alexander pouted. "Lay-dee-bug 'way!"

"The ladybug had to go home," his grandmother told him.

Unsatisfied with that explanation, he looked over at this father and held out his empty hand, palm up. "Lay-dee-bug, Daddy."

"Grandma's right, baby. The ladybug had to go do ladybug things."

"Want to look for more ladybugs, Alexander?" Vera asked, standing up and holding out her hand.

"More bugs," he said, nodding his head up and down.

He caught hold of her hand, then looked over at his Dad. Alex was leaning back against the lounger with his arm held defensively across his chest and a blank expression on his face. Seeing him, Alexander yanked his hand free from his Vera's grasp and half ran, half tumbled over to the lounger. Clambering up onto it, he regained his Dad's full attention; drawing him back from some cold, distant place in the process. Alex wrapped his arm around the little boy and hugged him close.

"Hey," he said, looking into the knowing eyes.

Alexander's arms went around his daddy's neck.

"Love you, baby," Alex told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on the soft cheek.

"Bugs," Alexander reminded.

"Okay, bugs it is," Alex said, sitting up, "let's go see what we can find."

Hand in hand, they walked over to where Vera stood waiting. Alexander reached up to take her hand and together the three of them set off across the orchard in search of more Adalia Bipunctata.

"Up!" prompted Alexander.

Alex and Vera exchanged glances.

"One, two, three, whoosh!" they counted down before gently swinging him into the air to fill the bright afternoon with the sound of childish laughter.

'Not every dodo is dead'

Alexander - 2 years, 8 months

Elizabeth Skinner's house, Baltimore

Christmas Day in the evening

"Come on, baby," Alex coaxed, "bedtime."

It didn't take much coaxing. Alexander had been awake and on the patter since the crack of dawn. There had been the frenzy of Santa's arrival in the early morning, followed by the drive to Aunt Elizabeth's house for Christmas dinner with the rest of the Skinner clan. By the time they arrived, the house was already awash with kids, and Alexander, after an hour or so of shadowing his Daddy, threw diffidence to the wind and dived right in.

It had been a great day, but seven o'clock was fast approaching and since there had been no afternoon nap, a kind of grouchy exhaustion was taking hold.

"Say good night to Jack and Beth, you'll see them in the morning," Alex said.

Giving his slightly older cousins a kiss each, Alexander took his father's hand and followed him meekly from the room. Twenty minutes later, he was bathed and tucked up in the travel crib beside Walter and Alex's bed, already fast asleep. Leaving the door slightly open, Alex went back downstairs to join the family, of which he had finally begun to feel a part.

Though the company was good and the banter congenial, around eleven o'clock the early start to the day finally caught up with the parents in the gathering, and as of one mind they decided to call it a night. Together Walter and Alex headed upstairs, moving quietly into their bedroom so as not to wake Alexander. It was unnecessary. Alexander was wide awake.

"Dodo," he said, his hands clapping.

Alex's worried green eyes looked into Walter's.

"Houston," he said. "I think we have a problem."

The previous night

"You carry the carrots, baby" Alex suggested, thereby avoiding the possibility of spilled milk and trodden on cookies.

"Oo-kay," Alexander agreed, reaching up for the plastic dish that contained a chunk of carrot for each of Santa's reindeers and an extra one for Rudolf.

They processed into the family room where Walter had already set out a small table, halfway between the Christmas tree and the fireplace.

"That's right, half pint," Walter guided. "Put the carrots here."

With great care, Alexander set the dish down and watched his Daddy place the tray with the big glass of milk and the plate of 'extra special, Alexander helped to bake 'em, double chocolate chip cookies' on the table beside it.

"Santa's going to love these cookies," Walter said, glancing meaningfully at the layer of winter blubber that had gathered round Alex's midriff. "I just hope they don't make him too fat."

That earned him an eye narrowing scowl.

"Santa fat!" Alexander told his foolish father.

"Of course he is, baby," Alex agreed. "It's cold this time of year and Santa's smart!"

"Santa smart!" Alexander repeated, clapping his hands.

"And he's on his way!" Alex said, scooping the little boy up and eliciting a howl of delighted giggles. "Want to see where he's got to?"

"Yes, yes!"

"Okay, let's go see." With his son hoisted over his shoulder, Alex headed for the study where, since late afternoon, the two of them had been following the global progress of the sleigh via the NORAD website.

"Hold up there a minute," Walter said.

They turned back.

"Isn't there something else we promised to leave for Santa?" he prompted.

Alex gave him another scowl.

Cookies ... milk ... cawots!" Alexander cheerfully listed.

"Yes," Walter agreed, walking over to lift Alexander out of Alex's grasp, "but what about that old dodo? The one Alexander is way too old for. Remember we said we'd leave that for Santa too?"

He carried the little boy over to the 'Santa' chair and sat down. Alexander's excited expression disappeared and he stared down at the pacifier that was carefully pinned to his pyjama top.

"You're not a baby anymore, Alexander," Walter continued. "Santa's going to bring lots of toys for a big, grown-up boy tonight so why don't you let him have your dodo, then he can give it to a baby who really needs it."

He looked over at Alex. "That's the right thing to do, isn't it Daddy?"

The expression on Alex's face belied the words that came out of his mouth. "If Dada's thinks it's right ... then ... yeah ... I guess so."

"See, Alexander," Walter continued, ignoring the desultory tone of his spouse, "it would make your daddies happy ... and Santa ... and your paediatrician."

Alexander took hold of his dodo and looked at it solemnly.

"Okay," he said happily enough.

"Good boy!" Walter said, bestowing a proud hug and kiss.

He began to unpin the pacifier.

"Uh-uh, Dada ..." Alexander shook his head furiously, " ... 'sander go bye bye first ... with Daddy."

Walter's euphoria evaporated a little, but he capitulated and stood up to let Alex take his place in the comfortable armchair. Placing Alexander in the crook of his lover's arm, he bargained, "Just five minutes, Alexander."

Dodo in mouth, Alexander burrowed as deeply as he could into Alex's cuddling embrace and began sucking contentedly.

Five 'five minutes' later Walter ran out of patience.

"That's been a very long bye bye, Alexander," he said. "Time to go to bed."

"More bye bye, Dada," Alexander pleaded, holding up one chubby finger. "Daddy -"

"Listen, Alexander," Alex said in a sudden moment of inspiration. "Can you hear sleigh bells?"

All three of them froze in position and listened very carefully.

Totally convinced, Alexander nodded enthusiastically. He spat out the dodo and held it out to his Daddy.

"Okay, baby," Alex said, unpinning the contentious item. "Let's get you in bed before Santa comes down the chimney."

In record time, the little boy was tucked up in bed and if he was not asleep, then he was giving a good impression of it. Alex and Walter quietly left his room and headed downstairs. They had a long night of assembly instructions and wrapping paper ahead of them, but before they started Walter poured them both a glass of smoky whiskey.

Sitting down in the armchair he picked up Alexander's dodo and looked at it with undisguised distaste.

"What is with this thing, anyway?" he asked.

Alex snorted loudly.

"What?"

"Are you honestly trying to tell me you don't understand the concept of oral fixation, Walter?" Alex asked, his expression incredulous. "'Cos if you are, remember this is me you're talking to .. and I gotta tell you ... that dog don't hunt!"

Walter blushed an intense shade of crimson.

At the sight, Alex snorted a second time. "But don't worry, babe, Alex isn't going to take away your dodo," he promised in the tone of voice he normally reserved for Alexander's more anxious moments.

That earned him a hearty thwack from a well aimed chunk of carrot.

"Dodo!" Alexander called again.

Walter and Alex exchanged glances, each hoping the other one knew what to do.

Since Alex just shrugged his shoulders, it fell to Walter to take the lead. So with a positive voice and a smile, he reached down and tucked the comforter more firmly around his son.

"Sleepytime," he said.

Alexander kicked the comforter off. "Dodo!" he repeated.

"Santa has the dodo, Alexander," Walter said reasonably. "You left it for him with his milk and cookies, remember?"

"Dodo! Dodo!" Alexander demanded.

"You're too big for a dodo," Walter told him, deciding to take the psychological approach. "Only babies have dodos."

It didn't work.

"Dodo, Dadda!"

Walter turned to Alex, who had moved to stand beside the crib.

"Any ideas?" he asked.

Alex shrugged again. He reached down to stroke the side of Alexander's face.

"Go to sleep, baby."

"Dodo, Daddy!"

"No dodo, Alexander, time to go to sleep."

Alexander's face crumpled and he began to cry.

Alex straightened up. "I thought it was too good to be true," he told Walter.

"He didn't cry last night," Walter said, bemused.

"Santa was in play last night," Alex reminded.

"So what should we do?"

"Let him cry, I guess."

Walter nodded reluctant agreement. He leaned down into the crib and kissed the unhappy child's forehead.

"Sssshhh! Go to sleep, sweetheart," he coaxed.

"Mm'dodo," Alexander pleaded.

Steeling his heart, Walter straightened up. The crying took on a new momentum. "You go ahead," he told Alex. "I'll stay with him."

Alex went into the bathroom while Walter reached over and turned the lamp down to a faint glow. Placing his hand lightly on Alexander's tummy, he murmured soothing words while he shared the distress his son was feeling.

The intensity of the crying was undiminished when Alex finished in the bathroom and came to take Walter's place.

"Go ahead," he said: lifting Alexander up and holding him close to his body.

Over the next hour they tried every strategy in their repertoire. They even tried turning off the light and ignoring the hiccoughing wails. Ten minutes of that brought a gentle tapping on their bedroom door.

"Walter," Elizabeth called quietly. "Is everything okay?"

With a sigh, Walter flicked on the lamp and pulled on his robe. He opened the door to reveal his sister's anxious face.

"We have a bit of a situation here, Bethy," he explained. "We talked ... " he looked back at Alex who was lifting Alexander out of the crib "... well, I talked Alexander into giving up his pacifier. I think it was maybe a bit too soon."

"Poor, baby," she said. "Is there anything I can do?"

Walter shrugged helplessly.

"I'm going to take him downstairs," Alex said as he passed them by. "I don't want to wake the rest of the kids."

They brought him down to the family room where his Uncle Kenneth was engrossed in a thriller he'd been given for Christmas. He listened placidly to the explanation of Alexander's distress, then set the book aside.

"Let the kid have his pacifier, Walt," he said with a hint of steel in his voice.

The words and the tone took Walter by surprise. Kenneth was the confirmed fence sitter in the family - unlike his two highly opinionated siblings.

"No can do, Ken, it's in Charlottes- " he glanced over at Alexander "-um ... Santa's got it," he finished, erring on the side of caution.

His brother stood up and lifted his coat down from the rack.

"Is that all night drug store still open over on Wilmington, Bethy?" he asked.

"I think so ... but it's Christmas ... you might have to try a few places. I'll make a list."

He did have to 'try a few' places - eight to be precise: all randomly located across the greater Baltimore area. At least with Walter along for the ride the two brothers got the chance to catch up on what was happening in their lives. A little after three in the morning, they parked the car in the drive and let themselves back into the house.

Everyone was fast asleep, including Alexander who lay wrapped in a comforter beside his Daddy on the big couch in the family room. Elizabeth was snoring softly on the other couch. On the coffee table in front of her was one of the old family photograph albums. It was open.

"Hey, come see this, Walt," Kenneth whispered, dropping the paper sack containing two brand new pacifiers - one for use and one for emergencies - on the table and picking up the album.

Walter wiped his steamed up glasses and focused on the photograph his brother was pointing to. It was a black and white snapshot of a long ago kid's birthday party. His birthday party to be precise. The cake on the table in front of him proclaimed, 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY Walter' and was decorated with four flickering candles - and hanging on a string around his neck was a grubby, ungainly looking pacifier.

He looked up at Kenneth.

"I'm never going to live this down, am I?" he asked.

The quiet guffaw confirmed his worst fears.

'A Sticky Moment'

Alexander - 3 years, 11 months

The Hoover Building
8.50 am

"That was not my understanding of the situation, Agent Odone," Deputy Director Skinner said with authority. "Your report in November anticipated that the re-organisation would be completed by the end of last year. It is now the middle of February."

"We would have been on schedule, sir, had the computer system been up and running as promised."

"Why was it not?"

Agent Odone was thrown by the abruptness of the question and the hard look that accompanied it.

"Um ... well ... apparently the software had to be re-written to make it compatible with the Hoover system .. and then they had to set up a simulation to de-bug it. That took much long-"

"Why didn't the feasibility study identify this problem?" Skinner interrupted.

"The consultants who carried out the study didn't pick up on it, sir. It wasn't until we switched the system on that the problem manifested itself."

"Mmmm ... do you have an accounting for the delay and the re-design?"

"I'm working on that, sir. I'll have it for you tomorrow."

"I want to meet with this consultancy firm. I'd like to hear from them personally how they managed to foul up so badly."

"I'll set up an appointment, sir."

"Do it now, Agent."

"I'll get their details from my office, sir."

"Don't bother, I have a copy of the file here," Skinner said, lifting up his briefcase and placing it before him on the desk. "I was reviewing it last night."

He snapped the briefcase open and raised the lid. A quick glance inside and he went completely still. His hand frozen in mid-reach.

Somewhere in his memory a circuit clicked and a conversation he'd only half listened to that morning replayed - in high fidelity Dolby stereo.

"Don't touch the knife, baby," Alex instructed. "Here's a spoon."

"Ta ta, Daddy."

"That's enough peanut butter."

"That's too much peanut butter, Alexander! Here, take another slice ... careful now ... just enough this time."

"What time will you be home, Walter?"

... mmmm ... this is good coffee ... where did I put the Odone report? ... here it is ... damn ... where's my watch? ... time for more coffee ... awoh! ... hot ... need to make that dental appointment ...

"What time?"

"What, what time?"

"That's what I asked you, Walter. What time will you be home tonight?"

"Um ... late."

"How late?"

"Late late."

"Will I hold dinner?"

"Yeah, I'm working straight through lunch."

"Will I make you a sandwich?"

"No time."

"... sam-ige, Dada!"

... yucky brown ... with crunchy bits ... everywhere ... ewww ...

"Ta ta, Alexander."

... peanut butter in the kid's hair ... don't get too close ... haven't time to change shirts ...

"Um ... Alex ... look."

"Oh shit! Put the spoon down, baby!"

... t-shirt getting stripped off ... gotta get my watch ... better move it ...

"Bring me down a clean t-shirt, Walter."

... stairs ... nursery ... t-shirt ... bedroom ... watch ... stairs ...

"T-shirt."

"Thanks, babe."

"Put your sandwich in your lunchbox, baby ... that's it ... close it up ... good boy."

... jacket ... keys ... briefcase ... kiss baby ... kiss Alex ... mmm ... bacon ... tastes good ... smells good ... looks sooooo good ... later ... yeah ...

"Say good bye to Dada."

"Bye, Dada."

... sticky hand ... waving ...

"Love you two."

... two smiles ... one outlined in peanut butter ...

... work ... gonna be late ... home soon ...

Half a jar of peanut butter, two days worth of paperwork and the suede lining of a briefcase do not make a good combination.

"Um ... Deputy Director?"

Walter Skinner looked up at Agent Odone.

"I must have left the report at home, Agent, so you go ahead and set up an appointment to meet with the consultants sometime next week. You can check my schedule with my assistant."

With a grateful, "Yes, sir," he was gone.

Walter sat down and surveyed the debris. He had only himself to blame. How many times had he told his son that sharing is a good thing?

He smiled; imagining how Alex must have torn the kitchen apart looking for the missing 'sam-ige'.

Reaching out he pressed the button on the intercom.

"Marie, what's good for cleaning up peanut butter?"

'Meeting trouble half way - the Krycek Method'

Alexander - 4 years, 8 months

Home

Alex's car was parked in the driveway when Walter arrived home. He was surprised to find it there. The week before, Alex, knowing he would be expected to attend the faculty dinner honouring Professor Lermantov, had meticulously arranged for Alexander's sitter to stay until Walter got home. As late as that morning, he had heard Alex talking to Marcy on the phone confirming the details - for the third time. He had smiled to himself and let Alex get on with it. But for some reason, his lover had returned home early and Marcy's car was nowhere to be seen. Intrigued, he locked the car and headed for the house.

"Alex?" he called, closing the front door.

"In here," Alex responded.

After hanging up his coat in the hall closet, Walter walked through the family room and into the kitchen. He crossed the room to the sink where Alex was washing vegetables. Wrapping his arms around his lover's waist he rested his weight against the strong, sturdy body and began to nuzzle the sensitive patch behind Alex's right ear.

"Something wrong, babe?" he asked.

"Uh-uh," Alex murmured, leaning into the embrace. "I got finished earlier than I expected and since the dinner isn't until eight, I ... just felt like coming home."

"I'm glad you did," Walter told him, holding on a little tighter as he asked, "Where's Alexander?"

Alex nodded towards the window. "Out in the yard."

Walter looked out and quickly spotted their little boy, playing happily in his sand pit, building 'pies' in neat rows.

"He looks settled," Walter said, his voice turning into a sexy growl. "Wanna make out while the making out's good?"

Alex continued to stare out the window and Walter could tell from the tension in his body that there wasn't going to be any making out.

"Alex?"

"Alex?" He nudged his lover into awareness.

"What? Uh, sorry ... what were you saying?"

"Nothing, babe." He dropped his arms and stepped back from the embrace. "I'm going out to the kid."

"Okay," Alex said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically listless.

Walter frowned as he walked out into the yard.

"Where's my boy?" he called out, putting on the gruff voice Alexander loved.

"Dada," Alexander called, looking up at his father. "M'making pies."

"I can see that, half pint. Want some help?"

"Uh-uh."

Walter pulled up a garden chair and sat down.

"How was school today?" he asked.

"Bobby got sick," Alexander reported, with enthusiasm. "All yucky squishy on his lunch -"

"I get the picture, Alexander," Walter interrupted. "Hey, I didn't get a hug."

Alexander dropped his spade and clambered up onto his father's knee. He wound his arms around Walter's neck and held on tight. After a few seconds of quality hugging, Alexander began to scramble up Walter's chest, his sneakers leaving sandy prints on the immaculate Brooks Brothers suit.

"Hey, Kiddo," Walter chuckled. "Where ya goin?"

"Up ... high ..." Alexander told him, as he continued to climb.

"Careful," Walter warned gently, holding onto the little legs for security and to give the child a boost upward.

With his father's help, Alexander squirmed his way round to sit astride the broad shoulders. His chubby hands reached down to catch hold of Walter's ears.

"Ouch!" Walter complained, detaching the little mitts and holding them in a gentle grip.

Walter stood up and asked, "Want to go see Daddy?"

"Uh-huh. Cookies, Dada?"

"After dinner," Walter promised, walking back towards the house.

"Okay."

"Daddy! Daddy!" Alexander called out.

Alex glanced out through the kitchen window. He smiled, but for the first time ever, it wasn't his special 'Alexander' smile and Walter's stomach clenched. Not wanting to let either of his loved ones become aware of his concern, he smiled as he and Alexander 'vroom vroomed' their way up the yard and into the house.

"Cartoons, Dada?" Alexander asked when his father set him down on his feet.

"Ten minutes, half pint," Walter stated. "After you wash your hands!"

With the clock ticking, he took off towards the downstairs bathroom. Walter watched him disappear before turning towards his lover.

"What's wrong, Alex?" Walter asked in a quiet tone that left no room for evasion.

Alex looked up from the creamed corn he was stirring and sighed. Walter searched the well loved face and recognized the signs that told him Alex was ready to talk.

"At coffee break this morning Vassily told us about finding a goldfish in the VCR. Apparently Sasha was trying to 'play' it."

Vassily Surinov was one of Alex's friends at the university and Sasha was one of Vassily's four-year-old twins. Walter grinned, then raised a questioning eyebrow.

"That started everyone else off, telling horror stories about the things their kids had done."

Walter was still unsure of why that should cause Alex a problem.

"So?" he asked.

"I couldn't think of anything to say about Alexander."

"There was the time he cut his hair," Walter offered.

"That was experimentation, not naughtiness."

Walter pursed his lips in an unconvinced way.

"I'm talking about really bad behaviour. Alexander has never stepped out of line ... in any way. He does what he's asked, first time. He's always polite. He doesn't break his toys. He's never used a cuss word ... and we know Bobby McCafferty has a mouth like a sewer. He asks permission before he does anything. He's just ... so ... good."

Walter was confused. "And that's a bad thing?"

The look on Alex's face told him that apparently it was.

"Well ... no ... but is it normal? Are we doing something wrong?"

The words, 'More like we're doing something right,' sprang into Walter's mouth, but he never voiced them because something told him this worry went much deeper than Alexander's angelic behaviour.

The image of a shiny new, Quantico high flyer with a cultivated corporate image and a pristine record formed in his mind's eye.

What was Alex like as a kid? he wondered.

"I think we're doing okay by him," he said, "but I'm glad we decided to try for another baby. His whole life is spent in the spotlight of our attention. Maybe we should take the pressure off a little."

The frown line above Alex's nose deepened.

"Okay ... as long as it doesn't make him feel ... I don't know ... less important," he said.

Or completely unimportant? Walter thought.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen," he said.

The teasing words made Alex smile.

Walter smiled in response.

"He's a good kid, Alex. Why don't we just let him get on with it?"

Alex's answer was to lean across to kiss his lover. A kiss the continued and deepened until the oven timer pinged a warning that the chicken was done - and that the kitchen was not the best place to be doing what they were doing.

"Later," Alex promised, stepping away.

"It's a date." Walter beamed at him. He lifted up the lid on a simmering saucepan and asked, "What's for dinner?"

'Be careful what you wish for!'

Alexander - 4 years, 9 months

Hoover Building

Walter Skinner had been conscious of Marie's agitated hovering in his peripheral vision for almost fifteen minutes. So when the committee chairman finally wrapped up the morning session and called a ten minute break, he watched her home in on his position like a heat seeking missile that had locked on target. In her haste she cut straight through a knot of senior senators grumbling about an unexpected hike in the appropriations budget and sent the papers of several five star generals ruffling across the polished conference table.

"What is it, Marie?" he asked.

"A small domestic crisis, sir," she whispered. "Alex wants to talk to you."

She handed over his cell phone.

"He's been waiting on the line."

Walter took it from her with a degree of trepidation and walked towards the large picture windows at the far end of the room.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"At last … I thought that fu - … that windbag was never going to finish."

A strange high-pitched sound came whistling down the line.

For a split second it distracted Walter, then he prompted, "Can we get to the point, Alex?"

The whistling sound came again and its familiar pitch distracted him a second time.

"Sure ... uh ... wait a minute.

A harsh noise sounded in Walter's ear, telling him that Alex had wedged the phone between his shoulder and cheek.

"S'okay, baby ... Daddy's got you ... everything's gonna be okay ..." Alex murmured.

Walter's blood ran cold as he listened to the reassuring words. The whistling sound was repeated, intermingled with a clinical announcement.

"Dr. Ruther ... port to ... CU ... de red."

"Alex!" he called, loud enough to draw the attention.

He glanced over his shoulder at several curious faces.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

"It's okay. He's not sick and he's not hurt. It's a ... foreign body situation ... we need you here."

"Where?"

"St. Catherine's."

"I'm on my way."

It was a quiet afternoon in St. Catherine's Emergency Room and the sound of wheezy whistling became audible to Walter as soon as he left the nurse's station and began searching for cubicle three. Once located, he pulled back the curtain to find Alex and Alexander sitting up on a hospital bed, drawing pictures.

"Look who's here, baby," Alex said.

Alexander looked up at his father and reached out to be picked up.

"Dada," he called, his tear stained face creasing into a frown.

Walter lifted him off the bed and held on tight.

"Home, Dada," the little voice pleaded in between ear piercing screeches.

"Soon, half pint, when we get this fixed."

"No ... home ..."

"Ssshhh ... easy, baby ... " He patted Alexander's back gently and rubbed his cheek against the sweat dampened curls.

"How did this happen?" he asked Alex.

"In some way ... no one at the school is entirely sure how ... the pea in Alexander's drill instructor's whistle," - with a look intended to lay a portion of the blame where it rightly belonged, he took the offending object from his pocket and held it up to dangle on its string - "found its way into his nasal cavity."

Walter frowned sheepishly.

"But however it happened," Alex continued, "it needs to be taken out. We've already tried that and it was not a happy experience, so the d-o-c-t-o-r wants to use a sedative to reduce the anxiety. I wanted you here for that."

Walter nodded his understanding. Since they held joint parental authority, either could authorise such a procedure, but he too would have waited for Alex to arrive had the positions been reversed.

'Doctor,' mouthed Alex, pointing outward.

Walter nodded and Alex silently slipped out of the cubicle.

Walter sat down on the bed and tried to coax Alexander round to sit on his knee. The child only tightened his grip on Walter's neck and began to sob in counterpoint to the sharp, panted whistles.

"S'okay, baby ... you're safe with Dada," Walter murmured as he rocked them both back and forth.

Alex reappeared and indicated that Walter should step outside the cubicle.

"Alexander," Walter said, "go to Daddy for a minute."

Alex stepped up and coaxed the little boy into his arms with quiet words and reassuring strength.

Walter left them and walked over to where a doctor stood waiting to speak to him.

"Mr. Skinner?" the man asked, holding out his hand. "I'm Dr. Myers."

"How does this work?" Walter asked, shaking the man's hand.

"I'll give him the sedative. It will take a few minutes to kick in, then the nurse will hold him while I remove the object."

"Is he at risk, in any way?"

"Only if the anxiety is prolonged, so I suggest we do this ASAP."

"Okay."

The doctor made some notes on a chart, then issued instructions to one of the nurses.

He turned back to Walter, "I'll be in shortly. If you could distract him, it would be a big help."

Walter nodded his agreement and went back to the cubicle. Alex looked at him questioningly.

"In a minute," Walter said quietly as he sat down on the bed, close beside his partner and his son. "How's our big, brave boy?"

"Home, Dada," Alexander demanded in a whiney voice.

"Soon, Alexander," he promised.

Just then, the doctor stepped into the cubicle carrying a small tray. Alexander sensed his presence and began to squirm in Alex's arms.

"Hold him as still as you can," the doctor said. "This will only take a second."

He tugged up the leg of Alexander's shorts and wiped the chubby buttock with an alcohol swab, before quickly injecting the sedative. The sting of it made Alexander roar in protest, and his small fists clenched in frustration.

"It's okay, baby," Alex whispered into his son's ear. "Don't be frightened."

But there was no pacifying him and the roaring continued unabated.

"Call me when he starts to get sleepy," he doctor said and disappeared around the curtain, leaving the two of them to soothe the child as best they could.

Fortunately, it wasn't long before the drug began to take effect and gradually the roars subsided and the tension in the small body relaxed. When the eyelids began to droop, Walter and Alex exchanged confirming glances and Walter went to fetch the doctor.

It was all over in a heartbeat. The nurse took Alexander from Alex and held him firmly in the optimum position. Dr. Myers, armed with a fine tweezer-like instrument, bent over Alexander, blocking him from view. But before either of the two fathers could begin to fret, the pea was removed and the whistling ceased.

"All finished, no damage at all," the doctor assured them. "He'll be out of it for around ten minutes or so, then he'll be back to normal. He won't need any medication."

"Thank you, doctor," Walter said.

He glanced over at his son who was nestling happily on the nurse's ample bosom. The sight made him smile and he looked over to find a mirror image of it on Alex's relieved face.

"I'll take him now," Alex told the nurse.

He reached down and lifted up the little boy confidently in his right arm to cuddle him against his chest.

"How about some coffee?" Walter asked as he watched his lover take the nurse's place in the chair.

"That sounds good."

It was almost bedtime before they finally extracted the full story of the pea's unusual disposition.

"Did someone put the pea in your nose, Alexander?" Walter asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Who?"

"Me," Alexander replied candidly.

"Why did you do that, baby?" Alex asked, bemused.

"'Cos I wanted to."

Hearing the reply, Walter fixed Alex with a 'I hope you're happy now' look.

In response, Alex tried to contain his satisfaction as he put on a stern expression and said, "That was a really dumb and naughty thing to do, Alexander."

Big, brown, serious eyes looked up at him and the curly head nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go get your pj's," Alex instructed, reaching out to take Alexander's hand.

Abandoning his toys on the rug, Alexander happily took hold of his father's hand and followed him from the room; the whole pea episode already a fading memory. Walter listened to the giggles and squeals that resounded through the house as Grisha, the big Russian bear, chased the little boy upstairs.

Getting up to tidy away the toys, he contemplated the light touch Alex that had used in dealing with Alexander's naughtiness. It confirmed what he had always suspected, that he would be the one who ended up playing the role of 'bad cop' in their parental double act. Not this time though, he reasoned. The scary visit to the hospital had been punishment enough for the little mite. Alex had dealt with it appropriately.

Reluctantly, he fetched his briefcase from the hall closet and took out a paper copy of the briefing he'd missed during the afternoon session of the conference. He had reviewed more than half of it when a whirlwind dressed in Spiderman pyjamas landed in his lap.

"Ooooff!"

"'Night, 'night, Dada," Alexander said before planting a toothpaste scented kiss on Walter's nose.

"'Night, half pint," Walter replied, copying the gesture.

"Nothing strange up there, I hope," he continued, tapping softly on the upturned, prototype Skinner nose.

"Uh-uh," Alexander reassured him, tilting his head back so his Dad could get a good view inside.

"Mmmm," Walter mused, taking his handkerchief from his pants pocket and positioning it carefully.

"Blow," he instructed.

Alexander obliged with gusto.

"That's better," Walter said. "All present and correct, soldier."

"Story time's awastin'!" Alex called from the upstairs landing.

"Better get goin', half pint," Walter said, helping the little boy off his knee. "Sweet dreams."

The whirlwind departed as it had arrived, and with a sigh Walter returned to the briefing paper. He was pencilling in a few final remarks half hour later when Alex returned to the family room.

"Went out like a light," he reported, continuing on into the kitchen. "Want a beer?"

"Oh, yeah," Walter said, closing the briefcase with a grateful snap. He set it aside and took off his glasses.

Alex handed him a frosty bottle and collapsed onto the couch.

"Interesting day, huh?" he observed.

"You could say that," Walter agreed.

They both took a deep swallow of the cold brew and relaxed into the comfort of the couch. Walter laid his hand on Alex's thigh and moved closer. Responding to the unspoken invitation, Alex set his beer down on the end table and turned towards Walter. Slowly he ran his hand up the strong chest and began unbuttoning the crumpled dress shirt.

"It's about to get more interesting," he promised in a low-down, sexy tone.

Their mouths met in a hungry kiss that sent Walter's libido into overdrive. Using his heavier mass, he fell backwards onto the empty half of the couch, pulling Alex with him to lie on top. As he leaned down into the kiss, Alex fumbled the bottle out of Walter's hand and reached out with it blindly until it clunked down on the coffee table.

"Uuuunngh," he murmured in satisfaction when Walter finally managed to undo the button and zip on his jeans. He relished the feel of his lover's rough hands as they began to slide beneath the denim and down over his ass cheeks to tease and -

A long, slow whistle sounded.

Walter's hands froze in position.

The long, slow whistle sounded a second time.

Alex pulled back from the kiss and stared down at his lover's frantic expression.

A longer, slower whistle sounded.

"Fuck," Walter murmured.

"It's okay," Alex said quickly. "The doctor put the pea back in the whistle after you left for the Hoover."

"Okay, but ... why is it whistling?" Walter asked.

As if in answer, the whistle sounded again.

"Fuck," Alex said, as he scrambled to his feet.

Having taken the stairs two at a time, they jogged across the landing and into Alexander's room.

A very long, very slow note quavered from the whistle - held loosely between a pair of cherub lips. The two men looked at each other and breathed a synchronised sigh of relief.

"He must have taken it from my jacket pocket," Alex whispered.

"Let's get it off him," Walter whispered back.

Together they manoeuvred the string from round his neck and took the whistle out of his mouth. When they were sure he was sleeping soundly, they snuck out and crossed the landing to their bedroom.

Immediately, Alex opened the gun safe and locked the whistle securely away.

"So where were we?" Walter asked, closing the door firmly behind him and following his lover down onto the bed.

"My tongue was in your mouth and your hands were doing interesting things to my ass."

"Oh, yeah, that sounds abou -"

It isn't easy to complete a sentence with a predatory tongue in your mouth.

So Walter Skinner didn't even try.

finis - for now ...

Many thanks to Bertina for her generous beta-ing and extensive knowledge of all things 'peanut buttery' :)