Title: A Wedding Story
Author:  Skinner'sVieja 
 
ooc: Oops, I forgot to put in a little disclaimer. No, no, not that crap about the characters being someone elses, yada, yada, yada. I mean the one about the fact that this is not exactly following the accepted official story line. Some people in this story who are dead on the show are very much alive here. Some of the events that happen will kind of stretch your ability to accept what we as X-Philes hold as gospel. But then, that's the beauty of the X-Files world. Nothing stays the same from one story to the next, everything is fluid and can easily been bent to shape. 
If you don't like this story, well, that's your choice. You're probably more discerning than some, and more power to you. And if you DO like this, well, I suggest you read something more worthwhile. Hemingway, Bronte, Alcott, hell, even JK Rowlings is better than this. 

Welcome to MY X-Files world. 
********************************************************** 

Walter S. Skinner, an assistant director of the Federal Bureau of Investigations sat in his faux-leather-bound chair behind his looks-almost-like-real mahogany desk with his elbow propped up on the arm of said chair, his fingers kneading his forehead. It had been a hell of a week, and now with the weekend almost here he should be looking forward to some down time. Time that he could use to recharge the old physical as well as mental batteries. 

Instead he was sitting behind his desk, dreading Saturday, wishing he had never agreed to participate in what was turning out to be a painful, painful decision on his part. He could have said no, all he had to do was say ‘no’, simple as that. Mulder could have found someone else to take his place. But he had been caught unawares by the question, and the look of happiness on Mulder’s face had made him agree before he’d actually thought it through. 

Mulder had come into his office on Monday morning, just barged in as Skinner was putting down his briefcase and taking off his overcoat. 

“Morning, Mulder,” he said. “What brings you to my office so early on this fine fall day? And in such a good mood. What has managed to put that rather annoying grin on your face? Poltergeists? Witch burnings? Someone find a sea monster in the Washington monument reflecting pool?” 

Mulder’s grin had widened as he sat down in one of the two chairs facing Skinner’s desk. “It is a fine autumn morning, isn’t it, Walter?” 

Skinner had looked up with a jerk; Mulder seldom called him by his first name. He raised one eyebrow at the former agent as Mulder settled comfortably into the chair. But Mulder’s good mood was undaunted by Skinner’s stern look. 

“I, um, I just wanted to share some good news with you. You’re not going to believe this. Hell,” Mulder said as he abruptly stood again, “I can’t even believe it.” 

“Mulder, why don’t you just spit it out instead of acting like some kind of jack-in-the-box who needs Ritalin.” Skinner sat down and opened a folder Arlene had placed on his desk. 

“Scully and I are getting married.” 

Skinner’s jaw dropped as he looked up quickly at Mulder who was now standing beside his desk, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Wha-what do you mean, married?” stammered Skinner as he slowly rose to his feet. 

“You know, ‘Do you, Dana, take me Mulder,’ et cetera, et cetera. Unbelievable, isn’t it?” Mulder raked his hand through his hair, “Un-freaking-believable.” 

“Wh-when did all this take place?” asked Skinner slowly as he tried to make sense of what Mulder was saying. Even though he was speaking English, it was as if Skinner was hearing another language. 

“Yesterday,” Mulder’s eyes filled with tears as he spoke. “We were visiting my mother’s grave and we got to talking about how our lives have changed over the years. We’ve worked together for over nine years, and so much has happened to us in that time. So much good and so” he shook his head slightly, “so much bad. We’ve lost family members, people we were close to. We’ve lost…we lost William,” 

He stopped speaking for a moment and looked down at his hands as he tried to compose his voice before he continued. 

Mulder took a deep breath, “We realized that the one thing that had sustained us through all the illnesses, and attacks, and…and loss was our love for each other. We’ve always been there for each other, so we decided it was time to make a real commitment to take of one another for the rest of our lives.” 
 
“That…that’s wonderful, Mulder,” said Skinner as he realized the other man was waiting for some kind of response. “Congratulations. I’m…I’m very happy for you both.” He held out his hand for Mulder to shake and was surprised when instead he suddenly found himself being hugged. He raised one hand and slowly patted Mulder’s back. “Congratulations,” he said again. 
“Thanks. But none of this would be happening if it wasn’t for you.” Mulder released the older man and stood back, smiling once more. 

“Me?” asked Skinner in surprise. He was getting thoroughly sick of Mulder’s happy face. 

“Yeah, you, ya old b*stard. You’re the one that helped clear my name of those trumped up charges.” 

“Mulder, I’m not sure I had anything to do with that. I suspect the powers that be decided to let you go in order to save their own skins.” 

“I know, I’m aware of that. And I know they’re watching me like a bug under a microscope, but at least I’m able to move around with some degree of freedom. AND you got me connected with the Osterwald think tank which allows me to continue my investigations into the paranormal.” 

Yes, I am just the best, thought Skinner morosely. I’m also an idiot. 

“But you’re still considered a danger by the people who are working for the other side. Aren’t you afraid for Scully’s safety? I mean, now as your wife, she’ll be in even more danger. They can always try to get to you through her.” 

“Walter,” said Mulder with a shrug, “she’s always been in danger. And as we grew closer, the danger increased. At least if we’re married, she’ll fall under the same protective umbrella that the Osterwald group gives me. Because I’m working with a foundation who is well-known for its interest in the supernatural, and because they are wealthy and powerful, it’s less likely that anyone is going to try and harm either one of us.” 

“I hope you’re right, Mulder. I’d hate for anything to happen to either of you.” 

“Thanks, Walter, I…we appreciate that. You’ve always watched out for us, and well, we…I thought it was only appropriate that I ask you to be my best man,” said Mulder with a rush of words. He watched Skinner closely for his response. 

“M-me?” squeaked Skinner. “Why me? I would have thought you would want one of the Lone Gunmen to stand with you.” 

“No, not one of them. As much as I love those guys I couldn’t see any of them doing it. I mean, Langly probably doesn't own a suit, and Frohike would look like the ring-bearer. And Byers? Well, he does own a suit, and he is tall enough, but….” Mulder exhaled loudly. “Look, you’ve been the closest I’ve ever had to a best friend. Sometimes you even seem like an older brother. I have no family now, just Scully, and I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather have there with me, supporting me. Someone who has only wanted the best for both of us. So…? Yes or no? Or am I going to have to ask Scully’s brother? And I wouldn’t ask him because I’d be afraid he’d try and poison me or something.” Mulder laughed and Skinner joined in feebly. 

What makes you think I won’t? thought Skinner. He cleared his throat, “I’d be honored to stand with you, Mulder. Just tell me where and when.” 

“Saturday afternoon, Scully’s mom’s backyard. It’s going to be very small. Her mom and her brother Bill and his family. The Gunmen, Doggett, Reyes, and…and I guess that’s it,” he chuckled. “Oh, and the priest, of course.” 

“This…THIS Saturday? Why the rush?” Skinner couldn’t believe they were going to make it so soon. He was hoping that there would be some time for him to…. To what? To do nothing as usual? A horrible thought crossed his mind. “She’s…she’s not pregnant again, is she?” 
“No,” laughed Mulder. “No shotguns at this wedding. We just decided we had wasted enough time, so the sooner, the better.” 

“Yeah, yeah I can see your point. No sense in delay any longer.” Skinner tried not to flinch as Mulder put his arm around his shoulder. “Just…just tell me the time and I’ll be there.” 

“I’ll have Scully call you with all the particulars. She’s with her mom right now, making all kinds of arrangements. I…I can’t believe it, Walter. I keep pinching myself to make sure it’s not a dream.” 

I’ll punch you if you want me to, he thought. In fact, I’d love to punch you as hard as I could. 

Aloud he said, “Well, congratulations again, Mulder. I’m…I’m really happy for you.” He walked with Mulder to his office door and opened it. “Give Scully my best wishes.” 

“You can do that when she calls you. I’ve got to go now and buy a wedding ring. A wedding ring. Man, I still can’t believe it.” As Mulder started out the door he turned back and said, “Oh, bring a date if you want. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of whatever Scully and her mom are planning on serving.” With a wave of his hand, Mulder departed, leaving a dumbstruck Skinner still standing at his door. 

A date? How could he bring a date when the only woman he would possibly want to take was going to be there? And as the main attraction. 

That night Skinner had gone home in a daze. The day must have been fairly productive, he had attended numerous meetings, signed reams of paper. Or least his body had. His mind was occupied elsewhere. He had found the day interminable and had left the last meeting before it had been officially closed. He didn’t care, though. He just wanted to get home. 

And once he had gotten there, he sat for a long time in the growing darkness, thinking over Mulder’s little surprise announcement. When twilight had faded into total darkness, he got up and went to his bedroom. He took off his suit and put on a pair of old jeans. He sat down at his computer desk and logged on. After checking his e-mail and responding to a message from his brother, he logged off and sat staring at the monitor. 

He got up and went into his closet. He moved aside a chest of drawers to reveal a barely discernable panel in the wall. Touching one corner, the panel sprang open. The previous owner of the apartment to hide his wife’s jewels had built a small safe into the wall. When Skinner bought the apartment he had at first thought it an affectation of some nouveau riche lobbyist. But as the years passed, he decided that it was the perfect place to conceal certain items that might be embarrassing if they ever came to light. 

Skinner took out a small file box containing discs. He opened the box and flipped through the contents looking for a specific one. Each disc was labeled in his own handwriting with nothing more than a year. 1992, 1993, 1994, all the way to the present year. He had started keeping an electronic journal of any and all activities associated with the X-Files since Mulder’s assignment. Because he had been on the front lines of most of Mulder’s investigations, Skinner felt he needed to make sure there was some kind of documentation of all that had happened. That way, if something happened to either him or Mulder, there would be proof of what had transpired over the years. In his will he had left instructions on the location of the safe and what to do with its contents. Originally he had wanted them given to the Department of Justice to be used to build a case against the people who were trying to destroy humanity. Now though, he felt they should be handed over to Deputy Director Alvin Kersh. He had come to trust the man and knew he would be the one person who would continue to help Mulder and Scully in their search for the truth.


However, the disc he was searching for contained different files. He pulled the disc marked ‘3-7-92-A’ and after stowing the box back inside the safe, went to his computer and sat down. He inserted it into his disc drive, then sat back while it loaded. He rocked gently back and forth in the upholstered chair, his arms crossed, his face reflecting the sadness he felt. 
The computer blooped, informing him that it was ready for him put in his password. The files were all encrypted and password protected. He had taken every precaution to make sure no one could accidentally open any of the files. It would take an extremely persistent hacker to break through the barriers he’d set up. Maybe, MAYBE someone like Langly could figure out how to bypass everything, but Skinner felt sure that no one would find the disc, or it’s companion. He had also left instructions that this disc and the one labeled ‘3-7-92-B’ were to be destroyed immediately after his death. He had made his brother executor of his will, and he trusted him enough to know that he would do exactly as Skinner had requested. 

Skinner typed in all of the three passwords that allowed him access, then stared at the numerous folders, trying to decide which one to open. He knew the contents of each one by heart, even though he seldom opened some of the older files. Occasionally, though, on a night like this night, he felt the need to look back and remember when she had first come into his life. 

Because the disc was a chronicle of Dana Scully and her career with the FBI. Or at least it had started out that way. At first he had only cut and pasted excerpts from her reports, but that had changed, as she became more and more important in his life. Eventually he had started jotting down his thoughts and concerns about her. He had used the journal as a place to rage when she’d been sick or hurt or when Mulder had done something stupid and put her in danger. He had also penned heartfelt prayers for her when she had lost first Emily, the daughter she found too late, and William, the son she gave up to save. 

Skinner knew how damning the journal could be if anyone found it. To anyone who didn’t know him, it would seem to be evidence of an obsessed mind. And his obsession appeared to be of Dana Scully. But nothing could be further from the truth. He wasn’t some psychotic who focussed in on one person until the eventual destruction of both people. He loved this woman and had for years. An unhinged mind would have acted on his obsession by now. 

But he hadn’t; he had been content to watch her and love her without acting on it. There had been several opportunities for him to declare himself, but because he’d always known of her feelings for Mulder, he’d not taken the steps necessary to let her know how he felt. Now, of course, it was too late. She was marrying him, marrying the man who had been the cause of so much pain and heartache in her life. And he, Walter Sergei Skinner, assistant director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, was going to have to sit back and let it happen. 

The shrill ring of his bedside phone startled him from his reverie. He stretched out his arm and snagged the receiver. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, it’s me, Scully,” came the voice that always made his heart race. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I know it’s kind of late, but…” 

“No, no, it’s fine. I was just, um, working at my computer.” He moved the computer mouse to slide the cursor to the first file and double-clicked it open. 

“Oh, then, you’re alone?” Her voice almost seemed relieved. 

What did she expect, he thought. For some reason over the years she’d gotten the idea that he brought home a different woman every night. He suspected Mulder was the source of that fantasy. 

 “Yes, I’m very much alone,” he said, not realizing his voice held a lonely tone that touched her. “What can I do for you, Agent Scully? Oh, wait,” he said hurriedly, “I should be congratulating you, shouldn’t I. Mulder told me this morning. I’m…I’m very happy for you both, Dana.” 
“Thank you, sir,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “I…I can hardly believe it’s happening.” 

“I wish you both the best, you know that. And Dana, maybe it’d be better if you called me Walter. I mean, it seems kind of silly to have the blushing bride call the best man ‘sir’.” 

“Okay, um, Walter,” she said softly. 

He gripped the receiver so tight his knuckles turned white. All these years he’d wanted her to say his name, and the pleasure of hearing her was overshadowed by the fact that she was marrying someone else in less than five days. 

“Are you still there, suh…Walter?” Her voice broke through his momentary lapse. 

“Uh, yes, yes, of course, Dana. Um, have you, uh, have you all decided on the time and, uh, everything?” 

“Oh my, yes,” she laughed. “Last minute weddings are almost more work than full-blown ones, I’ve decided. It’s going to be at my mother’s at 4:00 in her backyard. She has some lovely old trees back there, and the leaves are just starting to turn colors. We thought 4:00 was a good time, because the light is so soft and golden then. It’s going to be a very small wedding, but I’m hoping to only go through this once, so I want it to be as perfect as possible."” 

“I’m sure it will be, Dana. And don’t worry about having to repeat the process. You and Mulder will live out the rest of your lives in wedded bliss.” He chuckled but stopped when he heard her gasp. 

“Oh, sir, I’m…I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t mean…I forgot that you were…I’m…I’m sorry,” she stammered. 

“Forgot what?” he asked in confusion. 

“That…that you were divorced. I didn’t mean to imply….or rather, I didn’t mean…” she stumbled to an embarrassed closed. 

“Dee…? Oh, yeah, uh, right. Don’t worry about it, Dana. If you’re going to go around apologizing to divorced people for being happy, you’ll be extremely busy. Remember, half the population of US has been divorced at least once. I’m sure that will never happen to the two of you.” Truth be told, he too had forgotten about his marriage to Sharon. He hadn’t thought of her or their life together in years. 

“Now,” he said with false heartiness, “what do I need to wear to this soiree? Tux? Suit? Clothes to rake leaves in?” He succeeded in making her laugh. 

“No, no yard work this time. A suit will be just fine. If I remember correctly, I’ve seen you wear a very nice charcoal one. You looked extremely handsome in that one, so if you wouldn’t mind accommodating the bride, I’d like for you to wear that.” 

“Of course, for you, anything.” He was touched that she should remember something that he’d worn. “Any particular shirt or tie?” 

“White shirt,” she said immediately. “Those always look good on you. And a tie that’s not too depressing. Something a little festive.” 

“How about I buy a new one, just for the wedding? Would that be okay? I’ll get several and you can veto the ones you don’t like.

“No, that’s okay,” she chuckled. “I trust you. You always seem so well put-together that I’m pretty sure you’ll know what’s good and what’s not.” 
“I’m surprised you notice,” he teased. “I thought one suit of men’s clothes pretty much looked like another.” 

“Walter, I’ve had to stare at the front of your shirt as you’ve reprimanded me and Mulder for more years than I care to think about. I’ve gotten pretty familiar with your taste in clothes.” 

“I haven’t reprimanded you that many times, have I?” 

“Probably not nearly as many times as you should have,” she admitted. “And those times that you did, you were pretty lenient. All in all, you’ve been a wonderful boss, very forgiving. I guess I miss that more than I thought I would, now that I’m at Quantico full time.” 

“Your boss at Quantico is difficult to work with?” 

“No, she’s really very nice. She’s…she’s just not you.” 

“Ah.” He could think of nothing else to say. His stomach turned over with pleasure at the thought that she missed him. He closed his eyes as the image of her putting her arms around his neck flashed through his mind. Compose yourself, Walter, he thought. 

“Um, so, uh, who is, uh, who is going to be your lady in waiting?” He grasped at the first thing he could think to say. 

“Lady-in-? Oh, you mean maid of honor.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“Monica Reyes. I had briefly thought about my sister-in-law, but she’s pregnant with her third baby, and she is as big as a house. Besides, Monica and I have shared a lot over the last couple of years, and I really want her there with me.” 

“Good choice,” he agreed. “Have you given her the same detailed instructions on what to wear?” he teased. 

“Not really. I told her to wear something nice. I’m hoping she’ll go out and buy something that’ll strike a fire under John. Those two need to be together, but he appears to be taking his own sweet time.” 

“So, they’re not…” Skinner didn’t usually indulge in gossip about his agents, but he wanted to keep Scully on the phone as long as possible. 

She hesitated a moment before answering, unsure if she should be telling her friend’s boss about her private life. “Not from what she’s told me. They go out to dinner outside of work, and they spend a lot of time together between cases, but nothing….um, well, you know, it still seems to be just a friend-thing with him. They’ve grown very close, but for some reason he’s not ready to take it any further.” 

“Maybe she should consider making the first move.” 

“I’m surprised she hasn’t”, admitted Scully. “She’s not shy about going after what she wants. But I think she’s unsure of the signals she’s getting from John. Sometimes she thinks he’s ready, then he’ll suddenly back off. You men,” she sighed, “you never seem to know when to take the bull by the horns. You know what you want, but you just let it ride until you have no option but to act.” 

He laughed and shook his head. How right she was. 

“Blame it on the ‘Y’ chromosome,” he said. 
“What an excuse!”, she exclaimed. “Like blaming all a woman’s bad moods on PMS. Sorry, fella, but I think someone needs to take some responsibility and just admit he doesn’t know what to do. That would make it easier women. Then we could step in and take over without feeling like we’re intruding on time-honored rituals. AND without being called overly aggressive.” 

“Okay, okay, I surrender,” he laughed. “I’ll be the first to enlist in the fight for men’s submission to women’s superiority in dealing with relationships. I’ll proselytize and do the best I can to convert the rest of men-dom. Will that make you happy?” I’ll do anything to make you happy, he thought. 

“Start with John, that’ll make Monica happy,” she said. “Hang on a second.” 

He could hear someone knocking at her door. She must have looked through the peephole in the door, because he heard the rattle of a chain as she unlocked the door. 

“Hi,” she said as she greeted her visitor. “It’s Skinner.” 

Skinner could hear the unmistakable soft sound of a kiss, and then Mulder’s voice filled the receiver. Skinner closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. 

“Hey, Walter.” 

“Hi, Mulder,” he said with his jaw clenched tight. 

“No, it’s still me,” said Scully. “Mulder was just, um, saying hello.” 

“Oh.” 

“I…I guess I’ll let you go. I’m…I’m glad you accepted Mulder’s request to be his best man. I don’t think I’d want anyone else to do it.” 

“Yeah, well,” he cleared his throat, “I, uh, I guess I’ll see you Saturday. Let me know if you need me for anything. I’m pretty good at running errands.” 

“That’s okay,” she said, “I’ve got Mulder available for that. I wouldn’t want to take you away from your busy schedule. Wait a second.” She covered the mouthpiece of her phone and he could hear mumbled conversation. “Mulder says to remind you that you can bring someone, if you want. As..as a date. Um, are you?” 

“Probably not,” he admitted. “It’s going to be such an intimate ceremony that I’d feel awkward bringing some outsider. So, it’ll just be me.” Besides, he didn’t want to have to put on a happy face for someone when he knew how miserable he was going to be. 

“Are…are you sure? I mean, we don’t mind if you want to bring one, um, of your lady friends.” 

Did he detect the slightest bit of relief in her voice? Probably. With a wedding this small, each additional person would put a strain on their limited resources. 

“I’m sure, Dana. Don’t worry about me.” Liar, he thought. 

“Well, all right, if you’re sure. I’ll…I’ll talk to you later. Good night.” She hung up before he could respond. 

“Good night, my love,” he whispered as he sat with the receiver still pressed to his ear. 

March 7, 1992, the date of Scully’s first case with Mulder. They had ended up in Oregon and she had had her first experience with Mulder’s obsession with UFO’s. She had dutifully written her report and turned it in to him several days after the event. It was his first meeting with her. She had been assigned by Section Chief Scott Blevins and had immediately left with Mulder for Bellefleur. She’d never met the man who would end up being her boss for the next nine years, but he was already familiar with her. He had been ordered by one CGB Spender to keep an eye on her and make sure she and Mulder didn’t get too close to the truth they were seeking. 
Her intelligence and her quick wit had surprised Skinner. Spender had led him to believe that she was just some little airhead agent who was supposed to follow Mulder around and report everything he did. After she had left his office, Skinner sat motionless as Spender came in through the hall entrance and sat down. Skinner could actually smell him before he sat down. He reeked of the cigarettes he seemed to need to have constantly in his hands. His fingers were yellow from the nicotine that stained them. He proceeded to light one cigarette off the burning end of another. 

“Well, what do you think?”, he asked through a haze of smoke. 

“I think you are misjudging her,” Skinner had said bluntly. “She’s a lot smarter than you think.” 

“She’s not all that smart. She’s a beautiful woman who knows how to APPEAR smart. I’ve seen hundreds of them. They play up their looks to hide the vacuity of their brains. Don’t let those vibrant blue eyes fool you, Skinner. Eventually, she’ll show exactly how limited her IQ is, then you’ll see I’m right. She’s perfect for this job, however, because she doesn’t have enough brainpower to question what she sees. She’ll be easily swayed to see things as we want her to see them. I don’t think it will be long before we can shut down the X-Files and she can go out and start having babies and making some poor fool deliriously happy.” 

“I still think you’re underestimating her. She’s not going to fit your 1950’s stereotype of the woman who is working only as long as it takes to catch a husband. You need to come into the 1990’s and realize that women are more than just wives and baby factories.” 

“Smitten with her all ready?” Spender had asked with a smirk. 

“No, are you?” retorted Skinner. 

He disliked this man who seemed to have unlimited power and control. He was working for him only because he had been ordered. It had been intimated that his whole career with the Bureau depended on this evil looking bast*rd sitting in front of him. How much of that was true, Skinner didn’t know, but he hesitated to do anything that might risk his future. He had decided to watch and wait for any sign of weakness in Spender. He wondered if maybe the young woman who had just left might be his first sign. 

Skinner had gone home that night and for the first time in a long time had talked to Sharon about his day. He had skimmed over his meeting with Agent Scully. 

“She looked like she was about sixteen years old and should be planning what to wear to her sophomore prom,” he said as he sat on their sofa and kicked off his shoes. 

Sharon came and sat down beside him. She ran her hand over his smooth scalp. 

“She must have made an impression,” she said. “You haven’t talked about any of your agents in a long time. Well, other than that strange guy whose office is in the basement. What’s his name? Murphy?” 

“Mulder,” he sighed. “Fox Mulder. Of all things she’s been assigned to work with him. What a waste of her talents. She’s a medical doctor and they’ve got her working with a kook.” He leaned back against the pillows of the sofa and closed his eyes with a sigh. It had been a long day. 
He had started when he suddenly felt Sharon’s lips on his. He opened his eyes as she straddled his lap and began to grind against him. 

“It’s been so long, Walter,” she whispered as her lips brushed his. Her eyes were half-closed with desire, but he could see something in them that puzzled him. There were the beginnings of passion, yes, but there was something else; fear, anger, and a challenge. A challenge that he knew he was about to fail. 

He put his hands on her hips and lifted her slightly to break the contact between them. 

“Sharon, honey, I’m sorry, but it’s been a bad day and I’m really tired. Let me rest a while and I promise….” He stopped as he saw the anger build in her eyes. 

She rolled off him and stood up, her feet planted slightly apart. She stared at him for a long moment before moving towards the front door. He heard her take her coat from the entrance closet, grab her bag and leave, slamming the front door behind her. 

The Skinner marriage had lasted in name only for another four years. He had actually been surprised she had stayed around for that long. He had always been distant with her, but as he had been drawn deeper and deeper into the X-Files conspiracy, he became almost a stranger to her. As much as he hated to admit that he’d failed at anything, the divorce, when he had finally signed the papers, had been a relief. He could now concentrate more fully on trying to keep Mulder and Scully safe from the diabolical grip of CGB Spender. 

And, if the truth were known, he felt less guilty about his growing attraction to the fiery redhead 

He went back to looking at the files that contained her early reports. That first year Skinner had read them with little interest. For a while he’d been expecting hatchet reports on Mulder’s findings. But he soon realized that while she may have been assigned to debunk Mulder’s work, she was enough of a scientist to know and see that there might be more than one explanation to some of their cases. 

The bland language of her reports downplayed some of the trials she’d faced. He read the report of he encounter with Luther Lee Boggs. Nothing in the description of what happened to her and Mulder revealed the pain she’d suffered with the death of her father. Nor the anger she’d felt when faced with the possibility of losing her partner. It wasn’t until she was in his office to answer questions about her report that he saw the full impact on her. 

“Agent Scully,” he said, “first I want to extend my condolences to you and your family. I was saddened to hear about the death of your father.” 

She hadn’t answered at first. She’d just sat there with her fingertips pressing against her lips, her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, sir,” she finally managed to say. 

“How…how is your mother doing? How are YOU doing?” 

“She’s…she’s holding up very well. I’m a little surprised, I guess. I was expecting….” She shook her head. 

“You were expecting to fall to pieces?” He shrugged, “She may be trying to be strong for you and your brothers and sister. Or she may grieve when you’re not around. Let her handle this in her own way. She let you know when she needs you.” 

“I suppose,” she agreed reluctantly 

“And you, Agent Scully? You haven’t answered my question. How are you doing?” 
She closed her eyes and tears slipped down her cheeks. “I miss him,” she whispered. A sob took her breath and she couldn’t speak. 

He let her cry for a moment, then opened a drawer and took out a box of tissues. He stood and went around his desk to hand them to her. He perched on the edge while she dried her eyes. 

“I am sorry for your loss,” he repeated. “If you need to take some time off, I can arrange it.” 

“That’s kind of you, sir, but I’d rather keep working. Besides, Mulder’s going to be needing me even more while he recuperates.” 

“How is Agent Mulder?” Skinner went to sit behind his desk again. 

“He was told by his doctor that he could return to work next week. But, of course he’s anxious to get back. I’ve made him promise to wait at least a couple more days. It was… it was a very close thing, sir.” 

“I understand you threatened Luther Boggs after Mulder was shot. That might not have been the wisest thing to do, Agent Scully. Especially with a guard nearby.” 

“Sir, Mulder almost died!” she said angrily. “What was I supposed to say to the man?” 

“He ended up helping you solve the case.” 

“I know,” she admitted with a sigh. “But, sir, at the time I thought Boggs had set us up to get Mulder killed. I guess maybe I was feeling guilty that I had been the one who convinced Mulder to listen to Boggs. I…I felt like I had been the one to put Mulder in danger. He’s my partner, sir, and I’m supposed to watch out for him.” 

It was a few weeks later that Skinner was saying those same words to Mulder. Her former partner, who inexplicably took on the persona of a man he’d been trying to tag for armed robbery and murder, had kidnapped Scully. After she had been found safe, Skinner had called Mulder in to his office. 

“Agent Mulder, I think you need to realize how important it is for you to try and make sure nothing happens to your partner.” 

“Sir, we had no way of knowing that Agent Willis was going to be a danger to her. She herself felt that she was safe with him. I would have not let her gone with him if I thought he posed a threat. Besides,” he said in exasperation, “she can be very stubborn, especially if she thinks I’m being over-protective.” 

“I don’t care how upset she gets, just make sure she’s safe.” 

As Skinner continued to stare at his computer monitor, he shook his head. He should have realized then that he was going to have his hands full with those two. They both seemed to be in and out of the hospital on an almost regular basis. He would invariably find himself standing outside some hospital room talking to various doctors concerning the well being of one or the other. He came to understand that by the very nature of their investigations they were more likely to be injured. As time passed they all three realized that they were being drawn deeper and deeper into a world-wide conspiracy of silence and that the conspirators would do everything in their power to keep them from discovering the truth they were working so hard to conceal. 

Skinner clicked open file after file. So much pain, so many deaths were associated with those two. Mulder’s father, Scully’s sister; one an innocent victim of mistaken identity, the other a man whose initial involvement with the conspiracy brought about his death. Skinner covered his eyes with one hand as he remembered the aura of sadness that enveloped her after her sister’s murder. It was probably the first time he’d been aware of how his feelings for her were changing. She had come to office a couple of weeks after her sister’s funeral, and he had offered his condolences. He had taken her hand in both of his and for a moment she had clung to them. He had been startled by the feelings her touch had awakened, and he had held her small hand in his for longer than necessary. He had not wanted to let go for he had realized how young and vulnerable she was, in spite of the tough exterior she presented to the world. He had wanted to take her in his arms and keep away the evil that seemed to be circling closer and closer. 

And of course, he hadn’t. He was still married, even though the marriage itself was only a shell. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t do anything that would hurt Sharon. And when Sharon had finally won her divorce, he realized that it was too late for him to declare to Scully his feelings for her. By that time she and Mulder had grown close and she might not have appreciated her boss’s attentions.

So, he contented himself to watch from the sidelines, trying to protect her as best he could without her knowing it. But there were times when it seemed to be a task almost too daunting. When she was diagnosed with cancer, he had felt as if he had been punched in the chest. He found out all that was known about her cancer in order to make sure she was receiving the best treatment. As she grew more ill, he quietly arranged for her to receive some of his sick leave so that she would not suffer financially. His reward for that kindness? She suspected him of being in league with the conspirators who were trying to kill her. Little did she know that he would have gladly killed every one of the bast*rds with his bare hands. 
Skinner closed the files and removed the disc from his computer. He stared at it a moment, debating whether or not to destroy it. What good was it going to do him to keep painful memories of her around? She was marrying Mulder and she would be starting a new life that had nothing to do with him. Get a clue, Walter; you never had a chance with her. What made you think you ever did? Besides, maybe keeping all this stuff was the sign of a sick mind. Best to get rid of it, lay all those dreams to rest, start a new life. 

He stood up and went into his closet. Opening the safe, he put the disc back into the box with the others. Yeah, he’d get rid of it, but not tonight. 

Several hours later he woke up calling her name. It took him a moment to realize that he was alone and that she wasn’t there with him. He lay on his stomach, panting, his heart racing as his body reacted to the arousal the dream had initiated. It had been so vivid, he could still feel her touch, taste her mouth. It had been a long time since he’d dreamed of her. Rarely had he dreamed of making love to her; usually the dreams were of work or something just as mundane. 

But this dream, this one had all the erotic elements of a teen-aged boy’s wet dream. He and Scully had been walking through the woods near a lake. The wind had been blowing through the pine trees and they had looked up to see clouds scudding across the sky. At that moment, rain began to pelt them and they started to run towards a log cabin. They had reached the porch just as lightning flashed and thunder rolled around them. They stood on the porch looking out at the rain, breathing heavily from the run. He looked down at her. Her hair was plastered to her head and she was soaking wet. Her white tee shirt clung to her breasts and he could see that she wore no bra. 

“Let’s get inside,” he said as she shivered with cold. “Go change and I’ll get a fire started.” 

He had gone to the big stone fireplace and kneeled down to light the paper and kindling that were already laid out. He was cold also, but he could wait until the fire was roaring before he went to change. He stood up and turned and saw her standing behind him. She was wrapped in a big woolen blanket that puddled around her feet. 

“You’re shivering,” she said softly. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.” 

“I…I was just going to….” 

“No, do it here. In front of the fire where you’ll be warm. Go ahead, take off your shirt.” 

“I…I need a towel to dry…” 

“I’ll dry you,” she said. “Take off your shirt.” 

Her eyes held his as she softly repeated, “Take off your shirt.” 

He slowly pulled his shirttail from his wet jeans and unbuttoned it. He felt no embarrassment at letting her watch him disrobe. He tossed the shirt aside and started to unbutton his jeans. She licked her lips as she watched, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breathing. 

This being a dream, he didn’t have to struggle to remove the heavy wet denim material. They seemed to magically disappear and he was standing naked in front of her. She dropped the blanket and he could finally see her body. She walked slowly towards him, put one hand behind his head to draw him down for a kiss. The other hand she ran down his abdomen to the dark patch of hair below. She began to fondle him slowly, squeezing gently, stroking him until he was fully aroused. Her assault on his mouth was anything but gentle. She probed with her tongue, demanding a response. And he responded in kind. He could barely think as she kissed and bit his lips, his jaw, his neck. His hands roamed her body, squeezing her buttocks, cupping her breasts. He rubbed the back of his hands across her nipples before taking them between his finger and thumb and squeezed gently. 

Slowly, they lowered their bodies until they lay on the blanket. She spread her legs and he kneeled between them. He watched as she ran her hands over her breasts and down her body. He leaned forward to take one breast into his mouth as she guided his erection into her. She gasped as he started to thrust against her, but she soon caught his rhythm. Faster and faster they moved together until…. 

That’s when he had awakened. At first he was afraid to move, afraid that the friction on his body on the sheets would cause him to ejaculate. But as awareness grew that it was indeed only a dream, and a cruel one at that, he felt his response lessen until he lay exhausted and frustrated on the bed. When he at last felt that he could move, he sat up and punched his pillow. 

How cruel life was when your own body turned against you. Rationally he knew that she was lost to him forever, but his body continued to want her, need her, love her. 

God, he wanted this week to be over. 

Skinner was late getting to work on Tuesday. Once he reached the office his morning was spent taking care of countless small projects without which the Bureau would come to a screeching halt. He welcomed all the paperwork he had to read and sign, the meetings he had to chair, the budgets he had to look over. He did them all with a feeling of relief, for they all kept his mind occupied. He didn’t have time to think about the dream of the night before, or to dread the coming weekend. 
Later that afternoon, as Arlene prepared to leave for the day, the phone rang and she answered it. She put the caller on hold and buzzed Skinner. 

“It’s Agent Scully, sir,” she announced. “Do you want to speak with her?” 

He hesitated a moment. He had been expecting her call all day. “Yes, I’ll take it. You can go ahead and leave, Arlene. I’ll see you in the morning.” He picked up the telephone receiver and dialed the three numbers that allowed him to retrieve the call. 

“Skinner.” 

“Sir, I…I can’t..it’s so wonderful….you really shouldn’t….” Scully’s excited voice coming over the receiver made him smile. 

“Yes, Agent Scully? Is there something I can do for you? And didn’t we agree that you would call me Walter?” He leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. 

She laughed, “Yes, I guess we did, didn’t we? It’s just that, well, I can’t believe that you did such a wonderful thing!” 

“It’s not so much, really. I mean, I needed to get you two a wedding present, and since I don’t think you need a toaster or a microwave, I thought I’d get something I knew you probably wouldn’t get for yourself.” 

“But, Walter, a cruise?” 

“Why not? You were planning on taking a honeymoon, weren’t you?” 

“No,” she admitted. 

“Again I ask, why not? Surely you have enough vacation time.” 

“I don’t know, we just hadn’t discussed it. I mean, the decision to get married was so sudden, and we really hadn’t thought that….” She stopped, and when she resumed speaking her voice was thick with emotion. “I can’t tell you how kind this is of you.” 

“Do you like it?” he asked softly. 

“Of course we do,” she said with a little chuckle. 

We, he thought. I didn’t get it for the ‘we’, I got it for the ‘you’. 

“What did Mulder say?” He closed his eyes and tried to visualize her sitting in her living room. Alone. 

“Try to imagine Mulder speechless,” she laughed. “He’s as touched as I am. But, Walter, twelve days? That’s a long time. And a lot of money. And the stateroom, it’s…it’s….” 

“What’s wrong with it? I can change it if you would prefer something else. I just thought that you might like one that’s kind of…private.” 

“Private? It has its sitting room. It’s freaking HUGE!” she exclaimed. 

“Well, I thought, you know, honeymooners aren’t wanting to have to put up with all the old farts that’ll be strolling the passageways.” 

“How much did this set you back?” she demanded. 

“Don’t worry about it, Scully. You two just enjoy yourselves. Everything is paid for, including any excursions you might want to take when you’re in port. And you’ll be hitting a lot of really nice places. Think how nice and warm you'll be down in the Carribean while all of us back here will be freezing our assorted butts off. So, take lots of pictures.” 

“Oh, I will,” she said happily. “Mulder’s already trying to find some place to buy bathing suits. I think he’s wanting to get me a thong, but I told him not in this lifetime.” 

Skinner opened his eyes quickly as the image of her in a tiny scrape of bathing suit flashed across his brain. 

“Promise me that you won’t let him wear one. And if he does, no pictures! The last thing I want to see is Mulder’s ass hanging out of a g-string.” 

She laughed out loud and he smiled. 

“I promise! I’m not sure the rest of the world is ready to see that, either.” 

There was an awkward silence while he thought of something else to say. 

“Um, I guess you can probably pick up any clothes you might need in Miami before you sail. I’m sure there’s lots of places down there that sell resortwear even in October.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m…I’m sure there is. Um, how’s…how’s things at the JEH Building? I haven’t had a chance to get over there in a while. Monica keeps me up to date, but, well, I should probably make an effort to go visit some of my friends there. And…and to see you. Maybe…Maybe I’ll drop by tomorrow so I can thank you in person for this rather magnificent gift.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. 

“Yes, I do. I would have preferred that you had given them to us yourself so we could have thanked you properly. As it was, I scared the hell out of the messenger from the travel agency,” she said with a smile in her voice. “I don’t think he’s used to being hugged by a wild woman in a bloody lab coat. He probably thought he was about to the next victim.” 

“I apologize for not giving them to you myself, but once I made the arrangements I had to get to the office and take care of Bureau business. God knows the the wheels of justice would stop if I didn’t get in my monthly reports. Are…are you going to have any trouble getting time off?” 

“No,” she said. “I immediately when to the director of the lab and showed her the tickets. She couldn’t have been nicer. Said I could take as long as I want. Which seems kind of strange, because just last week she was telling me that we were seriously backlogged. You…you didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” 

“Nope. Not a thing. I would have been more than happy to help if she had given you any problems, but I didn’t do anything to grease the tracks, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Absolutely.” 

Again the conversation ground to a halt. While he was searching around for something to say, there was a knock at his office door. 

“Uh, hold a minute, Dana, there’s someone at my door.” 

“No, that’s all right. I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to be at my mother’s helping her count silverware, or something. I’ll…I’ll talk to you later. ‘Bye,” she said softly. 

“’Bye,” he echoed as he heard he hang up. He sat for a moment staring at the phone. A sharp rap on the door reminded him of his untimely visitors. He got up and went to open the door. John Doggett was just turning to leave. 

“Sorry, I was on the phone. Come on in, John. What can I do for you?” He motioned for him to sit down, and he returned to his chair behind his desk. 
“Uh, well, I…I was just um, wondering if…” Doggett sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I guess I’m just having a hard time with this whole wedding thing. I mean, don’t you think it’s a little sudden?” 

“Sudden?” snorted Skinner. “John, they’ve been partners for nine years. They’ve been involved as a couple for…three years? They’ve had a son together. This isn’t exactly ‘sudden’. Some people would say it’s about time.” I’m not one of those people, he thought to himself. 

Doggett sat forward in his chair, his arms resting on the leather armrests as he nervously bounced his legs. 

“What’s wrong, John?” 

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I…I guess this marriage business has got me to thinking about me and…” His voice trailed off. “I’m sorry, sir. This is a personal issue and I shouldn’t be bringing it to you. There’s nothing you can do, anyway.” 

“Is it Agent Reyes? Is she starting to pressure you?” Skinner sat back in his chair and waited for Doggett to answer. He smiled at Doggett’s surprised look. “It’s my job to know as much as possible about the agents under my supervision. And I’ve noticed that you and Monica are…close.” 

Doggett shook his head. 

“I would like to think we’re close. And as for pressuring me, not by a long shot. I don’t even know if she’s interested in me for anything other than a friend. I mean, we’ve gone out a few times, but when I think that maybe we’re ready to move on to the next stage, she suddenly closes up like a clam in ice-water.” 

“John, I don’t give advice to my agents about their personal lives. It can make for some sticky situations, especially if I tell them the wrong thing. But, I’m going to make an exception in your case. Maybe…maybe she’s afraid YOU’RE not interested in anything other than friendship. Maybe she’s getting signals from you that are telling her you’re not ready. Do you think that’s possible?” 

“I…I don’t know. I hadn’t thought of that. I like to take things slowly, maybe…maybe she’s reading that as lack of interest.” 

“Okay, here’s a question that is not any of my business. Do you care for her?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then for God’s sake, tell her. Don’t waste time moving along at glacial speed, John. You could miss your chance, and then you'll end up alone wondering what the hell happened. This could be the right time to tell her how you feel. Don’t blow it. Take the bull by the horns.” Skinner smiled slightly as he realized he was doing exactly what Scully had wanted him to do. 

“But what if she rejects me?”, asked Doggett miserably. 

“Then you’ll accept it and move on. At least you won’t be wasting time wondering. But, John, I don’t think she’s going to reject you.” 

Skinner waited for Doggett to answer, but the agent kept staring down at his hands. Skinner suddenly felt like a high-school guidance counselor telling a love-sick student to go ahead and ask the most beautiful girl in school to the homecoming dance. 

The ring of the phone startled them both. Skinner picked up the receiver, “Hello?” 

“So, my son’s getting married,” said a gravelly voice. 

Skinner sat up straight, his face going pale. “Just a moment,” he said into the receiver. He covered it with his hand, “Um, John, if you could excuse me, I need to take this call.” 

“Sure, sure, no problem. I’ll…I’ll think about what you said. Thanks for listening.” The agent stood and left the office. 

Skinner waited until he heard the outer door click shut, then took a deep breath before speaking into the phone. 

“What the hell do you want?” 

“Why, Mr. Skinner, it’s been ages since we last talked. I would have expected a little more courtesy.” The man at the other end of the connection breathed heavily as if it were an effort to draw in oxygen. 
“Courtesy? I don’t think so. Now, what do you want?” Skinner’s irritation was obvious in his voice. 

“Like I said, I understand my son is getting married. I just wanted to get a few details.” 

“If you were able to find out he’s getting married, then you should have no trouble getting whatever details you want.” Skinner tapped his fingers lightly on the arm of his chair. 

“Yes, I should, but some things are not as easily accessible as you might think. And unfortunately, I’m not in a position to call him and ask him directly.” 

“What makes you think I’m going to help you?” 

The man sighed, “For old times sake. Out of respect and friendship….” 

Skinner laughed bitterly, “Respect? Friendship? I don’t think so. There was never any respect OR friendship. I was obligated to report to you, but that no longer holds true. Your hold over me is gone, Spender. It has been for a very long time. So, don’t expect any help from me.” 

“Ah, I see. How sad. All I wanted was to be able to wish my son and his new bride all the best on their wedding day. I just wasn’t sure where to send my gift, you see. I have been unable to find out where they are getting married. Because it’s happening so suddenly, I’m assuming it’s not in a church. But there are hundreds of locations in that area where it could be held.” 

Skinner did not respond. 

“Also, I was wondering if maybe our little Agent Scully just might be pregnant again. She seems have become quite the…baby factory I believe is the term you used to describe her before. Do you remember saying that, AD Skinner?” 

“That was a long time ago,” replied Skinner, surprised the old man remembered that conversation. 

“Yes, yes it was. I also seem to remember asking you if you had developed an attraction for our intrepid Agent Scully. You said no, if I recall. How about now? Still managing to maintain only a professional interest?” Spender’s voice held a note of amusement. 

Skinner was silent again. 

Spender chuckled, “I thought so. It is difficult not to lose one’s heart to her, isn’t it? I’m sure my son would be greatly surprised to find out that the man he considers a friend is in love with his bride. You think he would accept that rather overblown gift of a cruise if he knew that you gave it to impress Agent Scully? And that you would prefer to be the man occupying her bed instead of him?” 

“How did you know about the cruise?” Skinner rubbed his hand over his jaw. 

“As I said, some things are easy to find out. Credit card charges are not that difficult. Seven thousand dollars nearly put you over your limit, didn’t it? That’s going to take you some time to pay down. I would be most agreeable to helping you out, if you would allow me. That way I can feel like I’ve done something for Fox and Dana. Even if they never know about it. And I’m sure you’d never tell them.” 

“I can handle the bill,” said Skinner gruffly. 

“Not wanting to share in the glory of making Dana happy? That’s very selfish of you. But understandable, I suppose, considering how much you care for her.” 

“Look, Spender, I’m not going to give you any information so why don’t we end this call? If you’re so interested, you could always get in touch with Mulder.” Skinner wanted to get off the phone with the man before he somehow inadvertently confirmed his true feelings for Scully to this evil old man. At the moment, Spender seemed to be on a fishing expedition for information and was trying to rattle him. 

“You can’t hide the fact you love her from me,” said Spender as if reading Skinner’s mind. “It’s been obvious for years. The only reason she hasn’t noticed is because she’s been so infatuated with my son. But I think if she was to truly open her eyes for even a moment, she’d see the lost-dog look in your eyes everytime she’s around. Is that what you’ve been hoping for? That she would realize it without you saying anything?” Spender laughed cruelly. “And then what? Do you think she’d dump poor Fox and run off with you? I doubt that seriously. In fact, I would suspect she’d laugh at the idea. And I think you are aware of that also. THAT’S why you’ve never made your feelings known. You’re afraid she’ll be disgusted, or worse, feel pity for you.” 

Skinner’s jaw was clenched so tightly he almost couldn’t get his words out. “I’m hanging up, Spender. I don’t have time to listen to the ravings of a sick old man. If you want any information, look it up in the newspaper on the society page.” 

As Skinner started to hang up the telephone, he could hear the wheezing laugh as Spender contiued to mock him. He slammed down the receiver, then picked it up and slammed it down agaiin. 

“Motherf*cking b*stard!” he shouted. 

Slowly Skinner’s anger subsided and he was at last able to sit back in his chair. That old b*stard had more lives than a cat. Just when it seemed he would not long be a menace to anyone, he’d raise his ugly head, like a rattlesnake just before it strikes 
Why didn’t he just die and make everyone happy? Skinner remembered something his mother often said about disagreeable old people who just seemed to live forever. 

“The devil don’t want his own, Wally,” she’d say with a shake of her head. 

Obviously this minion of hell was going to be around for a long time. Skinner inhaled deeply and slowly breathed out. Surely Spender would not do anything to disrupt the wedding. If he cared as much about Mulder as he purported, hopefully he’d content himself with sending some anonymous gift and not try to intrude. Skinner had no doubt he would find out that the ceremony was to take place at Mrs. Scully’s home; the man seemed to have access to all manner of information. 

Skinner rocked back and forth in his chair. He wondered if Spender knew where Mulder and Scully’s baby now lived. Probably, he thought, but the old man must realize that the child was better off living with people who knew nothing about aliens, or conspiracies, or super soldiers. It was the only way to protect the child from beings who wanted him dead. Skinner was sure that Spender was as afraid of this new threat to humanity as the rest of them. Spender’s power was virtually made null with the collapse of the Conspirators and the rise of people like Knowle Rohr. He had no control over them and that fact was the only reason he left the baby with his new family. 

Skinner shook his head; how different things had turned out since those first few meetings with Spender. The Cigarette-Smoking Man, as Mulder and Scully had called him for years, had always exuded an aura of deadly menace. Skinner did not fear many people, but this old man, with his soft-spoken words, hooded eyes and small, all-knowing smile could make the assistant director almost physically ill. Spender had the power of life and death over countless people, and he made sure Skinner was aware of it. 

That was the reason he had gone to Spender to beg for Scully’s life when she was diagnosed with cancer. He knew he was only tightening the noose around his neck when he promised Spender that he would do anything he wanted in exchange for Scully’s return to health. 

“Ah,” Spender had smirked, “so the sheep is returning to the fold. I seem to recall someone telling me to kiss his ass if anything should happen to Agent Mulder or Scully. Remember that, Assistant Director? It was right after that ugly incident with the DAT, when you had that Native American translate the documents stored on it and then commit them to memory. I was most displeased that you had taken it upon yourself to try and thwart me. 

“And now look at you. Practically groveling, asking me to spare this woman’s life. As if I had any control. I’m flattered you think I’m that powerful, but really, what can I possibly do? She’s got cancer, and sad to say she’ll more than likely become another sad statistic at the Center for Disease Control. Too bad, I was growing fond of her.” 

“You can do something, Spender,” Skinner had said through clenched teeth. “You know exactly how to cure her.” 

“Why should I?” Spender inhaled smoke from the ubiquitous cigarette he held and blew it out in a thick stream. 

“Because she means a lot to Mulder, and no telling what he might do, or no do, if she dies.” Skinner did not move as the smoke encircled him. 

“She seems to mean a lot to you, too,” observed Spender. 

Skinner had not said anything, just continued to glare at him through the haze. He did not want to reveal how much she meant to him, especially to Spender. 

“I’ll see what I can do, Skinner,” the man said as he dismissed the assistant director. 

“I need more reassurance than that,” Skinner had argued. 

“These things take time,” Spender responded angrily. “I’ll let you know when I need you. In the meantime, I’m going to want reports on Mulder’s activities. And nothing half-assed. Complete reports. Remember, if you think I’m capable of curing her, then you must realize that I can make things go the opposite way if I’m given what I want.” 

And Skinner had worked for him, as much as he hated every moment of it. But he would have done anything to make sure she recovered. He began to have his doubts about Spender’s abilities as her health steadily declined. And he was ready to kill him when she finally collapsed at a review board meeting. 

Even now, more than five years since that incident, he could still remember the panic he’d felt when she had collapsed into his arms. He had held her close as blood from her nose stained his shirt and suit. He had been reluctant to let go when the paramedics had finally arrived to rush her to the hospital. 

He had gone in search of Spender, but the man seemed to be hiding from him. When he learned of Spender’s purported death he had believed that Scully had received her own death sentence. The joy he felt when Mulder told him that she seemed to have made a complete and miraculous recovery was indescribable. He had had to restrain himself from rushing into her room and sweeping her out of bed and into his arms. If it hadn’t been for the sight of her family and priest and the knowledge that Mulder was sitting right out side the door, he would have kissed her right then and there, even though it would have shocked the hell out of her. 

He sighed as he stood up to leave. Of course he hadn’t kissed her; he wasn’t about to do anything that might seem the least bit spontaneous. That had been his problem his whole life. He never did anything unexpected or that he hadn’t examined from every angle. How dull and plodding that must make him seem. When in reality, he daydreamed of being the knight in shining armor, the rescuer of fair maidens, the teller of funny stories, the life of any party. Instead he watched from a corner of the room as others occupied center stage, or played Sir Galahad to ladies in need, or…or married the woman he loved more than life.

The two-note beep echoed through the parking garage as Skinner disarmed the alarm on his car and unlocked the door. He threw his briefcase onto the front seat and was just about the climb in behind the wheel when he heard his name called and the staccato sound of women’s heeled shoes. He turned around and saw Monica Reyes running towards him 
Oh, great, move advice to the love-lorn. I should put a shingle, he thought. The doctor is in…over his head. He waited with trepidation as she ran up to him. 

“Whew, I wasn’t sure I was going to catch you,” she panted. “Thanks for waiting.” 

“Think nothing of it, Agent Reyes. What can I do for you? I gather this is not necessarily Bureau business or you would have come up to my office.” 

“Um, no, no sir it’s not. It’s about Dana and Mulder’s wedding.” 

Big surprise, he thought with an inward sigh. “I don’t really know much about it,” he said aloud, “other than time and place.” 

“No, no, I know most of the details, I…I just, um, was wondering what you were wearing?” 

He stared at her for a moment as she fidgeted in embarrassment. He really did feel like he was back in high school. Hell, he didn’t HAVE these kinds of conversations even when he WAS in high school. 

“Clothes, Agent Reyes. I’m wearing clothes.” 

“I know THAT, sir, I just meant…I mean, I wanted to know…uh…” she stammered to a stop. 

Skinner stood with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for her to continue. He truly had no clue as to what she wanted. 

“N-n-never mind, I…I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry to have bothered you, sir. Good night," and she turned to walk away. 

“Wait, Agent Reyes. Monica.” He reached out and took her arm to stop her. She looked at the concrete floor of the garage, unable to look at him. 

“It must have been something important enough for you to wait for me, so go ahead and ask.” 

“No, really, it was…it was nothing.” She continued to stare at the floor, her brow wrinkled. 

“Monica,” he said again softly, “just go ahead and tell me. Is it…is it John?” 

“Well, indirectly, yes.” 

“Indirectly,’ said Skinner flatly. He shook his head in confusion. 

She bit her lip, then decided to take the plunge. She inhaled deeply. “I…I need to buy a dress for the wedding and I want to make sure I get something that will…” she cleared her throat nervously, “that will…” 

“…knock his socks off,” finished Skinner. 

She nodded. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find something that will do just fine,” he assured her. He patted her arm and gave her a reassuring smile, all the time thinking…and for this you stopped me from going home? 

“I…uh…I would like some help choosing a dress,” she said in a rush. 

Skinner raised one eyebrow, “I’m sure Agent Scully can….” 

“No, sir, she can’t. She’s busy getting everything ready AND trying get as much work as possible done before she leaves on her honeymoon, oh and sir, that was very, VERY generous of you and so I was wondering…” 

She was speaking so quickly that Skinner was having a hard time following her train of thought. Suddenly, he realized what she was about to ask and his eyes widened in fear. 

“No, Monica, no. I can’t. I’m…I’m not good at that sort of thing. I wouldn’t know the first thing about wedding clothes.” 

“But sir, you’ve been married before. And you are a man.” 

“Monica, I was barely able to vote when I got married to Sharon. The last thing on my mind that day was what everybody was wearing. She could have worn mosquito netting and I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. I don’t think I’m the right person for this job.” He started to back slowly away from her. 

Now it was her turn to stop him with a hand on his arm. “Sir, I would really appreciate your opinion. I’m…if you’ve noticed, I’m not exactly a clotheshorse. My taste in clothes runs towards dark colors and pants. Or jeans. I want to get something that will look make an impression. You know what I mean?” 

“Monica, you’re a very beautiful woman and I don’t think a dress would make that much difference. John’s attraction to you is more than just physical looks. You’re smart, warm, caring…” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got a great personality, too,” she said impatiently. “But if all that is true, why is taking his own sweet time about…” She scrunched up her face in exasperation. 

“Making a move?” 

“Yes. That’s why I want this dress to be something special. Something that will make him see me in a different light. Someone, um…” she shrugged her shoulder and sighed. 

“Sexy? Desirable? Someone he’d want to ravage right then and there?” he teased. 

She laughed, “Yeah, something like that. Please, sir? Would you PLEASE go with me to just kind of…” 

“Back you up?” 

She nodded vigorously, her hands clasped in front of her, her face pleading with him. 

“You’re not going to give up until I say yes, right?” 

She nodded again. 

He sighed in surrender. “Okay, Monica. Let’s get this over with. But promise me, if he does respond like you want, no ravaging at the reception, okay?” 

She nodded again, happily clapping her hands. “Thank you, sir, thank you!” 

Skinner opened the passenger door for her to get in. 

“We can get you a new tie at the same time,” she babbled. “Something that matches my dress.” 

“You mean,” he said as he slid behind the steering wheel, “I can’t wear my brown tie with the jack-o-lanterns on it? I mean, it’s so close to Halloween, and she did say wear something festive.” 

Monica’s mouth dropped open, her eyes wide. 

“It’s a joke, Monica.” 

Skinner started the car and drove out of the parking garage, just as John Doggett exited an elevator. He stared in astonishment as he recognized the car and the passenger. 

“Where the hell is he going with my girl?”

Skinner was ensconced on a comfortable wingback chair near the fitting rooms of “D’Oro”, an upscale dress shop located in an upscale strip mall in Georgetown. The sales associates fluttered around him like butterflies around a patch of wildflowers, plying him with glasses of champagne, a bowl of mints, an ancient copy of *Sport Illustrated*. 
When he and Monica had first walked in, the four or five sales ladies had looked at him as another handsome man out shopping with his wife. But once they found out the two were not married, in fact not even a pair, they had descended like vultures smelling carrion. And though it was late in their work day, and usually would be a little surly at having to deal with last minute shoppers, they suddenly developed customer relations skills they didn’t know they had. 

Monica, in the meantime, with one somewhat reluctant sales associate in tow, had spent the better part of an hour and half pulling dresses from the racks. She would hold a likely candidate up, tilt her head from one side to the other, and either put it back or hand it to the long-suffering clerk. She was looking for a dress that instantly said ‘I am the One”. So far, she’d had about a dozen dresses that came close. 

Skinner and Monica had discussed what would be the appropriate style on the way to the shop. 

“Dana is not wearing an actual bride’s dress,” explained Monica. “I mean, it’s not something you would find in one of those gargantuan bride’s magazines. It’s long, simple, but very elegant. So, I need to get something that’s along the same lines, and doesn’t overwhelm the simplicity of the dress.” 

“And something that will make John focus on you,” Skinner said with a grin. 

“Yeah,” she grinned back. 

Skinner sneaked a look at his watch as yet another glass of sparkling wine appeared at his elbow. He hadn’t eaten and the wine was giving him a headache. Eight o’clock. The store closed in another hour, so hopefully sales associate helping Monica would guide her towards the fitting room. The woman must have read his mind because he saw Monica at last slip behind the curtained partition. After a few minutes, she stepped out and mounted a small platform in front of a bank of mirrors. She turned one way, then the other, looking at the dress from all angles. 

“What do you think?” she asked. 

She was wearing a black dress with long sleeves, a high neck, and a skirt that brushed the floor. 

“You look like a nun,” he said flatly. “Besides, is black a good color for a wedding? Don’t you think it might bring down the happiness level just a bit?” 

“A nun?” she squeaked. She shook her head vigorously. “Next!” 

Her mood deteriorated as she tried on outfit after outfit, each getting a negative response from Skinner. 

“Okay,” she said in frustration, “I’m down to three that I haven’t tried on. If it’s not one of these, I’m doomed. I hate shopping as it is, and this is making me feel like I should just wear one of my suits from work and be done with it.” 

“Don’t give up yet, Monica,” said Skinner. “There’s always tomorrow.” 

“No, it has to be tonight! If the dress needs altering, they’ll need more than two days to do it.” She sighed and scratched her head. “I hate this! I don’t know why I’m even trying to impress that jerk. If he can’t see me for what I am, how is one dress going to change his mind?” 

“He knows you for what you are, the dress is not to change his mind, but to make him appreciate what his missing. Now, go, try on one of the others. “ Skinner smiled at the woman who brought him the cup of coffee he’d asked for instead of champagne. She smiled back and licked her lips slowly. She leaned down to whisper in his ear, giving him an exclusive view of her cleavage. 

“Here’s my number,” she whispered as she slipped her hand inside his jacket to put a piece of folded paper into his shirt pocket. “Call me anytime.” She straightened and tugged at the hem of her extremely short skirt, then moved to stand behind his chair as if claiming disputed territory for her own. The other sales associates glared at her. 

Skinner took the paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. He nodded slowly, then cupped the paper in his hand and slowly hid it in the cushion of the chair. 

Monica came out wearing a pair of light wool pants in a brown and gold tweed and a matching jacket. She once again turned from side to side as she adjusted the sleeves. Skinner started to protest that it was similar to some of the clothes she wore to work when she slipped off the jacket. Underneath she was wearing a camisole with a neckline that plunged between her breasts. She turned around and he could see that the back was cut even lower. 
“What do you think? This is kind of versatile,” she said. “Jacket on for the ceremony, jacket off for the dinner. Do you think John will notice?” 

“Oh, oh, yeah, he’ll, uh, he’ll notice. But, um, won’t you be cold? I mean, there’s…there’s not a lot to that top.” 

“We’ll only be outside for a while, I think I can stand it. The jacket is wool and it’s actually kind of warm. Look,” she said as she stepped off the platform and went to stand in front of him. “The material feels nice, doesn’t it? Kind of soft and just the tiniest bit clingy.” 

Skinner gingerly touched the fabric stretched slightly across her hip. “The pants fit nicely,” he commented. “I don’t think they’re going to require any fitting at all.” 

“What about the top? Do you think it’s a little, um, much? Or not, as the case may be?” 

“What is it made of?” He wasn’t about to find out. 

“Silk. You don’t think it’s too low?” 

“No, no, of course not. Um, but, uh, what kind of…um, well,” he stammered as he put his hands in front of his own chest and moved them back and forth. 

“None,” she answered absently. “So you think John would like this?” 

“Oh, I think he might take a second glance.” 

“I’m not sure about the whole pants thing, though. I’d really rather wear a dress. Hang on, there’s one more I want to try.” She disappeared yet again and returned moments later wearing a dress that almost made him stop breathing. 

The dress was a plum colored slip dress with a soft swirly skirt with a handkerchief hem. The thin straps at the shoulders showed off her slim arms and long graceful neck. The top of the dress draped softly across her bosom, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. The bodice was fitted tightly from below her breasts to the dropped waistline where the skirt fell in several layers of almost translucent organza that reached to mid-calf. 

“Whoa,” muttered Skinner. 

“You like it?” said Monica with a grin. “Do you think John will?” 

“If he doesn’t then the boy is mentally deficient,” chortled Skinner. “Agent Reyes, we have a winner.” 

“I think you’re right,” she said happily. “It has a wrap, too, that I can wear during the ceremony, and then take off once we get inside the house.” She took the long silk satin shawl the sales associate was holding and wrapped it around her shoulders, effectively making the dress much more modest. 

The next few minutes were spent locating just the right shoes and she stood on the platform once again to get the total effect. Skinner had to admit she looked incredibly sexy. Even the shoes, which seemed to him to be nothing more than a continuous tangle of straps on impossibly high heels, seemed to enhance her beauty. 

After paying for her purchases and accepting the thanks of the sales associate who had just made a hefty commission, Monica and Skinner at last climbed into his car. She sighed happily, daydreaming about John’s reaction when he saw her. 

“How about some dinner?” asked Skinner. “It’s after nine and I’m starving.” 

“Sure, sounds like a good idea to me,” she agreed with a grin. 

“Um, not to be nosy or anything, Monica, but exactly how much did all that cost you?” 

“Wa-a-y too much,” she admitted. “Don’t be surprised if you see a request for a raise come across your desk. But, if it does what I want it do, it’ll be worth all the peanut butter I’m going to have to eat for a while. So this may be the last good meal I'll have for a month or two.” 

"Then I'd better feed you well," he said as he started the car.

“Thank you, sir,” said Monica with a happy sigh, “that was delicious.” 
“You barely ate anything, Monica!” Skinner exclaimed, pushing away his own empty plate. 

“I’m too…excited to eat,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “Excited and afraid.” 

“Afraid of what?” 

“That the whole thing is a waste of time,” she said softly. “That maybe he might be indifferent towards me. And that is just a little daunting.” 

“I don’t think he’s indifferent. Maybe he’s as frightened as you are. You’re both standing on a fence, waiting to see which way the other jumps before making your own leap. Make that leap, Monica, and he’ll follow you right on over.” 

“But what if…?” 

“Be brave, Agent Reyes," he teased. "Just do it or you’re going to find yourself getting very tired, trying to maintain your balance. 

Monica sat quietly for a moment, pleating her napkin. “I wonder if that’s what happened to Dana and Mulder. If she got tired of waiting and that’s why she decided to move to the next level.” 

“She…? SHE...?” Skinner’s stomach clenched and he suddenly felt nauseated. “How…how do you know?” 

“She told me,” said Monica with a shrug. “I guess she was trying to give me the courage to do the same thing. She’s a lot stronger than I am,” she sighed, “and a lot braver.” 

“Yes, she…she is that.” His forehead wrinkled; his headache was returning. 

Monica continued blithely, unaware of the change in Skinner’s mood. 

“I’m glad they’ve decided to get married. You must feel the same way, especially after watching them together after all these years. It must be almost like *Well, it’s about time!*” she chuckled. 

“Yeah, s-s-something like that.” Skinner looked around the restaurant, trying to spot their waiter. He wanted to pay the bill and get out. 

“I guess over the years you’ve wanted to give them a little shove in the right direction.” 

“Not really,” he said absently as he looked over the bill before handing it back to the waiter with his credit card. “I don’t like to interfere in my agents private lives.” 

Monica looked up at him quickly. “What?” she laughed. “But…but that’s just what you’re doing with me and John. Not interfering, but getting involved. You mean to say that you’ve never wanted to sit one or the other of them down and tell them exactly what you’ve told me?” 

“Um, well, I’m not really doing anything, am I?” he said, back pedaling as quickly as he could “I…I only gave my advice about a dress. It’s not like I’m telling you to…” 

“Yes, you are. You just did. Have you all ready forgotten?” She looked at him with amusement, which quickly turned to concern. “Are you feeling all right, sir? You look kind of…pale.” 

“I’m fine, Monica. I…it’s been a long day. Are you ready?” He stood up and held her chair for her to rise. 

“I think you should ask Dana to look at you. I’m sure she’d want the best man to be in good health when he sees them finally tie the knot.” 

“I’m fine, Monica,” he repeated with a tad bit of irritation. 

“You could stop by her place on your way home. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind checking you out. I mean, she’s taken care of you before, right?” She waited while he opened the car door for her. Just as she was about to get in, she reached out and touched his forehead. “You’re a little warm. Maybe you’re coming down with something.” 

He jerked his head away from her hand. “Monica, there’s nothing wrong with me,” he said angrily. “I appreciate your concern, but stop worrying.” 

“Look, I’m just wanting to make sure that you’re not sick for the wedding. That would kill Mulder and Dana. They’re both so fond…” 

“I’ll be fine for the wedding. I’ll be in tip-top shape, so please…just…just stop. Everything will go off without a hitch, the ceremony will be lovely, the reception will be lovely, they’ll start their new life together and everything will be just lovely!” He slammed her car door and went around to get in on the driver’s side. 

Monica watched him as he fumbled with the keys, unable to locate the right one. Finally he jammed the correct key into the ignition and started the car. He pulled out of the parking space with a squeal of tires. There was an angry honk from a taxicab that narrowly missed hitting them. 

He drove in silence, his jaw clenched tight. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. 

“So, how long have you been in love with her?” 

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t take them from the road ahead. 

“I don’t know what you mean. Who am I supposedly in love with?” 

“Dana,” she said flatly. “At least I’m assuming it’s Dana. I’d hate to think it was Mulder.” 

He snorted slightly. “No, it’s not Mulder. And it’s not Dana. It’s not anyone, Monica.” 

“Then why are you so angry?” 

“I’m NOT angry,” he insisted. “I’m…I’m tired. It’s been a long day at the office and I’m not used to marathon shopping right after work. I just…I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow, and now I’m anxious to get home, that’s all.” He reduced his speed and tried to relax. “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but like I said, it’s been…” 

“Yeah, a long day. I’m…I’m sorry I dragged you along with me, it’s just that…” 

“I didn’t mind going, Monica, I really did enjoy myself. I guess…I guess I’m just getting old and…” 

“You’re not old, sir.” 

“Oh, yeah? Then why am I getting mail from AARP?” He pulled into the parking lot of the FBI building and parked next to Monica’s car.” 

“Is that what you’re afraid of? That she’ll think you’re too old? Sir, you’re a handsome, vibrant, and if you’ll excuse me for saying, incredibly sexy man. And I think you might have been surprised at the response you would have gotten from her, if you had jumped off that fence you say I’m on.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Monica.” He looked at her quickly, then cleared his throat. “I’ll see you in the morning. I think we have a meeting at 10:00, if I’m not mistaken.” 

She nodded and smiled slightly, “Yes sir. I’ll see you then. Thanks again for going with me. I think you helped me choose just the right dress.” She got out and opened the rear door to get her packages. “Good night, sir.” 

“Good night, Monica.” He waited until she unlocked her car and settled the dress and the bag with her shoes in the seat beside her. She started her car, then waved as she drove out of the garage.

Skinner had to control his urge to slam his door as he entered his apartment. He took off his jacket and threw it onto the sofa, then struggled to get his tie off. It ended up on the floor. He stepped over it and went to his liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of Scotch. He poured a large amount of the liquid into a glass then went to stand out on his balcony. 
He should have kept that phone number, he thought. He could have called that woman, whatever her name is, and gotten her to come over. She seemed more than willing, and they would have ended up in bed, screwing their brains out. It wouldn’t have been difficult, and maybe, just maybe he could have exorcised the images that were currently flooding his brain. 

Scully and Mulder in bed, making love, her hands caressing that dweeb’s skinny, out of shape body. Skinner stared out at the city stretching below him and took a long swallow of his drink. What the hell had he been expecting? He knew she and Mulder had had sex, good Lord, how the hell did he think William was conceived? They had to have been having sex ever since he returned. So what was the big f-ing deal? 

The big deal was he had always assumed (hoped?) that Mulder had been the aggressor, that he had initiated their first encounter. In Skinner’s mind, Scully had always just gone along with Mulder to be polite. 

Polite? Skinner snorted and took another sip of his drink. Yeah, right. She had merely tolerated Mulder’s feeble attempts (and Skinner just knew that any sex with Mulder had to be inadequate) at intercourse because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Skinner shook his head at his own naiveté 

Of COURSE she had made the first move. She had grown tired of waiting for Mulder to act, so she had taken things into her own hands and gone after what she wanted. And it was obvious that she had wanted Mulder. God! What did she see in him? He was an ugly, big-nosed, porno-watching, flabby smart-ass, and she was crazy about him. 

WHAT? WHAT DID SHE SEE IN HIM? The question screamed in his mind. Maybe she felt sorry for him, maybe…maybe she thought that he was some kind of tragic romantic figure. He’d lost his sister; he had been on this mighty quest to find out what happened to her. And so single-minded was he in the pursuit of this that maybe…maybe that had attracted her. 

Yeah, except that single-mindedness had prevented him from … Skinner took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Prevented him from what, he asked himself. Exactly the same thing that he himself had wanted to do but had held back? To declare his love for her and sweep her off her feet? At least Mulder had an excuse. What had been his? Nothing. He had no excuse. He had simply been too much of a coward to do what he had dreamed about for so long. 

He heard his telephone ring and went back inside to answer it. He checked the caller id and saw that it was Scully’s number. He let the phone ring. He was feeling too sorry for himself to try to put on happy face for her. Eventually his answering machine picked up. 

“Please leave a message after the beep,” his voice on the recorded said tersely. 

“Hi, it’s me. I just called to see how you were doing. I spoke to Monica and she told me all about the dress and how kind you were to help her out. After the description she gave me, if John’s eyes don’t pop out of his head, then we may need to get it examined. His head that is,” she said, her voice filled with laughter. “Anyway, she also said you weren’t feeling well. If you think you’re getting ill, please call me and let me check you over. Maybe we can nip whatever it is in the bud, because I would hate for you to be sick on Saturday. Call me when you get in, no matter what the time. If you don’t, I’ll check with you tomorrow at work. ‘Bye.” 

He stared at the machine as it went through its series of clicks and whirrs. Maybe he should call her back, just to let her know he was all right. If he didn’t, she would make good on her promise and call him at the office. Or worse, come by. It was bad enough to talk to her on the phone, but to see her face-to-face…he shook his head. He supposed he should be touched by her concern, but he felt that she was just worried that he would be a no-show for the wedding and there would be no best man. 

That wasn’t true, thought Skinner. She had always been concerned about his health. When the same man that killed her sister had shot him, she had stayed by his side, reassuring him that he would be all right. She had even gone so far as to go with him when he was being transferred by ambulance to another hospital. 

It was during the time he was hospitalized because of the nanocytes Krycek had exposed him to that he had come close to telling her how he felt about her. He knew he was dying and had decided that he wanted her to know how much he loved her. As he had lain in bed, trying to decide exactly what to say, he had gotten a glimpse of his swollen discolored body reflected in a metal tray. He realized in that instant that if he declared his love for her that he would put her in a very awkward spot. She would have to tell him she loved him also out of pity for his condition. And he hadn’t wanted her pity, not then, not ever. 

So he kept his mouth shut, and when he made a miraculous recovery had been grateful that he hadn’t said anything. That way, neither of them had been embarrassed and they could continue in the same Platonic path they had been on for years. 

Yeah, but what if…said a teensy little voice in the back of his mind. What if she had wanted him to say something, to tell her he loved her? What if he had blown the only chance he had ever had? Maybe…maybe she did care. That would explain why she had been willing to come to his office in the dead of night to check him out. 

Not bloody likely. She’d gone to his office because Mulder had asked her, and she’d do just about anything for him, even if it meant traveling the darkened streets of Washington DC. She had been concerned for Skinner’s health, sure, but it was for Mulder that she’d shown up. 

Skinner debated a long while whether or not to call her back. Finally, around midnight he picked up the phone and dialed her number. Best to reassure her now that he was all right, that way she wouldn’t show up at his office. 

“Hello,” answered a sleepy male voice. 

Skinner immediately hung up, then chastised himself for doing so. He knew they were probably living together, even though neither had ever said anything. What did he expect? Just because he didn’t want to admit it to himself didn’t change the reality of the situation. 
The phone rang and he checked the id again. It was Scully. She obviously had checked HER caller id. 

“Hello?” 

“Are you all right? You hung up so fast I got worried that something was wrong!” 

“I…I dropped the cordless phone and it hung up,” he lied. 

“Are you sure everything’s all right? You sound kind of funny.” 

“No, no, honestly, I’m fine. That’s…that’s why I’m calling, just to let you know that Monica was overreacting and that I’m healthy as a horse.” 

“She said you seemed to be running a fever or something. Look, why don’t I run over there and just…” 

“There’s no need, Dana, please. Besides, you’re all ready in bed, and I wouldn’t want…” 

“No, I’m not,” she interrupted. “I was writing a report while I waited for you to call. Mulder fell asleep on the couch watching television. Look, it’s no problem for me to…” 

Now it was his turn to interrupt. “I said no, Dana. There’s nothing wrong with me. I was…I am a little tired after shopping with Monica, that’s all. She’s blowing everything way out of proportion. She’s probably feeling guilty about dragging this old man along on her quest for the perfect dress.” 

“You’re not old, and quit fishing for compliments,” she laughed. “You’re right, she’s trying to assuage her guilt about recruiting you to be her personal shopper. I think she was afraid you were bored to tears. Although, she did say she saw one of the sales clerks give you her phone number. Make sure you write it down in your little black book,” she teased. 

“She saw that? No wonder the woman’s a good investigator,” laughed Skinner. “Although if she was as good as she thinks, she would have seen that I left it in the cushion of the chair they held me hostage in.” 

“You…you left it? Really? Why?” 

“Yes, I really did. Why? Because she wasn’t my type.” 

“Monica said she was very beautiful.” 

“I didn’t notice. Besides, Monica is the same person who told you I was sick, so what can I say?” 

“What…what is your type?” she asked cautiously. 

“Why?” 

“So..so we can keep a look out on our cruise and bring you back a present,” she teased. 

“Man, am I that pathetic that you don’t think I can find a woman on my own?” he laughed. 

“You haven’t so far!” 

“Maybe I haven’t been looking,” he answered. 

“Why not?” she asked quietly. “It shouldn’t be hard, with all those women throwing themselves at you.” 

“I’ve not been interested before.” 

“And now?” 

“Scully, have you always been this inquisitive? I bet when you were a kid you were a real why-baby.” 

“I drove my parents nuts,” she laughed. 

“I’m not surprised,” he chuckled. “Go to buh…go finish your report, Scully. I’ve got a busy morning tomorrow and I need to get some rest so I can be on my toes when I meet with Doggett and Monica.” 

“Giving you headaches, are they?” 

“Not really, not as many as you and Mulder used to give me. Now, I must really say good-night.” 

“Well, if you’re sure you’re all right.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“I can always drop by your office tomorrow, just to…” 

“No, Dana, you don’t need to do that. Look, if it will make you feel better, I promise I’ll call you if I do start to feel sick. Or…or I’ll have Arlene call, how’s that? Now, quit worrying about me. You’ve got enough on your mind with this…with your wedding. Just concentrate on that, and I’ll see you on Saturday.” 

“Friday.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Friday. Because there’s no rehearsal, Mulder wants to take us all out for dinner Friday night. It’ll be you, Monica, John, and my mother. My brother and Tara won’t be able to go. She gets tired easily because of her pregnancy, so they’re going to stay at home and rest up for Saturday. Mulder will call you with the time and place.” 

“Okay, then, Friday night. Good night, Dana.” 

“’Night, Walter,” she said with a smile in her voice. 

 “You can go on in, Agent Reyes. Agent Doggett is already waiting,” said Arlene as she looked up from the paper work on her desk. “AD Skinner will be here in a few moments. He was called down to the Human Resources office, and said that you two were to wait inside.” 
“Thanks, Arlene,” said Monica with a nod of her head. She entered Skinner’s office and went to sit in the chair next to John’s. 

“Where’ve you been?” he grumbled. “And what’s with the bag?” 

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked in surprise as she sat the shopping bag down beside her chair. 

“Well, for one thing, you’re late.” 

“It’s not even ten o’clock yet, how can I be late?” 

“I mean, you didn’t show up downstairs and I was beginning to wonder if you were going to call in sick or something.” He studied his hands as he spoke to her. “I thought maybe you’d…you’d gone out on the town and uh, you know, partied a little to hard.” 

“John,” she laughed, “exactly when is the last time I went out and did anything like that? If you must know, I went shopping, and this morning I realized I had to pick up something else, so I took advantage and stopped off on my way to work.” 

“You went shopping,” he said in disbelief. “Alone?” 

“No, I went with a friend.” 

“Unh-hunh. And what did you and your ‘friend’ do afterwards?” 

She looked at his with a confused expression. “We went out to eat. Then I went home. For God’s sake, what’s with the third degree?” 

“Nothing,” he said innocently, “I just wondered…” 

“Well, if you must know, this morning my shopping was not for me, but for you. Look,” she said excitedly as she opened her bag and took out a long thin box. “I hope you don’t mind, but I...I bought you a tie. For Dana’s wedding.” 

She timidly held the box out to him. He looked at in surprise for a moment before opening it. He carefully lifted the tie from the box, whistling softly as he did so. The background was pewter colored with slashes of plum like blades of sea grass streaking across the width of the tie. 

“Hermes? Monica, these ties are very expensive! Why…?” 

“I know, but I thought it would…I just wanted to…” her voice trailed off. She cleared her throat, “Do you like it?” 

“It’s…it’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been given anything so expensive for no reason. You really shouldn’t have.” He slowly put the tie back into the box as he tried to suppress the happy grin that kept trying to escape 

“Oh, well, we can pretend it’s a late birthday AND an early Christmas present if it will make you feel better.” 

“It’s a deal. But you got to promise you’ll not buy me anything else, okay?” 

“Okay,” she agreed happily. 

“Thanks again, Monica,” Doggett said softly as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. She turned her head just as his lips started to touch her skin and the kiss landed on the corner of her mouth. 

He pulled his head back, waiting for her to make some comment about missing the target, but instead saw a look of tenderness in her eyes. They leaned towards each other and just as their lips were about to touch, Skinner entered his office. 

“Not on company time, Agents,” he said sternly as they jumped apart. He gave Monica a surreptitious wink as Doggett fumbled with the top to the tie box. She grinned back happily. 

“Sorry, sir,” mumbled Doggett. “Um, Agent Reyes gave me a gift and I was just…” 

“Thank her later, Agent. Right now, I need for you two to explain to me how I’m supposed to justify this expense report. Exactly why did you need to rent a Hummer?” 

The rest of the day was spent in one meeting after another, the last ending after midnight. Skinner finally made it home exhausted and stumbled up to his bed where he collapsed into dreamless sleep. Well, dreamless for the most part. 
Somewhere near dawn he dreamed that he was lying on his back next to Scully. She had her left leg thrown over his thighs, her left hand combing lightly through the hair on his chest as she kissed and nibbled at his ear. She was lying on his left arm, his hand resting on her hip. He had his right arm pillowing his head. 

“Thank you for letting me come over on such notice,” she said as she kissed his neck. “I really appreciate it.” 

“Why did you want to see me, Agent Scully?” he asked. 

“Well, I wanted to have some great sex before I got married. Mulder is so…hopeless.” She slid her body over his until she was sitting on him. “Rumor has it that you’re the best around, and I wanted to see for myself." 

He put his hands on her hips as she started to rub against him. He pulled her forward until her breasts dangled over his face; he reached up with his mouth and suckled gently at each while she moved faster and faster. 

“F*ck me, Walter, f*ck me till I scream for mercy,” she whispered hoarsely. 

“No,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her and clasped her body to his. “No.” He turned over until she was lying under him. “I want to make love to you until you beg to stay with me. I want to show you how wonderful it is when two people in love can express it.” 

“But Walter,” she said matter-of-factly, “I don’t love you. I love Mulder that’s why we’re getting married. And no matter how bad the sex may be, I’ll always love him.” 

“Then why…why are you here?” He felt as if he’d been punched. 

“I told you, I just wanted sex, nothing more, nothing less. I don’t love you, I never have and I never will. How could I? You’re too…wishy-washy.” 

“Me?” he squeaked, “I am wishy-washy? What about Mulder? He’s worse that I am. He’s so ineffectual that you had to be the one to make the first move.” 

“Yeah, but at least he responded. You wouldn’t have, you would have been too noble to take me. You would have come up with some lame excuse like Mulder’s in love with me, so how could you possibly do anything to hurt him. Well, trust me, Walter, Mulder wouldn’t have thought twice about stabbing you in the back if the roles had been reversed. 

“Besides, he’s much bigger than you. And while he may not know how to use it, he sure can last longer,” she said as she batted at his now flaccid penis. “I guess it’s because he’s younger and you’re just too old. Too old, too old….” 

The words echoed in his head as he woke slowly, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He rubbed his hand over his face, surprised to find tears on his cheeks. The dream was quickly fading from his memory, but the feeling of loss remained. 

He checked his alarm clock; 5:30 am. If he got up right now, he could go down to the pool in the basement of his apartment building and get in a few laps before work. Because of his schedule, he seldom used the pool. He put on a pair of swimming trunks then a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt. He grabbed a towel and slipped his bare feet into a pair of flip-flop style sandals. He locked his apartment, then took the elevator down to the basement where he used the same key to open the glass door to the swimming pool. 

The chlorine smell hit him as he opened the door, and the air was warm and moist from the heat of the pool. He found the light switches that turned on the pool lights, then stripped off his pants and shirt, and carefully took off his glasses and lay them with his towel on a bench against the wall. He stood for a moment at the side of the pool, then quickly jumped in. The water was warmer than he expected as he positioned himself to push off and start his laps. He swam steadily, turning smoothly as he reached the end of each lap. 

He was tired after twenty-five laps, so he rolled over onto his back and floated quietly for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He closed his eyes and tried to think of work and what lay ahead of him for the day. He slowly became aware that someone else had entered the room. He could sense them walking around the pool, reaching down to touch the water. 

He opened his eyes to see a tall willowy brunette removing a short robe to reveal a well-shaped body in a one-piece bathing suit. It reminded him of the ones worn by the US Olympic women swimmers. It was cut high at the leg and form fitting. He wondered how she got it off when it was wet. He shook his head, get a grip Walter, he thought. 

He swam to the edge and started to pull himself out when he heard her call out. 

“You don’t have to leave. I don’t mind swimming with someone else.” 

“That’s okay,” he answered, “I’ve got to go get ready for work. I’ve been here a while and I’m kinda tired. Enjoy your swim.” He put his hands flat on the tile at the edge of the pool and heaved himself up. 

She watched in appreciation as the muscles of his shoulders rippled. Nice looking man, she thought. Nice ass. Good legs. And not bad in the face, either. She went to stand beside him, holding out her hand. 

“Hi, my name’s Elizabeth. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before.” 

He shook her hand slowly. “I don’t get down here much. I’m Walter. It’s..it’s nice to meet you.” He let go of her hand and smiled at her. Her heart gave a lurch at the transformation of his face. He was handsome, but when he smiled, it was enough to make her go weak in the knees. 

“Um, you live here?” she asked, then laughed. “Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to unlock the door. Sorry, that was a dumb question.” 

“Not really. I was about to ask you the same thing.” He padded over to the bench where he had put his towel and glasses and came back to talk to her as he dried off. “Have you lived here long?” 

“Yeah, about six months,” she said, watching him in fascination as he rubbed the towel over his body. “How about you?” 

“Six years. Ever since my divorce.” He was rubbing his head with the towel before putting his glasses on. 

Her eyes widened slightly. “Sorry to hear about that. It can be very…traumatic, can’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he said, “it can. Are you divorced?” He pulled his tee shirt over his head and stepped into his sweatpants. 

“Um, no. No, I’ve never been married. But I’m an attorney and I’ve seen how it can affect people.” 

“Yeah, well, mine was a long time ago, so hopefully I’ve gotten over it by now.” He was trying not to stare at the woman. She was a beauty with her dark hair tied up in some kind of knot on the top of her head, and her green eyes and soft creamy skin. “Well, it was nice meeting you,” and he turned to go. 

“Um, I, uh, I’m not usually this bold, but, uh, I was wondering if we could get together some time, for drinks or…or dinner.” She put her hands behind her back, which enhanced her bustline. He tried not to ogle. 

“Sure, that..that’d be great. Anytime.” 

“How about Saturday night?” she asked eagerly. 

“Well, uh, this Saturday I have plans, but um…” He stopped and thought a moment. “You know, my plans are for early in the evening, why don’t we try and get together for drinks about 9:00. If you don’t mind waiting that long, I mean.” 

“No, that would fine. Nine o’clock, then. My name is Elizabeth Moody. I’m in apartment 1406. I’ll be expecting you.” 

“Walter Skinner, and I’ll see you then.” He waved at her as he entered the elevator. 

She smiled at the prospect of seeing him again, and jumped into the pool, swimming her usual fifty laps with a happy heart. 

And now here he sat on Thursday evening, at his desk wondering how he was going to get through the next couple of days. Mulder had finally called and left a message that the dinner was going to be at ‘Diamante’, an Italian restaurant close to the Hoover Building So, he had to put on a happy face tomorrow night for that, then again on Saturday for the wedding. 

On top of that, now he had a date with a woman he just met. What possessed him to agree to meet her was a mystery even Reyes and Doggett might not be able to figure out. Or maybe they could. All that talk about him not finding a woman on his own, his age, and his acknowledged lack of spontaneity had driven him to accept the advances of the first woman he offered. Add to the fact that the only woman he cared about was getting married and the mystery was solved. 

Now all he had to do was figure out how to get out of it. 

Skinner arrived at the restaurant after the others were all ready seated. The hostess took him to their table and he was greeted with applause led by Mulder. 
“At last, the best man,” the younger man said with a smile. “I thought we might have to send out a search party to find you. Or worse, that you had become an X-File.” 

Skinner smiled, “Sorry, the Bureau just wouldn’t let go. It didn’t seem to understand that I had more important things to do than read reports, chastise agents, and sign unbelievably outrageous expense reports.” He looked meaningfully at Agents Reyes and Doggett. 

“I explained about the Hummer, sir,” said Doggett, throwing his hands up in defense. “It was the only vehicle available at the rental agency and…” 

“And you just couldn’t wait to get your hands on one, I know, I know,” laughed Skinner. “Once a Marine, always a Marine. By the way, I forgot to ask, how did it drive?” 

“Like a dream, sir, like a dream.” 

Everyone laughed and Skinner went to stand behind Scully’s chair. He handed her a brightly colored gift bag before leaning down to kiss her cheek. 

“Congratulations,” he said. “I haven’t had a chance to say it in person, but…” 

“You’ve been busy, I know,” she said as she reached up and put her hand behind his neck to draw his face closer. She kissed him lightly on the lips. Skinner could feel his face redden as she let go and he straightened. He looked up to see Monica Reyes watching him closely. 

“What’s this?” Dana asked as she started to open the bag. “Not another gift? You shouldn’t have, especially after giving us that wonderful cruise!” 

“No, no, Dana,” called Monica, “not now. You can open it later with the others.” 

Skinner noticed then that there were several bags surrounding her chair. He had been hesitant about bringing anything, but was not relieved that he had. 

The only chair available for him at the round table was between Mrs. Scully and Doggett, and after greeting Scully’s mom, he sat down and turned to speak to Doggett. He noticed that underneath the tablecloth, Doggett and Reyes were holding hands. 

He clapped Doggett on the shoulder and looked over his head at Reyes, raising one eyebrow. She smiled slightly and wiggled her own back at him. Progress was obviously being made. If things didn’t reach the boiling point tomorrow night, he’d have to have a serious talk with the man. 

The next several hours were a constant parade of food and wine that fueled the laughter that seemed to erupt at regular intervals. Stories were shared about the soon-to-be newlyweds, most of which told to cast some doubt on the mental capabilities of both. 

“The worse, the absolute worst case,” said Scully as she wiped tears from her eyes, “was when the laboratory with all the animal dung blew up. I’m standing there, sh*t literally dripping from my hair, and that…scientist, named BAMBI, of all things, is looking like she’d just stepped out of a LL Bean catalogue. And what does my illustrious partner say to me? ‘Scully, you smell bad.’ I was ready to make him eat some of that crap.” 

Mulder tried to look innocent as the others laughed. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault the only entomologist available was built like a brick….” 

“Don’t say it, Mulder, or I’ll pin you to that chair with a butter knife,” threatened Scully. 

“I don’t know,” said Skinner, shaking his head, “I thought the worse case was the one in Texas with the vampire. At least from my point of view. I have had to sit through some interesting debriefings, but that one was the topper. I mean, the only excuse you could come up with for losing what seemed to be a whole town of vampires was that you were drugged. And your versions of that whole story, were needless to say, imaginative.” 

“Well, I was!” exclaimed Scully. 

“Nah,” sneered Mulder, “you were smitten by that cowboy sheriff with the buck teeth.” 

“He did not have buck teeth,” she retorted. “And he was gorgeous,” she said with a wink towards Monica. “Tall, lean, and the laziest drawl I’ve heard in a long time. Gave me goose bumps to listen to him.” 

“Hmm, maybe we need to go to Texas and follow up,” said Monica. “Hopefully we can locate this good-looking neck-biter.” 

“Not on your life!” exclaimed Doggett. “If you want your neck bitten, you can stay right here in Washington and…” His voice trailed off as the others shouted with laughter. “I…I mean…” 

“Is that a promise or a threat, Agent Doggett?” asked Skinner. 

“I didn’t…I only meant…I…I…” he stammered. He finally gave up trying to explain and merely shrugged helplessly. 

“Don’t worry, John,” said Monica with a sigh, “I know what you mean. I’m sure Washington is just full of vampires willing to bite me.” 

“But not before tomorrow,” warned Scully. “No hickies for the wedding pictures, please.” 

As desert was being served, Mulder tapped on his wineglass with a knife. 
“Okay, time for formalities, please. Scully and I want to give you two your gifts before we get too drunk to remember that we have them. So, Scully, if you please, would you do the honors?” 

Scully nodded and stood up. She reached down and took a small bag and placed it in front of her. 

“Um, I…we wanted to get you both something that you could keep as a remembrance for this rather auspicious occasion. We…’I’ thought long and hard about what to get, and sadly I couldn’t come up with anything original. So, please accept these rather ordinary gifts, but know they come with all our love.” 

She took a small silver-wrapped package from the bag and went around to table to hand it to Monica. Monica stood up and the two women embraced. 

“Thank you for being there when I needed you most,” Scully said with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for bringing our son into the world. You’ll always be his godmother in my heart.” 

Monica hugged Scully tightly as tears started to trickle from her own eyes. The two women stepped back from each other with shaky smiles. Monica sat down and John pulled her chair closer to his. He put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze as she unwrapped the package. It was a small velvet jeweler’s box and she gasped when she opened it. Inside was a solitaire diamond pendant on a long silver chain. 

“Oh my God, Dana, it’s…it’s beautiful!” she said as she removed the necklace. She started to put it around her neck, turning slightly so John could fasten the clasp. 

“It’s so lovely,” Monica said softly as she tenderly touched the diamond. “Thank you.” 

“And now, for the Skinman,” said Mulder as he held Scully’s chair for her to sit. “Uh, I don’t know what to say, actually. For one thing, I’m not sure what’s in the box. I let Scully choose the gift because she said my taste is so bad. I thought you’d like a set of tapes on sports bloopers, but she put her foot down. Anyway, um, whatever it is that she got, I’m sure that it can’t begin to express how much your friendship has meant to us over the years. You’ve stood by us through some of the darkest moments of our lives, and for that we are both eternally grateful. 

“There’s a quote by James Boswell that probably sums up our feelings better than I ever can. ‘We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over.’ Thank you, Walter, for all the kindnesses you’ve shown us, and thank you for being our friend.” 

Mulder walked over to Skinner who stood as he approached. The two men also embraced, clapping each other on the back as men at embarrassing moment are wont to do. Mulder gave Skinner his gift, then went to sit again beside Scully. Skinner removed the paper to find a jeweler’s box similar to Monica’s. 

“A necklace?” he asked. 

“No!” laughed Scully. “Open it!” 

He slowly opened the box and found a sterling silver money clip with his initials ‘WSS’ in raised gold letters. He took the clip out and turned it over. 

“’L’Amitie Est l’Amour sans Ailes’ ‘Friendship is love without his wings’ Lord Byron,” he read aloud. He looked over at Scully and she held his gaze for a moment before looking down at her hands. 

“Thank you,” he said as his eyes quickly went to Mulder’s smiling face. “I’ll treasure this as much as I do your friendship.” 

“Okay,” said Mulder as he cleared his throat, “enough of the serious stuff. Let’s get to the gifts.” He reached under the table and brought a white embossed gift bag. 
“This is from John,” he said as he read the tag. He handed the bag to Scully and she dug through the tissue paper and pulled out a flat plastic box. She unsnapped the fasteners and stared down at the contents. 

“It’s a home repair kit,” said John with a grin. “That’s for you, Dana. Keep looking in the bag. The book is for Mulder.” 

Scully gave Doggett a sardonic look and pulled the book from the bag. “’Home Repairs for Dummies’. Very appropriate, John. Thanks, I think.” She opened the front cover, “Oh look, he’s inscribed something. ‘May you never have to open this book and may the tools rust from lack of use. And hopefully the only thing you’ll ever have to fix is a cup of tea. Love, John’. How sweet!” 

“So THAT’S the reason you wanted to know what I was giving them!” exclaimed Monica. “Well, you might as well open mine next, I guess.” 

Scully smiled broadly as she picked up a plum colored bag. “Plum seems to be all the rage this year,” she laughed. “It’s making a big splash everywhere.” 

“I certainly hope so,” said Monica as she saluted Scully with her wineglass. 

Scully reached into the bag and carefully removed a ceramic teapot. It was bone white with faded pink and lavender peonies circling the top. “Oh, my God, Monica, it’s beautiful! It…it looks really old.” 

“It is,” Monica replied. “I saw it in an antique store window and I couldn’t resist. I thought you two might enjoy drinking tea steeped in an old English pot.” 

“It’s wonderful, thank you! It’ll have a place of honor in our kitchen.” 

“Um, there’s something else in there,” said Monica. “It’s silly, but well, I thought Mulder might get a charge out of it.” 

Scully moved the tissue paper around in the bag until she found a flat package wrapped separately. She handed it to Mulder and he torn open the paper. They both burst out laughing and he held up the gift. 

“Where the hell did you find this?” he asked as he showed the others a tea cozy in the shape of an alien’s head, complete with big black eyes. 

“On line, naturally. You’d be surprised what’s for sell on the Internet,” she shrugged. 

The tea cozy made the round of the table while Scully opened another gift bag. 

“Oh, my God! Mother!” Scully blushed as red as her hair as she shoved the contents back into the back. 

“What? Don’t you like it? I thought you might like something special to wear on your wedding night,” said Margaret Scully with an evil grin on her face. 

“This doesn’t constitute wearing apparel, Mom. There’s not enough of it to constitute…anything,” 

“What is it?” asked Mulder, reaching inside the bag. He pulled out what appeared to the others as a piece of silky cheesecloth. Only cheesecloth was probably thicker. It was a tiny white nightgown with a pair of thong panties. “Whoa, Margaret, I like your style.” 

“I’d freeze in that thing!” laughed Scully. “I wouldn’t get any sleep just trying to keep warm.” 

“It’s not for sleeping, silly,” said Margaret. “And the whole point is NOT to sleep.” 

“Mother!” 

“Oh, please, Dana, grow up! You act like I’m not supposed to know you two have sex,” teased Margaret. “Oh, and I put something else in the bag, too. Keep looking.” 

Scully rummaged around again and finally located a small glass jar. She read the label out loud. 

“’Chocolate Flavored…’oh my God!” She closed her eyes and handed the jar to Mulder. 

“’Chocolate Flavored Body Paint. Put it on and find new ways to get it off.’ Damn, Margaret, have you been visiting some of my old hangouts?” 

“I hope not!” laughed Scully. “I’d hate to have to get her out of jail for patronizing some of those sleazy places. I can’t believe my own mother would give me such…such suggestive things. Besides, I don’t think Mulder likes chocolate. Do you?” she asked as she took the jar from his hand. 

“Oh, please, everyone likes chocolate,” scoffed Margaret. “Right, Walter?” She turned to the man sitting beside her. He was examining the alien tea cozy closely. 

“Hmm? What? Chocolate? Yeah, I love chocolate. I’ll eat it on anything. My favorite though is chocolate covered cherries.” 

He looked up from the tea cozy when he realized that the table had grown very quiet. 

“What?” 

The others burst out laughing and Mulder tossed him the jar of body paint. 

“Then you’ll probably appreciate this more than me.” 

Skinner caught the jar and turned it over to read the label. He blushed as brightly as Scully had. 

“Oh, uh, no…no thanks,” he stammered as he tossed the jar back to Mulder as quickly as he could. “I’m…I…don’t…I…” He swallowed noisely. “Oh, hell.” 

“It’s okay, Walter, I’ll use it and let you know how it works,” teased Mulder. 

“Like hell you will,” said Scully slapping in the stomach with the back of her hand. “Okay, last package. This one is from AD Skinner.” 

“Actually, no it’s not,” Skinner said. “It’s from Arlene. She wanted to get you something, and she designated me as present-bearer. I have no clue as to what it is, but I’m praying desperately it’s nothing embarrassing.” 

Scully smiled sympathetically at him as she pulled out an extra large navy blue wool afghan. 

“Oh, how sweet! Look the card says it’s big enough for two for those cold winter nights. Hope you enjoy it, love Arlene. Aww, that’s so thoughtful of her.” 

And with that, the party began to break up. Mulder went to pay the bill, while Scully and her mother began to gather the bags. 
“I need to make sure Mulder doesn’t break anything when he takes these back to my place,” said Scully to Skinner as he helped her carry the bags to the entrance of the restaurant. 

“Aren’t you going back with him?” he asked. 

“No, I’m staying with Mother tonight. I have a lot to do in the morning, and we need to start early. Mulder drove us over here, but she and I will take a cab back.” 

“Night, Dana,” said Monica as she came up and hugged Scully. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Good night, Monica, thanks so much for coming. Be careful going home, all right? I’m gonna need my maid of honor in one piece tomorrow.” Scully hugged Monica tightly. 

“Uh, I came here with John and he’s driving me home,” said Monica with an innocent look. 

“Yeah,” said John as he reached down to kiss Scully’s cheek, “I want to make sure she doesn’t get picked up by any unsavory assistant directors.” 

“How did you know…?” Monica giggled slightly. “Have you been spying on me, Agent Doggett?” 

“Nope, it was purely accidental. I was kind of suspicious…” 

“…kind of?” she scoffed 

“…suspicious when you told me you went shopping with a friend. But then I thought, nah, AD Skinner wouldn’t be so dumb as to fall for a female agent.” 

“Thanks, Agent Doggett, I think,” drawled Skinner. He carefully looked around the restaurant, avoiding both Monica’s and Scully’s eyes. 

“Just for that, Agent Doggett,” said Monica sternly, “you’re going to have to provide me with a cup of coffee. Come on, let’s get out of here.” She reached for his hand and pulled him out the door. 

Scully and Skinner watched as the couple walked down the street towards his pick-up truck. Halfway there, Doggett dropped her hand and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. Skinner and Scully smiled at each other. Things seemed to finally moving ahead for the two of them. 

“Okay, the bill’s taken care of,” said Mulder as he came up behind the little group at the door. “Margaret, make sure she gets some sleep, okay? The last thing I want is an irritable bride tomorrow. I’ve already called for a cab and it should be here shortly.” 

“Why…why don’t I take the ladies home?” asked Skinner. “That way you’ll know they got home safely. That is, if you trust me.” 

“Why the hell wouldn’t I trust you? Sure, that sounds like a great idea, if the ladies are amenable.” Mulder looked at Scully, “Is it okay if he drives you home?” 

“Absolutely, right, Mom?” 

Her mother nodded in agreement, and they all walked out towards their respective vehicles. 

“Mulder, you be careful with that teapot or I’ll skin you alive,” warned Scully. “That thing probably cost her an arm and a leg.” 

“Yes, boss,” he teased as he put the bags carefully into the back seat of his car. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said as he brushed her cheek with his fingertips. “Sleep well.” 

“You, too,” she said giving him a warm soft smile. “Oh, don’t show up until about 3:30, okay? We’ll be busy and I don’t want you to see me before the ceremony.” 

“Why not?” he laughed. 

“It’s bad luck,” she said. “Now, go. Be careful.” 

“Take care of my lady,” he said to Skinner as he slapped him on the back. He got into his car and drove off.

Margaret Scully said good night as soon as they arrived at her house. Scully offered to show Skinner the setting for the ceremony in the backyard. She flipped on the lights and they strolled around the lawn 
“It’s not really much of a setting,” she said. “We’re going to stand underneath those trees in front of a couple of large sprays of mixed flowers. Father Hue will be here,” she stood in the designated place. “Monica, me, Mulder, you,” she pointed to their assigned spots, “and the others will form a kind of semi-circle behind us. That’s it,” she shrugged. “We’re having a buffet instead of a formal dinner because all of this is such short notice.” She reached up and plucked a yellow leaf from the tree. 

“It’s going to be very nice,” Skinner said, clasping his hands behind his back. “Um, but, what if…what if the weather doesn’t cooperate. You know how it is, if you don’t like the weather, wait a couple of minutes and it’ll change.” 

“Ah-ha,” she said, pointing her finger back towards the house, “we have a contingency plan. In front of the fireplace. It’ll be a little more crowded, but that’ll only make it more intimate, don’t you think?” 

“That it will. Well, it sounds like you’ve got everything pretty well in hand,” he said as he started to walk back towards the house. “You don’t seem nervous at all.” 

“About what? The wedding? Or the marriage?” 

“Both.” 

Scully shrugged, “Well, the whole wedding planning thing has been a bit nerve-wracking, and I can only hope and pray things go off like I want them. So, yeah, I may be a little nervous about that. But as for getting married,” she shrugged again, “not really. Mulder’s been my best friend for years, he’s stood by me during my illness, the deaths of Melissa and Emily, and I know I can count on him at any time. He’s safety and security, and I feel like I’m finally coming home.” 

“I think that’s what we’re all looking for, someone who makes us feel safe. Although, with everything you and Mulder have been through I wouldn’t exactly say it’s been placid.” 

“Oh, I think those days are behind us now. He’s…he’s more settled since he returned. I doubt seriously there’ll be too many times when he’ll go chasing after little green men. And I for one am glad. I’m ready to settle down and lead a normal life.” 

Skinner jammed his hands into his pants pockets, his heart heavy. “I…I guess I need to go. It’s late and you’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. Um, what time do you want me to show up?” 

“Three-thirty will be fine,” she said as they reached the back door. She flipped off the lights, plunging them into darkness, the only light filtering through the kitchen window. “I wanted to thank you again for the wonderful gift. It goes without saying how much we appreciate it.” 

For one brief moment he thought about taking her in his arms and kissing her, but knew she would think he’d lost his mind. So, he followed her as she led him into the kitchen and towards the front door. Same old Walter, he thought to himself. Another missed opportunity. 

Instead of opening the front door immediately, she placed her hand on his arm. “In case I don’t get to say it tomorrow, I just wanted to tell you how dear your are to me. Thank you again for being such a good friend.” 

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the lips. Everything seemed to slow down as he brought up one hand to cradle her face. Their faces were inches apart as she looked into his eyes to see something there that she’d never seen before. Or maybe she’d just never looked for it. But he couldn’t hide the love he felt, and he lowered his head to kiss her again. 

She’sgonnakillme, she’sgonnakillme, his brain repeated over and over. His heart was racing, but it went into overdrive when she surprised him by parting her lips and returning his kiss. He thought he was going to pass out as he forgot to breathe; he clasped her head between his two hands and she circled his waist with her arms. 

Omigodomigodomigodomigod, whatamIdoingwhatamIdoing,whatamIdoing? Somewhere in her deep subconscious she knew she had to put a stop to this madness, but she couldn’t. She wanted it to go on and on; she wanted to stay in his arms forever, hold him and be held by him. But she couldn’t, she was going to be married in a few hours to Mulder, a man she’d loved for more years than she could remember. She wanted to stop kissing this man; she needed to stop for Mulder’s sake. But she couldn’t, the flame that had been lighted by him was burning too strong. 

Mulder also crossed Skinner’s mind; his last words telling him to take care of his lady. So, reluctantly he lifted his lips from hers, wiping them with his thumb. She whimpered softly, then slowly opened her eyes. His own sparkled with such love and sadness that she felt her heart begin to break. How long? How long had he felt this way and not said anything? She started to ask him, but he quickly shuttered his look, turned and left her standing alone in the entrance.

“So, uh, you’re sure you don’t want to stop for coffee?” asked John as he pulled up in front of Monica’s apartment building. 
“No, not really. I was just teasing back at the restaurant. Coffee at this hour would keep me awake all night and I need to get my beauty sleep if I’m going to look worth anything for tomorrow.” 

“Aw, that’s not true,” said John as he looked over at her. “You’re beautiful enough as it is. After all, it’s hard to add perfection to a rose.” 

She stared at him with her mouth slightly open. “Why..why thank you, John! I’ve…I’ve never been so flattered.” She started to unfasten her seatbelt, “But I really do need to go inside.” 

“Wait!” he said, reaching out to grab her arm before she could open her door. “I…can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure. Just don’t expect an answer.” 

“I’ll take my chances. Um, why DID you go shopping with AD Skinner instead of Scully, or any…anyone else?” 

She debated for a moment whether to answer him. “I wanted his opinion on buying the dress I’m wearing for the wedding. Specifically, I wanted a man’s opinion.” 

“Why? What’s so special about buying a dress?” He looked straight ahead, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel, his thumbs lightly drumming. 

“I want to impress someone and I figured he would be a good judge of what would be suitable.” 

“Who…who are you trying to impress? And why didn’t you ask me? I might have been able to give you some advice. Maybe not as good as AD Skinner, but still...” 

“Because,” she said softly, “you’re the person I’m trying to impress.” 

“You don’t have to do anything special to impress me, Monica. I all ready think you’re special.” He turned his head to look at her. 

“As your partner, maybe. But I wanted something that would make you see me as Monica Reyes, a woman that you would find exciting, desirable…sexy.” 

“What makes you think I don’t find you that way now?” He unfastened his seat belt and put his arm along the back of the seat, sliding slowly towards her. 

“You’ve never acted as if you’ve thought of me as anything but your partner and friend. I just thought…” 

“You thought wrong,” he said as he brought his face close to hers. “I find you extremely exciting,” he kissed her lips lightly, “desirable,” another kiss, “and very, very sexy.” This time he kissed her teeth as she smiled broadly. “Hey! Cooperate, Agent Reyes, or I might…” 

The rest of his words were muffled as she quickly returned his kiss. There was silence in the truck for the next few minutes, save for the soft sounds of kisses being exchanged and heavy breathing. Finally, though, the need for oxygen made them stop. 

“Oh, John!” she gasped as he nibbled and kissed his way along her jaw, “what took us so long?” 

“I didn’t think YOU were interested,” he muttered as he slid his fingers inside the top of her turtleneck sweater. He pulled it away from her skin in order to kiss her neck. “I didn’t want to make a fool of myself if it turned out I was the only one who wanted to pursue something more…intimate.” 

“We’re supposed to be such good investigators, and yet neither of us could see what was right in front of us,” she laughed. “John,” she said taking his face in her hands, “come upstairs with me.” She traced the outline of his lips with her fingertips. “Please.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked breathlessly. 

She took on his hands and placed it on top of her sweater so that he could hold the soft inviting mound of her breast. 

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips. 

“I thought you needed your beauty sleep,” he said as he teased her lips with his tongue. 

“I think Dana would want me to look happy, instead of rested.” 

“I’m parked illegally.” 

“You can come back down later and move it. John, do you want to make love to me or not?” 

“Okay, let’s go.” 

They quickly separated and opened their respective doors. John laughed as he locked the truck. 

“What’s so funny?” she asked. 

“Look at the windows,” he said as he came around the front of the truck to take her hand. 

She burst out laughing. The windows were coated with condensation on the inside. 

On Saturday morning, four different people in three different parts of the Washington metropolitan area woke in four different moods. None of the four had gotten much sleep, and they had all spent the night wondering how their actions were going to influence their futures. 
In Crystal City, on the seventeenth floor of a high rise apartment building, Walter S. Skinner had spent most of the night pacing. Countless times he had replayed that momentous kiss in his mind. What the hell had he been thinking? He’d just ruined his friendship with two people he cared about deeply. How could he face them today, on THEIR wedding day? What kind of monster was he? How could he do such a thing to her? Maybe he should call Mulder and tell him he couldn’t be best man? That seemed the logical thing to do. He even picked up the phone several times to call, but hung up each time. Mulder was sure to ask him why, and what was he going to say? Well, old man, it’s because I love the woman you’re marrying and I kissed her. But not just any kiss, a kiss that I would have continued forever. And believe me, chum, I wouldn’t have stopped at kissing her. If I could have, I would have stripped her naked and made love to her right there in her mother’s front door. And by the time I finished, she wouldn’t have even remembered your name. 

Oh, Walter, he thought, that’s the way to play it, honest and up-front the whole way. Not only would he never speak to you again, you’d be lucky he didn’t shoot you. And Scully, what must she think of him? For him to almost assault her, kiss her when she least expected or wanted it. Skinner would stop pacing then, and relive the kiss. She hadn’t resisted him, not at all. In fact, and here is where his heart would rise in his chest; in plain actual fact, she kissed him back. And not out of polite embarrassment at being caught unawares by her boss, but with what he could almost label as…okay maybe not love, but something much, much more than friendship. There was passion there, and desire, and… 

At this point he would stop and try to recapture every nuance of their kiss. The way she smelled, the way her arms felt around him, her taste, her tongue as it played with his, the softness of her hair as he held her head between his hands and her skin, her smooth flawless skin that had reddened around her mouth with the rasping of his five o’clock shadow, the way her body had molded to his as she had pressed…. 

Stop! Stop! Stop! He had to erase all that from his memory, he could not dwell on what happened any longer. He had to remember that she was about to marry Mulder, a man she’d been in love with for years. Someone she said she felt safe with, although how she could feel safe with a man who was prone to taking off to chase the unknown at the drop of a hat he had not idea. So, get over it, Walter, she’s finally realizing her dream, now be happy for her. 

But then a niggling little thought would…well, niggle it’s way into his brain. If she’s really making her dream come true, then why did she kiss him back? Why hadn’t she resisted, pulled away, slapped him silly? It couldn’t have been because she felt anything for him. She couldn’t, right? I mean, she’d never once exhibited any interest in him, ever. Oh sure, she’d taken care of him when he’d been injured but that was not anything she wouldn’t have done for anyone else. It had to be something other than affection. It had to be… 

It had to be the wine. That was the only conclusion he could come up with. She’d a little too much wine, her inhibitions were well, uninhibited, and she thought it would be a lark to kiss some guy other than the man she was going to marry. That was it. That HAD to be it. What other explanation could there be? 

Across the city, near Georgetown, Dana Scully paced first the guest bedroom in her mother’s house, then the back porch, and finally the living room. She couldn’t believe what happened. She couldn’t believe she had…ALLOWED that man to kiss her. She couldn’t believe that she… 
She’d paced back and forth in the flowered bedroom, rubbing her forehead, trying to decide whom to be angry with. How DARE he do such a…a thing on the eve of her wedding! To…to BLATANTLY assault her and…and to…to… 

She sighed. But then again, maybe she’d unconsciously provoked him. After all, she did kiss him first. Granted, hers was more of a thank you very much type of…of friendly kiss, and…and obviously he took it as…as tacit approval for him to…to kiss her back with such…passion and..and… 

She stopped pacing and put her hands to her face, much as he had. She closed her eyes to recapture the way his fingertips had brushed her face, how his body felt taut and well-muscled when she’d put her arms around him, the pressure of his lips on hers, the gentleness of his kiss that became more intense when she had opened her mouth in response, the way his heart had had started to pound against her breast as he realized she wasn’t going to…. 

Stop! Stop! Stop! She angrily rubbed her head, pulling fiercely on her hair. She had to stop thinking about what happened! She had to focus on…focus on what was going to take place in a few hours. She was going to marry the man she loved. She had loved Mulder for as long as she’d known him. And he loved her. They had a child together; a child they had both loved enough to give up in order to protect him. They were about to start a new phase of their lives, and nothing, nobody was about to interfere. 

At this point she desperately wanted a cigarette. Extreme stress always seemed to do that to her. She sneaked out of her bedroom (Jesus, you’d think she was fifteen again!) and stole down to the kitchen and checked the cabinet where she knew her mother kept a stash. Even though her mother pretended to dislike smoking, Scully knew that Margaret Scully also had a secret need for the smelly, awful tasting things when life dumped more one her than she could handle. 

She found a pack of Morley Lights and slipped one and a book of matches out of the drawer. She carefully opened the back door and went to sit under the tree where the wedding ceremony was to take place. Her fingers trembled as she tried to strike a match, dropping it when it flared. She signed in exasperation and struck another, this time successfully lighting the cigarette end. She inhaled the smoke deeply and held it for a moment, waiting for the rush to hit her brain. She exhaled slowly, then coughed as the nasty taste overpowered her taste buds. Yuck! Why the hell did she ever think this was cool in the first place? 

She sat on the cold grass and smoked several cigarettes. What was she going to do? What the hell did she mean, what was she going to do? She was going to marry Mulder, what else? One innocent kiss was not enough to call off a marriage. After all, Skinner didn’t mean anything by the kiss, right? Right? It…it was probably because they had consumed a fair amount of wine, and he was…he was a little tipsy. Okay, granted he seemed perfectly sober when they drove home, but still, he could have had enough to…to release his inhibitions and…and to…to… 

She thought about the look in his eyes just before she’d closed her own. Those brown eyes, magnified slightly by his glasses, held such…love that it was enough to make her weep. Was that why she had returned his kiss? Because she never seen that look in anyone’s eyes before, and she had wanted to experience a small part of that love? Or was it just the wine?

In a third part of the city, two people huddled under the blanket of the bed where they had already made love twice. 
“John, why are we under the covers?” 

“We’re hiding?” 

She could hear the smile in his voice. They lay facing each other, their legs tangled, their arms around each other’s body. 

“Uh-huh,” she said nodding her head. “And who are we hiding from?” 

“We’re hiding from the Indians.” 

“The Indians,” she said flatly. “The Cleveland Indians?” 

“No,” he laughed. “When I was a kid and I was getting ready to go to sleep at night, sometimes I’d pretend that I was a cowboy hiding from the marauding Indians. Remember that this was a long time before PC took over child’s play. Didn’t you ever play cowboys and Indians?” 

“No,” she said with a slight laugh. “I was raised in Mexico, remember? We didn’t play cowboys and Indians. WE played Mexicans and Texicans. We’d storm the Alamo and kill all the rebels. So, watch it, Gringo, or I just might have to subdue you, too.” 

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll be Davy Crockett planning an escape from the doomed mission. Let’s see, how am I going to do this? Here, I need a map.” He pushed her gently until she was lying on her back, and then he raised on one elbow and started to trace an escape route on her abdomen. 

“Hmm, we’re here,” he said as he circled her bellybutton with his index finger. “We need to decide which way we’re going to go when…” 

“IF,” she stressed with a grin. 

“…when we make good our escape. We could go north,” and he walked his fingers up her abdomen, “to the mountains…” 

“Those aren’t much in the way of mountains,” she said as his fingers gently caressed her breasts. “Besides, there are no mountains near San Antonio. Only hills.” 

“They’re big enough for our purposes,” he said. “See? There’s a nice pass right here. And according to my scouts, the natives are friendly. And the peaks are delectable.” He lowered his mouth to one mountain…uh, breast and gently kissed and teased the nipple. She put one hand behind his head and inhaled sharply as he raked his teeth carefully across the soft skin surrounding the now hardened nipple. 

“Um, where…where else can the revolutionaries go?” she asked. Her breath was coming in short pants and he lifted his head and kissed her lips. 

“Well, we could always go south,” and he slid his hand tantalizingly slowly down her abdomen. “I understand there’s a cave where we can hide.” 

“A…a cave?”, she gasped. “I don’t think there’s any cave…” 

“Don’t be so literal, Monica,” he whispered. “Anyway, this cave is surrounded by…” 

“Don’t say it!” she laughed. 

“…surrounded by brush,” he continued, “and it’s hidden by a kind of valley. The entrance is just about here…” 

She grabbed his hand just as his fingertips started to slide into the…entrance. Her heart was beating so rapidly she almost couldn’t speak. 

“John, I’ve got to be at Dana’s mom’s house in…” she poked her head out from under the covers and squinted at the clock on the bedside table, “…in three hours. So far, I’ve gotten no sleep. And granted, I would much rather stay here and…reconnoiter more escape routes, but I need to fulfill my maid of honor duties and I can’t do that if I’m exhausted from making love all night.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who keeps talking,” he teased. “I would have gladly fallen asleep after the first time, but you had to start talking dirty, and sorry, but being a man, that kind of thing just…” 

“John, I love you.” The words came out in a rush, and she held her breath, waiting to see if he would get up and leave, or stay and… 

“Are you sure?” he asked as he laced the fingers of the hand she’d captured with hers. 

“That’s not the answer I was expecting,” she whispered. 

“I just want to make sure you’re not just saying it because we’ve been making love and you’re trying to feel something that isn’t there just to keep from feeling guilty about…” 

“Do you know you talk in run-on sentences when you’re nervous?” She ran the fingers of her hand behind his head through his thick hair. 

“You’re avoiding the question.” 

She sat up and the blanket fell away from her body. She reached over and snapped on a lamp that crowded the clock on the bedside table. She kneeled on the bed and pulled on his arm until he was kneeling in front of her. They both squinted a moment with the brightness of the light. 

“John, look at me. I want you to see my face when I tell you this so you’ll know this isn’t some post-coital response. I love you. I have for…God I don’t even know how long. I’m not saying because I feel guilty about making love to you, and I’m not saying it because I’m all starry-eyed about the wedding today, nor am I saying it to elicit a response. In fact, I don’t really want you to say anything…” 

“I love you, too, Monica,” he said with a relieved grin. “God! I was so afraid that if I told you, you’d say something like, Jeez, that’s great John, but I’m just here for the fantastic sex!” He took her in his arms and kissed her until she…until they were both breathless. 

“I love you, Monica,” he repeated seriously. “I love you and I don’t think I can ever stop loving you.” He brushed her hair behind her ears. 

She reached towards the side of the bed and snapped off the lamp, then lay down and opened her arms. He stretched out beside her and they held each other tightly. At last they fell asleep, secure in each other’s arms and their love. 

And so, four different people, in three different parts of the city woke up to a day that dawned gray and drizzly. Each one had experienced change over the night. One realized he had damaged a relationship that was precious to him; one realized she had been blind to a possibility that now would haunt her; and two realized that for good or ill their relationship had now gone forward to a new more intimate level and that there was no turning back. 

“Good morning, Monica,” said Mrs. Scully as she opened her front door. 
“Good morning, Mrs. Scully. How’s the blushing bride this morning?” Monica stepped into the front hall and looked towards the kitchen. She could smell coffee and she desperately needed a cup to help her wake up. 

It was 8:30 and she had barely made it on time. She had had to shoo John home in order to get herself ready. She’d thrown on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt and grabbed the dress and shoes and put them into a hanging bag before trying to negotiate the steps from her apartment building to her car. Rain was falling steadily, and she hadn’t wanted to slip. Once in her car she realized she had forgotten her make-up bag and ran back inside to get it. After negotiating the steps one more time, she’d just settled into the driver’s seat when her cell phone rang. It had been John. 

“Um, I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t been dreaming,” he said. 

“About what?” she asked as she started to pull out of her parking space. 

“About…last night. And…and us. And…” 

“I’m sorry, John, I don’t know what you mean. What was supposed to have happened last night? I don’t know about you, but I went home after the party and went straight to bed. I slept like a rock. Not a worry in the world. How about you?” She smiled and bit her lip. 

“Huh? What…what are you talking about? Don’t you remember…?” 

“The only thing I remember is a pesky little mosquito that kept buzzing around, biting me in the most annoying places.” 

“LITTLE mosquito?” he laughed as he began to play her game. “Not so little. At least, I’ve never heard any complaints.” 

“Some people are easily pleased,” she laughed. “I’m a little more…discerning. Look, my love, I’ve got to get to Dana’s and I’d like to arrive in one piece. I’ll talk to you later. And I’ll SEE you this afternoon.” 

“Okay, be careful. And uh, well, I, uh…” 

“I love you, too, John.” 

And now she stood in Mrs. Scully’s kitchen, a mug of black coffee warming her hands as she listened to the sounds of stomping overhead. 

“She’s been like that since she got up,” sighed Mrs. Scully. “I have no idea what’s wrong and she wont’ talk. I am assuming it’s just because she’s upset about the weather, but I thought we had already come up with a contingency plan, so I really don’t…” 

The doorbell interrupted her. 

“That’s probably the florist. They were going to come by and start setting up things in the yard, but now we need to…” her voice drifted away as she left the kitchen. 

“I’ll go upstairs and see what I can do to help Dana,” called Monica after the older woman. Mrs. Scully acknowledged her with a backward wave of her hand. 

Monica climbed the backstairs and found the room where Scully was stomping back and forth between the bed and a full-length mirror that hung on the closet door. She was trying to roll her hair check the weather at the same time. The look on her face stopped any greeting Monica was about to make. 

“Look at the God-damned weather, Monica! Look! It’s raining cats and dogs. I’m waiting to see if a large boat with a bunch of animals floats by. Look at the freakin’ backyard! Where are all the leaves that were going to be the backdrop for the ceremony? Where? I’ll tell you where! They’re becoming compost out on the grass! Every last one of them is on the motherfu….” 

“Calm down, Dana! My goodness, don’t get so upset! I thought you had made plans to have the ceremony in the living room if it rained.” 

“We did!” Scully exclaimed, “But still, I wanted it outside! I mean, I’m only getting married once and I would have liked for things to be as perfect as possible! Jesus!” She sat down hard on the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t we just get married in front of a justice of the peace? It would have been so much simpler. We could have just gotten married this weekend without telling anyone, then announced it on Monday. That way…” She clicked her tongue and shook her head slightly. 

“That way what?” asked Monica when Scully didn’t continue. 

“There would have been none of this hoop-la. It would have been a done deal, and there would have been no…surprises.” She wrinkled her forehead as she stared at her hands. 

“What hoop-la?” asked Monica with a laugh. “This is the smallest, most intimate wedding I’ve ever been involved with. It’s not like you’re getting married in the National Cathedral. It’s just us, your friends and family. Dana,” soothes Monica, “it’s going to be a wonderful wedding. It’ll be perfect no matter if it’s held outside or in front of a roaring fire in the living room. Then, you and Mulder will go off on a romantic cruise and…” 

Scully jumped, startling her friend. “That’s what I mean. All that…that gift giving, and..and…feeling obligated and…” 

“Obligated? To whom? Skinner? Why would you feel obligated to him? It’s a wedding gift, not a contract. He was just being very generous to people he cares about.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Scully was pacing the room again, wringing her hands. “I don’t know, Monica, I…I bet he’s just trying to make himself look good in front of all of you. He doesn’t really care about me…and Mulder. He’s just…” 

“What is wrong with you?” asked Monica as she stood in front of Scully to get her to stop moving. “Last night, you were thrilled about the cruise. You couldn’t thank Skinner enough. Now, it’s almost like you dislike him. What happened that suddenly changed your mind about him?” 

“Nothing! I…I just came to realize that he’s..he’s not as good a friend to us as I thought. He…he hides things, he doesn’t let anybody…” She sighed and looked around the bedroom. “How much do you really know about Skinner, Monica? Not very much,” answering for her friend. “He doesn’t open up to people, so who knows what he’s really thinking? He’s…he’s…” 

“Dana, what happened last night to change your opinion of Skinner?” asked Monica softly. 

“Nothing,” said Scully flatly. 

“Yes, something happened or you wouldn’t be so angry at a man who seems to have done nothing out of the ordinary. What happened? Did he…did he say something to you?” 

“No, oh God forbid he should say anything. The man has the tightest lips when it comes to talking I have ever met. That’s another thing, you never know what he’s thinking, because he never says anything. I mean, he could be a serial killer for all we know!” 

“Hardly,” said Monica reasonably. “Okay, if he didn’t say anything, then what did he do?” 

Monica could see that Scully was debating with herself whether or not to say anything. She was gritting her teeth and her eyes had taken on a far-away look. 

“Dana? What happened?” 

Scully looked at her friend quickly, her eyes bright with tears. “He kissed me. That sorry son-of-a-b*tch kissed me! And what’s worse?” Her anger was getting the best of her again and the tears threatened to fall. “What’s worse is that he meant it.” 

 “Wha…what do you mean, he meant it?” Monica’s insides tightened as she realized Skinner had acted on his feelings for Scully. 
“I mean, that…that low down snake in the grass kissed me like he and I were the only two people in the world. As if…as if he loved me.” 

“Maybe…maybe you’re just reading more into it than there actually was, Dana. I mean, you could have been mistaken, and he was just um, kissing you to wish you well. You know, new bride and all that.” Monica swallowed hard. “What did he say when you told him to stop?” 

Scully closed her eyes and two tears streaked down her cheeks. She mumbled and wiped her face. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, what did you say?” asked Monica. 

“I said, I…didn’t…um…tell…him…to…” 

“Oh, my God! Did you…?…You didn’t…?…Please tell me you didn’t…!” Monica clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, sh*t!” 

“I couldn’t help it,” she said with a sob. “He looked at me with such…” She gulped back another sob, “It just felt so…” 

“God! Don’t you dare say it! Don’t you dare say it felt right! Dana, you’re getting married in less than eight hours to a man you’ve been in love with for nine years. Even…even if you did kiss him back, it means nothing. You…you were just caught up in this whole wedding atmosphere and got a little carried away. You…you didn’t mean it, not really. And…and maybe you just misread his intentions. He…he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Mulder, you know that.” 

Scully dashed at the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I didn’t misread anything. Any woman can tell when a man kisses her how he feels about her. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be able to tell John’s feelings for you if he kissed you.” 

It was Monica’s turn to look around the room. Scully was right. Monica had known the instant John’s lips touched hers that he loved her, and it said it louder than any words he might have spoken. 

“What pisses me off,” continued Scully, “is that he waited until the last possible moment to give any indication of how he felt.” 

“Why?” asked Monica quickly. “Would it have made a difference? Would you have not accepted Mulder’s proposal if you had know beforehand how Skinner felt? I mean, you’re not in love with him, are you?” 

“N-n-no, of course not,” stammered Scully. “I would have still said yes to Mulder. And…and knowing how he feels isn’t going to change my mind about marrying Mulder now. I mean, I…I love Mulder, and…and this is a dream come true. It’s just that…well, I might have thought twice about accepting the cruise tickets, that’s all.” She went to stand by the window, watching as rain continued to fall softly outside. 

Monica watched her friend for a bit, then said softly, “Dana, don’t screw up your life over one kiss. The man isn’t going to die from a broken heart. You and Mulder have a whole new life ahead of you, grab the brass ring and go for it. You’re just feeling overwhelmed by everything and right now you may be having some doubts…” 

“I don’t doubt Mulder loves me, Monica,” said Scully as she turned around. “And I love him with all my heart. I’d never do anything to hurt him, I told you that.” 

“But?” asked Monica. 

“No buts. I’m marrying him, and we will finally have what we both have wanted for so long.” 

“What if Skinner decides otherwise? What if he does something to disrupt the ceremony?” 

“What…what do you mean? How would he…?” 

“You know, ‘If anyone knows why this couple shouldn’t be joined together, speak now or forever hold your peace’? What if he decides to speak?” 

“He wouldn’t dare!” exclaimed Scully. 

“Depends on how much he thinks he read into your kiss,” stated Monica. “Was there anything that might have led him to believe that you were returning his kiss with the same feelings that you think he was expressing?” 

Scully looked at Monica, uncertainty in her eyes. 

“What are you going to do if he does decide to speak up?” 

Scully sighed. “I guess I shoot him.” 

The rest of the morning was spent rearranging the living room and dining room to accommodate the ceremony and the buffet meal afterwards. By noon the florists and caterers had left with a promise by the caterers to return at 3:00. 
The rain continued with heavy showers interspersed with slow drizzle. Scully began to bemoan the fact that her hair was going to frizz into a clown’s wig with all the humidity. Monica volunteered to try and help subdue the red curls, and they retreated to Scully’s bedroom to see what could be accomplished. 

Scully sat on a vanity chair while Monica put her hair into large rollers to help control it. 

“I can’t thank you enough for all the help you’ve given me and my mother today,” said Scully. “And especially for letting me vent earlier. I think I would have exploded if I hadn’t got that off my chest.” 

“Hey, anytime I can help,” Monica pinned the last roller and gave Scully a hug from behind. “Look, Dana, I know we’ve only been close for a while, but you know that if you need to talk about…anything that I’m always available.” 

“I know, Monica, and thanks. I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me over the past couple of years. I feel as close to you as I did with…with my sister,” she said softly. 

“You miss her, don’t you? I mean, especially today. By all rights she should be here doing this. You know she’s here with you, Dana. She’s smiling down on you and wishing you only the best.” 

“I know, but that still doesn’t keep me from wishing she was here.” 

The two women sat in silence for a moment; Scully was imagining what her sister would think of all the hoop-la, no matter how reserved it was, and Monica was remembering her own sister’s wedding and the fun and fights they had while getting ready. 

Scully dabbed at her eyes and cleared her throat, “So, um, tell me, do you think the dress is going to impress John?” 

“I certainly hope so,” said Monica with a small smile. 

“Well, if it doesn’t,” said Scully, completely oblivious to Monica’s secretive look, “then the man is totally hopeless. 

“I’m prepared to make a long siege,” laughed Monica. “After all, it too the Mexican army more than one foray to defeat the defenders of the Alamo.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Nothing,” said Monica with another laugh. 

“Well, if you’re going to use siege mentality, then let me know when the walls have been breeched,” 

At 2:00 the women started getting dressed. At 3:00 the caterers arrived, as well as Bill Scully, Jr., his very pregnant wife and their two children, four-almost-five year old Matthew, and two-year-old Sarah. Margaret Scully gasped as her other son Charles came up the steps. She hugged him and started to call out to Scully, but he silenced her with a shush. 

“I want it to be a surprise,” he said. “Can’t let the squirt get married without my approval, now can I? I already know how Bill feels about this guy, so I think I need to judge for myself.” 

“I’m so glad you’re here, sweetie,” said Margaret as she hugged him again. “But where’s your family? Don’t tell me Belinda and the boys didn’t want to come?” 

“No, no. Jack is competing the in the state-wide science fair and he said as much as he would like to be here, this could mean between Stanford and Harvard. Imagine a sophomore in high school thinking that way! The kid is so much like Dana it’s not even funny. Anyway, Belinda had to stay home to drive him to the contest, and Bryan decided he wanted to accompany them so he could rag on his brother if he lost.” 

“Sounds like someone I used to know,” laughed Margaret. “Look, you boys stay down here and let the guests and the groom in while I check on Dana and her maid of honor. I’m so glad you’re here, Charlie.” She touched his face before climbing the stairs. 

At 3:30 Mulder and Skinner drove up at the same time. They dashed to the front door and arrived at the same time. 
“Whoa, nasty weather,” laughed Mulder. “I bet Scully’s fit to be tied.” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t doubt it,” said Skinner with a sickly smile. He had resigned himself to being genial for the duration of the day, but now facing Mulder he started to feel guilty again. 

“What’s wrong, Walter? You look a trifle peaked. You’re not coming down with something, are you?” Mulder rang the doorbell before entering. 

“No, nothing like that. I…I didn’t sleep well.” Skinner followed him into the front entrance. The same front entrance where 16 hours before he had made a complete fool of himself. 

“I did!” exclaimed Mulder. “I slept like a baby!” 

Charlie Scully came up to Mulder and Skinner and held out his hand. “Which of you is the bridegroom?” he asked. 

Turning to Mulder he said, “Wait, it must be you. Hmm, that’s funny, Bill said you were some kind of Svengali who has bewitched our sister, but personally, I don’t see it. But then, Bill always was rather humorless. He didn’t exactly understand anyone who thought outside the box. I’m Charlie Scully, and it looks like we’re about to become related.” 

Mulder shook Charlie’s hand, instantly liking him. He was completely opposite his brother, who disliked Mulder with a passion. Just then the doorbell rang again, and Charlie opened it to three rather wet individuals who definitely were outside the box. 

Byers, Langly and Frohike wiped their feet before stepping into the house. Each carried a gift and each was dressed in their own distinctive styles. Young Sarah Scully took one look at Frohike and let out a scream while Matthew asked his dad in a sotto voce, “Is that a stranger? I’m not supposed to talk to him, right?” 

Mulder laughed, “No one stranger! The kid’s got you pegged, Frohike.” 

“Humpf!’ muttered Frohike. “Ankle-biters!” 

The last to arrive was Father Hugh, and when he bustled into the house, he immediately took Skinner and Mulder into the living room to show them where to stand. 

At four o’clock everyone else followed them into the living room. At 4:01, Monica appeared at the entrance and the small gathering stopped talking. She smiled and walked towards the priest. She stood to his right and turned to watch as Scully and her mother made their way into the room. 

Scully and Margaret had paused for a moment at the door. Scully glanced to the side and her face was wreathed in a happy smile when she saw her brother. Then she looked forward and saw Mulder and Skinner standing side by side. Her eyes were drawn first to Skinner, who looked at her for a moment before dropping his gaze to the carpet. Her heart rocked for a moment at how handsome he looked, but she quickly shifted her own gaze to Mulder and smiled at him. He was standing there, a look of wonder and love on his face as she and Margaret moved forward. 

Margaret kissed her daughter, then stepped back to stand next to Charlie. He put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. The bridal party turned and faced the priest, Mulder and Scully holding hands. Father Hugh began to pray and everyone bowed his or her heads. 

“Please, God,” prayed Skinner silently, “let me get through this. She looks so beautiful and I wish it were I standing next to her. I know it’s wrong to be envious, but I would give anything…” 

He stole a glance at her and was once again his heart flip-flopped. Her dress was simple but elegant and it accented her fair complexion and red hair without making her look washed out. She had decided to wear a cream colored silk dress that skimmed her body lightly. It had long sleeves, a scoop neck and she wore no jewelry, save her little gold cross. Skinner listened as she spoke her vows and wished with all his heart that she were speaking them to him. 

Sometimes life seemed so unfair, he thought. It would have been so much easier to get through this if he hadn’t kissed her last night. Then, he would have stood here, pining for her, and assuming that she had no feelings for him whatsoever. But now, after the look of surprise in her eyes when he’d kissed her, and then her own response, he wondered if there wasn’t maybe some…small spark of love for him that she herself realized for the first time. 

Maybe he should say something. Maybe he should stop the ceremony and force her to acknowledge him and her feelings. Maybe… 

John had eyes for no one but Monica. Scully could have been standing there bare-butt naked and he wouldn’t have noticed. He mentally chastised himself for failing to notice how beautiful she was before this. No, that was not true. He’d recognized it before, but what he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge was his growing love for her. He had been afraid, afraid that she might not feel the same. And now, now that he knew, he had to struggle to keep the joy he felt in check. Otherwise, he would be announcing to the whole room that he was the happiest alive. Happier even than Mulder. Certainly happier than Skinner, who looked like he could use an antacid. 

Thw vows were said, the rings exchanged, and Father Hue looked out over the small gathering. 

“If any one knows why these two should not be joined in wedlock, let them speak now, or forever be silent.” 

Skinner swallowed and shuffled his feet. Scully stiffened beside Mulder and tried not to glance in the direction of the one person who could bring this to a screeching halt. 

“Well,” said a voice. 

“Shut up, Frohike,” muttered Mulder. 

“Just kidding,” said Frohike with a shrug. 

Everyone laughed and the priest continued with the ceremony. Scully smiled tightly, her face not revealing the little tiny germ of disappointment that had wormed its way into her heart. Father Hugh started another prayer and as she bowed her head, Scully glanced quickly at Skinner. His face revealed nothing, the only sign he wasn’t as calm as he appeared was a tiny twitch in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. 

At last the prayer ended, the final words were said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” and Mr. and Mrs. Fox William Mulder shared their first married kiss. 

“Break it up, you two,” laughed Charlie as the couple’s kiss lingered. He grabbed his sister into a bear hug and held out his hand to his brand new brother-in-law. Mulder’s face nearly split from smiling. 
One by one the rest moved forward to congratulate the new couple. Bill hugged his sister tight, then shook hands grudgingly with Mulder. Even the warning look in his eye was not enough to ruin Mulder’s joy. The new husband pulled the reluctant Bill into a hug, slapping him on the back. Bill quickly extricated himself and moved aside. As Tara congratulated Scully, Mulder looked around and called out to Doggett. 

“Hey, John, you’re supposed to kiss the bride, not the maid of honor!” Everyone turned to watch as Doggett blushed furiously and Monica lay her cheek alongside his. 

“I’ll get to her in a minute,” he said. 

“Not if you’re going to kiss her like that! As far as you’re concerned there is a ‘No Trespassing’ sign.” 

“Don’t worry,” laughed Doggett, “I’m perfectly happy on my side of the fence.” He tightened his arm and around Monica and she grinned at the surprised Scully. 

The new Mrs. Mulder held out her arms and embraced the couple. 

“Wow!” she laughed, “if I knew a dress would make that much difference, I’d’ve bought one like it a long time ago.” 

“The dress is only the icing on a beautiful cake,” responded John. 

“Oh, yeah? How do you know that?” laughed Mulder as he joined the little group. 

It was Monica’s turn to blush, and Scully clapped her hand over her mouth. 

“Last…?” she started. Monica raised one eyebrow. “And you didn’t tell me?” 

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, Dana, John and I…” 

“Hell, yeah!” laughed Scully again. 

“Not hardly! There are some things even ‘I’ am not willing to talk about.” 

“Hey, hey, hey!” interrupted Frohike. “Quit hogging the bride.” He shoved his way between the four of them and held out his arms to Scully. He kissed her on the lips with a resounding smack. “Best wishes, good lookin’. Although why you would want to hook up with a loser like him,” and he jerked his head in Mulder’s direction, “is beyond me. Especially when you got someone like me around.” 

“That’s exactly WHY she married him,” said Langly as he set aside the smaller man. H leaned over and gave Scully a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

“Oooh, a kiss from Dilbert. Not an every day occurrence,” smirked Frohike. “Somebody better mark this on a calendar somewhere.” 

“Quiet, Papa Smurf, or I’ll tell that kid’s mother you’re on John Walsh’s most wanted list,” said Langly. 

“Huh?” Frohike looked down and there stood Sarah Scully, her finger in her mouth, staring up at him. “Go ‘way kid, you bother me.” Sarah obviously thought this the height of humor, because she began to giggle. 

“Another conquest, Frohike?” asked Byers as he moved in to kiss Scully. “And one nearly your size." 

The caterers were now moving among the guests with glasses of champagne and the noise level began to increase. Skinner stood back and watched everyone, sipping slowly at his champagne. Mulder and Scully were in constant physical contact. Her hand would be on his arm, or they would be holding hands, or his arm would drape across her shoulders. Skinner’ heart grew heavier as the celebration continued, though his face betrayed no sign. 
Monica was watching him watch Scully, and finally excusing herself, went to stand beside him. She turned so her back was to the room and she spoke softly to him. 

“It’s hard, isn’t it, watching her start a new life?”” 

“I don’t know what you mean, Agent Reyes,” he muttered as he sipped from his glass. 

“I was actually afraid for a moment that you were going to say something and bring the whole she-bang to a screeching halt.” 

You don’t know how close I was, he thought. Aloud, though, he said, “I’d never do anything like that Agent Reyes. I’d never do anything to hurt her.” 

“How about Mulder? I don’t think it would cause you too much pain if he had somehow ended up the loser here today.” 

“Anything that hurts Mulder would hurt her. Again, I’d do nothing…” 

“Then you’d better get over there and congratulate them,” Monica said with a forceful smile. “Otherwise, he’s going to notice and wonder why the best man is avoiding them. And don’t forget the toast." 

“The…?” He shook his head in confusion. 

“The wedding toast? Here’s to the bride and groom, et cetera, et cetera? Best man always gives it.” 

He closed his eyes for a second; he’d forgotten that. Deciding there was no time like the present, he went to stand beside the newlyweds. 

“Congratulations, Mulder,” he said as he shook his hand. “You’re a very lucky man.” 

“I know that for a fact,” said Mulder as he reached out and stroked Scully’s face. She blushed slightly and smiled nervously. 

Skinner leaned forward to kiss Scully and her eyes widened. Her lips parted slightly, but instead of kissing her lips, he turned his head and kissed her cheek. For the second time that day she felt a flutter of disappointment. 

“Best wishes for a long and happy life, Agent Scully. Or maybe I should say, Mrs. Mulder.” He straightened up, his eyes avoiding hers. “Excuse me!” he called out and everyone looked around. 

“I would like to propose a toast to the bride and groom. We all here are happy that you two can now start on a life together…” 

“Humpf,” snorted Bill Scully softly. His wife jabbed him with her elbow. 

“…and hope that from here on out only the best of times come your way. To Mr. and Mrs. Fox Mulder.” Skinner lifted his glass in salute and everyone followed suite. 

“Hear, hear!” 

Charlie brought out a digital camera and started posing everyone for pictures. Skinner found the whole process excruciating, especially when Charlie asked that he, Scully and Mulder pose for a picture together. Mulder quickly agreed while Scully started to protest but stopped when she realized there was no way out. Skinner stood slightly apart from them, but Charlie insisted he move closer. 

“You look like you’re afraid Dana smells bad,” laughed Charlie. “I mean, granted she probably does, but still…” 

“Get closer, Walter,” said Mulder as he grabbed the older man by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him until he was right next to Scully. “Ready when you are, Charlie!” 

Eventually when the picture was shown to Charlie’s wife she asked, “What happened here?” 

“Why?” 

“Well, Dana looks like she’s not sure whether to laugh or cry, that tall man looks like he’s ready to spit lightning, and Fox seems to be the only one in the group who’s happy to be there.” 

“Hmm! Hadn’t noticed. Well, he was their boss for a while, maybe he’s just uncomfortable socializing with subordinates.” 

“Maybe,” muttered Belinda Scully, “but I don’t think so.” 

It was after seven o’clock when the small two-tiered wedding cake was finally and everyone had been served. Skinner had a pounding headache from trying to appear interested in what was being said to him. It was with a measure of relief when he heard Scully and Mulder announce they departure. There was another round of hugs and kisses and best wishes. When it was his turn, Skinner did not hesitate; he bent down and kissed her soundly on the cheek once again. 
“Have a good life, Dana,” he said. “I wish you all the best of what life has to offer. This is a new start and you shouldn’t let anything or anyone keep you from it.” 

“What about you?” she asked, worry creasing her brow. 

“I’m…I’m about to start a new life, too,” he said with a smile. 

“Walter, thanks for everything you’ve done for us,” said Mulder as he turned from hugging his mother-in-law. 

Skinner clasped hands with Mulder and looked him square in the eye. “Take good care of our girl,” he said. “Because if you don’t, I’ll come looking for you and I just might take her away.” He said it with a laugh, but Scully could detect an undercurrent of seriousness. 

“Don’t worry,” laughed Mulder, “I’m not about to let anything happen to her now. It’s taken me too long to get her.” 

The front door opened and a cold blast of air caught them all by surprise. The rain had stopped and the night sky was inky black with star shining like diamonds against velvet. Mulder and Scully ran to their car as their friends and family stood on the porch to watch them leave. Skinner was the first to turn away from the door and go back to the buffet table, where he looked down at the remains of the small wedding feast. 

“Are you all right, sir?” asked Monica. 

“Fine, Monica, I’m fine. So, what do you two have planned for the rest of the evening? With that magnificent looking dress, I hope you are planning on taking her dancing somewhere, John.” 

“Uh, well, actually, no sir. Um, we…we were planning on watching a movie.” 

“A movie? You’re kidding! Which one?” 

“Uh, ‘The Alamo’.” 

Monica choked on an olive she had just popped into her mouth. John looked as if he were telling his boss that he was about to board a plane for an assignment. 

“Not that old horse-opera with John Wayne?” asked Skinner incredulously. “That movie is the worse depiction of a historic event I’ve ever seen.” 

“Oh, I agree totally, sir,” said John. “Monica and I were discussing the siege last…the other day and she was explaining to me the Mexican army’s overview. There is definitely a difference of historical perspective and we thought we would continue our, um, discussion.” 

“That has to be the most boring idea for an evening I’ve ever heard,” chuckled Skinner. “But, to each his own. All I know is, I wouldn’t want to waste my time with a beautiful woman like Monica arguing international politics, even if it is over 175 years old.” 

“What about you, sir? Do you have anything planned?” John slipped his arm around Monica and Skinner once again felt an unbelievable sadness come over him. 

“Uh, yeah, I had some plans, but I think I’m going to have to change them. I’ve realized I’ve been putting off something and I need to take care of it tonight.” 

Monica suddenly felt afraid of what Skinner might have planned. “Uh, sir, why don’t you come with us and watch the movie?” 

John looked up in surprise, “Huh? Uh, Monica, I’m…I’m sure that if AD Skinner has something he needs to do he’d rather get it done without, um…” 

“It’s all right, Monica,” said Skinner, patting her arm. “Thank you for the invitation, but I do need to take care of some business. Please, go enjoy your movie. I’ll be fine.” 

“But…” She moved towards him and took his arm. “Are…are you sure?” 

“Yes,” he said with a smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do need to say good night to Mrs. Scully.” 

“Okay,” Monica said in a small voice. 

“Good night, sir, we’ll see you on Monday,” said John as the assistant director walked away. Skinner waved his hand at them as he moved into the living room to speak to Margaret Scully. 

“What was that about?” asked John as he helped Monica with her coat. “I thought…” 

“John, don’t…don’t you think AD Skinner seems a little, um, despondent? I’m not sure he should be alone…” 

“He’s probably just tired from the wedding. You’ve got to admit it’s been a strain for everyone. And he has just watched two people he cares about get married. Maybe it’s reminding him about his own failed marriage.” 

“What about you?” she asked, turning suddenly to face him. “Has this been a strain for you?” 

“I imagine it would have been if it wasn’t for one little thing.” He took her hand and smiled softly into her eyes. 

“What’s that?” she asked. 

“You,” he whispered as he kissed the palm of her hand. 

After making his escape from the Scully house, Skinner sat in his car for a moment. He picked up his cell phone and checked the directory for a number he seldom called. The manager to his building answered on the fourth ring. 

“Mr. McDermott,” he said. “This is Walter Skinner. Yes, I’m fine. Listen, I have a favor to ask. I need to get a message to one of the other tenants and I don’t have her phone number, and I was wondering if you could relay one for me. You can? Fine. Yes, her name is Elizabeth Moody. I believe she lives in apartment 1406. Yeah, I think she said she was a lawyer. Yes, she is attractive. Well, I need to let her know that unfortunately something as come up and I’ll need to cancel our plans. Yes, that’s true, Bureau work does come before anything. Can you let her know for me? Good. Oh, and one more thing. I’ll be moving out and I’d like for you to sell my apartment for me. No, no, it has nothing to do with the management. I’ve been perfectly happy there. No, I’m not moving any where local. I’m…I’m moving out of state. Um, and the furniture goes with it. No, where I’ll be I won’t need any of that stuff. I’ll be by very late tonight to get some of my clothes and things and then I’ll send someone by on Monday or Tuesday with the contract allowing you to sell it and take a commission. How about ten percent? Okay, sounds good. Thanks a lot, Mr. McDermott. Yes, I’ll be talking to you soon.” 

He disconnected the call and started his car. He drove in silence to the J. Edgar Hoover Building, parked his car, took the elevator to his office and went in to clean out his desk. 

The twelve days on board the cruise ship were, without a doubt, the most enjoyable Scully had experienced in a long, long time. She and Mulder enjoyed every amenable available; the massages at the spa, the shows at night, the tours in whatever port they were docked, the romantic walks on deck at midnight with the moon rising over the water. 
And there was a constant supply of food. Everywhere they turned they were offered something to eat. Scully feared she would gain fifteen pounds by the end of the trip, but Mulder insisted that all the lovemaking late at night would burn enough calories to keep the pounds off. She scoffed at the idea, but that didn’t stop her from participating vigorously. 

Their small suite was luxurious and after the first night she was able to enter it without feeling guilty about the kiss she had shared with Skinner. She had come to the conclusion that it had been the result of too much wine and bridal jitters. She had merely misread his intentions and overreacted. He was a dear friend and she had probably embarrassed the man by kissing him with more passion than he was expecting. No wonder he had been so reserved at the wedding; he was afraid she’d do something equally as foolish in front of Mulder and her family. 

Their last night on board they spent dining and dancing, then retreated to their cabin where he presented her with a small velvet jewelers’ box. She opened it to find a pair of diamond stud earrings. The diamonds must have weighed a half-carat apiece and were brilliant, catching the light of the room and sparkling like fire. 

“Oh, Mulder!” she gasped, “They’re…they are beautiful!” 

“I know you don’t like to wear rings because of your work, so I thought this was a better option than an engagement ring. You don’t think they’re…um…gaudy?” His smile was both pleased and worried. 

“No, I don’t,” she reassured him. She quickly removed the small gold loops she was wearing and put on the new ones. “How do they look?” 

He reached out and placed her hair behind her ears and touched the diamonds carefully. “Their brilliance is dimmed next to your beautiful face.” He tilted her head and kissed her. 

“I didn’t get you anything,” she whispered as his lips followed her jaw line. Her hands slowly unbuttoned his shirt so she could caress his chest. 

“I’ve got you, I don’t need anything else.” He started to unzip her dress but she stopped him. 

“Wait. You first. Take off your jacket,” she ordered as she went to turn off the lights in the room. The room was bathed in pale moonlight that streamed in from the porthole that looked out over the water. 

He smiled as he slowly took off his dinner jacket, then removed his tie. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and it followed his jacket onto the floor. He unbuckled his belt, but when he started to unzip his pants, she stopped him with her hands. She stroked him through the fabric of his clothes, then kneeled in front of him, her hands sliding down his legs. He held his breath until he realized she was untying his shoes and helping him to take them off 

His heart was pounding as she slowly straightened, once again running her hands along his legs to his groin where she could feel his erection increasing. She unzipped his pants and they fell to his ankle, followed by his boxers as she pushed them from his hips. He stepped out of them, kicking both items to the side of the room. She smiled at him and pressed her body close as she kissed him, the soft silky material of her dress against his skin igniting new fires in him. 

He tried to unzip her dress but she pushed him away and stepped back. She reached behind her and unzipped the dress, and let it slip to the floor. She now stood in front of him in only a pair of tiny translucent panties, barely big enough to be called underwear. She slowly removed them, then ran her hands over her body. Once again Mulder stopped breathing. 

The moonlight made her skin glow like a pearl, her nipples and areola as well as the patch of hair between her legs the only dark spots on her body. Mulder stepped closer to her and took her hands and placed them on his chest as his own took over the exploration of her body. She closed her eyes and gasped as he found her most intimate core. She swayed slightly when he took away his hands and picked her up. He carried her to their bed and for the rest of the long night they made love to the gentle thrum of the engines of the big ship that was all too quickly taking them back to their ordinary lives. 

Scully and Mulder were tan and rested after having spent twelve days on a cruise ship being pampered and treated like royalty. But life has a way of bringing you back to reality quickly. 
They had not even unpacked when Scully was called to Quantico to help with a backlog of autopsies, forensic slides to be reviewed and paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. And Mulder was immediately embroiled in a controversy at the Osterwald Foundation that had evolved over a paper he had submitted. He spent the next two weeks defending it, seeing little of Scully when he did make it home. She, too, was working late and arriving home too exhausted to do anything but say good night and go to sleep. Neither had any time or energy to try to contact their friends. 

Finally though, sometime after their first month of marriage had slipped by, things began to slow down and they were at last able to sit back and relax and try to catch up with all that had been going on outside their little hectic world. One bright crisp November morning, just before Thanksgiving, Scully and Mulder agreed to meet at the Hoover building for lunch and to see if they could snag Monica Reyes and John Doggett to join them. 

As they exited the elevator to the basement office that had been their home for seven years, they could hear raised voices. Scully looked at Mulder and grimaced slightly. 

“Maybe we should have called ahead,” she said. 

“Nah,” he shrugged, “it doesn’t sound like it’s anything bad. Probably just work related. They’ll appreciate the break.” He knocked lightly on the door and pushed it open slowly. 

Monica and John were standing toe to toe, glaring at each other. Monica was holding a wad of papers in one hand, her other hand clenched in a fist and resting on her hip. John had his arms crossed, his face registering polite disbelief. They both looked up away quickly when Mulder spoke. 

“Maybe we should come back after the battle,” he said as he stepped into the office. 

Immediately the tension in the room broke as Monica and John went forward to welcome their friends. After a round of hugs and kisses and inquiries into everyone’s health, Scully asked them if they would like to go to lunch. 

“That is, if you two are speaking to each other,” she teased. 

“Oh, please, this is work,” scoffed Monica. “You know how that goes. If we agreed on everything life would be….” 

“….boring,” laughed Scully. “Yes, I remember. For some reason this office is not conducive to like thinking. It seems it’s a prerequisite that the people who work in here are to be as completely opposite as possible.” 

“So, where do we go for lunch?”, asked Mulder, rubbing his hands together. “This is the first time in over a month that I’ve actually got time to sit down and enjoy a meal.” 

“Where ever you want,” said Doggett. “You’re buying, right? After all, Monica and I are but poor government employees…” 

“Yeah, right. I guess we could always eat in the cafeteria here,” said Mulder. “They’ll probably have turkey or something.” 

“NO!”, exclaimed both Monica and John. 

“Come on, I’ll treat,” said John. “I just can’t face cafeteria food today. But let’s drive over into Virginia and eat. It’s gonna be crowded where ever we go. Besides, I feel like eating barbecue.” 

“Break out the antacid,” muttered Monica. 

“Wait, why don’t we invite AD Skinner to join us?” said Mulder. “We haven’t heard from him since we got back and I think we ought to fill him in on how much we enjoyed his generous gift. Right, Scully?” 

She nodded, “Good idea, Mulder. I’ve been meaning to call him and thank him, but I’ve been so busy since…” She stopped when she saw Monica and John exchange glances. “What’s wrong?” 

“He’s…gone,” said Monica, shrugging one shoulder. 

“Oh, too bad,” said Mulder. “Well, we’ll have to take him out when he gets back.” 

“No, Mulder, he’s GONE..gone. He…he left the Bureau.” Monica glanced quickly over at Scul

“What do you mean, he left the Bureau?” she asked. “You mean he quit?” 
“No, he retired,” explained Doggett. 

“He’s not old enough to retire!” exclaimed Scully. She shook her head again. “He’s…he’s not old enough.” 

“He had been with the Bureau for over 25 years, Dana,” said Monica softly. “He was over 50, and I..I guess he decided he needed a change.” She watched her friend closely as she tried to understand what had happened. 

“When…when did this happen? HOW did it happen? I thought it took a while for all the paperwork to be completed. It’s only been a month since we saw him. I…I don’t…” Scully searched Monica’s face for answers as her heart turned over in her chest. 

“Evidently he started the paperwork about the same time you two got married. He’s actually taking the rest of his vacation time while everything is completed, which, from what Arlene tells me, should be sometime next week,” said John as he leaned against his desk. 

“So, Arlene’s talked to him? Did…did he tell her why he suddenly decided to retire?” Scully’s happy mood had departed. 

“Actually, no she hasn’t. She came in to work the Monday after you two left and found his desk clean. He’d left her a letter stating that he was leaving, what to do with the paperwork he had pending, and that she could forward all his mail to his personal attorney. If she had any questions, she contact the same attorney.” 

“Well, has anyone tried to call this guy?” Scully’s frustration was growing. 

“I did,” said Monica. “He said that Skinner had left instructions with him on where to send his things, that his apartment was for sale, and that Skinner could be reached only through him. When I tried to tell him that I was a friend and just wanted to make sure he was all right, the guy got defensive and said that if Skinner wanted to let us know anything, he’d contact us himself. Then, he basically threw me out of his office.” 

“That doesn’t sound like Skinner,” said Mulder. “He’s not known for making radical changes without a great deal of thought. I wonder what happened that made him suddenly decide to take such a major step. You don’t think he’s sick or anything?” 

Scully pressed her lips together and looked up at Monica, the question she was afraid to ask, in fact couldn’t ask in front of Mulder in her eyes. Monica lifted one shoulder slightly. 

“I don’t think he’s sick,” said John. “He seemed perfectly healthy at your wedding. Maybe he just got burned out.” 

“Then why not take a sabbatical?” snapped Scully. “He didn’t have to retire! He could have taken off as much time as he needed.” 

“I agree,” said Mulder. “There’s something else going on. It has to be an illness, or at least something so personal that he felt he needed to focus all his time and energy on it. I think we need to find him and just make sure he’s all right.” 

“Why don’t we just leave him alone?” said Monica. “He’s left for a reason; if he’s not wanting us to know why, then we should respect that.” She looked pointedly at Scully. 

Scully looked back at her, “He’s been our friend for a long time, Monica. He has always taken care of us when we needed him. I…we can’t just let him disappear from our lives without making sure he’s all right.” 

“I’ll get the Gunmen to start looking for him,” said Mulder. “Then Scully and I can go and check on him, if for nothing more than our own peace of mind. Right, Scully?” He put his arm around his wife’s waist. 

“Yes, yes we can, Mulder,” she said as she gave him a shaky smile. 

“Now, let’s go get some of that barbecue John’s wanting to treat us to,” he laughed. 

The four friends talked and laughed all through the meal. Scully and Mulder could see that John and Monica had grown as close as two people could. They constantly teased each other, their banter reminding the newly married couple of their own covert courtship. 

At last the two women excused themselves and went to the ladies room. As they washed their hands, Scully smiled at Monica. 

“You and John are pretty tight,” she said. “I’m glad. I was hoping things would work out between you two.” 

“Yeah, it’s…it’s been a wonderful time. He’s so…sweet. I sometimes have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.” 

“You’re not,” Scully reassured her. “He loves you, it’s obvious in the way he looks at you. And even a blind man could see you love him.” 

“Dana, leave Skinner alone.” Monica’s face was serious. 

Scully looked at her friend in the mirror. “I only want to make sure he’s all right, Monica. And to find out why he left.” 

“You know why he left. He’s in love with you and he couldn’t stay around and watch you live as someone else’s wife.” 

“He’s not in love with me.” 

“What about that kiss? You said yourself…” 

“I…I was just nervous before the wedding and I misunderstood his intentions. The kiss was just that…a kiss between friends. It meant nothing to him.” 

“What about you? Did it mean nothing to you?” 

“Monica,” sighed Scully, “I love Mulder. And only Mulder.” 

“I don’t doubt you love him, Dana. But I think you have feelings for Skinner, too. And that’s why I think you should just let Skinner go off and find a new life for himself. For his sake, and for Mulder’s. And for the sake of your marriage. Don’t let something that may be nothing more than an infatuation interfere with your marriage, Dana.” 

“I’m not!” exclaimed Dana. “I wouldn’t. But, he’s been our friend for so long, Monica, I can’t just let him leave without saying good-bye. I just want the opportunity to say good-bye.” 

The two women’s eyes were locked as they stared at each other in the mirror. Scully was the first to look away. Monica sighed. She knew her friend was determined to find Skinner, and that she was trying to convince herself it was for nothing more than their long-standing friendship. 

 “Don’t you guys visit at any other time besides midnight?” asked Scully sleepily as she opened the door to the apartment. 
“Sorry,” said Byers as he moved past her, “but we think we may have finally found something.” 

“Whatcha got to eat?” asked Langly as he entered. “I’m starved.” He headed towards her kitchen as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Nice Christmas tree, Scully. Anything under there for me?” 

“I’m making my list and checking it twice, Langly. So far I can’t tell whether you’ve been naughty or nice.” 

“We interrupting anything?” asked Frohike hopefully. He glanced around the apartment and called out, “Hey, Mulder! Get your pants on and come out here.” 

“He’s not here,” Scully said with a yawn. She tied the belt to her terry cloth robe and moved towards the sofa where she sat down with a plop. “What have you guys found?” 

“Uh, where is Mulder?” asked Byers. “We wanted to show both of you what we’ve uncovered.” 

“He’s still down at the Foundation, I guess. He called earlier and said he’d be late and not to wait up for him. I’ll show him what you’ve found when he comes home. That is, if you don’t think it’s too much for my fragile little brain,” she said sarcastically. 

“Oh, I think you’ll be able to wrap your pretty gray matter around this,” said Frohike. He pulled some neatly folded papers from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “After three weeks of extensive and intensive search, we think we have located the phantom AD, er, former AD Walter Skinner.” 

“I really am surprised it took you guys this long to find him,” said Scully, drawing her feet under her. “I thought you were supposed to be the best there is when it comes to hacking.” 

“We ARE,” insisted Frohike, “but well, we had to have just a wee bit of assistance on this one. We tried every avenue of investigation we could think of, but we kept running into dead ends. We had to ask our buddy Jimmy to, um, well…” 

“The little nit. His ego is now ten times what it was,” said Langly as he chewed on a piece of fried chicken he’d found in the refrigerator. “I still say if you’d given me enough time, I could have done the same thing.” 

“Langly,” smirked Frohike, “Skinner could have regrown hair by the time you’d gotten the information we needed. As much as it pains me to say it, Jimmy does have a few, um, skills with a computer that we might not have.” 

“He wants to get business cards that have his name with the initials ‘HE’.” 

“’HE’?” asked Scully 

“’Hacker Extraordinaire’. What a piece of sh*t!” 

“Byers,” said Scully plaintively, “can YOU please tell me what you found?” 

“Sure, Scully,” Byers said as he took the papers away from Frohike. “Well, after three weeks of almost non-stop searching…” 

“And non-stop phone calls,” added Frohike. “You must have called ten times a day, Scully.” 

“That’s not true,” she said. “I called once a day just to see how you were progressing. Ten times a day! Puh-leeze!” 

“Mr. Skinner most definitely did not want to be found,” said Byers as he ignored both Frohike and Scully. “He cancelled all his credit cards after paying off the balances, had his cell phone disconnected, closed his checking account and turned over all his financial holdings to his attorney, whom it turns out is his cousin and one of the straightest shooters in the business, if you can believe that.” 

“Then how did you find him if he didn’t leave any kind of paper trail?” asked Scully “I mean with no credit card receipts or cell phone call log there is no way of knowing which direction he headed. Or if even left the city at all.” 

“Oh, he left. He took all his clothes from his apartment as well as his computer. He left the sale of his apartment to the manger of the building, and from we could find out, it sold rather quickly, and for a very hefty sum. He had enough equity in the place that he probably realized about $100,000 cash from the sale. Unless he went out and bought a brand new Porsche, he should have enough to live on for a while. And yes,” Byers added, holding up his hand to stop her next question, “we did check. There are no new car purchases by him anywhere in this area.” 

“So, what’s he driving? If he retired, he had to turn in the company car, and I don’t remember seeing him drive anything else.” Scully rubbed the back of her neck. She had been sound asleep when the Gunmen had knocked; her workday had been long and intense and she was exhausted after performing four autopsies in a row. 

“Skinner had a Ford Bronco he purchased a couple of years ago. It was usually parked in the garage at his apartment building and according to the manager of his building, it disappeared the same time he did. He has to be driving that, because we couldn’t find his name listed on any airline manifest for the past two months. What’s the matter, gorgeous?” asked Frohike as Scully rocked her head from shoulder to shoulder. “Need a massage?” 

“Not from you,” she muttered. “I’m just a little beat, that’s all. Frohike! Get your hands off!” 
Frohike had gone around to the back of the sofa and was rubbing her neck. “Aw, get over it Scully. I’m not going to do anything. I’ll stay neck level, okay? How’s that feel?” 

She closed her eyes and relaxed as he firmly pushed his thumbs up her neck to the base of her skull, his hands pressing against either side of her head. 

“Okay,” she said softly as the tension began to leave her, “head and neck only. If those nasty little hands move in any other direction, Frohike will lose his di…” 

“I get the message.” 

“Ahem,” Byers cleared his throat. 

“Sorry, Byers. Go ahead. How did you find him?” 

“After we had exhausted all the obvious trails, we called in Jimmy to see if he had any ideas. He asked if we had checked Skinner’s family to see if THEY might have had any unusual expenses suddenly come up in the last couple of months.” 

“I didn’t know Skinner had any family, other than his ex-wife.” 

“He has an older brother and two sisters. The brother is Roy, the older sister is named Michelle, but they call her Mickey, and the baby sister is Roxanne, better known as Roxy. Roy owns a cattle ranch outside of a little town called Mulkey, Texas. Michelle lives nearby in Hart, which is not too far from Mulkey, and Roxy lives in…are you ready for this?….Earth, only it’s spelled Erath.” 

“Texas?” Scully shook her head. “For some reason I never thought of Skinner as living any place other than Washington. He doesn’t have any kind of accent.” 

“He’s been away from that area for a long time. Visits occasionally to see his parents, but otherwise, sticks pretty close to home and work. A rather boring individual, if you ask me,” said Byers. 

Frohike and Langly exchanged looks and tried not to smile. It was definitely a case of the pot calling the kettle black. 

“So, do you think they know where he’s gone?” Scully heaved a huge sigh as Frohike stopped massaging her head. “Thanks, Melvin, that was wonderful.” 

“Anytime, princess,” he said. 

“We think he’s there,” said Langly as he looked around for a place to put the well-gnawed chicken bone. He started to place it on her coffee table but stopped when he heard her clear her throat. He waved it around for a moment, then resigned himself to holding it. 

“Why?” asked Scully. 

“If you’re gonna hide out, what better place than the wide open spaces? AND with people who will help you.” 

“But why would he want to hide out? And from whom?” Scully’s forehead creased. 

“Okay, ‘hide out’ is a poor choice of words. More like, get away to some place where you can clear your head and make decisions about your next move. Maybe he’s trying to come to terms with some issue and just doesn’t want to be bothered,” said Byers with a shrug. 

“Wh...what issue?” asked Scully as she lowered her eyes to her hands. 

“Who knows? Maybe he’s tired of working for the government and is trying to decide if wants to become a cattle baron. Maybe his family is pressuring him to come back home. Maybe it’s woman problems,” said Frohike. 

The three men looked at each other for a moment, then shook their heads. 

“Nah,” they said in unison. 

“Mulder thinks he may be ill, and that’s why he left,” said Scully. 

“Not according to his latest check-up,” said Frohike. He flipped through the papers and showed her lab results as well as office notes. 

“How did…?” she started, then shook her head. “No, on second thought, don’t tell me.” 

She quickly scanned the papers. All of the blood work indicated that Skinner was indeed healthy. The dictated office notes revealed that he was a healthy 50-year-old man, well-nourished, well-developed, six-feet, two inches tall, 195 lbs., blood pressure 115/72, respiration 15, heart rate 60 bpm, yada, yada, yada. He must out regularly to maintain such good vitals, she thought. She read on until she came to his physical exam. Reflexes normal, bilateral muscle responses equal, abdomen firm, no tenderness noted. She blushed slightly as she continued to read; normal male genitalia, uncircumcised, both testicles descended, no masses or nodules palpated. Prostate exam showed no enlargement. She had examined him herself several times when he had been injured and had always maintained a professional attachment. But for some reason reading about his…attributes was much more difficult. She glanced quickly at the three men to see if they had noticed her discomfort, but they were busy arguing as usual. 

The patient had no complaints with breathing, heart rhythm, digestion, urination, or sexual function. Scully stared at the last entry. Sexual function? Who the hell had he been…? She shook her head firmly, what business was it of hers? He was an unattached good-looking man who would have no problems finding his share of willing partners. 

She threw down the papers; nope, no indeed, the man was definitely healthy. 

“So what makes you boys think he’s in Texas? Have you found any evidence that will substantiate your theory?” 

“Nope,” sighed Langly. “Not nothing.” 

“Then what makes you think that he’s gone there? He could be anywhere.” 

“Scully,” said Frohike reasonably, “if you’re going to leave one life and start another, aren’t you going to go home and check in with the family first? Get their feedback. Let them know what’s going on?” 

“Maybe,” she agreed reluctantly “But, how can we find out for sure if he’s there or not?” 

“There’s only one way,” said Byers. “Someone needs to go out there.” 

“I’ll talk to Mulder and see if we can go out there soon.” Scully stood up in hopes that the three men would take the hint and leave. 

“Why the big rush to find him?” asked Langly. “I mean, maybe he’s just wanting to start a new life and he thought this would be the best way to get out of town without a lot of sentimental crap.” 

“He’s our friend, Langly,” she tried to explain. “This is so out of character for him and we’re worried, that’s all. I mean, wouldn’t you do the same for Frohike or Byers if they suddenly decided to leave without saying good-bye.” 

“No.” 

“Liar!” she laughed. 

“He’s not lying,” said Frohike as he started towards the door. “He wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if Byers and I were suddenly swallowed up by the earth.” 

“That’s not true!” exclaimed Langly. “I would be very interested if you two got swallowed up. In fact, it would be the banner headline of the revamped ‘Lone GunMAN’ newspaper. I can see it now, ‘Earth Opens and Swallows Two Losers, Planet Gets Gas’. Right under that would be a story about a volcano eruption on the other side of the planet. “ 

“Ha, ha, very funny,” said Frohike. “G’night, Scully. Tell Mulder to stop working so late and get home to his beautiful wife, or he might find a certain, ahem, bon vivant older man taking his place.” Frohike preened as he waggled his eyebrows at Scully. 

It was almost 2 am when Scully finally fell asleep. Her alarm woke her at 6:30 and she rolled over to find Mulder snoring lightly beside her. She didn’t remember him coming in, and decided not to wake him with the news that the Gunmen might have found Skinner. She kissed his head before she left for work. 
It was late in the day when he called her. 

“Hey,” she said, “where’ve you been? I thought you would have called earlier.” 

“Oh, I got up late and had to rush right over to the office. This is the first chance I’ve had to call. How are you doing?” 

She could hear his chair squeek as he leaned back in it. “Busy. I should be done by 6:30 though. You want to go out to eat for dinner? I’m bushed and I don’t think I’m in the mood to cook.” 

“Can’t tonight,” he said, “I can’t leave the office for a while. Some information has come to us that we need to decide what to do with. I’ll be late again, so don’t worry about me and eating. I’ll catch something here.” 

“Again, Mulder? This is the fourth night in a week. I saw you more often BEFORE we got married.” She tried not to sound as if she were nagging, but his frequent absences were beginning to irritate her. 

“Scully, you know how this work is; it’s either feast or famine. Right now, there’s a lot of paranormal activity worldwide and we’re hoping to find a common denominator. Look, I promise that as soon as this settles down, we’ll spend a whole week holed up somewhere. Just me and you. We’ll make up for lost time, okay?” 

She was silent for a moment, “All right, I guess. But Mulder, it’s almost Christmas. We will be able to at least spend Christmas together, won't we? After all, it’s our first one as a married couple.” 

“I’ll try, Scully, you know that,” he said in exasperation. “But it’s like I said, it’s either feast…” 

“…or famine,” she finished for him. “I know.” 

“Besides, it’s not like we haven’t spent other Christmases together, so what’s the big deal?” 

It’s a big deal because now we’re supposed to be a family, she thought to herself. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She was silent for a moment. “Oh, by the way, the boys came by last night. They think they know where Skinner is.” 

“Really? Where?” His voice was distracted, as if he were reading something and not paying attention. 

“Texas. Did you know he was from Texas, Mulder?” 

“MMm, no, no I didn’t. So they think he’s there?” 

She could hear him turning pages and knew he was only half listening. 

“Yes. When do you want to go out there and see him?” she asked. 

“Uh, oh, I don’t know. Maybe…maybe after the holidays. It depends on if I have to go out of the country or not.” She could hear him turning more pages. 

“What do you mean, out of the country? You just said you’d be here for Christmas.” She tried to keep the anger out of her voice. 

“I said I’d TRY. But according to this report I’m reading we may need to send someone to France to check on some UFO sightings there.” 

“Let them send someone else, Mulder! Why does it have to be you?” she exploded. 

“Because I’m the supposed expert in this field,” he snapped. “That’s why they hired me.” 

“Well, let me come with you, then. If it means spending Christmas together I’d rather…” 

“No, Scully, you can’t. The Foundation doesn’t want any outsiders going along when they send someone out into the field.” 

“I’m not an outsider, Mulder! I’m your wife, remember? Besides, they know that I was with you during all those cases we investigated for the Bureau. They should be open to any help I can give.” 

“You’re still with the Bureau, Scully. And I told you, they don’t trust the government to maintain a hands-off policy in regards to their findings. Even though we’re married, they still feel that you might somehow leak any information we gather.” 

“THAT’S A LOAD OF CRAP!” she shouted into the receiver. “And you know it, Mulder! You of ALL people should know that. How can you let them continue to think that way?” 

“Calm down, Scully,” he said soothingly. “Look, you know how it is with these independent research groups. They’re always looking over their shoulders, thinking that everyone is out to get them. I haven’t been with them long enough to have enough clout to convince them otherwise.” 

He could hear her breathing heavily into the phone, her anger still raging. “Dana,” he said softly, “please. Just give me some time to make my mark with them, then I’ll work on changing their attitude towards letting you accompany me. Okay? Is it a deal?” 

On her end of the phone Scully closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. “Do I have a choice?” 

“Not really.” 

They were both silent for a moment. Mulder broke the silence. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he said softly. “Then we’ll make up for the last few days. I tell you what, maybe…maybe we can squeeze into that little bathtub and take a bubble bath together. After that, how about some nice aromatic body oil rubbed in all the right spots. Then…” 

She chuckled, “Better be careful, lover-boy. You might be biting off more than you can chew.” 

“Oh, I think I know how much to bite. And where. Wait up for me, Scully. I promise I won’t be long.” 

“All right,” she relinquished, “I’ll wait. I’ll even open a bottle of wine and let it breathe until you get here.” 

“Sounds delicious.” 

“Oh, and Mulder?” 

“Yeah?” 

“We will still go find Skinner, won’t we? I mean, you do still want to know why he left, don’t you?” 

“Of course, love. And I promise, right after the New Year, we’ll go to Texas and find him and browbeat him until he tells us why he left.” 

“We don’t have to do that,” she laughed. “I just want to know he’s all right. Once that’s settled in my mind, then he can get on with his life and we can do the same with ours. Right?” 

“You got it, kiddo.” 

Monica walked into the basement office and hung up her dripping overcoat. The weather was nasty outside, cold, rainy, and miserable. What did she expect for late January? The weather guys were predicting snow by noon, which would make any attempts to drive home this evening a test of everyone’s survival driving techniques. She shivered and rubbed her hands together. 
“Morning, Sunshine,” said John with a smile as he looked up from the papers spread out on his desk. “Coffee’s brewed, and you look like you could use a cup. Is it getting colder out there?” 

“Yes,” she said as she poured coffee into a black mug with the words ‘MIT (moron in training)’ stenciled in white letters on it. She cupped her hands around the mug and went to stand behind him as he bent his head closer to the papers. She put the back of her hand on his neck and he jumped. 

“Jesus, Monica, don’t do that! Your hands are like ice.” He jerked his head away, then swiveled his chair around and took her cold hand in his. “Where are your gloves?” he asked as he briskly rubbed her fingers. 

“I guess they’re in my other coat pocket, I couldn’t find them anywhere. What time did you get here?” she asked as she sipped her coffee. The warmth was beginning to slowly spread through her body. She squeezed his hand, then went to sit at her own desk. 

“Six-thirty,” he said, propping his feet up on one of the lower drawers that he had pulled out. “I’m trying to get these papers organized so we can turn in our report today. The AD did want them by this afternoon, didn’t he?” 

“Yes, but…why so early? And why didn’t you call me? I could have met you here and we could work on them together.” 

He shrugged, “I figured you’d need to sleep in. After all, we got in late last night from Wisconsin and you were pretty beat. Besides, the furnace went out sometime around 4:00 and my place was freezing. So I figured I’d come here and at least keep warm. Good thing I’d showered before I went to bed, or I would have been one frozen FBI agent. Or else an unpleasantly fragranced one.” 

“Why didn’t you just come to my place! You have a key, you could have just let yourself in and….” 

“And scared the bejesus out of you when I crept into your bed?” he laughed. “No, I don’t think so. Besides, I’ve gotten a lot done. And if I’d gone to your place, we’d both be late and it wouldn’t have been because of the rain.” 

“I’m not late!” she said with a smile and a shake of her head. 

“It’s almost 9:00, Agent Reyes,” he said with mock sternness. “Aren’t you supposed to be at your desk by 8 am? And don’t expect to be leaving early today; after all you’re going to have to make up for the time you’ve lost so far.” 

“But, Agent Doggett, what about the weather? If it gets any colder the roads will ice up, and if it snows, well, the streets will be hazardous. You don’t expect me to stay until 6:00 and then try to drive home in the dark, with all the other lemming that will be trying to get home in one piece? I mean, I just want to get home to my nice, warm apartment, where I can make some hot chocolate, and maybe add a little Irish cream to it. I was thinking of maybe enjoying a good mug of it in a warm bubble bath, with lots of candles all around, in case the electricity goes out. The only thing that could make that more enjoyable is there was someone with me to share it. Know anybody that might like to join me?” She smiled suggestively at him. 

“Monica,” he laughed as his face reddened, “remember our agreement. Once we walk through the front doors of the Hoover building, or while we’re out on assignment, we are partners only. Not a couple, not,” he looked around as if to check for eavesdroppers, ‘not lovers, we’re not even going steady. We agreed that was the only way we’d be able to keep working together.” 

“I know, John, but have I even mentioned the word love, or..” it was her turn to case the room for spies, “sex” she whispered. She continued in a normal tone. “I was just telling you what I planned to do tonight. Those are activities that can pretty much be done solo, you know.” 

“Yeah, but what you’re leading up to can’t,” he grinned. 

“Oh, yes it can. It’s just not as much fun.” She leered at him over the edge of her coffee mug as she took another sip. 

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, then Monica sighed. 

“What’s wrong?” asked John. 

“I got a phone call from Dana Scully this morning. That’s one of the reasons I was late, I mean besides the weather.” 

“What did she want? Man, we haven’t seen them since he got back from France, right after New Year’s. What’s us with them?” 

“He’s gone again,” Monica answered. “To some little Andean town in Peru, she thinks.” 

“She ‘thinks’? She doesn’t know?” 

Monica shrugged, “She said he is sometimes called away at the very last minute, so she’s never sure where he’s going. 

“So, why did she call? I don’t imagine it was to give you an update on Mulder’s activities.” 

“No, it wasn’t,” Monica said as she stared into her mug. “She wants me to go to Texas with her.” 

“Why? What’s in Texas?” John watched Monica closely as she continued to stare into the dark liquid in her mug. 

“You remember how adamant she was about checking on Skinner?” 

John nodded. “Yeah, but I thought she’d given up on that.” 

“Actually, no she hadn’t. It seems Mulder had promised her they’d go out there as soon as he got back from France, but of course they didn’t. She didn’t make a big deal of it, but last week he finally said they could go THIS week. So, she made the reservations, got everything arranged at work, then he ups and runs off to South America. She’s decided she’s going without him, but she doesn’t want to waste the non-refundable ticket. “ 

“Are you going?” 

Monica sighed and clicked her tongue, “Yeah, I am. She doesn’t need to go see Skinner alone, John. And I don’t think she wants to, that’s why she asked me. She’s…she’s pretty vulnerable right now, and I suspect even the slightest bit of encouragement from Skinner could be disastrous.” 

“When are you leaving?” 

“Tomorrow. We fly to Dallas-Fort Worth, then on to Amarillo where we’ll rent a car and drive to some little town called Mulkey. Supposedly Skinner’s living with his brother on a cattle ranch. “ 

“How good is your information? It would be a shame if it turned out he wasn’t there.” 

“I know,” she said with another sigh. “The Gunmen gave her what they think is correct information over a month ago. He may not be there now, IF he ever was. And there’s not guarantees his family will be willing to tell us where he is.” 

“Why doesn’t she just drop it?” John sat straight in his chair, his feet both on the floor. “It can’t be doing her marriage any good.” 

“Actually, I don’t think she is obsessive about finding Skinner any more. I think she’s just very disappointed that Mulder seems to have lost interest. After all, this man was their closest friend and advocate for a long time, and when he walked away without saying anything to anyone, Dana thought that Mulder would want to find out why.” 

“Does she really want Mulder to know why? I mean, isn’t the reason Skinner left because she and Mulder got married?” 

“She’s convinced herself that whatever she thought about his feelings towards her were the result of pre-wedding nerves. She’s sure he only thought of her as a friend and that he left for some unknown and possibly life-threatening reason. She insists she just wants to make sure he’s all right physically and mentally.” 

“But you’re saying he left because he does care for her and couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her and Mulder together as husband and wife.” 

“He loves her, John,” insisted Monica. “And deep down in her heart of hearts, Dana knows that. And I think right now, she needs to reassure herself she is loved by someone. Mulder seems to be growing more distant and maybe…maybe she’s afraid it’s because there’s something wrong with her that he can’t, or won’t stay home.” 

“I always thought Mulder was an idiot, now he’s proving it,” sighed John. “What if…what if you all get out there and Skinner decides to declare himself. What do you think she’ll do?” 

Monica shrugged and shook her head. “I haven’t a clue. But what I’m also worried about is what if she gets there and he DOESN’T?” 

When Scully and Monica left Washington the temperature was 25 degrees and falling, and snow blanketed the city. By the time they reached Amarillo, Texas, they were shedding their coats and sweaters as the thermometer topped 75 degrees with clear skies. 
The flight from Washington to Dallas-Fort Worth took almost as much time as their layover at the big Texas airport. They had almost four hours to kill before their flight left for Amarillo. They ate lunch in one of the many small cafes, then bought some magazines and settled down to wait for their flight to be called. 

“It must be warm outside,” observed Monica. “Everyone seems to be wearing short sleeves. I wonder if John got his furnace fixed.” 

“What a leap!” laughed Scully. “From short sleeves to furnaces. How did you manage that one?” 

“He beat me to work yesterday because his furnace broke down. He was going to take off early today and see if he could fix it himself.” 

“Oh? So, he didn’t get it taken care of yesterday? And just where did the chilly Agent Doggett sleep last night, mmm? Or do I dare ask?” Scully teased. 

“You can ask, just don’t expect an answer,” said Monica as she blushed. 

“I’ve all ready got my answer,” Scully said, patting Monica’s arm. “I’m happy for you two. I hope things work out. Just…just don’t wait too long before you decide. It might make all the difference in the world.” 

Monica looked sympathetically at Scully. “It’s not what you thought it would be, is it? I wish I had some magic words to make things better.” 

“It’s just that I don’t know what’s come over Mulder,” sighed Scully. “He was so anxious to get married, and since the wedding…” She shook her head. “I think Mulder’s the one that’s disappointed in what married life turned out to be like.” 

“Dana,” Monica started cautiously, “is it at all possible that Mulder somehow…senses what happened between you and Skinner?” 

“Monica,” Scully said in exasperation, “I’ve told you, nothing happened! It was an innocent kiss between friends, that’s all.” 

“Did you ever tell Mulder about it?” 

“Why should I? It was NOTHING!” Scully stressed. “It would be like telling him about a kiss between Frohike and me. It was inconsequential. I’ve put it completely out of my mind. The only time I ever think about it is when you bring it up.” 

“Then Mulder’s distance is a result of what?” 

Scully shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe…maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m not…” She looked away. “I wanted this marriage to work. I still do; it’s just that I seem to be working at it alone. I know that in a good marriage, both people have to give 100%. Well, I seem to be giving 110%, and Mulder’s…Mulder’s not even putting in fifty. Or maybe…maybe it’s just the initial adjustment period that he’s having trouble with. Maybe after a few months he’ll…” 

Her voice trailed off. “We’ve been friends for so many years, and I loved him for so long that you’d think it would be easy to make that transition. But…but it’s not. It’s not.” She stared off into the distance. 

Monica let her brood for a little bit, then started making ridiculous comments about the people scurrying around the airport. She finally got Scully to laugh after observing a tall thin blonde woman with big hair, tight capri pants and open-toed slides with impossibly high heels run after one of the tramcars that serviced the large terminals. 

“And she’s a perfect example of why Mexico sold Texas to the United States.” 

Scully laughed, “I thought they won their independence. At least that’s what I remember from my American history classes in high school.” 

“Not in mine,” Monica smiled. “Remember where I’m from.” 

At that moment the woman called out to her husband in flawless Spanish. “Vamos, mi amor!” 

Her husband, a tired looking dark-skinned man in a navy-blue guayabera shirt hurried to catch up to her. 
“Si, vieja, hay voy.” 

“You were saying?” Scully was laughing so hard tears were in her eyes. 

“Skewered by my own racial profiling,” Monica sighed dramatically. 

After what seemed to be an eternity, their flight was called and they boarded the plane for the short hop to Amarillo. Once there, they went immediately to the rental car desk and got the keys. The car Scully had rented was waiting in the Lariat Agency’s parking lot, and the two women stowed their small pieces of luggage in the trunk. Scully drove as Monica red from the Yahoo! Directions guide that Scully had downloaded from her computer. Scully chose to drive because she was unaccountably nervous about the trip, and wanted to do something besides sit in the passenger’s seat. 

“How far is it?” asked Monica. 

“About 80 miles or so,” said Scully as she adjusted the rear view mirror. “The instructions say about two hours driving time, but I think we can make it much faster than that.” 

“I don’t know,” said Monica, shaking her head. “It looks like a lot of narrow roads which means you won’t be able to drive as fast as you want. Look, it’s almost 3:00, by the time we get to…Mulkey?…is that the name?…it’ll be after 5:00. Why don’t we stop off someplace and spend the night, then we can go out there first thing in the morning and catch him before he starts his day. Besides, I don’t think we’re going to exactly get an invitation to spend the night, and I don’t relish driving around looking for a place to stay. I doubt seriously Mulkey’s gonna be a tourist mecca with hundreds of motel rooms. And we don’t know the roads very well., plus if the weather decides to…” 

“Okay, okay, you win,” sighed Scully. “We’ll get a room in the nearest big town to Mulkey.” 

“That would be Hereford, said Monica as she consulted the map. “Although, I do hanker to say I spent the night in Dimmitt, Texas. 

It was after 10 am when they finally found the turn to the county road that led to Mulkey. They had missed it and had driven into a little town named Roy, and had to get directions from a rancher pulling a horse trailer. Once they reached the tiny town of Mulkey, they stopped at a tan aluminum building that housed the post office to get directions to the Skinner homestead. Just as they pulled into one of the four parking spots in front of the building, a sheriff’s car parked beside them and a tall lanky man got out. 
“Oh, Sheriff,” called Scully as she got out of her car, “excuse me, could you tell us please how to get the Roy Skinner’s ranch?” 

“Well, depends,” the man smiled as he removed his sunglasses. “Are you two ladies bill-collectors? 'Cuz if you are, then they might not appreciate me telling.” 

“No, sir,” Scully said, smiling in turn “I’m Dana Scully and this is Monica Reyes. We…we used to work with Mr. Skinner’s brother at the FBI. We were hoping to stop by and say hello, see how he’s doing.” 

Scully figured this was one way to find out if the former assistant director was staying with his brother. 

“Oh, yeah, Walt! Yeah, I know the Skinners, nice people. Real nice people. And they’re all thrilled that Walt’s decided to move back home. How ‘bout you follow me on out there? It’ll be easier than me trying to tell you how to get there.” 

“We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” said Scully. 

“No inconvenience what so ever. Especially for two lovely ladies like yourselves. Just follow me, but make sure you keep your windows up. It’s gonna be kinda dusty.” 

“Thank you, Sheriff…?” Scully couldn’t read his nametag from where she was standing. 

“Smith, Lance Smith,” the man said, touching the brim of his Stetson hat. 

“Thank you, Sheriff Smith.” Scully got back into the car and waited for the sheriff to pull out ahead of her. 

She followed his black-and-white Ford for about twenty minutes over some dusty and pockmarked roads, until at last he signaled a turn and pulled onto a long driveway. The car rattled over a cattle guard as Scully followed him another 200 yards before he stopped in front of a large white two-story clapboard house. There was a long porch across the front that wrapped around the sides. Sheriff Smith mounted the four steps that led to the porch, and waited for Scully and Monica to join him. Before they had a chance to knock the front door was opened and a tall man stepped out. For a moment, Scully thought it was Skinner, the resemblance between the two men was so strong. But as she tried to control her rapidly beating heart, she realized it must be his brother. The man was as tall as Walter Skinner, but a few years older and what hair he had was gray. 

The man glanced quickly over at the two women, then turned his attention to the sheriff. 

“What’s up, Lance? Anything the matter?” As he spoke, Scully knew it wasn’t Skinner; the man had a pronounced Texas accent. 

“Naw, Roy, things’re fine. These two ladies are lookin’ for your brother. Say they used to work with him. Is he around?” 

“Howdy, ma’am, ma’am,” Roy said to Scully and Monica, nodding his head at first one, then the other. “Why don’t y’all come on in and I’ll see where Walt’s got to.” He held the door open for them and they walked into a wide hallway that stretched to the back of the house. 

“Thank you,” said Scully as she walked past Roy Skinner. “My name is Dana Scully and this is Monica Reyes. AD Skinner…uh, Mr. Skinner may have mentioned working with us.” 

“Roy Skinner, ma’am, and its pleasure to make your acquaintance. No, ma’am, Walt’s not much of a talker and he really don’t talk about his work. Y’all step on into the front room here while I see if he’s, uh, out in the barn. Have a seat and I’ll get Jessie to get you some coffee.” He ushered the women and the sheriff into a large pleasant living room, and then turned around to leave, almost colliding with a tall, slightly stooped elderly man. “Oh, hey, Daddy, sorry!” 

“What’s all the ruckus, Roy? Why’s the sheriff’s car out front?” The older man looked over Roy Skinner’s shoulder. “We got company?” 

“’Morning, Mr. Skinner,” called out the sheriff. “Sorry to intrude, but these ladies are looking for Walt and I thought I’d bring them out here.” 

“No problem, Lance, unless of course one of these lovely ladies is coming to claim Walt’s the daddy of their love child,” the old man smiled and winked at Scully and Monica as his son gasped in surprise. 

“Daddy! What are these ladies gonna think?” 

“They’re probably thinking I’m some senile old man, and they won’t be far from the truth. Gilbert Skinner, ma’am, and I’m very pleased to meet you.” He shook first Scully’s hand, then Monica. “Sorry ‘bout that, but sometimes my sons need a little shakin’ up, and that’s what I’m here for. Siddown, Lance, you’re takin’ up all the room. Ladies,” and the old man indicated that they were to sit. “Go on, Roy, find Walt and tell him to get his tail in here, but not to hurry. It’s not often we get such high-falutin’ guests.” 

Roy left the room, and Scully suddenly felt as if she’d lost blood supply to her hands and feet, and she cleared her throat nervously. 

“Um, I’m Dana Scully and this Monica Reyes,” she said again for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. “We worked with…uh…Assistant Director Skinner before he…he retired and we thought we’d stop by to see how he’s…enjoying it. His retirement, I mean.” 

Gilbert Skinner looked at Scully and nodded. “Just happen to the be in the neighborhood, huh?” 

Scully blushed furiously, knowing how implausible the story sounded. “Something like that,” she said softly. 

Gilbert smiled at her, then turned his attention to Monica. “Reyes. That’s Mexican, isn’t it?” he asked suddenly. 
Monica’s own smile dimmed slightly and Scully could feel her body stiffen with tension. There was still a lot of racial prejudice against her nationality by some people in Texas even in this day and age. 

“Yes, sir, it is.” Her answer was terse. 

Gilbert Skinner nodded his head. “Born here?” 

“No, sir,” she answered slowly. “I was born in Mexico.” 

Just then a middle-aged woman came into the room carrying a tray with mugs of coffee. She placed it on the low table in front of the sofa and straightened up. She had soft brown eyes, a round face with a wide flat nose and dark skin. She smiled at Monica and Scully. 

“Jessie!” said Gilbert Skinner sharply. “You didn’t bring any sweet bread. Go on back out to the kitchen, girl, and fetch some of molletes and some of those fried doughnuts I know you got hidden away.” 

“But, I didn’t think…” Jessie started to say in lightly accented English. 

“Go on, now, before the coffee gets cold.” Gilbert dismissed her with a wave of his hand. 

Jessie looked a moment at the old man with an exasperated expression, then left the room. 

Monica had watched the exchange with growing dislike for Skinner’s father. 

“How long has she been working for you?” she asked, her smile erased by the man’s attitude. 

“Worked…? Who, Jessie?” Gilbert Skinner looked at Monica in puzzlement. His face cleared and his smile widened. “Oh, I don’t know, 25, 30 years. I can’t remember exactly when she came to us. Jessie,” he called out as the woman re-entered carrying a plate piled high with Mexican pastries, “how long you been with the family?” 

“Gil, you know me and Roy just celebrated our thirtieth anniversary last month. Are you getting so old you can’t remember the party we had?” She held the plate in front of him so he could choose a pastry. 

“No, ma’am, I remember it well enough. But this young lady wanted to know how long you’d been working for us, and I couldn’t rightly recall the first time you helped us herd cattle.” 

Jessie shook her head and rolled her eyes, “Excuse him, he has an unusual sense of humor. I’m Jesusita Skinner, but everyone calls me Jessie.” 

“I...I…Monica Reyes,” stuttered Monica. “Nice…to…um,” she reddened slightly. 

Scully bit her lips to keep from laughing. “That’s two,” she mouthed at Monica, holding up two fingers. She smiled as she introduced herself. 

Just then a small elderly woman bustled into the room. She was beautiful, even in old age. Her hair was snow white and her face was as pink and unlined as her husband’s was weather-worn. She had to be Skinner’s mother, decided Scully, they had the same brown eyes and the same nose. 

“Hello,” the old woman said, “I’m Millicent Skinner. Roy said you two were looking for Walt. There’s…there’s not any kind of trouble, is there?” 

“No, ma’am,” Scully assured her. And again she explained about their working relationship. “He…he left so suddenly we didn’t get a chance to say good-bye. We wanted to, um, make sure he was all right and wish him well.” 

“Oh, how sweet!” said Millicent. She was watching the two women closely. “How very kind of you to come all this way. Yes, his appearance here was rather sudden, so I imagine his DISappearance must have been just as surprising. When was the last time you saw him?” She tilted her head slightly as she waited for their answer. 

“At…at my wedding,” explained Scully. “He was our best man, and when my…my husband and I returned from our honeymoon, he was gone.” 

Millicent nodded her head and smiled politely, her eyes narrowing as Scully confirmed her suspicions as to her relationship to Skinner. “Oh, so you’re a newlywed! Well, congratulations! Did your husband come with you?” She asked pointedly. 
“Um, n-n-no, he’s, um, in South America on business. He had planned to come with me, but something came up unexpectedly. Agent Reyes was kind enough to say she’d accompany me.” Scully put down her cup and folded her hands, trying to cover the fact that the woman was making her nervous. Millicent Skinner seemed to be able to look directly into her heart and see things that even Scully was unaware were there. 

“Excuse me for a moment,” said Millicent with a note of apology in her voice. “I need to make a phone call.” She stood up and started to leave the room. 

“Who you calling, old woman? It can wait until later, we’ve got guests,” complained Gilbert. 

“I’ll only be a moment, Gilbert,” she said, patting her husband’s shoulder as she passed him. 

She quickly returned and for the next hour they all sat and talked, Monica and Scully answering questions about Washington and working for the Bureau, the Skinners volunteering little information about Skinner or his reasons for leaving. The only thing they found out was that the ranch had originally been Gilbert’s and he had handed over to Roy when he grew too old to work it. He and Millicent lived with his son and daughter-in-law, and their other children and grandchildren lived and worked nearby. 

“Jessie,” Gilbert finally said, “go find Roy and Walt and tell them to get their butts in here. These ladies ain’t got all day to wait on them.” 

Just as Jessie reached the door, Roy Skinner entered the room. 

“Uh, sorry about that, folks, but, uh, it seems like Walt left a while ago to um, round up some heifers that are getting ready to calve. It’ll probably be real late by the time he gets back, so, uh, why don’t you…” 

“When did he leave?” asked Gilbert. 

“A…uh…a couple of hours ago, I guess,” Roy said, not looking directly at his father. When he had told his brother who was waiting for him, Skinner had cursed and gone pale. 

“Oh, sh*t!” Walter Skinner looked around nervously. “Look, Roy, tell them I left to…to go check fence lines, something, anything. But give me some time to get out of here before you go back in there.” 

Skinner went to one of the big horses that had been saddled and was waiting for a rider to go to work and had swung up easily into the saddle. 

“Daddy’s gonna be pissed,” Roy warned. 

“Please, Roy, just give me a little time, okay? I’ll…I’ll be back tonight.” He had clicked his tongue and squeezed the sides of the horse and they moved off at a cantor. 

Roy had paced the floor of the barn for an hour before going back into the house with his announcement. 

He was right, his father was not pleased. 

“What the hell…? Why would he go off like that without sayin’ anything to me? And why did it take you so long to come back in here and tell us?” the old man asked. 

“Uh, I…I had to finish something in the barn, Daddy. Anyway, no sense in you ladies waitin’, he probably won’t be back until way up into the night. Maybe…maybe you could come back tomorrow and catch him then.” Roy shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and rocked back on the heels of his boots. 

“We…we have to get back to Washington tomorrow,” said a disappointed Scully. “I…we were hoping just to see him for a moment. I guess, well, I guess we’ll just have to be content with leaving him a message.” 

“Hell, no!” declared Gilbert. “You two have come a long ways, and the least we can do is make sure you get to at least exchange howdies. Come on, let’s go see if we can find out which way he went.” 

“Gilbert,” said Millicent rising as her husband started to lead Scully and Monica out through the kitchen, “I don’t think that’s necessary. We can give Walter any message they want to leave him.” 

“Nonsense! If they’re willing to travel two thousand miles to see how he’s doing, the least we can do is make sure they do.” 

Scully and Monica slowly followed the old man out into the yard behind the house. They walked down a wide hard-packed drive between trucks and farm equipment towards a large barn. 

“Jerry!” Gilbert called to a young man carrying a feed sack. “C’mere, boy!” 

The tall thin youth dropped the sack from his shoulder and came to stand beside the older man. “What’s up, Grampa?” 

“Jerry, these ladies are looking for your Uncle Walt. Your daddy says he’s headed out looking for heifers. I want you to drive them to wherever he’s at, understand? Looks like he’s riding Max,” the old man looked around at the horses still standing in the corral, “so he may have quite a start on you. I imagine he headed towards that wash over in the northeast, so why don’t you check there first.” 

“Okay, Grampa,” said the boy with a grin. He moved quickly towards an old Ford pick-up truck and started the engine, gunning it in his enthusiasm. 

“Seventeen years old and thinks he’s Mario Andretti,” laughed Gilbert. He opened the passenger door and the two women climbed in. “Boy, I just had them leaf springs replaced, so don’t you go bustin’em up again out there on them prairie dog hills. Walt’s on a horse, so you’ll catch up to him in no time.” 

He slammed the door shut and waved as the truck left in a spurt of dirt. Millicent Skinner came and stood beside her husband. 

“Gilbert! Why did you do that? Don’t you know who she is? She’s the one…” 

“I’m aware, Millie,” said Gilbert absently as he watched the truck move slowly across the fields. “He needs to face her and get her out of his system if he’s ever going to get on with his life.” 

“She’s a married woman, Gil. She shouldn’t be out here chasin’ him down like some kind of…hussy!” 

“She’s no hussy, woman. And I think she’s tryin’ to settle a demon or two herself.” 

“But, Gil, what if he…? What if she…?” Millicent worried the small gold cross she wore on a chain around her neck. 

“They won’t do anything,” Gilbert assured his wife. “Walt’s not that kind of man, and she don’t look like the kind of woman who’d cheat on her husband, even if she is in love with someone else. Walt shouldn’t have left like he did without saying good-bye to her. He needs to do that now, so they can both move on.” 

“How do you know she wouldn’t commit adultery?” scoffed Millicent. “For all you know, she’s a regular Jezebel. She just charmed you like she did Walter.” 

“She didn’t charm me,” smiled Gilbert. “I just have a soft spot for small women.” He hugged his much smaller wife, sliding his hand down her back until he could squeeze her backside. “Still do.” 

“Gilbert! Not out here where God and everybody can see!” laughed Millicent. 

“Millie, after sixty years of marriage, I’m pretty damn sure God’s seen it all with us.” 

“So, you two are FBI agents, like my Uncle Walt?” asked Jerry as the three of them bounced along the rough ground. “Must be pretty neat, getting to walk around carrying a badge, protecting the country.” 
“It’s all right,” said Scully as she gripped the dashboard to keep from hitting her head on the headliner of the truck. “What do you want to do when you finish high school, Jerry? Or have you graduated all ready?” 

“Nah…I mean, no ma’am, I’m a senior. I plan on going to Tarleton University and get my degree in ranch and land management, then come back here and help my dad and grandpa. I love this ol’ ranch, and I wanna make sure it’s still around when I have kids. My sister, though, she’s at Yale, getting her law degree. And my brother’s got his MBA and he’s a banker over in Tulia. That’s a town not too far from here,” the boy explained. 

“Very impressive,” muttered Scully. “Um, how much farther do we have to go?” 

“The wash my grandpa was talking about is right over there, but I don’t see any sign of Uncle Walt. No heifers, either.” 

“Maybe he already started heading them back to the ranch,” said Monica, rubbing her shoulder where it had hit the door. 

“No, ma’am, we would have seen him. Cattle don’t like to move too fast, especially when they’re pregnant.” Jerry stared out the windshield, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel to some music only he heard. “There’s an old line shack on the other side of this draw, maybe he went there.” He put the truck into gear and slowly moved forward, down the bank of the dried-up creek bed, then up the other side. 

It took them fifteen minutes to find the weathered building, and sure enough, tied to a metal ring on the side of the house was a big pinto horse. Jerry stopped the truck and the two women got out. The shack had only a door and one window, on the other side of which an unseen Walter Skinner watched them approach. 

Scully raised her hand to knock, but stood staring at the door instead. She waited so long that Monica reached around her and knocked. There was no answer. She knocked again. 

“Sir, we know you’re in there, why don’t you open up? We’ve come an awfully long way to see you and make sure you’re all right. It would be a shame to let a flimsy door stand in our way.” 

Slowly the door opened and he stood before them. Scully’s heart turned completely over in her chest. He had changed over the last few months. He was thinner, but not scrawny. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt and she could see that his arms and chest had hardened with the work he must be doing on the ranch. His skin was slightly more tanned that she was used to, and the top of his head was white, as if he wore a hat all the time. Her eyes searched his face for any sign of welcome, but his eyes were hard and his face shuttered against any sign of emotion. 

“What brings you two all the way out here?” he asked. 

Scully opened her mouth to speak, but her throat closed against her efforts and she could only continue to stare. Little did she know the impact she was having on him. 

She looks thinner, he thought, tired…sad. That surprised him, he thought she would be glowing still with the radiance of a new wife. Instead, she looked as if she had been under a great deal of strain. Or maybe, maybe the trip was just too much for her. It was a long, long way from Washington. 

“We…wanted to see how you were doing, sir,” said Monica in an attempt to get someone, anyone to speak. “You left so suddenly and…” 

“Are you all right?” Scully had finally found her voice. “I…we’ve been afraid that maybe you were ill.” 

“No, Agent Scully, I’m fine. Never felt better. Thanks for asking, though. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” 

“Wait, how…how do you know you’re all right? I mean…I mean taking off like that without a word to any one, well, maybe…maybe it’s a…a sign that you’re…” 

“Unbalanced? Crazy? Early stage Alzheimer’s?” he scoffed. “No, Agent Scully, nothing physically or mentally wrong with me. I just decided it was time to retire and come back home, that’s all.” 

“But…but why didn’t you say good-bye? You could have at least waited until we got back from our cruise and…” 

“How IS Mulder, by the way?” His jaw clenched as he waited for her response. 

“He…he’s fine. He wanted to come, but…uh…work kind of…interfered.” She looked away from him, her eyes traveling around the small cabin. It was nothing more than a room with a cot, a table, and a potbelly stove. 

“Still off chasing will-of-the-wisps?” he muttered. No one answered. 

“Well, Scully, as you can see I’m fine. You wasted time and money coming out here. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do.” The emptiness of the shack gave lie to his words. 

“All right,” she said softly, “I’m…I’m glad you’re doing well. I guess…I guess this is good-bye then. Take care of yourself and if you’re ever in Washington, please come by and see us.” She started to turn away, “Thank you, Walter, for everything you’ve done for us over the years. Thank you for being our friend.” 

She held out her hand for him to shake and he reluctantly took it. Slowly he pumped her arm once, then twice. But instead of letting go, they stood for a moment, her hand still in his, staring into each other’s eyes. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, caressing the soft skin. For a moment, Monica thought he was going to raise it to his lips to kiss it, and was ready to step between the two if he tried. Instead, he dropped Scully’s hand and his eyes, which had softened as he gazed at her, hardened once again. 

“You need to leave, Scully. Go home, go back to Washington. Your life is there. Go back to Mulder and your marriage. Forget…forget anything you think MAY have happened and concentrate solely on what your life is now. I know I have.” 

Scully’s eyes widened at his words, but she didn’t say anything. She merely nodded and turned her back to him. She walked slowly to the truck and climbed in. 

“That was mean!” said Monica angrily. “How could you say something like that to her?” 

“What did you want me to say?” he hissed. “Stay here, Dana, stay with me and forget your husband, your marriage vows? Sorry, Monica, but I don’t break up marriages!” 

Monica hesitated a moment, debating how much she should tell him about her friend and her problems. 

“It’s been hard for her the last few months,” she said softly. 

“Why? She’s only been married for a while, surely the bloom is not off the rose all ready?” 

“Mulder’s…Mulder’s changed and he…” Monica looked away, afraid she was saying too much. 

“He what, Monica? He’s changed how? Is he…he’s not hurting her…” Skinner took one step forward, but Monica held up her hand. 

“No, of course not. At least not physically. But he’s…he’s not around. He seems to have forgotten that he has a wife. His work seems to come before anything else.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Skinner as he crossed his arms. “But there’s nothing I can do about that. Like I said, I take her vows seriously, even though Mulder might not. Take her back to Washington, Monica, there’s nothing out here for her. Be her friend, she looks like she could use one.” 

“Yes, she does, she needs all the friends she can get,” agreed Monica. “I guess she was hoping she’d find one here, too. I guess she was wrong.” 

“I can’t be just her friend, Monica. I’ve been that. I wanted to move to the next level, but I can’t now.” 

“She didn’t know, sir. You never gave her any indication of how you felt. If you had…” 

“If I had she still would have married Mulder. She thought that’s where her heart lay.” 

The truck horn beeped loudly. Monica turned and waved at Jerry sitting behind the steering wheel, Scully sitting beside him with her head down. 

“Good-bye, sir. John and I miss you, we really do. Please, don’t forget your friends in Washington.” 

“I won’t,” he promised. “And Monica…” he stopped and he looked out at the passenger in the truck. 

“I’ll watch out for her, sir. I promise.” 

With that she ran out to the truck and got in. Jerry pulled away from the shack in a cloud of dust and Skinner watched them until they disappeared over the mound of a small hill. His eyes filled with tears, whether from the dust or from what was in his heart, who couldn’t say. 

Jerry drove the truck to the front of the house so Scully and Monica could get to their car. The sheriff’s vehicle was gone, but a dark green Suburban pulled in directly behind the rental car and stopped. Two women got out and approached Scully and Monica as they climbed out of the pick-up. 

“Hey, Aunt Mickey, Aunt Roxie. Whatchy’all do out here?” Jerry called to the two women. 
Monica knew immediately these were Skinner’s sisters. They were both of short stature and bore a striking resemblance to their mother. The mystery of the phone call was solved. Mrs. Skinner had called her daughters to come confront Scully. The older woman wouldn’t do it herself, but she knew her daughters would do anything to protect their brother. 

“Jerry, go inside and tell your mama that we’ve brought her some more hay to put around her flowerbeds,” said one woman as she stopped in front of Scully. “There’s a cold front comin’ and I know she doesn’t want to lose her roses.” 

“Huh?” grunted Jerry. “Why would she need more hay. We got plenty of our…” 

“Jerry, just go inside like Roxie said,” ordered the other woman. 

“Yes’m,” he said. He hurried up the front steps; he knew the look in his aunts’ eyes, and the safest place for him was somewhere far, far away. 

“Can I help you?” asked Monica as she stepped in front of Scully. 

“Hurry, Mickey, Daddy’ll be out here in a minute,” said the younger of the two women. They stepped around Monica and faced Scully. 

“You Dana?” asked Michelle Skinner. 

Scully, who had stood motionless while the two women surrounded her, nodded slowly. 

“Look, honey, I don’t know what went on back in Washington, but I’m telling you to stay away from my brother.” 

“Nothing happened,” said Scully in a flat voice. “Not a thing.” 

“Well, something sure ‘nough happened for him to come back home like a beat dog with his tale twixt his legs. In case you hadn’t noticed, missy, he’s a fine, decent man and he doesn’t need a…a tramp like you breaking his heart.” 

Scully continued to stare at the two women. Monica, however, stepped in front of her to block her from the women’s attack. 

“Look, you two don’t know what you’re talking about. This is a good woman, and she’d never…” 

“Oh, yeah?” snorted Roxie. “Would a decent woman get a man to fall in love with her, then dump him and marry someone else? Maybe in the big city, but not out here. And then for her to come all the way out here to try and get him back, well, I swear, I’ve never heard of such.” 

“Tryin’ to lure him into some kind of sordid, backstreet affair,” grumbled Mickey. “You must have a mighty high opinion of yourself if you think you can corrupt…” 

Scully stepped around Monica and glared at the sisters. 

“First off,” she said fiercely, “you watch too much television if you think it’s that easy to get a man to go against his principles. Secondly,” her voice was rising, “you don’t know your brother very well, or at all, if you think he’d even stoop to such immoral behavior. Lastly, and more importantly, you don’t know ME at all, so how can you even begin to judge me. I am a good Christian woman,” she slapped her chest with emphasis, “and I believe in the sanctity of my marriage. And not matter how much I may love your brother…” 

Monica’s eyes widened with Scully’s admission. 

“…I would never, NEVER,” she stressed loudly, “want to do anything to hurt him. Besides, he needs to take some responsibility for what happened. If he hadn’t been such a coward and had TOLD me how he felt, I would have never gotten married. Instead, he stuck to his noble principles and now look where we are. I’m stuck in a deteriorating marriage, and he’s living out here with the Wicked Witches of the East AND West!”

Scully was breathing heavily, her hands clenched into fists at her side. The sisters stared open-mouthed at her. Monica wasn’t sure whether to step in and pull Scully away, or let the cathartic rant continue. The sound of slow clapping made them all turn towards the porch. 
“Very good, young lady,” said Gilbert as he lowered his hands. “Very well put. I reckon you’ve met my daughters. They’re good girls, even though they have a tendency to stick their noses where they don’t belong. But then, they do love their brother, probably almost as much as you do.” 

Scully looked away quickly, trying to hide the tears that started to fill her eyes. Gilbert Skinner came down the steps and stood between the four women. 

“Mickey, get that big gas-guzzler of yours out of the way so these ladies can leave. Ms. Scully here has a long way to go to get back to her husband and she needs to get started, don’tcha, Hon?” 

Scully nodded slowly as she continued to look out towards the horizon. Mickey hesitated only a moment before getting in and starting her Suburban. She moved it towards the back of the house, leaving Roxie to face her father alone. 

“Roxanne, get inside and tell your mama I need to see all three of you in a bit.” 

“Yes, Daddy,” Roxie said meekly. She hurried up the steps and into the house, carefully closing the door behind her. 

Gilbert walked Scully around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for her. Before she could sit down, though, he took her chin between his fingers and tilted her face. 

“I can see why he loves you. You got spunk, girl, and fire. There’s a good brain behind those blue eyes. You remind me a lot of my wife; same ability to love deeply, same loyalty, same sense of duty. Maybe that’s why he was afraid to say anything to you. Afraid he might not be worthy of all that. It’s too bad,” he sighed, releasing her, “he’s missed out on something very special.” 

She shook her head, unable to speak. She got into the car and the old man slammed the door shut. She lowered her head and tried to keep from bursting into loud sobs. 

Monica opened the driver’s door and leaned down to speak to Scully. 

“Give me a minute, Dana,” she said. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” 

Scully nodded and leaned her head back against the headrest. 

“Mr. Skinner, may I use your facilities? All that bouncing around in the truck has, um…” 

Gilbert laughed, “Sure, girl. Go on in.” 

“Um, would you…would you mind accompanying me? I don’t want to…” 

“Afraid of the she-wolves? Okay, I’ll show you where to go. But trust me, they’re meek as lambs right now.” 

Monica followed him back into the house, but when he started to show her where the bathroom was, she stopped him. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t really need to…um…go, I just wanted to ask you a favor.” 

“Ask away, Hon, and if I can I’ll be happy to oblige.” 

“I need a pen and a piece of paper,” she said looking around. The old man pulled a small spiral notebook from his shirt pocket, as well as a silver Cross pen. Monica looked at it appreciatively. 

“Gift from Walt, when I turned 75,” Gilbert explained. 

Monica smiled, “Nice pen. Good son.” 

“Good man. A little stupid sometimes, but for the most part a very good man,” he said proudly. 

Monica scribbled on one sheet of the notebook. 

“Sir, this is my e-mail address. Could you please give it to AD…Walter,” she still felt funny calling him by his first name. “Tell him…tell him anytime he wants to know how things are going…um…at the Bureau, he can contact me. In…in case he ever…decides he wants to know what’s going on. At the Bureau. You know, if he’s ever curious.” 

“I’ll make sure he gets this, Ms. Reyes. And I’ll also make sure he checks in from time to time. You know. Just to see how things are going. At the Bureau.” The old man smiled and winked at Monica. 

Monica smiled back, then leaned over and kissed his leathery old cheek. “Thanks for your wonderful hospitality, sir. I hope one day…” 

“Let’s don’t start wishin’ for horses just yet, girl.” 

Gilbert followed her out onto the porch, where he stood and watched as they drove away. He shook his head; what a mess people made of their lives when they didn’t follow their hearts. He went back inside the house. 

“Millicent,” he called out, “what the hell were you thinking?” 

Monica drove for a while, waiting for Scully to speak. At first she thought her friend had fallen asleep, but when she glanced over at her, she saw that her eyes were open and staring obliviously out the side window. 
“Dana, what do you want to do?” 

Scully closed her eyes. What did she want to do? She wanted to go back to that line cabin and make love to Walter on that narrow cot. She wanted to sit with him, wrapped in a blanket in front of that ugly potbelly stove, and then make love again as the wind whistled through the cracks in the walls. She wanted to make today never have happened. She wished she hadn’t seen him, it only made the pain of knowing she could never be with him that much worse. 

“I guess we go back to Amarillo and find a place to stay. Our flight doesn’t leave until 9 a.m., and personally, I’m beat. I just want to sleep for a few hours.” Or a few days or maybe even for a few decades. 

They drove a while longer in silence, then Monica decided they needed to at least talk a little about what had happened. 

“I…I like Mr. Skinner,” she said. 

Scully looked over at her, puzzled. 

“I…I mean, the old man Skinner. He’s…he’s sharp as a tack, isn’t he?” 

Scully said nothing. 

“I’m…I’m not sure about the mother and the sisters. They’re kind of, um, rude.” 

“They’re not rude,” said Scully with a sigh. “They were protecting their brother. I’d do the same for my brothers.” 

She was silent for a moment or two. “I wish I hadn’t come. I should have listened to you and stayed in Washington. This has been a disaster. He…he hates me now.” 

“No he doesn’t,” Monica tried to reassure her. “He was just…surprised to see you.” 

“Not as surprised as I was, when he opened that door and I realized…I realized how much I missed him. And how…how much…I love him.” 

“Are you sure, Dana?” asked Monica. “Are you sure it’s really love and not something else?” 

“You mean like infatuation or… or maybe wish fulfillment? My life sucks so I think I’m in love with him to try to escape reality?” 

“Maybe,” Monica shrugged. 

“Maybe,” agreed Scully. “It is a possibility, I guess. I mean, as Mulder grows more and more distant it’s possible that I’m inflating my feelings for Walter, trying to find someone who’ll love me and that I can love back.” 

“Except for one small thing,” added Monica. “You were already questioning your feelings about him before the wedding, remember?” 

“I remember,” she said softly, closing her eyes as she tried to recall that one kiss they had shared. It seemed so long ago. 

“I also remember you being afraid he might do something foolish, like stop the ceremony. What would you have done if he had?” 

“In hindsight I wish he had. I wish he had picked me up and whisked me away and made love to me until I had admitted how I felt. But at the time,” Scully shrugged, “I don’t know. Probably nothing. I’d’ve married Mulder anyway and still ended up in the same fix I’m in.” 

Monica glanced over at Scully, “So what happens now?” 

Scully shrugged. “Back to Washington, try to salvage my marriage. Learn to forget the man…” she swallowed hard as the hopelessness of her situation settled in, “…to forget the man I love, and re-learn how to love the man I married.

Everyone in the Skinner household was asleep by the time Walter Skinner quietly closed the back door and walked stealthily across the kitchen towards the stairs. Well, almost everyone. 
“’Bout time you decided to come inside,” said Gilbert Skinner as he sat in his easy chair in a corner of the large kitchen, hidden by the dark. 

“Jesus, Daddy!” exclaimed Skinner, clapping his hand over his heart. “You scared the crap out of me! What are you doing up, anyway? It’s almost midnight, shouldn’t you be in bed? Mama’s not going to be happy with you staying up this late.” 

“She knows where I am,” Gilbert said, flicking on a small reading lamp that stood on a table next to his chair. “She wanted me to make sure you were all right. C’mon and sit down, let’s talk a bit.” 

“I’m fine, Daddy,” Skinner said. “I wish everyone would quit worrying about how I am. It’s getting annoying.” 

“Sit down, Walter,” ordered Gilbert. 

With a sigh, Skinner pulled one of the kitchen table chairs over near his father and sat down, stretching his long legs out in front of him. 

“I saw you ride in hours ago, why didn’t you come on in? You missed supper.” 

“I…I wasn’t hungry. And I had to brush down Max and, you know, there was some things I had to do.” He shook his head in amazement. “I can’t believe you sat up waiting for me. I’m not sixteen years old, you know. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing that for quite a long time.” 

Gilbert ignored Skinner’s grumbling. “You missed your sisters, too. They were here for a while.” 

“What were they doing here? I didn’t think they were coming over until Saturday.” 

“They…they wanted to meet this woman that came out to see you. You know, kinda check her out.” 

Skinner sat up straight, his body suddenly tenses. “What…what do you mean, check her out? They didn’t…?…what did they…?…they weren’t…?” 

“Rude?” chuckled Gilbert. “They’re your sisters, what do you think?” 

“Oh, Lord,” Skinner said, rubbing his forehead. “How did they know she was here?” He looked over at his dad, who merely lifted one shoulder. “Mama,” he sighed as Gilbert nodded. “Does EVERYbody think I’m some kind of mental deficient who can take care of his own life, they all have to jump in and meddle where they don’t belong?” 

“You’re her baby boy, Walter, she’s only doing what a mama does, protecting you from calculating women.” 

“She’s not calculating,” muttered Skinner. “What they say to her? What did she do?” 

“I’m not rightly sure what Roxanne and Michelle said to her, but I do know she stood up to them, nose-to-nose and didn’t back down.” 

Skinner snorted, “I bet she didn’t. After some of the things she’s been through during her career, I doubt seriously if two middle-aged women instill very much fear in her.” 

“She is a pistol,” agreed Gilbert. “Called’em the Wicked Witches of the East and West.” The old man chuckled, “You should’ve seen their faces.” 

Skinner laughed softly. “I bet it was a sight.” 

“Too bad you had to run off and miss all the fun. ‘Course, if you had been here, she wouldn’t have had to face them alone. But, then you’re pretty good at running away from her, aren’t you?” 

“I wasn’t running away from her,” Skinner said sadly. “I…I had things to do.” Skinner leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together. 

Gilbert watched as his son’s thoughts turned inward. 

“How long she been married? You’re mama told me, but I forgot.” 

Skinner knew his father forgot nothing. “Beginning of October. Three, three and half months, something like that.” 

“You were best man, right?” 

“Jesus, does Mama tell everything she knows?” said Skinner with an exasperated chuckle. “Exactly how many people has she told?” 

“Not many,” said Gilbert. “Just me, your sisters, the Associated Press, and the National Enquirer.” 

“I wish I’d kept my mouth shut.” 

“No, Lord, no,” exclaimed Gilbert. “She would have driven us all crazy trying to figure out what was wrong. Best she knows about it so she don’t worry herself sick. She loves you, Walter, and she only wants you to be happy. And she feels that this young woman is what’s making you very UNhappy right now.” 

Gilbert waited for his son to say something. 

“But it’s not necessarily this Ms. Scully that’s making you miserable, is it? You’re more upset with yourself for not telling her earlier that you love her, right? Because if you had, she probably wouldn’t have married.” 

Walter Skinner remained silent. 

“Why didn’t you tell her? And I don’t mean right before her wedding either; I mean why didn’t you tell her years ago?” 

“This is not a conversation I’m wanting to have right now, Daddy.” Skinner stood up; “I’m tired and want to go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. 

“Why did she get married to, what’s her husband’s name?…if she’s so in love with you?” 

“Mulder, his name is Mulder. And she’s not in love with me. She…I’m just a friend.” Skinner started to walk towards the stairs. 

“Not according to what she told your sisters.” Gilbert smiled slightly as his son stopped dead in his tracks. “I heard her.” 

“She did not,” said Skinner. 

“You callin’ me a liar, boy?” 

“No, sir, I’m not. I just don’t think you heard right. Or maybe you misunderstood. She must have meant…” 

“Nope, I know what I heard. She said she loved you, but she did seem a bit put out with the fact that you never told her you loved her. Said if you had, she wouldn’t be stuck in a deteriorating marriage, I think those were her words. Called you a coward, and that you needed to take some responsibility for what’s happened to both of you.” 

Again Gilbert waited for his son to answer. 

“Why didn’t you tell her?” 

Skinner shrugged, “It wouldn’t have made any difference at the time. She was so sure that Mulder was her one true love, that I doubt I would have been able to convince her otherwise. And if I had, she might have always wondered if she made a mistake not marrying him in the first place. I’ve been in his shadow for too long; I didn’t want him to always be there between us, like an ugly secret that we both know but never talk about.” 

“So, you let her marry this guy, and now she’s finding out that it’s not what she wanted? Doesn’t that make her a little…shallow? She doesn’t seem that kind of person.” 

“She’s not. I don’t think she’s the one having a hard time accepting what marriage is. According to Monica, Ms. Reyes, it’s Mulder who is paying less than full attention.” 

“So, this could be your perfect opportunity to step in and rescue her from her misery. Is that why she came out here, in the hope that you would?” 

“I don’t think so,” said Skinner shaking his head. 

“What do you think she’s going to do?” 

“Go back to Washington, back to Mulder. She’ll do what she can to make the marriage work, no matter what. And who knows? In a few years Mulder may come to his senses and realize what a prize he’s got and begin to be husband she deserves.” 

“What about you?” Gilbert stood as his son began to climb the stairs. 

“Me? I’ll become a crotchety old man, just like my Daddy, and drive the witches to distraction.” 

January drifted into February and Mulder was gone for both Valentine’s Day and her birthday. When he was in town he usually worked late into the night at his office. She slowly gave up trying to be a wife; he had no interest in her work, her life, or their marriage. 
The few nights he did come home to sleep, he would creep carefully into bed so as not to rouse her from sleep. She would waken in the morning to find him lying close to the edge of the bed, snoring gently. Once or twice she had felt him lie down and had scooted over next to him and put her arm around him, gently kissing his neck. He had responded to her caresses and they had made love. But he had been almost mechanical, as if he were only doing it to pacify her. He never initiated sex, in fact seldom touched her at all. There were no embraces, no kisses, and no loving looks. 

After a while she gave up even hoping that he’d suddenly remember they were married. They lived together, shared the rent, the utilities, the groceries, but nothing of themselves. Scully threw herself into her work as a means of forgetting the loneliness that gripped her when she went home. She began to stay late at the pathology lab, skipping meals, closing herself off from people. 

By Memorial Day Monica was seriously worried about her friend. Scully had lost so much weight her clothes were beginning to hang on her. She still took a sort of modest pride in the way she looked, always wearing make-up and her hair clean and shiny. But the sadness in her eyes broke Monica’s heart. 

“John, I need to do something,” she said as she sat on the edge of her desk. She had just returned from a rare lunch date with Scully. “I think I’m going to e-mail Walter Skinner.” 

“No, you’re not,” John ordered. “You can’t interfere in this, Monica. You don’t know how she’d feel if you told Skinner everything that’s happened.” 

“I can’t let her waste away! She looks like a strong gust of wind would blow her down. Stupid Mulder, this is all his fault!” 

“Not entirely,” reasoned John. “Skinner had plenty of time to make his intentions known. He didn’t, so he lost out. Mulder’s an idiot, I agree, but she’s married to him and until she gets good and fed up with the way he’s treating her and decides to do something, you need to stay out of it.” 

“She won’t,” said Monica sadly. “She’ll stay in that…that loveless marriage because she thinks that’s what she needs to do. As if somehow through sheer force of will she’ll make Mulder start acting like a husband. You know,” she fumed, “why doesn’t he just…just leave for good? Divorce her and go off on his globe-trotting expeditions and let her get on with her life.” 

John went to sit beside her on the edge of the desk. “I’m gonna tell you something, and I swear you’d better never tell Dana.” 

“I swear,” Monica said softly, her heart beating rapidly. For John Doggett to be this serious, it couldn’t be good. 

“A month or so back, Mulder came in here and visited a while.” 

“Where was I?” interrupted Monica. 

“I don’t know, you had taken the afternoon off for some reason. Anyway, he and I talked a long time. You know, what cases we were investigating, the work he was doing, that kind of stuff. After a while, I asked him how Dana was and he kinda shrugged. Said with him traveling so much, he didn’t see her a lot. 

“I asked him how he liked married life and he…well, he laughed a little and said he hadn’t realized how…how suffocating it would be. Now, Monica, don’t get upset!” 

“That..that B*STARD!” she shouted. John put his hand on her arm and she jerked it away. “What the hell did he expect? Marriage isn’t just a…a joining of two bodies, it’s two LIVES that are supposed to become one!” 

“I…uh…I tried to tell him that. He said he knew that on a conscious level, but when she started talking about moving into a bigger place, maybe buying a house, that he realized the…permanency and…and responsibility of marriage. Suddenly he had to think of another person and how what he did would impact her. Like…like leaving and not telling her where he was going; or taking an interest in her work.” 

“Because always before it was just HIS work that mattered, his cases, his theories, and as long as they worked together on them, things were fine. What a selfish prick! John, he’s 40 years old, doesn’t he think it’s time he grew up and thought of someone else besides himself?” 

“He is a poster boy for arrested development,” sighed John. “He asked me if the reason Barbara and I divorced was because I felt closed in. I told him no, that our divorce was a result of Luke’s death and the guilt we both shared. Then, he asked me if I would ever consider getting married again.” He straightened up and moved directly in front of Monica. 

She looked into his face, her heart beating rapidly. “What…what did you say?” she whispered. 

“I said, in a heart beat.” He took her face in his hands and broke one of the cardinal rules they had set up. She closed her eyes as he carefully kissed her eyelids, then her nose, before brushing her lips with his. She slipped her hands inside his jacket and gripped his shirt tightly on either side of his waist. 

“I thought we agreed…” she said against his lips. 

His answer was to wrap his arms around her and kiss her deeply. A small moan stuck in her throat as she pressed against him. 

The phone rang and she reached back to answer it, fumbling the receiver as John released her slightly. 

“Monica Reyes,” she mumbled as she licked her lips, savoring his taste. She turned around until her back was against his chest. “Hello? Who is this?” She twisted her shoulders to stop John from kissing her neck. “Dana? Dana, is that you? What’s wrong? 

John wrapped his arms around her waist and tilted his head down so he could hear the voice on the receiver. Monica held the phone slightly away from her ear. The only sound coming from the receiver was muffled sobs. 

“Dana, stop crying! What’s happened!” 

They listened while Scully cried for a few moments, her sobs finally slowing enough to speak. 

“It’s..it’s Mulder. He’s left.” 

“Again! Where’d he go this time? Honey, he’s one on these trips before, what’s the problem this time?” 

“No, Monica!” said Scully in exasperation, her sobs making it difficult to talk. “He’s LEFT, as in good-bye, adios, see you in another life. The b*stard left me a four page note explaining how difficult he found marriage, and that he thought WE might have made a mistake jumping into something neither of us was ready for. JUMPED into it? After nine years?” 

“At least he left a note,” said Monica. 

“Oh, yeah, a note. How wonderful! What a coward! He couldn’t face me himself so he explains everything in a rambling letter he wrote on MY goddamned computer. Then he took all of his things. Oh, I’m sorry, no he didn’t. He left his wedding ring. As if I wanted it.” 

“I’m coming over, Dana. I’ll…I’ll be there in a little bit. You’re at home, right?” 

The women hung up and Monica started towards the office door. “I’ll…I’ll call you later, John. I can’t let her be alone right now.” 

“No problem,” he said as he came over to her. “I’d expect you to go. Give her my love, okay? Even though she might not want it right now. Not from me or from any man.” 

“I will,” Monica said as she walked out the door. Suddenly she stuck her head back around the doorjamb. “John? Um, I…uh…” 

“I love you, too, Monica.” 

It was July before they located Mulder and served him with the divorce papers. Then it took another two months before they were finalized. At last though, Scully was free of him and her friends began to hope that she would now start to live her life again. 
But the divorce had been more devastating to her than anyone realized. The man who had been such an important part of her life for so long had rejected her in the cruelest of ways. His leaving made her feel as if there were something so wrong with her that no man could possibly ever love her. He self-esteem had been battered so severely that she withdrew even deeper into herself. Her life now centered around work, her mother, and Mass, which she attended almost daily. 

She was in church one late afternoon in October. It was the anniversary of the day Mulder had proposed and she was kneeling on one of the pew kneel-rails, thinking back to that day when she heard the slow footsteps of someone walking down the center aisle. It was someone who had a limp, she could hear the thump of a cane and one foot being dragged slightly. She didn’t look up, but laid her head on her folded hands. The person moved hesitantly into the pew behind her, struggling with the rail, trying to lift it. She heard a grunt as the rail fell and hit the person’s foot. 

She got up and without raising her head, went around to help the man get comfortable on the pew. She lifted the rail and waited while the man sat down. She stared at his feet; one was in a cowboy boot, the other in a walking cast, his toes sticking out of the plaster. He was wearing jeans that had been cut along the seam to accommodate the cast. 

“Thank you,” said a deep voice and she looked up quickly into the soft brown eyes of Walter Skinner. She covered her mouth with her hands. 

“Sit down, Dana, before you fall down.” He scooted over and she slowly lowered herself onto the pew. “You look terrible,” he said as he shook his head. “You’re so thin, and you look like you don’t sleep at all.” 

“Wh..what are you…how…who?” Her brain was churning out questions faster than she could articulate them. 

“Who, what, when, where, why, how.. You should be in the newspaper business,” he said without smiling. 

Her appearance shocked him and his happiness at seeing her had been tempered. “Let’s see if I can answer them. Who? Monica Reyes. She e-mailed me when your divorce was final, but unfortunately I had a run in with an unhappy steer and my leg was broken. It’s fine, thanks for asking,” he teased when she didn’t say anything. “I should have the cast off in a month or so.” 

She swallowed and nodded her head as if she really understood what he was telling her. The sight of him had made rational thought impossible. All she could do was stare at him. 

“When? I got here about an hour ago. How did I know you were here? Your mother. I called her and she said you usually came here to St. Catherine’s in the afternoon after work. I…I figured you’d be here, especially today.” His hands gripped the crook of his cane tightly. “I…I remembered what today was, and I thought…” He cleared his throat. “Where am I staying? John’s letting me bunk with him while I’m here. What am I doing here?” He shrugged, “I’m not sure. I’m hoping to find that out myself. Why am I here? Do you really want to know?” 

Her eyes raked his face, taking in every feature. He was wearing new glasses, he had a small scar on his jaw near his right ear, he was as lean as he was the last time she saw him, his shirt was opened at the throat and she could see a strong pulse beating near his collarbone. She looked up startled when he asked her again. 

“Yes,” she whispered. 

“Over the past year I have been accused of being a coward more times than I can count. I came to set the record straight.” 

“You’re not a coward,” she started. 

“Yes, I am. And because of it, you have suffered. If I had been a big, bad, brave assistant director like everyone thought, I would have told you long ago how much I love you. But I was too afraid of being hurt that I just kept quiet. So, I tried to rationalize by saying that you had to get over Mulder before I could make any kind of declaration. And so, instead of going with my heart, I let my head lead the way and watched while you became someone else’s wife. And then, I ran off because I was afraid to stick around and face the fact that you and Mulder might be happy. I should have stayed.” 

“No, it’s probably best you didn’t,” she said, finding her voice at last. “If you had been here, I might have found it too easy to run to you when things were difficult. By then, I knew you loved me, and…and I knew that I loved you. Can you imagine how confused I would have been? I would have wondered if my marriage failed because of my feelings for you. This way, I was able to block you completely from my mind and concentrate solely on trying to build a life with Mulder. The marriage failed for lots of reasons, but not because of you.” 

She wanted to reach out and stroke his face, but she clasped her hands in her lap instead. 

“It was a hard lesson to learn,” she said, shrugging her shoulder. “I don’t ever want to go through something like that again. Next time,” she tilted her head slightly, “next time I want to make sure both parties involved understand what goes into a marriage and that both are willing to do everything possible to make it work.” 

“Good idea,” said Skinner. “Then, you’re not averse to trying it again? Sometime in the future, I mean.” 

“A long time in the future,” she stressed. “I want to take it slow and make sure I’m not going to jump into some kind of re-bound relationship. Maybe…maybe I’ll date for a while.” She watched his face for his reaction. 

He creased his forehead, “Yeah, yeah, that might be a good…good idea. You don’t want to…” He stopped and the wrinkles deepened. “Bullsh*t!” 

“Shush, Walter! We’re in church!” She put her fingertips over his lips, but he shook his head. 

“No! Listen to me, Dana!” he said, his voice ringing in the sanctuary. “I love you and you God-damn,” 

Her eyes widened in shock and he lowered his voice. 

“…and you know it! And you love me, too, for the love of Christ! I’ve wasted too much time waiting for you to say it to me. I’m not waiting any longer. I love you, Dana. There, I’ve said it. Before God,” he pointed to the ceiling, “Jesus,” his finger moved towards the Crucifix hanging above the altar, “Mary,” he jerked his head towards a statue of the Virgin in an alcove, “and that statue over there, whoever she is.” 

“St. Catherine,” said Scully as she tried to keep from laughing. 

“Her, too, then. So, what else do I have to do?” 

“Shut up,” she said as she leaned forward to kiss him. 

“Ahem!” came an indignant voice in the aisle. “Please! You’re in a church!” 

Scully looked up and smiled at the elderly woman glaring at them. 

“I’m sorry, Sister. It’s just that…” she stopped and grinned. “What’s your name, Sister?” 

“Sister Bernadette. Why?” 

Scully stood up and cleared her throat. “Sister Bernadette, I just want to announce before you and God and all the saints and martyrs that I, Dana Katherine Scully, love this man with all my heart.” 

Skinner’s mouth fell open. Her declaration made his look insignificant. 

“Well, God bless you, my child. That’s wonderful,” smiled the sister. “But, take it outside, okay?” Sister Bernadette sniffed and continued down the aisle towards the altar. 

“Okay,” said Scully softly. 

She helped Skinner to stand, then negotiate the long walk to the exterior of the church. Once outside, under a bright October second quarter moon, Walter Sergei Skinner and Dana Katherine Scully shared their first real kiss, the first of many. And over the years they returned each October to St. Catherine’s to renew their declaration in front of God, Sister Bernadette, Jesus, the Virgin, and the little saint in the corner. 

The End