Deja Vu
by Cadillac Red
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and Walter Skinner et al do not belong to me; they belong to Chris Carter and Fox. I mean no harm and will make no money from their use.
Spoilers: None to speak of.
Setting: Seventh Season.
Rating: PG. Discipline, no slash.
Author's note: I usually don't do this but . . . this one's been a long time coming. I started it last year and it wasn't supposed to have any discipline. But I'm a one-trick pony . . . and there were a lot of friendly Persuaders who lobbied hard! Much thanks to Phoebe for all her help and great research that filled in the back story. And for encouraging me to finally finish this one. Thanks also to Victoria for the Russian name I've been planning to use since she suggested it last year. There's a scene at the end that answers an oft-repeated request from Xanthe. And it ends where it does because, well, Allison wrote the definitive scene in this class as far as I'm concerned!
Summary: Secrets from the past are suddenly revealed - and the Skinner brothers and Fox will all be tested before it's over.
Opening Day at Camden Yards
April 2000
The Orioles were up in the bottom of the eighth as Joe Skinner returned with four cups of hot coffee.
"Jeez, I don't remember opening days being this cold," he grumbled. "What happened to Spring?"
"Oh, you're just in a bad mood because Mikey couldn't make it," his brother Walter laughed as he took a hot cup.
"Yeah, you always take Michael to opening day, what happened?" Andy asked, accepting a cup and passing it over to Fox before taking one for himself.
"Well, let's just say Michael's serving what's likely to be a very long punishment tour," Joe responded grimly. "I don't even want to tell you how fast he was driving when he got pulled over last weekend. It's lucky for him he has a spotless driving record up to now. Otherwise he could have lost his license-"
"Lucky for him he's got a Skinner father," the AD said. "Otherwise, I don't know if he'd be able to lay claim to a 'spotless driving record!' Most teenage boys can't!"
"Well, that's the truth," Andy laughed. "That fact certainly kept me on the straight and narrow-" He stopped, seeing the strange looks his brothers and Fox were giving him. "Well, as straight and narrow as I ever get anyway!"
"Yeah, Andy. From what I've heard that's not very straight. Or very narrow," Fox responded, shaking his head.
Andy gave him a grin that spoke volumes.
"Well, we can't all be like Walter," Joe added, taking the lid off his coffee cup. "Perfect kids."
"I don't think I can lay claim to having been perfect," Skinner answered with a knowing smile. "Not getting caught much, that I take credit for."
"You did things you didn't get caught for," Mulder interjected immediately. "Like what?"
"Driving before he had his license, that's one I remember," Andy responded. "A couple of times when Mom and Dad were out for the night, before Walter had his license, he and his friend Coop snuck out with Mom's car and drove around, then brought it back just before the folks came home-"
"That's enough, Andy," Skinner chuckled. "If I want Fox to know all about those transgressions, I'll be the one to tell him!"
Andy closed his mouth. But he couldn't keep it shut. "Did you ever tell Dad about that?" he asked, suddenly curious as to whether his brother had 'fessed up yet.
"No," Skinner told him, shooting him an exasperated look. "But I could. . . . I mean, I don't think he'd hit me now."
There was a moment of silence, then Joe, Andy and Fox began to chuckle, each trying to hide their skepticism but failing miserably.
"I could tell him now," Skinner protested. Then another possible outcome hit him and he shifted gears. "But let's not test that theory. This stays between us, agreed?"
The Assistant Director chose to ignore the laughter of his brothers and Fox as he picked up the program. "Who's up next anyway?" he said, frowning impatiently.
Hoover Office Building
Friday, April 21
10:46 a.m.
Special Agent Fox Mulder opened the door to A.D. Skinner's conference room carefully, sidled in and immediately closed it behind him. He'd determined, by accessing the electronic calendar program, that Skinner had been due in a management meeting at 10:30 but he wanted to be careful, just in case. He also wanted to avoid seeing the A.D.'s assistant, Kim, so he was sneaking in through the conference room, if it was empty. Which it was. (So far, so good, Mulder!)
The young agent couldn't afford to run into the A.D. or his assistant. He had to leave this report without being seen, then high-tail it out of the building. He had failed to call Skinner the night before, as was their prearranged deal. Except when he stayed in the McLean house, Mulder had fallen back into the habit of speaking with the older man each evening, sharing details of his day and any small transgressions or behavioral missteps with Skinner. The calls were mostly just to give Mulder a sense of connectedness but Skinner expected him to share any problems or mistakes he'd made as well. And lately, he'd done as asked. Thankfully, Mulder's recent behavior had been exemplary so their phone conversations were mostly pleasant chances to wind down after a work day.
But yesterday, Mulder knew, his behavior would have warranted a confession, and punishment. Definitely punishment. And Mulder knew Skinner would have heard the details from the A.D. in charge of Quantico so there was no hope he could escape the inevitable. But this weekend was an important one, he and the Gunmen had plans to attend a conference about what really happened in Roswell, New Mexico in 1947. It promised some former military types who'd actually been there and Mulder just had to get to the conference. So he needed to hold out, not see or speak with Skinner, until after the weekend. Then he'd confess his sins and take whatever discipline the Assistant Director chose to hand out, willingly. (Well, maybe I won't be doing the happy dance. . . but I'll show up.)
Taking no chances, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open a crack, trying to be certain the room was empty. It wasn't and he almost banged the door closed in shock. It was Skinner! Talking with CGB Spender! Mulder forced himself to remain still, holding the door open just enough to be able to see into the room. And hear the stilted, stressed dialogue between the two men.
"--cooperation we need from you, Mr. Skinner. We haven't asked much in recent years. But now that situation has changed." The Cigarette Smoking Man finished his statement, only to have Skinner turn on him violently.
"And you'll get no more cooperation from me. I told you that years ago. And again when he was finally returned to adulthood. Nothing has changed," Skinner ground out between gritted teeth. Mulder thought he looked like a coiled python about to spring.
Spender smirked. "Really, Mr. Skinner. There's no need for this kind of acrimony. We have . . . . let's call them 'complementary interests,' shall we? To protect certain secrets--"
"I don't share any interests with you," Skinner exploded. "Now get out of my office!"
The other man made no move, other than to raise a cigarette to his lips and take a long drag on it. Exhaling smoke, he grinned evilly. "I would tend to disagree with that assessment. There are secrets--"
"I paid for your silence years ago," Skinner ground out. "More than I should have. Now you have nothing to threaten me with. . . . I destroyed the evidence, all of it--"
"Oh, Mr. Skinner, you surprise me. Documents can be copied. Computer disks, too. Copies can be made to look like originals--"
Skinner stared at him, unblinking. "So you're saying your . . . word means nothing. Have you no honor at all?"
The Cigarette Smoking Man took another long drag as he spoke, then blew a stream of smoke as he replied cryptically. "And there's so much honor in espionage. And treason. Is that your argument?"
Skinner started at his words, obviously trying to contain his emotions. Mulder saw him turn toward the window, then heard him speak in a low, dangerous growl. "Get the hell out of my office. And if you ever come back, I'll kill you."
"I'll give you time to reconsider," Spender said calmly. "It would be a real shame if anything happened to the Skrynnik family after all these years, wouldn't it?" He stood there a moment while Skinner's head swiveled to the side and the AD glared at him with contained rage. In a moment, Spender left through the door to the anteroom where Kim worked.
Neither man had noticed the adjacent conference room was slightly open. Skinner turned his head back to the window and Mulder silently pulled it closed again. He waited in the conference room for a few minutes, unsure what to do now, or what to make of what he'd just overheard. He didn't want to speak to the A.D. now about what he'd done yesterday and he didn't wish to tell Skinner he'd eavesdropped--ever!.
But his curiosity was whetted to the point he couldn't put this off. The prospect of Skinner's anger loomed menacingly, but the idea of old CGB attempting to blackmail the A.D. far outweighed it in Mulder's mind. He exited the conference room, then came back into the A.D.'s office through the reception area. Kim announced him and he went in, closing the door behind him. Skinner was still standing at the window.
"Sir?"
"Mulder, I'm sorry. Did we have an appointment?" He remained at the window, motionless.
"No, I-- I wanted to bring you this report I owe you. And I thought you might want to . . . see me."
"Just put it on the desk, Mulder. I'll get to it as soon as I can." Skinner was clearly distracted. He didn't seem to even recall that he'd received an angry phone call from A.D. Kendall regarding Mulder just the night before. Part of Mulder was relieved but another part grew more worried. It was unlike the other man to lose sight of his . . . 'deal' with Mulder to ride herd on the younger agent's behavior. Especially now, when they'd both come to terms with the father-son relationship that had grown between them. Something powerfully important must be at stake here.
"Sir? Are you all right?" Mulder asked, coming up behind him. "If there's anything you want to . . . talk about--"
Skinner finally resurfaced, at least a little. He jammed his hands in his pockets and turned, surprised to find Mulder right behind him. "No, Fox. I . . . just have some things on my mind. Nothing for you to worry about. . . ."
"Well, if I can help--"
"No! You cannot help with this!" Skinner replied forcefully, before realizing his response would seem out of proportion to the other man's offer of assistance. "No, really. It's something . . . personal. Not something I want you to get involved in, or worry about. Just have a good weekend, okay? And I'll see you on Monday."
Mulder was reluctant to leave, but he had nowhere to go with this conversation unless he wanted to admit he'd been eavesdropping from the other room. Or remind Skinner about his transgression at Quantico the day before. He hesitated a few seconds more but no other idea came to his mind so he nodded and left, as instructed.
Mulder was staring at his computer screen when his cell phone rang a half hour later. He thought briefly about not answering but the caller ID function indicated it was Scully. "Hi."
"Mulder, it's me," Dana Scully answered. "Where are you?"
"In the office," he replied distractedly, rapidly hitting keys on his computer and trying to find some shred of information that made sense.
"Well, you're supposed to be here, Mulder. Finishing up this class with me."
"There's only a half day of class today anyway, Scully," he answered. "I think you can handle the wrap-up without me. And I really think A.D. Kendall is probably jumping with joy that I didn't show up again today."
"Well, you certainly pushed all of his buttons, Mulder, that's for sure. He was not exactly thrilled to have you tell a class of new recruits that the rule book provides usable guidance only about 30% of the time. And I'm sure he was even less happy when you proceeded to argue the point with him, in front of his new recruits," she sighed. "I'm sure you know by now he was on the phone to Skinner before your car was out of the parking lot last night."
"Well, I saw the A.D. this morning, and he didn't mention it," Mulder said. "And if I'm lucky, I won't see him again till he has a few days to cool down. Remember, I told you the Gunmen and I are going to that conference. . . ."
Scully thought the conference was a ridiculous waste of time and money, but she refrained from telling that to her partner, again. She was too shocked to hear their boss hadn't even mentioned Mulder's actions of the day before. That was decidedly out of character for a man who took his role as Mulder's boss and mentor as seriously as she knew Skinner did. She opened her mouth to question his story but he cut her off.
"Ever heard the name 'Skrynnik,' Scully?" he asked suddenly.
"Skrynnik? No, why, Mulder?"
"Nothing. Just something I'm trying to check out. I'll talk to you later," he said, disconnecting before she could get another word out. He returned to the computer screen and moved on to the next database. So far, he'd found several names with spellings that looked like they'd be pronounced Skrynnik. But nothing, and no one, jumped out at him as being connected to the A.D., or the FBI, or that Cancer-Smoking S.O.B.
At 1:30, his cell phone rang again. He checked the caller ID and saw the call was coming from a Washington, D.C. number. He thought it might be the Gunmen calling to check on their plans for the weekend. "Mulder."
"Hi, Mulder!" a voice responded cheerily. "It's Andy. My afternoon meeting was canceled and I'm already in the district. I've got a free afternoon and I can't seem to reach my brother. He's apparently out of the office. So I thought I'd try you. Any chance you can get away for a late lunch?"
Mulder checked his watch, frowning at that bit of news. Skinner should still be in the management meeting, which was being held in the building. And Kim was unlikely to give Skinner's brother incorrect information about his whereabouts. He still hadn't found anything that would give him a clue as to what had happened between Skinner and CGB Spender this morning. And now it was like a nagging toothache, he had to get it resolved. And he had told the Gunmen he'd meet them at 5 o'clock.
"I don't know, Andy," he replied hastily. "I'm in the middle of something. Where are you?"
"Down the street. Can you get away for a little while at least?"
He was about to beg off when a thought hit him and he decided to ask, just on the off chance Andy might know something. "Does the name 'Skrynnik' mean anything to you, Andy?"
Dead silence came back in reply. "Andy? Are you still there? Andy?"
Another 30 seconds passed, and all Mulder could hear was Andy's breathing. "Wh-where . . . did you hear that name, Mulder?" he finally replied, his voice shaky.
Mulder knew he'd touched a nerve. "I'll tell you when I see you. Be there in five minutes, Andy. Wait for me."
The Ambassador Grill
2:05 p.m.
Andy and Mulder were seated in the grill room. The waiter had left menus and taken their drink orders. Mulder asked for an iced tea, but Andy ordered a 'whiskey-neat. And hurry, please.' Mulder was certain he'd caused whatever distress the A.D.'s youngest brother was manifesting.
"What's the name 'Skrynnik' mean to you, Andy?" he asked when the waiter stepped away.
"Where did you hear that?" Andy responded immediately. "Did Walter tell you something?"
Mulder was torn about what to tell the other man, and how much to tell him. He had a feeling he was walking into a minefield, blind and wearing snowshoes. He would die before he'd place Andy, or anyone in the Skinner family in danger. But there was something here he had to know. Something the Cigarette Smoking bastard was using to try to blackmail the A.D.
"There's a man we know, not someone anyone would want to know," Mulder answered truthfully but without much detail. "He was in your brother's office today and I overheard him . . . threaten that some harm might come to the 'Skrynnik family' if the A.D. didn't cooperate. That's all I know now. But I think I need to know more to help."
The waiter returned with their drinks and Andy immediately downed his and asked for another. The waiter cocked an eyebrow and disappeared. Andy didn't speak at first, appearing to conduct some kind of internal debate with himself.
"I wish Walter was here. Or Joe," he said finally. "This isn't the kind of decision . . . But you're family. I can tell you, I guess. It's just it's not something we've ever told anyone other than family, Mulder. I mean, I never told Eileen. We don't even discuss it among ourselves . . . ." he trailed off. The waiter placed another whiskey in front of him, then looked at both men to see if they were going to order any food. Concluding they were not, he left without another word.
Andy began spinning the glass in front of him nervously. "Maybe I should speak to Walter first," he said tentatively. "I just don't want to make a mistake--"
"Andy, you can trust me. And besides, he didn't appear to be in any frame of mind to be making major decisions today. This man I told you about, upset him. A lot."
Andy sighed. "I imagine any mention of this would upset him. Or any of us. All right." He pressed his lips together tightly, then sighed again. He took a sip of whiskey and began to speak.
"Did you know my parents were both born in Russia, Mulder?"
When Mulder looked surprised, he smiled ironically. "Couldn't tell, right? Because they have no accents. As a matter of fact, their accents are pure middle America. That's because they were well trained, you see. . . "
(Well trained? What the hell does that mean?) Mulder found his stomach starting to turn somersaults.
Andy began to chronicle how his father's family was smuggled into the United States in the 1930's, when he was seven years old. His parents were laced here as 'sleeper agents' by the Soviet government. To be activated at some point in the future when they would be needed. With real shame, Andy admitted the AD's grandparents had been actively involved in low-level espionage. And they raised their son to join the family trade.
Young Valdimir Skrynnik took another name when he arrived and grew up as normally as possible in Cleveland, Ohio. He went to school as an American and lived as an American through the thirties and into the early 1940's. He was never called on to spy but he was aware of what his parents did. The Skinner grandparents, or rather the Skrynnik grandparents, assumed their son would follow them into the family business when his time came.
"When the war broke out, my Dad was eighteen, Fox," Andy said. "He . . . joined right up. His homeland was under siege by the Nazis, you see, and he wanted to do his part. His parents . . . supported his decision. But when he got into the Marines, he . . . found himself having a change of heart. When he returned from the war in 1945, his father had died while he was away. And his mother passed on about two years later. My Dad was studying at the University of Chicago then--."
"Your Dad has a degree?" Mulder asked. He'd always thought Mr. Skinner was an intelligent man for a steelworker.
"Yes," Andy laughed. "He's an astrophysicist, actually-"
"What?"
Andy sighed. "He . . . tried to get back into his parents way of thinking after the war. Their 'handlers' were the only family he had in this country but something had changed for him during the war. He . . . thought of himself as an American now. When he graduated, he took a job doing research for the government, for the Department of Defense. And he tried to put all of the other stuff behind him. He thought he could just choose to leave."
"But the Soviets would never have allowed that," Mulder said lowly. "Not if they had a resource in that part of our government-"
"Exactly. They sent my mother to him, to try to 'woo him back,' I guess," Andy continued. "She had come here as a young girl. She learned English quickly and they plucked her out of her school and groomed her for espionage. She met my father at the University, too-"
"Don't tell me she's an astrophysicist, too," Mulder interrupted.
"No," Andy smiled sadly. "She's a cultural anthropologist . . . . Neither of them was ever able to work in their fields again, for fear of being discovered. . . ."
Mulder was stunned by the story. He'd believed that Mr. Skinner was a steelworker. And Mrs. Skinner a housewife. Who had once been a teacher. And he'd heard of 'sleeper agents' but never in a million years had he ever considered . . . . He was finding it impossible to reconcile this information with the couple he knew, with the family he'd come to think of as his own.
"They fell in love. And somehow my father's beliefs, his strong opinions about everything, well, my mother came to accept them, too. They got married and began to think of themselves as regular Americans after a while. They were living in New Mexico. With neighbors, and a house and a mortgage."
"Finally, in 1951 I think, someone came and tried to activate them. My Dad was told to begin supplying information, specs, schedules, personnel reports, whatever he could get his hands on, to his Russian contact. You know my Dad. His. . . conscience just wouldn't allow him to do it. He had come to doubt the things the Soviet government taught about the United States. The evidence all around him was just so contrary to what he'd been taught. And he wanted to put all of that behind him, and make a new life for himself and my mother. And their child. By then, my mother had discovered she was pregnant, you see. She was . . . more reluctant to leave everything behind, not so much out of patriotism as loyalty to her family who remained in Russia. She was . . . torn between them and her husband and child. She thought perhaps they could just return to Russia."
Andy paused and took a final sip of whiskey, downing it and running the back of his hand over his lips. Mulder caught a look from the waiter, questioning whether to bring another one but the FBI agent shook his head to indicate he should not. He needed Andy sober enough to tell the rest of this story.
"My mother confided in one of their 'runners,' someone she'd grown to trust. That she was pregnant. And that my father was not willing to cooperate. She thought that would get them sent home. But my father's position was just too important to their plans. So a high-level guy came to my parent's home and threatened to place my mother's family in a prison camp back in Russia, unless my father did as he was told. And they told them that having a child was not in the plans so they'd better find a way to end the pregnancy. My father was incensed, Mulder. At them. And at my mother. He left, and didn't return for several days apparently. My mother was distraught and the higher ups in their cell began to fear my father wasn't coming back at all. So they sent someone for my mother, to take her as a hostage, leverage to hold over my father. Only my Dad returned while the man was there with my mother. He was pointing a gun at her, at his pregnant wife. He'd hurt her a little, to gain her cooperation, or frighten her. I guess now that I have a wife and kids I really understand how my Dad must have felt. There was a fight and . . . . " Andy stopped, picked up the empty glass, then put it back down when he realized there was no whiskey in it.
"Did your father kill the man?" Mulder asked quietly.
Andy hesitated, then nodded. "My parents left him there. They took only what they could carry with them and left. Never looking back until they got to the Russian community in Pennsylvania. They knew no one there, had never been there before. But my father reasoned that it was one of the last places that the Russians would look for them, right in the heart of a Russian American community. They 'hid in plain sight,' if you will. They dropped their original American aliases. Vladimir and Raisa Skrynnik became Walter and Rachel Skinner. My brother was born a few months later. Then Jean and Joe and me and Jeremy. And until now, no one ever knew how it all began."
Mulder was still shocked by the story, and all of its ramifications. Skinner's grandparents had been spies. Had spied on behalf of the Soviet government. Had committed espionage against the United States. His mind raced with questions. But one thing he knew that Andy did not. The Skrynnik's story had been discovered earlier, at least a few years earlier. Because the A.D. had clearly been blackmailed over this before. And had cooperated with that Cigarette Smoking bastard to protect his family. A part of Mulder's brain registered that Skinner's cooperation had somehow been connected with Mulder and the X-files, but he didn't have the psychic strength to probe that avenue right now.
"So. Now you know, Mulder. I hope it doesn't . . . change anything. And I'm sorry we didn't tell you before. My folks were honest with us about it when we got old enough to know. In case it ever came back to haunt them. I doubt Walter told Sharon. And I know Nora and Oliver don't know either. It's been a major secret in our family." He seemed to be waiting to hear what Mulder planned to do next.
Mulder sat in stunned silence. He had met Skinner's ex-wife once, and Sharon had told him and Scully that her husband was 'good at keeping secrets.' He wondered how much keeping this one had cost the Assistant Director, and all of his family. But his personal loyalty to the Skinner family, for all they'd done for him, was not shaken. "I'm sorry you had to tell me, Andy," he said, with sincere conviction. "But I promise, it will go no further. You can count on that."
"I believe that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have told you. But I don't know what happens next. I guess I have to speak to Walter. He's the one who's caught in it. Maybe we should just go see him--"
Mulder's stomach turned a complete somersault at this prospect. "I. . . can't exactly do that," he said, trying to come up with some reason that wouldn't sound suspect.
But Andy recognized the look and the behavior. "Are you in trouble again, Fox?"
"Why do you have to make it sound like this is a regular thing, huh? I haven't been in any trouble for--" He looked into Andy's eyes and recognized he probably couldn't sneak one by the A.D.'s brother. "-- for at least a week. . . . It's just that, the way I 'overheard' this conversation might piss him off. Although, my eavesdropping on him will probably far outweigh any other trouble I may have gotten into. . . . " He sounded hopeful, but not exactly convinced.
"Well, this is a hotel," Andy said. "They've got plenty of rooms. With telephones. Let's get one, then we can call and speak with him. That way you won't have to come into physical contact. Besides, he's probably too wound up by all of this to even be thinking about whatever you've done." Andy rose and dropped cash on the table for their drinks. They left the grill room and went to the front desk where they were quickly registered for a room and given card keys. Then they headed across the large, vaulted lobby.
"So, what did you do to piss him off originally?" Andy asked, idly.
"I just spoke my mind is all," Mulder began to explain as they headed for the elevator bank and went up to the 7th floor, Exiting the elevator, Mulder was finishing his story, one he'd told the A.D.'s brother without interruption. He thought he'd explained his side of it quite well and had gained a little confidence that, when the time came to discuss it with the Assistant Director himself, he'd represent his actions as nothing more than exercising his first amendment rights and sharing professional insights with his colleagues.
Andy pushed the card key into the slot on the hotel room door as the younger man concluded his monologue. "So, you actually dissed this A.D. in front of all these new people? Do you just like living on the edge, Fox?"
The FBI agent sighed in frustration. (This is going to be a helluva lot harder than I'd hoped!)
Mulder dialed the A.D.'s office and asked Kim to connect him with Skinner immediately. "It's urgent," he told her quietly. "I need to speak to him right away."
It turned out he was out of the office, but Kim connected him to Skinner's cell phone immediately. "Fox, I thought you were gone for the weekend. What's wrong?" he barked as soon as he picked up.
Mulder winced at the tone and cut in immediately. "Sir, I . I'm here with Andy and--"
"Andy! Is he okay? Are you both okay?" The anger in his voice dissipated and now only worry underscored his words.
"Yes, Walter," Andy interjected from the other extension. "I'm fine. Fox is fine. We just need to talk to you about . . . this guy who's threatening the family. Fox told me--"
"Fox! Were you eavesdropping on me?" Skinner asked him immediately.
"I--I-- I didn't mean to," he stammered before realizing that wasn't the point. "It was an accident. But the Smoking Man was threatening you. And Andy told me the story. . . ."
Skinner was silent on the other end of the phone.
"I told him because he's family, Walter," Andy added, hoping his oldest brother agreed.
"Yes," Skinner replied quietly. "He is family. But I don't want either of you involved in this, do you understand me?"
"You can't deal with this alone, sir!" Mulder said angrily. "This guy's a dangerous, manipulative son of a bitch--"
"Are you listening to me, Mulder? And you, too, Andy," Skinner said firmly. "I do NOT want you getting involved in any of this. I am handling it. Is that clear?"
"But--" both Andy and Mulder spoke simultaneously.
"No buts about it," Skinner said, his voice edging into a threat. "If either of you disobeys me, I promise you, you will regret it. You are not to get involved. You're not to try to track down Spender. Am I understood?" No response came from either of the younger men. "Answer me. Am I understood?"
"Understood," Andy replied, somewhat grudgingly.
"Fox? You're in enough trouble already. Don't compound it by disobeying my direct order. Do you understand?"
Mulder hesitated another ten seconds and his eyes drifted to Andy, who was watching him with concern and amazement at his waltz with disaster. "Yes. I understand," he finally exhaled.
"Good. Now, I'm going to be tied up for the weekend. I'll expect to see you on Monday morning, Fox. Bright and early. Andy, give my love to Eileen and the kids. Both of you go home and do whatever you planned to do this weekend. Got it?"
They hung up the phone and each of them sat back, frustrated. The conversation had not gone as either of them expected or hoped.
"Well, that's that," Mulder said aloud.
"Yeah. No two ways about it . . . . We're gonna have to disobey him, and deal with the consequences later," Andy said, nodding his head definitively.
"God, it's amazing how much we think alike," Mulder said, picking up the phone to call the Gunmen and get them researching a location for CGB Spender.
"I'll call Joe on the other line, Mulder," Andy said. "He's just more up on all the details of this stuff. He probably knows a lot I don't. And Walter confides in him more than me. He may know about this guy 'Spender.'" Andy managed to reach the middle brother within a few minutes and, once he'd filled him in, Joe hung up and hit the road to Washington He agreed with Andy that it didn't make sense to tell their parents what was going on. They were certain Walter wouldn't worry them with it, so they weren't going to either.
Offices of the Lone Gunmen
6:57 p.m.
Frohike let Joe Skinner into the room and locked the door behind him, throwing all nine locks and deadbolts once again. Mulder and Andy began to make introductions, forgetting that Joe had met the others at Teena Mulder's funeral, then Byers launched into what they'd learned so far.
"It appears your parents are well concealed, still. There's no record in any government agency of them, or their entry into the U.S. At least not in the name of "Skrynnik." There are plenty of records in the names that were their former aliases, though. And an open warrant for your father, in that name. As we all know, there is no statute of limitations on murder. . . "
"Yeah, we know," Joe said quietly. "It's been hanging over my Dad's head for almost 50 years, that warrant."
"The government was apparently very concerned when he dropped out of sight, not just because there was a dead man in his house. Your father was very involved in some project with DoD. Something that's still classified "Eyes Only," almost 50 years later! Do you know what that was?"
"No. I honestly never asked about the work. The rest of the story was just so . . . problematic, I don't know if any of us would have asked. And, except for Andy, none of us chose a career doing anything remotely scientific, so it's not like we had a whole hell of a lot of interest in astrophysics!"
"I never asked either," Andy shrugged. "Somehow, my father never seemed open to discussing the details of all of this. He just wanted to make certain we'd be prepared if this ever happened."
The Gunmen proceeded to detail the rest of what they'd gleaned from records they were able to access. But they were still unable to come up with an address for CGB Spender, or a plausible connection that would explain how he knew about information no one else in the U.S. government seemed to know.
Hours later, they were depressed and frustrated and still had no idea what to do next.
The Skinner Home, Pennsylvania
6:58 p.m.
Walter Skinner sat at the kitchen table, waiting for his parents to get over the shock of what he'd come to tell them. His father had risen and now held his wife in a hug that was filled with comfort and shared history. "We always knew this day might come, Raya," he whispered to her. "We've been preparing for 50 years, you know."
She nodded and lifted a hand to her eyes, wiping away a stray tear. "Da, Volodya. But I had come to hope time would continue to be on our side."
Walter, Sr. patted her head lovingly, then turned to his eldest son. "Why didn't you tell us the first time this man contacted you, Walter?" he asked. "This is not something you were ever meant to deal with for us--"
"I didn't think it was necessary, Dad," he answered. "What they asked was something I could give without . . . compromising myself or anyone in the family. They only wanted inside information about some things that were being investigated in my division. I had just been promoted to AD and had not yet gotten the lay of the land. Someone high up in the government and the Deputy Director asked me for things that seemed ridiculous and unconnected to anything important. . . . "
He grimaced at his own words, at his recollection of what he'd thought of Mulder and the X-files when they were first assigned to him. "Once I saw how important some of it was, I negotiated a deal to get the evidence for good. Or so I thought. . . ." His mind swirled with the guilt, remembering how he'd agreed to assign Alex Krycek to work with Mulder after Scully disappeared. In retrospect his choices at the time shamed him and he'd spent much time and effort in recent years trying to make up for them. To Scully. But most of all to Mulder.
"We have to talk about how we're going to deal with this, son,his father asked, seeing he was wrestling with something.
"I don't want to make this decision alone. I tried once before but it didn't last. I can't hold it off any longer--"
Rachel Skinner's eyes blurred with tears but she held them off. "What do they want, Voldya? You must tell us. We're in this together, you know."
The Assistant Director sighed and sat back in his chair. "I tried to take care of this, to keep it from reaching the family," he said sadly. "But now . . . . I won't give them what they want. I won't sacrifice Fox to save us. . . "
"No, Walter, you cannot do what they ask. Fox is family," his father responded vehemently. "We don't sacrifice one of us to save the rest. Even if he wasn't, the answer would be the same. That's a choice we will not make."
Dana Scully's apartment
7:47 p.m.
The phone rang just as Scully set one foot into the hot bubble bath she had prepared for herself. She sighed, knowing it could only be Mulder again. She picked up the portable phone she'd carried into the bathroom with her and resumed her languorous entry into the fragrant, steamy tub.
"Scully."
"Skinner here," the voice on the other end of the phone greeted her.
She stopped in mid-step and backed out of the tub, reaching for the terry cloth robe she'd just discarded. It was ridiculous but somehow she felt she should be dressed to talk to this man.
"Sir! Is something wrong?"
"I don't know, Scully," he answered. "I've been trying to reach Mulder."
"Well, I spoke to him earlier, sir," she answered, relaxing. "He bagged that UFO conference, thank goodness! He and your brothers were headed up to the mountains to do a little fishing."
"What? When did they decide that?"
"It was a last-minute thing, apparently. They've gone to the lake where I . . .where I went with Spender, sir," she answered in a hushed, embarrassed voice. "You know Mulder. He had to get a look at that place, even though that SOB has definitely already pulled up stakes and vanished, like with the office he showed me. Mulder thought as long as he was in the area. . . ."
Skinner's heart was beating wildly but he didn't want his parents to know it. They were in the car with him, headed for Washington D.C. The AD didn't want Scully to know he was disturbed either. "Oh, sure," he answered as casually as he could manage. "Where exactly was that again?"
The Pocono Mountains
Pennsylvania
1 a.m. Saturday
Mulder, Joe and Andy got out of their car, silently closing the doors behind them.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Joe whispered. "Looks like someone's weekend home-"
"I checked with Scully. She gave me detailed instructions about where he took her. I don't know if he'll be here but we may find something that will tell us where he is."
"At least it's Friday night," Andy added from behind. "If this is his weekend place, he's more likely to be here-" He stopped when both Mulder and Joe turned and glared at him. "Just trying to keep things light!"
They resumed their stealthy walk toward the house. The structure sat on stilts and looked over the lake and had a clear view of anything coming from that direction. There was a wood pier with several small lights along it and a small boat was tied up at the end. There were no lights in the house but there was a car in the driveway. Joe, Mulder and Andy continued to watch, to get a clearer picture of the entrances and exits, and who might be inside.
"Rrrriiinnng"
"Jeezus!" Mulder gasped, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket frantically. He dropped it in the dirt and Joe grabbed it and quickly hit the 'Send' button before handing it back to the younger man.
"Mulder," the FBI agent whispered into the phone.
"That's Walter," Andy said suddenly, glancing down at his own belt.
"How do you know?" Joe asked curiously.
"My beeper's set on vibrate," his younger brother whispered back. He had pulled it off of his belt loop and was staring at the telephone number digitally displayed on the mechanism. It was Skinner's cell phone number.
"Yes, sir," Mulder was saying. "He-he's right here. I-I'll get him. Right away." He held the phone out to Joe. The other man licked his lips before sighing and reaching out for it.
"Hi, Walt," he said then he immediately pulled the phone away from his ear as the oldest brother bellowed at him.
"Have you lost your mind, Joe? I might have expected something this hare-brained from the 'dynamic duo' but I've come to expect a little more sense from you!"
"Now, listen, Walt," Joe began when the other man took a breath. "We're just-"
"I don't care what you're doing-or 'just' doing! I am handling this. Turn around and head home. Do you understand me?"
"I hear you but we're here now, we might as well-"
"What part of what I just said don't you understand, Joe? These people are dangerous, and you and Andy are not trained to deal with them. And Fox, well, think about how many times he's been hospitalized since you've known him. Leave it be, Joe. Go home."
Joe sighed and shook his head. "We're just gonna check out this guy's house and then we'll leave, I promise-"
"Joseph Dmitri, I'm holding you responsible for Andy and Fox. Get them and yourself out of there now. Do you hear me?" He was speaking loudly, standing in the parking lot of a rest area on Route 95 in Maryland. But now he could see his folks coming out of the restaurant with the coffee he'd asked them to get for him. Skinner lowered his voice but spoke with all the authority he could invest in the words. "Joe, so help me, I'll wear you out if you defy me on this. It's too serious and too important. I've got it under control and you three will only succeed in making a mess of it."
"I-I hear you, Walter," Joe said slowly.
"Let me hear you say it, Joe."
"We'll . . . go home," his brother agreed.
Skinner let out a loud sigh of relief as he waved his parents toward the car. "Good. I'll catch up with you guys later, after I've taken care of things. Love you, Joe."
"I love you too, Walt," Joe answered, then he disconnected and snapped the phone shut.
"We came all this way-" Andy spoke up immediately.
"We're right outside the house!" Mulder said, tripping over Andy's words.
Joe gave them a tight smile. "I said we'd go home," he said a she handed Mulder back his phone. "I didn't say we'd go RIGHT home."
The other two men grinned at him. "I knew I belonged in this family," Mulder whispered as the three of them settled in to watch the house a while longer.
About an hour later, no movement inside or outside the building had been spotted. They were growing cold and impatient.
"Well, this has been a bust, I guess," Joe finally muttered, saying the words Andy had been thinking. "I guess we might as well go-"
"Not before I get a look inside," Mulder said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his lock pick.
"You're not gonna tell us that's standard FBI issue," Joe responded.
"No. And if your brother asks, you never saw it," the young agent responded with a grin. He started for the house, then realized the Skinner brothers were behind him. "I'll go-"
"Not alone, you won't," Joe responded firmly.
Mulder started at the amazing similarity between Joe and Walter's voices, especially when they adopted that authority figure voice. He finally shrugged it off and resumed his progress toward the back door he intended to pick. In about a minute, that was done and the three of them entered the premises. There were lights on but no one appeared to be home.
Mulder found a desk and began going through some papers there while Joe and Andy looked around a little more. There wasn't much of interest but there were some compact disks Mulder wondered about. And a photo. He found it when he was sorting through the CD cases. It was tucked between two of them. It was a shot of CGB Spender and Special Agent Dana Scully. She was wearing a low-cut black dress that was stark against her creamy white skin and her eyes and hair glittered in what looked like candlelight. His hackles rose as he stood there, staring at-
"She's a beauty, our Dana, isn't she?" a voice behind him asked.
Mulder turned, reaching for his gun as he twisted but it was too late. Spender was there, along with two others. And the other two had guns that were being held against the heads of Joe and Andy Skinner.
"No need to do anything foolish," Spender continued lightly. "I believe you three have already cornered the market on that commodity tonight anyway."
Mulder's teeth ground over each other as he pressed his lips firmly together, resolving not to let Spender goad him into saying or doing anything stupid. Or more stupid, if he was being honest with himself.
"I can't thank you enough for delivering two of the Skrynnik family directly to me," he continued, taking a seat in an armchair by the window. "I wondered how much power the possibility of having fifty year old information revealed might hold. Having two of your nearest and dearest as hostages, well, that's something our AD will not be able to ignore. Or dismiss. It was good of you to save us the trouble of having to come and get them. Or you."
"Glad to be of help," Mulder spat out bitterly. He saw Joe shoot him a warning look and he took a deep breath and internally brought himself up short. He affected a reasonable tone. "What is it you want, anyway? In case we can . . . prevail up on the AD to give it to you . . . "
"Oh, I think I've got enough to 'prevail' upon him already," the other man smirked. "The only question now is, which body shall we ship him, to demonstrate our seriousness? Decisions, decisions. . . ."
In his car about twenty miles away, Assistant Director Walter Skinner was fuming silently. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel once and then profusely regretted it. Now he nursed his bruised hand as he drove, mentally imagining what he'd do to his brothers and Fox once he caught up with them.
He found the turnoff to the town Scully had mentioned, and passed the restaurants she'd given him as landmark. He reached the lake a few minutes later, then turned onto the one lane lake road that led to the house she'd described. In a little while he passed Mulder's car, parked along the side of the road. Skinner pulled up ahead of it, then walked back to see if there was anyone there. There was not and he sighed and started walking along the lakeside, looking for the house.
He saw it a few minutes later. There was a car in the driveway. And lights on inside. He could see someone standing near a window that faced the lakefront. Skinner had a bad feeling about this situation and he checked to make sure his weapon was loaded and unlocked. Then he circled the house, giving it a wide berth since he could see there was electronic surveillance surrounding it. He managed to disable a section in back and silently approached the back of the house, hoping to get a look inside. What he saw nearly stopped his heart.
Joe, Andy and Fox were sitting in chairs in the main room, their hands bound behind them. They appeared to be tied to the chairs as well. Skinner made sure they were all alive, checked to see how many others were in the house, then beat a hasty retreat as he tried to figure out how to rescue them. He could call for help but that might take some time coming. And he didn't really want to bring the authorities in on this, unless he had no choice. There was still so much at stake, further scrutiny from the authorities would not be helpful at this time.
He devised a plan that seemed feasible and set to work.
Inside the house a while later, CGB Spender was on the phone trying to reach the Assistant Director and his three helpers were milling around, waiting for instructions. Suddenly there was the sound of a horn blowing over and over and a mechanical voice loudly sounded: "Step away from the car!"
"What the fuck--?" one of the captors exclaimed, heading for the door, his gun drawn. The other two followed immediately and Spender hung up the phone. He walked to the front door and out onto the porch.
"What is it?" he yelled after the other three men as they headed into the woods down by the lake shore. "Go find out what that is!" He took a few steps down the front stairs, anxiously looking around to see if there was anyone nearby causing the ruckus.
"Step away from the car!" the voice shouted again.
Inside the house, Walter Skinner entered through the back door, his Swiss army knife at the ready. He knew setting off the car alarm on Mulder's vehicle would distract Spender and his men only so long. He hurried into the front room and cut the bindings on Joe first. "Keep quiet," he instructed his brothers and Fox in barely more than a whisper. He cut Fox's bindings, then Andy's and pushed them all toward the back door.
"But, sir," Fox protested as they headed out the back door. "That black-lunged bastard's in there-"
"Shhh! Let's go, Fox," Skinner responded, glaring him into submission and muscling him out the door. The AD's car was parked just behind the trees in back of the house and they were in it and on their way before shouts from the house told them their escape had been discovered.
"That was great!" Andy exulted. "Like an Indiana Jones movie!"
"More like the Three Stooges," Skinner said as he glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure they weren't being followed.
"Well, that's hardly called for," Joe complained. "We were just trying to help-"
"You were disobeying my direct instructions, Joe," Skinner replied succinctly. "I told you to cease and desist. I told you all to go home, that I was handling this. And you disregarded my orders and did exactly what you pleased."
All three of the others blinked at the harshness of his words. As the reality set in, and they realized how angry he was, the occupants of the car sank into silence.
"You nearly got yourselves killed! How do you think that would have affected the family? Mom and Dad? Not to mention your kids, Joe. And yours, Andy! I can't believe how-how stupid and irresponsible you all were. I don't have words to describe how-how angry and disappointed I am in all of you."
Beside him, Joe turned and stared out the window, struck to the core by the truth of what his brother was saying. Only the miracle of Walter arriving and finding a way to get them out of there had kept Andy or Fox or him from being a sacrificial lamb to whatever forces were at work here. He closed his eyes, thinking he might be sick.
In the back of the car, Andy was feeling much the same. He stared out the window and swallowed hard, thinking about how much he'd risked.
And beside him Fox stared out the other window, the passing scenery a blur. He was heartsick at the risk to which he'd exposed the other two men. He felt sure the AD blamed him and for good reason.
In the front seat, Skinner pulled out his cell phone and called the FBI's Special Agent on Duty. He gave instructions to have the local Bureau office pick up Fox's car, if it was still there, and to have the local authorities detain anyone they found at the house. He knew with almost certainty no one would be there when the locals arrived but just in case, he issued the order. He drove another ten minutes before turning into a scenic overlook and pulling the car to a stop. Then he got out and slammed the door behind him.
Skinner walked quickly toward the end of the parking lot. It was empty except for his car. His hands went to his hips and he violently kicked at a log that served as a boundary on the parking area, trying to release a little of his pent up anger. "Fuck!" he said to no one. "Of all the fucking stupid . . . moronic, idiotic . . . things to do. . . ."
Inside the car the three other men watched him in silence. They couldn't hear him but had no trouble judging what his body language was communicating. Finally Joe opened his car door and got out. He walked slowly toward his brother.
"Walter-"
Skinner turned on him. "Not now, Joe. I'm too angry."
Joe nodded. "I know. I-I don't blame you. . . ."
Another car door opened and closed behind them. In a moment, Andy was there, too. "Walter, I know how pissed you are. And you're right! It was a stupid and dangerous thing to do-"
Mulder was alone in the car now, watching the scene outside, debating what the best thing to do might be. He felt worse than he'd ever felt after doing something wrong. He'd not only risked his own life but Joe's and Andy's. The Skinner family could never forgive him. The AD couldn't either, he thought to himself. As he stared at the three men at the end of the parking lot, Skinner suddenly reached for his two brothers and pulled them into his arms, hugging them as though they had been long lost. Tears welled up in Mulder's eyes and he hung his head, suddenly certain he'd managed to do the one thing that would drive a wedge between him and his adopted family.
Time seemed to stand still as he sat there, wanting to run but knowing there was no place to run to that would let him escape his shame and the reality that he'd blown it again. Lost the only family he had left. The car door beside him opened suddenly.
"Get out here, Fox," the AD was saying.
Mulder took a deep breath and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat as he followed the other man's instructions. He pulled his long frame out of the car and was seized into a fierce hug as he came to a standing position.
"Fox. Thank God you're all right, too," Skinner was saying as he ran a hand over the back of the younger man's hair. "When I think what could have happened . . . ."
Fox was held another few seconds, still stunned by what had just happened. "You're n-not m-mad?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. He glanced at Joe and Andy, trying to ascertain what had transpired in the last few minutes. They grimaced, each giving him a weak smile that told him he was decidedly not on the right track.
"Oh, I'm mad as hell," Skinner returned, letting him go finally. "And as soon as we finish dealing with the family problem, all three of you are gonna have an up close and personal encounter with the Persuader." He pointed at Joe. "First you," he said. Then he turned to Andy. "Then you," he added. Then he turned to Fox. "Then you." He turned back to Joe. "And then you again. Now get in the car before I decide to give you all a preview."
The three other men scrambled back into the car, each lost in his own thoughts and concerns. Skinner took a deep, cleansing breath of pine-scented air, then he got back in the car and started the engine. "Now, let me tell you how we've resolved the family problem. . . ." he began as he pulled the car out onto the highway.
Later that night, the three Skinner brothers, Walter, Sr. and Rachel, and Fox Mulder sat with a representative of the State Department and the US Attorney's office. The two government people had just finished rereading Walter Sr. and Rachel's statements and everyone was satisfied that they represented the full facts of the situation.
"Mr. Skinner, it's been a pleasure meeting you and your wife," the representative of the US Attorney's office said as she stood, placing the statements in his briefcase. She was an old friend of the AD's and had personally shepherded the elder Skinners through the day, while their son was out rescuing his errant brothers and surrogate son. "I can't make any promises, but I suspect the charge from 1951 will be dropped, now that the facts are known. You've had a solid fifty years of good citizenship, raised a wonderful family and been an asset to the country. Your troubles stemmed from refusing to spy on the Soviet Union's behalf, and that will go a long way toward swaying the decision. I'll be in touch but I wouldn't worry if I were you."
The Skinners thanked her and she left after giving the AD a brief hug. "I'm glad you called me, Walt," she said. "I'll do everything I can."
The man from the State Department was still stunned at the sequence of events that had taken place during the day. He'd been called in when it appeared there were foreign nationals involved in a crime. But the couple he'd met were more American than his own parents, and the crime had taken place nearly fifty years before. And been an act of self-defense.
"I believe I have everything I need," he said, although his tone indicated he wasn't quite certain of that at all. "I've never handled anything like this before but . . . I called my boss and he said to tell you this will be handled quickly, Mr. Skinner. I-I think satisfactorily."
The AD nodded and shook his hand. He was relieved to find that his assessment of the situation was correct. He'd always thought so but. . . but when Spender first approached him about it, he'd been a newly promoted Assistant Director of the FBI and any hint of scandal might have scuttled his career. At least, that's what he'd thought at the time. In retrospect, that decision looked foolish.
It was late by the time they were free, too late to head home to Danville so they all retired to the McLean house.
But the next morning, after a sumptuous breakfast provided by Rachel, the entire group went home. For the rest of the Christian world it was Easter Sunday but the Skinners were Russian Orthodox and would celebrate the holiday a week later.
Still, Rachel and Walter were going home to their first day in Danville without a cloud hanging over their heads. Something to celebrate. And Joe, Andy and Fox to the promised punishment from Walter. They were decidedly not in a celebratory mood. The family took two cars, Mr. Skinner's and the AD's, and the ride was uneventful, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
When they arrived, Rachel bustled out of the car, full of energy and happy to have her four boys home with her and her husband. She walked to the front door and opened it but suddenly realized that no one had followed her. She turned and saw her sons and Fox all milling around the cars, and her husband standing on the porch steps watching them. It took only a moment for the mother in her to know something was wrong. Joe, Andy and Fox all stood self-consciously staring at their feet, hands thrust into the pockets of their jeans. Walter and his Dad were exchanging a look that told her they shared a secret. There was more here than she knew and that bothered her.
"What's wrong?" she asked curiously.
"Raya, honey, nothing to worry about," Walter Sr. told her as he came up the stairs and pushed the door open all the way. His son had filled him in on yesterday's near-disaster early this morning and now he knew Walter had plans for the others. "I'll tell you all about it over a cup of tea, okay?"
Rachel glanced back one more time but her instincts told her this was not the time to get involved in whatever was going on among her boys. She allowed her husband to usher her into the house, intent on making him explain it all.
"Well, gentlemen," the AD said, noting the front door had closed behind his parents. He swept his hand out in the direction of the Skinner family woodshed. "After you."
Joe let out a deep breath and shook his head once, still reeling from the situation in which he found himself. But he took the lead with Andy and Fox falling in behind him. And Walter bringing up the rear.
Once there, the Assistant Director pointed toward the wooden workbench and went to retrieve the Persuader from the hook where it hung most of the time. Without another word of instruction the three other men took their places and lowered their jeans, then bent forward over the bench.
"What's this strapping for, Joe?" Skinner asked as the first three licks from the razor strop found their mark on his bare butt.
"Ahhh! For disobeying you," Joe said between gritted teeth.
"And you Andy?" the AD asked letting two burning lick fall across his youngest brother's backside.
"Same thing! For disobeying!"
"And Fox?" Skinner asked the young FBI agent he'd come to think of as a son. "What are you being punished for?"
"F-for disobedience! Like al-always!" the younger man said expecting to get more than the one lick he received. Then he remembered the Skinner family tradition, that the older ones were held more responsible. "And for getting Joe and Andy involved to begin with!"
Skinner bit back a smile. "We're not there yet, Fox," he said quietly. "One thing at a time." Now he turned his attention back to Joe. "What else, Joseph?"
"F-for showing bad judgment! And letting Fox and Andy do something foolish-OWW! OUCH!!" His resolve not to let Walter see his discomfort was forgotten already.
"Same instruction, Joe. One thing at a time," Skinner said, shaking his head. It had definitely been a long time since Joe had found himself in this position.
"Andy?" He gave the middle butt two additional licks.
"Um, for not thinking clearly enough about the danger! Ahh! OWWW! And risking my life!"
"Fox, your turn. What else are you being punished for?" Skinner asked as he laid two more licks across Mulder's now pinkening backside. It went on that way until all three of them were sobbing and promising never to do anything so foolish again as long as they lived. The AD stopped then and walked back to the other wall to hang up the razor strop.
He gave his brothers and Fox a moment to collect themselves and rearrange their clothing. Three tear-streaked faces turned to him one at a time. He gave Fox a long, heartfelt hug first, wanting the young man to be certain he was loved despite the situation. "It's okay, Fox," he said quietly. "You stepped a little far out of line this time, kid. But I love you, remember that."
"I l-love you, too, Dad," the young FBI agent whispered, burying his face in the AD's shoulder. "I'm s-sorry. . . ."
"I know. And you'll be even sorrier before this is over, I guarantee it."
Next he took Andy into his arms and gave him the same kind of hug. "I'm sorry, t-too, Walter," Andy hiccuped, letting his emotions take over. "I'm really, really s-sorry."
Skinner smiled over his shoulder and rubbed his back gently. "And I'm really REALLY sorry about the punishment tour you guys are gonna get," he said lightly. "But you can't say it wasn't well-earned!"
Andy sighed dramatically. He'd been hoping against hope that this was the full extent of their punishment. Beside him, Fox's heart fell, too, hearing what was to come.
Skinner laid a hand on Fox's shoulder, keeping one on Andy's. "You guys wait outside, okay?" he said.
They both nodded and headed for the door, casting a glance at Joe. He was standing next to the bench, arms crossed and staring at the wall. He bit down on his lower lip, trying to hold back the wave of emotions that threatened to break through the walls.
When he saw the door close, Skinner turned back to Joe. "What's the matter, kid?"
Joe shook his head, not trusting himself to respond.
"You're not getting out of here until you tell me," Skinner pressed him quietly. "I can get the strop back down, if that'll help. . . "
"No! I-It's just. . . . Hell, I feel like such a jerk! I can't believe I did something so stupid-"
Skinner took a step over to him and gathered his brother into a fierce hug. "I know the feeling, Joe," he said. "But you know the rules. You do the crime, you do the time. I'm sure you've told Mike that a thousand times . . . "
"I have! That's the point!" Joe sputtered, finally allowing himself to be comforted. He turned his head into Walter's broad shoulder and let the tears he'd been holding back come. "I can't believe I . . .. I can't believe you had to p-punish me like some irresponsible kid. . . !"
"Oh, that's the problem," Skinner laughed gently. "Well, listen, Joe, no matter how old you get, you'll never be perfect! Dad told me that just this morning . . . ."
The next three days passed in a blur for the entire family. Having three of their boys on a punishment tour, something that had not occurred in quite a while, the days passed quickly. The elder Skinners gave all three of them a good talking to about putting themselves at risk. And Mr. Skinner told them several times that they were lucky it was Walter who was punishing them. Else, he said, they'd all be eating standing up for the better part of a month.
Outside and inside chores took up the bulk of Joe, Andy and Fox's days. Each afternoon they spent an hour or so before dinner standing in the three open corners of the family living room. Each evening they had dinner and went to bed. Joe and Andy had let their wives know they would be staying with their folks for a couple of days. It was Easter week for most of the world and Joe was off for school break anyway. Andy took a couple of days off from work, telling his office he was spending some time with his folks. It was true.
And Mulder and Skinner took a week of vacation, also, explaining there were Spring chores to be done in Danville. That too was true.
Wednesday evening Walter Sr. and Jr. conferred and decided the short but memorable punishment tour would be over the next morning. Skinner went upstairs to deliver the nightly bedtime spankings, not sure whether to tell his prisoners they'd be released in the morning.
He went to Fox's room first. The young man was ready for bed, even though it was barely 7:30. His years as a part of the Skinner family, first as an adult, then as a kid, had taught him this was not a routine that would change while he was serving a punishment tour. So he didn't fight it anymore. Especially not under the current circumstance, with Andy and Joe being punished right alongside him. In some ways, Mulder still couldn't believe it.
"Ready, kid?" the AD asked as he entered and closed the door behind him.
"About as ready as ever," Mulder answered with a wry smile. He dropped to his knees beside the AD and got in position. Skinner pulled his pajamas down below his butt cheeks and smacked him soundly. "What's this spanking for, Fox?"
"To remind me I'm still being punished," the younger man answered quickly as two more whacks hit his bottom. "For disobeying you. And risking my life. And-"
"Okay," Skinner interjected. "Let's talk about one more item. Telling AD Kendall's new recruits-"
"Ohhh," Mulder groaned. He'd been hoping that incident had been forgotten amid the rest. "I'm sorry about that! Ouchh! Owww! Ohhh!"
"You can write AD Kendall a nice letter of apology when you get back to work tomorrow, Fox. And deliver it in person . . . " He smacked the upturned butt three more times, then he let Mulder slide off onto the floor.
"I'm going back to work tomorrow?" the younger man asked in surprise. He'd been expecting a full week of punishment for this fiasco.
"Yeah. I think you need to get back. Scully's probably getting bored without you. Come back on Sunday for Easter dinner, though. It's the biggest holy day in the Russian calendar and we always make a big thing of it."
"I know," Mulder smiled. "I've been around a few years, remember."
"Oh, of course. What was I thinking?" Skinner chuckled, pulling him into a hug. "Bring Scully on Sunday, too. My Mom told me to tell you that."
"I'll ask her. Since her family celebrated their Easter last week, she's probably free."
"Good. Now off to bed, kiddo."
He watched Mulder get into bed and pulled the covers up over him. Then he shut down the light and went to Andy's room. Andy was on his cell phone when he got there and he looked up in alarm when he saw his brother in the doorway.
"'Night, 'leen. I'll get home as soon as I can," he said hurriedly. "Gotta go now." He flipped the phone closed and began to explain why he had been on the phone.
"It's okay, Andy!" Skinner assured him. "You have responsibilities, you need to keep in touch. You're a lucky guy, to have someone like Eileen. . . ."
"Yeah," Andy smiled ruefully. "Lucky for the kids they have one responsible parent-"
"Stop, Andy," Skinner interrupted him firmly. "They have two responsible parents. It always amazes me how you can be the most responsible, level-headed parent when you're around the kids. And the most irresponsible, reckless kid yourself when you're not!"
Andy colored. "Gee, thanks. I . . . think."
"Any time," Skinner smiled as he took a seat on the bed and prepared to give Andy his bedtime spanking. The youngest Skinner brother fell to his knees and leaned forward over his brother's thighs. Then he got a half dozen stinging swats on his bare butt before being told he was being paroled, too. "Go spend some time with your kids. We'll see you all on Sunday."
Last was Joe. He was using Jean's old bedroom since he and Andy had shared a room until Walter moved out and Joe took over his old bedroom. He was reading when Walter arrived. He put the book down and stood up.
Skinner could see Joe was still not completely reconciled to the events that had taken place in the last few days. He accepted his punishment but he couldn't seem to get past his own disappointment in himself. The Assistant Director decided to get this over with quickly.
Joe let himself be guided into position and took his nightly spanking without protest, answering the traditional question just as Fox had. "To remind me I'm still being punished!"
Skinner gave him a half dozen stinging slaps, then quickly brought him upright, letting him pull up his pajama bottoms. Then the older brother pulled him into a hug and felt him resist a little.
"Joe, we have to get past this," Skinner said. "I know how you feel-"
"How can you know, Walter? You didn't . . . fuck up like some kid! And get your butt strapped for it! And a punishment tour. You're the . . . the 'perfect' son! No matter how hard I try, I never can meet the standard you set. I-I don't know why I even try . . . ."
Skinner was stunned by his words. And Joe was immediately embarrassed and seized with regret.
"And I don't know why I just said that! I-It's just that . . . you're the one Dad relies on," he blurted out, trying to explain. "The one he turns to when he's got problems. I just thought, for once, Andy and I could show you both we're adults now, too. And all I succeeded in doing was proving just the opposite-"
"Joe, listen to me," Skinner said, taking a seat on the bed. He motioned for Joe to sit beside him. When he did, the AD began to speak. "I-I guess that's what it looks like to you but . . . believe me, none of us is immune from fucking up. Not even me. And the rules are the same for all of us. You know that. The truth is, I . . . think you're the one who figured it all out first. Great wife, great kids, great job. . . . I'm proud of you, Joe. Mom and Dad are, too."
"Yeah," Joe snorted. "Especially the last couple of days . . . "
"Listen to me, Joseph Dmitri. I've heard you tell Fox this. And Mike. The family rules . . . may be a little off center for most people but they're the rules we live by. They . . . make us who we are. Being subject to them doesn't make you less of a man in my eyes, or anyone's eyes. If it did, how could we enforce those rules with the next generation?"
Joe lifted his eyes to meet his brother's. He looked directly into Walter's, two pairs of nearly identical brown eyes staring intently at each other, waiting to see who relented first. Finally, Joe dropped his and shrugged. "I know you're right, Walt," he sighed. "I guess I just needed . . . a reminder."
Walter pulled him into a bear hug and felt him relax fully for the first time in days. "I know what you mean. I sometimes need to be reminded myself."
"Well, one thing's for certain," Joe sighed. "Next time I give Michael a punishment tour, I'll have a fresh perspective. It's been a long time and I'd forgotten how . . . effective it can be at putting you back on the path of righteousness!"
Skinner kissed him on the cheek, then gave him a final squeeze. "Yeah. I imagine you're right, Joe. And it's been a very long time. . . ."
The next morning, Rachel made her famous almond-flavored French toast for breakfast. Andy and Fox were driving back to D.C. together and they would drop Joe off at the airport on the way. Nora and the kids were in New York City for the week with Amanda's class trip. Michael and Kathy had gone along, since their colleges were on Easter break, and Joe would surprise them all by meeting them to spend the next few days. Then the entire family would get together on Sunday for Easter.
"Anyone planning to arrive on Saturday?" Rachel asked over breakfast.
"Yeah, I think Eileen and the kids and I will be here Saturday afternoon," Andy responded right away. "We'll go to church with you on Sunday."
"I'll ask Scully if she's okay to spend the night," Fox added, munching on the last piece of French toast. "If it's okay with her, we'll come Saturday, too."
"The bus is driving back on Saturday so we'll be here by late afternoon with the kids," Joe said. "Maybe we can all have dinner on Saturday night . . . ."
Fox laughed. "Yeah. That's the great thing about you people. You think you need to have a pre-holiday dinner to get ready for your holiday dinner . . . !"
In a little while they were all out front of the house, seeing the three of them off.
"You sure you don't want to drive down with us," Fox asked Skinner as they were packing up the car. "Or that you don't want me to stay? I don't mind. I planned to take the whole week off originally . . . "
"Nah. I . . . need to spend some time with my Dad. And you should go catch up on things at work. And maybe take Scully out to dinner or something. She's probably wondering how things went when you went after Cancer Man. You should put her mind at rest."
"Yeah, she's likely to have my head if I don't," he answered with a smile. "Although I don't plan to fill her on in the details of what actually happened! I'll see you Saturday afternoon then." He hugged the AD, and they exchanged kisses on the cheek in the manner Skinner had kissed his two brothers good-bye a moment earlier. The Assistant Director and the elder Skinners waved as they drove off, disappearing around a bend in the road that led to the highway.
"Well, it's been an eventful few days," Rachel said. "Almost like the old days, when you were all growing up. Don't think I don't miss them but . . . I'm ready for a few days of quiet and relaxation before the entire crowd descends on us this weekend."
"Raya, I couldn't agree more. Why don't you put up another pot of coffee and we'll be along in a little while," her husband said. "Walter and I . . . have a few things to discuss."
Rachel did a double-take, looking from her husband to her son, then back again. She wasn't certain what was going on but she recognized that tone of voice. And the faint blush under her son's slightly tan skin. She opened her mouth to ask but a sideways glance from Mr. Skinner made her think better of it. She nodded and headed into the house, determined to get the story from him as soon as she got him alone.
Both Walter Skinners stood in awkward silence in front of the large farm house. Finally the elder one spoke, not willing to let the awkwardness go on a moment longer.
"So. Seven years is a long time to keep a secret from your family, son," he said firmly. "And risking your career, maybe even your life, instead of talking to us, telling us what was going on, that's not something I can condone."
The AD nodded slowly, then exhaled and nodded once again. He'd been expecting this discussion, ever since he told his father the whole story last weekend. "I know, Dad."
"'Bout time you and the Persuader got reacquainted, then," his father said, beginning to walk toward the woodshed.
Walter sighed loudly and closed his eyes for a moment. This was as bad as he'd expected. The only good thing about it was that the waiting was finally over.
"Don't keep me waiting, son," his father called back. "I promise you, if your behavior over the next few days is what I expect, your punishment tour will end by the time the family gets here on Saturday. If not-"
The Assistant Director jumped into action, jogging to catch up with his father. He opened the door to the shed when they reached it and waited for the older man to enter before letting it close behind them. "I promise you, sir, you'll have no reason to question my behavior," he said, thinking that he sounded just like the seventeen year old he'd once been.
His father chuckled. Then he laid a hand on his oldest son's shoulder. "That's what I was hoping to hear, son," he said before turning Walter around and giving him a resounding slap on the butt to get him started. "Now, you know how this goes . . ."
Skinner strode toward the razor strop he'd hung back in place on Sunday, intent on getting this over with. But as he took it down from its hook, he suddenly found himself lost in old memories, long dormant feelings. And a little residual guilt. "Dad. . . ?" he finally said, not sure if he'd be able to get the rest of the words out.
"Yes, son?"
"As long as we're already here-- There's something I've been meaning to tell you about Mom's car. . . ."
THE END