Down Mexico Way
Part 2
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: Very slight spoiler for the beginning of the eight season, specifically the first episode. And a bit of a spoiler for "En Ami."
Setting: Seventh Season. Follows episode "En Ami" and falls before the final episode of Season 7 in the series.
Rating: PG. Discipline, no slash.
Author's note: This story has a scene that's been rolling around in my head for some time now. It's meant as a tribute to a great lady, a wonderful friend, and great fan fic writer, someone who could tell a story with such wit and detail, I'd lose myself in everything she wrote. I hope those of you who knew DiAnn see a little bit of her spirit in this character. And I know for sure she's still spinning wonderful tales about a certain character she loved so much....
Special thanks to Phoebe, who beta'd and nursed this one along the way.
Summary: Mulder's been hiding a health problem. The AD decides to deal with his deceit, then arranges for Mulder to recuperate in the sunny climes of Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula as the Skinner men take a long-planned fishing holiday.
Playa del Carmen, Mexico
Five days later
Walter Skinner swallowed hard as he caught the glare his father was aiming at him. The older man's hands were both planted firmly on his hips, a posture the AD recognized instantly. It was one he himself assumed at similar moments, in similar circumstances. Of course, at those moments it was generally Fox on the receiving end of that look. The Assistant Director's mouth went dry
"Well.... It seemed like a good idea at the time," the son offered by way of explanation. Even to his own ear, his voice sounded a little bit, well, squeaky. *How the hell did this happen? I mean, less than a week ago, I was heading for a relaxing, care-free vacation with my family. Nothing but fishing and hanging out by the beach.* Working his jaw in an attempt to ease the bolt of tension there, he tried to recall exactly when it had all gone wrong....
Five days earlier
Playa del Carmen, Mexico
It was a perfect day. Blue sky, hot sun, the calm turquoise water of the Caribbean stretching out into eternity. Walter Skinner stood on the terrace behind the beach house he had rented for the week and felt every ounce of tension melt away. Fox was moving around inside, he could hear the younger agent talking to the caretaker and his wife. They came with the rental, it seemed. The wife cooked and cleaned. The husband picked them up at the airport and that seemed to be the full extent of his job.
Francisco Mendoza was a wizened man of eighty, if he was a day. He'd come back this morning to check on them and now Skinner suspected he would turn up daily, along with his wife. The people who rented this place were probably his main recreation. *Oh, well. He'll be company for Dad. Give me and Joe and the rest of us an occasional break!*
A car came up the driveway and the AD saw it was the second jeep he'd rented and left at the airport for Joe to pick up when the rest of the family arrived today. With six of them here, they'd need two cars for their stay. Actually, the house came with an old golf cart as well, that was useful for heading down to the beach, or into the local village. So it appeared they'd have enough transportation for the six of them, even on days their plans didn't call for everyone to be together. As usual, Skinner had thought of every detail.
Oliver and his son, Doug, had been unable to make it on short notice but the rest of the family moved whatever was on their schedule to get there. They all wanted to support Fox as he recuperated. And Joe and Andy, like Skinner, were glad their Dad was up to the trip. It had been a while since al the Skinner men had gotten away together like this and they were all looking forward to it.
"Hola, Tio Walter!" Mike shouted as he hopped out of the jeep. "Como estas?" A Puerto Rican girl who attended his college had taught him a couple of key phrases.
Skinner laughed at Mike's seriously defective accent and went to greet them, walking around the side of the house. As he reached the driveway, the front door opened and Mulder appeared, a huge smile on his face.
"Hola, Mulder!" Mike said.
"Vaya con dios," Mulder replied. "Quiero Taco Bell....!"
Mike frowned a bit. "That beats my Spanish vocabulary," he admitted sheepishly.
"That's about the full extent of mine too, squirt!" Mulder chuckled, tousling his hair and pulling him into a welcoming half-hug, half wresting move. He was again a couple of inches taller and twenty pounds heavier than Mike and somehow he felt the need to make sure Mike knew it.
Skinner was already passing out hugs and kisses to the others. Joe, Andy and Walter Sr. made their way to Mulder next, enveloping the younger man in the kind of bear hugs they'd just exchanged with the AD. Then they met Francisco, who greeted them like they were old friends. Skinner was certain now Francisco would turn out to be a fixture for the week. *Oh, well. The old man might keep my Dad occupied a bit. They can exchanged stories about 'the old days.'*
"How was the trip?" Skinner asked Joe as they followed the rest of the crowd into the house. After their father's heart attack nearly six months earlier, he and his brothers worried more than ever about his health. This trip had been approved by the older man's cardiologist but still.... It was a worry. And worrying came naturally to the oldest Skinner brother, especially.
"Fine. Dad's doing okay," Joe replied quietly. "But he's slowed down a step or two-"
"I know-" Skinner answered only to be cut off by a voice from the other room.
"I heard that!" Walter Sr. called in. "I don't see as going on vacation is the same as rushing to a fire! That's not about getting old. Or being sick. It's about having common sense. It's a vacation, isn't it?"
Joe was abashed at being overheard. "You're absolutely right, Dad!" he called back amiably. He waited until he was sure the other man was completely out of earshot. "He wouldn't even let us carry his bag for him. 'I'm not an invalid,' he kept saying. Whatever you do, don't let him think we think he needs to be coddled."
"I do not need to be coddled!" the older man called in from the other room. "And I'm not going deaf either!"
Skinner burst out laughing. He shook his head at Joe as Andy wandered in from the other room.
"Would you two cut it out? I had to listen to him complaining all the way down on the plane about how everyone treats him like his heart's gonna give out any minute. 'And my ticker's as good as new! Even the doctor said so,' he told me, about a hundred times. I know Nora says this is normal after a heart attack but everything about Dad's larger than life to begin with-"
"What's everyone huddled out here for, huh?" Mulder asked curiously as he stepped out of the living room into the foyer. None of the Skinner brothers had a chance to answer.
"They're trying to decide what they'll do if my heart gives out while we're here," Walter Sr. said ominously. He'd suddenly appeared under the archway and now he stood there, glowering at the four of them. "They must have forgotten to pack those electric shocker paddles!"
There was a moment of silence as everyone thought frantically about how to respond, then Mulder spoke up. "Well, I've got my hairdryer," he said matter-of-factly. "We could plug it in, drop you in the pool and toss it in after you. That oughta do it."
This time the moment of silence lasted a brief second longer. Then Walter Sr. began to laugh uproariously, followed by all of the others.
"Let's have lunch," the AD said, changing the subject. "Maria's got everything ready." He herded everyone out toward the patio and dropped an arm around Mulder's shoulders as they walked. "We'll just have to start calling you McGyver, I guess," he told the younger man affectionately.
"Just about anything's an improvement on 'Fox,'" the younger man answered, and received a half-hearted swat on his rump in return.
"I thought we'd gotten past that," Skinner said as the grinning younger man sidled away, keeping his butt out of reach.
Joe and the AD spent the rest of the day getting their fishing boat rented and planning the following day's route in search of yellowfin tuna while Mike, Fox and Andy swam in the ocean and laid on the beach. After a dinner in town, they retired early and the first day of their vacation ended as idyllically as it had begun.
The sleeping arrangements had worked out perfectly. Joe and Mike had a room. Andy and Mulder were sharing one. And Skinner and his Dad had the larger, master bedroom. It had two big queen-size beds and was situated at the top of the house, with a view of the beach and the ocean.
At just past midnight, Mulder rose and quietly left the room he was sharing with Andy. He picked up the jeans, underwear and tee-shirt he'd left on the chair by the door and silently closed the door behind himself. Then he went downstairs and dressed in the living room, where he'd surreptitiously left his sneakers before retiring. He was pulling the shirt over his head when something surprised him.
"What are you doing?" Andy whispered.
Mulder nearly had a heart attack. He sat down heavily, his hand going to his chest. "Jeez!" he whispered back. "Sneak up on a guy, will ya?"
"Where are you going?" Andy asked him. Fox saw immediately the youngest Skinner brother had come down with his own jeans and a shirt in hand, as well as a pair of top-siders.
"I-I was restless. I thought I'd go for a drive...."
"Really? Well, I'm kind of restless myself," Andy said. "I'll go along-"
"No! You can't-- I mean, no, I'd feel bad about that. You had a long trip today, Andy. You need a good night's rest-"
Andy eyed him balefully. "Okay. Out with it. Nobody knows more about sneaking out of the house than me, Fox. And I can always spot a man on a mission...."
Mulder sighed. There was no point in lying to Andy. He'd know it. Andy was as good at this stuff as he was. Maybe even better. "Okay. I... got some information about possible alien abductions near here. Near a place called Tulum-"
"I know Tulum," Andy said. He began stripping off his pajama bottoms and pulling on his jeans. "I used to come to this area sometimes when I was single and got a big project completion bonus. There's good surfing, great beaches. I... used to just hang until the money ran out." He pulled his own tee-shirt over his head.
"You can't come, Andy," Mulder began again, only to be interrupted.
"It's dark. There are no streetlights here and I know the way to Tulum. You need me. And anyway, you'd have to kill me to keep me from checking out possible alien sightings..."
"Aliens?" another voice broke in. "Cool! I'm coming, too!"
Both men turned to see Mike standing there, wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and carrying his own clothes. "Michael Alexei! What are you doing up?" Andy blurted, trying his best to sound like Joe. Or Walter. Or his Dad. "Go back to bed."
"I heard you guys come down. So, where are the aliens?"
"There are NO ali-" Mulder began.
"Somewhere near Tulum. It's an old Mayan ruin-" Andy began.
"Yeah! I read about it in my Dad's guidebook on the plane," Mike responded excitedly. He began getting dressed too.
"You can't come, Mike," Mulder began trying to dissuade him again. The younger man took no notice.
"Do you have any proof about the alien sightings?" he asked as he zipped up and buttoned his jeans. He picked up his own sneakers, the ones he'd also left behind in the main room earlier and started out the front door toward the jeep. For Mike though, there had not been a plan involved. He'd simply left them there as he left a trail of clothes and shoes behind everywhere.
Mulder and Andy looked at each other uncertainly. Finally Andy spoke.
"How often do you actually run into aliens, Fox?" he asked.
"Well... not too often," Mulder replied slowly.
"So we'll be back long before dawn. What's the harm?"
Mulder thought a moment longer. "Yeah," he finally said. "No harm, no foul, as they say. We better get going though or we won't make it back before the others notice we're gone...."
The ride to Tulum took an hour. It was pitch black so Andy drove. He turned out to be more familiar with these roads than Mulder had even hoped. "I once rented a place near here," the youngest Skinner brother explained. "Back in my wild days...."
"How wild were they, Uncle Andy?" Mike asked, leaning over the back seat so he could hear every word.
"Do I look like I have a death wish?" Andy laughed. "Your Dad would kill me if I told you the truth."
"Well, I want to know about the sneaking out of the house stuff," Mulder chuckled. "I mean, there's no way to get out of the house in Danville without your Mom knowing-"
"That's 'cause you always go down the front stairs," Andy laughed. "They all squeak. The back staircase only has one squeaky step-"
"Third from the bottom," Mike cut in knowingly.
"Yeah," Andy agreed. Then he looked at Mulder sympathetically. "Apparently you're the only one in the family who doesn't know that."
Mulder grimaced, thinking of the times he'd gotten caught trying to leave the Skinner family home without anyone knowing. The only time he'd ever managed to pull it off was when he'd gone down the back stairs. But he'd never made the connection. *Some great investigator you are!* Then he shrugged. "Well, I know now...."
In a little while, they drove through the stone walls of the ancient city of Tulum, between two watchtowers that had stood guard there for a thousand years. The place was shrouded in darkness, the weak light of a quarter moon and twinkling starlight providing minimal illumination in the dense rainforest. The silence was overpowering, broken only by the hum of insects and the occasional calls of exotic birds.
Luckily Mulder had a couple of flashlights and the jeep came equipped with one as well. Mulder had filled the others in on the little bit of information he had on the way and pulled out the satellite pictures the Gunmen had e-mailed him when they arrived. He spread the copies out on the hood of the jeep.
"Satellite photos!" Mike breathed excitedly beside him. "This is way cool!"
Mulder shot him an amused glance, then he cleared his throat. "This is work, Mike," he said. "Not an adventure."
"Oh, come on," Mike whined a little. "Can't it be fun and work at the same time?"
"Yeah, Mulder," Andy cut in. "Don't try to tell us you don't think your work is fun..."
Mulder grinned. "Well, the truth is, whenever I try to think of something else I'd like to do for a living... I can't. So I guess I think it's fun some of the time...! But we don't have long tonight so let's get a move on...."
The three of them searched through the main buildings quickly, then they turned their attention to the area behind the ruins. There was some residual ash of some sort on the wet ground there, and indentations from something but nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. After a couple of hours, Andy could see that Mike was falling asleep on his feet.
"I'll take him back to the jeep," he told Mulder, cocking his head at his weary nephew.
"Nah. Let's go. We've only got a couple of hours until daylight. And your brother Walter's an early riser-"
"Not to mention Dad and Joe," Andy agreed. They went to collect Mike and head home. "Do you think anything's going on here?"
"I don't know. Something 'feels' strange about the place. Like there's more than tourist traffic here. But... I don't know."
They made it home before the first shaft of light crept over the horizon. All three of them fell into their beds no more than thirty minutes before Walter Sr. rose and started the coffee pot.
Later that day
At sea
"Stay with it, Joe!" Walter Skinner shouted as his brother worked the reel on his fishing rig. Joe had been working on this catch for nearly fifteen minutes as Captain Esteban and his crew held the boat in place, trying not to lose the giant tuna.
"I'm trying!" his brother yelled back as he let the line go slack, then began tightening it again. Walter Sr. stood at the rail, watching the fish fight its last battle. He and one of the crew members were standing by with a large net to haul the tuna in as soon as it was out of the water.
"Well, try harder," the oldest brother grinned at him.
"Here it is!" Walter Sr. yelled. He leaned down to help pull it up but the AD deftly took the net out of his hands and finished the job. A giant, sparkling yellowfin tuna went into the cooler that held their catch for the day.
"I could have handled it," the elder Skinner harrumphed when everyone had finished congratulating Joe on the biggest fish of the day.
"I know you could, Dad," his son said. "But it's been a long day. And I'm just a little big younger-"
"Well, I may not be young but I'm still on my feet," his father grumbled. "Which is more than we can say for the three youngest family members. They've been out cold for two hours."
Skinner frowned a little and walked over to the hatch. He peered down into the cabin below the deck. "I know. I thought everyone would have gotten a good night's sleep last night. I don't know what that's about."
"Well, I just want to point out, I've managed to stay awake all day," his father responded as he took a couple of beers out of another cooler. He handed one to Joe and one to Walter. Then he took another out of the cooler and popped the top on it. "To a great first day of vacation!"
They had dinner that night at the house. Francisco's wife, Maria, turned out to be a great cook. The yellowfin tuna was grilled to perfection and accompanied with rice and beans, and a generous amount of tequila. The Skinners invited the Mendoza couple to stay for dinner so Francisco provided a supply of the locally made liquor in return. By 10 o'clock, the entire crew was out cold. Not even Mulder managed to get up and head back to Tulum, having had a few shots too many of Francisco's stock.
But the next day was different. After another half-day of fishing, the three younger men announced they wanted to do some exploring. Unfortunately, the other three decided that was a good idea and they spent the day checking out the town of Playa del Carmen and the local beaches, rather than heading back to Tulum.
"We'll have to sneak out again tonight," Andy told Mulder as they went entered the restaurant where they were going to have dinner. "Or you could just tell Walter you want to check out some possible alien sightings at this ruin-"
"No, this is the kind of thing that just sets him off," Mulder responded, checking to make sure his surrogate father was nowhere in earshot. "Maybe I could say I really want to spend a day at the ruins...."
"Yeah. Except Joe will want to come. He loves anything historical," Andy advised him.
"Right. And this has already become a regular family excursion...." Fox said, a note of sarcasm creeping into his voice. He jumped when Andy swatted him on the butt.
"Watch it," Andy said ominously. Then he grinned and went to join the rest of the family as they were escorted to their table.
Mulder glanced around hurriedly to see if anyone had seen Andy smack him. A pretty, dark-haired waitress smiled at him.
"Crazy," he said to her. "The entire family. Absolutely crazy."
She smiled again. "No comprendo, senor," she said sweetly.
"Loco," he tried again. "La familia. Es ... mucho loco."
"Ah, si, senor," she replied. "Es su familia, si?"
He looked over at the group getting themselves arranged at the large round table. The Assistant Director caught his eye and motioned for him to join them. A lump formed in Mulder's throat for some reason. "Si," he said huskily. "That's my family."
A raucous dinner followed. Captain Esteban, the owner of their fishing charter boat, was also the proprietor of the restaurant just off the pier. He welcomed the Skinner family lavishly and had given them a table near the entertainment. A small band played and people danced and sang along. The evening was relaxed and festive.
"Having a good time, kid?" Skinner asked Mulder as they waited for dessert to be served.
"Yeah. I'm glad I came," the younger man replied. "I guess you knew I would be."
Skinner grinned at him. Fox had picked up a light sunburn that was quickly turning into a tan and the circles under his eyes were gone. It made the AD's heart glad to see him looking so healthy. He nodded. "Well, let's say I suspected you'd be okay once you got here."
The band took a break at that moment and a woman walked onto the stage. She had dark hair but the pale skin of a gringa. She had dark eyes, an ample bosom, and a cheerful, friendly countenance and she waited patiently as the busboy lifted a chair onto the small stage and placed it in the center. The restaurant quieted and the Skinner family watched, wondering what this was all about.
"Es la mujer de Esteban," the waitress told them as she served their coffee and placed a bottle of Kahlua on the table. "Captain Esteban's wife. An American lady. She is a great storyteller. She tells stories that are wonderful, stories that hold the attention of everyone."
"Storyteller?" Mike exclaimed. "Are they kidding?"
The other Skinner men stayed silent but they exchanged looks that echoed Mike's sentiment.
"How long do we have to stay not to appear rude?" Joe asked, leaning over to Walter.
"I don't know. Do I look like Emily Post to you?" his brother retorted. "We'll have to play it by ear."
Then the woman began to speak. Her story was about knights and castles dragons and Lords of the Realm. She wove a rich, sensual and surprisingly humorous narrative that held them spellbound for the better part of an hour as two rounds of coffee and countless shots of Kahlua were imbibed. When she finished her tale for the evening, promising to continue the next night, a rousing, standing ovation accompanied her retreat from the stage.
"Wow," Mike said as the band began setting up again. "Can we come back and hear the next part tomorrow?"
The others laughed. They'd been thinking the same thing.
"I have a feeling we'll be coming back every night while we're here," Walter Sr. said. "I don't know about you, but I want to know how that story comes out...."
Two nights later
Tulum, Mexico
Mulder and Andy were hidden behind one of the watchtowers, trying to see what was going on in the area behind the ancient city. There were about a dozen black shadows there, carrying sacks from trucks to a central point. In the almost pitch black under a moonless sky, it was hard to tell what they were moving.
"Do you think those are bodies?" Andy whispered. He shivered at the thought.
"I-I don't know," Mulder replied uncertainly. "Whatever it is, it's illegal. Otherwise no one would be out here under cover of darkness..."
"Thank God Mike was still sleeping when we left," Andy breathed. "Whatever this is, I wouldn't want him anywhere near it."
Mulder nodded silently. He'd been thinking the same thing.
"Those people you talked to yesterday, they said the locals don't come here any more," Andy said, almost as if he was reviewing the facts as a reality check. "Because people have been mysteriously disappearing. And those reports of UFO sightings in the area coincide with the disappearances. Isn't that enough to get an investigative team out here?"
Mulder shook his head. "Everybody's not like you, Andy," he responded. "Most people think I'm crazy for even believing-"
"Well, I don't think you're crazy," a voice piped up from behind them.
"Mike! What the hell are you doing here?" Mulder hissed.
"Michael Alexei Skinner, how did you get here?" Andy asked at the same moment.
"I drove the other jeep," Mike answered matter-of-factly. Somehow that tone, and the use of his full name, didn't have the same effect from Andy as when his Dad, Uncle Walter or Gran used them. "I can't believe you guys didn't wake me up. What's going on?" He spotted the shadows in the field behind the walls. "Who are they? What are they doing?"
Before either of the other two could answer, a sickeningly familiar clicking sound caught all of their attention. "We might ask the same of you," a heavily accented voice demanded their attention. The three of them were surrounded by four other men, with rifles cocked and pointed at them.
"Oh, shit," Mulder muttered as he and Andy instinctively closed ranks around Mike.
A few minutes later, back at the house, Walter Skinner woke suddenly as his brother Joe jostled him from a sound sleep.
"Wh-wha? Joe? What's wrong?" he asked as soon as his brain kicked into gear. Joe cocked his head toward the door and headed for it. Skinner rose quickly, moving silently so as not to wake their father. Once in the hall, he closed the door behind him. "What's wrong?"
"Mike's missing," Joe said quickly. "I woke up and he was gone. So I checked around the house and he's not here."
"Where would he go alone?" Skinner cut him off.
"That's just it. He's not alone-"
Skinner's eyes widened and then he strode toward the door to the room Andy and Fox were sharing. Turning on the light, he saw the beds had been slept in but were empty now. "Dammit."
"Exactly," Joe added. "Where would they have gone?"
Both of them were startled when the door to the room Walter and his Dad were sharing opened. "Where would who have gone?" the older man asked. He was alert and obviously concerned.
"Andy and Fox and Mike aren't here," Skinner said concisely, trying to minimize his own and Joe's concern. "But it's nothing to worry about. I-I think I know where they went." He strode past his father and into the bedroom where he began stripping off his nightclothes and getting dressed.
"You do?" Joe exclaimed. "Where?"
"Tulum. It's a historical site near here-"
"An old Mayan ruin," Joe responded. "I know. Why would they go there in the middle of the night?"
Skinner pressed his lips together. He was already berating himself for having used that little ruse to lure Fox down to Mexico. "Because Fox had seen some reports of UFO sightings there. I had some ... friends send them to him. I wondered why he hadn't made any attempt to check them out since we've been here...."
"Well, I'm going with you," Joe said firmly, heading into his own room to change.
In a couple of minutes all three of them were in the kitchen, dealing with yet another unwelcome surprise "They took both cars?" Skinner said. "Why the hell would they do that?"
"I don't know. Maybe they didn't all leave together," Joe replied. "We'll have to take the golf cart..."
"The golf cart won't go thirty miles, Joe," Skinner retorted. "There's an old pick-up truck behind the wall. I noticed it the other day. The keys are in it and it's got a half tank of gas. We'll take that-"
"Do you even know who the truck belongs to?" his father cut in.
"No. But this is an emergency. I'll work it out with whoever owns the truck later."
"Let's call Francisco," Walter Sr. said quickly. "I'm sure he can help-"
"Dad, no offense but Francisco's old. Very old. I wouldn't feel right waking him in the middle of the night for our little family emergency. And anyway, he'd probably be more trouble than help."
"No, I've been spending a lot of time talking with him this week. He's-" the elder Skinner said, only to be stopped again.
"Walter's right, Dad," Joe said quickly. "Francisco's a nice old guy but we need to get going. We can handle this."
"Well, I'll go with you-" the old man began, only to be interrupted by both of his sons.
"No, Dad," Joe said.
"No, you just go back to bed," the AD concurred. "We'll get the three musketeers and be back before you know it."
They were out the door before their father could argue the point.
The old rattle-trap of a truck barely started and it noisily lumbered out onto the dark road belching smoke from its tailpipe. Neither passenger noticed the old woman who ran out of the small house across the road, shouting at them in Spanish. Joe had a flashlight and a map and he muttered something about being doubtful they'd actually make it to Tulum.
"Well, I guarantee we'd never make it in that golf cart," his brother muttered under his breath as he gunned the gas pedal and saw the speedometer inch its way up to 30 m.p.h.
A few minutes later, Walter Sr. left the beach house and got into the golf cart. He started it up and rolled quietly out onto the road. But he turned in the other direction and headed into the small fishing village of Playa del Carmen.
Fox Mulder and Andy Skinner knelt with their hands behind their heads. They both watched the men who'd captured them warily. The two in charge were smart and probably ruthless, from what they'd seen. They were running drugs out of this location and using the locals' superstitions to keep the curious away. Until the three gringos had stumbled on their secret. The rest of the armed men, the foot soldiers, were either drunk or high or both. Either way, it spelled trouble for the three of them.
Mike Skinner knelt beside Mulder, drinking it all in avidly, not quite absorbing the full extent of their problem. "Wow," he said finally. "Nobody at home's ever gonna believe this."
Andy and Fox exchanged a worried glance. They could only pray he made it home to tell the story at this point.
Suddenly a blinding light appeared in the sky above them. It seemed to descend effortlessly, with barely any sound.
"What the hell is that?" Andy said.
"Is that a UFO?" Mike yelled excitedly.
Mulder stared at it, trying to ascertain exactly what it was. Then the telling sound appeared as well. It was a black helicopter, a new technology that significantly minimized the sound that normally accompanied helicopters in use. It landed almost silently, dropping straight down out of the dark sky and nestling into the area where they'd seen the markings in the mud before.
"What kind of drug-runners are these, with access to technology like that?" he said, speaking to himself more than anyone else. But no one got a chance to answer.
Glaring lights burst on all around the area surrounding them and three more helicopters suddenly appeared out of nowhere, their searchlights scanning the forest around them. Gunfire erupted and Mulder and Andy threw themselves on top of Mike, trying to stay as flat to the muddy ground as possible, not sure where the bullets were coming from. Or what their targets might be.
In what must have been no more than two minutes, but seemed like a lifetime, the drug-runners had been captured or killed. Mulder was the first to rise. "Is everyone all right?" he asked anxiously.
Andy nodded but he began patting down Michael. "Are you hurt anywhere, Mike?" he asked as he checked out his stunned nephew's condition.
"No. I'm fine. I-I can't believe what just happened. That was-that was the most amazing thing-"
"Put your hands up," a soldier in a familiar uniform told them. "Now! Hands up!"
"We're Americans," Mulder began to explain, not certain why they were being confronted by American soldiers but grateful just the same. "I'm a federal agent of the United States-"
"Yeah, right," the soldier told them. Two other soldiers appeared behind him, training their weapons on the mud-covered men. "Put your hands up or we'll shoot!"
Andy, Fox and Mike each raised their hands instantly.
"Tell me," Andy said quietly. "Are we better off now than before?"
The three of them were handcuffed and herded into a truck, along with the surviving drug-runners. They had no idea where they were going but in about an hour they were roughly taken out of the truck and marched in darkness to a building that held prison cells. The three of them were segregated from the others and left in a cell with two bunkbeds, a sink and a primitive open toilet. For the first time, Mike seemed to sense the seriousness of their situation.
"I hope you guys don't think I'm a baby," he said quietly as he took a seat on one of the lower bunks. "But I-I want my Dad."
Fox and Andy looked at him sympathetically. "Me, too," they each whispered under their breath.
A while earlier, Walter and Joe had been trundling along, trying to pick up some speed in the old truck, Joe poring over the map to try to find the turnoff to Tulum. Suddenly blinking lights appeared in the rear-view mirror.
"Thank God," he said. "Maybe we can get some help finding the way to Tulum." He didn't bother to add that Joe's map-reading left a lot to be desired. Skinner pulled the truck over to the side of the road and jumped out of his side. Joe followed suit on the passenger side.
Both men were shocked to be greeted by two members of Mexican state police training their pistols on them. Instinctively they both put their hands up as the policemen shouted at them in Spanish.
"What's he saying?" Joe asked Walter.
"I don't speak Spanish," Walter spit out.
"Well, for God's sake, show them your badge!"
"I would," Skinner replied succinctly. "If I had it with me. We rushed out so fast...."
Andy had wandered over to sit by Mike, sensing the young man was beginning to get the import of their situation. He put an arm around the boy's shoulders and Mike turned and buried his head in his uncle's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay, kid," Andy said, looking over his head and catching Mulder's eye.
For his part, Mulder was kicking himself internally. If he'd only ignored the stupid UFO sightings, none of them would be in this situation. Stuck in some Mexican jail, suspected of running drugs. If not for him, neither of the others would ever have seen the inside of a jail. He slammed his hand against the stucco wall in anger at himself. He blinked back tears as a bolt of pain shot up his arm and he instinctively pulled his hand back and started checking to see if it was broken. It was swelling a little but everything seemed to be intact. He cursed himself again.
"Mulder," Andy called but the young agent didn't answer.
"Fox William!"
Mulder's head snapped to the side and he met Andy's eyes.
"Come over here, Fox," Andy said quietly. He motioned to a place on the mattress beside him. Fox's eyes were burning with tears and the lump in his throat kept him from replying but Andy sensed where he was at the moment and persisted. "Come here. Now."
Mike had fallen asleep and Andy took the pillow at the end of the bed and put it on his lap, gently laying Mike down to rest his head on it as Fox slowly came to stand by the bunkbed. Andy waited for him to sit. He hesitated but finally Mulder realized Andy was not going to relent and he sat himself down. He stared at the floor under his feet, afraid to make eye contact with the other man.
"This is not your fault, Fox," Andy said gently.
"Yes, it is!"
"No, it isn't. I'm the one who insisted on going with you. And I'm the one who agreed to let Mike come. And anyway, I'm the oldest one here so ... by Skinner family tradition, I'm the one who's responsible." He tried to make it sound light-hearted but Fox was buying none of it.
"I should have told my Dad ... about the UFO sightings. I-I wasn't supposed to be working even! And now you guys are stuck in this godforsaken jail. I don't even know where the hell we are-"
"Xel-H(."
Mulder looked at him quizzically. "What?"
"This is the jail in Xel-H(. I've ... been here before."
Now Mulder's eyebrows shot up. "You have?"
Andy smiled and dropped an arm around the younger man's shoulder. He lowered the volume of his voice just a notch more. "Remember I told you I spent some time on the Yucatan Peninsula when I was younger? Blowing project completion bonuses, mostly. Well, one night I had way more tequila than any one is meant to ingest in a lifetime and I woke up in this jail with the hangover from Hell. I think I was here for five days. Could have been six. The first couple were a blur...."
Mulder fought it but the slightest smile worked its way to his lips. "Does your family know about that?" he asked incredulously.
Andy's eyes lit up with amusement. "No," he said firmly. "And they'll never hear it from you, will they?"
Mulder nodded in agreement. "So... you think we'll get out of this without getting punished? For sneaking out?," he asked hopefully.
Andy snorted. "In your dreams, kid," he said finally. "Mike may get a pass but you and me, we are in deep-"
At that moment a commotion at the other end of the corridor caught their attention. Mike stirred and sat up, then whooped with delight when he saw who was coming down the hall.
"Dad! Uncle Walter! I knew you'd find us! Can we go home now?"
Andy and Fox stood up, exchanging a look that bespoke their relief as well as their concern for what lay ahead for them. Mike couldn't look that far into the future but the two others suspected there'd be hell to pay for this fiasco. The guard opened the jail cell and ... pushed Joe, then the AD inside.
"What-what's going on?" Mike asked, the only one of the three to voice the question. Neither Joe nor Walter answered. Joe took the his son into his arms and hugged him tight.
"Thank God you're okay," he said as his older brother heaved a heavy sigh and threw himself down on the other bunkbed.
"I hear you're in for running drugs," he said to a shocked Andy and Fox in a tone that told them he knew there was not a whit of truth in the charge.
Andy was the first to find his tongue. "Yeah. That's what we surmised. What about you?"
Skinner stared at them balefully for a moment, then he sighed again. "Grand theft auto. I think."
"You stole a car?" Mulder blurted out, unable to fathom the circumstance in which such a thing might happen.
"You took both of the jeeps," Skinner responded immediately. "And I think 'borrowed' is the correct term."
"I told you we should have taken the golf cart-" Joe began again.
"Joe, if you mention that golf cart one more time, I'm gonna have to hurt you," the AD growled. He pointed to the other bunkbed. "You guys get that one. This one's mine."
"There are four of us," Andy began to protest but the AD cast a stony glare his way. "I mean... there are two beds in each bunk...." His voice withered to a squeak as the oldest brother stared him down. He swallowed hard. "Well, we'll take this one then. You can have that side of the cell to yourself...."
"Shut up, Andy," Joe said as he and Mike took the bottom bunk. Andy and Fox stared at the top one for a few seconds, then they began climbing up. Unfortunately for Fox, Andy got the side by the wall. The young FBI agent lay down wondering whether the fall off the top bunk would kill him. *It's either that or string myself up with my shoelaces when everyone else is sleeping. I didn't think to put on a belt before we left.* Then another thought hit him and he looked around the dimly lit cell. He lay back down and exhaled a sigh of relief. No one else had remembered to put on a belt either. *Thank you, God! Even a small favor's appreciated at this point!*
Daylight broke a while later, throwing a thin shaft of light through the small window of the jail cell. The door at the end of the corridor outside the cells banged open once again and all five of them woke with a start. They sat up, each wondering what the hell was happening now. Trying to get their eyes to adjust to thelight, they saw the jail door open and in stepped Walter Sr., followed by Francisco, the caretaker at their rented house. And the chief of the police department, accompanied by two of his men.
"Well, this is a sight that will make a man proud," Walter Sr. said dryly, as he looked around the jail cell.
The AD stood up first. "Dad, we need you to make some phone calls. There's been a couple of big mistakes made-"
"Yes. I know," the elder Skinner replied. "You never gave me a chance to tell you this but Francisco here..." He turned and gestured to the old man who now stood beside him. "Francisco was the chief of the federal police in Mexico for thirty years. His son is the chief of the local province now. He's cleared up those ... mistakes." He looked around the room, catching the eye of each of his sons pointedly. "At least the ones the Mexican officials were responsible for...."
Walter, Joe, Andy and Fox exchanged a communal look that was layered with meaning. Relief. Chagrin. Embarrassment. And something else only a Skinner could understand. There would be consequences at the end of this fiasco. But Mike was operating on another plane.
"Well, thank God for you, Gran. And you too, Senor Mendoza," he said as he headed for the jail cell door and freedom. "I'm starving. And I'd hate to miss one of Senora Mendoza's great breakfasts!"
The breakfast she laid out for them that day outdid all her previous offerings. "I don't know when food ever tasted this good," Andy told her in his fair to middling Spanish. She gave him a fond smile and told him he needed to fatten up a little.
Walter and Joe and Andy and Fox fell over themselves thanking Francisco for his assistance. The older man took their thanks graciously, explaining that no one really thought they had done anything wrong. "It's just the system. The American and Mexican authorities have been watching that site for some time. You just stumbled into it all at the wrong time. There will be no record of any of this."
The four men knew they'd collectively done several things "wrong" but there was no need to fill Fransciso in on all of that. Walter offered to pay the lady across the road for her truck but Francisco insisted that was unnecessary. "Pay her for the gasoline. The excitement was the best thing to happen to her in ten years," he said with a smile. "And besides, she doesn't drive."
Once breakfast was over, Fox, Andy and Mike began talking about what they would do. It was their last full day in Mexico and they wanted to go to the beach. And then go into town to buy souvenirs.
Walter Sr. cleared his throat ominously. "I think, after last night's debacle, everyone should go to their room."
The four men looked at him in surprise but Mike high-tailed it out of the room and up the stairs without a second thought.
"But Dad," Andy began to protest. "It's our last full day and-"
"Andrew Nikolai, don't make me repeat myself. I said, go to your room!" his father bellowed. He looked at Fox next but the younger agent, along with Andy, needed no further prompting. They nearly fell over themselves getting out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Joe and Walter laughed out loud, watching them. Joe turned back to his father and brother once they were gone. "They're like the two stooges-" he chuckled, until he saw the look on Walter's face. "Oh, come on! What'd I do?-" He stopped himself as his father turned an icy glower his way. "Okay! Fine! I'm going to bed." He turned on his heel and stomped off.
The AD let the smile return to his own face as he watched Joe go. "Well, there goes the third stooge," he said. He turned to his father and saw the same cold stare the older man had just given Joe. Walter Sr.'s hands went to his hips and Skinner found his knees were becoming surprisingly wobbly.
"The way I see it, none of this fiasco would have happened if you hadn't had someone send Fox fake UFO pictures," his father said.
Skinner swallowed hard. "Well... it seemed like a good idea at the time," he offered "To get him to come down to Mexico. And ...recuperate."
"It seems to me that telling him he was expected to come would have worked. Or taking him by the ear and hauling him to the airport if he didn't get it the first time," his father replied firmly. "Those old, tried and true methods always worked with you boys. I never had to trick you into doing what you were supposed to do."
Skinner knew where this was going. And truth be told, he was in complete agreement with his father on this one. But that didn't make it any easier. He rubbed a hand over his face, then looked into the older man's face. "Well... I am feeling a little tired. I think I'll turn in now," he said finally.
"Good idea, son," his father said succinctly.
Once the Assistant Director left the room, Walter Sr. finally let the smile he'd been suppressing come.
Francisco appeared in the doorway from the kitchen. "Families. You cannot live with them. They cannot live without you, es verdad?"
Mr. Skinner reseated himself at the table as Francisco poured them both a fresh cup of coffee.
"My work is not done yet," Walter Sr. said, nodding to himself. He was tired from being up all night but he had a burst of energy he had not felt in a long time. His sons still needed him. "Not nearly done yet."
"Si," Francisco agreed. "These young ones, they still need our help."
Mr. Skinner lifted his coffee cup and toasted his host. "That's right," he said. "And I'm not gonna let them forget it."
Upstairs, Skinner finished washing up and started for the bedroom he was sharing with his father. He considered visiting Fox and Andy, and administering a couple of well-deserved spankings but he wanted to be asleep himself before the older man came up. And besides, his own actions hadn't been completely above reproach on this trip. He didn't want to give the older man any ideas.
A door across the hall opened and Fox peeked out as if he was checking to see if it was all clear. Skinner gave him a half-smile that communicated he was free to use the bathroom. The younger man smiled back sheepishly and crept across the hall.
"Don't take this the wrong way," he said quietly, "but sometimes Gran scares me."
Skinner stopped walking and bit back a smile. "Really?"
"Yeah. To be honest, he scares me, you scare me, Joe scares me... Sometimes even Andy scares me."
Skinner pressed his lips together to keep the smile back. "Well, my Dad can be a little frightening sometimes, I'll give you that," he said philosophically. "It's part of the job description, at least in my family! But eventually, you get to a point where you have an equal, adult relationship. Where you can relate as two peers...."
Fox nodded respectfully, even a little awed. He had a hard time thinking he'd ever fully reach that kind of relationship with Skinner, let alone his father. "I guess. It's just hard to imagine.... When did that happen for you? With your Dad?"
The AD thought about his answer for a couple of seconds, trying to determine just how much to tell this young man, his beloved surrogate son. But honesty was always the best policy. That truth had been driven home to him today even if he hadn't known it before. He fixed Fox with his most serious expression. "I'm thinking it could happen any day now," he said evenly. Then he smacked the younger man's pajama-clad butt and headed into his own room, chuckling.
Fox snorted, a half laugh, half "ouch" that made his heart feel lighter. Everything was going to be okay, he knew. Somehow he and Andy had slipped below the Skinner radar screen-
"Oh, by the way," Skinner said, turning back momentarily. "When we get home, you and Andy and I are gonna have a long discussion about that "sneaking out" thing. Bad idea, Fox. Really bad."
Mulder's mouth opened into a surprised, silent 'oh.' Then he found his voice. "Yes, sir," he sighed as the AD gave him a sympathetic wave and disappeared into his own room. "Damn!"
The next day
Captain Esteban's Pier
The Skinners were saying their good-byes to the Captain and his crew. They'd just finished lunch at the restaurant and were about to depart for the airport. They'd come for lunch, hoping to hear the Storyteller one more time.
After dinner the night before she'd begun a new story, this one was about pirates and a young boy who was rescued from a life as an indentured servant by the pirate captain. As his cabin boy, the young man sailed the seas with the pirates, meeting and raiding other ships and having all sorts of adventures, then sailing back to their island hideaway. Everyone had been looking forward to hearing where this story would end up but the Storyteller didn't appear before they had to go.
Francisco and his wife had been invited to join the family for lunch and now they were standing on the dock, chatting with Mr. Skinner and Joe and Andy. The luggage was packed and in the back of the jeeps and the vehicles were gassed up and ready to go.
"Let's get going," Skinner said finally. "We've got a long ride to the airport and we have to check in two hours before the flight."
They were just about ready to leave when Fox suddenly realized he was missing something. "My carry-on. Did someone put it in one of the jeeps?"
No one had and he started thinking back to where he'd had it last. "I think I left it in the restaurant," he said.
"Hurry up and get it," Skinner called to him impatiently as the young agent began to jog back toward the restaurant. "Sometimes I think he'd lose his head if it wasn't attached...."
Mulder entered the restaurant and headed back to the table the family had just departed. Sure enough, his bag was in the corner behind the table. He lifted it up and swung it onto his shoulder just as the Storyteller was climbing onto the small stage. She saw him and gave him a tender smile. He waved a little, not sure if he was the recipient of that smile but not wanting to be rude. There was something kind and enigmatic about her. The woman seated herself and began to speak.
This time her story was not a continuation of the night before. "This is a story about a young man," she began. "A handsome young man, though he would not say so himself. He was a federal agent but not one who spent his time chasing bank robbers or drug dealers. No, this young man saw things as no one else could, he knew there were visitors to Earth from planets, and threats to mankind other men could not begin to conceive. He faced the kinds of demons that terrified other men. And unraveled mysteries that others could not comprehend.... Always in search of the Truth...."
Mulder's mouth dropped open. He stood, riveted in his place until Andy appeared at the door.
"Fox!" he called. "Let's go. Walter's getting impatient."
Mulder watched the Storyteller for another few seconds.
"This handsome, some might even say beautiful, young man was a handful of trouble though. For his superiors. And the people who loved him," she continued. "He often followed his heart instead of his head and that always led him into trouble.... But luckily, someone in his life loved him enough to stop him from going too far, from stepping over the edge into disaster...."
Andy motioned again and this time Mulder walked out of the restaurant and up to the two jeeps filled with Skinners. Andy got in one and Fox stopped between the two parked vehicles. "Okay, who told her about me?" he demanded.
"What are you talking about?" Joe asked him curiously from the second car. "Who told who about you?"
"The Storyteller lady. How does she know about me?
"Fox, get in the jeep," Skinner ordered. "No one told her about you. No one even talked to her. We don't know anything about her except she's Esteban's wife." He glared at the younger man until Fox finally hopped into the back seat. He put the jeep in gear and began to pull out of the space. "And she tells a great story."
"Well, I know her name's DiAnn," Mike added. He was sitting in the back seat beside Mulder. "I saw a picture hanging on a wall in the restaurant from the local newspaper. Captain Esteban and his wife DiAnn."
"One of you people told her about me," Mulder insisted. "How would she know.... all the stuff she knew?"
Skinner grinned at him in the rear view mirror. "I've told you this before, Fox. Not everything is about you."
"Well, that story she was beginning was about me," Mulder said impatiently. "Come to think of it, all those stories might have been about me."
Skinner looked at him quizzically. "Did you get a little too much sun while we were here?" he asked, concerned.
Walter Sr. cut him off. "Enough. Let's go home," he said. "Nobody loves a good story more than me, but I think it's time we all got back to reality."
The AD steered the jeep out onto the highway and Joe pulled the second car up behind him.
"I don't know about you," Mulder said, settling back for the ride to the airport. "But sometimes I think reality's not all it's cracked up to be."
"Well, one good thing came out of this trip," Mike said to no one in particular. "I know what I want to be now. I mean, for a career."
"You do?" his grandfather asked. They'd all wondered when Mike would settle down and find something he wanted to study in college. "What?"
"An FBI agent," Mike said.
"Like your Uncle Walter?" the older man asked with a proud smile.
"Yeah, kinda. Well, actually, I want to work on the X-Files. Now that I've seen it up close, I think what Fox does is way cooler than any other job...."
There was a moment of stunned silence in the jeep, then Walter Sr. spoke up. "Well, I think that's a fine idea, Michael," he said.
Skinner looked at his Dad, then he flashed him a tired half-smile. "Yeah," he said quietly, making certain that only his father would hear. "As if I don't already have enough problems.... The two of them on the X-Files. Early retirement's starting to look more appealing every day."
THE END