Fox fought his nervousness as he knocked on Skinner’s door. He remembered their last conversation. ‘No!’ ‘But…’ ‘No buts Mulder. There is no way I could do that kind of stuff to you.’ ‘Couldn’t you just try it once? If you couldn’t do it, I’d resign. You wouldn’t have to see me again.’ ‘Mulder!’ Skinner said crossly. ‘Please?’ Skinner made the mistake of making eye contact with Mulder at that moment. He doubted Mulder understood the power of his pouting, tearful, kicked puppy expression. ‘Come over Friday night. We’ll watch the game and then we’ll talk about it.’ Instantly, Mulder’s face changed. He smiled, getting to his feet. ‘Yes sir.’ ********** Expecting a take-out or some beer, Skinner was a little surprised to see Mulder’s hands full of bags. He looked pointedly at them. ‘Can I stay over? Please.’ Skinner frowned. ‘Is there a problem with your own apartment Mulder?’ Mulder nodded miserably. ‘I…um, was…burgled. It’s kind of a mess.’ Skinner sighed inwardly. He was getting better at interpreting Mulder’s words. He wondered when he would get the truth. ‘Okay. D’you have everything you need?’ Mulder dropped his holdall and suit holder onto the polished wood floor. ‘Yeah. Um, thanks.’ Skinner half-smiled. ‘You can unpack and them come and siddown. Game’s almost starting.’ He walked up the stairs and Mulder followed slowly, hands full. ************ ‘I can’t get back in my apartment. It’s been let.’ Skinner was about to ask Mulder what the Hell he was talking about when he remembered. Mulder’s Dom had paid the rent. He probably owned the lease on the apartment. His last, spiteful, act before he left had been to leave Mulder homeless. Knowing there was only one possible response to Mulder’s casual comment, Skinner said: ‘You can stay here ‘til we find you somewhere, okay?’ Mulder nodded. ‘Thanks.’ ‘You keep your room tidy, okay.’ Mulder nodded, smiling for the first time in what felt like weeks. ‘Yes sir.’   *************** Mulder woke slowly, enjoying the warmth and clean smells of his room and the apartment beyond. Whatever he did, which was, he admitted, little, his own place always smelled damp and faintly unpleasant. Skinner’s apartment smelled of polish, expensive aftershave and appetising food. He heard the front door open, then Skinner called: ‘Mulder, you awake?’ Slowly, Mulder pulled himself out of bed, pulled on a threadbare towelling robe and walked down the stairs. ‘Good morning. I got you a paper. You can look for an apartment.’ Skinner handed Mulder the paper and dropped his keys onto the coffee table. ‘Morning sir. Thanks.’ ‘I’m gonna shower, You wanna start breakfast?’ ‘Okay.’ Mulder had little confidence that he would manage anything more exotic than eggs and toast, but he didn’t think Skinner would mind for once. ************* Skinner came down the stairs a lot more quickly than Mulder had, and poked his head into the kitchen. ‘Need a ha…’ He took in the war zone that had been his orderly kitchen and just stared. Eventually, forcing himself to remain calm, he said shakily: ‘Tomorrow, we’ll eat out.’ ************* It took Mulder most of the morning to tidy the kitchen, even with Skinner’s help. ‘Mulder, what the Hell did you need olives for?’ ‘I didn’t. I pulled the paprika out of the cupboard, and a load of other stuff came with it.’ Mulder said matter-of-factly. Shaking his head, Skinner replaced the jar of olives in the cupboard. Finally, they were done. ‘There’s a basketball hoop at the end of the block. You want a game before lunch?’ Skinner offered. Mulder grinned. ‘One-on-one? Okay. Just let me change.’ ‘Yuh. Are you still hungry? You seem to be wearing more food than you ate.’ Skinner teased gently. ‘Sorry.’ Mulder said, instantly contrite. Skinner added ‘teasing’ to the list of things Mulder couldn’t cope with. ‘I was joking Mulder. Go get changed. I’ll meet you out front.’ ************* ‘So did you think about it?’ Mulder said breathlessly, retrieving the ball for the hundredth time after Skinner had outsmarted him and dunked it in the net. ‘Yeah. Mulder, think back. Before Rob.’ Mulder shrugged. ‘I don’t remember.’ ‘You were happier Mulder.’ Skinner insisted. ‘Maybe.’ Mulder admitted. ‘Definitely.’ Skinner said firmly. ************** ‘I’m gonna die alone. Hanging.’ Mulder said offhandedly, catching the ball as Skinner threw it to him. Skinner stopped moving and looked at Mulder. ‘How the Hell do you know that?’ ‘Someone told me once.’ ‘And you believed them?!’ Skinner snapped. ‘Yeah.’ ‘Mulder, you’re smart. Why d’you think someone would say something like that?’ ‘Because it’s true.’ Mulder said, with little conviction. ‘Or maybe because they wanted to scare you. And they knew exactly which buttons to press.’ Skinner said, raising his eyebrows. Mulder’s cheeks flushed, and he bounced the ball aimlessly several times until he felt the heat dissipate. ‘Had enough?’ Skinner asked after a pause. Mulder nodded. ‘Yeah.’ ************** The smoke curled round them as Skinner looked up from his newspaper and coffee. ‘What do you want?’ Skinner valued the short periods of peace and quiet in the coffee shop, and was not pleased to see Spender. ‘I understand the Senator left suddenly.’ ‘I wouldn’t know.’ Skinner muttered, hardly looking up. ‘You must be like ‘The Odd Couple’. You couldn’t be more different.’ ‘You done?’ Skinner asked irritably. ‘Fox has…specific needs. Are you sure you can handle him?’ Skinner’s eyes narrowed and he looked up. ‘Yeah. I’m sure.’ Spender shrugged. ‘At least we can rely on you to be a little more…discreet.’ ‘We?’ Skinner queried, not interested in the answer. Or picking up the business card Spender dropped next to his cup. ‘I didn’t get twelve across either.’ Spender got up, his finger jabbing at the crossword, and was gone before Skinner could think of anything to say in response. ************ Looking round the floor, Mulder realised his clothes had been picked up. He opened the closet door cautiously and was relieved that Skinner hadn’t tidied them away. Maybe, he worried, Skinner had become angry at Mulder’s lack of tidiness and simply thrown his clothes out. Mulder got up and reached round the back of the door to unhook his robe. In its place was a thick, almost blindingly white, replacement. Wrapping it around himself and tying the belt tightly, Mulder made his way downstairs, hoping his nervousness wasn’t too obvious. ‘Morning.’ He got his word in first, hoping the extra seconds it would buy him would be sufficient time to allow him to gauge exactly how angry Skinner was. ‘Your stuff’s in the wash. When it’s dry, you can iron it. And hang it up.’ ‘Okay.’ Relieved, Mulder helped himself to a mug of coffee, hoping it would bring him near to the level of consciousness Skinner seemed to manage effortlessly first thing in the morning. He was showered, shaved and dressed already. And it was only seven am. Mulder sat down, wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and stared into the swirling steam until Skinner put down the paper. ‘Mulder, we need to have a talk about some things.’ Here it comes. I’m tired of having you around. Move out. And while you’re at it, put in a transfer request. ‘Okay.’ Mulder said miserably. ‘Tell me how you met Rob.’ ‘At a club.’ Skinner’s mind went to the card in his wallet. ‘And?’ He prompted. ‘Catherine, she, um, owns the club. She introduced us.’ Skinner didn’t miss the flush which was quickly covering Mulder’s sleep-pale face. Gently, he asked: ‘Did he always hurt you?’ Mulder shook his head. ‘Not in the beginning. But…’ ‘Were you lovers?’ Mulder’s head snapped up and he stared at Skinner before answering. ‘No!’ Skinner looked away, equally embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry Mulder. I’m just trying to understand how…’ ‘Someone like me could let someone like him do that kind of stuff?’ Mulder asked angrily. ‘Yeah.’ Skinner admitted. Mulder laughed hollowly. ‘It probably goes back to my parents, or Samantha, or a past life. I don’t know.’ His voiced tailed off, the confusion in his tone evident. ‘Did you ever think there might be another way?’ ‘No.’ Mulder said, his tone indicating that even Skinner should have been able to work out what his answer was going to be before he spoke. ‘You hungry?’ Skinner said, the change of subject deliberate. He didn’t want to push Mulder too far and risk losing him to another Rob. Mulder nodded. ‘Get dressed. After the last time, there’s no way I’m letting you do anything in my kitchen other than sit.’ Skinner’s smile took the edge off the sharp words and Mulder got up, heading back upstairs. Continued in Part Six Home Send me feedback on this fic Return to the X-Files Fic Index Return to the West Wing Fic Index