Title: Boot Camp Walter sighed and turned back to his IRS guidance notes. When they were planning something Alex and Fox were about as subtle as a luminous brick thrown through your window. Whispering in corners then becoming immediately and blushingly silent when he came into the room. Giggling over dinner or while watching TV just because they made eye contact at that moment. He had long since resigned himself to having to put up with the annual irritation in the weeks immediately before his birthday. So far, it had always been worth the stress. ************** Fox emerged from his shower, one towel round is waist, the other around his shoulders and dropped onto the bed next to Alex. 'We could ask John.' Alex shook his head. 'Nah. It's gotta be someone older, remember?' Fox sighed. 'We don't know anyone older.' Alex was stumped too. What had seemed like a brilliantly simple plan was rapidly turning into a stupid idea. 'We could hire someone.' Fox stared at Alex. 'Walter would kill us!' Alex shrugged. 'Okay. We'll just have to think of something else.' Fox sighed heavily. 'It's only four weeks away.' 'Yeah. Get dressed. We'll think of something. I'm gonna sit outside for a while. Maybe the fresh air'll do it.' ************** Frank Harris stretched his back and groaned as he looked up from the flower bed he had been weeding. He knew his neighbors' garden was much less high-maintenance than his own and seriously contemplated copying the idea of a small patio area and leaving the rest as grass. He could hear Fox and Alex in the garden, their voices carrying over the fence. 'Four weeks Fox. We need to think of something.' Both turned as the gate between their garden and their neighbor's opened. 'Hey boys.' 'Hi Mr Harris. What's up?' Fox saw Harris rubbing the small of his back. 'I'm getting too old to keep planting flowers is what's up Fox.' Harris said resignedly. 'Weeds are just everywhere this year. What's happening in four weeks?' 'It's Walter's birthday. We thought of something, and now we can't do it, so we've got to think of something else.' Fox said dejectedly. Alex's eyes were drawn to Harris' upper arm. 'Um, Mr Harris, were you in the military?' Harris realised what Alex was looking at. 'Yup. USMC. I was a medic. I thought you knew.' Alex's slow smile spread to Fox's face and the two younger men turned their smiles onto Harris. 'We could, um, do your weeding sir.' Alex said politely. 'I'd pay you.' Harris offered. Fox shook his head. 'No. But there is something you could do for us. Can we...come over later?' 'Sure. I'm in all evening.' Alex and Fox exchanged relieved grins. 'We'll be over around eight.' Harris walked across to the gate. 'Okay. See you later.' ************ 'We're...um...going for a walk.' Fox lied totally unconvincingly as he and Alex grabbed their jackets. 'Okay.' Walter said, pretending total disinterest. ********** Harris listened to Fox and Alex's idea for Walter's birthday. And tentatively suggested he might get involved. 'I might be able to help you out boys. Cousin of mine runs a company specialising in that kind of thing. Now, where did I put his number?' Fox looked at Alex, who nodded slightly. 'Um, Mr Harris, would you help us out another way?' 'What did you have in mind boys?' Harris asked absently, still searching for the elusive business card. ************* Hoping he wasn't trapped in a nightmare, Walter sat up, blinking. The bedroom, the bed, all familiar. Then he saw the neatly folded pile of clothes, topped with a pair of shiny boots. He looked along the bed and took in the combat fatigues, the embroidered name - Harris - in the dark green rectangle on the chest...He relaxed. It was a dream. Or rather a nightmare. And he would wake up any moment. He reached across the bed for Fox and Alex and his fingers encountered only cold sheets. Walter didn't have time to wonder how the set of combat fatigues came to be piled at the end of the bed. He was too busy listening to the shouted orders. Get up. Get showered. Get dressed. Get on parade. When he didn't move, Harris shouted: 'In the shower in five Marine, or you'll be sorry.' 'Wha...what the Hell...' Walter was still trying to figure out how his neighbor came to be standing at the end of his bed when his hand went to his neck. Dog tags. He was wearing dog tags. He fingered the cold metal for a moment before Harris shouted: 'NOW!' Hoping it was the late-night snack which had induced the dream, Walter got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face didn't seem to help. Standing under the shower didn't do it either. He was still dreaming. Then a pair of army-issue underpants came flying into the room and Walter stared at them before turning the shower off and wrapping a towel around his waist. 'Get out here right now!' Walter quickly tugged on the underpants and walked from the room, shaking his head. 'Do you remember how to address a superior officer Marine?' Walter swallowed hard. 'Sir yes sir.' 'I didn't hear you.' 'SIR YES SIR!' Walter shouted, deciding to go along with the dream. For the moment. 'Outside in ten Captain.' This time, Harris let Skinner get away without a reply. ************* The Jeep covered the miles in bone-rattling style. Despite his increasingly angry pleading, Harris refused to divulge their destination. All he would let on to Walter was that it was a surprise, and he would enjoy himself when he got there. Eventually, Walter slumped in the seat and endured the remainder of the journey in silence. ************* 'I'll be back to pick you up Sunday night.' Harris tossed over his shoulder as he pulled away. Not knowing what else to do, Walter headed for a wooden building a few hundred yards away, feeling stupid in his form-fitting and hardly-worn combat fatigues and barely-scuffed boots. ************ 'My name is Lieutenant Colonel Palmer. This weekend will test you mentally and physically. You will be assigned ranks, carry out duties and, when we're out on patrol, live off the land. You will maintain discipline. You will forget who you were. For the next two days, you are US Marines. Any questions?' There were none, and Palmer nodded. 'Thirty minutes to eat dinner, then showers, then lights out. Go!' Walter joined the other...he wasn't sure what to call them. Recruits? Soldiers? He gave up, joined the queue for food and held out his molded metal plate when he reached the head of the line. The quality and quantity of food, he noted with a grimace, hadn't altered since his time in the USMC. ********** Neither, he realised with a shiver as he stood under the meagre water spray, had the temperature of the water. *********** Palmer looked round the room, filled with men in various states of undress as they prepared for bed. 'Okay, listen up. 0530 tomorrow we head out. We'll be out overnight, and return around 1600 Sunday. You'll be divided into groups of six. Each group will have four privates, a captain and a major. You will have basic packs, medical kits and bottles of water. You will eat what you catch or find. Anyone want to leave now?' There was an uncomfortable silence before the LC - Walter had stopped thinking of him as a civilian some time ago - looked up from his notes. 'Okay. We're gonna assign ranks randomly. When your name is called, step up, take a piece of paper from this box and sit down again.' 'Skinner.' Walter walked up to the box, pulled a small piece of paper out and looked at the number as he walked back to his bed. Three. He had no idea what that signified. 'What you get?' The man sitting on the next bed whispered. 'Three Delta.' Walter hissed. 'I got...' The man stopped talking as he realised all eyes were on him. 'Somethin' you wanna share with the group Miller?' Miller scrambled to his feet. 'Sir no sir!' The LC snapped: 'Siddown, shuddup and remind me that you're taking first watch when we get out there.' Miller saluted crisply. 'Sir yes sir.' Walter groaned inwardly. What the Hell had he let himself in for? ************ It was a fine day, and, although there was plenty of material lying around, some of it clearly brought in for their benefit, Walter decided they'd all had enough without having to build what would probably be an unnecessary shelter. 'Captain Saunders.' Saunders came across. 'Sir?' 'I'm thinking it's gonna be a dry day. And warm. Think we need to build a shelter?' 'No sir.' One of the men, a tall thin man in his late thirties, looked around. 'Where are the tents?' 'Tents, Private Dixon?' Walter echoed. 'What are you gonna do that you need a tent to do it in?' The snickers of laughter at the crude remark made Walter feel just a little guilty. But it was obvious to anyone with half a brain that their packs could never contain even the smallest tent. 'We're sleeping...' 'Under the stars. Yup.' Saunders said brightly, enjoying the look of undisguised horror which crossed the younger man's face. Two of the men paled at the idea of having nothing between them and whatever happened by but their sleeping bags, but the other four, Walter included, had evidently spent many nights in the open, and were unconcerned. 'Let's get a fire going, set some traps and rig up some fish hooks.' Although they wouldn't starve with the ration packs they carried, Walter decided some fresh fish - he was not hopeful they would snare anything with fur or feathers - would make a better meal. Two of the men groaned audibly. They had dropped to the ground immediately Walter had decided where they would camp, and Dixon said: 'We just walked, like ten miles. Can we do that stuff later?' 'It was just under 2 miles.' Walter said, consulting his map. 'And no, unless you wanna hike back on your own, you'll do 'that stuff' now. Well?' Sighing theatrically, Dixon pulled himself upright. Saunders walked to the water's edge, shrugged off his pack and opened it, rummaging around until he found the coil of wire. Walter busied himself fashioning a snare, covering the wire with leaves and earth. 'How's it going?' Saunders asked. Startled by the voice, Walter turned. 'It's been a while since I did this.' 'Yeah. It's been a while since we did a lot of things, right?' Walter nodded. 'Yuh.' 'You were in the Corps?' Walter sighed. 'Yeah. You?' Saunders nodded. 'Til I got thrown out.' Walter frowned. 'Why?' Saunders shrugged. 'Not important.' Walter respected the man's privacy and turned back to his task. 'Make sure it's well-buried. Ground's dry round here I noticed.' Walter nodded. 'Yeah.' He was shocked when Saunder's hand brushed his. 'Er, Captain...' 'Sir?' Saunders asked innocently. Embarrassed, Walter shook his head. 'Nothing. Fishing lines done?' 'Sir yes sir.' Saunders replied, his voice softly provocative. Ignoring the unspoken implication of their conversation, Walter got up. 'We need to get the rest of the camp set up.' 'Yes sir.' Saunders said, obviously disappointed. Walter swallowed hard, composed his features into a professional mask and walked away. //Dammit! Saunders was practically offering himself on a plate and Walter had brushed him off. It wasn't that he didn't recognise that Saunders understood him, it was that he couldn't think about it. Not even in his mind. He had Fox and Alex.// His fantasy had been formed in his mind long before he ever set eyes on either of them. And voiced not long before they started living together. After which time he never spoke of it again. Fox and Alex's recent insistence that he play out their little fantasy had clearly been the catalyst behind this weekend, reminding them that his fantasy remained unfulfilled. When Saunders had hit on him, it had only served as a reminder that it always would. He couldn't even imagine being, let alone actually be, unfaithful. He loved Fox and Alex. And was loved by them. He didn't need his fantasy any more. The sudden realisation made him smile. ************* With the exception of Saunders, Walter noted, the other men seemed quite content to wait for instructions. Walter looked around the men. 'I need a volunteer.' 'What for?' Dixon asked disinterestedly. After the hike to the point marked on the map and half and hour collecting material for a fire, he was exhausted. 'Thank you Private Dixon.' Walter said cheerfully, handing the man a folding shovel. 'Get digging.' 'Digging what?' The man asked. 'The latrine.' Saunders bit back a smile. 'Make it downwind and far enough away we won't smell it and close enough we won't get lost finding it.' The man didn't move. 'Um, which...er...way is downwind?' Walter picked up a handful of dry leaves and opened his hand. He pointed to his left. 'That way.' ************** Walter was amazed that anything was brave enough to get close enough to their encampment to blunder into their trap. But the scrabbling sound told him something had. He hoped it was a little bigger than a squirrel. Dividing something that small between six of them would be interesting. He sent Saunders off to check the fishing lines while he went to see what they'd caught. The other four trailed after him like nervous kids. Dixon pulled the peg out of the ground, lifted the rabbit towards him and stared at it. 'How do we...kill it?' Walter stared in disbelief as there were shrugs and muttering all around him. 'Oh, for...' Walter grabbed the rabbit, knelt up, tucked its back legs between his own, took a knife from his back pocket, pulled the head back and slit its throat. As he skinned it, one of the men who had been crouched next to him could be heard retching, thankfully from some distance away. Dixon looked at Walter with undisguised admiration. 'Sir, where did you learn to do that?' 'Vietnam.' Walter hissed, skewering the rabbit and balancing it on the spit above the fire. One or two of the men around him began to look at Walter differently. Dixon, whom Walter guessed didn't like that he was in charge, challenged: 'Ever kill anyone?' Saunders could have told the cocky New Yorker that this was something you never, ever asked a soldier. But it was too late. Walter stared at the man. 'Yeah. Want me to demonstrate?' He held up the knife and its bloodstained tip caught the light of the fire. The long-haired man moved away, his swinging pony tail somehow out of place among the various uniformed men clustered around the weak heat and light of the dying fire. 'Fire needs building up.' Walter observed. Without being asked, Dixon, and an older man, his badge indicating his name was Carter, got up and began to gather bits and pieces. ************ As per his orders, at 10am Walter opened the envelope containing their task. It was apparently simple - locate and retrieve two items both, according to Walter's map-reading, buried within two miles of the camp. 'Captain, take two men and head for here...' Walter indicated the spot on his map and Saunders marked his own copy with the location of the buried item. 'I'll take two men, retrieve the other item and we'll rendezvous back here at...' Walter looked at his watch and tried to calculate how long it would take the three men to make the trip. 'One o'clock. Dixon, Manning, with me.' Saunders nodded his agreement. 'Carter, Rogers, with me.' Saunders hoped Rogers would encourage Carter to maintain something close to a decent pace, otherwise allowing them even three hours it was going to be close. ************** Saunders made it back in just under three hours, Carter arrived some time later and from a different direction, having evidently got lost at some point within a few hundred yards of the camp after Saunders lost patience with his griping and left him to walk the last quarter mile on his own. 'Captain, a word?' Walter said, his tone making everyone uneasy. Saunders got up and followed Walter to a spot a few hundred yards away. 'Is that how you treat your men? Leaving behind the slow ones? What the Hell were you thinking?' Walter demanded. Saunders was torn between being angry at being yelled at and embarrassed that he had allowed himself to be pushed into leaving Carter behind. 'Sorry sir.' Walter ignored the less than respectful tone the words were delivered in. 'Don't let it happen again Captain.' 'No sir.' Saunders began to walk away and Walter's hand on his shoulder stopped him. 'They have no idea what it was like, and running around in the woods for two days won't teach them anything. But we do know. And it's up to us to make it as real for them as we can. You would never have left a man behind over there, and you can't do it here. Okay?' Saunders nodded. 'Yes sir. Sorry sir. It won't happen again.' Walter smiled and Saunders relaxed a fraction. 'I think we're done with eating the local wildlife sir. Let's break into our rations. The men deserve it.' Walter nodded his agreement. 'Okay. They'd better not be left over from Nam. I'd rather eat bat than thirty-year-old beef stew.' The two men laughed, walking back. The four men sitting round the fire looked up, relieved that the earlier tension seemed to have disappeared. After that, the group settled to a quiet meal and then slept. Walter had organised the watch, so he could take the first shift. When he was relieved, he almost crawled into his sleeping bag, exhausted, mentally and physically. ************ The morning came far too quickly for Walter's liking. He woke as the LC stood over him, shouting for the men to get up. Walter rolled onto his elbow, facing the stream he had seen the previous evening. 'Hey, Carter! Stop!' Walter yelled, seeing the man leaning over the water. He scrambled to his feet, running across the damp grass to the edge of the water. 'What?' Carter snapped irritably, turning from where he was splashing water from the stream onto his face. Patiently, wishing Fox and Alex were with him to witness his calmness, Walter said evenly: 'Never, ever, go near water you can't see the source of. Don't drink it, don't swim in it, don't even wash in it.' 'It's a stream, for God's sakes!' 'Where does it feed from?' Walter asked. 'The sea.' Walter shook his head. 'No. It feeds from whatever rivers are nearby. And you have no idea what kind of crap is washed into those rivers from the land around them. You wanna drink, your bottle's in your pack.' Ponytail, as Walter had started to think of him, snapped: 'Christ, are we on a f___g nature ramble? We're not kids.' 'Problem sir?' Saunders appeared at his shoulder. 'No.' Walter said shortly. 'No problem here.' After a moments pause in which Walter thought he was about to be criticised, Carter got up and walked away, muttering under his breath. 'Serve him right if he came down with something.' Saunders said unkindly. Forcing his mind back to the task at hand, Walter said firmly: 'Be ready to move out in ten minutes Captain Saunders.' 'Yes sir. Um...sir. About what happened...back there...' 'A misunderstanding Captain.' Walter said, his tone indicating that it was not something he wished to discuss further. 'Yes sir.' Saunders said, understanding. ************* Between them, and with no help from the other four, Walter and Saunders used long-abandoned map-reading skills to find their way from where they had been dumped by helicopter the previous day to the cluster of buildings which served as the headquarters for 'Military Adventures Inc'. 'What kept you Major?' One of the staff, dressed in well-worn clothing matching his own, met Skinner as he walked into the perimeter of the camp, Saunders beside him, the other four trailing exhaustedly behind. 'Right, you men, get into the mess tent and get some food inside you. Then hit the showers. Major, report to the LC immediately.' Walter walked into the building and almost collapsed straight into one of the chairs ranged around the room. 'Major Skinner, report.' Skinner forced his feet to carry him the few feet to where the LC sat behind a trestle table. 'Delta company reporting sir. Major Walter S Skinner in command. 6759601.' The LC got to his feet. 'Well done Skinner. First back and everyone in one piece.' 'Yes sir.' Walter said tiredly. 'Do you remember how to address a superior officer Marine?' The voice snapped at Walter. 'Sir yes sir.' He shouted. 'At ease Marine.' Immediately relaxing his posture, Walter turned at the sound of the familiar voice. 'Need a ride home?' Walter looked at Harris. Almost whispering, he managed: 'Sir yes sir.' ************* 'Happy Birthday Marine.' Walter looked up, focussing with difficulty on Fox and Alex, who were holding him up. 'That's what this was?' Fox and Alex both took a deep breath, waiting for the torrent of anger they could feel building. 'Yeah.' Fox said tentatively. Walter allowed himself to be half-carried to the couch, and he gathered his thoughts while Fox leaned down and pulled off his boots. 'A birthday present?' 'Uh-huh.' Alex nodded. 'You did this for my birthday?' Fox took a step back, suddenly aware that, even in his evidently exhausted state, Walter could still be dangerous. Walter closed his eyes, took a deep breath and opened them as he let it out. 'You did all this...' He gestured at the obviously made-to-measure clothes he wore. '...for my birthday.' Fox nodded, noticing that Alex had moved to stand behind him. 'C'mere.' Walter said softly. Fox and Alex looked at each other then moved slowly towards Walter. As they reached him, Walter's face broke into a smile. 'D'you want me to make it to the next one?' Two heads nodded as Fox and Alex relaxed slightly. 'Thank you.' Walter put his arms out and Alex and Fox slipped into their familiar places, leaning against Walter's chest. Fox was the first to notice. 'Walter, you smell horrible.' Walter chuckled as Alex noticed the same thing and sat up, his nose wrinkling in disgust. 'Sweat Fox. Good honest sweat. That's what I smell of.' Fox pulled a face. 'Could you smell of 'good honest' shower gel instead?' Walter laughed, stretching slowly. 'Only if the shower somehow moves onto the couch.' 'We'll help.' Alex offered. 'Yeah.' Fox nodded. 'We'll carry you upstairs.' Walter shook his head. 'No way. You'd drop me.' Fox looked hurt. 'We would not!' Walter pulled himself up from the couch. 'I'd rather not end my birthday with a concussion thanks Fox.' Alex sniggered. 'Not when there are soooo many better ways to end it.' Walter smiled. 'Just remember I'm a fifty-two year old guy who right now couldn't run to water if his ass were on fire.' 'A good soak, some nice food, and tired muscles'll be a distant memory.' Fox asserted. 'Yeah but not the idiots I was teamed up with. If it wasn't for Saunders...' Walter's voice tailed off as he recalled the face of the younger man. Fox leaned down and put a gentle finger on Walter's lips. He had seen the fleeting look on Walter's face as he recalled his weekend and guessed there was something Walter would tell them when he was ready. 'Later. We want to hear all about it. But for now, we need to make you smell...um, feel...good.' ************* They followed Walter upstairs and Fox ran his bath while Alex undressed him. Walter lay back on the bed, Alex's fingers moving deliberately slowly as he unhooked the buttons on Walter's jacket, his gentle fingers tugging at the dogtags still hanging from Walter's neck. Walter could hear the sounds of Fox fussing over the bath and the smell of food drifting up from the kitchen coming through the open door was making his mouth water. Almost whispering, Walter said: 'Happy Birthday Wisk.' 'You read them then?' Alex asked, fingers ghosting across the thin metal. 'Read what Alex?' Walter frowned. Alex pulled the dogtags off Walter and handed them to him. Walter separated them and read the engraved words on each. Happy Birthday Wisk and on the second from Fox, Alex and Frank. Closing his eyes, Walter lay back and breathed deeply. 'Fox.' Fox appeared in the doorway moments later. 'Yeah Walter?' 'C'mere. After a bath I don't think I'm gonna be in a fit state for anything other than sleep.' Grinning, Alex and Fox leaned down, their bodies, hands and mouths covering Walter's bared skin. 'Sure you don't mind the smell?' Walter asked. Lifting his head, Fox said softly: 'Nah. This just means we get to share your bath.' End **Look out for the Alex-centric other sequel to this fic - Remote Viewing. Coming soon.** Home Send me feedback on this fic Return to the X-Files Fic Index Return to the West Wing Fic Index