Tough Justice
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: Little Green Men, The Host
Setting: Second Season. Immediately follows Little Green Men and The Host.
Rating: PG. Discipline, no slash.
Summary: Mulder's actions on a case get him hauled into court, along with his supervisor, Assistant Director Walter Skinner.
Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner sat in the back seat of the black town car the Bureau put at the disposal of their director level personnel. He rarely used it, preferring to drive himself usually. But today he was pressed for time and just too damn angry to trust himself behind the wheel of a car.
The open file on his lap attested to the fact the AD was preparing for yet another Congressional hearing about the FBI's actions in the Waco fiasco in the early 90's. And while he, Skinner, was not in his current position at the time it happened, he was now chief of investigative operations and moreover, responsible for the team that unearthed new evidence in that case. Audiotapes found in Quantico of all places. His days and nights had been taken up with this problem recently, to the exclusion of all else in his life.
Well, almost all else. In the middle of it all, the X-Files division had again managed to wrest its way out of general obscurity in the basement of the Hoover building and plant itself in the Director's morning briefing book. And at the top of the Office for Professional Review's agenda.
Skinner closed the file and slammed it down on the seat beside him. Given the vast scope of his responsibilities, it was mind-boggling how much of his time was taken up by the two agents in this fringe investigative unit. And mostly, it was because of Special Agent Fox Mulder. An agent whose brilliance was only outshone by his complete indifference to the rules, the politics and the internal workings of the FBI. And his perfunctory recognition of the law of the land when it came to such mundane things as search warrants. Not to mention his more than passing acquaintance with the best ways to break and enter almost anywhere without authorization.
The sedan pulled up in front of the federal courthouse and Skinner could see Mulder and his former partner, Special Agent Dana Scully standing at the base of the stairs that led to the halls of justice. Where in a few minutes Agent Mulder would face the music one more time in the courtroom of the Honorable Thomas J. McNally. Also known in the law enforcement community as "Tough Justice." In some ways, Skinner couldn't wait to see it. If only he'd been a willing spectator instead of a summoned participant to whatever was about to happen.
He instructed the driver to park and wait, then he exited the car. Mulder and Scully looked at him expectantly but he didn't say a word, just nodded shortly and started up the stairs. Under the circumstances, the AD thought the two of them being here together was not one of their better moves but he saw no reason to point that out in public. The two agents fell into place beside him and they entered the lobby and went to the elevators, still without exchanging a word.
Finally, the silence got to Mulder and he spoke, just to fill the air. "I think Judge McNally's courtroom is on the third floor."
Skinner didn't even glance at him. "That's right."
Mulder waited for more but nothing was forthcoming. Not a good sign. He concluded Skinner was still pissed about the little tantrum he'd thrown in the other man's office the week before, demanding a hearing in front of, it turned out, half the SAC's assigned to headquarters. Mulder and Scully exchanged worried glances as they followed Skinner into the elevator. The AD's lack of response worried the younger agent and he felt compelled to try to fill the silence.
"I don't know why you were called, sir," he blustered. "I can certainly answer any questions this judge has about--"
Skinner turned and glared at him. "I'm sure you can't," he said. "If Judge McNally asked for me, it's because he thinks there's information I can provide. He doesn't waste time. Not his own, or anybody else's."
That brought Mulder up short. He had no experience with this judge but Skinner obviously did. He and Scully knew of "Tough Justice" McNally by reputation only. And that reputation didn't bode well for Special Agent Mulder. McNally was tough on criminals. But he was even tougher on members of the law enforcement community who didn't toe the line. Mulder decided silence was probably his best recourse at this point so he shut his mouth summarily. He didn't want to do or say anything that would cause Skinner to throw him to the wolves so he followed in silence and shoved his hands in his pants pockets to keep them from betraying his nervousness.
The three of them entered the courtroom about a minute before they were due to appear. There was no prosecutor, just the court clerk, a bailiff and the three of them. This was merely a hearing, for the judge to decide whether he wanted to initiate a full-scale judicial review. It was a highly unusual action but not unheard of. And the outcome of this hearing could mean the end of Mulder's career.
At precisely 11 o'clock, the clerk called the court to order and announced that the Honorable Justice Thomas McNally was presiding. A tall forbidding looking man with gray hair, piercing gray eyes and black judicial robes entered and took a seat. Former military, Mulder concluded immediately. And probably a tour as a cop as well. His demeanor alone caused Mulder's knees to turn to water and he had to struggle to remain standing.
Skinner and Scully were standing on either side of him and the Judge took in the three of them with one sweeping glance. Then he turned his attention to Scully.
"May I ask who you are?" he said.
"I-I'm Special Agent Dana Scully," she replied, her voice wavering at first. "I'm Agent Mulder's partner--"
"I believe you were his partner," the Judge responded cryptically. "And I don't believe you were asked to appear today."
Scully glanced at Mulder quickly, then at Skinner. Neither of them seemed inclined to speak so she cleared her throat and continued. "Well, I was Agent Mulder's partner. And I was with him in Puerto Rico--"
"So I understand," the Judge cut her off again. "However, I have your statements and your official report here. Do you have anything to add to them? Or do you plan to change your testimony today?"
"Well, no," she answered. "But I--"
"Then your presence is unnecessary. And I know the Bureau has better things for its agents to do with their time than be spectators at judicial proceedings at which they are not required. Thank you, Agent Scully." He picked up a file in front of him and began to read silently.
Scully's face had flushed a bright red throughout his speech and now she was torn between giving this judge a piece of her mind. Or doing the right thing for her, and for Mulder, and leaving immediately. She fought a short internal battle that ended when Skinner leaned past Mulder.
"Go, Scully. Right now. You're not helping," he said succinctly.
She glared at him for a second, then lowered her eyes. The most important thing was Mulder now. And she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize this hearing. She picked up her briefcase from the floor beside her chair and passed silently behind the two men and down the aisle to the double doors. Without looking back, she exited, letting the door slam behind her.
"Now, I believe we can get this over with quickly. Agent Mulder, will you step to the witness stand please?"
Mulder wasn't sure he was still breathing but somehow he managed to step out from behind the table and move himself to the stand. He answered in the affirmative when the clerk swore him in and sat down. His hand went up to adjust his tie two or three times in the minute it took the judge to finish reviewing whatever he was reading and turn his attention to Mulder.
"I see from your personnel file you've had a rather checkered career with the Bureau, Agent Mulder," the Judge said evenly.
"You have access to my file?" Mulder asked belligerently. "Is that allowed?"
Judge McNally's eyebrows rose precipitously at the response. "I'd watch that tone. And I decide what is and isn't--"
"I don't see how my file is of any relevance--" Mulder cut him off, trying to take the offensive. He suspected it might be his only chance. His voice grew louder with each syllable, the tension knotted in his gut sending an oversupply of adrenaline to fuel his speech. He was stopped mid-sentence by the judge leaning into his face and pointing a finger at him.
"Enough! I am well within my judicial rights to ask for information about the record of a federal officer who appears not to understand or have any respect for the bill of rights or the laws of this land, Agent! And I will not warn you again about outbursts in my courtroom! The next one will find you in handcuffs, spending the night in a cell on contempt charges!"
Mulder clamped his mouth shut and flushed furiously. That strategy had certainly backfired. He glanced at Skinner, looking for some help but the AD was sitting there with his eyes closed, as though he were wishing this was all a bad dream. When the other man opened his eyes a second later, he glared at Mulder in what appeared to be a completely unsupportive manner. No help there, the young agent thought morosely.
The Judge sat back in his chair but he continued staring at the rebellious FBI agent in the witness chair. "Here's some free advice, young man. You'd do well to develop some impulse control."
Mulder lowered his eyes and studiously stared at his clenched fists. This was not going well. Not well at all. He took a deep breath and nodded his head, deciding his best chance lay in appearing cooperative and remorseful. "Yes, sir."
The Judge glanced at Skinner for a split second, then he lowered his voice and continued. "You have had a few reprimands over your short career, Agent. For unauthorized entry to government property. Breaking and entering. Ignoring orders from superiors. It's a wonder to me you are still employed by the Bureau. From the look of this file, I assure you that wouldn't have been my call."
Mulder nodded without raising his eyes. He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly where this was going. And he wasn't going to do anything to push his career the rest of the way over that cliff.
"This incident was a real CLM, though," McNally continued. This time Mulder's eyes snapped up and he registered confusion.
"CLM, your honor?"
"Yes, Agent. That's lawyer speak for 'Career Limiting Move.' Or in your case, it might have been a 'Career Ending Move.' I see you're a psychologist, not an attorney. I don't suppose that's your excuse for not understanding the legal implications of your actions?"
"I understand the law!" Mulder exclaimed fiercely.
"You do? Well, then let's talk about the law. What does it mean when you reach an electrified, chain-link fence covered with signs saying "Property of the US Government. No Entry Beyond This Point?"
Mulder grimaced and lowered his eyes again. "It means 'Property of the US Government. No Entry Beyond This Point.'"
"Thank you for that interpretation, Agent Mulder. And what did you do when you saw such a sign?"
Mulder swallowed hard. "I . . . looked for a section where the electricity was out and climbed it," he said quietly.
"Does that sound like a lawful act, Agent?"
Mulder big down on his lower lip, considering how to answer that one. "I'm a federal agent--"
"Who was assigned to be somewhere else by his superior. And who had no authorization to even be in Puerto Rico," the Judge retorted. "And no probable cause to trespass on government property, according to your own report. Have I missed anything?"
This time Mulder was silent for about thirty seconds. "No . . your honor," he finally answered. He glanced up and saw Skinner staring at him but he could read nothing in the man's face. It was clear he was on his own now.
"I believe you traveled under an alias. 'George E. Hale.' You would have had to show a photo ID at the airport in order to board the plane. Is it possible a federal agent used a false ID for such a purpose?" The Judge's voice was ominously calm but Mulder could hear the next nail being hammered into his coffin.
"Yes," he replied quietly.
"And when you arrived at the observatory in Arrecibo, I understand the door was locked. Is that correct, Agent Mulder?"
Mulder nodded.
"Please answer for the record, Agent!" the judge barked at him.
"Yes, sir! It was locked. I managed to open it--"
"And how did you do that?"
Mulder paused, knowing the judge had led him down the path to his own destruction. "I used a lock pick--"
"You were carrying a lock pick?" He paused for effect. "Do you always carry a lock pick, Agent?"
"I-- I-- s-sometimes," he stammered.
"Uh-huh. Your file indicates you've put that lock pick to use at least once or twice before," the Judge answered. He was staring at Skinner as he spoke.
The Judge studied the AD for a moment, then he sighed and returned his attention to Mulder, sweating in the witness box. "And you led the military police who responded to the break-in alarm on a merry chase, I believe. Until you lost them. Whereupon you returned to Washington along with Agent Scully. What did your supervisor have to say about all of this?"
Mulder's eyes flicked up in surprise. What did that have to do with anything?
"He wasn't happy. . . ."
"Not happy? Well, that must be an effective deterrent to further such behavior," the Judge said dryly. He flipped the file closed pointedly. "One more thing, Agent Mulder. You had no authorization from your supervisor to be in Puerto Rico or even to be investigating this 'case.' And I use the term loosely. Is there any possibility that you had applied for and been issued a search warrant for the premises to which you gained access? Had any judge anywhere been consulted about this case?"
"No," Mulder said, feeling all the air leave his lungs. It was over. No doubt about it.
"I thought not. You're excused, Agent Mulder."
The FBI agent rose automatically. In his head there was a shrill, screaming sound that told him he was about to go under. He'd lost the X-Files. Now he had lost everything else. He moved but he had no conscious experience of it.
"Assistant Director Skinner. Would you take the stand, please?"
Mulder stopped in mid-stride and his mouth popped open. What was this about?
Skinner sighed loudly, then stood and took the witness stand. He held his head high and his back and shoulders indicated the ex-Marine was at full attention. Mulder was surprised and confused by the fact the judge had even called him. What could the AD offer other than further damning of his agent. And what more was needed?
The Assistant Director was sworn in, then he took his seat. "You are Agent Mulder's immediate supervisor, are you not?" the Judge asked him.
"Yes, your honor, I am." Skinner answered in his usual clipped, no-nonsense manner.
"And I believe you have issued a number of the reprimands in his file?"
"Yes, sir, I have."
"But you didn't issue one in this instance, did you, AD Skinner?"
Skinner blinked. "No, your honor," he answered. "I . . . didn't think that was an appropriate response."
"I see. What did you think was an appropriate response?"
"I . . . sent him back to electronic surveillance."
"Which was an effective form of discipline with Agent Mulder in the past? Evidenced by the fact he felt free to walk off his assignment, travel under false papers, and break and enter highly secured government property?" The Judge was staring at Skinner, baiting him.
At the table in front, Mulder watched the action between the two men keenly. He didn't know what the hell this was about but there was something more than meets the eye, of that he was sure.
"I . . . agree it might not have been the best response. But in my judgment at the time, it seemed . . . appropriate."
"I see. You're an attorney, are you not, Assistant Director?"
"Yes, your honor."
"So I suppose you understand the importance of pesky little things like search warrants? And judicial oversight?"
Now Skinner flushed and his jaw tightened visibly. "Yes, your honor. I understand the importance of them."
"But you seem to have failed to impress that knowledge on your Agent Mulder," Judge McNally pushed him. "Why is that?"
"I believe Agent Mulder knows very well how much weight I place on following all legal and Bureau procedures. And protecting the rights of the accused, be they individuals or . . . or governments."
"And how do you normally . . . impress these important requirements on Agent Mulder?"
"I have used all the . . . Bureau sanctioned forms of discipline available to me," Skinner answered slowly.
"I see," the Judge said abruptly. "And they've obviously been completely ineffective. You may step down, Mr. Skinner."
Skinner began to rise, then he sat back down and began to speak again. "I'd like to say for the record that Agent Mulder, while he has stepped out of line a few times in the pursuit of the truth, is one of the most competent and effective agents I've ever had the opportunity to work with--"
"That's enough, Assistant Director--"
"And losing him from the Bureau would be a personal loss to me and a significant professional loss for the FBI."
"I said that's enough! Please step down or I'll hold you in contempt!" the judge shouted. He glared at Skinner but the AD glared back at him.
Mulder had watched it all in mute shock but now a small corner of his heart warmed just the tiniest bit. He knew his career was over. But for the first time he truly knew Skinner was on his side and understood what drove him. It was too late to matter for his career but it mattered to him on a personal level and if that was all he walked away with, well, it was better than nothing.
Skinner stepped down and strode over to the table behind which Mulder sat. He took a seat in the chair next to the agent but didn't have the heart to look at him. There was no doubt in his mind where this would end up. He still didn't understand why he'd been called to appear, other than to give McNally a chance to rub his nose in the fact that he'd failed to rein in and control this agent. And now, thanks to Skinner's failure, Mulder would be brought up on charges and drummed out of the Bureau.
The Judge sat on his bench, staring out into the courtroom. The room was completely silent and Mulder thought everyone there could probably hear his heart beating wildly. Finally the judge spoke.
"Agent Mulder, do you see that painting at the back of the room?" he asked suddenly.
Mulder's face betrayed his surprise and confusion at the question. He looked at Skinner who looked just as confused. Both men turned to the back of the room and looked to where the judge was pointing. There was a mural, an artist's rendition of Justice, holding her scales, blindfold in place over her eyes.
"Yes, your honor," Mulder answered when he turned back to the judge.
"Well Justice may be blind, Agent Mulder. But she's not stupid. I don't believe any of your actions in this case were justified, nor do I believe most of them were lawful. And your report, while nicely put together and full of references to 'known informants' and 'trustworthy sources,' doesn't provide anything that rises to the level of probable cause. Nor is there even the slightest hint that you thought to ask for any authorization, from the Bureau or the courts, for your actions. Have I misstated any of the facts?"
Mulder could hear the lock being thrown and the key being tossed away. He didn't answer and Skinner first looked at him, trying to get his attention. Then he leaned a little closer to his subordinate.
"Answer him, Agent Mulder," he whispered fiercely.
Mulder felt hot tears burning the backs of his eyes. He shook his head, then he managed to choke out the words. "No, your honor," he said finally.
The Judge stared at him, waiting for him to look up. When the agent got his wits about him enough to realize they were waiting for him, he looked up expectantly. There was a verdict coming and his attention was required to deliver it.
"I am a firm believer in the law, Agent Mulder," he said. "I believe in tough sentences. And in making sure the punishment fits the crime. I believe you have played fast and loose with the rules and the law but I also believe your heart is always in the right place. And there is no evidence your . . . actions have ever been about your personal benefit. To the contrary, your actions have usually brought you nothing but trouble. But they also are aimed at discovering the truth about . . . things to which some people within our government might want to block access."
Mulder frowned in confusion. He heard the words but they didn't seem to be leading anywhere he had expected to go.
"You seem particularly well qualified to pursue those truths. But your recklessness and your lack of discipline will probably get you killed before that happens," the Judge continued. Now he fixed his attention on the Assistant Director. "Which is why I've asked AD Skinner to appear here today. It is clear to me he is complicit in this situation."
"Wh-what?" Mulder blurted out. His head swerved toward Skinner, then back to the judge.
"Quiet, Mulder," Skinner whispered to him again. His words were invested with all his authority and they brought the younger agent to heel.
"Better, Assistant Director," Judge McNally said. "But not enough. I am giving you a choice, Agent Mulder. I can remand this case to the US Attorney's office for prosecution. Whether it ever comes to court or not, your career with the FBI will be over. Or . . . we can resort to 'alternative sentencing.' If you agree, and you have no cause to appear in my courtroom again for the next five years, I will expunge this entire incident from your record."
"Alternative sentencing?" Mulder asked immediately. "What is that?"
"That's 'Alternative . . . Sentencing,' Agent Mulder," the Judge said, smiling at him. "A man with your education ought to be able to understand something like that."
Mulder glanced at Skinner, seeking help. The AD's face was flushed now and he appeared to be worried and anxious about something. But Mulder couldn't understand what. After all, he was the one whose butt was in a sling.
"Is that where they make you wear that orange jumpsuit and pick up trash on the highway?" Mulder whispered to him. He could swear Skinner groaned but all the man did was shake his head.
That's a lot of help, Mulder thought to himself. So glad you decided to come! "Well, given the alternative, I vote for 'alternative sentencing," Mulder said quickly. Better to just get this over with and get back to work.
"Good choice, Agent Mulder," the Judge said. He looked over to the bailiff and gestured toward the rear doors with his head. "Please make sure the doors are locked, Mr. Kennedy."
The bailiff was a large black man who got up immediately and went to secure the doors. Mulder followed him with his eyes. What the hell is that about? Lock the doors?
The court clerk appeared out of the judge's chambers now. Mulder hadn't seen him go but he walked behind the bench and gave something to the judge. Mulder found his gut was roiling with the anxiety of not knowing exactly what he'd agreed to. He looked at Skinner again and the AD looked a little green around the gills.
"Agent Mulder, your recklessness and lack of self-discipline are not much different than that displayed by teenage boys who appeared before me when I was a judge on the Second Circuit. And I don't know if my reputation there preceded me or not but I was never in favor of sending basically good boys to jail. I always thought a good old-fashioned paddling would set most of them back on the path of righteousness."
He held up a wood paddle. "This has been with me for more than twenty-five years. And in that time, not one young man on whose backside it's been used has ever seen the inside of a jail. So you're in good company--"
"What?" Mulder exclaimed, rising to his feet. "You can't-- you can't--- I mean, for God's sake! You can't use that thing on me!"
The judge smiled at him indulgently and waited for him to finish. "You are absolutely right. I have no intention of using this on you."
Mulder sighed with unconcealed relief. Now he felt foolish, for even thinking . . . "I- I guess I misunderstood," he breathed, sitting back down and letting the tension of the moment go.
"Yes, of course you did," the judge continued. "I don't plan to use this paddle on you, Agent Mulder. That's what Assistant Director Skinner is here for."
Mulder's mouth dropped open and his head snapped to the man beside him. Skinner was sitting there, staring at his hands. The AD's lips were pursed together in resignation and Mulder knew immediately that Skinner had figured out where this was going long before he had.
"Stand up, Agent Mulder," the Judge was saying. Mulder didn't move and the bailiff came over and took him by the arm, pulling him to his feet.
He continued to stare at the Assistant Director, expecting the person he relied on to keep things in order, above-board and on track, to do so now. But he got no response from the other man as he was dragged bodily from behind the table and brought to stand in front of it.
"Mr. Skinner, your participation is required," the Judge was saying now. Skinner shook his head almost imperceptibly and stood up.
"Your honor, I think Agent Mulder gets the point. I-- I don't believe it will be necessary--"
"And is that how you feel about the criminals you help prosecute? Once they've been through trial and gotten a 'wake-up call,' they should be excused and sent on their way?" Judge McNally's words were said carefully but it was hard to miss the bite.
"No, but in this case--"
"In this case, a paddling is probably long overdue, Assistant Director," the judge cut him off. "If you'd been paying attention, I'm sure you would have come to the same conclusion yourself. It's clear none of the other disciplinary actions you've taken have succeeded in getting through to Agent Mulder. Now we try my way."
"I-- I-- I refuse!" Mulder broke in, his words tripping over each other. "W-with all due respect. . . I refuse! I'm not gonna let you, I mean him-- I mean I just am not!" The agent was stammering almost incoherently but his body language was clear and communicative. He was absolutely not agreeing to this sentence. No way. No how.
"Well, then. I guess you can kiss your career goodbye now, Agent Mulder. I think the Bureau can have your things packed and shipped. No need to return to the Hoover building--"
"You can't do that! You can't just . . . " he sputtered, then he turned to Skinner. "Can he do that?"
"I think he can, Agent Mulder," the AD said. "But if you'd prefer to resign . . . . I think that can be arranged."
McNally shot him daggers from the bench but he decided to let Skinner's attempted end-run run its course. His instincts told him which way Mulder would go. And "Tough Justice" McNally's instincts were rarely wrong.
Mulder nodded his head fervently.
"You'll resign?" Skinner asked him, wanting to be certain.
Mulder stopped nodding and looked at him appealingly. "I-- I don't want to resign," he said pleadingly. "Isn't there some other way? Something else. . . ? Please, sir."
"Mulder," Skinner replied, shaking his head. "No. You have two choices. Leave the Bureau. Or . . . . There's nothing more I can do."
Mulder was breathing heavily and his hands went to his hips in consternation. He bit down on his lower lip while shaking his head violently and Skinner thought he might actually stamp his foot at any moment. He watched Mulder look around the room. The Judge and Skinner, the bailiff and the court clerk. He glanced behind him at the locked doors. The wheels in his brain were turning, Skinner knew, weighing the options.
"Okay," Mulder said angrily, still shaking his head 'no.' He exhaled forcefully. "Let's get this over with."
"I think that's a wise choice," McNally said soothingly. "Bailiff, help Agent Mulder off with his jacket. Mr. Skinner, please approach the bench."
Mulder watched as the AD walked up to the high wooden desk and took the paddle he was handed. The judge and he exchanged a few words, then Skinner was back at the table, waiting while Mulder readied himself. The agent got a good look at the paddle then. It was made of heavy wood and was worn smooth with age. There were small holes drilled in the paddle part, probably to cut wind resistance the agent immediately concluded. It had the look of something that had been used often and well. And in Skinner's hands, it scared the hell out of him.
"Remove your trousers, Agent Mulder," the judge continued his instructions.
Mulder rounded on him. "What? You never said--"
"I don't believe I said anything about the details, Agent Mulder. But I've had a lot of experience with this and believe me, paddlings always have more of an impact on a bare backside."
Mulder's mouth popped open yet again and he turned to Skinner, the obvious question all over his shocked face.
"Agent Mulder, let's just get this over with," the AD said stonily. He wanted it over more than his agent. But for very different reasons.
Mulder's eyes filled with tears of self-recrimination. How is it you didn't think to ask for any details, jerk! This judge is a maniac, why didn't a great profiler like you anticipate this! But he reached for his belt buckle and undid it. Then he unzipped his trousers and stepped out of them. The bailiff took them immediately and folded them neatly, placing them next to Mulder's suit jacket.
"Bend over the table, Agent Mulder," the judge was saying. His words hit Mulder as though he were listening to them through water. The blood that had rushed to his head was pounding in his ears. He leaned forward and felt Skinner move into position behind him and to the left. The AD looked to the judge for the go-ahead but McNally wasn't satisfied yet.
"Agent Mulder, please pull your shorts down. To the knees will suffice."
Mulder hung his head, touching his forehead to the wood surface over which he was leaning. "To the knees will suffice!' Jesus Christ, this can't be happening to me! He stood up straight and pulled the gray boxers he was wearing down as instructed. Then he sighed heavily and leaned forward over the table again.
"Mr. Skinner, I suggest you raise the young man's shirt," McNally intoned from the bench. "Then you can begin. I think twenty whacks will do it but I'll reserve final judgment until we get there. Please proceed."
Skinner bit down on his own lip and raised the paddle. He brought it down on the younger agent's perfectly presented bottom. Mulder yelped and Skinner steeled himself. But McNally was less than impressed.
"I'm certain you can do better than that, Assistant Director," he said icily. "Or we may be here all day."
Skinner raised the paddle again and brought it down harder. Mulder literally squealed in discomfort this time and McNally nodded his approval. "That's one," the judge said. Mulder groaned loudly.
Skinner maintained the strength of the next ten whacks and Mulder struggled visibly to keep from crying. But number eleven broke the dam and the young man howled and nearly rose off the table. Skinner put his arm down on Mulder's back to keep him in place and spoke to him for the first time. "Stay there, Agent Mulder," he whispered in his most no-nonsense tone of voice.
"I-- I can't--" the young agent implored him.
"Yes, you can, Agent," Skinner told him with conviction. He brought the paddle down again.
"Twelve," the Judge said. "Only eight more to go. Unless Agent Mulder doesn't appear to be cooperating."
"He's cooperating," Skinner answered, pushing down on Mulder's back with all his strength. He raised the paddle and whacked the now red and burning backside again. And again. Until he was at twenty. He invested the last whack with all of his strength, hoping the young man before him was getting this message, once and for all. The AD hoped never to have to do anything like this again.
"Twenty. I think that's enough," the judge said breezily. "What do you think, Assistant Director Skinner?"
"I think that's quite enough," he replied concisely.
"And what about you, Agent Mulder? Do you think that was enough to set you back on the straight and narrow?"
Mulder was still leaning forward over the table, his cheek turned to the cool wood, trying to get a grip on his emotions. "I think. . . that's more than enough," he choked out. "Your honor."
"Good. Now Bailiff, if you wouldn't mind, please escort Agent Mulder into my chambers and let him use my washroom to clean up. And get dressed. We'll be waiting here when he's ready to leave."
The bailiff helped the young agent to his feet, watched him pull his boxers up painfully and escorted him, still dazed and sniffling, out of the courtroom. The judge rose and walked out from behind the bench as Mulder exited with the bailiff, the court clerk right on their heels.
Skinner spoke first. "TJ, I had no idea when you summoned me to appear--"
"I'm not surprised," the judge said with a satisfied smile. "You seem to have forgotten the good effect of properly administered corporal punishment. Else you surely would have used it on young Agent Mulder before now. His record is atrocious--"
"He's a brilliant agent, TJ! The best I've ever worked with," Skinner replied vehemently.
"And he's been on a collision course with disaster! And you've done nothing to rein him in! Electronic surveillance, my ass! Might as well have given him milk and cookies and sent him to bed!"
Skinner shook his head impatiently. "You don't understand. Mulder's been targeted by people who . . . people who have government access I can't completely explain. He's at the center of things I can't begin to figure out. He gets information and leads from sources who know far more than I do about the things he investigates, far more than I can even begin to understand. I know you have had a lot of success with . . . with this method of discipline over the years but Mulder is different--"
"Mulder is a smart, albeit hard-headed kid with a whole lot of misguided notions! And lousy judgment when it comes to his friends! I know Senator Matheson sent him on this wild-goose chase. And you know what I think of Matheson. And I'm familiar with some of his other 'informants' and I'm even less impressed with them! But you are his life-line. You're the only thing standing between him and certain disaster. I agree he's brilliant! I read his file. And I've followed his career. I think he's going to find the answers eventually, to things you and I have only wondered about over the years. But he can't do it if he's dead. And you are the only thing standing between him and that eventuality. If you fail him, it's all on your hands."
Skinner exhaled and shook his head forcefully. "I don't think I can--"
"You have no choice, Walter," McNally said. "When you were a student in my law class, you were smart and talented and driven. I remember when you first met Sharon and you were working that bank fraud case at the same time. You were working 18 hour days and trying to keep up with the schoolwork. And you were gonna quit law school. It was your choice, you were an adult. But I knew it would be the biggest mistake of your life if you quit."
Skinner knew where this recollection was going and tried to cut it off at the pass. "That was completely different--"
"Listen to me, Walter. It's not different at all. I called you into my office at Georgetown and I asked you why you were quitting. And you gave me that cock and bull story about wanting 'a life.' And about how you knew you were going to have a career with the Bureau but not one where an advanced degree would be required. And you were fine with that. Going only so far and no further. And I knew it was fear talking. Fear of not making it to the top. So you were gonna settle for less than what you might achieve, just so no one would ever think you tried and failed. And I told you that was unacceptable. That you were capable of more than you even dreamed. And then I gave that old paddle a good work-out--"
"Yes! Yes, I remember," Skinner blurted, looking over his shoulder to make sure Mulder hadn't returned. "How could I forget? But this is different. Mulder's not afraid of failure--"
"Yes, he is, Walter. He's afraid he won't get where he needs to go following the rules. And he's trying to shortcut them any way he can. But he won't survive if he doesn't stay within the boundaries. And that's your job. To keep him in bounds, so he can make it to the goal line."
Skinner blinked and sighed loudly. TJ's version of it all made sense, dammit. But it meant Skinner had a bigger role to play in Agent Mulder's life than he'd ever anticipated. Or wanted.
"Shit," he said, kicking the leg of the table softly. "I knew coming here today was a mistake."
"Well, you didn't exactly have a choice now did you, Walter?" McNally said, clapping him on the back.
Agent Mulder appeared at the door from the judge's chambers. His face was freshly washed but his eyes were still red-rimmed and swollen. He hesitated and was waved in by the judge.
"Agent Mulder, I hope never to see you in my courtroom again," the Judge told him as he approached them.
"You can't possibly hope for that more than I do, your honor," Mulder answered with complete honesty.
"But believe me, if I get wind of any more antics like the ones that brought you here today, I'll have you and Assistant Director Skinner back here so fast, your head will spin," McNally said meaningfully. "Now go back to work. Both of you."
They left the courtroom through doors that were now unlocked and walked in silence to the elevators and through the lobby of the courthouse. Skinner thought Mulder was moving a little faster than normal and he knew exactly why. Putting distance between him and the courthouse was his only thought right now. They reached the bottom of the steps and Skinner waved for the car to come over.
"I think I'll take the Metro back, sir," Mulder said. The thought of trying to sit in the car, or anywhere at this point, made him woozy. Standing on the Metro, he wouldn't even stand out from the crowd.
Skinner nodded thoughtfully. He'd been considering TJ's words in the last few minutes and now they seemed to drop into place.
"I'm not going to tell you I'm sorry about that, Agent Mulder," he said. "If it works to keep you from doing stupid things like the Puerto Rico stunt. Or waltzing into my office demanding an audience without an appointment--"
Mulder grimaced sheepishly. "I've been . . . meaning to apologize for that, sir. I guess I was being a little hotheaded--"
"Hot head, warm butt. At least that's what somebody once told me. And it stuck with me all these years. I hope you have the same reaction. Let this be a turning point, Agent. And in the meantime, take the rest of the day off. I think . . . I can scare up something other than electronic surveillance tomorrow."
Mulder smiled fully for the first time in days. "Thank you, sir," he said as he watched the AD open the car door. "Thanks for . . . everything."
Skinner nodded at him and got into the back of the car. He nodded to the driver and they pulled back onto Connecticut Avenue and turned in the direction of the Hoover building. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a phone number. When it was answered, he spoke.
"It's me," he said quietly. "All these years, I think I forgot to tell you . . . thanks . . . for everything."
"You're welcome, Walt," TJ McNally laughed. "And I forgot to tell you, feel free to borrow that paddle. Any time. I have a feeling you're gonna be needing it."
THE END