Title: Silent Witness
Author: Drmchaser (Lia)
Possible Spoilers: "Millennium"
Rating: NC-17 (mild)
Category: Sk/Sc
Feedback: Appreciated (aerltec@aol.com)
Summary: In this alternate universe Skinner and Scully have recently begun a personal relationship that no one, including Mulder, knows anything about. Fair warning - common sense and canon were not a priority in this post-New Year's eve tale. This little bit of angst and romantic fluff was written just for fun.
**A special note of thanks to Judy for putting up with my whining and always offering to help, to Sally for her continual encouragement, and to Laurie for helping me find an ending and getting this damn thing off my hard drive where it's been sitting for the last four months.
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of FOX, 1013 Productions, and Chris Carter. No infringement intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

Silent Witness

By: Drmchaser

FBI Assistant Director Walter Skinner kept to the edges of the crowded hotel ballroom, searching for a quiet corner away from the phony smiles and endless political glad-handing associated with Washington DC charity events. Having reached his fill of both during the past four hours, he eagerly slipped into the first private alcove he could find and returned his attention to the elegantly decorated room. Uniformed waiters worked with silent efficiency, moving amidst linen draped tables while a small, tuxedo clad band did its best to keep the mood light and the multitude of couples swaying. Earlier in the evening, he had been out there himself, dancing with the director's wife and a half dozen other women whose names he had already forgotten.

The current dance number ended and the overhead lights were dimmed as a ballad began. The female singer's voice was soulful and plaintive, her words of undying love oddly unsettling to the solitary man shrouded in darkness. The song stirred up feelings he had spent the better part of a weekend attempting to disavow. Turning away from the music, he moved deeper into the shadows and stared past his own reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows. The familiarity of the skyline was a comfort.

"Looking for someone out there?"

The quiet question came as a surprise. Dinner had been over for hours. He had assumed she wasn't coming. Keeping his attention focused on the dark vista beyond the glass, he responded with a brief, "Agent Scully."

"Sorry to be so late," Dana Scully apologized breathlessly.

"Trouble in Rice County?"

"No, but Mulder felt we should witness the first of the autopsies, so we returned there on Saturday. Most of today was spent in the lab, trying to rush the preliminary findings. I've been trying to reach you since late Friday," she added. "I thought you might be worried."

Scully moved into his line of vision, standing with her back to the glass, partially blocking the view he appeared so interested in. She lowered her voice, "I called your apartment three or four times today, but your answering machine picked up."

By mutual consent, messages were never left. Messages left a trail.

Dark eyes slid over the graceful figure in black. Her floor-length dress was form fitting and elegant, with long tapered sleeves and a high neckline that hid her recent injury. The temptation to check those marks was great, but recent memories stilled his fingers.

"The last few days turned out to be much busier than I had anticipated." Calm as his voice was, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Something has happened." Scully touched his sleeve, the light physical contact a gesture of concern. "What's wrong?"

A small group of guests neared the alcove, allowing Skinner a brief reprieve from answering. Scully's hand returned to her side as she acknowledged a greeting from a well-known Washington heart surgeon. Torn between annoyance and relief, Skinner's contribution to the conversation was limited. After a few uncomfortable minutes, the doctor and his friends moved on.

Alone with Scully once more, Skinner continued to brood in silence.

"Talk to me," she prodded.

"Why did you bother to come?" he asked.

Scully struggled to maintain the smile on her face. "I know I'm late, but I was hoping we could salvage the last few hours of the evening."

Salvaging his own pride was all Skinner was concerned with at the moment. Three short days ago, he had been looking forward to this January 2nd event as the highlight of the holiday week.

Clearly confused by his mood, Scully shifted her gaze to the dance floor and tried a different approach. "What about the case? I know Mulder left you a voice mail while we were at the hospital, but after the incident in the morgue, I thought you might at least try to follow up..."

"I was there," he cut in.

"At the hospital?" Surprised, Scully stared up at him. The shadows made it difficult for her to read his expression, but she persisted, moving closer in the darkness, resting her hands on his forearms. "I didn't see you there."

It was Skinner's turn to avoid eye contact. He glanced over his
shoulder, ignoring the woman in front of him as he considered which exit to use. When she had failed to arrive in time for dinner, he had correctly assumed she was with Mulder. In many ways, it was a relief - at least that was what he had been telling himself all weekend. No matter how it had all started, he was an assistant director and Dana Scully was an agent under his direction. Their relationship was a mistake for many reasons, one of which had been painfully pointed out to him two nights prior.

"I'm surprised we didn't run into each other." Scully gave him a
quizzical look. "What time did you get there?"

"Midnight." He scowled, determined to ignore the sweet tug of desire her presence unfailingly inspired.

Much to his surprise, she smiled and took advantage of their private location, carefully smoothing down the lapels of his tuxedo jacket. Her open palms lingered a little longer than necessary.

He grabbed both of her wrists.

Standing in that hospital corridor Friday night, bearing silent witness to the intimate moment between partners, a long held fear of his had finally been realized. Mulder's mouth covering hers - her obvious acceptance of his affection - it was a scene Skinner could not get past.

Scully had been facing away from the glass-paneled door that night, but her body language had been clear. Afterwards, she had held Mulder's gaze, speaking soft words that brought a smile to her partner's face. As their boss, he had every right to intrude, but he turned away when Mulder placed an arm around her shoulders.

"I wish you had let me know you were there," Scully was saying, showing no outward concern over the firmness of his grip. "Mulder will be happy to discuss all the gory details with you tomorrow, but I would have liked you there for my own selfish reasons."

"I don't think either one of you would have appreciated my intrusion at the time." Physical contact was a mistake. Skinner released her wrists.

"What are you talking about?" Her smile slowly disappeared. Tilting her head to one side, she regarded him with solemn blue eyes. "It was New Year's eve."

"Yes," he drawled, "I am aware of what day it was."

"I'm not sure what you think you saw," she said in a calm, measured tone, "but it was nothing more than a kiss between friends. Maybe it went on a little longer than it should have…."

He had heard enough. "Goodnight, Agent Scully." Contrary to popular belief, he was not made of stone, a fact recently brought home with startling clarity. He had thought himself immune to such disappointment, impervious to such pain.

"You haven't even bothered to ask for an explanation." Her words were heavy with disappointment.

"I am neither blind, nor a fool." Skinner started to turn away.

"I made this too easy for you, didn't I?"

A questioning glance in her direction was met with fiery disdain. God help him, she was even more beautiful when angry.

"You don't want to hear what really happened, because it's simpler to just walk away."

"Lower your voice, Agent Scully," he growled, checking over his shoulder to make sure they were not drawing attention to themselves. "Nothing about this is simple or easy, but I think it's time we both admit that our relationship was a mistake from the beginning." He was doing what was necessary, he reminded himself, returning their relationship to a strictly professional level, saving both of their jobs, and facing the inevitability of her feelings for Mulder.

Scully stared at the man in front of her, too shocked to respond. How could this tower of ice be the same man who had driven her to such dizzying heights of ecstasy the last time they were together? Admittedly, their relationship had begun almost by accident - a chance encounter away from work, Mulder, and anything even remotely associated with an X-File - but until this moment she had never sensed any regret in him. How could everything be falling apart over a single kiss from her impulsive partner? Skinner knew as well as she did that there were no rules forbidding a relationship between agents. The opportunities had been there for her and Mulder, but the desire and the physical attraction had not.

She took a step backwards, making it easier to look up into Skinner's dark gaze. "Hasn't our time together meant anything to you?"

Skinner ignored the question, but reached out to touch the side of her face. She turned away.

"It's cold here by the windows."

There was concern in his voice, but when she glanced back up, his eyes were cool and unreadable.

"You'd better get back to the main room," he instructed.

Scully lowered her gaze and took a deep breath, centering herself. Walter Skinner was giving her the brush off, using her close ties to her partner as an excuse to end their brief relationship. No fuss, no muss, he was cutting himself out of her private life with the same cold efficiency he wielded so deftly during business hours. She offered a faint smile. "I believe you promised me a dance."

There was a brief flash of panic in his eyes. "Scully…"

"Humor me, sir. All I meant was that I went through a lot of trouble to get here tonight. I think we should stick to our original plan."

"That promise was made weeks ago. Circumstances have changed."

Skinner continued to glower as she narrowed the distance between them.

"What are you so afraid of?" she demanded. "You've had your say - your feelings are perfectly clear. Mulder won't begrudge us one little dance."

The mention of her partner's name darkened his expression even further, but for once, it was extremely satisfying to see the storm clouds brewing. Anger was the first real emotion she had sensed in him since her arrival.

Just when it seemed he had no intention of agreeing to her request, he took hold of her left wrist and pulled her towards the music, not bothering to stop or slow down until they were in position at the center of the crowd. A short lull between songs forced them to stand there, glaring at each other until the band launched into the next number - a slow romantic ballad with lyrics that told an all too familiar tale of wise men, love, and fools rushing in.

"Don't do this to us," Scully whispered, following his lead. Skinner held her stiffly, as if she were a stranger, but the dance floor was crowded and they were eventually forced closer together. The side of her face came to rest against his jacket. The impersonal hand at her side drifted possessively to the small of her back. Closing her eyes, she slid both arms around his waist. There had to be a way around this misunderstanding.

"This is a mistake, Dana."

She felt his lips move over her hair and her control snapped. "You're right," she said, bringing them both to a sudden stop, "and you're the one who's making it." Maybe she had been misreading the situation between them from day one. Stepping out of the arms that no longer offered a safe haven, she turned her back on the one man she had foolishly hoped to trust with her heart, fleeing the dance floor and the ballroom, stopping only long enough to collect her coat before exiting the building in search of her car.

Her hasty departure had been for naught. Skinner made no attempt to follow. A quick glance at the overnight bag on the back seat brought an unexpected moisture to her eyes. Slipping the key into the ignition, she thought about her empty apartment. There was only one destination possible tonight - only one person whose shoulder had always been available for her to cry on.

~*~*~

Skinner slammed the door of his apartment behind him and tossed his keys onto the small entryway table. He was frustrated, angry, and desperately in need of a long, taxing workout; something to tire him out, something to stop his thoughts from the endless loop they had been traveling in since leaving the hotel.

For the past two days, he had cursed her betrayal, fed up with being lied to and used as a pawn in the endless game between partners. Witnessing their kiss had left him feeling foolish and exposed, magnifying hidden insecurities and self doubts to a totally unacceptable level. It was time to get his life back in the proper order. The physical side of his relationship with Dana had been phenomenal, but they had both shied away from committing themselves too deeply with words.

Skinner shrugged out of his overcoat and tossed it onto the couch. Scully certainly hadn't suffered from a shortage of words tonight. Her final comments still rang in his ears. She had accused him of making a mistake, but in the next breath admitted to spending most of the day and evening with Mulder. By taking the initiative and ending their relationship, he was doing her a favor. Why wasn't she cooperating?

He poured himself a drink then abandoned it, untouched, as he crossed the room to the balcony. Something wasn't adding up right. The fact that she had bothered to show up at the hotel was confusing. The look on her face as she fled the dance floor, even more so. Had he asked for the truth from her tonight, would she have given it to him? More importantly, could he have handled it?

Any hint of personal cowardice did not sit well with a man who had been to hell and back as often as he. Reaching into his jacket, Skinner pulled out his cell phone and dialed. Just as he feared, her mobile unit was turned off. Scowling, he punched in the numbers for her apartment.

"Damn machines," he muttered, listening to her recorded message, waiting impatiently for the promised beep. "If you're home," he bellowed when it was finally his turn to talk, "call me. It's urgent!" No need to identify himself, he figured. Other than Mulder, there probably weren't too many people who would be calling at this time of night.

Mulder.

What if their discussion tonight had sent her directly into her
partner's arms?

Outraged by this train of thought, he dialed the phone again.

"Mulder…" a sleepy voice answered.

"Where the hell are you?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you where you are right now, Agent Mulder!"

What followed was a fair amount of muffled mumbling and the sounds of someone trying to pull themselves together after being awoken from a dead sleep.

Skinner tried to sound as calm and businesslike as possible. "I've been trying unsuccessfully to contact Agent Scully."

"You tried her cell and her home phone?"

"Of course!"

After a brief silence, Mulder cleared his throat and blurted out, "May I ask what you want with Scully at this time of night…sir?"

"None of your God damned business, Mulder." Calm and businesslike quickly followed each other into oblivion.

"Am I missing something?" The sleepy agent was becoming curious - never a good sign when dealing with Mulder.

"I don't have time for the usual word games, Mulder. Is she there with you?" The phone in his hand was perilously close to snapping in two.

"It's past midnight, sir, and I haven't see Scully since she left me stranded at the lab. She was rushing home to change for some charity event she was determined to attend." Mulder yawned, not bothering to muffle the sound. "I got the impression she was meeting someone there."

"And that doesn't bother you?" Skinner demanded.

"Should it?" Mulder asked curiously. "Scully is a grown woman more than capable of choosing who to go out with."

"For Christ's sake, Mulder. You know what I'm talking about. I thought there might be something more personal going on between the two of you."

"Oh my, God…" Mulder laughed, an annoying sound that grated on his boss' nerves. "Are you trying to find out if the field is clear, sir?"

"Shut the hell up, Mulder, and go back to sleep." Disgusted with himself for the predicament he now found himself in, Skinner was about to disconnect the call when the sound of Mulder's voice had him returning the small black phone to his ear. "What do you want?" he barked.

"Try her mother's house." An amused chuckle was followed by dead air.

~*~*~

Standing on the doorstep of the Scully home, Skinner knew there were a hundred different reasons why he should turn around and head back to the car. High up on that list was the fact that his personal feelings for Dana were clearly getting in the way of his reasoning, a fact, if discovered, that could easily be used against either one of them. In addition, even if the kiss he witnessed had been innocent, breaking off his relationship with her remained the wisest and most responsible thing
to do.

Why then, was he standing on her mother's doorstep at one a.m., throwing months of secrecy and painstaking precaution to the wind?

Purposely ignoring every ounce of common sense he had ever been born with, he knocked. A light in the downstairs hallway flickered on, shining through the ornamental glass panels above the front door. The porch light followed.
 
Skinner squinted and waited impatiently for the person behind the door to check the peephole and come to a decision.
 
The door opened slowly. "Mr. Skinner?"
 
Margaret Scully's surprise was to be expected.
 
"I need to speak to your daughter, Mrs. Scully."
 
The door opened a few inches wider. Dressed warmly in a long, belted robe, hair brushed back from a face free of makeup, Scully's mother was as much a natural beauty as her daughter. She was also wide awake despite the lateness of the hour.
 
"Please, come in." The invitation was polite but suspicious.
 
Skinner followed Margaret Scully into the small entryway and removed his gloves, tucking them into an overcoat pocket. He sensed her confusion as she noted his formal attire, and knew the instant she made the connection between where her daughter had been that night and who she had possibly been with.
 
"Can I take your coat?"
 
"No. Thank you."

Side by side, they walked towards the living room, neither one quite sure what to say to the other. Skinner understood her wariness. His presence usually signified trouble.
 
"Why don't you wait in here," Margaret Scully suggested. Once she realized he intended to remain standing, she turned to leave. After no more than a step or two, she spun round to face him again. "I don't normally pry into Dana's personal affairs, Mr. Skinner, but when she arrived here a short time ago, she was very upset."
 
"Mrs. Scully…"
 
"I know my daughter," she interrupted. "I've watched her go through hell since joining the FBI, and in all that time, I rarely said a word because I respected her choices." Moving closer, she lowered her voice and stared him straight in the eye. "She refuses to talk about what upset her tonight, but whatever did happen - you and I both know she deserves better."
 
Skinner removed his glasses and ran a free hand over his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Believe me, Mrs. Scully, your daughter's best interests have always been my first priority."
 
"Have they really?"
 
"What I meant was…"
 
"Mom?"

Margaret Scully turned at the sound of her daughter's voice, her slight shift in position allowing Skinner a clear view of the stairway. Unaware of his presence, Scully was on her way down. She looked young and vulnerable in a pale pink oversized sweatshirt, and gray leggings.
 
"I thought I heard you talking to someone …" Scully's words faded as she drew closer to her mother's side. Her expression of surprise faded to uncertainty.
 
The silence lengthened until Margaret Scully, having spent the past minute and a half glancing from one tense individual to the other, turned to her daughter and brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. "After all these years, I just assumed you and Fox…" She stopped mid-sentence as if suddenly remembering their guest and offered an embarrassed smile. "Good night, Mr. Skinner."

"Mrs. Scully," he nodded politely.

Before leaving, the older woman placed an arm around her daughter's shoulders and gave her a quick hug. "I'll be upstairs if you need me, honey."
 
Frowning, Dana turned to watch her mother leave, and Skinner found himself staring at the back of her neck. He moved closer, and by the time she turned back around, he was right behind her. "She isn't the only one who assumed…"

"I expect that type of comment from my mother," Dana responded tightly, "but not from you. If you had concerns about my feelings for Mulder, all you had to do was say so."

She had a point, but so did he. Unfortunately, he was no longer clear on exactly what his point was. "I shouldn't have come," Skinner muttered. He was only making matters worse.

"You could have just as easily picked up the phone. Why did you drive out here, sir?"

She was slipping back into professional courtesy, something he had hoped to avoid.

"I thought we should talk in person," he ground out. "To be perfectly frank…"

"I'm not sure how much more of your frankness I can stand right now."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I deserve that."

"Yes, you do."

"Which is why I had to see you again."

Scully averted her glance. "I don't want to do this here," she
interrupted. "Why don't you drive me back to my apartment? We can talk on the way."

Her sudden desire to go home piqued his curiosity. "What about your car?"

"I'll arrange to pick it up tomorrow morning." As soon as he nodded his approval of the plan, she excused herself. "Give me a minute to get my coat and explain the situation to my mother."

Inside the car, Scully remained stubbornly silent, while Skinner
searched for a way to begin the conversation. It wasn't until their journey was nearly at an end that he finally spoke up.

"Friday was difficult for me," he began uncomfortably. The confession earned a curious look from the woman at his side. "Knowing how close you came to being seriously hurt…" His death grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"When I arrived at the crime scene, you had already left for the
hospital with Mulder and the place was a zoo. There was no way I could leave right away. By the time I did make it to the hospital, it was close to midnight, and that's when I ran into Frank Black. He let me know where to find you."

Stopped at a red light, he cast a quick glance in Scully's direction. She sat rigid and straight in the passenger seat, hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Watching you and Mulder together at midnight…"

"You jumped to conclusions," Scully stated firmly.

"I was jealous, Dana." The light changed to green and he turned his attention back to driving.

"Jealous?" she repeated in surprise. "Of Mulder?"

Skinner shook his head in disgust. He was loathe to admit it, but there was nothing to be gained by holding anything back. "Insanely jealous. Jealous enough to reassign him to Alaska. Jealous enough to snap his scrawny little neck in two…"

"And that's what tonight was all about?"

"What you suffered through tonight was my attempt at being selfless and noble in light of your newly discovered feelings for Mulder." He ignored the ladylike snort of disgust. "I thought I could do the right thing, but ten minutes after arriving home, I knew I had to see you again."

He felt a slender hand curve round his right arm, the fingers tightening over his coat sleeve. Seconds later, her head come to a rest against his shoulder, and he damn near sighed in relief. His voice was gruff as he tried to continue normally. "Believe me, I'm not proud of my reaction Friday night, but he was touching you and kissing you, something I had been dying to do all day, but couldn't until we were alone again."

He nearly jumped out of his skin when her free hand settled on his thigh. Her open palm slid over the tensed muscle, dipping downward between his legs, brushing lightly against the growing bulge in his slacks. He stifled a groan.

"And I was all over Mulder, right? Running my hands through his hair, touching him the way I touch you every time we kiss."

Her sarcasm hit home. Skinner scowled. If he had gotten to that damn hospital fifteen minutes earlier, she would have been in his arms at midnight instead of Mulder's.

"In other words," he muttered as they pulled to a stop in front of her apartment building, "I've spent the last two days acting like a lovesick fool."

"Yes," she murmured, lifting her head from his shoulders to meet his eyes. What she saw in them made her smile. "And I should still be angry with you. But it is rather flattering."

"It's also damned embarrassing." And the closest he had ever come to admitting he was in love with her.

Scully let go of him with a reluctant sigh and settled back against the passenger seat. "Will you come up?" she queried softly.

Skinner glanced around the deserted street. "That wouldn't be very wise on my part."

"No, I guess it wouldn't." She reached for the door handle and turned to search his expression. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. We still have a lot to talk about."

A shadow passed over her face. "Do you still believe our relationship is a mistake?"

It was all he could do to stop from pulling her into his arms and kissing her right then and there. Concern for her safety and her reputation were all that held him back.

"We both know this is a mistake," he answered with brutal honesty. "A huge one that could cost us our careers, not to mention the respect of our peers."

"Facts that have not changed since that very first evening, when we left our job titles behind and chose to spend some time together."

He smiled. "Unfortunately, one thing has changed and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it."

"What would that be?" she asked hesitantly.

He couldn't stop staring at her, trying to memorize every delicate detail in the faint glow from a nearby street lamp. A dark sedan drove by at that moment. Scully reacted the same way he did, falling silent until the car turned a corner two blocks up.

"Maybe we should continue this tomorrow," he suggested, resigning himself to the inevitable restrictions.

"Tomorrow," she agreed, shifting her gaze from the street back up to his face. "But there is something you can do for me before then."

"Name it."

"Promise me that you will think long and hard about what you really want." She seemed suddenly tired, close to exhaustion. "Bottom line, Walter... tonight was too painful to repeat."

The ultimate words of reassurance were right there on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated. They were not words that came easily, and the only other woman he had ever spoken them to, had said them to him first. He settled for a heartfelt, "I promise."

"Goodnight, then." Her gaze dropped lower, focusing on his mouth. "I wish…"

"So do I," he murmured softly.

She was gone before he could say any more.

Finding time to be alone with her tomorrow would be a priority. He owed her the truth - the whole truth.

"Damn."

~*~*~

Scully switched off the hairdryer and ran a hand through her hair, checking the tousled red strands for any sign of dampness. She stared at her reflection, leaning closer to the mirror as she studied the faint lines of stress around her eyes. The men in her life were responsible for many of them.

Strangely, it had all seemed so easy to control in the beginning. Working side by side with Mulder and reporting to Skinner by day, shedding the professional layers and relaxing with Walter at night. She tightened the sash around her white, terry cloth robe. Maybe a cup of hot tea would help her sleep.

She was busy at the stove when she heard the first knock. It was faint, almost secretive, ruling out a partner in search of a companion for his latest escapade. She made it to the door just as a second, more insistent, round of rapping began. The peephole was a revelation of near religious proportions.

The lock was thrown before she even realized what she was doing. Her guest slipped inside the instant the door opened wide enough to admit him.

"Dana."

The husky growl caused an instant reaction in the pit of her stomach. She closed the door and leaned back against the solid wood for support.

"I couldn't sleep," he informed her, smiling ever so slightly as he took in her thick, fluffy robe and bare feet.

"Neither could I," she admitted honestly, continuing to stare.

Dressed in form-fitting Levis, a dark green Henley, and a worn, brown leather flight jacket, the man in front of her bore little resemblance to the person who had dropped her off less than an hour earlier. Even the wire rims were gone, replaced by the contacts he habitually wore during their private time together. A dark eyebrow arched curiously in her direction.

"I took every precaution. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," she assured him, gathering her wits about her. She pushed away from the door and led the way into the living room, "Come on in."

"I was hoping to catch you before you turned in."

"You did. I just stepped out of the bath…" Scully paused, suddenly unsure of what to say next. Many a memorable evening had started and ended in the same tub she had so recently emerged from. The shrill whistle of the tea kettle reined in her thoughts. She nodded towards the kitchen. "I was just about to make some tea, would you care for some?"

"No."

"I'd better get that," she said hesitantly, walking backwards toward the kitchen. "Take off your jacket and get comfortable. I'll be right back."

By the time she returned, the jacket had been neatly hung on the back of a chair.

"Where's your tea?" he asked.

"I changed my mind."

He grinned, holding out a hand as she drew nearer. "Come here."

There was no hesitation in the powerful arms that closed around her, crushing her to his chest. The hell with tea. She tipped her head back. "Walter…"

Blunt fingers touched the dark red marks on her neck.

"They don't hurt," she assured him.

"When I think of what might have happened…"

"Don't. They are a part of the past." The bruises would fade, as would the memories.

He bent down to whisper across her lips, "How long has it been since I've kissed you?"

She didn't bother to answer, winding her arms around his neck instead, thrilled when he took the hint and kissed her roughly. A denim clad knee slid between her legs, urging them apart. It was always like this between them - the spiraling need, the desperate desire. She groaned and tore her mouth from his, gasping for air as she reluctantly backed away. Skinner was in the same condition, chest heaving as he took in one deep
breath after another. He reached out, but she stalled him, raising a hand to his shirt front. "Wait…"

Heavy-lidded brown eyes never left her face as he took hold of her hand and turned it over, pressing his mouth to the inside of her wrist.

"I am sorry for hurting you, Dana."

Scully held her breath. God help her, she wanted to trust him. "Have you given serious thought to what you're risking, Walter? To what we're both risking?"

"We both understand the stakes, Dana. We have since the beginning. The last forty-eight hours were a temporary loss of faith on my part. I promise you, it won't happen again." Pinning her hand to his chest, he bent down, nipping gently at the side of her mouth, tracing the edges with the tip of his tongue. "I'm not very good at this," he grumbled.

"I beg to differ," she responded tremulously. "I'd say you're showing quite a bit of natural talent." Her fingers tightened into a fist and she pulled on the Henley, bringing him closer. He smelled wonderful.

"I'm not talking about making love."

"I don't understand," she muttered, sliding both hands into the
waistband of his jeans. His mouth grazed over her forehead and down one side of her face. There was so much that still needed to be sorted out between them, but their conversation would have to wait. Her priorities had somehow changed.

The nuzzling behind her ear stopped.

"I'm not very good at being in love."

Scully froze. "What?"

Skinner pulled back to search her stunned expression. "Believe me, Dana, it's not an easy thing to admit to. I've been down this road before without much success." He stroked the side of her face and smiled, letting his thumb brush across her lower lip. "After Sharon left, I spent years convincing myself that I never again wanted to feel this way about a woman. I don't want to make the same mistakes, but I might be too old to change."

"I don't want you to change." She watched him closely. In truth, Mulder had done them a favor New Year's Eve. Their attempt at a casual affair had failed miserably. "I'm not Sharon," she reminded him softly. "Darkness and silence don't frighten me."

"They should." His eyes narrowed, desire momentarily replaced by what she could have sworn was sadness.

"We can't dwell in the past," she murmured, "otherwise, we'll both be lost to it. All we can do is acknowledge it, hopefully learn from it, and then move on."

"How have we managed to spend so much time together over the last three months without having this conversation?"

"We've been a little distracted."
 
"I do love you," he admitted hoarsely.

"Oh, God…." The enormity of the situation was not lost on her. She took hold of his hands, lacing her fingers through his. "We are in so much trouble."

"Trouble?"

"Big time."

"What are you saying?" he prodded.

She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger there as she quietly confessed, "You aren't the only one in love."

He groaned, frantically seeking her mouth, kissing her savagely as his hands sank into her hair. Tongues tangled in a private duel, and the sensual onslaught continued until they were forced to break for air.

"We are in so much trouble," he said, echoing her earlier statement in a thick whisper. Taking hold of her sash, he tugged, loosening the knot, deepening the neckline of her robe until it no longer existed.

Trouble had never felt so good. Skinner's mouth, still damp from their kiss, closed over her left breast, suckling the swollen peak. She arched against him instinctively, surrendering to the reckless desire that had stunned them both three short months ago. When he finally released her, her legs were unsteady, barely able to offer support.

She tugged on his shirt and he removed it immediately, letting the dark green material fall to the floor as he reached for her again. Her fingers ran wild through the crisp hair blanketing his chest. His lower body pressed urgently against hers. They moaned in unison.

"We can make this work," he swore, pushing the white robe off of her shoulders. It joined his shirt on the floor and his mouth returned to the hollow of her throat, distracting her from the large, male hand seeking out the dampness between her legs. "We'll continue to be careful. For now, only the two of us need know."

"It's too late for that." She sucked in her breath. His fingers had located a nest of silken curls and were busy exploring.

"Too late for what?" he asked.

Her voice was low and husky as she fought to maintain control. "My mother left two phone messages while I was bathing. I think it's safe to assume she's in on our secret."

"I might have to mend a few fences where your mother is concerned. She informed me in no uncertain terms that her daughter did not deserve the treatment she received tonight."

"My mother said that to you?"

"Yes, she did." His free hand slid around her waist, trailing up the length of her spine to settle on the back of her neck. "And she was right."

"She always seemed so intimidated by you in the past…." Two blunt fingers stroked her intimately, creating a need so great she pushed rhythmically against his fist in response.

He grinned. "I must be getting soft," he murmured and she assumed he was still talking about his powers of intimidation, because nothing else about Walter Skinner qualified as soft at that moment.

"Not likely," she assured him. Holding his gaze, she dispensed with his belt and tugged on his jeans. The button fly gave way easily, freeing his erection within the confines of his briefs. She stroked him through the white cotton, enjoying the labored sound of his breathing and the way his eyes narrowed, darkening until they were nearly black. As soon as the briefs hit the floor, she tipped her head slightly in the direction of her room, sighing as he captured her mouth for another hungry kiss. His hands were gentle but firm on her hips, closing over her curves as he lifted her up and guided her legs round his waist.

Skinner carried her as if she were weightless, surprising her when he sat on the edge of bed, and refused to let go of her even for the few moments required to turn down the bedding. His mouth pressed against the damp skin at the base of her throat. His open palms slid over the tops of her thighs, moving higher until they settled around her waist. The need to feel him inside of her became like a fever, rendering all other thoughts and worries insignificant. She reached down. One of his hands was already there to help.

Despite his own rush, Skinner eased into her slowly, filling and
stretching her with a self control that threatened her sanity. Finally, fully embedded in the tight, wet heat of her body, he relaxed his grip.

"Are you okay?" His hoarse question was filled with concern.

"Better than okay," she responded breathlessly. The connection she felt to this man went far beyond any of her previous experience and understanding. "This is how we should have spent New Year's eve."

Skinner groaned and sensing her impatience, allowed her to take over. His eyes closed as she lifted her hips and sank back down onto him, impaling herself over and over again until they were both so desperate for relief it took only one final thrust from him to send them crashing over the edge of pleasure into a shattering orgasm.

Skinner continued to stroke her flushed skin as the last of the
convulsions faded away. Her breathing slowly returned to normal,
becoming deep and even, matching the rise and fall of his chest. The strong, steady beat of his heart echoed reassuringly against her crushed breasts. To hold and be held in such a manner was an intimacy nearly as sensual as the act itself. A multitude of problems lay in wait outside the door of her apartment, but she turned a deaf ear, choosing to put her faith in the powerful bond they were just now beginning to explore. Recognizing that bond as love was the first step.

~*~*~

Walter Skinner glanced at the bedside clock and noted the hour. Dawn would be arriving shortly, which meant it was time for him to leave. A necessary precaution. Unfortunately, with one of Dana's legs resting between his, and one of her arms draped casually across his waist, there was no way to untangle himself without waking her.

He tightened his arms around the petite redhead and studied the delicacy of her features. Something very profound had changed between them in the space of a few hours and he had never felt less prepared for anything in his life. His emotional safety zone was crumbling fast.

"Did you get any rest?" The feminine whisper was husky with sleep.

"Not much," he admitted, pressing his lips against her hair. "It's time for me to head home." Now that she was awake there were no more excuses for prolonging the inevitable. He let go of her reluctantly and rose from the bed to dress, determined to ignore the sultry blue gaze watching his every move. His expression never wavered, but he sighed inwardly when he returned from the living room to find the sheet pulled up, covering her breasts.

After buttoning his jeans, he sat back down on the side of the bed and reached for his boots. He felt her hand on his back, fingers spread wide as she explored the muscular width of his shoulders and back. Rolling backwards onto the bed, he pinned her body full length under his. "Were you trying to get my attention, Agent Scully?"

"Yes…." Winding her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer,
pressing her mouth to his, sliding her tongue across his lower lip. When they finally broke apart, there was no mistaking the hunger in her eyes. "Must you leave so early?"

"Unfortunately, yes." He gave the sheet a tug, freeing a beautiful coral nipple that tightened quickly under his heated gaze. The temptation was too great. He tasted her briefly, accidentally grazing the rounded fullness of her breasts with his unshaven chin. She gasped and he hardened, leaving him to speculate about his secretary's reaction if he decided to call in sick.

"If you call Kim," the gorgeous redhead under him teased as if reading his thoughts, "I'll call Mulder."

His mouth froze on her stomach, his trail of kisses coming to an abrupt stop. Mulder!

"We might have one other little problem…" he murmured, moving back up the bed to look into her eyes. "When I couldn't reach you by phone, I contacted Mulder."

The ensuing silence didn't bother him half as much as the frown on her face. Each wrinkle on her forehead damned him a hundred times over for his carelessness. If she had wanted Mulder to know, she would have informed him herself, in her own way.

"That must have been very difficult for you."

The simple statement shocked him, but before he could think of a
response, she was framing his face with her hands, brushing a thumb across his lips while fathomless blue eyes pierced his soul.

"I know how much you value your privacy," she continued. "Did he give you a hard time?"

"I can handle Mulder," he assured her in a voice gruff with emotion. "Maybe we'll get lucky, and he'll remember our conversation as nothing more than a bad dream. If not - there's always Alaska."

An elegant eyebrow arched in amusement.

His own mouth quivered at the corners, but he hid it from her, returning his lips to the valley of soft skin between her breasts. He slid a hand under the sheet and was rewarded with a moan as she parted her legs in anticipation of his touch.

The bedside phone rang at that moment, a jarring reminder of the work day that would soon begin.

Skinner cleared his throat and closed his eyes for a second, before opening them again and meeting Scully's gaze. The uncertainty there was undoubtedly mirrored in his own expression. This was uncharted territory for both of them.

The phone continued to ring.

On the brink of offering to answer it, he swallowed the words when he realized she was smiling. A private smile; sexy as hell and meant only for him. He knew she was reaching for the phone, but his focus remained on her lips as she mouthed three little words guaranteed to chase proper order from his life for what he hoped was a very, very, long time.

"I love you, too," he grumbled, responding with an ease that fueled the fire in her eyes.

Remembering the caller, Scully placed the phone to her ear and spoke in a confident voice. "Hello."

~*~*~

Fox Mulder rolled onto his back and locked gazes with his dark-haired counterpart in the mirrored ceiling above his waterbed. His inability to fall back asleep after Skinner's call was a problem nowhere near as unsettling as its cause. Was that resignation or disbelief staring back through the eyes of his own reflection?

Skinner and Scully?

Admittedly, the panic in Skinner's voice had been amusing at the time, but the implications of such a match were…

Damn.

Mulder dragged himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He was never going to sleep again if the past few hours were any indication. A short time later he stood in front of the refrigerator reviewing its limited contents. He settled on a cold long-neck.

Beer at four-thirty in the morning?

"Why the hell not?" he answered himself on the way to the living room. Picking up the remote, he took a seat on the couch and channel surfed through nearly a hundred different television stations before deciding on a cable news program. The anchor person droned on about excessive government spending, but Mulder paid little attention. His thoughts were focused on a far more personal problem as he brought the chilled bottle to his lips. The bitter brew made him grimace. He set it aside.

Was he was jumping to conclusions?

Work on the X-files had been hectic during the past few months, but not so hectic that he had missed the signs of someone new in Scully's life. As her friend and partner he could have pressed for details, but not knowing "who" had made the situation easier to ignore.

How in the hell was he supposed to feel about all this?

Angry? No, he felt more guilt than anger. Kissing Scully the other night might not have been planned, but despite his suspicions regarding her personal life, he had taken advantage of the holiday situation, hoping to remind her of the bond they shared. Was fear of losing someone a good enough reason to toy with their heart? He had crossed over the line of friendship into manipulation.

His cell phone was right there on the coffee table. He picked it up and dialed Scully's number, having no idea what he would say to her if she answered. A less persistent person might have given up after the fourth or fifth ring, but not Mulder. It wasn't until the tenth ring that he started thinking about calling Skinner's apartment.

Which would have been pointless, since the first thing he overheard was a mumbled comment from Mr. By-the-book, himself. Skinner was obviously responding to something Scully said before picking up the receiver. The relationship was further along than he had suspected.

"Hello."

"Scully, it's me."

Mulder could hear the faint sound of her breathing in the silence that followed. Could she possibly be as uncertain as he was about how to proceed? Then again, maybe he was calling at a bad time. It was thought that annoyed him, despite his determination to think only of her happiness.

"We aren't due at work until eight, Mulder." Her tone was calm, offering no clues about what reaction she expected.

"Skinner called here looking for you last night. I was worried."

"He found me."

"I thought he might." The conversation was not as uncomfortable as he had feared it might be.

"Is that all you're going to say?"

The impatience in her voice brought a measure of satisfaction. He allowed himself to relax. "I'm waiting," he explained, glad she couldn't see his smile.

"Waiting for what?"

"This is the part of the conversation where you tell me not worry. You're supposed to assure me that nothing between us will change."

"Nothing between us will change, Mulder."

How matter-of-fact she sounded. How calm and collected. As if the only way to diffuse the current situation were to treat it as a non-event. The generous thing to do would be to let her get away with it.
  
"Is that the best you can do?" he teased, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table. "I'm still feeling a little insecure."

A hand must have been placed over the receiver on her end because he had trouble understanding the muffled comments that followed. Their connection cleared up before he could call her on it.

"We'll talk later today," she promised.

"I would appreciate that, Scully. There are specific issues that need to be addressed as soon as possible."

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. "For example?"

"Honesty between partners, opening the lines of communication between the three of us. This is especially important if I'm called upon to referee your fights."

"Mulder… "

"Hear me out, Scully," he interrupted. "What about sex? How can I be sure you two are safe…"

"I don't think that's any of your…"

"And holidays? Who gets you for which holiday? New Year's eve was nice this year, I'd like to think we've started our own tradition."

"Mulder!"

"Sir?" It was difficult to keep the laughter out of his voice. "I didn't realize you were there with Agent Scully," he added innocently.

"Let's talk about Alaska."

"Alaska, Sir?" The unexpected topic caught him by surprise. He could hear Scully's laughter in the background.

"Yes, Alaska. The weather is a little cool right now, but the scenery is beautiful and the days are long. You'll love it."

Skinner's message came over loud and clear.

"I'll have to pass. My parka is at the dry cleaners."

"We'll continue this conversation later then." There was another long pause. "And Mulder…"

"Yes?"

"I appreciate your discretion in this matter."

"She is everything to me, Sir." Gloves off, barriers down, it was fleeting moment of painful honesty.

"To me, also."

"I'm beginning to understand that." Mulder cleared his throat, and added, "Tell Scully I'll see her at the office."

"I will." Skinner hesitated for a few seconds, then disconnected the call.

The first confrontation had gone well enough, Mulder decided on his way back to the bedroom to dress. He planned on getting to work early and attacking the stack of files on his desk. Once Scully showed up, they would talk things through, just as they always had. He wasn't losing a partner, he was gaining a …

Oh, never mind.

THE END

  (aerltec@aol.com)