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"Who?" For once, Skinner was willing to overlook Mulder's unannounced eruption into his sanctum.

"Boy Jackson," the agent sneered. "Don't tell me he's not sitting by your elbow, scooping up pearls of wisdom from the almighty? Or, maybe he's waiting at your place for a little late-night mentoring? "

"I don't have any idea where Agent White is." Skinner felt a moment of panic, wondering if he'd gone too far teasing his lover about the intern.

"Lucky for you that's the right answer." The agent dropped into a chair grinning maliciously. "Good evening, sir," he added politely. "Special Agent Mulder, here. I'd like to report on my latest case and hear your opinions on the matter."

"Get out of my office, Agent Mulder," Skinner said firmly. "And make an appointment if you want to discuss your case. You can't just burst in here any time you feel like it."

"I know," the agent mocked. "It's not good discipline. I'll work on that."

Skinner glared mutely.

"What's the matter?" Mulder grinned at him lazily. "Your lust for respect and discipline wearing thin already?"

"My patience may be."

"I knew it," Mulder jumped up and crossed behind the wooden desk, starting down at his lover in disgust. "It took me months to get you loosened up. A week with that sycophant and you're worse than ever."

"Agent White," Skinner said calmly, "is a highly qualified Bureau employee. He is not a sycophant just because he's willing to take some direction."

"When I talked to you on the phone, you were practically ready to marry the guy," Mulder accused.

Skinner leaned back in his chair. "Worried?" He gave the agent an evil smile.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it was to concentrate on the case with half my brain on the idea of that asshole trying to make you in the parking garage every evening?"

"I had hoped you'd find the information motivational."

"You were wrong."

"And yet," Skinner pointed out, "here you are. Less than forty-eight hours and the case is wrapped up, isn't it? Where is Agent Scully?"

"She's downstairs, dropping off the evidence. And if it makes you happy, she thinks I'm crazy. A perfectly ordinary case, and there I am, rousting out the local police and the witnesses at all hours of the night, making a fool of myself."

"How could she tell the difference?"

"Don't be funny, Walter." The agent glared at him tiredly. "Someone could have gotten hurt, rushing through the case like that."

"Not very likely," Skinner told him. "I spoke with the local Chief of Police that afternoon. I knew what you were up against. And, of course, I relied upon your good sense."

"Scully thinks I'm a sex fiend," the agent folded his arms and sulked toward the window.

"How did she get that impression?"

"I don't know. Maybe for some crazy reason she thought I was in a screaming hurry to get back to Washington after we'd been out of town for all of three days. I don't think she respects me any more."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Walter assured him. "Agent Scully put in a request last week to have the next few days off. She's going to a family reunion and I understand she wanted to leave today. I'd imagine she's delighted to have this case closed in time."

"Is that what this is?" Mulder scowled down at him. "A conspiracy?"

"A little paranoia is a good thing, in your job, Agent Mulder," Skinner reprimanded. "But don't get carried away. Now, get out of here. I have work to do."

"I'll tell you one thing, Walter. If I check your closet tonight and your all shoes have been freshly shined, there's going to be trouble."

"Go home. Take a shower, shave, put on some clean clothes. Be back here by noon."

"I still don't believe you did that." Mulder headed for the door, shaking his head. "Calling me in the middle of a case to wave that cheap shit White in my face."

"You wanted an obscene phone call," Walter reminded him. "Be careful what you ask for, Agent Mulder."

"I'm going to get you for this, you know that."

As the agent left the office, Walter wondered if he should have mentioned that White would be assigned to replace Agent Scully for the next week as Mulder's partner.

****

Scully left for her scheduled vacation as soon as she had checked in the evidence from the pair's most recent case. Mulder was summoned to Assistant Director Skinner's office as soon as he returned to the office.

"Agent Mulder, I believe you're acquainted with Agent White." Skinner made the introduction smoothly, suppressing a grin at the look that flickered through Mulder's eyes.

White offered his hand and Mulder was forced to take it. Instead of a brief, professional shake, White gave the limp palm a long squeeze, favoring his temporary partner with a brilliant, inviting smile. "I'm delighted to meet you again, Agent Mulder."

"Right." Mulder pulled his hand free pointedly.

"I've been looking forward to working with you," the younger man said. His eyes skimmed Mulder's tall form speculatively.

If Mulder had been watching him, the situation might have resolved itself right then, but he wasn't. He was looking sourly at his boss. Skinner kept his face impassive, telling himself firmly that he couldn't really put White on report for the way he shook hands. Or for showing enthusiasm for an assignment.

"Agent Mulder will show you his office and explain the purpose of the X-Files, Jackson." Skinner could see Mulder's almost invisible reaction to his casual use of the intern's first name.

"It will be a pleasure, sir." White smiled at both of them impartially. "In the meantime, I need to drop off some reports. Shall we say, in five minutes? By the elevator?" An indefinable something in his voice made it sound like an assignation.

"Absolutely." Mulder gave his own most brilliant smile. He turned to his boss. "May I have a word with you, sir?"

"Certainly, Agent Mulder." Skinner nodded at the third man. "I'll see you at 3:00, Agent White, to review those inventory reports."

"I'll be ready."

As the door closed behind him, Skinner braced himself.

"I'd like to thank you for this assignment, sir." Mulder grinned smugly.

"You would?"

"Certainly," Mulder said with mock surprise. "I've heard very good things about Agent White's abilities and I look forward to the opportunity to spend some time with him. In addition," and he reached for the doorknob, "if he's with me, I can be sure he's not up here polishing your desk with his butt."

Walter had to speak quickly to get his answer out before Mulder opened the door. "No doubt you feel the furniture in your office would be a more suitable place for such activities?"

"Maybe." Mulder smirked. "You never know."

Walter winced as the door closed behind his lover with more force than was absolutely necessary. So far, it was a draw. He turned his attention back to the paperwork on his desk and was soon lost in the reports, memos, and budget requests that littered most of his days.

****

"Tell me about this shower thing." Mulder was sitting in the middle of Walter's couch with his gun on the table in front of him when Walter unlocked the door to his apartment. "I've been thinking about it."

"I can tell." Walter eyed the gun cautiously. "I think you're placing too much importance on the incident."

"I mean," Mulder ignored him and sailed on bitterly. "If you were checking this guy out, it's safe to assume he was returning the favor, right?"

"I really wouldn't know. Not that I noticed."

"Bullshit. I can see it now. The two of you alone in that shower, him giving you the eye, then dropping the soap like something in a low-budget porn flick. Go ahead, tell me all about it, Walter."

Walter walked over, kicked the table out of the way, and dragged Mulder to his feet. Wrapping both arms around his lover, Walter gave him the punishing kiss he'd wanted to deliver in the office that afternoon. Eventually Mulder tore his mouth away and buried his head on Walter's shoulder, muttering breathlessly.

"Welcome home," Walter breathed into the nearest ear.

"Shit. I can't believe this," Mulder groaned.

"Is there a problem I can help you with, Agent Mulder?" Walter let his hands slide down to cup his lover's ass through the soft sweat pants. He explored the area slowly with both hands, confirming his suspicion that Mulder hadn't bothered with his underwear.

"I don't suppose you were thinking about having sex in the next thirty seconds?" the agent mumbled desperately.

"Not really," Walter admitted. He pinched Mulder's ass. "But if you're feeling insecure, something could be arranged." He smiled maliciously into the agent's eyes. "Take off all your clothes and I'll say something reassuring."

Mulder's eyes wavered between amusement and arousal as he pulled out of his lover's arms abruptly. Kicking out of the loose sweatpants, he yanked his tee shirt over his head and plastered his naked self against Walter's business suit. "Talk to me, Walter," he challenged.

Walter's arms were immediately glued to his lover's body. "You asshole."

"Very reassuring," Mulder smirked.

At that moment the doorbell rang.

"Don't tell me." Mulder narrowed his eyes, but didn't move. "White?"

"Dinner," Walter said smugly. "I ordered Chinese. You'd better put your pants back on."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm going to open that door in five seconds," Walter told him calmly. He headed for the door, smiling slightly as he heard Mulder cursing and dragging his clothes back on.

Walter ignored Mulder's sulky expression. He handed the younger man the paper bags and pushed him toward kitchen. "Why don't you grab some plates?" While Mulder unpacked the food, he changed out of his suit into a pair of soft sweatpants and a faded tee-shirt that he knew Mulder liked.

When he returned to the kitchen, Mulder was scowling at the paper sack and unpacking the contents slowly. Walter moved in behind him and slipped his hands under the loose shirt.

Mulder tensed, then leaned against him slightly. "You're in quite a mood tonight, Walter. What's going on? Guilty conscience?"

"Not at all," Walter assured him.

"I think you're lying." Mulder arched his neck invitingly. "I think that scrawny slut got to you."

"Scrawny?" Walter smiled slightly. "I wouldn't say that. Maybe he's been working out since you met him. Or, maybe," he bit the agent's neck sharply and pulled his arms away, "the lighting just wasn't that good in the bathroom."

"You mean 'the shower'," Mulder accused.

"No. I mean the famous bathroom rendezvous at Quantico." Walter led the way as the two men took their food to the dining table.

"I told you, that's ancient history."

"Obviously," Walter said politely. "It took you almost two seconds to remember the guy when I mentioned his name."

"So, what crimes has he perpetrated since your last phone bulletin?"

"This is a very unreasonable attitude you've adopted, Mulder." Walter took a healthy bite of his sweet and sour pork. "Actually, I did speak with him yesterday afternoon. I don't think you have anything to be upset about, though."

"Why not?"

"It's probably just a misunderstanding."

"Don't assume I won't shoot you just because you bought me dinner."

"He probably wasn't really asking me to fuck him in the middle of my office," Walter said reassuringly.

Mulder choked on his rice and glared mutely.

"He may have been suggesting we go someplace else," Walter explained. "The situation was somewhat ambiguous." He leaned back and took a drink thoughtfully. "I'll ask him to clarify it tomorrow, if you want."

"I want...." Mulder began through clenched teeth. He gave his lover a suspicious look. "Did this really happen or do you have some private reason for wanting me to kill this guy?"

Walter smothered a smile. "He asked me if I'd be interested in considering options for expanding our relationship in the near future."

"That's so... dumb," Mulder complained bitterly.

"Not at all. It was subtle. I know that's a new concept for you. I was very flattered." Actually, Walter had been angry, but he didn't have any intention of telling Mulder that just yet. He didn't want or need assistance in fending off the handsome young agent's crude advances. What he did want was to make certain that his lover's attention was firmly fixed on his boss before White and Mulder were teamed up for the next ten days. He hadn't liked the gleam in the intern's eyes when he was informed about the temporary assignment.

Mulder laughed outright. "Flattered? Now I know you're lying. You'd deck Errol Flynn if he made a pass at you in the office."

"I don't think Errol Flynn was bisexual."

"Rudolph Valentino, then. You're just trying to ruin my day. More than you already have, I mean."

"Just as long as we both understand you won't be pretending later that I didn't mention it." Walter dumped his dirty plates in the sink and headed for the living room. There was a game on they both wanted to watch. Mulder was right behind him.

"So, what did you tell him? Did you go the coy route with 'this is so sudden' or did you throw yourself into his arms enthusiastically and start planning the honeymoon?"

"I told him that his work, so far, has been more than satisfactory and that it would be unfortunate if I were forced to make a report of his irregular behavior." Walter stretched out on the couch comfortably, expecting Mulder to join him. Instead, the younger man walked around the room moodily.

"Don't tell me. It didn't discourage him at all, did it?"

In fact, White had adopted a smug, satisfied air that would have been overdone if his pass had been successful. He had a calm self-assurance that made even Mulder's cockiness look modest.

"We didn't discuss the subject further." Walter shoved a pillow under his shoulders, watching his lover through veiled eyes. He was more than satisfied with Mulder's reaction so far.

"Trust me, he'll be back. It's almost impossible to get rid of him."

"Is this the voice of personal experience?"

"As a matter of fact, it is. He showed up at the door of my room that famous night, claiming he wanted to talk about some lecture notes."

"To which you replied...." Walter invited.

Mulder looked away. "I didn't. I mean I wasn't...."

"You weren't what? Dressed for company? Somehow I don't think he would have minded."

Mulder almost blushed. "I didn't answer the door."

"You're joking."

"No." The agent looked defensive. "I didn't want talk to him, and I sure as hell wasn't going to invite him into my room. I wasn't in the mood for a wrestling match."

"So you just cowered there in the dark?" Walter laughed maliciously. "I would have expected more direct action from you, Agent Mulder. If you had been in the mood for wrestling, would this story have a happier ending?"

Mulder scowled at him. "If you think this is going to distract me from the subject of that cheese-brain dropping his pants and jumping up on your conference table, you're wrong. Maybe I should talk to him."

"You're exaggerating again. The young man made a polite offer of interest." Walter looked at his lover with disapproval. "I'm perfectly capable of discouraging him, or anyone else, when necessary."

"Anyone else? Who else have you been flirting with?" Mulder looked at him in disbelief. "Jesus, Walter, is this how you pass the time when I'm risking life and limb for my country? How many others do you have on the string?"

"Were you under the impression that the rest of the world found me invisible?" Walter raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "Or did you assume that my advanced years and decrepit physical condition would be an obstacle?"

Mulder looked at his lover's snug sweatpants and faded, stretched tee-shirt. "That was probably it."

"Then this must be quite a shock for you," Walter said politely. He stretched out and flipped on the television, letting Mulder brood on his own for a few minutes.

 "Walter." Mulder looked down at him thoughtfully.

"Yes?"

"Why are you telling me this?" Mulder sat on the edge of the couch next to him, watching his lover closely.

"I thought you'd be interested."

"From what you're telling me, I have to assume that you're fending off the lustful advances of subordinates, delivery boys, and the valet parking staff every moment of every day. Why did you think I'd be interested in White, particularly?"

Walter pulled the agent down next to him. He traced the curve of Mulder's lower lip slowly, then wrapped his arm around the younger man's waist, sliding his hand under the cotton shirt.

"Why didn't you tell me about him?"

"I can protect myself from Jackson White," Mulder said indignantly. "Or a hundred people like him."

"And I know I can believe that statement," Walter said sincerely, "because of how well you did handle the situation. I can see how hiding in your bedroom was the most mature and professional course of action available."

"I knew you'd use that against me," Mulder said regretfully. "I was busy, Walter. I was making some notes for the next day's lecture and I didn't want to be interrupted. I wouldn't have opened the door for almost anyone right then."

"Very likely, since I know how thoroughly you're in the habit of preparing for those lectures."

Mulder looked uncomfortable. Walter imagined he regretted revealing that he had once delivered two full days of lectures from the notes on the back of a business card.

"What was it about Jackson White that made you prefer hiding under the bed to being alone in a room with him?" Walter demanded.

Mulder dismissed the idea. "How about you? Are you sending out signals? I wouldn't be surprised, based on your obvious admiration for him."

Walter rolled his lover over carefully, pulling the younger man's back against his chest. "We can discuss it at halftime."

Mulder relaxed and smiled over his shoulder. "You'll never replace me with White," he said positively.

"You seem very certain of that all of a sudden."

"I am. Even my limited experience with the guy tells me he is not the type to appreciate running second-best to Monday Night Football."

"It's Tuesday."

"Different day. Same concept." He snorted in amusement. "It wouldn't surprise me if he belonged to a bowling league."

"An all-American pastime," Walter mentioned approvingly, his attention turning to the television screen. Baiting Mulder, as much as he enjoyed it, could wait for a while longer. In any case, he was completely tired of talking about Jackson White. He settled in to watch the game.

Mulder wrapped his arms around Walter's waist, snuggling possessively against his lover's chest. Watching the younger man's profile, Walter could see the echo of the agent's earlier worried frown. Walter grinned slightly. He had been correct in thinking the agent took his lover's presence for granted, but Walter was reasonably certain Mulder wouldn't be making the same mistake again any time soon.

By the middle of the third quarter, Walter was certain he had his lover's undivided attention and both men had stopped even pretending to care about the outcome of the contest.

As usual, they missed the end of the game and by the time they made it to the bedroom, Mulder was single-minded enough to convince Walter that drawing the persistently available Jackson White to Mulder's attention had been as good an idea as he had hoped.  

****

Walter stretched luxuriously, reveling in a feeling of well-being. Glancing at the clock, he frowned sleepily. 4:30. A criminal time to wake up, even on a work day. And, his hand reached for and noted the empty pillow next to him, a criminal time to wake up alone, on any day.

A few seconds later, his brain managed to interpret the raucous sounds from behind the closed bathroom door. Mulder was singing. Either that, or he was practicing some arcane and obscure satanic ritual. Possibly he was being tortured. The way Mulder sang, it was hard to be certain. He frowned, trying to place the song over the handicap of a tone-deaf singer who had apparently forgotten the words. What he heard was:

Glibby glop glooby
Glibby Globby Glooby la la la lo lo...

There was something oddly and vaguely familiar about it. He probably wouldn't know until whoever owned the lyrics and music showed up with a cease-and-desist order that prevented the agent from doing any more damage to the song. Listening to the third repetition of the same garbled lyrics, Walter hoped it would happen soon. The noise wasn't quite loud enough to inspire him to get up and leave the room, but he gave a sigh of relief when the shower stopped.

He rearranged the pillows so he could sit up. Walter didn't have any intention of getting out of bed a full hour before it was necessary, but he was curious to know what was inspiring the normally reluctant agent to not only rise before dawn, but to sing in the shower.

"What, no coffee?" Mulder returned to the room like a whirlwind, bouncing on the bed as he dragged on his jeans.

"You want room service, go to a hotel."

"I'm not allowed to stay at places like that," the agent claimed. "They're too expensive." He crawled up the bed until he was straddling his lover's lap, grinning down at the sleepy, almost-annoyed expression on Walter's face.

"Good morning, starshine," he chirped with malicious perkiness.

"Fuck you, Mulder," Walter growled. That's what it was. "What excuse do you have for inflicting this kind of behavior on me before dawn?"

"What behavior? I was letting you sleep in."

"You really expected me to sleep while you're in the next room torturing goats or something?"

"I take it you didn't care for my choice of music. Next time I'll try Vivaldi."

"If there's a next time, you're going to get your shower privileges revoked."

"If you were awake, you should have joined me," Mulder said with satisfaction. "I needed someone to wash my back."

"You needed a gag."

Mulder leaned over and drew his tongue slowly across his lover's mouth and gave him a quick, deep kiss. "More bondage ideas? Sounds great...when do we start?"

"Take your pants off and we'll start now," Walter invited.

Mulder grinned. "You're only saying that because you know I can't stay."

"Where the hell are you going at 4:30 in the morning?"

"I have to go home and change into my mild-mannered FBI agent disguise," Mulder reminded him. "I'm going to Bentonville with your boyfriend, remember?"

"With whom, no doubt, you will be singing duets as you travel?"

"If necessary." Mulder kissed him again, and abandoned his position to search for the rest of his clothes.

"It's always nice to see two people bonding over their work."

Mulder threw him a pointed look. "I can live with the accusation."

"Tell me something, Agent Mulder." Walter crossed his arms and stared at the agent grimly. "Yesterday you wanted the guy assigned to the outer reaches of Siberia. Today you break into song at the idea of being cooped up in a car with him for six hours or more. What happened to change your opinion?"

"Nothing." Mulder leaned over the bed, trapping Walter's head between his arms. He stared down at his lover consideringly. "But if he's not going to be transferred to Alaska, I can live with any alternative that doesn't have him worshipping at your feet while I have my back turned. If you know what I mean."

"I don't find this particular alternative acceptable."

"Tough luck," Mulder advised. "You should have gotten rid of him when you had the chance. Now it's my turn."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I haven't missed your unusual silence on the subject of your meeting with him yesterday. Considering the way you've been boring me with a blow-by-blow account of his behavior up until now, I find it suspicious."

"Nothing happened."

"Which, in WalterSpeak, means that he made an all-out pass at you." Mulder bent down and kissed his lover softly. "Don't try to fool me. I'm a highly trained Federal Investigator. And I have a gun."

"I've heard that one before. I told you I'm perfectly capable of dealing with the matter myself."

"You may be capable," Mulder pointed out, "but you're strangely reluctant. Which leads me to suspect that you're trying to let him down gently."

Walter tried to avoid looking embarrassed. "I didn't see any reason to do otherwise."

"That's because, in spite of everything I told you about the guy, you assume he has feelings that can be hurt. Trust me, Walter. He doesn't."

"What are you going to do?"

Mulder sat down next to him and leaned comfortably again his lover's chest, looking at him thoughtfully. "Right now, I'm going to make a speech."

"Wonderful. This is definitely what I want to hear at 4:30 in the morning." But Walter couldn't resist wrapping his arms around the slim waist. Mulder was a cuddler in the morning. Walter normally discouraged this except on the weekends.

"Shut up and listen." Mulder glanced over at him quickly. "We've never made any kind of commitment. Obviously you're free to date half the population of the Eastern Seaboard if you want to."

"Really? How open-minded of you," Walter said politely. This was not what he had been hoping to hear.

"Yes." Mulder frowned slightly. "If it makes a difference, I'd rather you didn't, of course."

"I'll bear that in mind," Walter promised. "And in turn, I should offer you the same freedom." One hand twisted in the agent's brown hair casually, pulling his head back to let him see his lover's serious face. "But I'm not going to."

"No?" An odd look flickered in Mulder's eyes.

"No."

"Thank god." Mulder closed his eyes and slumped against his lover. "For a minute I thought we were going to be tolerant and permissive."

Walter held him tightly, looking down at Mulder's brilliant smile. "Asshole."

Mulder untangled himself carefully, brushing a kiss across his lover's mouth. "I love you, too. And now I'm late."

He took off at a half-run and Walter could hear his progress down the stairs and to the door, listening for and hearing the soft thud as the door closed behind him. He felt breathless and unbalanced, like stepping on a step that wasn't there. Was Mulder running from the declaration or from his reaction?

Walter climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. The first order of business, he decided, was Jackson White's transfer. If he remembered correctly, the Violent Crimes division was screaming for extra help. Walter smiled maliciously. He had never liked his counterpart in that division anyhow. Jackson White was just what Jamison deserved.

****

The end