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Disclaimers: The characters described below belong to Chris Carter and Ten-Thirteen productions. I really don't have any business using them for my own private amusement but I understand that since I'm not making any money at it, I'm not actually breaking any major laws. 

Other: I'd like to apologize to people who love garden gnomes and find themselves frightened by the idea of potential harm coming to one. I stole the information on the gnome-napping of Uncle Gnomie from an Urban Legends site on AOL. I don't suppose they'll notice. Anyhow...you can't own a lie. Can you?

Beta credit needs to go to Lynn who read this one and liked the gnomes. She also corrected multitudes of misplaced commas.

Author: annezo @ fastmail . fm

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AFTER HOURS

"No, really, listen to this," Mulder insisted. "A family in England had a garden gnome on their front lawn that was almost like a member of the family. The children played with the gnome and he was referred to as Uncle Gnomie."

"Mulder!" Scully tried in vain to interrupt.

Mulder ignored her blithely. "One day, the children went out into the yard, happily anticipating a game of Super Gnome and His Two Sidekicks. But Uncle Gnomie was nowhere to be found. The children ran screaming into the house to share the horrible news with Mom and Dad. The entire family fell into a deep depression. Now, who would steal a garden gnome?"

"Agent Mulder," Skinner warned.

Mulder was oblivious. "They never found out. But six months later, pictures started arriving. Each month a different picture would arrive."

"That will be enough, Agent Mulder."

Scully cleared her throat and shook her head slightly at her partner. He lapsed into a restless silence.

"Agent Scully," Skinner ignored his lover in favor of addressing the sane half of the pair. "Why is Agent Mulder investigating the disappearance of a lawn ornament some unnamed time in the past in a different county?"

"He isn't, sir." Mulder's unexpected, and unheralded, lunacy was as embarrassing to his partner as it was irritating to their superior.

"Then why am I being treated," and Skinner's voice made it clear that the word wasn't his first choice, "to a lecture on the subject?"

"I believe, sir, that Agent Mulder is in a good mood," Scully offered.

"As gratifying as I find that information," the AD said sourly, "I believe there are other places, and more appropriate ways for him to demonstrate it. During this meeting, I would prefer that the two of you confine the discussion to your recent investigation."

"Uncle Gnomie at the Eiffel Tower, Uncle Gnomie on the Great Wall of China," Mulder offered hopefully. "Uncle Gnomie wearing a small white suit with huge lapels at Graceland."

Skinner swallowed an involuntary smile. No matter what his lover's mood portended for the upcoming weekend, he couldn't allow office protocol to be sidestepped.

"The case, Agent Scully," he prompted.

"Solved," she said with understandable satisfaction. "Working in conjunction with the local police, Agent Mulder compiled a profile of the suspect that enabled us to apprehend him in the act of setting the second bomb." She flipped her notes over and smiled serenely at her boss. "The bomb was defused without incident and the suspect is currently being held without bail, pending a hearing."

"No casualties?"

"No, sir. We determined that the suspect would be less likely to suspect a group of young adults in the area, so the local police put together a team of younger officers who infiltrated the area under surveillance and apprehended the suspect cleanly."

"That was Scully's contribution," Mulder offered. "She's the one who thought of disguising the police officers."

To Skinner's eyes, Scully looked mildly embarrassed and he realized she must have come in for an unusual amount of praise from the local officials for the inspiration. "Good job, Agent Scully."

"Thank you, sir," she said primly.

"I assume your formal report will be on my desk by," Skinner checked his calendar, "2:00 Monday?"

"Yes, sir," Scully answered and Skinner understood it was her turn to create a concise, formal report from the debris of jottings and half-explained scrawlings of ideas that constituted Mulder's share of the case notes.

All the better, since it meant there would be nothing to distract Mulder from their reunion this weekend. Skinner thought back over the past few weeks and the constant absence of the two agents as they moved from one case to another. Some of the investigations, the two agents had joined at the request of the local Bureau office or the local police. Others were Mulder's pet X-Files. An astonishing string of luck had followed the two agents as case after case had been brought to a successful conclusion. Although, as each of the X-Files was proven to be a case of ordinary, human criminality, Mulder had been slightly depressed.

While the AD was pleased at this justification of his faith in the two agents, his private life had been suffering. A problem that would disappear as soon as he could get through the rest of this afternoon at the office.

"Do you have any thing pertinent to add, Agent Mulder?" He risked turning his eyes back to his lover's face, hoping that Mulder had regained his normal impassivity. No such luck.

"Uncle . . ." Mulder's voice trailed off at the warning glint in Skinner's eyes. "Nothing to add at this time, sir," he said meekly.

Something in his voice alerted Skinner and he stared at the younger man suspiciously. He did not intend to spend his weekend listening to the spurious adventures of an imaginary lawn ornament. Skinner opened his mouth to tell Mulder this, in no uncertain terms, then realized that any such remark would be ten times as improper as anything Mulder had done or said so far. Skinner abandoned the uneven struggle.

"If there is nothing else," he said calmly, "I believe we're done here."

He waited until the two agents had almost reached the door. "Agent Mulder, I'd like to speak with you for one moment."

Scully gave her partner a sympathetic look and slipped out the door.

"What was that?" Walter narrowed his eyes when Mulder grinned carelessly. "Just living dangerously or was there a point to that tirade?"

"I have excitement in my life," Mulder told him. "More than I need, most of the time. Right now, I'm going home." He grinned lecherously. "Your choices are to stay here and play with yourself or if you'd prefer some company, you can follow me." He headed for the door with unmistakable determination.  "Maybe I'll see you later."

. . . .

Walter was late home, of course. It was typical that the one day he wanted to get out of the office early everyone in the building had a last minute crises. Normally the Bureau offices were deserted by 4:00 on a Friday afternoon as everyone who thought they could get away with it slipped out to start their weekend early. Walter had always frowned on this behavior and, until Fox Mulder had turned his life upside-down, he had prided himself on treating Friday just like any other day of the week. Today, after four weeks of almost constant separation from his lover, he would have willingly broken his own rule, given half a chance.

As it was, he almost slammed into his condo at 6:30 -- shedding his coat as he headed eagerly for the telephone.

"Hold it right there, pilgrim," a voice directed from the dimness of the living room. Mulder smiled from his nest of cushions on the large couch.

"You're already here." It wasn't his warmest greeting but the sight of Mulder on his couch, where he had existed only in Walter's memory for the past several weeks, was as unexpected as it was welcome.

"Where else would I be?" Mulder stretched, locking his hands behind his neck. "Don't stop. I like where you were going, there."

Walter frowned. "I was going to the phone, to call you."

"No you weren't," Mulder corrected. "You were taking off your coat. Keep going, I'll tell you when to stop."

Walter slipped off his jacket and tossed it on a nearby chair, following it with his tie. Crossing the room, he dropped onto the couch next to his long-awaited lover. Dragging the younger man into his arms, Walter ended the conversation with a brief kiss.

"Nice of you to come back to town," he said casually.

He crossed back to the small desk to retrieve his coat and hang it in the closet. Picking up his jacket and tie, he headed for the stairs. "I'm going to change. Have you called to order dinner?"

"Walter." Some note in the husky voice stopped him in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder at Mulder's knowing smile. "Give it up. You're busted."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"I saw you when you walked in. You couldn't get to the phone fast enough." Mulder chuckled. "You missed me."

"Possibly," Walter admitted cautiously.

"It's these little displays of unbridled passion that keep the magic in this relationship," Mulder said thoughtfully. "That kiss, for instance. It was certainly worth waiting a month for."

"You want unbridled passion, Mulder," Skinner suggested. "Try showing a little enthusiasm yourself. Next time, try standing up, for instance."

"I thought you might find the position inspirational."

Walter looked at the stairwell, then back at his lover. "I've been waiting a month for this, Mulder. Get off your ass and get up the stairs."

"First things, first," Mulder said calmly. He leaned back and looked at the ceiling dreamily. "The family never found out who had gnome-napped their friend. But, they were happy. Because they knew that Uncle Gnomie was seeing the world." He smiled at his lover. "I have a theory."

"Agent Mulder," Walter said dangerously. "If I hear one more word about lawn ornaments this weekend...."

"You'll do what?" Mulder challenged. "Not all X-Files are going to be mass murderers and alien abductions, Walter. The little people have a right to have their problems solved too."

"Not on my personal time." Walter stared at his lover helplessly. Short of grabbing the younger man and carrying him up the stairs, he wasn't sure what options were left open to him. He knew Mulder was watching him closely. The hazel eyes had that almost-sleepy look of sensuality that poured heat through Walter's veins and eliminated his normally iron control over his reactions.

"Are you coming with me?" He leaned toward the stairs, then stopped when Mulder showed no sign of leaving the couch.

"In a minute."

"What are you waiting for?"

"It's that look in your eyes," Mulder said softly. "The one that says you want me. Now. And you don't know how to say it." He smiled. "The one that says you know what's going to happen, but you can't remember how to get there from here."

"I know what you mean." Walter forced his suddenly dry throat to produce the words. "That look that says I'm degenerating into a hopeless imbecile."

"That's the one." He looked smug. Walter stared at him wordlessly. "I like that look," Mulder explained, "because I'm the only one who gets to see it."

Mulder's contented face was like a wash of cool water over Walter's fogged brain. "You are," he admitted. "Why are you still laying there?"

"Because I did call out for dinner," Mulder admitted. "And if I let you get me up those stairs, we're not going to be in any shape to eat it, when it arrives. Assuming we remember to answer the door."

"That's true." Walter wavered, torn between grabbing a quick, and cold shower, and returning to the living room. Mulder took care of that decision for him.

"Come back over here," he invited. He shifted over on the couch, making room for Walter next to him.

Walter felt himself drawn to the couch, almost hypnotized by the look in his lover's eyes. He dropped his burden on the nearest chair and kicked off his shoes automatically. When he stretched out next to Mulder, the younger man slipped into his arms automatically. He gave Walter a quick, sweet kiss, then broke away to smile over at him.

"Much better," he purred.

Mulder's fingers slipped between the buttons on Walter's shirt, gliding over the smooth skin delicately. With slow, deliberate movements, he unfastened each button in turn, working his way from the stiff collar down to where the shirt disappeared into the dark dress pants. When all the available buttons were released, Mulder pushed the fabric out of the way, exposing the broad chest to his exploring fingers. Walter watched his lover's careful movements, almost forgetting to breathe.

"It always takes twice as long as it should to get you to this point," Mulder teased.

"I'm not playing hard to get," Walter pointed out. "Unless you want me to strip naked the second I come through the door, just to save time and prove my sincerity."  

"That would be nice," Mulder said thoughtfully. "I always like some tangible proof of intent."  

"In your dreams, Agent Mulder." Walter shook his head and leaned back. "You have too many weird and unannounced visitors. One of these days, some of them are going to show up here, I'm just sure of it."  

"The door is locked," Mulder pointed out. "But if you're really worried about it, maybe we should play gin rummy and forget about doing anything we wouldn't want the neighbors to know about."  

Mulder was getting just a little too sure of himself.

"That might be a good idea," Walter agreed amiably. "It will pass the time until dinner arrives. Where are the cards?"  

Mulder grinned and walked over to the desk and dug out a pack of old cards. He handed them to his lover and slipped onto the couch next to him. "So, what do you want to play? Strip poker is always a good ice-breaker." 

"I believe the game in question was gin rummy," Walter said firmly. 

"I hate rummy," Mulder sulked. Then he looked doubtful. "Besides, strip rummy will take all night, as slowly as you play." 

"You have a better idea? Deal." 

Mulder didn't move. Walter picked up the deck, shuffled, and dealt a hand. Picking up his own cards, he began to arrange them carefully.

Mulder sighed loudly. When his lover ignored him, the agent scooped his own cards from the table and began to sort them.

Although this hadn't been the way he had expected the evening to end, Walter was enjoying himself. Mulder was a lousy card player, but his hesitation gave his lover more time to watch the younger man. He realized that after the stress of the day, he was ready for a quieter evening than usual. When the doorbell rang, they retrieved the food and by unspoken agreement ate it from the cardboard boxes while they continued the game.

Mulder discarded carelessly, watching without emotion as his lover scooped up his discard and displayed another winning hand. "Why are we doing this?"

"It was your idea," Walter pointed out. "Welcome to suburbia, Agent Mulder. This is how normal, civilized adults spend their time. "

"If I'd known we were going to have a tea party, I would have made cucumber sandwiches." Mulder gave him a dirty look. "It's so nice to have you," he said with sweet insincerity.

"You haven't." Walter gave him an evil grin. "Yet."

"I was wondering when we'd get to that."

"What makes you think we're going to?"

"I haven't forgotten that little episode in your office."

"Your turn to deal," Walter pointed out.

"You don't seriously want to spend the entire evening sitting here playing cards?"

 "I thought we might."

Mulder shuffled thoughtfully. "Stakes?"

"Now that you mention it . . . "

"What did you have in mind?"

"A back rub?" Walter offered.

Mulder shook his head. "Hardly worth the effort," he reproved. "Think big, Walter. How about a full-body massage?"

"Even better." Walter stretched and thought with anticipation of the reward.

"You haven't won yet," Mulder said indignantly.

"We've been playing for an hour," Walter pointed out. "You haven't won a hand yet."

"I wasn't trying."

"You could just admit that you can't play cards," Walter suggested.

Mulder opened his mouth, looked at his lover, then smiled thoughtfully. Walter wondered what the other man was plotting.

"If I catch you cheating, you forfeit," he warned.

Mulder shook his head. "Poker."

"You're no better at that than you are at rummy."

"Maybe," Mulder admitted, "but it's faster."

Walter shrugged and picked up the cards. "Five card draw?"

"Works for me," the younger man said cheerfully. "Best two hands out of three?"

Walter didn't feel quite that energetic yet. He shook his head. "Fifteen," he said calmly. "Eight out of fifteen." He gave his lover a malicious smile. "Who knows? You might even win one or two."

In fact, Mulder did better than that. He managed to win three hands before Walter took the required eight.

"I think it's time we moved this party to a more appropriate location," Mulder said, trying look humbled. He stood up and pulled the older man to his feet and toward the hall.

Once in the bedroom, Mulder pushed him toward the bed, his arms around his lover already working on the fastening to his pants. Walter waited while his lover undressed him, then obeyed the unspoken command to sprawl out on the bed. He watched with lazy enjoyment as Mulder stripped off his own clothes.

Kneeling on the bed over his lover, Mulder surveyed him with satisfaction. "This is more like it."

"You know," Walter mentioned, "I'll bet there are thousands of people who manage to spend hours and hours together, every day, without having sex."

"You're complaining?" Mulder fished in the bedside table and came up with a bottle of massage cream. "If I remember correctly, this is why you were invited here this evening."

"Ordered," Walter corrected.

"Invited," Mulder insisted. With gentle hands he urged his lover over onto his stomach. "I suppose you'd rather be doing paperwork or something." A few seconds later, hands covered with the silky lotion descended on Walter's back, sweeping a cool path from his shoulders to his waist.

Walter folded his arms under his head and relaxed into the attention with a smile. Mulder's hands continued their manipulation of his back, working out the remaining tension and replacing it with a sensuous warmth. The slow, firm massage moved down to his ass and Mulder's fingers dug into the tight flesh, smoothing on the lightly scented lotion. His thumbs slid between the firm cheeks and brushed across the puckered opening gently, then more firmly until Walter's hips pushed up automatically in response.

Mulder chuckled softly and his hands continued their journey down the backs of Walter's thighs to the muscled calves and finally to the feet. He gave each muscle the same, careful attention. He worked carefully across the soles of the feet, stretching each toe and rolling it gently between his fingers. By the time he told his lover to turn over, Walter was limp with pleasure. Almost. He caught Mulder's quick upward glance at his growing erection calmly.

Walter put his arms back behind his head and contemplated Mulder's intent face. "You're getting better at this. Last time you gave in after fifteen minutes."

"And whose fault was that?" Mulder grinned, his concentration never wavering as he worked his way back up the long legs.

"I never said a word," Walter observed virtuously.

"The way you were moving, you didn't have to," Mulder said reminiscently.

They shared a quick smile as Mulder's hands finally reached his lover's hips. Walter's body quivered in anticipation as the other man paused for another handful of the silky lotion. Mulder spread the cream across his hips and stomach and worked it into the skin slowly, rubbing from the tight curls at the base of Walter's erection outward and upward through the line of dark hair arrowing up to the tight navel and lingering around the strong waist. Never once did his fingers brush the erect cock begging for attention.

"Mulder . . . ." Walter's voice trailed off as his lover shook his head with a grin and moved his attention up to the dark nipples standing erect on the broad chest.

"This is my reward," the younger man said huskily.

"Yours?" Walter shook his head. "You lost the game," he reminded.

Mulder shifted his position up to allow him to reach the older man's chest and arms. This time he made no attempt to avoid Walter's cock, brushing his own erection against it slowly and making both men shiver with anticipation.

"But I won the prize," he said softly.

Walter cupped the younger man's face in one large hand. "I'm glad you think so."

Mulder brushed a kiss against his lips and lowered his head to trail a line of moist kisses across his neck. Mulder's erection continued to brush against his and Walter could smell the sharp odor of his arousal, mixing with the light scent of the lotion and both men's sweat. His body was being assaulted from all directions and the stimulation was beginning to overwhelm his assumed calm.

"Mulder . . . ." he pleaded softly.

His lover looked down at him seriously, then leaned down for a slow, deep kiss. He moved until he was laying across his lover's body, rubbing their hips together invitingly. Before Walter could really enjoy the sensation, Mulder was moving back down his body, this time blazing a path of soft, wet kisses against his skin. In seconds his mouth closed over the head of Walter's cock and the older man bucked involuntarily against the quick, hot suction. Again Mulder stopped before he could adjust to the sensation. Walter cursed softly, earning a soft laugh from his lover.

"Patience, Walter," he teased softly. One slick finger probed between his lover's legs, then centered and slid inside the hidden opening. Their gazes locked and Walter watched Mulder's eyes darken pleasure as he enjoyed the older man's reaction to the second and third fingers that quickly joined the first. Leaning down, Mulder started caressing the anxious cock bobbing in front of his face, lavishing slow, wet licks from the base to the head in time with the movement of his hand. After a few seconds of this treatment, Walter was arching against his mouth and moaning softly.

Suddenly Mulder slid his hand out and replaced it with his hard cock, pushing in slowly and relentlessly. He waited a moment, prolonging the anticipation for both of them, then moved back into the same teasing rhythm, with one hand on Walter's erection, the other stroking his chest

Walter started moving faster and Mulder responded instantly, following the faster rhythm he was setting. They were both close, too close to want to wait any longer. Mulder's hand on him, finally giving him the constant, satisfying pressure he had craved quickly took Walter over the edge. Mulder, shaking with the restraint he had imposed on both of them, followed him a few seconds later, shuddering as the pleasure poured out of him.

Finally, Mulder sighed heavily and separated their bodies carefully. Rolling over, Walter gathered him close for a warm, satisfied kiss. Mulder curled up into his usual position against one broad shoulder.

"Walter?"

"Hmmm?"

"About Uncle Gnomie . . ."

"Enough, Mulder."

"I just thought you should be warned before . . . ."

"Before what?"

Mulder chuckled quietly. "Before you visit your balcony tomorrow morning."

"Oh, god." The blissful haze of satiation ebbed slowly.

Finally, Mulder nuzzled his lover's neck and mumbled, "Better?"

"Mmm . . ." Walter agreed. "I may survive another day."

Mulder nodded. "Me, too."

"What went wrong with your day?" Walter asked incuriously. He didn't really want to think about the office.

"Looked for you all day." Mulder mumbled sleepily. "Couldn't find you . . . . "

Walter felt an unexpected rush of warmth. "Did you need something?"

Mulder shook his head and yawned. "Just you." A few seconds later his breathing evened out and he was asleep.

Walter lay there for a while, holding his lover gently. Just you. The words echoed in his mind and a small smile curved his lips as he allowed sleep to claim him as well. 

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The End.