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Disclaimers: Walter Skinner and Fox Mulder are the property of Ten Thirteen Productions. They don't belong to me, and I'm ashamed of myself for taking advantage of the anonymity of the 'net to write naughty stories about them.

Apologies: Mrs. Tyler and her son are the products of my own warped imagination. I have no idea where they came from, but I'm sorry I'm inflicting them on you.

Author: AnneZo @ fastmail.fm

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Mulder yawned and rubbed his face, a slight frown disappearing as he recognized his unfamiliar surroundings. "Hey." He rolled closer.

Rough stubble of beard was still a strange sensation in the morning. "Yeah?" He'd hoped for more of a clue about Mulder's mood than he was getting. Walter knew he needed to stop second-guessing every move that the other man made. Taking things for granted was what had gone wrong with his marriage, but it was possible to go too far the other way.

"Ready to face the day?" Mulder looked reluctantly at the ticking clock.

"As ready as I'm going to be." Walter pulled him close for a hug.

Mulder's smile lit up the room. "Good morning."

"Sleep well?" Walter watched his lover's face, the flush of sleep disappearing as Mulder gathered his energy for the day.

"Never better." Mulder gave him a kiss, then slipped out of bed quickly, looking a little embarrassed. "Up and at 'em. We have a schedule to keep."

"You do, you mean." Walter stretched slowly. "That is, if you want to get through the rest of the winter without pneumonia."

"Stop complaining." Mulder gave him a quick grin. "That broken heater had its uses."

"You planning to use that particular ploy again?"

Mulder shot him a glance, then started gathering his clothes together. "I don't know. Am I going to need it?"

"Would you like a word of advice?" Walter was careful to keep the smile from his face as he made the offer.

"I don't know." Mulder looked wary. "What?"

There was a hint of...worry, maybe uncertainty in Mulder's eyes that wasn't what Walter had expected. Again he found himself wondering from where Mulder had gotten the courage to approach Walter in the first place. One on level, the more time they spent together, the more Walter came to feel that what had happened between them had been inevitable. And yet...there were so many problems they would face, so many complications.

"Forget it." He rolled out of bed. "I've been out of circulation for too long. If you want to grab a shower, I'll start the coffee."

Mulder hesitated, then shrugged. "Sounds great. I can get breakfast while you shower."

"Did you want to go for a run, first?" Walter hadn't forgotten Mulder's all-but religious devotion to his daily run.

Mulder shook his head. "Not this morning. I'm feeling lazy."

Showers. Breakfast. It was all casual, but there was an underlying tension that Walter couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the empty day stretching out before them. Unlike their previous...dates?...encounters?...they didn't have a timetable or a schedule to keep. There was just the day, or the weekend, Walter realized, stretching out before them. He couldn't deny that the thought was a little unsettling.

Mulder made quite a production out of dropping his car off at the shop, spending what seemed to be a ridiculous amount of time talking to the mechanic while Walter waited in his own car.

"I told him I needed it to feel like a tropical garden in there by the time I pick it up." Mulder fastened his seatbelt, grinning at Walter.

Walter had a mental picture of Mulder's car filled with armloads of exotic hothouse blossoms.

"What's so funny?" Mulder looked at him curiously, making Walter aware his own smile.

"Do you have hay fever?"

"Not that I know of. Does this have anything to do with the heater?"

"Forget it." Walter refused to explain. The thought had been absurd and the only thing sillier would be trying to explain it.

Their next stop was a trip to the grocery store to stock up on a few necessities. He and Mulder didn't talk much but they didn't need to. Mulder stayed close when they were alone, sometimes touching Walter's arm or his shoulder but never in such a way that anyone watching would notice anything unusual. As they walked through the store, he kept his distance, but there was a warmth behind the smile in his eyes that Walter knew was for him.

A hardware store nearby pulled them both in and they wandered up and down the aisles with the suppressed glee of two overgrown teenagers. There were times Walter missed these things. Although his job had left him little time in the past few years for it, his workshop at the house had been his pride and joy. He still had the tools, crated up and stored against the day when he'd have a place for them again.

Mulder distracted him from these morbid thoughts by picking up a circular saw from a prominent display and waving it around. He looked intent, absorbed in whatever he was considering.

"You planning to build a house?" Walter stayed out of reach, not certain that Mulder remembered his presence.

"This would make a great weapon." Mulder laid back on the table. "Most of these saws would, don't you think?"

"Jesus, Mulder." Walter gave him a look. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"Not really," Mulder said absently. He fingered a display of drill bits, holding several of them up and examining the points closely.

"If you're wondering what kind of damage you could do with one of those..." Walter threatened.

"No." Mulder dropped the bits back into the bins and grinned at him. "That time I was thinking about building a house."

"In that case, those are the wrong size." Walter nudged Mulder toward the door. "Let's get out of here before you start attracting attention."

"What?" Mulder protested. "It's a hardware store? You think they don't expect people to play with their toys?"

"From the way the guy behind the counter looked when you started waving around that saw, they were one step from taking your description and my license plate number," Walter claimed.

"I'm sure he's seen weirder things," Mulder complained. He gave up the argument. "Hey, I need to go in here, okay?"

Walter eyed the store suspiciously. "You're telling me you fish?"

"Do I have time for vacations?" Mulder opened the door and urged Walter in. "I have to pick up some stuff for some friends, that's all."

"Birthday?"

"No." Mulder headed toward the back of the store purposefully. "Just...some stuff they need."

"For what?" Walter watched his companion poke through a selection of fishing weights, selecting a handful of the largest. He couldn't imagine.... He decided not to try.

"You don't want to know," Mulder assured him.

That was probably true. Walter gave up since it was obvious that Mulder had no intention of explaining himself.

Walter followed Mulder into a fabric store (not happily) and watched him buy a handful of their largest needles, then into a framing shop where Mulder picked up enough picture hangers to last any normal human being a lifetime. All without asking questions he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers to.

They managed to keep busy until it was time to pick up Mulder's car. Walter dropped his lover off at the service station, then detoured for one quick stop of his own.

Stopping by the office was a mistake. Walter knew it the instant he spotted her in the parking garage. His first impulse was to slink back into the shadows next to his car, then he hoped she hadn't noticed the instinctive withdrawal.

Certainly neither Mrs. Tyler's smile nor her exuberant greeting indicated that she noticed anything unusual.

"Mr. Skinner!" She scurried over the pavement toward him. "Surely you're not working? And on such a beautiful day."

Walter managed a polite smile. "I'm just picking up some papers, Mrs. Tyler." He pulled himself together, squashing his sense of panic. "Are you working?"

"Oh, dear, no." Her eyes blinked rapidly behind the colorless glasses she wore. "I'm afraid I left my shopping list at my desk yesterday. We just stopped by to pick it up."

We? Before Walter could decide whether or not to ask, the question was answered. He spotted him out of the corner of his eye first, then turned his head to watch in surprise as the young man strolled over to stand next to Mrs. Tyler. A self-confident smile wrapped itself across the newcomer's face as Walter's quick glance took in the tightly-muscled body, tee shirt clinging to the broad chest and a pair of faded jeans that hugged the young man's thighs.

"Mr. Skinner, I'd like you to meet my Jimmy." The woman's doting voice broke into his momentary distraction.

"Good afternoon, sir." Strong fingers wrapped around Walter's hand as the young man stepped forward. "I'm delighted to meet you, sir. I've heard a great deal about you." Jimmy's gaze skimmed Walter's body. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Walter freed his hand quickly. "Nice to meet you," he said gruffly.

The three of them stood there in silence for a moment, and Walter wondered what else he should be saying. His composure, shaken by the unexpected meeting and by Jimmy's quiet, but unmistakable signal of interest, dropped back over him. He straightened his shoulders, trying not to notice the gleam of approval in the young man's eyes, and turned back to the woman standing next to them.

"Have a nice day." Dumb, but it was the only thing that sprang to mind. "I need to be getting up to my office." His office. His sanctuary. He stepped back and offered an insincere smile.

"Mr. Skinner." She stopped him before he could take another step. "If you have a few minutes, I know Jimmy would like to talk to you." Her eyes lingered on the boy's face, obviously unaware of the tension between the two men. "He's been thinking of applying to the Academy, haven't you dear?"

"Yes, I have." Walter would have bet that no such thought had occurred to the young man, but Jimmy was quick to take advantage of the suggestion. "If you have some time, sir, I'd appreciate any words of advice you could give me."

It was time to put a stop to this. "Mrs. Tyler," he said firmly. "The Bureau has a very well-staffed personnel department to answer any questions your son might have." He offered them both an impersonal smile. "If your son is really considering a career with the Bureau, the best advice I can give you is to talk with them. They'll have all the answers you need."

"Not all the answers," Jimmy murmured provocatively. He peered up at Walter through his lashes in a shamelessly flirtatious gesture. "I'm sure you could offer . . . more than their canned information packets and rehearsed speeches. Sir." His voice lingered over the last word. "What I'd really like is to hear your perspective. To know what it's like from the inside. So to speak."

"Just a few minutes, Mr. Skinner," Mrs. Tyler coaxed. Her eyes brightened in the uneven light. "Why don't you let us buy you some lunch and you and Jimmy can talk. It's such an important decision. I'd really like for him to have the best advice before he makes such a big step.

The quick pout that flashed over Jimmy's face was proof that this wasn't quite what he'd had in mind. "If you're busy right now, Mr. Skinner, you and I could meet later." He moved a half-step closer to Walter, invading the older man's personal space casually. "I could buy you dinner. Or a drink, if you'd rather."

"You're not old enough to drink," Walter objected. He took a deep breath. "In any case, the advice that anyone would give you would be to finish college first, before you make your decision." He started to step back again and was dismayed to feel the base of a concrete support post at his back. The feeling of being trapped was, he was sure, completely out of proportion to the situation. "In the meantime, I do have some work I need to do, so if you'll excuse me . . . ."

"Oh, but Mr. Skinner." It was like watching tag-team wrestling. He had an uneasy feeling that these two were big fans of the so-called sport. Mrs. Tyler stepped forward, blocking his escape. "Surely just a few minutes. After all, you must be planning to eat lunch at some time."

"Good afternoon, sir." Walter hadn't heard the man's approach, but he couldn't think of another time in his life he'd been so glad to hear someone's voice. Mulder stopped beside him and nodded politely, his eyes wandering to Jimmy's face.

"Good afternoon, Agent Mulder." The sense of panic evaporated and Walter felt himself wondering what Mulder would make of this situation. "I'm sure you know Mrs. Tyler." He motioned to the young man standing in front of him. "And this is her son. Jimmy." He wasn't sure why he was making the introductions. On the other hand, the woman's unfriendly stare in Mulder's direction indicated that she wasn't thinking of the amenities at the moment.

It was probably just as well that she couldn't see the expression on her son's face. "Very nice to meet you, Mr. Mulder." Jimmy gave Mulder a polite smile but he held onto his position in front of Skinner.

"Nice to meet you," Mulder offered. Walter didn't think about the undercurrent of amusement in the smooth voice. Mulder's face was carefully expressionless. "Sir? Do you have a few minutes?"

An instant before Walter was able to accept this escape line, he remembered Mrs. Tyler's insistent invitations. "I just stopped by to pick up a few papers," he said awkwardly. "Is it important, Agent Mulder?"

"Yes, sir." Mulder motioned toward the elevator. "It will just take a few minutes. Why don't I walk with you to your office?"

"Very well, Agent Mulder." Walter turned to the waiting couple with relief. "Enjoy your weekend."

"Agent Mulder." It was Jimmy that stopped their retreat.

"Yes?" Mulder hesitated and glanced over his shoulder at the young man.

"Are you busy this afternoon?" Jimmy abandoned subtlety in favor of the direct approach. "I'd like to talk to you if you have some time available."

"Talk to me?" Mulder looked the question at Walter.

"His mother says he's interested in joining the Bureau," Walter offered, straight-faced. "He has been asking some questions about what the work is like. From the inside."

"I see." Mulder's eyes sparkled for a second, then he looked back at Jimmy. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen, Agent Mulder." Jimmy looked from one to the other of the two men, a hint something that wasn't quite suspicion in his eyes. "I'd really like to spend some time talking with you." He gave Walter a side-long glance. "With either of you. I'm sure I'd find it helpful."

"The best advice I can give you is to enroll in college." Mulder couldn't know he was echoing Walter's previous remarks. "After you graduate, if you still feel the same way, contact the Bureau. They'll have all the information you need." He nodded politely to Mrs. Tyler. "And now, I'm sorry, but I do need to speak to Assistant Director Skinner on a rather urgent matter. If you'll excuse us...."

He nodded toward the elevator and Walter followed him meekly, surprised by how easily Mulder had been able to free them from the uncomfortable situation. It was annoying to remember his own awkward attempts to pry himself away from his two unwanted questioners.

"That was slick." To his relief, the Tylers didn't follow them onto the elevator.

"I saw you turn in here," Mulder explained. "I wondered what you were up to."

Walter hadn't expected that making a quick side-trip would have involved so much explanation. "I just stopped by for a minute to pick up some papers." The necessity of explaining himself was almost irritating.

"I see." Mulder pushed the button and the elevator started to rise. "I don't quite think your Jimmy is Bureau material, do you?"

"He's not 'my' Jimmy," Walter said coldly. "And I see no reason why the young man couldn't join the Bureau in a few years. If he's still interested."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be interested."

Walter could feel Mulder's grin, but he refused to look. "Very well, then." The elevator chimed off the floors musically.

"You're pompous when you're nervous, you know that?" Mulder leaned against the railing on the wall. "He'll probably be a little less obvious by then, you're right."

"The Bureau has anti-discrimination policies in place," Walter pointed out, ignoring the insult.

"I'm sure he'll take full advantage of them," Mulder said dryly. "After all, it's a don't ask, don't tell world, isn't it?"

"Do you object to that policy, Agent Mulder?" Walter wasn't sure how they'd gotten to this conversation. Mulder was either baiting him, or he was trying to say something, Walter wasn't sure.

"Not at all," Mulder said cheerfully. "In fact, I'd like to see it in wider use. I think it should apply to everyone, you know?"

Walter was surprised. "What?"

"I think there should be a general prohibition against anyone sharing their private lives at the office." The elevator bounced to a gentle stop and Mulder followed Walter into the hallway.

"In what way?" Walter asked suspiciously.

"Like, the other day I'm riding that very same elevator and these three women get on," Mulder explained. "Apparently they were under the impression that I was deaf, or that I didn't speak English. They shared the intimate details of their childbirth experiences, complete with medical terminology and a truly appalling list of potential complications they'd each avoided by what they seemed to feel was the slimmest of margins."

He dropped into a chair in Walter's office and stretched out his legs. "I learned things about childbirth that I could happily have gone to my grave without knowing," he brooded. He grinned at Walter. "You tell me if you think that's an appropriate way for staff members to spend government time."

Walter left the question unanswered. He sorted through the papers on his desk, locating the two files he'd forgotten the night before. "Did you stop by the office for a reason, or are you ready to go?"

"It was my pleasure to rescue you," Mulder said pointedly, shoving himself to his feet.

"I get it, Mulder." Walter followed him out the door, making sure the door locked after them. "Do you want lunch or do you want to go...home?" He didn't want to be more specific, even though there was no reason to believe that any sound recording was done in the building.

"You buying?" Mulder's shoulder brushed his briefly as they walked down the hall.

"Yes." Walter hit the elevator button and the door opened. That was one good thing about working weekends, you never had to wait for the elevator. "What do you want?"

"Green Bay is playing this afternoon," Mulder offered. "We could pick something upon the way...."

"Pizza?" Walter didn't expect an objection. Among the other rumors floating around the Bureau was one that the agent practically lived on cold pizza. Walter had no idea how this one had started, no one with Mulder's dedication to fitness would abuse their body that way.

"Supreme," Mulder suggested hopefully. "Deep dish. Extra cheese."

"No pepperoni," Walter objected.

"Pizza without pepperoni is practically un-American," Mulder protested. "You can take it off."

"Order half without pepperoni," Walter told him calmly. "That way I have a better chance of actually getting a few pieces."

Mulder followed him off the elevator. "Very funny. You want me to pick it up?"

Walter remembered they had both cars. "Okay. I'll...see you at my place," he said cautiously.

"Right." Mulder waved and headed off toward his car. Walter was appalled to see that Mrs. Tyler's car was still in the lot. He found himself hurrying toward his own car, praying that the elevator behind him wouldn't open.

Close, but not close enough. Walter heard someone calling him from across the garage. He turned and spotted Jimmy sprinting toward him.

"May I help you?" He sorted through the keys in his hand and unlocked his car, hoping to discourage the young man.

A car rumbled past them. Mulder honked and waved to the two of them, then drove out of sight. Walter swore to himself at the sight of Mulder's grin and again when the agent didn't stop.

"I just wanted to say, again, that it was great to meet you." Jimmy's eyes sparkled and Walter surprised himself by wishing this time that the elevator door would open and disgorge Jimmy's mother.

"It was a pleasure to meet you," he said quickly. "I'm afraid I really do have to be going."

"I understand, sir." Jimmy forced a piece of paper into Walter's hand. "If you change your mind, if you have some time to talk with me one of these days, why don't you give me a call?"

Walter tried to refuse the offer. "I don't really have any other...."

"I understand." Jimmy waved Walter off and gave him an understanding look. "It's my private number. My mother doesn't answer it." He backed off. "Think about it," he urged.

Before Walter could say anything else, Jimmy returned to his position leaning against his mother's car. Ignoring the young man's wave, Walter slid inside his car and backed out of the parking space.

He was going to have to do something about that woman. The thought stayed with him all the way home. Walter wasn't worried about Jimmy. He could ignore the boy easily enough, but he had to face the danger of running into the mother any day in the office. This is beyond ridiculous.

With any luck, Mulder would have a sensible suggestion. He'd managed to extricate the two of them from the unwelcome company of both Tylers easily enough earlier. He might have an idea that would free Walter from the entire situation. If not....Walter didn't want to think about it. According to Mulder, Mrs. Tyler's interest in him was already obvious to a large portion of the staff. If things got any worse....

He spent the time it took to put away the groceries resolutely not thinking about it. They had the rest of the weekend, as soon as Mulder got back with the pizza, and Walter didn't intend to let anything spoil it. However they'd gotten here, he and the other man seemed to be making progress toward...something that was more than just casual sex. Walter wasn't prepared to give it a name yet.

He settled down at the small desk and opened one of the files he'd retrieved from his office and stared at it blindly. Who was he fooling? Not himself. Work was the farthest thing from his mind. The incident at the office replayed itself in his mind, including the odd look that Jimmy had given him and Mulder. Walter knew there wasn't any way the young man could have known...could have suspected. There wasn't any reason for concern. Rationally, Walter knew that. But his gut was telling him something else.

He checked the clock. Where in the hell is he? How long did it take to pick up a pizza?

He didn't quite have time to pace himself into a nervous sweat before the doorbell rang.

"Hey." Mulder grinned and sidestepped him, holding the greasy cardboard box away from his shirt. "I'd better set this down before I drop it."

"Is it still hot?" Walter led the way to the kitchen. He dragged out a towel they could use to cushion the bottom of the steaming carton and Mulder put the box on it with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

"I didn't figure you for the cold pizza type." Mulder started scrounging in the cabinets. "I broke about fifteen traffic laws getting it here while it was still hot."

"I've eaten my share of cold pizza," Walter objected mildly. "What took you so long?"

Mulder shot him a glance. "I stopped by my place to pick up some clean clothes." He nodded toward a bag he had dropped by the door.

Walter felt a twinge of uneasiness at Mulder's assumption he'd be staying the night again. It might be wiser...he would rather...what? It was absurd to think of Mulder waiting to be asked politely as though they were two teenagers on a date. And even more absurd to face the rest of the long weekend alone just because of a look from a horny teenager. "Good idea."

"You been working on the stuff you picked up at the office?" Mulder glanced at the papers laying out on the desk as they walked back into the living room with loaded plates.

"I looked at a few things, I haven't really gotten into any of it." The awkward scene in the garage flashed through Walter's head again.

"Listen, if you need to work, go ahead. I can amuse myself or," Mulder shot him a look. "I can leave you in peace."

Walter's doubt about whether or not Mulder should assume he was welcome to stay disappeared. Over the past year, carrying work home with him had become a habit. A way to fill some of the long evenings alone. He had stopped automatically that afternoon, not considering what it might look like to Mulder. "Don't worry about it, it wasn't anything that urgent."

Of course, Mulder might have changed his mind, might be making an excuse to leave. The idea occurred to Walter an instant before he remembered the overnight bag. No, it's not that. The more Walter tried to second-guess Mulder, the more he confused himself. He cleared his mind. If there was a problem, it would come out. Otherwise....

Mulder flipped on the television. "Just a habit, right?" he said with uncanny accuracy. He nodded. I do the same thing sometimes. Carry the stuff around with me even when I know I'm not going to have the time to work on it."

Walter was relieved. "It does get to be a habit. Anyhow, I have a lot more time than I used to, and I get quite a bit done some evenings." Jesus. That sounded pathetic.

Mulder grinned around a mouthful of pizza. "Looks like that might be changing, though."

Another second of panic, things were moving too fast. "What do you mean?" Walter wasn't sure he was ready to deal with the implication of that statement. Mulder always seemed to be three miles ahead of him, unaware of the potential problems and of Walter's unanswered questions.

"Your fan club seems to be growing." There was a flash of something...possessiveness? Jealousy? It was gone before Walter could be sure he'd even seen it.

Oh. Walter had thought.... "Leave it alone, Mulder," he warned, half-seriously. A little harmless teasing on the subject of the Tyler family was obviously on the menu, along with the pizza. No doubt Mulder had been looking forward to this for the past hour.

"You're going to have to stop pretending this isn't a problem," Mulder pointed out. His plate hit the coffee table a little harder than necessary and Walter winced. "Isn't there something you usually do about these things?"

Obviously, Walter had miscalculated again. "As flattering as the assumption that I have a constant problem with the female members of the Bureau staff and their offspring, that isn't quite the case." He helped himself to more pizza. "What do you usually do?" he asked curiously.

"Ditto." Mulder grinned at Walter's skeptical glance. "It's amazing how few of our husband-hunting coworkers see Spooky Mulder as an ideal candidate for the suburbs."

Walter didn't miss the faint bitterness in Mulder's voice, or the overly casual use of the nickname, but he wasn't certain what to do about it. "If it wasn't for several years of accumulated evidence to the contrary, I might be tempted to assume cause and effect." He picked up the remote control and turned up the sound on the set. The pre-game show was ending.

Mulder laughed. "That's it. It's all been a front to shelter me from hordes of prospective female admirers."

"It would explain a lot."

"Another X-File, successfully solved." Mulder leaned back and started eating, his eyes fixed on the television screen.

Conversation was minimal during the game and mostly involved friendly arguments about Mulder's assumption that the underdog Packers were getting more than their share of bad calls. At half-time, he cleared up the lunch mess, leaving Walter to glance through the newspaper they hadn't had time to read that morning.

Once again, Walter was pleasantly surprised by how easy Mulder was to be with. Outside the office, Mulder seemed to have no ambition beyond some casual conversation and a close-fought football game.

As soon as the first game ended, Walter switched channels to where the Redskins game was just getting started. For a moment, he found himself comparing an afternoon spent watching football, to the way his weekends had been spent when he was married. There was nothing to be gained from that kind of comparison.

Eventually, Walter pried himself off the couch and went in to get the steaks ready to broil.

Dinner was eaten and the debris cleaned up in the same casual atmosphere. Walter had completely forgotten his own earlier tension by the time Mulder finally switched off the television set later that evening.

"The moment of truth." Mulder tossed the remote onto the coffee table and leaned back against the cushions, watching Walter through narrowed eyes..

" Meaning?" Walter didn't move.

"Such a domestic little scene," Mulder mocked gently. "All we need is a cat to put out for the night...."

"I don't think you're in any danger of being mistaken for the domestic type." Walter felt a pleasant tension in his gut

"Maybe I should give it a try. Sometimes it can simplify things."

"Such as?"

"Like now." Mulder eyed him thoughtfully. "There's the question of how to get from here to where we both know we're going. Who moves first. What to do."

Walter was aware of an awkwardness for the first time in hours. The atmosphere had been so comfortable he hadn't thought ahead. "Any suggestions?"

"We could sort of meet in the middle." Mulder offered.

Walter didn't move. "We could."

Mulder shifted until he was facing Walter. "It's like you have no problem chewing me out and casting doubts on my sanity and commitment in front of half the Bureau, but you can't decide whether or not you're allowed to kiss me without a formal invitation," he challenged.

Walter ignored the complaint, it wasn't true and they both knew it. Besides, it was just a smoke screen for what was between them now. For the first time, he could sense nervousness from Mulder. "And, your problem would be...."

"I know....Would you believe I find you intimidating?"

"No."

"Maybe I'm just not the aggressive type." Mulder almost managed to keep from grinning as he offered the suggestion.

"Maybe you should stop trying to complicate the one thing about this situation that wasn't already complicated."

"You're right." Mulder looked embarrassed. "Occupational hazard or something I guess."

Walter bit back the obvious remark and allowed himself a small smile as Mulder slid across the couch toward him. He waited until Mulder had an arm around him before he responded.

They both leaned into the kiss which was oddly tentative. Walter found himself wondering if Mulder really was hesitant to make the first move. It was out of character for the Mulder he had come to know. On the other hand, maybe there was a problem Walter wasn't aware of.

A few minutes later, he wasn't worried about the possibility at all. Stretched out on the couch with Mulder's weight pressing him firmly into the heavy cushions, and Mulder's hands pulling his clothes off, Walter's only thought was for how to keep the two of them from falling off the couch without allowing Mulder to stop anything he was currently doing.

Mulder licked Walter's ear and laughed quietly "I'm starting to feel a lot more aggressive all of a sudden."

"I noticed that." Walter slid his hands around Mulder's hips, arching up into him for a second. "You seem to have solved that intimidation problem as well."

Walter could hear the smile in Mulder's voice. A warm mouth started working down the curve of Walter's neck to the shoulder. "Don't remind me...."

"Did you have any particular plans?" Walter bit back a moan as his lover's mouth lingered on one sensitive spot.

"I would have thought that was obvious at this point." Mulder's hips pushed against his for a moment. "Wouldn't you?"

"I was just wondering exactly how aggressive you're feeling," Walter suggested.

Mulder looked at him sharply, then gave him a slow smile. Buttons, snaps, zippers, Mulder unfastened everything he touched and branded Walter's skin with his mouth. His hands and mouth moved against Walter eagerly, exploring the bared flesh.

Walter gave up on trying to return the caresses, focusing on the intense pleasure he was receiving. His body arched and twisted against Mulder's mouth, inviting more. He moaned as the wet tongue was alternated with gentle nips and Mulder's hands stroking and rubbing his hardness.

It was a shock when the warmth disappeared. Mulder rolled off the couch and onto his feet. He held one hand out to Walter. "Bed." It sounded like an order.

Walter started to object to the abandonment, then smiled and took Mulder's hand and pulled himself up. "Want to bring your stuff?" He nodded toward Mulder's bag still sitting by door.

"This is no time to be practical, Walter." The hand on Walter's waist slid down and around curve of Walter's hip, then back up to his waist. "I don't want all that work wasted."

Walter couldn't resist teasing, seeing the grin on the other man's face. "Planning to sweep me off my feet?"

Mulder eyed him thoughtfully, then looked at the stairs and back at Walter's heavy frame. "I might be able to manage it, but something tells me it's going to spoil the mood if I throw my back out."

He guided Walter toward the stairs, flipping the lights off as they moved through the room.

"I'll give you a rain check," Walter suggested. "You can go into training."

"How long you had these Scarlett O'Hara fantasies?" Mulder followed him up the stairs, one hand still resting warmly against Walter's hip. "And is there anything else I should know before we go on? "

"It's a little late for second thoughts." Walter led the way to the bedroom. "You'll just have to wait and see."

Mulder came up behind him and slid his arms around Walter's waist. " I'm looking forward to it."

They managed to get out of the rest of their clothes and onto the bed without falling down. After that, there was nothing but an endless interval of pleasure--touching, tasting, quiet moans of encouragement. Walter's earlier doubts and questions disappeared into the feeling of rightness that swept over him as knowing fingers found and exploited sensitive nerves, as a hot wetness closed around him suckling and lapping until his fingers tangled almost painfully in Mulder's hair and his hips thrust mindlessly into the suction.

Mulder moved up and rolled on top of Walter, then began thrusting against him, letting his erection rub against the other man's in a slow, seductive rhythm.

Walter's hands explored the exposed territory, sliding down the length of Mulder's back and enjoying the touch of the smooth, firm skin. Reaching Mulder's hips, Walter closed his fingers around each firm cheek. He pulled the slender hips closer and began rubbing himself against the hardness of Mulder's erection. "Make love to me." He hadn't planned to say it, and certainly not in those words, but they were out before he thought.

"Yes." Mulder's instant response trickled along his spine like liquid lightning, curling around his hips and flooding an unfamiliar hot wave of desire through Walter.

They reached for the drawer in the bedside table at the same moment, then Mulder pushed Walter's hand away. He retrieved the lubricant, pouring it onto his fingers. Walter moaned as the still-cool liquid was spread against his skin, then one impatient finger slid into him. He spread his legs and tried to relax.

"Sorry," Mulder murmured. His hand stilled.

"Don't stop." The look in Mulder's eyes wiped away the momentary pain and Walter pushed against his hand. "Do it."

Mulder's fingers slid in and out of him, stretching, stroking, teasing. Walter pulled the other man down for a kiss, feeling his body relax to accept the invasion.

He heard Mulder's moan, almost muffled in the kiss, then the fingers disappeared and the other man rolled onto him. Wrapped in each other's arms, the two men moved, rubbing their bodies together, hands and mouths exploring every inch of skin they could reach.

Walter's back arched, his hips thrusting against Mulder's insistently. "Mulder...."

"Yes." Somewhere between a moan and a prayer. He could feel the other man fighting for control as he slid into Walter's body. A few slow strokes, both of them gasping at the sensation. Mulder's hands twisted into the pillow by Walter's head, his hips began thrusting faster and harder. "Don't let me hurt you," Mulder gasped.

Walter pulled his head down and kissed the other man passionately. The hunger in Mulder's eyes, the shocking pleasure of Mulder moving inside of him, were eroding Walter's own control. He could feel the inevitable climax coming closer and closer, every thrust of Mulder's hips pushing the two of them to new heights.

At last it was too much. Walter's hands fumbled, then closed around his own erection. He stroked himself, all thoughts of prolonging the pleasure at an end in the face of the overwhelming need he was feeling. Seconds later the sharp crest of his orgasm poured over him.

When Mulder collapses on top of him, Walter's arms automatically wrapped around his lover's shoulders. His pleasure-drugged gaze identified the sated, possessive smile curving Mulder's mouth. It seemed worthy of some kind of comment, but the haze of pleasure fogging Walter's brain didn't offer anything appropriate.

They shifted position, still holding each other, and Walter heard Mulder's breathing slip almost instantly into sleep. Moments later, Walter let his own eyes slide closed. It didn't, after all, seem to require anything more than that.

****

The end.