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Insert the usual disclaimers here. Everyone mentioned in the story is the property of someone official at Ten Thirteen Productions and I don't have any business writing about them without permission. I can assure everyone that I'm not making any money from this. Also, Mr. Collins has no idea I've appropriated his song title and a teeny bit of his lyrics without permission. Please don't tell him.

This story involves m/m sex - specifically Mulder/Skinner. But then, I imagine you knew that or you wouldn't be here. It's a bit naughty, so if you don't like this kind of thing and you're surprised to hear about it, you'd better go away now. It's not very graphic. This was my first XF story.

Honesty impels me to mention that co-authoring credit on this one goes to the incomparable Ethan Nelson, without whom the story would be about ten paragraphs long and reasonably boring. The awful bits are guaranteed to be mine.

Author: AnneZo @ fastmail . fm

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Even as the thought crossed his mind, he heard an engine and the sound of a car pulling into the open garage. He pulled open the door that led to the garage, not even trying to hide the gun in his hand. If this wasn't his two overdue agents, then whoever was in the car was going to have to talk fast.

Luck was with him. Mulder slid out from behind the wheel while Scully helped the prisoner from the cramped back seat.

"Good evening, sir." Mulder smiled at him oddly, his eyes flickering to the gun the AD was still holding. "Is that for us?"

"Where the hell have you been? You were due here over 40 minutes ago."

"We had to make a stop."

"What for? Bigfoot?"

The two men had been speaking quietly enough to prevent the prisoner from hearing but Scully seemed to see what was happening.

"I'm sorry we're late, sir," she said, escorting the woman in handcuffs past her boss and into the kitchen. "Ms. Billings," she indicated the sullen woman, "felt unwell and I thought it was best to stop and give her a chance to rest." Skinner watched as Scully guided her to the restroom. She had been arrested on charges of terrorism and was turning state's evidence in exchange for a suspended sentence. A foul-up in communications had made her safety his problem temporarily.

"Is there something wrong with your cell-phone, Agent Mulder," he asked dangerously.

"No, sir."

"Then may I ask why, when you fell behind schedule, you didn't call?"

"I didn't think you'd notice, sir."

"Agent Mulder, the Bureau has seen fit to send two highly-qualified agents on this baby-sitting detail. This might have give you a clue that there are some very important people interested in what happens to our guest."

"Yes, sir," the agent answered quietly.

"The next time, Agent Mulder, you might try thinking of these things."

"Yes, sir."

He knew that neither agent was pleased at being handed this job but they had been the only two available when the assignment had come up. In fact, he wasn't too pleased to be here himself. Overseeing two extremely competent agents while they completed a routine safe-house stay wasn't exactly his cup of tea. Scully returned with the Billings woman and they joined the two men in the kitchen.

"Have you eaten, Ms. Billings," he asked politely.

"I'm not hungry," she mumbled.

Looking at her flushed face, Skinner realized that she really was unwell. He looked at Scully inquiringly.

"I believe that Ms. Billings has the flu, sir," she explained. "She should be fine in a few days."

He gave Scully a quick tour of the house. They agreed that only the sofa bed in the living room offered enough security for the prisoner. Scully would take the nearby single bedroom which possessed a door to the back deck.

The two men remained in the kitchen as Scully and the woman settled in for the night. Scully intended to handcuff the prisoner to the bed and Skinner was forced to approve of the idea. In spite of everything, there were still charges pending against Billings and they were expected to keep her both safe and in custody.

As the two men waited, Mulder searched the refrigerator for a quick meal, finding cold chicken, potato salad, and ice cream.

"Tell me, Assistant Director Skinner, how long has it been since you've been on a field assignment?" There was still an odd smile in his eyes as he joined his boss at the small table.

"You know exactly how long it's been." Skinner shifted, wondering what was in the agent's mind. With Mulder, there was never any way to know.

"Are you having fun?" Mulder was still watching him closely.

"Fun. No, I am not having fun. If you and your partner hadn't acquired such a reputation for unreliability, Agent Mulder, I wouldn't have been ordered to sit here and watch the two of you."

He was sorry as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but Mulder's close scrutiny was making him nervous. The agent winced slightly and Skinner felt a stab of guilt.

"What comes next?"

"Next? Next, we finish the job and get back to the office."

"I mean, this weekend. Do you have plans?"

"My plans for the weekend include catching up on the paperwork that's piling up on my desk while I'm out here watching you and Agent Scully do your jobs." Skinner seemed unable to control the urge to take his frustration out on Mulder.

"What's the matter? Didn't we remember to say thank you?"

"I don't expect gratitude."

Mulder gave him a quick glance. "Do you think we're unreliable?"

"If I did, you wouldn't be on this assignment. On the other hand, it might be better if you tried a bit harder to convince the rest of the Bureau that you're not going to take off in the middle of a case to go chasing after Bigfoot."

"That's the second time you've mentioned Bigfoot." Mulder polished off the last of the chicken. "Do you know something I should know?"

"It was a figure of speech, Agent Mulder. Bigfoot has no connection with this assignment."

"As long as you're sure."

Skinner gave him a sharp look. Mulder responded with a smile of unbelievable innocence, thereby proving he'd just been needling his boss.

"How about some ice cream? You a dessert person?"

"No. Do you talk in your sleep?"

"In my sleep? Not as far as I know."

"In that case, your next assignment is to go to bed and fall asleep immediately."

"Can I have some ice cream first?"

"If you can do it quietly."

Mulder grinned and bent over the sugary dessert. Skinner watched in fascination as Mulder scooped a large portion into the bowl, wondering how he stayed in such good shape.

"I'm going to turn in." Skinner pushed back his chair and stood up. "We're sleeping on the second floor. On the right, at the top of the stairs."

"OK." Mulder nodded to him absently, his mind suddenly elsewhere.

Skinner headed toward the door, wondering if he could get to sleep before Mulder finished eating.

"Sir?"

He looked back to see Mulder staring after him thoughtfully.

"Yes, Agent Mulder?"

"Do you like chocolate?"

"What?"

"You do, right? I have you pegged for almond bars. Am I right?"

"I can't see how that can possibly matter." Skinner resolutely kept himself from thinking about Fox Mulder's peculiar conversational style as he went on up the stairs. Luck was with him, after a fashion. He did manage to think about something else when he opened the door and remembered that the room was furnished with a single, king-size bed. It seemed more significant than it had when he explored the house four hours ago.

"Shit." His exclamation echoed in the suddenly too-small room. Sharing a bed with Mulder wasn't high on his wish list tonight, but the situation didn't have a solution unless he ordered the other man to sleep in a chair. Or on the floor. And, since he didn't feel like explaining just why he felt that was necessary, he estimated he had about ten minutes to get used to the idea. In the shower he firmly disciplined himself not to think about the bed. About Fox Mulder. About...whatever.

Snapping off the bedside lamp, he pulled the blankets up and closed his eyes. He would either be asleep, or giving a really good imitation of it, by the time the other man arrived.

His timing was perfect. Five seconds later, Mulder walked into the room and switched on the light. Skinner made the mistake of opening his eyes.

Mulder grinned. "Oops. Sorry, sir." He switched the light off. "This is the room you mentioned, isn't it sir? Did I miss the other door?"

Skinner cursed silently. "Yes, Agent Mulder, it is. Do you have a problem with it?"

"No problem, sir. I've been undressing in the dark for years." 

He sighed. Everything Mulder said had at least three possible interpretations. He found himself watching the shadowy figure tensely.

Moonlight streamed in through the open curtains. Framed in the soft light, Mulder started undressing casually. First the suit jacket, which he hung neatly across a chair. Then shoes and socks, kicked under the table. Then the white shirt. One button at a time, slowly. Pulling off the shirt, he dropped it next to the shoes and reached for his belt. The leather made a soft noise slipping through the loops and the buckle chimed as it hit the table. Next the pants. Button. Zipper. Down the legs and off the feet. Carefully folded and dropped across the jacket.

Skinner closed his eyes tightly. He couldn't believe he was laying there watching one of his agents strip as though it were a private peep show. He couldn't believe how much the show had turned him on.

The bed bounced gently as the other man joined him.

"Sir?" The voice was impossibly innocent. "You didn't answer my question."

"Question?" Skinner struggled but he couldn't remember any conversation. Only Mulder undressing in the moonlight.

"Do you like chocolate? You didn't answer."

His eyes snapped open to see the other man smiling at him from two feet away. He had to know what he looked like, lying there in nothing but an inadequate pair of boxers.

"Yes, I like chocolate." Skinner struggled to find some purpose in the apparently random conversation. "Does it matter?"

"Not really, I guess." Mulder shrugged. His bare chest glowed in the moonlight.

"Why did you want to know?" Skinner dragged his eyes to the agent's face.

"I thought as long as we were stuck here together, we might as well use the time to learn a little more about each other. Would you like to know if I like chocolate?"

"Why didn't you ask if I believe in Bigfoot?"

 "I already know the answer to that one. What is it with you and Bigfoot tonight? Are you sure there isn't something you'd like to tell me?"

"I can't believe this."

"What?"

"Every time I have a conversation with you, I think you've finally gone as far as you can go, that even you couldn't possibly find anything weirder to say."

"Are you telling me you find my conversation strange?"

"I'm telling you I don't believe for a minute that you give a damn what kind of candy I like. What I don't understand is why you asked."

"Because I was at a loss for conversation?"

"Go to sleep, Agent Mulder."

"I'm not sleepy, sir. I can't believe you think I'm strange. I hoped you had a better opinion of me by now."

Skinner's eyes snapped open. He had closed them in an effort not to stare at the man next to him. "What are you talking about?"

Mulder was smiling, his eyes wide and soft in the darkness.

Skinner's stomach clenched and he started thinking about spending the night in a chair in the kitchen.

"I kind of thought we were bonding here or something."

"Did you? I thought I was out here helping you and Agent Scully complete a routine assignment."

"I still think you're enjoying yourself, sir. Even Bigfoot has to be an improvement over sitting in that office."

"And what makes you think that?"

"I've been watching you."

"Yes, I noticed." Skinner hadn't meant to admit that, the statement just slipped out.

"You did?" Mulder sat up and propped his pillow against the headboard. When he leaned back, the boxers rode up a few inches to expose a definite tan line. Skinner looked away.

"What's wrong, was I making you nervous?"

"No."

"That's good, because I wanted to make a good impression."

Skinner didn't want to ask the inevitable question, but the silence compelled him. "Why?"

"I told you. I thought we should get to know each other better."

Skinner couldn't believe it. It was bad enough that he had to lie here and pretend that he didn't mind sleeping platonically next to a man whose shadowy presence had been sliding into his dreams with explicit intent for months. That was enough to guarantee a sleepless night. Having Mulder draped across the blankets like a pin-up boy in a slick magazine was too much.

"Are you nervous because we're sleeping together?"

The question mirrored Skinner's thoughts so closely it shocked him. "What do you mean by that?"

"I thought you might be nervous because you had to share a bed with another man. It makes some people very nervous."

"Agent Mulder, I can well imagine that anyone who has to share a bed with you would be nervous!"

"Are you uncomfortable because it's me? Is that what you're saying?"

"Is this conversation going somewhere? Or are you just trying to prevent me from sleeping?"

Mulder looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then rolled over. "Good night, sir." The sheets rustled as he slid into the bed.

Skinner knew he'd made a mistake. "Agent Mulder, I'm sorry, but it's been a long day. Was there something you were trying to say?"

"Not really. I was just making conversation."

Skinner stared into the darkness, cursing silently. He stared at the other man's body, the white sheet offering a blurred outline of erotic peaks and hollows across Mulder's shoulders and hips. After a few seconds, he realized he was being watched.

Mulder grinned invitingly. "Is this going somewhere or are you just trying to keep me from getting any sleep?"

Skinner didn't know what to say. He'd never been caught giving a subordinate the eye before. "No."

"No it isn't going anywhere? No you're not trying to keep me from sleeping? Or no, you don't want me to sleep?" Mulder's voice was warm and husky.

Skinner tried to work out the options in his head, wondering which was the least likely to lead the conversation someplace he couldn't control. Suddenly he was tired of playing games.

"What the hell do you want me to say? You're my subordinate, Agent Mulder. I'm your boss."

"The one does naturally follow the other," Mulder nodded. "I don't see what that has to do with our conversation, though."

"It's not our conversation that worries me. It's where it's leading."

"Really? Tell me about it."

"Mulder, we could both get fired for this."

"Are you planning to file a report, sir?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Then I don't see where the problem is."

"Agency policy specifically forbids supervisors from engaging in personal relationships with their agents."

"I'm not planning to file a report either."

"It isn't enough just to follow the rules when you're being watched, Agent Mulder."

"Speaking of which, I know you were watching me get undressed. Your eyes are beautiful in the moonlight. I assume you find me attractive or we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"I've changed my mind."

"Already?"

"I mean about our conversation. It is what worries me."

Mulder licked his lips. "Maybe we should stop talking."

"That's probably a good idea. If you keep trying to seduce me, god knows what could happen."

"I'm disappointed it isn't working."

"Oh, it's working all right."

"Is it? I can't tell from here."

"Maybe you should take a closer look." The invitation spill out before he was aware of it.

Mulder scooted across the space that separated them and leaned on one elbow, grinning down at the older man.

"Agent Scully and the prisoner are both downstairs," Skinner reminded him.

"Let them find their own dates."

Looking up into the eager face, Skinner had one last objection. "We're both insane."

"All of the best people are." Mulder slid one arm around Skinner's neck and pulled their mouths together. Their tongues met and tangled, sucking and licking. When the kiss ended, they were both breathless.

"Finally." Mulder pulled the pillow away and pushed Skinner flat against the bed. "That's better. Always try to keep your victim off-balance."

"Victim? Is that how you see me here?" Skinner arched his neck to let the other's lips trail a line of kisses along his neck.

"You're not exactly going out of your way to cooperate." Mulder sucked his earlobe.

"I promised not to put you on report. I'm not making you sleep on the floor. What more did you want?" Mulder's gentle breath in his ear was clouding Skinner's thoughts.

"If the answer's no, say so. If it's yes, try to show a little enthusiasm," Mulder suggested.

Their hips pressed together and he knew Mulder could feel his hardness through the thin cloth. Rolling over, he pinned him to the bed. "You want enthusiasm? I thought you wanted an audience."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I mean, that little performance you put on. That striptease, then posing in your underwear like a male model. You're so strange, it could have meant anything. Or nothing."

"And I thought I was doing so well. That's twice I've failed to impress you, Assistant Director Skinner."

"Don't call me that."

"Never?"

"It sounds stupid when you're naked."

"I'm not naked," Mulder pointed out logically.

"Yes, and that's another problem. Why the hell aren't you naked, Agent Mulder?" Skinner moved his hips experimentally, watching Mulder's eyes suddenly go dark.

"Don't call me Agent Mulder when you're not naked."

Skinner frowned at him, trying but failing to suppress a smile. Inside he could feel barriers dissolving. He hadn't chanced a relationship like this in years. And of all the men he'd met in that time, Mulder was the only one he could imagine trusting this far. His reluctant grin was rewarded with a brilliant smile.

"Feeling better?"

"Not yet. You're still overdressed."

"So are you."

They pulled away from each other far enough to get rid of their remaining garments, Mulder's boxers and the tasteful dark blue pajama bottoms that Skinner had been hiding behind.

Throwing both garments across the room, Mulder said thoughtfully, "Some day we'll look back on this night as a turning point. Everything that happened up until now will be like Butch and Sundance, the Early Years." One hand stroked Skinner's chest tentatively, rubbing the sensitive nipples slowly.

"Do you see this as the beginning of a beautiful relationship?" Skinner gasped and arched his back slightly.

Mulder ignored him. "Later, when we're old and gray...or at least when I'm gray...we'll have the Golden Years." Mulder's hand slipped down and stroked his thigh.

"We haven't even had sex and you've already got us spending our lives together!" Skinner was aching and the man hadn't even touched him yet.

"Well, at the rate we're going, I could be old and gray before we *have* sex!"

"I always imagined that someone bent on seduction would have more patience."

Mulder knelt over him, holding their mouths a bare inch apart. "Yes or no, Walter." He lowered his weight with agonizing slowness. Skinner tasted every inch of sensation when bare skin scraped his chest and hips.

"Very well, if you insist. I'm still going to claim that you seduced me, you know."

"Good. That means next time you have to seduce me." Mulder kissed him, slowly and thoroughly, leaving them both gasping for breath.

"I'm looking forward to it," he whispered.