r2-Eli_Anne-p2
Viva Tower
Skinner's Apartment
November 25, 1999
3:00 p.m.
Skinner grunted as he threw armfuls of packages onto the floor in his apartment.
"I can’t believe you talked me into buying so much stuff! And the crowds! You must be nuts if you do this every year."
Mulder grinned at Skinner as he dropped an even larger number of packages onto the floor of Skinner’s living room. His face was flushed from the exertion and he couldn’t help laughing at Skinner surrounded by a moat of boxes from every upscale department store in town.
"Don’t grumble," Mulder said chuckling, collapsing on the floor next to his bags. "You’ll be better dressed than all the other AD’s. You got some really nice stuff."
"You coerced me into buying it all - all the endless flattery about how great I looked. I’ll just send YOU the credit card bill next month!" Skinner shoved his way through the boxes to get a couple of beers. He handed one to Mulder then sank into the couch.
Skinner watched as Mulder acted like a kid on Christmas morning, opening all his boxes and sorting his new clothes into different piles. He grew thoughtful as he imagined how their lives would be if they were a couple, living together. Skinner had a great day at the malls with Mulder, talking and laughing. Each time he tried on new clothes Mulder would study him with a serious, thoughtful expression before giving his opinion; of course, his opinion was always on target. The man really had an eye for clothes; from the fanciest suits to jeans and sweaters, his taste was impeccable. Skinner smiled as he remembered what the clerk at Saks Fifth Avenue said: "You’re boyfriend has great taste; is he a model?" Skinner just laughed and winked at the clerk. It had sounded really nice - boyfriend.
"What are you thinking about?" Mulder asked, looking up at Skinner, a small smile on his face.
"Nothing, nothing. Just wondering how much of an advance I’m going to have to ask the Director to pay for all this." Skinner ducked as Mulder threw a wad of paper at him.
"What are you going to want for dinner? Do you want to go out, or eat the leftovers Mom gave me?"
"You want me to stay for dinner? Aren’t you getting tired of my company?" Mulder replied.
"I don’t think I could ever get tired of your company, Mulder," Skinner said softly, looking him directly in the eyes.
At the intense look Skinner gave him, Mulder blushed deeply. He hopped up and hurried to the bathroom. "I have to go."
Skinner waited until Mulder returned, noticing that Mulder very conspicuously avoided eye contact.
"Mulder, I was thinking that if you stayed a little longer, we could finish your story. You know, it’s good to get it all out. It will hopefully help us find the person who committed the murder." He took another swig of beer, waiting to hear Mulder’s response. He didn’t want this weekend to end, even if he had to hear of those terrible early years Mulder had.
"OK, I’ll stay," Mulder said quietly, starting to gather up the detritus of his shopping spree. He would be able to carry all his new clothes home in just a couple of bags once everything was out of boxes and off hangers. "You pick what you want for dinner."
"Well, I suggest we stay in and eat the leftovers. That way we can relax the rest of the evening in privacy."
***
Viva Tower
Skinner's Apartment
November 25, 1999
9:00 p.m.
"You’re Mom’s food is even better heated up," said Mulder. He was curled up at one end of the sofa, sipping a glass of wine.
"Leftovers were always one of her specialties," replied Skinner. He was at the other end of the sofa.
"Why don’t you continue with your story, Mulder? I feel like we’re reaching a very important part of it. I’m here for you, whatever it is you have to say." He reached out a hand to clasp Mulder’s arm. Mulder looked up briefly, smiling.
"Thanks, Walter. You’ve been a really good friend."
"By the time I got the case, it was already several months old. Everybody had big expectations that our team would solve it in a day or two like everything else I had worked on. But this time, something was wrong. I couldn’t figure it out!"
***
Washington D.C.
BSU
November 21, 1986
5:00 p.m.
"Mulder, we’ve had this case for three weeks! THREE WEEKS! Why don’t you work your voodoo and figure it out!" yelled Mike Hatter. He was furious; furious at himself for becoming so incompetent over the last few years, furious at Patterson for bringing this upstart brat in, furious at Mulder for being too damn smart for his own good.
Mulder cringed at those words. He couldn’t believe it; he was at an utter loss. Nothing made sense about this case. He couldn’t put anything together.
"I..I..I’m trying, sir. I don’t know why nothing is making sense in this case."
"GREAT! Now that the wunderkind is at a loss, I guess we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way. A way I’m sure you’re not familiar with Mulder. I hope Patterson has another job for you - I don’t know what good you’ll be doing all the legwork that it takes to really solve a case!"
Mulder looked down at his file, shame-faced. He had never felt like such a failure. With the success of the past couple of months, he was hoping that he might be able to make some headway with his father, but now… He started flipping through the file again; not that it was necessary, but he couldn’t just sit there with them watching him like that.
"OK, guys, let’s get some kind of plan together - we’ve got to profile this guy soon or everybody will be on our backs," barked Hatter, finally spurring the team to action. "When we figure out what you can do to help us, Mulder, we’ll let you know," he sneered, whisking the file out of Mulder’s hands. The team moved to the other end of the conference room and started loudly arguing to themselves about the next step to take. Mulder just sat in his chair, wringing his hands together.
"Think, damn you, think!" Mulder yelled to himself, clasping his hands to his forehead.
Patterson stood watching through the conference room window. His team was falling apart. His protégé seemed to have a mental block against this case. He didn’t care. Eventually they would solve this case - even if it took a while. He didn’t care about any case. Over the past few weeks, he had become more and more obsessed with Mulder and his sexy ass. The FBI could go to hell - he had to get into Mulder’s pants, and soon, or he would explode. This was his chance.
"Hatter!" yelled Patterson as he stalked into the conference room. "Front and center!"
Hatter and the rest of the team scrambled to pull themselves together.
"Hatter, you and the others will work day and night until you crack this UNSUB. Cancel your weekend plans! And if you don’t solve it this weekend, cancel your Thanksgiving plans! No one stops until we make an arrest! Do I make myself clear?" Patterson’s face was beet red as he glared at Hatter.
"Yes, sir," Hatter said, white-faced. He pulled himself up and started screaming orders. "Sikes, Bender, Hayes, you go over the forensics again; Mulder, Reading, review those interviews, Jones…"
"Mulder isn't staying."
"Excuse me, sir?" Hatter replied.
"Mulder isn’t staying. I’m giving him the weekend off. He’s done more work in the past couple of months then you screw-ups have done over the past two years!"
"Sir, that’s not necessary. I need to stay with the team…" Mulder said, jumping up from his chair.
"Mulder, you’ll take the weekend off like I said. The rest of you get to work! Mulder, come with me." He grabbed Mulder’s arm and led him out of the conference room. The rest of the team glared at him as he was dragged out.
"Sir, this really isn’t right. We’re a team - I should stay."
"Mulder, I don’t want to hear another word. You’ve been working very hard and you deserve some time off. Let the others carry their weight for once. In fact, let me treat you to dinner; you’ve more than earned it."
"Dinner, sir?"
"Yes; it’s my way of thanking you for all you’ve contributed to our department. We’ve had great results since you’ve joined. Consider it a bonus."
"I don’t know…" Mulder said reluctantly. He’d been getting some strange vibes from Patterson; he’d become frightened at being alone with him. Now dinner?
"Come on, Fox. It’s my treat."
"OK."
***
Viva Tower
Skinner's Apartment
November 25, 1999
11:00 p.m.Mulder started shaking as he remembered that night. He covered his eyes, hiding his face from Skinner. How could he continue? That night he had felt such shame at what had happened. His shame had only deepened over the years as he hid what had happened between him and Patterson. No textbook statements about mental coercion and power dynamics could stop him from feeling that he had been at fault, that he’d only gotten what he deserved. Tears started slipping down his cheeks despite his efforts to stop them.
"Oh, Fox, it’s ok," Skinner’s heart broke as he saw Mulder break down. After a moment’s indecision he moved closer and pulled Mulder to him, hugging him close to his chest. At this sign of affection, Mulder started to cry in earnest. Skinner held him tight, stroking his head as he let Mulder release the emotions he had held in for so long.
"You don’t have to go on; we can finish later."
"No, I want to finish. If I don’t say it now I won’t ever say it." Mulder pulled himself back into a sitting position, suddenly shy at the unexpected intimacy. He had found great comfort in Skinner’s arms, had felt safe and protected. Maybe after all this is over, he and Skinner…but wait. He didn’t know how Skinner would see him after hearing the whole truth. He’d probably never want to see him again, socially, at least. No turning back now, though.
"We did go to dinner. I think the only time I felt more uncomfortable at dinner was when I told my dad I was joining the FBI. Patterson kept staring at me, and he was drinking a lot. I suppose I was too - and I don’t do well with a lot of alcohol. When he invited me up to his apartment, I should have said no. But I didn’t…"
Jo's turn!