Mulder put his last file in the drawer and closed it up for the holiday. Scully looked at him and smiled. "You look excited for once, Mulder, and it's not about work."

"I like your family. And Bill won't be there." Mulder's smile threatened to outshine the tinsel that he'd strewn around the office.

"I'm sure that's the best reason for you, Mulder." Scully was teasing, but she knew how hurtful her older brother could be. As unaffected as Mulder could act, she also knew that it hurt him deeply.

"I'm sure you're even happier to have my mother cooking, though, aren't you?" Scully smiled as she shut down her computer.

"Oh, without a doubt!" The phone rang, interrupting their escape. Mulder answered and his face fell quickly. "Yes, Assistant Director Skinner. We'll be right up."

Scully looked over at Mulder and her face fell a bit. "He must have a camera down here."

"What could he possibly want? We don't work for him anymore." Mulder slipped his jacket over his shoulders and followed Scully out the door to the elevator. They stood silently side-by-side as the numbers increased to four, the floor where all nine assistant directors had their offices. It was late in the day, two days before Christmas. They had wanted to get out of the office and get moving before the mass exodus of people trying to get home for Christmas Eve.

Scully followed Mulder into the office, waved in by Skinner's assistant who was eating a rich piece of pastry. Mulder smiled at her, dying to know if she had the same kind of red hair as Scully, bottled. Skinner stood beside his desk sipping from a paper cup. He looked at his agents and smiled.

"Merry Christmas, agents. Can I offer you some refreshments?" he said, pointing to the generous spread of h'ors d'oeuvres, finger sandwiches and pastries laid out. He handed them both cups of merlot and smiled demurely. "Sorry about the cups..."

"We're not allowed to drink in the building, sir," Mulder finished. "We know. Thank you. This is..."

"Kind of you," Scully finished, jabbing Mulder in the ankle with the heel of her shoe. They'd been partners long enough that Mulder not only knew exactly what that jab meant, but not to acknowledge she'd jabbed him.

"I hate those organized parties, so I decided to just put out the things I like, invite my agents in and we could just enjoy some time. I like this idea better."

"Sir, we're not your agents anymore," Mulder mentioned.

"I know, but I doubt your assistant director went to this kind of trouble and I thought that after all the time we had worked together, you belonged here."

Mulder smiled gently. "Thank you, sir. Mighty kind of you."

"Do you have plans for Christmas?" Skinner asked, walking to his chair and sitting, indicating the two agents to sit.

"I'm taking Mulder to my mother's," Scully answered. "My older brother will be out of town at his mother in law's house, so I figured it was safe."

Skinner smiled back. "That sounds lovely. Please extend my warmest greetings to your family. And I'd like to give you something."

Skinner opened a desk drawer and drew out two narrow boxes, almost identical. Mulder looked at them curiously. "Sir, if that's an ID bracelet, does that mean we're going steady?"

Skinner gave him and icy look for a moment, and Mulder questioned whether he'd finally gone over the line. Scully bestowed another kick in his ankle. He'd have trouble running tomorrow. It was a relief when mirth found the usually sober brown eyes and Skinner chuckled.

"Just open it, Mulder. And you, Agent Scully."

Both agents removed the ribbon and paper to find the tell-tale blue box of the Waterman pen company. Nestled in each box was a fine pen, made of brushed colored brass. Mulder's was larger and heavier, engraved with his initials, FWM. Scully's however, was very different; a smaller ladies' pen in lavender, matching a summer suit she knew she had stuffed in the closet.

"Sir, these are...lovely. Thank you very much," Scully said, marveling at the brass appointed detail on the dainty writing instrument.

"My hope is that when you sign your expense reports in it, you give your AD a break on the crazy details. He isn't as...open-minded as I am."

Mulder searched Skinner's eyes a moment, trying to find the black cat in the dark room. Skinner was a smart man and his glasses hid his eyes carefully. "So, sir...you have Christmas plans?" Mulder looked intensely at his former supervisor while trying not to be caught doing so.

Clearing his throat, Skinner stated, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I'm going to be staying at my vacation home. Thank you for asking."

Mulder knew Skinner considered that matter closed, but it intrigued Mulder. The man had so many secrets, so many parts of himself that he kept hidden. Mulder felt sometimes, when you trusted someone, you should just lay yourself bare and trust that the information wouldn't be used against you. Mulder was sure Skinner had more than just plans to go to a vacation house.

"Where's the house, sir?" Mulder asked. He saw the look Scully shot at him and ignored it. He wanted to know something more about his boss. He wanted to know a lot more.

"Oh, Virginia Beach. I have a beach house there. I plan on being there until after the new year."

Mulder nodded with understanding. "Who with?" he asked, suddenly.

"Mulder!" Scully chastised. "That's none of our business."

Skinner cleared his throat and looked directly in Mulder's eyes. "She's correct, Agent Mulder. That isn't your business. I will tell you that both of my parents have passed and I was an only child. That should give you a hint at how I'm spending my holiday."

Mulder looked down guiltily. He hadn't meant to embarrass his boss. At that very moment, he was thankful his partner had more manners than he did.

"Sir, if you aren't busy, we would like for you to come to my mother's house for Christmas dinner. I could probably persuade her to invite you to Christmas eve as well."

Mulder was surprised to see the blush rise in Skinner's face. Embarrassment was not something that Skinner showed to them, and here he was, red as a tomato. Mulder almost laughed out loud to see the top of his boss' bald head turn red. Thankfully, he controlled himself long enough to keep from being killed by a tall bald man and short redhead.

"Thank you, Agent Scully, and I appreciate it. I do have family, I must admit. Sharon, my...late wife, her family offers me a standing invitation to visit them in Harrisburg, but this year, I decided that I would like some peace and quiet. I'm too old to be 'horsy' and the grandchildren don't understand the Uncle Walt just wants to watch football quietly."

"Grandkids?" Mulder asked.

"Sharon's brothers and sisters children. I love them all dearly, but this year, after everything that's been happening, I just want to have some quiet."

Scully smiled demurely at Skinner. Mulder screwed up his mouth in thought and nodded. "Sounds like a nice holiday, sir. I...um..."

"Sir," Scully rescued, almost reading Mulder's mind, "We didn't get anything for you. We're very sorry."

"It's alright, agents. I didn't expect it. That's the joy of Christmas, the gift of giving. Now, it's about time you both got on your way to your families. If I heard correctly, Arlene's already left for her trip. I hope you both have a nice holiday and happy new year."

"Take care, sir," the agents said together, both taking the time to shake his hand. Mulder wondered if Scully had suppressed the urge to hug Skinner, but he was a very private man and didn't do those things.

Mulder walked out of the office with a feeling of curiosity about him. Scully kept watch of him as they went down in the elevator back to their office. "Mulder, what are you thinking?"

"Nothing, Scully. What makes you ask?"

"I know that look on your face. Don't even consider bothering A.D. Skinner on his vacation. Some people actually like to be alone. You, of all people, should know that."

Mulder smiled and led Scully back to the office and out of the building. He would not mention the idea again.

VIRGINIA BEACH, VA
EVENING

Walter Skinner, happy to be free of the office, walked into his condo front door and went about his ritual of putting away his coat, keys, wallet, cell phone and badge in the bowl on the desk, gun locked in the new replaced drawer with the steel lining and Master lock workings. He knew he would have to get on the road quickly if he was going to outrun the weariness that was getting into his bones. He would stop at the Krispy Kreme when he left and get a thermos of coffee and have them pack a dozen donuts for the arrival. Knowing his guest, the sweet tooth would have to be satisfied immediately.

He drove into the evening, ignoring the traffic and using the time to soothe his nerves with John Lee Hooker on the CD player and thoughts of his week and then some of relaxation at the beach, no briefcase, no laptop, cell phone only for emergencies and LOTS of time to read. He'd packed at least ten books he'd shirked in favor of investigation reports, budget reports, arrest and processing reports, reports, reports, reports! He'd had his fill of them and did not care to "catch up" while he was resting.

The only think he wanted to catch up on was his love life, which was sorely lacking in activity. He knew his guest would be waiting for him at the beach house. There had been some whining that the mountain cabin was not being utilized, but Skinner wanted a sense of familiarity. While his lover's skyward retreat was always excellent for them to have time together, he wanted his own place this time. With the weather report showing unusually high temperatures for the area for that time of year, if you can call upper 40s high, it would be perfect for walking along the sand, wearing sweaters and holding hands. No one came down during the holidays, so the beaches were practically deserted. No one would see them together. And anyone who did wouldn't know who they were, so it wouldn't matter.

He entered the house and could smell the mulled wine in the foyer. Alex always made mulled wine for the holidays, but Skinner knew it wouldn't be ready for a few days. Alex would work on it more as the days went on, to have it perfect for Christmas night.

"Walter! Please tell me you brought donuts!" came the shout from the kitchen.

"Of course! I needed coffee."

Walter removed his coat and scarf to put in the closet. He waited to see the lithe young man slink into the room. The loss of his left arm did nothing to his grace and beauty. Walter knew risk he took every time he saw Alex. The young man and he had first started carrying on when Alex was a recruit, and Walter knew it was the worst thing he could do to his career.

Years before the Englishman had died, the man had given Walter the true background of the young, skinny, hungry recruit. The boy was from immigrant parents, trying to escape giving up their child to the project, and had succeeded until the boy enrolled for college. He decided to go to a big Ivy league school, knowing that the full ride scholarship from Yale was all he needed to get ahead in life, give his children everything his parents couldn't give him, and take care of them in their waning years.

No, the Smoking Man had ended that fantasy, killing Alex's parents then forcing the young man to work for the Syndicate while going to school, changing his major to World Politics instead of the Computer Industry-based double major of Computer Science and Business that he had begun. Alex hated the Smoking man with every fiber of his being and helped Walter and his agents any chance he got.

Walter watched as the young man walked out of the kitchen and smiled. "Hey, Walt, you look like you need a drink. I'll get us both one."

"Sounds good," Walter said as he put his wallet, cell phone, badge and gun in the drawer of the hall closet, much the same way he did at home. If Walter was anything, he was a creature of habit.

Alex came back with his drink in his prosthetic hand and used his natural hand to give Walter his drink, scotch over ice. Walter smiled and took the drink gratefully, taking a sip. The smoky amber liquid burned in his throat and soothed the way down to his belly, where it began to sizzle. He needed it. The feeling that he was letting go, not "staying fit and sober for work the next day."

He watched Alex switch hands for his drink and take a sip, vodka from the freezer, no ice.

"How was the drive, Walt?" Alex asked.

"Murder. Every moron in fifty miles needed to get in my way. Why do people buy cars if they refuse to drive them properly?" Walter asked, walking to the couch to sit and rest.

"Hey, not everyone learned to drive on a tractor like you, you know. Some of us actually drove on paved roads." Alex moved quickly, just missing the foot aimed at his rear end.

"Then how about you help out this old farmer and get my bag from the foyer and put it in the bedroom."

"I'm a servant?" Alex asked, standing indignantly.

"You have pity."

Smiling, Alex put his drink down to bring Walter's bag to the bedroom where his own sat. They had a little more than a week together, but neither man had many articles of clothing with them. They didn't plan to be seen much. They also planned not to be dressed often. The house was almost totally closed in at the front and side by well-placed shrubbery and trees. The only sides that had any exposure were pointed toward the ocean. When visiting, the men frequently walked around totally nude, enjoying the look of each others' bodies.

Walter knew Alex had felt awkward and protective of his missing limb since the incident, but he worked hard to show his lover that it didn't matter to him in the least. Alex was always beautiful, there was no denying that. While Alex was in the bedroom, Walter went to the hearth and began the fire. He preferred doing it the way his grandfather had taught him, with kindling, then driftwood, then the large logs. Walter and Alex always stocked the holder beside the fireplace. Of course, they were store-bought logs, since neither of them had the inclination to cut down a tree, but they were just as good.

When Alex returned, sans clothing, Walter was also naked, laying on the assembled pillows strew across the fluffy rug in front of the fire.

"Should I put some music on, Walt?" he asked.

"Yeah, that would be nice. Then come here and lay down with me. I need to relax."

This was code for snuggling. Although neither man admitted to it, and neither asked for it, sometimes they wanted to just curl up in each other's arms and kiss quietly. They wanted to just feel each other, naked chests pressed together, arms curled around strong shoulders and cocks gently thrusting together.

In his head, Walter knew Alex liked to lie in his arms, but never said it. Alex didn't show his weaknesses, preferring to appear invulnerable. Yet, in that house, walking on the beach holding hands and talking about wishes and dreams was OK. It was the reprieve from the world.

Alex was the first to lead things toward the sexual, pushing Walter back down into the pillows and settling between the strong, muscled thighs. His cock, nestled next to Walter's, was just as hard. Walter didn't look, but he knew Alex was leaning on his amputated arm. He'd gotten more comfortable being without his prosthesis around Walter and it made Walter happy to know that.

Walter reached up and took Alex's face into his hands, silently musing how beautiful Alex was. Alex trailed his hand across Walter's chest, tangling in his chest hair. "I love this fur, Walt. Like my personal teddy bear."

Walter growled and pulled Alex down, kissing him deeply. Taking charge, Walter rolled Alex over and began smothering him with kisses, tickling his neck and shoulders. He moved his way down, passing a small scar he knew was a nick from a knife, and attacked the tiny nipples. The narrow hips began pressing the thick erection against Walter's belly. Sensing Alex's usual impatience, he bypassed his lovers hard, weeping cock and pulled Alex's legs up, exposing his dark entrance. He went in for the kill, lapping at the ring of muscle, making Alex squirm and whine.

"Walter, please, fuck me or suck me, but stop teasing me!" Alex yelled, bucking out of Walter's hold. Walter let him go and smiled. He'd purposely rimmed Alex well to ease the way, and plunged in. Alex's legs eased down as his body relaxed, legs sliding around Walter's waist. He pulled the big man down to cover his chest, growling in Walter's ear.

"Quiet, little cub, or I'll stop." Walter smiled down, slowing his strokes.

"Stop, and I'll kill you, I swear," Alex said, pressing his heels into Walter's ass.

"Yes, my prince," Walter mused in Alex's ear and was rewarded with another growl.

Walter continued pumping into Alex's ass, reveling in the feel of the tight, hot channel gripping his cock. He reached between them to jerk Alex to coming, loving the feel of the milking ass around his shaft. It wasn't long before he bathed Alex's insides with his come. He settled across Alex's body and calmed himself, gently placing kisses on the soft neck.

"Hey, you shaved again?" Walter asked.

"Yeah. Would have been nice if you had." Alex was always sarcastic when he felt put out.

"Sorry, baby. I'll do it tomorrow."

"You see a baby here? Now get the hell off me before I stain the pillows."

Walter let Alex wrestle his way out from under him and walk to the bathroom to wash up. Walter had a bit semen on his own belly, but didn't care. He inhaled deeply, taking in the still lingering scent of musk and man, Alex's own scent. He also knew that Alex would bring him a wad of tissues to clean up with, which he did. He stoked the fire while Walter wiped his chest and his cock, so Alex could lay against him and they could drowse until they were both hard again.

It was a simple ritual. Walter hoped that this vacation he wouldn't even have to change the sheets. They could take the afghan from the couch, the last one Sharon had made, and sleep each night before the fire. Walter liked that better than the bed. He never told Alex, but it was the bed he and Sharon slept in. He'd never removed it as he should have. He always felt he was cheating on Sharon when he and Alex slept in it, even though neither had ever mentioned Walter's late wife.

Christmas eve Walter took his car and went to get a tree for them. Alex stayed home and got out the decorations that Walter had stored there from the year before. They decorated the tree, cooked dinner together, and exchanged gifts by the fire. After making love again, they lay before the fire relaxing again.

"Walter, that watch is way too expensive."

A kiss on Alex's neck made him snicker. "Are you trying to tell me you don't want it?"

"No, I like it...I..." Alex trailed off and looked away.

Walter sat up, looking down at Alex's profile and watched as the painful emotions play across his previously serene features. And then it hit Walter. Alex only had one wrist. How would he change the time if he needed to?

"You're angry because I forgot about your arm?" Walter asked. His hand traced the wrinkle at the top of Alex's nose and he rubbed it to try and smooth it out.

Alex shook Walter's hand off. "Fuck off, man! It's not fucking funny! It fucking hurt!"

Walter pulled back, not wanting Alex to lash out. He was still deadly, with one arm, even with a lover.

Alex got up and walked naked to the bar and poured himself a glass of vodka, and got ice from the fridge dispenser. He didn't come back to the pillows, but stayed there, watching the beach, the waves coming in and out. Walter went up behind him, knowing Alex could see him in the glass. Alex allowed the arms to circle his waist and pull him against the furry chest.

"Alex, the watch has a quartz battery and it's built to never go fast or slow. You won't have to wind it. And...when daylight savings comes around, you'll just have to make sure I'm around to change it."

Alex let out a laugh. He turned to Walter and slipped his arm around Walter's neck and pulled him down to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't..."

Walter cut him off with another kiss. "At least, let me put it on you." Walter gotten the watch at Movado and asked for a quick release band, made for a person with limited abilities. It was made to go on easily as well, so Alex just leaned his hand against his arm and it clicked into place. Alex extended his wrist and let Walter click it into place. It was thin, black and gold, with a slight glaze on the face so that it didn't reflect light, which was important for when Alex was being stealthy.

Alex took a deep breath that was masking the lump in his throat. "Walt, it's gorgeous. I love it."

"I'm so glad. I like my gift, too. It's perfect. You know me so well." Alex had searched the bookstores of Europe for a book on Napoleon that he knew Walter would absolutely adore. It was written in French, which was fine, because Walter could speak four languages besides English and read two of them. He would savor the book.

"I looked for that book for a very long time. I knew it existed, I just couldn't remember where I had seen it."

"Bullshit. You were vacationing in Belgium and stumbled across it..."

Alex turned and looked up at Walter with the glare in his eyes that made most men soil themselves. Walter however countered with the patented assistant director's glare that ensured the conviction rate of more than one U.S. district attorney, making perps fall all over themselves to confess.

"OK, fine. I had actually seen it, but when I came back across it, I knew you'd want it. Besides, you need to brush up on your French. It sucks."

Walter snuck a kiss on Alex's neck. "I thought you liked it when I sucked."

"Oh, yeah, you can demonstrate your technique," he said, taking Walter's hand and pulling him back to the pillows.

"Oh, you are so bad, Alex," he said, being led away to their nest. They spent most of their time there, making love, talking, reading, only getting up to eat and visit the bathroom. After three days, Walter insisted they bathe.

"Why, Walt? I like laying here doing nothing."

"Alex, I'm starting to offend myself. We need to wash. Besides, you love that tub." Reluctantly, Alex let Walter pull him away to the tub. They lazed in the water, softened with scented musk and patchouli salts. Mostly, they rolled around in the water like big fish, wrestling and kissing. When Walter found he and Alex were starting to prune, he pulled a reluctant lover from the water and they fairly danced their way to the nest again, where Walter started drying Alex with the towel he'd snatched on the way out of the bathroom.

Alex lay back, staring up at Walter, nestled down in the pillows. Walter feasted his eyes on the tableau laid out before him, still glistening with water. Rippling muscles, golden skin with a sprinkling of light hair were considered gifts to Walter. Alex gifted his body and wit and love to Walter each and every time. One perfect leg slid up Walter's chest to rest against his shoulder, still glistening with water. Against Alex's golden skin, the droplets were fiery jewels in the light of the last rays of sun for the day.

Movement out of the corner of Walter's eye caught his attention and he turned. Alex was huddled far down in the pillows and could not be seen, but the leg on Walter's shoulder, his mouth caressing the instep as he gently rubbed away the moisture couldn't be mistaken for anything other than what it was. The face in the window, plain as day, couldn't be mistaken for anyone else but Mulder. Skinner had taken to wearing his contacts while on vacation and saw the look of shock on Mulder's face.

"Shit!" Skinner exclaimed, as Mulder disappeared to move around to the front of the house.

"What?" Alex asked sitting up. A firm hand on his shoulder pushed him back.

"Mulder's here. He saw me kiss your foot. I don't think he saw you, though. Stay here. Don't move or speak."

"Christ, doesn't he have a fucking life?" Alex ground out.

"Shhhh!" Walter said back, standing and wrapping the towel around his waist. He had no clue what he would say to Mulder, but he would have to come up with something quickly. He opened his door, which was well hidden from the living room where they'd been spending all their time. Mulder was fumbling with his keys trying to get into his car when he turned to face Skinner.

"Agent Mulder, get over here!" Skinner shouted quietly. The errant agent dropped his shoulders and walked slowly to the open front door. It was cold out, and Mulder only wore a leather jacket.

"Sir, I...I'm so..."

"Shut up!" Skinner said, abruptly. "It's cold, so listen up. You have no right to be here, much less sneaking around to spy in my windows. How dare you! Who the hell do you think you are!"

"Sir, I was just...concerned about you being here alone. I thought..."

"You thought what? This had better be good for me not to censure you when we get back to Washington."

"I knew you'd been having a rough time lately, sir. I just hoped I wouldn't find you dead on the floor with a gunshot wound to the head." Mulder was getting angry and he bit his words out in the growing twilight.

"A what? Are you kidding, Mulder? If I was having any emotional problems, I would see someone professionally about them. Not my most troublesome agent! You're not even under my jurisdiction anymore, Agent Mulder! You have really crossed the line, here. Invading my privacy like this is unforgivable."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you and your...um, your guest."

"And that little detail, while again none of your business, will remain between us." Skinner could feel the blush rising in his features, but he hoped Mulder would chalk it up to either the cold or the sunset.

"Sir, there's no rule against being gay in the bureau." Mulder's sarcastic tone irritated Skinner all the more.

"Mulder, I do not want the details of my private life made public. Period. If anyone should know that, it's you."

"Sir..."

"Does Agent Scully know you're here?" Skinner asked, expecting the negative answer.

"Uh, no sir, she doesn't." Mulder looked away, not comfortable with the verbal assault.

"I didn't think so. I want you to get in your car, and get out of here and not look back. I will forget you were here."

"Sir, please, I'm really sorry, what can I do to make you believe that?" The look on Mulder's face was pure torture, and Skinner was beginning to feel bad.

"You can leave. I have a guest, remember? I would like to get back to him."

As soon as Skinner confirmed it was a man inside, as if Mulder hadn't guessed, Mulder stood up a little straighter. "Yes, sir. Good night."

"Good night, Mulder. Drive carefully."

Skinner closed the door and locked it carefully. He reset the perimeter alarms on all the windows and doors. He hadn't set it since he arrived, but under the circumstances, he felt it was necessary. He walked back in and found Alex had disappeared. He walked to the bedroom where Alex was dressing quickly, throwing his few clothes into his bag.

"Where are you going, Alex?" Skinner asked, tossing aside the towel and slipping on his bathrobe for the first time that week.

"You're gonna tell me that Mulder shows up and you think he wasn't followed?" Alex retorted. "Please, Walter. This is the Consortium. Even I'm not good enough to evade them forever. They can't find out!"

Walter watched sadly as Alex slipped his arm on and strapped it into place. He slipped his shirt on and then sat in Walter's chair to put his boots on.

"It's only two days after Christmas. You think they're really interested in what Mulder does for the holidays?" Skinner asked.

"No, I think they're interested why you're out here for a week at the holidays and not with your sister's family like you always are."

"Sharon's sister..."

"Whatever! Look, Walt, you knew this was a risk! Get over it, OK? I am." Alex threw his things into his small bag and walked towards the door out of the bedroom. He looked around the room to see if he'd left anything and continued on to the hall closet.

"What's the risk? Being here or being with you?" Skinner asked, following him out.

"Both! You knew that fucking me in the academy was a mistake. I'm sorry I fell in love with you. And I'm even sorrier you fell in love with me. This is too fucking complicated, my life is too complicated without having to worry if I'm fucking up your life. So...go home, OK? They'll show up here soon. Clean up all evidence of us, and get the hell out. Go home, Walter. Go home."

Walter took a deep breath and sniffed back his tears. Alex was right, and they both knew it. "Can I have a goodbye kiss? Please?"

Alex stepped forward, dropping his bag and wrapped his arm around Walter's neck. Walter pulled Alex closely, holding him tightly. Too tightly, apparently, as Alex began struggling and pulled away. He reached into his pocket and handed Walter a parking lot ticket and said, "Get rid of it. I'll rent another."

He opened the door and slammed it closed behind him, disappearing into the oncoming night. Skinner waited a beat then went to the window to see his retreating form, but Alex was smart and fast and had already disappeared. Skinner nodded and went back into the house to begin cleaning up to leave. He looked at the mantle clock. It was five-fifteen.

As he was finishing his last look around the house, having thrown away all of the perishables and left for the garbage truck that would come through next week. He took the tree down and left it by the trash, putting away all the ornaments for whenever he'd use them again. Just as he was walking to the door, he noticed the box on the coffee table. He didn't want to touch it, but he knew he shouldn't leave it there, forgotten. The watch was neatly back on it's velvet display, as if it had never been worn. Skinner shoved it in his bag and walked to the front door. He reset the alarm to leave and closed and locked his door behind him. "Thank you, Agent Mulder, for ruining my holiday."

NEW YEAR'S EVE
J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING

Mulder and Scully walked into the conference room and saw Skinner sitting near the head of the table. He wasn't in charge of the meeting; that was the Director. He would brief the senior staff and department heads for the coming year of bureau goals. They were always the same, but since Mulder was head of the X-Files, he needed to attend. He was amazed when he was given that title back, and decided to share it with Scully, so she would suffer with him.

As the meeting went on, Mulder stared across the table at Skinner, who did not look over at them once. Mulder hadn't told Scully what transpired at Skinner's place. He was surprised to see Skinner back so soon. He would have to ask what had happened to make him return so soon. He felt no compunction to ignore the change in plans.

After the meeting, Skinner slipped out a side door and disappeared before Mulder could get to him. Mulder was not to be deterred. He waited. And waited. And at exactly eight that evening, he went upstairs and down the hall to the office, and just like he thought, Skinner was still there. He waited a moment at the door, but Skinner didn't look up from the file he was reading. Mulder tentatively knocked on the doorframe.

The eyes that looked up at him were weary, older, flat. His shoulders were hunched over and his back was slumped forward. "Can I help you, Mulder?" he asked, quietly.

Mulder had wanted to talk to him since he'd left. The idea that he'd interrupted Skinner, and while the man was making love...Was Mulder jealous? He'd thought about that for days, it kept him up at night. All he could see was the foot in Skinner's hand, his lips meeting the pale flesh, the long, golden, well-muscled lines of Skinner's naked body. Although he didn't want to admit to Skinner that he'd seen the man completely naked, Mulder was a connoisseur of nudes and was impressed by the man who now sat before him, looking somehow more than a decade older than he had in two days.

"I wanted to say hello and ask why you came home so early." Mulder walked in, unbidden and sat in a chair.

"Mulder, when will you learn? My business is my own and..."

"Walter, why did you leave? You two fight?" Mulder unknotted his tie and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

"No, he was embarrassed by your interruption and left. I left the same night as well."

Mulder lowered his head and blushed deeply. "I'm so sorry, Walter. I didn't mean to..."

"I know, Mulder. I know. You didn't mean to ruin my holiday. Well, it's still New Year's Eve. Would you like to get a beer?"

Mulder watched a little of the life come back into the dark eyes across the desk from him. It was nice to see that. The eyes he remembered, looking down at the faceless lover as he dried the man's leg with a towel, that was the Skinner he preferred. The man wasn't wearing glasses; he looked ten years younger.

"I'd love to buy you a beer, sir. I know this place in Georgetown..." Mulder stood and walked with Skinner down to the garage and drove the man to the small place he went to when he needed to drown his sorrows. The soft-spoken bartender was there, the one who poured him shots until he'd had enough. She sent over a pitcher of beer and two mugs, and told the waitress to leave them alone. Mulder had described his boss to her, and she recognized him.

"So, sir, tell me what your childhood was like."

"You never stop, do you, Mulder?"

"No, sir. I thought you of all people knew that about me."

Skinner shook his head, took a drink of beer and began his story. "I was born in the north plains of Texas..."

THE END
Merry Christmas!

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