r2-Jo-p1
Viva Tower
Skinner's apartment
November 23, 1999
10:20 p.m.
Mulder rubbed his eyes and looked tiredly over at Skinner. "I … I should get going, Walter. Can I talk to you again? Maybe Friday or Saturday?" he asked nervously, unsure whether Skinner would want to be imposed upon on his days off.
"Of course, Mulder," Skinner said without hesitation, squeezing Mulder's knee reassuringly, he stood and walked over to the balcony door and glanced outside. He didn't want Mulder to leave in his present state of mind. "Mulder, the snow is pretty deep and it is still falling heavily. Why don't you sleep in my guestroom tonight? I'd feel better knowing that you weren't out in this."
Mulder was about to refuse but the genuine concern he saw in Skinner's brown eyes made him hesitate and say, "Thanks, I'd appreciate that, sir."
Skinner smiled. "We can talk some more in the morning, unless you need to get over to your mother's or Scully's for Thanksgiving."
"I … ah … don't generally do anything for Thanksgiving except for watching the ball games," Mulder confessed, feeling suddenly like a total loser in front of his boss. He wished that he had accepted the invitation from the gunmen.
"Mulder, you can watch the games with me over at my folks tomorrow," Skinner said gruffly.
"Sir, really that isn't necessary."
"Mulder, I'm not taking no for an answer."
Mulder blushed. "If you insist, Walter."
"Good," Skinner said, giving Mulder a warm smile. He walked back over to the sofa and offered Mulder a hand up, pulling him to his feet. "I'll get you a pair of my old sweats to sleep in and there is a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet in the guest bathroom." Skinner rested his hand on the small of Mulder's back as he guided him down the hall to the guestroom.
After Skinner left Mulder shrugged out of his black suit coat. The tie he had taken off earlier was crumpled in his pocket. He hung the coat in the closet and draped the tie over the hanger, then he sat on the edge of the bed to untie and remove his dress shoes and socks. They could use a good polish, he thought, before unbuckling his belt and slipping it off along with his holster and gun, which he set on the dresser.
Upstairs Skinner gathered up a few items for Mulder along with a disposable razor and shaving gel. He stopped and stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Why had Mulder decided to confide in him? Skinner felt he was not unlike Patterson, in that he was Mulder's direct supervisor, older, bald, glasses … and attracted to Mulder. Well, his agent didn't know that last part. He was saddened by Mulder's story of his first day. Skinner had wanted to hold and comfort the younger man several times during his telling of it. He hadn't realized how tough Mulder had it. Skinner, like most of his colleagues, had assumed that Mulder had an easy ride in the bureau due to family connections and his remarkable intelligence. Mulder's father had held an important position in the State Department at the time and it was well known that the Mulder family was good friends with Senator Matheson.
Looking back Skinner could see where there would have been resentment toward Mulder. It was only human nature. Mulder was an Oxford graduate while most of the bureau had attended American colleges. He wore expensive designer suits, not the standard off the rack Sears Roebuck or Brooks Brothers ensembles worn by the other agents, besides which Mulder had GQ cover boy looks and an incredible physique. Then there was his well-to-do family and his absolutely brilliant mind. Mulder was an incredible piece of work. Currently a broken piece, Skinner admitted sadly as he headed downstairs to the guestroom. He caught his breath in the doorway. Mulder was barefoot wearing only his black dress pants that hung seductively low on his hips, and a sleeveless undershirt. Skinner felt all the blood in his body pool in his groin, and his pants became unbearably tight. He walked stiffly over to the bed, and put the bundle in his arms down.
"I'm going to be turning in now, Mulder. I'll see you in the morning," Skinner said as he hastily turned and fled the room, hoping that Mulder hadn't seen the large erection he sported.
"Good night, Walter." Mulder eyes followed Skinner's broad back and tight ass as the large man hurried out of the room. He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully as he wondered if that piece of wood Skinner was sporting was for him? A satisfied smile spread across Mulder's face. Maybe he hadn't made a mistake in deciding to confide in Skinner. Mulder slipped off his pants and draped them over the back of a chair. He picked up the sweatpants and sniffed them, frowning disappointedly at the freshly laundered scent. The agent decided to take off his underwear since he needed to wear them again tomorrow to Skinner's parent's house. The sweatpants ended up being too big and he wished they had a drawstrings. Mulder found a safety pin in the guest bathroom and used it to fasten the waist so the pants wouldn't fall down. He brushed his teeth then went back to the bedroom and crawled under the crisp sheets.
For the first time since Sunday Mulder felt a sense of inner peace. Just knowing that Skinner was nearby helped a lot, and he was no longer shouldering his burden alone, Ski… Walter was there for him. He finally had someone he could confide in. Mulder lay there wondering what Walter's parents were like and if he had any brothers or sisters. He drifted off to sleep and dreamt what it would be like to be part of a normal family.
Skinner spent five minutes jerking off in the shower. He had never been so thoroughly turned on from just looking at another man. Who was he kidding? Mulder was not just any other man, he was someone Skinner genuinely liked and admired. Someone who he wanted to get to know more intimately, if Mulder would only let him near enough after what Patterson had done to him. "Damn!" Mulder was his agent and he was Mulder's boss. No way could he make any sexual advances toward Mulder, not with the young man being so wounded and vulnerable. He'd be no better than Patterson, if he did. Skinner turned the lights out and crawled into bed. He had a restless night as images of soulful hazel eyes, pouty lips, and long, incredibly long legs filled his dreams.
***
Viva Tower
Thanksgiving morning
November 24, 1999
5:50 a.m.
Mulder stretched contentedly on the soft mattress and stared up at the ceiling. It was still pitch black outside but he wasn't tired. He had just had the best night's sleep that he had had in years. Mulder climbed out of bed and turned on the light. He wondered if Skinner had any coffee in the apartment as he left the bedroom and headed toward the kitchen, dressed only in the sweatpants. Mulder was surprised to find the light on and Skinner sitting at the small breakfast table reading the newspaper.
"Good morning, Walter," Mulder smiled, heading straight for the freshly made pot of coffee, then looking around for the mugs.
"Cabinet next to the sink," Skinner said gruffly. He couldn't take his eyes off Mulder's body. Those perfect, rose colored nipples had him drooling and wanting to … Skinner quickly buried his face in the newspaper and crossed his legs to hide the bulge in his flannel pajama bottoms.
"Thanks," Mulder said, for once he was not at all oblivious to the affect he was having on Skinner. "Are you done with the sports section yet?"
"Yeah, I read that first. Here you are," Skinner said, passing the section to Mulder who sat down across from him.
The two men sat quietly sipping their coffee and reading. Skinner started to relax, enjoying having someone … no, having Mulder in his apartment.
"Did you sleep okay?" Skinner asked, breaking the silence.
"Yes, very well. Hey, Nordstrom's is having a sale tomorrow, I could use some new dress shirts," Mulder said, studying the ad.
Skinner raised his eyebrows and looked at him as if he were nuts. "Mulder, it's the day after Thanksgiving the stores will be crowded."
"I don't care. For some weird reason I feel like shopping and checking out the Christmas displays," Mulder said, giving the Skinner a saucy grin. "Do you want to come along? Maybe we can have your picture taken with Santa."
Mulder's smile was infectious and Skinner found himself smiling back. "Sure, why not. I could use some new, white dress shirts, too. But, I'll pass on sitting on Santa's lap though."
"How about Mrs. Claus's?"
"Mulder," Skinner groaned.
Mulder grinned back at him over his coffee mug.
Skinner was surprised by Mulder's good mood. He really didn't want to ruin it, but he wanted to hear more about Mulder's relationship with Patterson. "Mulder, why don't we take our mugs into the living room and you can finish telling me about your first day at the bureau."
The smile on Mulder's lips disappeared. "Sure, Walter," he said. Their talk yesterday had helped him a lot. Maybe it wouldn't be so difficult to talk about now.
Skinner refilled their mugs and the two men made their way to the sofa. Skinner turned on the gas fireplace and a warm glow filled the living room.
Mulder glanced out the window, it was hard to tell if it had stopped snowing, but there was at least eight inches of snow on the balcony. "What time do we have to leave for your folk's place?"
"We probably should head out before eleven o'clock. With this snow it'll probably take us an extra forty-five minutes to get there," Skinner said, sitting close to Mulder on the sofa. "We'll take my 4 Runner."
"Walter, are you sure your parents won't be a little put out with an unexpected guest?"
"No need to worry, Mulder, I already called my mother this morning and told her you were coming. Now you left off yesterday with getting your first case," Skinner said, nudging Mulder to begin.
"Yeah, my first case and my first lesson in the intolerance and prejudice within the bureau. I was in the conference room reading through the files on each of the five victims when … "
***
Hoover Building
October 24, 1986
4:10 p.m.
Agent Mike Hatter walked over to the table where Mulder sat reviewing the file. He leaned his ass against the table and looked down at Mulder. "Hey, kid. I heard you were talking to that faggot Quentin Statler. A word of advice, kid, stay away from him. We don't like his kind around here and it won't do your career any good to be seen socializing with him."
Mulder's eyes were huge as he looked up at Hatter. "Agent Statler is gay?"
"Flaming. Some fucking profiler you are, kid, not to have picked up on that in the first five seconds of talking to the little fruitcake," Hatter snorted.
"Doesn't the FBI have nondiscrimination policies?" Mulder asked, hating Hatter more by the minute.
"The bureau may officially talk-the-talk, but unofficially it is known that gays are not wanted inside the bureau. Just stay away from Statler, kid, if you want to advance in the FBI or be accepted as one of the guys," Hatter said, looking down at the desk with a suddenly puzzled expression on his old face.
"I have nothing against gays or Agent Statler," Mulder said, trying to ignore Hatter, he opened another manila folder on the latest victim of the serial killer.
Hatter seemed not to hear Mulder as he focused on another problem in front of him. "Where's your note book? Why aren't you writing anything down? Didn't Quantico teach you anything? Kid, it is important to jot down every thought or insight you have as you review the evidence in order to sort it out! So you won't forget something important!" The older agent's voice kept rising as he lectured Mulder.
Mulder blushed as all eyes in the room turned to them. "Agent Hatter, I don't need to take notes, I never forget anything that I see or read. I have an eidetic memory."
"Yeah, right. We'll see about that," Hatter growled and picked up one of the earlier files Mulder had gone through. "Okay, Agent Eidetic *fucking* Memory, what was the address where Carla Sweeney's body was found and her mother's work phone number?"
Mulder looked up at the rude agent and didn't even hesitate as he said, "1430 Hillcrest Avenue, her body was in the backseat of the homeowner's red Ford Mustang license plate number 287 GDO, Carla's mother works for All State Insurance, her phone number is 804 555-2550."
Bill Patterson had walked into the room during the last part of Hatter's rant. "Agent Hatter, don't you have work to do?"
"Yes, Bill. I was just trying to give the kid some pointers," Hatter grumbled.
"Agent Mulder, how are you doing?" Patterson asked, taking Hatter's place leaning up against the table, only he stood quite a bit closer to the young agent.
"Sir, I need more information on the victim's families?" Mulder said.
"What sort of information, Fox?"
"If they had water delivered to their homes or used a water softener that was serviced by the company."
"You think the Culligan man did it?" Patterson pulled up a chair and sat next to Mulder. "Show me how you reached that conclusion, Fox?"
"Sir, I'm not a hundred percent positive," Mulder said, blushing as several of the agents in the room started to gather around the conference table.
"It doesn't matter if you're only five percent sure, go on, son," Patterson coaxed.
"Mary Jo Cathaway and Susan Larson were both taken from their beds in the middle of the night, while their parents were working the late shift. The UNSUB would have had to know the parent's work schedule, and there was no sign of a forced entry so he also had to have a key. People who had water softener tanks delivered to their homes usually gave a copy of their key to the water softener service. Traces of sodium were found on the clothing of Maria Faba and the backseat of the Ford Mustang where Susan Larson's body was found. I believe the UNSUB is a man in his fifties and possibly had a sixteen year old daughter or niece who was murdered or died in the backseat of a Mustang. That would explain why he is placing all of his victim's bodies in Mustangs. He is mad at God for taking his child and is killing the girls out of jealousy, that they should be alive while his daughter was dead. The massive injuries he inflicted on the victims would be similar to what happened to his daughter."
Patterson nodded excitedly. "Mike, I want you to find out if the families were using a water softener company and if they had the same delivery man. Ted, get a list of all the water softener companies in Richmond. Fox, continue reviewing the files in case your theory is off the mark." Patterson knew in his gut that it wasn't. He could already taste the good publicity his department was going to get.
Mulder went quietly back to the files as the other agents scurried off to check the new lead. Patterson came out of his office with Agent Hatter four hours later and they walked back into the conference room.
Patterson was beaming. "Men, good work. Sam G. Hartman has been taken into custody and has already confessed to the murders."
Patterson made his way over to Mulder who was gathering up the case files, while the rest of the agents celebrated the news. Only a couple stopped to thank Mulder for his part in the investigation.
"Agent Mulder, well done. You were right on the mark. Hartman's only daughter was murdered in the backseat of her boyfriend's Mustang in 1977. She had been bludgeoned to death. You will not get official credit for solving this case, but I will make a note of it in your personnel file. Now get your butt out of here, it's been a long day," Patterson said, squeezing Mulder's shoulder.
"Thank you, sir," Mulder said, leaving the room, and heading for his cubicle to collect his briefcase.
Patterson admired Mulder's ass as he left the room. Brains and Beauty what a combination, he thought licking his lips and rubbing his hands together.
***
Viva Tower
Thanksgiving morning
November 24, 1999
9:50 a.m.
"Mulder, you solved the Mustang murders in three hours?" Skinner asked, surprised.
"The team had done most of the leg work before hand. They needed a fresh pair of eyes to look over the evidence again," Mulder said humbly, staring into the fireplace his feet stretched out in front of him.
"That wasn't fair of Patterson not to give you credit for the case," Skinner said, his eyes were focused on Mulder's bare feet. He had never seen a man with nicer looking feet.
"I think I'll gotake a shower and get dressed," Mulder said, standing and stretching.
Skinner watched the cat-like way Mulder's body moved as he left the room. He could tell Mulder wasn't wearing any underwear underneath the sweatpants. His fingers itched to touch that delicious, warm flesh. He wondered if Mulder made sounds during sex. Skinner sighed, that was something he'd never find out. He stood and took the empty coffee mugs into kitchen then headed upstairs to take his own shower.
He sat on his bed thirty-minutes later pulling on his socks. When Mulder knocked on the bedroom door. The young man was dressed in his black suit from yesterday's funeral, and he was carrying his shoes.
"Sorry to disturb you, Walter, but do you have any black shoe polish?"
"You're not disturbing me. There is a shoe shining kit in the closet. I'll get it for you." Skinner hauled out a wooden case with a wooden shoe shape on the top. He opened it and pulled out a polishing cloth, a stiff brush, and black polish. "Put on your shoes, Mulder, I'll polish them for you."
Mulder sat on the bed, put on his shoes, and tied them. Skinner had placed the box next to bed and pulled over a footstool. He sat on the stool and positioned Mulder's foot on the box then he proceeded to expertly polish the young man's shoe.
"You're very good at this, Walter. If your career at the FBI doesn't pan out you can definitely get a job as a shoeshine boy," Mulder quipped.
"Brat," Skinner grinned, up at Mulder and speculated what his brothers and sisters would think of this very beautiful man.
Mulder started chuckling suddenly. "We look like twins, Walter," he said, pointing out that they were both wearing identical black suits with similar ties.
Skinner noticed the similar outfits for the first time as he finished with Mulder's other shoe. "I bet with sunglasses and our overcoats on people will think we are Federal agents," he joked.
"I always wanted to be a Federal agent. I hear they get all the good looking chicks," Mulder said, standing to admire his shoes.
"So why don't you have any, Mulder?"
"Chicks?"
"Yeah?"
"I've had my share of chicks over the years, but I prefer cocks now," Mulder replied walking to the door.
"Cocks, Mulder?" Skinner groaned, rolling his eyes as he sat on the bed and pulled on his shoes.
Mulder stopped in the doorway. "Yeah, but I also have a thing for bald eagles."
Skinner looked up in surprise and met Mulder's eyes, the flirtatious hazel orbs left no doubt in Skinner's mind that Mulder was talking about him. The young man turned and hurried downstairs before Skinner could respond.
Skinner quickly tied his shoes and hurried after Mulder. Mulder stood by the front door, wearing his overcoat, and holding Skinner's coat, which he handed to the larger man. "We don't want to be late," Mulder said quickly, smiling as Skinner took the coat with a very annoyed look on his handsome face. Mulder rambled on not giving Skinner a chance to get a word in. "I wish there was a florist open, I would have liked to bring your mother some flowers."
A light went off behind Skinner's eyes. "Oh, that reminds me. I have four bottles of wine in the kitchen to take along," he said, hurrying to the kitchen and coming back with a paper sack and handing it to Mulder. "Mulder, can you carry these?"
"Sure, Walter."
Skinner opened the front door for Mulder and they headed to the elevator. "It will take us at least three hours to get to my folk's house, so I expect to hear all about the thing you have for bald eagles," he said. "I also want to hear if you went to that party Agent Statler was having, and more about Patterson."
"Walter, I was sort of hoping to hear about your family."
"Mulder, you'll find out about my family soon enough," Skinner said, wondering if Mulder would survive his large family.
***
Nicole it's all yours.