Down Mexico Way
Part 1
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and Walter Skinner et al do not belong to me; they belong to Chris Carter and Fox. I mean no harm and will make no money from their use.
Spoilers: Very slight spoiler for the beginning of the eight season, specifically the first episode. And a bit of a spoiler for "En Ami."
Setting: Seventh Season. Follows episode "En Ami" and falls before the final episode of Season 7 in the series.
Rating: PG. Discipline, no slash.
Summary: Mulder's been hiding a health problem. The AD decides to deal with his deceit, then arranges for Mulder to recuperate in the sunny climes of Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula as the Skinner men take a long-planned fishing holiday.
:
McLean, Virginia
Monday
6:43 p.m.
Walter Skinner listened as Fox Mulder ranted and raved in the next room. He was banging doors and cabinets in the kitchen, muttering angrily to himself, loud enough to be overheard. He'd come home in this humor and Skinner had no trouble discerning why he was so upset. It was a delayed reaction but a strong one nevertheless.
"Completely irresponsible! Is she out of her mind?" he went on talking to himself. "Going off with that cigarette smoking bastard? And did she even think to call me? Or leave a note.... No! Nothing. Not one measly crumb of information! Doesn't even talk to me on the phone when she finally does call. What am I, chopped liver?"
The AD sat by himself in the family room and smiled. He too had been worried when Scully was missing. But on her return she'd explained her decision to go with Spender and, while he didn't fully agree with her choice, she was back and safe. And it wasn't like Skinner hadn't lived through numerous other, similarly questionable choices from another one of his agents over the years. The one banging around in his kitchen at this very moment. At least Scully had made a point of making contact while she was gone.
"What does she think this is? .... What's the point of a partnership if one half of it just goes traipsing off with that bastard without so much as a by your leave? .... Leaves me swingin' in the wind-"
"Fox!" Skinner said as he entered the room. "Enough with the muttering. And the banging. Please."
Mulder had taken a beer out of the refrigerator and now he raised it to his lips and took a long swallow. He smacked his lips when he finished. And he stared at the AD without making a sound. Looking annoyed as hell.
"Really, Fox," the man said with a small smile. "It's not exactly like you own the moral high ground on this issue. How many times have you ditched Scully-"
"That's different!" the younger agent exclaimed. "It's-it's . . . completely different."
Skinner opened the refrigerator door and reached inside, coming out with another cold bottle of beer. He twisted off the top and launched it into the trash can across the kitchen. "How so?"
Mulder grimaced. "It's a totally different thing when I do it. Because . . . because-well, because I'm not the one sitting around with his thumb up his ass waiting, that's why!"
Now the Assistant Director broke out in a wide grin. "Oh. Well. I see what you mean. Completely different." He chuckled and headed back into the family room. "Don't slam another door, Fox. Not if you know what's good for you ...."
Mulder sighed exaggeratedly. Part of his brain knew he was overreacting and had no right to do so. But the rest of his body was on a roll and it felt good to expend the pent up anger and worry. He sighed again and followed Skinner into the family room. The hair standing up on the back of Mulder's neck told him there was a lecture coming. But it was always best to get it over with.
He flung himself into a chair and draped one blue-jeaned leg over the arm. "Okay, Wal-ter. Let's get it over with," he drawled, letting a hint of annoyance creep into his voice.
Skinner's eyebrows rose, partly at the use of his first name. Fox did it occasionally now. Sometimes it was "Walt," like the AD's brothers. "Dad" was used when they were alone and generally signaled that Mulder was feeling insecure about something. "Sir," was the greeting of choice when the two of them were at work... or at home when Fox was in trouble. But "Walter," said with that edge, was the younger man pushing to see how far he would get to go before being hauled back into line.
Skinner's brows arched a little more. "Get what over with?" he said innocently.
"Come on, I know the sound of a 'discussion' coming on. You're pissed at my behavior today with Scully. You think I overreacted and that I was less than kind or forgiving. When she's always been both to me under similar circumstances. You think I acted immature and was disrespectful to you when she was gone, acting like you were somehow to blame because Scully contacted you, not me...." He shook his head and sighed once again. "So go ahead. Let me have it."
Skinner eyed him thoughtfully. "Well that about covers it. Couldn't have said it better myself so... consider it 'discussed'."
Now Mulder's eyebrows rose. "That's it?" he asked warily. "What am I supposed to do now? Ground myself?"
Skinner laughed. "That's hardly necessary. I thought you were a little peevish and decidedly difficult in the last couple of days. And you do owe Scully an apology, in my opinion. But that's between you and her. Nothing you did rises to the level of deserving punishment, Fox. If anything, I think you need and deserve some time off. You look exhausted. And you haven't really been yourself since-"
"I'm fine," Mulder cut him off. "Really. I was just worried, that's all. About Scully-"
"No, Fox, what I'm talking about predates this incident. You've been pushing yourself too hard at work, ever since your ...return to adulthood. And not sleeping as well as you should-"
"Nobody could sleep as much as you think I should," Mulder grinned, trying to sidestep this conversation. "Nobody over the age of three anyway!"
Skinner gave him a look that mimicked annoyance and Mulder wasn't certain whether it was the real thing so he shut up.
"I don't expect you to sleep for twelve hours every night," the AD said seriously. "I do think you ought to sleep until you're rested. And you're definitely not lately. You look haggard and drawn, you have shadows under your eyes. And you've lost some weight . . . "
"I've been running a lot. I always lose weight when I run a lot-"
"Well I'm all for exercise but you must be overdoing it. Or not eating enough."
"You and the eating thing again! You'd think you had nothing on your mind but my nutritional intake," Mulder answered, letting his own annoyance out into the open. "Really. I was taking care of myself for a long time before you came along and I did okay...."
Skinner didn't respond, he just watched the younger man for a long moment.
"All right, well maybe I didn't do OKAY. But I survived...." Mulder said finally. He shook his head and shrugged. "Okay, so I basically only luck and the fact the devil doesn't want me kept body and soul together but my point is ...." He stopped and smiled sheepishly. "I forget exactly what my point was, to be honest."
The AD nodded and stood up. "I'll make you a sandwich."
"I don't want a sandwich," Mulder said, following him into the kitchen. "I just want to fill you in on the little progress I'm making trying to track down CGB and have another beer. Then I'm going home to my place-"
"If you have another beer, you're sleeping here," Skinner said firmly. "Between being exhausted and having two beers, you're not gonna be in any condition to drive, Fox."
Mulder sighed and slipped a bottle of beer out of the fridge before Skinner closed it. "Okay. But I'm not hungry. I ate lunch at-" he glanced at his watch. "At one o'clock."
"And it's nearly eight o'clock now," the older man replied as he sliced a role and piled on some roast beef. Then he put some mayo on the top of the roll and placed it on top of the meat. He placed the plate in front of Fox, who had seated himself at the kitchen counter and was taking a long slug of beer at the very moment. "So have you made any progress on finding Spender?"
Mulder shook his head in annoyance. "The guy's like smoke," he said angrily. "I mean no one can find him. I guess your contacts turned up dry too, huh?"
Skinner nodded almost imperceptibly. "I haven't kept those lines open in recent years," he said quietly. "It was hard to find him before. Usually, he found me. Now it's impossible." He noticed Fox had picked up the sandwich and was taking a big bite despite his protest about not being hungry. So the Assistant Director determined that he'd keep Fox focused on the case of Spender, and why he'd taken Scully away then returned her, until the sandwich was gone. "I've been trying everything I know but Spender doesn't get found if he doesn't want to be found. Do you have any idea why he lured Scully away with him?"
Mulder shook his head vehemently. "She says he just wanted to show her things. The things she told us about. And she thinks he wanted her to see-I don't know! That he's really a caring, upstanding guy, or some such crap!" He put the sandwich to his mouth and tore off another bite angrily.
"Well, Scully's too smart to fall for that," Skinner soothed him. "She may think she got a glimpse of the tormented soul inside him but.... We know her better than that. Her innate skepticism will surface in no time."
Mulder took another bite and washed it down with some more beer. "It just makes me crazy! To think she let herself be taken by him. I mean, all the things he could have done to her! And I might never have seen her again-I mean, we might never have gotten her back, safely. It was just so reckless. Not like Scully at all...."
"I agree. But we all do things out of character now and then, kid," Skinner said, taking the plate away now that the sandwich had been consumed. "Even you, occasionally...." He smiled to himself as he turned away to put the plate in the dishwasher.
Mulder polished off the remainder of his beer and stood up. "Well, there's nothing more I can do tonight. The Gunmen are working their kung fu but so far, zip. And every Bureau resource is working on it too. The Yankees are on tonight." He wandered into the family room off the kitchen and clicked the remote to turn on the TV. Skinner thought internally that Fox wouldn't be able to stay awake through the game and he was more than right. Within a half hour, the younger man was peacefully snoring on the couch.
The AD waited another hour, until he was sure Fox was in a deep sleep, before waking him gently. He got himself a beer from the refrigerator, then settled back down in his own chair before acting. "Fox," he said quietly, in his most paternal tone. "You'll be better off in your own bed. Why don't you head on upstairs?"
Mulder's eyes blinked open and he listened, slack-jawed. He was so obviously tired, his whole brain didn't click into gear which was exactly what Skinner expected. Instead he sat up and tried to shake off the deep sleep, with no success.
"Head on up to bed now, son" the AD said a little more authoritatively. "Good night, Fox."
Mulder nodded sleepily. "Good night, Dad," he said. Then he stumbled out of the room and upstairs.
The AD listened as he and Yoda entered the first bedroom and the door closed behind them. Skinner smiled and lifted the beer. He toasted himself with a smile. "I award that round to you, Skinner!"
When he awoke in the morning though, he was greeted by a surprising note in the kitchen.
"I got an early start," it read. "I let Yoda out already. But I thought of something last night that I have to check out. Before it's too late. I'll check in with you later."
Skinner was caught flat-footed. He himself was an early riser, crack of dawn. How early had Fox gotten up anyway? He hadn't even heard him and that was unusual for the AD who generally woke at the first unexpected sound in the house. He saw Fox hadn't fixed himself any breakfast or even made coffee so he put on a pot for himself, before heading up to shower and get dressed.
Skinner asked Kim to track down Agent Mulder as soon as she arrived but he didn't actually see the younger agent until late in the afternoon. There was a meeting of a joint task force on which Mulder and Scully had been serving, along with Bureau personnel from a half dozen other departments and a few other law enforcement agencies. There was a serial killer loose in the Midwest and, while there were no X-Files elements to the case, it was close to one Mulder had profiled when he was with VCU. And Skinner had assigned Scully to the Task Force as well, as much to keep an eye on Fox as to handle any autopsies that came long. Mulder generally reacted badly to these kinds of cases and lately he seemed more high-strung than usual.
It was not unexpected really. Having gone through the experience of reliving his childhood on speed. Then reverting so violently to adulthood. Losing his mother, his one surviving relative, not long after. It was a wonder the younger man functioned at all, Skinner thought as he listened to Mulder's recitation of the significant similarities between the earlier case and this one.
Skinner was a little worried when he saw Mulder reach for the glass of water on the table in front of him several times during his presentation. He drained the glass and Scully surreptitiously refilled it for him and he reached for it again in another minute. She looked over to Skinner for a brief second and the AD could see she was worried too.
"This could be a copy cat but-Some of these similarities were elements that were never released to the public at any time. And the ritualistic nature of the crimes, the intricate pattern of victims and locations, has the same feel as the first string of murders-"
"But the perp that you arrested the first time is still in jail," a detective from Chicago interrupted. "Are you saying you got the wrong guy back then?"
"No. I'm not saying that at all," Mulder replied immediately. "We got the right guy-"
"Then you're saying this perp manages to get out of a high-security jail cell, kill people and get back inside before anyone notices he's gone?" the SAC of the St. Louis Office cut him off. Tony Adler's words were only slightly this side of mocking. "No wonder you nicknamed him "the Magician."
Mulder colored and it looked like his blood pressure was rising. Tony Adler, a former protégé of Skinner's, had that effect on him generally. "I didn't give him that name. The press did," he responded more defensively than necessary.
Skinner rose. "Enough. Agent Mulder, are there any other points of similarity, or dissimilarity, that you want the team to know about?"
Mulder took another sip from the water glass in front of him. "Well, there is something different this time. But it may not be important. All the crimes took place during the Spring before. Between April 21 and June 21, the official beginning and end dates of Spring. But this time, the first murder took place during Easter week. And this year Easter fell before the official start of Spring-"
"Ah, but you're forgetting Spring Break," Adler crowed. "Or perhaps that doesn't hold the same memories for Spooky Mulder as it does for normal people-"
A ripple of laughter ran through the room and Skinner cut it off with a hard stare that he let tour the room. "All right, people," he said. "We have at least four victims. There's nothing funny about that...." He let his darkest glare fall on SAC Adler. "And if anyone has a problem understanding that, I'll be happy to reassign them to something you'll find hilarious."
The room quieted immediately and Skinner saw with satisfaction that Adler turned purple and reached up to loosen his tie. The AD pressed his lips together, pleased with himself.
"Thank you, Agent Mulder," he said. "Now if there's nothing else, we have a great deal of legwork to do. Agent Carney will conclude the briefing with assignments. We'll meet again next week, but in the meantime, I expect to see progress on this case, people. We are the best law enforcement has to offer and I want whoever's responsible for these murders found before anyone else dies."
He exited the room and saw without looking that Mulder and Scully were behind him. They were consulting on this case, not part of the actual investigation. Skinner headed for the elevator at the end of the hallway and pressed the 'up' button. "Agent Mulder, I'd like to see you in my office," he said turning back and expecting to see the other agents directly behind him. Instead, though, he saw Mulder leaning against the wall, Scully holding on to his right arm as though she were propping him up. Before Skinner could say anything, the younger agent sank to his knees, then slowly slid down until he was lying on his side in the hallway.
"Fox!" Skinner exclaimed as he watched Scully use her hands to keep his head from hitting the tile floor too hard.
Scully looked up at Skinner. "Call 911," she said quickly. "Please! His skin's clammy and cold-"
"No," Mulder protested weakly. "I'll be o--okay. I just need to... rest-"
"You need to rest on the floor of the Hoover building?" Scully cut him off. "I don't think so."
Skinner was already on his cell phone, asking for an ambulance ASAP while he pulled off his suit jacket. He disconnected as soon as he was certain it was on its way and knelt down beside Fox who was struggling to get up. Skinner put a hand on his chest, then pushed his folded up jacket under the younger agent's head. "Stay down," he said. "You don't look like you could walk under your own power."
"I-I'm fine," Mulder said although even he didn't sound convinced. He closed his eyes and attempted to take a deep breath. It was ragged and Scully and Skinner exchanged a worried look.
"Do you have pain anywhere, Mulder?" Scully asked him softly.
He shook his head, then seemed to think better of making any motion at all. "No," he answered, barely able to be heard. "Just a little lightheaded. It w-will pass...."
A small crowd had gathered and now a security officer cut through the group and motioned for Skinner. "Ambulance is on its way, sir," Jefferson Kincaid said when Skinner rose. "We're holding an elevator in the lobby and will get them up here as soon as they arrive."
"Thanks, Jeff," Skinner replied. "Can you disperse this crowd? We don't need an audience."
"Sure can, sir," the tall black man said. He was a former football player and used his size to good effect. "Let's move it on, ladies and gentlemen," he announced to the crowd as he began using his presence to push them back. "Nothing to see here. Let's keep it moving."
In another minute the elevator doors flew open and a team of paramedics pushed their gurney into the hallway. Kincaid pointed them to Mulder and they were there and setting up inside of thirty seconds. Scully gave them a brief medical rundown of his current condition and history, glossing over the recent second childhood with a reference to significant medical trauma last December, from which he'd recovered. The paramedics began taking vitals and radioed their base for instructions when they saw the results.
"You eat anything strange today, buddy?" one paramedic asked Mulder.
Mulder shook his head slightly. "Nothing."
"What did you eat, Mulder?" Scully broke in. "Maybe something was bad. This could be food poisoning. Or a food reaction...."
"No. I didn't have anything unusual-"
"What did you eat, Agent Mulder?" the AD said firmly. "Answer the question."
Mulder's eyes flew open briefly and then he grimaced. "Sunflower seeds," he said quietly. "Coffee. Some water. Nothing that would m-make me sick-"
"Not eating all day can make you lightheaded," a paramedic said unnecessarily. "Shouldn't bring down a healthy man your age though."
The dispatcher broke in on the radio before anyone else could speak.
"Bring him in," the voice said. "Georgetown's waiting...."
"No," Skinner cut in. "If he's stable, he needs to go to Johns Hopkins. They're familiar with his recent ... medical history." Scully's mouth had been open and she'd been planning to say the same thing.
"No can do," the head paramedic said. "We're not authorized to go there."
"You just get him ready," Skinner replied, rising to his feet and pulling out his cell phone. "I'll have that authorization before you're ready to go." He punched a few numbers into his phone and stepped down the hallway.
The paramedics both shook their heads and began preparing Mulder for transport. But when they tried to lift him onto the gurney, he resisted. "No," he said weakly. "I don't need a hospital. I just need to go home...."
"Mulder you need to go. This is serious," Scully said.
"Well, then Georgetown's fine. They... know me pretty well there, too."
Scully bit back a smile. "Yeah. They do. But it's Johns Hopkins, partner. Don't even think you can change Skinner's mind about that one."
Johns Hopkins Medical Center
Baltimore, Maryland
7:12 p.m.
Skinner and Scully were sitting in the emergency room waiting area. They'd spent countless hours at this medical facility in the past year but mostly in the pediatric unit. This was a change of pace, if not a welcome one.
"What's taking so long," Skinner asked for the fourth time as he rose and took a few steps across the room. He'd been pacing off and on for the better part of an hour now.
"Well, Dr. Cahill's in there with Mulder now. He saw him through all of the time he was a kid again. And his reversion to adulthood. He's the best person to-" She stopped and stood as the subject of her words strode through the entrance to the room.
"He's all right," Cahill said quickly. "He's stable and resting. We've got him on an IV though and he needs to stay for the night, at least. We'll do some more tests tomorrow and then I'll know a little more."
"What caused this?" Skinner asked him immediately. "He's been looking exhausted. And been out of sorts-"
"Well, I'm not surprised," the physician said. He rubbed the back of his neck and paused as though he were considering his words carefully. Then he sat down and motioned for Skinner to sit by Scully. "It's time for me to say something. I've been telling Mulder but doctor-patient confidentiality-"
"Doctor, if there's something we need to know-" Skinner interjected.
"Well, I think it's reached a point where Mulder's fitness for duty is questionable," the doctor said slowly. "So I'm comfortable telling you what I've been telling him. His red blood cell count is extremely low. Has been since the physical trauma of his sudden spurt back into adulthood. It was under control when he was getting the serum regularly. But when he took the wrong one and put his body through the tremendous strain of aging nearly 20 years in an hour or so, it had a physical impact on him. It stressed all his body's systems to the point they nearly gave out."
Both Skinner and Scully remembered the situation the doctor was describing. Too well. Mulder's heart had nearly failed during his reversion.
Cahill sighed. "His blood count never returned to normal after he was an adult again. But it stayed relatively the same. Last time he came in-and I'm sure I don't have to tell you how hard it was to get him here! The last time his count had dropped precipitously. I told him he needed to take some time off. Get some rest. Maybe take a long, relaxing vacation. At that point, I thought he just needed to build up his strength. Now, though, he needs treatment first. We're transfusing a couple of units of blood now. We'll see what that does by tomorrow...."
Skinner sat back on the hard plastic chair. He was shocked and angry that Mulder had never confided any of this information. He looked at Scully and saw she was as stunned and annoyed as he was.
"He wants to be released-" Cahill continued. "But I don't think it's advisable."
"He'll stay," both Scully and Skinner said in unison.
The doctor grinned. "That's what I thought you'd say. They're moving him up to a room now. Under strong protest, I might add."
"Scully, you go quell the rebellion," Skinner said. "I have some phone calls to make. I'll be there in about an hour."
When he arrived at Mulder's new room, though, Scully had already gone. Mulder's eyes were closed so Skinner entered quietly. One of the young man's eyes opened and then closed again. He sighed dramatically. "If you've come to hand me my head, don't bother. Scully beat you to it."
Skinner nodded and took a seat in the chair next to the hospital bed. "Did she blister your butt for you, too?"
Both of Mulder's eyes flew open in indignation. "N-no! Of course not!" he sputtered.
Skinner smiled at him. "Good. Then there's something left for me to do."
Mulder's eyes widened with alarm, then glanced down at his own hands and began chewing on his lower lip.
"Fox," Skinner said warningly. "Look at me."
Mulder exhaled forcefully, then he looked up to meet the AD's gaze.
"Worry about the consequences later, okay? Right now the important thing is for you to get better-"
"Why consequences?" Mulder exclaimed suddenly. "I didn't do anything wrong-"
"Are you kidding me?" Skinner answered calmly. "Disregarding your health-"
"We never talked about that! That's not a rule! It's disregarding my own SAFETY you're always ragging me about!"
Skinner glared at him and it had the intended effect. Mulder shut up immediately and dropped his eyes so that he was staring at his hands again.
"Don't even try to convince me you didn't understand your health, and your safety, are the same thing," Skinner said sternly. "Or else I may just have to deliver those consequences right here and now."
Mulder grunted but the AD couldn't tell if it was a protest, or a concession.
"Do you understand me, son? You couldn't even stay on your feet today. You certainly couldn't have helped yourself if you ran into trouble on the job. And you would have been useless as back-up for Scully in that condition...." He saw Mulder swallow hard and shut his eyes tightly. Skinner knew he was holding back tears. "Do you understand why--"
"There's still so much to do!" Fox answered passionately. "That sonofabitch Spender's still out there! Toying with us! And the 'Spring Fling Killer' is still out there - or some copycat! Either way people are dying-"
"And we have lots of qualified people to work on both of those cases," Skinner told him gently. "Right now the only thing you have to do is get well. And I'm gonna make sure you do.... if it kills you, kid."
Mulder snorted, a half laughing, half-sobbing sound. He took a deep breath and let it go resolutely.
"I guess I don't have anything to say about it, do I?" he conceded.
"No," the older man answered definitively. Mulder eyed him out of the corner of his eye, trying to see whether he was actually serious.
"I-you're exaggerating a little, right?"
Skinner's eyes twinkled but his words were firm and unrelenting. "How long have you known me, Fox? Have you ever heard me exaggerate?"
Mulder let his prodigious memory go wild but the fact was, he couldn't come up with one instance that he could say applied. "No. Sir," he said glumly.
Skinner gave him a sympathetic smile, reached over and tousled his hair. "Good answer, kid." He reached over the bed rail and pulled the covers up over the newly chastised younger man. "Get some sleep, Fox. The doctor says they may let you out of here tomorrow if you behave. And your tests come back okay."
Mulder reluctantly slid down further into the bed. "I didn't need any tests-"
Skinner gave him a look that would shatter glass.
"I mean-I didn't...," the younger man shifted verbal gears immediately. "I didn't know they might let me out tomorrow....." He gave the AD a small, tentative smile that he hoped would be disarming.
Skinner grinned at him. "Nice try, kid," he said, reaching over and tousling his hair. He leaned over and gave Mulder a quick brush of a kiss on his forehead. "Get some sleep."
Mulder remained hospitalized for two more days, over his strong and vocal protests. Scully spent a good part of both days with him and her mother dropped in as well. Andy and Eileen visited, along with their parents. Joe and Nora called several times and Rachel and Walter, Sr. made a round-trip journey to see their wayward "grandson." The older man delivered the same lecture Fox had heard from the AD, almost word for word. This time Mulder didn't protest, he just listened in remorseful silence. He really did feel bad about worrying the older couple.
But the AD only called over the next two days, choosing to let the others use his time during visiting hours apparently. At first Fox was relieved but soon he began to worry about the lack of attention from Skinner. Scully drove him home on the morning he was released and, despite his request to go to his own place in Alexandria, she delivered him to the McLean house.
"Skinner told me where, Mulder," Scully said with a smile. "Unlike you, I don't usually feel the need to buck him." As instructed, she heated up soup for his lunch. Rachel Skinner had delivered a large pot of her famous borscht when she visited, guessing Fox would be home recuperating for at least a little while. It was wonderful and there was home made black bread to go with it. Sated and sleepy, Mulder barely protested when Scully suggested he take a nap.
When he woke again, it was dark outside and Skinner's jeep was in the driveway. And Scully's car was not. Mulder sighed heavily as he stared out the window. Yoda had been sleeping at the foot of Mulder's bed and now the dog jumped down and ran in a circle, a signal he needed to go out. The young man swallowed his apprehension and headed downstairs.
"H-hi," Mulder said as he entered the kitchen. He went right to the sliding glass door and opened it. Yoda bounded out into the yard and Mulder left the door slightly ajar for him.
"Hi yourself," Skinner replied as he hung up the phone he'd been speaking into when Mulder appeared. "I just ordered ribs and chicken for dinner. Should be here in about thirty minutes."
Mulder nodded.
"Did you get some rest? You were out cold when I looked in on your before," the AD continued in a normal tone of voice.
Mulder was having trouble reading him now. He expected the other man was angry and that was why he hadn't visited the hospital. But it didn't seem that way now. The younger man nodded again.
Skinner watched him carefully, not certain what was wrong. "Why don't you go inside and relax?" he suggested. "I want to talk to you anyway."
*Uh-oh, here it comes* Mulder nodded one more time, this time it was barely noticeable. He headed into the family room and took a seat on the sofa. There was an afghan thrown over the back and he instinctively grabbed and he balled it up and pulled it into his mid-section, using it as a kind of security blanket.
Skinner appeared a moment later and placed a glass of apple juice in front of him. "I thought you might be thirsty." He didn't bother to note that Mulder had been left with a residual taste for the stuff after his recent second childhood. The AD knew the younger man would probably really prefer a beer right now but this had nutritional value and ... it was all he was gonna get at the moment.
Mulder grimaced at first, not because he didn't like apple juice but because he recognized what it meant. That Skinner thought he was still sick and needed to be fed something nutritious. Next thing the older man would be sending him to off to bed.... *Wait, jerk! That actually could happen!!!* He took a sip of the juice and waited.
Skinner watched him for a moment, without saying a word. "Fox-" he began, only to be interrupted.
"I know, I know! I'm in trouble. I-I should have told you. And Scully. But-"
"There's no 'buts' about it, Fox," the AD cut him off. "You had a serious medical condition. Your doctor had been warning you about pushing yourself. And you didn't even bother to tell me-"
"Well, you would have made me.... I mean, you wouldn't have.... Oh, hell! You know!" the younger man sputtered indignantly.
"Yeah, I know," Skinner answered very deliberately. "I would have made you slow down. I would have made you take time off, if that's what your doctor said you needed-"
"I can't afford to take any more time off!" Mulder shouted, coming to a standing position. "I lost so much time last year when I was a kid again. And there's so much I still need to know!"
"Sit down, Fox," Skinner told him firmly.
"NO! I DON'T WANT TO SIT DOWN! I DON'T WANT TO BE SICK! .... They're closing in on us, can't you see that? The FBI brass. And their auditors! And bean-counters. You know as well as I do they're targeting the X-Files. If I can't get some proof...."
"FOX WILLIAM! SIT DOWN!"
Mulder stopped short, then he bit his lip as if her were forcibly trying to keep the rest of the words from erupting. His hands went to his hips and he stood there, defiantly, for another moment before the fight inside him fled and he sat down heavily. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered, sounding defeated. "It's just that I'm running out of time. And I still have n-nothing...."
Skinner rose and took two steps over to his side. He sat down on the couch beside the younger man and put his arm around Fox's shoulders. "We've been through audits before, kid," he said quietly. "This is just another one...."
"No," Fox answered, instinctively leaning into the hug. "I don't think so. Not this time. It feels... like they're gonna win this round.... And this might be the last round...."
Skinner sighed and pulled him closer, tightening the embrace in which he held Fox. "I-You can't go changing the subject like that, pal," he said, trying to bring them back to the topic on which he'd begun. "I'm angry with you, you know. I don't care what's going on at the Bureau, it doesn't excuse you ignoring a health problem-"
Fox sat back and looked at the other man sheepishly. "I know. I'm still in trouble, huh?"
"Well, yeah," Skinner smiled.
"But I'm... sick," Mulder said quietly, his tone of voice flitting around the edges of a whine.
"Yes, you are," the AD agreed.
"I guess being sick is punishment in and of itself...," the younger man said, holding his breath.
Skinner grinned over his head, trying not to laugh out loud. Mulder was unbelievably transparent at these moments. "When did I say that? We'll deal with your punishment later-"
"Oh, come on!" Fox blurted out, pushing back out of the embrace. "I hate it when you do that. Tell me I'm gonna get it, and make me wait. You know I hate that!"
"Fox, it can wait. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about-"
"No, it can't wait! I'll - I won't be able to think about anything except... you know. Can't we just get it over with now. Please!"
Skinner shook his head and Fox responded by raising the ante. "Oh, come on! I won't get well, I'll be sick with worry," he pleaded. It had occurred to him the AD might go easier on him now than later and he wanted to take advantage of whatever sympathy the other man might be feeling for him.
"Fox-" Skinner began again, only to stop himself. He did know how much Fox hated waiting for punishment. And while he recognized there might be an ulterior motive here, he himself wanted to get it over with. He made a quick decision. "All right. Go get the paddle."
Mulder's eyes widened. He had been counting on getting this over with. And getting off easy, given he was not completely well. He thought about offering to wait now but ... the truth was, he really did hate waiting for punishment. He sighed and stood up, then headed into the kitchen.
Skinner had watched as one expression followed another across the young man's face. He smiled at the back of the retreating figure. *You have to get up pretty early to put something like that by me, Fox.... My Dad didn't raise no fools!*
"I'm sorry I ever made this thing," Mulder grumbled as he walked back into the family room and handed the home-made wooden paddle to Skinner.
"As I recall, you didn't have much choice," the AD said agreeably. "Pants down. Bend over the table by the window, son."
"Can I put the shade down first?" Fox whined, his voice rising with worry.
"Be my guest," Skinner replied. He'd been about to lower it himself anyway. "I don't know if I ever told you this, Fox, but you did a mighty good job on this paddle. The edges are perfectly rounded, the finish is beautiful...."
Mulder grimaced. He'd done a good job because Skinner had been looking over his shoulder every step of the way as he made it. He'd been a teenager then and he hated to be paddled with an implement he'd made himself. He didn't like it any better now. He finished lowering his jeans and shorts and leaned forward over the table with another heavy sigh.
"What's this punishment for, Fox?" Skinner asked him as he delivered the first whack to the perfectly presented buttocks.
"OWW! For not taking care of my health!" Fox yelped immediately. The paddle smacked his backside again. "OUCCHHH!"
"This is one you need to learn, Fox. (SMACK) Once and for all. (SMACK) You don't ignore your health (SMACK) EVER!" (SMACK)
"Okay! Okay! I OHHH! I got it! OUUCCH!"
"Uh-huh. How come I think (SMACK) we've talked about this before?"
"I pr-promise, I got it this time!"
Skinner whacked his butt a half dozen more times just to make sure, then he dropped the paddle on the table over which Mulder was leaning. Fox sobbed one more time, then he stood and began pulling up his jeans and shorts.
"Not yet," Skinner told him firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder and propelling him away from the table and toward the side chair.
"Wh-what now?" Fox asked, surprise underscoring his words.
"We've got more than that to deal with, son," Skinner told him succinctly as he sat down and pointed at the floor next to his legs. "What else do you deserve to be punished for?"
Mulder realized immediately there was a spanking coming and he bit down on his lower lip to keep from sobbing. It only served to muffle the sound a bit. "I-I-that's not fair! You already punished me!"
"For not taking care of your health," the AD said sternly. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor beside him one more time. "There's something else we have to deal with, and it's just as important."
Mulder stifled a sob and sank to his knees, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew what it was and he'd hoped that Skinner would overlook it. Or consider it a part of the transgression for which he'd just been paddled. The younger man let the AD guide him over the older man's legs and then he yelped when his butt received the first, hard smack.
"What's this spanking for, Fox?" Skinner asked, smacking his bottom sharply a few more times.
"For not-not telling you OWW! That I was sick! For keeping OUCH! For keeping it a secret! I'm s-sorry! OOHHH! YEOWW! I'm sorry!"
"I know you're sorry," Skinner said succinctly, issuing a half dozen more smacks to the upturned, reddening butt cheeks. "Now. I want to impress this on you for good, young man. Serious health issues are not to be kept secret from me. Do you understand?"
"Yes! OWW! Yes! YES, SIR! I UNDERSTAND! AHH! OUCHH! I UNDERSTAND! I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN! I PROMISE! I WON'T KEEP ANY HEALTH ISSUES SECRET FROM YOU EVER!" Mulder was now sobbing and babbling promises, a sign the lesson had hit home. Skinner gave him one additional slap, then he reached up and began rubbing the young man's back soothingly.
"It's all right, son," he said quietly. "It's over." He let Mulder slide back off his legs, and on to his own knees. Then he gathered the weeping younger agent into his arms and stroked the back of his head gently. "It's okay, Fox. I just want to make sure you understand this, once and for all. You are family to me. The closest thing I'll ever have to a son. Your health and welfare are as important to me as my own, kid, ,maybe even more important. If you're sick or hurt, I want to know about it."
Mulder sobbed once more and buried his head in the AD's shoulder. But he nodded his understanding while his tears continued to set the front of the other man's white dress shirt. Skinner held him for a few more minutes, letting him get it out and begin to calm down. Then he let Mulder pull up his shorts and jeans and sit beside him on the couch.
The AD pressed his lips together to keep from smiling as Mulder winced dramatically when his butt hit the couch. He knew he'd delivered a sound lesson but not one that would elicit that reaction. Even at these moments, Fox had a tendency to go for dramatic effect. Skinner reached over and brushed back the wet hair that fell over the younger man's forehead, then he cupped his hand around Mulder's chin and silently insisted on his attention.
"I love you, kid," he said. "And because of that, I won't let you think it's okay to ignore your health. Or fail to let me, and Scully, know when you're sick or injured. This is important and I want to make sure you understand it completely."
Fox blinked back additional tears that suddenly stung the back of his eyes. "Yes, sir," he said.
"So. Anything else you want to share?" Skinner asked him pointedly.
Mulder bit down on his lower lip and sighed loudly. "Well, there is one other thing. I've been having some leg cramps when I run. The doctor says I have to eat more bananas."
Skinner blinked, then bit down on his own lower lip to keep from laughing. "Okay," he said quietly, trying to take it as seriously as the younger man seemed to be.
"And ... I've got this little rash-"
Skinner dropped his hand from Mulder's face. "Okay, amended rule. You can keep news about rashes to yourself.... Unless they're life threatening, okay?" he said lightly, rising and heading into the kitchen. He couldn't help smiling.
Mulder leaned back on the couch, a small smile forming on his lips. In a moment, the AD was back with a glass of orange juice. He took the younger man's hand and plopped two little pills into it, then he put the glass in his other hand.
"A multi-vitamin and a potassium supplement," Skinner said. "From now on, you take one of each every day. And I'll get some bananas...." He smiled fondly at the young man he'd come to think of as a son. "And just to make sure we're on the same page here, anything life threatening, including rashes, I'm gonna hear about as soon as you do. Else you'll spend every day of your very limited life expectancy standing up. Got it?"
Mulder grinned despite himself. "Yes, sir," he said. "I think I've got it."
"Now, what I wanted to talk you about is this. Your doctor says you need a rest, and I've been planning a trip to Mexico for a number of years. To do some deep-sea fishing. Somehow circumstances kept getting in the way...."
Mulder knew those "circumstances" were mostly him and he nodded.
"So, I pulled a trip together. I've rented a villa by the sea just outside of Playa del Carmen. My Dad's up to the trip now, his doc says his heart's almost as good as new. Joe can get away because the semester just ended. And Andy's got some vacation time coming. Mike's out of school and doesn't start his summer job for a couple of weeks so.... we're all going to Mexico."
"I can't go to Mexico!" Fox blurted out, rising to his feet. "I-I have to get back to work-"
"What did I just say? The doctor says you need a rest and that you can't go back to work for at least two weeks-"
"But that doesn't mean I have to-I mean, I always went to work before when .... I mean-" he stammered, watching Skinner's face darken with each syllable. "I-I could work from home...."
"No. You can't. You need a rest. And Dr. Cahill said sun and sea and good food would be nice complements to that prescription, Fox."
"But-"
"No buts about it," Skinner said with finality, heading out of the room. "Not if you don't want me to wear out yours....."
Mulder grimaced at the bad pun and threw himself down on the couch. "Oww!" he hissed as his sore butt took the impact of his fit of temper. "You're a moron, Mulder! And soon you'll be a fishing moron...!" He grimaced at the very thought of spending hours staring at a fishing pole, waiting for some dumb fish to decide it was suicidal.
Skinner went upstairs, directly to the extra room he used as an office. He pulled his laptop computer out of its carrying case and put it on the desk, plugging it in and then dialing in to his personal e-mail account. He typed in an e-mail address he'd memorized and then moved to the body of the message. "Go," he typed in, then he hit the send button and shut the computer down.
A little while later, after he and Mulder had had a quiet dinner, Skinner suggested the younger man go to bed. And reminded him he needed to pack for their trip the next morning. He knew from experience Fox would not go right to sleep, that he'd turn on the television and plug in his computer and begin surfing the net and checking his e-mail, while cruising the 114 channels on cable. No one could multi-task better than Mulder when he was bored. Skinner waited a half hour, then decided to head to bed himself.
He knocked on the door to Fox's room. "Don't stay up too late," he admonished, sticking his head in. "Our flight leaves first thing in the morning."
Mulder looked up distractedly. "Huh? Oh, okay," he said. "I-I'm sorry about before. Actually, I really do want to go to Mexico. It sounds like a great place to get some rest."
Skinner tried to look surprised. "Oh? Well, good, I'm glad you've come around. Good night, kid." He closed the door and pumped his arm silently before going to the office once more. He dialed into his e-mail and saw there was a message waiting for him. "Dangled the bait," it read succinctly. Skinner smiled. He hit "Reply" and typed in "Bait has been taken. Thank you for the assistance," before shutting down and going to bed.
In his room, Mulder reached for a sunflower seed and chewed on it thoughtfully as he reviewed the material he'd received that evening. Evidence of recent alien activity had surfaced in Tulum, Mexico, not far from Playa del Carmen. "What are the odds?" he whispered to himself as he reread the e-mail from the Lone Gunmen. "That's exactly where I'm going. I don't know why Skinner doesn't like you guys. You always come through for me."
The next day
Delta Flight #173
En route to Mexico
They'd had to rise before dawn to make the early morning flight, something that never sat well with Mulder. He didn't sleep well generally but far better since Skinner had begun to take a hand in his personal life. And he always slept well after a spanking. But with his health less than robust, the young agent's body cried out for more rest as a means of healing itself. So getting up at 4 a.m. had been painful for Mulder. And painful for Skinner by extension.
"Oh, great. Snack mix!" Mulder grumbled out loud in his window seat, intent on being heard by his traveling companion. "Whatever happened to peanuts? Or pretzels even? I mean this entire bag has two pretzels and three peanuts in it that are worth ingesting. The rest of this stuff is refuse from someone's kitchen! Look at this, croutons! Who the hell eats croutons anyway? And what the hell are these things?" He held up an innocuous looking but unidentifiable item from the bag he'd opened.
In the aisle seat beside him, Skinner bit his tongue, trying not to react. Mulder had been whining and complaining since the AD woke him and it had only gotten worse as the day wore on. He was on the verge of buying Mulder a drink of some kind of hard liquor in the hopes it would knock him out for the flight. It was either that, or clocking him upside the head when no one was looking. The flight attendant appeared as this thought began to take form in his brain.
"Do people actually LIKE this crap?" Mulder asked her before the poor woman got a word out.
"Well, no," she replied with a smile. "We get complaints from passenger all the time. But we had to stop peanuts because so many people have allergies. Still, pretzels were a lot more popular...."
Mulder was momentarily disarmed. He'd been about to go through is litany of complaints but she'd obviously already heard it.
"Well, we'll muddle through with this," Skinner broke in. "Until you serve lunch anyway. I'd like a cup of coffee."
"I'd like a beer," Mulder said, earning himself a hard stare from Skinner. He swallowed, then backed away from the edge of disaster just a little. "But I'll settle for an orange juice. And you can take this back," he sniffed, handing the open bag of snack mix to the flight attendant. She had nowhere to put it on her cart so she stuck it in the pocket of her apron, her smile still at full-wattage. The Assistant Director admired her patience. His own was wearing very thin.
"Do you have any aspirin with you?" Mulder asked Skinner suddenly. "It feels like there's an entire rhythm section in my head. And getting up in the middle of the damn night didn't help...."
Skinner nodded and reached for his carry-on bag under the seat. The headache was a symptom of Mulder's condition and he reminded himself once again that Mulder was a rotten patient even in the best of circumstances. He pulled a plastic bag from the outside pocket, thinking it contained some packets of aspirin and other medicines. But the Zip-Lok bag held a supply of Cheerios cereal instead. Skinner realized it must have been left there since Fox was very small.... Which was only a year and a half earlier.
"Oh, you have a baby!" the flight attendant exclaimed as she put a glass of orange juice on Mulder's tray. "I carried those with me everywhere when my son was little. They're a lifesaver!"
Skinner pressed his lips together and nodded, not sure how to answer. "Well, yes," he said, glancing at Fox for a split second. "He's kind of a big baby now...." He smiled inwardly as he felt the heat coming off of the young man beside him. Fox must have blushed from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.
"Oh, I know the feeling. Mine's eight now. Practically an adult," she continued, placing a cup of coffee on Skinner's tray now. "Enjoy every minute, though. They grow up so fast. It's over before you know it."
Now Skinner felt color rise in his own cheeks, along with a stinging sensation around the back of his eyes. The kindly flight attendant moved on to the row behind them and he and Fox just sat there in silence, staring at their drinks.
"I'm sorry-" Mulder blurted out.
"I'm sorry, kid-" Skinner said at the same moment.
They both chuckled.
"No, let me go first," Mulder said. "I know I've been....."
"Cranky?" Skinner smiled.
"Annoying is what I was reaching for," Mulder responded, a half-smile working its way onto his face despite his best efforts. "I'll try not to be such a pain."
Skinner nodded, a proud and unabashedly parental smile on his own face. "Well, here," he said, handing the sealed bag of Cheerios to his seatmate. "These always worked like a charm before....."
Mulder grimaced, then he thought about the snack mix he'd just passed up as his stomach grumbled with hunger. They'd arrived at the airport too late to get breakfast and lunch wouldn't be served for another hour. He shrugged good-naturedly and took the bag. "They go great with orange juice," he said knowingly.
Now the AD took a sip of his coffee and put his head back, closing his eyes contentedly. "Just wait till we get to Mexico," he said. "Andy, Joe, Dad and Mike will arrive tomorrow. We'll sleep late, go fishing. Lay on the beach, have a few margaritas and a nice dinner every night.... Absolutely nothing is gonna bother me for the next seven days...."
Mulder took a sip of his juice, popped a Cheerio into his mouth, and stared out the window contentedly. *Just a quick side-trip or two to check out those alien sightings in Tulum. What could possibly go wrong?*
To be continued