Just the Fax, Sir
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, John Doggett and Walter Skinner 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: A couple for all of Season Eight.
Setting: Toward the end of the eighth season
Rating: PG. Discipline, no slash.
Summary: An X-rated fax sets off an investigation that ends up a little too
close to home as far as Skinner is concerned.
Office of Deputy Director Kersh
FBI Headquarters
Washington, D.C.
Special Agent Fox Mulder stood in front of DD Kersh's desk, tense and visibly
angry. He hadn't been asked to take a seat, something he put down to
Kersh's over-developed sense of self-importance. The DD had been berating
him for nearly ten minutes now, barely stopping to take a breath and
certainly not to let Mulder respond.
"I am tired of your attitude, Agent," Kersh continued. "Sick and tired of
you thinking you are the exception to the FBI's rules-"
"When was I ever the EXCEPTION?" Mulder interrupted him finally. "The full
weight of the FBI's fury comes down on my head more often than-"
"The result of your continued insubordination, Agent! And your unseemly and
unprofessional conduct," Kersh answered, raising his voice over Mulder's.
"You think you're the exception--
"I don't think I'M the exception," Mulder retorted angrily, raising his
voice even higher. "The X-Files are the exceptions. That's what I've
always said-"
"And I don't believe I've given you permission to speak!" Kersh roared.
"Nor do I believe I've reassigned you to the X-Files-"
"I did that," a calm voice broke in from behind Mulder. Both Kersh's and
Mulder's heads swiveled to fix on Assistant Director Walter Skinner standing
in the doorway. Mulder held his breath and silently thanked the
Administrative Assistants' grapevine for the quick work.
Kersh turned purple, clearly displeased by the interruption. "I didn't ask
you to attend this meeting, Assistant Director," he said, placing emphasis on
the other man's title.
"No, you didn't," Skinner answered smoothly. "However, I believe when an
Agent who reports directly to me is involved-"
"And I hope I don't have to remind you that you report to me," Kersh
interrupted him. He took a seat in his desk chair, leaving both of the other
men standing. Again, he made no move to ask either of them to be seated.
Skinner's jaw tightened, a habitual stress tic Mulder knew well. The younger
agent swore he could feel the heat of the AD's blood pressure rising
precipitously. But Skinner responded coolly, nevertheless.
"No," he said dryly. "You don't have to remind me.... sir."
Kersh failed to hear the irony behind his statement. He chose instead to
focus on the issue of Mulder's connection to the X-Files.
"Did you get my approval to reassign Agent Mulder to the X-Files?" he asked,
picking up a stack of papers on his desk. "I don't recall being asked to
authorize-"
"I don't recall there being any rule or practice that requires an AD to run
specific assignments in his own division by anyone," Skinner replied. Mulder
had no trouble recognizing that the man was seething but somehow he managed
to keep control. "Perhaps I missed some procedural memo.... I'll check with
the Director's office. Get a copy of all the rules releases for the past
couple of months."
Kersh knew he'd been trapped by his own bluster. "That won't be necessary.
It's this appointment I have a problem with, not your authority to make
general assignments."
"I see," Skinner said, glancing at Mulder. "Then that's something you should
take up with me. Not the agent in question."
Now Kersh's color rose yet again. He had lost the upper hand. And in front
of Mulder. He pursed his lips and exhaled slowly. "Yes, Assistant
Director," he said. "I think you're correct. Have my assistant set up a
meeting for next week. I think it's time I formally reviewed your
performance anyway."
Skinner stared at the man for a split second, his fists balling reflexively.
Then he mentally shook it off. "Of course... sir," he said, turning on his
heel and heading out the door to the exterior office. "Come along, Agent
Mulder."
Mulder glanced at Kersh, a look of pure venom on his face. But he followed
Skinner's example and held his tongue. He walked out the after the AD,
closing the door just a little harder than necessary.
Skinner was a half dozen long strides ahead of him and Mulder had to walk
briskly to catch up. "How the hell do you put up with that... that prick," he
whispered angrily as he moved in step next to the other man.
"Agent Mulder, I think you know better than to speak about one of your
superiors that way," Skinner said quietly. "ANY of your superiors..."
"Excuse me but that man isn't superior to you-or me-- or any primate who
isn't dragging his knuckles on the ground-"
"Agent Mulder!" Skinner said, stopping and turning toward the other man.
"Stop now. Before I bring you up on insubordination charges myself."
Mulder blinked at the vehemence of the other man's rebuke.
"You have a new case," Skinner said firmly. "I sent you the details by
e-mail this morning. Go. Now."
Mulder was shocked and hurt. He knew beyond a doubt the other man shared his
dislike of Kersh. How could he feel differently? But Skinner wouldn't share
that with him. He just had to keep the distance of their respective ranks in
place.
"Yes, sir," Mulder said tersely. "On my way, sir. Whatever you say, sir."
Skinner's jaw tightened once again. He'd have to be emotionally tone deaf
not to hear the evidence of the younger agent's disappointment in him.
"Good. I'll speak to you tonight," he answered quietly. Then he turned
away, heading into his own office.
"Thank you, sir!" Mulder called out behind him, his voice dripping with
sarcasm. "May I please have another, sir?" He could see Skinner's whole
body tense but the other man didn't turn back or respond. He walked past Kim
and into his own office, closing the door behind him.
Mulder went home to his own place that night. He'd been planning to spend
the night at the McLean house but his anger at the other man did not recede
all day. So he decided to spend the night in Alexandria. He knew Skinner
would get the message. And call him. But the AD didn't call and by 8
o'clock, Mulder was beginning to worry. He dialed the house in McLean, but
reached only the answering machine. He tried Skinner at his office but he
wasn't there either. Then he called the other man's cell phone but it was
apparently turned off.
"Where the hell are you?" he asked out loud, pacing around his apartment. He
tried Fiona Barefoot's number. She was home but was not expecting Skinner
tonight.
"He's been a little hard to catch up with lately," she told Mulder. "I guess
things at work are pretty stressful...."
Mulder felt a pang of guilt. He'd added to that stress today. Big time. He
picked up his car keys and headed out to the car. He'd just drive over to
McLean and wait for Skinner to come home. But halfway there, he suddenly
realized where the AD might have gone.
Mulcahy's Gym
Washington, D.C.
8:45 p.m.
Mulder stood by the wall, watching Walter Skinner pummel the heavy bag. One
of the trainers was holding it and, although the man was the size of a Mac
truck, he was having trouble keeping the bag still with the onslaught of
punches from Skinner. Sweat glistened on every inch of the AD, but he kept
up the furious pace.
"Whoa," an older man said as he laid a hand on Skinner's shoulder. "Take a
break, Walt. Give poor Max a break, too."
Skinner seemed not to hear or notice the interruption at first, then the
furious pace slowed. He took a deep breath, and raised his arm, wiping the
sleeve of his shirt across his sweat-soaked face. "Yeah. Okay."
The man who'd been holding the bag let it drop, giving the older trainer a
look that said he was through for the night. At least with Skinner. Both of
them walked away and Mulder used the break in the action to approach the AD.
"Hi," he said quietly.
Skinner jumped a little at the unexpected interruption.
"Hi," he responded in kind.
Neither of them said anything else, then Mulder sensed he had to be the first
to break the stalemate this time. "I'm sorry," he said. "I-I know I was
out of line today..."
Skinner closed his eyes, releasing a deep, cleansing breath. "Yes," he
confirmed. "You were way out of line, Fox... It's not that I don't
understand the provocation. But you can't let your emotions run away with
you like that."
"I know," Mulder answered, his voice tinged with regret. "It's just that
he-he makes me so mad..."
Skinner smiled. "I know. But you have to play it smart. He's ... a fact of
life right now. Just find a way to deal with it."
Mulder nodded resignedly. "I will. Listen, how 'bout you let me by dinner.
In return for the free advice?"
Skinner chuckled. "Nah, we can go home and fix something-"
"But O'Neill's is on the way," Mulder protested, letting his voice turn into
a semi-whine. "We could have a couple of his half-pound burgers. And a
pitcher of beer...."
Skinner could see it was important to the younger man. Perhaps a way of
atoning for his behavior earlier in the day. "Okay," he said with a smile.
"Give me ten to shower and I'll meet you there, okay?"
Mulder nodded happily, then he turned and headed for the exit, calling back
over his shoulder. "See you there. I'll get Desmond to give us the booth
with the full view of the big-screen TV.... The Yanks are playing the Braves
tonight."
The AD and Mulder had a pleasant meal, a couple of pitchers of beer and
watched the Yankees pull one it out in the bottom of the ninth inning, taking
the game by one run. It brought back happy memories of the World Series they
had seen when Fox was a teenager. The same two teams and the same end
result.
Skinner was glad to see Mulder relax. And Mulder was feeling much the same.
He'd hoped the beer would get the older man talking about what was going on
at work, but it had the opposite effect, letting him forget all about it and
just enjoy an evening and a ballgame without thinking once about DD Kersh.
Or the troubles at the FBI.
When he'd returned from the grave a month earlier, Mulder had been shocked
and enraged to find Skinner had been passed over for the Deputy Director's
slot. Passed over for Kersh, of all people. He knew it must have hurt the
other man. Skinner never talked about his own career ambitions, instead
focusing on doing the best job he could, every single day. But the AD took
his job, and the work of the Bureau, more seriously than anyone Mulder had
ever met. Yet he was able to keep from becoming a political monkey, somehow
managing to make his focus on doing the job, correctly and completely, enough
to rise to top management. Few other AD's could say the same.
Unfortunately, Alvin Kersh could not. He had always been more known for his
political instincts than his management or investigatory prowess.
The fact was Skinner was the most qualified AD for the Deputy Director's
position, bar none. And it cut Mulder to the quick to know it was Skinner's
close relationship with him, and the X-Files, that probably cost the man that
promotion. Despite his outward calm, Mulder could feel the truth of that
reality chafing in his gut.
Skinner signaled Desmond O'Neill to send over two coffees and the check. But
Mulder insisted on paying it.
"This is my treat," he said firmly. "I invited you. Besides, I've got
several months of back pay you got them to pay me for the time I was 'dead.'
Buying you dinner's the least I can do in return...."
"Well, once the people in payroll got over the shock, it wasn't too hard. At
first they said the "deceased" field in the system couldn't be reversed. But
when I told that to Andy, he said he could show them how to override the lock
on it and sure enough, it worked."
Mulder laughed out loud. The AD's younger brother was a computer genius. He
suspected Andy had worked his way into the system to make that happen but he
didn't want to tell that to Skinner. It would get Andy in trouble.
But Skinner was a step ahead of him, as always. "I actually think Andy
'fiddled' with the system himself, then gave me a simple 'fix' to
communicate to the payroll department. But it was all in a good cause so I
let it go..."
Now Mulder frowned in consternation. "How come you never let anything go
with me?" he asked plaintively.
Skinner gave him a cool look. "Believe me, Mulder, you don't know how many
little things I let go, he said. Then he smiled. "It's a good thing for
your butt, I don't keep count!"
But by the next morning, all Skinner's calm and composure had fled yet again.
His office was informed that DD Kersh had called for a complete accounting
of Skinner's division's expenses for the prior two years. His stated reason
was that he would initiative a new policy of fiscal responsibility and this
was just the first area he'd chosen for review. But Skinner and everyone
else knew better.
And Mulder was furious when he heard about it. He knew the expenses of the
X-Files were the only ones in Skinner's area that would be reviewed with a
fine-tooth comb. And having to explain them, yet again, would drive him and
Skinner to distraction. Not to mention that those details, put under a
microscope and compiled into one review, had the potential to make the
Assistant Director look pretty bad. Not to mention fiscally irresponsible.
The first meeting with the auditors took place under Kersh's watchful eye
later the same day. It had been agonizingly long and uncomfortable, with
Skinner and the agents assigned to the X-Files knowing they were being
targeted. Kersh's hand-picked team chose ten cases for review and they were
all ones that would make Skinner look bad. Or foolish, which was even worse.
Kersh seemed to take immense satisfaction from the AD's discomfort, which
made Mulder, Scully and Doggett even more uncomfortable for having to witness
it.
They knew, as did everyone else in the Bureau, that this was Kersh's way of
marginalizing Skinner. And, if it worked, it could even mean the end of the
AD's career. It would surely mean the end of any remaining career ambition
for him. And no one felt worse about it than Mulder. He was so visibly
angry and overwrought, Skinner sent him out of town for a few days, just to
get him out of the line of harm's way.
There was an odd copycat killer case being investigated of the Los Angeles
bureau office. Several murders had occurred that had the signature of a
serial killer who'd been jailed nearly forty years earlier. The murderer had
died recently and new murders, with the same signature and MO, had begun
almost immediately thereafter. It was not likely to have a paranormal
explanation but the Assistant Director thought it would capture Mulder's
attention and he'd likely spur some progress on the stalled investigation
with his patented intuitive leaps.
"I don't want to go," Mulder had said when he heard where Skinner was
sending him. "Not now. It's not a good time-"
"Out of town is the best place for you to be right now, Fox," the AD had told
him firmly. "You need to get a little distance from all of this. You're
taking things too personally, kid-"
"How else am I supposed to take it?" the younger agent asked plaintively.
His high frustration level was unmistakable. "It-it IS personal. Kersh
despises me. And he's taking it out on everyone who's connected to me,
especially you-"
"And I'm a big boy," Skinner told him, a small smile crossing his face. "I
appreciate your concern but I was taking care of myself when you were still
in diapers.... And if I could do it two years ago, I can probably still manage
to pull it off today."
FBI Headquarters
Two days later
9:48 a.m.
The emergency meeting of the Directors had been called less than an hour
before. Skinner had been meeting with some members of Congress and he'd had
to call an early halt to that conference. He didn't know what the crisis was
but it had to be something big. He'd rushed back from the hill and met up
with Jana Cassidy and Jack Kendall in the lobby. They'd both been summoned
as well.
The Director himself was on the West Coast so it was either Kersh, or DD
Masterson who'd summoned the seven AD's located in Washington and Quantico
to this meeting. None of them had a clue as to the reason though and they
entered the Director's meeting room with trepidation.
Once there, it was clear who'd called the meeting. Deputy Director Masterson
was not present and DD Kersh was seated at the head of the table. He
motioned for silence as soon as the door closed behind the last participant.
"I am fed up with the lack of discipline and propriety I see among our
agents," he said, his voice rising with each word. "It's time to restore the
decorum and dignity of this agency - NOW, Ladies and Gentlemen." He stood
up, banging his fist on the table as he rose. "I will not tolerate
disrespect...."
The seven AD's exchanged glances that bespoke their mutual ignorance of what
had motivated this tirade.
"Alvin," Jana Cassidy interrupted him finally. "Please calm yourself. And
tell us what you are talking about-"
Kersh bristled at the use of his first name but then he veered off on the
tangent that had precipitated the meeting. "I'm talking about-about-THIS!"
he said, his voice shaking with rage. He pushed a letter size piece of paper
in her direction.
Cassidy picked it up. Then she frowned curiously as she turned it sideways,
trying to get a handle on what it was. It had been faxed to Kersh's
attention, that she could see plainly. "Oh, my goodness," she breathed as it
suddenly came to her. Trying not to smile, she passed it along to Skinner
beside her.
He took barely a second to recognize it but before he could speak, Jack
Kendall, the AD in charge of Quantico, leaned over and took a look for
himself.
"Someone faxed their fanny to you?" Kendall asked, causing all the AD's
around the table to find some surreptitious means to suppress or cover their
amusement.
"Someone faxed .... THAT! from the bullpen last night. And this one, too," he
said, sliding another piece of paper along toward Cassidy. Then he sent two
additional copies of the same faxes around the table in the other direction.
"Someone with no sense of decorum or respect for his superiors! I want him
found. And drummed out of the Bureau...."
"How do you think we're going to ... identify the culprit, Al?" Cassidy asked
suddenly. She saw eyes around the table light with further amusement but she
refrained from showing any herself. Still, Kersh was not fooled.
"This is the most illustrious investigatory agency in the world!" he
bellowed. "And you are all Assistant Directors! Am I to believe you all
rose to that level without knowing how to conduct an investigation? Do I
have to tell you all how to do your jobs?"
The room grew silent in the face of his anger and his attack. After a minute
that seemed like an eternity, AD Skinner broke the silence?
"What do you suggest we do, Deputy Director?" he said dryly. "Hold a
line-up?"
The rest of the room erupted with laughter and Kersh turned purple with rage.
He picked up the first fax in question, which had made its way around the
table and back to him. He tossed it at AD Cassidy's place. "I think the
Office for Professional Responsibility should begin an investigation.
Immediately," he said, rising up to his full height. "And I suggest you
start with the likely suspects. You all know who they are...." He stomped
toward the door and opened it, slamming it behind him as he left.
The room all but cleared within a minute after Kersh stormed off, all of the
AD's happy to leave the entire ugly scene behind. And let Cassidy and her
OPR staff conduct whatever kind of investigation would be possible. No one
expected they'd be able to identify the perpetrator. As Skinner had so
pithily pointed out.
Only Cassidy and Skinner remained once the others disappeared. "Just who do
you think the 'likely suspects' are, Jana?" Skinner said once the door had
closed behind Jack Kendall.
Cassidy pursed her lips. "Well, I know who Kersh thinks it is," she said
quietly. Then she turned to Skinner. "Agent Mulder's out of town, isn't
he, Walt?"
Skinner started. It had not occurred to him that Mulder would be a suspect.
This was not up to his usual standards, or style. "Yes," he answered
immediately. "Has been for two days." He picked up the first fax and took a
closer look at time stamp on the edge of the paper. "And this was sent at
just past 2 a.m. this morning. From the fax machine in the bullpen."
"Thank God," Cassidy sighed. She took another look at the second fax, then
took the first one back from Skinner. "I'm not expert on these things, Walt,
but... these look like two distinctly different fannies to me." She handed
them both to Skinner.
He chuckled. "What are you implying, Jana? You think I have some special
expertise in this area....?"
Cassidy laughed. "No, I didn't mean it that way. But you have a good eye
for detail. Do you think these are the same guy?"
Skinner looked a little embarrassed but he dutifully took the faxes and
looked at them closely. "You're right," he said slowly. "These are two
different butts. How likely is it we have two agents with this little
judgment....?" He shook his head and handed them back to her. "I don't envy
you this job, Jana."
She nodded, picking up the paper and her own notebook. "Well, I guess I'll
get started .... 'investigating.' Maybe we have security video cameras over
the fax machine...."
Skinner laughed. "Well, if we have a couple of agents who actually sat down,
bare-assed, on a fax machine-- under a security camera-- we should fire them
both. For out and out stupidity, before anything else!"
AD Skinner's office
FBI Headquarters
Later that evening
Walter Skinner sat at his desk, his laptop computer in front of him. He was
bleary-eyed from staring at the screen. He was connected to the FBI's
document repository, reviewing every note and memo and report related to each
of the cases from his division that were currently under review. He knew he
had nothing to hide or fear about how cases on his watch had been conducted.
But the vast scope of his responsibilities made it impossible for him to
remember every detail of every case and he knew Kersh's lackeys would jump on
any inconsistency or hesitation as they pressed their witch hunt forward.
They were clearly loaded for bear.
Skinner closed his eyes for a moment and let his head roll back, trying to
ease a little of the tension in his neck. He held that position for twenty
seconds, then he lowered his gaze to the screen once again. His hand reached
out for the mug beside him. The coffee was cold as he'd been nursing it for
some time. Tonight, though, the cold, bitter brew was dinner and dessert.
The phone beside him rang, startling him out of deep concentration. It was
after seven and he'd already talked to Fox earlier in the afternoon.
"Hello."
"Hi, Walt," his brother Joe said. "How ya doing?"
"Fine, Joe. How's everyone there?" Skinner answered automatically. He
listened as Joe told him the latest on that branch of the Skinners, then was
surprised when Joe commented on how stressed he sounded.
"I do? I guess I'm just tired. I've been working a lot of hours-"
"I know. That division review," Joe answered sympathetically. "Your new
boss sounds like a total jerk, Walt. I can't believe they passed over you to
make that guy Deputy Director."
Skinner was taken aback. The fact was, he hadn't discussed any of this with
his family. It was just not his nature to complain. Or to burden his family
with the political machinations of his job. "How did....? Oh, Fox has been
talking to you, I guess."
"Well, no, he didn't tell me," Joe answered. "He told Andy. Fox is feeling
pretty bad about it. And angry. He thinks your connection with him is the
reason-"
"I told him that's not true," Skinner interrupted. "I-I don't want to
speculate about why Kersh and not me. It just ... is, that's all. He's got
more seniority with the bureau than me, maybe that's it. Who the hell
knows?" He knew he was reaching with that possible explanation. While Kersh
had been with the FBI a few more years, Skinner had been promoted to AD
several years earlier than the older man. So that didn't seem like a likely
explanation.
"Don't get mad, Walter," Joe responded quickly. "I didn't mean to get you
riled up."
"I'm not riled, Joe," Skinner said exasperatedly. "I just wish Fox would
believe me when I tell him he's not to blame-"
"Well, if it's any consolation, I'm sure Andy's taking his mind off it," Joe
laughed. "He never misses a chance to get some surfing in when he's on the
West Coast. He took Fox with him yesterday and I think they had themselves a
wild boy's night out afterward. That's what I'm guessing from the sound of
Andy when I spoke to him this morning! He was seriously hung over. And Fox
was still sleeping."
Skinner frowned. This was news to him. Fox hadn't even mentioned seeing
Andy there, let along spending time with him. "Andy's in LA?"
"Yeah, he had some big meeting going on there earlier this week, remember?
And when Fox got an assignment there, Andy tacked a couple of days onto his
trip so he could introduce Fox to some of his old haunts. He spent a lot of
time hanging out at beaches up and down Southern California in the old days."
"Yeah, I know," Skinner said dryly. "I seem to remember bailing him out of a
couple of scrapes in those days. Actually, when I think about it, Fox and
Andy are a dangerous combination sometimes...."
Joe snorted. "Andy manages to act like a mature, competent adult most of the
time now. But every now and then, he's just gotta break out and get stupid.
Just for old time's sake, I guess. Ah, well. At least now he's got Fox to
keep him company. Gets me off the hook!"
They chatted another minute, then finished their conversation. Skinner tried
to go back to his review but somehow his mind kept veering off in another
direction. Finally, he decided he had to resolve the thing that was niggling
at the back of his brain. He opened his address book, checked a number, then
dialed it quickly.
"Talk to me," a voice answered.
"Langly, turn off the tape," Skinner said firmly.
"It's off," the other man answered automatically.
"I mean really off."
After a moment's hesitation, Langly sighed. "Okay. No offense but we don't
get many calls from The Man. What's up?"
"I want to pose a hypothetical question. Of a technological nature."
"I'll put you on speaker." Background noise could now be heard, then Langly
spoke again. "Go for it," he said. "We're listening."
"Suppose I wanted to send a fax to someone. But I didn't want the fax to be
traced to me. How hard would it be to send a fax to another fax machine and
then have that one forward it on to the intended recipient?"
"Hell, that's easy,." Frohike responded immediately. "Most fax machines have
forwarding capability nowadays.
"Yeah, but suppose I'm not where the second machine is," Skinner continued.
"And I don't have anyone there who can forward it. And I don't want the
fax to be traced to its original destination?"
"Well, that would be harder," Byers answered matter-of-factly. "But not
impossible."
Langly and Frohike weighed in with a technical explanation that required
hacking into several networks and sounded beyond the capability of most
people.
Skinner said as much, then asked the next question. "What kind of person
could do that?"
"Well, we could," Frohike immediately answered.
"Someone with sophisticated hacking skills," Byers completed the answer.
"And of course, if you're talking about the FBI-or most government
agencies--someone would have to know passwords and general security protocols
too."
Skinner nodded to himself. It was all starting to fall into place. And
those two butts had looked suspiciously familiar. He just hadn't given
himself time to think about it before.
"Thank you, gentlemen. Always a pleasure doing business with you," he said.
"Yeah. Just don't tell any of your friends about us," Langly answered as he
cut the connection.
Skinner's next call was to his sister-in-law, Eileen. Andy's wife was
pleased to hear from him. "Andy and Fox have been having too good a time in
LA," she laughingly told him. "I think it's time for those two to come home."
"I couldn't agree more," he answered. "Do you know when they're arriving?"
"They're taking the red-eye tonight," she said. "Andy's taking the day off
tomorrow, to recover from his walk down memory lane.... Although how he's
gonna sleep here, I don't know. We're having a multiple child play date
tomorrow afternoon! I imagine Fox will need a day to sleep it off, too."
"Uh-huh. I wouldn't be surprised," he responded noncommittally. "Listen,
I'll pick them up at the airport, okay? I need to see them both about
something. And Andy can get some rest here tomorrow before heading home for
dinner. How's that sound...?"
Dulles International Airport
6:45 a.m.
Walter Skinner stood at the gate, watching sleepy passengers disembark from
the TWA flight from LA. They all looked a little disheveled but none more so
than the two young men who seemed to almost sleepwalk out of the jetway.
Both their eyes were half-closed and they toted large duffel bags. Skinner
knew immediately they had no luggage to reclaim from baggage claim. He
positioned himself directly in their path.
Neither Andy nor Fox seemed to recognize him at first, beginning to side-step
the large obstacle that was blocking their progress. Then both younger men
turned pale and stopped on a dime.
"Walter!" Andy croaked. Beside him, Fox was mute, not certain what to say.
"You-you didn't have to pick us up. There are taxis-"
"I know. But I need your help with a case and, well.... it couldn't wait," he
answered with a smile.
"A case?" Fox asked tentatively. "What-what kind of case?"
Andy heard the nervousness in his voice and tried to help him out. "An
X-File? I always like those...."
Skinner grinned at him. "No. I guess this would be more of an... X-rated
file," he answered. With that he handed each of them a fax. The two men
stared at the pages in their hands and Skinner was certain at least one of
them was going to throw up right then and there.
"I-I-I don't know what to say to this," Andy said slowly. Skinner could
tell he was trying to buy time. And Fox's uncharacteristic silence was a
similar tactic.
"Oops," Skinner said suddenly. "My mistake... He eased the fax out of
Mulder's hand, then did the same with the one in Andy's hand. Then he
exchanged them, giving each man back the one the other had been holding.
"There. That's right now. Isn't it, gentlemen?"
Neither of them answered as he dropped a muscled arm around each of their
shoulders and propelled them toward the exit.
The Skinner Home
McLean, Virginia
8:50 a.m.
Yoda greeted them all enthusiastically, running in circles and jumping up to
say hello first to Fox, then to Andy, then to the Assistant Director. The
dog's sense of timing didn't seem to inform him he'd seen one of them only a
couple of hours earlier and the other two had been out of sight for days.
"Hi, boy," Fox said quietly. He and Andy had both been completely silent
during the ride from the airport, not wanting to make things worse. There
was no doubt Skinner knew exactly whose butts had been faxed to DD Kersh.
Now it was just a matter of learning how he would handle the matter.
Skinner took a couple of dog treats out of the container in which they were
kept and handed one to Yoda. Then he used the other to lure the dog into the
garage, closing the door behind him.
The action was not lost on either Mulder, nor Andy. Both their hearts sank,
knowing what was coming next.
"In the family room, gentlemen," Skinner said firmly. "You know the drill...."
In a moment, the AD's belt was off and doubled over in his hands and he was
staring at the live action shot of what they'd faxed to Kersh's office the
other night. He could see both young men were clenching their butt cheeks in
anticipation of what was to come, their jeans pooled around their ankles.
The AD smiled to himself. He knew from experience that waiting, in that
position, was in fact worse than the actual punishment.
"Okay. What's this strapping for?" Skinner asked them both.
They spoke up at the same moment.
"For faxing our asses to the FBI!" Andy said.
"For faxing our butts to Kersh!" Mulder responded.
"Yeah," Skinner replied, laying the first stroke across Andy's upturned
bottom. "That'd be it." He gave Andy a second lick, then moved on to Fox's
butt. Both younger men howled and Skinner heard the dog in the garage take
up the third part of this harmony.
"And why is that a punishable offense?" he asked, giving both of them two
more licks right across the sit spot.
"Because it's disrespectful!" Andy answered. "Oucchh!"
"Be-because it's immature! Owww! And disrespectful!" Fox added.
"And stupid, too! Ohhhh! Ahhhh!" Andy yelled as the leather belt hit its
mark again.
"Because I was raised better than that...!" Fox sobbed. "Unhhh! Ouchh!"
That one brought a small smile to the AD's face but it didn't deter him from
the rest of the punishment.
"Whatever made you decide to do something so-so stupid and immature?" he
asked as he let the belt strike the upper part of both men's thighs. Sitting
down would be an uncomfortable experience for the rest of the day, of that he
would make certain.
"I-We got dr-drunk!" Andy yelled. "OWWW! YEOW!"
"Too many Margaritas!" Fox hollered beside him. "I should know better
than-OHHH! AAAAH-than to try to keep up with Andy!"
"NO! It was my fault!" Andy sobbed. "I shouldn't try to get Fox to drink
like that! OUCHH! He's n-not a very experienced drinker...."
"No, Andy," Fox answered beside him. "I-I shouldn't have been ranting to
you about Kersh! OWWW! It's my fault..." He sobbed disconsolately.
Skinner's heart lurched at the turn this had taken. Each of the younger men
was trying to make certain he took the greater blame. Obviously, they were
both at fault and, in the Skinner tradition, he made sure Andy got a couple
of extra licks as the oldest perpetrator. But in some ways, the
relationships that existed between his youngest brother and Fox now gave him
an immensely warm and satisfied feeling.
Dropping the belt on the side table, he spoke to them both. "I don't
ever-EVER-want to hear about either of you doing anything like this again!
Am I getting through those incredibly thick skulls?"
Andy and Fox both nodded and sobbed once more.
"Yes, s-sir," Fox answered.
"I g-got it," Andy echoed.
"Good," the AD said, pulling Fox up first and enveloping him in a hug. "This
was one of your dumbest stunt yet, kid," he said. "I love you for ... coming
to my defense, even in this inexcusable manner. But hear me, Fox. This is
my battle, not yours. You have enough career concerns of your own without
taking on mine."
Fox nodded into his shoulder. Skinner squeezed him tight, then instructed
him to stay right there.
He turned to Andy next and pulled him into an embrace. "You never cease to
surprise me, little brother," he said with a smile. "Just when I think
you've edged your way into full, responsible adulthood...."
Andy snorted, a half-sob, half laugh, that was muffled in Skinner's shoulder.
"... you take a couple of steps back into your unbelievably looooong
adolescence! I think we can nominate you for the Guinness Book of World
Records now! But I love you anyway, kid." He squeezed his youngest brother
once, then fell back into command mode.
Both young men had begun to pull up their jeans but Skinner barked at them.
"Not yet, gentlemen," he said firmly. "I think such a juvenile stunt
requires a stint of corner time. Upstairs, right now!"
Fox and Andy blinked in surprise, not certain what was happening now. Then
Skinner issued a stinging slap to Andy's bottom, followed by another aimed at
Fox's bare ass. Without looking back, they both headed out into the hallway
and up the stairs, stumbling as the jeans around their ankles hampered their
gaits. Once upstairs, Skinner sent Andy to the study and Fox to his room
with instructions that he wanted them in the corner, with their pants down
and their shirts held up, until further notice.
Neither of them had experienced this particularly humiliating punishment as
adults and the message didn't fail to hit its mark. For a full half hour,
Skinner left them there, visiting occasionally to refresh the stinging in
their posteriors. He retrieved the antique wooden hairbrush Fox's mother had
sent him before she died and used it to good effect until he finally took
pity on the two offenders and sent them to bed.
"And neither of you gets up until I say so," he added as he closed both of
their doors and headed downstairs. It was not yet 10 a.m. and he could still
get a full day's work done from home via phone and computer. Five hours
later, he could hear the sounds of movement from upstairs but he waited
another half hour before releasing his prisoners. They both sat down,
gingerly, to a late lunch of sandwiches, then were sent out into the yard to
do some weeding and pruning of the bushes. At 4:30, Skinner waved them in
and told Andy he was to go straight home from there. Andy nodded in relief,
then bounded up the stairs to retrieve his bag.
Skinner called up the stairs after him. "Don't come down yet," he yelled.
"I'll be up to give you your bedtime spanking before you leave."
The AD could have laughed at loud at the green look that passed over Fox's
face at this news. He'd been thinking, under the circumstances, there'd be
no punishment tour. But-
"And I'll expect you to stop by here every night for the next week," Skinner
continued as he started up the stairs. "You're only seven blocks away. No
reason you can't join Fox for at least some of this tour...."
A few hours later, Fox found himself over the AD's knees, collecting his
nightly spanking, at its proper time.
"What's this spanking for?"
"For-for acting like a stupid kid! And faxing my butt to Kersh!"
"Yeah, but that's what you got punished for this afternoon, kid," Skinner
said, issuing another stinging smack to the fleshiest part of the younger
man's bottom. It had been a while since he'd given Fox a punishment tour,
with everything that had happened to the younger man in the last year.
Perhaps this refresher was a good thing for a lot of reasons.
"Oh, yeah!" Fox answered, remembering. "It's-it's to remind me! That I'm
being punished!"
"Exactly," Skinner said, finishing up with three final smacks. Then he
pulled the younger man's pajama bottoms up and let him slide off his knees
and onto his own. Finally, he pulled the younger man into a hug. "That's
exactly right."
"I-I'm s-sorry!" Fox stammered. "For-for everything. I-if it wasn't for
me telling Andy-"
"Don't go there, son," Skinner told him firmly. "You are not responsible for
the fact Andy went along with this stunt. Anyway, I think Andy's probably
the one who thought it up in the first place...!"
"How-how did you know that?"
"I know Andy. And I know you. You could be talked into it, but I just don't
think you would have thought of it yourself. You're an FBI agent, Andy's
not so it wouldn't have had the same significance to him. And you would have
worried too much about somebody else being blamed. But with a bellyful of
Margaritas - and I'm guessing no food-you could be talked into something
like that."
Mulder nodded. That's exactly how it had happened. "But-"
"No buts about it," Skinner cut him off, holding up the covers and letting
him slide in. Then he sat down on the edge of the mattress. "I'm not giving
you any slack on it. I'm just saying I know the idea didn't originate with
you..."
"Are you g-gonna report this? To Kersh?"
Skinner saw he was worrying his lower lip. He shook his head immediately.
"No," he said quietly. "I think you've been ... punished appropriately.
Nothing more would be served by ending your career over an adolescent stunt."
Mulder sighed with relief.
"I think the punishment tour will suffice. For you and Andy."
Now Mulder grimaced. "I was afraid of that. How-how long?"
"We'll see. About a week, I expect."
Mulder nodded, then a thought hit him. "What do you think Andy's gonna tell
Eileen? About coming over here every night?"
Skinner smiled. "If I know Andy, he'll make up something."
"You don't think he'll tell her the truth?"
Skinner eyed him curiously. "Would you tell Scully?"
"No!" the younger man responded vehemently.
"Well, you and Andy, you're a lot alike," Skinner said, rising and heading
for the door. "I expect you'll both have a good explanation for the sore
butts you'll be sporting all week."
He opened the door and let the dog in, then turned out the light with the
switch at the door. "Good night, Fox."
"Thank God for the surfing thing," Fox answered suddenly. Skinner could
fairly see the wheels turning in his brain. "It won't be too hard to convince
Scully I injured my butt learning to surf. I'm pretty injury-prone anyway."
Turning over he sighed as sleep began to overtake him. "But I don't know
what excuse Andy's gonna use!"
THE END