TITLE: CHICAGO STORIES II: THE QUESTIONING
AUTHOR: WPAdmirer@aol.com  
ARCHIVE: Yes, but please write and tell me where.
CATEGORY: Slash Crossover (XF-ER) Skinner/John Carter, AU (Alternate Universe - cause damnit, I like the beard)
SPOILERS: None
RATING: PG-13 (John and Walter swear)
SUMMARY: The cops question John about Edson's death.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I got tired of waiting for some good John Carter slash, and there's never enough Skinner fic to suit me. The full set of stories (thus far) can be found at the ER nfic site: http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Studio/5437/wpadmirer.htm  and my own site: http://chateauke.simplenet.com/chimerical/chicago/index.htm 
DISCLAIMER: It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or profit from the characters created and owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions or the Fox Network, nor Warner Brothers and NBC. Skinner and Carter were borrowed temporarily and returned almost immediately, relatively unharmed. 
SPECIAL THANKS: To KiMeriKal and ewade for beta reading and friendship.
SPECIAL DEDICATION: This story is for Kim, a devoted Skinner fan who found out recently she has fibromyalgia. Maybe this little bit of Skinner will help her feel better.
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CHICAGO STORIES II: THE QUESTIONING

by WPAdmirer


Walter saw the color drain out of John Carter's face. Dale Edson had been murdered. It was just too damned convenient. John sagged against him and Walter realized he was about to pass out. Walter pushed John's head down toward his knees. "Breathe slowly, that's it, come on," Walter spoke softly.

He rubbed John's back and remembered the last time he'd had to keep John from fainting. That first evening in his hotel room. The night he'd introduced John to sex with a man. He was such a part of Walter's life now, such a part of his thinking, it was hard to remember that it hadn't always been so.

"Is he all right?" Kerry Weaver's voice was close. 

Walter didn't turn his head, just nodded. "He'll be fine."

Kerry patted Walter's shoulder and he heard her walk away. 

"So, am I lying?" Walter said softly to John Carter.

"I don't know." John sat up slowly. He was still pale, and his skin had gone clammy. He took a deep breath and ran one hand through his hair. 

The door to the lounge popped open and two men in suits walked in. Cops. Bad suits and attitude. Walter had tried throughout his career to keep a neutral if not positive attitude toward local authorities, but he usually failed. Local cops resented feds. Feds found local cops territorial, slow-moving, and just generally annoying. God, he was going to have to reign that in or John Carter would be the one to suffer the consequences.

"Looking for Dr. Carter. You him?" asked the bigger man.

John stood up. "I'm John Carter."

"Could you please come with us? We have a few questions for you."

Walter stood up. "I'll come with you, John."

"Hey, less you're his lawyer or something, you can stay right here."

Walter smiled, but everything about his posture and his stare was anything but friendly. "Let's just say I'm his advisor on legal matters."

"And it's just happenstance that you're here, right?"

"Right." 

The two detectives looked at each other, then shrugged. "Fine. Whatever. Let's get this over with." They turned and headed out of the lounge. 

John Carter looked at Walter, both confused and a little horrified, "What are you doing?"

"Covering your back."

"Could you do it a little less aggressively?"

"No."

Walter walked ahead of John, following the police. John Carter didn't understand the rules of engagement when it came to police interrogations.  You had to go in and take the upper hand. Interrogations worked because the cops used manipulations and implied threat. John Carter wouldn't be prepared for it. Walter, however, was an old hand at the game and he was actually looking forward to unsettling the balance of power.

In a small exam room the detectives pointed to a chair and motioned for John Carter to sit down. Much to Walter's surprise, John declined, stating that he'd stand. Good boy. Walter looked over at the men who were clearly not happy with the way things were starting.

"I'm Detective Cowart, and this is my partner, Detective Hamden.  You've been identified as the last person who spoke with Dr. Edson before he left work on Wednesday."

"That could be true. I don't know if he spoke to anyone else, but I did see him just before he left."

"You two didn't like each other, did you?"

"No, we didn't. Dale Edson was an egotistical bastard. He treated his patients like they were procedures, and his peers as pests that got in his way. He was a mediocre doctor at best, and at worst a danger to everyone he treated."

Walter swallowed his smile. Damn, John Carter didn't need him at all. 

But he wouldn't have missed this show for the world.

"So you're not sorry he's dead."

John Carter shook his head. "I didn't want him dead. I wanted to beat the shit out of him on a daily basis, but killing him never occurred to me."

"Do you own a gun, Dr. Carter?"

"No."

"We can check on that, you know."

"Go ahead. Guns were never an interest, and I've never owned one."

"Where were you last night between say ten and one?"

"In bed."

"Alone?"

John Carter smiled for the first time. "No." 

"Could we have the name of your companion of last night? We'll have to talk to her."

Oh, this was just too good an opening. "You'll have to talk to me. I was in bed with John Carter from approximately ten-thirty until five this morning. We had dinner together from nine until around ten at the Providence Club."

The silent cop turned an institutional shade of green that almost matched the walls. The one with the questions kept opening and shutting his mouth like a fish. Finally he managed to strangle out, "Who the hell are you?"

"Walter Skinner."

"What do you do?"

John Carter spoke before Walter could. "If you check with my landlady, Dr. Weaver, she'll verify the time we came in and that we were still there this morning. Unless you have something relevant to question me about, I believe we're finished here."

John grabbed Walter's arm and pulled him out of the exam room before the detectives could speak. Once outside, John dragged Walter down the hall to the linens room, forced him inside and slammed the door behind them.

"What the hell are you trying to do?"

Walter grinned. "Cops annoy me."

John Carter looked apoplectic. "You're in law enforcement!"

"I'm a fed." Sometimes Walter wanted to thump John Carter on the top of his head. He turned everything into some life or death event.

"Yeah, and they almost found out."

"Everyone's going to find out, or have you forgotten that?"

John Carter sighed and leaned against the door. "Edson's dead. I'd bet good money that the blackmail material is gone, too."

"So?"

"No blackmail material, no reason for you to come out. You can go home and keep doing your job."

Walter stepped back, stunned. "No."

John looked tired, defeated. "Think about it, Walter. Who would gain from Edson being dead?"

Walter didn't have to think long. The only person who knew about Edson and the outing was Grandpa Carter. "You think your grandfather had something to do with this?"

John nodded and Walter felt a heaviness settle on his shoulders. He recognized it. It was his life, the hiding, the burden of having to straddle a line to stay alive, and the fear that everything would end badly. "Fuck."  He said the word softly.

"It had to be him."

"You don't know that."

"He has the money to buy anything he wants. The death of some County surgical resident wouldn't be that expensive. Probably cost him less than his last trip to Hong Kong. Other than us, there's no one else who gains by Edson's death."

"We should tell the police." Walter straightened up, squared his shoulders.  "It will mean everything is public, but we can't let your grandfather kill someone and get away with it."

John Carter nodded. Walter went to him and pulled John into his arms.  He rubbed his face against John's beard, felt the slender body against his chest. "I'm sorry, John Carter. I wish there were another way." He felt John nod again. 

After a moment, John pulled away, brushed his hair back, and smoothed his beard on the side where Walter had rubbed his face. Walter put his hand on John's neck and drew his face close for a quick, chaste kiss. 

Then as John reached for the door to open it, one name slammed into Walter's consciousness. "Oh, God, wait." Walter pushed the door closed again.

"What?"

"There's one other person who would benefit from Edson's death."

"Who?"

"Krycek."

"How would he know...." John Carter stopped before he finished the sentence. "He's got your phone tapped."

"Probably."

"If you don't come out, you can still be of use to him."

"I'm only of value in the Bureau."

They both stood for a moment in silence. Either one was a good possibility. Either possibility easily plausible. 

"If it's Krycek, we can't take this to the locals. That will definitely get me killed." Walter shook his head. Just minutes ago he'd been free of everything. Worst of all, he'd felt joy. Now he'd been robbed of it. 
"I was thinking I'd move here. Do security consulting or something. We could get a place together."

John Carter reached out and took Walter's face in his hands. His hands felt hot and rough, his skin too dry from the constant washing with antiseptic soaps. Walter had come to love that touch. "All I could think about was how embarrassed I was going to be. I'm such an asshole."

Walter reached up and took John Carter's hands in his, brought them to his lips and kissed them. "No, you're not. You're just young. You get to be my age, being embarrassed is pretty low on the list of things you worry about."

The linen door open and slammed into John Carter's back. Carol Hathaway peeked around the corner and saw them standing there. "Sorry to interrupt."

"It's okay."

"It's getting pretty backed up out here. You okay?"

John Carter shook his head. "Sorry. I was saying goodbye to Walter.  He has to get back to D.C."

"Okay, well, I'll give you a few seconds." Carol closed the door quickly.

Walter chuckled. "Guess she didn't want to see two guys kiss goodbye."

"She's just afraid it'll turn her on and send her into premature labor."

They held each other close, then kissed softly. When they came out of the linen room every head at the desk turned in their direction. Walter waved, which caused John to groan.

"Do you have to do that?"

"What? You don't like an audience? Damn. There go my plans for some midday delight in DuPont Circle. I'm sure we'd draw an appreciative crowd there."

John pushed Walter toward the door. "Go home, Walter. Before you get both of us in serious trouble."

"I'll call you tonight."

Walter started for the door, then spun around suddenly. This was no way to say goodbye, and this was one of the few places on the planet where they could do it properly and not shock anyone.

Walter grabbed John by the shoulders and sealed their mouths together.  John was too surprised to do anything but acquiesce. Walter deepened the kiss, sweeping John's mouth with his tongue, savoring the flavor that was John Carter. Only when he had to breathe did he break away. "Soon, John Carter."

As Walter reached the door he heard the sound of applause. He laughed out loud when he realized it was not only the staff, but the patients in the waiting room clapping their approval. Walter felt damn well pleased with himself.



The End