Blood of Abraham - Chapter Nineteen
by Mik
The meeting with Scully was every bit as ludicrous as she had predicted it would be. Although we met at the apartment, and wandered around talking about pointless things, we both knew that anyone who might have been monitoring the place was fully aware I had not spent the last several nights there. Still, we played the game, and as we did, we moved through the place, stealthily emptying the contents of drawers and cupboards into backpacks and duffels. We discussed a non-existent case we were about to undertake, as a reason for me to be away. We talked about sports, and politics, and even had a halfhearted spat about religion. We did not say one meaningful thing to one another in the three hours we were there. And in the end, she took one duffel to her car, and I took a couple more to the van, and we left a tape recording of another meaningless conversation running, so no one would be watching for us to leave. If, in fact, anyone was watching.
Six blocks away, we met up again at a Starbucks, I bought her a coffee and a scone, picked up the bag of Bram's clothing and toys from her back seat, she sent her regards to Assistant Director Skinner, and we said goodbye.
Despite an alien anxiety to get back to the kid, I drove around in circles for a while, looking for a tagalong, which was quite a feat considering the willful disregard for steering that van possessed. When I was comfortable that either there was no one following me, or whoever was following was just so good he deserved to see where I was going, I prodded the van in the direction of Skinner's condominium.
Even though I now possessed a key to his front door, I felt uncomfortable letting myself in when I knew he was home, so I used the key to knock sharply. When there was no immediate response, I felt that now familiar panic start to rise. I was about two seconds away from drawing my weapon when I heard heavy steps approach and the bolt slide back. He looked at me, with his patented perplexed and irritated expression. "You have a key," he reminded me, backing away from the door to give me room to enter.
"Yes, but I..." and now my reason sounded stupid. "I had my hands full," I lied.
He looked out into the corridor and saw that I truly did have a lot to handle, and reached for the heaviest bag. He didn't ask me what it was. He just took it to the study and put it on the sofa.
That is, he put it where the sofa had been. Now it was just an empty place on the floor. In point of fact, there were a lot of empty places on the floor. And on the shelves. And in the cupboard. "What's not all this?" I demanded.
"Just making room for Bram," he said simply, bending to lift with his knees, and bringing a cardboard box out of the room.
I dropped the other bags on the floor and followed him out. "Where did everything go?"
"Well," he grunted, adding the box to a stack in the hallway, "the sofa's in the living room for now." He pointed, in case I might have forgotten where that was. "We can either put it upstairs in one of our bedrooms, or put it in the nanny's room. The rest of it is going in the attic." He unfolded a ladder that had been leaning against the banister and positioned it in a space behind the stair. "Hold this for me, will you?"
'Our bedrooms.' How casually he said that. At least he didn't say 'our bedroom'. "You have an attic?"
He shrugged. "A storage space between the staggered floors of these units. Will you hold this?" He was climbing up and pushing a square of the ceiling aside.
I moved over belatedly and braced the ladder with my hands. "So...where is this space, exactly?"
"Over my neighbor's kitchen," he explained. "These units are dovetailed together for more efficient use of space." He was halfway up into the ceiling, shoving things around. His crotch was right in my face and I no longer cared about dovetails or storage space or anything. I mean, his crotch was right in my face. And to be perfectly fair, it was a nice crotch. "Pass up a box, can you?"
"Mulder?" My eyes jerked upward. He was peering down at me. "Pass a box up?"
"Oh..." I was blushing furiously. I know he knew what I was looking at. I wondered if he knew what I was thinking? "Yeah." I backed away from the ladder and grabbed the next box on the stack. Come on, Mulder. Get a grip on yourself, will you?
He grunted and shoved, and took another step on the ladder and it wobbled. I grabbed it and braced my thigh against it. I'm not sure at that point if I was steadying the ladder or it was steadying me.
"Okay," he announced from somewhere above me, "I'm ready for another one."
I turned back to the boxes. "This is a lot of stuff," I said apprehensively.
"Don't worry, there's plenty of room."
I lifted another one. Heavy. Probably books. "No, I mean you're putting away a lot of your stuff to make room for us."
His hands came down from the opening. "Nothing important."
"Important enough for you to keep," I countered.
He grunted, he shoved. With the box balanced at the edge of the opening, by one hand, he took a step down on the ladder, so he could peer out at me. "Nothing's more important than keeping you safe." He paused and considered his words. "The two of you."
I answered with a spastic nod and let go of the ladder to get another box without being asked. I have to admit, something about the way he said that got to me. He wanted to keep me safe. I scooped up the box and started shoving.
"I'm not ready for that yet," he told me, still trying to maneuver the last box into place.
I kept pushing it at him. Skinner wanted to keep me safe.
"Mulder, not yet."
I lifted the box higher. Safe in Skinner's arms...I could be safe there.
"Mulder!"
I gave the box a final push.
I'm not exactly certain what happened, but something definitely happened. In bullet motion, full color and Dolby stereo. The ladder lurched away from him and into my chest, knocking the breath from my lungs and sending me slamming into the wall. His body lurched in an opposing direction, feet flailing like Wile E. Coyote when he overshoots the cliff and finds himself running in mid air. About the time my back hit the wall, his back hit the floor.
And then the box came down on top of him.
For a moment, I think we were thinking exactly the same thing. Maybe he wanted to keep me safe, but how safe was he going to be with me in proximity?
We looked at each other for a ridiculously long time. Me, a hand to my chest, trying to garner enough breath to ask if he was still alive. Him, looking up at me with a bewildered 'what the fuck is wrong with you?' expression.
He groaned and started to shove the box away.
I pushed the ladder aside and scrambled over it to offer him a hand. "I'm so...are you all right? I'm so sorry."
He didn't take my hand right away. He just looked up at me.
"Go ahead and yell, I deserve it," I offered, in a rare burst of contrition. I was beyond embarrassed. If he had any idea where my mind was when I stopped listening to him, it could be the end of this sanctuary. I lifted the box away and set it to one side. "Please yell," I implored softly. "At least I'll know you're alive."
He kept looking at me.
I held my hand out again. "Sir? Skinner?" Great. I'd concussed him. Or something. What if he had amnesia? What if he didn't remember who he was, or who I was, or that he had said he wanted to keep me safe? "Walter?"
His eyes narrowed, almost thoughtfully. "How long has it been?" he asked.
My eyes narrowed, in confusion. "How long has what..." Oh. Confusion departed, making room for humiliation. "I..." I shrugged. "I don't know. Not that long." His eyes, still narrowed, seemed to be waiting for something. "I don't know."
He reached for my hand. "That's what I thought." He came straight up, jerking me off balance so that I careened into his chest as he came off the floor. "Come with me."
Suddenly I was jerked around, back to his chest and muscled into the room he had just cleared out for Bram. Using my body to force the door shut, he used his body to pin my shoulders to the door, while his hands slid down to my belt and began unbuckling it.
Stunned, it took me a moment to process that he was attempting to get my clothes off. My face was mashed against the rough wooden door making words impossible. All I could manage were grunts of protest, but my hands were free and I used them to push his away from the buttons of my jeans.
"Be still," he hissed, getting my jeans open and pushed down my hips. His fingers deftly worked the beginning of a bulge in my shorts. "How long has it been, Mulder?"
His breath was hot against my neck. He smelled of coffee and fresh sweat, and the underlying pleasantness of a recent shower. His body was hot and powerful, his fingers sure and nimble. I tried to shut all these sensations out of my mind, but it was irresistible. He was fondling me, holding me, breathing on me, all the while asking me in a voice of concern that belied his rough determination, "How long, Mulder?"
"I...ohhhhfuck...I don't know." I caught myself pressing into his hand and I tried to pull away. "A year. Maybe more." Not much more. I could remember it exactly at that moment. An Indian summer night. A stranger, whose face I never saw. I was behind him, just as Skinner was behind me now. I don't think I was as patient. I don't think I even tried to arouse him. I just assumed he needed me in him as much as I needed to be in him. And it was over almost as quickly as it began. I wasn't in a mood to make it last. A few rough thrusts, my arms locked around his waist. Holding him tight a moment after it was through, while I regained my breath. A kiss to his sweaty neck as I slipped free of his convulsing body. If I shut my eyes I could remember his dark hair and his unseasonable leather jacket. "I don't know." I fucked him because he reminded me of Alex Krycek. I felt a sob shudder through my body.
Skinner misunderstood, I know he did. His arms tightened around me, and his voice fell to a soothing whisper. "I know. I know."
He pushed my shorts down and began a rhythm on my cock that was at once remarkably expert and almost sweetly shy. I might have lost myself in the need he was stirring there, but for the realization that with his free hand he was freeing something of his own. "Nnno," I groaned, starting to twist away from him.
"Shh," he said, and I felt something impressive and hot fall against me. "It's okay."
I fought a little harder. Because that wasn't okay. "No. Don't. I don't...I don't do that."
His fingers continued to stroke me. "A virgin, Mulder?" he chuckled softly. He was moving against me, not attempting to penetrate, just maintaining contact with me.
It was another humiliation, the way he said it, as if I had always been too selfish to take what I had willingly and sometimes carelessly gave. I shut my eyes tight and turned my face away. "Don't," I repeated, with just the tiniest break in my voice.
"Don't worry," he said, pressing against me. "I won't."
A moment later I was swimming in new feelings. His hand was rougher than I expected, calluses teasing my flesh. His body pressed and rubbed against mine, his cock working up and down between my buttocks, grunting as he slid along that valley. I wanted to fuck into his hand. I wanted to push away the door and reverse the situation, to press against him, to take him, to finish inside...
But that was unthinkable. This was Skinner. This was my boss, my protector, my...savior. This was Skinner, who was holding, whispering, soothing, taking my need and making it his own. Fixing the broken world yet again. I didn't deserve this. "Don't," I moaned again, but for an entirely different reason.
It didn't take long. There was no resisting him. My body jerked, shuddered and I came into his hand only a moment before I felt him press hard with sharp, short strokes, and let out a long, guttural sigh as something hot and sticky splashed against the small of my back. I was more humiliated than ever.
He leaned into me, his face against my shoulder, breathing hard. Then he began to laugh, softly. "Feel better?" he asked, turning to brush his cheek against my neck. It was that faint gesture of affection that undid me. I might have cried right there except I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. "Yes," I said shakily. "Thank you."
"Oh, anytime." He was still laughing as he backed off of me.
I started to turn around, but I heard him readjusting his clothing as he commanded, "Don't move." A minute later, he was wiping away his seed from my back with his sweatshirt. When he was satisfied with the job, he turned me and began to clean my groin with the same deliberateness he used for every task. "There." He pulled my shorts up and patted my crotch. "Better?"
I realized, with a small flash of gratitude that he wasn't looking at my face, my eyes. He knew how miserable I felt. He wasn't going to make it worse by acknowledging it. I fumbled for my jeans and pulled them up, clumsily stuffing my shirt back into them before working the buttons back into place. My mind was starting to clear. I was trying to be angry with him, to feel violated, but I couldn't. The truth was I wanted that. I wanted sex, and more, I wanted it with him. It was a shocking revelation, but now the deed was done, it was one I think I could live with. "Yes," I said again, with more conviction. "Thank you."
He put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Mulder. There won't be a repeat performance...unless you want it."
I nodded. "I know." Oh, fuck...just when I thought I couldn't possibly feel any worse, he found a way to make it happen. It was pity sex. I kept my eyes averted. "I..." I drew a deep breath to steady my voice, "I'd better check on Bram."
Skinner pulled the door open and listened. "He's fine. Why don't you catch a shower first?"
"Yeah...that..." Damn it, stop being so...so nice! "That's a good idea." Keeping my back to him, I knelt and opened one of the duffel bags I'd brought in, pulling out clean things.
"How is Agent Scully?" he asked, oblivious to how much I wanted him out of that room so I could kick something really hard.
"She's fine. She..." I felt embarrassed that he could see I was holding clean underwear. "She sends her regards."
"We should invite her to supper soon."
I shifted on my haunches and cast him a glance over my shoulder. "How domestic," I sneered. "Just like a real family."
He dropped to one knee and caught my shoulder, forcing me around. "We are a family now, Mulder."
I gaped. There's no nice way to describe it. My mouth fell open and I stared. "Because of..." I gestured with my shorts toward the door, "because of that?"
"No." He flicked a hand in a motion to encompass the newly emptied room. "Because of this. Because of Bram. Because of you. You're here. We're going to be a family, because we both need one. And he needs one most of all."
"But you said..."
"I was wrong."
"And now you're right?" I concluded doubtfully.
"Yes."
I shook my head. "I can't keep up with you. Let me know if you change your mind again." I stood, pushing away from him. "I'm going to take a shower."
"Mulder?"
My hand was already on the doorknob so I felt safe stopping and looking back at him. "Yes?"
He didn't look embarrassed, or sorry, or even emotionally moved in any way. He just looked his usual, matter of fact self. "That had nothing to do with it. And it won't ever happen again, unless you want it to."
I frowned. I don't know if he mistook it for disappointment or disbelief, but he stood and came toward me, stopping at a respectful distance. "Go ahead. Ask me."
I looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes. "Why did you do it?"
"Because I thought you needed it. I thought you needed the release, and the relief of knowing what it could be like, because the curiosity was paralyzing you." He waited a moment to see if I argued either point. "Did I go too far?"
I swallowed again. "No." I pulled the door open. "But don't go there again."
End Chapter Nineteen