TITLE:  Dry Heat - Part III

(26 parts - Part 17 to 26)

NAME: frogdoggie

E-MAIL: frogdoggie@hotmail.com

CATEGORY: SRA

RATING: NC-17. M/SK. SK/O This story contains SLASH. VERY GRAPHIC CONSENSUAL SEX BETWEEN MEN. So, if you don’t like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.

SUMMARY: Post colonization. Walter Skinner is on a quest of his own. Go West Mr. AD. Seek and ye shall find. Missed parts of this story? Surf here: http://www.squidge.org/3wstop.

FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? Thanks! I need to build a bonfire so I can roast a few weenies!

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: All episodes in Season 6. Fight The Future.

KEYWORDS: story angst slash Skinner Mulder NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Please see Part 1

His eyes finally fall on the barber shop sign.

"Well I guess I should face the music," he grimaces, running his hand through the rat's nest we both managed to make out of his hair. He starts to walk up towards the barber shop door.

"Yeah, you look like a member of some punk rock group," I tease, following along after him.

He gives me a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, well I could say something here about not looking like 'Mel Cooley', but I'll spare you," he replies, smirking. A small frisson passes through me when I remember the last person to call me Mel Cooley. I don't suppose Mulder is going to remember Robert Modell any time soon.

He stops for a moment and his brow furrows. His eyes become slightly unfocused for a few seconds and then he snaps back to the here and now.

"What?" I ask him.

"Pusher. I...the word just popped into my head," he replies, running a hand over his eyes.

I walk up and stand close to him, peering into his face.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, actually, I'm fine," he replies giving me a small smile. He holds out his hand to show me it's steady. "See, no shaking."

"Do you remember what Pusher means?" I ask carefully.

"It's a man, I mean Pusher was a person. I think he was involved in a case Scully and I worked on," he answers more decisively. "Yeah...I got a flash of that too for sure."

"Pusher 'was' a person - the name was a perp's alias. The guy's real name was Robert Modell. You and Scully brought him in," I inform him.

"Yes. That's definitely the feeling I got associated with the memory. Well...that's good. Uh...got him off the street, hey?"

"Big time. You and Scully were a good team, Mulder. Like I said - high solve rate."

He nods, still lost in thought a little. Then he shrugs it off.

"Enough. We said no trips down memory lane. Let's get my ears lowered," he grins, slapping me on the back. I nod and continue to follow him into the barber shop.

The barber is a corpulent elderly man with a full head of wavy white hair. He makes no comment on Mulder's haphazard haircut. He merely grunts "Have a seat," indicating the chair when Mulder tells him he wants a haircut. The chair sits in front of a large mirror along one wall. It's your typical barber shop - all the tools of the barber's trade are set out on a work station-like shelf in front of the mirror. The prices are posted handily on a sign next to the mirror. So, Mulder's getting the standard haircut for either gold or agreed upon barter.

"How do you want it?" the barber asks when Mulder's settled in the chair.

"It would be good if it was all the same length," Mulder quips, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

"No, really?" the barber dead pans and I bark a quick laugh.

"Here, maybe this will help," I suggest, reaching into the inner pocket of my leather jacket. I pull out my wallet and extract the photo of Mulder from inside. The barber takes it when I proffer it to him. He studies the photo.

"Can you cut it like that?" Mulder asks him, craning around.

The barber fixes him with a bland look.

"Does a bear shit in the woods? Yeah, I can cut it this way. It's not far from the mix-master look already now is it?" he replies, handing me back the photo.

Mulder is about to make another smart-assed comment but I give him the look and he holds back his words.

I slip the photo carefully back into my wallet and then my wallet gets tucked back into my pocket. The barber ceremoniously places a drape over Mulder's seated form, takes up his scissors and proceeds to salvage a disaster.

"So, what do you think?" Mulder asks me after we've left the shop and stand outside on the stone walkway. He runs his hand through his closely cropped spikes, an eyebrow raised in my direction.

"It's you," I dead pan.

"Oh thanks," Mulder grumbles looking off down the street.

"No seriously, it's fine. It looks just like the photo. I'm just yanking your chain."

He nods and grins a little at me.

"It's a hell of a lot better than that Joan Crawford look I was sporting earlier," he observes.

"You've got that right. Listen, you up for some shopping?"

"Sure. That the General Store down there?" he asks, pointing down the street.

"Yeah. Let's go," I nod and we amble down towards 'Jackson's Supply Depot'.

As we walk, side by side down the street, we pass the darkened Inferno Tavern. The Dark Horse is further down on the same side and a ways past the General Store. Evidently the Inferno is an evenings only place. This evening they'll be getting a lot of business since the Dark Horse will be closed for the party.

"So the Dark Horse is where we're going for lunch?" Mulder asks making conversation.

"Right," I reply.

"So I can meet your friends?"

"Audrey Reid, her husband Bill and her brother David," I reply glancing at him.

He seems lost in thought again.

"Is that a problem?" I ask, watching his reaction out of the corner of my eye.

"No...uh...I was just thinking that outside of you, I don't know a single soul on Earth...or off of it either, I guess. Sorry...I don't mean to be maudlin. It just struck me that's all. I'm a little rusty at the friendship thing," he answers, catching my eyes. The implication is heavy in his voice. He feels a little rusty with the idea of our friendship as well. I'm hoping I can make him realize he's doing really well at being my friend again, and I'm enjoying his company.

"These are good people Mulder. I think they're willing to consider us both friends. Don't worry about it. It'll be ok. You...I don't think you're too rusty. You're doing fine with the 'friendship' thing as far as I'm concerned."

He touches my shoulder gently for just a moment and nods but makes no further comment for a few seconds. We walk on and then he speaks again, his voice more upbeat.

"Nice of them to invite us to the party."

"Yes, it was," I agree.

We finally talked about tonight's party at breakfast with Kurtz this morning. Kurtz has been invited as well. It sounds like it's going to be a good time. Mulder seems excited about attending it as well.

"Yeah, I guess all in all it'll be good to get out of the hotel room and socialize. If nothing else it might help me to remember more," he adds hopefully.

"There always is that possibility. Besides, the food at the Dark Horse is great and the music is fantastic. It really should be a good party."

Mulder nods and we walk on in companionable silence.

In Jackson's Supply we manage to find 2 pairs of jeans, a package of 3 Fruit of the Looms Briefs, a 6 pack of white athletic socks and 3 white Hanes T-shirts that will fit Mulder. All of it looks like it either fell off the back of a truck on Godwillin's main street or was bartered at some point. The clothing is serviceable though. The underwear at least is still in the plastic packages. The jeans are obviously recycled but they've been washed and aren't too worn. I only manage to locate one pair of jeans that will fit me. But I luck out finding a long-sleeved white shirt for myself and one in Mulder's size as well. I seize on an idea upon finding the dress shirts. I also buy two western string ties that are on a rack near the front of the store and two belts hanging nearby. If we're going to a party tonight the least we can do is look a little classy. I don't let on that I've purchased these particular sartorial items. I want to surprise Mulder later with them. Lastly, I also pick up some new Hanes T-shirts for myself. I guess, despite the haul, I will be asking Kurtz if I can use his laundry facilities. My jeans are definitely going to need washing.

Our last lucky find is a pair of steel tipped yellow Timberland work boots in Mulder's size. If he's going to be riding the bike he's going to need tougher footwear then the black Converse All-Stars sneakers he's currently wearing.

Our purchases made, we haul everything back to the bike and lock it all in the saddlebags. By this time it's almost noon. It's hot and I remove my leathers and lock them up in the luggage rack container as well. Both of us admit that we're growing hungry as we stow the clothing. We climb back on the bike and drive it the few short blocks it takes to find a parking place outside the Dark Horse Tavern.

I park the bike again and Mulder and I start to walk towards the tavern door. Just before we reach it, David Peabody opens the door and comes out.

"Hey, Skinner," he greets me heartily.

"David," I nod and smile at him.

"You going in to eat lunch?"

"Yeah, is Audrey serving it now?" I ask, glancing at my Timex. It's 11:45 - maybe she doesn't start serving until noon on the dot I ponder.

"She's started serving. I just finished. I had to eat early today because I have a rush job on for this afternoon. Have a bowl of the lamb stew. It's great," he suggests. He stops on the street in front of us and I watch him eyeing up Mulder.

"Thanks, we will. David, this is Fox Mulder. Mulder...David Peabody, Audrey's brother."

Mulder extends his hand and David takes it.

"Nice to meet you," Mulder says, nodding briskly.

"Same here. Glad to see you're up and around. Walter told me you had a rough time of it. You doing ok now?" David replies, shaking Mulder's hand firmly. There's genuine concern on his face, but also an appraising look. I know even though it may be unconscious David is sizing up what he considers the competition.

Mulder is studying him as well. He glances at me when David calls me Walter. He shakes David's hand in a friendly manner however, and his voice betrays no other idea than appreciation at his concern.

"Thanks. I feel a lot better. I'm going to try to make that party tonight for sure. Thanks for the invitation."

David smiles then, showing his good humor once again as he releases Mulder's hand.

"Great. It's going to be a night I think. We're going to have a Zydeco band and I guess they do some rock as well. At any rate, I think you two will enjoy yourselves."

"I'm sure we will," I interject. I consider that we should bring Audrey a gift since it's her birthday. I'll have to give that a thought here while we're in town.

Mulder, as if reading my mind asks, "Should we bring a gift? I understand it's your sister's birthday."

David laughs. "No, don't bring her a gift. She pitches a fit. You know - she's one of those people who says 'Oh you shouldn't have' - and means it. Just show up and party hard. That'll please her the most."

"We can do that," I chuckle. Mulder's stomach growls suddenly and David bursts into laughter.

"Man, I'd better let you two go eat. Later. Nice meeting you Fox," he finishes, taking his leave.

I watch as Mulder frowns at the use of his first name. I clap him on the shoulder and his brow clears.

"Come on, let's eat," I smile at him. He returns the smile and follows me into the Dark Horse Tavern.

The place is moderately full with an early lunch crowd. Audrey is waiting tables and a younger man is tending bar this afternoon.

"Skinner," Audrey greets us, a smile on her face. "Take any available table, I'll be with you all in a second."

Mulder and I seat ourselves at a table set for two near the door. The AC feels good in here. It's on full force this afternoon. I sit down and stretch my legs out, flexing my thigh muscles in pleasure. I feel relaxed and a contentment that I haven't felt in a long time fills me. I really am enjoying myself. Just having Mulder back near me is a fantastic turn of events. It's not easy dealing with his amnesia but he does seem to be having flashes of remembering so I can only retain some optimism that he'll regain it all. Right at the moment I feel like anything is possible and my heart fills with joy at that prospect.

I tap my fingers on the table in a little tattoo, looking around the room and taking in the crowd. Mulder follows my eyes. I smile and turn to him again, stopping my drumming on the wood.

"Did you bring an antibiotic? You should still be taking them you know," I ask him pleasantly.

"Yes, Nurse Skinner," he chuckles, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a little piece of folded up toilet paper. "As soon as I get something to drink it'll be down the hatch."

I smile at him again. I know I'm grinning like an idiot but I feel so damn good I don't care. I look around some more until I catch Mulder studying my face quizzically.

"What?" I ask him again, straightening in the chair and chuckling at the amused look on his face.

"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary or something, Skinner."

I laugh. "Well don't knock it, Mulder. I used to have the reputation for being a real taciturn son of a bitch. I'm showing you my better side. I hope you appreciate it," I reply, fake sarcasm teasing in my voice.

"Oh. I thought maybe you had gas," he replies, grinning wide.

"Yeah, well you used to give me gas, Mulder. But...I've learned to overlook your more contentious tendencies."

"So I was a pain in the ass on the job?" he fixes me with his intelligent hazel eyes and once again I feel a warmth in my groin that this time I let percolate there.

I trap his eyes and let him see in mine just a little of what I feel for him. It may be risky, but I'm going to test the waters. I'm gambling because I'm not very good at flirting or come-ons. I never was good. My methods usually consisted of growling "Wanna fuck?" in a guy's ear. But Mulder was a master at the tease. He could get me harder than steel just by looking at me with hooded eyes or running his tongue down over that full lower lip of his. Right now I'm trying to take a lesson from his book and be a little subtle. I hope to hell it works. I don't want to look like some love struck teenager on the make while I run my test.

So, I give staring into his eyes my best shot. I'm betting that his body will remember what his mind might not recall. I let my lips curl up in a tiny smile. He used to like that too - when I was hinting at smiling before I'd show him all my pearly whites. I see his pupils dilate. Bingo. All right, that's promising. His body is responding even though his face doesn't betray any idea that I'm trying to see if he remembers his attraction to me.

"You were a royal pain," I rumble still looking at him. "But it was why you were so successful at what you did on the job, Mulder. I wouldn't have had it any other way," I reply, leaning forward a little.

He continues to stare at me and I see him struggling with it now, the idea that he's experiencing arousal for a man. He lets his eyes roam over my face for a moment, confusion mixed with surprise, passing across his features. When he shifts in his seat I know why too. I want to rearrange things in my pants myself right now. But I don't - I'm afraid it will ruin the moment. Mulder speaks again and I concentrate on his voice.

"But...you must have known my private side...I mean known me socially as well...you said we were practically brothers...was I...well I guess I'm just asking if I was really a genuine friend to you. I'm sorry, that's probably a stupid question. You...obviously you like me or you wouldn't be helping me," he replies looking down with a self-deprecating shake of his head.

I reach across the table and gently touch the back of his hand. I feel a tremor in it when my fingers touch his skin. The touch is electric. His head snaps up and something passes across his face that makes me want to take him back to the motel room and fuck him senseless.

"Mulder, you were...in private you were..." just as I'm about to finish my sentence Audrey comes over to our table. Damn. I like this woman but right now she has really bad timing. I take my hand off his and sit back as she greets us.

"So, this must be Fox Mulder," she exclaims, patting Mulder on the shoulder.

Mulder blinks and turns his head away from me. His attention is instantly drawn to Audrey. He smiles at her and reaches out his hand. She withdraws hers from his shoulder and takes his outstretched hand, shaking it up and down vigorously.

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Reid," he replies, slightly flummoxed by her easy friendliness.

"It's Audrey, Fox. Welcome to Godwillin. I'm pleased to meet you too. Skinner's told me a lot about you," she replies, letting his hand drop.

"It's...uh...I usually go by Mulder, Audrey, if you don't mind. And I hope Skinner hasn't been telling you what a pain in the ass I am," he grins over at me.

I look at him in amazement for a split-second. He's made the complete connection about not liking his first name so easily I almost missed the significance. I grin back at him and decide to join in the banter, my good humor elevated further.

"Only the usual - like what a picky eater you are - how you send food back to the kitchen routinely and..."

"You are so full of bullshit," Mulder laughs heartily. "You know I eat my meals like a starved dog. Audrey, I'm not picky. I'm ready to eat a horse here."

"Well we have lamb today, Mulder, how would that suit you?"

"David recommended the lamb stew," I throw in.

"I won't be modest - it's outstanding. My husband Bill's the cook, Mulder. He puts lots of vegetables in the stew along with the lamb. Would you each like a bowl? It comes with a big piece of corn bread, and iced tea this afternoon all for the price on the sign," she replies gesturing with her head towards the sign in back of the bar. The price is more than reasonable.

"I think that'll suit me fine," Mulder replies, nodding at her.

"It'll work for me too," I add, smiling at Audrey.

"OK, coming right up. Oh - and you're both coming to my party tonight, right?" she adds, raising her eyebrows at Mulder.

"Wouldn't miss it," I reply.

"Good. I was hoping so. Otherwise I'd have had to do a little finger wagging at you."

Mulder chuckles and so do I.

"I'd like to thank you for inviting me," Mulder says.

Audrey looks down at him with gentle kindness in her face. She grows serious when she answers him.

"My pleasure. I just wanted you all to know that Godwillin's a good town...not one where...well where bounty hunters usually bring in their quarry and beat them senseless. We're not that kind of place, Mulder. I just wanted you to know that I guess."

Mulder nods and smiles up at her.

"I appreciate that, Audrey, everyone...everyone's been very kind..." he lets his voice trail off and he looks down at his hands. All of us are silent for a moment and then Audrey pats Mulder's shoulder.

"That's fine, hon. I'll go get your food," she whispers and then she heads back toward the kitchen.

Mulder sighs.

"Sorry, I kind of ran out of steam there," he murmurs.

"No problem," I reply, fiddling with the fork at my place-setting.

Mulder looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders again. I straighten up again in my chair, and make an attempt to improve the mood.

"Look, Mulder. After the party tonight what do you say we have a good long talk? I'm pretty confident that you're not going to seize again..."

"I think I have control over it," he nods.

"I think so too. So what do you say we go back to the room and we'll see if we can jog your memory some more?"

I'm thinking we can go back to the room and hopefully I'll be able to explain how much I love him and want him to remember our relationship. Maybe...maybe that's what will bring the rest of his memories flooding back as well. I watch his face but I already know his answer.

"That would be great," he nods. "I'd...thank you," he adds quietly.

"Here comes Audrey with our food," I reply softly, as I spot her progress across the tavern. She's carrying two bowls and the iced teas on a tray.

Mulder cranes his head around and sniffs the air like a hunting dog.

"Oh man, that does smell good," he smiles.

xXx

I'm standing at the urinal in the can still contemplating the excellent meal and the great day we're having together as the door to the room swings shut behind me. Mulder just left the bathroom, whistling the theme from the Addams Family. I could hardly get my dick out to piss I was laughing so hard. Oh sure, I know, it wasn't that funny but...well I'm just basking in Mulder's company.

I finally get things underway, sighing as my piss stream hits porcelain. A guy comes in as I'm finishing up. I shake off, and tuck myself away. Once I'm zipped in again, I flush the urinal and turn around. It's one of Sheriff Garrity's deputies. I nod in greeting and he nods back as he passes me on the way to one of the urinals. He must be here for lunch as well I think as I wash my hands. There's a roll of paper towels on a shelf near the sinks. I rip one off and dry my hands. I toss the paper towel into the trash can on my way out the door.

As I'm coming back from the men's room, I see Sheriff Dan Garrity standing by our table talking to Mulder. A cold feeling crawls up my back. All the good vibrations I've been having turn discordant in a matter of seconds. I can tell Mulder is agitated. He's gesturing at the sheriff with both hands. I feel my jaw tense as I hasten my step. I reach the table just as Mulder is speaking.

"Well we can go right now, Skinner should be...oh here he is."

"Mr. Mulder...you don't understand..." Garrity is saying.

"What's going on?" I ask looking from one to the other.

"Spender came out of it. He's asking to see 'Assistant Director' Skinner and only 'Assistant Director' Skinner," Garrity replies, looking pointedly at me first and then Mulder, his mouth set in a grim, tight line.

xXx

Mulder and I wait in Garrity's outer office area while Garrity, his two deputies and Dr. Laub take Spender from his cell to the small conference room they have set aside for interviewing prisoners.

Mulder is pacing, nervous energy radiating off him like a supernova. I'm seated on a bench along the wall, my head back against the plaster, rubbing my fingers up under my glasses.

"I wish I knew why he didn't ask to see me," Mulder mumbles for the third time in as many minutes.

"Mulder, I'll try to ask him, all right? Relax," I sigh, tilting my head forward again and readjusting my glasses on my nose.

Spender wouldn't talk to anyone else or divulge any further information after he gave up just the basics. It was almost name, rank and serial number according to Garrity. He really does want to talk to me and only me it seems.

"I mean you'd think after what happened..." Mulder mused.

"Mulder, sit down, please," I hiss, motioning to a spot next to me on the bench.

Mulder runs a hand over his mouth and traverses the space between us with a few quick strides. He plops down next to me and tilts his head back in imitation of my previous position. It's obvious my earlier tentative attempts to re-approach him in a more personal way have been at least temporarily forgotten. Gone is the boyish, fun-loving and yes, aroused Mulder of this afternoon. In his place is the obsessed, driven Mulder of the before times. The Mulder whose single-minded purpose was the X-Files and his quest for the truth above all else.

"I'm sitting, all right?" he replies, snapping the words off one by one.

"I'll try to find out as much as I can," I reply as neutrally as possible. "It's the best I can do. Laub said I can talk to him for a short time. You know he said he seems lucid right now but..."

"I know but...he could lose it again and 'zone out' as he put it."

"Exactly. Then we might never get any more information out of him. So, I need to tread carefully."

"God, I'm sick of pussyfooting around this shit," he snarls, straightening up to look at me.

"You and me both at this point," I snarl back, glaring at him with equal impatience.

We stare at each other in annoyance for a few moments and then Mulder's shoulders sag.

"Oh hell. Skip it. I don' t mean to browbeat you here. It's just that...well you know. Spender's the only one that might be able to tell me about Atlanta...about what they did to my head."

"I'll find out all I can," I assure him again. He nods and Garrity comes back in the room.

"All right, Skinner, he's ready. Mulder...I'm sorry but I need to have you wait out here," Garrity brusquely tells us.

Mulder sags back against the wall, stretching his long legs out, settling in to wait without comment.

Garrity takes him in for a second or two and then inclines his head, motioning me to follow him. I slap Mulder lightly on the thigh and rise, walking away and through the door that leads towards the conference room.

We walk only a short way to a doorway on the left.

"Ok. Like Dr. Laub said earlier - he seems lucid right now. But watch your step. We don't know if he'll stay that way. But I suppose you know a lot about interrogation don't you?" Garrity ends his warning with a question. His face is tense and somewhat hostile.

"What does that mean?"

Garrity clears his throat.

"Spender finally agreed to come across with some additional information after my other deputy Randy told him we'd gone to get you. I was just in there getting an update for myself."

"And?" I ask, fixing him with a hard stare.

"Spender has admitted to his whereabouts over the last several weeks including the trip to Atlanta. I can also tell you he does seem to remember some stuff from the before times now. He insists he was FBI Agent Jeffrey Spender at one point and that he worked for you, Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner. I thought maybe he knew you because you busted him or something. But shit...you were his boss? Is that true, Walter?" Garrity asks me, sotto voice so they won't hear us inside the room.

I can tell he's angry. I left out this information and he thinks it may have a bearing on the case against Spender. If there were extenuating circumstances for his madness involving me he needs to know it. I'm sure he doesn't want to shoot Spender in the head if there's any chance now he can be rehabilitated somehow and I might be the key to the means.

"Dan, it's true. I was an Assistant Director at the FBI," I reply tersely. As ex-LAPD I'm surprised he doesn't recognize me quite frankly. I was on the news out there in Lotus Land more than once during local and national press conferences. "Didn't you ever see me on the tube? I wasn't always stuck behind a desk back in those days. I had to deal with the press on more than one occasion, both in LA and Nationally."

"Hey, I was a street cop. I didn't pay attention to what the dicks or the big boys in the upper echelon were doing with the feds. I had all I could do to patrol my beat. So no, I didn't catch your 15 minutes of fame during some press conference. Besides...how different did you look back then, Walter? I'd bet you didn't wear biker's leathers on camera."

I sigh.

"Yeah, I guess you have a point there. Ok, yeah...Spender was one of my agents. He was also working with the architects of this brave new world, Garrity," I reply sighing.

"He was a collaborator?" he asks raising an eyebrow.

"Misguided, but yes. His father...Spender Sr. was a prime cog in the big wheel of colonization. Spender...Spender thought he was a chip off the old block. He was mistaken."

Garrity leans against the wall and folds his arms.

"Why didn't you tell me this before, Walter?" he asks quietly, anger still just below the surface of his voice.

"Because I didn't think it was important. I lost track of Spender Jr. years ago. I thought he was dead in point of fact. I don't know if that's a real memory or something I picked up during internment. In any event, I haven't seen Agent Spender in almost 7 years. I remember his father though. The last time I saw him I was putting a bullet in his skull outside Renton, Washington, when the last damn Mothership was leaving terra firma," I reply, bitterness weighing heavily in my words.

Garrity studies my face as I pin his eyes. We challenge each other for a moment and then he looks away and at the door.

"All right, fine. I wish you'd told us this before but I guess it might not have any bearing directly on this case. But obviously Spender has issues with you. He asked to see you specifically almost immediately after he came back to reality."

"I understand that. I'm perfectly willing to talk to him and I'm also willing to ask him the questions you want me to ask about the case," I reply.

"Good. See that you do. And Skinner - if I find out there's something you did to this man in the past that reduced him to this...this state...I'll...I'll have your ass in a sling," Garrity replies, resignation seeping into his voice. He relaxes fractionally and straightens up off the wall.

He's making a show of it now. I think he believes me but he's blustering to make sure I know he's serious just in case. He's hedging his bets. Fine. I can live with that idea. He needs to cover all the bases and if that means covering his ass too I guess he's justified in doing it out here in the wild and woolly West.

"I haven't seen Spender in almost 7 years," I reply doggedly. "Believe whatever you want. I didn't have anything to do with the fact he's crazier than a shithouse rat," I growl, drawing myself up, my back ramrod stiff.

I can still put on AD Skinner when I need to do it. My AD persona is very similar to the bad-ass muther persona that I effect on the road. It just wears a starched white shirt and wool power suit instead of tight, black leather.

Garrity raises an eyebrow.

"Well I guess I can believe the bit about your being an AD. All right. We'd better go in and see what Mr. Spender has to say before he goes 'shithouse rat crazy' again."

When we enter the room all eyes are upon us. Randy, the deputy, Dr. Laub who I did talk to earlier, and Jeffrey Spender stare at me. Someone dressed Jeffrey in a T-shirt and jeans at some point. At least he's not sitting here in his briefs. Spender attempts to rise up out of his chair and the deputy tries to push him back down. Spender's arms and legs are handcuffed by a chain to a leg of the table. The table is bolted to the floor. Spender struggles against both the deputy's hands and the cuffs.

"Sir, I don't understand why I'm being held. Can you explain that I'm...that I was...an FBI agent and I don't have a clue why..."

"Agent Spender, sit down!" I bark in command.

Spender rocks back and sits down heavily.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now....if you'll stay calm we'll try to straighten this out. Can you stay calm, Jeff?" I add, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

"Yes sir, I can stay calm. Thank you sir," he sighs sagging back in his restraints. Then he looks at Garrity and the deputy. He turns back to me, a look of pleading in his eyes.

"Do they have to stay in here, sir?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?" I reply, watching his face. His eyes seem clear but he's sweating a lot even though it's air conditioned back here. He's obviously still under stress. I guess we will have to take this slowly.

Spender leans forward and replies in a quiet voice, "I don't trust them, sir...you know...my father...well...he has operatives everywhere."

Oh brother. Ok, so he doesn't know his father is dead. I also get the idea that he's not quite sure this isn't the before times. Maybe I'd better ask him to see if he's really as lucid as Laub indicated.

"Jeff...these men are with me. I can vouch for them. You know the Bureau doesn't exist anymore, right? It was disbanded after the grays made their move in July of 1999."

Spender's brow furrows. He reaches up and strokes the scar on his forehead for a moment. When he lowers his hand again he answers.

"Yeah...uh...I knew that...but...you're still the Assistant Director right? I did report to you right?" he asks, his voice shaky.

"It's all right, Jeff, he's still the Assistant Director," Laub interjects in a soothing voice. Spender looks down at his hands and releases a shuddering breath.

I look from the doctor to Garrity and shake my head to indicate I don't think this man is all here. Garrity tilts his chin toward Spender telling me he wants me to continue with the questioning. Ok, it's his funeral I think, shrugging.

"Yes, I'm still Assistant Director, Agent Spender. I just have...a few new men working under me. These men are loyal. You have nothing to fear from them."

Spender looks up at me, his eyes filled with the need to believe me.

"It's been difficult...I haven't been able to trust anyone in a long time. After Atlanta I wasn't sure I could ever trust anyone again," he replies.

"Suppose you tell us what happened with you and Agent Mulder in Atlanta, Agent Spender. That might be a good place to start," Garrity interrupts.

I give Garrity a stern look. I'd rather he didn't anticipate what I might want to ask Spender here. I wouldn't have mentioned Mulder's name at this juncture. I would have preferred to see if Spender mentioned it or insisted on referring to Mulder as Diana again. It would be a very clear indication of his mental state.

"Agent Mulder?" he whispers looking at Garrity. "Yes...I thought it was Mulder at first..." he lets his voice trail off and his eyes become a little less clear.

"Who did you find in Atlanta, Jeff?" I ask quietly. Spender refocuses on me and his face breaks into a strange beatific smile.

"I found Diana in Atlanta," he replies, exhaling slowly.

"Oh brother," Garrity's deputy sighs.

"Shut up, Randy!" Garrity snaps instantly and the deputy gives him a contrite look.

Spender takes no notice of the exchange. He has a handcuffed hand pulled up onto the tabletop and he's running a finger back and forth over the wood in an absentminded fashion. He's still talking and he's addressing his meandering words to me.

"I never told you sir, that...that Agent Fowley and I were...together near the end there. I mean...lovers. I apologize for not telling you. Um...but she...she was uncomfortable...you know...it might be held against us by a lot of people and I just don't mean people at the Bureau."

Christ. Fowley was fucking him and his father? Evidently. I wonder if he knew his old man was doing her too? Mulder had a love/hate relationship with Diana Fowley for a long time. It changed to his despising her near the end. I wonder if that's what happened with Spender as well.

"You missed her didn't you, Jeff?" I prompt him in order to find out.

He stops running his finger on the table and looks up at me.

"I was dead without her," he whispers. "she...she's so beautiful you know. All that long, brown hair. I really love her hair."

Garrity tries to catch my eye and I studiously ignore him. I'm getting to the core of the matter here. The sad fact that Spender is really delusional and I'm not sure he's ever coming back from it. Whatever happened to him, either deliberate or accidental and left that scar, didn't leave much of the old Jeffrey Spender intact I'm afraid. It shouldn't take much to demonstrate my theory if Garrity will just let me stick to my line of questioning.

"Did you find her in a tank down in Atlanta? I mean was she in a cryopod?"

He nods slightly and replies, "She was so cold. She had...had one of those God damned tubes down her throat. I pulled it out. At first...you know at first I...well between her legs....I thought...but no...it was Diana. Later I knew it was her," he nods vigorously.

"So you brought her back here?"

"I had to get my stuff and then I was going to take her home...home...home to..."

he shakes his head a second and looks at Dr. Laub. "I still don't remember where I used to live," he comments matter-of-factly.

"It's ok, Jeff. We'll work on that bit. It'll be fine."

Spender swallows hard and continues.

"So, I brought her back here. She looked fantastic in the red dress. Just...great," he smiles at me.

"You loved her very much didn't you, Jeff?" I ask.

"I loved...love her..." his voice stops and his brow furrows deeply.

"What happened when you tried to show her you loved her, Jeff?" I ask in a neutral voice. This is the crux of the matter. I figure he was so zoned out he thought Mulder was Diana and when he didn't respond to his sexual advances he went off the deep end and went off on Mulder. I watch Spender's hands twitch spastically in his cuffs. They close slowly into fists as he answers.

"She...she didn't want to make love with me. She...I rescued her and...bought her the clothes...kept her safe and secure...and she...she wouldn't let me touch her. I mean what would you think if your lover won't...wouldn't touch you unless you held a gun to her head. She...Christ someone must have made her hate me."

"Jeff...it's ok," Dr. Laub moves forward a little to comfort him. Spender jumps and smashes his fist down hard on the table..

"IT'S NOT OK. SHE HATES ME. SHE....SHE MADE ME HIT HER, THE BITCH!" he shouts.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Dr. Laub insists instantly.

"But..." I start to argue.

"No 'Buts', Mr. Skinner. This man is my patient," Laub snaps. "I will not have you agitating him this way."

I put my hands up in the air in a placating gesture as Laub reaches down for the medical bag he has sitting at his feet. Spender begins to rock back and forth in his chair as Laub opens the bag and brings out a syringe.

"Are you going to sedate him?" Garrity asks.

"Yes. I'm hoping when he wakes up again he'll be more tractable."

Whatever, I think. Personally I'd just let him rock and drool. I don't think he's going to be much good for anything else even if he does come round again.

I get up out of my chair as Laub and the deputy move to steady Spender for the injection.

"Come on, Walter," Garrity shakes his head, indicating the door. I follow him. He opens the door and walks right into Mulder who was obviously listening outside. Shit.

"What the fuck?" Garrity exclaims.

"Whoa," Mulder grunts, dancing with Garrity for a moment as they nearly collide. I step back to give them space to extricate themselves and when I do there's an incoherent cry from the room behind us.

"Gggggod! DIANA!" Spender howls, his voice rising on Fowley's name. He begins to buck against both the deputy and Laub like a roped wild mustang.

"Hold him, hold him," Laub shouts nervously as he tries to position the needle.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO YOUR HAIR!" Spender continues to wail, spitting saliva out as he jerks violently against his chains.

"Jesus! Hold him still," Laub grinds out again.

"I'm trying," the deputy growls, yanking on the chains that bind the struggling Spender's arms.

Garrity is trying to push Mulder aside and back down the hall but quite clearly, my lover has lost it as well. His face is scarlet with anger and he's quickly shouting back at the top of his lungs.

"I'M NOT DIANA YOU CRAZY FUCKER! I'M MULDER. FOX MULDER!"

"I LOVE YOU! YOU...YOU'RE NOT...NOT...HIM!" Spender screams.

"OH YES I AM, YOU SICK FUCK! YOU GOT A GOOD LOOK BETWEEN MY LEGS. DID YOU SEE A CUNT THERE YOU..."

"MULDER! THAT'S ENOUGH!" I shout loudly bulling my way past Garrity to grab Mulder by the T-shirt. He stops yelling instantly and stands shaking in my grasp his chest rising and falling like a bellows.

"YOU BITCH. I HATE YOU!" Spender is raving behind us.

"Shut the fucking door!" I hiss at Garrity. He slams the door shut on Laub finally getting the needle into Spender's arm and shooting his sleepy time juice home.

Spender lets out a few more tremulous bleats of "DIANA!" and "YOU SLUT!" and then suddenly he's silent.

I turn Mulder around and take his arm, propelling him down the hallway.

"That was way out of line, Mulder. Way out of line," I bluster. Garrity follows us a step or two behind.

Mulder shakes off my hand.

"Leave me alone...'sir'. As you so succinctly put it before...the Bureau is defunct...you don't command me now. So, get off my back," he snarls, walking on ahead of me and out into the main room of the sheriff's station.

I start to follow him but Garrity takes my shoulder. I turn and confront him.

"Why don't you get him out of here, Walter. He's...he's strung up pretty tight himself. This can't be good for him. Take him someplace and let him cool down. Get his mind off things. We'll...we'll take care of Spender. When and if he comes back around we'll assess the situation at that point and decide what else can be done."

I nod at him, tired all of a sudden. Yeah, getting Mulder out of here is a good idea. We need to decompress, both of us, I think. My guts are wound up in knots as well.

"All right. Thanks, Dan. I hope Spender's salvageable. I really do mean that. He was a good man in the end. He tried to do the right thing even if it was too late."

"I understand. We'll keep him on ice."

I nod and turn to find Mulder.

xXx

Mulder isn't in the outer office area so I go on outside through the main entrance. He's out on the street parked right along with the Harley. We'd moved the bike over here when we came to interview Spender. Mulder's sitting on the seat, his head in his hands. As I draw near, he speaks.

"I lost it, didn't I?"

"I'm not going to minimize it, Mulder. You fucked up but good. Did you hear everything he said in there?"

"All of it," he sighs, straightening up. His eyes are haunted as he looks at me.

"Do you remember him untanking you now?"

"All of it," he repeats running a hand through his closely cropped hair.

"Do you remember anything else?"

He sighs.

"Flashes. I remember Scully being in some kind of tank too. But...that was earlier I think. It was as cold as a son of a bitch where she was..."

"Antarctica. You were both in Antarctica."

"Fuck me. Yeah...something about a bee sting," he replies looking off over main street. Waves of emotion pass over his face and then he shakes his head.

"Nothing else...not a single damn thing else," he whispers dejectedly.

I walk over and gently touch his shoulder. His head swivels back around and he stares at my hand. When he looks up into my eyes there's a question there. It's a question that right at this moment I don't think we'd better try to answer. I take my hand away and he looks down at the ground again.

"Look...forget it. I think Spender's a hopeless case anyway, to be brutally honest. We...we've found out pretty much all he has to offer in my opinion. So...just forget it," I sigh.

He nods, still clearly miserable.

"Ok, how about this?" I ask trying to make my voice upbeat. "I promised you a ride on the Harley. Come on...let's get a six pack of that bottled water we saw in the General Store and take a ride up the road," I offer.

"A ride?" he replies, looking back up, amusement mixed with amazement in his voice.

"Yeah, come on. I have something I want to show you," I answer.

He shrugs and levers off the bike. We walk back to the General Store to purchase the water.

The bike roars up the highway, eating up the pavement, Mulder and I quiet as the wind blows in our faces. I drive past the gas station I passed on the way in to Godwillin and about 10 more miles up the road to a landmark I also passed on the way in. There's a fairly high outcropping of rock here, one of the few raised land features for miles around.

I steer the Harley into the shade at the base of the outcropping, brake, and cut the engine. Mulder climbs off the back, removes his helmet and looks around.

"Interesting rock," he observes sarcastically.

"The rock isn't what I wanted you to see," I reply quietly, setting the kickstand and getting off the bike.

"We need to climb to the top," I tell him walking off and not waiting for him to follow. The top of the outcropping is flat. You can see the plain below rather well from up there. I start to work my way up, using convenient hand and toe holds and rocks that act as natural stepping stones. I hear Mulder place the helmet on the seat of the bike and then his steps following me.

When we reach the top, I point off over the plain below as Mulder reaches my side.

"That's what I wanted you to see," I gesture, turning to gauge his response to the sight below.

Stretched out before us are lines carved into the desert floor. Lines in patterns that could be man-made but I know aren't of this Earth at all. Lines to guide. Lines that mark this patch of desert as a huge landing strip for one of the damn starships that came to Earth and abducted most of her population. I still remember the swirling lines of that landing strip in Renton, Washington. Those lines glowed bright the night I shot the cigarette smoking bastard and sent him to hell. I wonder about when these glowed at night too, I muse as Mulder surveys the gray's handiwork.

"Nazca lines," Mulder whispers.

"Something like that," I nod. Mulder expounded about the lines in Peru several times over the years so I know the reference. But those lines were ancient - maybe the markings left from an earlier visit as a signal that we were prime pickings. Whatever. These are a hell of a lot more recent.

"But these are recent," Mulder adds, echoing my thoughts.

"Oh yeah..." I let my voice trail off.

"Do you remember?" Mulder asks quietly as I stare off over the plain below.

"I remember," I reply quietly. "I remember being in a holding pen with at least a hundred other people. A hundred or more bodies pressed together. Everyone was terrified, myself included although...well you probably don't remember but I was a Marine years ago. Marines...soldiers hold it in, keep it buttoned up tight...so showing fear just wasn't something I was prepared to do. But I was as scared shitless as everyone else. Many people were quiet but just as many wailed continuously for lost loved ones. The din was terrible. The din and the smell of blood, urine, vomit and...well you get the picture. Christ. It was like something out of a painting by Hieronymous Bosch, or maybe one of those Bedlam engravings by Hogarth."

"At any rate, so many people were weeping. I remember one woman...a black woman...crying for her little girl. Somehow...somehow they'd been separated and she couldn't find her anywhere. I held that young mother's hand and she quieted a little. Comforting her helped steady me too. There was this kid as well - I don't know - about 16 years old. He'd lost it. He kept going on and on about 'Star Wars' and 'ET' and 'Starman' - every stupid science fiction film about benevolent aliens he'd probably ever seen. He kept calling me Dad. "Dad, they're friendly, right?" He kept repeating that over and over. Finally some asshole asked him if he'd ever seen 'Independence Day.' I hit the man. I just couldn't watch that kid vomiting on the ground and not give the dickhead some payback."

Mulder shifts next to me and I feel him take my hand gently in his. I grip his hand tight.

"So there we stood, pressed against the fence like cattle. Men and women, children, the old, the young...babies even, waiting and watching one of these landing strips glowing in a dark flat field within the confines of Fort Detrick, Maryland. I thought I could smell the sea a little but it may have just been wishful thinking. We weren't that close to the Maryland shore. When the crowd quieted I even thought I heard the sound of the ocean waves. I thought I heard the roar of the Atlantic anyway...until everyone started to look up. That's when I saw the lights and I knew it wasn't waves I was hearing at all."

"It was the ship?" Mulder whispers.

"Fucking transport ship, yeah," I breathe out. "It homed in and used that glowing landing strip to make a three point perfect landing, Mulder. Then the guards came - dozens of them - all armed National Guard soldiers. Somehow they separated us - mostly by using rifle butts. The old or very young, the infirm, they were all left behind in the pen. Those of us singled out were dragged off to the buildings there at Fort Detrick. I looked back and I saw that boy and the young black woman too still behind the fence. The woman...she'd found her little girl at last and she wouldn't leave her. The kid was only about three years old. So, the soldiers left her holding the baby close and they shut the gate. I watched while.. while the other people in the pen...the boy and that woman...the little girl..."

I can't go on anymore. I pull my hand away from Mulder and shake my head in negation of the memory. The memory of National Guard soldiers who I hope, to this day, weren't really human, opening up on unarmed United States civilians and mowing them down like animals.

"Jesus," Mulder whispers. "And that's where...where they bioteched you?"

"Yeah, that came later, but right, Fort Detrick is where I became a better bionic man."

Mulder falls silent and just shakes his head.

"It's getting hot up here. I need a drink," I finish turning to leave the top of the rock.

Mulder follows me back down and we take refuge in the shade next to the Harley. I pull the six pack of water out of one of the saddlebags and pull two bottles off. I toss one to Mulder and he catches it deftly. Both of us twist off the caps. I sip mine first.

"Sorry, it's a little warm," I apologize.

Mulder takes a swig of his.

"It's fine," he assures me. He hunkers down to sit, his back against the rock. I walk over and sit beside him. We drink some more water in companionable silence, me lost in my memories, and Mulder just lost in thought.

"Skinner, did you know that one of the first significant UFO sightings took place in New Mexico?" Mulder asks after a few minutes.

"No, I didn't know that," I reply, finishing off the last of my water. I set the bottle beside me.

Mulder nods setting his bottle down as well.

"Socorro, New Mexico. April 24, 1964. Officer Ronnie Zamora heard a roar and spotted a flame in the sky. After speeding to the site, he saw an elliptical object with supporting legs in a gully. Standing near the craft were two humanoid figures. The beings noticed Zamora, quickly entered the craft, and took off, rising straight up in a blast of flame. After a roar the craft became silent and flew off," Mulder replies, reciting as if from a newspaper article, his old eidetic memory serving him in this instance.

I shake my head, "Too bad Officer Zamora didn't shoot the motherfuckers. It might have changed their minds about making another return trip," I reply with venom.

"They'd been coming here for a while. I don't think it would have mattered...Skinner," Mulder replies kindly, touching my shoulder.

I turn and stare into his eyes. I see compassion for me there. Compassion and understanding.

"Walter," I murmur. "You used to call me Walter," I add reaching out to touch his face. He doesn't look away so I move in and press a gentle kiss to his lips. His lips are warm and a trifle dry, but God, they taste so sweet. I don't feel him stiffen up in protest, so I start to deepen the kiss. For a split-second he responds, his lips almost yielding to mine but then he gently pushes me away. I look in his eyes and see confusion mixed with dawning realization. Shit. I'm suddenly starting to flush with embarrassment. Damn it. I didn't mean to just move on him so fast...how...how could I..."

"I take it there's something else I need to remember," Mulder whispers as I look away, my ears growing red.

"I'm sorry...I guess...I guess it was my turn to be out of line," I mumble.

"Skinner...back in the restaurant I thought...well I thought you were coming on to me but...shit...I wasn't sure. I'm six years out of practice...with uh...either gender."

"Mulder..."

"You're going to tell me we were...together right. Like together, together," he chuckles nervously.

"We were lovers for 3 years," I state flatly.

I might as well get it all out. The fucking damage has been done here I think dismally. I can tell he's not ready for this little factoid. Here I was regaling him with the horrors of my early internment and now I'm going to regale him with romantic tales of our relationship. Christ I'm a total moron.

"Lovers..." Mulder mutters, studying my face. His face is unreadable.

I rise up from my sitting position at his side and walk over to stand by the Harley. I stand with my back to him so that I can get through the rest of what I have to say without betraying the raw need for him that's plainly on my face.

"Mulder I didn't bring you out here to tell you this right now. I...I was going to work up to telling you about us slowly, as you remembered more about your life in the before times. What just happened was...well it just happened. I couldn't help myself."

"I understand," he replies sympathetically.

I sigh. I don't want his sympathy. I want...Christ...I just want him. I press on with my explanation in the hopes that it will help smooth the incident over.

"I...I wanted you to see the landing field so that I could tell you that you were involved in fighting them, Mulder. Your pursuit of the truth regarding the grays was really what the X-Files was all about for the most part. We...you and Scully...you fought the good fight against men like Spender and Spender's father. It wasn't your fault that they helped the grays come and conquer us. You did your best, Mulder - right up to the end when they stuck you in that fucking tank and wiped me and Scully and...and all of it out of your mind. I just wanted you to know that Mulder .You were one of the good guys, and I...I was proud to know you. I'm still proud to know you," I reply, running out of steam at last.

I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"I told you once I was honored to call you friend. I meant it," he whispers.

I turn under his hand and face him again, studying his face. Friend. He wants to be friends...not lovers?

"Friends...but...nothing more?" I ask. He takes his hand away and looks down at the ground scuffing his foot in the dirt.

"I'll be honest with you, Skinner, and please don't take offense. Back there in the restaurant I thought...ok...I thought, here's where Mulder pays the man what he owes him, you know. Then when we drove out here I figured I'd be getting down on my knees again. Uh...sucking cock."

"Fuck that," I growl.

He shrugs.

My shoulders sag. Ok. He has a point I guess.

"Yeah, all right, I can understand why you might think that was the case. But you must realize that wasn't true now."

"I...I do realize it. I probably knew it really wasn't true at the time too," he replies quietly. "I know you're not the kind of man who would ever do anything like that to anyone. You're...you're not like Spender. I can't project what that maniac did to me onto you. It would be unfair," he replies, looking up at me again.

I can tell there's more he wants to say however. He's trying to put it into words.

"But..." I prompt him. His face is heavy with that particular word.

"But...I also can't be sure I can...I can do what you want me to do. I...I didn't even know I could...that I might like men," he replies looking away.

"If you were aroused before...it...it might have been your body remembering what your mind isn't recalling right now," I suggest carefully.

"I...yeah...I was turned on. I can't lie to myself there," he replies, letting out a shaky breath.

I can tell this is too much for him. He looks totally confused, guilty and upset that he's possibly hurting my feelings all at once. I can't let him twist in the wind that way. I need to head this off at the pass right now.

"Mulder, this isn't about 'doing' anything...that kiss notwithstanding," I assure him. He looks back up at me. "I...I took this too fast. I want to give you time to decide whether you even care about me that way anymore. I don't want to pressure you into doing anything you don't want to do. I won't touch you again unless you ask me. And if you never ask me then...well...I'll have to deal with it. Just...just give it some thought, ok? I...I really do love you. We...we had a good life together," I reply capturing his eyes.

He nods, "I...I can think about it for sure. I appreciate you giving me my space. And...I'm sorry I'm not sure about things. I really do wish I could remember," he sighs.

"I know, Mulder...I know," I reply.

We both stand silently for a minute. Finally, I clear my throat.

"OK. Uh...let's head back to Godwillin. We...we have a party to attend tonight."

"Sounds good," Mulder nods, smiling a little as I move to repack the Harley's saddlebag and get underway.

xXx

"Oh man..." Mulder breathes out fingering the white dress shirt between his fingers. He smiles shyly at me.

"I just thought...well... it's a party so we should both look good," I reply, quietly. "I got this too. They didn't have any loud silk ties I'm afraid," I add chuckling a little nervously. I hand Mulder the black leather bolo string tie. It has a wild mustang choke on it.

"You...shouldn't have..." he whispers, taking the tie from my hand.

"If you don't want to wear it..." I reply diffidently.

"Oh, no, I'm going to wear it," he replies, smirking. "This is great," he adds taking the tie and shirt over to the vanity mirror. "I just meant you didn't have to do this and it was a...a nice gesture."

I watch him stand in his new jeans and work boots in front of the mirror as he shrugs the shirt on and starts to button it up. I move over next to him, a little carefully so as not to crowd him at the mirror. I work on buttoning my own dress shirt.

I'm filled again with a joy I haven't felt in years as I watch Mulder admiring his reflection. I remember all the times we would get ready in the morning in my apartment in Villa Towers. His hogging the sink, the mirror, leaving everything a mess. I used to grumble at him constantly for leaving hair and shaving cream in my sink. God those were good times. It's great to have him leaving hair in my sink again.

Mulder finishes with the shirt and flips the collar up. The bolo tie goes over his head and gets adjusted on his neck by his dexterous fingers. When he has it to his liking he steps back and admires the total effect. It's impressive. The bruise on his face is healing nicely - it's mostly a mixture of yellows, greens and a few spots of red now. He looks much better all the way around. We took a quick shower when we returned to clean off the road dirt and when he walked to the shower there was no stiffness in his step at all.

I adjust the longhorn steer choke on my own bolo tie as Mulder turns away from the mirror to face me.

"So...what do you think?" he asks, spreading his hands wide.

"I think I look like a stud," I dead pan, taking one last glance at myself as I pull the bolo tight around my neck.

Mulder barks a quick laugh.

"You're so full of shit," he chuckles.

"Oh you meant how do you look?" I reply, smiling at him.

"Yeah. Is this me or what?" he smirks.

"Almost..." I reply a little more quietly. I reach over and gently adjust the choke on his tie so that it hangs straight. I want to let my hands linger on his chest for just a second but I remember what I said about not touching him. I pull back. "Now, it's you," I smile.

Mulder smiles back with real warmth and then he turns and looks at himself in the mirror again.

"I guess the multi-colored bruise makes up for the loud silk tie," he quips to cover the emotion of the moment.

"You look fine. The bruise is healing. They always look like a Jackson Pollack painting when they're healing."

He laughs.

"Thanks. I'll have to remember that one. It's a good line. So, ready to go?"

"Oh, wait, I almost forgot the piece de resistance," I snap my fingers. The matching belts are still in my drawer. I stride over and pull the belts out bringing Mulder's over to him. He takes the belt, examining the wild mustang buckle that adorns it.

"I know there's a John Wayne joke in here somewhere," he grins wide. He looks down then and begins to work the end of the belt through the first loop in his jeans.

I smile at his evident appreciation couched in the joke. I can't trust myself to answer him. My voice will be too raw with the emotion I feel right now. I slip my belt on and fasten the longhorn steer buckle. I saunter over to the mirrored doors of the closet just to check out the effect.

"You have that down good, pardner," Mulder drawls watching my progress across the room.

"What?" I ask confused.

"That John Wayne walk," he smirks.

I just raise my eyebrow and turn again to check out my reflection. I sense rather than see Mulder come up beside me to check himself out as well.

"Now that's stylin'," he whispers, taking in both reflections in the mirror.

"Damn straight," I hiss, adjusting my belt. "I think we're ready to go."

Mulder nods and turns to head towards the door. I take my shoulder rig off the table by the window.

"You're bringing your gun?" Mulder asks from in front of the door.

I consider the question. I very seldom go unarmed anymore. I've learned the hard way that it's not advisable.

"Yeah, I guess I will. Better to be safe than sorry. You want the Bowie knife? You can strap it on your belt."

"Man you must think this'll be some wild party," he chuckles.

I scowl at him.

"OK. I'm just kidding. Yeah, I'll get the knife out of the closest," he grins.

"You'll want your own gun, Mulder. Maybe we can look into getting you a piece tomorrow."

He takes the knife out of the closet and nods back inside.

"What about the Remington? I think I could get used to carrying the rifle."

"That's an idea. You want to take it tonight?"

Mulder thinks a second.

"No. I think I'll let you take care of the heavy weapon department this evening Mr. Wayne. I'll keep a low profile," he smiles, unbuckling his belt in order to strap the knife sheath on.

Once we're both armed I grab my leather jacket from the chair and pull it on. I have the room key and my wallet in one of the pockets. I figure I'll show Krycek's photo around at the party a little if opportunity presents itself. You never know. Someone might recognize the bastard.

"You'd better lean in close on the bike tonight, Mulder, it's going to be a little chilly without a jacket," I tell Mulder as we're exiting the room.

"Yeah, I will," he replies looking across the parking lot. "Is that Kurtz?" he adds, craning to look.

I finish locking the door and swing around to see. It is Kurtz. He's standing outside the office with the short dark-haired woman who cleaned our room earlier. The maid. They're in a lip lock, sucking face like there's no tomorrow. I bark a loud laugh.

"Looks like he's getting maid service," Mulder laughs along with me.

"No shit," I reply, watching as they break apart. The woman strokes his shoulder once gently and then goes into the office leaving him standing looking rather dumbstruck.

When he looks up he spots us and heads on over. We meet him about halfway between the office and our room.

"So, you all heading over to the Dark Horse?" he asks when he reaches us. He's all kitted out himself. Clean jeans, a clean blue work shirt and a sports jacket. He's shaved too, and on his feet are a pair of spit polished snakeskin cowboy boots.

"Yeah. You partying early?" I tease, gesturing with my head back towards the office.

He blushes like hell and I laugh, slapping him on the back.

"Oh man..." he coughs. "Uh...yeah. That's Mary Whitefeather. She went in to say good bye to her brother while I get the car. Her brother's taking care of the office tonight and she's coming along with me. I guess you met her when she came to clean your room."

"We did," Mulder grins at him. "She's Native American?"

"Right. Navajo. We've been seeing each other for a while now...I mean socially."

"I guess so," I laugh.

"Hey...cut me some slack, you two. She's a good woman. I...I asked her to marry me tonight - so let's not hear any more snide comments," he grins wide at us.

"Son of a bitch," I laugh harder, slapping him on the back again. "You dog."

Mulder laughs and takes his hand, pumping it up and down, "Well now we'll have two reasons to party hearty tonight."

"Ah, shit," Kurtz blusters under the attention.

I watch his eyes dance. He really is happy and I'm happy for him. In the back of my mind that CC of blood comes up again but I shake off the thought quickly. Under the circumstances he may never use it now. Well, he can always sell it and give his new wife a secure future with the profits.

We all laugh for a few more minutes and then Kurtz regains his breath and speaks.

"You all want to take my car over to the tavern? It's just an old Volvo but it runs."

Mulder glances at the Harley and then back at me. He grins a little. No, I think we're taking the bike. My man is starting to feel the need for speed.

"No, I think we'll take the bike," I smile back at Mulder. "You want to try driving it tonight?" I toss at him.

"Yeah?"

"Sure," I smile.

"Great, I'll go...give her the once over...you know...familiarize myself with the controls again," he enthuses.

I nod.

"Later, Kurtz. And congratulations," he shoots over his shoulder as he turns and jogs back over to the Harley. I watch him go, a very soft feeling in my chest.

"You told him didn't you?" Kurtz asks quietly as I watch Mulder checking out the bike. I turn and catch Kurtz's eyes.

"What?"

"You told him about the two of you, didn't you?" Kurtz clarifies.

I raise an eyebrow and let my lip curl up just a little in a small grin of acknowledgment.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Because you're not wound up like a watch spring anymore. You're a hell of a lot more relaxed, big man. I just figured you know...you got some."

I look away from him and over at Mulder again for a second, embarrassed at Kurtz's directness. Well after all I was giving him the business about tonsil diving with his woman. I guess he's got a right to assume.

"Oh...sorry...maybe I shouldn't have..." he starts to apologize noticing my discomfort.

"No, it's ok. Uh...we're still working on things in that area. But...yeah I told him. He took it well. Now...I think he just needs his space to think about it," I reply, looking back at him again.

"Ah...well...I'm sure he'll come around. I can tell by the way he looks at you he likes you a lot. I'm sure after a while he'll remember and then things will take their uh...natural course," Kurtz replies, slapping me on the shoulder.

"Thanks. Yeah, I'm optimistic."

"Good. Power of positive thinking. He looks better too, you know. The bruise looks like it's a lot less sore."

"He's doing good," I reply, nodding. "I'd better go make sure he's doing ok with the bike. If he's going to drive us tonight he's going to need a few tips," I chuckle.

"I hear you. All right then. Mary and I will see you over at the Dark Horse."

"Later," I reply as he leaves my side.

I turn to walk towards Mulder, taking the key to the Harley out of my jacket pocket.

"Hey, you're going to need the key to start her up," I call over to Mulder where he's seated on the Harley's saddle looking at the ignition in bemused confusion.

xXx

Mulder manages to get us to the Dark Horse Tavern without ditching the bike. I have to admit he did rather well with driving her. Next time we'll take her out on the highway and really let her rip. I was going to grip the saddle to hold on during the ride but he told me it was all right to hold his waist. He said it would cut down the chill and he was right from a practical sense of course.

Holding him close felt marvelous and the warmth I felt wasn't only the warmth of our bodies. It wasn't strictly a sexual heat either. No, it was the warmth of being alive and just together with the man I love even if he's not sure he remembers what we had together. He's acknowledged our friendship and that counts for a lot. Like I told Kurtz, I'm optimistic the rest will come in time - even his understanding about the nanocytes. Tonight....tonight everything's just about perfect. I'm on top of the world.

We pull up in front of the Dark Horse and Mulder starts to brake the bike as he looks for a parking spot. There are quite a few vehicles outside the brightly lit tavern. Cycles, trucks. We both spot Kurtz's Volvo directly in front of the Tavern.

"It looks like he left us some room," I point indicating where the car is sitting to one side of the parking space.

"Sure does. Should I back her in?" Mulder shouts over the still rumbling engine.

"Yeah, go for it," I call into his helmeted head.

He makes a slow half circle and backs the bike up gradually until we're even with the small curb that borders the stone walkway. He applies the brake, cuts the engine and the Harley falls silent. He puts down the kickstand.

"Not bad, Easy Rider," I rumble into his ear.

"It's all in the hands," he laughs, making a cranking motion with both wrists.

I chuckle and let go of his waist, climbing off the bike. We can hear the music now - Cajun Zydeco. It's loud even through the closed doors of the Dark Horse. The place is really jumping.

"I guess we're not too early are we?" Mulder asks, looking up and down the street at the assembled guests' transportation.

"No danger there. It sounds like the place is really hopping," I answer heading towards the door.

Mulder hesitates a moment, hanging back on the sidewalk. I turn back around and walk to where he stands.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. Not at all. Uh...I was just thinking, you know...this is nice, being out," he answers shyly.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," I reply and before I think about it I reach out and take his hand in mine. He glances down and I drop it when I realize I just broke my own rule. "Shit. Sorry. I..."

"No, it's ok. Christ. I probably should learn to stop jumping out of my skin every time you touch me casually. I mean...hell...at least in your memory we had a history. This has to be difficult for you, Skinner. It's awkward for us both and I can't tell you how..."

"Don't worry about it," I hasten to assure him. "I'm doing fine and I don't get a sense of you jumping out of your skin. You're naturally reticent and nervous. It's logical. I appreciate you're being so understanding. Just give it some time. I don't have any expectations. Let's...let's just forget about the issue tonight and concentrate on having a good time."

He straightens his shoulders and smiles.

"Sounds like a plan. Let's do it," he replies.

"Now you're talking," I slap him on the back and we both head for the door.

"Skinner, Mulder, over here!" Kurtz calls from a table not to far from the door. Mary Whitefeather is seated next to him and both of them are waving at us.

There's about 200 people in the Dark Horse and the AC is cranked up tonight to keep up with so many warm bodies. Hell I knew Audrey was a great person. Obviously I'm not alone in that opinion. The music is loud and festive and people are dancing up near the stage. I can see Audrey herself with her husband right up near Dexter's band, holding each other as they sway to the Cajun sound. The bar is doing gangbuster business. Yeah, this looks like a hell of a party. Perfect.

Mulder and I push through the crowd and over to Kurtz's table.

"Thanks for saving space for us outside too," I laugh.

"Hey when I got here and saw all those cars I figured you all could piggyback on my spot with that hog. How was the drive?" he laughs looking at Mulder.

"Professional," Mulder shoots back, grinning.

"Yeah I didn't see any road rash so I figured you done good, son," Kurtz replies.

I extend my hand towards Mary Whitefeather, "I understand congratulations are in order, Ms. Whitefeather."

"Oh hell, where are my manners? Mary Whitefeather this is Walter Skinner and Fox Mulder. Gentleman, the woman who has graciously agreed to become my wife," Kurtz smiles wide, making the formal introductions.

"Despite the lapse in manners," Mary jokes good-naturedly, smiling with love at her fiancee as well. "It's nice to meet both of you."

"Enchanted," Mulder smiles taking her hand and kissing it.

"Oh brother," I mumble, as Mary laughs musically and Kurtz practically spits the beer he's drinking out on the table.

"Mr. Mulder, you certainly have charm, I'll give you that. That little demonstration deserves a dance, in my humble opinion. Would you do me the pleasure?"

"I'd be honored - if you don't mind the fact I haven't been dancing for over 6 years and may trod on your feet quite abominably."

"Oh, I'm used to that," she teases, giving Kurtz a pointed look. Kurtz gives her a 'Who me' expression and laughs as she turns back towards Mulder. "I'll make allowances."

"In that case," Mulder replies, "the dance floor awaits."

Mary rises from her seat and walks over to join Mulder. She is short, coming up to his shoulder. Mulder takes her hand in his and looks down at her with an odd pensive expression on his face. Mary furrows her brow and glances at me and then Kurtz for reassurance. Kurtz shrugs. The band is just launching into 'Back Door' by Queen Ida & Her Zydeco Band.

"Mulder, the band's changing songs...this is a good one," I prompt.

"Huh? Oh sorry, I was just thinking...thinking of someone else I danced with once."

Mary smiles. "Blonde, brunette or redhead?"

"Redhead actually. But...she was...rather like you. Petite, I mean," he answers quietly.

Mary glances at me again and I smile gently at her. I don't know what else to say.

"Well if she was about my size, you can't be as bad a dancer as you let on. Come on, Mulder, let's give it a shot."

Mulder refocuses and smiles wide, "Ok, Mary. You lead."

Mary laughs loudly as they head off into the crowd.

"I'm not letting you off that easily," I hear her tell him as they disappear.

"Shit I forgot to ask him what he wants to eat and drink," I grumble as I take my leather coat off and hang it over the back of one of the chairs. I sit down and face Kurtz across the table.

"The waiter will come around. We ordered the chicken dinner. Beer's good tonight. They actually had a truck come through carrying beer, soft drinks and such. Audrey bought some of everything I gather. It'll probably all get drunk up tonight so we better enjoy it while we can."

"Well he's off alcohol until the doctor sees him tomorrow because of the kidneys..." I begin to explain.

"We've got iced tea, lemonade and assorted soda," a voice interrupts me from behind.

"David!" I smile, craning around as David Peabody walks around to the side of the table. He's wearing a bright red checked apron and I burst out laughing.

"Now, now, no cracks about the apron. Audrey put me to work until midnight because we were short on waiters until then. This comes with the job."

"I won't say a word," I chortle reining it in as best I can.

"Where's Mulder?" he asks glancing around.

"Dancing with my wife to be, the gigolo," Kurtz laughs, taking another swig of his beer.

"Damn! You popped the question!? Holy shit, Sam. Congratulations!" David replies, enthusiastically. He steps to Kurtz's side and pounds him on the back almost causing him to choke again on his beer. "Wait till I tell Audrey."

Kurtz nods, trying to get his breath, "Well don't spread it around too much. This is Audrey's birthday party. I don't want to suddenly become the center of attention."

"Got it. Ok. I'll keep it quiet. But good job, my man. Great news."

"Thanks David," Kurtz ducks his head, reddening a little.

"So, what are you all having?" David replies getting down to business at last.

"Another couple of beers for Mary and I. Skinner?"

"Chicken dinners for Mulder and I, I guess."

"Ok. And to drink?"

"Beer for me and...do you have Diet Coke?"

"Alas no - only Coke Classic. I tried some - it's still drinkable."

"Coke Classic for Mulder, then."

"Ok. Coming right up. And Walter...when I'm off at midnight I'm holding my dance card open for you...so don't leave ok?" he smirks at me. I raise an eyebrow but before I can answer he's gone. Oh man...that...that could prove to be very awkward.

"Oh oh," Kurtz interjects, sitting back in his seat, a knowing grin on his face. "Looks like David's taken a liking to you."

"So everyone in town knows that kid is gay?" I ask him pointedly.

"He's not ashamed of it. Hell...he and Dexter were lovers for a long time. To tell you the truth I think they'll get back together. They just had a stupid argument over Dexter's comment that he might want to go back to New Orleans. They were pretty tight and they've stayed on friendly terms. So, I wouldn't worry about his hitting on you...I don't think he's that serious."

I look down at the table. "He's a nice kid," I answer noncommittally.

"He's a great kid. So dance with him, Walter. It ain't gonna kill you."

I look up and smile a little, "Yeah I guess you're right. I'm not embarrassed about what I am either Sam. It's just that...well I'm not sure how Mulder will take it."

"David's polite. I'll lay odds he'll ask Mulder's permission first. And who knows, that might give Mulder some ideas in the right direction anyway," Kurtz winks at me.

I chuckle.

"Maybe so. Well anyway, I'll take it under consideration," I reply looking past him over his shoulder. "At the rate Mulder's swinging your woman around out there I'd imagine we'll be staying on for more dancing until at least midnight."

"Say what!?" Kurtz barks, craning around to spot Mary and Mulder out on the dance floor.

"Gottcha, buckaroo. Mary's been leading for the last five minutes. Mulder doesn't have a clue how to dance to Zydeco," I laugh.

xXx

Midnight comes quicker than I would have thought it would. But time does pass quickly when you're enjoying yourself with friends. And I consider these people my friends now for sure. I think Mulder does too. We've spent a fantastic couple of hours, drinking, talking and eating with Kurtz and Mary Whitefeather. We're all getting to know each other and it's a great pleasure.

Mary in particular has been marvelous, taking the time to dance with Mulder and then me as well to make us feel welcome, liked, and comfortable. Mulder is really starting to come out of himself. I can see lots of flashes of the old Mulder shining through as he shakes off the general malaise that's been plaguing him since I found him again. It's wonderful to see him laughing and joking. I find myself just watching him at the exclusion of all others so as not to miss his new outlook on life.

Audrey and her husband Bill stop by the table twice and sit down to spend some time with us. I even squire Audrey out onto the dance floor for a turn during 'You Ain't Nothin' But Fine' by Rockin' Sidney.

Now, as midnight nears, the band is playing some smoky blues numbers. Slow dancing music. Couples are moving out onto the dance floor and everyone's getting close. I watch the couples swaying together on the dance floor and glance at Mulder. No, I don't suppose he'd like to dance. There are several same sex couples out there. Men and women and no one seems to be taking any notice. I could ask him but, maybe it wouldn't be appropriate since we're trying to keep things low key here. I sigh a little and take a sip of the iced tea I've switched to drinking.

"Well Mary, I guess this is our cue," Kurtz smiles blearily at his fiancee as the band begins the next song. I don't recognize this number but it's certainly sultry. Kurtz is a little drunk now. He clearly wants to press the flesh with his lady love. I smile inwardly. He's really got it bad. 'He's' got it bad? I'm the one mooning over Mulder here.

Mary glances at me very pointedly and then at Mulder. Mulder's watching the dance floor with interest. She turns her attention back to Kurtz.

"Maybe we should sit this one out, Sam," she smiles at him.

Kurtz observes her pointed looks.

"Hey, Skinner?" he slurs at me.

"What, Kurtz?" I grin at him.

"Give me a break, big guy. You'd better ask your man to dance. If you don't I'll never get Mary out on the dance floor."

I almost choke on my iced tea. Mulder has to slap me on the back. Mary is mortified and punches Kurtz on the arm hard, but the ex-resistance fighter merely laughs like hell.

"Christ, Kurtz," I bluster caught completely off guard.

"Hey, sorry...but I'm desperate here. Come on, Mulder...help me out. You've been dancin' with her more than I have tonight," Kurtz chuckles getting his laughter under control.

Mulder laughs and slaps me on the back again.

"Well who am I to stand in the way of true love," he replies. "Come on, Skinner, we'd better haul our butts out there or Kurtz will never let us live it down."

I stare at him totally speechless for a moment. Then I find my voice again.

"You...you'd dance with me?"

"Sure. Come on," he answers quietly, standing up and stretching out his hand.

I stand up, as if in a dream, and take his hand.

"I promise not to step on your toes...much," he grins at me.

"Don't worry, you won't. I'll lead," I whisper, turning slightly and pulling him gently behind me towards the dance floor.

I hear Mary hissing at Kurtz as we walk away.

"You're lucky that turned out the way it did or you'd be sleeping in the office tonight."

Kurtz laughs and then she does too and I hear them getting up from the table to follow us onto the dance floor.

I lead Mulder into the middle of the crowd of bodies that is just beginning to sway to the music. We lose track of Kurtz and Mary fairly quickly. We stand and face each other for a moment. I'm holding his hands but suddenly I'm nervous and reluctant to pull him close into my arms.

"You're making me break my promise," I tell him.

"Promise?"

"About touching you."

"Ah...well I gave you tacit approval," he grins a little.

"You sure you're all right with this?" I ask him, studying his face.

"Yeah...I...it's fine," he nods, shifting closer.

I pull him to me then, and place one hand on his waist. We start to move, shuffling at first so he can get the idea of letting me lead and then we shift into a classic box step which he seems to be able to handle. We sway together, not speaking just enjoying the music and the feeling of moving together for a few seconds. I feel him press closer and take a chance at putting both my hands on his back. I keep them up high though, in neutral territory...and I keep them very still.

Mulder sighs and melds against me, placing his head next to mine so that our cheeks are touching. I can smell the clean soap smell of his hair.

"I...I'm surprised you'd dance with me," I manage to croak out quite honestly.

"So am I," he answers equally as honestly. "But it seemed like the thing to do since you clearly wanted to be out here."

"Oh, I did?" I rumble, raising an eyebrow at his brash statement.

"Yes. You'd been sighing over the couples on the dance floor since they started the first slow dance. I noticed it. I couldn't let you pine any longer," he replies, teasing in his voice.

"I see," I grin a little and rub my hands on his back slightly. I feel him respond by doing the same on mine, tentatively, as we move together.

"Besides that...I couldn't leave Kurtz hanging."

I feel him smirking against my cheek.

"Smart-ass," I growl.

He chuckles, "Yeah, but at least I'm not stepping on your toes."

"Thank you," I whisper, letting my words have more than one meaning.

"My pleasure," he answers letting his voice mean more than I could ever hope to hear.

I sigh and we shuffle around together again as the song comes to an end. When the last strains of the song play out he gently pulls away from me and clears his throat.

"Uh...thanks. This was good. Really," he mumbles

"Yeah. I appreciate you doing it," I reply, still holding onto his hand.

He nods again, suddenly shy and awkward.

"Let's go back to the table," I reply, releasing him completely.

"Ok," he replies, turning to walk back through the crowd.

At that point it becomes apparent that the band is going to take a break and everyone goes back to their tables or the bar to tank up for the rock and roll set that Dexter promises will be coming up next before he leaves the stage.

When we get back to the table Mulder and Mary Whitefeather leave to go to their respective restrooms. I'm left at the table with a rather inebriated Kurtz.

"I thought you'd shit when I suggested you dance with Mulder," he laughs as soon as Mulder and Mary are out of ear shot.

"I'm an armed man, you asshole. You took a big chance," I growl but with good humor. He chuckles.

"But ya liked it didn't ya?" he asks.

"Yeah. It was...good," I grin.

"Damn straight. Feels great, dancing with the one you love."

"I can't argue."

"Did he let you hold him close out there?" Kurtz asks, leaning close and whispering conspiratorially.

I laugh.

"You're a pervert, you know that Kurtz."

"Ah...I'm just in love myself, guy. I want to see everyone as happy as I am right now."

"You're drunk," I reply, yanking his chain a little.

"That too, but hell...this is a party, my man. You're feeling ok too right? Especially when your honey was holding you tight out there," he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shit...all right. Yeah, he let me hold him while we were dancing.

Why do I feel like I'm back in high school I think looking into Kurtz's laughing eyes. Well hell - there isn't often a lot of joy in this brave new world of ours. I guess he deserves to have some fun and bask in both his love for Mary and his hope that two new friends are going to experience the same glorious feeling. I hope he's right. I hope Mulder and I are working towards something here this evening. Mulder seems to at least be willing to make the effort. I can't criticize Kurtz for trying to move things along either I guess.

"Damn, this is fantastic," he laughs. "Stick around and I'll have you two rockin' and rollin' later tonight for sure," he enthuses.

I shake my head in amusement. Christ, just what I need - a male matchmaker. As I'm shaking my head, Mary Whitefeather comes back to the table.

"Is he giving you a hard time, Walter?" she asks in sympathy as she takes her seat next to Kurtz.

"I'm being good," Kurtz laughs hugging her.

"Oh, I'm sure. And to make sure you continue to be a good boy I caught the waiter and ordered you a Coke," she laughs, patting him on the back.

"Ah honey..."

"Now...you know what alcohol does to you, baby," she winks at me. "If you want to have fun later, you're going to have to lay off the beer," she teases.

"Oh shit woman..." he blusters, reddening. I laugh loud.

"Hey..." he chuckles giving me the finger.

"Payback's a bitch," I grin at him and then he laughs long and loud.

As Kurtz is laughing Mulder comes back to the table with a tall blonde woman I don't recognize and she kisses him on the cheek.

"Thanks sweetie. Maybe we can do it again later."

"We'll see, Lureen. It kind of depends on my friends here," Mulder replies, smiling.

"No problem, honey. It was nice talking to you anyway," Lureen replies. She gives us all a little wave and backs off through the crowd heading towards the bar.

Kurtz starts to laugh and Mary punches him in the arm.

"What?" he asks bewildered.

I fix Mulder with a scowl.

"I thought you went to the can," I rumble at Mulder.

He gives me a sheepish look.

"I did. But on my way back I ran into David Peabody and Lureen. Lureen's a friend of his and Dexter's I guess. Anyway, David suggested I talk to her so..."

"Uh huh," I reply.

"Well I couldn't be rude. She wanted to dance with me later."

"Do tell," I reply, raising an eyebrow.

He gives me a terribly contrite look and I can't let him think I'm jealous any longer. I burst out laughing.

"You should see your face," I laugh at him.

"Damn..." he blusters and then he laughs as well. "Hey, I thought I was being a prince there...and besides I have to practice so I won't squash Mary's feet again the next time we dance."

"Slack back son, you're still recuperating," Kurtz advises sagely. He may be a little drunk but the guy's not slow on the uptake.

"Yeah, Mulder. Why don't you sit down and rest a while. I'm gonna go to the can and then we can think about going back to the motel."

Mulder frowns a little but nods, "I guess you're right. I hate to go but I am starting to feel a little zonked."

"Well, maybe we can stay a little longer - if you sit down for a while," I admonish him.

"Yes, Nurse Skinner," he replies taking his seat at the table.

"Asshole," I mock growl as I head off towards the men's room. I hear Mulder's laughter behind me.

As I'm walking to the men's room it occurs to me that David expects me to dance with him soon as well. I guess we'll stick around for a while but if he doesn't show we're outta here. I really would like Mulder to get a good night's sleep. Dr. Singh will be by tomorrow to see him.

I reach the men's room and go in. All the urinals and the stalls are occupied. I move to the sink and wash my hands until one of the urinals is free. I finally get to take my piss, wash my hands again and then exit the bathroom into the short hallway that runs in back of the main room. Just as I'm about to leave the area I hear a thud from somewhere down the hallway. I walk forward a little ways because I hear a man's voice. It's David's voice. I walk a little farther. I can see if he's ready for that dance I guess. David's next words make me pause however and fade back into the shadows.

"Oh yeah, Dex..." he groans, "oh man....that's good."

"You know it, baby," Dexter's low, aroused voice replies.

There's another soft thud and then another. I'm standing at an angle across from the cracked door to a supply room. David and Dexter are inside. Dexter is bent over, braced on a shelf, his pants and underwear around his ankles. David is behind him, hands on Dexter's hips, his slick, hard cock sliding slowly in and out of the black musician's ass. Oh man. Yeah, I guess David's getting a dance all right. But it isn't with me. Christ. Couldn't they wait to get each other someplace private? Well...'been there done that' I have to admit. I can't criticize when I remember what Mulder and I thought was a deserted stretch of beach in Tahiti. The look on that Japanese tourist couple's faces isn't something I'll likely forget for a very long time.

I stand transfixed, watching as the man I did this to only two nights ago, works his lean hips back and forth, obviously relishing the experience. I'm a little surprised I don't feel jealous at seeing them together. I don't feel a shred of jealously however. I also don't feel particularly aroused due to the embarrassment factor of seeing this intimate act. No, I feel a mixture of relief and happiness for David and his lover. I'm glad the kid really does have someone to share himself with.

"Fuck. Oh Dex," David moans.

"Do it, man," Dexter grunts as David picks up the speed of his thrusts.

I back away slowly and turning, return up the hallway towards the entrance to the main bar room.

As I approach the table again, Mulder is setting down a half empty glass of lemonade. He yawns really wide and Mary laughs.

"You're losing it, Mulder. Maybe you should think about heading home."

"Yeah. I think the day's catching up with me, I really do feel beat," he smiles a little raggedly at her.

I reach the table and Mulder looks up at me.

"I guess we'd better go back, Skinner. I'm fading here."

"No problem." I nod at Mulder.

Good I won't have to worry about waiting for David to get back out here after riding Dexter's ass or waiting for the music to begin again while Dexter recovers his equilibrium. I chuckle to myself. Man, sometimes you're really a fool for love I think as Mulder rises out of his chair. He's steady on his feet so he can't be too far gone with fatigue. I'm glad he wasn't drinking and that I switched to iced tea after three beers. We should be able to navigate back easily this way.

"I guess Mary and I will stick around for a while, all right my sweet?" Kurtz asks his wife to be.

"Sounds good to me. Now that Mulder's not here to trod on my toes I need someone to take over the job," she teases him.

"Smile when you say that, pardner," he growls at her. She giggles and he pulls her close for a kiss.

Mulder and I both laugh. When they break apart I turn to Kurtz.

"Uh...will you give our regards to Audrey...and David?" I ask him pointedly. "We had a really good time, but I'd better get this guy home."

"Before I fall on my face. And tell them I said thanks too. This was great," Mulder adds.

"Will do. Drive carefully. And don't do anything I wouldn't do," Kurtz winks and laughs, taking Mary in his arms again.

I wince a little and glance at Mulder but he's smiling as he walks away. I follow, pulling up beside him.

"Sorry. Kurtz...Kurtz is drunk. I didn't imply to him that we were...well you know."

"It's ok, Skinner. Don't worry about it. I'm not. It was flattering," he nods briskly as we exit the tavern. I smile a little to myself. Well that's nice to hear at least. Maybe things really are looking up here at last.

"Flattering?" I ask just in case I misunderstood what he was getting at.

"Yes. I think it's flattering that people think you'd want me that way. I mean, hey, I've got an ego. Every guy wants to feel like he makes his...uh...lover hot," he grins at me as he walks on.

"Oh yeah?" I rumble as we reach the Harley.

"Yeah," he replies turning to face me as I reach his side.

We stare at each other for a few seconds. I look in his eyes, looking for permission.

"You're going to make me break my promise again," I whisper, moving a bit closer.

"I know..." he replies, smiling softly.

I close the distance between us and take him in my arms. I pull him close and kiss him tenderly on the lips. I'm careful not to put too much into it at first, so I don't scare him. When I feel him respond by opening his lips I push forward and devour his mouth, pushing my tongue inside to taste him. He brings his hands up onto my back and lets out a low groan as our mouths play over each other.

I release his mouth quickly however, not wanting, once again to bring it on too hard. He rocks back slightly, a lopsided grin on his face.

"Holy shit..." he breathes out.

"You ok?" I chuckle.

He chuckles as well.

"Yeah, I...that was intense."

"Are you sure it was all right though. I mean..."

"It was...I think it was ok. Yeah, I'm ok with it," he states as if he's still trying to sort it out.

I smile. Hey, it's a step.

"Well it was good for me," I joke, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get back. You want to drive again?"

"Uh...maybe you'd better. I'm...I'm about done in," he replies. "And Skinner...it was good. Really. I liked it," he adds with a sleepy grin.

I smile and nod, taking the helmet off the seat of the Harley and handing it to him.

It's shortly after 1 AM when we arrive back at the motel. It's quiet. Mary's brother comes to the door of the office to see who's pulling in with a noisy Harley. When he sees it's guests he waves and goes back inside.

I park the bike back in front of room 20 and Mulder and I both saunter up to the door. I'm feeling mighty fine after that kiss. I don't care if he's still analyzing it. We did it, that's the main thing. Did it and he admitted it was good. Hell yeah, I'm feeling fine.

I unlock the room and we go inside. It doesn't take us long to get undressed. Mulder strips down to his briefs and I'm down to my jock and T-shirt.

I unfurl my sleeping bag, laying it out on the air mattress that I left lying at the foot of the bed.

When I raise up I notice that Mulder is sitting on the edge of the bed, massaging his calf muscle.

"What's wrong?" I ask, worried.

"I think Fox Astaire overdid it a little tonight. I've got a damn cramp in my calf," he winces.

"Oh man, those are a bitch. Hang on, let me see how bad it is," I reply, straightening up and walking over to stand over him. I look down to assess the damage. I can see the tightness in his muscle even from this position.

"Yeah, that's gotta hurt," I observe as he rubs at it.

"I can't quite get the right angle on it to work it out," he observes.

"Want me to try?" I ask wincing a little as he grits his teeth in pain.

"Man, could you?" he nods towards his leg.

"Sure," I nod and lower myself down on my knees. I pull his foot onto the top of my thighs and cup my hands under his calf.

"Tell me if I'm pressing too hard," I tell him as I start to massage his leg.

As I pull the supple muscle fibers away from the tight ones Mulder closes his eyes.

"That's good," he murmurs.

I relax and continue to rub. As I massage I hear a car engine. There's a car driving into the motel parking lot. Headlights pass across the front window and shine through the closed curtains. Then a horn toots a couple of times.

Mulder's eyes open and he cranes around, startled a bit.

"That's gotta be Kurtz, the crazy asshole. He thinks just because he's getting..." I let my words stop dead. I was about to say Kurtz thinks just because he's going to get some tonight everyone should. Oh man.

"...getting some, we should all get some tonight," Mulder finishes for me as if reading my mind. I look up at him.

"Yeah...that...that's about it."

He nods and bites his lip. "Uh...I guess I'd be...you know...willing if..."

"Willing to make love with me?"

He takes a deep breath.

"Yes," he whispers.

I smile at him. A shot of raw lust goes right to my dick. God...can he possibly be willing? The look in his eyes tells me he's curious...interested even. Mulder was always willing to explore his sexuality. When it came right down to it...he was a sexual hedonist. I think that component is still strong in him and he's going with it even though the memory of our relationship isn't there. The dance at the tavern, the kiss...both were evidence to back up this idea I think. But he's damned nervous. He has his hands back on the bed, bracing himself and I can see his arms shaking slightly.

"Let me finish with your leg here. Just...sit back and relax. I'm not going to rush into anything until this calf muscle is loose. And Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"If there's anything, and I mean anything that makes you uncomfortable about...what we do here when we're together...don't hesitate to tell me to stop. This is supposed to be about pleasure, not pain and fear, understand?" I hasten to reassure him.

He nods.

"All right. Just relax and let me work out this cramp," I reply, renewing my massage on his calf muscle.

After a short time I can feel the muscle completely relax in my hands. Mulder has his eyes closed and I'm beginning to wonder if maybe I should just talk him into going to bed to sleep. But as soon as he feels my hands cease their movement he opens his eyes.

"Thanks, that's great. It doesn't hurt at all anymore," he says smiling down at me.

He looks so handsome in the light of the night stand lamp. So inviting. I can smell the warm musky scent of his crotch. Oh man...forget it. I'm sunk. I'm gonna go for it and hope for the best here.

I smile back up at him and bend to gently kiss his knee.

"Good," I rumble against his skin.

I watch him swallow and then lick his lower lip in that gesture that absolutely drives me up the wall with desire. I tamp it down slightly though and tell myself we'll make tonight just for him. I'll concentrate on giving him the most pleasurable experience possible and hope he comes back for more.

I kiss up his leg a little further, scooting myself closer with my knees. He spreads his legs open a little farther as I push on his thighs gently.

"Is this all right?" I whisper planting feather light kisses inside his knees.

"Uh...yeah...it tickles," he chuckles.

I replace my lips with my hands and massage the inside of his thighs.

"Oh, that's...that's better," he sighs, watching me as I skim my hands up towards the top of his legs.

I run my hands up under the leg openings of his briefs, and back down again. On the next sweep up I tease around his balls a little. I can see his cock just starting to swell through the cotton. Mulder was a lot faster to respond usually but this isn't the old Mulder. This man is a virgin for all intents and purposes and it will do me good to remember that fact. He may be excited but he's also as anxious as hell so I should probably be prepared to have just about anything happen here.

I continue to rub and massage his leg muscles, settling him. When he seems more relaxed, braced back on his hands more comfortably, I renew my mouth work, kissing, licking, and sucking on his skin. I lap up his leg with my tongue and end by kissing and then sucking his balls through the cloth of his briefs. He bucks his hips slightly and I see one of his hands clutch the bedspread.

"You...you can take 'em off if you'd like," he suggests in a hoarse voice.

"I'd like that very much," I smile up at him. He helps me to remove his briefs by wriggling his hips. I have to rise up on my knees a little to pull them completely off. When I do, he gets a bird's eye view of my growing erection where it's pushing against my jock.

"Fuck," he blurts out with a nervous laugh following it, "that's one angry pecker you've got there, Mr. AD."

I laugh in return and sink back down between his legs.

"You got me that way, Mulder. I want you, babe. More importantly...I love you. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I want...I want to show you how much I love you," I reply quietly, stroking his quivering thighs gently with my hands.

"Oh man..." he whispers.

"I...I want this to be just for you now, lover. Just...sit back and enjoy it," I murmur as I move forward and nuzzle into his pubic hair.

"God," he whispers in a soft voice.

"You're beautiful," I rumble, kissing the tip of his twitching cock. I take the base with my left hand and tongue the end, licking up a tiny bit of pre-cum that's starting to ooze out. I feel him start to tremble again. I smile and take the head of his cock in my mouth.

"Oh Jesus," he hisses as I start to slide my mouth up over his glans and then up his shaft very slowly. I feel him tense up almost immediately. Instead of bucking forwards, he shifts back on the bed struggling to move away from me. What hard-on he was starting to sport goes rapidly limp. He starts to tremble harder. I release him and move back.

"Mulder?" I ask, looking up into his panicky face.

"Oh God...I'm...I'm so sorry...I...this is...I can't. Not...not yet. I'm sorry," he mumbles trying to shift away.

"It's...it's all right," I hasten to comfort him, moving back and getting up off my knees. My raging hard-on is still threatening to explode out of my jock and his eyes are drawn instantly to it.

"I...this is too fast," he mumbles. "Christ, I...I'm so sorry," he mumbles again, getting up shakily and grabbing his briefs off the floor. "Shit, I've really fucked up royally here. Damn it," he frowns in self-disgust. "You must think I'm a...a fucking cock tease," he ends miserably, pulling on his briefs.

"Mulder, I'm the one who should apologize. Maybe I was moving too fast again. It's...it's ok," I bluster, trying to reach for him. He moves away and stands on the other side of the bed.

"I'm the one at fault here. I shouldn't have gotten you worked up like that..." he gestures towards my crotch. "I mean..."

"Don't...don't castigate yourself...this...it's just the circumstances," I continue to try to salvage the situation.

"I...oh shit. I'm clueless here Skinner. I mean...I don't know. One second I feel hot, the next second cold. Christ. I'm not even sure I like men. Hell. I don't even remember sex with anybody except maybe myself and...blowing Spender...and I can't exactly call that a stellar experience."

"None of that's wrong...or unexpected either. It's also nothing to be embarrassed about. I don't...I don't think less of you for being confused or...afraid after that kind of experience," I interject.

"Well I need to get past that crap, Skinner. Tonight...I tried to see...if...well I thought maybe this would work out and you'd...we'd both end up enjoying each other or something. Clearly...I'm just fucked up enough here not to have things work out. It makes me wonder if I even remember how to do sex," he shakes his head in chagrin.

"I understand....but...you...well take my word for it...you can do sex, Mulder," I reply and then I want to kick myself. Why the fuck did I say that? Because I'm standing here with a raging hard-on and I can't think straight that's why. Damn it to hell.

"Well the point is, I don't remember it. I don't remember having sex with men, much less you and...I know you're hot for me. For fuck's sake I heard you jerking off last night."

"You heard me?"

"Yeah. But I didn't want to let on."

"I'm sorry."

"Well don't be sorry. I know this hasn't been easy for you. I...oh man, this is embarrassing," he grinds out...pacing back and forth. "Look...I need to get out of here. I need...I need some fresh air...I need to think," he adds, striding over to grab for his socks.

"Mulder...you can't just..."

"I need to get out of here," he hisses, pulling on his socks. The jeans, still with his belt and the knife in its sheath attached go on next. He sits down to pull his boots on and lace them up. He's almost manic. I know when he gets this way I can't stop him. I just watch as he moves to exit the room without even putting his T-shirt on.

"Damn it, Mulder. You're going to freeze out there," I grumble, making one last effort to stop him.

"I'll be all right. I'm sorry. I'll knock when I come back," he tosses over his shoulder as he unlocks the door, pulls it open, exits and slams the door behind him.

I just stand there, my hands on my hips in amazement, my dick rapidly wilting behind the cotton of my jock strap.

xXx

August 7, 2005, 3:00 AM, Outside room 20. The Dust Devil Motel, Godwillin, New Mexico

Mulder's been gone a little over 45 minutes. I got dressed in my jeans and boots and came outside to make sure he was walking around the motel. I saw him once pacing up near the office. I just let him go when he moved off around back. I should have seen this coming I guess. Like I told myself earlier I needed to be prepared for anything during our encounter. He's hurt, and confused...adrift in a sea of half remembered life experiences coupled with a total blank on almost everything else he ever did as Fox Mulder. I can't imagine what it must be like for him. Well...maybe a little. There are gaps in my memory also and I've felt that pain more than once. But at least I remember my sexuality - and I remember making love with someone I wanted to give myself to body and soul.

I sit down on the edge of the porch and let the cooler night air clear my head. I lean back against one of the posts that supports the porch roof and look up into the night sky. It's a clear night, and you can see every star shining bright over this part of New Mexico. Funny how the stars take on a whole new significance in a new town, any new town and not just Godwillin.

As I muse about the fate of humanity at the hands of the grays I hear another door close across the parking lot. Mary Whitefeather comes out of Kurtz's room and lights up a cigarette. I can see her in the light that shines outside the office. She's dressed in an oversized, blue terry cloth robe. I would bet it's Kurtz's robe. She spots me and heads across the parking lot in my direction. When she reaches me she stops and stands at my feet.

"Cigarette?" she asks, taking the pack out of a pocket in the robe.

"No thanks, I don't smoke," I smile at her.

"Good. It's a filthy habit," she sighs putting the pack back in her pocket, "I gotta quit. Mind if I smoke though?"

"No. Sit down," I indicate the pole opposite the one I'm leaning against. She carefully sits down and arranges the robe around her.

"Couldn't sleep?" I ask in way of conversation.

"No. Sam passed out," she chuckles. "So, no nookie tonight. I just decided to smoke a butt."

I bark a laugh.

"I admire your bluntness," I chuckle.

"Well...life is too short to be embarrassed about what you enjoy - even a good fuck. I learned that the hard way," she shrugs giving me a sad smile. "Now I don't mince words," she adds, taking a drag on her cigarette.

"I understand," I nod.

She nods back.

"I guess you do. And listen...I was kidding about his drinking. He doesn't drink much and the poor guy has no tolerance. So...he gets...you know...kind of wild. But Sam's a good man, Skinner. I won't do better."

"I'm happy for you both, Mary. He's a great guy. I haven't known him long but I know he's genuine. You're...you're special too."

Mary smiles and nods.

"Thank you too, sir."

"Welcome," I nod briskly at her.

We sit in companionable silence for a few moments and then Mary clears her throat and speaks again.

"I take it you're not out here because you couldn't sleep," she ventures quietly.

I sigh, "You could say that, yeah."

"Want to talk about it?" she asks, compassion in her voice.

"Uh...probably not. I don't think there's much you can do."

"You have a fight?"

"No...nothing like that really. Things...things didn't go well. I think maybe I moved a little too fast. He's...he's out walking, trying to clear his head."

"Oh. Well...I'm sorry to hear it. Walter, I can tell you really love him. I know I probably don't have to tell you to be patient. He seems like a good person...and it also seems like he's...you know...trying to make a connection with you again. I bet if you just give him some time he'll want you again. Hell...what's not to want. You're one damn fine looking man," she smiles, her teeth white in the darkness.

I laugh and run my hand over my mouth.

"My ego thanks you, Mary. I guess I needed to hear that right about now."

"Take my word for it, Walter. You're a stud. Mulder's going to want what you have to offer eventually. I would," she grins, tossing the cigarette down. She stands, and crushes it beneath her foot.

I smile back. As she's making sure the butt is out I notice Kurtz come out of room 1 dressed in his T-shirt, a pair of boxer briefs and sneakers.

"I think Sam's looking for you," I nod in his direction.

"Oh yeah?" she grins a little, turning around.

Kurtz is waving in agitation at us and then he makes a beeline for the office at almost a dead run.

"Something...something must be wrong," Mary observes, worry in her voice.

"We'd better check it out," I advise, rising to join her as she jogs back across the parking lot.

We reach the office and hurry inside. Kurtz is in the back room. I can hear the crackle of the Two Way radio back there.

"Come in Dan....repeat that...I can't pick you up. Over," Kurtz is saying. "Fuck this thing," he adds, cursing roundly as another blare of static pierces the air.

Mary and I round the reservation desk and push past the curtain that separates the office from the reservation area.

"What's wrong?" I ask immediately.

"Sam?" Mary asks, her brow deeply furrowed.

"It's Dan Garrity. The buzzer went off next door and woke me up so I knew someone was trying to contact us on the CB. I came over here but the damn message was garbled. I'm trying to get him back," he grates out. "He said it was urgent before I lost the signal. Damn thing. I need to get David out here to work on the antenna," he grumbles turning the knob on the front of the machine.

Another loud flare of static bites through the air and then the sheriff's voice comes through loud and clear.

"Dust Devil, are you there Sam? Over."

"Yeah, I can hear you now, Dan. What's wrong? Over."

"Dan...Spender's escaped. Evidently when Randy did bed check tonight he thought Spender was still sedated. The sedation must have worn off. He knocked Randy unconscious somehow and he's out. He's been gone at least an hour. Over."

"Oh God!" Mary exclaims.

"Randy and Phil are out looking for him now. I had to warn you though in case..." Garrity continues.

I don't even wait for the rest.

"Mulder," I hiss, turning to run out of the office.

I hear Mary cry out.

"Sam, Mulder's out walking around..." as I crash through the outer office door.

"MULDER!" I bellow at the top of my lungs. There's no answer. I reach for my gun. "Fuck," I curse. It's hanging back in the room.

Kurtz comes barreling out of the office, a sawed off shotgun in his hand, Mary on his heels.

"Mary, go back inside and lock the doors. Garrity's sending the deputies."

Mary runs back inside without hesitation. Kurtz looks at me intently.

"You think he's coming for him?"

"I'd bet on it," I hiss, turning to run behind the side of the motel. Kurtz pounds behind me.

"MULDER!" I yell again.

There's still no answer.

"Try the shower area," Kurtz pants and we both run on towards the communal showers.

We don't see anyone around the shower stalls at first. It's light enough back here that we should have spotted anyone.

"Hold up," I tell Kurtz and we stop to listen. It's then we hear the sound of a struggle.

"Over there," Kurtz barks.

From between the buildings, in the short alley where David and I spoke yesterday, a cloud of dust is blowing up fast and furious.

"MULDER!" I yell.

"HERE!" He calls back, his voice hoarse with the effort of trying to make himself heard.

We run to the opening in the alley and squint into the darkness. Mulder is there, and so is Jeffrey Spender. They're locked together in a terrifying imitation of Mulder and my dance at the Dark Horse tavern. Neither is speaking. The only sounds are grunts now as they grapple. The dust is thick from their struggle. Mulder is trying to push Spender back and away to end the obscene dance. Dance of death flies instantly through my mind as I see what Spender has in his hand. He's got my Bowie knife. He's got...my knife! Everything seems to move in slow motion as I lunge forward.

"NOOOOOO!" I scream as Spender brings the knife up sharply and stabs into Mulder's stomach with a quick, hard upward thrust.

"FUCK!" Kurtz cries out, shoving past me and bringing his shotgun up in a flurry of movement.

"DROP THE KNIFE, JEFF!" I cry out once more.

"YOU BITCH!" Spender yells as Mulder sags in his grasp. He lunges again and I can practically feel the pain in my own guts as the knife sinks into Mulder once more.

"Oh God," Mulder whispers as he sinks to his knees.

The blast of the shotgun is loud in the alley. The close shot hits Spender high, taking most of his head and part of his neck off in a bloody spray of blood, bone and gray matter. His lifeless body flies backward, hitting the wall and it sags down in a crumpled heap.

I rush to Mulder's side. He's on his knees, clutching his stomach. Blood is pouring down over his thighs.

"Shit. I'm really fucked," he mumbles and then he falls sideways.

"Mulder. Oh Jesus," I choke, catching him and helping him to lie flat on the ground. He doesn't have on a shirt so the wounds are plainly visible. I've seen enough wounds in my time to know these are fatal. My hands are shaking as Kurtz comes over and kneels beside me.

"Oh shit," he hisses. "I'll go call the doctor."

"There isn't time. Give me your T-shirt," I order. He pulls it off and I fold it up and press it to the wounds. It's all I can do. That and keep him comfortable. I start to tear up, but bite the inside of my mouth to regain control. I don't want Mulder to know I've lost hope.

"Hang in there, babe," I whisper to him.

"I...I'm sorry..." he mumbles.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. Don't talk. Conserve your strength."

He nods.

Kurtz whispers in my ear, "What can I do?"

"Nothing," I hiss low. I press the shirt tight against Mulder's stomach. God, there's a lot of blood. He groans and his eyes roll back in his head as he falls unconscious.

"He's dying," I sob, the tears coming at last and I can't hold them back.

Kurtz shakes his head and makes the sign of the cross over Mulder's body. Then he begins to pray. I recognize it...he's...he's giving Mulder the last rights.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, stricken and barely able to think straight. "This man's a Jew," I add numbly.

"Who gives a fuck. I used to be...I'm a Catholic priest. I'm going to give this man the last rights."

I stare at him in dumbfounded amazement. Christ we should have had that drink so he could tell me his life story flits crazily through my mind. Kurtz's life? Kurtz...Kurtz has..."

"Sam! I grab his arm. Did you...did you have time to filter my blood?"

"What?"

"The nanocytes? Did you process them?"

"Yeah, why...Oh shit...yeah...but...that's a risk..."

"He's dying anyway. Get them," I hiss and Kurtz almost falls on his face as he bolts for room 1 again.

I move to cradle Mulder's head in my lap. He's still breathing but he's bleeding so badly I start to pray myself. I pray that Kurtz will make it back in time so I can inject Mulder with the one thing that may give him at least a chance at survival.

"Hang on, Mulder. Please...just breathe," I beg as I watch his chest rise and fall.

Kurtz returns quickly with Garrity's deputies in tow and the syringe in hand. I tell them to back off, there's nothing they can do for Mulder. They take one look at what's left of Spender and head back to their squad to call the sheriff. Kurtz hands me the syringe and I uncap it.

I bend down next to Mulder, who incredibly, opens his eyes. He tries to speak and I lean close.

"Hurts," he whispers.

"I know, Mulder. I...I'm going to give you something to make it feel better," I reply, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

He smiles weakly and breathes out, "Thanks...Walter."

I smile and lift his arm up, plunging the needle home smoothly into the vein on the inside of his elbow.

Kurtz is standing by, keeping one eye out for the deputies to return and the other on me as I inject the nanocytes into Mulder's bloodstream.

I pull the needle out, recap the syringe, and put it in my jeans.

"Help me carry him back to the room," I order Kurtz.

He nods without question and moves to help me.

xXx

We lay Mulder carefully on the bed in room number 20 and I sit down beside him on the edge. Kurtz goes to stand by the door and look out through the curtains.

I stroke Mulder's hair and hold his hand. His skin is sweaty and cool to the touch. He's still breathing but it's very shallow. I have no idea what will happen now. The nanocytes will either kill him or cure him. But as to what happens when they first enter a body and try to repair major damage like this - I haven't a clue.

"I'd better go run interference with Garrity for as long as I can. But he's going to want to know what happened with Mulder," Kurtz advises me.

"So what?" I hiss. "I did what had to be done. The injection was the only recourse Mulder had here."

"I know that but...the law is kind of specific on that point. Injecting has to be an informed decision. This...if he dies...it's murder, Skinner."

"If he fucking dies, Spender murdered him," I growl, glaring at Kurtz.

He shrugs.

"You're preaching to the choir, bud. Believe me, I understand."

I let my shoulders sag, "I'm sorry. I'd appreciate it if you handle the sheriff, Sam. Thanks," I nod, turning back to Mulder and stroking his brow.

"Ok. No problem," Kurtz answers and I hear him open the room door.

I run my hand over Mulder's face. His skin feels markedly warmer. I look up to mention it to Kurtz but he's gone, shutting the door behind him.

I glance down at Mulder's stomach and notice that the blood isn't seeping out around the soaked T-shirt like it was before. I lift the T-shirt up and examine the wounds in his stomach. They feel really hot. I jerk my hand away just as Mulder twitches violently on the bed.

His eyes fly open and he stares, not seeing for a moment, then focusing on me.

"Bu..bu....bug...bugs crawling all over me!" he cries out, bringing his hands up to tear at his skin.

"No...they aren't bugs. It's ok," I reply as calmly as possible. I grasp his hands and push them flat on the bed.

"Get 'em off. Itches. Get 'em...uhhhhhh," he groans, falling back, saliva running from the corner of his mouth.

"Christ," I breathe out, removing the bloody folded up T-shirt and tossing it on the floor. Mulder's burning up now. Sweat's springing out all over his body. He's starting to tremble spastically, shaking so hard I can barely hold on to him. Moans are driven out of his chest without his conscious knowledge and finally he cries out.

"Walter!" he screams once and then falls silent to merely shake, and drool some more.

"Oh, babe, I'm here," I whisper, cradling him close as best I can.

There's a knock on the door.

"Walter, it's me, Mary," Mary Whitefeather calls.

"Come," I call out and she enters quickly, shuts the door and locks us in.

"How is he?" she asks coming close to the bed.

"Something's happening...I...I'm not sure what though," I look up, not bothering to hide the raw fear in my eyes.

"Sam is talking to Garrity. He said to tell you he's insisting Mulder asked you to inject him before he lost consciousness. He was a witness. He just wanted you to know that because Garrity will ask. The sheriff is dealing with Spender's...remains right now. Oh, and he's called Dr. Singh."

"Ok. I...God...I really appreciate all you've done," I whisper as Mulder jerks violently one more time.

"Shit...can I help?" she asks gesturing towards his legs.

"Can you get me a cold cloth? He's burning up," I reply, struggling to comfort my lover as he writhes, unconscious in my arms.

xXx

August 10, 2005. Dawn. Room 20. The Dust Devil Motel, Godwillin, New Mexico

Mulder lay for 2 days in the grip of the nanocytes. He would burn with fever one moment, sweat like hell and then shake with chills the next. He writhed, had to be held down, thrashed and screamed. We had to diaper him, improvising towels for the job, because he wet and soiled himself. I sponge bathed him to clean up the mess. Mary changed the sheets while Kurtz and I moved Mulder to the floor until she was done.

Dr. Singh appeared and had no idea what to do with Mulder other than cold towels for the fever and warm blankets for the chills. He recommended not tying him down since he might injure himself worse if he struggled against the bonds.

Garrity interviewed me while Singh and Mary Whitefeather spelled me with Mulder. He brought back my Bowie knife and handed it to me, with a grim twist of his lips. The interrogation was short and sweet.

"Did he ask for the shot?" the sheriff asked, looking in my eyes.

"I can't lie to you, Dan. No...he was out when I gave it to him," I replied honestly.

Garrity ran a hand through his hair.

"Thought so. Sam's a lousy liar. Look...fuck it. Spender's dead. Mulder...well I hope to hell he recovers," he hissed, slapping me on the back as he walked away.

Mary and Sam took turns with me tending to Mulder. Both of them were incredible and I couldn't ask for two more kind and faithful friends.

This morning, Mary is with me as Mulder lies quietly for the first time in two days. I've hardly slept in all that time and I'm just about done in myself. I'm sitting on one of the chairs at his bedside, wiping him down with another cool cloth. We took a chance this morning and put a clean pair of briefs on him. Mary is asleep in my sleeping bag on the floor. I feel my eyes, and then my head grow heavy as sleep overtakes me.

"Sleep...on...job?" a voice murmurs, causing my head to snap up off my chest.

Mulder is awake and giving me a weak, lopsided grin. I smile wide and touch his hair, running my hand through it.

"You bored the hell out of me, what can I say?" I reply, choking back the tears welling up in my throat.

"Bas...tard," he grins, "but...glad...you're stubborn. Saved me," he sighs, swallowing hard.

"You know it. I wasn't about to let you get away that easily."

He nods.

"You want some water?" I ask as he licks his lips.

He nods again. I go quietly to the sink and fill one of the cups there from the water jug. I bring it back over and support his upper body while he sips from the cup. When he's had his fill, I lower him gently and set the cup on the night stand.

"How do you feel?" I ask carefully.

"Like...hit by...truck," he coughs.

"Well...rest. We