by Claire Dobbin
"Aaahhh... " Walter said, his tongue and brain not yet in sync.
"Yes, Aaa... lex. Me Alex, you Walter," Alex prompted as he hopped off
the bed and began hauling Walter into a sitting position and plumping
pillows between his back and the headboard. Satisfied that Walter was
fairly stable he turned to the dresser to retrieve the breakfast tray
he'd left there earlier.
"All your favourites, Walter," Alex said pressing the tall glass of
freshly squeezed orange juice into Walter's still rubbery hand. "I've
a few errands to run. Won't be long."
And he disappeared.
It took him a while but Walter found his appetite and motor skills
sufficiently to devour the delicious breakfast. Then he set the tray
aside and settled back to enjoy the rest of his self indulgent
Saturday morning. As his eyes closed random thoughts floated through
his mind '...must remember to check the Lexus in for service... have
to call about Alex's birthday present... need to look through that
report again... what a way to wake up... and last night... Alex
was incredible... he's been insatiable all week... I'll be lucky if
I can gather the energy to get out of bed...'
What a difference from last weekend when Alex had been conspicuous by
his absence. He'd been pretty vague about where he'd been. Hadn't
explained why he'd been late for dinner every night through the week
either. But when he'd come home... wow... he'd made up for lost
time. Had been downright attentive in other ways too. Picked up the
dry cleaning, bought that selection of gourmet cheeses, found Walter's
missing cuff link, relinquished the remote control without a murmur...
Walter's eyes flew open and he sat up so abruptly his stomach lurched.
"Oh my God," he said to the empty room, "what has he done?"
He pulled on his sweats and tried to suppress the desire to call a
lawyer. "You are a lawyer, you idiot," he told himself. "Yeah, a
lawyer who's talking to himself."
He went through the house looking for something, anything that would
give him a clue as to what catastrophe was about to befall them both.
Nothing obvious. Everything was as it should be. There was nothing out
of the ordinary.
Then his mind went into overdrive.
The Consortium had reared its ugly head again. Alex was 'moonlighting'
at his old profession. He was sick. He was seeing someone else...
...that one knocked the wind out of him and he sank down into the
couch, the ulcer that he'd kept at bay for a long time making its
presence felt.
By the time he heard Alex's jeep pull into the garage he'd run through
the gamut of every emotion known to a middle aged, balding AD, who was
so deeply in love it defined his existence. And he did not feel the
better for the experience. Crossing the kitchen to the laundry room,
he waited for Alex to come in through the connecting garage door.
There was a lengthy delay and he could hear Alex's voice as though he
was on a cell phone. With that his heart sank further.
At last the door opened and Alex breezed in, looking a little flushed
and holding out a paper bag.
"Danish pastries from Koenig's Bakery," he said, reaching for the
coffee maker. When he glanced up at Walter again he turned off the tap
and asked, "What's wrong?"
Walter wasn't surprised by the question. He knew he probably looked as
green about the gills as he felt. "That was going to be my line," he
answered.
Alex's face took on the blank look it got when he had something to
hide.
"What's going on Alex?"
The silence that hung between them was pierced by a familiar but
unexpected sound. A sharp, angry bark. Alex stepped back and leaned
against the garage door.
"What the hell...?" Walter began, "...Alex?"
"Walter... I can explain... "
"I suggest you do so." Anxiety was replaced by relief, tinged with
impatience.
"Thursday week, I was driving home when I accidentally hit Jack."
"Jack?"
"That's what I named him."
"I presume you're referring to the canine presently residing in our
garage."
"Walter don't go AD on me."
"Then get to the point."
"He wasn't badly hurt but the vet wanted to keep him overnight. So I
checked him into the clinic."
"Why didn't you tell me about this on Thursday?"
"What is this, an interrogation?"
"Yes."
They glared at each other. Walter won.
"I liked him, okay?"
Walter managed to keep the amusement he felt from showing and
maintained his poker face.
"You'd better bring in exhibit A, I think."
Reluctantly, Alex opened the door and called out, "Jack, Jack, here
boy!"
Walter's mental image of Jack as a cute, fluffy bundle with large
puppy dog eyes, was quickly dispelled when in sauntered the most
disreputable looking mutt Walter Skinner had ever laid eyes upon. The
angular, lanky legs were matched in uncouthness only by the strangely
shaded light brown fur that looked suspiciously thin along his left
flank. One ear flopped over. The other one stood up straight and
seemed to be incomplete. He fixed Walter with a cool, world weary
gaze, before beginning a perimeter check.
Walter watched him disappear into the living room, then turned back to
Alex to remark, "One of the nobler bloodlines, I see."
"Oh yeah," Alex grinned, "one hundred percent down and dirty dog."
Walter laughed, "So what happens now?"
Alex looked hopefully at him and Walter could almost hear the words,
'Can I keep him, please? Can I?' But instead he said, "He seems to be
a stray. I checked with the local shelter. Left my name and address in
case someone comes looking for him."
"Since that's a highly unlikely eventuality," Walter said, "I suppose
we'd better settle him in."
Alex beamed at him, "It's okay?"
"Sure," Walter replied with apparent disinterest, all the while
thinking, 'You can keep a fucking zoo here if you want Alex, a
humpback whale in the Jacuzzi, a lama in the laundry room.' He pulled
Alex into a hug,
"We'll need... dog stuff."
"Got everything. In the car." He turned in Walter's arms and began
nuzzling into his lover's neck.
"Fait accompli," Walter murmured, his lips tracing Alex's hairline to
an ear that just begged to be nibbled.
Alex pulled back, "You're sure?"
Walter smiled then, "I'm sure, Alex. So long as... "
"I know," Alex said nodding, "he's my responsibility, the feeding, the
walking, the muddy paw marks... "
"Have you done this before?" Walter asked.
"No, but how hard can it be?"
"Well..." Walter's voice dropped an octave, "in the spirit of
scientific investigation I'm up for finding out."
"Oh yeah... " Alex began an enthusiastic session of tonsil hockey
that ended only when Walter caught a glimpse of wagging tail vanishing
into the dining room.
He disengaged Alex's limpet like mouth and asked, "I take it he's
house trained?"
"House trained?" Alex's vision cleared. "Oh shit!"
"Precisely."
Walter snorted as his lover disappeared.
It took Jack about two days to assume the dominant position in the
household, though he had the grace to allow Walter the illusion of top
dog status. Alex, of course, was putty in his paws. As a kind of
independent operator Jack wasn't happy with too much physical contact
but he loyally tagged along behind the two men like a third shadow. He
liked to make a place for himself at the foot of the king size bed his
masters shared and was smart enough to know when to make himself
scarce. An all too frequent occurrence as far as he was concerned,
though he noticed they were always more indulgent of his peculiar ways
after the bed bouncing.
And when the issue of... eh... neutering... had arisen at the vet's
office he REALLY appreciated the way the guys had circled the wagons.
All this, and a household in which steak was frequently on the menu.
What more could any old hound dog ask for?
alter Skinner let out a long, shuddering sigh as he recovered from
what was undoubtedly the best blow job of his life. Had he the energy,
or the muscle control to lift his head he would have seen Alex Krycek
emerge from beneath the sheets life a master craftsman, justifiably
proud of a job well done. But since Walter was temporarily incapable,
Alex crawled up to straddle his torso and bent down to place feather
soft kisses all over his lover's face.
