Rating: Adult for sexual content, mature subject matter. Category: Skinner/ OC Romance Classification: Het Disclaimer: Not mine, don't make any $ off this. Summary: A case full of zigzags leads Skinner to a romance that has a few twists of its own. Author's Note: In this story, Avatar never took place, allowing Walter's divorce to occur much earlier and under different circumstances. Cast * Morela Lee - Catherine Zeta Jones * Conrad Simmons - Harrison Ford * Nina Simmons - Lois Chiles * Carl Reitman - Kevin Pollock * Jake Kessler - Stephen King * Walter Skinner - Mitch Pileggi * Sharon Skinner - Jennifer Hetrick * Dominic D'Amato - Joe Bologna * The Assistant Director - Philip Bosco * Douglas Lawford - Robert Vaughn * Fox Mulder - David Duchovny * Dana Scully - Gillian Andersen Zigzag by Mummiehelen grhesc@yahoo.com The Forum Gentleman's Club, Washington DC Autumn 1989 Morela smiled down at the audience from her position on stage. She'd just left Conrad in the private room he kept here. She was allowed two hours for dinner which she always took with him when he visited. They'd have a bite to eat then make love till it was almost time for her to return for her second performance of the night. The manager,Carl Reitman knocked on the door, concerned because the senator usually left shortly after having 'dinner' with Morela.When there was no answer, he used his passkey and was greeted by a grisly sight. 8:45 P.M. Walter Skinner had been working in his cubicle when his phone rang. It was his AD calling to summon him and his partner, Dominick D'Amato to his office ASAP. Now they sat opposite him listening as he described the case he was giving them. "The body of the democratic senator from Idaho was found tonight." he said handing Skinner a folder. Inside were photographs of the scene, and all relevant information thus far. He was a member of the type of establishment law enforcement frowned upon but, as long as they were populated by Washington's elite, there was little they could do to shut them down. "I want this kept low-key. The man was married with a family and.... 'If he calls him a pillar of the community, I'll scream!!' Skinner thought. favored by his party as a possible presidential candidate." "You don't suppose ol' Conrad was concerned about his wife and family while he was dipping his wick do you?" Dominick chuckled as Skinner drove to the address in the file. "No. It only becomes an issue if the guy gets caught." he replied. "One thing's for sure, he had the right stuff to become a democratic president." Dominick added and they both cracked up. "Listen." Walter said as they pulled up to the place. "We have to get right before we go in there." Dom passed his hand over his face changing his expression to serious. "OK, I'm ready." The coroner had already removed the body and the crime lab was gathering evidence. They spoke with Carl who told him everything he knew of the senator's movements that night. "Why call the bureau instead of the police?" Dom asked. "I didn't. I called the owner. He made contact with the FBI for his own reasons." Neither had to have that explained to them. Many of the bureau's upper echelon were also members here and a very public police presence was the last thing they wanted. "We'll need to speak with Ms. Lee." Skinner said. "She's still on but she'll be finished in about fifteen minutes." "Which one is she?" D'Amato asked. "Derby hat." Carl said and returned to his office. They went out to the lounge and found her on her own satellite stage about eight feet in diameter and the same distance above the floor. She was dressed in cabaret style with bustier, black nets and the bowler hat over a straight, chin length bob. Walter watched her mesmerized. This wasn't just someone hired off the street because of her looks. She had the body and long, sleek legs of one who'd trained all her life. He wondered if she wrapped them around the senator when they fucked and fantasized for a moment what that would feel like.Then shook himself free of such thoughts and watched her performance. Her movements were precise yet had a woman's grace. She noticed them and gave a little wink with just a hint of a smile. A few minutes later, they were knocking on her dressing room door. She opened it. "Morela Lee?" Skinner asked. "Yes." "I'm Special Agent Skinner, this is my partner Agent D'Amato." he said, flashing his ID."May we speak with you?" "Yes." she said stepping aside for them to enter. Her appearance was strikingly different from a few minutes ago. The short wig rested on a head form. Her own hair tumbled around her shoulders in soft dark waves. The heavy makeup was replaced with a bare minimum which was far more flattering in Skinner's opinion. Her costume was flung over a changing screen while she wore a short pink silk robe. Dominick was openly appraising her while Walter asked questions. "When was the last time you saw Conrad Simmons?" "Tonight between six and eight PM." "He was found dead shortly after you left him." Skinner said, showing her the photographs. "What happened?" she asked, barely above a whisper. "We were hoping you could tell us." "You think I had something to do with this?" "You were the last one to see him alive." "I had no reason to kill him. I can't even imagine what did this." she said. The photos showed him on the floor like he was trying crawl away from the couch. Blood oozed from his eyes, ears, nose, mouth and pores. "Perhaps he promised to leave his wife and you got tired of being strung along." Dominick suggested. "I didn't want him to leave his wife and I certainly didn't want to marry him." "But you were his mistress." Skinner shot at her. "I never thought of it that way." she said. "How did you think of it?" "We had fun, yes it included sex but we both knew there was no more to it than that." "How's that?" "Men like Conrad have to create an image for the public that they need to escape from occasionally. The wives they choose usually try to live that image 24/7. I have no such desire." "So what's in it for you...money?" Skinner asked more snidely than he intended. "I'm not a prostitute. Conrad gave me gifts sometimes but never cash. No, I'm drawn to the power, like a moth to the flame." "And you were content with that kind of relationship?" "Nothing's permanent, not even marriage.I knew there'd come a time when he'd want to move on and I was OK with that." "With being alone?" Dominick asked. "That doesn't bother me. Besides, Conrad's not the only man I see." "Saw." Skinner corrected. "Sorry, it's difficult to think of him in the past tense." "I think that's all for now. Don't leave town Ms. Lee." Skinner said, concluding the interview. "We may have more questions for you." "I wasn't planning on going anywhere." she said smiling at him in a way that made him a little weak in the knees. "So?" Dom asked once they were outside the club. "I don't think she did it but, I'll wait for the results of the autopsy." he said noncommittally. "I meant about her. Damn she's a knockout." Skinner just gave him a sidelong glance. "Dig it man, she was coming on to you." Dom taunted. "Eh, she's probably talks that way to all men." he dismissed. "She didn't to me." he protested. He just shrugged. "We have to go talk to Mrs Simmons." Dom groaned. He agreed. This was the worst part of the job, informing the family of a death. Skinner put the car in gear and headed for Jamestown. Simmons Residence "No. It can't be. I refuse to believe it!" Mrs. Simmons' voice rose with each word. "I'm sorry for your loss Ma'am." Skinner said, hoping to be able to get out of there soon. He didn't handle emotions well, neither others nor his own and he felt a major outburst brewing. "But he was here this afternoon. He stopped by cause he was going to have to be out for the evening as he often does. The life of a politician you know." she said with a weak smile. "He sat at the kitchen table and had a little soup. It was all so...normal." "What time was that?" "Around five. He left just before six. That's when we usually have dinner." She paused, then. "When may I have him? I have to make funeral arrangements." "Let us know the name of the funeral parlor and we'll release the body directly to them as soon as the autopsy is done." Dom said, handing her his card. It was past midnight before Skinner got home. He undressed quietly and slipped into bed next to his sleeping wife. 'Another evening lost to the job.' he thought bitterly. He would have to make more of an effort for Sharon's sake. They had been married for ten years and trying to have a baby for the last two. He was just out of the academy and was concentrating on his career,she had just started working in an art gallery. They both had erratic schedules, hers eventually settled into a routine, his never did. After their fifth anniversary they started talking seriously about setting a time to try and get pregnant. But it kept getting put off for one reason or another. Meanwhile stress built up between them making the mechanics of conception all the more difficult. To add to the tension, Sharon was beginning to regard making love as only for that reason and if she wasn't ovulating,then she didn't want to bother. He could never make her understand that the intimacy of coupling was one of the few times he could give free rein to his feelings and if she could manage it other than when her cycle was right, they might be able to sort out some of the underlying issues between them.She saw this as merely a ploy for more sex and they usually ended up in an argument. He got up early and left in order to avoid another breakfast of cold-shouldered silence, grabbed coffee and a donut and caught up with Dom. "I just got a call from Jake. He has the autopsy results on Simmons." "Let's go." Skinner said stuffing the last of his breakfast into his mouth. "You eat like a fucking animal, you know that Walt?" "I get it in me, that's all that matters." he retorted. "You have to get a more Italian attitude about your food. We sit, we talk, we take our time to enjoy what we eat." Dom said with the appropriate hand gestures. Skinner couldn't remember the last time he had a relaxing meal at home. By this time they had reached the basement morgue where Jake Kessler, the M.E. was waiting. "So?" Dom asked. "Your boy here died a rather nasty and unusual death." "How so?" Skinner asked. "He was poisoned with a substance called DMN. It's used to create cancer in lab rats but acts as a poison in humans." "Why was he bleeding like that?" Dom asked. "It contracts the veins forcing blood out of the body through any orifice." "Yuck!" Dom grimaced. "Yes." Jake agreed. "It was ingested in just the right amount to make it take several hours to complete the job. Now this isn't something that's readily available." "So you think it was done by someone in the medical profession?" Walter asked. "More specifically,someone with access to the chemicals in a cancer research lab." he said, handing him the folder with the results of the autopsy. The two agents crammed into Walter's cubicle and studied the information. Walter noticed something that made him stop and read it again. There were two levels of digested food in his system. The older was beef, potatoes assorted vegetables and barley. The second meal was comprised of snails, mushrooms, sausage, cheeses and olives. "Dom, check your notes. What time did Mrs. Simmons say her husband was home? "Around five and he left before six." he read. "He arrived at the Forum Club a little after six. Ms. Lee was waiting for him in his private room. The kitchen verified she'd ordered escargot, stuffed mushrooms and assorted cheeses and olives." "You think she poisoned him then went out to do her set?" "Well, Jake did say it was ingested." he said then stopped short. Because of the way the poison works and the size of the victim, the coroner was able to pinpoint the time from ingestion to death at three hours. Death occurred at 8:15 PM. "Son of a bitch!" Walter exclaimed as he threw the file on his desk. "He ingested the poison at 5:15! "It was in the soup?" "Had to be. I think it's time we paid a return visit to the widow Simmons." Nina fairly danced around her kitchen. She was free. Free to live her life with money she wouldn't have gotten if they'd divorced, not to mention free of the scandal of a broken marriage. Now she was a widow. A very rich widow. She could see her lover whenever she wanted now but, of course they'd still have to be discreet. The first thing she had to do this morning was go to Julia's school to tell her about her father.Before she did,she'd have to muster the proper grieving pose.It was going to be difficult but she had to pull this off for her daughter. Julia adored her father. She called the headmistress of the private boarding school and told her the news and that she'd be there no later than noon depending on traffic to relay it to Julia personally. All she wanted was to have a private place in which to do so." "Of course Mrs. Simmons and may I offer my condolences." "Thank you." she said with just enough hitch in her voice. Meanwhile the agents went to a federal judge with their information. He granted them a warrant and they headed for Jamestown. Nina Simmons changed into somber clothes and gave the performance of a lifetime when she tearfully told her daughter the news.She held her while the teenager cried, stroking her back soothingly. She felt bad for her.The girl had always been closer to her father and now that he was gone, she imagined the gulf between them would only widen. She got out of there as fast as she gracefully could under the circumstances with the excuse of having to make the 'arrangements'. She decided to make a side stop instead. The agents rang her bell several times and were just about to leave when they heard a car pull up to the driveway. Mrs. Simmons got out and grabbed several shopping bags from the back seat and headed in their direction, humming a happy tune which died on her lips when she saw them waiting for her. "Gentleman?" she said trying to act the genteel widow. "Mrs. Simmons, we have a warrant to search the premises." Skinner said as Dom summoned the team who were waiting in a van parked on the street. Walter took the bags printed with the names of several high end department stores and boutiques and emptied the contents on the kitchen table. "Interesting apparel for a newly widowed woman." he said holding up a lacy garter belt he took from the pile of lingerie. She said nothing. One of the agents found a storage container half full of soup and bagged it. "We're taking you in for questioning in regards to the murder of your husband." he said. "Murder!?!" she exclaimed as the officer led her away. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Save it." Walter snapped, disgusted that she could shop for this stuff before her husband was even cold but, it did give him the idea that she may have an accomplice. Nina Simmons sat alone in the interrogation room wondering why they were waiting so long to question her. Her curiosity was satisfied soon enough. The partners walked in and sat across from her. "This is the report of the toxicology screen that was done on the contents in your husband's stomach." Skinner began. "This is the result of tests done on the soup we found in your refrigerator." Dom added. "As you can see, this substance DMN was found in both. He showed her both reports with it circled in red. "I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of your husband, Conrad Simmons." Skinner said. "Stand up." "I didn't kill him. I don't even know what that is." she screamed and began to cry frantically. The men exchanged glances, each wondering if this was just an act or perhaps there was more to this case than they first thought. "Alright, sit down Mrs. Simmons." She did. "Now maybe you can explain how it got in the soup in your kitchen." "I don't know." "Your daughter's at school and your husband certainly didn't do it so, was there anyone else at the house that could have put it in the food?" She thought for a minute. Doug had been there earlier in the afternoon before Conrad called to say he was coming home for a little bit because he had a meeting that night.They had made love and talked about how wonderful it would be when they could be together out in the open. But he couldn't have done it. She hadn't yet mustered the courage to tell him about her idea of killing her husband.... unless he thought of doing it on his own. "Mrs. Simmons?" Skinner's deadly whisper brought her back to the moment. She looked up at him, defeated. "Who were you buying the lingerie for?" "Myself." His fist came down on the table in a thundering crash. "I'm losing my patience so I'll ask you this just once. Who else was in your house?" "Douglas Lawford!" she shouted, realizing it was the end of all her plans but, she wasn't going to prison for him, even if he did kill Conrad for her. "How do you know him?" Dom asked. "I met him at a ACS fund raiser. We started having an affair but I didn't think he'd kill to be with me." she said, hoping to slant the blame away from herself. "Yet you didn't have any of the soup." "No. I didn't eat till later and then it was just a salad." They went to pick up Douglas Lawford for questioning, except there was no sign of him at his apartment. They found the manager and had him let them in. The place was bare to the walls. "Hmmm." Dom noted. "Didn't take long for him to clear out, did it?" Walter leaned against the door frame. "You know what bothers me? Why she kept the soup. I mean it's the best proof we have against her. Why not just toss it down the disposal, wash the container and be done with it?" "Yeah, it doesn't make any sense, unless she really didn't know it was poisoned." "So where does that leave us?" "Well, we have the husband who was cheating on his wife with a dancer who was the last one to see him alive. But the time frame for the poison to act is wrong so that clears her. A wife who was cheating with a guy who works in a cancer research lab and has access to DMN." "So Douglas poisons the husband to be with the wife but splits?" Walter shrugged his broad shoulders. "That doesn't make any sense either." "Unless they were planning to meet up elsewhere." "You think she'd just walk away from her comfortable, socially correct life, away from her daughter to be with this guy?" "I don't know but I think we should check where he works next." "Good idea." Metro Labs, Inc. Baltimore MD. After obtaining another warrant, they went to Doug's workplace,or rather his former workplace. Everything pertaining to it, notebooks, disks, etc were gone and his locker was cleaned out. "I don't understand." his lab supervisor said. "It's not like him to just up and leave like this." "What was he like on the job?" "Very focused." "Did he interact with others?" "Not very much. His work isolated him." "Did he have access to DMN?" "Of course. It was the basis of his research." "How so?" "He was using it on lab animals to try and reverse the cause of specific cancers in humans." "But he had to induce it in animals first?" "Of course." "Thank you. You've been very helpful." Dom said and they left. "He took all his records, including the computer so we have no way to know how he dispensed the poison.How much he actually gave the animals and how much he was stashing for his own use." "A thought just occurred to me." Skinner said as they came to a red light. "Care to share?" Dom snickered. "How did Douglas know only the husband would eat the soup?" "Maybe he didn't." "Meaning the husband wasn't the target." "But Mrs. Simmons portrayed their relationship as more than an affair." "So says she." It was Walter's turn to snicker. "It fits. He kills her to get out of the affair that she sees as much more, then takes off for a new life somewhere else." "Perhaps with someone else." "Perhaps." They would have to follow whatever threads they could to lead them to Doug Lawford but, that would have to wait until tomorrow. The Forum Gentleman's Club Morela had just finished her set and was in her dressing room massaging a combination of muscle cream and body lotion into her hands, preparing to apply the mixture to her aching legs when there was a knock at the door. "Come in." she called. Skinner walked in to find her at her dressing table with one leg straight in the air. "How can you do that?" he asked. "Practice. But I'm sure that's not what you came to ask." "No." he chuckled. "I came to tell you you've been cleared." She seemed less than impressed. In fact, it looked like she was stifling a laugh. "What." he asked somewhat irritated. "You didn't have to come here to tell me. You could've just called. In fact, you didn't have to tell me at all." "Why?" For one thing, I knew I'd be cleared because I had nothing to do with Conrad's death. For another, if you thought I was guilty, you'd be placing me under arrest instead of gawking at my leg." "It's kinda hard to miss when it's hoisted in the air like that." he said with a rare smile. "I do it to reverse the blood flow after an hour of pounding the boards. I wasn't expecting an audience here in my dressing room." she said, unselfconsciously switching legs, she began to process all over again. He watched in stupefied fascination and she stroked the mixture into her sore but gorgeous limb. "Was there anything else?" she asked, purposely interrupting his gaze. She was used to men looking at her out there but this was her private domain where she wasn't on display. "No." He said a hasty goodnight and left. He slipped in beside his sleeping wife. Another evening given to the job instead of her. For the next few weeks,the partners followed the path Douglas Lawford took to make his escape. He put his furnishings in a local U-store-it warehouse and paid all his utilities and rent. The postmarks were local so they gave them no clue to his whereabouts. He sold his car to a small used vehicle business and there the trail went dead. They checked immigration to see if he had or applied for a passport. They covered all ports of egress, airports, train stations and bus terminals, showing his picture and checking for ticket purchases...nothing. Meanwhile, once she realized Doug was gone, Mrs. Simmons had a mental collapse and had to hospitalized. One night during this period, Walter came home about ten to find Sharon had gone to bed. It had been a particularly frustrating day and he hoped she might still be awake. It would be too much to hope that she would want to make love but he'd settle for a little comfort. He undressed and slipped in beside her but instead of just settling in to sleep, he reached for her. "Sharon?" he whispered. She jerked away. "What's the matter?" he asked, stunned. "We were supposed to go to the clinic tonight for the results of our tests." The clinic in question was a family planning facility. He had completely forgotten it was tonight. "Did you go?" he asked sheepishly. "Yes, I went and I found out I can't conceive!" She might as well have slapped his face. He reached for her. "No, Walter. I want you to leave." "What?" "I don't want you to sleep in here anymore." "You can't mean that." he said, aghast. "I do. I want you out." "Sharon, this affects me too." he pleaded. "I don't see how. You're never here to be part of this marriage and I'm sick and tired of it." From there the argument degenerated into recriminations and ended with Skinner not just leaving their bedroom but their house. He dressed and drove around awhile before he went to where he knew he'd end up. This time he didn't bother knocking. He just charged in to her dressing room. Morela turned on her bench at the vanity, startled but with no chance to respond. He pulled her up and backed her against the door, untying the sash of her robe in the process. One hand wound around her waist while the other explored her body. He leaned down and kissed her savagely, his tongue pushing into her mouth to meet hers. Now he used his free hand to tear at his clothing. His breathing ragged while he worked on his shirt buttons. She unbuckled his belt and undid the hook on the waistband of his dress slacks. He pulled away long enough to yank his shirt off, unzip his pants and pull them and his briefs to his knees. He embraced her again and she could feel his erection pressing into her abdomen. His mouth was on hers again, pressing hard enough to smash her lips against her teeth, his tongue rooting around the soft lining of her mouth while hers rolled around it a sort of snake dance. He used one hand to lift her leg and wrap it around his back, then guided his cock to her center and thrust his hips till he was all the way in. "Put your other leg around me." he rasped. Once she did, he wound one arm under her behind and the other at the middle of her back to protect it from rubbing against the door. Then began to roll his hips in a steady rhythm. She moved in time with him, meeting each thrust so he got maximum penetration. She had her hands hooked over his shoulders so that the palms were facing her. When she felt he was close, she gripped them and hung on for dear life as he exploded into her. Her own climax proceeding his by seconds. As she lowered her legs to the floor, it was the first time she allowed herself to wonder what had triggered his visit. She pulled her robe back on and she retied the sash. Meanwhile he dressed quickly, his stance telling her he wasn't sure what to do next. "Do you have someplace to spend the night?" she asked. He hesitated because he hadn't really thought about it but, now he was certain he didn't want to go home. At his silence she replied. "You can come with me if you like. Just give me a minute." She slipped behind the folding screen, dressed in slacks and a sweater and was out within a few minutes. She grabbed her coat and bag and walked out. He followed her to the club's private garage. She headed for her car. He started for his, intending to follow her. "Leave it. It'll be safe here." she said in a voice that brooked no argument which was fine with him, he had no more fight left in him. He slid in on the passenger side and they drove to her apartment. They arrived and she unlocked her door, tossing the keys on the kitchen counter. "You can sleep on the couch or with me...your choice." she said as she removed her coat. Although the sofa in question looked like it might accommodate his length, he chose to sleep with her. She changed into a sleep shirt and climbed under the covers. He undressed down to his briefs and got in beside her. She switched off the lamp and snuggled down, settling in. He pulled her to him. "Why did you let me come here?" he asked. "You have no place to go and were in no condition to drive around." "I'm not drunk." he said defensively. "I didn't say you were. Something happened tonight to rankle you. In that state of mind, you wouldn't be paying full attention to driving. That's how accidents happen." "I owe you an explanation." "I don't want one. Besides, I think I can guess." "You think you know me?" "I know the type. You hold everything in till nothing more will fit. Then something happens to set you off and you explode. Whatever it was must've been pretty bad." "Close enough." he relented. "But I don't want to talk about it. I'd rather just be with you." he said. His mouth closed over hers in a far more tender kiss than earlier. He grasped her leg and placed it over his so he could pull her as close to him as possible. He slid one arm under her pillow and held her with the other. She cupped the back of his head and stroked the tender skin, kissing all the while till they fell asleep. Walter woke the next morning alone. He used the bathroom and dressed then came out to the living room where Morela was writing at a desk. "Good morning." he said. "Sleep well?" "Surprisingly." he acknowledged. He took a look around. The apartment was small but well laid out. The bedroom and living/dining room had sliding doors out to a balcony. The kitchen and bath were on either side of the entrance and backed up to the hallway. The sofa served as a divider between the two public areas. The wall was lined with case pieces, with an spot for a TV plus open and closed storage. The table in back of the couch served as a sofa table and a side board for the dining area. Opposite was a demi-lune table that could be converted to a round one that sat six. "I have a million things to do today but, I'll drop you off at your car first." "How about some breakfast?" "I offered room, not board." she said with a smile. "I meant I'd like to take you out to eat. You should have some nourishment before you attempt all those million things." he teased. "Alright." she nodded with a grin. Afterword, she dropped him off at his car. It was Saturday and he really didn't have anything to do.He didn't want to go home, even though Sharon was at work, it would be too much of a reminder of last night. He wanted to spend it with Morela but she seemed to have her day planned and it didn't include him. In the end, he went to the office. He showered, shaved and donned the fresh set of clothes he kept in his locker at the gym in the basement. Then he did some paperwork till he could no longer put off the inevitable. He unlocked the door and came in almost on tiptoes. He went to the bedroom, unsure of what he was expecting. He opened the walk-in closet to find it half empty, came back out and yanked open the dresser drawers that used to hold his clothes. "Your things are in the spare bedroom." Sharon said from the doorway. He just stood in front of the empty drawers, unable to speak. "I meant what I said. This is what you get for staying out all night." "What would be the point of staying here, you've made it perfectly clear you want nothing more to do with me?" It was a stand-off for a moment, then he came up to her face-to-face. "If I stay in this house, it'll be as your husband in the same bedroom." "I won't have you back here." she said, jutting her chin out stubbornly. "Very well, goodbye." he said and went to the other room, threw his clothes in his suitcases and left, not knowing where to go. Morela had let him stay last night but, going back might be pushing her hospitality. So he checked into a hotel. Sharon sank to the floor amid the wreckage of their bedroom thinking it was an appropriate symbol for their marriage. She had been furious when he didn't show up to go to the clinic but, worried when he stayed out all night. She'd moved his stuff to the second bedroom, the one they had planned to use as a nursery this morning in the hope it might provoke him. They'd argue then reconcile but, something just snapped when she saw him. She sat on the carpet and cried till her head hurt. She tried to tell herself he'd be back but her heart knew better. Her heart was right. After spending several weeks in the house alone, she contacted a lawyer. He advised her she wouldn't be granted a dissolution without a good reason. "I suggest you hire a private investigator to see if you can get something on him to use as leverage." he said, handing her the business card of a PI he assured her was reputable. Back at home, she stared at it as if it alone could answer the questions she wasn't sure she wanted to ask. She turned it over in her hands trying to decide whether or not to take this step. If she did there'd be no turning back but, things couldn't go on as they were either. She finally decided to call him. Walter switched to an extended stay hotel. Once he was settled in, he called Morela to ask her out. "You think it's a good idea?" "Why wouldn't it be?" "It might not do well for you to be seen with me when you're married." "I've moved out." "Really, when?" "Shortly after the last time I saw you." "Well, I guess dinner would be alright then." she relented. She was off on Sunday and Tuesday nights, so they made it for Sunday evening. The venue was a small bistro in Georgetown. Over onion soup, they caught up with each other. He asked what was going on in her life and she was vague about answering him, directing the conversation instead to the progress of the case. "We've hit a dead end but, it can months to catch a break so I'm still hopeful we'll get him." Morela kept the rest of the conversation to small talk which made the end of the evening very awkward. Walter didn't want it to end at her door but felt uncomfortable asking her to extend the date because of their first sexual encounter. He wanted to talk about it, to get it straightened out but she had a subtle, indirect way of deflecting his approach. So he said goodnight after she thanked him for the evening. Monday Dom caught up with him the next morning and asked him what the hell was going on. "I called you at home yesterday and was informed you no longer live there." "That's right. I moved out." "Trouble on the home front?" "Yeah." "Does Ms. Lee have anything to do with it?" Walter stopped and glared at his partner. "No, there were problems before I met her." "Are you seeing her?" "What are you, my mother now?" "Hey Walter, I don't want to see anything happen to your career because you were seeing someone involved in a case. Someone who was a murder suspect for Christ sake." "Was is the key word here, she's been cleared remember?" "Do you know what the hell you're getting into?" Dom asked, shaking his head doubtfully. At this point, Walter wasn't too sure he knew the answer.That evening, he went to the club to talk to her. The doorman had been told it was OK to let him in. Because of the owner's connection to the FBI, the agent was informed he needn't flash his ID. Skinner was welcome cause he neither ate nor drank on the premises so he wasn't costing them any money. "I'd like to see you again but I don't know on what basis you'll allow." he began as frankly as he knew how. "We can have sex but, no promises...not on either side." "Fair enough." he said, thinking it was a start. The rest would come in time. So they began seeing each other on Sunday nights. Her one stipulation was that they meet somewhere other than their residences. "Why?" he asked. "Neutral ground. We bring nothing with us and take nothing away. The world is left at the door and there's only pure sex for a couple of hours." It didn't take long for Sharon's PI to discover their meeting place and verify they were seeing each other regularly. Now she had the ammunition she needed for the divorce but she wanted to speak to the woman before she took any legal steps. The PI had given Sharon Morela's schedule so she knew this little coffee shop was a favorite afternoon stop for her. She spotted her at a table near the window reading a book. She came over and sat down without waiting to be invited. "I'm Sharon Skinner, Walter's wife. May I have a word with you?" "Sure, would you like something to drink?" "No thank you. I don't think I'll be staying that long." she said, trying to sound sarcastic, like she didn't want to be in her company any longer than she had to. She just shrugged, placed a marker in her book and set it aside. "So, what's on your mind?" "Do you think he's going to leave me for you?" "Not for a minute but I also know he hasn't lived at home for weeks which makes me think you're not exactly in a state of wedded bliss." "So you do want him." "No I don't." "How can you do it then?" "If he doesn't have any respect for your marriage, why should I?" A waiter came over then and asked if she wanted to order. "No thanks." she said and he left. She stood and leaned over her. "Be prepared for a fight cause I'll tie the proceedings up in court for years." She looked up with a wry smile. "Perhaps before you prepare for battle, you should ask yourself why he left in the first place." At this, Sharon stormed out of the shop, slammed the door of her car and drove off. Right around the same time, Walter was determined to find out more about Morela and followed her one day. He tailed her to The Georgetown University Library. After she checked out several books and left, he approached the circulation desk and flashed his ID. "I need to know if the woman who just left is enrolled here." he said. She pulled her name up on the computer. "Yes. Heather Moran is a graduate student." "There must be some mistake. That's not her name." "Yes it is." she said, turning the monitor for him to see. "Which way to the registrar's office?" "That's in building C. Out the main doors and to your right, two buildings over." "Thank you." he said and dashed out. His visit to the enrollment office confirmed that she was indeed Heather Bridgette Moran. She was a second year graduate student working toward her masters degree in Library Science. The clerk gave him a printout of her class schedule. He had about fifteen minutes till her next class let out. He walked over to the building it was in and waited outside. A few minutes later the doors opened and students piled out. As the crowd thinned, he spotted her arm in arm with a young man talking and laughing. He was far enough away that she couldn't see him so he still had time to decide what to do. He elected to postpone a confrontation till they were alone and could talk about it. The Forum Gentleman's Club 11:00PM Morela came into her dressing room, tired and thirsty after her last set. Skinner was sitting in her visitor's chair. "Hello Heather." She closed the door and leaned against it. "I suppose you used your credentials to find out." "I wouldn't have had to if you'd just told me." "Why should I?" "Why shouldn't you?" "Morela Lee is my stage name. It keeps my professional life separate from my personal one." "And you don't believe after all this time I belong in the personal side of your life?" "I never led you to believe you did." "Know what I think?" "No but, I'm sure you're going to tell me." "I think you're afraid to get involved. That's why you choose men who are unavailable." "OK, wanna know what I think? I think you like pitting us against each other. That's why you told Sharon my name and where to find me. But I'll tell you what I told her, I'm not in competition for you." "Wha....What are you talking about? I never told her anything about you. I only found out your name today." "Well, someone did." "When did you talk to her?" She told him about the encounter in the coffee shop. "As for why I choose married men, I neither want nor expect them to leave their wives. That way, I'm never disappointed and don't try to tell me being married is more secure. More than half end in divorce. Even those that don't may not necessarily have a good relationship. You don't have to be married or even in love to enjoy the sex though." "But you do have to be in love to enjoy love and I still believe that's what you're afraid of." "Maybe but, it still wouldn't work for us. You're married and she seems determined not to let you go. So, if you go back to her, I lose. If you divorce you're going to be on the rebound and I don't want you to turn to me just because I'm convenient!" "You don't get it, do you?" I love you right now!." he said, standing so fast he knocked the chair over. "That only complicates matters." "How? I'm never going back to Sharon and we're already seeing each other. All we have to do is change the rules. We can start by going to each others homes instead of an anonymous hotel room, by bringing in some of ourselves and leaving a little behind. Heather, there's so much I want to know about you." "I need to sit down." she said. "Are you alright?" "Of course, I'm just tired." she snapped. She reached into the little fridge that supported the right side of her dressing table and got a bottle of water. "OK, I'm taking you home. We can talk more after you've rested." She could only nod in agreement. This night had been exhausting both physically and emotionally. Heather's Apartment Walter sat her down in the living room while he ran a bath. "Do you have oil or something soothing to add?" he asked, emerging from the bathroom. "On the ledge is a jar of salts.Pour in a couple of scoops, please." He did while she took off her coat and knee-high boots. She rubbed her feet and legs thinking at thirty two, she was already over the hill as a dancer, even for a few hours a night. It was a good thing she would graduate in June. She wasn't sure how much longer her pins would hold out. "It's ready." he said. She got up and came in. He helped her undress and step into the tub. "Ahhhh." she sighed as she sank in. There was a small stool next to it, probably to keep essentials close at hand. He sat down on it and let his hand drift in the hot water. "Better?" he asked softly. "Mmmm, I can't even tell you how much." she said, her eyes closed as she leaned back on the inflated pillow. "Why was tonight so much harder?" She gave a little chuckle. "Cramps." "Oh." Silence, then. "How'd you come up with your stage name?" he asked, pushing a lock of damp hair from her forehead. "Morela is Portuguese for brunette and Lee is Chinese for poet. Obviously I'm brunette and I filled stacks of journals with poems and limericks when I was a teenager." "Let's hear a limerick." "Oh, you wouldn't like them...they're clean." "You mean they don't start with 'there once was a girl from Nantucket'?" "No. For those you have to go to Playboy Party Jokes." "Aw c'mon, humor me with just one." "I can't remember any off hand." " OK. Need some more hot water?" "No, I should get out soon anyway." She rubbed her legs and arms under the water. "Thank you for doing this." she purred. "What, running a tub of water?" "You know what I mean." She stood and he had her robe waiting for her to slip into. "Are you staying the night?" "Are you asking?" "Yes, I'd like you to." He undressed while she finished drying off. She went to the dresser for a nightgown. He stopped her. "Why don't you just sleep in your skin?" "I really don't feel up to making love." she said sadly. "That isn't why I asked. Tell me where it hurts." She laid down on her back and indicated her lower abdomen. He got in beside her and massaged the area with soft circles. His hand was large and warm and soothing. His touch and the hot bath were working wonders on her body. "How about your back?" he whispered. "It's sore." "Roll over." "It's just below the waistline." she said but, he'd found the spot before she finished telling him which made her wonder if he had done this for his wife and she was surprised by the twinge of jealousy she felt. That had never happened before. "Oh, that feels so good." she sighed. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I love doing things for you. I'm glad you're finally letting me." "It's nice to be taken care of." "I want to do so much more." She turned over right into his waiting arms. "Tell me about dancing." he said. "I started training at age five. I was working in theater productions and getting tutored by age seven. It requires a lifetime of training, discipline and determination. I traveled with different troupes till I was thirteen. Then I went to the School for The Performing Arts in New York City. At age twenty five, I was an eighteen year veteran, which meant it was almost over and I had to decide what I could do as a second career. I had always loved reading. When you travel, you can't get hooked on TV shows or have a favorite radio station but, I always brought books to read for pleasure in addition to the my text books. So I enrolled at Georgetown, majoring in literature. I got my B.A. in four years. It's taking longer for the MLS because I'm doing it part time but, I graduate next June. Once I do, I'm quitting the club." "How long have you been there?" "Almost three years. I did my last musical when I was thirty and it almost did me in. Dancing at the club is a lot less demanding but, even that's getting to be too much. One of my first teachers said a dancer's body is used to interpret the movement of the music and must be in perfect condition to do it well. Just as a musical instrument must be in perfect tune to play the composition to its best advantage." She smiled and stroked his face. "Now you know more about me than I've ever told any man." "Then would you mind answering a question?" "What?" "Who was the man you were coming out of Hillman Hall with today?" "A classmate. His name is James." "Just an classmate?" "Oh Walter please, I can't deal with jealousy." she said, pushing the memory of her own bout with the green-eyed monster to the back of her mind. "You didn't answer....." "No I didn't but, you know I see other men." "I'd like that to stop." "There's something you have to understand up front. I'm my own person. I'll keep my male friends but, drop the others." "I can live with that." he said. "Good. Now I'd like to know about you." "Where shall I start?" "Anywhere you like." He told her about growing up in Texas, his time in the Marines, finishing his education at William and Mary College on the GI bill, majoring in criminology and being recruited by the bureau in his senior year. "When did you meet your wife?" "At school. Looking back I think she figured out my weakness and took advantage of it." "What weakness is that?" "I was different from other freshmen. I was older and more serious after my experiences in Vietnam. I graduated with top grades but I had to work for them. I was an outsider with a tremendous desire to fit in. She made me part of a couple and I finally felt like I belonged." "When did it go wrong?" He was slightly taken aback. "We're finding out about each other, aren't we?" she asked at his hesitancy. "Yes we are. I just want you to understand it's painful to talk about." She shifted position so he could rest his head against her breast. "When we tried to start a family. Sex became a chore for her. About the same time, work became more demanding. When she didn't conceive, we went to family planning. It all came to a head the night we were to go to the clinic for results of the tests we'd both taken. I missed it. She was alone when she found out she couldn't get pregnant." "Sounds like that hit you hard." "It did. I love children. I don't want to give up hope of having a family one day." She really didn't know how to respond to that so, she stroked his head. His hairline ended at the apex of his skull and she ran her fingers through the slightly curly black hair till she heard his soft even breathing, telling her he was asleep. On December 15th, Skinner received notice from Sharon's lawyer. She was charging him with adultery. He met with them, bringing his own attorney and a writ to counter sue. "On what charge?" Sharon asked, outraged at this turn of events. "Denial of marital rights. You put me out of our bedroom which played a significant role in my subsequent actions." "Are you saying you committed adultery because my client put you out of your shared bedroom?" "I'm saying it's highly unlikely I would have if she hadn't." Then he addressed Sharon directly. "I gave you the chance to let me stay in the house as your husband...not as a guest. You refused. So now, all bets are off." When the meeting ended Sharon surprised him by coming up to him in the hall outside the office. "I know it's over between us but, there are still things that need to be said and I didn't want to get into it in front of the lawyers. Would you meet me at this address? I'll let you know when I get an appointment." She said, handing him a card. He looked at it. "A sex therapist?" "Yes, I think we should end it with a better understanding of each other....and ourselves. Please Walter, do this one last thing for me." "Alright." he said, pocketing it. The Office of Dr. Miriam Pendleton After taking down basic information about both of them, the doctor interviewed them separately, then together. Since Sharon had made the appointment and was the "accuser", she talked to her first. She asked about how they met. "At school." "Who spoke to whom?" "I talked to him first." "Why?" "He was so quiet, almost shy, I didn't think he'd approach me so, I talked to him one day. You know, just casual conversation while we were in line to get our mail at the student union. Then a few days later I spotted him eating alone in the cafeteria and asked if I could join him. We got acquainted and from there, and started seeing each." "When did it become sexual?" "Over the Christmas Holiday. I invited him to my parent's weekend home, except they weren't there." she said with an impish smile. "Did he think he was going there to meet them?" "I may have intimated as much." "So, what happened?" "The first time was a little tentative and awkward but, I discovered giving Walter's sexuality free reign was like opening Pandora's Box." "How so?" "He wanted to try it different ways, in different places at different times. It seemed like wanted to do it every way but normal." "Normal?" "You know, man on top." "You said at different times and places." "Yes, in the daytime in other rooms of the house." "Outside the bedroom?" "Yes." Sharon said, blushing crimson by this time. "Why do you regard that as not normal?" "Because it is." she replied as if this sex therapist should know better. Miriam made a mental note to recommend further therapy for her. They talked about the marriage and the attempts to become pregnant, before and how she found out and the blow-up that finally ended it. Next she spoke with Walter, asking him basically the same questions. "I was getting my mail one day and there she was. She was attractive in that artsy student sort of way. You know, big glasses, low ponytail, black turtleneck. I saw her again a few days later in the cafeteria. She asked if she could share my table because it was crowded but I looked around. There were plenty of open spots." "Sharon described you as more serious than other freshmen." "The few classmates I spoke to seemed more interested in getting blasted on beer and protesting a war I had already fought in. So yeah, I guess I came off differently by comparison." "Tell me about the Christmas Holiday." "That was really confusing. I thought we were spending the holidays with her folks. So naturally that meant separate bedrooms. We hadn't become intimate yet but once we got there, Sharon made it clear she wanted to. I thought 'Great'. We have the place to ourselves and the freedom to do whatever we want without any restrictions. But she wanted to keep it to vanilla sex." "Excuse me?" "Ordinary, mission position in the dark behind closed doors sex. I thought that was OK the first time but we should find out more about each others preferences. I found out that was it for her." "And yet you still proposed marriage." "No, actually I didn't. We saw each other throughout the next four years. We broke up a couple of times but she seemed really amiable to getting back together as it got closer to graduation. By this time, I'd been recruited by the bureau. They did stress however that a four year degree was a minimum requirement and that I should pursue a master's if I wanted a better chance of getting in. I would discover later when I applied that there were guys there with post doctoral degrees. While Sharon was ready to talk marriage, I was still looking at two more years of school and to me, that made it out of the question. By the time I graduated, she was chomping at the bit to get married. I told her not to make any plans till I found out the results of my interview. I was accepted but that meant another sixteen weeks of training at Quantico. I don't know if you realize the intensity of those four months but, it was one of the most difficult times of my life. We rarely had a free moment and Sharon would get angry, not only because we were apart but because I couldn't talk on the phone with her for hours on end like she seemed to want to. She went ahead and made plans for our wedding which took place two months after graduation." "Tell me about married life." "The reason we'd broken up at school centered around sex. She hadn't changed her mind about her preferences and it didn't seem to matter what I wanted. That changed to a degree when we were newlyweds. She did try new things, positions, times of day. But the biggest bone of contention between us was oral sex. She didn't even want to hear about it much less try it. It took several years of married life to convince her to let me perform it on her." "Did she ever return the favor?" "Eventually but, I could tell she didn't really want to." "Who decided to have a family?" "We both did. I wanted children as soon as my career was established and Sharon could take as much time as she wanted to stay home. I didn't want her to feel she had to hurry back to work because of money. Soon it became all important to her and she had her charts and took her temperature to determine when she was ovulating which tended to take the spontaneity out of it. Then it became the only time we could have sex. I say that very pointedly because it was no longer making love. It was mechanical. No matter how I tried to tell her she was adding undue pressure to the situation by limiting how often we could do it, she'd accuse me of just wanting more sex. Well, I'm her husband, so what the hell's wrong with that? When we were newlyweds, we used to have the best conversations after making love. We talked about our plans and dreams for the future. That ended when we tried to conceive." "How so?" "Sharon never really cared for the "messy aftermath" as she called it, and would jump out of bed to the bathroom as soon as we were done. By the time she got back, the mood was gone." Miriam silently agreed with him. The few minutes of post- coital bliss created an open atmosphere. Endorphins released during orgasm, put one in a most relaxed and receptive state. "I loved every part of sex from the first kiss to lying together afterward. What finished it for me was Sharon made me feel like I was just a necessary means to achieve an end." "She said you missed a critical appointment." "I did and I felt awful about it. Work had been heating up for months, meaning a lot of overtime. My partner and I were on an important case. One assigned to us by the director himself. I'd been on the fast track to a promotion and I didn't want to blow it. As for the appointment, I honestly forgot the date." Then she spoke to them together. "I'm not going to go into all the "he said, she said" accusations. But if you were staying together, I'd recommend marriage counseling. All I can say for you two now is. Walter, I think you need to improve your communication skills within a relationship. Sharon, I'd like to see you for further exploration into your attitude toward intimacy." As they walked out together, he asked if she was going to go. "I don't know. Maybe I should." They rode down in the elevator and were about to part company in the lobby when she took his hand. "I tried to make you something you aren't. I'm sorry for that." "I may have done the same with you. In the end though you have to be true to your own nature." "I hope the doctor can help me find out why mine is the way it is, then maybe I can change." "Good luck with it." he said leaning down to kiss her cheek. "Be happy Walter, you deserve it." she said returning his kiss. A few weeks later a judge granted the divorce. Somewhere in Mexico Doug Lawford sat at the counter in the little cantina that also served as the town's post office. He had just emptied his P.O. box. In it was a letter that had been mailed through a mailing service to his alias, Paul Harmon. The note was from a longtime friend of his mother's telling him she was seriously ill, pleading with him to come back if he could. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, wondering if he should risk it. Mom had given him safe passage out of the country by lending him a car that was registered to her in the name of her last husband, the one after Gregory Lawford, his father. And before her current spouse. Her reasoning being that they'd have no way to connect him to her and the vehicle and it seemed to have worked. Re-entering the U.S. was dicey though. They would still be looking for him since there was no statute of limitations on murder. He didn't want to interrupt his work but most of all, he didn't want to leave his lover. He had discovered he was bi-sexual when he was a teenager but, had only briefly experimented with same sex relationships. That was mostly in college. But, he'd found true happiness here in this out of the way place with Diego. Still, he owed his mother a great debt of gratitude. Not only had she aided his escape but was one of the few people in his old life who knew and accepted his sexual orientation. He talked it over with his lover who, even though he'd miss him, encouraged him to return. "You must go to your Madre, she is the one who gave you life." ***** It was a new year, a new decade and Walter was a free man. He moved from the hotel to a condo at Viva Towers in Crystal City Virginia. He and his partner had solved several cases since the one that introduced him to Heather but, that one was still outstanding. Until one day when they got that break he had talked about on their first date. The border patrol had been given the information on Douglas Lawford. An alert guard recognized him coming in from Mexico and held him till he could get in touch with the FBI. Skinner and D'Amato were on the next flight. In their interrogation, they found out how he got out of the country and why he had returned. He also told them he took his research notes to set up a lab in Mexico where the laws were less stringent. "Did you plan to send for Nina Simmons once you were settled?" Dom asked. A strange look came across the suspects face. "No. What are you talking about?" "She was the intended victim, wasn't she?" He didn't respond. "Her husband ate the soup, he's dead. Mrs.Simmons is still alive." Skinner said. "Stand up Mr. Lawford. I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of Conrad Simmons." Dom said as he placed the cuffs on him. They escorted him back to DC. He was arraigned the next day, the judge denied bail based on his flight risk. Diego would never see him again. November 1995,Five Years Later.... Fox Mulder browsed the Georgetown University Library looking for material that would help him with his current case. He finally decided he needed assistance and went to the reference desk. As he approached, the librarian was concentrating on her work. He noticed her dark hair was pulled back into a barrette and she wore glasses. He glanced at the name plate and chuckled to himself, or maybe not because she raised her head to ask if she could help him. He had to swallow to wet his suddenly dry throat. She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. And the fact that she wore glasses didn't deter from her looks one bit. Like Scully, whom he also regarded as a great beauty, the glasses only enhanced her appeal. Even though he teased her about her "specs", he preferred her in her little oval wire rims. "Um... I'm looking for information regarding aberrant behavior in serial killers that target a specific type of victim." "Serial killers generally target a certain type of victim. Could you be more specific?" "Sociopaths that target overweight women. Also those who use the Internet to make contact." Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she sought what he was looking for.He wondered how she knew about the nature of serial killers. Was it an interest of hers? If so, he'd rather use her as a source that any book. She stopped then and pressed the print key. A narrow list, like a register receipt printed out of a small box on the desk. "These five books should be helpful." she said, tearing the strip off and handing it to him. "They're located on the third floor, fourth row and follow the numbers." "Thank you." "Before you go, May I ask you a question?" she said. His heart leapt with hope. He nodded. "What did you find so amusing about my name?" "Excuse me?" "You gave a little snicker when you saw my nameplate. Why?" "Because I know someone named Skinner. At first I thought you might be related but, I don't think so." "You're right, Skinner's my husband's name." "Oh. Well, thanks again." he said trying not to show his disappointment, and headed for the stairs. Alexandria Virginia That Night It was Thursday, one of the two nights Heather had to work evenings and didn't get off till nine o'clock. She pressed the button for the garage door as she pulled into the driveway. Walter's car was in its space. 'Good.' she thought. 'He's already home.' The Lawford case had earned him the promotion to Assistant Director but made his hours all the more erratic. Thank goodness their babysitter, Sophie was flexible. She closed the door, went into the kitchen up the back stairs to the nursery. Six month old Tasha was asleep in her ivory crib. She gently lowered the side and bent to kiss her forehead, then raised it again. Walter's grandmother was named Natasha, his sister was given the Americanized version of Natalie. They chose the "nickname" of Tasha. And her mother's for her middle name, Brianne. She turned on silent heels and headed for the door but checked first to make sure the baby monitor was on, then slipped out. Walter was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. "I thought I heard the pitter-patter of little feet." he said smiling up at her. "Did you think Tash was wandering around?" she teased. "Cause you couldn't have meant mine. I wear size nine." "Well, They're very pretty size nines. C'mon I made dinner." he said putting an arm around her and leading her to the dining room. "What time did you get home?" "Around seven." "Would have to be on a night I had to work late." "S'ok, it gave me time to make stew." "Beef stew?" she beamed at the thought of his mouth- watering recipe. "Just for you." "You spoil me horrendously." "That's cause I love you ridiculously." he said and punctuated it with a kiss. He ladled a bowlful for her while she poured the wine he had decanted earlier into balloon glasses. "So, anything interesting happen at the bastion of higher learning?" "Yes. As a matter of fact, a patron came to ask about reference material and said he knew someone named Skinner. I think it might have been a come on till I told him it was my husband's name." "You get hit on a lot?" "Not very often. Anything new at the bureau?" "Yes. I got the notice today that we're having a real Christmas party instead of the usual dreary office soiree. The director's giving a dinner dance at The Hay-Adams." "How come?" "He's happy. He's streamlined the system down from ten departments to four." "You still have a job?" she asked glibly. "Oh yeah. As a matter of fact I have over four hundred agents in my command now." "Impressive." "Eh, it just means more paperwork." "Are we going?" "Sure, why not?" "Do you know which room the bash is being held in?" "The Lafayette Room." "Hmmm, I think that calls for a new outfit." "You'll use any excuse." he chuckled. "Walter, you've never wanted to go to any of the functions at work. Now that we are, I'd like to make a good impression." "Sweetheart, you'd do that no matter what you wore." "That's so nice of you to say...but I'm still getting new duds." "Of course you are. I wouldn't have it any other way." he said and the subject was changed and they just had "dinner conversation" as they ate then retired a short while later. They lay in bed, cuddling and talking. "I was thinking an even half dozen." Walter said with a sly glance. "You want five more babies?" she asked with raised brow. "Why, not enough?" "You're crazy g-man. I just weened her off of nursing and got her on solid food. Our little darling has very sharp teeth, so I figured it was time." "Tash is such a wonder and she's only our first attempt. Imagine what the sixth one would be like." "Not one wit better." "You're probably right. We couldn't improve on her. Shouldn't stop us from trying though, what do you think?" "I think you're just horny." She grinned and pulled him to her." But that's OK, so am I." She loved the physical aspect of their relationship and was willing to try just about anything he could suggest along with a few ideas of her own. He had wanted to marry her shortly after his divorce was final but she held him off for two years, first to be sure he wasn't rebounding Second, she was graduating in June 1990 and wanted to get her career established before before tackling a husband/home/family. Third, she wanted them to go together to be tested for fertility. She was sweet about it but, made it clear they would discuss the issues important in any marriage and he came to respect her tenacity, even if he wanted to throttle her for it at times. Now he was glad she had slowed the pace. This way, they had the time to really know each other, to find out what they agreed upon and how to compromise on the things they didn't. He had thought all that would've been the death of romance but nothing was further from the truth. They'd been married for three and a half years and the passion had deepened with their love. Heather made him feel desired, cared for and needed. They both had input on the the design of this house. Now it was there haven from the outside world, made complete by birth of their daughter. All these thoughts sparked through his brain in seconds while he kissed his way from her earlobe to her neck and collarbone. He surprised her then by rolling over and taking her with so that she was on top. She reacted with a soft purr. This was a starting point for several favored positions. For the moment, she straddled him and bent over so her breasts brushed lightly against the hair on his chest, sending tingles through him. Lowering herself further pressed their bodies together. A deep moan emitted from his throat as their lips met. She slithered down his torso and latched onto a small brown nipple, sucking and nipping. She stroked down his body as far as she could reach. Starting at the sides of his ribs and sliding down to his slim waist and narrow hips to the contour of his muscular thighs. She had learned that each part of his "package" had its own level of sensitivity. The head was the nerve center and very sensitive. She found the most responsive part to be on the underside where the shaft joined the head. She flicked it lightly with the tip of her tongue. The shaft could and should take rougher treatment. She grasped it and pumped fairly hard. She knew she was doing it right when she felt it stiffen in her hand. The balls with their paper-thin covering of skin were the tenderest part and were treated accordingly. "Turn around." he rasped. She got into position facing his feet and lowered herself down onto his erection. She balanced on her knees, giving him room to pump his hips. Once he got into a rhythm, she rubbed her hands together to warm them and cupped his 'boys' in her palms, so they wouldn't be left out in the cold while he was inside her. The effect worked. She could feel him thrusting faster, the friction making her come just before his orgasm took him on a wave of pleasure. Afterward, she leaned forward so she was stretched out over him. Once he softened and slipped out, he turned her around and positioned her at his side. "So good." he sighed, unable to articulate much more while he caught his breath. She snuggled against him. "I was kidding before." he began. " I never realized the toll pregnancy takes on a woman's body and the recovery necessary to get back to normal. I don't even want to consider it for a while but I'd like one more child. What do you think?" "I think I'll let you know in a while." she whispered. He could hear the smile in her voice, gently teasing him. "I'm serious Darling." "I know. I don't think I'm ready to consider it just yet." "S'ok. I just wanted you to know my thoughts on the matter." All he heard was her soft breathing. She was asleep. Saturday December 14th 1995 Lafayette Room, Hay- Adams Hotel Walter checked their coats, picked up their table number and walked into the elegant ballroom. The reception line was the the right and consisted of the director, the deputy director and their wives. He introduced Heather as they went down the line. Several people from work had already arrived. Kim was there with her husband, Danny Pendrell and Holly and her date. Mulder and Scully had come together and were at the bar. They didn't see their boss till he and Heather came over for Champagne. Neither of them knew Skinner was married, even though he wore his ring. It was a braided Celtic style and didn't necessarily look like a wedding band. Mulder saw them coming and nudged Scully. The agent wore an ice blue halter style gown. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she wore large aquamarine chandelier earrings. Mulder had on the traditional black tux as did Walter but, he chose a vest instead of a cummerbund. Heather wore a gold sweater dress that criss-crossed and tied to the left. It was knit, shot through with golden lurex threads. To showcase the gown which outlined her body, she kept the accessories to a minimum. She wore gold leather Maryjanes for dancing, and a single gold bar on a chain. Since her hair was down, she skipped earrings. Scully raised a brow. "I didn't know he was seeing anyone." she said. "I guess there's a lot we don't know about the man we work for." "Agents." he said. "This is my wife, Heather. Darling, I'd like you to meet Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They run the X-Files." "X-Files?" "We investigate cases that fall outside the normal parameters." Scully informed her. "Like the aberrant behavior of serial killers?" she asked, looking directly at Mulder. The woman had looked familiar, now Fox remembered the name on her desk plate. The librarian was Skinner's wife! "Yes, we've had cases like that." Scully said, a bit baffled. "Well, this is a party, let's not talk business. How about some drinks?" Mulder suggested. "You wanted Champagne right?" Skinner turned to ask Heather. Tall flutes were passed around and they drank a toast to the new structure and to the holidays. Just then the bartender leaned over and told them dinner was about to be served and the bar would be closed for the duration. Walter took the table card. "Catch up with you later." he said, leading Heather away. Mulder checked theirs. They were seated with Holly and her date, Kim and her husband and Danny Pendrell, who was there solo. The Skinners were with the group from the reception line, though he was sure they would have more fun at the table with his agents. They settled in their seats and he waited to see how long it would be before these Washingtonian wives started in on Heather. He didn't have to wait long. "Tell me my dear, do you work?" the director's wife began. "Yes, at the Georgetown U library." "Oh, what do you do?" the other chimed in. "I'm a reference librarian." "Really?" the first replied. "That must be a very interesting job. Tell us what it entails." the director cut in. "Well, in addition to helping patrons find reference material, the six RLs form a committee to develop programs for the Library's calender of events. Each month celebrates a special event, group or holiday." "That sounds like fun." he said. "It can be. But it's nice just to be on the desk. I get to meet so many people." "Who determines what books are added to the collection?" the deputy director spoke for the first time. "The director, and the head of cataloging mainly but, the RLs are often asked for input based on the types of requests we receive." The wait staff began serving the first course then and conversation turned to the subject of food. Once the meal was finished, the orchestra started up. It was tradition to have the first dance with the person you came with but, after that it was anything goes. The band leader was smart enough to make that first number an easy one to get people out onto the floor. When making the play list the director, who was a fan of the 40's, asked for some tunes of that decade. The band leader suggested they be put into a medley. Now he watched the dancers with the skills learned from years in the bureau and decided who he wanted as his partner for it. He spoke with the band leader, then approached Heather who was currently on the floor with the deputy director. "May I cut in?" he asked, knowing the answer would be in the affirmative. "Of course, Sir." The orchestra struck up In the Mood which segued into Caravan and Sing Sing Sing. Heather knew all the dances from the swing era and executed them perfectly, much her partner's delight. Other dancers moved back a bit to give them room and to observe the man many of them worked for in a new light. When it was over, Skinner came over to claim his wife for a dance before the next number began. It was Moonlight Serenade which they floated through then returned to the table for dessert and coffee. The director held sway, talking about his favorite era. "How is it you know the dances so well?" he asked Heather. "I used to dance with my father. He loved the music and collected as many recordings and other memorabilia of the time as he could." Soon everyone was back on the floor. After a couple of numbers, Mulder made his way over to Heather and asked for the next dance. She came into his arms asking. "Read any good books lately?" Which cracked him up. Scully had been watching and was surprised because he laughed like that so rarely and thought. 'I've known him for years and I can't make him do that, how can she?' Meanwhile, it was Mulder's turn to ask some questions. "How did you and Skinner meet?" "In the course of a case he was investigating. He was an agent then." "How so?" "I was a murder suspect." He chuckled again. "You're kidding. How'd you make the leap to assistant director's wife?" It was her turn to laugh. "I don't think he'd want that known." "Oh, you can't just leave it at that." "Sure I can." she said and left as the song ended. She went to the lobby and called to check in with Sophie, who told her Tasha had been a little fussy earlier but was asleep now. She thanked her and went back to the ballroom to find her husband in a conversation that included Scully and Kim. "Hi." she said brightly addressing the group. Then turned to him. "I just spoke with Sophie." "Everything OK?" She nodded in a way that didn't quite convince him. He excused them and took her by the arm. When they were out of earshot, he asked again. "Nothing, she was fussy but, Sophie said she's sleeping now. I'm a little tired. I haven't danced this much in a long time. Do you mind if we leave soon?" "Understandable, you've really been the bell of the ball tonight." he teased. "Let's say our good nights and get out of here." Despite the late hour, they dressed for bed, him in sweats and a T-shirt, her in a long sleeve nightgown and cuddled till they fell asleep. ***** They celebrated the holidays at home. Even though little Tasha was too young to know what was going on, she did sense this was a special time. In addition to a ton of toys, Walter had bought an antique carousel horse. "She's way too young to even understand what that's for" Heather told him. "The nursery has that big bay window in it and one of my New Year's resolutions is to build her a window seat. I figured I can make a deep sill to mount the horse on and still have plenty of room for a padded bench with storage underneath." "That's very ambitious." "Well, I was hoping you'd help me with the padded seat part." "I think I can manage that." He opened another gift he had bought for his daughter. It was a musical carousel. "This will help her understand what the horse is for." "And to sleep at night." she added. "I thought when she was a little older, we'd take her to Disney World so she can ride one and see for herself how much fun it is." "You're a real pushover, you know that?" Heather said coming over to sit on his lap. "Always been a sucker for a pretty face." "I thought you fell for my legs." "In your case, they were the first part of you I saw." ***** The new year at work started out uneventfully. Then one day in early February, Walter got a call on his private home line and debated about whether or not to call Scully. He had been informed that the case of Melissa Scully's death was no longer going to be active. They had no new leads and they needed their manpower elsewhere. He was angered because it seemed they had enough to work with and made a vow to go over all the evidence again just to make nothing was overlooked. The hard part was telling his agent the following morning. She had the anticipated reaction and left his office in a huff. Later while having lunch at his favorite coffee shop, three men surrounded him and warned him off pursuing the case. He ignored them and returned to work. The next day was hectic as he tried to empty his IN box while saving some time to look over Melissa's file. Then Kim buzzed to remind him of the AD's meeting in twenty minutes. 'Ah, hell. I'm not going to get to it all without staying late.' he thought as he dialed Heather's number on his private line. "I'm sorry Sweetheart. You know I don't like to do this unless I absolutely have to but, I need to stay late tonight." "Alright, just promise me you'll get some dinner." "I'll grab a sandwich." "Walter, I know Kim leaves at six and she'll get you one if she knows you're staying. If you haven't eaten by then please promise you'll get out of the office for a while and get a real meal." "OK, I promise." he chuckled and ended the call. 8:00 P.M. Walter had finished dinner and was reading the paper when a man came from the back and began complaining to the waitress about the phone being out of order. He couldn't help but hear him badger the poor girl and when he'd had enough, decided to step in. He got a bullet in the gut for his gallantry. The waitress quickly called 911 which set off a chain reaction. When paramedics ID'd him as a fed, they called the Hoover building operator, who called Kim, who notified Heather at home and caught Scully just as she was walking into her apartment. She got to the hospital first since Heather was farther and couldn't get in touch with her sitter, so she had to pack up eight month old Tasha, load her into the car and drive in from Alexandria. Scully caught up with him as he was coming out of surgery. He told her he'd seen the shooter before. He was wheeled into the elevator and she went to talk to the agents who had been assigned the case. Shortly thereafter, Heather came through the doors and hurried to the nurse's station. Scully saw her and came over to tell her which room he was in and how he'd come through the surgery. She watched as Heather removed the hooded jacket the tot wore and saw a little female version of her boss. Black curls framed her cherubic face. Her eyes were dark, almond shaped and thickly lashed. A tiny cleft split her chin. "This is Tasha." she said, noticing the agent staring, obviously she didn't know they had a child. "She's beautiful. Would you like me to take her while you go in? I'm a medical doctor." she added quickly. "Oh thank you, that would be great." she said, handing her and her diaper bag over. "That should be everything you need." she said and hurried to her husband's room. He looked like he was sleeping so she just stood next to the bed. When he opened his eyes he could tell by her expression what she was thinking. "You can't blame yourself for this." he whispered. "But I told you to go out to eat." she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Darling, you don't know how these people work. If it wasn't there, it would've been somewhere else like the garage at work. At least this way, people were around. I got help right away and the waitress was able to give police information about the shooter." "How do you feel?" "I told Scully it was like someone redecorating inside my stomach." he said with a weak smile. "Speaking of Scully, she's watching Tasha. I had to bring her cause Sophie couldn't come back tonight. Would you like to see her?" "Of course." She found the agent sitting on a bench in the hallway, holding her daughter. She reached for her and Tasha held her arms out. "I'm going to take her in for a moment." she said. Scully watched with a mix of sadness and envy. She had so few opportunities to hold a child and the little bundle had that smell of innocence on her, a pure clean smell that faded as they grew. She smiled brightly at the sight of her father. He couldn't reach for her or turn so Heather laid her on his shoulder. He brought his other hand up to stroke her back. A moment later he nodded for Heather to take her. "I should get her to bed and you should rest." she said, leaning down to kiss him. "I'll be back tomorrow when I can stay a little longer." That night sleep eluded Heather. As she stared at the ceiling, she thought about how fragile life was and how grateful she was Walter's had been spared....this time. As the hours rolled toward dawn, she thought about how she had paced their relationship. How she had been the one who put off marriage. She'd delayed starting the family he wanted so much, yet he had always given in to her wishes. Her New Year's resolution had been to change that. She took her last birth control pill on January 3rd and had her period as usual but, decided not to go on to the next pack. She'd planned to tell him they could start "practicing" to get pregnant any time he wanted. She took the next day off but, still had Sophie watch Tasha so she could spend as much time with Walter as hospital policy would allow. She put on a pretty dress and took extra care with her makeup after crying the night before and drove to Georgetown Medical Center. She greeted him with a smile. She thought she had no more tears after last night but, they flowed the moment they embraced. "No Sweetheart, don't cry. It's not that bad." he tried to assure her. She pulled back, shaking her head. "I've taken you for granted." He pulled her back to him. "I've never felt that from you." "It shouldn't have taken this to make me realize it but things are going to change." she persisted." I want to start on a second baby as soon as we're both ready." "Wonderful." They spent the rest of her visit kissing and cuddling until a nurse came in to change his dressings. He was released two days later but, instead of going home, he called Kim and asked her to bring a change of clothes from the armoire in his office. He changed in the bathroom and then came out and asked if he could ride back with her to work. "Of course Sir." she answered, baffled. He took the elevator down to the basement, instead going to his office. Mulder answered his knock and came around the desk to help Skinner, who was limping with the aid of a cane, to a chair. He thanked him for putting himself at risk. Not one to accept accolades, Skinner pointed out he was just doing his job and that he had information for Scully regarding her sister's case. Cardinale, the man who shot both him and Melissa was found dead in his jail cell and if those responsible haven't killed Krycek, they would soon. Mulder found Scully at the cemetery and tells her the news. Walter steeled himself. He had news he found difficult to accept and was certain his wife wouldn't be happy about it either, especially in light of their last conversation. He took a cab home. Heather met him at the front door. "I went to the hospital this afternoon. They said you were released." "We have to talk. I think you'd better sit down." "What's the matter?" she asked apprehensively. "Removing the bullet nicked the bladder and damaged the seminal vesicle which could affect sperm development." "Did the doctor say what the chances were?" "No. I'll have to go in for a follow up exam. He'll know better then." "Does it affect your health in any other way?" she asked calmly. "Not that I know of but, it may mean we can't have any more children." he said. "Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about today." She came over and sat next to him. "I went off the pill right after New Year's thinking I'd give my body a break from it before we tried to conceive. Then I made an appointment with my doctor to make sure I was in good health, for the same reason. I was examined this morning." "And?" he asked. "And I'm pregnant." He remembered when they tried the first time. Heather had only been off the pill two months when she conceived. He pulled her to him and held her close. The floodgates opened and all the turmoil he'd felt was released in tears. "You can't imagine how much I dreaded having to tell you we might not be able have another child. I'm so relieved." he paused, then asked about the due date. "Mid October. My doctor wants me in for an ultrasound next week, wanna come?" "I wouldn't miss it for the world." March 9th Dr. Hamlin's Office Heather was propped up on the exam table. The doctor applied gel and the apparatus to her stomach. They could instantly hear a rapid heartbeat. Dr. Hamlin leaned over and frowned. "What's wrong?" Walter asked, trying not to panic. She moved the apparatus slightly and the beat changed. "What is it?" Heather asked. "A second heartbeat." she checked the monitor to confirm her suspicions. "You're carrying twins Mrs. Skinner." she said with a broad smile. Walter suggested they take the rest of the day off to be together and they called their respective workplaces to let them know but instead of going to Alexandria, he headed out route 95. "Where are we going?" she asked. "Baltimore." "Why?" "I want to spend some time alone with you. I saw a place when I was there on an investigation that I thought I'd like to visit one day. I think this is that day. It's the Renaissance Harborside Hotel." He pulled over and called for a reservation. "Do you have a room with a harbor view?" "Great." he said then gave their name and credit card number. He ended the call by saying when they'd be there and pulled back into traffic. They hit the city limits and Walter left the highway. He found Pratt Street and followed it to the hotel. Once they were checked in and up in their room, Heather went out to the balcony to look at the harbor. The place was aptly named, she thought. The view was spectacular. "It's a little chilly don't you think?" he asked from the doorway. At fifty degrees, it really wasn't bad but, she suspected he wanted her inside and all to himself. "Just wanted a look at the harbor." she said and walked in. He turned her around and wrapped her in an embrace, his lips closed over hers in a passionate kiss. She wore a sweater style dress which he lifted over her head, leaving her in a full length slip. He guided her to the bed and lay down beside her. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he whispered. "Yes but, I never get tired of hearing it." "I love you so very much." he whispered. He went through a laundry list of her attributes ending with the fact that she was willing to expand their family for him perhaps sooner than she might have otherwise. "Shall I tell you what I love about you?" she asked but didn't wait for a reply. "I love your tenderness and your strength. Your courage and generosity. Your intelligence and wit. But most of all, your capacity to love unconditionally. That's a rare gift and I'm fortunate enough to have one of the few who possess it." Heather was lying on her back. He couldn't lay completely on his side without pulling the sutures, so he rolled over just enough to face her and rest his hand on her abdomen. It felt warm and comforting. She didn't need words to tell her he was thinking about the two tiny lives growing inside her. They stayed that way till it was time to leave in order to get home at their regular hour. That Fall.... Nicholas and Andrew came into the world at just under five pounds each and were placed in incubators till they reached a satisfactory weight. Walter had become increasingly concerned as the months rolled by cause Heather had grown enormous. But was a little wary when Dr. Hamlin determined a Cesarean section would be safer for the boys than a vaginal delivery. She explained that the babies were too small to help themselves be born and laboring with twins could wear Heather out to the point where she might be too exhausted to aid in their birth. Now that it was over Walter sat at her bedside holding her hand, waiting for her to wake. She moaned and opened her eyes. "Hi. How do you feel?" he asked. "Could I have some water?" she croaked. "Oh, sure." he said, holding the cup and guiding the straw to her lips. She drank robustly. "I feel...deflated but, it's nice to drink without having to hurry to the bathroom. How are the boys?" "They're in incubators but doing well. No respiratory problems like the doctor thought possible." "Good." she smiled. They had made the larger of the two remaining bedrooms into a second nursery. Walter assembled the cribs and stored the clothing from her baby shower and what could be passed down from their big sister. But he had a surprise for her when he brought her and the twins home a week later. Sophie had Tasha waiting in the living room when they arrived. The seventeen month old ran to greet her mother. After much hugging and kissing, Walter knelt down to show his daughter her new brothers. They had talked to her about the new additions to their household and she seemed to accept it in theory. They would wait to see how it went in practice. Sophie took the infants and placed them in bassinets. Walter scooped his wife up in his arms and carried her upstairs. He set her down at the top, placed a hand over her eyes and led her down the hall. She heard a door open and a light being flipped on. "OK." he said removing his hand. They were in Tasha's room. The bay window on the opposite wall was fitted with a window seat, doors with cane insets that matched her furniture, hid storage beneath. The carousel horse was mounted in the center with a spotlight overhead, and the cushions she had made during the last two months while she was home on maternity leave were in place. "It turned out even better than I imagined." "I had to do something this past week or I would've gone crazy." "Well, whatever the reason, it's beautiful." Just then they heard a lusty cry. They looked at each other knowing they were at the beginning of a new phase in parenting. They went downstairs, hand-in-hand to see which of their offspring needed their attention. The End