Letter of the Law
Danville Universe - Post Take 2
Category: Discipline, no slash
Disclaimer: not mine, never will be, nobody pays me-I do it for the feedback!
Spoilers: small ones for "The Jersey Devil"
Feedback: carolinamoon66@hotmail.com
Author's notes: With all the discussion of Donnie Osmond and other secret vices from the seventies, I must confess to mine. I was a Brady Bunch addict, even though not one of those bratty goodie-two-shoes kids ever got spanked. The basic premise for this story came from one of their episodes, so if it sounds familiar, that's why.(And if you recognize it, bonus points for you!) And thanks, Red, for letting me play in your backyard again!
"Inside, Fox William," the AD barked from his position on the porch of the small house that both men now considered home. Mulder had barely exited his car, but he could hear the older man's anger clearly.
"But, sir! If you'd just let me explain!", Mulder begged, following the irate man into the house.
Skinner spun to face him, brown eyes flashing. "Explain? And how do you propose to do that? You deliberately disobeyed me, and now you have the audacity to tell me you have to 'explain'? What, are you going to tell me that you were abducted and spirited away to New Jersey? Or maybe that you were possessed, and not really in control of your actions?"
Mulder shifted uncomfortably, wishing the older man would calm down so he could gather his thoughts. "No, sir. But if you'd just listen to me for a minute, you'll see that I really didn't disobey you!"
This statement stopped the older man cold and he stared at Mulder incredulously. "Didn't disobey me? Was I in any way unclear when I told you that you were *not* to fly to New Jersey?"
"Well, no sir, but...."
"I didn't think so!," Skinner roared. He pointed sternly into the living room. "Get yourself over that sofa, Fox. You're getting the belt for this one, and you can just plan on a nice long punishment tour, too."
To his utter amazement, Mulder crossed his arms and refused to budge.
"No, sir, I won't. Not until you listen to me. You promised you'd always listen to me!"
Skinner took a deep breath, trying to calm his roiling emotions. Communication was one of the areas both men had agreed to work on where the other was concerned, and while the AD felt strongly that this was merely a stall tactic on the younger man's part, he couldn't just ignore the plaintive tone.
"All right, Fox. let's sit down and you can 'explain'. But, I'll warn you right now, it had better be good. Having Kim track me down at my brother's to tell me that the New Jersey police needed verification on your badge number was not a nice addition to my weekend." He sat down on one end of the sofa, and indicated that Mulder should take the chair opposite the coffee table. He realized that, subconsciously, he had duplicated many of the past scenarios in his office. He and Mulder, warily staring at each other from across an expanse of wood.
Mulder sat down, trying to look composed, though his twitching leg gave him away. Skinner shifted impatiently, waiting for him to start. "Well, Fox?", he finally prompted.
"I know when we spoke in the office on Friday, you told me not to fly to New Jersey, and I didn't," the younger man said softly.
Skinner stared at him, waiting for more. When no further explanation seemed forthcoming, he stood swiftly. "What do you mean, you didn't go to New Jersey? Are you telling me that there's *another* Fox Mulder at the bureau who was in New Jersey Saturday?"
Mulder shook his head quickly. "No, sir, that's not what I meant. I just meant that you said I couldn't fly to Atlantic City, and I didn't. I drove."
Skinner peered at Mulder over the top of his glasses, expecting to see some trace of amusement, however ill-advised, on the younger man's face. To his amazement, his young agent seemed deadly serious. "Let me get this straight, Mulder. You're saying you didn't disobey me because you *drove* to New Jersey instead of flying?"
"Yes, sir," Mulder said solemnly.
Skinner dropped back onto the sofa, astonished. "Are you telling me that you didn't understand that you were not to go to New Jersey at all?"
Mulder squirmed. "I didn't say that, sir. I just said that your exact words were I couldn't fly there, and I didn't. The gunmen and I drove there on Friday night."
Skinner sat back, mulling this over. Only Fox Mulder could come up with such convoluted logic. Another thought occurred to him, and he leaned forward. "What about you lying to me about your plans for the weekend?"
Mulder earnestly shook his head. "I didn't lie to you! You asked me what I was doing and I said I was going to hang out with the guys, and that's what I did! They were going to Atlantic City, and I went with them."
Skinner started to protest, and then stopped. Remembering back to the conversation, he realized that Mulder *had* said exactly that. No more, and no less. In hindsight, that fact alone should have raised his suspicions. Mulder wasn't that far removed from his teenage years, and he should have known to question the younger man more closely. "Be that as it may, I believe you know dam...darn well that you were not to go to New Jersey."
"But that's not what you said! You said, and I quote, 'You are not flying up there to check out another sighting of that wild woman, and that's final.'"
Skinner clenched his teeth, feeling the headache which had begun as soon as he had received Kim's phone call bump up another notch. "Mulder, you still have enemies in the police department from your visit there 4 years ago. I didn't want you stirring up any more trouble."
"I know, sir-you gave me your reasons when I asked you to sign the 302, and I'm not questioning them. But that doesn't change the fact that I did follow your instructions, and I didn't lie. I didn't fly to Atlantic City and I did spend the weekend with the gunmen. If you didn't want me to go at all, you should have been clearer." Mulder sat back on the sofa, seemingly satisfied that he had made an adequate case for himself.
The AD was overwhelmed with an urge to shake the younger man -or take him across his knee until his butt was flaming, but he carefully shelved that anger. He stared intently at his agent, debating what to do. He knew Fox was grasping at straws with his crazy explanation-it sounded like something he and his wacky friends had come up with on the ride home. But this might be a good opportunity to teach Mulder a lesson about the importance of saying what you mean.
Reaching a decision, he leaned forward. "All right, Fox. I'm fairly certain that you knew *exactly* what I meant when I told you not to go to New Jersey. But if you insist on holding me to my exact words, then I would have to agree that, technically, you didn't disobey me. But you do realize that, from this point on, I'll expect *you* to live by exact words also. I think you'll find it's not as easy as it might seem."
Mulder tried to keep a poker face, but inside, he was stunned that his ploy had worked. He had told Frohike repeatedly on the way home that the AD would never fall for such a pathetic excuse, and he couldn't believe his ears when the older man actually seemed to be buying it! He straightened up and tried to look serious. "Yes, sir. I understand completely. And I think this new policy will help to eliminate a lot of confusion," he said with his best sincere expression.
At the AD's sharp look, Mulder decided he'd better not push his luck. Skinner glanced pointedly at his watch. "It's getting late, Fox, and the Monday after a busy weekend always comes too early. I suggest you turn in now."
Mulder wanted to protest, since it was barely after nine, but he was not anxious to test the limits of the older man's patience. "Guess I am kinda tired," he said agreeably, rising to his feet. "Good night, sir."
"Good night, Fox. And remember what I said. From now on, I'll expect you to abide by your exact words." Skinner stood also, pulling the younger man into a hug, and then sending him off to his room with a swat that was just a shade too hard to be considered affectionate.
Mulder washed up quickly and got into bed, amazed that he had escaped the evening with his butt intact. Frohike was a genius! Of course, it wouldn't do to tell the little guy that, but it was nice to know...
Once Mulder was quiet, the AD poured himself a small scotch and settled back to watch TV. He still wasn't sure that he'd made the right decision, but he intended to use the next few days to make very sure that Mulder understood the meaning of keeping his word. The phone rang a few minutes later and he muted the set to answer it, not surprised to hear his brother Andy on the other end. The younger man had seen his older brother's reaction to the phone call from his secretary, and was no doubt calling to make sure Walter didn't need help hiding the body.
"So how's Fox, Walter?", he began without preamble.
"Asleep at the moment," his brother replied dryly. "At least, he'd better be."
"On his stomach, no doubt," Andy said, wincing in sympathy for Mulder's no doubt pained state. He'd been on the receiving end of his brother's belt a few times, and knew first hand that it wasn't a pleasant experience. "Hope you weren't too hard on him."
"Actually, I wasn't hard on him at all. We discussed the situation, and Fox convinced me that the fault was really mine for not being more specific in my directives."
There was a moment of stunned silence at the other end of the phone line, and then Andy let out a low whistle. "He convinced you that this was all *your* fault, and you let him off the hook? Damn, he's good. I'll have to get him to give me lessons."
"Watch your mouth, little brother-and I wouldn't be signing up for lessons just yet. I wasn't born yesterday, you know."
"Yeah, or the day before that, or the day before that....", Andy interrupted with a laugh.
"You're just asking for it aren't you?", his brother growled. "Any way, he's pretty smug now, convinced he's gotten away with murder, but we'll see how he feels at the end of the week. I have a feeling he's going to regret this great idea of his."
Andy laughed at the words. Mulder might be 'book smart', but it took an awful lot to put one over on Walter Skinner, Jr. After all, he'd had a great teacher. "Well, let me know how it all turns out, Walter. The next few days should be interesting." They chatted a few minutes longer, and then said good night. The AD turned in a short time later, already plotting ways to make sure Mulder learned an important lesson in the coming days.
Mulder woke bright and early Monday morning, still amazed at his luck. Skinner seemed his normal briskly cheerful self as they ate breakfast and dressed for work.
"Will you be here for dinner tonight, Fox?" , the AD asked as he grabbed his briefcase and top coat.
"Yeah, I have a few things to do after work, but I'll be here by seven. I'll even cook," Mulder replied, feeling like he should make some attempt at good behavior after his weekend activities.
"See you then, Fox. And don't forget, I'll need a complete report of your activities this weekend. I realize that you were on your own time, but since the Atlantic City PD was contacted, we'll need a record of the events leading up to that."
"Uh, yes, sir, I'll make sure you have that first thing tomorrow morning," Mulder said, picking up his own files and following his boss out the door to his own car.
Mulder was so filled with relief from escaping the weekend unscathed, even rush hour didn't bother him and he was practically humming when Scully entered their office. She stared at him, amazed.
"I take it your little field trip was successful," she said, cocking one eyebrow at him. "I still don't know how you got Skinner to change his mind about letting you go."
"Nah, it was a bust, Scully," Mulder replied, not anxious to discuss the specifics of the conversation with his boss. "Couldn't find any credible witnesses to the sightings, though I think we talked to every low life in a ten mile radius. If that wild woman had any offspring, they're well hidden."
Scully just shook her head as though that had been a foregone conclusion, and settled down to work, enjoying an unusually perky partner for a change. Paperwork and follow-ups on old cases took up most of the day, and by 5:30, both partners were ready to go home. Mulder stopped at the grocery store on the way home, anxious to show the AD he intended to keep his promise about fixing dinner. He ran a few more errands, and arrived at their home shortly after seven. To his surprise, his boss' car was already in the driveway.
He entered through the kitchen door, carrying the groceries. "Hi, I'm home," he called toward the living room, setting the bags on the table.
"Fox, will you come in here, please," the AD said, his voice stern.
Mulder's stomach clenched, but he couldn't think of anything he had done since the morning to get him into trouble. "Yes, sir?", he asked, coming into the living room. To his chagrin, the paddle he had made some time ago at his 'Dad's request was sitting on the coffee table.
Skinner glanced pointedly at the mantle clock. "Would you like to tell me what time it is?", he asked sternly.
Mulder peered at the clock, confused and growing nervous. "It's 7:13, sir."
"And when you left this morning, what time did you say you'd be home tonight?", Skinner asked.
Mulder thought back to the morning. "Uhm, I said I'd be here around seven," he answered, his mouth suddenly dry.
"No, Fox, you didn't. Your *exact* words were, 'I'll be here by seven. Not 'near' seven, or 'around' seven, but by seven. And since you didn't arrive 'til just a moment ago, I believe that makes your earlier words untrue. And you know how I feel about falsehoods, son."
Mulder's chin dropped, seeing where the conversation was heading, but not knowing how to extricate himself from it. "But, sir! I didn't know you wanted me here at seven."
"I didn't pick the time, you did. But since you did, and since you didn't keep your word, I believe you have some punishment coming for lying. Say, one swat per minute late?"
"But sir!," Mulder whined, dimly realizing that he was repeating himself.
"Sorry, son, but it was *your* idea to live by exact words, remember?," the AD asked sweetly.
Mulder closed his eyes, realizing his error. He should have known that the AD was going to be on his case for a while just to exact some retribution for the weekend. But still, a few swats with the paddle was better than a long session with the belt any day. He opened his eyes and looked straight at his boss. "I guess that's fair, sir," he said with a sigh, walking over to the older man.
"Good, then drop your trousers and get over here. I believe I actually heard your car in the driveway at twelve minutes after seven, so I'll give you an even dozen." He patted his thighs and waited for Mulder to arrange himself over them, pulling the younger man's boxers down once he was in position.
"What's this punishment for, Fox?", he asked, bringing the paddle down hard for the first stroke.
Mulder bit back a yelp, and replied, "For not coming home when I said I would."
His voice rose on the last word as another stinging stroke fell.
"And why was that wrong?", Skinner asked, as he continued swatting.
"Because it means I told a lie," Mulder answered, wincing at each whack.
By the time his boss had finished delivering all twelve swats, the last thing on Mulder's mind was dinner. But he had promised to cook, and there was no way he was breaking his word again.
"All right, Fox," Skinner said, as the younger man slid off his lap and rubbed his burning rear end, "why don't you go get washed up and see about dinner. I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"
Mulder scowled at his boss' good humor, but he went off to get cleaned up and fix their meal, silently vowing to be *very* careful about his words from now on.
Dinner was rather quiet, since Mulder couldn't get comfortable enough on the hard wooden chairs to feel like chatting much. He also wasn't happy about the large glass of milk that Skinner had placed by his plate, but his protest was met by a stern look.
"Fox, if you spent the entire weekend with the terrible trio, I doubt you've eaten anything nutritious in days, so finish it."
Not willing to start another argument he was sure to lose, Mulder did so, and then vegged in front of the TV for the rest of the evening.
When he woke Tuesday morning, he had the vague feeling he was forgetting something. He searched his brain, but could come up with nothing. He was relieved that Skinner had left for work early. His brain was never fully awake first thing in the morning, and he was afraid he might say something that could be used against him later.
He arrived at work a few minutes before eight, still bothered by the niggling notion that he'd left something undone. He was still mulling over it when the phone rang at the stroke of eight. As soon as he heard his boss on the other end, it came back to him in a rush. The report! The one he had promised Skinner for 'first thing in the morning'.
"Agent Mulder? This is AD Skinner. I'd like that report from your New Jersey trip, if it's ready," the older man said, his tone completely business-like and impersonal.
Mulder winced, sure that the older man knew the report was not completed. "I'll have it for you soon, sir," he said , frantically digging through his desk drawers in search of a blank report form.
"Soon, Agent Mulder? I really would prefer it right now, since you did make a point of telling me it would be ready for me first thing this morning," Skinner replied in that same bland tone.
"Uh, yes, sir, and it will be on your desk shortly. I'm just putting the finishing touches on it."
"Oh, really? Well, in that case, why don't I just come down there and take a look at it? That way, if I see anything that needs further clarification, we can take care of it all at once."
Mulder dropped his head on his desk, knowing he was sunk. "I guess it's not quite ready enough for you to look at, sir," he finally admitted.
"More lies, Agent Mulder? I thought we had addressed that particular issue at some length. Perhaps we need to visit the subject again."
"No, sir, really, I've learned my lesson! I'll work on it right away."
Skinner said nothing for a moment, and Mulder was afraid that he was going to insist on coming down to the office anyway.
"Very well, then, but you are not to leave your office until it's finished," he finally said, and Mulder breathed a sigh of relief. "You know, it's a shame you have to spend your morning on that," Skinner continued. "I guess that means you'll have to miss Dr. Cornwell's presentation at 9:00. It's a pity, because he mentioned that he was especially looking forward to seeing you. He thought you'd be especially fascinated by some of the more esoteric points of his topic. I'll just have to tell him you're unable to attend because of more pressing matters."
Mulder's heart plummeted. Damn! He'd forgotten about the presentation! Dr. Cornwell was one of his very favorite professors; one he had learned more from than most of his other teachers at Quantico combined, and he'd been looking forward to seeing him again. The man had been a great friend to him while he was at the academy and through his early career with the Behavioral Science Unit, and Mulder had sworn to keep in touch. He was sorely disappointed at the thought of missing this opportunity to see him.
"I don't suppose I could have the report to you by the end of the day instead?," he asked, knowing it was most likely futile.
"Sorry, Mulder, but you did say *first* thing, and I'm already giving you a break. I know how important being specific is to you, and I wouldn't want to interfere with that. Now, I'll expect to see that report on my desk no later than noon. No excuses."
"No sir, it will be there," the younger man said, despondent. Scully entered their office just as her partner was hanging up and noticed his unhappy expression. That was typical Mulder for you-up one day, down the next.
"What's the trouble, partner? I thought you'd be in a good mood today. I know you've been looking forward to seeing Dr. Cornwell. Let's sort through the morning's mail and figure out the rest of our week, and then we can head up to the conference room. I want to be sure to get a good seat. I've heard he has some slides that are absolutely fascinating."
Her words just increased his misery.
"I can't, Scully. I have a report to write."
"A report? About what?" Scully was staring at her partner like he'd grown another head. Since when did Mulder worry about reports?
"My trip to New Jersey. I promised the AD I'd have it for him this morning, and I forgot, so now I have to work on it before I do anything else."
"Mulder, Skinner won't mind waiting a while longer for the report. Your reports are always late-he's used to it. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to miss Dr. Cornwell's presentation. Just tell him you'll have it for him later today."
"I can't, Scully. I have to do it now. Just say hello to Dr. Cornwell for me, will you? In fact, ask him if he's free for lunch. I should be finished by then," her partner said forlornly.
"Well, all right, but I don't know why you're so determined to do this now." Mulder had grown so close to the AD over the last year, she was unsure why he was so unwilling to ask the man for a small extension, but she wasn't going to argue with him. She headed upstairs a few minutes later, leaving an unhappy Mulder at his desk. She enjoyed the presentation and spoke to Dr. Cornwell afterwards, conveying her partner's regret at having been unable to attend, as well as his lunch invitation.
Unfortunately, he had another engagement, but he did promise to try and get together with his favorite ex-student soon. Scully made her way out of the conference room with the other agents, spotting Skinner off to one side.
"Agent Scully," he said with a nod. "Did you enjoy Dr. Cornwell's discussion?"
"Yes, I did sir, but I think Agent Mulder would have enjoyed it more," she replied, clearly baiting the waters.
"Well, then it's a pity he was unable to attend," he replied evenly, and Scully realized at once that this whole thing had amounted to a punishment for her partner. She wanted to be angry at the AD, but knowing Mulder, he had probably deserved it. She simply nodded and said goodbye, returning to their office to find Mulder just finishing up his report.
"Is Dr. Cornwell free for lunch?", he asked hopefully as he hit the print key on his computer.
"No, sorry, Mulder, but he's got other plans. He did promise to get together soon, though. It's too bad you had to miss him-want to tell me why?"
He slid his eyes away from her. "Scully, I told you. I had to finish the report. And now I have to get it up to Skinner's office."
Scully watched him leave, convinced there was more to the story, and equally convinced that she'd never know what it was.
Mulder left the report with Kim, relieved that the AD wasn't in at the moment. He wasn't anxious to face him so soon after lying to him again. As he waited for the elevator, he winced when he saw him walking down the hall. Skinner stopped beside him just as the elevator doors opened and Agent Delman exited.
"Hello, AD Skinner," he said politely before turning to Mulder. "Hey, Mulder! I was just going to call you! My sister is in town and she's really into all that paranormal stuff, and I was wondering if you were free tonight? She'd love to get together with you!"
Mulder cringed at the thought of a blind date, but he didn't want to hurt Delman's feelings. The kid was new to the bureau, and had always been friendly to him. Thinking fast, he said, "Gee, that sounds nice, Rick, but I'm wiped out tonight. I've got plans to do nothing more than turn in right after dinner with a good book. Maybe another time, all right?"
Agent Delman was disappointed, but he agreed they could get together another time. He said goodbye to both men and sauntered off.
"I hope you've delivered that report, Agent Mulder," the AD said once they were alone.
"Yes, sir, it's on Kimberly's desk. Uhm, I guess I'd better get back to work now," Mulder said quickly, not anxious for a long discussion.
"All right. I'll see you at home tonight?," the AD asked, his voice rising to indicate he was asking a question.
"Yes, sir, I'll be there. Probably *around* six," Mulder answered, careful not to be too specific.
The AD grinned at his cautious wording and nodded. "See you then."
Mulder arrived home a few hours later to find a message from the AD saying he was tied up with work and would pick some dinner up for the two of them on his way home. Mulder decided to take a run, and then played with Yoda 'til he heard Skinner's key in the lock.
"I stopped at Fazzini's for their Italian feast special," the older man said, dropping his briefcase by the door and handing Mulder the heavy bag. "Why don't you get the table set while I change."
The two men ate their fill of the rich food and then packed up the leftovers. Mulder dropped onto the couch with a contented sigh. "Food that good just can't be bad for you," he said. "I don't care what Scully says."
Skinner smiled in agreement, and then reached for the remote. "Well, good night, Fox."
Mulder looked at him oddly. "Good night? Are you turning in already, sir?"
Skinner glanced over at him. "No, you are. Remember, I was standing right there when you told Agent Delman that you were going to turn in with a good book right after dinner. Well, dinner's over, so I guess you're going to bed."
Mulder sat up quickly. "But, sir! I only said that to get out of meeting his sister. You know that!"
"Maybe so, Fox, but those were your exact words, and I know you wouldn't want to break them. Especially after our discussion last night, and again this morning," the AD said, peering at him over the top of his glasses.
Mulder knew when he was beaten. Grabbing a book off the shelf, he trudged despondently to his room. "Good night, sir," he muttered, wishing he'd never heard the expression 'exact words'. He got ready for bed, sighing when he realized it was only 8:20. Just like a punishment tour, minus the bedtime spanking. Deciding he was still getting off lightly, he settled down to read.
He woke the next morning with the vague recollection of his 'dad' coming in to remove the book from his sleeping body and cover him with a blanket. The AD was already dressed when he came into the kitchen.
"Sleep well, Fox?", he asked as he sipped his juice.
"Yeah, fine," Mulder muttered grumpily, stooping to pet Yoda. Scratching him behind the ears, he crooned into the dog's fur, "I promise I'll take you for a walk tonight, boy." At the mention of the word 'walk', Yoda cocked his head expectantly, bringing a smile to his owner's face and restoring his good cheer.
The AD set his glass in the dishwasher and turned to him. "Don't forget, Fox, we've got that meeting with the agents from all the field offices in cities where those unusual murders have occurred. We're hoping to find some sort of connection that will tell us if we're working with the same killer or not. We'll probably get started right at 9:00, so you and Scully should plan to be there by then."
"I've already pulled some of my files on similar cases. We'll be there," Mulder said, climbing up from his spot on the floor and sitting at the table.
Skinner nodded and picked up his briefcase, absently planting a kiss on the top of Mulder's head as he went out the door. Mulder smiled to himself at the show of affection. It had taken a long time, but he was finally comfortable with gestures like that.
The meeting with the out-of -town agents started promptly at nine, and before long, everyone was involved in the case, sorting through files and passing ideas back and forth. At noon, Kimberly came in to take their lunch order, since no one wanted to stop for a visit to the cafeteria. She went around the room, writing down each person's request. Mulder was so immersed in his work, he didn't hear her call to him. Finally the AD touched his shoulder, bringing him back to earth.
"Mulder, what do you want for lunch? You're holding up the order."
The idea of food was distinctly unappealing, but both his 'dad' Skinner and the 'AD' Skinner were big on not missing meals, so he waved his hand irritably.
"Whatever-I don't care," he said, already turning his attention back to the files.
When lunch was delivered a short time later, the AD had everyone move to the small conference room on the side so they'd have room to eat. Mulder hadn't even noticed that most of the other agents had cleared out until Skinner tapped him again.
"Mulder, lunch time. Come eat something and you can get back to work," he said, staving off the younger man's immediate protest. Mulder grabbed the paper he was studying and followed him in, taking a seat next to Scully. He muttered his thanks when another agent handed his sandwich to him, barely even looking up from the papers in his hand as he unwrapped it. He took a bite and chewed while he read. Suddenly, he stopped and grimaced.
"What is this?", he asked in disgust, peering suspiciously at the sandwich in front of him. "I must have gotten your sandwich by mistake!", he said to Scully, opening the whole wheat roll to find an assortment of vegetables and sprouts.
"No, I have what I ordered," Scully said, puzzled.
AD Skinner interrupted. "No, Agent Mulder, there's no mistake. You said it didn't matter what we ordered for you, so I thought I'd get you something that would provide lots of nutrients for the hours of work we have ahead of us. It's called the 'Powerhouse' special. Lots of vegetables and low fat cheese on a whole grain bun. I thought you could use it, and since you said you didn't care...." This was said without a trace of irony, but Mulder knew that once again, the AD was rubbing in the importance of exact words.
"Gee, thanks," Mulder murmured with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. He choked the disgusting sandwich down as quickly as possible, knowing that the AD would be watching him carefully. As soon as he had finished, he returned to the office, intent on getting back to work. The group broke up at 7:00, feeling generally frustrated at not making more progress. The AD felt that they had covered all the ground possible for one day and they made plans to start again fresh in the morning.
Skinner and Mulder arrived home at the same time, too tired to do more than heat up some leftovers. The combination of too much mental activity and too little physical activity left them both feeling drained, but too keyed up to turn in. They finally decided on a movie, letting the story drive the horrible images from the day away. When it finished close to midnight, Mulder yawned and hit rewind.
"Now I'm ready to crash," he said sleepily, picking up his shoes from where he had kicked them off near the sofa. "Good night."
"Just a minute, son. Aren't you forgetting something?"
Mulder sighed. Not again! "What do you mean?", he asked cautiously.
"Yoda-you promised to walk him today, and today has exactly...", Skinner stopped to peer at the clock on the VCR.... "twelve minutes left."
"You're going to make me keep my promise to a *dog*?", Mulder asked incredulously.
"A promise is a promise, Fox. Now, you'd better get going. And put on your rain coat-I think I heard it start to drizzle a little while ago."
Mulder's shoulders slumped. Rain! What else! He slipped on his shoes and trudged over to the closet where they kept the leash, hoping his exhaustion would telegraph itself to the older man, and he'd give him a break. He pulled on his rain slicker, shooting pathetic looks at his boss, but they seemed to be ignored. Just as he was about to call Yoda, he heard the AD's voice.
"Oh, Fox?," he said.
"Yes, Dad?", Mulder asked, turning hopeful eyes toward him.
"Don't forget to dry Yoda with a towel when you bring him in-you know I can't stand the smell of wet dog," the AD said sweetly.
"I'll remember," Mulder growled through gritted teeth. He called the dog from his favorite napping spot in front of the refrigerator and snapped the leash on, pulling his hood up and muttering under his breath.
"Oh, and Fox?" The AD's voice stopped him once again.
Mulder resignedly turned. "Yes, sir?"
"Take your weapon, please. It's late, and I don't want you out there without it."
Mulder nodded wearily and retrieved his gun from the drawer in the front hall. He tucked it into his waistband and headed out the door.
When he returned a few minutes later, both he and Yoda were soaked to the skin. The drizzle had turned into a driving rain, though that hadn't seemed to bother the small mutt at all. He wrestled the small dog into the laundry room and dried him as best as he could with a towel, wanting nothing more than to be warm and dry himself. It was close to one when he finally managed to get both of them dry enough to venture into the rest of the house, and he fell into bed, too tired to do more than strip out of his wet things. He was only half awake when the door opened a moment later and the AD entered.
"Glad you're home safe, Fox. Good night," the older man said, tucking the covers around him and kissing him on the forehead before he bent to gather the wet clothes strewn on the floor.
"G'night, Dad," came the sleepy reply.
Thursday passed in much the same manner as the day before. Mulder was so involved in the case, he barely spoke to anyone, saving himself the trouble of monitoring his words. He once again had to be dragged off to eat lunch, his protests met by a stern glare from his 'father'. He chewed sullenly on the ham and cheese he had ordered only to spare himself the horror of another vegetarian special, mulling over several puzzling aspects of the case.
Something was tickling in the back of his mind, but every time he concentrated, it skittered away. There was some pattern here, he was sure of it. Something that linked all the murders together. Gnawing on his lower lip, he balled up the remains of his sandwich and went back to the conference room before most of the other team members had finished half their lunch, ignoring the AD's frown.
Once there, he spread all the crime scene photos out, trying to find something that would tie them together. Some scenes were well documented, with several clear pictures and clear notes, but others, especially the ones from some of the smaller cities, were barely discernible. The photos looked like they'd been taken by some 10 year olds' cheap instamatic, and there were few, if any, accompanying notes.
The rest of the agents on the team wandered back into the room slowly, raising their eyebrows at each other when they saw "Spooky's" look of complete concentration. They'd heard enough stories to know that the best thing you could do when he got that focused look was stand back and let him do his job.
Skinner and Scully watched him carefully also, ready to step in whenever they felt it might be necessary. Mulder seemed unaware that he now had an audience as he shifted and re-shifted the piles of information. Finally he looked up, his eyes shining. His gaze lit on the AD.
"Sir, I've got to fly to", ---he stopped to consult his notes, "Pesauken, Sant Salinas, and DuBrook. As soon as possible-today if the bureau can get me a flight out of here."
Skinner stared at him in amazement. "Mulder, those three towns are hundreds, and in some cases thousands of miles apart. You can't just jump on a plane and take off! What is so important about visiting them, anyway?"
"I'm not sure, sir, but the crime scene photos from those places are of very poor quality, and I need to take a look myself. I just know there's something there that I'm missing. I'm going home to grab some stuff-tell Kim to book my flights in the order the crimes occurred. I won't be long in any of those places, so she can book the flights as close together as travel time will allow," he said, backing off toward the door while he spoke. "I'll be back within the hour, or you can call me on my cell if I should go straight to the airport."
"Now, just a minute, Agent Mulder! You are not going to flit around the country on nothing more than a whim and a hunch. We have plenty of fine agents right here from cities close to those towns, so I'm sure we can ask them to contact agents from those bureaus to gather any information you need. This is a *team* effort, you know."
"I don't want to wait that long-and besides, I'm not quite sure what to tell them to look for," Mulder said, still moving to the door.
"Stop! Now listen to me," the AD said sternly, moving in front of him and blocking his motion. "We are not going to waste bureau resources on a hunch. When you have something a little more concrete, let me know and we'll proceed from there."
"Waste bureau resources?," Mulder huffed indignantly. "I thought you wanted this case solved! I had no idea that all that mattered to you is keeping the god-damned bottom line looking good. Of all the pig-headed, asinine reasons to hold up this investigation! Hell, if I had known this was nothing more than an exercise, I wouldn't have wasted my time." Mulder was dimly aware that he was way over the line, but in his excitement and frustration, he couldn't slow his mouth down.
The silence that descended once he finished his tirade was deafening.
Mulder swallowed audibly and stared up into the face of the man who had come to mean more to him than any other. The look he saw there was terrifying. Skinner's eyes had gone the muddy shade of brown that Mulder had long ago identified as an indication of pure rage.
"May I see you in my office please, Agent Mulder?", the AD asked, his voice deceptively calm. The rest of the agents in the room, including Scully, winced at the tone, knowing how much it was costing the AD's self-control to keep his temper in check. The older man spun on his heel and exited the room, his abashed agent close behind.
Once they were safely behind closed doors, the AD loomed over his young agent, anger exploding from every pore. "How dare you! How dare you speak to me in that tone, and with those words! I realize that this case is important to you, but that gives you no right to use language fit for a gutter snipe."
Mulder winced at the volume and blushed to the tips of his ears, well aware that the agents just next door were no doubt catching every word of this dressing down.
"I'm sorry, sir! I don't know what came over me! It's just so frustrating to be close enough to something to taste it, and still have it just out of reach," he pleaded, tears pooling in his hazel eyes.
Skinner took a calming breath and loosened the tension in his posture slightly. When he spoke again, his words were for Mulder alone.
"Fox, I am well aware how involved you get in cases of this nature. It's why I always hesitate to include you, even though you are without a doubt the most skilled at pulling information like this together. But that does not excuse your appalling behavior. I don't deserve to be spoken to like that by anyone in my family, and certainly not by a subordinate. And you're both, son."
Mulder dropped his head, ashamed. "I know, sir," he whispered.
"Well, you certainly will when we get home tonight," the AD promised grimly, and Mulder had no doubts about what he was referring to, so he simply nodded.
"Fox, I have no doubt that you're heading in the right direction on this case, but you're simply not in a position to act alone. We have a fine team assembled, and dozens of agents at our fingertips, just awaiting word on how they can help. Try to keep that in mind."
Mulder nodded again, so wrapped in his own misery that the words barely registered in his conscious mind. But something the AD said finally made the connection his weary brain had been looking for.
"Sir! That's it! The towns! The positioning of the bodies! They all correspond to points on a compass!"
The AD stared at him, once again shocked at the change in his behavior. "What are you talking about?," he asked, truly perplexed.
"The towns! I knew there was something familiar about them! I remembered hearing their names in geography class years ago. Four of them are border towns, and if I'm remembering correctly, they're the northernmost, southernmost, easternmost and westernmost places in the US when you measure from the geographic center. With a map, I'll bet we'll discover that the other towns are significant as well! And the bodies-I bet each one is placed facing in the corresponding direction. Please, sir! Let's get back to work-we can call agents near the other towns and have them check, and I'll need a large-I mean *really* big-map of the US."
The AD was still standing there, his mouth hanging open. "Fox, are you all right?", he asked gently, moving to put an arm around the excited man's shoulders. Mulder brushed it off impatiently.
"Of course I'm all right! Look, I know I was way out of line in there, and I'm willing to accept the consequences-you can even double my punishment if you want, but please, just let me get back to work!"
Skinner shook his head, once again awed at his 'son's' quicksilver moods. "All right, Fox. You can go back to work, and I'll get you the things you need. But rest assured, we will deal with all of this tonight."
The other agents looked up as they returned to the conference room, expecting to see a very chagrined and subdued Mulder. Instead, they saw he was practically vibrating with suppressed energy. He turned to one of the agents working with them.
"Agent Bradley, would you pull all those crime scene photos, and spread them out on the table in the order they occurred. The rest of you need to move everything else off the table. Please," he added as an afterthought. "And Scully, I need you to go down to our office and dig through the files until you find one on a group called "Compass Rose". It should be in the 'weird cults' section."
Now it was the rest of the team's turn to be shocked. They turned to look at the AD, expecting him to yank Mulder back again, but he merely nodded, indicating they should do as asked. Scully hadn't bothered waiting for confirmation-she knew Mulder was on to something, and she wasn't about to slow him down.
Mulder turned to his boss. "Sir, if you'd call about a map? And if you could have agents closest to the cities where we're missing information check on it, we can get them added to the rest."
Skinner moved to do as requested, prompting all the other agents to complete their assigned tasks. Within the hour, the conference table was covered with a huge map, marked with brightly colored dots. As Mulder had expected, the four largest dots each corresponded to a direction on the map. With a marker, he drew lines connecting each point, not entirely surprised when the paths crossed through dots marking towns where other murders had occurred.
"You see, sir?", he said excitedly. "The murders match compass points-North, North East, East, South East, and so on, when measured from the geographic center of the continental United States."
"Well, I'll admit your theory is sound Mulder, but *why* are these murders occurring?", the AD asked, staring at the map in awe and confusion.
Mulder reached for the file Scully had retrieved. "There's a cult that calls themselves "Compass Rose"-a pseudo-religious group that believes that miracles and other instances of divine intervention occur at various points around the world, based on their geographical location. They've been suspected of violent activities in the past, but nothing has ever stuck. With these findings, I'd be willing to bet that they're behind all of this. Apparently, things aren't happening quickly enough for them, so they've decided to speed the process along with some kind of ritual killings."
"Then how do we catch them, Mulder?" one of the other agents asked with grudging respect.
"If you'll notice, there's only one point on the compass not accounted for. It would be the North West point, and the town which most closely corresponds to that one is...." Mulder picked up a magnifying glass to read the tiny print.... "Almeria, Nebraska. If they follow the same pattern of one murder every two weeks, it should happen sometime in the next four or five days."
"But how do we know where in the town to begin to look? Even a small town can't be completely canvassed for suspicious persons."
"That's true, but I had another hunch and had someone from the bullpen check on the specific locations where the bodies were placed. Each one was left in the exact geographic center of the town. The only way to get that information is through the town records. All we have to do is check with the clerks there to see if anyone has been asking questions along those lines in the last few days. You might also check if there have been any unauthorized surveying teams in the area. If the center of the town is not a matter of record, they'll have to discover it themselves using the boundaries. "
There were several seconds of stunned silence, and then someone let out a low whistle of appreciation. For those of them that had never seen Mulder on a roll, the past hour had been one of total amazement.
With the information and suggestions Mulder had supplied, Skinner quickly contacted the necessary agencies to insure that the town and citizens of Almeria, Nebraska were safe and on the alert. Once the calls were finished, the AD looked at the clock. Seeing that it was almost 4:00, he dismissed the team for the day, feeling certain that they had done all that they could from there. With any luck, they'd have a suspect in custody within 24 hours, and if necessary could continue from there.
Mulder started to protest, unwilling to leave with so much of the case unresolved, but one look at the AD's face convinced him that argument would be futile. The other agents quickly gathered up their things, delighted at the thought of a few unexpectedly free hours.
Scully and Mulder were the last to file out, since several of the other members of the task force stopped to shake Mulder's hand and express their amazement at his deductions. Mulder felt an unaccustomed flush of both pride and pleasure cover his face, especially when he saw the same pride reflected in Scully's eyes.
"A moment, please, Agent Mulder," the AD said.
Mulder gave Scully's hand a squeeze as she continued out, and turned back. "Yes, sir?"
"I just wanted to say that I'm proud of you. What you did here today was nothing short of incredible. You never cease to amaze me, son." He pulled the younger man into a hug and Mulder felt his eyes tear. He had waited so long to hear those words from his real father, but they couldn't have meant any more than they did coming from this man.
"Thank you, sir," Mulder mumbled, a smile forming on his face from it's place against the AD's broad shoulder.
"And, Fox?"
"Yes?", Mulder asked, pulling back to look him in the eye.
"You're still going to get your butt blistered tonight."
The look on Mulder's face changed so quickly it was almost comical and his good mood disappeared like a popped balloon.
"But, sir!", he practically wailed.
"Sorry, son, but your good work here this afternoon does not negate your earlier outburst. I warned you when we were in my office that we would discuss the matter further tonight, and I always keep my word, Fox."
Mulder crossed his arms, working himself into a full fledged pout. "Yeah, I know, 'exact words', right?", he said petulantly.
Skinner raised an eyebrow at him. "If I were you, I'd lose the attitude, young man. That's what got you to this point in the first place."
Mulder immediately dropped his defensive posture, not wishing to anger the man any further.
Skinner nodded his approval and continued. "Now, I have to speak to the director and try and explain all this to him, so I'll be another few hours. Once you get home, I want you to grab some dinner and then you can spend the rest of the evening in your room. I shouldn't be late. And, Fox? You can go ahead and get the hairbrush out."
Mulder's eyes widened. He hated the hairbrush, and his dad knew it. Nothing made him feel more like a naughty little boy then having that dreaded thing used on him. He knew complaining would gain him nothing but more punishment, though, so he kept his mouth shut for a change.
"Yes, sir," he muttered.
"All right," the AD continued briskly, "I'm sure your partner would like to offer her congratulations, so why don't you catch up to her? I'll see you at home, son."
The kind words helped alleviate some of the tension Mulder was feeling, and he managed to give the older man a half hearted smile as he left the room.
Scully was waiting for him in their office, not wanting to leave for the day without speaking to him.
"Well, life with you is never dull, Mulder," she said with a grin as he entered. "And I know you're just dying to say 'I told you so', since I'm always complaining about the odd things you keep files on."
"You never know when something might come in handy, Scully. Who knew that some obscure bit of geography trivia would be the key to getting to the bottom of this?"
"I don't know, it just doesn't seem possible that a man whose brain can never remember when it's his week to make the coffee can be such a font of information."
"My brain remembers, Scully-it's just that my stomach prefers your coffee to mine. I think they have some kind of arrangement going on."
Scully just smiled. "Really, Mulder, all kidding aside-you were wonderful up there. With the exception of those few bad moments with Skinner, you were really on a roll. So, do you want to go out and celebrate? A few of the out of town agents suggested meeting for a beer later. Are you up for it?"
Mulder was never much for socializing, but he would have vastly preferred a night out to the plans he had. "Gee, maybe tomorrow night, Scully. I'm kind of wiped out."
Scully nodded, accepting his excuse, though she was almost certain that it had been the AD's 'suggestion' that Mulder stay in for the night. She knew that he tended to be very intolerant of her partner's outbursts, and no doubt the tirade in his office was not going to be ignored.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then, partner. Maybe by then, we'll have some word on the suspects."
"Hope so, Scully. See you tomorrow."
Mulder took his time getting home, not anxious to spend any more time in his room than necessary. He changed and then played with Yoda while he nuked some dinner, knowing that the AD would check to make sure he had followed his instructions to eat. After his dinner was heated, he took his plate into the living room, clicking on the TV, keeping an eye on the time. He dawdled over his dinner, but finally realized he had stretched it out as long as possible. While part of him knew that he would probably hear the AD's car in plenty of time to dash to his room, he was also confident that *somehow* the man would know he hadn't been obeyed. Ever since he'd been thrust into the role of Mulder's parent, Skinner seemed to have developed an even more intense sixth sense about his behavior, and Mulder was not anxious to test his theory.
With a heavy sigh that made Yoda cock his head at him, Mulder switched off the TV and went into his bedroom, flopping down on the bed and reaching for his book. Yoda immediately climbed up next to him, and curled up happily.
Mulder read a few pages before he remembered the AD's final instruction. With an even more heartfelt groan, he went to his dresser and retrieved the hairbrush from its hiding place at the very back of his top drawer. He set the dreaded item on his nightstand and went back to his book, scowling when his eyes kept being drawn to it, disturbing his concentration. Finally, he grew disgusted and stuck the thing under his pillow, satisfied that at least now, he wouldn't have to look at it.
He was well into his book when he heard the AD's car some time later. His stomach immediately clenched, knowing he was just a few minutes away from his promised retribution.
Yoda heard the older man's key in the lock and jumped off the bed excitedly, his tail wagging.
"Traitor!", Mulder muttered, as the dog ran to greet his other master.
He heard the AD greet the dog and shuffle through the mail. He then heard him wander into the kitchen, no doubt checking for evidence that Mulder had actually eaten something. Mulder sat up a little straighter when he heard the man's footsteps in the hall. There was a tap on his door, and then the AD stuck his head in.
"Hi, Fox. I'm glad you got some dinner. I'm just going to change, but I'll be back in a few minutes." He glanced pointedly around the room. "We seem to be missing something."
Mulder gave him a sheepish look and retrieved the hairbrush from under the pillow. "I didn't like looking at it, sir," he mumbled morosely.
The AD just nodded, biting back a smile. "The Director asked me to pass on his congratulations. We're hoping to get word back from our Nebraska office that they have a suspect in custody soon."
Mulder knew he should be pleased, since praise from the director was a rare thing indeed, but with the next few minutes weighing heavily on his mind, he could offer no response. The AD seemed to understand his dilemma and apologized.
"Sorry, kiddo, I should have waited to pass that on, I guess. I'll be back in a few," he promised and left, closing the door behind him. Mulder had no choice but to wait, all interest in his book now gone.
All too soon, he heard the AD returning. The older man had changed into sweat pants and a tee shirt, but he still exuding his same calm authority. He closed the door, keeping Yoda out of the room, and then came and sat on the edge of the bed.
He looked at Mulder and shook his head. "So, we're here again, son. Not my favorite way of spending time with you, you know."
"I know, sir. Believe me, it's not mine either," Mulder said softly, tears already forming. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?", he asked desperately.
"I know you are, but it still doesn't change the fact that, once again, you let your temper get the best of you. And you know what my response to that is always going to be. Guess we'd better get this over with. Over my knee, Fox William."
Mulder moved quickly into position; as always, unable to ignore the AD's stern voice. Skinner reached for the hairbrush and waited for the younger man to lower his sweat pants and boxers. He laid the cool wood against the soft skin. "All right, Fox," he said, bringing the brush down hard. "What is this punishment for?"
Mulder yelped. Now matter how many times he'd been in this position over the last few years, the first stroke always came as a rude surprise. "For being disrespectful and rude to you," he gasped as the brush continued its assault.
"And what else, Fox?"
"For using bad language, especially at the office," Mulder ground out, the words becoming more difficult as the burning increased.
The AD made a noise in his throat. "I would think that someone with an Oxford education could find more appropriate ways of expressing themselves, young man," he said, keeping up a steady rain of smacks on the rapidly reddening globes. "Anything else?"
"For getting so caught up in the case, I let it cloud my judgment," Mulder managed between sobs.
Skinner landed several more swats down low, adding a few marks to the top of the young man's thighs. Mulder's reaction was very clear and vocal.
"OOWWW!!!"
The older man dropped the brush, satisfied that the his young agent was truly and deeply repentant. He gently rubbed his back, careful of the now-flaming skin, and shook his head ruefully. After all of Mulder's many punishments, the skin on his backside should have resembled shoe leather, but it still looked as soft as the baby butt he used to diaper.
Mulder finally quieted, shifting back on his heels, careful not to rest his weight on his legs. "I really am sorry, sir," he hiccuped.
"I knew that before we started, son," the older man said gently. "But the minute you get deeply involved in a case, it seems that your good judgment flies out the window. Not to mention your sense of propriety where your language is concerned. And I think you could use a further reminder about that. Come with me, Fox," he said, hauling the startled young man briskly to his feet. He waited until Mulder had pulled up his pants and then steered him in the direction of the bathroom.
Mulder's heart was pounding, both from the punishment he had just received and the one that was apparently to come. Skinner pushed him in front of the sink and removed his toothbrush from the stand. Grabbing the bottle of liquid soap, he squeezed a generous dollop on the bristles and then handed it to the horrified younger man.
"Let's see if a little soap will help clean up that mouth of yours, Fox. Brush!", he commanded.
Mulder took the brush and stared at it with distaste, his lip curling out. "Please!" he whispered.
"Now!"
Cringing at the acrid taste, Mulder stuck the brush in his mouth and tentatively moved it around.
"You can do better than that," the older man said sternly, and Mulder had no choice but to brush more vigorously, wincing as the bubbles formed on his teeth. He gagged as some of the foam went down his throat.
Skinner let him continue for a few seconds and then took the brush from his hand and handed Mulder a cup full of water. "You can rinse now, Fox. Just don't tell my parents-they'd accuse me of being too soft on you. Whenever one of us kids let our mouths get us into trouble, we had the soap in our teeth to remind us all night long. And let me just tell you right now. If I ever hear an outburst of profanity like that again, you'll be brushing your teeth with soap every night for a week."
Mulder shivered at the warning and took the cup gratefully, rinsing and spitting several times. In spite of his best efforts, the taste was still strong, and he was afraid he'd be burping bubbles for days.
Once he stopped sputtering, the AD handed him a towel and they walked back to his room. Then, with a teasing gleam in his eye, the older man picked the hairbrush back up. "Now, on to the second half of your punishment."
Mulder's head flew up in horror. "What?!?"
"In my office today, you said I could double your punishment if I let you get back to work on the case. Weren't those your exact words, Fox?", Skinner said, and it wasn't until Mulder eyed him nervously and saw his grin that he was sure he was only kidding.
"That wasn't funny," he said with a scowl as he let the older man guide him between the cool sheets of his bed. Skinner sat down on the edge, knowing Mulder often liked to talk after being punished. Once he was settled comfortably on his stomach, Mulder tentatively spoke.
"Sir? About this exact words thing?"
"Yes, son?"
"Well, I was wondering if maybe we couldn't go back to the old way of doing things."
"You mean not living by exact words? But that might interfere with our communication, Fox!", the AD said, feigning shock at the idea.
"I think we did okay before," Mulder mumbled.
"Oh, I don't know about that. You seemed to have some trouble understanding my orders not to go to Atlantic City last weekend. Maybe we should stick to this a while longer."
"Ididn'tmisunderstandyou", Mulder said into his pillow.
"What was that, son?"
Mulder lifted his head and looked the AD right in the eye. "I said, I didn't misunderstand you. I knew I wasn't supposed to go, but I did anyway."
Skinner nodded. "I'm glad you finally admitted that. I don't like being played for a fool, Fox," he said sternly.
"I know. It was Frohike's idea," Mulder replied, and then yelped when the AD's heavy hand swatted his upturned butt hard enough to sting even through the covers. "But I never should have gone along!", he quickly amended.
"No, you shouldn't have, Fox. That kind of dishonesty destroys trust, and we've worked too hard for that."
"I know, sir, and I'm sorry. I know I deserve to be punished," he admitted reluctantly.
Skinner eyed him speculatively. "Well, it seems to me that this whole week has been a punishment of sorts for you."
Mulder agreed wholeheartedly, especially when he remembered that dreadful veggie sandwich. "Does that mean I'm off the hook?", he asked hopefully.
"Not quite, Fox, though I will consider your 'pain and suffering' this week as a down payment, of sorts. But I think a weekend of house arrest, coupled with some yard work and other chores, will help wipe the slate clean."
Mulder sighed at the prospect of a beautiful spring weekend being lost to chores, but he knew he was getting off lightly. "Is that your final answer?," he teased, repeating the catch phrase which had grown so popular in the last few weeks.
Skinner smiled at the joke and stood, adjusting the covers and turning out the light. "I don't know about that, Fox, but I have some 'exact words' for you. Get some sleep. And I love you, son."
Mulder snuggled into the covers. "I love you, too, Dad."
And those were exact words he could live with.
THE END