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Control issues � Decision time Mulder wasn�t sure why, but he imagined that, eventually, Skinner would simply agree to take him on. Over the previous weeks, he had learned enough about his boss that he dared to allow himself to hope Skinner would change his mind. But it wasn�t to be. Skinner had helped him find Dan, he had liked the man from the start and been pleased when Dan had agreed to take him on. They had made their arrangements, and they were meeting for the first time that evening. Mulder had noticed that Skinner had become slightly more distant since he had told him about Dan. He had tentatively broached the subject, been sharply rebuffed, and left it alone after that. He hoped Skinner understood he appreciated his boss�s support over what had been a nightmare period in his life. The doorbell interrupted his thoughts. Dan stood in the doorway, looked Mulder up and down, appraising his choice of clothing. �Fox. Ready?� Fox nodded, swallowing nervously. He grabbed his jacket and keys and followed Dan down the corridor. *********** Dan was clearly a regular at the Chinese restaurant, and they were immediately shown to a corner booth, near the back of the small place. Mulder looked around, taking in the muted décor and attentive, but unobtrusive waiters. Dan ordered for both of them and waited until the food was almost gone to turn the conversation around from the weather and the traffic. �We�ll meet at nine on Fridays. I�ll stay a minimum of an hour. Maximum two. What is your safeword?� �Broccoli.� Mulder said, containing his excitement with difficulty. �I�ll leave you stuff to wash with and stuff to wear. If you run out, or something needs replacing, tell me.� �Okay. Should I get anything in for when you come over?� �Brandy. Something decent.� �Okay.� Clearly a man of few words, Dan asked: �Anything else?� �What should I call you?� Mulder asked, thinking quickly. �Sir.� Dan said firmly. Mulder nodded. �Okay. Um, I�� �What?� Dan asked, his tone slightly sharp. �I hope I�m not a disappointment.� �I hope so too Fox. Friday.� Dan wiped his mouth and fingers on the heavy cloth napkin, got up, pulled out his wallet, dropped a handful of bills onto the table, and left. Fox gathered the money with shaking hands. A shadow darkened the tablecloth. He looked up, expecting the waiter and stared for a moment. �Sir?� �Mulder.� Skinner said, slipping into the seat opposite him. �How did you know..?� �I�ve been sitting outside.� �Why?� Skinner shrugged, avoiding answering. �How�s the food?� �Okay. The take-out from that place at the end of your block is better.� Skinner put down the menu and waved away the waiter who hovered nearby. �Need a lift?� Mulder realised that Dan had driven, and he was stranded. �Thanks.� ************ The journey was completed in near-silence until Skinner pulled up outside Mulder�s apartment. �Be careful, okay?� Mulder smiled. �Hey, you checked the guy out, right?� Skinner nodded. At least Mulder didn�t know how thoroughly he had delved into the IT consultant�s background. �So stop worrying.� Mulder teased gently. �Yeah. Night Mulder.� Skinner forced a smile. ************* Spender put down the buff-colored cardboard folder Catherine had handed him only a few minutes earlier. �Perfect.� Catherine forced a neutral expression onto her face. �For Fox.� Spender smiled, got up, stubbed his cigarette out in the silver dish on the table in front of him and walked to the door. His hand on the door handle, he turned. �Of course.� Catherine�s hands shook as she poured herself a generous measure of Scotch. ********** Daniel Warren smiled at his reflection in the mirrored wardrobe door. No-one would guess what he was wearing underneath his jeans and sweatshirt. Picking up his keys and his coat he left his apartment. Although his new sub�s apartment wasn�t far, it was in a neighborhood he wasn�t familiar with and he drove cautiously, too busy concentrating on the road ahead to glance in his rear-view mirror more than once or twice. ************ Mulder tore another month off his calendar. Four months. Four months since Dan came into his life. He smiled as he checked the time. An hour. Plenty of time to get through what had become a well-established routine. Shower, hair wash, change. Smelling as Dan liked. Dressed as Dan liked. Standing under the powerful water jets, Mulder�s smile widened. ********** �Skinner.� Skinner put down the TV remote and tucked the receiver between his chin and shoulder. �Mr Skinner? Channel Nine. Perhaps you�d like to break the bad news to Fox.� The line went dead and Skinner flicked the TV back on. The final seconds of the news report on the fatal accident involving �up-and-coming internet entrepreneur Daniel Warren� left him nauseous. ************ Mulder opened the door, fighting his anxiety that Daniel was early. Almost twenty minutes early. �Sir?� �Mulder, come and sit down.� �Um, sir, I�� �It�s okay Mulder. I need to talk to you. Sit down.� Skinner looked around, saw the bottle of expensive brandy and poured Mulder a glass. �Drink this. You�re gonna need it. You been watching TV?� �No sir, I�ve been getting ready to�um�to�� �He�s not coming Mulder.� �Sir?� Mulder flushed bright red. �Daniel was on his way over here. There was an accident. He�s dead.� Mulder didn�t speak. Or move. Or change his expression. Skinner frowned. �Mulder, have a drink.� Most of the brandy was spilled between Mulder�s lap and his mouth, but he managed a mouthful. �Mulder, where�s your bag?� �On top of the wardrobe.� Mulder whispered tonelessly. Skinner went into the bedroom, pulled the bag from the top of the cupboard, checked the contents quickly, then went back into the living room. �Let�s go.� �Sir?� Mulder looked up uncomprehendingly. �You shouldn�t be on your own. You can stay at my place tonight.� Mulder allowed himself to be lifted to his feet, Skinner�s hand under his elbow. He stood unmoving as Skinner pulled his jacket around his shoulders. With a slight shove between his shoulder blades, he managed the walk to the door. ************** Catherine crossed to the bar and tried not to breathe too deeply as the smoke curled around her. �Why?� Spender turned. �Why what Katie?� �Why Daniel. Fox was�� �Getting too fond of the man? Yes, he was. Still, now he�ll go back where he belongs.� �And that would be?� Catherine felt her eyes stinging. Spender frowned, taking the tone a teacher would take with a particularly stupid child. �With Skinner of course. Sometimes Katie, you can be very slow.� �Skinner doesn�t want Fox.� Catherine said, too late realising what she�d said. �Really?� Spender stubbed out one cigarette, immediately lighting another. �Some months ago, you assured me he and Fox were perfect for each other.� �I was wrong.� Catherine said nervously. Spender half-smiled, got up, stubbed out his cigarette and pulled on his coat. �Drive carefully Katie. DC�s roads can be dangerous to your health. Ask Daniel Warren.� As soon as she was alone, Catherine walked behind the bar, grabbed a glass and poured herself a large Scotch. Almost under her breath, she muttered: �I�m drinking in the middle of the day. Spender, you bastard.� ************ Mulder was barely sentient as Skinner steered him into the bedroom, stripped him, and left him to rest. The shock, the alcohol and Skinner�s fussing combined to leave him curled up under unfamiliar bedclothes, wondering what his future held. If he had a future. He could hear the muted sounds of the TV coming up the stairs, and he lay for some time before his eyes closed. Skinner pushed open the bedroom door and looked in. Mulder was in his characteristic sleeping position � curled up protectively, bedclothes almost to his ears. Skinner smiled. Quietly, not wanting to disturb him, Skinner said: �Goodnight Fox.� Fast asleep, Mulder neither heard nor replied. Skinner pulled out his cell phone. Looking at the small card he pulled from his wallet, he dialled the number. 'Catherine? It's Walter Skinner.' 'Walter, I heard. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?' 'Actually, there is. Look, I don't want to leave Fox. Could you come over?' 'Sure. I'll be...about half an hour.' 'Thanks.' Walter folded his phone closed. Half an hour. Thirty minutes. Not long to make what would probably be the most important decision of his life. And Fox's. Click here to go to the final part of Part One Return to the X-Files Fic Index Return to the West Wing Fic Index
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