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Notes and Disclaimers in Part One |
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Skinner lay on his back, the bedclothes thrown off as he tossed and turned earlier, finally giving up any hope of getting to sleep while his mind was so full. Only one thought and one face occupied his mind. Mulder. Whose lack of self-esteem and zero self-confidence, the legacy of his Dom�s conditioning, were worrying Skinner. The difference between what Skinner had begun to think of as �pre-Rob Mulder� and �post-Rob Mulder� were frightening. In the office, even in the field, he had always been brash, humorous, single-minded, determined to get at the truth no matter whose nose got put out. Recently, Skinner noticed, he seemed to have lost the ability to make even the simplest decision, and any perceived mistakes were immediately and genuinely apologised for. People were beginning to discuss Mulder�s behaviour openly, and more than once Skinner had been sure the gossip had been deliberately started when he was within earshot. The culmination of the unbearable week had been Spender�s, as usual uninvited, appearance at the coffee shop. He had made it simple. Get Mulder back on track or find a reason to fire him. Mulder�s altered behaviour was putting himself and others in danger. ************* After a sleepless night, Skinner had been tempted to haul Mulder in to his office and offer to allow him to resign. But Walter Sergei Skinner, former USMC and FBI AD had a stubborn streak. So he lifted his cell phone out of his desk drawer, got up and retrieved the card Spender had given him, tucked it into his shirt pocket and walked out of his office. Away from the building, he unfolded his phone, pulled the card out of his pocket and dialled the number. ************* �Kim, cancel my afternoon please. I�m not feeling well. I�m going home.� �Yes sir.� Skinner drove out to the address the woman had given him and pulled into the car park at the back of the anonymous-looking building. As he approached the door, it opened suddenly. The middle-aged woman who stood in the doorway smiled. �Mr Skinner? I�m Catherine Sullivan. Come on in.� ************ �Of course. I�ll make sure there�s a room free. When?� �Tonight?� Catherine nodded. �I�ll see to it. Would you like me to stay with you both?� Walter considered the offer for a moment. �No. No offense, but I want Mulder to trust me when we�re alone, not me when you�re nearby.� Catherine smiled understandingly. �Very well. Just answer me one question?� �Sure.� �Why are you doing this?� �I don�t know.� Skinner admitted. Catherine got up, draining the last of her drink. She put a gentle hand on Skinner�s forearm. �You take good care of the little Fox. If you treat him badly, I�ll break your legs.� Skinner�s head snapped up and he saw the steel behind the polite smile. �I�m doing my best. This is all new territory for me.� The expression softened and Catherine smiled, leaning forward to kiss Skinner�s cheek. �I�m always here.� Skinner finished his own drink, grabbed his jacket and got up.
*************** �Mulder, come and sit down please.� Mulder got up from the floor where he had been thumbing through Skinner�s CD collection. �Mulder, because of what happened to you, I know you find it hard to trust anyone. But I want you to know you can trust me. And the only way I think you�ll believe it�s true is if we do something together and you call the shots. So, how about it?� �You�ll stop if I say.� �Yeah.� �Even if you don�t think I�ve been punished enough.� Skinner almost screamed. �Mulder, this won�t be a punishment. It�ll be something nice. But you�ll still be able to stop any time.� �Okay.� Mulder seemed disinterested in whatever Skinner had planned, and got up, walking back to the pile of CD�s he was sorting through. ************** Mulder recognised the Club. He had visited once or twice with Rob. He wondered briefly how Skinner knew of it, then decided he didn�t care. Skinner looked around the room, saw Catherine and was relieved as she came over. �Hello Mr Skinner. Fox.� �Ms Sullivan.� Fox was too nervous to manage more than an unintelligible sound and Catherine steered Skinner towards a door at the back of the room. ************ �Traffic lights Mulder.� Skinner said, sure Mulder was being deliberately difficult. If he�d done a few days research and found out about safewords and several other things so easily, he was sure Fox must be very familiar with them. Mulder shrugged, genuinely lost. �I�don�t know what that means sir.� Skinner sighed. �Didn�t Rob teach you anything Mulder?� �Teach me? No sir. He mostly just hit me.� Although Mulder was staring at the carpet as he spoke, Skinner recognised that Mulder seemed to be slowly coming round to the idea that what Rob had done was wrong. �Traffic lights Mulder. Green if you�re okay with what�s happening. Amber if you want me to know you�re okay but nearing your limits. Red if you want me to stop. Oh, and blue if you�re okay but you want me to stop for another reason � you need the bathroom or something. Think you can remember that?� Mulder half-smiled. �I have, um, a pretty good memory sir.� Skinner nodded. �Okay. Now, are you ready?� Mulder swallowed hard. Not trusting his voice, he nodded. *********** Mulder knew better than to ask what Skinner had planned. Either he would get a lie or no answer at all. Although it had been several weeks since he had last been hit, he was resigned to the renewed pain and stripped quickly at Skinner�s instruction. He was reaching his fingers into the waistband of his boxers when Skinner�s sharp voice reached him. �You can leave them on Mulder. Get up on the table.� Skinner sighed inwardly as he turned away. Mulder�s pale skin was covered in a mass of scars. Some small, fading. Others larger and more recent. �Just relax Mulder. I�m not going to hurt you. Lay on your stomach.� Mulder squirmed nervously on the table, finally lying with his head pillowed in his arms, his stillness a contrast to his usual constant skittishness. He half-opened his eyes and stared at Skinner, stripped to the waist, his back to Mulder. Skinner�s strong fingers probed and pressed into every inch of muscle across Mulder�s back and shoulders. Once or twice, Skinner hit a particularly knotted muscle, and his determination to relax the tension under his fingertips had Mulder squealing. �Red!� Mulder shouted, his voice echoing in the small room. Immediately Skinner stopped. He stood back from the table and waited. �Okay.� Mulder muttered after a moment. Skinner continued, ignoring the sounds of pain until his fingers had smoothed the muscle fibres under them. He worked methodically down from the nape of Mulder�s neck, across both his shoulders and down his spine. By the time he reached the small of Mulder�s back, the younger man was moving his body to try and direct Skinner�s fingers, lifting his hips slightly to meet Skinner�s touch. Embarrassed, Skinner stopped abruptly and Mulder moaned at the loss of contact and sensation. �Green.� He mumbled, turning over. His eyes were wide, dark with arousal and he moaned as his relaxed muscles had to work hard for the first time in an hour. �You�re done Mulder.� Skinner said, self-consciously ruffling Mulder�s hair. Reaching for a blanket, Skinner covered Mulder�s limp form. He looked down at Mulder, his face relaxed, eyelids fighting to stay open, the long lashes seeming to drag them down, mouth half-curved into a slight smile. �Shh now. Rest for a while. I�ll grab a shower and be right back. No one will come in.� Mulder�s eyes drifted closed and he lay still and quiet until Skinner�s hand on his shoulder roused him from his doze. �Come on sleepyhead. Time to head home.� Mulder�s groan made Skinner smile. *************** The usually incessantly chatty Mulder was, Skinner noticed, almost silent on the return journey. He left the younger man with his thoughts until the arrived at the apartment, then decided enough was enough. If Mulder had been upset by what Skinner had arranged, he needed to know. �Mulder, come on in the kitchen while I fix us some dinner.� Mulder followed silently, dropping into his usual seat at the table. �Mulder, is everything okay?� �Why did you do that to me?� Mulder�s sudden harsh question spun Skinner round, his hands dripping water. Frowning, he said quickly: �Mulder, I know you were a little stiff to begin with, but I didn�t realise�I thought you were okay.� �You did a nice thing, and after dinner, you�re going to hurt me, right? You just wanted to soften me up. At least Rob just did it. That was just mean.� �Wrong! Mulder, I�m not going to hurt you.� Skinner couldn�t believe his actions had been so completely misinterpreted. �Then why were you�nice?� Mulder asked, confusion written on his face. �Because you�re so tense bullets would bounce off you Mulder.� His hand unconsciously going to his shoulder, Mulder swallowed hard. �They don�t.� Skinner sighed. �Mulder, half an hour ago, you were relaxed, you were happy. Now you�re upset and you�re angry. We talked about this. You have to tell me what you�re thinking. I can�t read your mind Mulder.� Mulder smiled sadly. �You wouldn�t like it if you could. I�m so screwed up�� Skinner came across and stood at Mulder�s side. Without thinking, he put his arm around the younger man�s shoulders. �You were Mulder. But not any more.� Mulder got up suddenly, tipping his chair backwards. Skinner was moving to right it when he realised Mulder was reaching for him. Hesitating only for a moment, he reached his arms around Mulder�s heaving shoulders and held him tightly. �It�s okay Mulder. Everything�s going to be okay. Shh.� The meaningless words, which Skinner realised with a sigh were a lie, seemed to calm Mulder. He stood with his head pressed against Skinner�s chest, his chest heaving as he fought for breath and self-control. �I�m scared.� Mulder whispered. �I know.� Skinner said gently. His hand moved to Mulder�s head and he stroked Mulder�s hair until Mulder pulled away. �Sorry. I�m sorry.� Mulder was suddenly terrified that Skinner would be angry with him for being ungrateful. His words came out quickly, breathlessly forced out as he waited for the inevitable angry response. Skinner put his hands on Mulder�s shoulders, waiting until the younger man looked up. �You have nothing to be sorry for Mulder. Now it�s late. Go to bed.� His emotions completely confused, Mulder walked slowly to his room. ************** He was half-asleep when the door opened and Skinner crossed to the bed. Pulling the bedclothes around Mulder�s shoulders, Skinner smiled. Softly, he said: �Sleep well Mulder.� Snuggling into the bedclothes, Mulder�s voice was muffled, but unmistakable. �Green.� Skinner chuckled. �Yeah Mulder. Definitely green.�
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