Note: special thanks to Kosh in Italy for the language lessons. There are just some words that can’t be found in a dictionary. Gratzi, cara.

*******************

The day was damp and rainy and everyone was bored. The boys had spent the morning working in their books and were now prepared for a movie in the family room with Natti. They were in a mood for reality, so Natti popped in a brand new NOVA tape on the Clones. The men thought that it was a good start, getting the boys used to the idea and to see the Clones in a positive light. It would be helpful for the future discussion they knew had to happen when the boys were old enough. Krycek had taken the easy way out of the rain; after receiving a phone call and spending just a few minutes speaking Arabic to someone, he left town.

"We need one of those Star Trek universal translators," Mulder had grumbled.

Skinner and Mulder spent some time working quietly together on their computers, sitting opposite eachother at the work table. Once in a while, Skinner would glance up, amused at the sight of Mulder’s glasses perched on the end of his nose.

"Daddy?" Adam came in and leaned against Mulder’s back, his chin on his father’s shoulder.

"Hmmm?" Mulder continued to type on the report that he was reading over.

"You know that girl Jessica? She’s older, 13."

"Who? No, honey, I don’t know Jessica. What about her?"

Adam sighed. "Nothing. She’s strange."

"Everyone has something eccentric in their nature. What do you find strange about her?" Mulder took his glasses off and pulled Adam around and onto his lap. Adam had begun to enter the ‘I’m a big boy now and hugs and kisses are for babies’ stage that boys get into. Since Adam had been clingy all day, Mulder was taking advantage of the time and getting in his hugs and kisses while he could.

"She feels weird. Like something is going to happen when she’s around," Adam confessed.

"That feeling is called anticipation, the verb is ‘to anticipate’. Is this happening a good feeling or a bad feeling?" Mulder asked.

"A bad feeling." Adam leaned his head against his father’s chest and snuggled in.

"Has she hurt anyone? Or tried to hurt anyone?" Mulder asked. Skinner glanced up.

"No," Adam admitted. "She’s nice. I don’t mean that she’s going to hurt someone, just that something bad is going to happen."

Skinner had begun to wonder if Adam had inherited more from his father than simply the hair, the lower lip and the smarts. Every once in a while, Adam would appear just before they called him, or stare at the phone just before it rang and his guesses were just a little more correct than the average. Skinner wondered what sort of fireworks puberty would bring.

"Well, there isn’t really anything we can do unless something does happen," Mulder was saying. "We’ll watch out, though, alright?"

Adam nodded, content that his father would take care of the problem. Mulder set Adam upright and looked at him with a mock-stern expression.

"Tell me you love me," he demanded. Adam sucked in his lips and zipped them shut, shaking his head. Mulder tipped him backwards until Adam’s hair was brushing the floor. He took a slim ankle and yanked the sock off.

"You better tell me," he warned.

"No," Adam giggled, shaking his head. Mulder took the foot and bit the trim arch. Adam screeched with laughter. Skinner smiled at them.

"Alright!" Adam yelled. "ILOVEYOUILOVEYOU!"

Mulder pulled him upright. Adam’s face was flushed from the blood rush. Mulder kissed him and hugged him tightly, burying his face in his son’s hair and neck, breathing deeply of Adam’s unique scent. Making a memory, Skinner remembered a line from a movie. He understood the act; he was positive that he could tell the twins apart in the dark by smell alone.

A knock came to the door and Skinner got up to answer it while Mulder loved his son.

"Can I help you?" he asked the rain dampened stranger on his porch.

"Hope so. Is this Fox Mulder’s residence?" the man asked, shaking his jacket.

"Ali?!" Mulder came to the door, hearing the voice. He was carrying Adam on his back. The men bear hugged, Adam sliding off his father’s back to avoid the clasping hands. Skinner sent Adam to fetch a clean towel for the man to dry off with.

"Walter, this is Alistair Katowsky. We went to college together."

Oxford; that explained the man’s accent, Skinner thought. Adam came running back in and handed Alistair a towel.

"Thank you, lad. That mouth; has to be yours, Fox," the man commented.

"Yes, this is my son Adam. And this is my partner, Walter Skinner."

Skinner shook hands with the man. Extremely few people called Mulder Fox. The twins came wandering in, having heard the door and the commotion. Their guest stopped drying his hair and stared.

"I must have hit my head, I’m seeing double," he declared. The boys giggled. Mulder introduced them.

There was something about their guest that Skinner found familiar but he couldn’t place it. The melodic tenor voice, light brown hair touching his shoulders, facial features unusually chiseled for a Brit.

Mulder led them all back into the livingroom and gathered on the couch and chairs.

"You look like Ali Kat," Pavel declared. The man looked amazed.

"I do? Well, fancy that!" Alistair finger-combed his hair into some semblance of order. Skinner stared at the man.

"You are Ali Kat!" he said in astonishment.

"Guilty!" Ali grinned, not at all looking guilty. Skinner was trying not to go all goose-girl, after all, he had met presidents and royalty. But he had never met a world famous rock legend. Sitting in his livingroom?

"Why didn’t you tell me you went to school with Ali Kat?" he confronted Mulder. Mulder shrugged.

"You never asked. Besides, he was just plain old Alistair Katowsky back then, rogue and all around trouble-maker."

"Me? A rogue?" Ali protested. "I seem to recall a certain bookworm who led the no-nukes demonstration on campus. And was almost expelled for it."

"I’m sure I don’t know what you mean," Mulder said with quiet indignation.

Natti brought out a tray with coffee for the men and milk and cookies for the children. Mulder introduced her.

"The only woman in a house of five males?" Ali asked incredulously. "You’re for sainthood, luv."

Natti waved a hand at him. "Six males, actually, one isn’t here at the moment. As for sainthood, the Pope isn’t returning my calls. I think he has some sort of strange prejudice against Russian Pagans. Or is it females in general? I forget."

Ali barked out a surprised laugh. He took her hand and placed a loud smack on it.

"Come and work for me! I have six children and I can pay you a hell of a lot more than this poor bastard can," he declared, pointing at Mulder.

"I’ll remember that when it comes time to ask for a raise," she said, with a teasing glance at Mulder and Skinner. She went into the kitchen to take an inventory; it was shopping day.

"Six kids?" Mulder asked. "I think you’re taking the command to repopulate the earth a little too seriously."

"Only three are mine, the others are adopted," Ali explained. "I love them all, though, sometimes I even forget they’re adopted. You want to talk about over-population, give a call to Sting, I think he and Trudy are running their own little tribe."

The boys were busy dunking their cookies in the milk. Ivan generously held out a sodden piece to Ali. Without a second thought, the man opened up and let Ivan pop it in. Skinner was convinced; Ali wasn’t just a father, he was a Dad.

He did find it disconcerting, however, that this person in his livingroom could pick up the phone and call Sting.

"Walter, I sent Ali a copy of Marc’s demo tape and our handfasting video, so that he could see Marc on a stage," Mulder said. "I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up; Ali’s a busy guy and I already felt bad about taking advantage of our friendship."

"Not at all, Fox," Ali assured him.

"So, since you’re here, does that count for interest in Marc?" Skinner asked. Ali nodded.

"Yes, very much so. I’d like to meet him, give him a listen some more. Do you know if he reads music?"

Both men nodded. "Yes, and he writes," Skinner said.

"Marc is our cousin," Pavel informed Ali. "He’s really nice and he sings Puff and Spider with us."

Ali looked for clarification which Mulder provided.

"Oh, yes! I know Puff and Spider, my kids like them, too," he told the boys.

"Really?" Pavel asked in amazement. "How come you don’t sing them on your CDs?"

Ali opened his mouth but shut it again. He thought about it.

"You know? That’s a good idea. I can make a CD just for kids and I can sing Puff and Spider on it. Which one are you?"

"Pavel," Pavel answered, wiggling with an attack of the shys.

"Well then, Pavel, if I make a CD just for kids, would you and your brother and Adam come and sing Puff and Spider with me?"

The boys surged up and rushed Skinner and Mulder, jumping and dancing in their excitement.

"Can we can we can we?????!!!!!" they yelled. Seeing no reason why not, the men agreed and were rewarded with exuberant hugs. They then rushed off into the kitchen to tell Natti.

"That was nice of you, Ali," Skinner said, thanking him.

"Not at all," Ali waved him off. "It really is a good idea, don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself."

The boys raced back through the livingroom and up the stairs.

"Walk!" both Mulder and Skinner said loudly, but without any hopes of actually getting the boys to slow down. Ali chuckled.

"I’m going into town for groceries," Natti informed them as she came into the room. "I’ll take the boys with me, get them out of your hair for a while. So to speak." She looked at Skinner’s dome but didn’t elaborate.

"You’re a riot, Natti," Skinner said dryly.

Promised with Chucky Cheese, the boys tore their rooms apart looking for sneakers, galoshes and raincoats. Within 5 minutes, they were waddling like little yellow ducklings out into the rain behind Natti.

Another five minutes and Marc stood at the door, guitar case in hand. When he saw their guest, the guitar case dropped to the floor with a protesting twang.

"Careful there, lad, that’s your future," Ali teased. Marc flushed and picked the case up. Skinner introduced them.

"Why don’t you take Ali downstairs and show off a little?" Skinner suggested. Marc looked like a deer caught in the headlights, but he nervously did as his older cousin suggested.

Skinner waited until they were gone before turning to Mulder.

"Thank you for giving him this chance and why does Ali call you Fox?"

Mulder chuckled and took Skinner’s face between his hands, planting a kiss on him.

"You’re welcome and he was my first guy."

Skinner knew he looked like a fish. "But he’s married!" he protested.

"So were you, what’s your point?" Mulder responded. Skinner flushed and shook his head.

"Nothing. Sorry." He scrubbed at his face.

"You know that thing you like me to do with my tongue?" Mulder asked, leaning in close. Skinner nodded. "Thank Ali," he whispered, taking a nibble out of Skinner’s bottom lip.

They got back to work on their various reports, listening to the music floating up from the family room. Marc sang parts of various songs, slow, fast, some of Ali’s, some of his own. Sometimes he would stop, obviously receiving instruction from Ali before starting again. After a couple of hours, Marc hustled back up the stairs.

"I... I’m going with Ali to his home! He has a brownstone across from Central Park! Fox, I...!" At a loss for words, Marc swooped, tipping Mulder backward in his chair and planting a loud kiss on his mouth. "Whatever happens, thank you!"

Mulder licked his lips and pursed them. "You know? That was pretty good." Skinner shot a balled up piece of paper at him.

After Marc and Ali left, Skinner and Mulder decided on a movie since they had the TV to themselves for a couple more hours.

"Take care of my cousin," Skinner had instructed Ali, shaking his hand.

"Promise. My wife is going to take one look at him and adopt him. Fox has my home phone, you’re welcome to call and talk with him anytime," Ali invited him. "I’m going to see how he does with my band. I think he has the magic, but the question is does he have the stamina. I’ll get him toughened up, teach him some business savvy and slowly turn him loose."

That sounded like a good idea to Skinner; ease Marc into the music world instead of simply tossing him to the sharks to sink or swim on his own. Too many good musicians had been one-hit wonders, fallen to band in-fighting, bad management, the sophomore curse, and flying too high too fast and falling to a crash and burn.

Ali turned and hugged Mulder. "I’d kiss you if I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be in one piece for my next concert." He gave a scared look in Skinner’s direction.

"Grrrr," Skinner said half-heartedly. Mulder chuckled and brushed Ali’s mouth anyway before sending him on his way. Skinner wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He trusted Mulder but felt his gut slammed.

In the family room, Skinner laid on the couch while Mulder set up the DVD.

"Push over," Mulder said, laying in front of him. Skinner pressed back as far as he could while Mulder made himself comfortable in front. They spooned snuggly as Mulder pressed the play button. Skinner held him tight, his right hand laced with Mulder’s over Mulder’s stomach, his left hand carding Mulder’s soft, dark hair. Skinner nuzzled the hair and could feel Mulder smile and squeeze his fingers. Suddenly the movie had lost its appeal. Skinner found his way to Mulder’s ear and took a nip out of the tip and around the rim. Mulder tilted his head, inviting a more thorough exploration so Skinner kissed his way down the side of Mulder’s neck until he found a particularly velvety spot. He took a gentle bite and sucked at it, nibbling and licking until Mulder gave a small whimper. Skinner looked at the purple mark and gave it a final lick of approval before turning Mulder’s head sideways and capturing his mouth. Mulder tried to turn but Skinner held him fast, pinning him with a leg over Mulder’s. He released Mulder’s hand and slid his own into the front of Mulder’s sweats, through the crinkly hair, wrapping around the warm genitals. Mulder moaned into Skinner’s mouth and clutched at his forearm. Skinner rolled the soft penis and balls in his hand, knowing just how to get Mulder hard. He felt an odd sense of accomplishment when Mulder’s penis began to grow and harden in his palm. He shifted his hips a little and rubbed his own growing erection against Mulder’s ass as he stroked the man’s cock.

He caressed Mulder’s tongue with his own as he enjoyed the weight and feel of the hard organ in his hand. He moaned and plunged his tongue deeper into Mulder’s mouth. He vaguely registered the TV being shut off and the remote dropping to the floor. Part of Skinner was aware that he was behaving like an aggressive alpha, a barbarian in a far corner of his mind was shouting ‘mine!’ in a challenging bellow. Mulder tried to move, to participate, but Skinner held him in a vice grip, almost growling as he continued to rub himself against Mulder and stroke the cock that he felt tightening up for release. Skinner squeezed firmly, stroking insistently until Mulder cried out into his mouth. Skinner felt a hot burst of liquid against his hand. When he had rung the last of the semen from Mulder, he withdrew his hand and brought it to his mouth, licking the salty cream while they both breathed hard, catching their breath. Mulder grabbed the hand and drew his tongue across Skinner’s palm. Mulder’s cheeks were wet and Skinner wiped at them with his free hand.

Skinner lifted his leg and allowed Mulder to fall to the floor. Mulder got to his knees and tugged at Skinner’s sweats, pulling them down in the front just enough to bare a thick patch of dark hair and his erection. Skinner turned onto his back and watched Mulder take him into his mouth. He caught his breath as he felt himself enveloped in the moist heat. He put a hand on the back of Mulder’s neck, stroking his thumb over the small purple mark of possession as Mulder sucked at him, a calf eagerly pulling for the good stuff he knows is in there. Already at the edge from rubbing against Mulder, Skinner didn’t hold back, going with the tidal wave that was surging through him and crashing into Mulder’s mouth. Mulder drank greedily, refusing to allow a drop to escape, releasing Skinner only when his organ began to soften.

Mulder licked him clean and tucked him back into the sweats. He lay down, half draped over Skinner, resting his head on Skinner’s chest as they comforted each other.

"I love you," Mulder whispered huskily against Skinner’s chest, snuggling in. Skinner held him close, unprotesting of the man’s weight. He took Mulder’s left hand in his right, touching the gold band, falling asleep with whispers of ‘mine’ echoing in his head.

They awoke hours later to find that it was dark and someone had thrown a blanket over them. Without saying a word, Mulder reached down and into Skinner’s sweats, stroking Skinner’s penis until he was hard. Mulder pushed the blanket aside and slid to the floor again. He turned his back to Skinner and pulled at his sweats to bare his ass before lowering his face to the floor and waiting patiently. Skinner knelt behind him, accepting the offering, baring only his cock and entering Mulder slowly, mindful of the fact that Mulder was not lubed. He hissed at the tightness and waited for Mulder’s quivering muscles to relax before riding to completion and filling Mulder with his seed.

*****************

Twice more the made love before morning; once when they returned to their room and once in the shower. Before he left for work, Mulder kissed Skinner and said,

"I would never cheat on you."

Skinner nodded. "I know, Fox. I love you. I trust you."

The boys had watched curiously as they ate their oatmeal and blueberries. They knew something was up, but it was one of those strange grown-up somethings. Mulder gave them their good-byes and left with an admonishment to behave for Uncle Walter and Natti.

********************

"Walter, you’re corrupting my son!"

Skinner smirked at Carlo’s mock-indignant tone. "I would think that living in New York City with overly Italian Italians was corrupt enough," he responded.

"Oh, yeah, strike at the heart why don’t you? Fottiti. Listen, I actually called to tell you that I finally got an answer from the Board of Ed about the Charter idea. Being in Virginia, you have a major problem with it; according to Virginia law, you can only start a Charter school with the blessings of the local School Board. Which means, you have to convince them to allow you to take business away from them. Virginia is the 3^rd worst state in the union for Charters. Sorry, caro. All I can suggest is that you urge the local board to hire better teachers for your public school and to toughen up the curriculum and standards. Most schools use the basic national standards and don’t try any harder. Like a lazy student saying ‘I got a C, average is fine’." Carlo snorted his displeasure at the image. "I tell you, if one of my kids settled for..."

"Carlo!" Skinner interrupted the oncoming rant.

"Si?"

"I have a problem. I made a small fuck-up. Actually more of a semi-big fuck-up. How do I apologize to Fox without it seeming trite?"

"Well, if he was a girl, I’d say send flowers, but you can’t..."

"Perfect!" Skinner interrupted him. "Thanks, Carlo, let me call you back." Flowers –why didn’t he think of that? He dug out the phone book and called a florist close to the Hoover.

After walking the boys to school, and being joined halfway by Adam’s little friend Jennifer, (and watching them make calf eyes at each other the entire way), Skinner checked in with his office. There was nothing new going on and his paperwork was done, so he sat on the porch, chatting with passersby. KC was doing well, according to Ruvin. She was taking turns riding with him and John, learning about the town and meeting the people. According to Ruvin, a few of the more macho he-men were not very impressed, but so far none had tried to push any of her buttons.

Upon discovering that cousin KC had moved into town, Marc had promptly taken up residence in the second bedroom of Kyle’s house that KC was renting. Tensions eased between Marc and Dom, allowing them to talk peacefully with each other. When KC wasn’t working, she and Marc could be found hanging out together doing whatever it is that friends do together.

"Gay men make the best girlfriends," she had remarked to Skinner. "You don’t have to worry that they’re going to try and cop a feel, they’re not going to making a play for your friends, they have better taste in fashion and can be counted on to be sympathetic toward ‘men are pigs’ days."

Skinner had chuckled at the time, but he could see her point; he was a pig last night. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mulder handed him his pillow and sent him to the couch. He wasn’t normally a jealous person, he didn’t know what got into him.

"Walter."

He hadn’t noticed Harry ambling up the street toward him.

"Morning, Harry," Skinner greeted him. They shook hands and Harry sat at Skinner’s invitation. Harry put a box on the table and a stack of papers on top of the box.

"Sign these and you can have this," he said. Skinner took the proffered pen.

"What am I signing?" Skinner asked.

"Papers verifying that you’re you."

Skinner signed them, quickly glancing over them. They were simple identification forms for receiving a battered, old box.

A car door shut and he looked up to see John and KC walking toward the building with Manuel Garcia in tow.

"Puta!" Manuel shouted. KC yanked on his cuffed arms.

"None-a that, you," she ordered.

They greeted him and John went in to begin the report.

"Phew!" Harry waved at the air as the men walked past. "You could start a fire on those fumes."

"What’s with Manuel?" Skinner asked KC.

"Besides being drunk as a skunk? Seems he got into a fight with the Mizzez, which John says is normal, but this time he took a swing at her. Right on the front lawn. Neighbors called it in."

Harry decided he didn’t hear nothing nor see nothing –until Manuel woke up sober. He took the papers and left the police to their policing.

KC pulled up a chair and sat next to Skinner.

"Alright, tell Auntie K all about it," she said.

"About what?"

"Whatever it is that you did. You look like a man that fucked up, knows he fucked up, and is waiting for the shoe to drop."

How do they do that? he thought. His wife used to be able to do that, too, know when he did something. He stretched out his long legs and plucked at the denim.

"An old friend of Fox’s came for a visit yesterday," he admitted.

"I know, Marc told me about it. And?"

"I got jealous." He kicked his heel on the wooden deck.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And.. what did you do?" she looked at him as though he were a slow child.

"I.. well, to use a current phrase.. I topped him. I think that’s the correct usage." He had half listened to Mulder and Krycek speaking in ‘dungeon’ language one day. He was afraid to ask some of the terms; he was even afraid to ask how Mulder knew them.

"That’s the correct usage," she confirmed. KC took off her hat and popped him in the chest with it. He crossed his arms in protection and looked at her in shock. "If you were mine, you’d be in the doghouse for a hell of a long time. How was he behaving this morning before leaving for work?"

"He said he was fine and that he loved me," Skinner admitted.

"So you didn’t actually hurt him physically," she asked. Skinner shook his head.

"No, I just.. took him." He couldn’t look at her. First Emilia, then Scully, and now KC; what was it with these women?

"Did he fight you?"

"No! I would have stopped, I would never rape anyone!" he insisted, shocked that she would even consider it.

"Then maybe it’ll be alright," she said. "Maybe he likes to be topped once in a while and he couldn’t tell you?" she suggested.

"I don’t play those games. I’m a boring lover, really, ask my wife." He ignored the little voice in him that said he did enjoy tying Mulder up and using the feather on him.

"Somehow, I highly doubt that ‘boring’ is a word that can be applied to you," she said with a twist of her mouth. "The first thing you need to do is to ask yourself what exactly made you jealous of this friend and do something about it. Jealously is usually caused by a feeling of insecurity. What made you feel insecure around this man? Second, you need to have a long talk with Mulder. He may be hiding some needs out of respect for your personal choices. If he is, that isn’t fair to either of you and not healthy for your relationship in the long run."

Skinner turned in his chair to look fully at her. She saw the look and shrugged.

"Who needs a Psych degree when you’ve got Cosmo magazine?"

He leaned his head backwards and spoke to the overhang.

"First of all, I’m aware of my problem with this man; he’s very handsome, sexy, talented, is richer than Midas, and he was Fox’s first man. There’s nothing I can do to change any of that, I’m aware of that so I’ll just have to learn to deal with it. Fox hasn’t seen him in a long time, so I guess that should tell me something.

"Second, even if Fox did want to play games in the bedroom, there’s only so much we can do with a house full of kids." He had an image of the boys walking into their room to find Mulder tied to the bed.

"Bullshit," KC informed him.

"Excuse me?"

"Bull... shit," she annunciated. "A) if you’re worried about noise, change their rooms around. Mulder has his own little office downstairs across from Natti’s room, right? Switch the rooms. Put the twins in the office and move the office upstairs. Put some extra carpeting on the floor, a few decorative throw-rugs soak up a lot of sound. B) couples play games all the time with kids in the house. Don’t be inhibited by kids, all it will do is tell them that you’re doing something wrong and they will grow up thinking that sex is something secretive, if not wrong all together."

"We’re open with the boys," he protested. "We talk to them all the time about it, we kiss in front of them, we don’t hide our bodies from them..."

KC shook her head. "I’m not talking about love, Walter, I’m talking about Sex. Now, I’m not suggesting that you actually do anything in front of them, of course not; but they can sense when something isn’t as it should be. They watch TV, practically every show is inundated with sex. Just turn on a soap. Some day soon, they will begin to notice that there is a difference and wonder why you don’t behave like those other people do. They love you, they look to you for guidance. If they see that you don’t do something, then those other people must be wrong. You can’t let them grow up thinking sex is wrong. Sex is fun, it doesn’t have to get all lovey-dovey and it’s alright for them to know that." She patted his hand.

"Listen, I know what I’m talking about," she said. "My mother is 58 and Dad is 62, they still think they’re 20. I learned to pull a pillow over my head at night when things got loud and to tease them about waking the dead when we got up for breakfast in the morning. They’d laugh, turn a little red, and kiss each other hot enough to sizzle the bacon. I have 5 brothers and 2 sisters; believe me, they had a grand ol’ time ‘practicing’ for the perfect conception. Bobby is the favorite, Mom said she had the best orgasm conceiving him."

Skinner laughed and KC stood up, pleased with herself. She leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of his head.

"Have fun, Walter," she advised him and went into the station.

*****************

After verifying with Scully that Mulder would be home on time, Skinner kicked out Natti and the boys for the evening, sending them on a pizza, ice cream and movie sleep-over party at KC’s. The boys raced to dig out their sleeping bags, pillows and fresh jammies.

Skinner had started to set the table for two and Natti swatted his hand, taking the plates away from him.

"Not those," she said, putting them back in the cabinet. She handed him another set of plates. "Use these."

He saw that they were her ‘good china special occasion’ plates.

"Spasiba," he said. She smiled and patted his cheek. She hadn’t asked, but like all the women in his life, she seemed to know that something was going on. He was beginning to believe that all women were psychic and that it was the biggest secret kept from men throughout the history of the world.

He checked the oven, noting that the lamb chops were almost perfect and checked the time. A little after 6. He had time for a quick shower and to change his clothes.

Coming back down stairs, he tucked his dress shirt into his slacks, leaving the top three buttons undone. Mulder liked his fur. The slacks were a little tight. Mulder liked his butt. And he left his shoes off. Mulder liked his feet. Which he still hadn’t been able to fathom.

He had just finished setting the serving dishes on the table and lighting the candles when the door opened.

"What’s this?" Mulder asked, putting his briefcase on the couch. "Smells good, candles, no sounds of little feet running to knock me down," he kissed Skinner lightly and set his flower basket on the table, keeping hold of his teddy bear. "Is this a seduction? Because if so, you’ll need to get permission from my husband."

"Already been granted," Skinner said. He searched those hazel eyes but could only find bemusement, love and acceptance. He put his arms around Mulder’s waist and buried his face in Mulder’s neck.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice cracking with pent-up guilt. Mulder put his arms around Skinner’s neck, shushing him, holding him for several minutes until Skinner calmed down. Mulder took him by the ears and pulled his head up.

"I told you, you didn’t hurt me. I could have stopped you if I wanted to." Skinner found himself being thoroughly kissed. Mulder tore his mouth away when they both needed air. "Let’s eat, we can discuss this later."

Skinner nodded and wiped at his face. He sniffed and looked around. He forgot napkins so he turned and headed into the laundry room. It was dark, almost impossible to see, but he knew his way around so he left the light off. The linen napkins were already folded, sitting on top of the dryer. Before he could exit the room, he was shoved up against the washer from behind, the rim of the machine digging into his stomach as he was bent forward.

"What....?"

One arm was yanked backwards and held in a steel grip. He began to struggle until he felt the unmistakable bulge of a groin against his ass. He stopped, trying to catch his breath. A hand reached around to the front and unfastened his pants. They were pulled down roughly, he could hear a seam ripping. He was pushed down further, his face mashed against the cold metal of the machine, his arm still held in the vice grip.

A hand moved behind him and he heard a zipper being lowered. The sound of rapid masturbation was heard. He shut his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. A hand parted one cheek and a thickness pushed at his entrance. He winced at the pain but it subsided as he was pumped into with fast, hard motions. The grunts behind him were loud in his ears. Skinner spread his legs for better balance and his penis pressed up against the washer, the cold of the metal doing nothing to diminish it’s swelling nor the familiar heat that started to build in his groin. He held on to the edge of the washer with his free hand and pushed his ass out eagerly to meet the harsh thrusts. The hard cock within him brushed his prostate and he moaned out loud. He wanted more.

His pubes were caught in a gripping fist and he cried out, once, as he was pulled back to meet a slamming thrust. The washer threatened to tip over with the force of their combined weight. The fist released his hair and his penis was encircled and fisted quickly, pulled on with a strength that threatened to pull it off completely. The cock inside of him rammed deep as an orgasm hit, sending a hot blast into his body. He yelled as his own orgasm erupted, coating the side of the washing machine.

Skinner’s arm was released and he stretched it slowly, wincing at the kinks and the protesting muscles. A forehead rested against his back, both of them breathing hard, neither of them moving until Skinner felt the softening penis slip out of him. he could feel a warm river on his thighs. The light was turned on and he shut his eyes from the sudden glare. A clean towel was used to wipe him down. He kicked off his torn slacks.

"Why didn’t you free yourself?" a soft voice asked behind him.

"I knew it was you," he said. "I know your hands, your scent.. the feel of your penis. I trust you not to...." Skinner spun around and faced Mulder, realization striking as his heart threatened to jump out of his chest. "I.. trust you.. not to hurt me."

Mulder stroked his cheek with a gentle hand.

"Now do you understand?"

*****************

They lay in bed, stomachs full, hearts sated. Skinner’s cheek rested on Mulder’s belly, the fingers of one hand slowly twirling through the sparse chest hair as he opened a small, very old diary from the box. He set the book aside; it was in Hungarian. He picked up an envelope that looked fairly new.

"Walter," Mulder broke the comfortable silence. He set his own book aside. "Why did Ali make you jealous? I’ve flirted with both Scully and Alex in front of you and it’s never bothered you. Granted, I wouldn’t do anything with Alex, but I have slept with Scully."

Skinner set the envelope down. He turned his head and kissed Mulder’s stomach before settling his cheek in again. "I’m not quite sure, Fox," he responded. "Maybe because I realized that he’s everything I’m not. He’s younger, better looking, rich, and I had a sudden image of you running to him with just the crook of a finger. I know I’m too old to be feeling like that..."

Mulder brushed his mouth with a hand, stopping Skinner’s speech.

"Let’s forget the fact that Ali is happily in love with his wife," he said. "I love you, Walter, try and get that through your thick head." Mulder knocked at Skinner’s dome.

"Yes, he’s younger, he will always be younger. When he’s 53, he will still be younger than you. And he isn’t all that perfect, physically. He’s got those skinny British chicken legs under those perfectly designed jeans and leather pants, practically no body hair to speak of, and although he knows how to use it, his penis is only 5 inches and about two fingers around. As for being rich, what more do I need? Do I look like a clothes horse to you? Do I beg for jewels or expensive do-hickies? Do I collect cars? Going on a picnic in the woods or the park with you and the boys is the highlight of my life, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world. I married you, you idiot."

Skinner pulled himself up and kissed Mulder, turning them so that Mulder was resting on Skinner’s torso. Mulder lowered his hips, their genitals touching, as he entered Skinner’s mouth with his tongue. Skinner lay still, running his finger tips across Mulder’s butt. Mulder wiggled in pleasure and Skinner felt the old man awakening down there. Skinner broke the kiss.

"I want to ask you something. And I want you to answer me honestly, no holding back out of some sense of consideration or anything like that," he said. Mulder nodded his agreement, propping himself up on his elbows at either side of Skinner’s head.

"Are there times when you want something a little different but you don’t want to ask me for it?"

He waited as Mulder formulated his answer.

"Yes, sometimes," Mulder finally said. Skinner swallowed and wet his suddenly dry lips.

"Why don’t you ask me?" his cleared his throat when it turned husky.

"Because, it isn’t important enough for me to mess with your personal wishes."

Skinner slid his hands up to Mulder’s back and pulled him down, holding him tight.

"My personal wishes, Fox, are for you to be honest with me at all times, in all matters. Let me be the one to decide what I will do and what I won’t do. There is very little that I would refuse you. I’m not an innocent, Fox, I’ve seen my share of adult materials and working in our business, I’ve certainly seen my share of just about every walk of life." He lifted Mulder’s head to look into his lover’s eyes.

"Let’s make a new rule: we are honest with each other in our needs. Give each other the choice to refuse or agree."

Mulder nodded.

"What I will refuse outright is this: humiliation games, anything involving anything other than semen, pain –hard pain, animals or anyone underage."

Mulder propped himself up again, speculation overtaking his previous doubts.

"That leaves a hell of a lot of territory, Walter," he commented. Skinner stroked his fingers through Mulder’s hair.

"I’m not a prude, tesoro, I freely admit that I enjoy sex. I think that we got caught up in discovering each other and forgot that we can laugh when we love each other, we can have fun. Someone told me recently to have fun. Fox, can I have fun with you?"

Mulder smiled slowly.

"Absolutely, Walter."

****************

The stadium hummed with the energy of 100,000 fans waiting for their hero. The security guard walked rapidly through the milling stage hands who were rushing for last minute changes and making sure that everything was perfect. The guard pointed a finger at a closed door where several more guards were standing, well, standing guard. They examined the passes suspiciously but allowed the men through. Mulder knocked but with all the noise of the people outside, he couldn’t hear anything. He knocked again. Minutes later, the door was opened.

"Uncle Fox!" a teenage boy flung his thin arms around Mulder.

"God, Ian, look at you!" Mulder exclaimed, holding the boy out to check him over. "You’re going to be taller than your father," he predicted.

"Already six foot," a woman’s voice said with the weary tones of a mother. "Hello, luv, give us a hug." She held out her arms and Mulder stepped into them without a moment’s hesitation. He squeezed hard, lifting her off the floor for a moment and setting her back down with a smack on her rounded apple cheek. Skinner watched them, waiting politely in the back ground. The woman’s face shone with the glow of an English rose in her cheeks. She had curves that a Renaissance master would swoon over, but Ali didn’t seem to mind as he came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. Skinner looked around at the six children in the room and assumed that she earned her curves on the battle field. Ali smacked a kiss on the back of her neck, making her giggle.

"My luv, this is Walter Skinner, Fox’s partner," Ali introduced them. "Walter, this is my mistress, my owner, my slave-driver, Sylvia. My wife, my lover, my best friend."

Skinner shook her hand and was then introduced to the children, four of whom Mulder hadn’t met yet.

"Five minutes!" someone shouted as they pounded on the door. Ali released his wife and rushed for his jacket.

"Da!" Megan held out a flashy blue piece of material. Ali gratefully took it and slipped it on.

Mulder and Skinner rushed themselves back to their seats. The mob was pounding their feet, demanding that the show begin. A special V.I.P. box seat was reserved for whomever the star of the show desired to give it to and at the moment, it was filled with Carlo, Dom, KC, and Scully. Krycek had arrived home just that morning with no excuse as to his whereabouts except to hand Skinner a jar of fresh dates straight from Egypt; with no customs stamp, Skinner had noted. Krycek and Scully were sitting at opposite ends of the box, pointedly ignoring each other. Skinner hoped that they didn’t bring guns. He was a little concerned, though, that Krycek seemed to know how to handle the video camera like a pro. By special permission, they had received authorization to record the concert. The rest of the box was filled with thirty cousins who assumed that they were on a ‘getting to know you’ outing with Skinner. He knew Carlo’s daughters, Christiana and Anna Maria, and Mario and Dolores, the rest were mostly 20-somethings, Marc’s peers. Carlo, Dom, KC and the girls were sworn to secrecy and from what Skinner could see, they kept the secret well. Skinner had instructed them to bring mostly Marc’s detractors. Keep your enemies closer....

The lights went down and the audience erupted. Skinner slid his hand between Mulder’s thighs to rest possessively as Mulder whistled and yelled his share of the noise along with the younger cousins. He couldn’t hear what the announcer was saying, but the opening beat of a drum was unmistakable. The colored gels came up and the band took their place. Only those in the Know spotted Marc on the base, the others were too excited waiting for Ali to appear. Skinner heard one of the girls squeak behind him and get shushed by her sister. Ali ran out and immediately broke into the opening song without a greeting to the crowd.

After three songs, Skinner had to admit that the man knew how to work a crowd. Ali had calmed the hysterical frenzy into semi-civilized fans who clapped and sang along with him, a few dancing in the isles.

At the end of the third song, Ali stopped for a breath. He laughed at something a fan in the front said.

"Make an appointment with my wife," he said into the microphone. The crown erupted. He allowed them to go on for a minute before waving his hands at them.

"Alright, you lot, pipe down," he ordered. The crowd cheered and hooted at him. He tried several times to say something, but someone toward the front kept screeching. He walked off to the side and picked up something bright orange from a stool. He pumped it a few times and released a stream of water in the direction of the screamer. "Done?" he asked. The screamer was silent but the rest roared with laughter.

"Now, as I was saying," Ali said into the mic. He raised the super soaker but no one peeped. He nodded approvingly. "Some of you more observant types may have noted my new base player. This is his first concert, so be nice to him. Come here, Marky," he held out an arm.

The box went silent as the cousins lost their voices, staring in disbelief. Skinner squeezed Mulder’s leg. It worked!

"Name, boy," Ali demanded. Marc bent his head to the mic.

"Marco DeLuca, your lordship," he said. The crowd erupted once more.

"Age?"

"22"

"Married?"

"Someone got to you first."

Ali dropped his arm from Marc’s shoulders as he turned away in laughter. The crowd sent their approval as the stadium thundered. Ali turned back, wiping tears of laughter from his face.

"Alright!" he waved the audience to quiet down. "Where you from?"

"SOUTHSIDE!" Marc raised his arms in salute of his home town. As the crowd cheered, the band broke into a rousing round of ‘New York, New York’ which the audience joined in on with cheerful abandon.

"Now, Marc," Ali raised the super soaker and the crowd behaved.

"Marky!" came a shout from behind Skinner. Ali raised the soaker up to the box but Marc lowered it.

"No, Ali, that’s just my sister, Chrissy," he said. Ali perked up.

"Sister? Is she pretty?" he asked.

"Why, you need a date?" Marc asked in return. Movement on the side of the stage brought round of laughter from the audience. Sylvia stood on the stage with another soaker, this one aimed at Ali.

"AHH!" Ali yelped and jumped behind Marc, holding him out as a shield. "Hullo, pookie," he smiled and batted his eyelashes at his wife.

Sylvia stepped up to the mic at the keyboard.

"Just sing, darling," she advised.

"May Marc sing first?" he asked timidly.

"Yes, he may," she granted him and turned to leave the stage, the soaker held at her shoulder, a rifle at rest.

The lights went down and the crowd quieted. The opening guitar was familiar to Skinner, and Mulder took his hand, threading their fingers together in a weave that would never be broken.

Marc sat on the edge of a stool with his old battered guitar and sang the song he wrote for his older cousin. Skinner lifted their hands and brought Mulder’s gold band to his mouth for a moment.

Skinner could feel the raw power pour out of the sound equipment as the shy boy he knew began to transform into the man that would turn the music industry on it’s collective ear. Ali didn’t know it yet, but the King was dead –long live the King!

****************

Marc stopped to chat with his family in the parking lot until a limo pulled up and Ali stepped out. He shook hands with Carlo and the girls, waved at Mulder and Skinner, and hustled Marc into the car.

"Holy shit," one of the cousins breathed. Krycek handed the video tape to Carlo.

"That’s an invaluable collector’s item," he said. "Get it burned onto a disc. If you sell it, just remember that I get dibs on 70 percent of the royalties."

The haggling started with a loud protest from Carlo.

"70?! Are you crazy??"

Skinner drew Mulder away. Mulder suddenly jumped as a hand connected with his butt.

"Hey!" he yelped, rubbing the effected area. Scully kissed his cheek and handed him a wrapped package.

"Happy birthday, Mulder," she said, giving a wave as she walked to her car. "That was one, Walter, he gets 41 more!" she called over her shoulder. Mulder saw the gleam in Skinner’s eyes and ran in the opposite direction amidst encouraging cheers from the cousins. Unfortunately for Mulder, it was Skinner they were encouraging.

***************

They lay in bed, filled with cake and ice cream that Natti had surprised Mulder with. He had insisted on not having a party, but the boys over-ruled him. Hand made birthday cards and other assorted drawings decorated their bedroom, along with the Looney Toons PJ’s that Mulder had on the lower half of his body. Bug’s carrot was held in an interesting spot over Mulder’s groin.

Skinner re-read a paragraph of the letter that he had taken from the old box. The letter was one of the few things in the box that was in English. He burst out laughing.

"What?" Mulder asked. Skinner held the letter out to him.

"It seems that not only was my father born out of wedlock, he converted! And lied about it! His parents, my grandparents, were not German Catholics, they were Hungarian Jews!"

Skinner roared with laughter.

End.