Their new home was livable, it only needed a few structural repairs, mostly on the outside. Skinner went with Mulder to the warehouse where his parents' furniture was being stored and they went through everything. Antiques and children didn't mix well, but they took Teena Mulder's bedframe, dining room table, and chairs, along with the kitchen supplies. They then went through Bill Mulder's things and took out the couch, livingroom chairs, an armoire, and bedroom dressers. Lamps, some nicknacks and various small odds and ends came from both. Mulder then dug out his own old leather couch and smiled at it, patting it. Skinner reminded himself that he loved Mulder and would do anything for him.

Skinner watched Mulder touching his parents' things, the emotions that ran across his face.

"Babe, we can take it all, I don't mind," he said quietly. Mulder shook his head.

"No. I'm just remembering them, that's all," he said. "Mom's stuff is a little too feminine for me. Dad's stuff just isn't my taste. The rest wouldn't survive the kids and animals. Besides, I'm not an antiques type of person. Except my preference for older men, of course."

Skinner squeezed his shoulder in passing.

"I think I'll see if Scully would like a few things," Mulder said. "There's no point in my keeping this stuff, is there?"

"That's up to you, Fox," Skinner said. "You can keep it for the memories, for the quality of the things. If you think you might want something later on, by all means keep it. If not, sell it or give it away. Do what you think is best with it."

Mulder lifted a tarp and sat on a couch. He bent and sniffed at the headrest before caressing the fabric.

"I can almost make out the smell of his tobacco," Mulder said. "He liked a pipe in the evenings. He'd sit out on the porch and puff away, looking at the stars. I'd sit with him and he'd tell me the names of the constellations, or tell me which animals were making the nighttime noises. This was before Sam was taken. Mom didn't like him to smoke in the house. He'd come in after, still smelling like pipe tobacco. I think I'll take this couch. It looks like shit, but I'd like to put it in my office."

"Sure, Fox," Skinner said. "Where were you planning on putting your old one?"

"In the library, of course," Mulder said. That's what Skinner was afraid of.

On their way to the new house, Mulder was the first to notice a light on at Dom's place.

"Think he's home?" Mulder asked. Skinner pulled up to the driveway.

"He'd better be, or else it's a B&E," he said.

They knocked on the front door but there was no answer. Both men pulled their guns and Skinner tried the knob. It was unlocked and they went in.

"Anyone here?" Skinner called out. "Dom? This is the Sheriff, speak up!"

There was no response. They heard a faint noise from upstairs and they carefully climbed the staircase. Skinner was about to turn right at the top of the stairs, but another noise made him turn left. The sounds were coming from Dominic's room.

"Dom?" he called out. "It's Walter and Fox."

He knocked on the door.

"Come in," he heard. They lowered their guns in relief. It was Dom's voice and he didn't sound distressed.

Skinner opened the door and saw his cousin folding clothes and putting them into a box that was sitting on the bed.

"Hey," Skinner said quietly.

"Hey."

"Everyone's been worried about you."

Dom continued to put clothes into the box.

"Soooo.... How are you?" Skinner tried again.

"Fine," came the non-responsive answer.

Dom took t-shirts from a drawer and put them into the box.

"Where's your collar, Dom?" Mulder asked.

"In Rome," Dom said, heading for the closet.

"Dom, please, stop and talk to us," Skinner begged him.

The atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a knife. Skinner heard a roaring in his ears. Could the unthinkable have happened?

"Were you fired, Dom?" he could barely ask.

"Si. Finito." Pants followed the t-shirts into the box. Dom began to tape the full box shut.

"Oh, my.... but why?" Skinner asked, appalled.

"Because I refused to retract my statements," Dom said. He started another box.

Skinner strode up to him urgently.

"Dominic, you have to!" he insisted. "Take it back, whatever they want! Your entire life is with the Church!"

Dom sat on the bed abruptly, hands between his opened knees, staring at the floor.

"My life is with my God, Walt," he said after a moment. "My faith is with God, and if He chooses to lead me away from the Church in order for me to do His bidding, then so be it."

"Dom, this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't asked you to write that report," Skinner said, squatting down in front of him. "Please. Don't do this."

Dom smiled, a little sadly, and patted Skinner on the cheek.

"You've always done that," he said. "Even when me and Mario were taking your ice cream cones, you'd still offer to share your dessert with us. You should have been the Priest. I love you, Walter, but this is my decision. None of the blame is yours, so don't take any of it."

He stood and went back to his packing.

"This is my fight, Dom," Mulder said quietly. "This shouldn't have happened to you."

"Don't you start, too," Dom said. "I won't lie, Fox. I believe everything that I wrote. I see no division between the beliefs that I hold to be true and whatever's out there." He jerked his chin toward the ceiling. "Just because God didn't bother telling us about his side projects, doesn't mean they don't exist. I do believe in our Messiah. I also believe that He either came, or will come, to any and every sentient life form, in whatever form they will best recognize Him in. We see God in our own image. Isn't that what the Bible teaches us? So if we had big black eyes and we were short and gray, wouldn't Jesus be also? I'm afraid the Holy Father disagrees with me."

"So what will you do now?" Skinner asked.

Dom tossed an armful of socks into the box.

"I don't know," he said. "First, I'm going home and begging Mama's forgiveness. If she kicks me out, I might be showing up on your doorstep. After that, I don't know."

"The Protestants are pretty open minded about all this," Mulder said helpfully. "So are the Unitarians, for that matter. Then there are the non-Denominational churches."

Dom chuckled, wrapping up some belts.

"That's kinda like offering your wife to someone on the eve of his divorce," he said. "But I understand what you're saying. And it is a consideration. Don't worry, fellas, I'll be fine. Listen, give me some space, ok, guys?"

Skinner shook himself and stepped back.

"Yeah, sure, Dom," he said. Mulder stepped back toward the door.

Dom turned and hugged Skinner tightly, holding him for a moment.

"Not one ounce of this is on you, Walter," Dom assured him. "I made my own decisions and I will stand by them. Fox?" he turned to Mulder. "I do believe in your work. A case could be made that you even saved the world. But even more importantly -I may disagree with your lifestyle, but I know that you love my baby cousin. I can only bless you for that. Continue to love him, and let me deal with my own soul's rumblings."

Mulder held out his hand. Dom shook it.

"Dom?" Skinner said from the door. "We've moved. Just up the street, you're welcome at any time. There's plenty of room. At least stop in and see Carlo on your way." He gave Dom the address and directions. "He and Natti are engaged."

That caught Dom's attention.

"Really?" he asked with a look of astonishment.

They nodded. "It really wasn't much of a surprise," Skinner said. Dom conceded the point.

"Hmpf. Good for them. Carlo deserves it. He's a good man. And I like Natti, she'll keep him in line. I'll stop and see him," he said.

"Dom, do you like Matthew Fox?" Mulder asked. Dom turned and gave him a half smile.

"Love Matthew Fox," he said. He gave a nod to Mulder, acknowledging his help to a new path.

The men left Dom to his packing. Skinner boiled with anger on Dom's behalf, and guilty that he did indeed have something to do with Dom's dismissal.

"Who's Matthew Fox?" Skinner asked Mulder as they got into the van.

"Ex-Priest," Mulder said. "He and the Church parted company a long time ago when they disagreed on Father Matthew's interpretation of the Bible." He turned his head, looking at Skinner. "Actually, I think you might like him. I have a book on my.... never mind. I have to go and get another copy. I'm getting you a copy of his book called 'Original Blessing'. I have a feeling you'll find something in it that will speak to you."

Skinner frowned. "Fox, I don't want to..." he began. Mulder shushed him and squeezed his thigh.

"Babe, don't give me that," Mulder said with a shake of his head. "I know you too well. You miss having that special Something in you life. You accept a little of Emilia's side of the fence, and you accept a little of the Catholic side of the fence, whether or not you admit it. Don't argue with me until after you've read this book."

Skinner found himself reluctantly promising.

"But if you try and convert me, I'm going back to Scully," Mulder warned with a shake of his finger. Skinner smiled and caught the finger, giving the tip a nip.

"Just so long as you don't go to Alex," Skinner said.

Mulder wrinkled his nose. "Incest is NOT best," he said vehemently. They turned into the long driveway.

"But once upon a time....." Skinner sing-songed.

"Yeah, yeah," Mulder said, waving a hand. "Before I knew, when I had first met him, maybe. I'll give you that."

Skinner chuckled and turned the engine off. "The image of you and Alex together...." he said, wonderingly. Mulder turned and Skinner put up his arms to fend him off, but he just sat there with a smirk on his face.

"You, however, are not related by blood to him," Mulder said. "I can picture him pounding your ass."

Skinner unlocked the door and stepped out.

"Once upon a time, Fox," he said and shut the door. It took a minute, but Mulder ran after him insisting on clarification. Skinner wasn't giving it to him.

"What's going on?" the object of their discussion asked, coming out of the kitchen.

"Nothing," Skinner said. "Help us with furniture?"

The boys ran in at the sound of their voices and clamored around the men. Skinner put them to work by carrying small, light stuff. He whistled to Kisa who barked excitedly and followed him back out.

"Fox," Krycek called him over. "I fell asleep today and took a nap. I had the strangest dream. I dreamed that Walter shot me. About five years ago. You weren't with the FBI anymore, Scully was having an alien baby, I was torturing Walter, and he shot me."

"You were torturing me about five years ago," Skinner said, opening the back door of the van. Krycek waved him off.

"And it has been about five years since the baby died," Mulder reminded him. "Maybe your subconscious was remembering that and you overlapped events. You felt that Walter should have shot you because you were a very naughty boy." Mulder shook Krycek's shoulders in emphasis.

Krycek nodded thoughtfully, scratching at his stubble.

"And Fox was out for a while," Skinner said. "Until the Director over-ruled that as... idiot Kersh." He looked around for little ears but they were too busy nosing through the moving van that he had rented.

Krycek nodded again.

"Now him I should have shot," Krycek said. "He was an idiot. The world's gene pool would have been spared."

"Shot who, Alex?" Mr. Big Ears asked.

"It was just a video game, Pavie," Skinner assured him with a warning look at Krycek who sucked in his lips and zipped them.

"Oh, ok," Pavel said, a little disappointed.

"Hey!" Skinner yelled. He grabbed Pavel and turned him upside down, dangling him in the air. "I don't believe I've had kisses today," he gruffly informed the giggling child. He held Pavel up and put a smack on the upside down face before lowering the boy to the ground. Pavel's round cheeks were red and flushed, his green eyes shining.

"Silly, Popi," Pavel said. He ran into the yard, Kisa chasing him and barking her pleasure.

"Thank you, Walter," Krycek said softly.

"For what?" Skinner asked. He handed a cushion to Ivan, put a smack on his cheek, and a lamp to Adam who held his face up for some sugar, too. They carefully carried them into the house.

"For loving him," Krycek said, lifting a chair. He followed the boys in.

Skinner was still for a moment.

"You know what, Fox?" he said.

"What, babe?" Mulder said.

"He is going to kill me. With surprise."

They spent their first full night in their new home. It was still a bit on the empty side, even with all the furniture they brought in, but at least it was theirs. In the darkness, with the moonlight shining through the window, Mulder made love to Skinner, their limbs quietly rustling the sheets, their soft gasps and moans barely making a squeak in the night as they consecrated their marriage bed.

In the morning, Skinner stepped out of their room and looked around at the main livingroom. The wooden floors gleamed, glass windows sparkled. The house was huge, almost three times the size of their previous one. And the spirit of Teena Mulder thought they were going to fill it? Skinner highly doubted it.

The phone rang, echoing across the wooden floors.

"Skinner," he answered.

"Good morning, Sheriff," he heard KC greet him, entirely too cheerful for that hour of the morning. "Baby is stuck in the tree again. I think it's your turn." His deputy hung up on him. Skinner groaned. Maybe he should give Krycek permission to go and do some target practice on that demon cat.

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

At lunch time, Skinner walked into the kitchen just in time to see Mulder coat a pickle with peanut butter and take a bite of it. Skinner stopped short, wrinkling his nose.

"I'm pregnant," Mulder said around chipmunk cheeks. The boys giggled. Skinner came in and grabbed an apple from the counter.

"A sterile man making another man pregnant; after everything you've thrown at me over the years, I'll buy it." Skinner bit into his apple while giving Kisa a scratch on the head.

"You would?" Adam asked, believing him.

"Sure," Skinner nodded. "Your father has told me about giant alligators in the middle of a forest, ghosts, demons, time traveling, shape-shifting aliens, flying cows, and your Aunt Dana singing to him. I can believe in a pregnant man."

The boys looked at him wide-eyed and jaws unhinged.

"Daddy, are you pregnant?" Adam asked Mulder seriously. Mulder choked on his pickle and threw his napkin at Skinner.

"No, I'm not," he insisted. "Don't listen to Uncle Walter, he tells even bigger whoppers than I do."

Adam rolled his eyes and went back to his sandwich.

"Hallo," a woman's voice said, coming into the kitchen.

"Ya'el," Skinner greeted her. Mulder raised his pickle in salute.

"Want a pickle?" he asked. "They're kosher."

She raised an eyebrow. Skinner thought he detected a hint of humor.

"That's good, but I'm not Orthodox," she said. She leaned over the table and took his pickle. "I even like bacon," she said in a stage whisper, taking a bit.

Skinner still didn't know what to make of her. She was just a slip of a thing, barely five feet tall, certainly not over one hundred pounds, not even dripping wet. Short black hair, black eyes, olive skin. A Sabra woman, if he remembered his phrasing correctly. But if she was Krycek's opposite in Israel, she was as deadly as Krycek. Skinner had in mind two Black Widow spiders mating. He also wondered if she was the reason Krycek winced when he sat down at breakfast that morning.

"Ya'el, do you have any kids?" Ivan asked her as she sat next to him.

"No, I don't," she answered him.

"Do you want kids?" he asked.

"Not particularly," she said. "Why?"

Ivan shrugged. "Just wonderin'," he said. She looked at the twins and then shook her head, not saying anything. Skinner knew what she was thinking, 'how alike they are!'.

The twins didn't know what to make of her, either. She was nice to them, but so far she had resisted even Ivan's charms.

She held the rest of her pickle up to the boys.

"Kavhamutz," she said, indicating the pickle. They giggled and repeated the word.

"Karikh," she said, poking Pavel's sandwich. She lifted an edge and swiped at the peanut butter. "Boten," she said, licking the sticky stuff from her finger. The boys repeated the words.

"Tov," she nodded approvingly, standing up. She left the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel on her way out.

Mulder looked at Skinner.

"Honey, I don't think she'd do as our new nanny," he said. Skinner agreed. The boys finished their lunch and ran off to play.

"Too bad Natti isn't here," Skinner said. He leaned in over the table. "I could use a nooner," he whispered with a gleam in his eyes. Mulder answered his gleam with one of his own and met him halfway across the table. Skinner kissed him and drew back, wiping his mouth.

"Babe, I love you, but I think I'm drawing the line at pickles and peanut butter."

"Chicken." Mulder went to find his toothbrush.

"What's a nooner?"

Skinner groaned and buried his face on the table as Pavel waited for his answer.

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

Everyone seemed happy to have Skinner back in uniform. Almost everyone. There were a few here and there that ignored him, glared at him, or deliberately turned their backs on him. He didn't really care, as long as they behaved. He drove out to check in on Emilia.

"You ruined my fun, Skinner," she informed him when she opened the door.

"How so?" he asked, stepping into the house.

"I didn't get the chance to play campaign manager. You stole my fire. And I have one other thing to say to you."

Skinner sat on the couch, picking up a nearby cat and scratching it between the ears.

"What?" he asked.

She fell into a chair opposite him.

"It should be illegal for you to wear clothes," she grinned wickedly at him.

Skinner flushed and put the cat down.

She reached over and patted his knee. "No, seriously, Walter, how are you and Mulder doing?"

"We're fine," he nodded. "I don't understand how we could have gotten so messed up, or how we were fixed, but things are good again."

"Playing muskrats again, are you?" she asked.

"As often as possible," he returned her fire. "And what's this I hear about you going celibate?"

She rolled her eyes. "Alex," she guessed. "It's not a big deal. I do a fasting every year. Something different each year. Something that I enjoy. It helps me to appreciate what it is that I'm enjoying and to give a fuller blessing for having it in my life. Last year it was chocolate. I fudged a couple of times, no pun intended, but I lost fifty pounds over the year, and I feel a hell of a lot better. I'll probably be putting it back on this year," she said ruefully.

Skinner could sympathize. "I don't think I have the willpower to give up chocolate or sex," he said. "I've been working out at the station in the mornings. I keep a punching bag there. You're welcome to come over, and I'll show you how to use it. I think you're beautiful the way you are, but if you're concerned about yourself, you're welcome to join me. It's a good aerobic."

"Thank you," she said. "Actually, I take a kick-boxing class twice a week."

The sweet Southern Bell image flew out the door.

They spent another hour discussing form and technique before Skinner went back to his rounds. It felt strange, but good to be back in uniform, checking on the town. He tossed Tommy Lee into the can and he knew he was back where he was supposed to be.

After dinner, the family headed into the city. Bethany was doing much better and her doctors gave an ok for a brief visit from the boys. They were excited and insisted on bringing her presents, so Skinner stopped off at a department store where the boys chose a gift for her.

"How about a board game?" Adam suggested. "It's wrapped and her doctors and nurses can play with her. The other sick kids, too."

Skinner ruffled his hair. "That's a terrific idea," he told the boy. They looked the games over but couldn't decide. Skinner called Stephanie and went over games with her. They didn't have Monopoly, of all things.

"It'll help Amanda with numbers, if nothing else," Mulder said. They bought the old family board game, and had it gift wrapped. The boys were happy.

Bethany was pleased to see them. Her grandparents were not.

She sat in a chair, hooked up to an IV, wearing a paper face mask. Skinner thought she looked a hell of a lot better than she did just weeks earlier. She was also completely hairless. Not thin and brittle, but a completely shaved skull. Her grandparents were definitely not happy.

"I had spots with no hair, spots with a little hair, and spots with a lot of hair," she said. "So I took some scissors and cut it all off." She was quite defiant and pleased with herself.

"I think you look good," Skinner said with a nod. He stroked his head. "Not that I'm biased, mind you. You have a well formed head, it makes you look elegant."

She dug into a box of things and came up with one of those baby headbands. She put it on and giggled behind her mask.

"Perfect!" Skinner clapped. He could practically hear the Major grinding his teeth down to the gums.

"It was kinda raggity but when Mommy saw it, she yelled at me and had a tech come in and shave my head.," she said. "She said when I'm all better, I'm grounded for a month."

"You look just like Popi!" Ivan declared.

The Major went into the bathroom and took a long gulp of water.

"But with a pretty nose, thank goodness," Skinner said, touching the tip of her nose poking up through the face mask with his finger.

"I don't know, I kinda like your smushed nose," Mulder said, touching Skinner's nose. The children giggled. "Of course, there are times when you snore something awful."

"Fox!"

The boys demonstrated snoring techniques to Bethany who laughed at them. Mrs. Major was biting her lip, casting an eye to the bathroom as she tried not to laugh. She winked and Skinner knew he had an ally in enemy territory.

"Popi, did your house really catch on fire? And did Mandy almost blow up in your car?" Beth asked, wide-eyed. Skinner sat on a chair and told her a tame version of the story, making an emphases of their new home and how much they liked it, and that no one was hurt.

The twins weren't quite ready for Monopoly, not grasping the concept of money yet, so Skinner and company left Bethany to play her new game with her grandparents.

The boys were bathed and tucked into bed when they got home, Kisa was let out for a run, and Skinner dumped himself into a bath of his own. He leaned back and shut his eyes, relaxing into the hot water. A hand crept down into the water and encircled his genitals. He didn't move. The hand slowly stroked him, not in any rush. He went with the sensations coursing through him, making an audible noise only when he was touched in a particularly sensitive spot. He made a small grunt as he came, a nice, easy orgasm caused by the hand of someone who knew him so well. A mouth touched his, a gentle kiss, sweetly caressing.

"Come to bed, Walter," Mulder whispered.

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

It was officially Summer Vacation for the elementary school.

Skinner began making daily plans to keep the boys occupied. Carlo had taken Natti up to New York to spend time with his family, while Dominic showed up on Skinner's doorstep. Skinner let him in without a word. Dom was taken upstairs and given a room of his own while he figured out his life.

"I'm too old to be starting over," Dom said, staring out the window.

"Dom, I didn't become a father or take a male lover until after I retired," Skinner reminded him. Dom nodded.

"Point," he conceded. "I think I can handle the thought of children, but don't expect to see me bringing Mr. July home any time soon."

Skinner watched his cousin for a moment.

"What did Zia say?" he asked.

Dom was silent. "Don't worry about it, Walter, she doesn't hold grudges. Not for long, anyway."

"Well, if you want something to take your mind off things, I could use someone to watch the boys while I go to work," Skinner said. Dom agreed.

Once at work, Skinner was joined by KC for patrol. Ruvin decided that he needed a vacation. They hadn't gone more than two blocks when Becky called them on the radio. They both groaned, hearing the address.

".....I'm going to skin that insane cat!" shouted Mr. Cuypepper from next door as they pulled up to the house. "Come 'er, puppy," he called, clicking his teeth and rustling his fingers. Skinner scrunched down and looked under the porch. A large set of dark eyes stared back at him mournfully. Slowly, the dog came out. It was enormous, a huge ball of black fur. The man stroked his ears and ruffled the thick mane surrounding the dog's face. Mr. Cuypepper murmured baby gibberish, making kissy noises. Skinner held his gaze steady while KC rolled her eyes.

"Did you actually see the chase, Sir?" Skinner asked the man. Mr. Cuypepper yanked his head around, glaring up at Skinner.

"Not all of it, but I saw that... that... MONSTER! chase my Wolfgang under the porch where he's been shaking ever since. I want that... that... put down as a danger to society!" he shouted, pointing imperiously down the street.

Skinner looked down at the quaking New Foundland. The dog seemed to look back at him in apology. Skinner wasn't sure if it was for his master's behavior or his own cowardice.

"We'll check it out, Sir," Skinner said. He and KC went back to the car.

"I'm buying the shots at the bar tonight," she said after shutting her door.

"You're on."

Mrs. Plotsky denied the entire incident, pointing out an innocently sleeping cat on a doily covered chair.

"My Baby has been sound asleep, exhausted from her ordeal in the tree this morning," she insisted. When her back was turned, one green eye opened for a moment and slowly shut. Skinner would swear he heard a nefarious snicker.

Without physical proof, there was nothing Skinner could do.

"Wait!" Mrs. Plotsky said, remembering something. She went into her kitchen and was back a moment later with a plate.

"Welcome back, Sheriff," she said.

They got into the car where Skinner put the plate on the back seat.

"How the hell am I supposed to arrest her cat after that?" he asked. KC patted his knee.

"You just do," she said. "Unless you're accepting bribes?"

They drove out to the farm houses and stopped to surreptitiously feed the nice piggies a few crunchy cookies.

"Gun fire at Smith and Pine," Becky said over the radio. Skinner pushed his foot down hard on the gas and they high-tailed it back into town while KC set the siren.

Neighbors poked their heads out of their houses, eager to get them shot off, Skinner assumed. A teenage boy ran across the street, clearly afraid for his life. The car screeched to a halt and the boy dropped down behind it, panting, on the ground.

"Rafael?" Skinner questioned, looking out the window at him. "What's going on?"

The young man hung his head, catching his breath, and gestured toward the houses across the street.

"Mr. Thomas... gun..." Rafael got out.

Skinner was confused. Gentle, hen-pecked Mr. Thomas? With a gun?

"Why?" Skinner asked. As an answer, a shot rang over the hood of the car. Skinner and KC ducked.

"Where are you, you no good bastard?!" they heard shouted. "That's alright, I know where you live!"

"What'd you do, Rafe?" Skinner asked him urgently.

"I got Mary pregnant," came the groan.

Skinner groaned himself. A fifteen year old cheerleader pregnant by the senior quarterback. Great.

"Hey, Carl, it's Sheriff," Skinner said loudly out the window. "I'm coming out, alright? Let's talk about this?"

"Come on out, Sheriff," he heard. "I'm gunnin' for that horny little prick, not you."

By the time Skinner talked Mr. Thomas out of killing the teenager, he was ready to call Scully and beg for a job. Then he remembered that he had forgotten to remind Dom about The Manual and twin survival techniques. Skinner raced home in a panic.

Kisa had been shaved.

She looked pathetic as she wagged her miserable excuse for a tail when he entered the house.

"Boys!" Skinner yelled. He scrunched down and scratched her head, letting her know that everything was alright. The boys came running in and Skinner pointed to the puppy.

"What have you been told about shaving the animals?" he asked. The twins looked at him innocently.

"But, Popi, you said not to shave the cats," Pavel protested. Ivan nodded; he remembered quite clearly Popi said not to shave the cats. Skinner groaned and rubbed at his face.

"Kisa was hot. She was making her tongue hang out and she was dripping spit all over," Ivan said, wrinkling his pert little nose in disgust.

Skinner found himself wishing for a bottle of something. Anything.

"Where's Adam?"

The twins rolled their eyes.

"Making faces at Jennifer," Pavel informed him.

"Where's Dom?" Skinner asked.

"Cooking," Ivan said.

"Does Dom know how to cook?" Skinner asked. He headed for the kitchen. It was a disaster area. Dom was covered in flour and red sauce.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," Skinner said dryly.

Dom waved a spatula, shooting more red sauce everywhere.

"This is harder than it looks," he said apologetically.

"Dom, you're an Italian who can't cook?" Skinner asked.

Dom waved his hands, splattering sauce on the walls.

"I've always had Mama or one of my sisters to cook for me," he said. "What's wrong with the dog?" he asked, seeing the woebegone puppy drag herself in.

Skinner could see he had no choice.

"Alright," he sighed. "Boys, go outside and play. Take Kisa with you. Dom, out of my kitchen."

Krycek and his shadow walked into the kitchen, stopped short, and turned around without a word, walking back out.

The kitchen was cleaned and dinner almost edible when the next crisis occurred. Skinner heard a thud. A second later, he heard one of the boys screaming. He dropped a dish on the floor and ran for the back door. His heart stopped for a moment, seeing Pavel laying on the ground under a tree.

"Popi!" Ivan yelled, running for Skinner. "He fell!" Ivan had tears streaming down his face as he watched his brother in fear.

Skinner ran for Pavel and fell to the ground next to him. Pavel was screaming in pain. His arm at a crooked angle.

"ALEX!"

By the time Mulder got to Doc Wilkins' office, Pavel was mostly asleep, shot up with pain killers as his arm was x-rayed and reset before being put into a plaster cast.

"He'll be fine, Walter," Doc assured him with a pat. "It's a rite of passage for boys. I've probably put the arms and legs of just about every boy in town into a cast at one time or another. Take him home, put him to bed. He'll be right as rain in about six weeks."

Skinner gripped Mulder's hand and took a deep breath, nodding. It was just a broken bone. He broke his arm once himself. It hurt like hell, but he survived.

He picked the drowsy child up, carefully cradling him, while Krycek took an anxious Ivan. Mulder went to the White's house to find Adam.

"Popi?" Pavel said groggily. Skinner kissed his forehead. "Hurts," Pavel whimpered, pouting.

"I know, son," Skinner said. "We'll get you home and you can go to bed. You'll feel better in the morning."

He took the pain killers from Doc and got into the car, carefully sliding into the passenger seat while Krycek drove them home. Ivan leaned over the back seat to peer over Skinner's shoulder.

"He'll be fine, Vonnie," Skinner said softly, more calmly than he felt. Ivan rested his chin on Skinner's shoulder and touched Pavel's free hand.

Once home, with Krycek driving slow and careful, Skinner put Pavel to bed and went outside to glare at the offending tree.

"Babe, it isn't the tree's fault," Mulder said, coming up behind him.

"It needs to come down, Fox," Skinner informed him.

"Why?" Mulder asked.

"What if he had broken his neck? Or his spine? Poked an eye out on a small branch?" Where did he put the saw?

Mulder turned him around. Skinner could see a logical lecture coming on.

"Who was it that lectured whom about not being able to protect certain children from the world?" he asked.

"That was words, Fox," Skinner said. "You can't protect them from hurtful words. This was physical. That's different."

Mulder nodded. "How so? Kids commit suicide every day over words. They bring guns to school over words. They kill their best friends over one glance from a pretty girl. This was a tree, Walter. The normal act of a boy climbing a tree. The normal act of a boy falling out of a tree. If you take the tree away, the only thing he's going to learn is that whenever something hurts him, either he, or someone else, will get rid of it for him. He needs to learn how to deal with his world, not make it go away. Next time, he'll think twice about climbing that tree."

Skinner hated it when Mulder was right. All the time. He nodded, unhappily accepting the lecture.

"Now, tell me something," Mulder said. "What happened to Kisa?"

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

Kisa was shaved completely, all the rows and tufts of uneven fur taken off, all the while praised and assured of her good girl-ness. She swallowed hard and bravely accepted her master's kindness. She ignored the cats, who practically rolled off the high beams in laughter. She didn't understand why her master kept the ungodly creatures.

Ivan and Adam sat quietly working in their work books, Ivan glancing worriedly toward their bedroom once in a while. Skinner checked in on Pavel, who was sound asleep from the pain meds. He felt the boy's fingers. They were warm, reassuring him of good circulation. He straightened the covers and kissed Pavel's forehead, brushing the dark hair away from his face. They needed a haircut again.

Skinner dragged himself to the livingroom and plopped into the couch, turning the TV on to the news. Ivan came in and climbed up onto his lap, curling up against his chest. Skinner held him, soothing himself as he stroked his son. They're getting big, Skinner noticed, as the top of Ivan's head brushed the underside of his chin. They'll be six next month, he realized.

After the dishes were done, Mulder came in and sat next to him.

"And how was the rest of your day?" he asked.

Skinner smiled a little. "Busy," he said quietly. An understatement. "Baby was terrorizing that Newfie down the street, Mrs. MacGillicuddy locked herself out of the house. She was wearing her nightgown and curlers. Patrick O'Toole is in a cell for smacking his wife; fifteen year old Mary Thomas is pregnant by Rafael Vargas, the quarterback of the high school football team. Her father tried to shoot his a... butt with a sawed off. Last I saw, Mr. Vargas was whomping his son upside the head and yelling in Spanish fast enough to peel bark from a tree. Is it too soon for a vacation, Fox?"

Adam came in and lay next to Mulder on the couch, resting his head on Mulder's thigh as he watched the news.

"Actually, I was thinking of a little side trip this weekend," Mulder said. Skinner looked up from playing with Ivan's little fingers.

"Oh? Where?" he asked.

"Roswell."

He didn't need to ask which Roswell.

"Why?"

Mulder shrugged. "Just because," he said. "Come on, Walter, it'll be fun. Delegate some authority. There's no rule that says you have to work weekends."

"Can we go, too, Uncle Fox?" Ivan begged, lifting his head. Adam sat up and echoed his plea. Skinner was out-numbered.

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

Invited to join them, Krycek's expression spoke volumes. He politely declined. Pavel wasn't too thrilled about going anywhere, but by the weekend, he had begun to come around and made a brave stand at being well. He became quickly frustrated at trying to do things one-handed to the point of throwing temper tantrums. Skinner put a sudden halt to that, insisting that Krycek show the boy how to fend for himself until the cast was off. He saw a few ghosts pass Krycek's face, but decided that it would be good for him. Mulder gave an approving nod.

They flew into El Paso late Friday night, took a room, and drove out to Roswell in the morning with a rented Bronco. The boys grew bored with the monotonous desert scenery and Mulder distracted them with an oral exam on their current books.

For all the hype, Roswell turned out to be nothing more than a two stop light town out in the middle of nowhere. Road signs excitedly warned them that they were approaching the famous town, along with waving green aliens smiling at them. Mulder pointedly ignored them.

"Gray, not green," he muttered at one point.

"I'm hungry, Popi," Ivan complained, obviously starving to death. Pavel and Adam agreed; they were hungry, too. Mulder's stomach grumbled.

"Alright," Skinner said, giving up. He saw a strange diner and parked in front. "Will burgers do?" His men assured him that burgers would do just fine.

The diner was relatively quiet, only a few people enjoying a meal. Skinner was pleasantly surprised to see that the place was clean and well lit. He looked at the tables -they had all been washed down. No sticky spots on the floor. He had expected a small place like that to be trashed and staffed with dower waitresses. It was a little on the kitschy side, but he could deal with it.

"Hi, welcome to the Crashdown," a perky young lady greeted them. Her shy smile was warm and generous. She ruffled Pavel's hair, squatting down to coo sympathetically over his arm. Pavel ate it up and put on his best pout of despair. The young lady stood, took Pavel's hand, and led them to a booth, promising the boy an extra scoop of ice cream. She put menus down on the table.

"I'm Liz, take your time and I'll be back for your order," she said, her brown ponytail bouncing as she turned.

Skinner silently indicated his admiration to Mulder who shrugged and nodded. They perused the weirdly named dishes, finding appropriate things for the boys before choosing their own lunches. The bell on the door jangled as another waitress came in.

"Sorry I'm late," she said to Liz.

"It's about time," a male voice said from the kitchen. Skinner looked up at the surly voice to see a young man stick his head out of the hole in the wall. The girl stuck her tongue out at him.

"I wouldn't have been late if you'd have set the alarm clock like I asked you to, Michael," she snapped back at him. He shook his head and went back to cooking.

They had their cokes in a moment. Skinner looked at the straw with the alien head. He decided that he couldn't drink from an alien head and took it out.

"Where to first, Fox?" he asked. Mulder turned and looked out the window.

"We probably need to see that place," he said, indicating the building across the street. Signs encouraged them to stop in and see the evidence. "Of course, we'll need to go out to the crash site."

"Of course," Skinner agreed. Mulder stopped craning his neck.

"Walter, you don't have to come with me," he said, giving Skinner's knee a pat.

Skinner shook his head. "No, Fox, we came here as a family and we will sight-see as a family. I don't mind, really. It just might be interesting. Just promise me that you won't get into any trouble while we're here."

"Walter, forgive me if my memory is a little faulty in my old age, but I think it's you that trouble follows."

The boys were no help, agreeing with Mulder.

Their waitress, Liz, brought over a tray with their burgers and set it down. She looked at the possessive hand on Skinner's thigh but didn't say anything as she easily set their food out.

"Just yell if you need anything," she told them.

"Daddy, can I play the juke box?" Adam asked, seeing the machine's lights. Mulder forked over the coins and all three boys ran over to it.

"Boys, your lunch is going to get cold," Skinner called over to them. They were too engrossed in the selections that Adam was reading off to them. The twins couldn't see the panel that was so much higher up than they were.

The door jangled again and another teenager came in.

"Aren't there any adults in this town?" Skinner whispered to Mulder.

"Hey, Liz," the boy called with an air of urgency. Skinner paid attention while not paying attention, sensing that something bigger than an acne outbreak was up. "Have you seen my father?"

Liz shook her head. The other girl stood next to Liz.

"What's up?" the cook asked, sticking his head out.

The dark haired boy went over to him and said something too low for Skinner to hear. The cook went back into the kitchen and came out the door in a moment.

"Maybe he just took some time?" he suggested to his antsy friend.

The second boy shook his head. "No, he wouldn't leave without telling me," he said.

The girls nodded. "That's true," the cook's girl said. "He practically still has a leash on Kyle," she told Michael. Kyle straightened with a look of denial.

"He does not," he protested.

"Please," the girls both said. Michael took his stained apron off and shoved it at Kyle.

"Here, make yourself useful," he said. "And don't burn my kitchen down."

Skinner and Mulder both raised their heads at the adult air of command coming from this teenager.

"Where do you think you're going?" his girlfriend asked.

"Stay, Maria," Michael ordered her. "I'm going to find Max, and we will go and look for the Sheriff."

Skinner put his burger down. The door clanged shut as he motioned the girls over.

"Listen, I don't want to butt into your business here," he said. "But if we can be of any help, let us know." He introduced himself and Mulder. Instead of relaxing into the arms of the law, the girls stiffened.

"Why... what brings you here?" Liz asked hesitantly, looking at both of them.

Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Weekend vacation for the family," he said, motioning to the children. "Is there a problem?"

"Nnn.... no," she said with a nervous smile. She shouldn't lie, Skinner thought, she does it even worse than I do.

Pavel climbed back into his chair and made an attempt at picking up his hamburger. All the innards fell out and he sat back with a pout.

"Pav, remember that big sandwich we shared when all the cousins came for a visit?" Skinner reminded him. Pavel nodded. "When you couldn't fit it into your mouth, how did we fix that?"

Pavel thought for a moment. "You broke it in half?" he said. Skinner took a knife and reached over to cut the hamburger into pieces for the boy. Pavel happily took a piece and stuffed his mouth with it.

Their waitress relaxed slightly and went back to the other side of the room, bending her head to whisper to her friend.

"Fox," Skinner said in a low voice.

"Damned if I know," Mulder said, taking a bite of his burger.

A thought occurred to Skinner.

"Adam, any voices or anything?" he asked the boy. Mulder looked up in objection but Adam shook his head.

"Nope," he said, dipping a fry in ketchup. "Haven't heard anything in a while." He popped the red fry into his mouth.

"Hmmm," Skinner muttered, unconvinced.

By the time they finished their lunch, and the boys halfway through sundaes, the door opened again. Their cook was back, along with another dark haired teenager. Skinner was almost convinced that the town of Roswell was inhabited by only teenagers.

The make-shift cook came out of the kitchen.

"Well?" he asked anxiously.

"Go find Isobel and bring her here," the newcomer quietly ordered him in a tone that would have brought a General to his feet. Kyle took off the apron and practically saluted as he left. Liz yanked on the new boy's shirt and brought his head down, whispering to him. Skinner noted that the young man softened slightly in her presence before he found himself under the intense scrutiny of the young man's eyes. Maria stood behind Michael's protective shield, silently daring anyone to get through him.

What the hell was it with these kids? he asked himself.

"Walter, I swear you must have a curse on you," Mulder informed him, poking a spoon into Adam's ice cream. "Scully's gonna love this one."

The young man moved quietly as he strode over to their table.

"May I speak with you?" he asked politely, avoiding the boys. Skinner told the boys to stay as he and Mulder took a few steps away from the table.

"Look," the young man began under his voice. "Every time one of you people comes here, one of us becomes a target. The Sheriff is missing. Is he next in line for your little crusade? Just give him back, he hasn't done anything."

Skinner shook his head. "Son, I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "My partner is a fan of your town's history. He wanted to come out for the weekend. We thought our sons would enjoy it. That's it." He reached into his pocket, slowing down as the young man tensed. Skinner realized that all of the teenagers were reacting as though they expected someone to pull guns on them. Who hurt them?

He showed the young man his ID and badge. The young man barely glanced at Mulder's, unimpressed.

"You're badges mean nothing to us," he said. "So far, I've been threatened, kidnapped, and tortured by the FBI, so if you're going to do it, get on with it and do it in front of witnesses this time. Valente has nothing to do with this, so let him go."

Mulder stepped forward and motioned him to a booth.

"I think we need to have a good long talk," Mulder said. He sat down and waited. He patted the seat in invitation. The young man looked around, showing a hint of teen nervousness for the first time. Skinner sat next to Mulder, leaving the young man free to move away. He motioned the boys to stay where they were. Their waitress, Liz, seemed to have a mothering instinct and she sat with them, distracting them. Michael stood off, but was obviously guarding his friend.

"What's your name?" Mulder asked the young man.

"Max. Max Evans."

Mulder held his hand out. Max looked at it warily before reluctantly taking it.

"Well, Mr. Evans, I don't know what you've been saying or what's been happening here, but I can guarantee you one thing," Mulder said seriously. "If any FBI agents have been here, they came without official orders. I should know, I would have given those orders. Because of the history of this town, anything that happens here is under my direct supervision. I would have come out, no one else, to investigate anything that needed to be investigated."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Max asked, clearly not believing it.

Mulder shrugged. "You know that game of the seven steps? You are just one person away from talking to any President, King, Queen, anybody, in the world. Find a phone," he said. "I won't give you any numbers, you can get them yourself. Call DC information, get the number for the Hoover, ask for Assistant Director Scully. The magic word is 'Mulder'. She'll connect you to the President of the United States, if that's what's necessary to convince you. I had lunch there last month. The chef makes a killer Baked Alaska."

There was something about this boy, Skinner thought, watching his face. Even more than the fact that it seemed as though he didn't recognize any of the names that were being thrown at him. Something.... unearthly. A centered calm amid the storm. Most adults didn't have the presence that Max Evans had, it certainly was out of place in a teenager.

"All we want to do is help," Skinner said in quiet assurance. "We'll take our boys on the tourist thing and stay out of your way, if that's what you really want."

Max looked both of them over carefully, weighing decisions. He nodded.

"If you're telling the truth, fine, play with all the stuffed green aliens you want," he said. "If not.... then you have an idea of what could happen if you get in my way."

He stood, gave them a final look, and turned.

"Michael," he said. His friend continued to stare at Skinner and Mulder. "Now, Michael."

The girls were quietly ordered to stay put, along with Kyle. Michael leaned in and whispered urgently to Max who considered the words carefully. The three were told to come along.

The store was suddenly empty except for Skinner, Mulder, and the boys.

"That was weird, Fox."

Mulder nodded. "Major weird," he agreed.

They rounded up the boys, left money on the table, and went across the street to the alien museum. Skinner was glad to find adults, even if they were tourists. Mulder nitpicked his way through the place, stopping once in a while to peer with interest at some piece of knickknack or photo. He put his foot down on alien antennas that the boys wanted until Skinner gave him a 'chill out' look. The boys got their antennas.

"You know we have a shadow, right?" Skinner leaned over to whisper to Mulder who nodded.

"Pretty blond, a few yards back," Mulder murmured back, leaning in to look closer at a photo. "If it makes him feel better, let her."

"Popi, I can't see that one," Ivan complained, pointing to a picture far above his head. Skinner lifted him and Pavel up for a look.

"Is it real, Uncle Fox?" Pavel asked, looking at the shadow of what could be an alien. Mulder looked at it.

"Looks like a warp from Close Encounters of the Third Kind," he said after a moment. "I don't think so, Pav."

"Show us real ones, Uncle Fox," Ivan insisted. Skinner set the boys down and they followed Mulder as he pointed out different photos and told them what made them real and how others, most, could have been faked. They soon had a crowd following them, listening avidly to Mulder's discourse.

"Here, now," they heard a strong British accent say over the people. A young man with hair that looked as though he stuck his finger in a light socket came through the crowd. "Disperse," he said, shooing the people back. They chuckled and went on their way. "Now, then. What's the meaning of playing Pied Piper?"

"Sorry," Mulder said. "I was only showing our sons the...."

The young man snapped his fingers. "You're Fox Mulder!" he said excitedly. "Oh, this is an honor! You must have terrific stories to tell, and I want to hear them all. Come on back," he invited. Mulder shot Skinner a plea for rescuing. Skinner ignored him.

It took the rest of the afternoon to get Mulder out, and they only did so by pointing out that little boys get bored very quickly. They were reluctantly allowed to leave.

Mulder next wanted to see the crash site. The boys spread out in the back and were soon asleep, exhausted from their busy day. They rounded a rock outcropping and stopped in the road, coming upon several cars that were stopped. Men in suits with guns stood defensively, their weapons aimed at the strange kids from the diner. A man about Skinner's age was held with a gun to his head. The MIB were startled at the Bronco's approach and rearranged their stance to include Skinner and Mulder in their standoff.

"I don't recognize any of them," Mulder said, quickly looking them over. "Not mine. And they don't look like Alex's either, for that matter. His men don't dress that well."

Skinner looked back. The boys were still sound asleep.

They checked their guns and slowly got out of the truck, locking the boys in.

"Get back in your car and head out," a man called out to them. "This is government business." He held up an ID badge with the FBI logo.

"From what office?" Mulder called back.

"DC," the man said importantly.

Mulder pulled out his own ID.

"That's funny, I'm the ASAC and I know you're not from DC. Who's your SAC? Shall we call the AD and ask her for clearance?"

Skinner pulled his gun, standing beside Mulder as the men stiffened even further.

"You are not FBI. Let the man go," Mulder ordered them, cocking his gun.

After a moment's hesitation, the man was shoved toward the teenagers. In the confusion, their blond shadow was taken by the MIB.

"No! Isobel!" Max shouted. Michael held him back.

Before anyone could move, something small streaked past Skinner and Mulder and into the chaos, jumping at the man who held Isobel.

"Don't you hurt the pretty lady!" Pavel yelled. He attached himself to the man's leg and bit the back of his thigh. The man howled and released Isobel who double-timed it toward Max and Michael.

"Pavel!" Skinner and Mulder yelled in a panic. Something pushed the MIB back, knocking them over and scattering their guns. Skinner jumped in and hooked an arm around Pavel's waist, pulling him away.

The teenagers and the older man stepped back as Skinner shoved Pavel toward the Bronco. "Get back inside," he ordered the boy. Mulder stood over the MIB, holding his gun on them.

"Get out," he commanded them. Skinner was going to object, but knew that there was no way that men like them would be in jail much more than a few hours, not if they were taken in privately. He knew Consortium when he smelled them.

"And, Gentlemen?" Mulder said. "This town is under my microscope now. Tell your boss to find another toy. Or I'll send Alex after her."

The MIB didn't understand that, but they'd give her the exact message. They got into their cars and drove off.

"Who, Fox?" Skinner asked.

"Who else could have pulled this off?" Mulder said. "Alex's Ice Queen has come out of hiding."

Marita. Shit.

The man with the teenagers stepped forward, his hand held out.

"I don't know who you are, but thank you," he said. Skinner and Mulder shook his hand, introducing themselves. Max came up to them, his expression slightly softened as his hand was also held out.

"Thank you," he said.

"Mind telling us what this was all about?" Skinner asked after shaking his hand.

"The less you know, the better," Max said.

Mulder got that 'look' on his face. How does he do that? Skinner wondered for the millionth time.

"Max, don't box yourself in," Mulder said quietly. "You need to get out and make your case known. I know it scares you, but if you're in the public eye, there's less a chance of anyone getting to you. You have friends that can help. Lots of them. There are safe places for you to go. We can give you contacts."

The teenagers stared at him. After a moment, Max and Michael both gave a nod.

"Michael will protect us," Max said. "But thank you. We will remember."

Skinner gave Michael a close look. A seventeen year old Krycek stood there, ready to take on the world in a battle to the death. Teenager or not, Skinner would not underestimate Michael.

Max squatted down and motioned for Pavel to come close. He held out his hand and took Pavel's.

"You saved my sister's life," Max said. "That was very brave of you. Thank you." Pavel shook his hand importantly. Max took the cast between his hands. He seemed to be concentrating on it but Skinner couldn't tell what he was doing.

"Did you break your arm?" Max asked. "I'll bet that hurt."

Suddenly the cast broke into a dozen pieces and fell to the sand. Pavel gasped.

There seemed to be a faint glow on Pavel's skin before fading. Skinner was sure it was just a reflection from the bright sun. Max brushed the dust from Pavel's skin.

"It must be all better now," Max said. Pavel swallowed hard before moving his arm. He looked up in amazement when there was no pain.

"Popi, my arm is all better!" he exclaimed, holding it up to Skinner. Skinner touched it. He couldn't feel anything other than a perfectly straight bone. He picked Pavel up and hugged him.

"Am I grounded again?" Pavel asked in a moment.

Skinner gulped and nodded.

"No beating up the bad guys until you're an adult," he said in a husky voice. "He could have killed you, Pavel. And I wouldn't have you anymore. You scared me very much."

Mulder took out a business card from his wallet. He took the pen from Liz's apron and wrote several numbers on the back before handing it to Max.

"There are your emergency contact numbers," he said. "You'll get one of us, my boss, AD Scully, or a man named Alex Krycek. If you get one of them, tell them everything. I'll let them know you have the numbers. Nothing you say to them will surprise them. If it helps you any, think of Alex as a forty-four year old version of Michael. We live near Quantico. If you need to, come to Virginia. Call and we'll be there. We'll find a safe place for you. Call anyway."

Max gave a nod and handed the card to Michael.

Sitting in the Bronco, Mulder looked over at Skinner.

"Babe, the next time we go on a trip, I'm leaving you home."

End.

Note: I don't own the Roswell characters, the WB does. Oops. I mean UPN does. They just bought Roswell for the fall.