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More Than You Think You Are
Title:  More Than You Think You Are ch.11
Author: Goddess Michele
Date August, 2005
Fandom: X-Files
Pairing: M/Sk
Spoilers: lots
Rating: adult and all over the place
Beta: I am my own worst beta!
Disclaimer: C.C., Fox and 1013 own them, I’m just borrowing them for fun, not profit, and I promise to return them only slightly bruised,
but in that good 'thank you sir and may I have another?' way.
Feedback: Yes, please! starshine24mc@yahoo.com
Archive:  put it wherever you like, including atxf and SM, just leave my name on it.
Summary: A funny or not so funny tale I’ve been playing at for a while now, finally seems to be coming together

More Than You Think You Are Part 11

I must have rolled over in my sleep, but I came awake with a groan as something in my ass jolted painfully. I rolled back, found myself twisted in the bed sheets, and yelped at another flare of agony from those parts south.

“Fox! Fox, are you okay?”

Strong hands descended onto my shoulders and held me still. I cracked open my eyes, still crusty from sleep, and for a moment I didn’t know where I was. Then I realized that Walter was glaring down at me. For some reason, I suddenly pictured the naked man in bed beside me in a tie. A skittering noise, like a giant mantis, flitted through my mind, making me shudder, and then it was gone, and there was just Walter, still frowning worriedly.

“Mmm…I’m fine…good…sorry.” I rearranged my limbs, tried to find a more comfortable position and didn’t, until Walter pulled me onto my side and into the crook of his arm.

Slowly the ache faded, and I felt myself relaxing. A moment later I felt Walter’s large hand slip over my hip and land with warm propriety on my ass, and I decided I could definitely get used to this. I pushed back and encountered more, warm Walterflesh, and couldn’t help snuggling into it. A foolish grin tugged at my lips, and I tumbled back into deeper sleep.


I woke up late, alone and feeling stiff and sore, like I’d gone horseback riding for a week, and then run a quick marathon or two. I stayed still for a few minutes, letting last night work it’s way back into my conscious mind, filtered out a few bad moments, and when I heard Skinner moving around downstairs, I found myself sighing like a schoolgirl.

‘Snap out of it’ I told myself a bit harshly. Still, aches aside, I couldn’t stop grinning as I pulled myself from the warm bed with a shiver and a groan and gingerly made my way to the bathroom. It didn’t take long for me to work myself into the shower and under a pounding spray of the hottest water I could tolerate without cracking open like a steamed lobster.

I shampooed and rinsed my hair, and wished Walter was doing it for me. More achy moments, a few groan-inspiring, as I soaped myself carefully, everywhere and winced at the sting in a few unexpected places. After letting the water work out most of the kinks, I stepped out of the shower and found Walter holding a towel out for me. I still felt a little awkward with the lack of privacy thing that seemed to be status quo with Skinner, but, as I accepted his terry cloth offering, I had to wonder why I could feel myself blushing, when I’d been far more exposed and naked with this man mere hours ago. A holdout from my life as a child, I supposed.

Walter seemed to sense my unease.

“I’ll just get breakfast started,” he said, giving me a quick peck on the cheek, and turning to leave the bathroom. A moment later he was turning back, as if to ask me something, and then he froze, mouth half open, eyes widening in alarm.

“What?” I cast a hasty glance at the mirror, wondering if I’d sprouted horns, or a third eye or something. Walter didn’t reply, I looked fine, and so I asked again. “What is it?”

He moved towards me with a small sigh that turned into my name: “Ohhh…Fox…”

His eyes dropped down to my crotch, and then lower. At first I was a little embarrassed, thinking he was feeling amorous or some such thing, although I did also feel a spark of arousal at his frank look. A moment passed and then, almost unwillingly, I let my gaze follow his.

There was blood trickling sluggishly down my inner thigh.

“Oh, shit,” My voice sounded weak and watery to my ears, and I suddenly felt sick. Walter reached out and I reached down, and we touched the dime sized spot on the inside of my leg at the same time.

“Oh, God, Fox, I’m so sorry!” 

I suddenly found myself crushed in a frantic embrace—it wasn’t a bad thing, but the wobbly-close-to-tears tone of Walter’s voice worried me.  I struggled to put space between us, gave him what I hoped was a reassuring look, and said:

“Hey, Walter, it’s okay. I’m okay.” I was a little doubtful about that, but then I thought it could be a lot worse. And honestly, most of the night had been wonderful. More than wonderful. I offered him a small smile. “It’s just been a while, right?”

I thought he’d smile back, but instead, his frown deepened, and he looked almost…ashamed.

I could feel the blood now that it had been brought to my attention, and the slow wet trail it was leaving on my leg made me swallow against another wave of nausea. But I forced the grin to stay put as the need to reassure Walter felt almost overwhelming.

“What’s for breakfast?”

That seemed to break whatever awful spell he was under, although he still sounded shaky when he said, “Anything you want, Fox. Anything at all.”


Anything at all turned out to be coffee and toast and a gentle reminder that whatever was in the fridge was mine as much as his and if I got hungry later I’d better not wait around to ask for permission. This was followed by an uneasy silence between us as he pretended to read the paper and I pretended I was sitting uncomfortably on one hip just to test my balance.

I opted out of ‘awkward’ mode first, reaching across the table to take his hand. 

“Tell me about your work, Walter.” It hadn’t escaped my notice that he was just a bit overdressed for breakfast. I was also pleased to note that the shirt I picked out just the day before looked as great pulled across those shoulders as I thought it would.

He explained he was an advisor in a small law firm; nothing major, but it paid the rent; and that he’d already spoken with the senior partners about cutting back a little, ‘for personal reasons’. I got a warm smile and a hand squeeze at that, and returned it eagerly. Another quiet moment, this one not so uncomfortable, with our thumbs and fingers doing enough talking for the both of us.

Skinner stood, letting go of my hand, and came around the table to slip an arm around me and press a kiss to the top of my head.

“The number’s by the phone,” he said. “Just ask Arlene for me.”


“My assistant.”

“An assistant?” I smiled. “Corner office, too, I bet.” My teasing coaxed a smile and a kiss from him, and then with a promise to be home early, and another reminder to call if I needed anything, he walked out the door, and I was left with a cooling cup of coffee and emotions that ran the gamut from ‘am I the little wife now?’ to ‘what’s on TV?’ with a few ‘I hope it doesn’t hurt this much next time’s thrown in just for fun.

I felt a headache coming on.


Mom, Don't Go Here (Kai, that goes for you too)
Write me, damn you (but be gentle... I bruise easy)
 Copyright 2005 Michele. All rights reserved.  I went to law school.