From: "Donni" <Donnilee@snet.net>
Date: Sat, 20 Oct 2001 19:34:09 -0400
Subject: RE: "Black and White" by Donnilee
Source: direct

PART 5 (PG-13)

CLARA JORDAN'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, D.C.

SUNDAY EVENING

He barely touched me as he wrapped his arms around me, afraid of hurting
me now, but his big hands rubbed my back gently below my stitches. He
knew right where they were and he didn't go near them. The warmth of his
hands seeped into my back and I felt myself melting into a puddle, the
way I always did when he was tender with me. 

He raised his hands to my face and brushed my stray tears away with his
thumbs. He whispered, "Damn, I'm making a mess of this. Just what I
didn't want to do."

He leaned in and brushed my lips gently once. Then he whispered again,
his lips brushing mine as he did so. "I love you so much, Clara. God,
I'm so sorry. Forgive me, please."

He kissed me again, licking my lower lip this time and I opened my mouth
to let him in. He kissed me slowly and gently, but teased my tongue with
his own and I felt the familiar arousal wash through me like it always
did when he kissed me. He pulled back and looked at my face. "I love
you," he said again.

I smiled, my tears now under control. "I love you too, Walter. You have
to believe that. You know that. It doesn't make this any easier though.
And it's coming out all wrong. I'm saying it all wrong."

"No you're not, baby. I'm taking it all wrong."

I lifted my free hand to palm his cheek again and he turned his head,
kissing my palm. "I need to say some things, Walter. I need to get them
off my chest and I need to know that you understand."

He nodded. "I promise to listen."

I sniffled and he handed me a tissue. I blew my nose awkwardly with one
hand and he took it from me and threw it away in the wastebasket by the
bed. I took a fortifying breath, feeling pain wash through my ribs. I
leaned back some and winced.

"Maybe we should do this later. You should rest now, Clara."

"No, I need to say this while I have the courage."

"Well, at least lay down." 

He grasped my hips and tugged me gently down the bed, his arm cradling
my shoulder as he lowered me to the bed, pulling a pillow under my head.
His hand rubbed up and down my thigh through the covers, soothing me. I
closed my eyes, thinking that this would be easier if I didn't watch
every expression cross his face. 

"I'm not used to having someone love me, Walter."

"Aww, Clara," he interrupted. 

I held my hand up. He quieted. "It's a new thing for me. I didn't grow
up in a loving household. I didn't have a loving marriage."

"I know, I know sweetheart."

I shook my head, willing him to be quiet. He seemed to sense it and
didn't continue. "I . dreamed my whole life of that fairy tale romance
that all girls dream of. My knight in shining armor that was going to
come and take me out of all my misery.

"Of course, he never came. I realized soon enough that if I wanted a
different life I was going to have to make it for myself. I'd always
enjoyed helping people. It was the only thing that made me feel
worthwhile. Being a cop to me is the ultimate in civil service and I
want to believe I help a lot of people. But my father thought that if I
wanted that, I should be a nurse or in some kind of 'female' occupation.
He doted on Cam. It was like he resented that I was a girl, but since I
was, I shouldn't go into a man's profession. I should stay out of the
way of the men in the world. I think my father always blamed me for not
being a boy! Silly, huh?"

He was silent, knowing I didn't want a response. 

"I went to college and got my degree in psychology and went to work for
a prestigious doctor in Virginia. But I wasn't happy. I had good times,
but I decided I didn't want to sit behind a desk all day or in an office
all day.

"So I became a cop against the wishes of my father, I enrolled in the
academy. He threatened to disown me. I don't know if I believed him or
not. I didn't really care. I really didn't. He couldn't seem to get it
through his thick skull that I didn't give a damn about his business or
his money. He thought I did it out of spite because Cam was his
favorite.

"I did it because I needed to have something that was just mine. I
needed love, acceptance and respect. I didn't want or need his
inheritance. He never understood that because his entire life revolved
around it. So does Cam's. I didn't want his ready made business. I
wanted to build my own future and be able to say that I had built it and
nobody had handed me anything.

"I succeeded for a while. Then I met and married my macho asshole
husband. He was prince charming when we were dating, but once we were
married, all bets were off. He immediately began treating me like a
possession and ordering me around like I was some kind of slave.
Naturally, I didn't take that so well. He only put up with so much of my
resistance and then he began to beat me."

I could hear the flatness in my voice and I couldn't bear to look at
him, knowing this was going to make him angry. He wanted to protect me
from all the evil in the world, but that just wasn't possible.

"Needless to say, I put up with it for a while, trying to make it work,
trying to do what he wanted for the sake of peace. But then he started
in about me quitting the job and that was the last straw. 

He accused me of trying to be a man. By then, I knew he was cheating on
me and I didn't even care anymore. All I could hear was my father
ranting and raving about what an unladylike profession it was. That it
was for men and women had no place there. That was the last straw and I
finally found the courage to leave him and serve divorce papers."

I sighed, assembling my thoughts. Where was I going with this? There was
a point but I was losing sight of it. I'd told him some of this before,
but now I needed to make him understand why I was hesitating. It had
nothing to do with him. It was all about me and my hang ups.

"So I was gun shy about relationships for a long time. I dated here and
there but nobody struck my match if you know what I mean."

He chuckled. "I'm glad," he said softly.

I grinned, keeping my eyes closed. "I was determined not to make the
same mistake again. I vowed to never date another cop. I made a place
for myself on the job - and then I got promoted to detective and I
thought my life was complete. My father was out of my life, but I didn't
really miss him if you want to know the truth. I made enough money to
support myself and pay my bills and that was enough for a while."

"But?" he asked softly.

"But . after a while, it wasn't enough. I got lonely. But I knew that
was the wrong reason to jump into a relationship. I wasn't going to go
into a relationship needy, or just to satisfy a loneliness."

I paused. "Then you came along."

I could hear the smile in his voice. "And?"

"And you lit my match," I said as blandly as I could.

His low baritone laughter bounced off the walls and warmed me, making me
shiver. I loved to hear him laugh. He didn't do it nearly enough. I
smiled, just enjoying the sound. When he quieted, I continued.

"Every time I looked up that day, you were looking at me. It freaked me
out a little."

"Sorry," he said, not a hint of remorse in his voice.

I grinned. "No you're not."

"I thought you were beautiful. But God, Clara when you smiled and showed
those dimples I felt my knees give out. Damn," he muttered.

I smiled again. "I couldn't stop sneaking looks at your body," I
admitted.

He laughed again. "You're incredible. Unlike most women, *I* personally
have no problem with being a sex object," he joked.

"Shhh," I warned him. "So were you, incredible that is. You were so
great with the young testosterone studs that day. You were older and so
much more mature than they were."

"Thanks a lot," he said with a teasing tone in his voice.

"I mean that in a good way. You made them look like immature idiots. And
I was impressed with the way you supported Agents Mulder and Scully.
Later, I was impressed with how understanding you were and accepting of
their situation. I was glad they had you for a boss, for their sake. I
hope they know how lucky they are."

He snorted, but otherwise stayed quiet.

"And then I talked to Agent Scully about you. I was . I don't know. I
needed to know if you were available, so I asked her if you were single.
She said you were and I told her I thought you were a hunk."

He chuckled again. 

"Then I couldn't stop thinking about you. Every day I was wondering if I
would run into you or if you would need to come to the station house
again for something, to follow up, or for anything. I knew that was
stupid. But then I started dreaming about you and that really disturbed
me. I hadn't dreamed about a man in years."

I heard him gasp a little and delighted in it.

"I spent a couple of weeks trying to get up the courage to call you but
I was so afraid of making an ass out of myself. When you finally called
me, I was so surprised I nearly peed my pants."

He chuckled a little louder this time, clearly amused.

"I was so excited. And that first date, God, the way you looked at me.
You made me feel beautiful without making me feel cheap or like a sex
object. That's what most men made me feel. I was so drawn to you. I'd
never experienced that feeling, like a gravitational pull, before. I
couldn't walk away from you. And then you let me touch you."

"I enjoyed that."

I snickered. "Me too. You stood there so docilely, I was amazed. I was
intrigued by you as a man. I'd never met anyone so unaffected by their
position of authority. But I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that your
body fascinated me. And you were so warm when I touched you."

"You made me crazy in seconds," he whispered.

"Then you kissed me and it was all over but the curtain call."

He laughed out loud again. "I'll never forget that night, Clara. It was
the beginning of a new life for me. And I owe it all to you."

I opened my eyes finally. "I guess I'm so used to being screwed over
that I'm afraid of messing this up. My former relationship was wonderful
too, until I got married. Then everything changed in what seemed like an
instant."

He frowned at me. "I'd never hurt you, Clara," he said, his voice filled
with conviction. "You have to know that I would never raise a hand to
you."

I nodded. "I know it, intellectually."

"But?"

"But I associate marriage with . anger, hurt and pain."

"I'd change that for you," he said quietly. "Let me replace a bad memory
with a good one, Clara."

"I don't want you to change your behavior either. I'm just looking for
an easy out, because I'm tired. I want it all, Walter. I want a husband,
a family, a home. I want it so bad I can taste it. And I want it with
you. I do. But I'm . so afraid," I whispered the last.

"I'm sorry I was such an ass before, Clara. I don't want you to be
afraid of me. You don't need to be afraid of me. I realize yelling at
you and being all insulted isn't the way to convince you of that. But
I'd never hurt you physically, and I'd never hurt you any way . not
intentionally. I'm not your ex, Clara. I've never even pushed a woman."

"I know. I need to conquer my fear."

"We can work on it together."

I opened my eyes and looked at him, feeling a rush of affection for him.
No one had ever wanted to work on anything with me. I'd never been in a
relationship where there was equality, where my partner wanted to hear
what I had to say. It was refreshing. It was also scary because it was
uncharted territory. I needed to have more faith in this relationship. I
needed to stop judging him based on the actions of the men in my past. I
wasn't sure how to explain what I felt at work but I needed to try.

"All this stuff at work, Walter . it seems so silly and superficial when
I talk about it here, at home. It seems so far away and I leave here
convinced that I can ignore it or tell those assholes to go to hell. But
then when I get there and I'm in the midst of it, it changes. I'm
suddenly unsure of myself. I've worked very hard to be a cop, and a good
detective and earn the respect of my peers."

"And now this is taking that respect away, reducing you to an object of
controversy," he said calmly.

I nodded. "It's like all my accomplishments are forgotten and I have
only one feature now - 'dating a white man'."

"I'm sorry I've done this to you," he said solemnly.

"No! That's just it. You haven't done anything wrong. They are wrong.
And I'm wrong for not standing up for myself and trying to put a stop to
it. I could go to the Lieutenant too. I'm just thinking that now, but I
don't want to get him involved unless it's out of hand. And they haven't
really 'done' anything."

"Unfortunately, we can't be the thought police."

I smiled. "I wish."

"Yeah, well, if I ran the world ." he trailed off, smiling.

"It would be a wonderful place, I'm sure," I added.

He smiled back and leaned over to kiss me gently on the forehead. 

"I need to make a plan for when I return to work," I said.

"Don't worry about it now. You have plenty of time."

"I know, but I want to go back prepared. Prepared to say something if I
need to and having a plan if things go bad."

"Clara, hopefully if won't come to that. I know they want a rise out of
you. But I don't think ignoring it is a good thing either. It will just
fester and grow. I think maybe the trick would be to say something but
not . in anger, something that would cause them to feel stupid if they
were to continue harping on the subject."

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet. Let me think about it."

I nodded, feeling weariness wash over me. I wanted to stay awake, but
the painkiller was kicking in and I could feel my eyelids drooping.

He said, "You sleep now. I'll keep watch."

"Why don't you climb in here with me?"

"I will, but I need to clean up first. Relax and sleep."

I nodded and closed my eyes, letting my body relax into sleep. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The phone rang and I leaped for it, hoping it wouldn't wake Clara up.
She was sleeping soundly within minutes. I'd dumped the plate in the
sink, fixed one for myself and nuked the now cold food in the microwave.
I sat at the kitchen table and ate and then went to check on her. She
was snoring gently and I smiled, just watching her sleep for a while.

I had just finished washing the dishes when the phone rang. She has a
phone mounted on the wall in the kitchen and I leaped for it. "Hello,
Jordan residence."

[Ooo, so formal.]

"Agent Mulder?"

[The very same.]

"I was going to call you tomorrow. I'm taking a couple of weeks off, but
feel free to call me on my cell phone."

[Scully told me you were taking some time off. Is this a bad time?]

"No, I just didn't want the phone to wake Clara. She's finally sleeping.
My cell phone is quieter."

[But will you have it on you?]

"Most of the time. It's never far away. Try that first anyway, from now
on. If I don't answer, then call here."

[You got it. I just called to check and see how things were going. Is
there anything we can do to help?]

"No, not really."

[Well, Scully said to tell you to call for any little thing. We should
be office bound for the next couple of weeks anyway.]

"The case in West Virginia?"

[A bust. Nothing there.]

"Sorry about that."

[It's all right. I was kind of relieved. We could use a little down
time.]

"Yeah, us too. I just wish this weren't the reason for it."

[Me too. Believe me, I know how you feel.]

"Yeah, uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you sometime."

[Of course, anytime.] He paused. [How about now? What's up?]

"I need some advice," I admitted sheepishly.

[Right church, wrong pew. Maybe I should put Scully on the line,] he
joked.

I chuckled. "You're the psychologist."

[Five cents, please,] he joked glibly.

"No, I need to ask you how you went about . I don't know."

[I don't know either,] he said smoothly.

I smiled, finding myself amused despite how upset I was about what was
going on here. "I need you to be serious here for a minute."

[O.K., sorry.]

"No, it's all right. Something's brewing with Clara and I want to nip it
in the bud, but that's another issue. Before that even came up, I was
trying to work on . letting go, you know? I worry about her constantly
and I tend to .hover a bit. I know it annoys her, but I can't seem to
stop myself. It's like I'm so relieved to see her every night and I'm so
afraid of ."

[Losing her?] he asked quietly.

"Yes," I hissed out, feeling myself get choked up.

[It's not easy, I know. I can still be a pain in the ass if Scully is
hurt, but .]

"How do you do it, Mulder? I don't want to smother her. I can't lose
her."

[Do you feel like you're in danger of that?] he asked, his voice low and
soothing. I smiled internally. He was sliding into therapist mode,
despite his protestations to the contrary. He loved giving advice.

"Sometimes."

[Has she said anything to make you think she's not happy?]

"Tonight she did."

[What did she say?]

"She's not unhappy with ME. But she's been hearing some negative
comments at work, some hurtful racial comments and she admitted to being
bothered by them. I think she's conflicted. She doesn't believe what
they believe, but working along side those people becomes tense when you
know that they don't approve, or have taken an unhealthy interest in
your relationship - which is none of their business - but still."

[That is sticky. You want to tell people to go to hell. I know the
feeling. Believe me. And my reputation at the Bureau is a tenth of what
you two are up against. My reasons are not the same as hers, but the
concept is the same. You can't fight with these people because it only
raises the animosity.]

"Exactly. We've been talking about marriage too. And because of her
first marriage she also relates that type of commitment with verbal and
physical abuse and the beginning of the end of a relationship. Her first
husband had a serious personality change after they were married."

[And she's afraid the same thing will happen with you?] I could hear the
incredulity in his voice.

"No, I think intellectually she knows that's not true. But the fact is
that she's never really had a healthy, loving relationship and so she
has nothing to guide her. She's afraid." 

[Are you afraid?]

"Of what? Marriage?"

[Yeah.]

"No. I want it. I'm only afraid of making a wrong move and ruining this.
I'm only afraid of losing her if I don't handle this just right."

[Hmmm. Centuries of rage in a racial culture is a hard thing to combat.
Clara's so independent that she has learned to form her own ideas. She
thinks outside the box, Walter. Most people don't, especially those that
have no exposure to other races and culture in their private lives. It's
one thing to deal with it in a working environment. It doesn't impact
your life that much at work. But on the home front, it's difficult. When
people feel oppressed, taken advantage of, condescended to . whatever,
they immediately look for someone to blame it on. It's easier than
taking responsibility for their own lives. And if another race or
culture is involved, that's the easy thing to blame. Hatred for
superficial things is an excuse not to take responsibility for
yourself.]

"I agree. I think Clara does too. I'll talk to her some more. We almost
fought about it tonight because I took something she said the wrong way.
I need to be very careful. This could blow up in my face big time. All I
have to do is say something wrong, one time, and it could change her
whole perception of me and the way I think. I don't want her to think
I'm hiding some veiled prejudice. My being defensive could suggest
that."

He was quiet for a few seconds. Then, [I think you need to give her more
credit than that, Walter.]

That comment stopped me cold. Was I assuming that she was looking for a
flaw in my thinking. Was I assuming that she was digging for some buried
prejudice I didn't know I had and would throw it in my face if she
thought she found an indicator in that direction? Maybe I was. That was
disheartening. That would mean that I didn't trust her to listen to me
and take things I said in the spirit in which they were meant.

"What do I do, Mulder?" I asked quietly.

[I can't tell you that, Walter. But I think you need to talk to her some
more. I think you need to ask her what her fears are and do your best to
put them to rest. If I were you . I would . well, tell her that you are
afraid of her taking something the wrong way. If you trust her, you
shouldn't have to watch every word you say.]

"Back to trust, again, eh?" I asked.

[Yup, doesn't it always come back to that?]

"I guess so. But what if she doesn't trust me as much as I trust her?"

[Your projecting. And that's a waste of time. There's only one way to
find out. You have to talk to her some more.]

XXXXXXXXXX

I cleaned up and stripped naked. I found Clara laying on her right side,
her left arm cradled to her body and still in a sling. I slipped into
bed carefully behind her and spooned up, laying my arm across her hip
and my hand on her thigh. I didn't want to jostle her arm.

She hummed and snuggled backwards into my chest. I smiled and sighed. It
always felt so good to hold her. Somehow, curled around her like this, I
felt like I could protect her. I could rest easy knowing she was right
there and any harm would have to go through me first to get to her.

I fell asleep and slept the sleep of the dead. I was so tired and
emotionally wrung out. Being afraid for her life, then afraid of others
coming between us had sucked a lot of energy out of me. I was exhausted.
I woke in the early hours of the morning. I had reclined onto my back,
but Clara was still laying with her back to my side. It didn't seem that
she had moved all night. Subconsciously, even in sleep, she must be
aware of her arm and her hurting left side. 

She woke, yawned and stretched a bit. She pushed herself into a sitting
position and awkwardly turned to me. I rolled onto my side and supported
my head in my hand, my elbow on the bed. I cupped her face and we merely
stared at each other for a bit. She smiled and said, "I feel grubby.
Would you help me take a shower?"

"Of course." I cleared my throat, after hearing myself sounding still
sleepy. 

"We don't have to get up yet."

"Whenever you're ready."

"Can you come over on this side of the bed?"

"Sure, what do you need?" I was already sliding out of my side.

"I just want you to be over here. Then I can turn and lay on my good
side and still snuggle you."

I eagerly trotted to her side of the bed as she scooted over to the side
I had just vacated. The air was cool and I felt goose bumps raise up on
my skin. I quickly slid under the covers again and lay on my back,
extending an arm to her. She carefully crawled into my body, laying in
the cradle of my arm and putting her head on my chest. 

My fingers ran idly through her kinky hair and she shivered, turning her
head to kiss me chastely on the chest. I hummed to let her know how good
it felt. We fell asleep again and awakened some two hours later. I
usually didn't sleep this late. I glanced at the clock and saw that it
was 9:00 AM. I tried to slip out without waking her, but she roused
anyway.

"Shhh, go back to sleep," I whispered.

She shook her head. "Shower," she muttered.

"Do you want me to make breakfast first?"

"No, shower."

I chuckled and pulled on a robe that I kept there at her place as I sat
on the edge of the bed. I was reaching for her robe which was laying on
the bureau when I heard the doorbell ring. It startled me and I turned
to look at Clara. She shrugged her shoulder as if to say she didn't know
who it could be and then winced as the action caused her pain.

"Shit, that hurts." she muttered.

"Then don't do that," I admonished.

She grinned, shaking her head in amusement. "Go get the door."

The bell rang again, as I made my way into the living room. I hollered,
"I'm coming. Just a second."

I peered through the peephole and saw a man standing outside the door
dressed in a D.C. cop uniform. It wasn't Timmy. I opened the door,
leaving the chain lock on and asked, "Who is it?"

He gave me a dirty look through the two-inch crack in the door and said,
"Officer Williams."

Officer Williams. Officer Jimmy Williams? I wondered. The one that made
all the spectacular comments and had lost his wife a year ago. I
imagined it had to be one and the same. I went on alert instantly,
feeling my body tense. "Can I help you?" I asked, trying to appear
unconcerned.

"I stopped by to bring some things to Clara," he announced, holding a
card and flowers out in front of him. "From everybody in the squad."

"Walter Skinner," I said, by way of introducing myself. I unhooked the
chain and opened the door, backing behind it to hide my state of undress
as best I could. No need to rub it in the guy's face if he was
sensitive. His eyes looked me up and down anyway as I closed the door. 

"I've seen you before," was his only response.

"Hold on a second, let me get some pants on," I mumbled and turned to go
back to the bedroom.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye before entering the
bedroom. He was standing docilely in the center of the living room in
front of the couch. Just as I turned to enter the bedroom Clara called
out, "Who is it, baby?"

I smiled internally, unable to stop the flush of pride at hearing her
call me, baby, in front of others, especially this asshole. I swung the
door closed behind me and rooted in the drawer for my sweatpants as I
answered her. "It's Officer Williams. Says he's stopped by to drop some
things off for you from your coworkers."

I looked at her over my shoulder and she frowned. "He's never been here
before."

"Probably volunteered so he could scope out the situation."

She cracked a smile but then frowned again. "Oh God, and you answered
the door in your bathrobe."

"Does that bother you?" I asked, wondering what her answer would be.

She cocked her head to the side and said, "No," she said finally.

"Good, because I don't mind people knowing who sleeps in your bed," I
said.

"Probably didn't float his boat."

"I don't care what floats his boat," I said, as I sat on the edge of the
bed and pulled my pants on.

She frowned again. "Don't take this the wrong way, Walter. I just meant
that we don't need to intentionally antagonize people. We aren't going
to change the world."

I sighed wearily. "You're right, sorry. I guess I'm a little defensive
now. Do you want to come out or should I tell him you're not up to it?"

"I should probably try to come out or he will think you're trying to
keep him from seeing me."

"I am," I said, a little tease in my voice.

She smiled and threw the covers off, sliding to the edge of the bed. I
reached for her robe and helped her put it on, draping the left side
over her bad arm and tying it in front. She smiled and ran her hand over
my head as I did so. I decided, despite not wanting to antagonize the
guy, that I wasn't going to put a shirt on. 

She didn't say anything, so we went to the door and I opened it for her,
holding it aside as she came out. She grinned. "I think I like having
you wait on me," she teased.

I chuckled, smiling back at her. We turned to find Officer Williams
scowling at us. He forced a smile onto his face that didn't reach his
eyes and said, "I brought you a card and flowers . and some candy from
the guys at work and the secretaries. We all pitched in."

She smiled and walked to him. "Thank you for bringing it by." She
paused. "Excuse my appearance, Jimmy."

"No problem at all, Clara. I'm surprised you're up and about already."

"Yeah well, Walter's been taking great care of me."

He swallowed but made no comment. He handed her the card. "Here, open
it. It's from everyone."

She smiled at took the card. "Put the rest on the coffee table, would
you?"

He nodded and laid the flowers and the box of candy on the table. I
decided me standing there staring wasn't going to help so I offered,
"Want me to put those in water, Clara?"

She smiled at me. "Please."

I scooped them up and went to the kitchen, searching the top shelves of
her cabinets for a vase while I tuned in with one ear. She opened the
card and laughed. "Oh, this is great!"

I heard Officer Williams chuckle. "We hoped you wouldn't be offended by
it." 

"No! It's perfect. Thank you for bringing it by." 

"What does it say?" I asked loudly from the kitchen.

She said, "It's a picture of a car with a flat tire and thermometer in
it's mouth, the grill. And it says, "Sorry you had a blow out! Hope
you're on the road again soon."

I chuckled as I found a vase and filled it with water. The flowers were
a variety of cut wild flowers. I put them aside and went about putting
on a pot of coffee. I wanted to give them as much time as they needed.
"So," he began. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit like I've been run over by a truck," Clara responded.

"Is there anything you need? Everyone said not to hesitate to ask them
for any little thing."

"No, I'm fine. I'm a bit weak. Here, take a seat. I can't stand for
long."

I heard the rustling of them sitting down. "Is he ."

There was silence for a moment and then Clara asked, "Is he what?"

"Is he staying here with you?"

"Yes, he took some time off from work to help me recover."

"Oh."

"Yes, I thought it was very sweet of him."

I had to laugh at that. That was the last thing she thought it was. She
had fought me all the way, but finally gave in when she saw that I
wasn't changing my mind. I finished starting the coffee and went to the
kitchen doorway and leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb, still not
wanting to intrude but not wanting to seem sneaky in my eavesdropping.

His back was to me on the couch. Clara was sitting in her easy chair.
She saw me and flashed a smile. He didn't seem to notice.

He fidgeted with the box of candy for a moment and then said, "Can I ask
you a personal question?"

I tensed, but remained silent. Clara said, "I guess so. Can't guarantee
I'll answer it, but you can ask."

He nodded. "I was just wondering . this guy."

"Walter," she supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, him. I mean, . why him, Clara?"

She smiled gently. "Why does anyone end up with anyone, Jimmy? You're
attracted to one another, you date. And the rest is history."

"But there are so many guys . more your age," he hedged, and then
stopped.

She tilted her head to the side as she looked at him, her expression
becoming serious. I loved it when she did that. It made her look so
inquisitive and serious. But there was something adorable about that
expression. "My age? What does age have to do with it? Actually, I like
mature men that are secure about who they are and their place in the
world. Most younger guys are bit too . peacock for me, if you know what
I mean?"

"Peacock?" he questioned.

"Yeah, they are arrogant, insecure. But mostly, they just don't . float
my boat. I don't know. You're attracted to who you are attracted to.
There's no logic to it."

I quietly backed into the kitchen and leaned my back against the wall. I
wanted to listen, but I didn't want him to know I was listening. Maybe
if they talked she could nip this thing in the bud. I had a feeling all
the negative comments at work stemmed from this guy. Perhaps if she
could shut him up, the rest would calm down too without him to stir them
up.

"But, there's so many guys that would love to date you. I know that some
of the guys at the Precinct have asked you out."

"Yes they have," she replied calmly.

"Why did you always turn them down?"

"Many reasons. Some of which are none of your business."

"I don't mean to pry."

She laughed then, a soft, amused laugh. "Of course you do."

He chuckled then. "Tell me if I'm out of line."

He was trying so hard to be polite. "Not now."

"What do you mean by that?"

Here it comes, I thought.

She sighed deeply. "You were out of line last week though," she said
softly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Timmy heard you," she said, giving that time to sink in.

"I'm not sure."

"In the evidence room, Jimmy. Timmy overheard you talking about me. THAT
was out of line."

I heard him stand and peeked around the corner just to make sure he
wasn't standing over her or anything. He wasn't. He was pacing. After
several long moments of silence, he said, "I'm sorry about that."

"Are you?" she asked quietly. "Or are you just sorry that I know about
it?"

PART 6 (R )

CLARA JORDAN'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, D.C.

MONDAY MORNING - 9:30 AM

He let out a deep breath and sank down onto the couch cushions again. I
ducked back into the kitchen, hoping Clara wouldn't be angry with me
later for eavesdropping. She probably expected it though. There was
nowhere for me to go. The only exit from the kitchen was into the living
room.

Finally, he said, "A little of both, I guess, if I'm honest."

There was no sound for several more moments. Finally, Clara said, "I
don't appreciate you talking about me like that, Jimmy. My personal life
is none of your business. I need to count on my fellow officers out
there on the street, just like you do, Jimmy. I don't need to be worried
about whether their personal opinions about the way I live my life are
going to interfere with their willingness to help me out."

"I would never NOT help you, Clara!"

"How do I know that, Jimmy? You said some pretty rotten things about the
man I love."

He gasped. Then asked quietly, "You're really in love with him?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation. "But that's none of your business
either, Jimmy. I'm only discussing it with you at all because I want to
put a stop to the talk."

He said nothing and she continued. "Cops are a close bunch and I realize
that we are always going to be privy to aspects of other cops' personal
lives. But we need to respect their privacy too and realize that just
because we know about it, doesn't mean we have a right to judge.
Everybody knows what happened a year ago, Jimmy."

"What are you saying?" he asked. I could hear a note of anger creeping
into his voice.

"I'm saying that I know your wife left you. I know you had a long,
bitter divorce." She paused. "I know she left you to be with a white
man."

"Damn it!" he said suddenly and I heard him stand again. "It's not
fair!"

Clara continued as if he hadn't reacted. "Life isn't fair. You're
situation with your ex-wife may not be fair. But that has nothing to do
with me, Jimmy."

"How can you say that? You're doing the same thing!"

"Because it's the truth. And I'm not doing the same thing. I didn't
leave anyone. I've been single for a long time. You're looking for some
nefarious plot at work, because you don't want to accept what happened.
But the sooner you do, the better your life will be. There's someone out
there for you, Jimmy. She just wasn't the one, that's all."

He said, "And you're not the one either, are you?"

I sucked in my breath hearing that. This was the first indication he'd
given that he was interested in Clara personally. She'd never said that.
Judging by her next comment, she didn't know either.

"Me? Well, no. I'm afraid I'm not. Why, Jimmy?"

"Because I wanted ."

"What?"

"I was going to ask you out a long time ago, but it was too soon after
my divorce and I knew you'd turned down everyone else so I . was going
to try and become friends first and I ."

He stopped, obviously at a loss for what to say.

"I had no idea you were interested in me, Jimmy."

I'd kill him if he ever touched her, I thought.

"Would it have made a difference? If you'd known?" he asked.

I wondered what she would say. I didn't have to wait long.

She sighed. "I don't know. Probably not," she said honestly, managing to
tell the truth and say 'I'm sorry' with those two words.

"Why not?"

"We can't choose who we fall in love with, Jimmy. It doesn't work that
way."

"And now? Can we at least be friends?"

"I don't know, that will depend on you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean . that I have no room in my life for bigotry and intolerance .
on either side of the fence. And I have no use in my life for people who
are going to judge the decisions I make based on that prejudice, rather
than the facts."

"The facts?! The facts are you are in a relationship with a white man!"

"Yes, I am. And this affects your life . how? If you can't accept me for
who I am, Jimmy, then there's no way we can be friends. If you can put
aside our differences and accept the decisions I've made, and stop
talking about me behind my back, then we can. Friends don't talk about
each other behind each other's back."

He was silent. She waited a few moments. When he said nothing, she
continued, "My relationship with Walter . it's none of your business,
Jimmy. I don't owe you or anybody else an explanation. But I want to be
able to do my job and get along with all the others on the squad. I
don't want a difference of personal opinions to come between us and our
ability to work together. We need to be able to put any differences
aside."

"When we're on the street, I promise to put my differences aside. That's
the best I can do for now."

Clara sighed. "Then that will have to be enough. I don't want anyone
harassing, Walter either."

He spoke a little too quickly. "What would make you think we planned
that?"

"We?"

He was silent.

"Did you?"

"No!" he answered again, a little too quickly.

"Who's WE, Jimmy?" she asked.

"Nobody, just a . turn of phrase," he replied.

Clara's voice dipped down low and she sounded menacing even to me. "I
mean it, Jimmy. I find out anybody has caused Walter grief and this will
no longer be personal. It will no longer stay between the two of us."

"Meaning what?" he asked, sounding belligerent again.

"Meaning I'll go to the Lieutenant."

"Why?"

"And if I find out who it is . " she continued as if he hadn't asked a
question. "I'll press charges. You can believe that," she ended with
conviction.

"That won't ever be necessary," he said, seemingly acquiescing. I didn't
trust his easy acceptance of her scolding. 

"I hope not. It's not something I would want to do."

"Cops stick together, Clara. They don't squeal on each other."

"When it concerns the job, you're right. When it concerns my personal
life, which I remind you is none of your business, that's a whole other
story."

There was silence again and it stretched out. I decided now would be a
good time to reenter the fray.

I walked calmly into the living room and stared at him. "Are you done,
Clara?"

She nodded. I could see the worry and exhaustion on every line of her
face. 

I looked at him and he was scowling at me from where he stood between
the couch and the door. "She doesn't need this, Officer Williams. She
tires easily and will for a while. I understand that you needed to talk.
But I need to ask you to leave now."

He nodded curtly and I followed him to the door, opening it for him and
saying, "Thank you for bringing the gifts."

He mumbled, "Yeah, whatever," and slipped out the door, leaving me to
close it behind him. 

I sighed deeply and turned to Clara. She was leaning forward in the
chair, her head resting against the palm of her good hand. I approached
her and knelt down in front of her. She looked at me, smiling sadly.
"You obviously heard all that."

"I didn't want to interrupt, but I couldn't help hearing it."

She nodded. "Maybe that will make him think twice, but I don't trust
him, Walter."

"Neither do I."

"I don't think he's the only one."

"At the squad you mean? With his prejudices?"

She nodded again. "I want you to be careful when you go out, Walter."

I didn't think this guy was that much of a threat. He had to know that
he'd be risking his shield and maybe his badge if he perpetrated a crime
against a Federal Officer. I assumed he knew that I was FBI. "I don't
think he'll do anything, Clara. He knows he'd be risking a lot. Besides,
guys like that are a lot of talk mostly. Most of them that talk, don't
do anything. It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for."

She smiled at that. It was an old expression that the quiet ones were
always the dangerous ones. The noisy ones you could at least keep track
of, they didn't come out of nowhere when you weren't looking. "Still, be
careful for a while, all right."

I kissed her nose. "I will. I'll check over my shoulders."

"I don't want to live like that . paranoid."

"We can't, Clara. We can't live in fear. But there's a difference
between fear and being cautious. I promise to be cautious."

She reached out with her good hand and braced it on my shoulder, leaning
forward and kissing me gently. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too." I paused. "I made coffee. Do you want breakfast now?"

"Shower first."

"Oh yeah, forgot about the shower."

She grinned, made an exaggerated motion of smelling her armpit and
wrinkled her nose. "I didn't!"

We chuckled and I helped her gently to her feet. She swayed slightly.
"Are you sure you don't need to lie down again."

"Shower first, then I'll lay down."

"Breakfast?"

"How about breakfast in bed."

"You're on."

"You're becoming quite the little nursemaid, babe."

I grinned as we made our way back into the bedroom. The bathroom was off
the bedroom. There was a half bath off the living room, but this one had
the shower. I gently undressed her, taking off her robe and night shirt,
and slipping her panties down as she stepped out of them. 

We took off her sling, but she kept her arm tucked into her side. Even
injured, the sight of her body had the ability to awaken my libido. I
felt myself harden and turned away from her, sliding my sweatpants down.
She giggled and I turned to her after stepping out of them. "What?"

"How can you be excited?"

I grinned and shrugged. "One look is all it takes."

She shook her head in amusement. "I'm disheveled and dealing with
bedhead, not to mention stitches in my back and my ribs."

"And?" I asked jauntily.

She laughed. "You're a piece of work. I must look like I crawled out
from under a rock."

I approached her and put my hands on her hips, my dick refusing to
acknowledge her comments and growing steadily with every beat of my
heart that fed blood through my body. "You're beautiful to me, Clara. No
injury is going to change that. I like what's inside too."

She leaned her head gently against my chest. "Shower," she muttered.

"Let's go," I urged and gently guided her into the bathroom with my hand
on her lower back.

XXXXXXXXXX

After we showered, I made us breakfast: scrambled eggs and sausage and
toast. I put hers on a tray and carried it into the bedroom, perching on
the end of the bed to eat mine.

"What's on the agenda today?" she asked.

"If you can be alone for a bit, I thought I'd run to the grocery store."

"You spent $200 on groceries yesterday!"

"I know, but I forgot a couple of things."

"I can't imagine what. My cupboards haven't seen this much food in a
decade."

I chuckled. "I also need to run to the bank and check in with my
secretary. Even though I have the week off, I want to make sure she
knows she can call for any emergencies."

Clara nodded and shoved her tray away, her food only half eaten. "You
all right?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, "I'm just not that hungry."

"You have to eat to get your strength back up."

"You made enough for three people, Walter. I don't eat that much."

I frowned, unsure whether to believe her or not. It seemed she used to
eat more, but then again, how many times had I really paid attention to
how much she ate for breakfast. I decided to let it go.

"O.K. I'll just make a phone call to Kimberly and then I'll scoot out to
the grocery store."

Her eyes drooped and then popped open. "God, I'm tired. I need to nap
again. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Sleep when you need to. Tell me to get lost if I'm
keeping you awake."

She smiled and slid down on the bed onto her good side. "No, it hit me
suddenly, probably cause my belly's full."

"I don't know how, you didn't eat enough for a bird."

She grinned. "Quit picking on me," she teased. 

I stood up, leaned over and kissed her chastely on the forehead. "Sleep
now."

I picked up the dishes and went back to the kitchen. I had just finished
loading the dishwasher when the doorbell rang again.

"Sheesh!" I uttered, wondering who it was now. I hoped Officer Williams
had not returned. If he had I was going to turn him away this time.
Clara needed to sleep. 

I was fully dressed now in jeans in a golf shirt when I went to the door
and peeked out the peephole. I spied a splash of red hair and smiled. I
opened the door, smiling down at Agent Scully. She didn't smile back. In
fact, she was frowning.

I opened the door as the smile slid off my face and she entered the
apartment and then spun on her heel to look at me. "What's wrong?" I
asked.

She sighed. "That black Mercedes out in front is yours, right?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"All four tires are flat," she said dully.

"All four ."

I turned, hearing Clara in the doorway to the bedroom. "You're supposed
to be in bed," I scolded, sounding more harsh than I meant to.

She looked at Scully. "Are they slashed?" she asked quietly.

Scully nodded curtly. "Yes, I checked."

I saw tears well up in Clara's eyes and went to her side immediately,
shuffling her back into the bedroom. "Don't worry about it, I'll get it
fixed."

"I'm not worried about that."

"I know, I know," I muttered, petting her head as I guided her back into
bed. "It's just a car. You sleep now and don't worry about it."

"Damn it!" she exclaimed, feebly punching the mattress with her good
hand. 

"Shhh, calm down. Don't get excited about this."

"How can I not? That bastard slashed your tires."

I turned to see Scully standing in the doorway to the bedroom. "What
bastard?"

I frowned at her. "In a minute."

She nodded again and turned and walked away. I turned Clara's face to
meet mine. "It will be all right. I promise."

"How can you promise?"

"Because I can. And we don't know it was him." Although I was sure that
it was. The question was whether he did it before or after his talk with
Clara. That would tell me whether her talk had calmed him down or pissed
him off even more. It was hard to tell. "I'm a big boy and I can take
care of myself."

"I know that!" she pouted, as if I'd insulted her.

"I want you to rest and concentrate on getting better. I'll deal with
this. I don't want you dwelling on it."

She frowned. "I can't help it."

"I know. But try to put it out of your mind for a while. I'll get this
fixed, do my errands and be back shortly. I'm going to ask Agent Scully
to stay here until I get back."

"That's not necessarily, Walter. I'm not an invalid!"

"I know that, but you are weak and you couldn't fight someone off."

"Do you think he'll come back?"

"No, but better safe than sorry. You never know what form anger will
take. Right now it's directed at me. But you effectively rejected him
this morning. His anger could turn on you."

She pulled in a shuddering breath. I didn't want to frighten her or make
her believe things that weren't true. But if I'd learned nothing else
from this relationship and talks with Mulder it was that hiding things
and thoughts from her was a very bad thing to do. She needed to deal
with them in her own way. Not knowing was worse.

She nodded and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes where a few
tears had leaked out. I kissed her cheek and stood up. "Sleep now."

"Be careful," she whispered.

"I will." I stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door softly.

Scully wasted no time. "You want to call the cops, or should I?"

I smiled a humorless smile at her. "I guess I should."

"Good and while we wait you can tell me what this is all about."

I could see by the determined look on her face that she wasn't going to
be put off with a few pat answers. I was going to have to share this
with her. I didn't want to involve her in my personal life, but now
there was no help for it. Sure, I could tell her to go away and handle
it myself. But if I wanted to be friends with her and Mulder, and I did,
I was going to need to take a chance with sharing parts of my life. I'd
already done that with Mulder and was now comfortable talking to him.
But Scully was another matter.

She was different from Mulder. Unlike Clara and Mulder, she didn't have
the psych background. She was a good listener but a different kind of
listener. She saw things in a much starker way than Mulder and Clara
did. But if it wasn't for Scully, I wouldn't be with Clara at all and I
had to remember that too. It was hard to shift the relationship with
subordinates to friends. But I really wanted to do it. I didn't have
enough friends.

I said, "Let me get them over here and we'll go downstairs and wait for
them."

She nodded and waited patiently while I placed the call to the
Georgetown Police.

XXXXXXXXXX

I didn't want this whole thing to escalate. I wondered if I just ignored
it and pretended it never happened if the perpetrators would decide that
it was no fun if they weren't going to get a rise out of me. The logical
part of my brain knew that was ridiculous. They didn't care about
getting a rise out of me, that would be secondary. They wanted me out of
Clara's life. Or at least there was one person who did. 

I gave his name to Officer Beverly Ashton of the Georgetown Police
Department. She was a tall, slender blonde woman with her hair tied back
in a severe bun at the base of her neck, and her uniform cap pulled low
over her brow. She was all business and very efficient. Once she'd taken
pictures and a report, I asked her for a ride to the local garage to get
some tires. 

She then squired me back to Clara's apartment where I changed the tires,
and headed out to the bank and grocery store while Scully stayed with
Clara. While we'd waited for the cop, I'd told her about Officer
Williams and later, had given his name to Officer Ashton. She'd frowned
heavily and asked, "Another cop? Are you sure?"

I'd said, "No, I'm not, but he's had some minor altercations with my
girlfriend and he doesn't like that I'm seeing her. They argued this
morning and he was right here this morning. I can't imagine who else it
could be."

"Why doesn't he like you seeing your girlfriend?" she asked.

I'd almost repeated Clara's words and told her it was none of her
business. But I realized she was only asking to get a handle on how
serious the altercations I was referring to were. I finally said, "My
girlfriend is African-American, so is this cop, Williams. He . doesn't
like the fact that I'm white."

She nodded sharply, thankfully not pursuing it any further. She had a
knowing look on her face. Apparently that was all she wanted or needed
to know. It was enough for her. "I have some friends in D.C. I'll see if
they can do a subtle flip of his cruiser and see if anything turns up."

She'd left, obviously disturbed that another cop would do something like
this. I was finally back and had all the groceries put away when the
doorbell rang again. I came into the living room where Scully was on her
cell phone with Kimberly, retrieving my messages for me.

"This place is like Grand Central," I muttered as I made my way to door.

I opened it to find Mulder standing there looking like the
quintessential G-Man in his gray Armani suit, black trench coat and wrap
around sunglasses. He swept by me without preliminaries, saying, "So I
hear we had a little excitement here this morning."

"Word travels fast," I said, making a face.

He chuckled. "Scully called me while you were out on your tire hunt."

"I figured as much."

Scully hung up her phone and turned her attention to us. "You didn't
have to come, Mulder. We've got everything under control."

"I know I didn't have to come," he stated blandly. "I wanted to.
Besides, I thought maybe I'd take Walter's car and let him drive mine."

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, I'm an armed Federal Agent about town. If somebody's following
the car instead of the man, maybe I can see something."

"Good point," Scully said. 

Mulder held out his keys. "That SUV is two months old. Be nice to it,"
he deadpanned.

I smiled. "I guess I have no say in the matter."

"No," they said in unison.

I laughed. "All right, but nothing says they aren't following ME. This
Officer Williams certainly knows me by sight. If he didn't before, he
does now."

Mulder nodded. "Yeah, but he may be having some friends help him out.
You told Scully he acted funny when Clara brought up the subject of
planning to harass you."

"Maybe because he'd just slashed my tires before he came in here," I
offered.

"Another good point," Scully said. "But we don't know for sure. It can't
hurt to cover all the bases."

"Don't you two have a case to work on or something?" I joked.

They both smiled. Mulder replied. "No, I've been up to my eyeballs in
expense reports and there's more to come. This is the most exciting
thing that's happened to me in a week."

"I'm sorry," I said with a straight face.

They both laughed at that. Scully stood up and held out her hand. I
slapped it as though she were giving me a high five. She shook her head,
amused, and said, "Keys, sir. Where are your keys?"

I yanked them out of the front pocket of my jeans and held them out.
Mulder took them, saying, "I'm taking his car, not you."

She rolled her eyes. "You just want to drive a Mercedes."

"Damn straight, woman," he joked.

I was still smiling when they shuffled out the door, saying they'd check
back later that evening. They were so comfortable and easy with one
another. I wanted that with Clara. Of course they had six more years to
build a friendship then I'd had. I hoped one day, Clara and I would be
that way together, teasing each other and amused by one another on a
regular basis. I realized part of Mulder and Scully's easiness together
was because of the incredible trust they had in one another. They NEVER
took things the wrong way. They always assumed the best, rather than the
worst about what the other one said.

It was now 1:00 in the afternoon and I was hungry. I went to the kitchen
and made a ham and cheese sandwich and carted it into the living room,
picking up the remote and turning on the TV. I kept the volume low so as
not to wake Clara. I wasn't really watching it anyway. 

My mind drifted over the events of the last few days again, trying to
put all the pieces together. The searing question remained, would Clara
marry me if I asked? In light of the events of the last few hours, I
could understand her hesitation a little better now. But if we married,
we would have to be prepared to deal with that sort of thing for the
rest of our lives. That was a heavy commitment to make, one that went
beyond the commitment of marriage. 

It would require a lot of talking and a lot of understanding. I would
need to change some of my behavior as well. I was still prone to taking
things she said the wrong way. I knew it stemmed from the fear of losing
her. As I had discussed with Mulder, I needed to have faith in her and
our relationship. If I trusted her to do what it took to keep this
relationship going, I wouldn't need to fear losing her, not over
internal issues anyway. I would always worry about her being hurt on the
job. This shooting was going to do nothing to calm my fears on that
front.

But I had to stop fearing that she would reject me because of some
imagined slight. And that door swung both ways. I needed to make sure
that I didn't take offense when there was none to be taken. This was
such an explosive issue to most people. I rarely discussed it with
anyone for that simple reason. Passions run high on the subject of race,
creed and a few other touchy subjects that I had spent my life avoiding
rather than discussing, simply because I didn't want to become embroiled
in arguments that nobody wins.

Not choosing is making a choice as well. And I realized as with most
things in life, nothing happens if nothing happens. In other words, if
nobody takes action, nothing changes. If nobody takes a chance, evil is
allowed to grow unchecked. And in my mind, bigotry really was evil. It
was a poison that insidiously crept into peoples' lives and ate them up
from the inside out. I didn't want that to happen to me, Clara or anyone
that I knew.

If I were to combat that, I needed to take a stand and stick with it. I
needed to voice my opinion regardless of the outcome and have faith that
what was meant to be was meant to be. But the fear that what was meant
to be was NOT what I WANTED was what had always held me back in these
situations. What if Clara and I weren't meant to be?

I shook my head to dislodge the thought. I couldn't think like that,
even for a second. I needed to believe that we were meant to be. In my
heart, I felt that. So my fears had held me back for years.

And what had that gotten me? Forty-eight years old, divorced, alone,
lonely and bitter about the hand that life had dealt me. 

Then came Clara.

I was now one year into a relationship with a woman that had stolen my
heart the first time she smiled and showed her dimples and told a bunch
of rookie cops to put their dicks away after a territorial squabble
concerning Mulder and Scully. Her perceptive gifts and her ability to
laugh at herself had only endeared her to me more as the days went by. 

I was completely in love with her and there was no way that was going to
change. So now what? Marriage was the next step. I didn't need it, but I
wanted it and I'd be lying if I said I didn't. But I needed to know that
she was as sure as I was. I needed to know that she was willing and had
the courage to go the distance with me in a relationship that would
surely meet with obstacles from the outside world from time to time.

But nothing happens if nothing happens . if nobody takes a chance. I'd
taken a chance on her. I'd taken a chance with my heart. And so far, she
hadn't let me down. At that moment, I made the decision. I was going to
buy a ring. I might not ask right away. But I needed to have it so that
when the moment was right, I would be prepared. 

I knew that we needed to work out this situation with her work first.
And I would be much happier if Officer Williams was transferred out of
that squad. Considering his situation, I could almost understand his
bitterness in one way. We always look for a target when we are angry and
hurt. And none of us wants that target to be ourselves. But that didn't
make it any easier to tolerate his attitude of prejudice and his
unjustified anger.

I sighed, not coming up with any profound solutions, except that I was
going to buy a ring.

I brought my plate back into the kitchen and left it in the sink,
wondering what to do now. I went to the bedroom and sat on the end of
the bed watching Clara sleep. She was so beautiful to me. 

I whispered into the silence of the room, "I love you so much, Clara."

She made a murmuring sound in the back of her throat and then whispered,
"Walter."

I smiled, knowing she was thinking of me, even in sleep. I stood and
stripped, and carefully climbed into bed and snuggled up behind her. It
was the middle of the afternoon and I didn't care. I needed to hold her.
I needed to be close and just relax, holding her warm skin against my
chest.

I buried my nose in her hair, carefully slipping an arm under her pillow
above her head. She hummed in the back of her throat and snuggled
backwards into my chest. I felt contentment wash through my body and I
sighed, kissing her hair.

I must have been more tired than I thought, because the next thing I
knew, I was waking up to the shrill sound of my cell phone ringing on
the bedside table. I glanced at the clock, seeing that it was 5:00 PM.
Shit, I'd slept for nearly three hours.

It was Mulder checking in again. I managed to slip out of bed and dress
while we were talking. I made my way into the kitchen to decide what to
make for dinner while I talked with him.





PART 7 (R )

ONE WEEK LATER

TWO BLOCKS FROM FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT

ALEXANDRIA, VA

5:30PM

I was really enjoying driving this Mercedes. You never realized how much
difference there was between a pedestrian car like the government issue
Ford Taurus and the Mercedes, until you had the fortune to tool around
town in a luxury vehicle like this.

I stopped at a stoplight, wondering what we could do for dinner. Scully
was coming over after going home to change her clothes. It had been
another boring day in the basement plowing through paperwork and old
expense reports. We did need to get them done. The job owed me a lot of
money for back expenses. It didn't really hurt me that much. Money was
one thing I had. But Scully didn't and I hated that she was hung up for
her reimbursement because of my laziness.

Just as the light turned green, three black men in street clothes
wearing gang matching jackets fanned out in front of my car. I reached
over and hit the switch that locked all four doors. I revved the engine
in warning.

One of them began drumming on the hood of the car. Let's call him Punk #
1. I inched forward and he hopped back, continuing his drumming with a
maniacal look on his face. The other two were laughing. 

I hit the gas lurching forward and knocking the young man to the
pavement. The laughter ended abruptly as the man popped back up,
obviously unhurt. I heard a shout of "God Damn, Man!" and "Mother
Fucker!" I revved the engine once more, but just as I was about to speed
out of the intersection, one of them standing to my side now, pulled a
pistol out of his jacket pocket and aimed it right at the car. Punk # 2.


I threw the car in park. Unless I wanted to run the men over, I wasn't
going anywhere. The car behind me pulled a U-turn, squealing it's tires.
The driver must have seen Punk # 2 with the gun.

"Get out of the car, mother fucker!" Punk # 2 yelled, pointing the gun
directly at my head. His hand was nice and steady. No stranger to
weapons, this one. 

Reflex made me leap to the side, flattening myself against the plush
brown leather seats as the driver side window shattered above my head,
spraying safety glass everywhere. I felt the little squares of glass
raining down on my head. I lifted my torso just enough to get a grip on
my weapon and yanked it out of my holster as I heard the distinctive
'thunk' of the door locks disengaging.

I sat up, spinning around and bringing my weapon to bear at the same
time I felt the driver door being lurched open. I kicked fiercely with
both legs and sent the door opening must faster than the little bastard
anticipated. It caught Punk # 1 in the abdomen.

I heard him grunt and the air whoosh out of his lungs as he sailed
backwards, landing on his back on the cement sidewalk. I hollered,
"Don't move. I'm FBI! Drop your weapon!"

As I shouted, I emerged to stand up, keeping my weapon trained on Punk #
2, with the gun. I saw Punk # 3 go slightly pale under his brown skin
but then he ducked his head and rushed me, apparently knowing that I
wouldn't fire without good cause. His head caught me in the solar
plexus, sending me flying back into the side of the car. I grunted,
feeling my chest explode in pain. I shook my head trying to stay
conscious as I dragged air into my chest, feeling the burning sensation
of bruised ribs and realizing I'd dropped my weapon.

I looked up to see that he had retreated and bent over the young man on
the sidewalk. He said, "Ty, he's out cold. Hit his head. Let's get out
of here."

"Hey, Uncle Asshole didn't tell us he was a fucking Fed! Shit, man," my
attacker responded. 

Now I knew he was called Ty. Who was Uncle Asshole? I looked to him to
find him pointing a Glock 9mm and my Sig Sauer at my chest. "What do you
want?" I panted.

"Your hide, white boy," he said. 

The young man on the ground was groaning and coming around. His
companion said, "SequinMan, can you get up?" The man grunted and hauled
himself into a sitting position as the ringleader with the guns glanced
nervously between us.

It was amazing how traffic just went along it's merry way as I stood
there on the sidewalk with my back against the car with a punk waving
two guns in my face. People just didn't want to get involved these days.
Can't say as I blamed them.

I tried to distract him. "What did I do to you?" I rasped out. "You want
my wallet, take it!" I spat out. I extracted my wallet and tossed it at
his feet. 

He laughed at me and said, "No, I think we're going to go for a ride. In
the back, hot shot." He grabbed my arm, spinning me away from the car
after jamming my Sig into his belt. He opened the back door of the car
and shoved me hard. I lost my balance and went sprawling face first onto
the upholstery with my legs hanging out the door.

"Up we go," he chortled.

Behind me I heard one of them say. "Let's just get out of here Ty."

Tyrone? Tyler? I wondered what the kid's real name was.

I scrambled into a sitting position, wondering what the hell I was going
to do to get out of this one and feeling not a little bit stupid that
I'd dropped my weapon and been taken over so easily.

Ty turned to his companions and said, "We got paid to do a job and we're
going to do it. Get in the fucking car."

The two men struggled to get up, one helping the other. The injured man
was slid into the car and over into the passenger seat. The other got
behind the wheel. I still didn't know his name, the one that had head
butted me. Ty slid in beside me. I opened my mouth to tell him there was
no way to get away with this when his fist flew into my face without
warning. My head snapped back on my neck and I felt the skin on my cheek
split and warm blood begin to trickle down the side of my face as pain
blossomed in my head. I leaned my head against the window and grasped
the door handle, trying not to pass out as dizziness assailed me.

Just then I heard the squealing of tires as a green Ford Taurus flashed
by the window and parked kiddy corner in front of the Mercedes,
preventing us from making an escape, forward anyway. The driver slammed
the car into reverse and hit the gas, spinning the tires as he backed
up.

My heart sank as I saw Scully exit the car, weapon drawn. As we picked
up speed in reverse, tires bumping on and off the curb, she went into a
firing stance, took aim and fired .

It sounded like an explosion went off under the car and we spun around
out of control, all of them cursing.

"Fuck! Man!"

"Oh, shit!"

"Damn, get out of here, G!"

I was gripping the headrest of the passenger seat to keep upright as we
spun and our driver jammed the car in and out of drive, trying to find a
way to accelerate away from the scene. Smoke from the spinning back tire
billowed up past the window of the car, filling my nostrils with the
stink.

We couldn't go anywhere; the front rim of the car was hung up on the
curb. Scully had fired out the front driver side tire.

Two black and white patrol cars came flying onto the scene.

Scully was jogging awkwardly in a crouch as she approached the car as
one patrol car approaching from the side street and another from the
oncoming traffic boxed in the Mercedes.

Four officers emerged from the black and white patrol cars and
surrounded the vehicle shouting, "Police! Put your weapons down and exit
the car with your hands on your head!"

I heard a chorus of "Shit, shit, fuckin' honkies, pigs," and other such
epitaphs as they conceded defeat and opened the doors of the car. The
patrolmen were grabbing them and cuffing them when I remembered my gun.
He'd put his on the floor of my car but my pistol was still in his belt.


"He's got my gun in his belt!" I shouted to the officer as I stumbled
out of the car and went down on all fours as pain ripped through my
chest. Scully was beside me in an instant.

I was too late. I heard the shot reverberate in the air, and let out a
cry of horror and frustration. Scully was on her feet and firing at the
young man before the cop had crumpled to the ground. She fired out his
shoulder and he dropped my gun. More sirens and cruisers approached the
scene, stopping traffic and assisting in rounding up the three young men
as they called over the radio that they had two 'Officers down'. 

Two Officers down? Oh yeah, that would be me! I wasn't used to being
referred to as an officer.

Ty was transported to the hospital in an ambulance with a police escort.
The Officer had been hit in the chest but off to the side. Hopefully no
vital organs were hit. He was still conscious and breathing as they took
him away, lights flashing and sirens squealing.

A third ambulance came for me although I insisted I was all right.
Scully wouldn't hear it and went with me in the ambulance to the
hospital. I gave a statement in the ambulance as we left the black and
white to take care of towing the cars and cleaning up the glass off the
street.

Turns out I did have two cracked ribs which did not make me a happy
camper. Although I had enjoyed my down time, I was starting to itch to
get back out in the field. That was not possible until my ribs healed. I
knew Scully would forbid it.

Turns out the three young men were indeed gang members. I'd never heard
of the Panther Skulls gang, but then again, I didn't work the streets
and was by no means an expert on gangs. There were new ones popping up
every day.

There names were Tyrone Brown, Cashus Sequin, and . George Williams.

George Williams being a nephew of one, James Williams, D.C.P.D.

Shit.

I went down the police station after being patched up and accompanied
Scully into the observation room while two detectives went to work on
the three of them in separate rooms, playing one off the other expertly.
Tyrone had been stitched up and released. He sat sullenly with his arm
in a sling. Under the crunch, it came out that George's uncle had hired
them and paid a hefty sum to have the three of them beat up one, Walter
Skinner, who drove a black, Mercedes, license plate AD583. 

They all looked a little more worried after they were told that not only
was I a Federal Officer but I wasn't Walter Skinner. And that Walter
Skinner wasn't just a Federal Officer but he was an Assistant Director
with the FBI. After thinking one had ratted the others, they each began
to rat on each other and the whole story fell into place. Assaulting a
Federal Officer was a serious enough offense. Add to that possession of
a deadly weapon, possession of an unregistered hand gun, destruction of
property, grand theft auto, attempted kidnapping of a Federal Officer,
discharge of a deadly weapon on a public thoroughfare, conspiracy to
commit assault, . and the list goes on, these boys were looking at some
serious jail time if they didn't start singing.

Meanwhile, Scully had placed a call to Clara and Walter. Skinner showed
up near the end of the interrogation and waited for us to give him the
whole story. When they boys were in lock up we all went down to see
them. My ribs were killing me even though they were taped up and my head
was pounding from the sock I'd received to the head. I just wanted to go
home.

The boys were in separate cells and we escorted Skinner as he peered
into each of the cells and took a good look at each young man, having a
staring contest with each one. He won each staring contest and then
announced that he was Walter Skinner and if they were going to beat
anyone up, they should at least know who they were looking for and why.

No responses came from the dejected three as they sat in their jail
cells and stared at Skinner. His base voice and calm delivery made him
seem more menacing than if he'd yelled at them.

After issuing a warrant for the arrest of Officer Williams for
conspiracy to commit assault on a Federal Officer, we left the downtown
precinct and headed back to Alexandria.

Skinner gave us a ride home. His car was impounded and being cleaned up
for evidence. Then it would go into the shop for repairs. He
requisitioned a car for himself and said he would drop mine off at my
apartment tomorrow. 

Scully and I climbed into bed exhausted. She was fussing over me, which
I didn't mind at all. But I'd never tell her that. It was the one
advantage of getting hurt. I got Scully's undivided attention. It had
been one exciting day. At least now they had the evidence to take
Williams off the force. The guy had some serious personal issues to work
on, I thought. That was the understatement of the year.

XXXXXXXXXX

CLARA JORDAN'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, VA

LATER THAT EVENING

I no sooner shut the door when she appeared in the doorway to the
bedroom, wearing one of my tee shirts that hung like a gunnysack around
her slight frame. I could see the pale blue outline of her panties
through the shirt. 

I smiled softly at her and went to her, not saying a word. I took her
gently in my arms, careful not to jostle her injuries. She laid her head
on my chest and said, "Tell me everything."

"Later, love."

"No, Walter, I need to know now and the waiting has been killing me
already." She paused. "Please, Walter."

"O.K., but go put some warm sweat pants on or something. It's chilly in
here. I'll turn up the heat."

She nodded and turned back into the bedroom saying, "I made some
spaghetti. There's some left in the pot. You just need to warm it up."

"Thanks," I mumbled, realizing how hungry I was. I'd skipped dinner
during all the excitement. She must have been starved to get up and make
herself spaghetti. I felt guilty that I hadn't thought to leave
something easy for her to eat before I left.

I put some spaghetti into a bowl and popped it in the microwave while I
waited for her to put on some warm clothes. I turned up the thermostat a
bit. When the microwave dinged, I took out my bowl, grabbed a fork and
went into the living room, setting up a TV tray. She emerged and sat
down on the sofa with me, reclining into the corner.

She sighed. "What happened and how bad was it?"

All she knew at this point was that some people had tried to beat up
Agent Mulder and they were now in custody and it probably had something
to do with me.

I chewed and swallowed and then said, "Three men accosted him at a
traffic light, drumming on the hood of the car, not letting him pass. He
tried to threaten them with the car but it didn't work. Then one of them
fired out the driver side window.

"He had a gun?!" she asked anxiously.

"Yes, there were three of them. Somehow Mulder was missed by that
bullet. I don't think they meant to hit him. They wanted to get into the
car. He managed to hurt one of them by kicking the car door, but the
other one attacked him and the guy with the gun somehow got a hold of
his weapon."

"Jesus, Walter. Did they think he was you?"

"It looks that way. They were told to look for my car and given the
license plate number. But they weren't told what I do for a living."

"Shit, told to look for your car. What do you mean by that?"

"They are gang members, Clara."

"Oh God."

"They were hired."

"Hired? To beat you up? To kill you?"

I held up a hand to settle her down, took another bite of my spaghetti,
chewed and swallowed. Then I said, "No, they didn't want to kill me, or
him. But I think they were going to take him someplace secluded and beat
him up, rough him up good. The idea was to scare him off."

"Who hired them?"

"I'll get to that in a minute."

She nodded.

"Scully was on her way to Mulder's and came upon the scene. He was only
two blocks from his apartment building. She blocked their escape and
fired out a tire so they couldn't take off. She says she'd had no time
to call the cops, so some concerned passerby must have called the local
P.D. Because some patrol cars showed up and helped apprehend them all.
One of the patrolman got shot and Scully shot the shooter. It was a real
mess. The cop was shot with Mulder's stolen weapon."

"Real mess doesn't begin to describe it. Are they known criminals?"

"Yes, petty stuff. They are all gang members. None of them convicted of
anything serious. But they have some breaking and entering and larceny
charges in the past, stuff like that. This is much heavier than they
have ever faced. One, they didn't know that Mulder, or I, as they
thought he was Me, was FBI. They didn't know that I was an A.D. And they
got pinched for the illegal weapons, discharging, assaulting a Fed, etc.
There's a whole list. I think they were really frightened for the first
time in their lives."

"Who hired them?"

I ignored her question, wondering how she was going to take it when I
told her. She obviously suspected as she kept going back to that.

"Mulder has two cracked ribs and a split cheek but he's going to be
fine. All three of these kids were young, 21, 19 and 23."

"What are their names?"

I sighed. " Tyrone Brown, Cashus Sequin, and . George Williams."

She swallowed and said softly, "George Williams?"

I nodded curtly.

"Any relation?"

I nodded again. "He's his nephew."

"Oh shit. God, Walter, I was afraid something like this was going to
happen. Damn it!"

"Calm down. Everything's going to be all right."

"How am I supposed to calm down!?" she exclaimed.

"Because he's no longer going to be a threat."

"What do you mean?"

"He's the one that hired them, Clara. Jimmy Williams' nephew is in a
gang and he hired them to come after me. There's a warrant out for his
arrest right now."

Her face crumpled and she lowered her head into her hands. I pushed my
TV tray away and scooted down the couch to wrap her in my arms. She
leaned on me heavily and cried quietly for a few minutes. 

When her sniffling signaled the return of her control I gently pried her
head off my chest and gazed at her tear stained face. "I love you,
Clara. I don't want us to go through this, obviously. But if we are
going to . make this relationship survive, we may have to come to terms
with some ugly facts."

She sniffled again, reached for the tissue box on the coffee table and
blew her nose as I let her pull out of my arms. When she was finished,
she turned to look at me. Quietly, but with conviction she said, "I did
a lot of thinking in the last few hours while you were gone."

I felt a pulling sensation in my chest, and unfamiliar fear rose up in
me. I was still afraid she was going to tell me to take a hike. Instead
she said, "I love you, Walter. And I decided that . nobody is going to
take that away from me."

I smiled gently, feeling tears sting my eyes. I blinked rapidly and they
didn't fall. I kept my eyes glued on her face. "I have spent my whole
life looking for a relationship like the one we have -- one based on
love and respect, not neediness and ridiculous expectations. I'm not
willing to hand that over easily. It's worth fighting for, that's what I
decided."

I smiled wider now and asked, "And what does that mean to you exactly?
Fighting for it?"

"It means that this relationship is more important than any job, any
comfort zone with my coworkers, more important than everything else. I
don't want to live in fear, but I realized I'm being stubborn. I'm
bringing some of it on myself."

I felt bewildered now. "What do you mean? You're not being stubborn. And
it's all right to be afraid. I am sometimes too."

"I mean that I cling to this idea that if I don't meet things head on,
I'm being a coward."

"I'm not following you," I told her.

"I'm going to request a transfer."

I sucked in a little gasp. "Clara . I don't want you to leave something
you love and then resent me for it later."

"No, I won't. I love being a cop and that I won't give up. But I thought
about it. I mean, does it really matter where I do it? Why not
Georgetown? Why not downtown D.C.? Why not capital hill? There's lots of
jobs out there."

"And what about Timmy?"

She swallowed. "That's the hardest part. I really love him, Walter. Not
the way I love you," she grinned and then continued, her face returning
to a serious expression. "But he's the best partner I ever had and it's
hard to change and learn somebody new."

"Yes, it is. Would he consider transferring with you?"

She looked at her lap. "I don't know. He thinks we do the most good in
the Southeast. He's an idealist, no matter what he tells you. He's said
he doesn't want a 'wimp' job, that's not why he became a cop."

"He told me you inspired him and reminded him of why he became a cop in
the first place."

She smiled a sad smile then. "That's sweet of him, but that door swings
both ways."

"He obviously respects and likes you, Clara. He considers you his
partner, but he considers you his friend too. I think he will respect
any decision you make. And so will I. If you think you need to stay
where you are, I won't give you trouble about it."

"But you won't like it."

"No, but I won't try to convince you to go elsewhere. As I said, if you
make a decision to move, I want it to be because you want to move and it
will make you more comfortable. I don't want to be part of that equation
because you'd only resent me for it later."

"But you are part of that equation, no matter what."

I sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, Clara, except that I will
support you in whatever decision you make."

She smiled then and leaned over slightly to place a peck on my lips. She
pulled back and smiled. "I'm going to transfer. I don't want to live in
fear."

"What about your thought that there are bigots everywhere?"

"There are, but they are more vocal and willing to act out in some
places."

"Like your precinct."

"Yes, poverty and oppression breed hatred and an attitude that you just
don't care anymore."

"You've always said that we need more cops in Southeast, not less."

"Yes, I have. But do I have to be one of them? It makes me sound
slightly hypocritical I know. But is my pride and integrity, and
standing up for my beliefs worth the price?"

"That's the big question."

She swallowed harshly again. "Like I said, I've spent twenty years
defending what I believe in and becoming my own woman. But like you
said, 'you have to pick your battles.' I've waged mine for a long time
now and I'm tired. I think I deserve a little happiness and a little
piece of mind."

"I agree. Just because you opt for something to make your life easier
doesn't mean your giving up your ideals."

"Doesn't look like I'm selling out?"

I shook my head in the negative. "Not to me. Some people might see it
that way, but again, it's all about what you believe and how much you
care what others think."

She hung her head. "I'm tired of proving myself. I'm tired of worrying
about what other people think. If staying here, living in fear, and
possibly losing you is the price I need to pay to be true to my ideals
then . it's just not worth it to me anymore."

"Maybe it's time to let some young bucks take over. Fresh blood, fresh
conviction and attitudes and all that," I pondered aloud. "I think we've
both paid our dues.

She nodded in agreement. "I'm too old for this shit, Walter."

I laughed then and she chuckled with me. It was good to see her smile
and I noticed that she didn't wince. I caught her eyes and said, "Are
you feeling better? You didn't wince when you laughed." I was changing
the subject and we both knew it.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I felt more
energetic today and had less pain. I did take my pain pills though."

"Good, you should. If you're in pain, you will heal that much slower."

"I know, I just don't like the way they make me feel sometimes."

"It's a trade off, but it's not for much longer."

"Another three weeks or so."

"So . " I began.

"So . " she said, grinning.

"Where do we go from here?"

"I'll call my Lieutenant tomorrow and request that he send me the
transfer papers to fill out. I'll call Timmy and ask him to come over so
I can discuss it with him and ask him if he wants to come with me."

"No doubt you'll get the transfer?" I asked.

"I don't know, but in light of everything, I think Lt. Stein will
understand."

I nodded. "He won't like losing both of you if Timmy decides to make the
request as well."

"No, he won't, but he's a fair man. He'll understand."

"He'll be losing Williams too. That's three detectives in one blow."

She sighed. "I can't worry about that. There's plenty of people wanting
their gold shields, that were passed over when the last positions came
up. They'll be no shortage of candidates to take our place."

I nodded. "Should I make some calls?"

"To influence his decision, you mean?"

I shrugged. "I know people that could make it happen without the red
tape."

"No, Walter. I know what you want to do, but I'll go through all the
proper channels. I don't want special treatment. People are going to
frown on this as it is."

"Do you care?"


"Not really, but we don't need to do anything to add ammunition to their
opinions."

"O.K., then what?"

"Huh?"

"When you get a transfer. Let's assume that you do. What then?"

"Now I'm not following you."

I let silence fill the room between us and licked my lips, feeling a
flutter of nervousness. Was it the wrong time to broach this subject? I
wondered. But it was all connected. If she were going to make a change,
maybe making them all at once would be a good thing.

I met her gaze again and said softly, "Live with me, Clara."

Her eyes widened for a second and then she looked away and sniffed.
"Walter ."

"Did you mean it?"

"What?"

"That this relationship is worth fighting for?"

"Of course, but living together is a huge commitment."

As if realizing what she had just said, she raised her face to mine and
pressed her lips together. 

I smiled sadly, a little hurt, despite my efforts not to be. Slowly, I
said, "Yes, Clara. A huge commitment is what I want. Haven't I made that
clear by now?"

"You're right. I didn't mean to imply that I don't want to ."

"Advance this relationship?"

She just looked at me in silence, looking confused and unsettled. I held
out my arms and she carefully came into them. I leaned back against the
armrest of the couch and pulled my legs up, gently pulling her between
my legs to rest on my torso. Her arms went around my waist.

"Think about it," I said. "I was just thinking that if you were going to
make changes, maybe we could make them all at once. You're going to have
to make some adjustments anyway."

"Yes, but can I handle them all at once? That's what I want to know."

"I'm being selfish. I know that. But I can't help it. I want you with
me, Clara. I want to come home to you every night. I want to be a couple
in every sense of the word."

"We aren't now?"

"We are but we still live apart. We shuffle between apartments, we
maintain two homes. What for? One of us is always with the other
anyway."

"That's true. We do spend most nights together."

"I know it's different when you know that you have a place to go if you
need to leave. But I'd hoped we gotten past that. I hoped we had gotten
to the point where we had no doubts that we could both make that
commitment to one another. To live together, to get engaged, to start
thinking of this as a forever thing."

"A forever thing," she repeated quietly.

"That's what I want it to be, Clara."

"I contradict myself a lot, don't I?"

"Sometimes."

"I'm just realizing how often I do it. I say I want to fight for this
relationship and then I balk at the idea of living together. I say I
love you and then I hesitate to get engaged. I say I don't care what
people think and then I tell you not to help me get my transfer. Jesus!"
she finished, sounding exasperated with herself.

I chuckled. "You do confuse me sometimes. But I don't doubt that your
motives are pure. I understand that you are feeling your way through
this thing and this is all new territory. For me too. But I know what I
want Clara. I know that I love you. And those things are not going to
change. For me, I don't see any reason to keep pussy footing around the
real issue here."

"The real issue?" she asked.

"I want you to be mine, Clara, totally mine. I don't just want to live
together. I want you to be my wife. I want you to be Mrs. Walter
Skinner."

She pulled air into her lungs and squeezed me around the middle. I
kissed her hair waiting for her response. She repeated my words, "Mrs.
Walter Skinner," as though trying it out.

I felt her lips smile against my collarbone. "I like the sound of that,"
she added.

My heartbeat accelerated. "Do you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Will you marry me, Clara?" I blurted out, wanting to smack myself as
soon as I did it.

Then I was blown away when she stretched up and put her lips to my ear
and whispered, "Yes, I will."

I just started crying, unable to process the sweeping emotion that
rolled through me as it hit me that she had actually agreed to become my
wife. 

She levered up on her elbows and brought her hands to my face, wiping my
tears with her fingers. "Shhh, shhh, Walter," she whispered.

She kissed me and I kissed her back, as silent, warm tears still coursed
down my face. Our kisses became hungry and I pulled away not wanting to
get too excited. She was still to fragile to make love. But I knew she
felt my erection surge against her tummy as our kiss had deepened.

"I love you, Walter."

"I love you, Clara, more than you'll ever know." I paused, then
remembered the ring. "Oh shit!"

"What?" she asked, looking only slightly alarmed. 

I sat up gently, extricating her from my body. I mumbled, "Be right
back."

"What's wrong?" she asked again.

"Nothing. I'll be right back."

I darted into the kitchen where I had left my briefcase and popped it
open, taking out the small black, velvet box. I snapped my case closed
and darted back into the living room. Instead of sitting on the couch I
kneeled in front of her on one knee. "Let me do this the right way," I
said, my voice sounding gravel to my own ears.

She tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?" she asked, looking
truly confused.

I held up the little box and popped it open to reveal the ring that I
had bought, a marquis diamond set in a thick, white gold band. She
gasped and I asked her again, clearing my throat dramatically first,
"Clara Jordan, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

It was her turn to cry tears of joy. I smiled broadly and she
tentatively reached for the ring and popped it out of the box, holding
it up and looking at it. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

"Are you going to wear it or just stare at it all night," I teased.

She barked out a laugh and then I took her hand and we both slid it onto
her finger. It was a perfect fit. I'd pilfered one of her other rings
from her jewelry box to get the size. She curled her hand into a loose
fist and I cradled her hand in between mine. We both looked at it for
several long moments and then she said, "I'd be honored to be your wife,
Walter."

Then she looked at me and said, "I can hardly believe this," as if truly
not comprehending what we'd just done.

I smiled again and rose up on my knees to be face level with her.
"Believe it," I whispered and leaned in to kiss her again. I couldn't
wait to make love to her. The waiting was going to be torture.



PART 8 (NC-17)

FOUR WEEKS LATER

WALTER SKINNER'S APARTMENT

We'd picked out a townhouse together and put a down payment on it this
morning. The closing was next week. I was on Cloud 9. Clara had stayed
with me these last three weeks while we looked for a place, finally
finding a beautiful, two-bedroom townhouse in Georgetown. We had decided
not to use either apartment that we currently maintained. Her place
would always be her place. And my place would always be my place. We'd
lived in our respective apartments for too long.

We wanted a fresh start and wanted a home that would be OUR place.
Clara's transfer had been granted. Timmy had decided to follow her. I
had asked the Chief of Police in D.C., a friend of mine, to see what he
could do about getting Timmy and Clara transferred together into the
same squad. Timmy had said he would only make the move if he could
remain Clara's partner. 

It had all gone through with a minimum of fuss. Mulder and Scully had
been very supportive and overly happy when we announced our engagement.
They decided to throw us an engagement party which was scheduled for
next week. We all wanted Clara to be completely healed so she could
enjoy herself. I'd wondered out loud who the hell they were going to get
to come to a party for me since I didn't have that many friends. 

They'd rolled their eyes and told me to leave it all to them. I was
happy to do that. I was a little taken aback that they wanted to throw a
party. But then again, I had no problems with the idea of announcing to
the world that Clara was going to be my wife. 

We even went to a picture studio and had a formal picture taken of us,
me sitting behind her sideways on a bench and us both turned to face the
camera. The picture along with the engagement announcement went into
three different newspapers. I'd gone back to work last week to find a
stack of messages and cards as people expressed their congratulations. I
was a little stunned at the response. I figured most people at the
Bureau wouldn't care enough to say anything.

Clara was starting work next week on her new job at Precinct Two in
Georgetown. The other advantage of transferring was that she would be
working close to home once we moved into our new place. We would stay in
Alexandria in my place till that time came. We had already been clearing
her place out and putting her stuff in storage so her landlord could
rent the place again as soon as possible.

As we got ready for bed, I smiled at her and said, "I can't wait to move
and have it all over with."

"Yeah, the anticipation is fun, but it's a lot of work arranging all the
logistics."

"It will all be over soon."

"I know. Are we going to set a date?"

I spun around and looked at her as I kicked my pants off and stood in
front of her in only my boxer briefs. "Do you want to set a date?"

She grinned. "I think I do."

I grinned at her. "All right. Any ideas?"

"Not really. Let's sit down with our calendars tomorrow and figure it
out. I've been thinking that it would be fun to announce the date at the
engagement party."

"Good idea."

Her eyes roamed over my chest and down over my legs. I felt my groin
tingle under her perusal. It had been seven, long frustrating weeks of
mere cuddling and kissing and I was masturbating in the shower on a
regular basis now to keep my libido under control. I didn't want to be
pushy but I was going crazy waiting for her to heal. She'd seemed back
to normal for about a week now but I knew she still experienced twinges
of pain her and there and I knew her energy level wasn't one hundred
percent yet.

She sat up and pulled her tee shirt over her head, tossing it onto the
floor, revealing that she wasn't wearing any panties under her tee
shirt. I let out a little hum in the back of my throat and she grinned
like the cat that ate the canary.

"Tease," I admonished as I felt my dick grow steadily harder as I let my
eyes travel over her lush breasts and flat tummy. She laid back slowly
on the bed, putting her hands up above her head and stretching her
torso, making her breasts stick up in the air. 

I watched her nipples pucker in the cool air and yanked my boxers off,
crawling onto the bed on all fours. I was hard as a rock and throbbing
already with anticipation. This had to be an offer. I had told her she
needed to tell me when she was ready to be intimate again. She wouldn't
tease me like this. Would she? Was she telling me she was ready?

As if she'd read my mind, she looked at me and deliberately raised her
knees, placing her feet flat on the bed and holding out her arms. She
let her legs fall open and I groaned, sliding between her wide open
thighs.

When my engorged cock touched her center, we both moaned and I covered
her mouth with mine. She kissed me passionately and played with my
tongue. I supported my weight on my elbows and moved down to suckle on
her neck.

She hissed and arched her pelvis against me, making me grunt with the
added pressure on my aching cock. I pulled away and rasped out, "If
you're teasing me, Clara, you're being very cruel."

Her delighted laughter bounced off the walls and then she swallowed her
mirth and said, "No, I'm not teasing, silly. Make love to me. It's been
too long."

"I'll second that," I replied and kissed her again. 

She moaned when I sucked her turgid nipple and flicked it with my
tongue. My name fell over her lips like a prayer, "Wwaalltteerr ."

I asked, "Do you want to be on top?"

She opened her eyes and shook her head. "No, I want you to do the work,"
she replied, a tease in her voice.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, I'm like brand new."

"Tell me if anything is too much."

She reached between us and grasped my cock. I groaned. She said, "Shut
up and take me."

I grunted. I loved it when she said things like that. I braced myself on
my elbows, as she pulled me gently, lining me up with her entrance. Her
legs came up to wrap around my waist, her ankles locking together just
above my ass. She pulled her legs down against my back, showing her
impatience and I chuffed with amusement and sank into her slowly.

I moaned like I was dying as I felt my engorged cock sink into her wet
warmth for the first time in almost two months. I whispered, "Awwwwww,
God help me, I'd almost forgotten how good this feels."

"Mmmmmm," she hummed. "Oh, fill me up, baby."

I grunted again, gave up the slow slide inside and snapped my hips,
burying myself deep in her well. We both groaned and just lay there,
still, enjoying the feeling of penetration. It never ceased to amaze me
how snug she was, even after having made love to me for nearly a year.

But when we hadn't made love in a while it was even more apparent. I
began to move and muttered, "Oh man, you're always so tight, Clara."

She actually giggled and said, "You forget how big you are."

"I know but . oh god . I thought you would . stretch ." I gave up trying
to talk as she lifted her hips to meet my thrust and I felt a aching
throb wash through my cock that robbed me of my speech.

After a couple more slow strokes she said, "I do exercises so I don't
get . stretched . loose."

I groaned and felt the wonder of it all wash over me again. I was making
love to the woman of my dreams. I still couldn't believe it sometimes,
how much love I felt for her. How in tune we were with one another. It
blew me away sometimes.

She gasped out, "You won't hurt me. Faster. Harder."

I moaned and sped up, feeling my orgasm coil at the base of my spine and
my balls twinge with the impact against her ass. It felt so good. I
whispered in her ear, "So good, Clara. Oh, you're mine. You're really
mine."

"Yes, I'm yours. Oh, a little faster. A little harder."

I sped up again, careful not to impact her too hard, despite her
assurances that she was totally healed. No need to tempt fate. I'd never
forgive myself if I hurt her.

She began to whimper and toss her head as I ground my crotch against
hers at the bottom of every stroke. I bent down and sucked her hardened
nipple into my mouth. She shouted, "Oh YES, suck it! Make me come!" I
sucked hard and lapped with my tongue. "Oh, don't stop!"

I sucked hard and ground myself against her harshly while fully
embedded. She moaned out, "Oh yeah, that's it! I'm coming!"

I felt her thighs vibrate against my hips as her inner walls waved
around my aching cock, squeezing with exquisite pressure. She shouted,
"Oh Goooddd, Yes, Yes, Walter. Oh God, don't stop!

I shouted as I plunged my cock into her waving tunnel. I couldn't hold
out and my own orgasm washed over me, her tight walls continuing to
convulse and milking my throbbing cock for every drop of cum. I sagged,
but hitched up so as not to put my weight on her. Her arms pulled me
down and I gasped out, "Don't want to crush you."

"You won't. Stop worrying. I want to feel you on top of me."

I sagged lower, sliding my elbows up the bed, but still holding some of
my weight. She sighed at the contact and pressed her breasts against my
now sweaty chest. She mumbled, "It's always so good. How can it keep
being this good?"

I smiled and kissed her gently. "Because I love you," I answered and
buried my nose in her hair.

"We're really going to be O.K." she said. It was a statement.

"Yes, we are," I replied firmly.

She tightened her internal muscles and I groaned as my flaccid penis
slid out of her, creating a big wet spot on the sheets. I rolled off her
and pulled her into my side. She cuddled up to me and pressed her
breasts to my side. 

"I'm sorry I had so many doubts . before," she said softly.

"Forget about it. We're together now and that's all that counts."

"I feel bad that I doubted . that we could overcome these . things."

"We can overcome anything as long as we love each other and keep
talking."

She nodded and I shivered as her hair brushed over my sensitized nipple.
"I know we're not the first black and white couple to brave the odds,"
she added.

"And we won't be the last."

"No, but sometimes it feels like we are the only ones."

"We're not, I'm sure."

"I heard about this group in Falls Church, VA."

I tensed. "What kind of group?" I wondered if it was some other hate
group that I knew nothing about. There were so many. I'd been doing
research lately and unearthed some really disturbing information about
various neo-Nazi groups, KKK groups still in existence and other types
of groups that vented their rage on foreigners, gays, interracial
relationships, etc. 

She surprised me when she said, "It's called the Salt and Pepper group."

I laughed, realizing I had totally misinterpreted her question. "The
Salt and Pepper Group?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, it's sort of a . support group."

"Uh oh," I said, not being able to see myself in a support group, saying
'Hi, my name is Walter and I'm in an interracial relationship.' I
laughed to myself.

She said, "No, it's not what you think. They are just a group of
interracial couples that get together about once a month to have dinner
and talk about life."

"Sounds interesting."

"My friend Marcia told me about them."

"And you want to join them?"

"I thought we might want to check it out. It might be nice to be able to
talk to people who understand our situation and don't judge us."

"That would be a switch."

She chuckled, "Exactly. I mean, we are friends with Mulder an Scully and
I think Timmy and his wife want to start going out with us and getting
to know us better, but ."

"They empathize but can't relate."

"Exactly. And that's good. I mean, I don't want our race to be 'the
issue' whenever we are with other people. I don't want to talk about it
all the time. The less attention we give it I think the less attention
everyone else will too."

"You're right. If we don't make a big deal of it, others feel stupid if
they do harp on it."

"Right, but then again, once in a while, it would be nice to talk to
people that can relate and have been where we are."

"And can tell us how they handled it."

"And what worked for them and what didn't."

"Sort of a 'get it off your chest' session once in a while."

"Exactly."

"Sounds all right to me. Call them if you want to. Let's find out when
they meet and at least check it out."

She lifted up and smiled at me. "Really?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"I thought you would . protest."

"Why would I protest?"

"You never want help with anything," she stated matter-of-factly.

I smiled. "I'm trying to change that and reach out a little more."

"Good."

"Good, that's settled then?"

"Yup." She flopped back down and asked, "So how long for you to reload?"

I laughed. "How quickly we forget," I teased.

She kissed my chest and snuggled in. Her hand wandered down to my crotch
and latched onto my flaccid member. She fondled me gently and cupped my
sacks, rolling my testicles between her fingers. I began to harden
again, always amazed at my age, that anyone could excite me like this.
It took a few determined minutes on her part, but when her mouth
descended over me, I groaned and stiffened to fully erect. She sucked on
me for a minute or two but then straddled me and sank down onto me,
wiggling to seat herself firmly.

We made love to each other slow and easy this time, savoring the
feeling, watching me slide in and out of her. She leaned down and we
kissed languidly, our tongues dancing in the air between us. She hummed
and sat up again. I pinched her nipples lightly, loving to watch the
dark brown areola pucker up and her round nubs become hard between my
fingers.

She moaned and leaned forward again, pressing into my hands, begging for
more contact. Then she surprised me by putting her legs together between
mine and straightening her legs out behind her. This squeezed me tightly
and changed the angle of my penetration. 

"Ohhhhh," warbled out of her as I moved my hands to her hips to assist
her. She didn't have a lot of leverage this way so my thrusts were
shorter but I stayed mostly embedded in her. I slid my hands down and
cupped her ass, loving the feel of her warm, soft skin under my callused
hands. I tugged her pelvis to me and let her fall away. She whimpered
and I kept tugging her to me and letting her fall away, our pace
increasing. I lifted my knees slightly so I could thrust into her.

We came together, unexpectedly and shouted each other's names as I
spurted into her in slow motion waves. It was slow but intense and long
lasting and very satisfying. 

She keened and then flopped down onto my chest. We kissed and then
merely laid there, silent, enjoying the intimate contact. I was still
entrenched inside her and kept my knees bent so I wouldn't slide out. 

"I love you," I whispered.

"Hmmm?" she hummed, and shook her head slightly as though trying to stay
awake. 

I chuckled at her. "Sleep," I whispered.

"Love you, Walter."

"Love you too, Clara."

I looked down and was struck by the beauty of her dark skin pressed
against my body. She lifted her head lazily and asked, "What are you
doing?"

She peered down to the side trying to see what I was looking at.

"I'm looking at us."

"And the verdict?"

"I think we look beautiful pressed together like this, black and white."

She looked again. "What are you saying?"

"I like it," I said, shrugging, unsure what I meant, now feeling a
little embarrassed.

"I like it too. I've never told you that but it does excite me."

"What does?" I asked her clarify.

"Seeing my skin against yours, seeing us come together. Black and white.
I don't know." She shook her head. Now she was embarrassed too.

"Don't be embarrassed. I know what you mean. It's the . contrast or
something. Maybe because it's unique, I don't know. But it excites me
too."

"Glad you didn't take that the wrong way."

"Why would I?"

"I don't know," she shrugged.

I kissed her gently. "Stop worrying about how I'm going to react," I
scolded gently.

She smiled softly. "I'm working on it."

I cupped her head and brought it back down to my chest. "You're black
and beautiful, baby."

She chuckled, "You're white and handsome."

"Now that we have that figured out. Let's get some sleep."

She smiled against my chest and hummed. "Deal."

Minutes later I heard a light snore and smiled, squeezing her gently. I
tucked the covers around us and we fell asleep that way. Yes, she was
black and I was white. 

But beyond that, we were just two people, a man and a woman in love. I
hoped that part would never change. I would fight with everything I had
to preserve that one thing. Me and Clara together as a couple. We were
going to be all right. I was sure of it.

THE END.

Donnilee
"The armchair is the neurotics spaceship." B.Earle
"When you talk to God, they call it prayer.  When God talks to you, it's
schizophrenia." Fox Mulder
http://pages.zdnet.com/brunoem/bbrain/id12.html