From: yankeestarbuck@yahoo.com
Date: 13 Sep 2003 17:48:45 -0700
Subject: [atxc-pi] NEW: Compromised - Endings and Beginnings -NC-17-
(0/5) Source: atxc

Title: Compromised - Endings and Beginnings 
Author: Amazon X 
Feedback Email: yankeestarbuck@yahoo.com 
Author's Website: http://yankeestarbuck.tripod.com 
Archive at Gossamer: Yes to Gossamer 
Status: NEW - Series 
Size: 180k 
Category: Drama, Story, Angst 
Pairings: Skinner/Krycek 
Rating: NC-17 
Gossamer Category: Story ~ Romance, Angst ~ Slash 
Summary: Even when you try to do the right thing, shitty things happen
to you.   
Part 1
Please see part 0 (template) for story information.

Title: Compromised - Endings and Beginnings 

Author: Amazon X 

E-mail: yankeestarbuck@yahoo.com 

Website: http://yankeestarbuck.tripod.com 

Feedback: This one is definitely in need of feedback. 

Category: slash, deathfic, hurting, LOTS of pain, emotions, shit like
that 

Rating: NC-17 

Summary: Even when you try to do the right thing, shitty things happen
to you. 

Archive: FHSA, WWOMB, SKINKS, SKSA, WArm Thoughts, FONL, the
Basement, Gossamer, all others ask  first, unless I agreed when I
joined automatic archiving. 

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Files characters, don't claim to, and am
not making any money, so why  bother me?  Everyone else, I own, I made
them up. 

Notes: OK, Mort, you better be nice to me.  This is all your fault. 
All yours,  you, you, you.  You sent me  enough research, so I should
think this is quite comprehensive.  If it sucks, you only have me to
blame.   Thank you Maureen Dailey-Barnett, my bestest coworker for the
kid-beta.  She rocks, huh?  Jumped in  even when her babygirl was
sick, such a good friend, but an even better Momma.  And Erynn, came
to  the rescue, lastest beta in the nick of time.  If there are
fuckups after that, hey, makes the flavor better. 

This is dedicated to the woman who started it all: my crazy Aunt
Ursula.  Happy  birthday, my love, this is  the one year anniversary
of "Compromised" and it only seems fitting to give you this for your
birthday.  I  hope it pleases you as much as it pleased me to write
it.  It hurt, it made me physically ache at times, I  lost sleep, I
wept.  This is probably the most emotional story I've ever written. 
Save it for when you can  handle it.  Happy Birthday, Ursula. 
The artwork that inspired it can be seen here and it's what started 
this whole  thing.  Enjoy!    

*-*-*-* 
MANASSAS, VIRGINIA 
CARMELLO'S RESTAURANT 

I sit across the table from my sister as we have our salads and I'm
still riding the high of my reunion.  My  sister came back to me,
after I had given up all hope.  I sip at my wine while we eat our
salads, waiting  for the appetizers to come.  She drinks from her
glass of sparkling water.  She looks up at me and I must  still be
smiling like a jackal because she smiles back at me, and it's like
looking at my face translated into  a girl's. 

"Alex, are you all right?" she asks.  She tried calling me Valery,
then she tried Sasha, in deference to my  current legal name, but
Valery is alien to me.  Sasha is only for Walter to call me.  I won't
have it from  anyone else.  I can't.  He deserves that respect.  She
understood completely. 

"I'm fine, Katya.  This is all just still so wonderful to me.  I'm
sorry about being gone so long, but we had  no idea..." 

"I know, Alex, I know.  You, Walter and Anabelle have convinced me
that it wasn't intentional.  I should  have called ahead before making
my grand entrance." 

"No, Katya, please."  I reach across the table to touch the hand she
has resting on the clean, white linen  tablecloth.  She pulls back a
bit, but I've come not to take it personally.  When I picked her up at
 Anabelle's house to go to lunch, she didn't hug me.  She's not used
to touching people.  God knows I  know what that's like. 

"I'm sorry, Alex," she says quietly and puts her hand back on the
table.  I don't reach for it.  Like I said,  I'm not taking this as an
insult.  I can't.   She gave her world up for me.  Just because she
needs  acclimation time, I'm not getting bent out of shape.  "I need
to tell you what happened and why things  were as...confused as they
were.  I should have spoken with you at the party.  But all the people
and the  music..." 

"Katya, it's OK.  Relax.  Tell me what you want when you're
comfortable.  We're  here, I'm not leaving,  and we have all day to
talk.  All year.  Forever, even.  When you find the words, you tell
me." 

She shakes her head, splaying her long hair about.  "I'll try my best.
 I was always so scared all my life of  that the people my parents
were running away from would find me.  They put a healthy fear of
strangers  in me.  And here you  come, claiming to be my brother.  I
refused to see you at first.  It was Mother  Superior who allayed my
fears by telling me that she believed that we were related, since we
look so  much alike.  But I had seen you with Walter, and
being Catholic, I couldn't reconcile what you are with  what I
believe.  There is no reconciling it, really.  The two are
diametrically opposed.  Mother Superior  was no help.  Once I admitted
to what I saw, she all but told me I should turn you away.  I knew it 
wasn't right, I wanted to know you.  But...I began to argue with
Mother Superior that it was our job to  counsel those ignorant of the
Lord's word into the ways of God and Jesus.  We argued.  I was
adamant  about meeting you again." 

She stops and waits as the server removes our salads and puts our
appetizers down.  Maria had taught  me well.  I ordered fresh
mozzarella cheese with tomato, drizzled with extra virgin olive oil
and fresh basil  leaves on top.  We eat a few moments, Katya ummm-ing
in delight.  She takes a deep breath and a  long  sip of water before
starting again.  Which is good since I'm sick of cataloging the
kitschy faux-Italian  dcor of the restaurant. 

"After she let me yell for a while, she sent me to pray alone.  I
prayed for four days without speaking to  anyone.  I was served alone
after all the other sisters and was not allowed to sit with them at
mass each  day.  Mother Superior made it easy when Anabelle called the
convent to speak with me.  I hadn't used a  telephone in almost 20
years, either.  Anabelle made arrangements for me to come to Virginia.
 I was  actually here for three days before the party just getting
used to things.  To be honest, I've spoken more  in the time I've been
here in Virginia than I have in my whole life, that I could remember."

I stop her when our entrees arrive.  We're both eating vegetarian
today with manicotti.  She trusts me.   It's nice to be trusted by a
virtual stranger. 

I let the rest of lunch pass with stories about what Walter and I did
in Aruba for our vacation.  She listens  with half an ear.  I can tell
she's trying not to imagine Walter and I there as a couple but as
friends.  I try  to make it as  platonic-sounding as possible, but I
can see her discomfort.  We dispense with coffee and  dessert and I
quickly leave cash on the table to get her out of there.  I know it's
not me, but everything  around her.  She's been in a certain type of
secluded environment for so long, only venturing out to  teach
mathematics to elementary school children.  It's tough.  I'll get
through to her.  I'll wait.  I waited  forty-six years.  I can wait
another day.  Or month.  Or year, if need be. 

She surprises me by giving me a hug when I leave her at Anabelle's
house.  I hold her a little tighter than  I wanted, but I can't help
it.  She hurries into the house and closes the door.  I get back in my
Hummer  and drive home.  The dress slacks and button-down shirt I'm
wearing are really becoming restricting.  I  don't normally wear dress
clothes and it's starting to bother me.  So I hotfoot it up the
mountain and all  but jump from the truck to run into the house. 

I have to get out of these clothes and be comfortable.  Getting them
off will help me shed this feeling of  rejection and depression I
have.  I'm not going to brood, I'm not going to go off on a bender.  I
can't do  that to Walter.  He  put up with a lot of shit from me.  I
can't do that again.  If I get into my jeans and t- shirt, I can be me
again and I can think this out rationally.  Shoes are kicked off,
pants ripped down, shirt  is thrown across the room.  Oh, 
it feels so much better to be out of those things!  I'm gonna take
Bosco  and Honey out for a run I think when I'm dressed again.  When
I'm down to my boxer briefs, I turn to  see Walter standing in the
doorway watching me, a gentle smile on his face. 

"How long have you been standing there?" 

*-*-*-* 

When I hear the Hummer pull in, I walk out of the work shed to greet
Alex.  I don't expect to see him  sprint into the house.  I follow him
in and watch as he removes the dress clothes he wore for lunch with 
his sister.  Granted, he chooses more comfortable clothing to wear
regularly, and I prefer him naked, but  he's always seemed comfortable
in anything he wore.  It's amusing and disconcerting at the same time
to  watch him scramble out of his clothes like a  child throwing off
his Sunday best to go out and play.  He  turns toward me,
odd look on his face, like he's startled, and asks, "How long have you
been standing  there?" 

"Just a minute or two.  I wanted to know how things went.  You OK?" 

I step forward and we meet in an embrace.  His hold on me is very
tight, but not more than I can handle.   I kiss his hair and stroke
his back.  His face is  nuzzling into my neck.  I press a kiss to his
forehead and  he smiles at me.  The minutes tick by as he looks at my
face.  His hands come up to trace my jaw,  my  cheeks.  I let him
follow the path of my brows, closing my eyes as he gently glides his
thumbs over my  lids.  He does this in afterglow usually. 
But he pulls me to him and kisses me deeply.  He takes a step  back
and smirks at me. 

Oh, this is where he's going to initiate sex to ease his way into
talking.  Far  be it from me to stop him. 

I brace myself as he launches his solid frame at me.  I catch him,
arms around my neck, legs about my  waist.  He's clad only in white
cotton, but it's as if they aren't even there.  His heat is
ever-present, more  than any I could radiate.   His mouth comes down
hard on mine, clicking teeth together.  His tongue  presses
insistently into my mouth.  I have the sneaking suspicion that
something's wrong.  He hasn't  done this in a while, but one of his
modes of easing into sharing his feelings is to make love furiously, 
then talk in the afterglow. 

We tumble in a heap on the bed and I struggle to let Alex tear off my
clothing.  He leaves them in a pile  on the floor, another white
t-shirt ruined. How he gets me so easily down his throat is a mystery,
and  one he won't discuss, but it's incredible to feel his complete
acceptance of me.  I don't let him for long.  A  hand on his cheek and
I bring him back to my face.  "Kiss me, Sasha." 

The smile comes back to his eyes and we lay beside each other, kissing
and touching.  I run my hand  down his ribs and he giggles.  He's
become more ticklish since he's let his body thicken with much- needed
fat.  He was too thin for far too long and his body is heavenly now
with his solid chest and little  poochy belly.  I lean down and bury
my nose in his navel, trying to inhale nothing but eau de Alex.  He 
pulls me back up, embarrassed and thinking  himself fat.  "So
beautiful," I whisper before kissing him  again. 

His body arches up into mine.  He wants me inside him and doesn't have
to tell me.  We've danced to  this number many times over the last
year and a half.  I move us to where he can reach the bedside  table
to open the drawer for the lube.  We've taken to putting it away, with
Anabelle bringing Shannon  over so much to see the puppies. 

Quickly prepared, I slide into him.  His eyes are open and focused on
me.  I move slowly in him, enjoying  the closeness of our bodies. 
It's been difficult  lately, with traveling and the family and
Anabelle.  Alex got  sick in Aruba, ate or drank something that didn't
agree with him and while he didn't let it stop him from  lying on the
beach for a few hours at a time, he had the worst case of the trots
I'd ever seen.  It severely  curtailed our lovemaking, obviously. 

It's so nice to be back home with him.  I lay on him, thrusting gently
into his  body.  His hands are  roaming my chest and the look in his
eyes is pure worship.  I should give him something to worship.  I 
rise up on my arms and straighten my back out to thrust down into him
roughly.  The twinkle of desire   becomes a full-fledged gleam of need
and his breath hitches.  Alex loves my muscular body, loves how I 
keep it fit and firm.  His hands move slower, feeling each cord and
ripple on my skin.  I stare in his eyes,  performing for
him, the way I ask him to do for me sometimes. 

Alex hooks his legs around my hips and lays his arms back.  That means
he's moving with my body.  All I  want to do is taste his neck and
throat, but not until I've played my part.  The build-up in my balls
is  maddening.  I want to come so bad, but not before him. 

"Touch yourself, Sasha.  Come for me," I encourage.  He immediately
reaches down and strokes himself  into orgasm, spraying my chest and
his with come.  The feel of his ass squeezing around me is all I need 
to send me over and I exaggerate my movements, thrusting shallowly
into him and jerking my entire  body, playing the part to the hilt for
him.  His eyes are wide open, like saucers, studying my every move. 

My old bones give me away and I collapse on him, not able to hold
myself up in post-coital bliss any  longer.  He laughs under me,
wrapping his arm around me.  His legs hook tightly around my waist
again.   I rise up on my elbows to look down at him.  "You wanna go to
the bath to talk?" 

"Talk?  Oh!  You think I'm beating around the bush.  No, I just wanted
to fuck.  Making up for Aruba."   He smiles and kisses my nose.  "I
guess I'm just a little depressed about Katya.  She still won't let me
 touch her comfortably.  The hug she gave me was so stiff." 

"What was all that with the clothes?" I ask, nodding at the pile on
the floor. 

"Felt stifled.  Like I was being choked.  So I needed to undress. 
Thanks for being there," he says,  smiling. 

I nuzzle in his neck, then stand.  Holding out a hand to help him up,
I appraise his body as it's laid out  before me.  I run my hand down
his chest, noting how he tans so well. 

"What are you looking at, Vlad?" he asks. 

"You don't have any tan lines."  I kiss his shoulder. 

"Neither do you.  Leave it to you to find a gay-friendly nude resort."

"I'm glad you're feeling better.  You worried me for a while." 
Admitting that he was sick was hard for  Alex.  I'm pretty sure he
thought I would go mother hen on him, as I had done early on in our 
relationship.  But he was taking much better care of himself.  All I
did was order plenty of Gatorade and  Ensure to make be certain he
wasn't getting dehydrated or losing nutrients.  Other than that, if he
 wanted to lie on the beach, or on our veranda, I said nothing.  He
surprised me by sticking very close to  the cottage. 

"You were the smart one renting us a place right on the beach, but
with hotel connections.  I was never  far from the bathroom or room
service.  Thanks for taking care of me."  He kisses my cheek.  "Come
on,  let's get dressed again.  I'll let you take me out to dinner." 

I look down guiltily.  He sighs.  "When do they get here?"  The look
on his face is of quiet discontent. 

"Oh, I just got off the phone with her as you pulled in.  That's what
I had come in to tell you.  Shannon  wants to start housebreaking
Taffy herself.  I'm  sorry, I'll call her..." 

"You can't," he interrupts me.  "Her cell was cancelled." 

"What?  I thought she just reconnected it.  How is it that she's
acquired a lot  of business so that she's  running around, but her
cell phone is disconnected?   She's amazing."  I'm at a loss. 

"I don't know if I want to give her the dog, Walter.  She can't even
maintain a  cell phone account.  How's  she gonna raise that dog? 
Maybe I'm too cautious, but I do not want Taffy neglected or abused. 
She  doesn't deserve that."  He's  shaking his head and folding his
arms across his chest. 

"Oh, come on, now.  We trusted Anabelle enough to take care of them
while we were away, didn't we?" I  mention.  And we did.  But when we
got home... 

"Right, we did.  And found that she'd been through every drawer and
closet and thing in our home.  She  had no respect for our property or
privacy.  There's like four hundred dollars in long distance calls on
our  phone and the fridge and pantry were bare.  Some dog sitter.  I
wonder what the electricity bill will be  from all the laundry she
did." 

He's getting way too upset about this, again.  We've had this fight
already.  "It wasn't that bad, Alex..." 

"Oh, I'm Alex now?  Not Sasha anymore?  OK, good, I like that." 

He walks to the wardrobe and yanks fresh clothes out, pulling them on
roughly.   He's got me. I shouldn't  have said that.  Mea culpa, and I
know what she did was wrong.  He just gets so angry, I get worried 
that he'll do something drastic in his anger.  My attempts to calm him
are not working.  I walk away from  him and sit on the bed, waiting
for him to walk out on me again and brood  somewhere. 

I look up and he's standing there, fully dressed, his feet bare.  He
has beautiful feet.  All his toes are  straight and strong.  He
doesn't have any hair on his feet, either, which I love.  I let my
gaze travel up  his strong, straight legs, thick with muscle and bone,
encased in faded, comfy jeans.  His arms are  crossed against his
t-shirt covered chest and his face wears a Scully; one eyebrow up and
lips pursed.   "Talk.  Now."  His demand is quiet.  His voice takes on
a gravelly quality, like when I was crossed against  him. 

I sigh.  How much more vulnerable can I get?  Sitting on my bed naked,
smelling  of a fresh fuck, he  wants me to spill my guts.  "I just
think you're taking this too seriously.  She's pretty much harmless at
 this point.  Annoying, yes,  but I'm tired of all the fighting." 

"I do not fight with her, Walter!" 

"No, you fight with me, all the time.  And I'm sick of it.  Enough. 
Let it go.  She's going to act how she's  going to act, whether we
like it or not.  Just accept it, would you?"  I know I'm not being
very  understanding of his feelings.  I can't help but remember my
mother's upbringing.  She was a true  Southern Belle from Georgia.  My
father settled her in Pennsylvania.  I work hard to hide the little
twang  accent in my voice that slides out every once in 
a while.  She was something like Anabelle is, very familiar  and take
charge over the people she cared for.  But she never, in her life,
said an evil thing about anyone  in all her life.  Not that I
remember.  Not like Anabelle. 

"That makes no difference to me.  I am not gonna get entangled in this
woman's twisted life, Walter.  I  want to be crystal clear about
that."  Hands on his hips, he looks down at me.  "We are not going to 
become her homo buddies so she can live out some twisted TV dream of
being a fabu faghag.  Not  happening,  no way, no how." 

"You're right, Alex..." 

"Fucking Sasha, OK?  You call me Alex one more goddam time and I'm
beating the shit out of you.  Now,  get dressed." 

He strides out of the room in anger and I can barely believe it.  Alex
is jealous. 

*-*-*-* 

Is he insane?  Just accept it?  Christ!  That's how it all fucking
starts!  She  visits, she watches the dogs,  goes through our things,
eats our food, uses our  appliances, runs up our phone bill, then
wants to take it  out in trade.  I've seen it happen before.  And
Walter was straight for a long time.  Shit, even I   sometimes still
think about women.  And I've been gay forever.  I've always
known I was gay.  Jeez, I  used to get one playmate at the lab into
the air duct when the system was off and we used to play  doctor for
hours.  We must have been only eight or nine years old at the time. 
He seemed to like it.  One  of the few clear memories I have of being
raised within the Syndicate structure. 

I make my way to the den to check the puppies.  One is getting ready
to go.  Patty and Shaine are  adopting Butch, the chocolate boy, for
Jason.  Scooter, the golden boy, is still up for grabs.  Truffle is 
also homeless, but I think they'll go pretty fast, I think.  And
Taffy, the little golden girl, she's waiting for  Shannon.  I change
the papers and take food and water bowls to the  kitchen to wash and
refill them.   Walter comes out and stands in the doorway
watching.  His jeans are almost buttoned and his shirt is  open. 

"Sasha, are you jealous of Anabelle?" he asks quietly.  I hear that
undertone of mirth and condescension. 

"Jealous?  You think it's that simple?  Whatever, Walt."  I just turn
back to my work.  Jealous doesn't  begin to cover it. 

Maybe it *is* that simple.  I'm worried about losing my bisexual lover
to a woman.  It's July, but I feel  the cold winds of January blowing
about me, and the feel of snow under my feet.  I refuse to let him 
throw me out.  I will fight until my last breath for the only home
I've ever known in my life.  I will not let  the only person I've ever
truly loved leave me.  Just like that show that she likes, that Brian
guy always  told everyone, "Don't be a pussy.  Have some balls." 
Well, I have balls the size of boulders.  If she wants  a
fight, she's got one. 

Hands circle my waist and pull me back against a wide, strong chest. 
I pull away a bit, but there's no  chance to get away.  He's holding
me too tightly.  It feels very nice to be held again.  Even though we 
were just making love a bit ago, I feel bereft of his love, denied
access to his thoughts and emotions.  For a man who is so insistent I
share each thought with him, he is suspiciously  silent. 

"Sasha, I am not interested in Anabelle romantically.  At all.  Not in
any way,  shape or form.  I feel sorry  for her, sorrier for her
daughter.  Shannon still  calls me Grandpa when Anabelle isn't around.
 The way I  used to father Dana is  the way I treat Anabelle.  But you
are my lover, my fiance, and we are getting   ready to plan our
wedding.  If you think I'm going to ruin all that I have with 
you for a little pussy, you  don't know me very well, after all." 

His speech isn't as comforting as I know he wanted it to be.  He's
already showing the same signs of  apology and covering as he did for
Mulder and Scully  way back when.  Spender had thought he had the 
perfect chess piece in Walter.   The black knight, strong and true. 
He'd lost faith in his country at an early   age, he was ambitious and
he wasn't afraid to die, since he'd already done so once.  What
Spender didn't  count on was Walter's paternal instincts kicking in 
towards his two favorite agents, especially Scully.   That's why they
sent me in.  I know he felt particularly guilty when she was abducted,
even though that  was my fault.  I tried to get her out of there
before they had taken her ova, but I couldn't get to her in  time. 
All I could do in the end was get her to the hospital so that Spender
wouldn't infect her with the  Super Soldier gene.   That was the least
I could do for her.  And Walter knows all of this, after a
sharing  session spent by our creek. 

I turn off the water and start drying the dog bowls.  I can't face
him.  Not for this.  "I have enough with  my sister and getting to
know her.  She's got so much to deal with, readjusting from the
convent.  I think  she's regretting leaving.  I think she should have
tried harder to reason with the Mother Superior.  She's  so
overwhelmed and I can see it.  She probably doesn't think
so, we haven't really known each other that  long." 

"You read people well, Sasha," he says softly.  "You always have.  I'm
sure it was necessary for your  work." 

"Yeah, well, you really should understand people well when you plan on
killing them."  Nice one, Walter,  remind me of my criminal past. 

He turns away and leaves me in the kitchen.  So I start bringing the
dog bowls back to the den and make  sure the papers are clean.  I
can't wait until the puppies are all trained.  Then I can just let
them run  around.  But they've had enough accidents here in the den,
so they stay penned up.  Maybe another few  days. 

I hear him walk into the den.  He stands near the door as I sit with
the puppies and play.  He's just  standing there, not moving.  "What
do you want me  to say, Sasha?  What did I say wrong?  Why are you  so
damn sensitive all of a sudden?" 

"Walt, she isn't part of *us*, you know?  She's getting between us. 
That's not  good.  And you know it." 

I hear him walk toward me, even in bare feet, and he gets into the
puppy pen with me.  Scooter quickly  jumps into his lap, tail wagging
and tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.  Scooter's a sweetie,
but  he's the dummy of the lot.  He gets tumbled around, left behind,
last to nurse, and he's the one always  sleeping furthest from Honey
at night.  Truffle is definitely the alpha  puppy.  She runs the show
around  the litter.  Wouldn't it be a kick if they were adopted
together? 

Walter hugs the puppy to his bare chest and Scooter immediately calms.
 Oh, we may be keeping him.   Damn, Bosco is not going to like that. 
I sigh.  Dog worries are the least of my problems.  The car pulls 
into the driveway and I hear a delighted squeal.  Shannon has found
Honey and Bosco playing in the  front.  Walter puts Scooter down and
quickly stands to button his jeans and shirt, then walks out of the 
den before me.  I grab Taffy and take her out to Shannon.  Walter is
already there, holding a pie plate  and talking to Anabelle.  There's
that smile, the one I wanna whack right off her skull. 

"Hello, Alex!  We've brought desserts!"  She's holding a plate covered
in tin foil.  I'm afraid. 

When I get to her, I lean down to accept her kiss and instead she
takes in a breath.  "My my, aren't you  insatiable?"  I don't know
what to say to her, so I just give her a wiseass smile.  She can smell
fuck on  us, how nice. 

"Well, I baked a peach pie, knowing its Walter's favorite and I just
assumed it  was yours as well.  And of  course, Shannon reminds me of
my terrible manners, that I'd never asked.  She tells me you like 
chocolate, so she baked you some brownies.  I supervised, but all in
all, this is all her own doing.  She  wanted her first solo baking
project to be for `her' Alex." 

She hands me the plate and the smile has none of the venom nor sarcasm
of her past speeches to me.  Shannon has joined us and says, "Would
you try one?  See if you like them?  I followed the rec'pe, but I 
think I messed it up." 

She's six.  She'll be seven in October, like me.  October 8th is her
birthday.   She's a Libra.  Apparently,  that means something to
Anabelle, as well as me being a Scorpio and Walter being a Gemini. 
Anabelle's  an Aries.  I have no clue what all this means, but she
keeps track of it. 

Handing Shannon the puppy squirming in my hands, I take the plate from
Anabelle  and pull one of the  large chocolate squares out.  There are
walnuts carefully dispersed throughout the rich-looking chocolate 
frosting.  My first bite is done with well-hidden trepidation, and
unnecessary as the said confection is as  perfect as a brownie could
get.  My face must look like this when I come, eyes closed, mouth
pressed  tight, swaying on my feet, because I swear I'm eating
the best brownie I've ever had.  "Walt, you have to  try this," I say
while directing the brownie at his mouth. 

He bites and he's got a similar look.  He looks down at Shannon and
says, "Hey,  kiddo, that's great.  You  did real well." 

Her smile is a foot wide, "Thank you Grandpa," she says quietly. 

"Hey!  I like them, too," I whine.  She giggles as we start toward the
house. 

"I knew you'd like them, Alex."  Like a shot, she's up the steps and
into the den where I'm sure she'll  have all the puppies crawling on
her.  Anabelle follows Walter and I into the kitchen where the
desserts  are stashed into the pie pantry we keep on one of the
counters. 

"I wasn't joking, Alex, she really made those herself.  I just ran
the equipment and handled the hot pans.   She measured all the
ingredients and told  me when to start and stop the mixer.  She
scooped the batter  into the pan and told me when to get it out of the
oven.  Oh, she's crushin' on you hard, dear." 

I know I'm blushing but damn it!  I'm not supposed to feel this way in
front of  her.  I don't like her, no  matter how nice and polite she's
acting.  There's a  scream from the den.  We all head there, but hear
the  giggles that accompany the sight of a little girl covered in
puppies.  I have a feeling I'm in for a long  evening. 

*-*-*-* 

I can see Alex getting more and more agitated as Anabelle habitually
visits us.  She's been having more  and more frequent headaches, and
in early August, she decided that Excedrin Migraine wasn't doing  what
the doctor said it should.  She related to me how she tried to get him
to give her a prescription for  something stronger by using her
"Southern Charm".  I could barely help but laugh at her insinuation
that  she wasn't trying to date him. 

"Walter, I swear, a man thinks that when you ask for something
serious, all you  want is to marry him!   Well, I suppose that would
be nice.  He's so handsome, kind, and he's a doctor after all." 

She means Dr. Richard Watson, the head of the town medical pavilion. 
It's an extension of Prince  William hospital, but without the
ridiculous wait in the ER.  There are services there, like scaled
payment  plans, clinic "open hours" and free care for those in need. 
I know Anabelle has been volunteering there  to get close to the
doctor, which is why she hasn't paid her rent, her electric 
bill and her cable bill yet this  month.  She keeps saying she's been
planning parties, and I believe her.  I'm just wondering where all 
her money goes.  And  hopefully, she will not ask me for a loan.  The
minute she does, how do I say no? 

Alex pulls into the driveway with Shannon in the Hummer.  They were at
the zoo all day so that Anabelle  could rest with no distractions. 
Actually, I think he likes Shannon fawning all over him.  He carries
her  around and she hugs his  neck.  People have made comments on his
"beautiful daughter" and he just  smiles.  They do have the same green
eyes.  I've asked him if he didn't really father the girl and not tell
 me, but he just rolled me on my belly and spanked  my ass until I
begged to be fucked. 

Shannon runs in with Taffy on a new bright pink leash and matching
bright pink harness.  Taffy is loping  along behind her, trying to
keep up.  Alex walks in,  bringing up the rear and Honey leaps up to
greet  him.  "We're in the kitchen, Alex," call out to him.  I will
not call him Sasha in front of anyone, and he  knows it.  And he
reserves Vlad for when we're alone as well. 

He walks in and drops a kiss on my head.  Shannon brings up the rear
and picks Taffy up to hold out to  me.  This girl is too cute.  "Alex
bought me a new leash and harness, Grandpa, see?" 

I look up at him and say, "How are you `Alex' but I'm `Grandpa'? 
That's not right."  Anabelle reaches for  her neck again.  Oh, God,
another night of waiting on her.  I can't do this.  "Anabelle, do you
want me to  drive you and Shannon home in your car and have Alex
follow?  It seems like you're not going to have a  good night.  I
wouldn't want you two to get stuck up here too late." 

She looks at me a moment, puzzled, and then stands up quickly and
says, "Walter's right, baby.  We  should go.  We're here entirely too
often as it is.  Let's go." 

Christ!  Now she's insulted.  As many times as Alex gets sensitive,
he'd ask me  what it was all about or  something.  This woman just
takes the insult and runs  with it.  She was sugar and spice a minute
ago  and with a single question, she's like another person.  This is
unreal. 

"What?  No, I wanna stay here, Mama.  Alex is gonna watch Justice
League with me!  Please, can't we  stay?"  Shannon has the leash held
between her steepled hands, like she's praying for her mother to 
acquiesce.  I look up at Alex who just drops his head in defeat.  As
much as he cannot stand Anabelle,  there's something about spending
time with Shannon that fills a need in him, a nurturing aspect of his 
personality that he's only shown to me when I was suffering from my
hernia.  He babied me like no one  has since I was first
married.  He even went a step further ensuring I put no stress on my
intestines  by  giving me regular enemas.  Embarrassing, yes, but to
be honest, it made me feel a hell of a lot better  than straining
against my stitches. 

"No, Shannon.  Get in the car or you can walk home," Anabelle states
with her old attitude back and well  in hand.  She walks out of the
front door with Shannon, Alex and me trailing behind her. 

"Anabelle, I didn't mean you *had* to leave.  I just wanted to make
sure you didn't let your head get so  bad without your medication."  I
don't think she's  listening. 

She's down the driveway and off toward home before I can think of
something to say to her.  Fuck.  Nice  job, Walter. 

*-*-*-* 

What a fucking bitch!  I swear to God, the way she tugs that kid
around, it makes me want to punch her  dead in the face.  No, I really
didn't want to spend my night with the kid, but yeah, I like cartoons
a lot.   Plus, she knows  how to stay quiet until the commercial,
unlike my lover. 

Then again, it's been days since we've made love and I'm hungry for
him.  We got a strange influx of  furniture orders on our website, so
we've both been too tired at the end of the night, even for a dirty 
thought.  But tonight, I want him.  I woke up hard, really hard this
morning.  He was already up when I   looked over to his side of the
bed.   I wilted when I heard him curse at Honey for getting under his
feet  in the kitchen.  I laughed, too.  She doesn't like
him very much. 

I turn and walk back to the house with him following not too far
behind.  I hear the dogs in the den  playing, so I start setting the
alarms and Walter looks at me.  "Sasha, isn't it too early to turn
in?" 

"Vlad, when was the last time we made love?"  I look at him seriously
and he looks out into space to  think about it. 

"I guess...well, it's Thursday, right?  Um..." 

"Exactly.  Can't we snuggle tonight, watch TV, play a little?  We've
been working so hard lately." 

We walk into each other's arms and I can see he understands exactly
what I want.  His mouth descends  on mine and it is just like I
wanted.  The sun hasn't even begun to set and it's just like when we
first got  together, fucking at all times of the day. 

He maneuvers me into our bedroom and we fall back on the bed, kissing
deeply.  His tongue is reaching  so far into me, he must be tasting my
soul.  I kiss back, trying to keep up with him.  My legs are opening 
to him of their own accord, accepting his body to lie across me, heat
radiating from his loins.  I feel his  cock through both his jeans and
mine, and I match him in erection.  With my feet planted firmly on the
 bed, I try to slide against him, rubbing my  crotch on his, trying to
get some friction, but his big hands  grab my hips and 
he stops me. 

"Slow down, lil Sasha, we have all night to be lovers again, not just
have a hot fuck, you know," he  croons in my ear as he kisses the
sensitive flesh just  behind my earlobe.  I used to wear an earring in
my  left ear, and that became so clich so I pulled it out.  He likes
to bite the lobe, anyway, and I like it,  too.   And he does bite me,
gently, and whispers, "Would you be upset with me if I gave you a
two-hour  tongue bath?  Just licked every inch of your skin?" 

Before I can answer, the phone rings.  We look at each other, debating
whether or not to get it.  I opt for  the answering machine and begin
kissing Walter so  he can't get up.  But that whiney voice rings
through  on the tiny speaker, "Walter?  Alex? Are you there?  Please,
if you're there, we need help." 

Anabelle.  Please, God, just take me now, so I won't be responsible
for murdering her. 

"We blew a tire and I just don't have the energy to fix it.  I don't
even think  I can get the car back on the  road..."  And Walter's off
the bed like a shot.   He runs out to the living room and snatches up
the phone. 

"Anabelle?  Are you OK?  Is Shannon hurt?"  His erection is gone, and
so is mine.  He stands there,  zipping his pants and tucking in his
shirt.  "OK, we'll get the Hummer and tow you out.  I'll drive you
back  and Alex will follow.  We'll make sure you get home safe." 

He hangs up the phone and looks at me.  I lie here, waiting for him to
ask me.   Not tell me, but ask me.   I'll be waiting until Jesus comes
back.  He walks into the room and said, "She got a stabbing pain and 
drove off the road, blew a tire." 

Fuck.  "I suppose it's Fag Man and Queer Boy to the rescue, then, is
it?" 

He takes a deep breath, looking at his feet, then back at me.  "Would
you like her and Shannon to sit  there on the side of the road like
that?  We can get there in what...ten minutes, tow out the car and
then  get them home safe.  Don't you even have an ounce of
compassion..." 

"For that bitch?  No, not ounce, not a iota, nothing.  As far as I'm
concerned,  she deserves all these  headaches.  Karma is a bitch,
isn't it, Walter?" 

He rubs his face and head.  My lover is trying to get his head around
something.  Or trying to get my  head around it.  I just don't see
what he sees.  I don't understand what he's feeling.  This may be the 
part of me that was lost when I was raised by the Syndicate system. 
He has the ability to feel  kindness  for her, in a way I don't think
she deserves.  I think he's wasting his emotions. 

"If you don't care for her, and I'm not asking you to, because God
knows I don't like her most of the time  either, but don't you think
Shannon deserves better?  Isn't she worth us giving a shit?  I mean,
what if  something happens to Anabelle?  You want that kid lost in the
Virginia child services system?  You want  her lost the way you were
lost?" 

I shake my head and snort a laugh.  "You would do a Jewish mother
proud with all this guilt, you know?   How fucking dare you throw my
life in my face?  As if I had a fucking choice, you motherfucker!" 

"I'm not throwing it in your face.  I just want you to think about
someone other than yourself for a  change." 

He turns and leaves the room.  Oh, this isn't over, Walter, not by a
long shot.  I follow him into the living  where I find him pulling
some socks on and tying his boots.  "You know, Vlad, I thought that I
was  thinking about you, lately.   Why are you so...quick to jump to
her rescue?  Missin' the pussy?  Wanna get  a  little easy lovin' from
your little Southern Belle?  Have the decency to court her without
your lover  there, huh?" 

Take that. 

I'm shocked as he jumps off the couch and barrels towards me.  I try
backing away, since I do not want  to fight, but he grabs my shoulders
and pins me to the wall.  Our collage of photos goes crashing to the 
floor, glass and pieces of frame flying everywhere.  It makes my heart
jump.  I look up at him, trying to  school my face into a blank
expression but I know my eyes are wider than they should be.  I look
down  at the two hands full of my t-shirt and then back 
up at him. 

One thing I never thought we'd do is degrade back to the violence we'd
once used as the way we related  to each other.  I thought we had
gotten past the pain and hurt.  But here were are, him grabbing my 
shirt because he didn't like what I said.  Fuck this bullshit. 

"Let me go, Skinner." 

*-*-*-* 

It was like he'd hit me back.  Skinner.  He called me Skinner.  I
stepped over a line that we hadn't even  crossed when he was escaping
after Katya first rejected him.  I let him go and take a step back,
relaxing  my face into a look  of pure fear.  This is the test.  This
is where I see what our relationship is made of.   He straightens his
shirt and looks down at the glass on the floor. 

"I'm sorry, Alex.  I didn't mean to grab you like that.  We should get
going if  we're going to get the girls  unstuck before the sun is down
and there's no light." 

He turns from me abruptly and walks out the front door.  I let out a
deep breath, knowing I've made one  of the biggest mistakes of my
life.  I can never  take this back.  This may be a rift between us
that can  never be repaired, no matter what I say.  Alex takes things
so personally.  Well, then again, how else can  he take them? 

I follow him out to the Hummer and we take off to where Anabelle and
Shannon are waiting by the road  down the mountain.  I have to admit,
they look pathetic.  They're both sitting there, disheveled and 
shaking.  Alex is out of  the truck first and Shannon jumps up and
runs to him screaming his name.  He  snatches her up and hugs her
tight.  Anabelle doesn't stand up right away so I walk to her and
crouch  beside her. 

"Hey, Anabelle, how are you?  You gonna be OK?"  I try for the softest
voice I can manage. 

She looks up at me and her eyes are red and moist.  He eye makeup's
run down her cheeks and she's  sniffs back the tears.  Oh, this poor
thing, she looks like a beat up dog.  "I didn't take the Zomig, like
he  told me.  I did a little while ago.  I thought I could make it
home.  I'm sorry about leaving like that.   Please, it's just my
head..." 

"OK, sweetie, just come with me, let me help Alex with the car."  I
help her to  her feet and we walk the  girls to the safety of a huge
tree that's well away from where we're going to work.  I see Alex kiss
 Shannon's forehead as he crouches beside her and tells her to be a
big girl and take care of her mother.  She nods and smiles, wiping
tears from her face. 

We make fast work of Anabelle's Corolla, getting the chains around the
axle and  pulling it back up on the  road.  The turn where she bought
it had a steep downgrade on outside of the turn.  She didn't hit 
anything, but there was no way she could get the car back on the road
by herself.  We work quickly to  change her tire and set the car
right.  Alex settles Shannon in her seat in the  back and I strap
Anabelle  into the passenger seat of her car.  Alex and I meet 
by the back of the car. 

"I'll follow you to the house and we'll get them in," I say quietly. 
He turns abruptly and leaves me  standing there.  I get into the
Toyota and follow Alex's huge truck down the mountain, seeing
Anabelle's  problem.  One of her headlights is out.  I sigh.  This
woman is falling apart slowly but surely.  I look back  in the
rearview mirror at Shannon who is looking out the window. 
Anabelle is a mirror of her daughter.   Both wear the most despondent
expressions I have every seen. 

I tune them out and face forward, driving as carefully as I can.  I do
not want  to have any trouble with  these two in the car.  The last
thing I need is to calm them down.  Yet, without incident, I pull into
 Anabelle's driveway and park her car.  The house she rents is small
and quaint, and I remember the  inside well, after having been invited
to dinner each month for four years of her trying to court me.  I 
shake my head at how angry and hurt she must have felt when she found
out about Alex and me. 

I never gave her any reason to believe she wouldn't one day wear me
down.  Finding me with Alex, while  her own fault for being so
traumatic, was a shock to her.  I can understand her anger.  I can't 
understand her rage and hurtfulness by slandering us all over town. 
That is something that will hurt for  a long time.  Alex will most
likely never forgive her.  And I don't blame him. 

Alex is already helping Shannon out of the back and carrying her into
the house.  I go around to Anabelle  and help her to the door, and
into her bedroom  to lie down.  My arm is around her slight shoulders
and  she's leaning heavily on me.  I walk her straight to her bedroom,
ignoring the mess of her living room.  I  do take notice of the
conspicuous space where her large television used to sit. 

Looking up at me Anabelle smiles.  "Thank you very much for coming to
get us.  You and Alex are just  angels, my guardian angels.  I can't
imagine what I would do without you both." 

As touched as I am by her words, I have to be honest with her. 
"Anabelle, I don't think you should  depend on us so much.  I know
you've not been well, but  I've battled migraines in my time as well. 
It's  not all that bad if you follow the doctor's advice.  Take the
medicine he tells you to take and when.    Sometimes people
under-medicate themselves in fear that they're going to
overmedicate.  Just do what  he tells you and you should see a nice
reduction in your symptoms." 

She nods and says, "I'll do it, Walter.  Thank you for the help.  You
can just lock the handle of the door,  I'll get up in a little while
and lock everything  tight." 

(Continued in part 2)

Part 2
See part 0 for story information.


She closes her eyes and I leave her there.  Normally, Anabelle's mauve
and cream-colored bedroom is  immaculate.  I notice the pile of
laundry needing to be done in the corner, the way the bed was unmade 
when I came, with a dark stain or two in the middle.  There are bits
of garbage over-flowing from the  basket in the corner, like cotton
balls and tissues.  This is definitely not like her a bit. 

I walk to the kitchen as I wait for Alex to help Shannon into her
pajamas, wash  her face, brush her teeth  and settle her into bed. 
He'd done it so many times  before, when we'd agreed to baby sit while
Anabelle  worked an extra shift, so I knew he'd be done shortly.  I
wander into the kitchen, and wish I hadn't.   Dishes were piled up,
garbage overflowed from the bin and pots and pans sat on
the stove, as if the last  meal they'd had was unfinished. 

I turn off the light and find Alex waiting for me in the living room.
He turns without a word and leaves  the house.  I follow him out,
setting the button lock on the door handle.  He's already in the truck
when I  get there and I climb in and settle beside him.  He takes off
for home without a word. 

The ride is excruciating for the first half hour of silence.  I can't
say anything, though, since I have no  clue what he wants to hear.  I
wait for him to speak.  Thankfully, I don't have to wait much longer.

"She let the house go," he says quietly.  I grunt quietly in
agreement.  "I'm surprised you didn't stay to  wash the dishes and
laundry," he accused quietly. 

"I knew you wanted to get home, and I don't have transportation back
to the house." 

"Oh, knowing Anabelle, you'd have a place there, wouldn't you?" 

I let out a laugh.  "Not on her blood-stained sheets, I don't."  He
makes a face. 

He risks a glance at me.  "Tell me you don't like the attention." 

I shake my head.  "Can't do that.  I do like it.  I like being needed,
being depended upon.  You're...less  needy.  You've gotten used to
life after the war, outside of the Syndicate and its regimented life,
the way  you grew up and  lived.  You don't need me that way anymore. 
Anabelle does.  Shannon does.  Is that  what's bothering you?  That
I'm helping them?" 

He laughs at me, shaking his head.  "Talk to me, Sasha." 

"Oh, *now* it's Sasha, is it?  Christ, Walter, make up your fucking
mind!" 

"At least I'm Walter again," I say quietly.  He drives a little longer
before laughing bitterly again. 

"You know something, Walter, it's not that you need to be needed.  I
know that.  I always knew that.  I  love that about you, considering
how fucked up I am and  need you to keep me normal.  I need you, a 
lot, even still.  I don't need you any less because my life is
settling into the place I want it to be.  So,  forget that bullshit
that I don't need you anymore.  Even if I don't need you
to put my life back together,  I want you, Vlad.  I want you every day
and every night.  What I don't want is that woman in our lives." 

And there it is, plain and simple.  He doesn't like Anabelle.  Still.

"Is it the woman, or that it *is* a woman?" I ask, throwing caution to
the wind.  If he's talking, I want to  keep him talking. 

"Vlad, the fact that you're helping a woman doesn't bother me a bit. 
I like Shannon, and you know that.   She's a smart kid.  Anabelle
doesn't give her enough credit, the kid is sharp.  But after what she
did to  me, to *us*, after  all the things she told people.  I mean,
Mike Elliot told me she was going around  saying I touched her
daughter.  Not like a hug, or to wipe her nose in the winter, but that
I touched the  kid.  Like...FUCK!" 

Alex screeches to a halt and pulls the truck over.  I barely get my
arms up before my chest slams into the  dashboard, even with the
seatbelt on.  He gets out of the truck and stomps out onto the road,
shouting  "FUCK!" 

I get out as well, to stop him from losing his mind.  I grab his
shoulders and turn him towards me.   "Sasha, why didn't you tell me
this?  Why didn't you say  anything to me?  I didn't know you were
this  upset, moya lyubov.  What she said, it was wrong.  And everyone
knows that.  No one ever came by to  ask any questions, right?" 

My head spins.  Alex is not a child molester.  He *was* molested.  He
wouldn't perpetuate the cycle of  abuse.  I know my lover.  And,
thankfully, so does the  law enforcement of this town. 

"Artie stopped me getting coffee one day and told me what she said. 
But he remembers the freak I  pointed out to him that time, and
figured Anabelle was just mouthing off.  You know what he said to me? 
 He said, 'The way I hear tell, you like getting the plowing, not
doing the plowing.  And I sure don't think  it'd be a little girl.  A
little boy maybe...'" 

"He said what!" I shouted.  Alex turned to me, tears running down his
face, and  gave me a sad smile. 

"Vlad, I almost took his head off.  He knew it wasn't true.  But he
just wanted  to say it to get me mad.  If  I didn't get mad, that
would mean I had something  to hide and didn't want to 'look' guilty
by getting  pissed.  Artie isn't stupid.  He isn't new to this.  He
got it.  Just the implication, though..." 

I held him tightly as he shuddered and fought to compose himself.  I
finally got it.  I truly understood  how he felt.  And he was right. 
Throughout our exile from our home, she never really said anything bad
 about me, except that I had been "charmed by the devil with green
eyes" as I'd heard it put.  She  blamed everything on Alex.  He had
every right to be angry about things. 

"Come on, lover, I'll take you home and remind you that no one comes
between us.  Not Anabelle, not  anyone."  I led him to the passenger
side and strapped him in as I had done many a time.  We were not  far
from home at all. 

We drove the ten minutes until I turned into the driveway in silence. 
Barking noises welcomed us, only 4  dogs left.  Butch is living with
Jason and the foursome down in town.  Mike Elliot took pity on Scooter
and  told me that the pup sleeps curled in his left armpit.  I suppose
the dog wants to be close to his  heartbeat, and Mike thinks it's a
sweet trait.  Truffle doesn't miss her siblings a bit since Bosco lets
her  tear him up, biting his ears and tail.  Honey wants nothing to do
with them, doesn't play at all.  She sits  on the porch until some
unsuspecting small animal ventures too close to the house and
she's off after  them. 

We haven't given Taffy to Anabelle yet, at her insistence, since she
doesn't feel up to caring for a pup  until her headaches are under
control.  I know Alex agrees with her assessment.  I help him into the
 house and we just make it into the bedroom before his mouth covers
mine in a deep, searing kiss.  The   tingle in my stomach starts
spreading over my body, through my loins, into my face.  My hands seek
out  his chest, his belly, cupping his ass.  Oh, softness
and thick muscle, my lover's body is the temple where  I worship and
give thanks for my life.  Problems and people aside, I am thankful
each day to be loved by  a man who held my life in his hands so long
ago and spared me for the  moments where he could be like  this,
pleasing me and praising me by taking my face between his hands and
saying, "If I lose you, that  will be the last day of my life.  I
cannot live without you.  I will not live without you." 

*-*-*-* 

As I say the words, I know they are the truth.  He is all I've ever
wanted and all I will ever need.  I turn  away the thoughts of the
past where we hurt each  other and were enemies.  Calling him Skinner
was  bringing back the past in a way I cannot justify, nor apologize
for.  With the hurt I felt, I know he and I  have gotten to a place
where nothing will be the same for us. 

We move to the bed, breaking apart to sit and just look at each other.
 "Sasha,  my dearest heart, I can't  imagine life without you."  My
hand is on his cheek and I smile at him. 

Our lovemaking this night is tender and careful, not the hurried fuck
we had started out before leaving  the house.  We're touching a lot. 
Smiles and giggles punctuate each kiss.  Yes, Alex Krycek and Walter 
Skinner giggle when we make love.  We make kissie noises, and we
tickle and we rub noses.  I'm making  myself sick. 

We do end up taking our time, preparing each other for the
festivities.  He takes me swiftly, holding one  leg up over his arm. 
He kisses me continually as he thrusts into me, and slaps my hand away
when I try  and jerk myself off.   His fucking is very good, thrusting
on my prostate and making my brain scream.   His  thrusting gets
erratic, shallow and I know he's going to come.  And the
bastard grabs my nuts and pulls  as he comes in me, screaming and
yelling like a bitch.  Well, great, Walter, thanks a lot, you selfish
prick. 

He collapses on me and breathes in my ear.  I try to move him, to no
avail.  After a few minutes, he sits  up and said, "Ready to give it
to me?" 

"Huh?" I say.  He wants me now?  This is new, taking turns in the same
night.  I love to bottom, love  having Walter come in me.  But when he
lets me top him,  trusting me like that, it's heaven to me.  He  gets
up to his hands and knees and I understand why he let me finger him
with lube.  I slide right into  him, my balls against his.  This is
truly heaven, this moment, being here with him, making love to him, 
him making love to me. 

I'm not long inside him before letting loose my load, happily watching
it drip down his thighs as I stroke  his skin.  We ease down together,
not bothering to  clean up this night.  I want to lay in our sweat and
 cum.  I've slept in worse  puddles. 

We wake frequently in the night to touch and kiss and taste.  Lying on
my back,  he reduces me to  singing soprano at one point with his
tongue and one finger.   I reciprocated, getting tenor, since Walter 
can't sing that high.  I end up sprawled across his wide chest,
rubbing my stubbly chin in the hair.  "This  was a nice night," I say
quietly. 

"No thanks to me," he answers. 

"Don't, Vlad.  Look, we talked, and we'll talk more.  We'll get
through it."  I  crawl up to rub my nose on  his (I told you we did
that).  "Just...I love you, OK?  Fucker." 

He chuckles at me and moves the blanket to let me crawl in beside him.
 I curl around him and we drift  off. 

*-*-*-* 

Mama's asleep.  Man, she cried and cursed and yelled for a long time,
I didn't think she was ever gonna  stop.  She screamed to call
Grandma.  I'm always calling Grandma for her, asking for money. And 
Grandma makes me promise not to  let Mama spend it on silly things.
Like I can stop her!  But she doesn't  really spend it on stupid
stuff.  She pays the bills.  She sold the big TV to pay the electric
bill.  We have  the little one in my room, but...it don't have 
no cable.  Regular TV sucks. 

I dial the number and it rings.  The answering machine picks up.  I
hate that stupid thing.  "Hi, Grandma,  it's me, Shannon.  Please pick
up the phone." 

She does and says to me, "What does she want this time, dear?  I was
just on my  way to bed, it's very  late." 

I look at the clock and it says 8:13.  I just learned how to tell time
on a face clock, but I like this clock  with the light-up numbers
more.  "Grandma, Mama wanted me to call and..." Man I wish Momma would
 do this herself. 

"Ask me for money, I know, Button, I know.  What's she bought now?"  I
don't like it when Grandma  sounds like that. All huffy and stuff! 
Mama didn't buy anything, really.  She used to buy silly things, like 
really nice clothes.  But since her headaches, she doesn't work so
much any more.  I can't tell Grandma  that.  She gets mad at Mama,
tells Mama that the pain is all in her head.  No duh, Grandma.  But I
don't  think that's what she means. 

"You tell your mother I'll deposit something into her account.  And
you make sure you tell me what she  uses it for, won't you, Button? 
For Grandma?" 

I hate this.  I don't wanna tattle on Mama, about not working, but I
don't wanna lie to Grandma.  I'll ask  Alex what I should do.  He'll
know.  "OK, Grandma, sure.  Thanks.  I'll tell Mama." 

"Goodnight, Button."  I hate that name 'Button' and I will never call
anyone that, ever and no one else  better call me that. Button.  Dumb
old name.  Alex calls me 'Petal'.  Only when no one else around, 
though.   I don't think he wants people to know how nice he is to me. 
When he's with Grandpa, he's  stiff, like a board.  Doesn't hug or
nothing.  But when he thinks no one is watching, he kisses Grandpa's 
head, or his neck.  I like him like that.  His eyes wrinkle up when he
smiles.  When he doesn't smile, he  looks kinda mean.  But I know he's
a big ole puppy dog.  And Grandpa, as much as he likes to yell, 
he's a  teddy bear.  Hugs like one. 

When I put the phone back, Mama calls me into her room.  "Baby, what
did Grandma say?" 

I take a deep breath.  Here we go again!  "She said she'd put the
money in the bank, but she wants me  to tell her what you do with it. 
I don't wanna.  Do I have to?" 

"No, you don't, Baby, it's up to you.  Would you lock the door before
you go to  bed?  Momma can't seem  to make it out of bed.  Thank you,
Baby". 

I nod.  I know she can't see me in the dark, but she can hear me walk
to the door, move the chair so I  can reach the locks and then move it
back.  All the lights out and everything locked up tight, I get in bed
 and turn the light down.  Can't turn it out, then I can't see what's
comin' at me.  I got Grandpa's bunny  in my hand and the hankie I took
from Alex under my pillow.  I'm safe.  For tonight, anyway. 

*-*-*-* 

Shannon is begging me to take her to the Halloween Party at the Empty
Closet.  Jason had mentioned  that he's going with all four of his
parents and now she wants us to take her.  Anabelle has already told 
me I was welcomed to do it.  Patty is throwing this afternoon thing
for gay families.    Shannon wants to  be Cinderella.  So I'm going to
be her Fairy Godfather.  Actually, I want to be  her Fairy Godmother
and  go in drag, but I think Walter will throw a hissy fit
if I do.  It's almost worth it to see him in a snit about  it. 

Walter and I sit on the porch as we watch the sun setting.  The leaves
are starting to turn colors and it's  getting cooler in the evenings. 
We sip coffee, watching the blue go gold, orange, red and eventually 
purple and black.  Stars twinkle down on us, and I smile up, knowing
one is Samantha.  That was the  hardest thing to tell Mulder.  That I
knew his sister had died.  I was there.  She was a couple years 
younger than me.  But I helped calm her and soothe her when she was
first brought to the dorms.  She  was the little girl I would sing to.

I would hold her while she cried for her mother, for her brother Fox,
and she wouldn't stop until I'd sung  "I Will" by the Beatles at least
three times.  I'd listen to the guards' radio sometimes, hide in the
vent  duct to the office  and listen to the music.  One guy, late at
night, had a Beatles thing.  He'd play his  records on the small
record player they'd hide.  He played everything, Rubber Soul,
Revolver, Sgt.  Pepper, Magical Mystery Tour. 

"Sasha?  You lost in your head?" he asks quietly. 

"Thinking about the lab.  Samantha." 

"You never told me about that place, you know.  Did you ever tell
Mulder about her?" 

I reach out and take his hand, squeezing to reassure him I was OK
talking to him.  "I told him everything  I remembered.  From the
moment I first saw her, until they took her unconscious body from my
arms for  more testing.  They tore  her to shreds.  I barely
recognized her when they were done.  Her little body  couldn't handle
the hybridization process." 

I stop there.  I let go of his hand to wipe the tears off my cheeks. 
He stands  to walk behind my chair,  rub my shoulders and press kisses
to my temples and cheeks.  "Oh, Sasha, what you've been put  through. 
If I could take it all away, have given you a good life." 

"No one could have done that.  My parents were simpletons, farm people
enticed by the glamour of the  Project.  I'm OK with it, now.  You'd
be surprised how well time and good sex work to dim the pain of a 
hateful childhood." 

He helps me rise and we go in to watch the news before bed.  It's too
cool to sit out late anymore.   Maybe we're just getting older.  By
the time we're settled on the couch, dogs on the floor, but sleeping 
puppies in our laps, I'm  beginning to yawn.  We see the fluff report
about the popular costumes, one of   them being the Men In Black suit
and shades.  If they only knew the real deal. 

"Sasha, are you taking Shannon to the Closet family bash?" he asks. 

I nuzzle his neck a bit before answering.  "Yeah, I am.  The costume
is hiding at her house." 

"Hiding?"  He turns to me and looks down.  "Why would you hide your
costume from me?" 

I smile.  "She's Cinderella and I'm her Fairy Godmother.  I have a
blonde wig, complete with long banana  curls, a pink fluffy dress with
wings, and a padded bra to go underneath, pink tights and ballet
slippers.   Anabelle is going to apply my makeup before I go."  I
shake my head.  "Please don't be mad, I know how  you hate the gay
jokes.  But I couldn't pass up the opportunity to be a fairy." 

He smiles down at me.  He has a few new wrinkles beside his eyes.  "I
want pictures."  He kisses me and  all is well that evening. 

*-*-*-* 

The day of the family party is the Saturday before Halloween.  This
year it's fallen on a Tuesday, so Patty  scheduled the party for the
weekend before.  I heard she'd spent the entire morning decorating,
from the  call from Mikey and Gerry, making sure Alex would show up. 
I didn't tell anyone I would be by the party  later. 

Shannon had shown me her costume earlier in the month, and I was just
floored by how adorable she  looked.  The dress looked professionally
made for her, not  just something grabbed from the Walmart.   Anabelle
had pulled out Alex's costume, and I couldn't stop laughing.  That
little girl talked him into  wearing a dress.  I just shake my head
when I think of it. 

I had a brilliant idea and went searching on the web until I found
what I needed.  A call to Anabelle also  helped my plans.  I ordered
my costume in secret, had Mike Elliot hold it for me until I could
pick it up  personally, when Alex was off on a rewire job out of town.

That Saturday, I watched Alex drive down the mountain and I waved to
him.  Then  I ran to shower,  shave extra close and get myself into
costume and ready.  If I was correct, when the party started at  two,
Anabelle would have Alex and Shannon be a little late, and "lose" one
of her glass slippers.  They  weren't real glass, but Plexiglas so she
could walk and not chip them.  At two thirty, I promptly show up  at
Anabelle's, grab the other slipper and drive off for the 
party. 

She looks like hell, but I can see that she has her hair wrapped up. 
She must be cleaning.  I take my  time driving over to the club.  At
three, I wait outside, looking in one of the windows to see Alex and 
Shannon.  She is in his  arms, shoeless foot thrust out for everyone
to see.  I have to bite my lips to keep  from laughing.  Those two are
going to piss themselves when I walk in. 

I can't stand it anymore.  I go to the door and magnificently sweep
into the room.  All conversations  stop, as well as the dancing and
eyes are glued to me.  Once upon a time, this would have embarrassed 
me to the point of me blushing so red, I'd look like the three-ball
with ears.  But dressed in my costume  of Prince Charming, with the
embroidered tunic, tights and long cape behind me, I feel right at
home. 

"I hope you all can help me," I say loudly, and watch as Patty turns
down the jukebox from behind the  bar.  She's dressed as Strawberry
Shortcake.  Shaine is dressed as Blueberry Pie.  Please don't ask how
I  know these things.  Then again, having a seven-year-old around the
house has been educational to me.   And the lesson?  I'm eternally
grateful Sharon did not get pregnant. 

Shannon's eyes widen when she sees me pull the missing slipper from
my waistband and hold it up.  "My  future princess will fit this shoe.
 Can anyone  help me find her?" 

"I'm here!" she screeches and Alex grimaces.  His poor ears.  I sweep
over and slip the shoe onto her  foot.  She squeals again in delight
as I take her into my arms and say, "My sweet, will you marry me?" 

She hugs me around the neck and kisses my cheek.  "Yes!!"  I squeeze
her tight.  She is so happy to see  me.  In my ear, a hot, wet little
mouth whispers, "Thank you, Grandpa.  I love you." 

I kiss her little cheek and say, "I love you, too, Shannon." 

Alex dramatically waves his silver, star-tipped wand and announces,
"My work here is done!"  He's  treated to laughs and applause.  He
rises up and tip-toes  to the bar where he gratefully accepts a beer.

For the rest of the afternoon, I am pulled around by my middle finger,
all that  she can get hold of, and  shows me off as her Prince.  I
meet all the other kids that I didn't even know my friends had, and
help  Shannon win Pin the Tail  on the Donkey.  She's blindfolded and
has the tail, but I hold her up and direct  her where to stick it. 
She takes direction well. 

After the party breaks up at six, I suggest we all go out for dinner. 
All that  was served at the party was  snack foods and LOTS of fruit
salad and crudite for the kids.  We decide that real food is
necessary.  I opt  to drive in the Range Rover, leaving Alex to sit in
the back with Shannon.  She doesn't mind being  strapped in as long as
Alex is with her. 

We get a few sidelong stares at the Go Go Diner, but they're all for
Alex.  He doesn't even acknowledge  them, helping Shannon to sit in
the booth and then getting in next to her.  I sit opposite them.  A
60s  waitress, wearing a paisley psychedelic tank top, mini skirt and
white boots, hair in a high flip, doe eyes  and white lipstick, walks
over and hands us menus.  Hey, I grew up in  the 60s.  I was straight
back then.   I knew the styles. 

I look through mine, but Alex pushes his away.  "The lady will have a
hotdog, fries and a vanilla shake,  her size.  I'll have the same, my
size, chocolate shake.  Dear?" 

He looks over at me, and I'm in a daze.  "Uh, yeah, what they're
having is fine.  I'll have a Coke to drink,  though." 

She smiles, takes the menus and looks at us a minute before she
leaves.  She smiles at Shannon and  says, "I hope your Fairy Godmother
likes your prince so you can live happily ever after, sweetie." 

Shannon giggles and covers her mouth.  Dinner progresses quietly,
until Alex looks up at the door, eyes  wide, mouth full of food, but
not chewing.  I turn to see what's gotten him to freeze the way he is
and  it's his sister, Katya, coming in with another woman, presumably
to eat.  I can actually hear Alex swallow  his mouthful.  She walks to
our table and looks at her brother, a huge  smile on her face.  "Alex,
my, how  you've changed!" 

I can't help but giggle.  He still seems beyond speech so I take up
the mantle of manners.  After all, I  *am* Prince Charming.  I stand
and say, "I'm sorry, I seem to have left my manners home." 

Katya interrupts me, "Well, the tights you have on don't seem to have
pockets." 

This is a new woman.  I don't know where she came from, but this is
not the woman who came to our  house for Labor Day weekend for
barbeque.  She looks at Shannon and says, "Cinderella, you are a lucky
 girl.  Your prince and your fairy God...mother?" 

The blush creeps up Alex's face as he stands and hugs his sister. 
"Walter, Alex, this is my friend and  coworker, Maureen Sanford.  She
teaches French and  Spanish at Trinity Church School with me.  This is
 my brother Alex Krycek and his fiance, Walter Skinner." 

Maureen nods politely and says hello.  Shit, Alex isn't doing well,
he's white as a sheet.  "And that young  princess is Shannon
Mitchell." 

"The Mitchell woman's daughter?" Maureen asks.  Shannon looks up at
her and I can see the questions in  her eyes, as she kneels on the
booth seat next to where Alex stands. 

"Yes," I say, quickly.  "Anabelle Mitchell is Shannon's mom.  She's
home today,  and we decided it would  be nice to take Shannon home fed
and pooped from a great day out and about." 

Shannon smiles and buried her face under Alex's arm.  Katya laughs and
shakes her head.  "So, Maureen,  what do you think of my brother, the
fairy?" 

We all break into laughter at that.  The ladies decide to join us for
dinner and I stand to allow Maureen to  slide in near the window. 
Katya slides in and  Shannon is sandwiched between them.  Katya is
especially  attentive to the little girl, as a good teacher would be. 
Alex stops worrying about how he's dressed and  begins to enjoy joking
with his sister and Shannon. 

I quietly inform the waitress that I would be paying for our guests. 
It's the least I can do, especially  when Shannon announces, with the
perfect manners and grace of a lady, that she needs to visit the 
powder room.  Anabelle raised  this girl well.  Katya offers to go
with her, just to "make sure she can  reach  the soap to wash her
hands" and we're all thankful. 

One forgets that even though Shannon is an intelligent and
sophisticated little  girl, she's still a little girl.   She needs to
be supervised in the bathroom.   How would Alex and I have handled
that had we not had  the ladies there?  Something I'm glad we'll never
have to deal with. 

Maureen clears her throat and puts her napkin down.  "I want to say
I'm very sorry for making that  comment about Mrs. Mitchell earlier." 
Maureen reminds me of my mother, except her dark coffee  complexion is
far removed from Mother's pale peaches and cream skin.  "I didn't mean
to cast aspersions  about  her, but she is known to our parish and we
pray for her." 

"You pray for the faggots too?" Alex asks sarcastically and I can see
Maureen physically wince. 

"No, Mr. Krycek, we pray for the closed-minded people who persecute
you.  We are all God's children, no  matter who we love or make love
to.  He does not judge us for our actions, be they moral and just.  
When we sin against Him, then we must be dealt with by Him, and Him
alone.  It is not Man's place to  take up the mantle of interpreter of
His word.  The bible is clear enough, but it does not follow logic
that  we must love our neighbors as we wish to be loved, unless he's
gay." 

Alex blushes and looks down at his empty plate.  "I'm sorry.  I get
very defensive." 

"It's alright.  I can understand.  I met Kate in a bookstore.  She was
trying to find information about your  lives.  And I brought her to
church with me, and things have been better for her.  I know you must
feel  like..." 

"You don't know how I feel," he states stiffly. 

"Alex, let her finish," I say quietly.  I can see the hurt in his
eyes.  We never discuss his sister.  This  dinner has been
illuminating for us both.  She  seems much more open and worldly with
us.  She is  getting used to life outside  her convent. 

"I'm sorry," he says. 

"Quite alright.  Mr. Krycek..." 

"Please, call me Alex." 

"Of course, Alex.  Please understand, Kate is still very religious,
very close to God and his works.  She  needed to understand that He
loves her, and He loves you and Walter as well.  That's the scripture
we  teach.  And it has brought her much comfort." 

"Thank you, Maureen.  I'm glad she has a friend like you to help her. 
I think I kept my distance from her  too long."  Alex gives her the
sad smile of regret.  I've seen it quite a bit in my time with him. 

Maureen just nods.  Alex stands when his sister and Shannon return,
then excuses himself to the  bathroom as well. 

*-*-*-* 

If I didn't get away when I did, I'd probably have started crying. 
I'm so happy my sister is adjusting.   She's opening up and she's
becoming...normal.  Well, how the hell else can I describe it?  And of
course,  whom do I encounter  on my way to the men's room, but Sister
Cleophus Shivers.  She is the matriarch  of  Hopewell Baptist Church. 
And the busiest of the busy-bodies.  I shouldn't be mean to her, since
I hope  to God I'm as active as she as when I get to be
her age.  Bless her, she's eighty-seven years old.  And  damn it if
she doesn't  look like she's less than sixty.  She looks up at me as
she's coming from the ladies'  room, cane proceeding her, clearing the
way. 

Two dark eyes look me over from behind thick glasses and she smiles. 
"Why, Alex, how you've  changed," she drawls.  I shouldn't roll my
eyes, but I can't help it.  Then she goes on to say, "How you  two
indulge that Mitchell girl.  I  swear, the woman don't even have the
decency to show her face in  church no more to thank God for you two
boys." 

This is the only woman I will allow to call me a boy.  She's earned
it.  She holds out her hand to shake  mine, but instead I take hers,
kissing the light brown, wrinkled skin.  "Ma'am, from you, that's one
of the  highest compliments  I've ever gotten.  Thank you." 

She smiles.  "God bless you, boy, and your man.  Have a nice day." 

She slides herself away to where her granddaughter is waiting to take
her home.  I walk into the men's  room and think about how hard this
is going to be, pissing in this dress.  What the fuck was I thinking? 
 So I go in a stall to get myself together.  As I'm washing my hands
to leave, some asshole walks in,   someone I don't know.  He looks at
me, gives me a strange look, then asks, "Halloween party?" 

"Indulging the kid," I say back.  Whew, not what I was thinking. 

"My little girl got me to dress as Blue while she was Magenta.  My
wife was Steve.  It wasn't...fun." 

"I hear ya," I say as I walk out.  This is one of the strangest days
of my life. 

Back at the table, everyone is standing to leave, Shannon chattering
happily about ice cream.  I look at  Walter.  He shrugs.  "She talked
me into it."  I hug my sister, shake Maureen's hand and watch as they 
drive away. 

I sigh as I look at Walter's Range Rover.  Then again, I don't have my
Hummer, so I'm dependent on him  for a ride back to the Closet to get
it.  We drive to the Baskin-Robbins and we all indulge.  I get Double 
Chocolate Overload, Walter gets his Peaches and Cream, and Shannon has
two big scoops of Bubble  Gum Princess.  She smiles with her mouth
covered in ice cream, trying to chew the gum hidden in each  scoop of
the hot pink frozen confection. 

"Mama won't let me get messy like this, Alex.  I like it sometimes." 

"I know what you look like under the ice cream, Petal."  She smiled
widely at me. 

We sit on a bench, Shannon between Walter and I.  She puts her spoon
into her ice cream and looks up  at me.  "Mama's sick, isn't she?  I
mean, real sick." 

I'm taken aback.  She and I have talked about a lot of things, mostly
school stuff or her friends, even a  boy she liked.  We'd never spoken
of her mother's  headaches.  And for her to bring it up like this is
very  odd.  She was raised by a Southern Belle and she knows how to
make "polite lady-like conversation" as  she told me.  This is deep
and it's serious.  I almost want to say it's too  serious for a
seven-year-old.  I  have the feeling she's much smarter than I
give her credit for. 

"Why do you say that?  What's she been like?"  I'm going to try and
draw her out.  Maybe she needs to  unload. 

"She sold the big TV and the stereo.  The house is too messy for me to
clean cuz she can't always get  out of bed.  She forgets to take me to
school.  And she lied when she said she was working.  She ain't.  
Sorry that I gotta lie to  you." 

Shannon hangs her head and takes a deep breath.  I hug her and say,
"It's OK.  I don't mind.  I know  you want to protect her." 

She looks up at me and has tears on her cheeks.  I wipe them away with
my napkin.  "You say what you  need to when she's there, and you tell
me and Walter anything you want in private.  And it'll stay with  us. 
Don't worry about that, Petal." 

I kiss the top of her head.  She nods and goes back to her ice cream
and the latest boy band that she  and her friends are crazy over.  And
I listen, since one of the kids is exceptionally cute, and used to
hang  at the Closet back a year ago before he went out for the
tryouts.  I won't tell her that, she needs her  illusions. 

We take her back home, fast asleep, and Anabelle is very tired
looking.  I take  Shannon to her room and  notice things are a lot
cleaner.  She's done laundry because I can smell Downy.  We don't stay
long, just  putting Shannon to bed, still in her costume, and we
decline an offer of coffee. 

"Thank you, Anabelle," Walter says, "but after a day of chasing after
Shannon, a man my age needs  sleep more than anything." 

I just smile and we leave her at the door.  In the truck, I ask, "Are
you really tired, Vlad?  Or can we go  get the Hummer?" 

He smiles at me and says, "Leave it until tomorrow.  That dress is
driving me insane.  When we get  home, get in the bedroom, make a hole
in them tights and bend over the footboard for me.  Lubed." 

As he's speeding up the mountain, I reach into his lap and find him
half hard, which is good for him.  We  only make love once or twice a
week now.  Walter just can't keep up sometimes.  It's fine with me,
since  he still holds me at night.  This night, we'll make love like
we were kids, as if we have known each  other  since back then. 

Pulling in, I unbuckle and make tracks into the house.  The dogs and
puppies try to welcome me back,  but I shoo them all off.  Everything
is the way we left it, except Walter's clothes are draped over the 
plush chair in the corner.  He must have hurried to dress for the
party.  That kid loved it.  And yeah, so  did I.  I thought it was a
really sweet thing for him to do. 

I hear him sweep into the house and start checking and locking the
doors.  As I'm tearing the hole in my  tights to get the lube to my
ass, I can hear him punch in the security code.  Heavy footsteps bring
him  into the bedroom where I wait, dress hiked up, legs spread and
ready for him.  I glance over my  shoulder to see him fumbling with
his tights to pull them aside and the fast burn of him in me.  Ah,
sweet  pain of being filled. 

Two huge hands on my hips guide us back and forth, meeting and
parting, only his cock to connect us.   Overwhelming pleasure brims
tears in my eyes as he hits all my special places and I come quickly, 
without taking my hands from where they keep me upright on the
footboard.  He is not far behind me,  grunting, saying my name and
other Russian expletives I've taught him while he pumps his come into 
me.  Those hands go from holding me to sliding around me
to hug me to his chest.  Two warm lips meet  my neck. 

"Let's go shower, Sasha.  We can rest and play again, ok?" 

"Yeah, I like that idea," I say as I turn to kiss his mouth.  He leads
the way and the night is one I will put  into my treasury of nights
that only add to the pleasure of this man that I love. 

Not a week goes by after Halloween before Mulder and Scully call us
frantically  asking our help.  It seems  they booked a cruise vacation
and Maggie Scully backed out of caring for William.  She's come down
with  a bad cold and cannot properly care for the boy.  I answer the
phone and can hear Scully getting almost  hysterical. 

"Wait, Dana, calm down.  Do you need us to go and check on her?  How
sick is she?  We can help,  relax."  I know it's useless to try and
interrupt Dr. Scully as she's going on about her mother's symptoms, 
but I really don't care if the post nasal drip gave her tonsillitis. 

"No, Alex, I'm here.  She's got plenty of medications and food to last
her for the time while she's sick.   My problem is someone to watch
William.  I was hoping you and Walter could help us.  Fox and I
haven't  had a vacation..." 

"Fox?  When did he get over his first name?"  I giggle thinking of
calling him by his first name. 

"When his son started to insist on being called 'Little Mulder'.  Then
he realized he could have had worse  names." 

"Like Valery.  Try living that one down."  I pronounce my name in
English, but Scully doesn't get it.  I  don't think Walter told her or
Mulder about my name.  It doesn't matter.  "Why don't you throw some 
clothes in a bag and we'll come get him?  Is he with you?" 

"No, he's with Fox at the house.  Thank you." 

"Anytime, Dana.  You could have asked us first you know.  Your mom may
not be able to keep up with  an eight year old boy." 

I hear her laugh on the other end.  "And you can?" 

"We've been doing a lot of babysitting for Anabelle.  I thought Walter
would have told you.  Her  migraines are getting worse."  I know I
should try harder to be nice to Anabelle.  She's always so sad and 
tired looking lately.  It's killing her, I imagine. 

"Do you know what she takes for them?"  Ever the doctor, Dana
Scully-Mulder with her pediatric practice  in a medical complex not
unlike the one where Anabelle is treated. 

"They had her on Zomig a while, then Migrin, now she's on this Imitrex
stuff.  She injects herself like it's  heroin.  And she has Tylenol
with codeine for when nothing works.  I tell her to just take that." 

There's a moment of silence.  "Does this woman spend a lot of time at
your home?" 

I laugh.  "No, Dana, she's usually bed-ridden.  We take care of the
kid sometimes.  I've been taking her  to and from school this past
week." 

I think about my words.  Anabelle is not doing well at all and it's
scaring the  hell out of Shannon.  That  bothers me.  "I'll have Fox
bring him by later today, is that OK?" 

"Of course!  We got rid of the puppy crap from the den, he can sleep
in there.   Well, we still have Taffy  and Truffle.  Hey, after this
is over, you may have yourself a dog." 

"Oh no, don't you foist your dogs on me!"  I laugh with her and we
make plans to be here when Mulder  bring William over later today. 
Walter is sitting in the den, Truffle in his lap as he surfs through
endless  webpages.  I walk in, greeted enthusiastically by Taffy, who
is big enough to jump into my arms, and too  big to be a lap dog.  I
can hold her. 

"Hey, Vlad, we're going to have a guest until Thanksgiving."  And I
wait for the reaction. 

Two big hands bring Truffle to his face and he kisses her head.  "Does
my girl want guests?  Does she?   Or does she want her daddy all to
herself?"  Tail wagging, tongue lolling, I'm jealous of a dog.  And
he's  making me nauseous.  "Who are we hosting, Sasha?"  That
sickening girlie tone is still in his voice. 

"William.  Mulder and Dana wanna go on vacation and Maggie is sick.  I
said we'd take care of the kid for  a couple of weeks.  Is that OK?" 
I don't expect  him to say no, which is why I made the decision for
us. 

He looks thoughtful for a moment, then raises Truffle until they're
eye level.   "Do you wanna meet little  William?  You'll just love
him, yes you will."  He gives her some more kisses then lets her go on
the floor  as she yips and chases her tail.  I shake my head and walk
away. 

"He'll be here later on, so you better get the place in gear."  We
proceed to vacuum up, run some wet  cloths over the floors, and get
out fresh sheets for the futon in the den.  Walter normally keeps the
place  ridiculously clean, so we don't have much to do. 

Honey doesn't seem to like what's going on, apparently.  She walks
into the kitchen, dumps over her  empty food bowl and trots out the
door.  I follow her out and call her.  She's still learning her name,
not  really used to being domestic.  I figured that she had been a pet
and then discarded when she became  pregnant.  No one has listed her
as missing, and her fur was too well cared for  when she showed up.  
She was just dirty, not matted. 

She eventually walks over to me and sits beside me.  Walter and I have
made chairs for the back yard  and I've gotten down into one.  She
looks at me.  "Girlie, you are going to have to be good.  We can't 
have all this nonsense." 

Honey walks in front of me and puts her head in my lap.  I rub her
ears and head and neck.  I even lean  down to give her a few kisses. 
"You are my sweet girl.  I love your big brown eyes.  I love your
fluffy  fur.  And I love that you don't take any bullshit around here.
 Be nice to William when he gets here,  OK?" 

I pat her again and off she goes.  She'll catch a squirrel or
something.  Hopefully she'll get the ones that  keep teasing Bosco. 
Those are three squirrel carcasses I'll be happy to see on the
doorstep. 

Later that night, William stands in the living room, playing with
Taffy and Truffle while Mulder and Scully  look on in amazement. 
"I've never seen him like this," Mulder says.  "Some mornings, he
won't let Dana  go to work.  We figured it was residual trauma from
all the running we did back in the war.  I don't think  he even knows
we're here right now." 

"Maybe he needs a pet," I say quietly.  Walter shoots me a burning
look, and I know he can tell what I'm  thinking.  Truffle has to go,
and I'm going to bond her with William.  That dog is going home with
that  boy if it kills me.  All I  have to do is get Walter to go along
with it. 

William does break away long enough to hug and kiss his parents
goodbye, then goes back to playing.   Mulder and Scully both look a
little crest-fallen when they realize William isn't going to throw a
fit that  they're leaving as we see  them off.  I put my hand on
Scully's shoulder.  "Red, relax.  The kid is safer   with us than
anywhere else.  And you know that.  You enjoy yourself and get
some rest.  Give the kid a  sister, OK?" 

She knows what I mean.  We all know that the chip in her neck created
William, but it's the pink elephant  that just shit on the coffee
table.  No one wants to talk about it. 

"You're right, Alex.  We'll call when we get a chance to let you know
we're safe." 

I nod, kiss her cheek and we wave as they drive away.  I walk back in
and William looks up at me.  "Did  they go?  I missed them?  Wait, I
didn't tell them something!"  His eyes go wide with fear and panic.  I
 get down on the floor with him and take one of his shaking hands. 

"It's OK, William, they're fine.  They're going to call later.  You
can tell them then.  They know you love  them.  They're happy you're
getting along with the puppies.  Do you like puppies?" 

"Kinda, but mom doesn't think it's a good idea to have one." 

This is interesting, considering she used to have a dog.  "You know
she had one, right?" 

(Continued in part 3)
 
Part 3
See part 0 for story information.


"Huh?" 

"Yeah, she had a dog for a little while.  It was killed by an
alligator, but she still has his tag.  His name  was Quequeg." 

Having William smiling at me is a joy.  "Did Dad have any pets?  He
never talks  much about anything but  the cool X files he had.  And
how much he loves Mom." 

This is going to be an interesting two weeks. 

*-*-*-* 

Something's wrong with Momma.  Again.  She's been sleeping a lot again
and she is taking the big white  pills.  I thought they were supposed
to be for the pain, but she is taking them for any old reason now.  If
 she has a headaches, cramps, whatever.  Grandpa and Alex came and got
me, packed some clothes.   Alex's sister Kate came to stay with Momma
for the weekend.   She used to live with us but now she's  got her own
house. I wish she was still here, she could help Mommy feel better. 
She's a teacher.   Momma wants to send me to her school next year, but
it's a pay-school not free like the one I go to now.   I
hate my school, it's boring.  The teacher gives us easy stuff and most
of the stupid jerks in class can't  even get it right!  Dummies. 

I like William though, he may be a dumb old boy, but he's cute.  He's
tall for eight and a half.   He's got  blue eyes like his momma.  Mine
are green, like Alex's.  I wish Alex was my daddy.  But nooo, I get
stuck  with a daddy that's a crack dealer.  I ain't gonna go see him,
neither.  I hate jails.  Momma took me  once, and I cried the whole
time.  I figure if I scream and cry, she won't make me go.  He done
stopped  callin' us too.  So maybe he has forgotten about
us too. 

"William, let's go look for smooth rocks," I tell him.  He's been here
all week.  His momma and daddy are  cruisin'. 

"Yeah, come on," he says.  I follow him through the trees, with Bosco
and Honey  right on our heels.   Taffy and Truffle stayed at the
house, they aren't allowed out this far.  Grandpa is turnin' something
in  the shed, but the machines are real loud, so we didn't wanna hang
out there. 

At the stream, me and William stop and sit.  He's throwin' rocks in
the water.   It's cold here.  I'm not  gonna stay long.  My Momma
would like this.  To lay here, with her head in the water.  She did
that a  buncha times.  She said the cold made the headaches go away. 
She told me not to tell Grandpa or Alex  that  we were there.  They'd
get mad.  I told her I didn't think so, but I don't argue no more.  If
I do, she  tells me I'm just jealous of attention she's
getting.  Nope, I don't think so!  I hate people always looking  at me
and stuff.  I just wanna be a kid just like my friends. 

William comes and sits with me on the log.  I just look at the water. 
"Grandpa  and Uncle Alex will take  care of you.  I know your mom's
sick." 

"Huh?"  How's he know? 

"They talk.  They think I don't listen.  Mom's like that.  But my dad
knows." 

I nod at him.  He's real cute.  I hope he likes me.  There's a loud
whistle that echoes through the trees.   That's Alex.  You can't hear
him calling, but I can hear that whistle.  The dogs are up and lead us
back  uphill to the house.  I guess we are moving too slow cuz Alex
whistles again.  William holds my hand as  we walk.  "You're gonna be
OK, Shannon.  I promise." 

He kisses my cheek, then runs ahead to catch the dogs 

*-*-*-* 

William and Shannon are sitting on the couch, watching a movie.  As
Alex and I dry the dishes, I look in  and check on them a few times. 
As I turn back, I see them sitting almost on top of each other,
Shannon  resting her head on William's shoulder and they're holding
hands.  "Oh, shit." 

Alex turns to me.  "What, Vlad?" 

"The kids.  They're...close."  He walks to the door and looks out. 

"You think we have a problem?"  Now what?  I shrug.  "We'll go sit
with them a while.  When bedtime  comes, we'll see what's what." 

I get us beers and join the kids in the living room.  Alex is sitting
on the couch with the kids, leaving the  easy chair for me.  I hand an
open one to Alex and notice that Shannon is now cuddled under his arm 
along his side.  All  should be well. 

At bedtime, Shannon agrees to sleep alone in the den with the door
closed.  William doesn't mind  sleeping on the couch.  And we plan on
leaving the door open.  It was a little easier to make love when 
William was in the den.  His door was closed and so was ours.  With
both kids here, not only are we  going to be celibate, but we're
wearing pajamas.  I love the way Alex looks in the t-shirt and sweats
as  he slips under the comforter.  I'm very stuffily dressed 
in navy blue pajamas.  All lights are out, but  neither Alex nor I can
sleep. 

"Vlad?" 

"Yeah?" 

"What's going on here?  We have kids in the house.  My sister is
planning Thanksgiving dinner at her  house.  We're planning on giving
Truffle to the Sculders.  Are we...like..." 

"We're domestic.  We're a family.  We're...normal.  Is that bad?"  I
think on this a moment and wait on  his answer.  It's true.  We are a
domesticated couple of humans.  I wonder if this will send him
running. 

"Was this what it was like to be married to Sharon?"  That's
interesting. 

"Kind of.  I was younger, obviously, more idealistic, more...unwilling
to give of myself.  I thought that  there would be a magical moment
when I'd just trust  her implicitly with all my feelings, my heart and
 emotions.  Sharon wanted to mother me, trivialize my fears about the
bureau.  You know where I've  been, what I've been through, and you
don't make light of it.  This is better than when I was married to 
Sharon." 

He leans over and kisses my cheek.  "It feels good here, too." 

He settles and soon he's asleep.  He always could immediately fall
out.  It's unnerving.  I soon follow him  into sleep. 

At the end of the weekend, I'm almost shocked at what I'm seeing after
dinner.   Alex has let the kids  take him to a toy store to buy a home
video game system,  Sony Play Station 4.  These games have  gotten so
high tech.  I'm not stupid with computers, but I never got past
pinball when it came to arcade  games.  Alex seems to fit right in
with the kids, playing a driving game that he bought  a steering wheel
 and pedal for, as well as some sharp shooting game that
required a special gun.  It was funny watching  Alex point with a lime
green toy gun, after having seen him use a real one.  It was just
ridiculous enough  to make me laugh, and not think of the times he'd
pointed a gun at me.  They were all crowded around  the couch with one
of the folding tables I'd made covered in electronics and small game
disks.  They  looked like the old CD singles that never quite caught
on when CDs first came out.  I remember looking  at them, and the
adapter you needed to use to run it in a CD player, thinking
of 7-inch records and the  yellow disk for the center.  These had huge
entire games on them and I was impressed that Alex had  gotten so
many.  There were even a few games just for Shannon. 

At one point, Alex finishes a target board and the children were
commending him  on the good job he's  done when he looks over at me. 
He looks at the toy weapon in his hand and his face falls.  He pulls
the  game out, to the chagrin of the children and says, "Why don't you
kids go out and play with the dogs for  a while?  Walter and I want to
talk." 

The kids nod dutifully and grab their jackets and the dogs follow them
out.  I call after them, "Stay in the  yard!  And stay out of the
shed!" 

Alex laughs at my instructions.  We've come to understand that with
children, you need to be specific.  If  we stay "stay near the house"
they interpret that  as meaning the house is on the mountain, so if
they're  somewhere on the mountain, they're near the house. 
Thankfully, Alex's whistle is as loud as a steam  whistle for a train.

"Vlad, if you want, I'll get rid of the shooting games.  I didn't
think about..." 

"Sasha, relax.  There's a difference between you holding a bright
green toy, and what happened between  us more than a decade ago.  Now,
come here and kiss me."  He crawls to me, dropping to all fours, 
slinking seductively across the floor, wiggling his ass.  He kneels
before me, hands on my thighs,  reaching toward my face to kiss me. 
He's slow and gentle, but I pull away.  "Sasha, the  kids."  He nods, 
but both children have seen us kissing.  I just don't want to 
give them ideas. 

Maybe I'm being old fashioned, but when Alex takes the kids to school
early Monday morning, I feel  better knowing that William will be up
in Maryland and Shannon will stay here in Virginia.  It's silly, I 
know.  William is a good boy, a well behaved child.  I love letting
him stay here.  I've been in love with  that kid since he was born,
regardless of the way I acted at first.  I can't understand why I'm so
 protective of Shannon.  It must be that little father part of me
sneaking out. 

By the end of the next week, I'm truly sad to see William leave.  He's
a great kid, and he taught me how  to play those damn games, which I'm
hooked on.  We've decided to put it in a box and put it away so he 
and I can catch up on our reading.  There are several Washington Posts
waiting for me.  Alex is loathe to  do it, but he boxes the game and
disks and puts the box in the den.   For now, I'm back to being an
adult  again. 

Alex and I stand on the porch commenting on how rested and tanned
Mulder and Dana look, William  walks out of the house dragging his
duffle bag, pulling Truffle on a leash.  Her tail is wagging and she's
 jumping around happily.  Dana's eyes go wide.  "William, you are not
taking that dog home.  Now, lead  her back into the house and say
goodbye." 

We all turn to Dana with wide eyes at the sternness of her tone.  This
is not the woman who was  unearthly grateful for her son.  This is a
tired mother.  Alex to the rescue.  "I got one word for you, Red.  
Quequeg." 

"How did you know about him?" she asks, shocked. 

"You told me about him after I rescued Bosco.  You loved that little
dog, if I recall correctly.  Now, Truffle  knows her name, is fully
house-trained and responds well to William.  We've been working hard
for the  last two weeks.  If  you make him leave without his dog, I'll
never forgive you." 

The look in Alex's eyes was that of sheer admonishment.  Dana blushes
deeply.  She clears her throat to  say something, but Mulder jumps in
and saves us all.   "You know, Dana, far be it from me to make a 
decision, but I'd like a dog myself.  So, since it's two against one,
you lose.  We have a dog." 

William screams in happiness and hugs his father around the waist. 
I'm sure Mulder will be paying for  that later today, but it was
rather necessary.  The boy needs a pet.  All children should have
pets.  Alex  gets a bag of the puppy  food we've been using, a bowl
for food, one for water and a few chew toys.   She's already wearing
her red harness and leash.  As Scully belts William into
the back of the car, Mulder  stands by his door with Alex and I.  He
smiles and  says, "I'm going to get my ass kicked tonight for that, 
Alex.  I hope you can appreciate the trouble I put myself in for you."

Alex laughs.  "Isn't it nice to have your nuts back, though?"  Mulder
laughs with us.  "That's the beauty of  fucking a guy.  We both keep
our own nuts." 

"I guess," Mulder says.  "Just do me a favor, stop calling her 'Red',
OK? She hates that.  Do it again and  she'll snatch your nuts off
before we leave." 

"I call her Red just to piss her off, my man.  Don't you know that? 
It irks me  when she likes me.  I deal  better with her ire than her
adoration."  I look at  Alex and smack his ass. 

"That's enough out of you," I say, scolding him.  Mulder shakes our
hands, we get hugs from Dana and  the family is off for their home. 
We walk back in, and  notice the quiet.  Truffle was the alpha pup,
and  her loss is noticed.  Especially by Honey, who has Taffy seated
in front of her and is bathing her like a  kitten.  Taffy will have
enough of it soon and run off.  Alex has begun  to put a fire together
for us, so I  decide to get us some brandy to enjoy while we relax. 

Later, sitting on the couch, Alex lays his head on my shoulder.  "I
miss the kids." 

I laugh.  I knew he would.  He loves those children.  "They'll be
back.  You know they will.  We get  Shannon almost every weekend now. 
Which reminds me, have we set a wedding date?" 

"Not that I know of.  When did you want to do it?"  He looks up at me
totally blank.  Shit. 

"I guess we can do it in April.  When the trees are starting to
blossom but it's not too warm for suits yet.   Just one thing."  He
sits up further, attentive.  "We're not doing it at the Closet.  I
love the place, but it's  not  where I want to be married.  We should
do it at Prince William Manor."  The Manor, as everyone  simply calls
it, is the place where most of the upper middle class hold their
functions.  I've already called  to tentatively reserve 
a weekend in April, knowing that Anabelle has not done thing one about
it. 

"Yeah, that's a nice place.  They done fag marriages there?" he asks,
leaning back down.  I really dislike  him using the derogatory terms
around me as if it  were just normal talk. 

"Sasha, why do you keep insulting us?" I ask.  I'm going to find out
once and for all why he does this. 

"Huh?"  He turns to look at me.  "What the fuck are you talking
about?" 

"I'm talking about every time you call us 'queers' or 'fags' or
'homos' or whatever.  Do you hate yourself  that much?  Do you hate me
that much?" 

Alex winces as if physically hit.  He scrunches his face up in serious
thought,  making the wrinkle above  his nose that melts me.  I half
think he's manipulating me, and the other half of me thinks it's just 
unconscious of him when he concentrates.  "I just really mean it as a
joke.  You know?" 

"Yes, it's a self-deprecating joke.  It's also a sign of low
self-esteem and hate for oneself.  I was under  the impression that
you thought rather highly of yourself.  I do.  I think you're an
amazing man.  I always  have.  You managed to do things in your life,
good things, whether you think they're good or not, that I  don't know
other men would have had the strength to do.  You've  lived where
others would have died.   You succeeded where others have surely
failed.  At this point in our lives, we should be proud of who we 
are.  I know  I am." 

He drops his eyes and considers my words a moment.  My hands are
rubbing his shoulders.  A shudder  goes through him.  My Alex lives in
a place I don't quite understand.  I try to imagine what he's feeling,
 but I'm not that empathetic a person.  He tells me quite a bit more
than he used to, willingly so.  I used  to have to draw him out.  Some
things just get lost in the telling, though. 

"I'm sorry, Vlad.  I didn't realize that you felt that way.  I won't
do that anymore.  I do love you, you  know."  The look on his face is
proof that he's telling the truth.  The wrinkle is still there.  I
kiss it, then  his lips and hold him tightly. 

"I love you back, Sasha."  He surprises me tonight by taking me by the
hand to lay on the new faux-fur  rug we've put before the fireplace
and we tenderly make love for hours, gently reacquainting ourselves 
with each other, after spending two weeks fumbling in the dark to
quickly appease each other.   Repeatedly I praise his beauty and he
reassures me of my prowess.  It is a good  night for us. 

*-*-*-* 

I'm surprised at how good a time Walter and I have at my sister's for
Thanksgiving.  She's also invited  Anabelle and Shannon, which is fine
by me.  The day is spent mostly with me reading to Shannon.  She 
isn't feeling well, a  bit of an earache, so TV bothers her, so she
says.  Thankfully, my sister had acquired  a large children's library
and I start off reading "Where the Wild Things Are" which is a lot of
fun for me,  too.  We didn't read these kinds of books in the
institute.  That's how I've been referring to it when I tell 
Shannon about my childhood.  She thinks I grew up in a boarding
school.  I won't burst her illusions. 

At dinner, Shannon only eats a little then nods off in her chair.  I
feel just terrible for her, and tuck her in  on the couch.  Anabelle
is happy enough to continue blabbing to Walter and Katya about
everything and  nothing.  I think she's had a little too much wine,
since she doesn't see my sister getting uncomfortable  as she tells
some pretty dirty jokes to a former nun.  I finally  look at Anabelle
pointedly and say, "I think  that's enough with Penthouse's
top-ten filthy jokes of all time, OK?" 

"Why Alex, I didn't think I'd be upsetting you with these jokes.  My,
I would have thought that some of  them would appeal to you."  Her
tone is honey and poison mixed.  If I could only learn to gauge her 
moods better, I could head off half of this nonsense. 

"Come on, we just ate.  Can't we just talk about normal stuff,
please?"  The look I get from my sister is  hard to read, somewhere
between gratitude and reprimand.  Whatever it is, she turns the
conversation  to her classes and things go more smoothly after that. 
Until I volunteer to drive Anabelle and Shannon  home.  Walter chooses
to stay behind and help with the clean up while I get to haul the two
sleepyheads  home.  At least Anabelle walks into the house. 

After laying Shannon on her bed and bending over to take her shoes
off, I feel something pressing  against my ass.  And it's Anabelle of
all things.  Startled, I jump to the side, confused.  "Hey, I didn't
hear  you," I say, nervously, walking toward the door.  She follows me
out and closes the kid's door behind  her.  I try to get to the door,
but she follows me, putting her hand on it to keep me from opening it.

"Why are you leaving so quickly, Alexander?" she drawls.  Oh
shit...she's hitting on me.  If there's a  bigger waste of her time...

"Walter's waiting for me at Katya's.  I should get there.  He wants to
go home,  I'm sure."  Hopefully  mentioning my future husband's name
will snap her out of  this twisted mood. 

"He knows where you are.  Why don't you stay and have a drink with me?
 It's a long walk back to Kat's  place, and I know a little drink will
keep you warm the way back."  Dear God, she's leaning into me, 
pressing her breasts against me.  They're fake, I can feel it from
here.  I never noticed she had implants,   but they just never feel
right, even through my sweater.  With them pressed against my chest
like this,  I'm more disgusted than anything else.  My dick is 
trying to crawl up into my stomach with my balls. 

"Anabelle, stop it.  I'm gay, remember?" I try to move her away from
me, but it's not working.  She leans  up, seemingly to try and kiss me
so I give her a push.  "Anabelle, cut it out right now!  What the
hell's  wrong with you?  Run through all the straight men in Prince
William County so now you go after the cock  suckers?" 

I know I'm being really harsh, but what she's doing in not cool at
all.  She looks hurt for a moment, then  the familiar look of hate
crawls across her face.  "You fucking faggot!  How dare you shove me! 
Get the  fuck out of my house, you freak!  Get out!" 

I pull open the door and stride away from the house with her
screaming obscenities at me.  She must be  shocking the entire
neighborhood.  I walk past  the Ramsey's and the Mrs. is looking out
at me.  She  waves, I wave back.  She waves me over to her.  What the
hell... 

"Alex, are you all right?  I heard the screaming," she says quietly
through the  screen door as I reach her  front steps. 

"Yes, ma'am, I'm fine, thank you."  May as well cultivate the manners
Walter's teaching me.  And damn it  if Mike Elliot's damn accent isn't
rubbing off on me.  This is from all the "blending" training I got. 

"It's a wonder you still help her out.  She's off her nut, I tell you.
 The lights go on at all hours of the  night.  She screams and cries
about the silliest things.  I swear, I can hear her clear across the
yard.  If  she hadn't cleaned that place up, I'd have called the
authorities.  It's good she treats that girl good.  One  mark on that
kid, I'm calling Child Protective Services on her." 

"Don't you worry about that.  Shannon would tell me if her mom was
hitting her."  I hope. 

She opens the door and reaches out to pat my shoulder.  "If I get
worried, can I call you and Walter?  I  just don't know what to do any
more.  If Mr. Ramsey were still here..."  Her husband died early in
the  summer.  I went to the wake.  Walter and I did some gardening
until she settled her finances and got a  gardener. 

"I hope you will."  I mean that. 

"Someone needs to really love that little girl." 

"I do."  Can't lie to Mrs. Ramsey. 

"Goodnight, Alex." 

"Night, Mrs. Ramsey." 

I walk away from the house, take a look back at Anabelle's darkened
house, and start formulating a plan.   At Katya's house, they're
sitting with coffee when I walk in.  "Where have you been, Alex?" she
asks. 

Walter stands and walks over to me.  "Are you all right?  You're white
as a ghost." 

Here goes everything.  "She hit on me." 

Katya blushes and turns away.  "Are you serious, Sasha?  She...what
did she do?" 

"Pressed her fake ti...breasts on me and asked me to stay for a drink.
 I told her off and split.  I'm sorry,  Vlad..." 

He waves his hand at me.  "No, Sasha, you have no reason to apologize
to me.  I  know you didn't  encourage her.  This finalizes it for me. 
She is...not worth my sympathy." 

Shit shit shit!  This is not what I wanted.  I just wanted to confess.
Granted, I felt guilty about it.  Rolled  it over in my head too many
times what I may have done to encourage her, as I walked home.  I
noticed  a wind blowing tonight, cooling my anger and embarrassment as
I trod back to Katya's house.  Her small  home, rented from the
Teasdales who moved up in the world but know the value of equity, was
a  welcome sight, knowing I could get more opinions than my simple
thoughts. 

"Vlad, we can't just...we need to talk about this more.  There are
things you don't know."  I look over at  my sister whose head is down.
 "What am I saying,  like you'd gossip about her to anyone."  Katya
looks  up at me and gives me a tight smile.  I relate the information
that Mrs. Ramsey gave me to them and  Walter starts rubbing the bridge
of his nose.  Since he's gotten his eyes lasered, he hasn't worn
glasses,  but he still rubs his face in the familiar pattern. 

"We need to step in, Sasha," he says, softly.  I don't even think he's
noticed using my pet name in front  of Katya.  Then again, no one but
he and I call her  that.  Everyone else calls her Kate. 

"Step in and do what?  Take Shannon?  Run her life?  No, we can't do
that.  You're not her father.  I'm  not her husband.  No way, no how. 
She's gotta fall apart on her own."  I'm firm with that statement.  
And I won't budge. 

*-*-*-* 

I can't believe Alex is being this obtuse.  How can he just let her
destroy her  life?  And Shannon's?  "You  can't mean that, Sasha.  Do
care so little for Shannon that you'll allow Anabelle to hurt her?" 

"Wait a minute.  I never said that.  I'm pretty sure that if she hurts
the kid,  Shannon'll call me.  I have no  doubt on that.  Mrs. Ramsey
knows to call us if  she hears anything.  Until then, we can't do
anything.   We have to let her live her life.  Period." 

He drops his head because he knows I'm right.  My sister to the
rescue.  "On a lighter note, I have the  sample invitation for your
wedding if you'd like to see it." 

She hands me a card set made from heavy paper, gray and white
marbleized paper with a black border  that highlights the marble under
it.  The printing is steel gray and raised.  The envelopes are just
the  gray and white marble.  The  response cards and envelopes are
smaller but mirror the invitations.  I read  it out loud. 

"Mr. Alexander Valery Krycek and Mr. Walter Sergei Skinner request the
honor of  your presence to  celebrate their nuptials on April 3rd,
2010.  Please join them on this auspicious occasion to help unite 
them in matrimony."  After that  is listed the manor and the times and
I can't read anymore with tears in  my eyes.  Alex sits beside me on
the couch and kisses my cheek.  "It's for real, Vlad.  April 3rd, you 
gonna be my old man." 

He smiles at me and we laugh.  His old man.  I'm old.  Oh God, this is
real.  I'm fifty-seven years old.   He's forty-six.  Why is he with
me?  He can have any young man in the Closet, or anywhere for that 
matter.  Why he wastes his time with me, I'll never know. 

"Come on, Vlad, take me home.  We have to go shopping tomorrow." 

"God, that's right, it's almost Christmas." 

I feel a slap on my arm and turn to Katya.  She's rather petite, next
to Alex and I, but taller than Dana.   She reminds me of Monica Reyes,
only her face is  more feminine, her lips fuller, like Alex's.  Her
green  eyes are narrowed and her brow furrowed.  She and Alex could
have been twins.  "Don't take the Lord's  name in vain, Walter." 

I smile and nod to her.  "My apologies to you and the Lord,
Ekaterina."  I kiss  her proffered cheek and  Alex and I make our way
home. 

I spend the next two weeks blissfully with Alex, quietly shopping for
Christmas.  We spend an obscene  amount of money on our family and
friends.  It's nice, though.  Alex and I love shopping for toys 
especially for the baby.  Shaine, Patty, Gerry and Mikey all had a
baby girl a month ago.  Her name is  Heather.  She has dark hair and
dark eyes, but that she could have easily inherited from Shaine. 
They're  keeping the father a secret.  Neither man wants to know. 

Alex is getting gifts for Shannon and plans on making some overture to
give them to her.  I don't know  how this will work, but I make my
amends, as Katya suggests, and purchase a string of pearls for 
Anabelle.  We must give her something.  I'm afraid that she'll sell
the pearls, though.  I can't think of  that.  I'll give them to her,
from us both, and that will be that.  She can do with them as she
pleases. 

We arrive home, exhausted, counting down on the advent calendar Katya
gave us, twenty more days  until Christmas.  We put away the gifts in
the den and settle  in the living room with affectionate dogs.   Taffy
is just a bundle of joy these days, getting big.  We had her spayed at
five months, as was  suggested by Diane, and I agreed.  Taffy
shouldn't reproduce.  If we want more puppies, we'll adopt  them. 
Honey was spayed as well.  Bosco, that poor boy, he growled 
at me for a month.  I told Alex it  was essential that I took Bosco. 
He's my boy. 

Eventually, the dogs move away, realizing that both daddies want to
neck on the  couch and grind on  each other.  Alex, to me, is the only
link to poetry and art I still maintain.  His love is magic,
transforming  me into another being.   I am a young man again, all
hormones and limbs.  He, in turn, becomes a bundle   of passion and
fire.  We take our passion to our room and move together slowly, 
languidly, making love  like old friends. 

The look on his face as I move inside him, dragging my cock past his
prostate with each stroke, proves to  me that I know him now, truly
know him, giving him  pleasure and he trusts me enough to show me how 
he feels.  With each stroke, he grinds against my body, thrusting his
cock into my groin to get contact.  I   try to reach for him, to pull
in the counter movements he loves so, but he slaps me away, so I leave
him.   Instead, I stroke his back and hips, squeeze his firm ass while
I nibble and lick his neck.  He grabs at my  shoulders,
pulling on me as if I were slipping away.  "Oh, Vlad, more, faster,
I'm almost there..." he  whispers and I obey him. 

We move together, familiar in our coupling enough to know when each
other will come to heighten it.  I  can feel him tightening around me
so I angle to his prostate more, watching his head fall back as his 
eyes roll up.  He comes, tightening on me to bring me along with him
and we both contract in the  familiar dance of orgasm together.  I
hold him tight, seared with his heat, sealing our flesh together. 

My Alex is feral, rubs against me like a tomcat, as if one fuck isn't
enough for him.  "Can you get it up  again?  I want you again tonight.
 I want to come  in your ass.  Can we?" 

Hot lips play with my ear lobe as he tries to use his hands to tease
me back to  life.  "No, Sasha...not yet.   Lay with me a while."  I
tighten my arms a bit and nuzzle against his neck.  He giggles. 

"Vlad, you used to get it up faster than this.  Are you tired of me?" 
The pouty quality of his voice tells  me he's teasing.  I tease back.

"On the contrary, my love.  You satisfy me so thoroughly, there is
nothing left  of me for a second round.   But I think I can manage
something in a while."  I can feel his smile against my cheek and we
settle a  moment.  Then the phone rings, setting the dogs off to
barking. 

Pulling away, he looks at me.  "She'd better be dead.  Otherwise, I'm
not going." 

I pull myself out of bed and answer.  I'm not prepared for the other
party to be from the Virginia Division  of Social Services.  A social
worker named Kathy  Tsirkas is on the line, asking me if Alex was able
to take  custody of Shannon.  "Excuse me?  What happened to Anabelle?"

She goes on to tell me that Anabelle was found by paramedics passed
out in her bed, several bottles of  medication around and Shannon was
hysterical.  She kept insisting we come to Manassas General to get 
the girl.  Alex was already out of bed and in the bathroom washing
himself.  I could barely hear the  woman  with Shannon screaming in
the background and the dogs barking at the door.  I looked up and 
noticed the flashing red and blue lights in our driveway through 
the window and knew it was serious. 

I walked with the cordless phone into the bedroom to grab my robe and
strode back to the front door to  open it, shushing the dogs.  Two
local officers I don't know are standing in my entranceway.  I hold my
 hand up and say into the  phone, "Ma'am, I have the police here. 
I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can.   Tell Shannon that we're
coming for her.  Make sure she knows we will be there as soon as we
can.  We  live a distance so it may be more than an hour. 
But make sure she knows we're coming." 

I click off before she can say any more and look at the two young men.
 Both are taller and wider than  me, one white, one black.  Both were
dark-haired, but the green eyes against the light skin of the officer 
named Richards makes me think of Alex.  He comes striding out of the
bathroom with a towel wrapped  around his waist as continues on into
the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.  I'm sure he's  dressing. 

"Can I help you gentlemen?" I ask, looking up at someone for the first
time in a long time. 

The other cop, O'Leary, speaks up.  "Are you Mr. Skinner?"  I nod. 
The green-eyed cop is silent, but  looks at the three dogs lined up
behind me, wary.  "We were asked to escort you to Manassas General to 
take custody of the  little girl." 

"Asked?  By whom?  I just got off the phone with the social worker. 
I don't..." 

O'Leary holds a large, dark hand up.  "Stuart Flannigan asked us to
help out.  He's got the police band at  home and radioed us.  We're
new around here, anyway, and he thought we should learn the mountain. 
 Nothing's wrong, just taking care of the child, sir.  Is Mr. Krycek
here?" 

I smile.  Stuart isn't so bad after all.  "He was the gentleman you
saw go into  our bedroom.  Allow me to  dress and we'll follow you to
the hospital."  I turn  and see the dogs rear up, Bosco starts to
crouch in  defense.  "Relax, kids, all is well."  I walk over and give
each of them pets and hug my boy. 

Alex opens the door and stands there, waiting for me.  I follow him
into the bedroom and we close the  door.  "What the fuck did she do?"

"She took a toxic dosage of several migraine medications that reacted
badly.  She's stable, and they don't  think it was a suicide attempt,
based on the blood work.  But she obviously will be there a few days. 
So  when they began talking to Shannon, she started screaming for us. 
Are you OK with this?"  I can see  him getting more and more angry
with each sentence, but he takes a deep breath and looks up at me. 

"I would rather suck up to that cow than let Shannon go to a foster
home."  He's already dressed so he  goes to the door.  "I'll wait in
the Rover.  I'd rather you drove.  Shannon will probably fall asleep
on the  ride back here." 

I nod at him and take him in my arms to kiss him.  God, how lucky I am
to have a man who is so clear  on what he wants.  Meaning me.  I dress
quickly and we head out, following the troopers.  Alex does  something
I've never seen him do as we quickly make our way to the hospital.  He
bites his nails.  This is  a new one on me.  Domesticity is wearing
away his ingrained responses of no response.  He's lost his  poker
face and he can't sit still while being nervous. 

I don't even bother to say anything, knowing he's lost in his
thoughts.  I don't want to risk him snapping  at me.  I don't need to
worry about that.  "Vlad, I know this isn't the best time to bring
this up, but I'm  going to talk  to your old lawyer, Bruce.  He's
still practicing part time.  I want him to draft up paperwork  for us
to take custody of Shannon." 

I can't say I'm very shocked.  I'm not.  I am, however, in the same
frame of mind as I was before when I  had considered this possibility.
 "Sasha, I do not  think the state of Virginia will give custody of a
young  girl to two gay men, married or not.  If we take her to court,
the decision will most likely be in her favor.   We don't stand a
chance." 

"How do you figure?" he asks, getting angry. 

"Sasha, calm down," I say, trying to soothe him, but he's not having
it, shaking his head.  He looks at me  and I know that this can either
make or break the rest of our lives.  "There's no easy way to say
this, but  to just say it.  When the social worker looks into your
background, and you don't have any history before  1994, and it gets
sketchy in some places, what are you going to tell her?" 

He's silent a moment, sits back, folds his arms and sniffs at the air
deeply, the way he does when he's  stung, then looks over at me.  "Mel
and Ringo have filled in my life for me.  They've made me real 
documents, you've seen them.  You think if the IRS hasn't questioned
me, the Virginia Division of Social  Services will be that much
smarter?  I don't think so.  Admit it.  You don't want Shannon, do
you?" 

He had me there.  "No, Sasha, I don't." 

*-*-*-* 

I'm not surprised that he said it.  I knew he doesn't want kids.  This
isn't news to me.  Shannon is  different.  She's not just any kid. 
"Vlad, I'll adopt  her without you, you know.  She'll be my
responsibility.   You'll have nothing to worry about." 

I breathe deeply, trying to keep the shudder out of my voice.  I'm
trying to hold it in.  I don't want to cry,  I'm not a girl, but the
truth is, Shannon needs me more than Walter does.  I am willing to
make that  choice for everyone. 

"Where does this leave us, Sasha?  Are we getting married, but I'm to
have no contact with you as you  live with this child?" 

This is going to be the hardest statement I've ever made.  "If you
can't accept  Shannon, I can't marry  you, Walter.  That's my
decision."  I hold onto the door handle, expecting the truck to swerve
and stop  short, but he doesn't.  He  continues following the car in
front of us.  They have the lights on, but no siren  until we get to
intersections.  I can see Walter's jaw grinding, but I can't think
about that.  If I do, I'll  start to cry.  All I want is to get to
the hospital and talk to the social worker and take Shannon home. 

We pull up at the Emergency Room entrance and I jump out.  Walter
pulls away, I'm assuming to park.  I  rush in and stride right to the
desk.  "Is Shannon Mitchell here with a social worker?"  Thank God 
Sammy, the young man I defended in the Closet one night, is at the
desk. 

"She's in the waiting area with Mrs. T.  She's been pretty quiet since
I went in and told her I knew you  and you were on your way.  That
lady has been trying, but Shannon is so scared of strangers, you know 
that.  Go on in there,  I'll direct Walter when he gets here." 

I walk away and see a well-dressed woman, early forties with coiffed
salt-and-pepper hair talking to a  red-eyed Shannon.  The little girl
looks up at me and starts at a run toward me.  I scoop her up, which
is  getting harder to do as she's sprouting up like a weed.  Arms are
around my neck and legs around my  waist, she starts crying again,
babbling about what she saw and found.  I shush her, wiping her face
with  a handkerchief and smoothing down her hair. 

"Mr. Krycek, I'm Kathy T.  My last name is a pain in the neck to say,
you know the Greeks.  Obviously,  Shannon would like to go with you. 
I have your information stored in my PDA, I just need you to sign  the
contract of foster care."  I'm almost shocked by everything she
rattles off to me. 

"How do you have my information?  And what do you have?"  I'm a
little concerned.  Then again, if there  were anything in my records
that they objected to, I wouldn't be taking this kid home with me. 

"Oh, you're listed at Shannon's school as an emergency contact.  The
Child Protective Services division  has access to those records.  We
have your address and phone numbers.  Mrs. Mitchell signed off for you
 to be contacted in an emergency should she not be reachable." 

I smile.  "I didn't know that.  Thanks, I feel better knowing she
trusts us." 

The smile fades from her face into concern.  "Us?  She didn't mention
a wife.  Will that be a problem for  her, taking care of Shannon?" 

My face falls.  "I'm not married.  My fiance is a man, actually.  Is
that a problem for you?" 

I can see the gears moving in her head, but she doesn't seem to get
upset about  it.  Shannon, as if on  cue, turns her face back to bury
in my neck and tightens her arms and legs around me, causing me to 
gasp.  "Petal, loosen up, you'll crack my ribs." 

Kathy T. smiles at me and says, "I think that at ten-thirty on a
Thursday night, I couldn't find a more  suitable place for her to
stay.  I don't think at any time of any day I could.  She doesn't look
like she'd let  go." 

I hear Walter behind me talking to the doctor, that same asshole who's
been shuffling Anabelle from  medication to medication.  He's not fit
to treat her, personal feelings aside.  I've ceased thinking of her as
 Anabelle, but as Shannon's mother.  That makes all the difference. 

"How is she?" I ask.  The doctor looks pointedly at Shannon, then at
me.  "Oh, she should hear this.  She  found her mother.  If Anabelle
is going to be OK, she should hear it." 

Walter nods his assent at my request.  "Well, she's stable and
resting.  She took a toxic dose of what  looks like Zomig, Migrin,
Imitrex and Tylenol with codeine.  From what I saw, she layered them
and they  all worked together to put her almost into a coma.  When the
blood work came back, the individual levels  weren't high enough to
indicate a suicide attempt." 

"Mama just wanted to sleep.  Said she ain't slept for days.  I don't
know, I slept fine."  Shannon lays her  head on my shoulder again and
nuzzles against me.  I pat her to settle her. 

"Like I said, she's stable.  She's on dialysis to cleanse her
bloodstream, since the Imitrex was injected.   We're going to admit
her for observation and she should be better in a day or two.  You'll
probably be  able to bring her by  tomorrow.  It's best for you to go
home for now."  The doctor walked away leaving  the two men to stand
with their charge alone in the noisy hospital corridor. 

"Come on, Sasha, let's take our girl home," he said quietly, brushing
a hand over her hair.  I'm not sure if  he's softening, or realizing
that to keep me means to also welcome this girl into our lives.  She's
already a  part of mine. 

I follow him to where he's parked and get into the back with Shannon. 
She settles against my side as  Walter heads toward her house.  I look
down at her and say, "We're gonna get you some pajamas and  clean
clothes.  I'll take you to school in the morning.  I hope you finished
your homework."  She nods  and yawns. 

I watch as she wobbles through the house.  The place is a wreck, and I
don't blame Walter when he  cleans up the left behind medical
supplies.  For her birthday, I had purchased Shannon a full set of 
Cinderella luggage, knowing her affinity for the character.  Her bags
are already packed and waiting to  take her to our house.  I look down
at her. 

"Do you always have your bags packed like this?" I ask. 

She looks down a moment, bits of her blonde hair falling around her
face.  She'd pulled the ever-present  pony tail elastic out of her
hair and twisted it  up.  She once said she thought "big girls ought
to wear  their hair up" and said she'd do that when she was a big
girl.  Finding your mother hanging off the bed,  unmoving and a puddle
of vomit on the floor constitutes growing up to  me. 

Walter is waiting in the living room for us.  He gives a weak smile to
Shannon who smiles brightly at him.   Then he leads us out of the
house, making sure the lights are out and locking the door.  Shannon
and I  sit in the back again and she's asleep before we're halfway
home.  She's asleep across my chest, and I'm  just humming to her. 
Walter keeps looking at us in the rearview mirror, but I can't read
the look in his  eyes.  I'm too tired to try. 

At the house, Walter opens the doors and quiets the dogs for me to
take Shannon  into the den.  I don't  even bother with sheets or
pajamas, just settling her down.  With tomorrow being Friday, I don't
think I'll  make her go to school.  She won't be able to concentrate
knowing her mother is in the hospital. 

Walter sets our alarms, as usual, and meets me in the bedroom.  I
don't care if  he's angry with me or  not, I'm sleeping comfortably in
my bed.  After shedding  my clothes, I get in on my side, the right
side.   He slips in, wearing his briefs, and we turn out the lights. 
Neither of us are ready to sleep, as we're  both  stiffly lying in our
backs. 

Just as I'm ready to roll over onto my side, I feel him reach for my
hand.  He squeezes it tightly.  "Sasha,  I love you.  Very much.  But
we cannot just sue for custody of this little girl and try to raise
her.  You  need to think about  this.  It seems like you just made
this decision without thinking about it." 

"Oh, I've thought about it.  I thought you'd back me up, too.  I
thought you'd support my decision.  I  thought you needed to feel
needed.  Well, Shannon needs you, like I did." 

"She needs a mother, not two grown men, Sasha..." 

"Vlad!  She needs at least one stable parent.  I thought we could give
her two.  Why are you doing this?   To punish me for all that brooding
and running around  when I was depressed about Katya?  Is this pay 
back for thinking I slept around?  I didn't, you know.  I just crawled
into a numb place in a bottle..." 

(Continued in part 4)
 
Part 4
See part 0 for story information.


"I know, Sasha.  It's not that.  I just..." 

"What about Halloween?  Was that bullshit?  You dressed like a fucking
cartoon character for her.  You  made a fool out of yourself all
afternoon.  And making  me put up with that woman?  Making me fall in 
love with that kid, *you* did that.  I thought she was your main
concern.  I mean..." 

"God damnit, I like the kid, but I like to take her home.  Watching
kids and raising kids are two  completely different things.  Jesus,
Sasha, taking her to  the bathroom, how do we handle that?  Or 
bathing..." 

"What the fuck are you talking about?  How *do* we handle that?  I've
been taking care of that kid for  close to two damn years.  She's
pretty much old enough to take care of herself in most respects.  I 
just..." 

And I finally feel like I can't hold it any more.  The tears scare me
at first,  but I can't help giving in to  them.  I feels good to let
out the hurt and fear  I've held in all evening.  I'm a bit surprised
when two  arms come about me and  he holds me against that broad,
strong chest.  A place I know well.  A place  that gives me the
comfort and support I needed adjusting to life after the war, 
outside the Consortium.   This is what I long to be to someone else. 

"Vlad, why don't you want to adopt her?" I ask simply, after I've
calmed down.   I must know. 

"It's not that easy.  I love the girl, she's wonderful.  I just do not
think we're the best parents for her.   I'm an old man.  I just want
to fish and fuck  and rest with my husband and my dogs.  I've had
enough  stress and pain in my first fifty-five years of life.  When
you came back to me, my second life started.  I  love that you need
me.  But think about it.  She's a child..." 

"You love William.  You jumped into being William's grandfather like
it was second nature.  Don't tell me  you wouldn't raise him if
something happened to Dana and Mulder."  See you get out of that one.

"He's a boy, it's different.  I have more in common with him." 

"So, because she's a girl, you don't want her?  That's fucking
insane!" 

"Sasha, think about it.  I ruined a perfectly good marriage with a
perfectly good woman, ignored a sexy  secretary who'd sleep with me in
a moment, then went a married a man who looks just like me.  How the 
hell am I gonna do with a little girl?  I'll make her hate me, just
like all the other women in my life.  Dana  is a special case, so
forget it.  Just...trust me, would you?" 

I bury my face in the silky hair of his chest, between his pecks and
take a deep breath of his spicy scent.   "I love when you hold me. 

"I love holding you.  And I love when you hold me, too." 

"Being needed is a wonderful thing." 

He pauses.  "It is, Sasha."  I think he's getting it. 

"The way that I needed you, when I first got here, the way that I
clung to you and watched you and  listened to you, that's the way she
needs me.  And it feels fucking fabulous.  I know why you put up with 
me for so long, dealing with all my bullshit.  The feeling that
someone wants your love and no one else's  to settle their fears, it's
better than any drug in the world.  I get it now." 

I place a kiss on his chest and wait.  The ball is in his court, now.

*-*-*-* 

How can I argue with him?  How can I not give him everything he
desires?  Yes, I care for this girl, but I  have no idea how to raise
children.  I'm so frightened of the harm we can do if we make mistakes
with  her.  Tomorrow, we'll have to see what is going on with Anabelle
tomorrow.  Maybe we can share   custody for Shannon.  That's for
tomorrow. 

"Come on, moya lyubov, let's sleep.  We can talk more when she's in
school tomorrow." 

"I think I'm going to let her stay home, tomorrow.  I'll call the
school and let them know what's going on.   Thank you, Vlad." 

I gently kiss his slack mouth and against his lips I whisper,
"Anything for you, my love." 

He settles against me and we drift off. 

In the morning, Shannon is mildly aware of where she is.  Alex and I
wake early, showering and dressing  quickly so that when she does
wake, she isn't bombarded with naked men.  She isn't happy to miss 
school, actually, and is somewhat trepidatious about seeing her
mother. 

Alex makes sure she bathes and dresses while I put breakfast together.
 Shannon  likes waffles, so I mix a  batter for her, with vanilla like
she likes it, and make a big, fresh Belgian waffle.  On the plate with
 banana and strawberry slices, I get a glass of orange juice out for
her and a Flintstones vitamin. 

Alex has helped her brush and braid her hair, which she likes.  It
makes her look like Heidi and I think  she's adorable today.  A blue
sweater, blue jeans and her powder blue work boots, as if she worked,
she  looks like Alex's daughter all right.  No matter what mistake I
could make with this child, Alex will be the  best person to raise
her.  I love him, but I can't deny him. 

When we reach the hospital, Anabelle is still asleep, so we wait
outside and down the hall.  That doctor,  whom I wouldn't even allow
to treat the dogs, is standing at the nurses' station, signing a
chart.  I decide  to go over and ask  how she's doing. 

"Dr. Watson, how is Mrs. Mitchell doing?" I ask, holding my hand out. 
He looks  at it, like it's a foreign  object, then dismissively gives
it a brief tug. 

"Oh, she'll be fine, I guess.  I'll release her today.  Her blood
levels are close to normal.  Barring another  'incident'" and he
highlights the word making air-quotes with his fingers "she should be
just fine.  I *am*  going to have to refer her to another doctor,
though." 

"Why?  And is there some question about the accident?"  Now, I'm
irritated.  He's trivializing this whole  thing, and I'm starting to
wonder what Anabelle was really up to. 

"Well, really, Mr. Skinner, think about it.  She only takes enough
medication to render herself  unconscious, but no where close to a
toxic level.  All the nights and weekends she spent in the clinic 
doing my scuttle work, it's clear what she's doing.  She's trying to
get my attention, to see her as  someone I need to save.  It won't
work.  I'm not at all interested in her, and I think it's about time 
someone told her that." 

My ire has been piqued and it takes all I have in my not to bash this
bastard's  face in.  He thinks she's  still stuck on him. 

"Just what are you insinuating?" I ask, letting the wrinkles back onto
my forehead. 

"Mr. Skinner, I know that you were brought up in the north, so you're
not familiar with our fine southern  women.  I'm a Georgia boy
originally, but I went to school up north, in Columbia, so I try to
mask my  accent..." 

"You're doin' a poor job," I drawl, letting my Pennsylvania farm boy
voice peek  out. 

"Be that as it may," he continued, "I know when I'm being Belled.  You
think I really buy all of this  nonsense about headaches?  Come on,
Mr. Skinner.  You were an investigator, you should know a scam  when
you see it." 

"A scam?  Have you ever had migraine headaches?" I ask, pulling myself
to my full height and crossing  my arms over my puffed out chest. 

"Well, no, but I read a few articles..." 

"Articles?  Give me a goddam break!  I suffered for years.  And I know
what to look for.  She would lay  on my couch with cold compresses on
her head.  Her daughter told me she would sneak to the snowcap  runoff
stream by my house and let her head soak for hours to relieve the
pain.  This is a woman whose  entire  life revolved around her child
until her entire quest became to alleviate her pain.  You know what, I
 want you to release her, and I'll take her to a real doctor.  One who
will listen to her and not ignore her  because he thinks she's 
hitting on him, or simply because she's a woman!" 

I stalk away from that bastard and enter Anabelle's room, where she's
sitting up, having her breakfast.   She looks up at me and says, "Oh,
Walter, please, tell me Shannon didn't see me like that." 

I try to smile at her but I can't.  I sit on the bed and take her
hand.  "She was the one who called 911 to  get the ambulance." 

"Oh, Lord in Heaven, Walter...is she...was..."  Anabelle drops her
face into her free hand grips me tighter  with the other.  I hang onto
her and say, "Look, I'm going to get you released.  This asshole says
he  doesn't think you're really having headaches and thinks you're
Belling him.  I'm going to get  you to a real  doctor, all right?" 

She looks up at me, and the little bit of mascara she had left has run
down her  face.  I help her out of  the bed, to the bathroom to wash
up, and she shoos me  out to dress.  I meet Alex and Shannon in the 
hall and she looks up at me.  "Is she OK?" 

This time, I smile widely.  "Yes, sweetie, she's just fine.  We're all
going home and Alex and I are going  to take care of you guys for a
while.  Why don't  you go and see how she's doing?" 

I take Shannon from Alex and let her go into Anabelle's room.  Alex
looks at me  and crosses his arms.   "We're taking care of whom?" 

"If you're going to get custody of that child, you're going to have to
ease her  away from Anabelle.  That  woman will not give up her only
daughter to a man she used to hate.  This is going to take time.  And 
maybe Anabelle needs us to  help out so she can figure out the cause
of these headaches and cure  them." 

After dressing and signing all of her papers, I drive us all to the
little house where all the excitement had  been.  The stench of vomit
is thick in the house, forcing Anabelle to cover her mouth.  "Dear
Lord in  heaven, what is wrong with me?  Can you all help me clean
that up?  I have cleaning stuff..." 

It's like she's her old self.  I don't get it.  She rushes into the
kitchen and  gets cleaning supplies and rags.   I help her scrub her
rug as well as we can, while Alex helps Shannon clean up her room. 
After Anabelle  packs a bag, unloads the perishables in the
refrigerator into a garbage bag, and we lock up tight, we all  get
back in the Range Rover to go spend some time at the cabin. 

We settle in easy enough.  Anabelle was given a prescription for
Vicodin for her pain, and she's decided  to abandon the migraine
medications since they weren't helping her.  She'd dropped it in on
the way and  Cletus, Miss Cleophus' son, filled it right away for her.
 And gave her the first refill for  it, as well.  I get  her a glass
of water and settle her on the couch in the den, turning the TV toward
her.  We keep a 27"  television in there for when we're surfing and
want to watch, but we've maybe turned it on twice. 

She's got it set to some soap opera, but soon she's asleep.  Dana once
told me that cancer patients who  experience great amounts of pain,
when finally achieving a sufficient amount of pain relief, will sleep
for  a long time.  I knew we could grab up Shannon and lay in the
supplies. 

Shannon is reluctant to leave Taffy for long, as they were snuggling
on the floor, but with a hug and a  very un-Terminator-like "I'll be
back!" we head off to the Giant to get some fresh food.  We start, as 
always, in the produce section and I notice a special display of
off-season, greenhouse-grown cherries.   Almost as much as I love
peaches, I love cherries. 

*-*-*-* 

Walter makes a bee-line straight for the cherries.  I knew he would. 
And he's so damn picky.  Leave it to  Shannon to pick up on it. 

"Grandpa, Whacha doin'?" she asks, looking at him with a cocked head. 
The Giant has new carts with  seats for older kids and she's sitting
there, looking  at him. 

"Choosing cherries, sweetie, why?"  He doesn't even look up, tossing
away three  cherries for each one he  puts in the bag. 

"Why aren't you keeping the light ones?" 

"Because there is no fruit as sweet as a Dark Cherry."  He gives her a
wide smile and goes back to  picking. 

"Why are they so good?"  This is why I love this little girl. 

"Always remember this: the darker the berry, the sweeter the juice. 
OK?" 

I give Walter a sideways glance.  I wonder if my man ever had jungle
fever. 

We whip through the supermarket and whisk our way home.  We first
check on Anabelle, who is still  asleep, then unpack the groceries. 
Shannon looks around the living room and asks, "Can we get a 
Christmas tree?" 

I look at Walter, who starts to smile.  "Oh, maybe Alex can take you
to cut one  down.  That's what we  did last year.  And I've been
carving some new ornaments.  I think that we should decorate the tree.
  Sasha, you wanna take our girl to get a tree?" 

I look at him, trying to figure him out.  "Well, I don't think we can
manage carrying the tree without  you." 

"Yeah, grandpa, we need you there, come with us!"  She is bouncing on
the balls  of her feet, braids  swinging. 

"OK, I think we'll all go get a Christmas tree." 

I'm kinda shocked at the way he's acting.  He's chipper and he's
supportive. I'm almost worried.  Yet, we  go to the same slope we had
last year and we let Shannon pick out the tree.  It's tall, and a
beautiful  bright green.  She smiles up at me and says, "Like our
eyes." 

"Yeah, our eyes."  She waits while I saw and Walter holds the tree up.
 She squeals and claps as it comes  apart and we carry it back to the
house.  After setting it up in the stand with water, Walter checks on 
Anabelle.  He walks out and says, "She's sleeping like a baby,
breathing deeply.  She may sleep through  the night without waking." 

"Is that right?" Shannon asks.  The worry is starting to sow on her
face.  A seven year old kid should  never show worry.  I squat beside
her and give her a  nudge. 

"Hey, relax.  When people hurt a lot, like your mom, for a long time
and loose sleep, once they get the  right medicine that relieves the
pain, they sleep as much as they can.  Get all that rest back that
they  lost.  She's just fine.  If she wasn't, we would tell you." 

Shannon nods and goes back to unwrapping our ornaments.  She looks at
the tree and says, "There  won't be enough.  It's big.  We got stuff. 
Can we get 'em, Alex?  Huh?" 

I look at Walter.  "Want me to take her for the ornaments?" 

"Sure, sounds good.  I'll wrap the lights and start dinner.  Call me
when you start back, OK?  What do  you want to eat?" 

"Fried chicken!" she shouts.  Walter nods and shoos us away.  We go
while he has his back turned.   Shannon likes sitting in the front
with me.  She watches  the scenery go by, then starts one of her all
too  familiar "adult" observations.  "We look alike, Alex." 

"A little, yeah." 

"I wanna tell people that you're my daddy.  I want people to stop
thinking Mama  is a hoochie." 

I have to snicker at that.  "Who says that?" 

"Some kids at school say their mama's said it.  She used to..." 

I'm suspicious.  "Tell me, Shannon.  You know that if you tell me the
truth, you'll feel better." 

"You'll get mad at Mama."  She looks down into her folded hands. 

"No, I won't." 

"There were a couple times she went out and then came home with a
man."  Her voice is so low I can  barely hear her over the engine. 
Thankfully, we pull up  to the house and I can shut the engine. 

"Who was watching you?"  I pull off my seat belt and turn to her. 

"No one.  She wasn't out late.  They would yell a lot." 

"Who?" 

"Mama and her beaux.  They'd start out quiet, but after a while, the
bed would squeak and then they'd  yell and stuff.  Then they'd be
quiet by the time I went to bed." 

"How often did she do this?"  She left the kid alone to get laid.  And
never told the kid about the birds  and the bees.  We let it go and
Shannon leads me to the basement, through the kitchen, where they 
keep the ornaments.  Anabelle  is a surprising woman.  Everything in
the basement is on crates off the  floor,  and looking at the wall,
there was a flood once.  I know she rents the house, so she must have 
complained a lot about it.  She had to sell her old house,
the one that had roof damage, after she lost her  secretarial job. 

All the ornaments are in plastic bubble wrap in big Rubbermaid
containers.  Everything is labeled and  organized.  She's a conundrum,
that woman.  I grab the containers and haul them all up the stairs and
 we're back on our way to the cabin.  Shannon takes great joy in using
my phone to call Walter to tell him  we're heading home.  We need to
move off this mountain.  The drive that used to be peaceful is 
becoming a huge waste of time. 

At the cabin, Walter calls me into the kitchen after we've settled
Shannon to unwrapping and setting out  the ornaments she wants to put
on the tree.  "What's up, Vlad?" I ask as I kiss him hello. 

"I called Dana.  I want her to give Anabelle a physical.  I don't
trust any local doctor.  She's in San Diego  with Mulder and William
for the holidays to see Bill and Tara and the kids.  They'll b3e back
the first week  of January.  You think Anabelle will agree?" 

The look on his face is pure concern.  I reach out and stroke his
cheek.  All the while I was concerned for  the kid and ignoring the
woman, that's where his  concern lay.  At least both ladies will be
cared for until  we can figure out how to treat Anabelle's headaches.

"I think she'll do anything you ask of her.  She's still smitten with
you, you know.  If you talk to her, she'll  listen."  I don't mean the
smitten comment as rude, and he smiles. 

"Yeah, you're right."  He kisses me again and a quiet giggle comes
from the doorway.  We turn and see  Shannon standing the doorway,
covering her mouth with her hand. 

"You're cute like that," she says.  Walter smiles and tilts his head.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people, you know," he says.  "You may see
this."  And he kisses me again.   She laughs out loud. 

"OK, enough kissing," I say, reluctantly.  "Time for decorating." 

"Wrong," Walter says.  "Time for eating.  Then we decorate." 

After food and ornaments and tinsel, and of course Taffy grabs a
string of garland and Shannon chases  her around the place, almost
making Walter plotz as  they run past the fireplace.  After a long
play time  and some chocolate milk, I get Shannon to wash up for the
night and put on her pajamas.  She lays  across my chest as I read
"Stuart Little" to her.  She's asleep before I end the first chapter.

I lay her beside her mother, who has moved a few times, but still
sleeps.  Her breathing is deep and  even.  When I go back to see to
the dogs, Walter has also fallen asleep in his chair.  I close up the
house  and coax my lover to bed.  He follows and falls back to sleep
in my arms, head on my shoulder.  He's  right.  It's very nice to hold
him. 

Anabelle and Shannon stay with us through the holidays,  helping
Walter cook while Shannon helps me  with the dogs.  It almost feels
like family, almost.  Anabelle blissfully sleeps most of the time, but
when  she's awake, she lets us  know she's there.  She does cut me a
break once.  As she's laying on the couch   one day, just before
Christmas, I was brushing Shannon's hair and braiding it
for her.  Anabelle looks  over and says, "So you're the one who's been
doing her hair like that.  You know, I'm getting to like it."   And
she goes back to her television show.  And we have her until after
Christmas. 

Christmas eve, we eat together quietly, with Walter's full seven
fishes dinner.  Anabelle asks us to bless  the meal, and we let her,
but Shannon rushes us through to get to the dessert.  She and I baked
pies, a  peach pie and a chocolate cream pie.  My first pies are well
received, and I find that this little girl is really  a good baker. 
She's going to make some man very happy. 

Christmas morning is a delight.  Walter and I had secretly gotten a
huge pile of gifts for Shannon,  wrapped and hid them in the shed. 
She never went in the  shed, knowing there were dangerous tools in 
there.  The joy on her face as she  opened dolls, games, books and
videos was almost as exciting as my  first Christmas with Walter.  We
were sorry to turn down the Center's invitation to help out this year,
but  they knew we had our own issues. 

Christmas dinner was another success.  Walter had roasted a turkey,
and we had pie left over from the  night before.  It was a good two
days.  Now to make it past the New Year.  We rang it in quietly, sadly
 turning down an invitation to  Patty's blowout at the Closet.  She
understands and blesses me for being so  generous. 

When the appointment with Dana finally rolls around, I keep Shannon
busy for the day at the movies.   We see the re-re-release of The
Little Mermaid, and she's on a swimming kick.  "I want to learn how to
 swim, Alex.  Do you know how?" 

"Yep, learned when I was a kid," I tell her at lunch afterward. 

"At the school?" she asks.  God, I wish I could tell her the truth. 
Maybe I should write it all down for her  and let her read it when
she's older. 

"Yeah, at my school.  They made sure we could swim and save lives when
we were younger than you  are.  It's helped me.  When the weather
warms up, we'll join the YMCA in Dale City and I'll teach you to 
swim."  She smiles and finishes her lunch.  Back at the cabin, there's
another story. 

Walter greets me at the door and says to Shannon, "Your mother is
laying down.   Can you go out back  and round the dogs up for me?" 
She looks up at him and nods, a little suspicious. 

Walter takes me out front and closes the front door.  We stand close
on the porch and he keeps his voice  very low.  "Dana examined her and
did a preliminary CAT scan.  There is what looks like a mass in the 
cerebrum on the right.  They performed an MRI next and it's going to
be read by a neurologist.   But  Dana saw a definite mass in
Anabelle's head.  She said it's brain tissue that's been slowly
mutating." 

I'm shocked.  A mass?  "Mutating into what?  She's..." 

"It looks like Anabelle has cancer.  A brain tumor that's probably
been slowly growing over the last year.   She's scheduled next week to
see a neurologist and after that, we may need to take her to an
oncologist  who specializes in this.  I may need to get her to
Bethesda for a few of those visits." 

Walter goes quiet then.  I know what he's thinking so I'll vocalize
it.  "We're  not telling the kid until we  have a diagnosis.  Then
we'll let her mom tell her." 

"That's what Anabelle said.  She told me a lot during all the waiting.
 She'd slept around a bit, did some  shady things, was taking street
stuff for the pain.  There are dealers that sell codeine, you know." 

"Yeah, I know." 

"Dana explained to us that a lot of the symptoms she's been
experiencing were explained by brain  masses.  The pain, the
dizziness, the fatigue, the tingling  in her arms and legs, the
changes in behavior.   Her mood swings.  She apologized to me for
coming onto you.  It just...she couldn't explain it." 

"It's OK.  I don't care anymore about that.  We'll just...take it one
day at a time, won't we?" 

We hug, tightly, and stay that way as Shannon comes around the house
with all three dogs trailing her.   She looks up at us and says, "Bad
news?  How sick?"   The smile is gone from her face.  Too damn smart.

Walter takes the dogs in and Shannon sits with me on the porch.  It's
cold out,  but we're both dressed  for it.  Shannon, as it turns out,
likes blue more than  she likes pink, so I've gotten her a baby blue
hat,  glove and scarf set.  My set, in hunter green, is the adult
version.  Target is a fun store, huh? 

She hugs me tight as I tell her as much as I can without scaring her. 
I try to  ease the end of it with,  "Bethesda has the best doctors in
the country.  We'll  get her the best help we can.  Until then, don't
let  her know you're worried.   Gotta be strong for her." 

"Yeah, I'm used to being a big girl for mama." 

She hugs me tighter.  This is not what I expected. 

*-*-*-* 

After we get back Dana's colleague's preliminary review, they ask her
to come to Bethesda.  I agree to  take her and the neurologist brings
his own oncologist.  Dana has some prepared friends.  They admit  her
to Bethesda and tell her she's prepping for a needle biopsy the next
day.  She forces me to go home,  which I'm happy to do.  I did not
want to spend the night in a hospital. 

At the cabin, I explained to Shannon what was going on, and she cried
herself to sleep in Alex's arms.   We fell asleep wrapped around each
other as well. 

In the morning, we took Shannon to Bethesda to see her mother when she
was out of recovery.   Anabelle had a big patch on her head where
they'd made their incision.  The oncologist's conclusion  wasn't very
good.  He sat with Anabelle  and I, while Alex took Shannon for a
walk. 

"The technology available to us today to cure illness is amazing, but
we're still very antiquated when it  comes to dealing with brain
illness.  Research is difficult to do, as well as experimentation. 
The brain is  such an tricky organ.  From my preliminary findings, and
the pathology report given to me while you  were still under, we are
dealing with astrocytoma.  It's a star-shaped cancer cell.  From the
placement,  and size of the mass, I don't think surgery is an option. 
It covers a large portion of the cerebrum on the  right side.  I would
remove a large portion of your brain along with it.  Chemotherapy
would poison you  to death, at this point." 

Anabelle made a sound between a whimper and a cry.  I took her hands. 
She would stay in the hospital  until the next day, then she would
have more appointments with the oncologists.  I didn't pay as much 
attention as I should.  All I kept thinking about was Alex, and how I
would react if I had lost him now, as  opposed to before I fell in
love with him. 

Shannon spent the visiting time with her mother curled up in bed. 
They watched  TV and Anabelle asked  us to get food for the three of
us, and she would drink the clear liquids, but it would be a meal
together.   "That's a great idea, Anabelle." 

That night, Alex and I made love quietly for a very long time.  We
didn't speak  at all, but our gazes  remained locked.  I came before
he did, but stayed inside him until I made him come, too.  We fell 
asleep still embraced.  Shannon was smart to get her own breakfast and
watch cartoons until we woke  up. 

The morning brought us a brand new Anabelle.  "Tell that doctor to
make sure I have enough pain  medication.  I was reading a book that
the nurse brought me.   Forget these damn doctors.  I'm gonna  rest
until it's over.  There's no way I'm survivin' and there's no way I'm
sufferin'.  Walter, you're gonna  call that lawyer of yours for me,
right?  I need to see him.  And then...well, hell,  I have a wedding
to  plan!" 

"Wait, what book?"  I was so confused.  She seemed so sure of herself.
 This was the Anabelle of old, the  woman who took charge of
everything.  Just like my mother. 

"Diary of a Condemned Mother.  It came out last year.  I thought it
wasn't worth my time.  But the nurse  thought it was something I would
like.  Well, she also knew she was dyin' and she didn't waste any
time.   She got off her ass and got her shit together.  Well, it
helped to extend her life a month or so.  And she  died peacefully. 
That's what I want." 

"No!" Shannon screamed.  She'd listened very quietly and heard all she
wanted to hear.  She crawled into  her mothers arms and cried.  Alex
and I decided to leave them alone.  He slipped his arms around me  and
held me tightly as we both shed our own tears.  We both went to the
men's room to wash our faces  and  relieve ourselves.  When we were
done, Shannon was asleep and Anabelle was dressed in the fresh 
clothes we'd brought her. 

"If ya'll could drive me to my house, I'd appreciate it.  We got a lot
to talk about." 

We listen and we have no choice but to go along with it.  She's going
to give custody of Shannon to us,  and Shannon doesn't care.  She
cries most of the time, sitting in Anabelle's lap.  Alex thinks he'll
take her  for a walk with the dogs to calm her when he gets a chance. 
When Anabelle gets home, the first  thing  she does is call her
mother.  "Mama, it's me, pick up the damn phone.  No?  Fine, then. 
I'm dyin'.  Yes,  Mama, I'm talking like a hillbilly and I'm
tellin' you that I have cancer.  That's why I can't work, and I  have
no money.  All my money went to pain drugs..." 

I'm assuming that her mother picks up the phone at this point.  "What?
 Oh, Mama, calm down.  Lord  have mercy, like it's a surprise.  You
always told me that I was trash, and that I wouldn't amount to 
anything.  Well, I'll never get the chance to see if you were right."

Silence while she listens. 

"No, sorry, she doesn't want to be with you....No, I don't have to ask
her, I know.  I'll have my doctor  send you the paperwork...No, don't
you dare come here.  I'm speaking to a lawyer tomorrow.  Don't  come
to my house.  Mother!" 

Anabelle sighs.  "My mother is on her way here.  I hate that.  Anyway,
boys, we  have work to do." 

It's like a whirlwind.  Bruce listens to Anabelle and has one of his
associates  draw up the papers.   Anabelle spends lots of time on the
phone, ordering our wedding items.  You'd be surprised how much  you
can do over the computer and telephone.  Digital photos and telephones
work wonders.  Dana stops  by several  times to see how Anabelle was
doing.  In between the bouts of energy and her long naps after  taking
medicine, Dana notices that Anabelle's pupils are two different sizes.
 Her left pupil has stopped  constricting completely.  And her 
left hand shakes most of the time. 

She had gotten me to take her to the Manor to show the decorators
where to put what for the reception.   The cake was butter crme with a
chocolate ganache between the layers of butter-whipped cake.  I taste 
it and think it's was fabulous.  The way Anabelle and I are talking
and spending time, you'd have thought  I was a flaming bottom.  We go
with dark red American roses as the flower of choice.  We even agree 
that plain tuxedos are the choice. 

Alex and I lay in bed one night in early February, after making love
in a rare empty house and we discuss  what we'll do for Valentine's
Day.  "I think it would be cute if we took our girls out to dinner,"
Alex  suggests. 

I smile.  "I think that's a great idea.  We'll take them to Carmello's
and then  to the Closet.  If we only  stay there a little while, Patty
won't mind." 

"I think you're right.  Oh, hey, have you told William he's your best
man?"  He  nuzzles his nose into my  armpit to tickle me. 

"Yes, he was thrilled.  His father took him to his fitting the other
day.   He's excited.  How's Shannon  doing?"  I kiss his neck loudly.

"Apparently she hates everything Anabelle has picked for her.  I may
have to take her myself for  something.  She wants to wear baby blue. 
Her mother wants  her to wear pink." 

"You take her and get her whatever she wants.  When she walks in with
William, I want her to feel  beautiful.  Anabelle thinks she doesn't
feel so beautiful since you've gotten her to carry all those books 
around." 

We both laugh at that.  "She loves to read.  She loves the library. 
She can sit with me for hours in the  park, on the grass, and we'll
just read.  She's happy.  She wants to go to Katya's school next year.
 They  have an advanced curriculum she wants to try.  I want to send
her there." 

"Then she goes."  I kiss him.  "Now, we sleep." 

He curls up against me with a kiss on my neck and we sleep. 

Valentine's Day is a hit, apparently.  Both our girls wear red for us,
matching  their heart-shaped boxes of  chocolate.  Dinner is a great
success as well as dancing.  Both Walter and I end up carrying our
charges  to their beds.  And we  make love ourselves at home. 

During March, I start to really worry about Anabelle.  She's slurring
her words  and drops things  sometimes.  Some days, she's right on the
money.  We work around the days where the pain is blinding.   Dana has
prescribed ten milligrams of Percocet for her bad days.  She usually
sleeps after one of those  pills.  The woman who was a beautiful,
curvy vixen has wasted away in just two months into a Kate Moss 
impersonator.  When she feels good enough to get out of bed, she pads
around the house in pajamas. 

She insists I sleep at her house the night before wedding, and Shannon
will stay with Alex at the cabin.   The rehearsal dinner is as
sedateas I thought it  would be.  Katya makes a lovely toast to us
both, and her  pastor blesses us and the family.  Mulder and Dana are
just amazing looking together.  Finally, Dana has  actually conceived
another baby.  She is six months along and glowing  like firefly.  The
Gunmen also  show, as we'd hoped.  Byers and Langly are very 
dapper looking.  Byers actually gets him to wear a suit,  and he looks
very handsome.  They're waiting to hear on an adoption of a boy who
had been orphaned  in the war in Pakistan.  Hopefully, they will be
parents soon. 

John Doggett and Monica Reyes-Doggett are in attendance and both are
happy.  They left the children  home.  Jimmy and Yves are there
without their girls.  Patty, Shaine, Mikey and Gerry are there, with
both  Jason and Heather, but that's fine with us.  Heather is a good
baby and usually sleeps.  There are so   many people here, I stop
counting after a while, and just sit with my fiance, kiss him when
people bang  their glasses, and danced when they played a song I
liked. 

Before the night is over, Mike Elliot stops me and we go outside to
have a brandy together and talk. 

"I known you a while, Walter.  A good while longer than I known Alex. 
But I know this.  You love that  man.  And he loves you.  And ya'll
will be very happy.  You already are.  Shame 'bout Anabelle.  She
tells  me ya'll have a legal agreement to keep the child.  That's
good.  Her mama used to live 'round here.   She's hell on wheels.  You
just keep her out of your lives." 

"We're going to do what Shannon wants.  If she wants to see her
grandmother, or  live with her, that's  her decision.  Whatever
Shannon wants." 

"You're a good man, Walter Skinner."  He shakes my hand and pulls me
into a hug.  It's almost like  getting the blessing from my father. 
And he's only a year or so older than I am.  He goes in, letting my 
lover out to see me.  He's  got Shannon in his arms with Anabelle
following behind. 

"I'm going home, Vlad, taking the baby with me.  I'll see you
tomorrow?"  His smile is the most adorable  I've ever seen. 

"You betcha.  Trinity Episcopalian Church on Center Street.  I'll be
the one in  the tux on the right side of  the church." 

"Good, see ya there." 

He gets into the Hummer and drives away.  Anabelle puts her hand on my
arm and I walk her to the  Range Rover.  Back at the house, I can see
just how much stress the night has put on her.  She looks  tired and
old.  In her room, I bring her a cup of tea and a few cookies before
she takes her last pill of the   day.  As she progresses, Dana
prescribes more and more medicine for her, half of it I don't even
know  what it is.  I sit on the side and take a deep breath. 

"What's wrong, Walter?  Are you nervous about tomorrow?" she asks,
trying to keep her eyes open. 

"A little.  I guess every groom is." 

"I'm sure both of you are.  Just remember this: that man withstood all
the hate  I sent to you and stayed.   He loves you more than anything.
 And yes, he told me about the ultimatum he gave you.  I don't believe
 it for a moment that he'd  choose my girl over you.  I also knew,
you'd never make him.  You like her,  enough to tolerate her to keep
your man.  My, Alex is one lucky man.  I hate to  tell you, I wished
it was  me.  Still do." 

I give her a little smile.  I should feel terrible that I never even
kissed her.  "Anabelle, why didn't you ever  ask me to kiss you?"  I
have to know. 

"Walter!  A lady never asks for such things.  A gentleman must offer
his kiss.   Only ladies of questionable  virtue ask to be kissed. 
Teach my daughter that.   I know I did a good job of trotting men
through here  when I was lonely.  I should have just sewn my knees
together." 

I have to laugh at her joke.  She's still charming.  I take her cup
and plate and put them on the bedside  table and help her slide down
under the covers.  Before turning off the light, I look down at her
and  smile.  "May I kiss you goodnight?" 

"Of course you may," she says sweetly and turns her head.  I take her
chin and tenderly turn her face  back.  She isn't prepared for my lips
to come down on hers as I kiss her honestly.  I remember that I'm 
kissing a woman and am gentle with her.  She understands and opens her
mouth to my probing tongue,  kissing me back.  Her small, soft hand
alights on my cheek as we end the kiss and touch our foreheads 
together.  The backs of her fingers ghost over my chin 
and she says, "Alexander Valery Krycek is the  luckiest motherfucker
in the world.  You must leave me now.  Or I may force you to finish
what you've  started.  And I know you don't want to kill me the night
before your wedding.  For I would surely die  tonight if you made love
to me.  Go!" 

I take the cup and plate, turn out her lights and leave her to sleep. 
Settling  on the couch, I'm glad to  myself that I finally kissed her.
 Something good needs to finally happen for her. 

*-*-*-* 

When the alarm goes off at six, Shannon jumps up from the bed.  I
allowed her to sleep beside me, and  the dogs have all joined us. 
It's a family thing.  It's also a flurry of activity.  We let dogs out
and feed  them.  Then we eat breakfast and clean up.  I shower first,
shave and start to dress.  Then Shannon has  to have a perfumed bubble
bath.  Then takes her time washing her hair.  And of course, I have to
blow  dry it for her then put curlers in it.  Fuck, I'm not that kind
of fag! 

Her instructions are good though and we get her hair done just as she
likes it,  with some of it pulled up  and curls draping all around.  I
put the blue ribbon  around the top of the ponytail like she asks and
she's  done.  She helps me with my tie and cufflinks and cummerbund
and we finally get the dogs and put their  clothes on.  Yes, they will
be at the wedding.  Taffy and Honey wear ribbons around their necks
matching  her dress in baby blue and we found that dog tux collar for
Bosco.  Walter will just love that. 

We drive down to the church, where we're snagged by the photographer. 
He takes  pictures of us in an  alcove area with the dogs and without.
 Then one of just Shannon.  Then a few of just me.  Anabelle  comes
out and leads me to the room by the left side of the church.  Katya is
there and hugs me and  kisses my cheek.  "You look so good, Valery. 
Mama would be proud."  I think she means her adoptive  mother, not
ours. 

The opening strings of Vivaldi's Concerto for Lute in D Major, second
movement,  begins.  I can hear the  giggles as the dogs walk down the
aisle, leading William and Shannon who are holding hands.  William 
has my ring in his pocket,  and Shannon has Walter's in her little
blue purse.  As our cue comes, I open  the door and see Walter walking
towards me.  He looks incredible in a tux that matches mine.  We both 
have red rose buds in our lapels.  I meet him at the center aisle and
we hold hands to walk toward the  altar. 

I ignore most of the ceremony trying not to cry.  At one point, I see
Anabelle handing something to  Shannon, then she was pressing it into
my hand.  A hankie.  I use it to dab the tears from my eyes.  I  can't
help it.  This is the most important moment of my life so far. 

"I, Alexander Valery Krycek, take thee, Walter Sergei Skinner, to be
my husband  in holy matrimony, to  love, honor and cherish, for better
or worse, for richer  or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as
we  both shall live." 

"I, Walter Sergei Skinner, take thee, Alexander Valery Krycek, to be
my husband  in holy matrimony, to  love, honor and cherish, for better
or worse, for richer  or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as
we  both shall live." 

Oh, that almost makes me weep like a bitch.  I feel Shannon tapping
me, handing  me the ring to slip on  Walter's hand.  Anabelle picked
out the most lovely platinum bands, plain but polished.  Walter holds
out  his left hand but I take  his right and whisper in Russian, "This
is our way."  He slips my ring onto my   right hand as well.  The
pastor says, "By the powers vested in me by God, and the Commonwealth
of  Virginia, I now pronounce you married.  You may kiss each
other." 

I look at Walter and let out a ragged breath.  We move in and kiss,
gentle and simple.  I always thought  it was bad taste to French in
church.  We turn toward each other and hold both our hands.  The
pastor  finishes the ceremony and we walk out of the church together. 
Walter pulls me to him and kisses me  again.  "Now you're *my* old
man!"  We laugh heartily at that. 

The limo waits as we hug and kiss the attendants, shake hands, then
start posing for pictures.  I hate  pictures, really hate them.  I
can't argue, though, about recording this occasion.  I never want to
forget  how happy I am to be in the arms of my husband.  The limo
takes us to the reception hall, and we let  our guests enjoy cocktails
while we pose for more pictures with family and friends.  Shannon and
William  steal the show by posing once with the dogs on the rich blue
carpet, smiling.  Then William just reaches  over and turns
her head and kisses her.  Thankfully, cameras start popping and I know
there is  digital  video running. 

"William!  Stop that!" Scully shouts, scaring the kids.  Mulder is
laughing like a mental patient.  It's kinda  prophetic that they
should like each other.  Maybe it's just in the cards. 

The reception begins as people get seated and we are introduced and
proceed in.  We sit and begin  eating, both Walter and I at the center
table, enjoying appetizers, salad, prime rib and baked potatoes.  
When it comes time to start the first dance, Walter and I walk out and
they start playing "Everything I  Do, I Do It For You" by Bryan Adams.
 They remembered our song from Halloween and the engagement  party. 
We hold each other tight and glide about the floor,  pausing to kiss
from time to time and soon, all  the couples are out with us. 
I lets go and grab our girls, me holding Shannon off her feet at his
eye-level   and Walter gently leads Anabelle.  Walter eyes me, and we
switch. 

Dancing with Anabelle is nice.  She's light on her feet, and quick
with cues.  She looks up and me and  says, "He kissed me goodbye last
night.  The only time  he ever kissed me.  You're a very lucky man,
Alex  Krycek.  He loves you so very much." 

(Continued in part 5)
 
Part 5
See part 0 for story information.


"Thank you.  He cares for you, too.  Thank you for trusting us." 

"Thank you for forgiving me."  I have no words for her.  So I lean
down, and kiss her.  Probably not as  spectacular as Walter, but a
full mouth kiss.  Walter stops us says, "Hey, lady, get your own
husband,  this one is mine!" 

I'd like to say we partied for hours, were so drunk we had a
pants-optional number and finally Walter and  I fucked until the sun
rose.  I'd like to say that, but I can't.  We dance a few more numbers
and I see  Anabelle getting tired.  Shannon revolves around her like a
moon.  Walter and I cut the cake, smearing it  on each other's faces. 
It means we can laugh at each other and still love each other, despite
 embarrassment.  I'm never embarrassed in front of him any more. 
Especially not since I hosed his ass  out for him.  We don't
have a bouquet or garter to throw, so we settle on tossing condoms and
flavored  lube packets to the crowd, which is a hit with Patty and
Shaine.  I must send them a vibrator. 

About eleven that night, Katya assures me that she will stay with the
girls while we're "honeymooning".   That consists of Walter and I
alone all weekend at the cabin, no visitors, no phone calls.  The limo
takes  us there so we can't even have a vehicle to get away.  We'll
get them back at a later time, we're told. 

And it is a lovely weekend.  We take turns telling our fantasies, the
secret ones, like I want him to do a  real strip show and wiggle his
dick for me.  He wants me to cook breakfast naked so he can plow me 
across the table while smearing me with food and feeding me.  These
are things we won't be able to do   once we have Shannon full time. 
So we play all weekend, scaring the hell out of the dogs, but having 
fun nonetheless. 

When we return to reality, we find that Anabelle has taken to her bed.
 It seemed like she was hanging  on for the wedding.  She's doing a
valiant job.  She lays in bed and there's the faint odor of urine. 
She  must be fighting for  continence. 

Before the month is over, she pulls me aside and says, "All I want is
to make it to Mother's Day, Alex.  If  ya'll can help me do that, I
will go quietly.  I  hurt all the time, now.  I can barely see some
days.  Keep  her busy, would you?" 

I do just that.  We plan day trips for Shannon, keeping her out of the
house, but the kid isn't fooled.  She  cries in my arms when she can't
handle it any more.  I hold her as long as I can.  Sometimes she falls
 asleep.   Sometimes she tears off down the street and runs until she
collapses on a lawn where she cries  until she's exhausted.  She
allows me to carry her home and put her to bed after that. 

Mother's Day comes bittersweet.  We cook a fabulous meal for Anabelle,
serve it  in bed for her, but she's  beyond eating.  She would just
rather spend the day listening to the television, as her eyesight is
almost  totally gone.  Walter has taken to keeping her in adult
diapers and changing her like a child.  Scully  comes once a week and
sees her, but we all know it's just a matter of time. 

I talk to Shannon's teacher and we agree to pull her out of classes
early and I'll home school her for the  remainder of the year.  She
only has a little to go.  Anabelle indicates I should take her to the
cabin to  finish her work, so I do, leaving Walter to care for her. 

Shannon likes to reading in the grass by the cabin well, learning all
she needs  to know.  She finishes her  work in a few days, amazing me
since she had almost  a month to go.  We sit in the sun one late May 
afternoon and a butterfly floats over and lands on her bended knee. 

"What is it, Alex?" she asks.  We've seen plenty of Monarchs, but this
is black  with blue and red spots  and splotches. 

"It's called an Ursula.  It's a very rare butterfly for this area, but
they're common in North America.  They  almost never come this high."

"Ursula. I like that name.  Can I have a cat named Ursula?"  She
smiles at me like her mom used to when  she wanted something. Oh shit,
what have we done? 

That night, Shannon can't sleep.  Well, she can't fall asleep.  She
gets up for  water.  Then the bathroom.   Then she comes to my door
and knocks.  "Alex, can I sleep with you?  I'm cold." 

She's right.  It's cold in here tonight.  I briefly think of lighting
a fire.  She gets into bed with me and lays  there for a while.  I
start drifting off when I hear her say, "No.  No, don't!  Noooooo!" 

She jumps up and runs out, throwing the front door open, setting off
the alarm.  I follow, killing the  alarm and watch her.  She's
standing in the front yard looking at the sky.  All the strength I've 
maintained for her goes as soon as she shouts, "Don't go!  Please,
Mama, don't go!  Don't leave me!   Mama!" 

I can't take it.  I can't handle hearing her crying and screaming at
the sky.  I go to her and hold her.  We  both sit on the porch and
cry.  Anabelle has gone. 

*-*-*-* 

I sit and wait for the ambulance to come.  The phone rings.  It's
Alex.  "She's  gone, isn't she?" 

"Yeah, a little while ago.  She wanted me to tell Shannon to mind us. 
And she loves her." 

"Kid knew.  Ran out into the yard and screamed at the sky.  I just got
her to calm down.  What are we  gonna do?"  He sounds so sad, nose
stuffed as if he was crying as well. 

"She and I made plans this week, earlier.  It's all taken care of. 
The funeral  home knows she doesn't  want a wake, just the funeral. 
She has a plot.  It will be in two days, enough time for Shannon to be
 calm.  Keep her up there, I'll call tomorrow.  I love you, Sasha." 

"I love you, Vlad.  See you soon." 

He hangs up and I wait.  Traveling behind the ambulance, I just feel
numb.  I sign her over to the  funeral home and leave, returning to
her house.  That's when I finally break down and cry, let it all out. 
 I can only imagine what Alex is going through with Shannon. 

True to his word, in two days, Alex brings Shannon to the house.  I
have the place cleaned, the soiled  mattress gone by then.  Alex
brings me my black suit  and tie, and he's dressed the same.  Shannon
has a  black dress for funerals, her mother thought of everything.  We
both help her, as she's almost limp.   She's exhausted from crying. 

She surprises us as she starts up crying again when the funeral
starts.  Alex holds her, but an older  woman, I assume Anabelle's
mother since the voice is the same from when I called her, comes over
and  says, "Shannon, dear, be a lady.  Stop this noisemaking." 

"Fuck off, lady.  Leave my kid alone." 

The woman walks away, sniffing at the air.  It's an omen for what's to
come, I know it.  Dr. Watson has  the nerve to try and offer his
condolences to us.  Alex walks away completely.  I can't help but say
to  him, "You have a lot of nerve showing your face here.  You should
leave before you upset that little girl  more.  And you're making me
angry.  You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."  He is smart and leaves
the  building quickly. 

Alex holds Shannon in the car to the burial and then to the Ramsey's
place, who  agreed to hold the  reception afterwards.  Shannon is
exhausted and sleeps in Alex's arms in Mr. Ramsey's old easy chair. 
If  he tries to put her down she wakes up and cries.  He looks up at
me and says, "Let's get her home." 

We take our daughter home and lay her in her bed.  It's still the
futon in the den, but it's hers until we  figure out what we'll do
from here.  She doesn't wake up while Alex undresses her to her
underwear,  then puts pajamas on her.  Taffy and Honey get on the bed
with her.  She sleeps on. 

We fall into bed after that, into each other's arms, not to make love
but to feel each other's bodies.  To  just touch.  He holds me as we
both cry again.  It's been a rough time for everyone.  "Vlad?  I need
to  say something terrible." 

"Go ahead." 

"I'm glad it's over. That's she's gone.  Not that I hated her.  Toward
the end,  I liked her.  This was  just..." 

"Me too, Sasha.  And she was happy to go.  She was tired.  We're all
tired.  Scully was telling me she's  starting a foundation for women's
health care.  She's appalled that that...bastard ignored her symptoms,
 didn't refer her to another doctor when he thought things were less
than professional.  It's criminal what  he did." 

"Let it go, Vlad.  He'll get his, eventually." 

He nestles against me and we go to sleep. 

*-*-*-* 

I hope the sedative I slipped into Walter's water before we went to
bed is still working.  I drive stealthily  down the mountain, dressed
for work.  My old work.  I know that little weasel.  I watched him
when I  could, all the while Anabelle deteriorated.  He works late on
Thursday nights.  I find him in his office, the  clinic is empty, and
I have my chance. 

The lock all but falls apart until my quick instruments.  There's no
sound as I  slip down the hall and lock  the outer office door behind
me.  His office door is partially open.  He's looking out the window
at the  thick woods behind the clinic and sipping from a glass.  The
bottle of Jack Daniels on his desk is half  empty.  Time to give him
his. 

I spin his chair around, startling him and his glass goes flying. 
"Wha...thu...fu..." 

I haul him out of the chair by his shirt and throw him across the
desk.  "Feel Belle'd yet?" 

"Hey...look I..."  My right fist across his face shuts him up.  The
blood trickles from his mouth.  I drag  him up off the floor and into
his chair. 

"Look nothing.  You left a little girl without her mother to make you
feel important.  That is unacceptable.   You will pack up your sad
little self and you will never practice medicine again.  If you do,
I'll find you  and I'll take care of you.  If you tell anyone about me
coming in here, I'll kill you and hide the body on  my mountain.  All
I better hear about you doing is pushing a broom somewhere.  You got
me?" 

"Wait...Alexxx..." 

Again, hit his face.  I hit him a few times, the flesh pliant under my
gloved knuckles.  I feel a bone snap,  maybe his cheek.  This is
catharsis of my old life.  My daughter deserves this.  "You will leave
tomorrow.   And never look back.  Repeat, please." 

"I'll...leave and...and...never come back." 

I toss him onto the floor before I go, one last kick in his ribs and
unlock my way back out.  The bloody  clothing I'm wearing go into a
plastic bag in the back of the Hummer.  I parked it behind the clinic
so I'm  not worried about someone watching me undress in the middle of
the parking lot.  Driving a black jeep is  a good thing with the
lights out and almost no streetlights.  I stop by the landfill and
toss the plastic bag  over the fence.  Just another bag of
garbage in the immense piles. 

Back at home, I check on Shannon, who's asleep, Taffy and Honey around
her.  Walter is still the same  spot I left him, Bosco near his feet. 
I settle in and put my arm around his waist. 

"How hard did you hit him?" he asks quietly.  I'm not surprised he's
awake.  I guess I didn't use enough. 

"Hard enough not to kill him, like he deserved.  He's leaving, though.
 He had it coming, Vlad.  I had  to..."  I'm interrupted by his mouth
covering mine.  He gently shushes me and says, "Go to sleep, Sasha.  
We have a big day ahead of us, tomorrow." 

"I love you, Vlad." 

"I love you, Sasha." 

The End 
Happy Birthday, Aunt Ursula




### The End ###