From: Pyrephox18 <pyrephox18@aol.com>
Date: 15 Jun 1998 08:19:10 GMT
Subject: Just Lucky, I Guess (Murphey) 1/3

Rating: NC-17 (You can stop cheering now, Red... :P)
Disclaimer: Anyone you recognize from TV is 1013's. Even if they don't take
very good care of them sometimes.
Keywords: Skinner/Other, Angst
Archive: Yes, yes, a thousand times YES!
Summary: *sigh* I dunno. I really, really hate these things.
Author's Note: First, thanks to everyone who kept up the pressure for me
to keep working on this series! Second, consider yourself warned: the
relationship takes a step forward here, *but* this isn't as lighthearted
as the previous stories. I hope it will be the *only* angst story in the
Murphey series, but I'm making no promises. It's the only way they seemed
to want to connect. BTW, this story is fifth in a series. You *should*
read one of the other stories before this one! You can find them at the
Gossamer and SIS sites. They are: A Bump in the Night, As Luck Would Have
It, Burying the Hatchet, and One of Those Days...
	
*********************
					Just Lucky, I Guess

	"We need to talk." Skinner swung about, leaving his key dangling
in the lock .  Serendipity Murphey regarded him steadily, her steel-gray
eyes unblinking. She stood on the threshold of her apartment, her stance
an open challenge. She must have popped out the moment he'd begun to open
his door. Which meant she must have been waiting. Not, he decided, a good
sign. 

	"What about, Agent Murphey?" He purposely lowered his voice,
making it a harsh rasp that would have sent any sensible person running
for cover. Unfortunately for him, Serendipity wasn't feeling the least bit
sensible at the moment. 

"You know 'what about', Walter," She said it lightly, his first name a
deliberate counter to his formality. 

	"I believe you're mistaken, Agent Murphey. Now, if you don't
mind...?" He made a move back toward the door. He had to get out of this
situation now, before it got any worse... 

	"Actually, I *do* mind." He winced. Never mind. "Listen, Walter...
if you can tell me, honestly, that you are perfectly fine, then I'll leave
you alone.  Otherwise, we need to talk."

	"Murphey, I assure you, if I *was* having problems, which I'm not,
you would be the very last person I would choose to confide in." he
growled, intentionally striking to hurt, so that he could seek the safety
of his apartment. Serendipity had to fight back a upward twitch of her
lips. At least insults hinted at something other than indifference, and
anything other than indifference was a good sign. She chose her next words
carefully, hoping that she was right about this, and about him. 

"Well, then. Maybe I should just leave you to your brooding?" She cast a
significant glance toward the plain brown bag in his left hand, "Or were
you planning a party?" 

	"I am not brooding!" he snapped, his eyes darkening with
annoyance.  Serendipity found herself torn between three conflicting
emotions: compassion, anger, and a rather inappropriate desire. She was
not here to seduce the man, after all. Even if he did look simply
scrumptious in the scruffy black T-shirt and tight fitting jeans. She
dragged her mind onto more immediate matters, pressing home her advantage
and moving a quick step closer to him. 

"Really? Then what the hell do you call it? You're not exactly a jolly guy
at the best of times, but don't you think that reducing two grown men to
tears in the space of three weeks is pushing it a little, even for you?
For God's sake, the last one wasn't even in your division!"

	"You know nothing about the situation Agent Murphey!" His voice
didn't rise in response to hers, instead it became softer, the deadly
softness of a viper about to strike. She heard the threat, but couldn't
afford to stop. She had to press forward, risking the tentative bond she
held with Walter in order to bring him back from whatever dark place he'd
retreated to. Others had already tried the honey, now it was time for the
vinegar.

"I know the situation. Agent Jamison committed a minor violation..." It
was the wrong, or maybe the right, thing to say. He turned on her in blind
fury, and the rage and pain she saw in his eyes made her take an
involuntary step back. 

	"That *minor* violation nearly got himself and his partner killed!
He's damn lucky I didn't fire his incompetent ass on the spot! I was doing
my job, Agent Murphey. I was protecting the agents under my command. If
you have a problem with that, I suggest you..." Serendipity interrupted
him gently, placing her hand on one of his tightly clenched fists.

	"It wasn't your fault, Walter. It wasn't Jamison's, it wasn't even
Richardson's. You cannot take responsibility for Richardson's death
forever, sir." 

	Walter closed his eyes against the grief and rage that swirled
within him. He was there again, hearing the bust of gunfire, the screams
over the microphone. Mobilizing the rest of the team as his mind chanted,
"Too late, too late, again," Richardson's body, and that of his partner,
bloody wrecks on the warehouse floor. He'd known that the new agent was a
little too eager, a little too cocky. But he'd had the skills they'd
needed for the operation, and he'd gone against his gut. And now two of
his agents were dead.

	"I knew. Dammit, it didn't have to happen. If I'd just..." He
shrugged his shoulders helplessly. He knew he was being irrational, but...
he could have stopped it. If he'd just put Richardson where he could have
kept an eye on him, two of his people would still be alive today.

	Serendipity could almost hear his thoughts. A part of her wished
she could find Richardson and kill him again, for being so damn stupid,
and for putting someone she... cared for through so much pain. Instead,
she silently stepped closer to him, sliding her hands up to his arms. She
looked up at him, wanting desperately to comfort, but not knowing if the
fragile relationship they shared would allow him to accept. Gray eyes met
turbulent brown, and for a moment she could almost feel the tension within
him freeze on a knife's edge of indecision. Then his arms came about her,
and he clasped her to him as if she were a life raft, an he a drowning
man. She felt him tremble with the force of his grief, and although he
made no sound, a few warm tears slid down her shoulder blades. She simply
held him closer, feeling tears of her own well up and overflow. They stood
like that for an endless moment, taking and receiving the warmth of
another living person. 

	Reluctantly, Walter pulled away. He sighed. The grief was still
there, but it was a manageable thing, painful, but endurable. Serendipity
raised her head, her eyes as red and wet as his. It almost frightened him,
how much he had enjoyed that simple human contact. It had been a long
time. Even in his marriage, in the last year or two, he and Sharon had
barely spoken, much less held each other and shared grief. Another thing
that was mostly his fault. She would have tried, if he'd ever let her
behind the walls his work had made him build. 

	"You're doing it again." Startled, he glanced down. Serendipity
was looking at him, her lips almost curved into a smile. 

"What?" 

	"Blaming yourself for something that probably isn't your fault."
He smiled without humor. 

"That time it actually was..." he rubbed a hand over the bridge of his
nose wearily, "Maybe this time was too." He saw her mouth open, and placed
one tanned finger on her lips. It silenced her instantly. "*But*, you're
right.  Nothing will be solved by alienating the rest of the agents." He
paused, "Was Jamison really crying?" Serendipity nodded, fighting the urge
to draw his finger between her lips. I will *not* seduce my superior when
he's down, I will *not* seduce my superior when he's down, she chanted
silently. It wasn't really working, she could feel the warmth of him
against her lips, and minute movements of his finger sent delightful
shivers across her skin. Slowly, she pulled her head back, regretfully
breaking the contact.

	"Walter, why don't you come in for some coffee, or some tea?" As
soon as the words were out of her mouth, she winced. She sounded like her
grandmother, trying to fix all ills with a hot drink and a kiss. Her gaze
rose involuntarily to his firm, sensuous lips. Maybe this wasn't such a
great idea... 

	"All right. I wasn't really looking forward to my plans for the
evening, anyway." Walter smiled self-depreciatingly and indicated the bag.
Serendipity retreated to her apartment, and waved him inside. She could
almost hear the nails being nailed in her coffin. So why was she looking
forward to it? 

*********** 
Cont. in pt. 2

Other stuff in part 1.
**************
        Walter entered the apartment, looking around with interest. The
one previous glimpse he'd received had been rather...hurried. There was a
large, overstuffed dark-blue couch sitting across from a dusty, new model
TV. The carpet, like his own, was the standard cream, but here and there
Serendipity had placed blue and green throw rugs. A couple of framed Dali
prints hung on the walls, with 'The Persistence of Memory' getting the
place of honor over the television. The end tables beside the sofa were
stacked haphazardly with books and magazines, and a few had begun the
conquest of the sofa. He had expected more silver, or yellow in her
decorations, but nevertheless they seemed to fit her remarkably well. 

	Serendipity watched him as he surveyed her living room. She caught
the quirk of his eyebrow when he saw the Dalis, and the half smile he gave
at the mess on the couch. He filled the space with his presence without
even trying, as if it was right for him to be there. Wishful thinking,
Murphey, she chided herself.  The man's just here to get some free java
and a little peace. Not a little *piece*, got it? He's upset, he's feeling
guilty, he's... falling!? 

	Walter swayed and stumbled, his eyes closing, the bag falling from
his relaxing fingers. She rushed to close the space between them, but her
efforts to support him only succeeded in dumping them both on the couch,
with her body sprawled atop his. They looked at each other, frozen in the
conflicting signals mind and body were sending. As they fell, Walter's
hand had automatically tried to steady her waist, and now it rested at the
smooth curve of her hip. The other was trapped somewhat lower. Suddenly,
Walter didn't feel at all tired.  Trying to dissolve the tension before it
reached critical mass, he quipped, "This is familiar. Why do we always end
up falling down together?" Serendipity smiled weakly, pretending to ignore
the five-alarm fire that was sweeping her body. 

	"Sheer dumb luck. Happens all the time. At least you weren't
wearing your glasses this time." Walter stared at her. Her eyes had turned
pure silver with arousal, an arousal he shared. He could feel the last
vestiges of control slipping away, and he gave in gladly. 

"I left them in the glove compartment. I must have known I would see you."
She swallowed. His hand was moving, slowly tracing the outline of her
waist and hip. She shivered, sparks of pleasure traveling from head to
toe. Her involuntary movement settled her more firmly on his body, and she
could feel his arousal nestle firmly at the apex of her thighs. Her
nipples rubbed against his chest, and began to harden; their sweet ache
joining the other sensations that were rioting through her flesh. She
tried to raise herself onto her arms, meeting his dark eyes. 

	 "We shouldn't do this. We really, really shouldn't." He smiled. 

"I know." The hand found the edge of her blouse and crept under it. She
groaned as he caressed her bare skin, his feather light touches only
teasing the aroused surface. I will *not* take advantage of this moment of
weakness, he's feeling a perfectly natural response...Walter slid his hand
under the waistband of her slacks, electing a gasp and a whimper. A
perfectly *natural* response to released grief, one he'll regret in the
morning. All, she told herself, I have to do is stand up, that's all.

	Then he kissed her. 

Other stuff in part one.          

****************
             He captured her lips with his own, nibbling lightly until she
welcomed him in. Serendipity's good intentions flew out of the window.
With a sigh of surrender, she kissed him back, and let her hands roam
freely across the cloth-shrouded surface of his chest. She groaned against
his lips, this time in frustration, as her attempts to maneuver were
repeatedly blocked by the confines of the couch. Walter chuckled huskily,

	"Bed?" 

"Bed."  They rolled off the couch, holding on to each other's hand. It
felt as if there was a current between them, an energy that sizzled along
nerve endings and heightened each sensation to unbearable intensity.
Serendipity never remembered how they made it to the bedroom. They were
simply there, touching each other, teasing each other. Walter pulled his
T-shirt over his head, revealing his muscular chest as slowly as possible.
She swept her hands over the bronzed skin, reveling in the feel of the
sparse hair sliding through her fingers. She spread tiny kisses all over,
starting from the edge of his collarbone, across his broad shoulders, down
to his nipples, around his belly button, to where his jeans cut off her
access to his skin. 

	She growled greedily, and licked her lips, savoring the taste of
him. But it wasn't enough, not yet. She wanted all of him. Her hands moved
down to his fly, but Walter caught them with his own, and drew her up to
face him. His eyes were nearly black with hunger as he whispered,

	"My turn." He began unbuttoning her blouse, taking the time to
stroke each new slice of skin revealed before moving on to the next
button. It was a delicious madness. His breath came faster as he undid the
last button and she shrugged the blouse to the floor. A few seconds later,
her bra joined the other clothing on the floor. He cupped her small, firm
breasts in his hands, brushing the sensitized nipples with his thumbs.
When that elected a sigh of pleasure, he bent and began to flick his
tongue over the very tips of her nipples. He alternated between them,
gradually taking each one farther into his mouth. His large hands ran down
her back, and danced around the waistband of her slacks.  He undid the
buttons quickly, and the slacks fell in a puddle of cream fabric.  He
invaded her panties with one finger, moving it slowly downward. Her hands
kneaded his shoulders as her hips began to buck slightly. Finally he slid
the underwear down off her hips and she stepped out of it, molding herself
to his body. Her hands sought the fly of his jeans, and unzipped them
quickly. The bulge in his white briefs radiated a heat she could feel
answered in her own body. 

	"Walter, I need...oh god, I need you," She whispered as she freed
his sex from its prison. They moved to the bed, soothing and arousing each
other with urgent hands and softly spoken words. They paused for a moment
as Serendipity found the small box in her nightstand drawer, and slid the
latex sheath slowly over his erection. He rolled her beneath him,
murmuring her name as he entered her.  They moved together in an ancient
rhythm, thrust and counterthrust, a rapidly increasing tempo of the sound
of flesh meeting flesh and sounds of pleasure.  Walter felt Serendipity
spasm beneath him, heard her cry out his name as she reached the summit.
As her most secret muscles fluttered around him, he, too, was lost to his
shattering climax. 

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

	BRRRRRRIIIIINNNNNGGGG! Serendipity groaned, batting wildly for the
alarm clock, before realizing it was the phone making the horrifying
racket. She snatched the receiver just as a deep, masculine groan emanated
for the lump of blankets beside her. She brought the receiver up to her
lips and hissed,

	"Unless you're calling about *lots* of money, go away!" There was
a moment of shocked silence on the other end. 

	"Serendipity Murphey! Is that any way to talk to your mother?" 
******************