Walter Skinner Ties One On
Pairing: Krycek/Skinner (Mulder on their mind and in their hearts)
Slash, belated discipline in a minor key...
Credit to Emily for the stray rat thoughts and the list for an almost
naked AD.
Disclaimer: The naked truth is that I don't own them. CC, Fox TV, and
1013 are the lucky devils who own first right to torment them.
A stocking foot swung gently over the side of Walter's couch. A
bottle of house Chianti rested by the side of the red stained remains
of a bowl of pasta.
Rule number one: never feed a stray rat.
Rule Number Two: if you do, never let them in from the balcony.
Rule Number Three, if you do let them in from the balcony, never let
them sleep in your bed.
Rule Number Four, if you do let them sleep in your bed, never let
them give you a blow job.
Rule Number five, forget first four rules. Blowjob is mind blowing.
In short, Walter had given into the dark side of the force. Alex
visited him whenever he pleased, walking in with his plush ass
twitching the tail you didn't quite see. Voice purring as he reviewed
the lovely, lusty things he planned to do to your body.
And now with Mulder abducted, it seemed that Alex was always around,
looking soulful and sad, disgorging the store of partial truths,
mysterious clues, and signs and wonders he had discovered since the
last time.
"That pasta was for my dinner, Alex," Walter scolded.
"I put some veal in the oven and I made a big salad. This was just
cleaning the fridge so there'd be room for leftovers," Alex said.
Sniffing the air, Walter promptly noticed the subtle invitation
painting the air from the direction of the kitchen. He dragged off
his tie and tossed it in the direction of his desk. Sitting in his
favorite chair, he slumped, head low, frowns creasing his forehead.
Alex snapped out of his studied indolence and carried the dishes in
the kitchen. Walter heard the sound of the sink running, the oven
door opening and then shutting, and the clink of glasses. Alex came
back with a few marinated vegetables, a few bites of cheese, and a
glass of the wine. Placing the appetizers on the end table, Alex
said, "There, you nibble on those and I'll rub your feet. You tell
Alex all about it."
Good as his word, Alex untied Walter's shoes and slipped off his
socks. A tube of unscented lotion came from somewhere...the man was
like a magician popping his bag of tricks out of a hat. Walter took a
few bites and a large mouthful of the red house wine. Alex should
have been a masseuse instead of an assassin as he would have been a
good one.
Letting his body relax for the first time today, Walter was very glad
of the perversity of the Gods that had sent Alex to him. You had to
forgive a man anything that could about make you come just from
rubbing your feet.
"So what happened today? Fouled up reports? Audit? What?" Alex asked.
He never asked about the real business of Walter's life; hell he
probably could have filled Walter's day planner for him. But he
maintained the façade of keeping boundaries between them, nothing but
lover's secrets shared in their bed.
"Kersh," Walter replied sadly. "Apparently, Doggett's report
mentioned that I wasn't wearing a suit and tie when I joined him on
that last investigation. Kersh called me into his office and chewed
me out as if I was a green agent. The bastard yelled, "I don't want
to ever hear of you on a case not wearing a tie again!"
Sighing, Walter said, "What the hell is the use? I'd have better luck
finding Mulder with your help rather than dealing one more minute
with that ass hole. Alex, I'm going to resign."
"Right," Alex remarked, his brow lifted in an elfin or devilish slant.
"No, I'm serious. Let Scully and Doggett try it their way. You and I
would make a great team, Alex. You probably know that when I set out
to be devious, I am very successful and I don't get caught," Walter
said. He sat up, sliding his feet from Alex's lap.
"Well, a man's got to do what a man's got to do," Alex said,
attempting to run his curious muddled accent into a passable John
Wayne. A devilish smile flitted across Alex's face. "So he said, he
never wanted to see you not wearing a tie?"
Walter nodded. Alex said, "And he didn't mention any other garment.
Dare ya, Walter."
With a grunt that might be the first hint of madness, Walter
asked, "What do I get if I take your dare?"
"Oh, nothing that you haven't had before," Alex said, leaning back on
his knees, mysteriously beautiful face tilting as his lips parted in
sweet invitation. He seemed to glow and Walter was mesmerized all
over again.
Laughter bubbled up as Walter considered Alex's suggestion. He was
going to do it.
And so it was on the next morning, Walter Skinner emerged from a
limo, driven by a nattily dressed chauffeur who presented a security
pass that was unimpeachable to the guard. He wore a tie, not one of
his own conservative issues, but Mulder's largest most flamboyant
Salvador Dali collectable. He carried his brief case as usual as he
marched straight through to the scheduled meeting with Kersch.
No one stopped him. This was Assistant Director Walter Skinner after
all. Besides, not every FBI agent was impervious to manly charms. In
fact, a hushed parade of women followed, joined by a surprising
number of smitten males. All of this was staunchly ignored by the AD,
who was still followed by his new chauffeur and by lovely Kim, whose
cheeks were as red as her hair, but whose eyes sparkled with
gratification of one of her fondest desire.
The parade stopped at the door of Kersch's private meeting room.
Walter went in and walked directly to Kersch's chair. He said, "I'm
wearing a tie, sir. Just exactly what you ordered."
Kersh's eyes went down and he shifted in his chair, his lesser, much
lesser glories not willing to be compared with the monarch of their
kind. "Skinner, you are as crazy as...as..."
The chauffeur smiled in a smarmy way and offered, "Agent Mulder?"
"Yes, thank you, Agent Mulder," Kersh said, taking another look at
the chauffeur who seemed vaguely familiar.
Smiling serenely, Walter dropped his resignation on Kersh's desk and
said, "Kiss my ass, Kersh."
The chauffeur laughed and said, "Oh, don't do that, Kersh. Only
Mulder and I have that privilege."
A cascade of lights greeted them. Kim Manners stood holding a camera
in each hand. The admiring crowds shoved to get the best angle for a
shot as Walter posed in the doorway, slowly peeling off Mulder's tie
and whipping it around exactly in the classic manner of a strip tease
artist.
"Home, James," Walter said; "We have work to do."
So, you ask, where is the mandatory spanking?
One week after Mulder is found, when our brave boys finally got out
of bed for a few minutes, Scully marched in, yanking Doggett on a
choke collar, which was attached to a body part that was hidden
beneath his partially zipped fly.
Scully carried a paddle almost the size of her head, but the way she
swung it suggested that she knew how to use it. She threw a packet of
paperwork at Walter and another at Alex. "Your reinstatement orders,
Walter. Yours too, Alex."
"How?" Walter asked, noticing how Mulder and Alex backed up against
the wall AND covered their behinds with their hands.
"Pictures," Scully said, whipping out a gruesome portfolio. Kersh in
diapers, being changed by the Smoking man. Kersh being spanked by a
huge alien clone. Kersh watching every episode of Survivor and
drooling over Hatch. "I blackmailed him."
"Where did you get them?" Walter asked.
Dolefully, Doggett sniffed and said in a trembling voice, "Langly
hacked them out of Kersh's computer. She...she made me sleep with
him! He thought I was coming onto to him when I said something about
not wearing pants. I was just trying to be helpful. Some days, when I
reform my body from molten metal, I forget to dress myself. You know
how it is."
Mulder was taking notes, muttering, "I knew it. I knew it. They're
everywhere."
Alex said, "All three of us in that little office? Scully..."
A test smack on Scully's palm evoked a swift change to sweet young
agent Scully. Alex said, "How do you take your coffee in the
morning?"
Scully nodded as she took firm step toward Walter. "Now, Walter, you
have been a naughty boy. Leave me to deal directly with Kersh's
bullshit? Pull that stunt on a day when I was out on a medical
appointment? If Kim hadn't got me copies of the pictures, it would go
harder on you, Walter. Now, just bend over that couch...
The AD's end