By Sergeeva [Nov.2000]

~ For my dearest friend Xanthe, on her birthday. May you find your own Walter, sweetie ~

Rating: NC-17

Category: SRA (oodles of R and only tiny bits of the nicest sort of A for Walter).

Warning: Contains both graphic m/m and m/f and a tiny bit of m/m/f.

Summary: At Xanthe's request (she has the greatest ideas!) an eventful day for our beloved AD, as his two lovers conspire to waylay him for erotic purposes, in the most unsuitable places!

Spoilers: SR819

Disclaimer: Skinner, Mulder and Scully are not mine. They sprang from the imagination of Chris Carter, have been given wonderful life by Mitch Pileggi, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, and remain theirs, and the commercial property of 1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No infringement is intended, quite the opposite. I can only say thank you.

Archiving: Yes, but please leave my header attached.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

J. Edgar Hoover Building

The pool - 6.42 am (Walter)

Walter had been diligently swimming laps for quarter of an hour now and still couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. There were three other swimmers using the pool, but somehow he knew it wasn't any of them. Oh sure, Carly Backus had batted her eyelashes in his direction when he'd walked out of the men's locker room, but Walter could sense her hungry gaze as something quite separate from whatever else it was that had him so jumpy... Determined not to be distracted from his exercise, he lowered his head and focussed on his stroke, shifting at the turn from a butterfly to a fast crawl.

Yeah, there was someone there, someone sitting on the poolside nearest him, someone just studying him. When he finished the length he paused, hooking one arm up onto the tiles, narrowing his eyes to compensate for the lack of his glasses. He hated to wear goggles. Sharon had given him some prescription ones once but he hardly wore them, preferring the soft focus of his myopia, easing into the day one sense at a time.

He didn't join in the competitive backchat of the other early morning frequenters of the pool and gym. It fitted his reputation as an unapproachable, solitary man, but that wasn't the reason he kept himself to himself. Over the last year or two he'd been feeling his age more, watching for signs of fading stamina, of muscles that would no longer do all that he asked of them. When he swam, or lifted weights or used the punch bag, he concentrated on his body's reactions, always gratified when he could still move smoothly and still had the power to work himself hard. Since he'd had the threat of the nanocytes hanging over his head, he knew that he could no longer take his own health and strength for granted. It was a chilling thought and he needed the reassurance of these introspective early morning workouts.

That and the incredible ego-boost of having two insatiable lovers.

If anything could reassure him that he still had what it took, it was the look in Fox and Dana's eyes when they pounced on him, as they frequently did, and had their wicked way with him. Like Clouseau and his Cato, Walter had to be prepared for an assault at any time, once he'd walked in the door of the spacious house the three of them now shared. Armloads of groceries, baskets of laundry, even paint-spattered overalls were no protection against the lustful energies of his gleeful partners. They'd insinuated themselves into his work, then into his heart, then into his bed and his home and he was powerless to resist their wiles. Thank goodness they kept their games for home, and respected his authority (well, more or less) at the office.

He told himself that he must look younger than he felt, because he couldn't imagine what the two of them could find appealing in his 50-yr-old body, but he kept himself fit at least as much so he wouldn't let them down, as for his own pride. Mulder and Scully would probably be the death of him, one way or another, but at least he'd die happy. Well - at least he stood a better chance of that these days. The shadow of Alex Krycek and his damn nanocytes was always hovering but between them, Fox, Dana and he were grabbing what life and hope and pleasure they could. For a second Walter had wondered if the person he'd glimpsed on the poolside wasn't his nemesis. He swept a hand over his face, clearing the water from his eyes, and scanned the area. No one there now, yet he was sure he'd seen a man there earlier...

He completed his laps and managed to forget about Krycek. Mulder and Scully were due back from the conference on Inter-Agency Taskforce Liaison this morning, and though he might not see either of them until tonight, he knew they would all be together then for the evening. It was the sort of domesticity he'd rarely enjoyed, even during his years of marriage. Nowadays he valued a life outside work too much to treat it lightly. He worked at making time for life, and for love. He'd surprised himself with how good he was at both of them. Grinning stupidly, he hauled himself out of the water and headed for the showers, humming.

Someone had angled the showerhead up towards the ceiling. Sighing tolerantly, his good mood still holding, Walter reached up first one, then both arms, trying to manipulate the nozzle back down before he turned on the water. Suddenly, both his wrists were grabbed from above and handcuffed to the water pipe over his head. A tousled, dripping head grinned down at him from over the partition with the next stall.

"Mulder, is that you? What the..."

The head disappeared, and then he felt a sleek, lean body pressed up against his back. Long fingers were already tugging at the waistband of his swim trunks.

"Mulder!" he hissed, looking wildly around to see if they were observed. His hands shackled above him, he couldn't do much more than twist his head.

"Hush, Walter, there's no-one here but us. I could invite Ms. Backus to join us, if you like... I reckon she'd break the Olympic sprint record for the chance to see you like this..." and he dragged Walter's wet trunks down to his ankles, following them down to lift Walter's big bare feet out of them.

"Miss me, Big Guy?" Possessive hands sliding all over Walter's body - shoulders, armpits, chest, belly. Halting when they found the solid weight of his genitals, arms circling from behind to lift, stroke and fondle. Wet hair and warm lips against the side of his face, kissing his ears and the back of his neck. "I think so... missed me a lot, I'd say. I know I missed you Walter..." Wicked seduction in that voice, melting his resistance, his cock hardening so fast he felt dizzy with the rush of blood.

"Foxxx... we can't, not here... ohhh yeahhh..." his protest was half-hearted. Not a hope of resisting, as those knowing hands worked him, tugging hard on his balls, lifting him back hard against hardness. Mulder's left hand was slicked with something, kneading his ass cheeks, one long finger aiming right for his core, probing at the tight ring of his anus. Mulder's right hand was buried between his thighs, palming his aching balls, massaging lower and father back, reaching for that same tight opening. Rising on the balls of his feet, Walter let his lover's hands possess him, handling him with rough, demanding passion, squeezing him, lifting him, tilting his pelvis back against the jut of a long hard erection. His own cock strained upward, swollen with need, neglected as yet. Shreds of good sense fought a losing battle with the reckless joy of the moment. Any words of protest or caution that he might have offered died on his lips, swept away by groans and sighs of pure longing.

"Oh god, Fox... that's so... uunnggh... good!"

"My pleasssure, Walter." Almost purred in his ear. "Can you grab the pipe, lift up just a fraction more... ahhh, yeah, that's... perfect!"

His hands clutched at the chrome water-pipe overhead, desperately trying not to think about security cameras and public exposure, because who the hell could think when Fox's long hard cock was pushing sweetly in, when Fox's long gentle fingers were spreading and stroking...

"Oh how I've missed this, Walter," Mulder's hand finally wrapped around Walter's cock, toying with him, prolonging the bliss with slow caresses. "I was thinking about what I wanted to do to you all the way back on the plane," finger and thumb pinching lightly, wicked touch against the vein, "I didn't even stop to drop off my bag," warm slicked palm rubbed over the crown. "Came straight here from the airport," too slow, too soft, too sweet...

"Aaahhh, Fox - will you just shut up and fuck me!"

"You got it, Big Guy. Hold on tight..."

And suddenly it wasn't soft and slow any longer, but hard and fast and wonderful. The handcuffs clanked against the metal pipe, their wet feet squeaked against the tiles, the grunts of need and passion shockingly loud in the echoing shower room. Mulder's strong legs pushed against him, rocking his hips forward, ramming his erection into Mulder's fist.

"Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh." Unmistakable sound of fucking. No gasped endearments, just shared need. Mulder uncurled one hand from Walter's hip and braced it against the wall, changing the angle of penetration minutely, gloriously. Walter had no leverage to thrust back against the faultless heat and power filling him, but Mulder seemed to understand. One hard tug, up and back, and the fire ran through him loosing a shout of release and his semen shooting three feet up in front of them.

For a second, Walter stayed arched in ecstasy, then sagged against his restraints, as his heart rate recovered. His knees felt wobbly, his stomach and thigh muscles still quivering. Still buried inside him, still hard, Mulder held on.

"Ss...ssorry, Fox, cc...ccouldn't wait..." Walter's voice a husky whisper - all he could manage.

"'S okay, I wanted you watch you come." Leaning in close, chest pressed against Walter's back Mulder started to move inside him again. One arm entwined alongside Walter's over their heads, the other kneading the muscles of Walter's chest and stomach, Mulder fucked him slowly, luxuriously.

So melted and sated, Walter couldn't even tell if his feet were still on the ground. His limbs felt heavy and warm as if he'd run a long race. Mulder's stretching heat inside him, the kisses on his neck and shoulders, the slightly rough palm crossing his belly were like anchors to his spinning senses. He let himself be rocked, passive until Mulder's teeth sank gently into his shoulder. His ass muscles clenched instinctively, the long lean body went rigid against him, and with a sigh, Mulder let go, flooding out heat.

"Wal..ter..., " the stutter was so erotic, "...love you so much..."

His voice wouldn't co-operate. All he could do was rub his cheek against the dark head lolling against him. Knew he was getting old when Mulder unfastened the cuffs and he slid down to the floor, weak as a kitten. Mulder rubbed the circulation back into his arms and shoulders, reached up and righted the angle of the shower head. The pipe had a definite dip in it now.

Grinning smugly, Mulder turned the water on, warm rain splashing down on him. He knew he must be looking fuck-stupid from Mulder's fond expression.

"Better wash up now, sir. Section Heads meeting in half an hour." Blew him a kiss, the brazen idiot.

Finally Walter remembered how to use his vocal cords: "Mulder, how did you know which shower stall I'd choose?"

Mulder's smug grin intensified. "I didn't. I moved all the showerheads."

Walter just had to chuckle. " I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Medical Lab #2 - 10.22am (Scully)

He should have gotten the "official" memo by now. Time for the doctor to make a call. Scully patted the pockets of her white coat - perhaps it was a little over the top, but every prop helps. She checked the rest of her props: latex gloves, syringe, cotton swab, surgical spirit. Okay, Operation BB was ready to enter phase two... Smiling a smile that would have set all Walter's alarm bells ringing if he could have witnessed it, she picked up the phone.

"Yes sir, all the executive staff. Yes sir, it was a surprise to me too. I just got the memo when I got back this morning. Yes, sir - I appreciate that it is interrupting your busy schedule... If I may, sir..." She held the phone a little way from her ear while the AD growled about ridiculous health-scares and having more important things to do than get a flu jab, even if the Director himself did order it. "I realise how busy you are, so I could come up and do it right now, sir. Yes, in your office - it won't take a minute." More growling, then a gruff agreement." Scully's grin grew even wider.

He was taking off his suit coat when Kim showed her into his office. A dazzling white shirt stretched across the acres of his broad shoulders. Scully drank in the sight, happily. He was unfastening his cuff as she snapped on the latex.

"Okay, Scully, let's get this done. I have a budgetary report to prepare." He started rolling up his sleeve and Scully let him, her gaze lingering appreciatively on his big hands and strong forearms. Time to break it to him...

"Um, sir, I'm afraid I can't give you the shot in your arm. If you'll just drop your pants and lie on the couch over there, I'll make it as painless as I can."

He looked at her defiantly for a moment. "You're sure this is absolutely necessary?"

"Yes, sir. Express orders of the Director. Apparently far too many hours were lost to flu amongst the executive levels last year, so unless you've already had a jab, sir...?" She knew he hadn't because she'd checked his medical records herself. Walter wasn't a man to allow illness any foothold in his life, and he didn't believe in wasting his physician's time getting medication for something that hadn't happened yet. He'd defy any flu bug to lay him low. Scully remembered how he'd refused a local anaesthetic the last time she'd had to stitch him. Silly, adorable macho-man! She watched him trying to come up with a way out of his current predicament.

"Well, no - I haven't, but surely..."

"No buts except your butt, naked, now... sir." She put on her best "the doctor knows best" expression, frowning sternly to disguise the giggle that was threatening to burst forth. She was still amazed what she could get away with as far as Walter was concerned. She and Mulder. This man who could reduce seasoned agents to quivering wrecks with a look was putty in the hands of his lovers. Well, almost. He still hadn't moved, so she merely cocked an eyebrow in the direction of the couch, folded her arms and waited. Walter's jaw worked for a few seconds then he sighed and began to unbuckle his belt.

Scully made a great play of smoothing the latex gloves and laying out her equipment on the lamp table next to the black leather couch. Her attention was wholly on her patient, though, as he removed and carefully folded his navy wool pants and stretched out on his stomach, long tanned legs overhanging the end of the couch.

"Well I can't do it through these..." she lifted his shirt-tail and plucked at his white briefs, fighting another attack of the giggles. The poor man looked as if he was facing the tortures of the Spanish Inquisition. Big softie. "Just lift up for me - there we are." With a brisk tug, the snug cotton briefs were pulled down, revealing a perfect taut muscled ass. Paler gold skin across his buttocks, the tan-line from their trip to St. Croix still visible. Next year they were going to work on that all-over tan... She realised she'd been staring at his naked bottom for a suspiciously long time. Briskly, she took out a sterile swab and moistened it with surgical spirit.

"This will feel a little cold." She swiped the cotton across the lovely smooth curve. The medicinal tang of the alcohol blended with the warm scent of Walter. Scully swapped the swab for the syringe and double-checked the dosage, cleared the air from the needle. "And now a sharp prick..." Choosing her spot judiciously, on the opposite cheek to the one she'd swabbed (unadulterated Walter tasted a lot better than surgical spirit), she laid aside the unwanted syringe and bit down softly into the luscious flesh. Her patient responded with a rather startled yelp.

"There now, nothing to it," she chirped brightly. "And a little massage of the muscle will relieve any residual pain..." She stripped off the latex and stroked her hand over his warm skin. Was he buying it?

"That didn't feel like any injection I've ever had before... are you sure you..." Oops.

"Quite sure. You trust me, don't you, sir?" Artful innocence in every syllable. Lovingly, her small hand worked Walter's firm flesh, then she bent and placed a kiss on the imaginary needle mark.

"Agent Scully?" Walter was trying to sound outraged, but it came out too soft to be effective. He wasn't sure quite what had happened but he also wasn't trying too hard to object. She merely kissed him again on the same spot, then on the other cheek, then on the small of his back, nuzzling his shirt up out of the way. Her hands kept up a firm massage of both buttocks, but she leaned further and further over him, pinning him down. Her breasts pushed against his back, she rocked her hips against the rise of his ass, knowing the effect she was having.

"Scully, I really don't think we... " She could tell his heart wasn't in the weak protest. Like she'd said, the man was putty.

"Oh I think we should, sir, take your mind off that nasty jab... " Her hands slid under him, between warm smooth leather and hot silky skin. Down his stomach to the unmistakable evidence of just how ready for distraction Walter was. "Roll over, Walter". She sat back to let him move, watching the play of muscles as he levered himself up and flipped over onto his back. His ears were bright pink and his eyes wonderfully dark. Scully licked her lips slowly, leaned over and slid Walter's white shirt up, baring his flat belly and the beautiful cock rising from its nest of brown curls.

"You know, I actually forget how gorgeous you are, as if my memory can't believe anyone could be so beautiful... a week without seeing this is too long." She enjoyed seeing the blush rise over Walter's scalp, and even more, she enjoyed seeing his eyes get even wider as she unbuttoned her white coat - the only garment she was wearing.

"Dana!" He was breathless already. Darling Walter, not a man of many words, but his enraptured look said everything she needed to know. Holding his dumbfounded gaze, she carefully straddled him, pushing her hands up under his shirt, finding his nipples, bending low to kiss them.

"Shush, Walter, we're alone and the door's locked."

"It is?" He looked wildly in the direction of Kimberly and the outer office, rightly suspecting a conspiracy.

"Mmm-hmm..." Scully had unbuttoned his shirt now, and pushed it aside, the better to suckle at his lovely chest. "Just think of this as post-treatment therapy - you can do that, can't you, Walter?" She didn't get much of a coherent reply, but then she was stroking her groin over the hardening length of him all the while, so she didn't really expect one. Tantalisingly, she undulated her hips, teasing herself as much as Walter, because she loved the anticipation of that moment when she would slide down onto his hot steel. Apparently, the waiting was too much for Walter. He lifted his big hands to her breasts, stilling her rocking. The heat of his palms and the dark fire in his eyes made Dana shiver, her nipples hardening against his touch. Gently, he flexed his fingers, cupping her softness, thumbing the erect rosy tips.

"I shouldn't let you do this to me, not here," he murmured, "but I can't resist you..."

"I know it." She beamed down at him. His hands moved down to curve around her hips as he lifted her onto him.

Oh it was sweet - her slickness silking him inside, inch by wonderful inch, hard and heavy and filling her so perfectly... All of him was big and strong and supple, his hands supporting her, his beautiful body between her thighs, his hot cock tight inside her. Dana let her head tip back, knowing Walter's steady hands would hold her up. Slipping the last inch down, hearing his low moan of pleasure as her weight settled on him. She loved the feel of his velvety balls right up against her, of the smooth skin of his hips against the inside of her thighs. Her head tipped forward now, the soft wings of her hair brushing his chest as she bent low to kiss him on the mouth - her tongue slipping into him as he slid in and out of her. She rode him lightly, letting his strength set the pace, letting his loving fingers work her with such intuition, such intimate care, so that they found their climax together.

She lay over him, her panting breaths matching his thudding heart. Pushing tousled hair out of her eyes, she looked at her lover. Eyes closed, a silly smile on his handsome face, Walter looked ready to sleep for a week.

"Have I worn you out, Big Boy?" she teased.

"Oh yeah. You and Mulder both. I'm good for nothing now..."

"Who says? You have a little nap now and I'll have Kim hold your calls." She rolled off the couch and trotted into Walter's executive bathroom. Hair tidied and white coat primly buttoned up again, no one would ever guess what she'd been up to, she thought. Tenderly she cleaned Walter up with a warm damp washcloth, and dried him with a fluffy hand towel. Kissed his sleepy cock and pushed him over onto his side.

"Let me just check the 'injection' site - yes, it's fine. You were a brave boy, Walter."

He opened one eye to look at her sternly. Somehow the AD look didn't quite come off with his shirt up round his armpits and his tighty-whities round his ankles. "Just don't give that kind of post-treatment therapy to all the others," he warned.

"All what others?" It was out before she realised her slip.

"Dana, you little...!" She fled, letting out the giggle at long last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An elevator - 12.08pm (Mulder)

The doors closed on the corridors of the 4^th floor and the elevator began its sedate downward journey. Mulder brushed a hand through his unruly hair, and checked out his fellow occupants. Good: Lambert was in Analysis on 3, and always took late lunch, Renz was engrossed in what looked like some phone records and had forgotten that he was due on the 5^th floor 2 minutes ago. Mulder grinned at his inside knowledge of the boring men in suits, who were the backbone of HQ. He pressed the button for 3. The bell pinged, Lambert waited for Mulder, who was nearer the door, to exit, and when he didn't, stepped past him, frowning. Renz still hadn't surfaced from his printout. The doors started closing again. Mulder punched the button once more and coughed loudly. Renz looked up at last.

"Aren't you due in AD Pasco's briefing about now, Pete?"

"What? Oh...um, yeah. What floor are we...?"

"3, Pete. You wanna go back up to 5?"

"No, I won't hold you up..." The nervous mousy man hurried out onto the 3^rd floor and headed for the stairwell at a trot. The elevator started on its way again. Mulder almost rubbed his hands in satisfaction, until he noticed the remaining occupant of the elevator giving him a faintly wary look. Oh yes, Walter, be afraid, be very afraid...

Walter Skinner also had his arms laden with work files. Leaning against the back rail of the car, he'd been absorbed in a case report until Mulder's conversation had disturbed his concentration. Which was exactly what Mulder had intended, of course. Now that dark, brooding gaze was fixed on him and it was having the effect that Walter's gaze always had on him: his skin was prickling, his senses were sparking, his heart-rate was increasing and his... well, better just say that certain parts of his anatomy were waking up very nicely. He grinned with what he hoped was boyish charm at Walter, and loosened his tie a little.

"Heading for the cafeteria, sir? Gotta keep your strength up." The only response was a slight arch of one dark eyebrow. Maybe he needed to work on the boyish charm a little... Skinner looked back down at his file. Mulder glanced up at the floor indicator; he had to get things moving. "Warm, isn't it?" Loosened his tie a lot more. "Yes, really very warm..." Slid his tie off completely, running the smooth silk through his hands. Look up, sir, look at me. He took a step forward, at the same time slamming his hand on the emergency stop button behind him. The lurch made Skinner look up - suspicious now.

"Mulder? Why have we stopped?"

Mulder took one long stride, bringing him right up against Walter's chest. Oh yeah, he had his attention now. "Because, sir," took the buff file folder from Walter's hands and dropped it to the carpet. "It seems as if there has been," had the silk tie looped around Walter's wrists in a nanosecond, then knotted around the steel handrail bisecting the beige wall. "An unforeseen change to your lunch plans, Walter." Stepped back, heart really thudding now, half astonished at his own temerity, half in anticipation of the next few minutes. He was counting on the lunch hour to give them a bit of leeway before someone alerted maintenance to one stalled elevator out of the many. For what he had in mind, he only needed a few minutes.

His eyes raked down the gorgeous length of Walter's immaculately suited body detecting unerringly the signs he was looking for. Pupils dilated, that muscle in the tight jaw twitching, and - ah yes - a definite stirring behind the zipper of those conservative pants. Walter knew what game they were playing. Mulder could see the oh-so-proper-AD struggling with the inner sensualist, with the passionate lover that Mulder could never get enough of. He sank gracefully to his knees in front of shiny black shoes. Walter's head rolled back against the wall, banging lightly as if in resignation at being suckered again.

"Suckered and sucked," Mulder murmured with relish.

"What?" came from above him, but he was busy with narrow leather belt, zipper and shirttail.

"You heard me, Walter. And don't tell me you want me to stop, 'cause I won't believe you..." Inside the open fly, palm rubbing against the stretched cotton, something soft, warm, hot, hard wanting to be let loose...

"No, god forgive, me, I don't want you to stop..." almost hissed, when his fingers moved on, under the cotton to burning silk-skinned hardness. Caressing his quarry, uncurling the beast carefully through the opening of the still buttoned pants, stroking out the mouth-watering length into the charged air of the elevator. "I was hoping you didn't. Hoping you'd see the force of my, um, argument..." He loved the taste of Walter, the warm salty skin, smelling of soap and clean sweat and faintly of the starch from his shirt, and just now, something... fresh, floral... Scully. Mulder grinned to himself fondly and licked.

"What... uhhh... argument was that? I must have... aaahhh... missed it..." Mulder could feel the hard stomach clenching against his cheek as Walter fought to breathe evenly. Wrapped his arm more firmly around the lean hips and deep-throated his lover. One hard suck and he pulled back wickedly, letting the air-conditioned cool hit the saliva-slicked hot flesh.

"Shiiitt, Mulder, I get it, I'm not arguing, okay?"

"You're not?" Mulder swiped his tongue along the length of his own palm, watching Walter's eyes open even wider - shining pools of helpless desire. Oh I'm so good, he thought. And you're so worth it. "Well, I'm glad to hear it." And because he wasn't really a sadist and this was his idea after all, he wrapped his moistened hand around that exultant cock, pumping it upward, while his mouth dipped lower to nuzzle within the folds of dark wool, suckling at Walter's balls through his briefs.

"Mmmnn...mmm...mmm..." With Walter's hands safely restrained he could go at his own pace, using his mobile lips to chase the fat vein up the underside, nibble at the ripe head, slurp up a drop of moisture from the tip, alternating a full-fist clasp with a deep swallow until Walter was weak-kneed and begging.

"Have mercy, Fox, pleeeasse..."

So he did. Looked up at Walter, glassy-eyed, flushed, utterly adorable. Curled his tongue just... so, tightened his lips just... there and it was all over. The big man slumped against the wall while Mulder licked him clean and tucked him back into his pants. Kissed him softly, with meaning, got pulled back in for one of Walter's specials, so intense it felt like his brain was being sucked out with his breath.

After that, it took him almost as long as they'd been stalled to reclaim his tie, find a brain cell to tell him how the elevator buttons worked and control a dazzling, lopsided, beatific grin before the doors opened onto the cafeteria level. He didn't look back to see if Walter had followed him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Women's Restroom, 4^th floor - 3.12pm (Scully)

Dana Scully hitched up her perfectly proper dove grey skirt and admired the lavender garter belt and matching silk panties. Walter loved her in lavender.

Once, on a mellow evening, when the three of them had drunk rather a lot of very good Shiraz, and she was modelling a new iridescent lilac chemise, he'd told her that it made her eyes look like amethysts. He'd blushed then, thinking he'd embarrassed her with his poetic words but Dana had been more pleased than she'd let on. Mulder was the sweetest, most caring man, but he used compliments like charades - either tossing them out so obscurely you missed them altogether, or investing them with a wildly dramatic performance to hide his fear of seeming sentimental. Walter, on the other hand, really was a man of few words, but once in a while, he would surprise and delight one with softly spoken stanzas or gruffly murmured heartfelt words that revealed his romantic soul. Then he would look so earnest and sincere and almost surprised at himself - it was enchanting.

Scully dragged her thoughts back to the present, modestly smoothing down her skirt again, and smiling a little knowing smile. Lavender silk for Walter's sake; madly expensive, but then she was madly in love with a beautiful, sexy man who was her boss and her lover and her partner's lover and who deserved the very best. Call it folie d'amour. She took out her cell phone and tapped in a particular number for the second time that day. Phases 4 and 5 of Operation BB were going to up the pace a little - in the nicest possible way.

"Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you, but there's a situation in the 4^th floor east restroom...

"Yes, sir, a woman. No, very specific...

"Well, sir: AD Cassidy is unavailable and it's you she's demanding to see, sir...

"I know, sir. Very inconvenient. No sir, I think if you could just come down... thank you, sir."

Hmm... that sounded pretty good, she complimented herself. A little tense, a hint of crisis, just enough respectful sympathy... Oh Walter, you won't know what's hit you!

She put the next few minutes to good use - mussing up her hair fetchingly, pinching a spot of pink into each of her cheeks, pulling one side of her blouse out of her waistband. Looking in the mirror she decided yes, that was just the effect she wanted: the brave federal agent fresh from trying to calm a wild and demanding madwoman, a little flustered but feisty. Not quite her usual style, maybe, but it was for a good cause. Ah, here he came...

She exited the restroom, her slight breathlessness perfectly genuine when faced with the awesome figure of the AD, long legs striding towards her, rugged face set in lean, stern lines.

"Agent Scully. What's the situation now?"

"She insists on... meeting with you, sir. She has a weapon, the room is secured, no other personnel are involved."

"She's Bureau? One of my agents?" Gorgeous frown, those dark brows drawn together.

"Yes she's... yours. She says she won't use the weapon if you'll just go inside." At least, not the weapon you think I mean, sir.

"How do you read her? Is she rational, can we trust that statement, do you think?" It's almost a shame this isn't for real - he's so hot when he goes all Field Commander.

"Well in my view sir, she has some problem that she feels only you can deal with. I don't think she wants to use the weapon." No, just her regular female arsenal of pheromones, flirtation and flattering lingerie...

"Okay. I'll have to go in, then. Um... Scully, there's no-one, um... no other, er, females in there?" Aww, adorable! He's such a gentleman.

"No sir. You're not going to walk in on anything you shouldn't see." Something you don't expect, but something you definitely should see... Come to Dana, baby!

Skinner shouldered the door open and slid noiselessly inside. Dana, following on his heels, was able to take him completely by surprise: one judicious shove in the small of the back and they were both inside the large disabled stall, the door locked behind them.

"Scully..." He turned, already suspecting his fourth trap of the day. Dana just looked up at him with sparkling eyes and walked him back up against the wall, putting a warning finger to her lips.

"You are not to speak, Walter. I'm in charge now." Her voice was a soft murmur, but even so it brooked no argument, and she felt a triumphant joy when this towering, potent man looked totally taken aback. After a second, he closed his open mouth and nodded, meekly. In her head Dana gave Mulder a high five. Fox had been so sure that Walter longed to be taken charge of and it seemed he'd been right.

"Good boy, Walter." She put one hand in the middle of his chest, holding him still by sheer force of personality. Of course, he could probably flex any one of those scrumptious muscles and send her flying, but she knew he never would. He wanted this as much as she did. "Very good. Now we need to be very quiet, so no matter what I do, you will not cry out." Oh he was too easy - those huge brown eyes watching her with flattering awe... "You will want to, but you mustn't." Soft gasp of arousal/apprehension - if he knew what it was doing to her... "Nod if you understand, Walter." Oh the sweetheart!

Her 5ft 3inches should have put her at a disadvantage before his 6ft 2, but instead it put her at the perfect height to open his suit coat and kiss his chest - through the beautifully laundered cotton of his shirt. Her mouth left terracotta lip-prints over each pectoral, and a rosebud pout-mark over each nipple. She suckled him at a leisurely, ladylike pace, leaving a small wet circle on each side. When he forgot his submission and lifted a hand to caress her, she simply held his wrists at his sides and carried on. From over her head choked gasps punctuated the soft sounds of her kisses.

"You are allowed to breathe, Walter." Her finger, running from his mouth down to his collar, made him swallow convulsively when her nail ran across his Adam's apple. "There, that's better." Tie loosened, top button undone, another few inches of beautiful strong throat. Look deep into his eyes - I could ask him to do anything right now, and he would. He has no idea how the sight of him like this make me melt, makes me drip... With calculated suddenness, she stepped back from him, and boosted herself up onto the vanity unit. A crooked finger was all it took to start him moving towards her, caught in her tractor beam, gorgeous tilt of lean hips gliding him irresistibly forward until she could catch the silken tail of his tie and reel him in - between her knees.

"Undress me." Yes, Walter, you heard me right. I could be speaking in tongues from the look of stunned shyness on his sweet face! "Buttons, Walter." Ohhh, those hands, those big square, lovely hands fumbling with the tiny silk-covered fastenings on her blouse... so careful, so intent. Looking up, she could see the concentration he was bringing to the task, lower lip just caught in his teeth... And already the heat of his skin near hers... The weightless shimmer of the fabric slipped off her shoulders by wonderful heavy hands, trying so hard to be gentle, being so gentle. Solemn eyes appreciating the smoothness of the next layer, lavender silk over milky pale breasts.

"Now the skirt - zipper at the back."

He didn't know quite how to approach this, since she wasn't getting off her perch. She waited, amused, watching him work it out. Tentatively, unsure of the limits of his privileges, he leant forward and put both arms round her to reach the back of the waistband. That's what she was waiting for - the scent of him all round her, clean masculine, the aura he always carried. Mirroring his gesture, she embraced him with both arms, tucking her head in against his shoulder, breathing him in. His heart thudding solidly. His fingers surer now, deftly unzipping.

"Lift me." I can never get enough of this, she thought - his tender strength. He cradled her as if she were a rare treasure, while she shimmied out of her skirt. The counter was a shock of un-glamorous chilly laminate against her stockinged thighs. She must have shivered because he ran warm hands up and down her arms. That only changed the shivers, notching up her arousal.

"Look at me, Walter. Do you like what you see?" She pushed him back a step, watching the dark, soulful gaze grow almost reverent. She never wore sexy underwear like this normally, it's wasn't a big kink of hers and neither of her men needed such fripperies to turn them on, but she found she liked flirting, especially with Walter, who was struggling so beautifully now, not to look as if he wanted to eat her up. Of course, her plan was to be eaten. "You can touch."

Where did this adorable shyness come from? He was so ultra confident in work situations, and such a consummate lover once he relaxed, but sometimes he acted as if he were a clumsy peasant brought before royalty. Silly boy. His hand covered her breast, brushed down her stomach, skimmed at the restrained lace trim on the garter belt. His thumb ran along the crease of her groin. He didn't even know he was doing that, but every nerve ending in her body knew it, and to put it crudely, it made her juices run. His worship was making her come. She let her weight fall back, shocking cold of the mirrored wall against her shoulder blades. Two thumbs now, playing her - who was in charge now?

Into the fever, two bright girly voices, breezed into the restroom.

"So Cyndi said if he wasn't home in an hour he'd find his golf clubs in the furnace, which just made him madder, of course..." Sound of water running, paper towels being pulled from the dispenser...

"She doesn't understand him. Anyone can see that a man like Chuck isn't going to..." Overwhelming burst of heavy perfume, heels clicking on tiles...

She locked her heels around Walter's lean hips, stretched up and bit his earlobe. He almost squeaked.

"Did you hear that, Marla?"

"I heard something, sure..."

Now she licked where she bit, holding him close with one hand, while the other explored southward, finger-walking down a firm chest, over a flat abdomen. The sound of the zipper creeping down seemed as loud as a machine gun to her and Walter flinched, letting slip another tiny moan.

"There it is again. Are you okay in there, whoever you are?"

"Laura, leave them be! Maybe they're just constipated. C'me on!"

Stage whisper: "No, I wanna find out who it is." Loud frustrated sigh from beyond their refuge.

Her hand found the prize it sought and curled possessively round hot, sleek straining flesh. Loud desperate sigh from right next to the crown of her head... she whispered in lover-boy's ear: "My panties are wet, Walter. Help me out of them." Felt the groan rise up in his throat and met it at his parted lips, swallowed it with her own wicked giggle. With infinite care, he lifted her into his arms again, taking her weight on one hip while he worked the slip of pastel silk down over her bottom. She didn't help, preferring to nibble at his ear some more, circle her wet tongue inside his ear... He shuddered, and his lips shaped a silent "Beautiful Dana" against her cheek.

"I tell you, Marla, there's something going on in that stall..." Slightly louder: "...someone's having a little afternoon delight, of you ask me."

"Oohh, do you think so? Who could it be - Sally Brewer and Jim LaRosa? Megan and Greg Meyerson? Holly and that clod from Accounts?"

Bared to him now, she sat back on the counter-top, parting her knees slowly, knowing she must be glistening...

"Craig and that clod from Accounts?"

"Not in the ladies! "

His mouth was soft with wonder. Parted lips so young and fresh and pink and those small, perfect teeth of his so clean and wholesome... Sometimes he looked so virginal you'd never believe what they'd done together, the three of them. Only the heat in his eyes gave him away. And the hard, surging length in her hand. Right now she wanted him to be wicked and wanton and down and dirty. He would be, for her. At her command, breathed against his neck:

"Now drop your pants, Walter."

The power had shifted yet again as he unbuckled and dropped the dark cloth round his ankles, tilted his hips forward and sheathed himself in her. Her calves tucked him in close, tightening across his buttocks. Just before he started to move, into the timeless moment: the tinkle of a coin rolling out of Walter's pants pocket, out of sight under the door of the stall.

"What did I tell you - it's that cheapskate from Accounts."

She buried her laughter in a beautiful broad shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Office of The Director of the FBI - 7pm (Mulder)

He looks a little frazzled, but not at all rumpled. In fact, he's impeccably pressed and pristine. I'm sure he wasn't wearing that blue shirt this morning. I'm a crack agent; I notice these things. He came with me willingly enough, though, which is what really matters. I'm not even going to pretend this time that there's anything going on other than what is actually going on - I'm seducing my boss in his boss's office. On his boss's desk, if I can persuade my lover to be so tacky.

He knows this has been a fantasy of mine for years. Just as it's a fantasy of mine to fuck Walter on his big shiny conference table. I've had this scenario so clear in my mind from a hundred lonely evenings back before that disastrous road trip that landed us all in a snowbound motel with one room and two beds... I've always known that Walter's Big Bad Boss act is just that: an act. He's exceedingly good at his job, and frighteningly good at giving orders, but in private, he loves to be bossed. And it turns out that he's even better at that. He's the very best. Of course, this isn't exactly "in private" as he would have defined it, but it's after hours, the actual Big Boss has gone home to his family and our friendly security guards are happily watching "Hot Nights in the Harem" courtesy of Fox W. Mulder. So, I'm ready to give my beloved the ride of his life. Fast, hard and unforgettable, I hope.

I've actually only been in this office a handful of times, whereas Walter schleps it up here on a daily basis, of course. We both know it's because they like to think they're keeping a leash on him. We both also know that he clawed back his soul from them a while ago now, Krycek notwithstanding. We will beat Krycek. Walter tried to make it his problem alone, but Scully and I were having none of that. When the time is right, we'll deal with Alex Krycek together, the three of us.

My lover is standing at the huge window, looking out at the night sky. In silhouette, he looks like one of those heroic Soviet statues of a massively-muscled worker in a leather apron, brandishing a wrench or a sickle. But the awesome proportions of his frame have a singular grace too... he stands always poised in restraint, yet still dynamic. He'd kill me if I ever said it out loud, but I hear Wagner when I look at him. And in bed, Rachmaninov, god help me.

"So, Walter," I claim back his attention, his eyes full of the night outside, our dark, passionate purpose. "Do you think this desk is big enough to take you?" It's obscenely vast - a modern version of J. Edgar's megalomaniac acre of mahogany. Twin green-shaded lamps flank a blotter that must be a yard wide. God knows how many guys it took to get the thing in here - it was no flat-pack, that's for sure. Solid, dark gold, weighty - like my man. It's time.

"Yeah, I believe it is. Do your worst." That velvet purr... if a tiger could speak, this is how it would sound.

"I was thinking more along the lines of my best, actually... for such a special occasion." He looks suspicious - oops.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that it'll be our first time on the sixth floor, in the Sanctum Sanctorum, as it were. The first time of many, maybe?" That's a good enough reason, though not my true reason. Walter is still a little wary, thinking that it's my fantasy and he wants to be just right for me, not sure what exactly I want. He need me to take charge, which is really the essence of my fantasy. I walk up close to him:

"First of all I'm going to strip you naked..." The tie is gone, the shirt is open, then off... I can see the pulse at his throat.

"Then I'm going to make you lie on the desk, passively, waiting, while I undress." I turn on the desk lamps, the soft gleam paints his torso with light and shade. His pants are open, my hands are inside, cupping him... Wild eyes, that tiger is back again, beautiful strength only playing tame.

"Then I'm going to lick you; lick the sweat from your thighs, roll your balls on my tongue, nip at the skin. Kiss my way up your massive cock, push my tongue into the slit, suck and probe and nibble and tease, and all the while, I'm working my fingers up your tight ass..." Snarl of machismo, of pure turned-on energy - just what I wanted to give him.

He lets me push him back onto the leather inlay of the desk, he perches those taut buns of his on the edge and I simply tip him back with a hand in the centre of his chest. Bronze skin against dark green leather, golden man bathed in warm light. "Don't move."

He lies passive, as I commanded. His chest rises and falls steadily, calmly. His cock is still a heavy slumbering mass between his long thighs. I'll enjoy awakening it, shortly. He watches me strip off, his head rolled to one side so he can see me. From this angle, his eyelashes are shamefully long and thick, a seductive fan against heavy lids...

"Mulder." I wasn't expecting him to speak. Are you happy?" He asks it with that devastating seriousness that he brings to everything. And after all, even the hugest questions are still just words. This one isn't so hard. Not now.

"Yes, I am."

"That's good." So simple, his needs fulfilled in my needs. And Scully's.

I'm as naked as he is now - in every sense.

"Stretch out your arms," I command. He obeys, the powerful curves of his biceps as smooth as marble as they extend. "Grab the lamp bases and hold on. Don't move from that position." The lamps are heavy brass with green glass shades, Victorian or Edwardian, probably. Walter wraps a massive fist around each brass pedestal, looking like some male personification of Justice, balancing the deeds of the world in each mighty hand.

I sit in the desk chair - a wide, comfortable deep-buttoned leather to match the top of the desk. Slightly tacky against my bare bottom, I rock from buttock to buttock a few times to enjoy the slurp of my flesh parting and meeting. The chair rolls smoothly over the Persian carpet, rolls right up between Walter's long legs, hanging over the side of the desk. The dark hairs on his thighs catch the light and look almost auburn, the hair on his chest is soft, now greying a little, while the patch between his legs is crisp and still dark. His body is solid, maybe a little thicker than a few years ago, but as hard as ever, tight, toned, glorious. I roll right up to his groin, rest my chin on the edge of the desk, inches away from one of my favourite views in the world.

Now I must confess that Walter has the most magnificent cock I've ever seen. Long enough, broad to perfection, silky smooth, so strong you'd think it could lift you in the air when you're impaled on it... But it's these big, luscious, mouth-watering balls of his that are my weakness. I could spend hours sucking on them, nuzzling the velvety skin, brushing the fuzzy plush of his sac against my cheek, my chin, my closed eyelids. One day I'd like to dress Walter up in some nice leather gear - a chest harness to highlight those massive pecs or some of those tight leather pants with the crotch cut out... But I'd never want to strap that superb cock into some unyielding cage, or worse yet, crush those precious, delectable testicles in anything tight, or pinch the skin with clamps or piercings... Walter should be au naturel - he needs no enhancement here.

So I just settle down to torment him. For about twenty minutes, all I do is lick and suck. No hands, no teeth, just lips and tongue. Each long, sleek thigh, the groove alongside his groin, the dip over his pubic bone, the root of his cock and above all the heavy, ripe globes of his nuts. Deliciously full, even after the day he's had - the man could sire a race of stallions. One huge regret is that I can't get them both into my mouth at once. I've tried, but I worry about catching him with my teeth, or suffocating myself with all that solid sex-meat. I didn't manage to deep-throat his cock for the first several times I tried - he's big in every department. Just so big and gorgeous and BIG. I mean, I'd be happy to smother myself down there in heaven, but it would be embarrassing for Walter, so I just keep practising.

Well, now he's nicely worked up. Twisting on the desk top like a salmon on the line - all that honed muscle powering him towards his, let me count up, yes, his fifth orgasm of the day. Still keeping those fists anchored to the lamps, though. Good boy. I've barely touched his cock yet, but it's rising anyway, thicker than you'd guess from the way his pants hang so perfectly. A big cock can be a curse, as well as a blessing - I speak as one who knows. I'm slender, but long, and I have to have my pants cut very loose, or not only does it cramp my style, but the pants look, well, "pants" as they say in England these days. Walter's perfect specimen seems to curl obligingly compactly when not required for duty, the lovely bulge of his scrotum is consequently allowed it's full glory, with the layered curve of cock over it, when displayed temptingly in, say, those very snug boxer briefs I gave him last Valentine's Day, or suggested by the soft cling of the silk pyjama bottoms that were Scully's gift. I'm wandering here, transfixed by the detail of Walter, up close and intensely personal. He's been so patient, my lovely sub, he deserves a reward.

So, a quick fumble in my discarded pants pocket. Yes, there's the lube I thoughtfully brought along. One well-slicked finger ready for penetration, sir! I'm getting sillier and more blissed by the moment, and judging by the moans he's making, so is Walter.

"I'm going in, Carruthers, I may be some time," I intone, in a horrible strangulated version of upper class English. Nudge inside Walter, just my fingertip, letting the tight sphincter muscle relax around me. I was his first. I teared up a little when he admitted that. Can't believe he wasn't asked, pursued, propositioned many a time over the years. I've seen the photos of the high-school football star, and then the young Marine - he was gorgeous, I mean drop-dead heart stoppingly beautiful. Long straight limbs, those huge shoulders, skin like a girl's - dusky gold and pimple-free. Glossy dark hair with little curls on his neck before it was cropped for the Corps. Straight white teeth, firm lips, and of course, those eyes that must have broken hearts all his damn life... He even managed to look good in the seventies, and everyone looked like dorks back then, I know I did. Anyway, he says no one ever noticed him specially, until Sharon, which I just don't believe. He means that he never noticed anyone noticing him, because he just doesn't see himself that way. Still doesn't, despite nearly a year of positive reinforcement from Scully and me...

He's all open for me now, three fingers gliding easily into that tight hot clutch. Cock vertical, pulsing with blood and life and sheer virility. Keeping my fingers in place inside his ass, I stand and lean down to attend to his erection. I know how to keep him on the brink for hours - those flicks of the tongue, judicious squeezes, hard and soft sucks, unexpected stillness, each orchestrated to prolong his pleasure and mine. But he's had to call up every reserve of sexual energy today, poor darling. I won't tease him. Clambering up onto the desk, I straddle his hips and bend low over him. I kiss his beloved face, closing his dreamy eyes with kisses, raising chuckles with raspberry kisses under his chin and round his ears, blessing him with infinite sweetness and the lightest of kisses over his brow. Both hands are busy, one in him, not moving, but keeping him stretched, one inside my own ass, lubing me up to take that beast of a cock. As I dip again and again to his mouth, that hard cock is digging into my belly. I can even feel the tightening of his balls. He's saved something special for me, I can feel it.

I hold my ass-cheeks apart and settle down onto his length, jiggling a little to take him all. Irreverently, I notice what I great view of the room there is from up here. I wave cheerily to the President and the Attorney General and beam adoringly down at my perfect lover. "If I promise to behave, can I come back to yours for coffee after?"

His eyes are starry as he looks up at me. He's saved that feral, tigerish grin for this moment.

"Sorry, no. Not if you promise to behave - where's the fun in that? Now shut up and ride."

My 17-going-on-50 year old lover never fails to surprise me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1125 South Chestnut Drive, Falls Church VA - 8.50pm (the power of three)

I'm later than I meant to be, but then nothing has exactly gone to plan today. I've got aches where I didn't know you could have aches, but I feel like I've been well and truly loved for a whole lot longer than 14 hours. Despite being ready to drop, I feel emotionally restored, spiritually renewed, empowered to go on fighting the good fight for another however long I'm granted. Not even Krycek and his fiendish little critters can spoil my mood tonight. I have a fridge full of gourmet goodies from "Serafino's" and a chilled bottle of Krug and if my lovers haven't had enough of me today, we can celebrate my special day as soon as I get this damn front door open. I must be more tired than I thought.

The door opens after I've clattered the key inaccurately against the lock for the third time. No one is there. I step inside and wearily set down my briefcase in the hallway. Soft jazz is playing in the background and only the side lamps are lit in the main room. I can see the low sofa table set with glasses and plates and candles. I'm struggling to shrug out of my trench when firm hands ease it off my shoulders and steer me, from behind, over to the couch. I don't spoil the gesture by looking over my shoulder to see who it is. I close my eyes for a blessed moment just to be in the warmth and peace of my own home at last. When I open them, Fox and Dana are kneeling on the rug in front of the couch, both completely naked.

"Happy birthday, Walter!" They chorus, and kiss me on either cheek. They knew all along. Today I'm 50 years old. I wasn't going to say anything, just make a little toast to myself this evening, but they knew, and they've been wishing me a happy birthday all day long, in the pool and the elevator, and my office and the Director's office and even in a ladies restroom... I don't know why I didn't figure it out, I just didn't dare analyse why they might want to be with me that way, I guess. I ask them how much of it was planned, and they admit the whole Operation Birthday Boy scheme. I tell them that Mulder was right - I do like to be bossed around, at least the way they do it. Fox grins and says how do I feel about erotic spanking. Dana lowers her lashes and says coyly that she has a mink glove and a blindfold that she'd like to try out on me... I tell them they keep this ancient mariner feeling young.

He looks tired, poor baby. His eyes have that crinkly look they get after a hard day, though his body still carries that aura of coiled power that never deserts him, even in sleep. We've given him a pretty good workout today, the pair of us, and he more than kept pace with us. God, he's so amazing and we are so lucky. Even now, he's grinning softly, game for another round before bed, bless him. No more strenuous sex, though. Just some quiet, TLC to ease him into a long restorative sleep, sandwiched between us in his big bed. Some good food, a little champagne (we found his celebration stores in the kitchen and just added them to what we'd brought with us), some of his favourite mood music, then a long soak and into bed. We've got his clothes off him (again!) and fed him a few morsels of this and that, when he suddenly grows serious again.

"Can I ask you both something?" We nod. "Why do you need me?"

We're both dumbstruck. How can he not know? We look at each other; we each have the same answer...

"Because you need us, because you make all the difference, because you make us happy, because we love you."

He thinks about it for a while, looking at us with those wise, dark eyes. Then he speaks again:

"I love you too. More than my life. And I need you because you know exactly what I am and you still love me."

So solemn, he stands, and offers us his hands. We climb the stairs together, him pulling us behind him, up to sleep and snuggles and sweet dreams.

THE END

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