------------------

Dragging his carry on bag up the final flight of stairs, Mulder paused wearily in front of Apartment 42 to unlock the door. 

The case had been grueling, but the six hour lay over at O'Hare had been far worse. Mulder was exhausted. Glancing at his watch, he cringed realizing he had less than four
hours before he had to report for duty. 

He dropped the bag immediately upon entering the dark apartment and leaned against the door until it closed,
reaching blindly behind to turn the deadbolt. 

Shambling to the couch, Mulder collapsed heavily, toeing off his shoes. Heaving a relieved sigh, he drifted for a moment holding sleep at bay just long enough to revel in the sense of home and familiarity.

Less than an hour later, another key scraped softly in the lock as Walter Skinner let himself into Mulder's apartment. Entering as quietly as possible, Skinner smiled as the dim light from the hallway revealed  Mulder's lanky frame curled into a ball on the couch, dead to the world. 

Skinner placed his own bags on the coffee table, turning to gently lift Mulder's head and slip a pillow beneath. Loosening Mulder's tie and belt, Skinner covered his lover with the worn and ratty afghan draped over the back of the sofa. Pressing a soft kiss on the sleeping man's forehead, Skinner retrieved
his packages and moved through the darkened room to the kitchen.

Mulder awoke to sunlight streaming through the dusty windows. Throwing back the afghan, he peered at his wrist watch in growing panic. Untangling his legs, he sat up on the couch, forcing his sleep clouded brain to form a coherent plan of action. Staring blankly at the table directly before him, Mulder finally registered a folded slip of note paper.

Fox,

Don't worry. I turned off your alarm. Go back to sleep.
When you're hungry, you'll find groceries in the kitchen.
Eat something. I want you refreshed and recuperated
by the time I drop in, this afternoon. I've missed you.

See you tonight,
W.

Mulder smiled pressing the note to his chest as he relaxed back on the couch to follow orders. For once, he would do exactly as he had been told without argument or complaint.