Faint light illuminated the early morning sky above
Washington as Walter Skinner made his way
through the silent streets. 

Sometimes he hated his job.

Three-thirty in the morning and the phone rings.

The least it could be is something other than
another mess. After all his years with the Bureau
you would think he would be used to it, but this
was different.

It was them again.

Those words played like a tiny singsong rhyme
behind his aching eyes.

Mulder...

Scully...

Mulder...

Scully...

Groaning he rubbed the bridge of his nose trying
to ease the sleep from his eyes. He would sell
his soul to that tobacco sucking wrinkle bag for
the ability to wrap his hands around Mulder's
scrawny neck right now. 

Why him?

What had he done in his last life to deserve
this constant chaos? This never ending battle
of the absurd.

A sharp screech from behind him brought
his eyes up to see the traffic light was no
longer red. He couldn't say the same for his
sleep deprived eyes though.

Hitting the gas he raised his hand in a one finger
salute to the impatient driver behind him. Not
very becoming of an Assistant Director of the
FBI, but then he really didn't give a flying fuck
what anyone thought this early in the morning.

As he wove his way through the streets, towards
his office, his thoughts drifted back to the call he
had received only an hour and a half before.

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

"...uummm...Skinner..."

"Sir?"

Rolling over he reached for his glasses, then blinked
as he focused on the red glow of the digital clock
on the nightstand.

"Agent Scully do you have any idea what time it
is?"

There was a soft hiss of breath on the other end
of the line. He knew that sound to well, Mulder 
had done it again.

"Agent Scully..."

"Sir, I am very aware of the time, but we have
a small problem."

We.

It was always we when what she really meant 
was he had a problem. He was the one who sat 
through countless meetings, justifying the
expenses...the wild theories...the insanity that 
was Fox William Mulder. God only knew what
it was this time.

"Sir?"

After almost five years he knew that tone.

Why Dana Scully remained with old Spooky was
a much debated topic around the hallowed halls
of the Hoover. Personally he believed she was
a couple of nuts short of a jar of peanut butter.

A shame really.

"What has he done now?" he felt his breath
escape in a heavy sigh.

"The local sheriff is holding Agent Mulder on
charges of first degree murder."

Sitting bolt straight up, he swung his legs over
the edge of the bed. She had his undivided
attention now.

Jesus H. Christ!!

First degree murder?

"Who? What the hell happened?!" he roared
as he stood gathering his clothes.

"Uh...I...it's a long story, sir. He was in pursuit
of a...a suspect and..."

"...aaaannnddd?"

"Well," there was the distinct clearing of a throat
on the other end of the receiver. "He took down
the suspect in the process, sir."

"You mean he discharged his weapon?" he 
could feel the throbbing begin between his eyes.

Silence.

Then another soft cough as she cleared her throat
again. He could almost see her shuffling her feet
against the faded tile floor of yet another dreary
little police station.

"Not exactly, sir."

"Then what Agent Scully did he exactly do?"

A tiny whisper.

"What?"

"...he..staaa...him."

"He what?!" 

A loud sigh this time, as if she were ready to throttle 
Mulder herself.

"He staked the suspect, sir."

"He threw a steak? How do you kill someone with
a steak?" Leave it up to Mulder to figure a way to
do that.

"No, sir he drove a stake...a wooden stake through
the suspect's heart."

"A wooden stake?! Who does he think that he is 
Van Helsing? This isn't Dracula or one of his tacky
B-movies!"

If he hadn't known better Dana Scully was giggling
somewhere in Cheney aka Butt Fuck, Texas! Jesus
why him? 

Why?

He sucked a deep breath between clenched teeth, then
swallowed hard. "Who is the officer in charge?"

"Lucius Hartwell," her voice softened.

It was almost...jeez...almost dreamy.

"Is there something else I should know Agent?"

"No, sir!" she spoke just a little to loudly, as if she were
trying to cover up her earlier tone.

"I'll see what I can do Agent Scully!" he didn't wait for
her reply. Fuck it! What else could she have to say after
that little diddy?

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

Four hundred and forty-six million dollars.

"Sir?"

Glancing up from his vigil at the outer door he smiled at
the curious look Kimberly gave him. Lifting a finger to
his lips he winked at his assistant as she moved to his side.

Beyond the frosted glass the muffled whispers of his two
troublesome agents began to rise.

"Mulder just keep reminding him that you were drugged."

There was the faint rustle of cloth as if they had leaned
towards each other. A soft murmur came quickly followed
by Mulder's voice spiking almost in a childish shriek.

"Would you stop that!"

Sighing he drew back trying to choke off the laughter
that welled up in the back of his throat.

"Couldn't hurt," came Scully's soft reply.

Kimberly clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle
her own girlish giggle as she made her way to her desk.

He knew there was a reason he liked her, he thought.

Standing tall, he straightened his tie, took a deep breath, 
then put on his best "Your ass is mine" face. Turning to 
his assistant he requested approval in a silent tradition. 
With one slim hand she saluted him, a wide smile playing 
over her lips. 

A quick shake of his head later and he grabbed the knob 
opening the door to confront the two nervous agents.

Four hundred and forty-six million.

Wait until he told them about the neck knawing.

"I was drugged!" came wafting through the door
before he ever spoke a word.

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

Vampires.

Sometimes it was either laugh or cry. At this moment
he was laughing so hard he thought he might just
wet his BVDs.

Tears were running down his face, his breathing
erratic to the point of hyperventilation. Gasping for
a breath he pushed the reports across the desk
wondering what had possessed these two insane
partners to do what they had done.

Two reports.

Not one, but two reports.

It was apparent to him from Mulder's telling of the
case that he was jealous. It wasn't very professional
for an agent to be jealous about ones partner, a soft
snort escaped his parted lips.

And Scully!

Please, he thought, don't get me started.

Painting Mulder as a bumbling idiot that would "BELIEVE"
anything...well he would believe anything, but...

He had never seen these two like this. Almost five
years of everything from abductions to cancer to
flukeman and beyond, but nothing like this.

One deep breath later and the laughing had died down
to soft hiccups. After a few moments he stood going
to his private restroom to freshen up. Desperately
he splashed cold water over his flushed face in a vain 
attempt to rinse away the evidence of this momentary 
lapse of sanity, then straightened his tie.

In five minutes both Mulder and Scully would be
escorted into his office for the second time in three
days.

Well, at least the Bureau wasn't being sued anymore
by trailer trash vampires from hell. A tiny giggle escaped
the corner of his mouth as he stepped into his office.

Once he settled down a bit more he buzzed the outer
office. "Kimberly could you please show Agents Mulder
and Scully into my office."

"Of course, sir...," came the faint reply from the speaker.

This was going to be fun.

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

It was amazing how many ways Fox Mulder could squirm
that cute little ass of his. For the past twenty minutes he 
had glanced over the top of the report he had already
read three hours ago.

He had actually counted at least ten different types of 
squirms and ten more types of twitches. Each twitch was
like a sledge hammer hitting a wall. Jesus he wanted to
laugh so bad it hurt, but there was no way.

Setting down the report he leaned back into his chair,
resting his elbow on the arm. He regarded them for a few
silent moments. He had to give Scully this, despite the
pained statement in her eyes, she hadn't budged or 
twitched once since sitting down.

"So that's it?"

Damn but he was going to explode if this didn't end soon.

"They simply disappeared without a trace?"

The tension level elevated at least by twenty degrees.

There was a moment charged with silence where his two 
pain in the ass charges looked desperately at one another. 

"And that's exactly the way it happened? From start
to finish?"

His last comment was followed by much hemming and
hawing, then nodding of heads. This reminded him of
his childhood days when he and his brother had been
caught red-handed. For the life of him he couldn't quite
figure this bad blood out between the two of them.

Five minutes later the meeting ended with the final
words "...except for the part about the buck teeth."

"Agent Mulder!"

Fox Mulder stopped dead in his tracks. "Yes, sir?"

"May I speak with you privately?"

A loud gulp drifted from the doorway. Tapping one
foot impatiently on the carpet he waited as Scully 
leaned in whispering in Mulder's ear. I wonder if 
he realizes how much he gives away with his body 
language, he thought.

"Of course...sir," a hint of sarcasm colored the
last word. Mulder reached out closing the door
as his partner backed out with a nod.

"Exactly how...Agent Mulder...does whether
Lucius Hartwell have buckteeth or not have anything
to do with this case?"

Turning around a tiny snicker escaped Mulder as
his eyes met Skinner's. "Jealous much Walter?"
he hissed.

It was his turn to raise the vaunted brow this time.

"I do believe you've been spending to much time
around my partner Walter. Though the "brow"
does look quite convincing on you." Mulder
flopped down in his chair spinning it around until
he was staring out the window.

Great Mulder has lost the last bit of sanity he
possessed, he sighed to himself. It was bound to
happen eventually, but he had hoped, not on his
shift.

"Agent Mulder this is not appropriate behavior.
Get out of my chair now!" he growled.

Mulder stood walking around the desk his eyes
glittering with a heated desire he had often seen
directed at the truth. "Have I been a bad boy
Walter?"

Again he felt his brow rise skyward.

"I suggest," he cleared his throat, "...that you
find your way home and get some rest. I don't
believe the drugs have worn off yet. Take a
few days...apparently you've been through
the wringer and please let Scully know I wish
her to do the same."

With a disappointed grunt Mulder headed
for the door only to jump when Skinner made
contact with one rounded ass cheek.

"Oh, yes," he leaned in close to Mulder.

Mulder froze.

"Remember your ass is mine," another quick
squeeze and he began to laugh as Mulder
fled the office.

This little game had been going on for way
to long he thought. Apparently Mulder didn't
want to take no for an answer so he would
give him what he wanted.

Skinner swung the office door closed, humming
softly as he wandered back to his desk. If he 
wanted to act like a spoiled child he would treat
him like one.

Bad boys always got their just desserts.

The End 

Legend tells,
Of how she appears as a beautiful woman,
but force her to face her reflection
& her true face is revealed
A fox with snowy white fur
The Kitsune...
Shall we go hunting?

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