"He likes you, you know."

Skinner looked up from the file he was reading at the sound of Mulder's voice.

"What?"

They were sitting together on the couch in what Scully called their Catdog position, a reference that was utterly lost on both of them, but which made her giggle every time.

Skinner was sitting up on the couch, and Mulder's legs rested across his lap. He had a file folder open on Mulder's knees, and they were holding hands seemingly without being aware of it.

"The new guy. What's his name again?  Doggett?  He wants you."

Walter frowned and blushed uncomfortably.

"I don't think so, Fox," he grumbled.

"Are you kidding? I'm surprised he wasn't humping your leg the other day in the office!" Mulder exclaimed, and Walter realized immediately that there was more to what Mulder had on his mind than what he was saying.  He tossed aside the file and smiled easily at his lover.

"I guess that would explain your 'alpha-bitch' response," he said. "Pheromones."

"I'm not jealous," Mulder replied peevishly. "I just don't trust him."  His grip on Walter's hand tightened, although he made no move to rise from the controlled slouch he was currently in.

Skinner ran his free hand down Mulder's legs once, twice, then cupped his knee and did interesting things with his thumb, provoking small tremors in the muscles of Mulder's leg.

"John's all right, Fox," he said, then added softly, "He's no you, though."

Now it was Mulder's turn to blush.

"But I do think you're jealous," Walter continued.

"Walter…" There was a note of warning in Mulder's voice which Skinner chose to ignore.

"Oh, not because of me-I'm not that egocentric, thank you-"he said quickly, before Mulder could protest. "I think you're jealous of Doggett because he's been here all along.  He's got a chunk of time-of life-that you think is yours, and you don't know how to get it away from him.  Or even if you can."

"Christ, Walter, you're not pulling any punches tonight, are you?" Mulder's eyes darkened momentarily, and Walter saw a flash of bewildered hurt that was there on his face and then gone so fast that, had he not known his lover so well, he might have thought he was imagining things.

Walter's response was to pull Mulder to him by their linked hands, so that he could put an arm around him.  He stroked his back and Mulder shifted a bit so that he was leaning on Walter's shoulder.

"It's something we need to talk about, Fox," Walter continued. "It's something you need to talk about."

Mulder just sighed and stared down into his lap, and Walter didn't press.  He kept moving his hands restlessly over his lover's body in a manner both soothing and possessive.  If asked, Mulder might have said he felt cherished.

When Mulder finally spoke, his words surprised Walter.

"Scully's baby-is it yours?"

Walter laughed. "No!" he exclaimed, then softer, "No.  She never asked, even though you said she would. 
She got sick, right after you-you were taken.  She wound up in the hospital and that's when she found out. She doesn't know how it happened." Skinner briefly remembered being shocked out of his profound grief by her startling news.

"I'll bet Our Miss Morley had a hand in it," Mulder muttered, almost to himself, then added, louder, "I wish it was yours."

There was more silence then, which Walter was tempted to interrupt. He knew this wasn't easy for his lover, who seemed more interested in forgetting anything unusual had happened at all than in confronting the experience, and he wanted to help him, in any way he could. But in this case, he knew that Fox had to put his thoughts and feelings together in his own way, so he held his tongue as best he could, and waited.

When Mulder looked up at him again, he was smiling, but there was sadness in his eyes.

"It was nice to be back in my apartment."

Neither Skinner nor Scully had been able to let go of the cheesy one-room in Alexandria, not even after Mulder was declared dead and buried.  The lease on it had been pre-paid, and even though they had several discussions, some of them frighteningly heated, about packing up Mulder's things and finding a sub-let for the place, neither one of them could find it in their hearts to let go.

There had been nights when Skinner had found himself drawn to Hegel Place, hurting, lonely and afraid, only to find Scully already there, dusting sometimes, or feeding the fish, or more often just sitting quietly on the old couch, looking like a passenger waiting for a train that would never come.  Inevitably Skinner would join her, and if any good at all could be said to have come from Mulder's abduction and death, it was the close friendship that his lover and his best friend had formed in his absence.

"We couldn't decide who got custody of the fish," Walter said, and Mulder's smile this time was less unhappy. He squirmed around on the couch until he could tuck his head comfortably into the crook of Walter's arm.

"You gave Frohike all my movies," he complained, the words slightly muffled as he spoke into Walter's chest.

"It was in your will," Skinner replied, swallowing the lump in his throat that resulted from that happy thought.

Mulder kissed his lover's jaw softly, tasted tension, and whispered, "Leave it to me to have a plan for the porn, but not to work out some sort of joint custody thing for you, Scully and the mollies."

"Priorities, I suppose." Skinner matched Mulder's soft tone, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I think that's what it's all about, Walter.  Priorities. For all of us." He straightened up, and Walter immediately recognized his speech-making posture.

"Scully, for example," he began. "Her priority is to her unborn child. She has to make sure she can provide everything for that child. A home, security, financial and emotional stability…Then there's Agent Doggett-his priority is doing whatever it takes to get him back on the fast track at work; getting back his life of solve rates, case ratios and nailing the bad guys-"

"I thought nailing me was his priority," Skinner teased.

"You are a priority, Walter, but not his top priority." Mulder shifted again, and forced more contact between them.  "And it's those levels of importance, the recognition of where each thing, each event, every moment of one's life even-it's where they all fit that is the only thing making it all work for me right now." His voice rose a little as he gazed at Walter imploringly.

"I need to know what happened to me-not just-" He groped for the right word, couldn't find it, and settled on "just up there, but what happened after, too. When you saved me." He gave him a grateful smile. "I need to know how I was healed."  He touched his chest almost self consciously, and Walter tried to find any trace of the scars that had been on his cheeks-he saw nothing but smooth, unblemished skin just starting to darken with late-day shadow. "I need to know how I fit back into the world. Into my world, into my work. I need to find where it is I belong. I need to feel as if I do belong."

"Of course you do, Fox." Walter brushed a stray lock of hair from his lover's brow.

"There are so many things that want or need to be the priority in my life that it's almost overwhelming, Walter. From picking up the suits I left at the cleaners nine months ago, to staying off of the front page of the Weekly World News. From getting back to the job that has been my life for as long as I can remember, to coming up with an iron-clad alibi for when I throw Kersh out of his office window-"

They shared a nasty smile over that last thought.

Mulder continued after a moment of twining his fingers in Walter's, and chewing reflectively on his lower lip. "I'm still processing being alive.  Being whole and healthy.  Some days I wake up scared to death that this is all a dream, some alien hallucination, or hell, maybe it was just something I ate.  My next thought is that what happened to me then is the dream, the false memory, and it's a lifetime ago and I'm just that spooky kid in the basement again. There's so much that I want and need and am trying to understand. So much to sort out…" His fingers trembled in Walter's, then clutched tightly. 

"But, Walter…"Each word was punctuated with soft yet somehow hungry kisses. "My top priority…is you."

Next thing Skinner knew, it seemed that Mulder's top priority had become tasting every inch of him from the inside out as he pressed forward and thrust his tongue deep into Walter's mouth.

Skinner accepted the almost desperate kiss and returned it eagerly, and for long minutes they drank from one another.

Under the faint flavour of toothpaste, sunflower seeds and coffee, Skinner tasted fear and confusion, but mostly love.

Mulder eagerly devoured his lover's mouth, finding security, stability and sanity in the older man's kiss.

They parted breathless and smiled at one another.

"Being a top priority has its advantages." Skinner still had one arm wrapped tight around Mulder, while his other hand had taken up that restless stroking motion again, over Mulder's chest, his legs, then back again.

"I won't hump your leg at the office, Walter," his words came out a little breathy as he arched into Skinner's hand.

"That's too bad. Certainly would liven up budget reviews." He swallowed Mulder's laughter with another deep kiss, then turned it into a moan as he brushed his hand across the conspicuous bulge in Mulder's pants.

"Come on, Fox." Walter stood, bringing Mulder to his feet with him, now kissing his throat. "Let's go to bed, and I'll show you my top priority."

Mulder acquiesced with something like a purr, taking Walter's hand as they ascended the stairs.

"Did I mention I love a man who knows where his priorities lie?"
 
 

Wow, looks like all is well for our intrepid heroes...or is it? Next chapter, Okay Maybe Just One