By Michele (starshine24mc@yahoo.com)
Rating: NC17
Fandom: X-Files
Pairing: M/Sk
Date: January 1, 2001
Beta: none
Spoilers: War of the Coprophages, maybe others…
Boring but necessary disclaimer: C.C., Fox and 1013 own them, I’m just borrowing them for fun, not profit, and I promise to return them only slightly bruised
Archive: put it wherever you like, just leave my name on it
Feedback: Yes, PLEASE!
Summary:  Part of a work in progress-thanks for being patient.  Readers and writers alike on the net-you've made me feel important and alive for the first time in forever. Thank you all...

***

Grover’s Mill
10:13 P.M.

Walter Skinner slammed his fist against the side of his car, and only managed to hurt his hand.  He felt frustrated, angry, desperately afraid, so many things, not all of them easily categorized, and he hit the car again.

Around him he could hear the sounds of men and women calling out to one another, verifying locations and information as the search for Fox Mulder continued.  He had come back to the original scene of the accident once more police had arrived, knowing that in the current mental state he was in, he would be more hindrance than help, and he thought he would do more good being there when the truck came from Quantico to pick up Mulder's car.

Scully had continued to search with the officers, and he could hear her voice clearly above the others, calling out her location.

Nearly two hours, Walter thought, glancing at his watch, two hours, and not a goddamned thing.  It's like the damn forest has just swallowed him up.  Closing his eyes did nothing to remove the mental picture he had of his lover wandering aimlessly through dark foliage, bloody and dazed.

Scully's voice again, louder this time.  He thought she must have been doubling back over her tracks. This was verified a few minutes later as she came out of the thick underbrush, pushing her hair out of her eyes and muttering to herself.  Then she barked something into the radio she held in one hand, turned it off, and approached him.

"Nothing yet, sir," she said in reply to the question in his eyes. "But if he's out there, we've got enough men now to cover every inch of this place."

Walter nodded at this even as he wanted to voice a protest, to say that he'd be the one to find Mulder.  To say that he should be out there, beating the bushes and-

Scully's hand on his arm snapped him out of his reverie, and he suddenly felt very tired.

"The sheriff says there's a coffee shop less than five miles up the road.  We can take the radio with us." When Walter didn't answer, she continued: "I don't know about you, sir, but if I don't get a cup of coffee soon, I'm going to start taking hostages."

This line earned her a small grin.

"Coffee is a federal and state requirement for situations like this, " he replied. "But I think we should wait until the truck-"

As if on cue, the tow truck that had been dispatched to retrieve Mulder's car pulled into what was rapidly becoming a law official parking lot.

The two of them watched it weave between police cars and around policemen until it was situated behind Mulder's car.

Walter turned to Scully and said. "Why don't I make sure everything is arranged for the vehicle, while you check in with the sheriff and tell him where we'll be.  I'll meet you back here at the car."

"On it, sir."  She started to walk away, stopped a moment, took another step, then stopped again and turned to face him.

"We will find him, sir."

"I know."

"That's good."  Then she was striding away from him and towards the makeshift command center the police had set up next to Mulder's car.

Walter stretched, winced as tired muscles in his back protested, then followed Scully to the tow truck.  He recognized the driver as one of the tireless, nameless men and women who did so much of the low-level grunt work for the bureau, helping to make the agents and directors look as good as they did.

He explained to the man exactly what was needed for this particular vehicle, then left him to his job and started back to his own car.  He spared a moment to glance over to where Scully was handling the locals in a way that even he was envious of, and he thought that coffee with her was going to be interesting at best, and incredibly uncomfortable at worst.  He wondered now why he and Fox had never told her.  It had seemed for the best at the time, but now, when the last thing he wanted to do was discuss his unusual albeit wonderful love life with anyone, let alone his lover's best friend…

*…best friend…

*What?

*I said, she's your best friend, Fox.  She deserves to know.

*Walter, I don't know.

*What is it? Is it because it's me?

*Hey, none of that, now.  Only one insecure jerk in this bed at a time.  I love you, Walter, and I'm proud to be with you.  It's just…

*Tell me.

*Well, she's Catholic, for starters.

*So, this should be nothing new for her then.

*Funny.  Traditionally, religion has cast a less than favorable glance at what we're doing here, you know. In Salem, during the witch trials, gay men were often used as firewood when witches were burned at the stake.

*We're not in Salem, and even if we were,  it was also widely held that women with red hair were enchanted by the devil, so I guess we all would have gone up in smoke together.

*When did my bedroom become Comedy Central?  Wait *L*, don't answer that!  You know what I mean, Walter.

*I know what you're saying, anyway.  Now what's the real reason.

*I love Scully a lot, and I respect her so much, and…

*And?

*...

*Fox, I don't think anything could change the way Scully feels about you. If aliens, mutants and vampires haven't done it, then I think she can handle anything.

"Sir?"

He realized he was standing outside the car, keys in hand, lost in thought, and Scully was gazing at him worriedly.

"Sorry, Scully.  Woolgathering."

"I think that's understandable.  They're going to call if they find anything.  Let's go."

Walter opened the car door for her, then walked over to his side, sparing one last glance at the tow truck pulling Mulder's car away.

…What the hell is going on?  Where am I?  I thought I saw Samantha!  Was it…was it them?  Okay, Mulder, take a deep breath here and figure out what's happening.  I'm not outside anymore.  I think I'm in a house…an apartment…no, feels bigger than that. Okay, let's try the opening eyes thing again.  It's dark. I think it's still night…I think I'm in…in a bedroom.  I'm definitely on a bed.  Short bed, not like Walter's…Walter! Oh my god, I was supposed to tell him…Christ, what a mess. I think the man in the truck was the same man in the ambulance that time that…Scully! Thank god she's on leave-she'd think I was ditching her again, when I promised-
Someone's coming! Gotta get up…Shit, I think I'm-no, I know it-I'm tied up.  Like I haven't been in restraints enough in my life. Dammit!
Oh, god, what the hell is going on? Who's there?
It's a little girl.
What's she doing? She's got a candle, and I can just make out her face-it's not Sam-not that I really thought it was, I just-now what? She's put a finger to her mouth. Quiet? Why?  She looks scared.
Now what's this? What? Drink? I don't know what that is-wait-wait-too fast I'm choking-what's she so scared of, looking all over the place like that. It's water.  Okay, water is good. Hey, wait! Where's she going? Wait! Come back!
Heavy sound outside the door now. Don't know who tied me here, but they're good-I can't move. More noises. What was that?  Oh, god, is that crying? Is it the girl? What the hell is going on…?