Fox Mulder stepped forward, dangerously invading Walter Skinner's personal space.

"And with all due respect, sir, he could be you."

Skinner didn't know how to reply, either to Mulder's words, or the look in his eyes, so he opted not to say anything.  Apparently it was the wrong choice.

"Goddamn it-he could be you!" Suddenly Skinner's arms were full of angry special agent, a heavy burden made up of muscles coiled tight with fury, fists pummeling his chest and eyes shining with tears.

"He could be YOU!" Again.  Louder.  Angrier.

Skinner caught the flailing arms and tried to push Mulder away, failing miserably as the younger man stopped hitting him, and clutched at his body instead.

"You, Walter-YOU!" And with that, Mulder crushed his supervisor's mouth under his, one hand on the back of his head and the other wrapped around his tie, holding him firmly in place. He literally battered at the older man's mouth, forcing his tongue past lips and teeth, kissing him in a brutal, needy way that was a little frightening and out of control.  

Skinner didn't pull away, but didn't encourage the behaviour either, despite some dangerous hints from parts south that he should do so, and an unknown time later, Mulder pulled away and regarded Skinner silently.  His breath came out of him in harsh ragged gasps.  His eyes were wet and solemn.

Skinner was breathing hard, too, and trying to control it

"You're bleeding," he said stupidly.

Mulder wiped brusquely at the cut on his lip, a result of his own biting enthusiasm, but he only managed to make it bleed more.  Skinner reached out to touch that swollen mouth, concern for Mulder outweighing any shock that he might have felt at the man's behaviour.

Mulder caught his arm in a vice-like grip, halting those questing fingers just shy of their goal.

"Don't forget, Walter.  He could be you."

And he walked away, leaving Skinner dazed and confused, but with a dawning sense of understanding…