Part Two

If Skinner had had any hair to spare, he probably would be pulling it out!

Here they were—finally—in their new home and everything that could have gone wrong had.

And to think everything had begun so well.

He had retired last Friday with, at his request, minimum fanfare. Instead of the usual 'gold watch' cliche, he had been presented with a fly-fishing package that had taken his breath away. Top of the line graphite rod, Hardy reel. A creel that came with lines and flies for every possible occasion.

The Director had been very smug that this decision of his had met with such success.

Davy had finished off his last day at school with a hug for his teacher, a handshake from the director and a complete set of Tolkien from the class. Apart from a couple of the friendlier kids, he really was not unhappy to be leaving the school.

Kim's boys were a different story. There were tears there from all three boys among the promises of visits.

Krycek was quiet but he seemed to accept the fact that he had come home, as Skinner said, only to move. He'd disappeared on the Friday for a while and had returned with a few bags of new clothes which he stashed in a large gym bag for the trip to Vermont, and some books, CDs and videos he packed in a box which he then carefully labeled with his name.

Saturday, all started well. The movers arrived at the prescribed time. The truck was quickly filled. The things the three of them wanted to bring along were safely stashed in Skinner's new SUV, a forest green Davy proudly pointed out to Krycek that he had selected.

Both SUV and truck left on time.

And that was the last of their luck.

The truck was supposed to arrive around noon Sunday in Middlebury. Skinner had agreed to pay overtime to ensure that arrival. Unfortunately, the truck had a breakdown and didn't arrive until Monday afternoon.

Not that the late arrival did much to inconvenience the travellers. No, that honour went to a sudden blizzard that came out of nowhere, with snow falling faster than the road crews could handle and high winds causing drifts that blocked highways, stranding them in a small town only a few hours from their final destination. The small motel had been quickly filled up with other stranded travellers and the three ended up spending the night camped out on the floor in a corner of the local elementary school gym. Krycek didn't get much rest. That many people around him, the crying babies and children, the cranky adults made him too edgy to sleep. Davy and Skinner slept only fitfully.

It was the middle of the next morning before they could safely get back on road. Apart from the coffee, juice and toast provided, they'd not taken the time to eat more so that by the time they got to Middlebury, Davy was cranky with hunger and fatigue, Krycek was stolidly silent and Skinner was wondering just what the hell else could go wrong.

The Real Estate office was closed.

The agent he had been dealing with had expected them the previous day and had now left for a family gathering. By the time Skinner managed to track down another agent, who went into the office to get the keys to the house, he had also gotten the message from the moving company about the truck's delay.

The pathway to the house and the driveway which had been cleared prior to the storm were now packed tight with drifted snow. By the time Skinner and the agent got to the front door, they had had to force their way through some hip-deep drifts.

The good news about the house was that the utilities were on. They had light and heat. Of course, they had no beds, no blankets, nothing to eat on or with. Not that there was any food in the house.

The agent was very accommodating. Through his efforts, the local Inn was more than pleased to take them, if they were all three willing to share a small room with a double bed. They could find a cot for the child, but that was the best they could do as they too were still filled from the storm.

At least, thought Skinner, supper had been delicious. Not that it made up for the day, but it was the first really good event of the day and he wasn't going to be too particular. The room had a television and Davy settled down on his cot to watch a Disney movie while Skinner and Krycek tried to get comfortable on the bed that, for the two of them, was just that much too small right now. Krycek slept almost on the edge of his side of the bed while Skinner spent the night very aware of the presence of a child in the room with them.

Breakfast had also been excellent. The coffee was top quality and Skinner found he was in a better frame of mind. At first, it was hard to tell how Krycek was other than silent. However, by the end of the meal, Davy had picked up Krycek's mood and was looking from one adult to the other as though expecting an explosion of some kind.

Their first stop was at the local hardware store where Skinner picked up three shovels and a extra large thermos. The Inn was more than pleased to fill it up with coffee and to provide them with sandwiches and drinks for lunch. Skinner reserved the room for another night, just in case. The Inn, having heard from the agent about their trials, informed Skinner that if he cancelled the room before 5 p.m., there would be no charge.

So they had cleared the way to their new house, an activity that seemed to defuse some of the tension they were all carrying. Krycek and Davy had emptied the SUV while Skinner had finished shoveling snow away from the door of the double garage that stood to the left of the house, then Davy and Skinner had given Krycek the grand tour of the house.

Davy's bedroom was huge, the complete front width of the house. There was a large bathroom and what Skinner called his office to the left of the stairwell, the spare bedroom and what was to be Krycek's office to the right. Their bedroom, the one with the fireplace, had its own bathroom complete with tub and shower which made it smaller than Davy's room even though it too was the width of the house.

All three of them stared out at the view of the whitened back yard with its now bare trees. Skinner found it almost peaceful.

Krycek must have felt that as well. Several minutes later, he took a deep breath, let it out and seemed to relax.

After eating their lunch, they had tackled the veranda, clearing it of snow. Krycek was the one who noticed the attention they were getting. From the street, a small group of children was watching them. Once they realized that they had the adults' attentions, they ran off.

Davy wondered if they lived near-by. He added, a little plaintively, "Do you think they'll like me?"

Before Skinner had a chance to say of course, the moving van arrived.

Now, two days later, the mood had grown yet again tense.

Krycek had spent both nights definitely sleeping on his side of the bed, both days barely speaking. Davy was either too quiet or far too wound up, with nothing, so it seemed, in between. And Skinner, looking around at the mess of moving which still escaped order, found himself wondering what the hell had possessed him to think that this had been a good idea.

Davy had spent the morning asking when he was going to get his dog until Skinner had told him to stop asking, that he didn't want to hear the word "dog" again until they had settled in. Right now, Davy was whining that there was nothing for him to drink in the fridge. Krycek was frigidly staring out of the den window after unpacking a box of books. And Skinner knew he could no longer ignore the pounding in his head.

"Okay! That does it! Everyone in the parlour. Now!"

Krycek turned as though he were figuring out which would be the fastest way out. Davy's mouth was open in mid-whine. He had never before heard that tone from Skinner. Krycek had. It reminded him of his time with the FBI and a particularly stringent dressing down the office had gotten from a certain AD.

Davy wriggled in his corner of the couch, Krycek sat still in the other.

Skinner rubbed his scalp with both hands and tried to get his tiredness, his anger and, yes, his fear all under control.

He stopped in front of the couch, sat on the arm of favourite chair and closed his eyes.

"Look, I'm not going to lie to you two. I know this hasn't gone off as planned. I know that we're all tired and stressed. And I'll admit that this was probably a bad idea. But we're here and we've all got to deal with this."

He opened his eyes and examined the two faces watching him. Davy's was worried; Krycek's, expressionless. Neither was good news. Both had to be addressed.

"Davy. I know this past year has been hard. You were found by Alex and spirited away. You both were on the run far too long. Alex was hurt and you were ill. Then I popped up and took the two of you to my place. Alex left you with me. All with the best of intentions, but without ever asking you what you thought about the whole situation."

Krycek, Skinner caught out of the corner of his eye, looked startled by that idea. Then Krycek turned slightly so he could watch Davy's face. Right now, in a manner with which Skinner was the more familiar, Davy's face was down, focused on the toes of his running shoes.

Skinner continued, his voice indicating his sympathy. "Then you suddenly found yourself with a father, with people who were doing all sorts of things that they thought was best for you. Again, without asking what you wanted. I know that you liked Madame and Molly, and that you really got along well with Kim's boys. And that you're missing all of them. I know, too, that school wasn't a great success. I'm sorry about that, but I wanted you safe and that was the best place for you to be while we were in D.C.

"I know that Alex's coming back to us, the leaving, the moving, the 'adventures' we've had in the past couple of days, the tension between Alex and myself..." Now he had Krycek's full attention. "All that is very upsetting to you. I understand that, Davy."

The boy glanced sideways at Krycek then up at Skinner. His lower lip was caught under his front teeth. He looked about to cry.

"And," Skinner gentled his voice even more, "what you need to understand is, no matter what happens, Alex and I, we both love you very much."

Davy said nothing but his eyes widened with surprise.

Shit! thought Skinner, did the boy really not know how they felt about him?

"As you grow older," he smiled at the boy, "there will be times when you'll think we don't understand you. That we're too strict. We'll have arguments, disagreements. You'll yell at us and we'll probably yell straight back at you. But that's all right, Davy. Because we will always love you, no matter what."

Then Skinner looked at the man silently watching. "And Alex. I know that you didn't need all this right now. That you're beyond tired. That you came home, not knowing what to expect, and what you walked into was not of your making. That the past few days have been tough on you as well. And that, in the next few weeks, there will be more difficult days in among the good ones. But in all that, you too need to remember that Davy and I, we both love you. No matter what."

Krycek's eyes weren't completely successful in hiding his shock.

"And as for me, well," Skinner shook his head, "I should have thought that this was too much happening in too short a time. Even though I've been looking forward to it, retirement is a big change in one's life. And work was pretty stressful those last weeks as we were trying to tie up ends and get the new A.D. up to snuff on all the other things that the office deals with.

"I'm new at being a parent and I worry too much about some things and probably not enough about others. I wanted this move because I thought—and still think - that you, Davy, will do better here than you would in D.C. That we would have the kind of home I grew up in, with a dog, a back yard, space for all of us. And yes, Alex, I did include you in the 'us'."

Krycek cocked his head slightly as though considering that.

Skinner sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Look, maybe moving up here in November was not the brightest of ideas. I should have realized that Mother Nature was a little more capricious in Vermont than in D.C. And yes, I should have considered that we would all need time to adjust. That everything wouldn't necessarily be clear sailing. But through it all, I will remember that you both love me."

Davy nodded his head several times at that. Skinner smiled, reached over to place his hand on one of those small feet.

"And, Davy, when you feel comfortable enough to yell at us, to go stomping up the stairs and slam the door all the time muttering under your breath, we, Alex and I, we will both remember that you love us all the while."

Now both of the faces staring at him wore similar expressions of astonishment. Damn, thought Skinner, he should have had this conversation with them long before now.

Davy lowered his head and peered sideways at Alex, as though looking for confirmation of what Skinner had said. Krycek cocked his head sideways and met the boy's glance. His head moved in a slight nodding motion and Davy, almost shyly, nodded back.

"Now then," Skinner had their attention once more, "one of the problems we're all facing is that we're all far too tired and we're finding each other's company difficult. I think it would be best if we went off and did things that we need to do, but on our own. Davy, your room needs tiding up. You need to decide what should go where and I think that this would be a good thing for you to do for the next hour or so. While you're doing that, I'll be in my office, doing the same thing. Alex, I think you'll find paper and pencils in that box over there. This would be a good time for you to go make a list of what you'll need for your office."

Nearly two hours later, Skinner stood in the doorway of Krycek's office and examined the man lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, his good arm under his head. The pad of paper on the floor next to him was still blank.

Skinner cleared his throat and waited until he had Krycek's attention. "Davy is sound asleep on his bed. I think that's just what he needed." He came part way into the room. "You okay?"

Krycek let his head fall back. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." Skinner went to sit on the floor by Krycek, one leg folded up under the other which he stretched out.

Krycek worried his lower lip then turned to face the man above him. "You told Davy that you wouldn't lie to him."

"That's right." Skinner wondered where this was going.

"You also told Davy that we both loved him."

"Yes." Skinner cocked his head. "Are you going to tell me you don't love him?"

Krycek ignored that and went on. "You also said that you...that both of you...you and Davy...that you loved me."

Skinner nodded at the unasked question. "Is that what you want to know? If Davy and I love you?" He reached out and rested his hand on Krycek's hip. "Alex, you would have to be blind and senseless not to understand that Davy loves you."

Still no real reaction on Krycek's part. Skinner allowed a small smile to grace his face. "Ah. Davy's not the one you're wondering about."

Krycek shrugged. "I know you said what you did because Davy's been uneasy these past few days."

"Alex, I said it because it's true."

"You love me." Krycek scoffed, obviously disbelieving.

Skinner allowed the smile more freedom. "Well, what's so strange about that?"

"Fuck, Skinner. Lie all you want to the kid, but please, not to me."

The wariness shimmering under that statement made Skinner think twice before snapping off an answer. He pulled his hand back and rested it on his knee. "Alex. You once told me that you wouldn't hide the truth from Davy. That was the reason why you told him he was a clone. I've also promised Davy I wouldn't lie to him. Besides, that's not what a kid needs: lies don't help you find your way in life.

"So, if I won't lie to Davy, I don't see any need to lie to you. Besides, it's not like you need that kind of protection."

"Yeah, okay. But 'love', Skinner?"

Skinner shrugged. "Alex. Do you think you're the only one who's unsure of what's going on? Davy is still finding his feet. He's doing incredibly well handling all the changes in his life in so short a time. And, right now, he's probably handling all these new relationships the best of all of us.

"As for us, well, all I know is that I find I want and need both of you in my life. And the reason that I think you might want both of us in yours is the fact that you're still here."

"And that's love?"

"One facet of it." Skinner reached out his hand and let it lie on Krycek's knee. "Alex, why do you think I can't use the word love in relation to you and mean it?"

Krycek found the ceiling very interesting once more. Skinner waited, his hand warm on Krycek's knee.

Krycek finally moved, sitting up, and leaned back against the wall to meet Skinner's look straight on. "You know what my life has been. The only thing I know about love, the kind between adults, is what I've seen in movies or read in books. But even that is enough to tell me that there must be something seriously wrong with you if you think you...care that way about me."

Skinner pulled his legs under him and sat facing Krycek. Before he could say anything, Krycek added, "Look, it's not necessary to use that love line on me. I came back and I don't mind being in your bed. In fact, I quite like it. I'm just saying that you don't have to pretend anything with me."

Skinner nodded his head as though agreeing then moved so quickly Krycek didn't have a chance to react. He grabbed Krycek's head and pulled it to him. Holding it steady with a tight grip in his hair, Skinner took Krycek's mouth for a kiss that he hoped would make his feelings rather more obvious.

At first, Krycek barely allowed it, then, when Skinner didn't let up, he slowly relaxed into the kiss, finally returning it. Only then did Skinner loosen his grip on Krycek's head.

"I guess," Skinner said when he finally caught his breath, "that there must be something seriously wrong with me. Of course, that's only a real problem if it's one-sided. Is it, Alex?"

Krycek licked the taste of Skinner from his lips slowly. "No," he whispered. "But that still doesn't answer the question." He dropped his head onto Skinner's shoulder. "I beat you. I killed you. I used the nanos to control you."

"Yes," agreed Skinner. "And I have to admit that I didn't really like any of that. But, yes, I also understand that for you back then, it was that or death. For both of us. I seriously doubt that there will be any repeats of those episodes, especially since the people who ordered you to do those things are now all gone. And, knowing that, thinking about it, I find that it's not been that difficult to forgive you."

"Yeah?" Krycek pulled back. He didn't sound as though he really believed that was all there was to it, but his face was more open than Skinner had ever seen it.

"Yeah."

Krycek nodded and then leaned in and took possession of Skinner's mouth. They were slowly getting into the feel of it when they heard a loud, "Yuck!"

Two hard cocks quickly wilted.

Skinner looked over his shoulder at the boy who was watching them from the open doorway. He sighed. They were going to have to remember to close doors.

"Are you two going to be playing sucky face a lot?" Davy's disgust was very audible.

Skinner grinned at the boy, keeping his grip on Krycek whose forehead was propped on Skinner's shoulder. "I hope so."

"Alex?"

Krycek raised his head but kept his eyes on Skinner's though he spoke to the boy. "Yeah, I think so."

Davy gave an exasperated sigh. He slowly came into the room and dropped to the floor next to them. "Tommy says his parents do that stuff all the time, too. It's really gross."

Skinner laughed. "It's gross at your age. You'll change your mind as you get older."

Davy shook his head. "No way!" Then he added, "Are we all okay now?"

Skinner shared a silent message with Krycek. "Yeah. I think we're all going to be okay."

They were going to get curtains for the windows in the next days, but Krycek found he rather liked the light from the reflection off the snow that shadowed their bedroom. Enough light so that he could see Skinner coming out of the darkened bathroom, not wearing any "protective" underwear.

Enough light so that Skinner, even without his glasses, could make out the welcoming leer as he approached the bed. He slipped under the covers and reached for Krycek.

"Shit!" Krycek gasped, "You're cold," and tried to pull out of Skinner's arms.

"And you're nice and warm. Better than a hot water bottle." Skinner entwined his legs in Krycek's, keeping him close. "What do you expect? I'm coming to you naked in a Vermont bedroom in the middle of winter. Of course, I'm going to be cold."

Skinner cuddled close to Krycek who was now resigned to his role as bed-warmer. "Well, you could keep that cold on your side of the bed. Shit, now I'm freezing."

Skinner's grin was a match for Krycek's earlier leer. "Maybe I should do something about that?"

"Maybe you should...Oh!"

Skinner had slipped quickly under the covers and found Krycek's cock, flaccid against his thigh. Not for long. Skinner's mouth played happily with it, his hands gleefully exploring the skin of Krycek's thighs, his balls, his ass until Krycek's gasps turned into moans and he came. Skinner loudly slurped him clean and then came back up. "Warm enough now?"

Krycek opened his eyes to find Skinner propped up watching him, his cheerful glee irritating enough for him to push Skinner onto his back. "My turn now."

Skinner thought himself pretty good at giving head. No one had ever complained; he had even had a few compliments. But he had nothing on Alex Krycek. Damn, he thought at one point, he really would have to pay attention and pick up a few pointers. Next time. This time...damn, it was hard to think, never mind make notes.

Krycek drew it out, not just to show off what he could do, but to repay Skinner a little for the night when Skinner had brought him to the edge of release so often and then backed away.

Later, lying next to the man softly snoring, Krycek wondered at the fun he had had tonight, blowing a man for the pleasure of it, teasing and not having to worry about paying for the teasing. Having been catered to before he did the catering. He allowed himself to move a little closer to this man who, crazy as it seemed, actually wanted him.

The next morning, Davy was very quiet. Both Skinner and Krycek had reassured him that he had nothing to worry about. That his new school was going to be fine. Well, his papa had sounded confident. Alex had shrugged and reminded him that he, Krycek, had never experienced what he was going through, but that they were survivors, both of them.

He ate his breakfast cereal slowly, hoping to delay their leaving for school.

Upstairs, the men were getting dressed. Skinner had pulled out a Hugo Boss that he had usually worn for high-level meetings where someone had to be impressed. Krycek was trying to find the least obvious of his clothing. He wasn't certain why Skinner was insisting that he come along. What the hell did he know about first days at school?

"No, not that. The black jeans and that black sweater you picked up before we left D.C."

Krycek raised an eyebrow. "I wear those and I'll look like what I am."

Skinner nodded. "Precisely."

Krycek didn't understand but he pulled the black sweater out of the drawer that was his until they brought some more furniture.

"Alex. Think about it. It's the middle of the week, over two months into the school year. Davy is not only new, but in their eyes, he's a city kid who's moved into the country. Into their territory. He lives with a gay couple who are also new to town. How this day starts for him will probably determine the rest of his school life in this town."

Krycek bit his lower lip as he thought. "Good cop, bad cop?"

Skinner smiled. "Think of the fun you're going to have intimidating a principal and teacher."

Actually, the first person Krycek got to intimidate was the school secretary who took one look at him and went scurrying into the office to warn the principal that the new student had arrived. She made very certain to be as far back as possible from Krycek as he followed Skinner and Davy into the office.

The man behind the desk was more than surprised at the two men who entered his office. Of course, Sally Benson had informed anyone who would listen that she had sold the old Farmer place to a man who came equipped with a child and another man. She had also added that the one that she'd met was very male. Tom Derrick had been expecting that she had exaggerated a bit. Sally's idea of a macho man was that SNAG on "Dharma and Greg".

The first man who stepped in had him mentally apologizing to Sally. The second explained why Mrs. Moffett was acting the way she was.

The boy was polite, offered his hand to shake when his father introduced him. The man in black merely gave a short nod.

"I'm pleased to welcome you to Middlebury Public School, David."

"Daveed."

Mr. Derrick looked at the man in black. "Daveed," he corrected himself.

"Davy will do fine," interjected the boy's father.

Mr. Derrick decided that he preferred to deal solely with the father and wondered if there was a way he could ask the other to leave.

"This is Alex Krycek," explained the father. "He's Davy's uncle and also his legal guardian."

Mr. Derrick tried to smile and knew that there was no way he was going to get his wish.

"There are some forms that will need to be filled and then we'll take Davy down to Mrs. Morgan's room. We received his school reports by fax on Friday. Mrs. Morgan teaches the enriched program."

Mr. Derrick handed the forms for personal information to the father and examined the child who was sitting very quietly, watching the proceedings with those eyes that had to come from his mother's side of the family. The uncle had the same eyes, but colder, harder.

"I see that you've indicated that you're retired, Mr. Skinner. May I inquire from what?"

The father recapped his fountain pen and sat back. "From the FBI, Mr. Derrick."

"Ah, you're our first FBI agent, Mr. Skinner."

"Assistant Director."

Mr. Derrick looked at the child who had spoken.

"Papa wasn't an agent, he was Assistant Director."

Mr. Derrick held his breath. A gay agent was one thing, but an Assistant Director? He looked at the father who was wearing a suit which probably cost far more than what he made in a month. Darn, the child was not exaggerating.

"And is Mr. Krycek also with the FBI?" Might as well get all the news at one time, he thought.

Mr. Skinner smiled and glanced over at the man in black who merely looked back at the now retired Assistant Director of the FBI. "Alex's work, I'm afraid, is still classified and will probably always remain so. For the record, let us just say that he too is retired."

Yes, thought Mr. Derrick as he stood up to escort the trio to Mrs. Morgan's class, let us say so and let us indeed hope so.

While Davy hung up his outdoor clothes in the locker that had been assigned to him outside of his new classroom, Mr. Derrick knocked on the door.

Mrs. Morgan was one of the stall worth members of his staff. She had moved here from Burlington ten years ago, bringing with her a wealth of experience and had proven fairly popular with the children she taught. She was stern but could laugh when it was important, had high standards that the students strived hard to reach and knew the worth of sparingly used praise. Nothing much frazzled her. Mr. Derrick wondered how she would react to the adults who accompanied the child.

It began badly.

Leave it to the Ferguson boy to open his mouth without thinking. Just like his mother. Mary Louise Gagnon still put her mouth into gear before her brain.

As Davy entered the room, Frank called out, "Is that the new fag kid?"

Mrs. Morgan looked horrified. Mr. Derrick glanced over his shoulder, nowhere near as calm as he projected. Before he had time to say anything, the man in the suit entered and Mr. Derrick had no trouble seeing the Assistant Director. Thankfully, neither did Frank.

"We will discuss this later, Frank," Mrs. Morgan's tone left no doubt that the discussion was not going to be a happy one for Frank. "But right now, I will just say that you have greatly disappointed me."

But no one was watching, probably not even listening to Mrs. Morgan. Because the uncle had entered the room and had brought with him all the sense of danger that Mr. Derrick had sensed on meeting him.

The entire room fell silent.

As if examining the room, the man took his time and strolled his way to the back of the room, all eyes, adult and child, on him.

Frank, Mr. Derrick was pleased to note out of the corner of an eye, looked suddenly very remorseful.

"This is Mr. Krycek. He's Davy's uncle," he told Mrs. Morgan and the class.

Mrs. Morgan nodded at the man at the back of her classroom. The man nodded back.

"Davy," his voice was soft, not difficult to hear in the stillness of her classroom. "If you have any trouble of any kind, you're to tell me." He looked around the room, not in a threatening way, she later had to admit, though she doubted that Frank or any other of the children whose parents may have made comments about the new boy's family set-up would remember it that way. "Understand?"

All eyes shifted to the new boy who had barely noticed his uncle's behaviour

Davy nodded his head. "Yes, Alex. I understand."

The uncle casually made his way back to the front and the man waiting for him with a rueful expression on his face. Mrs. Morgan watched as a message was exchanged and the uncle shrugged.

"I can assure you that there won't be any trouble," she smiled at the child who was now curiously looking around the classroom. She assumed that the child was used to these displays and wasn't bothered by them. "Perhaps you would like to take the desk that I've set up for you next to Barbara-Ann. She lives quite close to your new home, I believe. Will you be going home for lunch? Yes? I'm certain that Barbara-Ann will be happy to show you the way."

It was her classroom and she was now going to take back control of it. "Gentlemen," her tone very schoolmistress, "we really do need to be getting back to our math work."

Mr. Derrick nodded and indicated to the two men that they should leave. Mr. Skinner smiled at her, thanked her for allowing them to interrupt their work, nodded to the boy and followed Tom Derrick out of the room. The uncle looked at her and then, to the gasping surprise of everyone of her students—and a few giggles from one or two of the braver girls—he came up to her, took her hand in one of his gloved ones and raised it to his mouth for one of those incredibly romantic European hand kisses. "If Davy behaves inappropriately, please, do let us know."

And with that she understood that he was apologizing for monopolizing her class. Well, maybe terrifying them was a better description, but looking over at Frank who was getting far too spoiled by his parents since he had been identified as gifted, that might not be such a bad thing. One sure result would be that Davy would be allowed time to settle in before he was tested by the other children.

"So, did you enjoy intimidating a class filled with kids?"

Krycek snorted. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do?"

Skinner grinned then turned his attention to the road. He pulled into their driveway, parked the SUV and turned off engine.

"I don't see why we had to take this thing," muttered Krycek, getting out. "I mean, the school isn't even five blocks away."

Skinner merely grinned, unlocked the front door to their house and let Krycek precede him in.

"A five minute walk..."

Krycek didn't finish his complaint as Skinner shoved him against the wall and took his mouth roughly with his own.

"Wha...?" Not that he had any complaints, Krycek thought, but...

"The kid is out of the house," said Skinner by way of explanation, pulling back just enough to watch Krycek's face.

"Yeah, so?"

Skinner cocked an eyebrow and grinned lasciviously and suddenly Krycek caught on. "Oh. Oh!" and his grin matched Skinner's. And then Skinner found himself back against the wall and his mouth being taken possessively. While Krycek was busy, Skinner stripped the leather jacket off him, tossed it to one side as he also began toeing off his own boots.

Krycek was more occupied with Skinner's belt then the button on his fly, the zipper.

They moved slowly up the stairs, scattering clothing, footwear on the steps, the bannister, the hallway floor. Hugo Boss would not have approved of the way his suit was tossed here and there to the floor.

Both men were naked by the time they made their way into their bedroom.

"How much time do we have?" gasped Krycek, head back as Skinner sucked hard on a nipple.

"Couple of hours," muttered Skinner. "Now you can scream all you want."

"Oh, yeah? Maybe I don't scream." Krycek worked off the straps that held the prosthesis. Skinner took it from him, carefully placed it and his glasses out of harm's way then tipped Krycek backwards onto the bed.

"I seem to remember that you did, one night."

"That," Krycek pulled Skinner down on top of him, gasping at the sudden weight on his chest, "was an aberration on my part."

Skinner grinned wickedly, all the way down to Krycek's cock. "Let's just see about that, shall we?"

"Gonna cuff me?" Krycek raised his hips, rubbing hard against Skinner's groin.

"Another time. This time, I want to feel your hand on me." Skinner pushed back just as hard. Krycek moaned and then, catching Skinner's self-satisfied smirk, let the feral side of himself loose.

They both screamed.

Davy came pounding up the stairs and down the veranda to the kitchen door.

"So, how did the morning go?"

Alex was sitting sprawled in a chair by the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. He wasn't wearing his working clothes any more, thought Davy. Just jeans and a t-shirt. Papa wasn't wearing his work stuff either. Sweats and a henley.

Both of them, thought Davy as he hung his outdoor clothes onto the hook that Papa had put up for him, looked really relaxed.

"I like Mrs. Morgan," he said. Then he answered what he knew would be their next question, "She's making Frank write a composition on prejudice."

He snickered as he sat down at the table and grabbed his glass of milk, chugging a good portion down.

"Did Barbara-Ann walk with you?" Papa asked.

He checked out his sandwich. Roast beef with ketchup. Sliced really thin. Just as he liked it.

"No. She cried after you left. Said her mother wouldn't be happy if she did." He didn't catch the reaction of the two men. "Slaven says she does that all the time. The crying. And that her mother doesn't like her," he imitated someone, "'associating with the locals'."

"Who's Slaven?" asked Alex.

Davy chewed quickly, anxious to get out this bit of information.

"Don't choke yourself," Papa said, sitting down with his sandwich. Made with mustard, not ketchup.

"You remember the kids who were watching us the day we moved in? Well, that was Slaven and his brother and sisters. He has two of them. Brothers and sisters, I mean. They live just down the street, the brick house on the corner? He's my age and," his voice rose with excitement, "he speaks Russian!"

Papa grinned at him. "So, the morning seems to have been a success. Do you think you're going to like this school more than the old one in D.C.?"

Davy shrugged around his mouthful. Papa didn't like it when he talked with his mouth full. Come to think of it, Alex hadn't either. "Mrs. Morgan says that my math skills are excellent and so is my reading. She was pleased about the French. Some of the kids take that and others take Spanish. But Slaven and I are the only ones who speak Russian as well," he beamed, proud of the fact.

"How come Slaven speaks Russian?" Alex had eaten all of his sandwich. Papa would be happy. Alex hadn't eaten all that much when he'd arrived.

Davy finished his milk. "His mother teaches some Russian stuff at the College. And his father stays at home with the kids. He's a writer of some kind."

Papa was smiling at Alex. "Considering all the information you seem to have picked up in such a short time, I was wondering if you knew what Slaven's last name is?"

D'uh, thought Davy, though he didn't say it aloud. Papa wasn't impressed with that expression. "Rush. He writes poetry, Slaven says."

The sound of footsteps pounding on the veranda caught everyone's attention. A head appeared in the bottom half of the kitchen door window. As Davy crammed the last of his cookie into his mouth, Papa opened the door to Slaven whose mouth showed the remains of whatever dessert he had eaten. Something chocolate, thought Davy.

"Hi. I'm Slaven."

Davy held his breath as Alex looked the boy over carefully. Slaven was about the same height as him, but his face was more slavic than his. He hoped Alex and Papa wouldn't disapprove of his new friend.

Slaven's large brown eyes were watching them excitedly. "My parents say that if you're not doing anything this aft, maybe you'd like to come for tea. Around three. If you'd...WOW! You don't have an arm!"

All eyes went to Alex who hadn't put back on his prosthesis.

"Oh, yeah," Davy said, casually.

"Yeah, but he had two this morning."

"He has a fake one he puts on when he wants," explained Davy, sitting on the floor, pulling on his boots.

"Cool, man!" enthused Slaven. Then he turned serious. "Davy, did you ask them?"

Davy shook his head. "They kept on asking questions about school and Papa doesn't like me to talk with my mouth full."

Slaven nodded, expression commiserating.

"Ask us what, Davy?" Papa was wearing that face he wore when he was trying not to laugh at something.

"Can he come over after school and play with Gorky and me?" Slaven and Davy stood side by side, eyes brilliant with anticipation.

"Is Gorky your brother?" Alex raised an eyebrow.

Slaven and Davy exchanged a look. Sometimes adults weren't very bright.

"No," explained Davy, "Gorky is Slaven's dog."

"Ah," said Papa.

Davy hoped that Papa was going to remember his promise of a dog. Even if he had told Davy very strongly that he didn't want to hear any more about a dog until they had settled in themselves.

"Tell you what," said Papa, "stop here on the way back, both of you. If we're not here, we'll be at Slaven's."

The door slammed shut behind the two cheering boys.

They walked down to the Rush house around three.

"So, what do you want me to be this time?" asked Krycek as he looked over the big three-storey brick house on the corner.

"Yourself. On your best behaviour. We're being vetted but we're doing our own bit of vetting as well."

Krycek frowned. "What if we don't pass muster? Does that mean Slaven won't be allowed to 'associate' with Davy?"

Skinner shrugged. "Don't look at me, I don't know. I'm new to this parent-vetting thing."

"Didn't happen in D.C.?"

"Wasn't that kind of school. Wasn't that kind of situation."

There was a van parked in the driveway. Several years old, thought Krycek Shit! Five kids. How do they do it? He felt he was walking barefoot around broken glass where Davy was concerned.

Before they reached the door, a dog barked excitedly and the door was opened by a tall, slender woman who had the cheekbones of a Tartar and masses of unruly curly red-brown hair. She was smiling at them. She was also extremely pregnant.

Shit! thought Krycek. Six kids?

"Hello. You must be Davy's parents. Come in. I'm Natasha."

The voice was lightly accented. Krycek allowed Skinner to go in first.

"Walter Skinner," he said, offering his hand. "This is Alex Krycek, Davy's uncle."

"Natasha Sevastjana Katayev-Rush." She smiled and switched to Russian. "Good day. I'm so pleased to meet you both. Come in, come in."

St. Petersburg, thought Krycek.

The dog began barking loudly from behind a closed door.

"Do you mind?" she asked, pointing to the door.

"The famous Gorky?" Skinner grinned, shaking his head.

"Brace yourselves," was the only warning they got as she opened the door and a large rug came charging out excitedly.

"A sheepdog!"

Krycek took a step back as the animal happily gave a quick once over to the visitors.

Gorky barely bothered to give Skinner a token sniff-over then he turned his attention to Krycek. To everyone's surprise, the dog reared up and placed his front paws on Krycek shoulders, happily licking his face.

"Gorky! Down!"

The dog immediately obeyed the stern voice but refused to leave Krycek's side.

"I'm so sorry, he usually isn't so enthusiastic about greeting people he doesn't know. Charlie!" she called up the stairs, "bring a wet face cloth with you. Gorky seems to be very fond of our new neighbours."

Charles Rush was as slender as his wife, with a strong resemblance to Gorky. As neat and put- together as his wife seemed, he was the opposite. Skinner decided that if ever there was a walking stereotype of the absentminded professor, Charles Rush was it.

The house seemed to be a mixture of the neat and tidy interspersed with disordered and cluttered. A well-developed balance that seemed to work for the people in this house and was comfortable for visitors who were prepared not to be too fussy.

Natasha Katayev-Rush taught both Russian Language and Literature courses at the College during the school year as well as during the summer session that was dedicated solely to the teaching of languages. Charles Rush taught a couple of courses of poetry at the College during the academic year, then led poetry-writing seminars at Bread Loaf during the summer. They both looked a little askance when Skinner revealed what position he had retired from, but readily accepted Krycek's explanation that he had retired from "doing a little of this and a little of that." Natasha Katayev-Rush had stared at him for a long moment and then nodded her head knowingly, exchanging a message with Krycek that only he understood.

Gorky had been exiled to the kitchen and so had the pleasure of greeting all the children, Davy included, when they arrived from school. The two eldest, a boy and a girl, were in high school. They grabbed some of the cake that had been served and headed upstairs to get a start on homework. The twins, also a boy and a girl, were in second grade.

"I'm afraid that this one too will be twins," laughed Natasha Katayev-Rush.

"Seven! They're going to have seven kids around," Krycek muttered to Skinner as they walked home, a happy Davy running on ahead of them.

Skinner grinned. "Yet they seem sane."

"Do you come from a large family?" Krycek didn't often ask personal questions. He had done his research on Skinner long ago, but his family beginnings hadn't been considered important so he hadn't gone much past his time with the Marines.

Skinner laughed. "Five kids, two parents."

Krycek thought a moment. "They still around?"

Skinner shrugged. "My parents both died within months of each other about ten years ago. The rest of us are all scattered around the world. We try to get together once every five years."

"Do they know about..."

Skinner stopped walking. "About?"

Krycek turned to face him. "About Davy?"

Skinner nodded. "I sent them all an e-mail or a letter and pictures about four months ago. They were all very happy for me."

Krycek waited.

"About us? Well, I did indicate that it might be a possibility." Skinner started up their driveway. "The final judgement on that is still pretty much in the air. So far it's two I-have-to-think-about- that, one definitely-your-business-as-long-as-you're-happy and one no answer. But that could be for many reasons, one of which is my brother is not accessible by internet. And mail getting to him is a 50-50 proposition."

"Skinner?"

Skinner looked back at the man still standing on the sidewalk.

"The dog you promised Davy, is he going to get it?"

Skinner grinned. "Natasha has a colleague who finds homes for abandoned animals. Seems she has a couple of litters of pups that are about ready to leave home. I thought that we'd go take a look Saturday."

Krycek nodded and moved to join Skinner. "Any sheepdogs in that?" he asked casually.

"No, I believe there's nothing that big available."

"Thank god," muttered Krycek as he passed Skinner.

Skinner roared as he draped a sympathetic arm around Krycek's shoulders.

The dog was a three-month old beagle mixture pup that fell in love with Davy almost as soon as Davy patted it.

They nearly didn't get the pup. Not because of Davy and his age, but because Skinner had to admit that he had no recent pet experience. That Krycek had never had a pet was an additional negative they had to overcome.

"You do know that pups require loving discipline, that they chew things. He's been trained to ask for the door, but that doesn't mean he's not going to urinate on the floor at the most inopportune times. And both pups and dogs require a lot of walking and exercise." The short, rotund woman glared at them, fists on hips.

Davy had been listening to their interrogation all the while playing with the pup. "And they need lots of love and attention, especially when they're this young. And because he's part beagle, he's going to need training, too."

The woman switched her interrogation from the adults to the child, impressed with the amount of research he had conducted into the care and training of dogs.

So they got to take Barney home with them, along with a list of items they had to purchase, the name of the local vet who would see to the pup's neutering when it was old enough, a condition all perspective owners had to agree to, in writing.

"Whew!" muttered Skinner as they watched Davy, brimming with excitement, leading the pup on a leash that he certainly did not like to their vehicle. "Reminded me of my old DI."

Krycek nodded. "The Rushes were easier to get by than her. You think she was serious when she said she's going to show up at the house, unannounced, just to see that we're doing things right?"

"Why Barney?" Skinner asked once they were all settled in the car. On the list was a requirement for a dog's seat belt. Right now, they were driving with the pup nervously tucked in by Davy's side.

"I don't know, just seemed to be the right name for him."

Skinner had no intentions of allowing the dog to sleep in Davy's room, much to the disappointment of both boy and pup. And the pup was far more vocal in his disappointment. After the third night of listening to the pup howl off and on all night long, Barney got to join his young master in his bedroom. On a special pad that had been bought for him, as per instructions. He quickly learnt to start the night on the pad, looking up sleepily when either of the men checked in on the boy on their way to bed. Once that was over, Barney was free to join Davy on the bed, wriggle under the blankets and sleep all night through, tucked in under the boy's arm.

To Krycek's amazement and then glee, Skinner pretended not to notice.

It was harder not the notice when the Christmas tree nearly came tumbling down when Barney decided to go exploring, but they survived that as well.

And he was proving to be very popular with the kids in the neighbourhood, some older, some younger than Davy. The urge to see and pat, then play with the new puppy helped Davy earn ready acceptance. And the sight of the adults walking the dog around the neighbourhood helped introduce them to their neighbours as well, at least on a nodding basis.

Davy and Slaven quickly became an inseparable team. So, one spring afternoon, at recess, when one of the older boys teased Slaven about his wuss father staying home, playing nursemaid to the babies, Davy had to enter the fray which had Mr. Derrick calling parents to his office.

Krycek sat with Slaven and Davy in the outer office while the Rushes and Skinner discussed the situation with the principal. Slaven had a swollen lip from where he had bitten himself when he'd been pushed to the ground. Davy was sporting his first shinner. Well, thought Krycek, the first that the boy could remember. He'd refused to go in with Skinner for several reasons, one of which was that he didn't know how things like this were dealt with in this world. In the one he'd come from, if he'd been involved in a fight that had not been sanctioned, he'd have been caned. If they thought they were going to do that to Davy...

"You two need to learn how to defend yourselves."

Slaven sighed heavily. "Mom says that she's against that kind of stuff. That civilized people discuss their differences of opinion."

Davy nodded. "Papa says," having endured one lecture on the subject in his bedroom the night before, "that fighting never solves anything."

Krycek caught himself from scoffing out loud.

There was no caning. Only a day's suspension for all three boys, a day to be spent composing an explanation, for Slaven and Davy, as to why fighting was not the way to resolve a problem, and for the boy who had started the whole thing, one on the different forms families in the 21st Century came in and why this was a good thing for society.

Skinner checked in on Davy who was labouring over his assignment. All in all, the boy had handled the entire episode well, he thought. Even if he'd gone in, with no thought of his own safety, to defend a friend whom he'd seen overwhelmed by a situation. He'd accepted Skinner's lecture on fighting without trying to wriggle out of his part in the confrontation. And he was working hard on trying to come up with other ways the situation could have been dealt with.

With a kiss on his head and a squeeze of a shoulder, Skinner left him to get on with it.

As he passed Krycek's office door, Skinner realized that he had another problem to deal with: Krycek and his reaction to all this.

There had been some coldness last night after he'd had his talk with Davy. Actually, Krycek's first reaction had been to go out and deal with the kid who had dared blacken Davy's eye. Skinner had put a quick end to that but he'd also realized, from Krycek's mutterings on hearing they were required to show up at the school the next morning, that Krycek was expecting some reaction that he had no intention of putting up with, even if he had to take on Skinner's 'control of Davy'.

And after that, Skinner had spent a great deal of the night thinking about the situation here at the house. About how Krycek never involved himself in Davy's life except as a casual participant. It was Skinner who made the house rules, who reminded Davy of them, who enforced them if need be. Krycek never commented, either positively or negatively. He just stood by and let Skinner deal with matters.

But today, when they had come out of the principal's office, Krycek had placed himself between them and the two boys, as though ready to defend them.

Ready, when Skinner thought about it, to grab Davy and take off.

Now, watching the man sitting in his chair at his computer, Skinner realized what Krycek reminded him of. Of Davy that first time he had had to scold him about something. He'd found the boy sitting in just that position on the edge of his bed, shoulders hunched, eyes concentrating on his shoes.

The boy had found the courage to ask, "Are you going to send me away now?" And Skinner had wanted to cry at the fear and discouragement in the child's voice. It had taken him a long time to explain to the boy—to make him truly understand—that disagreements, arguments, and yes, the occasional scolding would sometimes occur between them. And that they were perfectly normal. That he didn't love Davy less, or wanted him to go away: that would never happen.

He knocked on the door, following a rule he had set up so that Davy didn't take them by surprise.

Krycek raised his head but said nothing.

"May I come in or are you busy?"

At first Krycek didn't respond. Skinner was about to head for his office when Krycek hit a couple of keys and gestured with his head. Skinner came in and took a seat on the couch that Krycek had added to the room when they had gone off to furnish it. It didn't have the look Skinner had once thought it might. Instead of being very modern, the style that, for some reason, he had associated with Krycek, it was mainly wood, of a certain age. A large roll-top desk they had found in a second-hand shop filled one wall while wooden bookcases filled another. The wall opposite the desk housed the long couch that they had found in the same shop: a dark green leather. It was then, when Skinner had pulled out his wallet to pay, that he had found out that Krycek had money of his own. How much, he still didn't know but more than enough to furnish his office, to pick up one of the latest computers with all the bells and whistles, to insist on paying his share of the expenses around the house.

Looking around the room, Skinner realized that the shelves in the bookcases were only sparsely filled. Even after five months here. That though Davy's room had already needed a new shelving unit for books and games and other things that Krycek had purchased—always, now that Skinner thought about it, after checking with Skinner if he could—Krycek's office still did not have a sense of permanence about it.

Damn, thought Skinner. He should have noticed before now.

Krycek turned around and watched him with those expressionless eyes of long ago. He said nothing, waiting for Skinner to break the silence.

Skinner leaned back on the couch. "You remember working with Mulder?"

The question took Krycek by surprise. He nodded slowly as though unsure of where Skinner was going.

"Remember how one minute you were impressed by the way his mind worked and then the next you wanted to strangle him because he'd tried to dump you again?"

Krycek nodded. "Yeah, I remember that."

Skinner sighed his understanding. "But you never did. Even when he drove you so crazy that you dreamt about killing him, you didn't. Because he was your partner and the good times, the times when he made you smile or laugh, when he taught you something about something you didn't know balanced out all the other times."

"Until I betrayed him." Said coldly. "And you." Said even more coldly.

Skinner shrugged. "Even then, Alex, you didn't. You didn't kill me, really kill me, and you didn't kill him. You went out of your way at some expense to yourself to keep us alive."

"What's your point?"

"My point is," Skinner leaned forward, reached out with a hand and pulled on Krycek's arm until he joined him on the couch, "that in any relationship there are good times and difficult times. And the difficult times are most often brought about because the people in the relationship are not talking to each other. Making assumptions based on opinions that may or may not be valid."

God, thought Skinner, if Sharon were a fly on the wall, she'd be roaring her head off. Old Stone Face talking about the importance of talking in a relationship.

"Alex, when you left Davy with me, we weren't even sure you would be coming back. Kids need rules and regulations. It makes them feel secure."

Krycek, sitting next to Skinner, arms around himself, softly scoffed.

"Rules and regulations, Alex. Guidelines and boundaries. Not excuses to abuse and beat a child. The same unchanging rules so that a kid knows just how far he can go before suffering the consequences, which are a scolding, a time out or the withdrawal of a privilege. Not rules that change on the whim of a man who gets off on inflicting pain."

Skinner turned enough so that he could watch Krycek's face.

"I'm sorry that once you came back to us, I didn't take the time to discuss all this with you."

Krycek shrugged. "Wouldn't matter. I don't know anything about this kind of life."

"Maybe not, but you are Davy's parent. And you have a say-so in his life and how it's going to be lived. And I apologize for excluding you in all the decisions I've taken about Davy and his life since you've come back. That's going to change. As of right now."

Krycek looked up. "Would you have let Derrick cane Davy for fighting?"

Skinner was shocked. "Cane Davy? What..." And then things that he'd read on the CD flashed through his mind. "Jesus, Alex, I'd have killed the bastard if he'd even said anything like that out loud! Cane Davy..." he sputtered.

Krycek actually relaxed. "Yeah, well, me too."

Skinner slipped into his A.D. voice. "That is one thing we are going to have to agree on right now, Alex. There will never be any physical punishment in this house. Never. Davy is not going to be hit by either one of us, ever. That has to be agreed upon right now. Understand."

Krycek nodded. "Agreed."

Skinner breathed hard for a moment then sighed loudly. "Okay. That's one thing out of the way. Now about yesterday. I should have asked you if you wanted to deal with the situation."

Krycek shook his head, more determinedly the more Skinner spoke.

"Yes, I just assumed that you agreed with me and I shouldn't have done that. I should have discussed the situation with you and together, we should have spoken to Davy. Why are you still shaking your head?"

Krycek took a moment to angle himself in the opposite corner. "First of all, I have no idea how to handle this or any of these situations. I have very little experience with kids. Even as a kid, they tended to keep us apart so that we wouldn't form any attachments. Or maybe they were afraid we would gang up on them. I don't know. All I do know is I find all this talk about fighting never solving anything a little ironic coming from an ex-Marine who fought his way up the ranks of the FBI and who boxes as a hobby. That's all."

Skinner opened his mouth but nothing came out. He closed it and sat back. "Shit! You're right. Still, if Nam taught me anything, it's that fighting doesn't mean victory or winning."

"Maybe. But there are things worth fighting for. Nam must have taught you that if nothing else. Whether you do it with your fists or words, at one point if you're attacked, you do have to stand up for yourself. That's all Davy and Slaven were doing. Standing up for something. In this case, it was Davy going to Slaven's support, but I don't doubt that if we had been the ones slandered, if Davy had gone in swinging to defend us, Slaven would have jumped in just as quickly as Davy did for him."

Skinner closed his eyes. Damn, this parenting thing was not fucking easy. Neither was this taking another opinion into account. "Did you see the size of that kid? He made three of them together easily."

Krycek nodded. "That makes them idiots, not potential assassins. Or is that what you're worried about? That you've remembered that Davy is me."

Skinner opened his eyes. "You were not born an assassin. You were made into one. Davy is no more a potential assassin than...than Barney will ever accept sleeping on his bed all night." He was pleased to see a hint of a smile on Krycek's face at that. "The kid could have hurt them both badly."

Krycek nodded. "That's why they need to learn to fight properly."

"And so?"

Krycek hesitated.

"Alex, I'm serious. I want to hear what you think. This is important, not just for the two of us, but for Davy as well."

"There's a karate club at the College, one evening a week."

Skinner thought about that. "Responsible fighting."

Krycek said nothing, just watched as a slow smile lit Skinner face. "Yeah."

With a quick movement, Skinner pulled Krycek over to him, tugged until Krycek was in his arms, head resting on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Alex. I should have involved you right away. He's your kid as well as mine."

Krycek shrugged. "I just don't want him hurt," he muttered against Skinner's neck.

"I know."

They sat that way for a few minutes. "Alex?"

"Hmm?"

"We have to talk about us."

"What about us?"

Skinner pulled back so that he could see Krycek's face. "Alex, why do I have the impression that you're ready to leave at a moment's notice?"

Krycek tried to pull out of Skinner's arms, but they merely tightened around him. "Alex. We've been living together for five months now. Do you realize that you still call me Skinner? Never Walter. Or Walt."

Krycek stilled. He looked up at the man watching him.

"Alex, do I make you feel like a visitor, not part of this family?"

Krycek rested his head against Skinner's shoulder and thought before he started speaking, carefully finding his words.

"To be honest, I don't know what I feel like. Ski..." He stopped, took a breath and started again. "Walter. Walter, I don't have any memories of family. I don't know what you expect of me. I think you like having me around but I also think, one day, you're going to wake up and ask yourself what the fuck you're doing with an assassin, with a man who played games with people's lives. People you care deeply about."

Walter rested his cheek on Alex's head. "I thought we'd dealt with that, Alex."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, well, the rules were forever changing in my world. It's what I'm used to."

"Well, the rules in this world, at least in this house, won't change. I want you in my life, Alex. Not just because of Davy. But because I want you. Let's start with the obvious. I want you in my bed because I get great pleasure out of touching you and of having you touch me. And the sex is marvelous, whether we go at it like otters or just bring each other off."

Alex snorted, but didn't deny it. Walter grinned and went on.

"I want you in my life because I like the man that you've turned out to be. The one you kept hidden under the thick skin you grew years ago. The one that you let me and Davy see.

"And, you know, I think that part of the problem we're having right now is that we are two men who are use to being at work almost twenty-four hours a day. The last five months were necessary. We both needed to adjust to the move, to this new life. To the fact that we both will not be returning to the kind of work that once dominated our lives. Let's face it, Alex, you needed the time to get yourself back into shape—remember what you looked like when you came back? - and I needed the time to remind my body what it's like living without almost continual stress.

"Well, we've done that and now we're bored. I think, Alex, that it's time we found ourselves some work to do. Something that will give our minds something else to do other than tip-toe around each other and focus on Davy. Hell, the kid needs breathing space, too. Otherwise we're going to stifle him."

"You got anything specific in mind?" Alex wriggled so that he was more comfortable.

"Yeah. Well, Quantico wants me to produce a training manual about methodology for them. Maybe give a couple of lectures a year to special groups."

Alex grunted. "Methodology. Sounds right up your alley," he finally said.

"What about you, Alex? What would you like to do?"

Alex hesitated. "Natasha wants me to do some tutoring this summer at the College. In Russian."

"And would you like to do that?"

"Can you see me in the classroom?"

Walter thought Alex sounded as though he needed reassurance. "Yes. Why not? I've seen you with Davy and the other kids when you're explaining something about the computer to them. You're good at explaining things clearly. Language shouldn't be any different."

"The College is going to want a security check on me as well as other things."

Walter grinned. "So, what's the problem? Just contact the Gunmen. They'll take care of that. At the same time, we can invite them to come up for a visit so that they can check out the area."

Alex grinned back. "Are you sure you want them up here? From what Davy's told me, they won't be happy with our security system."

Walter shrugged. "So they can play with that at the same time. Besides, can you see Langley and Charlie discussing conspiracies?"

Alex laughed. "Natasha will kill you!"

"Why will Slaven's Mom kill Papa?"

The two men looked up to see the child watching them from the doorway. Walter held out a hand and Davy came in and joined then at the foot of the couch.

"You know how Natasha feels about sensible things? Well, Charlie believes that things like ghosts exist. And if the Gunmen do come for a visit..."

Davy giggled. "Mr. Rush gets almost as loud as Ringo does when he gets excited."

"Not to mention," added Alex, "that Natasha doesn't approve of such things."

Davy suddenly got very serious. "She doesn't approve of ghosts and things like that." He looked up at the two men. "I guess she wouldn't approve of clones, too."

Alex reached out his hand and pulled the boy on top of him. Walter decided that Alex had to be the one to deal with this and sat back.

"Natasha doesn't approve of things that she's never met. If she'd meet a ghost, a nice one, then she'd be fine with that. But she's never met one, so she doesn't approve. Now you, she knows you. She's likes you as a friend for Slaven. She's had you over for supper. She approves of you.

"If we went to her and told her that you were a clone, she would probably raise her eyebrow really high..." Alex did a fine imitation of Natasha's raised eyebrow. "...and look at you in that way she does when one of you kids is explaining how Gorky and Barney got all wet and muddy..." Alex added the look. Davy giggled and Walter laughed. "...and then she'd say..." Alex cleared his throat and imitated Natasha's cadence to a T. "...'And what does all this have to do with the price of fish in Odessa?'" Alex waited until Davy's giggles stopped. "And it wouldn't matter in the least to her or to Slaven. Or to any of the Rushes. But, yes, it might to others so that's why we don't talk about it, Davy. And besides, it's not anybody's business but ours."

"See," whispered Walter, "you can do this parenting thing."

Alex smiled sheepishly but was pleased. However, Davy was frowning again. He'd pulled himself up and was sitting on Alex's stomach, a leg to either side. He seemed very pre-occupied with Alex's belt.

"Is there something else you'd like to talk about, Davy?" Walter wondered what was causing that worried look on the child's face.

Davy murmured something, still playing with Alex's belt.

"Davy, you can talk to us about anything you know," Walter added. "We promise we'll always listen."

Davy examined both of their faces. "You sleep together in the same bed."

"Yes," agreed Walter. Dear god, he thought, am I ready for this?

"Do you and Alex have sex, too?"

"Yes," said Alex, "we do. Do you understand what that means?"

Davy looked insulted. "We did reproduction in class, you know. I got an A plus, remember?"

"Yes, you did," Walter braced himself though he smiled at the boy.

"We did all the different ways plants and animals reproduce." Davy sounded still a little insulted.

"Huh-hum," nodded Walter.

"So, I guess what I want to know is," he looked at them directly as though challenging them to tell him the truth, "is one of you going to get pregnant like Mrs. Rush?"

There were two open mouths as two heads shook. "No!" "Never going to happen!"

Walter took a breath and forced himself to ask calmly, "Why, Davy? Do you want a brother or a sister?"

Davy went back to playing with Alex's belt. He thought for several moments before answering. "No. I don't think so. I mean I like going over to Slaven's and playing there, but it can get really noisy what with everyone playing different music and the babies crying and Gorky barking. I like coming back here where I can hear myself think."

"Well," said Alex, voice sincere, "we can promise you that you're never going to have to worry about that."

Davy looked up. "And then I won't have to share you two with anyone."

"Just the three of us, sharing each other with each other." Walter wondered if that was all bothering the child since he was still very serious. "Anything else, Davy?"

Davy stopped playing with the belt and peered up from under his lashes. "Alex, are you staying with us?"

Walter squeezed Alex's shoulder. Poor man, he was going to have to deal with this one also. "Yes, I'm staying. Why are you asking, Davy?"

Davy shrugged and went back to playing with the belt. "Don't know."

Walter nudged. "Is it because Alex and I did something to make you worry, Davy?"

Another shrug.

"Davy? Please." Walter wondered how much he should nudge.

"Alex was angry yesterday and this morning about what happened."

"Yes, he was, but not at you."

Alex reached out and took the boy's hand from his belt. "Davy. Look at me. Why would you think I would leave because of yesterday?"

"I thought," whispered the child, looking at their joined hands, "that you might think that I was too much trouble. I mean, the last time there was a fight about me, you got shot."

Walter winced. Alex shook his head. "That happened because I didn't duck fast enough. And I never thought you were responsible for that in any way, Davy."

"So you're not sorry you found me and stole me?"

"Davy! Never!" Alex pulled the child into his arms and held him tightly against his chest. "That was the very best thing that ever happened to me. Even the getting shot ended up being a good thing. It brought us to Walter and Middlebury and ...and Barney. Davy, if it hadn't been for you, I would probably be dead by now. Never ever think that. I would cut off my good arm rather than let you think that."

Walter watched the child cling to the man. He stroked the small back as he thought how kids carried a heavier load than he'd ever thought possible. And it amazed him how long kids held on to their insecurities no matter what you said to try and convince them otherwise. "In fact, Davy, if he hadn't found you and brought you to me, I'd probably be turning into a real bear at work. Remember how Doctor Fischer told you that you had to see to it that I loosened up? Well, without you, I'd probably be fighting off an ulcer and be ill and ... Damn it, Davy, I can't imagine what my life would be without you. Without the two of you."

After a few minutes, Alex slipped a hand under the child's chin to raise his face. "Davy. This is my fault, isn't it? Listen to me. I'm not very good at this family thing. I'm new at it. You've had more experience being part of a family than I have."

Davy sniffed loudly and allowed Skinner to offer him a tissue. "Are you a clone, too?"

Alex shook his head. "No. Even before I was given to the Consortium, I really didn't have a family."

Walter's hand tightened on his shoulder, as encouragement.

"My parents...they were scientists with the Consortium. They were more interested in their labs than in me. It was a relief to them when the Consortium asked for me. So you see, you're going to have to be very patient with me as I learn about all this stuff. Is that okay?"

Davy sniffed, blew his nose again. He nodded. "I finished my composition for Mr. Derrick. Can we have pizza for supper?"

The quick switch took Alex by surprise. Walter just grinned. "Sounds like a plan. Why don't you go get your composition and read it to us and then we'll order."

"Okay." All smiles, Davy bounced on Alex's stomach and went off to get his work.

"Wha..." Alex was stunned.

Walter patted him on the stomach. "Welcome to the wild and woolly world of childhood. From pregnancy to soul-shattering discussion to pizza all in the space of a few minutes."

Alex sat up, shaking his head.

"By the way, you handled your bit really well. Congratulations."

"I didn't lie to him," Alex was still wondering at Davy's reactions.

"No. He'd have known if you had."

Alex turned to face Walter. "How could he think..."

"He's you, Alex. How could you think that I would wake one day and decide, just like that, I wouldn't want you?"

Alex shrugged.

"Same reason." Walter reached for Alex's head and pulled it to his. His kiss was very thorough.

"You're doing it again," Davy sighed as he came back in.

Walter grinned. "Yes, we are. Get use to it, me boy. Your parents will be discreet but, in this house, we will not hide the fact that we love each other. You can expect to see a lot of hugging and kissing and even cuddling. I mean, after all, why should you be the only recipient, eh?"

Davy condescended to nod. "Well, since it won't make Alex pregnant..."

"Why Alex?" asked Walter, making room on the couch for Davy.

"Well, Mrs. Morgan said that it was the female of the species who had the babies...except for seahorses and Alex isn't a seahorse.'

"Thanks for noticing," muttered Alex.

"That still doesn't answer my question, Davy. Why would you say that Alex would be the one get pregnant? I mean, as you pointed out, he's not a seahorse, but he's also not...'the female of the species'."

Davy looked up from his paper. "Well, Ringo said that you were my father because they had put together all the paper work that said you were, but that Alex was the one who had provided the cells that created me. And that made him my mother."

"When did Ringo explain all that to you?" Walter glared at Alex whose mouth was wide open. If the Gunmen did come for a visit, he was going to have a little talk with Ringo Langley, hopefully before Alex got to him.

"The night they stayed with me 'cause you had to work all night. I heard them talking about clones and I asked them how clones were made. They knew I was a clone so they explained it all to me. About how regular babies were made and how I had been made. I think," he added, in a very thoughtful tone, "that my way is best. The other way sounded really messy."

Alex had to slap Walter on the back to get him to stop choking.

Nevertheless, their family grew.

The Dog Lady, as Davy called the woman with the unwanted dogs, did follow through with her threat to drop in unannounced.

Which was why, one Thursday evening, while Alex was waiting at the College Library for Davy and Slaven to finish with their karate lesson in the College gym, she called and wondered if, considering the amount of back yard that they had, the fact that it really wasn't good for a dog to be an "only dog", they all might like to come up to her farm and see something that she thought might suit all four of them well.

Walter thought about it, indicated that he'd discuss it with Alex and get back to her. He didn't need to discuss it with Davy. Davy never thought there might be too many animals around.

Alex shrugged and offered they might like to see what she had in mind for them before they made any decision.

It was a boxer mix. About a year old. Already trained. Her owners were suddenly expecting a child of their own and had decided that they could care for one but not both.

Barney and Kaiser—not after the old monarchist leader of Germany, but for the fact that she inhaled the rolls if left unattended near some—took a few minutes to sniff each other out. For Barney to indicate that though younger, he was top dog, and that was that. The Krycek-Skinner residence had increased by one dog.

Walter looked around for Alex and finally found him, sitting in one of the low runs with a dog that was warily allowing itself to be stroked.

"Damn!" whispered the Dog Lady. "Well, what do you know?"

The pup was, according to the woman and her vet, an unidentifiable mixture of whatever had given him long legs and a thin body, a mottled shaggy coat that once properly groomed was easy enough to keep tangle-free with a weekly brushing, a long narrow face with drooping ears. The animal had been abandoned somewhere in the area and had lived hard for some time. It had also been hit which was how it had ended up here, front leg in a cast, shaggy coat shaved in spots so that the open wounds could be treated and stitched up.

"He barely allows me to touch him. And he's been here a good three weeks now."

Alex looked up. He didn't have to say anything.

They went home with three dogs.

Kaiser was not fond of bedrooms. She looked over the house carefully and then decided that the couch in the now expanded TV room was hers, though she didn't mind sharing with her humans when they joined her. She was also fond of answering the doors at the slightest sound. They got to know that someone was coming to visit long before they heard footsteps on the veranda. Kaiser was ready to defend her territory but once introduced, she was friendly.

Unlike the other two dogs, Pushkin, Alex's dog, wasn't gregarious. He preferred Alex's company. He'd accept Davy or Walter for a walk, only if Alex wasn't around or if he insisted. Then, with a loud sigh, a sad, pathetic look, head drooping, Pushkin would go out for his exercise. If Alex indicated it was time for a walk, the dog was at the door in a streak, body wriggling in glee at the chance to be with Alex in the outdoors. In either case, once outside, he loved to romp with the other dogs, as long as there were no kids around. Children made him very nervous.

He would have probably loved sleeping on the bed with Alex, but Walter indicated that only he got to share Alex's bed. So, instead, Pushkin took over Alex's office. He ignored the comfortable bed that Alex bought for him, preferring to sleep, curled up, almost like a cat, in the '50's green leatherette chair with the deep arms that Davy had found at a garage sale for the office. It was a tight fit, but that's what he went back to, no matter what else he was offered.

Walter stopped teasing Alex about his cat-dog when they got a visit from the local sheriff and Pushkin suddenly developed a deep-throated rumble as the man approached Alex.

Steve Granger had a son in Davy's school, a grade younger, who took karate with the boys. By then, he had heard the rumours about how one of the new gay couple in town was an ex-FBI big- wig. He'd checked it out himself and, by the end of the school year, the last parents' day, made sure that he "bumped" into the two men. He'd tried to do a background search on the Assistant Director's partner, but had only came up with "Access denied" in too many law enforcement data banks that depended on the FBI's for information. Other information on the man, which the College had been more than happy to accept, seemed just a little too "real" for him. He was a local boy, but he had done his training and gotten his experience with the Chicago Police Department before he'd decided it was best for his marriage, his kids and his own sanity and health to come home.

He invited the two men to come join him and his crew when they took over the local shooting club once a month in order to maintain their firing skills. Not that there was much need for them, but there were still the occasional feud that flamed up in the hills around Ripton and now and then, they did have to deal with the brutal reality of life in the 21st Century.

After a quick but silent exchange between the two men, Skinner agreed for both of them.

Granger was no slouch with a weapon. Neither were his men. Most of them came from the State and had learnt to hunt and handle a rifle at an early age. Skinner, thought Granger, after watching him shoot, was more than decent. He hadn't lost his touch sitting on his ass eight years in a big office. But the partner, that was another story. By the time he was through, Granger knew that there was a reason for those "Access denied" messages. He'd bet his entire retirement fund that the man was a killer. Each bullet fired went exactly where he wanted it to.

"I wonder," he said causally to Skinner as they walked out to their cars, "what I would find if I had the right password to get into his FBI file?"

Skinner stopped and Granger got to meet the Assistant Director. "You'd find that you'd have gotten yourself a lot of trouble for nothing. All you need know about Alex Krycek is that he is my lover and Davy's uncle."

Granger swallowed hard and invited the men to join them every month. Krycek was too good not to hit on for some instruction. Then, at his men's instigation, he invited Skinner to give them a talk on procedures and discovered that the man was quite willing to share, with none of the usual jurisdictional lines drawn.

Still, more than a few of the parents were a little wary of allowing their kids to hang around the old Farmer place. Some of them would never change their minds but enough did when it became obvious that one of the men was always more than willing to supervise the kids when they headed for the swimming hole or to organize some activity to keep them occupied. Especially as the Sheriff's kids were often part of the crowd.

Alex was surprised to find that having lost an arm, having more than a couple of "interesting" scars on his body meant that the kids were quite willing to listen to him when he said something. That summer, every day he was free, usually in the afternoon, he'd round up whatever kids and dogs were about—Pushkin excepted—and head for the river. There, to the awe and fascination of any new kids, he'd remove his arm, strip down to his trunks and jump in.

The older kids learnt that he didn't tolerate anything that might cause trouble. That if they wanted to rough-house, they did so after he and the kids left. Some visiting teenager, very sure of his physical prowess, challenged him on that. After that episode, no one ever tried it again.

Granger pulled into the driveway as Walter came out onto the veranda, hefting a large drink- cooler onto a table that had been set up near the barbecue where the coals were just about ready for the hot dogs. He waited for the man to join him, both of them looking a bit askance at the condition of the back yard.

Granger shook his head. "There have got to be what? twenty kids here at least."

Walter shrugged. "I just check to see that my two are present and accounted for."

Davy was indeed there. With his sidekick, Slaven. And at least five other kids from their class. All of them busy filling up grocery-size plastic bags with leaves, leaves that some of the smaller children, siblings of others in the yard, were raking their way after the various dogs had gone through the pile yet again.

In another corner of the yard, the older Rush kids were setting up a scarecrow with the help of a couple of kids. Walter figured they were whoever the Rush kids were dating this week. The girls from across the street were stapling dry corn stalks to the fence that separated this yard from the neighbour's—who was carefully keeping an eye out to make sure that none of the leaves were making their way back onto his property. The old man finished filling a large orange leaf bag and called over one of the smaller kids who was running about the yard. The child awkwardly waddled over to Davy and his gang who happily took the bag, emptied it onto their pile and handed the bag back to the little girl who cheerfully returned it to the waiting neighbour.

"Where's the Pied Piper?" Granger looked about the yard. "Dylan! Patty!"

Two of his children came running up.

"Back seat of the car."

Walter glanced over his shoulder, wondering what goodies Patricia Anne Granger had sent over to help feed the horde she'd gasped at when she'd dropped off her children. Steve's wife was a firm believer in chocolate. Walter hoped there were some of her brownies in one of those boxes. "Tree house."

Granger looked at the large oak that dominated the back yard. That summer the two men had built a tree house in the deep fork of the oak, under the kids' supervision. It was a true kid's delight. It had a trap door, a ladder and a knotted rope as a means of getting up and down. There was a railing and a covered portion where four boys could camp out comfortably in sleeping bags, though they had discovered one night that nine could squeeze in.

As the Rush sheepdog decided to roll in yet another pile of leaves, a stuffed dummy dropped, hanging down from the tree house, with Alex close behind landing on his feet. "Okay," he tossed back up to the two teenagers who were helping him. "Nice and secured. Let's see what else you've got that we can use."

"Coffee?" offered Walter.

"You two are certifiable," said Granger as he followed Walter into the kitchen.

Walter grinned as he poured out a couple of mugs of coffee. "Well, I have to admit that I didn't have this in mind when I told Davy he could have a few friends over to fix up a Hallowe'en scene in the back yard. I thought maybe a few old sheets as ghosts and some rope as spiders' webs."

Granger shook his head. "The kids are having a real hoot. I can't think of any of their parents, maybe with the exception of the Rushes, who would allow their property to be taken over this way."

Walter smiled. "Well, this way, we know where the neighbourhood kids are. Though, to be honest, since all of them are here, I don't know who the set-up is going to impress tonight."

Granger laughed. "The parents. Who are going to thank you for allowing the kids to do it here and who will go home thankful they don't have to clean up."

"Ah, Alex thought about that. Each kid had to promise to show up after lunch tomorrow to help with the clean up. Or else."

Granger finished his coffee. "Or else what?"

Walter shrugged. "I have no idea. He's never had to follow through on that yet."

As Granger pulled out of the yard, three other kids came charging up the driveway, with a wagon that was heaped high with orange leaf bags. While one pulled the wagon, the other two worked at keeping the bags from rolling off. "Hi, Mr. Skinner. See, we found more. MR. KRYCEK!"

Walter watched as Alex helped the kids unload and open the bags then left them to pour the leaves out while he went to check on the taller kids who were tying the smaller bags of leaves to the bare branches of the two maples in the yard. The youngest Derwent girl, who was about four, caught Alex's attention to show him the pretty leaf she had found. Alex, crouching so that he was face to face with the little girl, examined her leaf as though it were the most important thing going.

Walter grinned. Alex Krycek and dogs and kids. Whoever would have thought it!

He went over to the barbecue and began loading it up with weiners.

"Thought you might like a little help."

Walter greeted Natasha Rush with a thankful smile. "Escaping from the twins?"

"I was up all night with them. They have decided to start teething. Both of them. At the same time. It is now Charlie's turn. Besides," she sighed, helping set out the napkins and condiments, "I remember what it was like in the neighbourhood before you moved in. We often had crowds of children over at our house and all the parents would do to help was drop their kids off and wave as they went off to do something."

Walter grinned. "That doesn't seem to have changed."

Natasha smiled and shook her head. She switched to Russian. "And I have ulterior motives as well. I need to ask Alex which classes he'd like to handle next semester. Now that Yuri's doctor has indicated that he has to take the rest of the academic year off, the shuffle means that we are hoping Alex won't mind taking on a regular course." She glanced over her shoulder. "Or two."

Walter shrugged, speaking less hesitantly in his improving Russian. "Not going to get involved in this. It's his decision. But you know that he's still finding his feet in a classroom. It's not his usual environment. "

She nodded. "But of course." She checked to see that the buns were ready for the hot dogs. "How's the book coming along?"

Voice mockingly stern, slipping back into English, Walter growled, "Showing interest in my tome on Methodology for Quantico is not going to get me to side with you, Natasha Sevastjana Katayev-Rush."

She laughed. "Well, it was worth a try. Will you be going to Virginia for that conference?"

Walter shook his head. "I never thought that they'd pay me what I asked. Which is why I asked it. But they have, so I'm off for three days next week."

Natasha grinned at him. "So very sorry to hear that they think you're worth it. Remember to leave the hotel and phone number with us before you leave. As a precaution. Just in case."

Walter grinned back. He had insisted on having Natasha's itinerary that Easter when she and the children had driven to visit her family, leaving Charlie and Gorky behind. "Thanks, I will." He walked over to the edge of the veranda. He yelled, "Calling all sevens and younger! First round!"

Davy was driving them crazy.

Walter had read that twelve was an awkward age for boys, but this was bordering on insane. They were both of them ready to kill the kid. It was hard to remember that he had once said, almost jokingly, that there would come a day that Davy would stomp up stairs, muttering invectives at his parents under his breath, and slam his bedroom door shut. That they would still love him, no matter what.

Well, they might still love him, but it was hard to find the likeable child in the tense, pouting, moody demon who had taken up residence in Davy's body.

"Puberty," said Natasha and Charlie, offering sympathetic shudders.

Walter agreed on that it was the onset of puberty, but it was also more than that. He knew it. Alex knew it. Even Davy knew it, but neither of them could get Davy to talk about it.

Then, one day, after there had been a set-to between Walter and Davy about some homework, Alex blew his top.

"That's it!" He shouted over the tension as he slammed the palm of his hand down hard on the kitchen table, shocking the other two. Alex never raised his voice. Rarely indicated that he had a temper. It effectively silenced both of them.

Alex pointed to a chair at the kitchen table. "Davy. Sit."

Without a word, eyes wide open, still taken aback by Alex's reaction, Davy sat. So did the dogs who had been anxiously watching the scene.

"Walter, you, too."

Walter sat. After nearly four years, there were times when Alex took him completely by surprise. While he'd been hoping that Alex could come up with some insight into Davy's behaviour, he wasn't sure what the hell was going on right now, but he was tired of dealing with Davy on his own and was more than happy to leave the field open to Alex.

"Okay. Enough is enough, Daveed Krycek Skinner. We know that things are happening that are upsetting you, but so far you're refusing to let us help you. That's what we're here for. Unfortunately, neither of us is a mind-reader, so you're going to have to let us in on what the problem is. I know that Natasha says it's puberty and that all kids' bodies go through some chemical change at this age, but it's more than that, Davy.

"Now we've been pretty tolerant, but unless you start telling us what's bugging you, you're going to find yourself grounded for the rest of your life." Alex pulled out a chair and sat watching the boy who seemed to be growing an inch a week these past months. All arms and legs, hands and feet awkwardly large for the still growing body. Mouth mulishly set.

Eyes frightened.

Alex gentled his tone. "Davy, we love you. We will always love you. No matter what. Please, can't you find it in yourself to tell us what's wrong?"

Davy looked at his hands lying flat on the table for several minutes.

Alex was wondering just what he could say to get the kid talking when he did. Low, mumbled. Inaudible.

"I'm sorry, Davy, I didn't catch any of that. Would you try again?"

Davy sighed deeply, looked up at his worried parents. "I think there's something really wrong with me."

Walter got out of his chair and took one closer to the boy. He placed his hand on one of the boy's nervous ones and held it still. Voice infused with a calm he didn't feel, he asked, "What do you think is wrong with you, Davy?"

Davy looked from Walter to Alex. "I'm your clone, right?"

Alex nodded. "There's nothing new about that, Davy. We never hid it from you."

Davy nodded, bitting his lower lip as he gathered the courage to continue. Walter gave the cold hand under his an encouraging squeeze.

"You sleep with Papa. Have sex with him."

"Nothing new there either, Davy." Alex spoke in the same tone that he used when Pushkin was frightened by something that he couldn't get anyone to understand.

Davy nodded again. "I'm your clone," he repeated, "I should be like you."

"How like me?"

Davy looked from Alex to Walter. Frustrated, he struggled with the words. "Remember last month? When the high school had the car wash as a fund raiser? And they didn't want us elementary," he sneered, "kids around to get under their feet?"

Alex nodded. He glanced at Walter who looked as lost as he felt.

"Well, we watched them from the big tree by the parking lot."

"We?"

"Yeah, me, Slaven and Maggie."

Maggie had joined the select group of kids who hung around the house since she'd moved to the town with her parents that September.

"Okay," recapped Alex, "you, Slaven and Maggie are in the tree watching the high school kids wash cars."

Davy nodded. "It was a hot day, remember? And all of them were wearing things like shorts and tank tops or bathing suits."

"That's a good idea," said Alex, giving Davy time to find the words to continue, "when there's that much water around."

Davy nodded, almost grateful. "That's when it happened. They were all wet and tossing buckets of water over each other and... I...got..." Davy's voice faded into a faint whisper, "...hard."

There was a moment's silence as the two adults finally clued in.

"You had an erection?" Walter kept his voice sympathetic though he almost had to bite his lips to keep from laughing. All this angst for an erection!

"But?" asked Alex, having clued in that, worrisome though that was, it wasn't the cause of Davy's behaviour.

Davy lowered his head, his hair falling forward as though he was looking for something behind which to hide.

Walter exchanged a worried glance with Alex before giving Davy's hand a tighter squeeze. "Davy, whatever it is, you can tell us. Erections are a natural occurrence for the male of the species. We've spoken about that before. But did something else happen?"

Damn, thought Walter, had someone touched his child?

"You don't understand." Davy was almost in tears.

"Then," Alex's voice was softly encouraging, "you'd better try and explain it to us, Davy."

"I got hard watching Joanna Ryan!" he shouted. "There! You see!"

But they didn't. Davy freed his hands and used them to wipe the hair back off his face. He tried again. "I should have gotten hard watching Tommy Baker or John Douglas. Maggie thought they were extreme hunks. But nothing happened when I watched them. But Joanna Ryan was wearing this thing that barely covered her nipples and she was jumping up and down, squealing whenever the guys hosed her, and her...her..." He made a cupping gesture with his hands.

"Breasts," Walter offered.

"They were jiggling and all I could think of was touching them and I got hard!" Davy was in tears. "What's wrong with me?"

Alex grabbed one of Davy's hands in his. Walter reached and snagged a near-by box of tissues. He pulled several out and offered them to the boy. They both waited until Davy blew his nose and wiped his face.

"First of all, Davy, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you." Walter shook his head at the boy ready to challenge his statement. "What happened is what is supposed to happen. You saw something that turned you on sexually and your body reacted to that."

"But it should have been the guys, not a girl!"

"Because you're my clone?" Alex cocked his head. "Is that it, Davy?"

Davy found the table top very interesting but finally nodded.

Alex frowned. This was something neither he nor Walter had ever thought about. He looked at Walter who shrugged and tossed the ball back at him.

"Davy, look at me, please. Now listen to me. Yes, you are my clone. All that means is that genetically, you are my double. Like an identical twin, but younger. When you grow up, you know exactly what you're going to look like because you see me, you see my face every day. But that's it, Davy. That's all. The rest of you is you, not me. We have different experiences, we have different pasts, we'll have different futures."

"But I'm your clone. I should be just like you."

"Look like me, yes. Be me, no. Davy, sexuality is an individual thing. There are identical twins, one of whom is gay while the other is straight."

Davy just shook his head, not really believing.

Walter leaned forward. "Davy, you know how you hate cooked turnips?"

Davy, confused by the change in topic, had to take a moment to think about that. "Yeah?"

"But Alex loves cooked turnips. And no matter how you've tried them...with brown sugar...with butter... you hate the stuff. Am I right?"

Davy nodded.

"If your theory on clones was right, you should love the stuff as much as Alex does. But you don't now, do you?"

"No." The thought seemed to cheer Davy up. "No, I really hate the taste of them."

"So then why shouldn't you find females a turn on? There's nothing that says you shouldn't or can't. It's obvious that your mind and body find them attractive."

"So there's nothing weird about me? Nothing that needs to be fixed?"

"Just because you get turned on by women and not men?" Walter grinned with relief. "Nothing in the least."

"Nothing in the least." Alex repeated as he pulled his clone into his arms and gave him a tight hug before passing him onto Walter.

"I'm sorry, Alex, I'm sorry, Papa, for the way I've been. I thought that maybe you'd be disgusted by me."

"Disgusted!" Walter gave the boy a gentle shake. "Never ever. We love you too much for that to ever happen."

Alex leaned back in his chair. "Even if we really didn't like you much these days, kiddo, we never stopped loving you."

Walter gave the boy another hug and then sat him back in his chair. "Now that's out of the way, I think we'd better have a little talk about what is acceptable behaviour where women are concerned."

"The whys and wherefores," added Alex. "And it's never too early to be reminded about condoms."

Davy rolled his eyes, relieved to discover that there was nothing weird about him, but already slightly embarrassed to be discussing condoms with his parents. "Papa!," he whined. "Ahh...lex!"

Alex rolled over and let his body laze as the slight breeze from the open window cooled the sweat off it.

Walter covered his eyes with an arm and sighed happily. Damn, but he loved it when Alex let loose his usual restraint and went feral on him that way.

"You know," Alex said after several minutes.

On the verge of slipping into sleep, Walter forced himself to give an interrogative grunt by way of response.

"I feel sorry for the kid."

Walter opened his eyes and thought about the situation. "Yeah, puberty's no fun at the best of times."

"Not that." Alex turned onto his side, facing Walter. "Yes, I'm sorry he's had such a hard time of it these last few weeks, worrying about being straight, but that's not why I feel sorry for him."

Walter watched the face that was above his. Domestic life seemed to suit Alex very well. And not just physically. He'd gradually put back some weight so that he came across as less honed and dangerous. And he'd lost that tension he'd carried along with him so that he looked more like the teaching assistant he'd become. "Then why?"

Alex propped his cheek against his raised fist. "He'll never know how wonderful it feels to have someone like you as his lover. Never know the pleasure of being royally fucked into the mattress by one Walter S. Skinner-type."

Walter grinned, raised his hand to caress the cheek that was free. He was about to say something when Alex continued.

"Of being loved by you. And of loving you."

That last caught Walter's breath. He swallowed hard. "Thank you."

Alex shrugged as best he could. "I know it's not something I've often said to you," he acknowledged.

"Actually," Walter smiled gently, "it's the first time that you've ever said something like that to me."

"The first time?" That worried Alex. "Are you sure?"

"Well, the first time you say the words. You've never let me doubt how you feel about me, Alex, but you've never actually said the words until now."

Alex was stunned. "But..."

Walter grinned. "It's okay, Alex." Actually, it had made him understand how Sharon must have felt. "I mean, I know you love me, but it's just nice to hear the words. Sorta reassuring that it's not a one-way street."

"Fuck! No way! Walter, I'm sorry, I thought..."

Walter placed his fingers over Alex's mouth. "Alex. I don't say it often enough either. We're men, you know. The strong, silent type. We just assume that actions speak louder than words. And they do, Alex. For us, they have done and will continue doing so. But for the record, I love you, Alex Krycek. Very much."

Alex lowered his mouth so that it hovered over Walter's, his eyes close enough that, even in the faint moonlight, Walter could make out the intense emotion in them. "I love you, Walter. More than I ever thought it was possible to love another being. And I will remember to say it from now on."

Walter raised his head enough so that their mouths met. His arms reached and pulled his lover down to him. When they finally released, Alex's head against his own, Walter muttered, "I wish I were twenty again, just so I could make love to you a second time tonight."

Alex chuckled. "Well, you're not and I'm not. But I don't mind giving it a try if you're game."

They went slowly, each gesture now suddenly made all that much more sensual as there were words that accompanied the touches. Words that Walter discovered he had wanted to say for a long time, words that thrilled him to hear whispered in his ear, against his skin. Words that spilled out of his lover in several languages. Words serving to inflame them both.

This time, they lay snuggled up close to each other, cooling in the night breeze.

"Not bad for two old geezers," yawned Walter.

"Love you," murmured Alex.

The sound of the doorbell startled him in his office.

Not a sound often heard, not with Kaiser ever on the alert. But the dogs were off with Alex and Walter had to think about which door was requesting his presence.

He went down the stairs, to the front door, wondering who the hell would actually take the time to ring at their door. Most people knew to come round to the kitchen door.

"Yes..."

And that was all that made it out of his mouth.

The couple at the door were smiling broadly at him.

"So," said the man, "this is where Assistant Directors hide out."

The woman raised an eyebrow at the comment. "Good afternoon, sir."

Shit! thought Walter. Mulder? Scully? Here?

"Have we arrived at an inconvenient time, sir?" Scully sent one of those I-told-you-so looks at her husband. Mulder just grinned and shrugged.

"Sorry, sir. We were in the area and remembered that you had moved up here some time ago. We took the chance..."

"Yes, yes, of course." Walter stepped back, realizing that his reception could be construed as less than welcoming. That's when he noticed the boy. What was his name? Oh, yes, William. "Come in, come in."

He looked around the entrance that had become a bit of a storage area for the men. They rarely had any reason to use the front area so that it had, over the years, gathered the usual debris a male household produced. Three pairs of roller blades. Damn, didn't they hang those up any more? The hockey stick and goalie pads that Davy used when playing street hockey with the neighbourhood kids. A pair of baseball mitts, a ball and a bat. Davy's and Alex's gym bags which, from the aroma that wafted up, were probably due for their monthly clean out. Two boxes of newspapers ready for the Scouts recycling run. A couple of well-chewed sticks, something the dogs had brought in.

With a smile, hoping—hopelessly— that Scully was not as meticulous a housekeeper as her reports had been, Walter led his surprise visitors into the large family room. This would be the week the parlour was unuseable as they were in the process of repainting it.

With a smile, he indicated the better of the two couches and watched as Mulder examined the room with a delighted grin. Yes, it wasn't that much better than the entry either. Davy had had his gang over last night to watch some game on the wide-screen TV, followed by at least three of those movies boys his age were so fond of watching. Someone had left a jacket and a plate on the pool table. There was still a bowl on the battered coffee table with remnants of popcorn, a couple of empty large bags of chips and a few apple cores as well as a pyramid of Coke cans. Not to mention the crumbs that decorated the carpet by the couches and armchairs.

Damn it, he'd been busy with that article he had promised Granger he'd have for him by the end of the weekend. He hadn't taken time to check if Davy and his friends had cleaned up. He guessed that Davy thought he'd get around to that this morning but then, glancing at his watch, come to think of it, Davy hadn't yet gotten out of bed. What time had he finally hit the sack last night? No, this morning.

As Scully and Mulder were casing the room, exchanging those silent messages married couples did, Walter took a moment to examine the boy. He'd been born when they'd left D.C. So what did that make him? Eight? Nine?

And looking at the boy, Walter suddenly found himself grinning. The Mulder nose. The Mulder mouth. The Mulder eyes. The Mulder build. Damn but if Scully hadn't gone and given birth to a Mulder clone. Explained a few things. Such as how a woman made barren suddenly got pregnant.

He dropped into his favourite chair and smiled, more at ease with this visit now than he had been. "So what were you doing up here? The last I heard, you, Agent Scully, were at Quantico, teaching forensics."

"Actually, sir, it's no longer Agent, merely Doctor. I'm still teaching forensics but at Georgetown."

Walter smiled as he nodded. "And do you enjoy that?"

"Yes, sir, I do. It's very fulfilling." She smiled back at him, slowly working her way to the back of the couch.

Walter hoped that she wouldn't mind the dog hair on her black pants.

"And what are you up to these days, Mulder?"

"Psychology. I have a private practice and I occasionally provide profiles for the VCUs of different law enforcement agencies."

Walter nodded. "That must keep you busy."

Scully grinned at him openly. "And out of trouble?" she added.

Walter grinned back.

"Actually," said Mulder, laughing slightly at his wife's reminder of his days back when he worked under the Assistant Director, "we're on our way back from a seminar in Boston and we decided to take the long way home. We knew that you had retired here, so we looked you up in the phone book and took the chance that you might be at home today."

Before Walter could ask them if there was a reason behind the visit, they were interrupted by the sound of an elephant charging down the stairs.

Walter sighed. How many times had they...

"Papa, I know we didn't clean up last night but..."

Davy came into the room, his usual cyclone self. He was wearing jeans that he probably had slept in, a green hockey sweater with his name on the back, and in his stocking feet because his joggers were still on the veranda at the back door, encrusted with the mud he had brought home with him after spending the evening cleaning up the bank of the swimming hole with Slaven and Maggie and whomever else they had managed to drag along.

His entry caused a variety of reactions. Mulder and Scully stood up. "Krycek!"

William joined them. "Green! Your hair is green!"

Standing, Walter smiled at the boy, grinned at the adults. "I don't think you've ever met my son, Daveed, have you?"

"Your son!" Mulder looked stunned.

Walter nodded. "Davy, I'd like you to meet Doctor Dana Scully and Doctor Fox Mulder. They used to work in one of the departments under me, the X-Files."

Davy nodded at them in a friendly manner. "I've heard those names before. I'm pleased to meet you, Dr. Scully. Dr. Mulder."

Walter enjoyed the stunned looks on the faces of their visitors. At seventeen, Davy was still a couple of inches shy of his full height but hours of playing hockey had filled the shoulders and chest so that his resemblance to the adult Alex Krycek was striking. Of course, the green hair added a certain je-ne-sais-quoi. Not something that Alex would ever be caught dead wearing.

"Why is your hair green?"

Davy crouched to face the child.

Scully made to move as though to protect her child but Mulder quickly placed his hand on her arm. Walter lost his smile. The kids ignored them.

"So that it matches the colour of my sweater. See. The green and white are the colours of the Middlebury Green Mountain Boys. That's my hockey team. I'm one of their goalies. We were in the State finals and we thought, the team did, that the hair might make us play better."

"And did it?" The child's eyes were bright with fascination.

"Nope. We got creamed in the semi-finals. But it was fun." Davy looked up, eyes laughing. "Besides, it drove some of the parents crazy and that was fun, too."

Walter scoffed. "Granger finally admitted it was something he would have done at your ages, too."

"The only reason the sheriff didn't go ballistic when he saw Dylan is because you found it funny. Frankly, a lot of the kids were hoping that you would. They figured if you backed us, their parents would freak out less."

Walter shook his head. "What use would freaking out have been? It was a done deal by the time I saw it. And I don't have to handle the looks and the questions." He sighed, hoping for some commiseration from the two who were still silently absorbing the presence and look of his son. "I just have to live with it. Not so easy first thing in the morning."

And then there was the sound of a truck arriving, dogs barking and the kitchen door slamming. "Davy! Get those joggers cleaned up before Kaiser thinks they're a snack."

And there was the thud of what Walter knew were pizza boxes on the counter, followed by, "Go eat your own food!"

And then Alex Krycek walked into the room, sunglasses shoved up to the top of his head, thin cigarillo in his mouth, dogs at his feet.

"Dear lord!" Scully looked aghast.

Alex came to a dead stop, causing Pushkin to plough into him.

"Dogs! You have dogs!" William squealed with delight. "Three of them!" He looked up as Barney came over to sniff him. "Can I pat them?" he asked Davy.

"William," Scully unfroze enough to approach her son.

Davy ignored her for William. "Sure. Barney's pretty cool. He likes pats. Kaiser, let her smell you really well before you try touching her. She just wants to make sure that you're not another dog muscling in on her territory. As for Pushkin...well, he's hiding in the kitchen. He's afraid of kids so he may never let you near."

"We have visitors, Alex." Walter went to stand by his lover.

"Yes, Walter, so I see." Alex spoke though clamped teeth.

The tension in the room rose enough that Kaiser stopped sniffing William and looked nervously at the others.

"Davy," Walter smiled at the small boy who was also picking up the tension, "why don't you show William the tree house..."

"A tree house! You have a tree house, too!"

Davy grinned and offered his hand to the child. "Yep. Papa and Alex built it for me when I was about your age. It has a trap door and a ladder..." With the same grin that Scully and Mulder remembered from Alex Krycek's days as an agent, Davy took William out to the kitchen. The dogs went with them, in happy expectation.

"That had better be your pizza you feed them," tossed Alex over his shoulder.

Davy paused in the doorway, pizza box in hand, eyes sparkling with bedevilment. "Yes, sir, Mom." To Scully he added. "I'll keep an eye on the boy, Doctor Scully. I'm sure you two and Papa and Alex have all sorts of things to catch up on." Said very innocently, as though he had no idea of just who these people were and why they had responded so strongly to the sight of him and then Alex.

Alex snorted. Walter raised an eyebrow. Davy whistled. "Come on, Push, pizza!"

It was about an hour later when the adults went out to the yard where William was tossing up pieces of crust for the dogs.

It had been a strangely harrowing hour for Dana Scully, to discover that not only was Alex Krycek alive and well, but that he was happily living in a domestic situation with a man he had once killed. With a child who was an obvious replicant of himself. It took her almost that entire time to clue in to the matching rings the men wore, on their right hands. Because, she reasoned, of Krycek's only having the one real hand. Later on, Mulder would remind her that in the Russian tradition, wedding bands were worn on the right hand.

Fox Mulder, once he had understood the situation in the house, had settled for getting a few answers from Krycek about events that had occurred all those years back which had bugged him since.

Both of them had been surprised to discover that Krycek was a lecturer at the local college: Russian language and literature. That Skinner had indeed written the methodology text that was still in use at Quantico and had a career in speaking to police groups about cross-boundary jurisdictional procedures. That he was often called, in an advisory capacity, to help in dealing with such situations.

That Daveed Krycek Skinner was finishing high school, on his way to university on a scholarship.

None of them had mentioned the obvious: that Davy was a clone.

"Mom! Watch!" William tossed a crust high into the air for Kaiser who leapt up to catch it before it had even started its downward path.

Scully smiled at her son.

The back yard had the usual accouterment that she associated with men. There was an older model SUV in the driveway, a pick-up truck that she assumed was Krycek's. She wasn't certain whom the two motorcycles in disrepair that were housed in the open garage belonged to, just that someone had dismantled the engine of one. Leaning against the veranda were two bicycles. Those she decided had to belong to the two young women—girls really—dressed in short shorts and tight cropped tank tops who were leaning in flirtatious poses against the trunk of the maple tree closest to the tree with the tree house. A tree in which the green-haired boy lay contentedly along a branch, holding easy conversation with the two girls.

"Well,' she said in a low tone, loud enough for just the adults to hear, "it's a pity that they're wasting their time."

Walter stopped to look a question at her.

"Well, they seem to be very...optimistic about their chances with your...son."

Alex took a moment to relight his cigarillo "It is," he said, blowing out a long plume of smoke, knowing that it would irritate Scully to no end, "a deep, dark family secret that, much to our bewilderment, Davy is unabashedly heterosexual."

"That said," Walter smiled, "you are right about their being optimistic. Scud coming in at seven o'clock."

It took Scully a moment to understand that he was referring to the woman who was strolling into the yard. A woman who wore a short skirt, a tight t-shirt that revealed no skin, but a nice bosom. Who, though young, was older than the two girls by several years. Older than Davy by at least a couple.

"Mr. Skinner. Mr. Krycek." Her voice had that low, gravelly quality that seemed to be so popular with some men. Scully noticed that Mulder suddenly went from playing with Kaiser and their son to smiling up at the young woman. Who ignored him for the boy up in the tree. Who no longer saw either of the other girls.

"Joanna." He smiled as only a young man, confident in his sexuality, can and the two girls practically salivated, even if the smile was not directed their way.

As Joanna approached the tree, Davy dropped lazily, like a large cat, onto the ground.

They didn't kiss. She just went and put her arm around his waist. He let his arm drop onto her shoulders. Walking hip by hip, they passed by the four watching adults on their way out of the yard.

"Time?" Alex removed the small cigar from his mouth, smiling at the young woman who grinned back at him.

"By five. I promised to coach tonight."

Walter nodded. "Have fun."

"Behave," muttered Alex, but low enough that the young couple didn't hear him. "Grey hairs. I swear I wouldn't have any if it wasn't for him."

Walter grinned, passing his hand over his scalp, over the narrower fringe of light grey hair. "Take a good look, Mulder. This is what puberty does to parents."

They finally got William away from the dogs. "All I have at home are fish," he explained to Walter. "'Cause we live in a no-pet building."

Scully used an anti-bacterial towelette to wipe his hands after she got him into the car. Mulder nodded to Krycek who disappeared inside, probably to warn up the pizza that had lain on the counter all this time, waiting to be eaten.

As he went to go around the car to the driver's seat, Skinner stopped him. "Does William know?"

Mulder stilled. "Know what?"

"That he's a clone."

Mulder's face hardened as he looked at Skinner, ready to challenge him. "What makes you say that?"

Skinner sighed. "Mulder, I've spent the last nine years living with one. Believe me, I recognize a clone when I see one. He's you to a T."

Mulder sighed, allowed some of the tension to dissipate. "No. No, he doesn't. We decided to wait until he can fully understand before telling him."

Skinner nodded. "Alex's decision was different. Which means that Davy's had time to think about it. To figure out how or if he will allow it to affect his life. So, Mulder, when you and Scully decide to tell William, if he needs to talk to someone, to understand that he's not alone in that position, call us. I'm sure that Davy will be happy to discuss all or any of the advantages and the disadvantages with him."

Mulder thought about it for a moment. He looked into the car where Scully was sitting, waiting for him to join her and their son. "Thanks. I will remember to tell William that as well."

Walter watched the car pull out of the driveway. He checked his watch. Davy would be gone a good three hours.

He smiled.

The package with the new toys had arrived earlier in the week.

Whistling happily, Walter went up the stairs, into the kitchen, wondering how long it would take him to convince his lover this would be a good time to try some of them out.

Nif

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