Pairing: Sk/K
Rating: PG
Warning: You all knew that I would have to do this.
Disclaimer: CC, 1013 and Fox "own" their canon characters, but I have no idea who owns the others or why they would even admit to owning them.
Universe: Well, take a guess, eh!

Walter was spending a lazy day in the hammock that they had strung up between two of the trees on the 'scenic' side of their house.

He had a cold beer in hand, thanks to a small cooler of ice that sat just within hand's reach. His battered panama was tilted forward in case the bright afternoon sun made it through the thick foliage, past his blackened glasses. After all this time, his body had acclimatized to the weather so that his skin was the colour of dark toast. Which was a good thing as all he wore was a very small loin cloth designed to protect some very sensitive flesh.

He sighed, happy with life.

Once he had rushed from home (such as it was!) to the office where he truly lived. He had had an ulcer, a mangy bear's temper and a career that had been going nowhere.

He had had people to worry about, reports to read, meetings to attend.

Shit! Had he ever had meetings to attend!

Walter felt his stomach clench a little at the thought of those god-awful boring meetings that never seemed to end or to accomplish anything other than set up other meetings that were even more god- awful boring.

He raised the bottle of local brew to his lips and took a calming sip. The cool liquid went down his throat to ease the memory of that now long gone ulcer.

Yes, life was pretty good right now. No more meetings. No more reports. No more ulcer.

He was retired now. Well, officially, he was dead, but that was in another world, in another life.

Here, he had a growing reputation as a boat builder. A persnickety one who wouldn't build for anyone he didn't like. For anyone who didn't know better than to brag about owning one of their boats. (No sense in challenging Fate, even if they did have other names.) Alex let him pick and choose whom they built for, never offering his opinion until Walter had made a decision.

And that was another thing that made life so good these days. Alex. His partner. His lover. His mate.

Walter felt his cock twitch at the thought of Alex. But only twitch. He was getting older and, after last night's two-man orgy, he hoped that Alex would be content with just a little cuddling tonight. Damn, but the things that man could get Walter's body to do! At his age! And considering that Alex too was getting older, not so quick off the draw as he once had been, last night had lasted a very long time.

Which was why all Walter could find the energy to do today was lie in this hammock, dozing, enjoying the breeze that blew off the South Pacific ocean.

And thinking about Alex made him wonder just where his insatiable lover was this afternoon. Actually, come to think about it, he hadn't seen Alex since breakfast. Since he had kissed Walter on the head and murmured something about giving him time to get the sap running in him again.

He remembered groaning at that, but smiling. He remembered Alex mentioning something about having to go over to someplace with the Cousins and that he'd be back for supper.

When Walter thought about it, he realized that the "something" and "someplace" had been skipped over in Alex's conversation, but he shrugged. Nothing much Alex could do to get himself into trouble around here. Besides, Walter took another mouthful of his brew, if Alex was with the Cousins, he was probably spending the day fishing with them on the boat they (he and Alex, all by themselves) had built.

He wondered what kind of fish Alex would bring home for their supper.

And so Walter dropped off into another snoozy state, confident that all was well with his world.

On an island that shall remain nameless

"Alex! Look at them run! Have you ever seen anything so funny?"

'Ti Gus covered his mouth so that his laughter would not alert the camera crew to their presence. His cousin, Jean-Guy, had both hands on his mouth, trying to stifle his own laughter. Alex shared a wide grin with Jean-Francois.

The small explosives they had planted on the beach were going off like clockwork, upsetting both the crew and the so-called "actors" of the program that was being taped on the island. The small mines were really inoffensive, other than the high puff of sand they sent up into the air and the smell they released.

Of course, the fact that the smell came from the pulverized rotten fish that was also released with the explosion meant that the local birds were swooping and diving around the screaming people as though they were trying out for the roles of extras in a remake of Hitchcock's THE BIRDS.

And, as the intruders made for their boat, there was more restrained laughter from the slope that overlooked the small cove. The boat was already showing signs of listing from the amount of ocean water that was finding its way in.

But the best part (Jean-Francois thought it was an unbelievably excellent idea!) was the scrambler that Alex had brought with him that would render the cell phones useless until its battery ran out.

In about a week.

"Let's see,' Alex snickered as the men made their way back to their boat which they had anchored out of sight, "how well they all survive in these circumstances."

Fin

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