Life from the Ashes Prequel
Chapter 3

by Jo B.
purplefox@usfamily.net

***

Hoover Building
Director's Conference Room
Friday, July 10
1:00 p.m.

Mulder watched with amusement as several of the Assistant Directors and SACs shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Walter Skinner sat straight and betrayed no emotions. Mulder really had a hard time keeping a straight face -- he didn't know how Skinner managed it.

"I realize not many of you, if any, have ever had sexual relations with another man. That is what these classes are for, to teach you how men interact on a personal and romantic level, so you'll be able to deal with your subordinates if they come to you for advise," the director stated.

"Sir, couldn't we just send them to see a counselor?" A.D. Murphy asked.

"Murph, these directives come directly from Congress, and apply to all government agencies. Part of the logic behind it is clearly asinine, but underlying goal is not. The government wants to normalize men's lives as quickly as possible, and to do that they realize men need companionship and a release for their sexual urges. The only logical sexual release available, besides solo gratification, is another man."

"Sir, I still fail to see how it's our job to teach men about homosexual sex," Murphy replied.

Several men snickered.

"You're not teaching them anything, you're only to be supportive to your men if they should seek your advice. Under no circumstances are you to approach them first or instigate sexual relations. Now, the classes will be broken into two sessions with ten men at each session, you will each receive notification by email when your classes will be held. Any questions?" He looked around the conference room at the sullen men. "Okay, dismissed. SAC Mulder, I'd like a word with you in private," the director said, stuffing the papers back into a folder.

Mulder sifted uncomfortably as the other men gave him speculative looks as they walked past him on their way out. Oh great, it was just his luck to be held after by the director, just after said director had a lengthy discussion about male relationships and homosexual love. Mulder's eyes met Skinner's as the larger man started to walk by him, Skinner paused briefly as if he wanted to say something, then seemed to think better of it and continued on his way.

After the last man left, the director walked over and leaned against the conference table next to Mulder. "Fox, how have you been doing lately?"

"Fine, sir," he replied uneasily.

"You're looking well. I take it the new job isn't too stressful. Are you getting enough sleep? Is your apartment building secure enough?" The director's eyes traveled up and down his body.

"Job's *fine* . . . I'm sleeping *fine* . . . but there are too many n'thrals in my apartment building . . . other than that everything is *FINE*," Mulder emphasized. "Sir, why did you want to see me?"

"Fox, I want to move your office out of the basement . . . I don't think it's safe for you to be down there by yourself. We've been having problems with a few of the n'thral agents we have working for us. Brad from security discovered a couple of them hanging around the basement last week; he overheard them saying some sexually explicit things about you. I'm trying to get the lot of them dismissed on the grounds that they are no longer fit to be FBI agents, but until I do I want you out of the basement."

"Sir, I could keep my office door locked when I'm working down there or how about letting me bring my dog into work. He's very good against n'thrals and ghouls," Mulder pleaded. He cherished his basement sanctuary and didn't want to give it up.

"What type of dog?"

"He's a German Shepherd, sir."

"Hmm, those are smart, protective dogs. Okay, Fox, I'll call security and get you permission to bring your dog into the office. I'm also going to see about getting those n'thrals moved out of your apartment building," the director said, standing.

"Thank you, sir," Mulder murmured.

The director smiled softly. "Get back to work, SAC Mulder."

"Yes, sir." Mulder stood, feeling relieved as he left the office.

Unbeknownst to Mulder, the director kept an admiring eye on his ass as he walked out of the office.

Mulder took the stairs back down to his office. He was reaching for the doorknob when he heard a noise from inside his office. Pulling out his gun, he slowly opened the door and peered in. Walter Skinner sat behind his desk, in front of him were several pencils that he was launching up into the ceiling. They joined the other pencils already in the ceiling that Mulder had put there over the past two months.

"Sir?" Mulder said, putting his gun back in its holster.

Skinner missed his next shot as Mulder's voice threw off his aim and the pencil skittered across the desk and onto the floor. He glanced up, embarrassed.

"Sir, what are you doing here?" Mulder asked, coming in and closing the door.

"I wanted to see if you were okay? The director doesn't usually ask anyone to stay after his meetings unless it's important," he replied.

"He was worried about my safety down here alone in the basement," Mulder replied.

"Why?" Skinner had his own concerns about Mulder's safety, that was why he had the building's security guards making scheduled rounds down here, but he hadn't expected the Director to show concern. He had been more worried about the Director propositioning Mulder. Skinner hadn't missed the way the Director's eyes grazed over Mulder during the meeting.

"It seems a couple of the agents that have mutated into n'thrals were spotted down here, and the Director is concerned that they might attempt to attack me."

Skinner swallowed. "What did the Director suggest?"

"He wanted to move me upstairs, but I convinced him to allow me to bring Rex to work instead," Mulder replied smugly.

"Agent Mulder, I think it would be a good idea for you to move upstairs. You would be closer to your team of agents, you are their SAC, after all," Skinner replied. Now, he was even more concerned about Mulder being down here alone.

"They know where to find me, besides I like managing from afar," Mulder smirked. "Sir, I'm a highly trained FBI agent and with Rex at my side no n'thral would dare attempt anything."

"Mulder, those n'thrals are highly trained FBI agents, too."

"Yeah, but their mutation has left them a less intelligent. I think I could hold my own against them."

Skinner glared at him. "It's that less intelligent aspect of the mutation that worries me. If they were smarter, they'd have more mental control over their sexual urges."

"Every n'thral I've run into was smart enough to stay away from Rex. I'll be fine, sir." A mischievous grin crossed his face. "So, I hear you have your own special relationship with a n'thral?"

A shadow crossed Skinner's handsome face. "Where did you hear that?" he growled.

"Let's just say that there are some real disadvantages to living in the same apartment building with over one hundred and fifty highly trained FBI agents," Mulder chuckled, he was amused over how irritated Skinner had become. He had overheard Agents Pipino and Underwood telling some other agents about the seven-foot tall n'thral that showed up at Viva Towers with a bouquet of flowers asking for Skinner.

"That's not funny, Mulder, I still haven't been able to dissuade that creature, and I even had to find myself a new liquor store," he grumbled.

"Sorry, sir, but it is funny. So, these classes that the director outlined, is there anyway to get out of them?" Mulder asked.

"Unfortunately, no. It's not that I have a problem with the concept, but I really don't want to sit through it with my peers." Out of his pocket, Skinner pulled the pamphlet the director handed out. "I especially don't see the necessity of the second session, 'A Working Knowledge of Male-to-Male Sex.'" He read the details of the class to himself, and determined that he was already intimately familiar with all of it.

"Hey, that's the only one that sounded remotely interesting. I wonder if we'd get to see a video in that session," Mulder joked. Deep down he was curious. In the past, he'd rented a few gay porn films, but they didn't have any technical details about having sex with another man. However, he had to agree with Skinner, he did not want to sit through these sessions with other agents.

Skinner gave him a sideways look. "Have you ever?"

Ever? "No!" he squeaked, realizing what his boss was asking. He blushed, not wanting Skinner to suspect that he'd had fantasies about him or Alex Krycek.

"Sorry, Mulder, I shouldn't have asked you that, it was inappropriate. I'd better be heading back to my office. Be sure to lock the door after me," he ordered. Leaving the office, he closed the door behind him. A brilliant smile broke out on Skinner's handsome face, so Mulder had never had sex with another man. He had wondered about Mulder and Krycek in the past. Recently he worried about the friend that went over to fix Mulder lunch after that ghoul had attacked him, it seemed to him like something someone that was closer than just a friend would do.

Skinner waited for the elevator to arrive; he didn't notice the large shapes hiding around the corner. He stepped on, pushing the button to his floor, fantasizing about Fox Mulder.

Mulder locked the door after Skinner had left. Groaning, he was so pathetic, confessing that he was inexperienced sexually with men to his boss made him feel so foolish. Why couldn't he have told Skinner it was none of his business and left him wondering? Instead, he let the man know that he was a virgin. God, he wondered if Skinner was experienced or if his question meant he was interested in him? Mulder chewed on his bottom lip as those thoughts fluttered around his brain; he wondered what kissing Skinner would feel like?

Mulder shrugged out of his suit coat and hung it on the coat tree by the door. He walked back over to his desk, he flipped on his computer, putting his glasses on. A sound outside his door caused him to glance up, he reached for his gun just as the door crashed open and three large n'thrals rushed in.

The largest one dove across the small space, twisting the gun out of Mulder's hand. "Now, Foxy, that's not a nice way to greet your fellow agents." He bent down and nuzzled his nose against the side of Mulder's throat sniffing him.

"Davis, keep your fucking hands off of me, and get the hell out of my office!" Mulder growled, trying to push the giant off him.

"Hey, Davis, we can't get the door closed," Agent Madsen complained as he tried to close the fractured door. The door jam had been torn from the wall and the door was split in two.

"Forget about the fucking door! We're taking Foxy here back to our place where we won't be interrupted. Hobson, go and pull our truck up to the side door," Davis ordered. Then he silenced Mulder by forcing his tongue into the smaller man's mouth as his hand groped and kneaded Mulder's buttocks. His thick fingers delved into the crease of Mulder's ass trying to locate his anus through the fabric.

Mulder was totally helpless; the n'thral had lifted him off the floor, and his feet didn't touch the ground. He was held firmly against the immense creature's chest by one massive arm, while it's other hand played with his ass. Mulder tried to bite down on the offensive tongue, but the thing was like leather, and he only succeeded in exciting the giant more.

"LET HIM GO!" Skinner growled, leveling his gun at the two n'thrals.

The third n'thral was in the hallway being held at gunpoint by Agent Sullivan.

"Put your gun down, Skinner! If you don't . . . I'll tear off one of Foxy's arms," Davis growled, tightening his hold on Mulder.

"Davis, so far you'll only be up on assault charges, don't make it worse," Skinner warned.

"Foxy is coming with me, Skinner! Now drop the gun and get out of our way!" the n'thral growled. "I'd really hate to disfigure such of beautiful man, but he'd still be quite fuckable. It's your call, Skinner, do I start pulling off limbs or are you going to let Foxy leave here in one piece?"

Mulder saw the fear in Skinner's eyes, he knew his boss was going to lay down his gun, and he couldn't allow that to happen. Mulder was able to free one arm and he cautiously reached for a sharpened pencil that had dropped on top of the filing cabinet. The pencil had fallen from the ceiling when the n'thrals crashed into his office. He wrapped his fingers around the pencil while the n'thral's attention was focused on Skinner. Davis let out a bellow as Mulder jammed the pencil through his eye. The n'thral dropped Mulder as he attempted to pull the pencil out and the agent rolled out of his way.

Several agents dashed into the room, placing the n'thrals under arrest. Skinner went over to Mulder's side and helped him to his feet.

"Agent Mulder, are you injured in any way?" Skinner asked, picking up Mulder's eyeglasses that had fallen off in the scuffle.

"No. I'm okay. How did you know?" Mulder asked, keeping away from Davis as he was handcuffed and escorted out of his office.

"Intuition, when I was about to step off the elevator I sensed that something was wrong. Agents Sullivan and Boutotte were just getting on, so I had Sullivan accompany me back down here while Boutotte went for backup. Of course, if I'd been wrong I would have looked like an idiot," Skinner grinned softly.

"Well, I'm glad you went with your intuition, sir. If you'll excuse me, I'm going home . . . I really need to brush my teeth and take a shower," Mulder said. A look of utter revulsion was written across his features.

"That's very understandable, Agent Mulder. I'll drive you, I don't think you should be alone right now," Skinner replied, pulling out his keys.

The other agents standing in his office made it impossible for Mulder to protest without questioning Skinner's authority, and after his boss had just saved his life he didn't want to do that. He meekly retrieved his suit coat from the floor and allowed Skinner to drive him home.

Rex greeted them at the door, he was happy to see the large bald man with his human.

"Hey, Rex," Skinner purred. Petting the dog, he looked up at Mulder. "Mulder, do those n'thrals always hang out in front of your building?"

"Yes." Mulder headed into his bedroom and started to undress.

"Doesn't having them out there frighten you?" Skinner asked, standing in the doorway watching him.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Several of my neighbors have already moved because of them, and their apartments were taken over by more n'thrals. The director said that he was going to try to do something about them," Mulder replied wishfully, standing only in his silk boxers.

"If the director said that, then they're as good as out of here," Skinner replied.

"Well, I hope he does it soon because I'm almost out of clean clothes," Mulder quipped, dropping his socks on top of the already overflowing laundry hamper.

Skinner raised an eyebrow questioningly as he studied the scars on Mulder's lean, runner's body.

Mulder shrugged his shoulders at Skinner's unasked question. "I don't go downstairs to the laundry room in the basement anymore. Even with my gun and Rex I'm afraid of being trapped down there by a group of n'thrals," he confessed, crossing his arms over his bare chest, suddenly aware of his boss's scrutiny.

"Mulder, tomorrow's Saturday. Why don't you gather up all of your dirty laundry and bring it over to my place, you can use my washer and dryer. I'll even fix us lunch," Skinner suggested.

"Okay, if you're sure I won't be intruding?" Mulder asked, chewing on his bottom lip.

"I'm sure, I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise. Now, go and grab your shower, then I'll take you to dinner and drinks at Mike's," Skinner replied.

"Sir, are you asking me on a date?" Mulder quipped, sauntering past his boss on the way to the bathroom. He carried a change of clothes with him.

Skinner resisted the urge to say yes, instead he opted for the more diplomatic response. "Agent Mulder, I just don't want you to be alone right now. Besides, it's been a week since I had one of Mike's thick, juicy burgers."

Mulder stopped in the bathroom doorway. "I didn't know you went to Mike's. I'd better hurry, we'll never get a table if we don't get there before 3:30."

"Yeah, tell me about it! I usually have to stand to eat my burger," Skinner shouted so Mulder could hear him behind the closed bathroom door. He walked over to Mulder's shelving unit to look at his fish, then picked up a photo of a twelve-year old Mulder and his sister. Rex followed him around the room wagging his tail.

Once in the shower, Mulder gave in to his emotions, bursting into tears and shaking with fear. He had never felt so totally helpless as when Davis assaulted him today. God, if Skinner hadn't rescued him when he did, he didn't want to think of what might have happened. He scrubbed his skin hard and washed his hair three times before climbing out of the shower. After drying himself, Mulder brushed his teeth until his gums bled, then rinsed his mouth out with mouthwash. He almost became physically ill when he noticed the discoloration on his throat where the bastard's mouth had sucked him. Mulder studied his eyes closely, making sure they weren't red from crying. The last thing he wanted was for Skinner to see him as weak. Satisfied, he started pulling on his clothes.

Skinner glanced up from playing with Rex when Mulder stepped into the room. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah."

On the walk over to the tavern, Skinner noticed how close Rex stayed to Mulder, and the way dog kept scanning the area for any danger. He wondered if Mulder was aware of how meticulous his dog was about his safety.

They entered the already crowded tavern, and Mulder steered Skinner over to his usual table in front of the window, which was the only unoccupied table in the pub. Most of the customers preferred seats away from the window, but Mulder liked being able to see what was happening outside.

Mike came over immediately with their usual drink orders, Guinness Stout for Skinner and Bass Ale for Mulder, he was surprised to see the two men together. Walter Skinner had started coming in regularly about two months ago. Since most of the other restaurants had closed, his clientele had increased substantially. Skinner usually came after work for a beer and a burger, and Mulder only came in after jogging on Saturdays. "Hey, Mulder, Walter, I should have figured you two would know each other, considering you both work for the FBI."

"Hi, Mike. Sk . . . Walter's my boss."

"Walter, you're lucky to have a man of Mulder's character and intelligence working for you. I hope you realize that?" Mike replied.

Skinner grinned up at Mike, appreciating the man's comments. He knew it did Mulder's low self-esteem a world of good to be so openly praised. "Don't worry, Mike, I'm well aware of how lucky the FBI is to have Mulder as an agent, and just for the record, he is my *best* agent."

"Good." Mike winked over at Mulder who was embarrassed because of the attention. "Rex, I haven't forgotten you, I'll be right back with your bowl of water," he replied, patting the dog on the head.

On the other side of the bar sat a middle-aged man who was keeping a close eye on the two men. Bill Zalk was one of the regular patrons of the pub and he had been keeping an eye on Skinner for several weeks now. He was there every weeknight when Skinner stopped by after work. The man was a newly mutated clairvoyant; he had used his new abilities to read the handsome bald man's thoughts and liked what he found there. Zalk was determined to get to know Skinner on a romantic level.

He stared hatefully at Mulder, he recognized the man as a regular customer of Mike's, too. He had just finished reading Mulder's mind and learned that he was attracted to Walter Skinner. Skinner's thoughts shocked him, the bald man was hopelessly in love with the younger man, Skinner actually thought he might stand a chance of having those feelings returned someday, but Mulder was currently clueless about the A.D.'s feelings for him. So, all that Zalk had to do was convince Walter Skinner that he'd never stand a chance with Fox Mulder.

Bill Zalk sat back and spent the rest of the evening reading both men's minds, trying to find a wedge that would permanently separate them. He smiled slyly as he finally hit upon his wedge.

The sun was still bright in the sky when Mike's closed, like all establishments it was required by law to close an hour before dusk. Mulder felt much better as they walked back to his apartment building; five hours in Skinner's company had brightened his spirits, he hadn't even thought about Davis the whole time. He was only sorry that the evening had to end so soon, it was nice to have someone to talk to who shared many of the same experiences with him.

"Hey, Mulder, you're looking hot," Freddy greeted. He was leaning up against the building smoking a cigarette.

Skinner glared at the young n'thral, turning back to his agent. "Mulder, are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Sir, I'll be fine. Thanks for dinner, I'll see you tomorrow." Mulder turned and headed up the steps into the building with Rex.

Skinner stood silently watching him before getting in his car and driving away.

***

Next day
Skinner's apartment

Mulder chuckled at Skinner's extravagant show of fixing them lunch. He itched to take the seasonings away from the man when he realized his boss didn't have much experience in the kitchen. Why did men always make chili? He watched in shock as Skinner sprinkled a lot more cayenne pepper into the pot, then started chopping up some more jalapeño peppers.

"Ah, sir, you have made this before?"

"Yes, it's my specialty," he said, then wiped his hands on the striped apron he was wearing.

//If he says it will put hair on my chest, I'm going to shoot him.// Mulder thought, smiling.

"You're going to love it. It will put hair on your chest." Skinner smiled at him; then turned back to the stove and dumped more peppers into the pot.

"What did you think of the President's speech last night?" Mulder asked, trying to take his mind off his boss's culinary skills. He watched Skinner's tight ass sway in those faded blue jeans as the larger man moved back and forth in front of the stove. Skinner was wearing a form fitting T-shirt that showed of his muscular body nicely.

"I think this country is heading into serious trouble, there are too many restrictions and unnecessary laws that are being implemented. However, I do like the adoption policy he's implementing," Skinner replied.

"Yeah, it was a good idea to put clairvoyants in charge of screening men that want to adopt the boys, it will eliminate any sexual deviants getting their hands on them," Mulder replied, scanning through the sports page.

"Here, Mulder, taste this," Skinner said, bringing a spoonful of his chili over to the counter. Rex walked over and stared up at the two men, wondering why the bald man was hand feeding his human.

Mulder looked at the contents on the spoon, giving Skinner a weak smile. //He's letting you use his washer and dryer, it's the least you can do.// He made sure his bottle of beer was close by before opening his mouth and allowing Skinner to feed him. "Hothothot," Mulder muttered, grabbing his beer he washed down the chili.

"Good isn't it?" Skinner asked, sincerely pleased with Mulder's reaction because chili wasn't good unless it's hot.

"Yeah, great," Mulder gasped, his eyes tearing.

"Fine, I'll scoop us up a couple of large bowls full."

Mulder forced himself to finish the whole bowl, not wanting to hurt Skinner's feelings; the man did seem pleased with himself. He helped his boss with the dishes then they wandered in to the living room to watch a couple movies Skinner had rented.

"I still think the first Lethal Weapon movie was the best," Mulder said as the last movie ended.

"I thought the second movie was better. That bathroom scene was a riot," Skinner chuckled.

"Yeah, there is that. Well, Rex and I better be leaving. Walter, thanks for having us over and letting me use your was washer and dryer," Mulder murmured.

"Anytime, Mulder," Skinner replied, smiling, he couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed anyone's company as much as Mulder's. He hated to see him leave, maybe he should tell Mulder how he felt about him. The thought of waking up next to Mulder every morning was something he desired deeply, sharing their lives together, being there for each other. Skinner wondered if Mulder would be able to handle such a commitment, he would have to feel him out over time because once he had Mulder in his bed he had no intention of ever letting him go.

***

Three Weeks later
Mike's Tavern
Friday, July 31
6:00 p.m.

"Hi, Walter, I saved you a seat," Bill Zalk greeted.

"Thanks, Bill," Skinner replied, taking a seat across from the man in the crowded pub. He had met Zalk here two weeks ago and to his amazement, they had a lot in common. Skinner noticed the frown on his new friend's face.

"Is there something wrong, Bill?"

"Yeah, the last three days I've been getting these weird images in my head. Then I started to pick up other people's thoughts telepathically," he said with false sadness, then showed Skinner his hand -- there was a new tattoo on it. The tattoo was the one that the government started using two weeks ago to brand all clairvoyants.

Because businesses feared that their companies' secrets might be stolen, they had gone to the government and demanded that some action be taken to identify the growing number of clairvoyants. The government, who had a similar fear involving national defense secrets, responded immediately. DNA testing of all private and public sector employees to identify the men with the clairvoyant strain of the virus was mandated because of the lack of physical symptoms.

"You're a clairvoyant," Skinner gasped.

"Yeah, pretty weird. I'm having a hard time keeping other people's thoughts out of my head," Zalk replied. Just as he planned, at that precise moment, Mulder strolled into the tavern with Rex.

Mulder had received a call that Mike needed to see him, he frowned at the stranger behind the bar. "Hi, is Mike around?"

"No, Mike went to Boston to visit his father," the man replied.

Mulder glanced nervously around the crowded bar, his eyes finally rested on the back of Skinner's familiar bald head. Relieved, Mulder made his way over to his boss's table. "Sir, mind if we join you?"

"Agent Mulder, no, please, have a seat," Skinner replied, pleasantly surprised. "Hey, Rex, how are you boy?" he said, patting the dog's head.

Mulder stared over at Bill Zalk, he recognized the man as a regular here. "Fox Mulder," he said, introducing himself to the man next to him.

"Bill Zalk," the man replied, shaking his hand. Zalk quickly pulled his hand away when Rex started growling at him.

"Rex, what's wrong?" Mulder asked, grabbing the dog by the collar to prevent him from attacking Zalk. "Sorry, I don't know what's gotten into him." When Mulder couldn't get Rex to calm down, he sighed, "We'd better leave."

"Mulder, it's probably just the crowd and the noise, there seems to be almost twice as many people crammed in here tonight," Skinner reasoned.

"Yeah, that must be it. Still, I'd better get him out of here before he bites someone. See you at work on Monday," Mulder said, standing to leave.

"Mulder, how's your laundry problem?" Skinner asked quickly, hoping for an excuse to invite Mulder over to his apartment again.

"Fixed. The director was good at his word. All of the n'thrals have been moved out of my building, and he even had them moved out of neighborhood. Didn't you notice the total lack of them hanging out in the neighborhood when you drove down here?" Mulder asked.

"Yeah, now that you mentioned it, I did notice," Skinner replied with just a hint of sadness, now there was no excuse for him to invite Mulder over tomorrow.

"Bye," Mulder said, leading Rex out of the tavern.

"Walter, it wouldn't have worked anyway," Zalk said, taking a sip of beer.

"What wouldn't have worked?" Skinner asked, watching as Mulder passed by the outside window on his way home.

"You and Mulder. He happens to be involved sexually with another man," Zalk informed him.

Skinner eyebrows shot up. "How do you . . .?"

Zalk held up his hand showing Skinner his tattoo, reminding him that if anyone would know, he would.

Skinner looked him squarely in the face, he was angry that the man had read his thoughts about Mulder, but he needed to know. "Who?"

"Joshua Campbell . . ." Zalk hid his grin at the sheer look of outrage on Skinner's handsome face.

The name wasn't familiar, but all the same, Skinner was shocked that Mulder had lied to him. He told Skinner that he had never had sex with another man when he was currently involved in a sexual relationship with one. Mulder had totally betrayed the trust they had built between them.

Skinner stood to leave; he needed to be alone. The knowledge that the man he loved was sharing his bed with another man broke his heart. How could Mulder have done this to him?

"Walter, where are you going?" Zalk asked, he hadn't predicted the total devastation that his little lie would cause.

"Home. I'm not hungry any longer," Skinner replied sadly. He was determined never to set foot inside this tavern again or to come close to Mulder on a personal level again -- he didn't want to chance ever seeing Mulder with this Joshua Campbell.

Zalk sadly watched Skinner leave, realizing that his gambit for a romantic relationship with the man had failed and he had lost him for good. "Shit, Bill you're an idiot," he muttered.

***

Mulder's apartment
Thursday, August 20
6:00 p.m.

"C'mon, Rex," Mulder grumbled, opening the door to his apartment. He had just picked up his dog from Skinner's apartment after being out of town for three days on assignment. Skinner had treated him coldly, not even inviting him up to his place to get Rex. Instead, his boss just brought Rex down to the lobby, handing him the leash without saying a word to him.

It had been the same for the past three weeks with Skinner keeping him at arms length. Mulder had thought their relationship had moved to a close friendship. He felt betrayed that another person he had grown to like, admire, and depend on, wanted nothing to do with him. When would he ever learn not to allow himself to get too close to anyone, everyone deserted him in the end. Well, he had learned his lesson with Skinner, he realized now that his boss had only befriended him out of pity, and when Skinner saw that he was becoming too needy, he put an end to it. God, he had definitely learned! He would never allow anyone that close to him again, the pain was too great when they left, and they always left. To make matters worse, he had started to feel strange yesterday. Today he could barely stay awake and he thought he might be running a fever.

Mulder dropped his suitcase next to the door, closing, and locking it. He staggered exhaustedly over to the sofa and sank down. Rex rested his head on Mulder's lap, staring up at his human with concerned brown eyes. "At least you still like me," Mulder mumbled, scratching Rex behind his ears, his hand dropped as he fell asleep still dressed.

Rex knew something was wrong, but was unable to do anything to help Mulder. He jumped up on the sofa and lay down next to him, watching over him as he slept.

The light pouring in through the window was what eventually woke Mulder. He opened his eyes and peered down at Rex who was still up watching him. "Morning, boy," Mulder muttered. Rex barked in greeting, and licked his human's face.

"What time is it?" he asked, looking toward the desk clock. "Shit, I'm late! Skinner is just looking for a reason to ream me." Mulder stood too quickly and a wave of dizziness made him sit back down. He put his head between his legs, groaning until the room stopped spinning.

Once the room stopped moving, he cautiously rose from the sofa and walked into the bathroom. He stripped out of his wrinkled clothes from last night, leaving them where they dropped on the bathroom floor. Mulder took a quick shower, hoping that the cold water would help him wake up. As he shaved, he distantly thought that there was something different with his face, but he couldn't pinpoint it.

Rex followed him around, watching anxiously as his human dressed. He sensed that the man he loved needed his protection now more than ever before. He tentatively ate the food Mulder poured into his bowl, keeping one eye on his human at all times.

The dog's nose nudging his hand finally got his attention, he had been staring blindly off into space. "Oh, c'mon, Rex, let's get to work," Mulder mumbled.

The car horn honking behind him woke Mulder from his slumber, and he quickly drove through the green light, embarrassed that he had fallen to asleep behind the wheel. "God, what is wrong with me?"

Once in the J. Edgar Hoover Building, Mulder and Rex headed right down to his basement office. The agent inserted his key into the lock on the new steel door, pushing it open. He made it almost to his desk, when the room started spinning violently and his eyes rolled back in his head as he passed out, crashing to the floor. He cut his head open on the edge of the desk and the wound started bleeding.

Rex came over to Mulder's body whimpering and licking his sweaty face. After twenty minutes and his human still wouldn't wakeup, Rex took off to find the bald man to help him. The dog used his mouth to open the door to the stairwell, he dashed up the steps and stopped on the floor his human would go to when visiting the bald man's office.

The dog raced through the bullpen on his way to Skinner's office. The other agents recognized Mulder's dog and started to follow him. Rex barked loudly to get the bald man's attention, and an annoyed Skinner opened his office door and peered out angrily at Rex, then looked around for Mulder to tell him to keep his dog quiet.

Rex ran over to him, grabbed Skinner's sleeve with his mouth, and started pulling the large human toward the stairs.

"Rex, what's wrong? Is it Mulder?" A look of concern flashed across Skinner's face. The other agents exchanged looks and they all raced for the stairs leading down to Mulder's office.

Walter Skinner beat them to the basement office; his heart was racing a mile a minute out of fear, when he saw Mulder lying motionless on the floor, it stopped and leapt into his throat. He quickly pulled himself together and knelt beside Mulder's body. "Someone call an ambulance, he's burning up!" Skinner brushed the bangs out of Mulder's eyes, noting the dried blood on his forehead, but he couldn't find where the blood had come from, he thought Mulder appeared different, younger.

After doing a quick check of Mulder's vitals, Skinner removed his suit coat and placed it under the agent's head. He looked up at the men milling around in the doorway. "Where's that fucking ambulance?" he growled anxiously.

"Sir, it's on its way," Sullivan replied. "Agent Boutotte is upstairs waiting for it, he'll show the paramedics down here as soon as they arrive."

Rex lay down, resting his head on Mulder's stomach, he whimpered sadly. His human's scent was changing and that was making him sad, he no longer smelled like a human being. The dog sniffed his human's new scent, memorizing it.

***

D.C. General Hospital
Friday, August 21
11:00 a.m.

Skinner had accompanied Mulder to the hospital, he now sat outside the examination room, waiting for Doctor Harris to come out and tell him what was wrong. He felt guilty, if he hadn't been keeping his distance, he might have noticed that there was a problem, then the young man might not be lying unconscious in the next room. An intern came rushing out of the room carrying a tray; he rushed pass Skinner on his way to the lab.

As Skinner continued to wait, he wondered whether he should make the effort to find Mulder's lover. He knew it was selfish, but it hurt too much to think about looking for him. He knew that by locating him, he would be admitting to Mulder that he not only knew about the relationship, but also knew about Mulder's lies. No . . . if Mulder wanted to call him when he regained consciousness he could, but Skinner did not intend to inflict that type of pain on himself.

An hour later Doctor Harris stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Skinner stood immediately and walked over to him. "Sam, what's wrong with him?"

"Walter, please sit down," Harris said, leading the distraught man back over to the row of chairs. He sat in one and waited until Skinner sat beside him before trying to explain the unexplainable.

"Fox Mulder is mutating. It doesn't fit the symptoms of the other four known mutations that we've seen over the last five months. I'm not sure what to make of it, I sent some blood and tissue samples down to the lab for analysis. I'm sorry, Walter, I know you care about the young man . . . I wish there was more that I could tell you," Harris patted Skinner's thigh as the larger man leaned back in shock.

"Sam, what is he mutating into? Do you know?" Skinner's voice was thick with pain and sorrow. Could Mulder be turning into something more gruesome than a ghoul or n'thral? He just couldn't bear the thought that the beautiful man he was in love with might be turning into some vile monster.

"Walter, it's too early to say for sure. I don't even know how long it will take him to mutate. It took the men with the Neanderthal mutation three weeks for the initial part of their mutation, and they're still changing, evolving. Clairvoyants and sorcerers took between ten and twelve weeks and new ones are still showing up. I think it may depend on each individual as to how long and when their bodies start mutating."

"Sam, can I see him?"

"Sure, but he's unconscious, which is another strange thing about his mutation. All of the other men were awake throughout their mutation, no matter how painful the change was for them. Mulder's body seems to be protecting him from any pain or discomfort."

"Well, at least that's one good thing," Skinner sighed. He was glad that Mulder wasn't mentally aware of what was happening to him. He prepared himself for the worst as he followed Harris toward the room.

"I'm going to have him placed into a private room as soon as an orderly is available to move him," Doctor Harris informed him as they walked into the examination room.

Mulder lay on his back on the small examination table, his clothes had been removed, and the only thing covering his nakedness was a thin paper sheet. Skinner walked up to the side of the table looking down at the man who had his heart. He breathed a sigh of relief; Mulder was still as beautiful as ever, looking closer, Skinner had to admit that he was even more beautiful. A puzzled look crossed his face. "Sam, the scars on his chest are gone." Under the bright light of the examination room, Skinner also noticed that the faint lines of age that had started to show on Mulder's face in the last few years had vanished. His skin was left smooth and blemish free -- he looked over ten years younger.

"I noticed that and the one on his thigh has almost vanished, too," Harris said, lifting up the sheet to show Skinner his agent's thigh.

Skinner caught his breath, staring at Mulder's perfectly shaped penis lying against his thigh, he forced his eyes away and stared at Mulder's thigh where the gunshot scar had been. "It's gone. Sam, do you think it's possible that his mutation is healing his body and making him younger?"

"I think it's more than possible."

"Sam, instead of waiting for an orderly to arrive, I'll move him into a private room myself, I don't like him lying here exposed. Just show me where to take him," Skinner said earnestly.

"Walter, there's a gurney outside the door, wheel it in and I'll help you move him."

After Doctor Harris helped Skinner move Mulder into a private hospital room, the doctor left to call the CDC and report the new form of mutation.

***

D.C. General Hospital
Monday, August 24
4:00 p.m.

Mulder awoke three days later to the sound of people arguing nearby. He recognized Skinner's growl, and vaguely recognized the second voice. He opened his eyes to a room full of warm light and dazzling colors; the fragrance of flowers filled his senses. The clarity and vividness of the objects around him took his breath away; he had never seen anything so well in his life. There was a large vase of flowers sitting on a table by the window and he lay enraptured by their sheer beauty. It suddenly occurred to him that he could see the colors green and red, they were no longer shades of gray. He pulled his eyes away from the colorful bouquet, looking over to the doorway where his boss stood arguing with Doctor Emmett Wells from the CDC.

"He's staying here!" Skinner growled, getting into the face of the CDC doctor.

"A.D. Skinner, we need him at our facility so we can study him," the doctor growled back, he was equally as menacing. "Damnit, we've never seen this type of mutation before! Close to half of the world's population has mutated and Agent Mulder's mutation is the first of its kind!" he stressed, annoyed.

"You don't know that, Doctor. Communications have been cut to nearly half the countries on the globe, Mulder may not be the only man with this type of mutation," Skinner replied hotly.

"Well, he's the only fucking one on this continent so far!" Doctor Wells snarled.

Mulder had been so fascinated by the tone and pitch of the men's voices that he hadn't been focusing on what they were saying. It finally sunk in that they were arguing about him. What did Doctor Wells mean by the only one? What had happened to him? Why was he in the hospital? Those questions all flashed simultaneously through Mulder's mind.

Skinner glanced into the room toward the bed like he had done for the last three days. Each time he looked it seemed that Mulder had become even more surreally beautiful, until there was only the vision that was staring back at him now. His breath caught in his throat, Mulder's eyes went from brilliant golden brown to a sparkling emerald green when he met Skinner's eyes. The frightened look on Mulder's face tore at the older man's heart.

"Agent Mulder, how are you feeling?" Skinner asked softly, going quickly to his side.

"Why am I here? What's going on? Where the hell is my dog?" he rambled off anxiously.

"Rex is in good hands. Agent Sullivan is looking after him, and so are all the young boys at Viva Tower. Mulder, you lost consciousness at the office on Friday. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you have spent the last three days mutating," Skinner said gently.

"Damn." Mulder raised his hands and studied them. They weren't any larger or sickly white, but they were smoother and a scar he had received almost thirty years ago was gone. "What mutation do I have?" he asked, puzzled.

Doctor Wells stepped quietly up to the bed, looking down at the beautiful young man. His cock hardened in an uncontrollable surge of lust, and he quickly buttoned his lab coat over his swelling erection. "Agent Mulder, we don't know . . . it's a totally new mutation. None of the documents you provided me with had anything remotely similar to it listed. I want you . . . I . . . you . . . come CDC . . . " The doctor lost himself in Mulder's eyes, not remembering or caring where he was, he leaned down and attempted to ravage Mulder's lush mouth.

Skinner grabbed Wells pulling him away from a very stunned Mulder; he strong-armed the doctor out of the room. Mulder heard Skinner yelling at Wells in the hallway.

"That is *why* he is not going to the CDC! Your people don't have the willpower to keep their hands off him! I have to stand guard every time one of *your* people comes to take a blood sample from him. Thank god, Harris doesn't have the same problem as *your* people do! Otherwise, I would never have gotten any sleep!" Skinner bellowed.

Doctor Wells' whispered question piqued Mulder's curiosity even more.

"How do you resist him?"

"Willpower, Doctor, *sheer* willpower." Skinner left out that he loved Mulder too much to touch him against his will. If the doctor's response to Mulder was indicative of others then Skinner was going to have to assign a security team to Mulder for his own safety. The question was how would he choose a team that would be able to resist Mulder.

Something was seriously up, and Mulder couldn't take it any longer. So he threw off the covers and climbed out of bed, walking toward the small bathroom. He froze in front of the mirror; the man staring back at him was perfect, flawless, and ageless. He touched his chestnut brown hair marveling at the thickness, silky texture, and rich color. His hospital gown had slipped; revealing his shoulder, the shoulder Scully had shot him in many years ago, and the scar was gone.

Mulder pulled the gown away from his chest and peered down at his body -- no scars anywhere. He turned at the sound behind him, his eyes wide with bewilderment. Walter Skinner stood poised in the doorway, watching him.

"Where are my clothes? I want to leave," Mulder said, his voice trembled.

"You can't leave, Agent Mulder. Doctor Harris thinks that you're still changing, and it's no longer safe for you to be by yourself," Skinner informed him, blocking the bathroom doorway.

"I'm not by myself . . . I have Rex." Mulder stared defiantly at his boss, the man he had thought was his friend. Then angrily turned his back on him.

Skinner shifted uncomfortably on his feet, it was hard to look at or be near Mulder without becoming aroused, and the view of Mulder's perfectly shaped buttocks from the opened back of the hospital gown was his undoing. He quickly turned and fled the room, stopping in the hallway to try to get his libido back under control. Doctor Harris came down the hallway and stopped in front of Skinner, studying the man's arousal with concern.

"Pheromones," Harris said.

"Pheromones? What do you mean, Sam?" Skinner breathed heavily, leaning against the wall.

"Its what is making men uncontrollably horny around him. Mulder's body is producing a special type of pheromone. I'm not affected because I loss the ability to smell years ago. I'd like to try an experiment with you and a few other men to see what happens if we subdue your sense of smell. I'd like to see if you'll be able to be around Mulder without becoming instantly aroused," Harris said, nodding at the bulge in Skinner's pants.

"Sam, please, I'd try anything if it meant that I could be near him without the fear that I might lose control and attack him. I also want to assign a team of agents to protect him, can we use them in this experiment?" Skinner asked.

"Sure, I think that's a good idea because looking like he does now, Mulder will never be safe in this society. He's going to need constant protection." Harris headed toward the door to Mulder's hospital room.

Mulder was standing in front of the window staring out. He had been listening in on their conversation, besides his more than perfect eyesight, his hearing had improved, too.

"Mulder, it's nice to see that you're finally awake," Harris said, coming into the room.

"Doctor Harris, I want to leave, where are my clothes?" Mulder asked sadly. Knowing that Skinner's concern for him was out of pity. He did not want his boss's pity again. He'd gotten along for years with no one in his life until Dana Scully, and he could do it again. He did not need people; it was better to be alone.

"Mulder, you can't leave yet, if you went out by yourself now you'd be attacked. I want to try some experiments to prevent that from happening."

The agent knew that the doctor was right. No way did he want another n'thral to attack him. "Okay, Doctor, on one condition," Mulder sighed.

"What's that, Mulder?"

"I don't want Skinner here," he said.

"Agent Mulder, you can forget about it," Skinner growled from the doorway. "Even if I weren't your direct supervisor, I'd still have authority over your case as the FBI's liaison with the other agencies handling mutants."

Angered by his total lack of options, Mulder snapped at the larger man. "Okay! Fine! Whatever! Can I at least have something to wear?" His bottom lip quivered and tears threatened to spill, he spun around so his back was to them then quickly reached back and held the gown closed.

Skinner realized that part of Mulder's hostility came from how he'd been treating him for the past month. God, he'd been an idiot to go from being Mulder's friend to holding him at arms length. A man with Mulder's low self-worth was bound to see that as some sort of betrayal.

"Agent Mulder, I'll send Agent Sullivan to your apartment tomorrow to pick up some clothes for you to wear. For tonight, I'll try to scrounge you up some hospital scrubs. Sam, when will you be ready to begin those tests?" Skinner asked.

"Immediately, I've developed a nasal spray that should impede your sense of smell. In addition, I'd like you to rub Vicks Vapor Rub under your nose. I'm positive that the combination of the two substances should work." Harris pulled out both items from his smock pocket and passed them to Skinner.

Mulder watched as Skinner used the two items then walked directly over to him. Skinner put his nose to the side of his throat and sniffed him with his eyes closed.

"Sam, it's working. I think once I get used to the way he looks it shouldn't be a problem maintaining my control." Skinner pulled away and made the mistake of opening his eyes. He gazed into two liquid pools of golden-green eyes; he could not pull his eyes away from Mulder's beautiful face.

Mulder was the one who finally stepped away. "Sir, I fail to see how this will help, we can't force men to use it," he replied.

"No. However, the agents assigned to your security detail will use it, and they'll make sure that you are not threatened by any n'thrals or humans." Skinner looked over at him, then quickly averted his eyes, that hospital gown was too sheer against the light coming in through the window.

"Am I to assume that this security detail will be only for when I'm working?" Mulder asked annoyed.

"No, they'll be with you anytime you leave your apartment. That's another thing, Mulder, I really think you should move into Viva Tower."

"No, I'm not moving . . . I happen to like where I live and my privacy," he huffed. "So what am I suppose to do? Beep them anytime I want to go out?"

"For now that seems like a good idea. Mulder, I don't want you to think that this as some sort of punishment, it's necessary for your safety. You remember how Davis and the other n'thrals attacked you in your office, you're a thousand times more desirable now," Skinner warned.

"Sir, I'm going along with this because I really don't have any choice. Now, if you don't mind, I really would like to be left alone."

Skinner wanted to take Mulder into his arms and comfort him, but after his recent behavior, he had lost all hope of ever being allowed to do that. It tore at his guts to see the total hopelessness and desolation in Mulder's changeable hazel eyes. "Okay, I'll be right down the hall if you need anything," Skinner said, allowing Doctor Harris to precede him out of the room.

***

J. Edgar Hoover Building
Monday, September 21
11:30 a.m.

Mulder opened the door to his new office which used to belong to A.D. Jana Cassidy; the office was located on the top floor next to the executive suite where the director's office was. This time he couldn't even reason with the director to allow him to stay in the basement. The man took one look at him and was on the telephone immediately. The building's moving crew was ordered to move him up here that same day.

His X-Files agents had been moved to the new bullpen area set up outside his office. The bullpen smelled like Vicks Vapor Rub. Mulder grimaced every time he had to walk through it. He hoped that Doctor Harris would quickly develop a drug that would stop the sexual pheromones his body was producing so his men weren't forced to continue to suppress their sense of smell.

He sat behind his desk going over his agent's reports, making notes in the columns. He then placed one report inside a plastic tube. "Rex, take this to Agent Sullivan," Mulder said, holding out the tube for his dog to take.

Rex loped happily out of the office and into the maze of cubicles, stopping at Agent Sullivan's desk. He stood on his hind legs and dropped the tube into Sullivan's inbox.

"Hey, Rex, are you running Mulder's errands again?" Sullivan chuckled with amusement. The German Shepherd had surprised everyone with how intelligent he was at performing tasks around the office.

Rex barked, allowing Sullivan to scratch him behind his ears.

"Good boy," the agent praised. "Why don't we go see if Mulder wants us to get him lunch?"

Sullivan knocked on Mulder's door. "Hey, Mulder, Rex and I are heading down to the cafeteria do you want us to bring you back anything?"

"Sure, Jack, if you don't mind, can you get me a ham sandwich on rye," Mulder replied, pulling a five dollar bill from his wallet, he handed it Sullivan.

"We'll be right back. Come along, Rex."

Mulder was grateful for Sullivan's tact. The other agent knew how uncomfortable he was about going to the cafeteria. He had tried to get lunch there on his first day back to work three weeks ago. However, he couldn't handle the lewd stares and the wolf whistles that followed him through the line; he ended up fleeing back to his office without eating.

Other agents had even started hanging around the parking garage at quitting time to see him as he left with his security detail. Mulder started varying the times that he left for the day, but that didn't help, the men were still there when he left. Agent Pipino finally discovered what was happening. The men were paying another agent who had the clairvoyant mutation to find out when Mulder was leaving for the day. A.D. Skinner quickly put an end to that behavior, but the whole incident highlighted how different Mulder was now from the other men in the bureau. He was feeling increasingly isolated and alone every passing day.

Mulder refused to see the lone gunmen when they called and wanted to come over. He didn't want them to see him like this . . . he was ashamed at how beautiful he was. He even went as far as to slash his face trying to mar his looks, but the wounds healed perfectly in hours.

Mulder looked up from his computer screen as Skinner entered his office. "Agent Mulder, you know that in your present condition I'd never approved your request for an out of state case. Why did you even bother to submit this to me?"

"Sir, I'm still a FBI agent, you have no right to coddle me. Let me do my job!" Mulder snapped.

"When Doctor Harris finds a way to control your pheromones then I'll sign this, but I'm not sending you out on cases before then. Do you have a death wish, Mulder? Do you want to be raped and sexually assaulted?" Skinner asked angrily.

"No, sir," he sighed.

"Good," Skinner growled, dropping the request in the wastebasket by Mulder's desk. He turned and stormed out of the office.

"So, what's wrong with Skinner?" Sullivan asked, entering the office a couple seconds later. He placed a sandwich on the desk in front of Mulder.

"He doesn't like my attitude, and he's beginning to resent my presence here. Let's face it, Jack, I'm no longer qualified to be a FBI agent, and he knows it. I should just give him a break and resign," he grumbled.

"Mulder, stop feeling sorry for yourself . . . you know that's not true. A.D. Skinner respects and admires you. Okay, you can't go out in the field any longer, but that doesn't make you any less of an agent. Look at Skinner, he hardly ever goes into the field or what about Gabriel Hunter? He didn't give up even after he was blinded in that explosion." Sullivan argued.

"It's not the same thing. Not only can I not go out on cases, I can't do anything alone anymore. Both Skinner and Hunter can come and go as they please. They're not 'protected' twenty-four hours a day . . . they haven't lost their freedom."

"Look, Mulder, I know it's hard right now for you. Give it a little time and you'll get used to the changes in your life. Everyone has had to make changes and adjust to some horrible things lately. You'll adjust, too."

Mulder sighed, picking at the sandwich, he didn't want to continue this discussion. Sullivan just didn't understand. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right, I'll adjust."

"Good. What time do you want to leave tonight?" Sullivan asked.

"I should be done with these reports by 5:00 p.m., so let's leave at 4:00 p.m.," Mulder smirked.

"Okay, I'll swing back then." Sullivan turned and left the office heading back to his cubicle.

***

Three weeks later
Mulder's apartment
Friday, October 9
6:30 p.m.

His drapes were tightly drawn against the outside world. The life he knew now existed primarily within these walls and his small office at the FBI. The apartment next door was rented by the FBI for his two-man security detail, they were assigned to him twenty-four hours a day. The men alternated weekly from a pool of eight other agents. This week it was Agents Pipino and Boutotte, next week, Agents Jameson and Jackson were scheduled. At least they all left him alone, when he was home.

There was a knock on his door and a couple of short barks. Mulder opened it to let Rex back into the apartment. "Thanks, Vinny," he murmured sadly. He hated that he could no longer take his own dog out for a walk without being accosted by reporters and male admirers.

"No problem, Mulder. Is there anything else you need?"

//My life back.// He thought sadly, frowning. "No. Thanks."

"Just call us if you need anything," Vinny Pipino said, waiting for Mulder to close his door and lock it before going back next door.

"Hey, Phil, throw me a beer," Pipino shouted as he entered the apartment.

Boutotte came out of the kitchen handing Pipino a beer. "How's Mulder doing?"

"Sulking. He should be happy he didn't mutate into a n'thral or a ghoul."

"We should be grateful that he didn't turn into a n'thral," Boutotte chuckled. "What do you want for dinner, we have several packages of Stouffers in the freezer or a Tombstone pizza."

"Phil, you've known me for how long? Never ask me to eat one of those cardboard pizzas," he huffed. "I'll make you a real pizza on Sunday when we're off *babysitting* duty," Pipino replied, heading into the kitchen.

"Excuse me, Vinny, I sometimes forget what a connoisseur you are," Boutotte snickered.

Next door, Mulder sat on his kitchen floor with his back against the cabinet petting Rex as he ate. "Babysitting duty! Rex, I wonder if they realize how thin these walls are? Or how good my hearing is?"

 

Rex looked up from his meal then licked Mulder's face. He wanted his human not to be sad, and he wanted to go out running with him again. Rex didn't like going walking with the strange men that watched Mulder -- he didn't like to leave his human alone.

Mulder stood and walked into his bedroom, he'd been sleeping on the waterbed since Rex had moved in with him. The dog took great pleasure in beating him to the sofa every evening. Mulder sighed when he saw the overflowing laundry hamper. "Well, it should at least be safe enough for me to go down to the laundry room in the basement. After all, I'm an armed FBI agent with a overly protective guard dog," he muttered, filling the laundry basket with his dirty clothes. Placing the bottle of detergent on top, he then grabbed the book he was reading.

"C'mon, Rex," he said, unlocking his apartment door.

Two hours later Mulder was folding his clothes, he had divided his laundry between two washers and dryers. "That wasn't too bad," he murmured with relief, none of his neighbors had come downstairs the whole time.

Rex followed him back upstairs to their floor. As they approached Mulder's apartment, the dog's ears bent back, and a low growl sounded deep in its throat. Mulder already had his hand on the doorknob and was opening it when he heard Rex's warning, but it was too late as a large hand snaked out and pulled him violently into the apartment. The laundry basket he had balanced on his hip as he was unlocking the door spilled over the entryway, preventing the large creature that grabbed him from closing the door.

A large hand closed over his mouth. "Ssh, Beautiful, wouldn't want to wake your neighbors," the large n'thral growled, his large erection pressed into the middle of Mulder's back.

Rex growled loudly then attacked the giant's leg. The n'thral snarled at the dog while scooping Mulder's struggling body into his arms. He carried the smaller man effortlessly into the bedroom as he kicked the dog off his leg. Rex hit the far wall with a pain filled whimper. The n'thral ducked his head under the low mirrored canopy, dropping Mulder on the waterbed. The bed made a swishing sound as he landed, and Mulder reached behind him for his gun finding his holster empty.

"Looking for this, gorgeous?" the n'thral purred, showing him the gun.

Rex regained his feet, snarling angrily at the creature that was threatening his human; he launched himself at the giant's throat. His teeth tearing through the skin, he heard the satisfying howl of pain from his prey.

The n'thral used his considerable strength to force the dog's mouth away from his throat. Blood was pouring from the injury as he angrily crushed the dog's body in his massive arms, listening to the satisfying sound of bones snapping as he squeezed his arms together. After the dog stopped moving, he threw its limp body away from him.

"NO!" The scream tore from Mulder's throat as he heard the sound of bones breaking. Then he saw the last glimmer of light in his life lying motionless on his bedroom floor. In a blind rage, he threw himself at the n'thral, kicking and clawing. The large creature effortlessly grabbed his arms holding him immobile. "Now, it is time for us to party, pretty one," he purred. His body jerked suddenly as a gunshot rang out from behind them, and the front of the n'thral's face exploded as the bullet exited his skull from above his right temple -- he toppled over dead.

Mulder was splattered with blood and brain matter, he stumbled away from the dead n'thral, meeting Agent Boutotte's stunned eyes briefly as the man lowered his gun. Mulder rushed over to Rex's side, he gently touched the side of the dog's head hearing a faint whimper. Rex turned his head enough to lick his human's hand one final time, before lying totally still. Mulder pulled his lifeless body into his arms and cradled him against his chest as anguished sobs of grief poured out of him.

"Fuck, Phil, how did that thing get into the building?" Pipino muttered.

"I don't know, did you call for backup?" Boutotte asked.

"Yeah, they should be here any second. Phil, let's get Mulder next door, I don't think it's a good idea that he's here when the other agents and police arrive." Pipino glanced sadly over to where Mulder sat on the floor holding his dead dog's body. The gore from the dead n'thral did nothing to mar his beauty.

"Mulder, we need to get you out of here, the police and the FBI are coming." It took Pipino several minutes to pry the younger man's fingers off the dog and pull him to his feet.

Mulder was in a daze as he was led next door; the older agent took him into the bathroom, and sat him down on the closed toilet seat. "Stay here, I'll be right back." Pipino ran into the hallway, and started scooping the clean laundry back into the basket; he carried it back into his apartment then started searching through it for something for Mulder to wear.

He carried a clean sweatshirt and sweatpants into the bathroom, hanging them on a hook behind the door. The older agent noticed that Mulder hadn't even blinked an eye since he left. He was staring blindly ahead of him at the wall. "Mulder, why don't you get out of those clothes and into the shower. I've brought you in some clean clothes."

Mulder didn't even seem to hear him. Pipino heard the pounding of feet in the hallway as men rushed into the apartment next door. "Don't move, I'm going next door to see what's going on." The older agent closed the bathroom door, then locked the apartment door on his way out.

A short time later, Walter Skinner exited the staircase on the fourth floor; he sprinted to Mulder's apartment, pushing past the agents and police already on the scene. He looked around frantically for Mulder, stopping stunned in the bedroom doorway. An eight-foot tall n'thral lay dead on the floor and across the room was the body of Mulder's dog. "God. Agent Pipino, where's SAC Mulder?" Skinner interrupted his agent who was talking to a police detective.

Pipino broke off his conversation with the detective and turned to face his agitated boss. "He's safe, I have him locked in the apartment next door," he said.

"Please, tell me that you didn't leave him alone?" Skinner growled.

Vinny Pipino turned a bright shade of red, stammering, "Sir, he's fine, I only left him five minutes ago to check on what was happening here."

"Give me the apartment key." Skinner held out his hand and Pipino dropped the key in it. The large man rushed next door; he could only imagine what shape Mulder would be in after being attacked by another n'thral and seeing his dog killed. Skinner felt sadness over seeing Rex's body, but he knew the dog died protecting Mulder.

Skinner looked around the two-bedroom apartment, stopping before the closed bathroom door; he slowly opened it, finding Mulder sitting listlessly on the toilet seat. He knelt down next to him, frowning at the gore that was clinging to his hair and T-shirt.

"Mulder, can you hear me?" he asked softly.

Getting no response, he grabbed the younger man's chin and turned his head to look at him. Mulder's eyes were void of recognition, so Skinner gently slapped his cheeks trying to get some response from him. "C'mon, Fox, I know you're in there," Skinner said.

"It's Mulder not Fox, only my lovers call me Fox," he mumbled, distantly. His eyes began to focus on the bald headed man kneeling before him. "Oh, God, that thing killed Rex . . . my fault, it's all my fault," he sobbed.

"Mulder, what happened?"

"I . . . with the n'thrals all gone from the building and the neighborhood, I thought it would be safe for me to go down to the laundry room. When I got back to my apartment that thing was inside waiting for me . . . Rex tried to defend me, but he didn't stand a chance against that giant. It's all my fault, I never should have left my apartment," he grieved.

"You didn't know, Mulder, you thought it was safe. C'mon let me help you get out of these clothes and into the shower, it will make you feel better." Skinner reached for the bottom of Mulder's T-shirt and helped him pull it over his head. He pulled the sneakers and socks off his agent's feet, then stood, and turned on the shower.

Mulder climbed shakily to his feet and started removing his jeans. When Skinner turned back to help him, Mulder pushed his hands away. "Sir, if you don't mind I would like some privacy."

"Of course, I'm sorry. I'll be in the next room if you need anything," Skinner murmured, leaving the bathroom, he paced around the living room until Mulder finally stepped out of the bathroom.

Mulder appeared to be totally under control as he met Skinner's eyes. "Sir, I won't be able to stay in my apartment until they remove the bodies, do you think it would be possible for you to speed them up?"

"Mulder, maybe it would be better if you came back to Viva Towers with me, you can stay in my guest room until we can find you an apartment in the building," Skinner suggested earnestly.

"No. This is where I live and I'm not moving, especially to a complex as large as Viva Towers! It's bad enough that I have all the agents at the Hoover Building following me around as if I was a bitch in heat, I don't want them anywhere near where I live! At least this building doesn't have nearly as many apartments," Mulder replied hotly.

"Mulder, they've been getting better, they're not following you around nearly as much anymore. You have to admit that your appearance has shocked everyone at the FBI, and it was only natural that the men would be curious at first. In time they won't even give you a second look," Skinner replied, not believing his own words, Mulder would always receive second and third looks.

"It doesn't matter, I'm not moving this is my home and I won't allow it to be taken away from me, too." Mulder did not want Walter Skinner's pity, he knew he'd never have the man's respect or friendship again -- that was, if he'd ever had it to begin with, he was no longer sure about that.

Skinner knew he'd never convince Mulder to move once the man had his mind made up to stay. "Okay, Agent Mulder, I'll see if I can speed up the forensic team."

"Sir, there's one other thing. Rex . . ." Mulder's voice broke and he struggled to maintain composure.

Skinner nodded, knowing what Mulder was going to ask. "Don't worry, Mulder, I'll take care of Rex. I'll make sure he has a proper burial."

"Thank you, sir."

"No problem, and I'll help you clean after the bodies are removed and the forensic team leaves."

"Sir, it's not necessary for you to stay . . . I'll be able to clean the room myself."

"Agent Mulder, you've just been through a traumatic experience. I'm staying to help you . . . whether you want me to or not!" he growled in his most authoritative voice.

Mulder's lip curled up in a weak smile. Skinner in surly boss mode always comforted him; the man was extremely handsome when he stood straight with his chest puffing out as he growled at him. He had recent fantasies about wrapping his arms around the larger man's slim waist and stopping that growl with a kiss. He wondered what Skinner would do if he did that. Probably knock him flat on his ass with an upper cut or put him in another headlock.

The soft smile on Mulder's face took Skinner's breath away and he felt his body responding to it. He turned and fled the apartment before Mulder saw the effect he was having on him. Mulder had enough problems without the knowledge that his boss had the *hots* for him.

***

Mulder spent the weekend moping around his apartment, he cried himself to sleep each evening missing Rex. He spent all of Sunday trying to get in contact with Dana Scully, he even tried to call her brother Bill, but he had no luck. Those bastards at Northridge still would not allow anyone besides family members to visit or contact the women. As the weekend ended, he was becoming more despondent and lonely, he still wasn't back on normal terms with Frohike. Their fight from this spring had damaged their friendship, although Frohike had made many overtures to get their friendship back on track. Mulder had kept the shorter man at arm's length afraid of being hurt again. With Rex dead, he now had no one in his life that cared for him.

Monday at work he found himself going through the routine of reviewing reports, his heart no longer in his job. On Tuesday, there wasn't anyone in his life to acknowledge his birthday. That day his despair and depression peaked as he started wondering why he was even bothering to go on.

Mulder entered his apartment that evening with Agents Jameson and Jackson at his side. The two agents did a quick inspection of the apartment, making sure that no one had broken in.

"Mulder, do you need anything? If not, we're heading next door," Jameson asked, standing in the doorway.

"No. Go ahead."

After they left, Mulder locked only the bottom lock; he saw no point in making it too difficult for them to get in to retrieve his body. He went into the bathroom and emptied his bladder. He hadn't eaten anything since Sunday; the idea of food had turned his stomach. He thought morbidly that at least he wouldn't shit all over himself after he blew his brains out.

Mulder removed his tie and suit coat, making himself relatively comfortable. He pulled his gun from his holster; walked over to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, reached under some papers, and pulled out a silencer, which he attached to the gun. He stopped at the television set and turned it on, it would drown out any noise that his suicide made.

He sat on his sofa and took a deep breath, tears were flowing freely now as he put the silencer under his left temple and angled it up. He squeezed the trigger and the bullet tore through his brain and blew a large hole in the back of his skull. His body slumped dead on the sofa as his hand fell into his lap; the gun was still firmly held in its grasp. The wall behind Mulder's sofa was splattered with blood and gore, and the bullet had lodged in the center of the mess.

***

At 1:00 a.m., Skinner woke up and looked at the clock, he couldn't sleep. Since early evening, he'd had a sickening feeling deep in his gut that something had happened to Mulder. He climbed out of bed and pulled on his clothes. Arming himself against the ghouls roaming the neighborhoods at night, he headed for the parking garage. As he drove through the exit, he waited until the garage door had closed safely behind him before continuing on his way.

He had the keys to both Mulder's building and apartment. The street was well lit in front of the building; he glanced around for any ghouls before climbing out of his car. He quickly made his way up the steps and inside the steel bars.

Skinner took the stairs up to Mulder's apartment; he quietly sneaked by the apartment next to Mulder's not wanting to disturb the two agents sleeping within, holding his breath as he unlocked Mulder's door. He stepped into the darkened room and closed the door quietly behind him. The only sources of light came from the television set and the fish tank. He saw Mulder sitting on his sofa and assumed he was sleeping until he got closer. The metallic stench of blood hit him immediately, and he reached for a light switch, flicking it on. He gasped, then fled the room for the bathroom, and retched up all the contents in his stomach. Skinner hadn't gotten sick at the sight of a dead body since Vietnam, but seeing the man that he loved with his brains spattered on the wall made him deathly ill.

He climbed back shakily to his feet and taking a deep breath to calm himself, he walked back into the living room. He couldn't help the sob that escaped his lips or the tears that flowed freely down his face at the sight of Mulder's beautiful dead face. It was white; resembling delicate porcelain, and the entrance wound appeared to be almost healed. Skinner frowned; wounds didn't heal on a dead man. He wiped tears from his eyes trying to clear his blurry vision to study the wound more closely -- it was healing. With a shaky hand, he touched Mulder's throat searching and searched for a pulse, finding none, his hand caressed the cold flesh. He studied the exit wound. By the amount of blood and gray matter on the wall, he thought there should have been more damage.

Skinner knew he should call and report Mulder's death, but something stopped him. Instead he sat on the coffee table in front of Mulder's body and watched him. He no longer wanted to leave this apartment without the man he loved, so he prayed for a miracle. As the hours passed, his grief subsided and total amazement overtook him. By 4:30 a.m., the wound below Mulder's left temple was totally healed and the damage to the back of his skull was almost closed. By 6:00 a.m., Mulder started breathing again, it was ragged at first, but it quickly became stronger.

Mulder slowly opened his eyes and was surprised to find Walter Skinner sitting quietly watching him. He then realized he was still alive. Did he miss? Had the gun misfired?

"Why, Mulder?" Skinner asked sadly.

Mulder stared at him in shock as dread crept into his belly, he realized that Skinner knew he had attempted to kill himself. He looked down at the gun still in his hand, letting it go he reached his hand up to his temple. He figured he must have knocked himself out.

Skinner watched the emotions flash across Mulder's face. The look of puzzlement as he touched his temple annoyed, then angered Skinner.

"You didn't miss if that's what you're thinking," he growled.

Mulder licked his lips and focused his eyes back on Skinner's angry face. "What happened?" he asked weakly.

"I arrived here at 1:30 this morning to find that you'd shot yourself through the head," he snapped, jerking his chin at the wall behind Mulder.

Mulder turned and gaped at the dried blood and gore on the wall and sofa behind him. His eyes locked on a bloody fragment of skull that had landed on the back of his sofa. "So, I guess I didn't miss," he murmured.

"No, you fucking didn't miss! Why Mulder?"

Mulder lowered his head so his boss wouldn't see the tears flowing from his eyes. "Yesterday was my birthday. I've always hated my birthday; it reminds me of how alone I am. I know it's a stupid reason to give up."

"Mulder, what do you mean you're alone? What about Joshua Campbell, I thought he was your lover?" Skinner asked softly.

Mulder looked at him with red rimmed eyes, clearly baffled. "Joshua Campbell was a man I used to play b-ball with, he moved out west to be with his brother after the virus killed his wife. We were never lovers."

"I'm sorry, I was told you were involved with him," Skinner said. He was angry with himself for allowing a stranger's lies to put a wall between him and Mulder. He needed to fix the damage that he had done.

"Mulder, you're not alone, I'm here for you, talk to me, please." Skinner rested his hands on Mulder's knees.

"No. You're not. I thought we had become friends, but I realized you only befriended me out of pity. That's why you could barely tolerate looking at me in August, you realized that I had become too needy." Mulder mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Mulder, it wasn't anything you did. It was me, I found myself enjoying your company too much. I'm your boss, and I was scared that I was getting too close to you. I realize now how stupid I was to think that. If you'll let me, I would like to try again, and it has nothing to do with pity." Skinner squeezed his knees affectionately; he couldn't tell Mulder the whole truth -- which was that he left him out of jealousy and a sense of betrayal. He still didn't know where Mulder stood sexually and he didn't want to scare him off while he was in such a fragile state.

"Is there going to be an again? After word reaches the bureau that I attempted suicide, I'll probably be locked away in some mental institution," Mulder sighed, looking shakily up at Skinner.

"No one is going to find out, Mulder, I'm the only one who knows. However, I want you to promise me that you'll never try this again, if you're feeling depressed I want you to come and talk to me."

"Okay, thanks." Mulder looked relieved, he glanced back at the wall behind him again. "Sir, can you tell me what happened? Why am I still alive?"

"Mulder, you were dead when I arrived. There was a hole in your temple and the back of your skull was gone. I sat here for the past five hours and watched your wounds heal, you only started breathing again right before you woke up."

"Oh, God, what does that make me?"

"I'd say that makes you an immortal, Mulder. I wonder if other injuries would heal as quickly?" Skinner looked at him speculatively.

"They do, I tried to cut myself a couple of weeks ago, and that wound healed in a few hours." Mulder cringed at the stormy look on Skinner's face. "I thought if I could make myself a little less attractive I'd be left alone." Mulder felt ill; he couldn't kill himself now even if he wanted to. The only control he had left in his life was the knowledge that he could end it, now he didn't even have that.

"I think we should have Doctor Harris run some tests on you. There must be a way to tell if you're really an immortal."

"Other than coming back from the dead after blowing my brains out?" Mulder asked sarcastically. Knowing that suicide was no longer an option for him, he needed to get control back over his life.

"You have a point." Skinner grinned suddenly. "At least I won't have to worry about you getting killed, and it should lower our division's insurance rates," he replied.

Mulder smiled saucily. "And, no more long hospital stays for this boy . . . I guess it does have some advantages."

"C'mon, I'll give you a hand cleaning up this mess before Agents Jameson and Jackson stop over to pick you up for work," Skinner said, patting Mulder on the leg as he stood and headed for the kitchen.

Mulder followed Skinner into the kitchen, the larger man reached under the sink pulling out a bucket and a box of Ajax cleaner. He filled the bucket with hot water as Mulder grabbed a roll of paper towels and a garbage bag. Going back into the living room, he shuddered in disgust as he started wiping the large chunks of gore from the wall and sofa. He found one piece of scalp with his hair still attached, throwing it in the bag he paused and felt the back of his head. He couldn't locate a bald spot, his hair was thick and long.

Skinner started scrubbing the blood off the wall and sofa. "Don't throw that away, Mulder, I want Doctor Harris to have those samples." He pulled out his pocket knife and dug the bullet out of the wall.

"Do we have to tell him about this?"

"Yes. He's your doctor and I think it's important that he knows everything that affects your health or is part of this mutation you have, coming back from the dead definitely qualifies," Skinner replied, placing the bullet in his pocket.

It was 7:30 by the time Skinner finished cleaning the blood from the wall and he was just dumping the last bucket of pink tinged water down the drain when there was a knock on the door. "Hey, Mulder, are you ready?" Agent Jameson shouted through the closed door.

Mulder had left Skinner to finish cleaning while he showered and changed for work. He walked into the kitchen and stared at Skinner in dismay. "Sir, how will we explain your presence here?" he whispered.

"We don't have to, you go ahead with them, and I'll meet you back at work." As Mulder turned to leave, Skinner's low voice stopped him. "And, Mulder, I want to see you in my office at ten o'clock. I'm going to schedule an appointment with Doctor Harris for you today."

***

Doctor Harris came into the room with Doctor Wells from the CDC. "He's definitely an immortal, Walter. We conducted several tests on him while he was under anesthesia, each time his body healed perfectly. We're waiting for the results of the final test," Harris stated.

"Sam, when can I take him home?" Skinner asked, looking at his watch. It was past 9:00 p.m.; they'd been there since 11:00 a.m.

"Ah, as soon as the tip of his finger grows back," Harris stated cautiously, glancing back accusingly at Doctor Wells who stood behind him well out of A.D. Skinner's reach.

"WHAT!" Skinner roared. "You cut off his finger! What the *fuck* made you do that? You were only suppose to inflict a few small cuts on him and monitor how long they took to heal, how could you have done something like that to him?"

"Walter, calm down, it was only the tip and it has already started to grow back. Doctor Wells needed to know if his body could also regenerate missing body parts. After all, his other injuries healed remarkably fast and he did grow back that section of his skull he lost," Harris reasoned weakly.

"Sam, if either of you do anything like this to him again I'll do the identical thing to your body," he growled. Skinner wasn't comfortable with including Doctor Wells in on Mulder's examination, but since Mulder mutated, two other men in the U.S. had mutated in the same way, and he had been put in charge of their cases. Anything Wells could learn from Mulder would help the other two men and vise versa.

"I'm sorry, Walter, we won't intentionally injure him again," Harris mumbled, realizing that they had gone too far.

***

Hoover Building
Wednesday, November 18
1:30 p.m.

Mulder wrapped his coat around him as he sneaked out of the Hoover Building. He needed some time alone and he wanted to go to his favorite place to think. It was the end of November and the weather was cold outside. He didn't think he'd run into any other pedestrians as he made his way toward the reflection pool. In the distance, he noticed humvees patrolling the streets. Thinking nothing of them, he continued on his way, until he reached his park bench.

He sat on the bench staring out over the autumn landscape as leaves blew past him; he huddled deeper into his long, black, woolen overcoat. Since his birthday, his life had gotten a little better. He finally made peace with Frohike, Langly, and Byers. His friends had been shocked by his appearance, but they agreed to his demands that they suppress their sense of smell around him. He still wasn't able to get in touch with Scully, which sadden him the most.

Walter Skinner stopped by his apartment regularly to check on him and to keep him company. Mulder smiled. Skinner would hit the roof if he found out that he was outside alone without his security detail. Mulder decided it was worth the risk for just a few peaceful minutes to be outside alone to meditate. The other agents at the bureau were starting to get used to him. He still couldn't go to the cafeteria because of his pheromones, but he thought that if Doctor Harris did hit on a drug that would suppress them, then he could freely go to the cafeteria without worry.

Mulder missed Rex, sometimes at night he thought he could still hear his dog's toenails tapping against the hardwood floor as he loped around the apartment. Mulder knew he'd never get over losing Rex, that he'd sacrificed his life protecting him. It was the first time in his life that Mulder had ever been loved unconditionally. He still felt totally isolated; there was no one in his life that loved him and Mulder doubted that anyone would ever love him again.

Sighing, he glanced off in the distance and noticed the humvees heading down the road in front of where he sat.

***

The End

Book 1 - A New Beginning

Email: Purplefox7@aol.com