Into the Woods
Rating: PG-13
Keywords: Skinner/Scully romance
Spoilers: Field Trip, Never Again, Redux I and II, Fight the Future
Summary: Scully and Skinner, an orienteering/survival seminar, and lots of repressed feelings.
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine. Not making any money from it, just exploring what the show won't.
Acknowledgements: My lovely beta-gang: Sally Bradstreet (for the inspiration), Louise Kingwood and Bonnie Drew; the friendly bunch on the Scuttlebutts list, and of course the Sisters in Smut, without whom we wouldn't be so organized!
And special thanks, as always, to Lyrica, whose "Sharp Focus" kicked my Sk/Sc obsession into overdrive!
Enjoy, folks.....read and review! It's a work in progress, mind you, so more chapters will be forthcoming :)
*****
*Compass, check. Canteen, check. Extra tent stakes, check. Topographical map.....map, map, map......*
"Scully, do you..." Assistant Director Skinner paused in his query as the object of his attention was currently bent over, retying her boot lacing. He watched her deft fingers re-tie the knot, fingers that had tended to him more than once, and suppressed a smile at their dexterity. At the whole ensemble actually.
Gone were the conservative suits and the too-high heels that she normally wore. In their place was a pair of faded jeans, a green flannel shirt that looked soft as a kitten, light jacket and those hiking boots. With her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, wisps of it framing her face, she looked as if she'd never put on her usual suit, and when she turned to face him, he suddenly couldn't picture her in anything else.
"Sir?" The mountain breeze stirred her hair, and she brushed it out of her face, breaking him from his reverie.
"Do you have the map?" He nearly bit his tongue in half to stay the other questions on his mind.
"Right there, with my pack." She indicated the hiking backpack that leaned against a nearby log, where the map flapped at him from its place between her sleeping bag and the pack itself. He nodded, then turned his attention to the "Listen up!" that hailed them from the clearing.
Agent Phelps stood on a tree stump, his voice raised to reach the edge of the group that gathered around him. Skinner felt a pang of sympathy as he looked over the assembled agents, most of them seasoned agents, some green....and very few with a knowledge of wilderness survival or orienteering. All of them partners, save for him, who volunteered for this workshop to get away from driving a desk, and Scully, a result of her partner's sudden hemorrhoidal condition.
*Never thought I'd thank Mulder's ass for _anything_....*
"Okay, people, you have seventy-two hours to reach the rendezvous point, making sure to reach each checkpoint listed on your maps! It gets cold up here at night, even in July, so I hope you all read your essentials list! If one of you gets hurt, put up your flare and someone will find you! Good luck, people, and see you at the rendezvous!"
Skinner slid his arms into the straps of the bulky hiker's backpack, and saw Scully do the same. Their eyes met, and he saw a combination of determination and excitement. He smiled at the expression, knowing that he must be showing the same. "Ready?"
She smiled back. "As I'll ever be."
He pulled the map from her pack and found the first checkpoint. By unspoken assent, he took the first bearing, and they set off silently into the woods.
******
Scully sat down on a nearby rock with a sigh, unclipping the canteen from her pack. The tepid water did little to ease her thirst, but she drank while she could. She knew they wouldn't rest long before they set off for the next checkpoint; they both wanted to gain a few more miles before the sun went down.
The going had been rough today, more than she was used to after the few weeks spent behind a desk and interviewing fertilizer buyers. *I'm surprised Mulder didn't come on this workshop just to get out of the "piles of doo?doo,"* she mused as she inhaled a deep breath of mountain air. The orienteering refresher had been a welcome chance to escape the mound of grunt work that had been assigned, despite the grueling workout she was getting. Still, she wondered as she splashed some of the water on her hands, maybe some of her breathlessness had been because of her hiking companion than the actual trek.
Looking at him now, dark eyes sharp as he scanned the terrain, hands steady as he looked at the compass, then the map, his red and black flannel shirt and faded blue jeans doing little to hide the fact that this desk jockey still kept in shape.....she licked her lips and looked away, lest she be caught eyeing up her boss as if he were a piece of rare prime rib.
*Former boss, Dana, former boss...and doesn't _that_ make things more interesting?*
She had never seen him in anything other than his usual 'uniform' of starched white shirts with dark suits or a hospital gown with an IV in his arm, and this new image of him was...most interesting.
She tilted her head to one side, then the other, hearing and feeling the satisfying 'pop' as her neck relaxed, and she reached up to massage the area just under her ears. She looked forward to shedding the pack on her back this evening, and for a moment the image lingered in her mind; those broad, strong fingers so gentle on her neck, soothing away the day's hike with small, circular movements....
"Scully."
Her head turned reflexively at the summons. He still stood on the small rise, and he beckoned to her with the binoculars he held. "Come take a look."
She stepped up next to him and took the proffered binoculars. "Look," he said, pointing over her shoulder off to the east. Standing this close, she could just catch the scent of his soap, could just feel the heat of his arm against her cheek. Her body responded to the scent, the heat, and she blinked to clear her mind as she pressed the binoculars to her eyes. *Not now....*
She peered through the binoculars, following the direction that he pointed. "What am I looking for?"
His voice was soft against her ear. "You'll see it...right by that stand of trees."
She looked again, and caught her breath as she saw it; the black body, and the majestic white head and tail of a bald eagle, perched in the high branches of a tree, a large fish clutched in its talons. As she watched, it began tearing at the fish with quick, almost dainty tugs of its beak. She continued to watch, transfixed; all those summers camping with her family, and the closest thing she came to wildlife were the raccoons that raided their trash every year.
*Probably because you had two noisy brothers who scared away all but the boldest animals in the forest* She thought with a soft smile. How long had it been since she'd been camping, *really* camping, not fighting for her life as the quarry of the Moth Men? She couldn't remember, but as she watched the beautiful bird, the memories sifted back into her mind. Marshmallows and singing and happy times....
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Even as the whisper breezed across her cheek, the eagle opened its beak and called, the piercing cry echoing to them seconds later.
"Beautiful..." she breathed, the sound of her own voice bringing her out of her thoughts. She blinked, lowering the binoculars. How long had she stood here? She looked to Skinner, already opening her mouth to apologize for staying so long...and stopped when she saw him, really *saw* him. His dark-eyed gaze was more intense than she'd ever seen, but somehow not threatening, not the intimidating, implacable glare that sent the faint of heart scurrying from his office.
And he was watching *her*.
The scream of a blue jay perched overhead jolted them both out of the moment with a start. Skinner looked out at the horizon, she at her boots.
"We should get going, find a place to camp for the night." The gruff, all-business Boss was back. She opened her mouth to agree, then had a sudden thought.
"Sir, if the eagle had a fish, there must be a lake or pond somewhere near those trees. If it's close enough, do you want to try and camp there?" He looked down at the map, and she added, "We could wash up, maybe refill the canteens..." She winced inwardly at the last. *Terrific, I sound like a damned tenderfoot!*
He looked at the compass, then back over the rise. "We can make it if we hustle...and I know how you feel. I'm getting a bit tired of warm canteen water myself." She caught his subtle grimace with relieved smile. "You want to take the lead for a while, Scully?" A wry grin flashed over his features; it flattered him. "The view will undoubtedly be better."
*Oh, I wouldn't go _that_ far!* She squelched that little thought as she matched his grin with her own, taking the map from his hand. With a deep breath in her lungs and the next bearing in her mind, she set off to the east, already feeling the cool of the anticipated water soothing her dusty throat.
*****
Skinner ducked under another tree limb as they began their descent into the little valley, wondering if letting her lead had been a good idea logistically. She was doing an excellent job, keeping a good pace and reaching another of their checkpoints ahead of schedule. Still, he thought, he was glad that it was still light enough to see, or he would have been out cold about two miles back. He squinted into the light of the setting sun, trying to gauge how much time he had before his cranium was in serious danger.
He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, feeling the mountain air eat away at the remnants of the city tension. How long had it been since he'd just gotten away from the work-monkey on his back? The fact that he couldn't remember how long it had been told him volumes, and he took another deep breath, savoring the crisp bite of the air, mingled with the scent of earth and crushed leaves.
*Leaves!* He ducked another branch, feeling the cool of the green leaves as they brushed his scalp. He smirked to himself; he'd have to watch a little closer if he wanted to make it to the lake unscathed.
*Admit it, you're just mad because you have to watch out for low branches instead of watching her.*
He frowned and told that thought where exactly it could go and concentrated on the hike. *One foot in front of the other, Walter....never mind the fact that you nearly lost it when you showed her the eagle.* How had he known that she would appreciate the sight of the raptor? Something in him just knew, and had warmed at the soft gasp she'd made when she spotted it. He could still smell the fresh, clean scent of her soap, could see the wonder in her eyes, and then she'd looked at him... He yanked his mind away from *that* path and back to the terrain ahead--
--and shouted in surprise as his head collided with unyielding wood. He stepped back, pressing his hand to his forehead, cursing his wandering mind and as Scully turned around. He knew that his blunder would alert her to her own regarding their height differences, and he sighed as she approached.
Her gaze was anxious as she reached up. "Are you all right? Let me see... "
Her hands touched his shoulders to bring him closer, and he backed out of her grasp. "I'm fine, Scully...it's just a bump." He blinked, feeling the tightness of the skin that told him he'd have a hell of a goose-egg by nightfall. Ow. He probed at the spot again and grimaced, both at the pain, but also at the guilty look that appeared on Scully's face.
"Sir, I'm sorry...I--"
He held up his hand to stay her apology. "It's all right...just got distracted for a second there." He felt suddenly self?conscious, as if she knew exactly what had distracted him.
"I still should have been paying more attention. He could hear the anger in her voice at what she thought was her mistake.
"I'm the one that hurt myself, Scully." *You could never hurt me.* "You're doing fine. *I* should have been paying more attention."
She still looked uncertain. "Maybe you should take the lead again?" He hated that look; he wanted to see her smile again. But how....inspiration struck.
He reached behind him, into the waistband of his jeans, and pulled out a battered navy blue USMC baseball cap that he'd brought to protect him from sunburn. He slipped it on carefully, mindful of his head, and tugged on the brim. "There...instant branch detector." He smiled at her. "Now I can think of all the paperwork I've left behind without getting a smack on the head from Mother Nature."
She returned the smile; his heart skipped a beat. "I'll still keep an eye out for low bridges." She arched her eyebrow at him, as if daring him to challenge her consideration.
He knew better than to contradict *that* look, and instead gestured to the waiting woods. "Carry on." He watched as she set off again, this time glancing up every now and then, keeping an eye out, as she said. He smiled despite the low throb that was beginning on his head and followed, confident now that he was safe, from low branches at least, if not from his wandering mind.
*****
The lake sparkled in the light of the setting sun, so bright that Scully had to shield her eyes to look across the water. She let her backpack slide off her shoulders with a sigh of relief, and she glanced around for a suitable campsite. *Preferably close to the water,* she thought; she itched to at least splash her hands and face, but they wouldn't have light for long, and she didn't want to have to struggle with tent stakes in the dark.
She spotted the little clearing just as Skinner dropped his pack on the grass next to it. She watched him for a moment, and he pressed his hands to the small of his back, bending back a bit to stretch tired muscles. She smiled in sympathy; those last two miles were hard going, and she was sure his headache wasn't helping matters much. Her fingers twitched, and for a moment she thought about going to him, rubbing her thumbs against his back, listening to him sigh....she shoved that to the back of her mind, giving herself a mental poke. *What IS it with you today?*
Instead, she called to him, "You want to start a fire while I pitch the tent?"
He straightened as if he'd been goosed, and looked over at her. "Sounds good." He went to his pack and grabbed a flashlight. "There's an extra set of stakes in my pack if you need them."
She nodded. "Once we get settled, I have a cold pack in my first aid kit. Should help that head a bit."
He gave a little smile. "We'll see how I hold up." With a nod, he set off into the woods for firewood.
For the next ten minutes she struggled with the unruly billow of nylon that had until recently lain docile in its compact bundle. At least she'd won the first battle; the tent was lying floor-down and roof-up instead of the other way around. The poles were a little better behaved, assembling with little difficulty and she slipped them into place with minimal effort. She looked around for the stakes, and frowned when she saw that they were neither on the ground nor in the bag of "tent". She was sure she'd packed them, and when a frantic search through her pack yielded nothing, she glanced over to his, lying mutely against a rock. With a mental shrug, she went to it, unzipping the bag.
She felt odd rummaging through his things, but there was a curious bit of her that giggled at the fun of it. She was struck with a memory of flinging Bill Junior's underwear into the highest branches she could find, and stifled a laugh as the heat rose in her cheeks. *Okay, maybe more than a bit,* she thought as she opened the flap and looked inside.
Everything was neatly ordered; jacket on top, shirts in the middle, one pair of pants, shaving kit in a plastic bag.... She passed over the briefs and pushed aside the shaving kit, looking for the stakes, and stopped, pulling something out and looking at it with puzzled wonderment.
He'd packed marshmallows.
She squeezed the bag softly and thought back to the day's hike. Yes, Walter Skinner had been her partner on this field trip. The same one that had taken her and Mulder to task for any number of things. The same one who had stood like a rock between the X-Files and the ones who shut them down for good. Her boss,
*Former boss.*
the Marine, marshmallows....she shook her head, trying to put that third bit with the others. She smiled, unable to picture it, and picked up the bundle of tent stakes from beneath her discovery. She replaced the bag of marshmallows carefully and slipped the items atop them, as if she'd never found it.
As she turned towards the tent, she shook her head with a chuckle. There was something about the woods, being away from the soul-draining demand of work, that brought out the child in her. It was almost as if, since the pressures of everyday life were pushed away by a mountain breeze, she had let the breeze carry away her worries, her professional demeanor, and let herself enjoy this trip. Perhaps he felt the same, she didn't know, but that bag in his pack certainly suggested it.
She wondered if that same wind was kicking *his* libido into overdrive the way it was her, then shook her head. Maybe it was a hormone thing, some primitive instinct to nest, to seek a mate, brought about by the wilderness setting. She put it out of her mind as she went back to the task at hand.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, she tugged and smoothed the tent into submission, and as she tied off the nylon wind shield, she heard rustling in the direction that Skinner had gone to get firewood. She delved into her pack once more, grabbing the gel-pak from her first aid kit and tossing it into the center of the three-compartment tent for when he was done with the fire. She zipped up the tent and dusted her hands off, then turned to the lake. *Now* she was going to wash her hands and face.
*****
Skinner emerged from the trees, hefting the bundle of wood over one aching shoulder (the shoulder *away* from the bump on his head), to see Scully emerge from the tent and head towards the water. He saw that considerably more hair had come loose from her ponytail, and chuckled as the image of her wrestling with the tent came to mind. He was glad for the grunt work of gathering firewood; he didn't think he could handle a tent like that. Small canvas two-man tents were one thing; three-compartment nylon monstrosities were quite another.
He dropped the bundle of wood next to the tent, and she turned at the sound. For a moment he just looked at her, the breeze blowing her hair into her face, the scattering of freckles across her nose that he'd never noticed at the office, the lush pout of her lips...shit, he was staring! He shook his head to clear it, then met her quizzical gaze with a smile. "Going to wash up?" *Way to improvise, Marine. You going to offer to carry her books next?*
She nodded. "Yeah...You want me to refill the canteens too?" She pointed to the canteen dangling from his belt, and he gratefully seized on the opportunity. He unclipped it and tossed it to her, watching her catch it with a quick grab. "I'll help you with the fire pit as soon as I'm done."
"Take your time, Scully...you got the tent up, I'll take care of the fire."
She shrugged a silent sounds-good-to-me, then turned and walked towards the water once more.
Walter Skinner prided himself on his ability to keep his cool in any situation, to take things in stride no matter how unexpected, or at least look as if he was expecting it. He didn't expect what happened next, but later would recall how it all happened as if in slow motion.
He saw Scully walk towards the water....he saw the section of root ahead of her, sticking out of the sand. He saw her foot come down too close to it, and on the next step, her walk arrested abruptly. The canteens went flying into the shallows, and her whoop of surprise startled a flock of ducks into flight as she fell, her head and shoulders landing in the water with a *splash!*.
He ran to her, knowing that a sprained ankle would be a hell of a lot worse than a bump on the head. "Are you all right?" His stomach twisted at the thought of her being hurt...
She pushed herself out of the water and turned to him. The wisps of hair were plastered to her face, the kitten-soft shirt was soaked and clingy, and as she wiped the water out of her eyes she left a gritty trail of sand across her face. In short, the woman he'd been watching all day now bore more of a resemblance to a bedraggled puppy than the woman of his....the laughter bubbled up and was out before he could stop it.
She looked up at him, and the incredulous look in her eyes only made it harder to choke the laughter back. He bit the insides of his cheeks hard, and he calmed enough to speak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry....are you all right?" He coughed to disguise the chuckle in his voice, trying desperately to regain his composure.
She looked down at herself, and he saw her shoulders begin to shake. His mirth deflated instantly. Oh god, he'd made her cry. Her own boss laughing at her, it must have hit her like a punch in the stomach. "Scully, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to--"
--but when she looked back up, her eyes were smiling, her face flushed with embarrassment, not tears. "I'm okay....just took a mean bump in the pride." She looked to the lake, where their canteens were floating, and chuckled ruefully. "And, as long as I'm used to the water, I'll go fish those out." She blew ineffectually at a strand of hair and held out her hand. "Help me up?"
He reached down and grasped her hand, grateful for the chance to redeem himself. He couldn't believe he'd been so crass as to laugh at her, and as soon as she got the canteens he'd make it up to her....
Her hand tightened in his, her foot swept under his ankle, and she yanked, hard. With a shout, he toppled and fell, and spluttered up out of the water to the sound of her laughter. He shook the water out of his face, speechless with the shock of it. She'd....she'd....this is *Scully*? No, Scully was the demure, businesslike angel to Mulder's demons, not this creature with dancing blue eyes and musical laughter and a smile that stopped his heart. He looked at her for a moment, wondering if this was all some weird hallucination, until she spoke.
"Misery loves company, sir. Couldn't let you have all the fun." She grinned impudently at him, then winked. *Winked!* "Gotcha."
Through her mirth, he could see the nervousness behind her eyes; she was taking a big chance, kidding this way with him, and she knew it. And he hated it. That she would be this anxious for his approval made him feel like the world's worst boss, and an even bigger heel for laughing at her. Still....she *had* pulled him into the water. His grin had a wry twist to it as he licked his finger and drew a tick mark in the air, punctuating it with a *kssss*. "Touche, Agent Scully." He winked back at her and levered himself up out of the water.
He looked to the sparkling lake, where their canteens were already floating beyond wading distance. "I'll get the canteens, you start the fire. We're both gonna need a warm up when the sun goes all the way down."
She snapped a two-fingered salute. "Aye aye." He could hear the smile in her voice, and as he waded into the cold water, it warmed him to his toes.
*****
Scully huddled closer to the fire as her teeth threatened to chatter. Her hair still wasn't fully dry, and each breeze brought with it a new chill that seemed to go straight to her bones, despite the heavy fisherman's sweater and sweatpants. She glanced at Skinner, seated on the other side of the blaze, for a moment envying his lack of hair.
She smiled at his bowed head, watching him dig the dirt out of his boot soles, a little frown of concentration creasing his brow. She couldn't put her finger on it, but he looked....different to her, and it wasn't until he looked up and caught her watching did she realize what it was.
He looked relaxed. That was it. Here, out in the wilderness, he was free of the daily pressures that came with his job. No Consortium breathing down his neck, no rogue agents with outrageous expense reports....no walls. Nothing between him and his enjoyment of the wilderness. That constant *awareness* that came with being a law enforcement professional was still there, but it wasn't at the front of his mind. And it showed; the hard line of his jaw was softened to the simple determination of cleaning his boots. The cold glare of his eyes was warmed by the fire, even his imposing build was subdued by the soft cotton of the sweatshirt.
Though not everything was as subdued, she'd noticed; those faded jeans certainly brought things into sharper focus, particularly when he bent to put another log on the fire. She'd had to duck into the tent until the heat left her face, silently berating herself for the lapse of sanity. *I will _not_ watch my boss's ass, I will _not_...*
She blinked as his gaze turned inquisitive...shit, she was staring! She lowered her eyes and fumbled for something, anything to say. "Sorry....I was just thinking of the other times I'd been camping." *Oh, good one, Doc. That's what he wants to hear....*
"Recently, or when you were younger?" He set the boots aside and dusted his hands off on his knees. She blinked in surprise at the interest in his gaze, and felt a little thrill run through her.
"When I was younger....I used to go camping with my family a lot." She couldn't stop the smile at the memories. "I don't know how my parents did it." She poked at the fire with a stick she'd grabbed from the pile of kindling. "We were quite a handful."
He chuckled; she loved the way it sounded. "I can imagine." Was it the light, or did she see him smile? "Who was worse, the girls or the boys?"
She felt her grin widen at the question; she remembered so clearly, as if it were yesterday. "Well, it was pretty much a give and take.....Bill and Charlie gave, Missy and I took." A log popped on the fire. "Bill put a frog in my sleeping bag, I threw his underwear in a tree. The boys put worms in our shoes, we took their clothes when they were in the shower."
The chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh, and she laughed with him. She loved the sound; she wanted to hear it more often, to know that he still had a smile left in him after all they'd been through over the past years. Hell, to know that *she* still had one made her feel better, and she was secretly glad that Skinner had been the one to see it. As they settled into a comfortable silence, she remembered the one time she had seen him smile.
Her family had been hovering, the priest standing off to one side when he'd edged into her hospital room. She remembered the awkwardness that radiated from him, as if he wasn't sure he should be there, after all the suspicion and the anger and the pain. Then she'd met his uncertain gaze, trying to apologize and welcome him and share her new-found health all at once. The corners of his mouth had twitched up and his brown eyes softened....
Skinner reached back into his pack, his voice muffled as he rummaged through it. "Well, if you promise not to throw my underwear in a tree, I suppose you can have some of these."
The crinkle of a plastic bag shook her from her reverie, and she smiled as he brought out the marshmallows. "Only if you promise not to put a frog in my sleeping bag."
"Deal." He popped open the bag and picked up two long sticks that she had seen him grab from the firewood. He pushed a marshmallow onto a stick and handed it to her; she accepted it with a smile and a blush, feeling more than a bit awkward. Here she was, Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI, toasting marshmallows with her boss on a training seminar. It all seemed so surreal; she wondered if she should pinch herself.
She heard the soft 'foomf' of a marshmallow in flames, and gave an, "Ack!" of alarm as she saw Skinner blowing out his now?charred snack. He looked over at her cry as he popped the marshmallow into his mouth. "Hm?"
"You eat them like *that*?" She couldn't help but wrinkle her nose, which only seemed to amuse him.
He swallowed the mouthful and smiled. "Is there any other way?"
"There most certainly is!" She held her marshmallow just above the fire. "Watch and learn..sir."
Holding the marshmallow in the heat of the flames, she turned it carefully, watching the skin of it turn a golden brown while Skinner looked on. She waited a bit longer, then pulled her stick back with a grin. "See? Perfect." She held her stick out to him. "Try it."
He looked at it with mock disdain. "It's not even done."
"It tastes better than the carbon nuggets you've been eating." She smiled. "Come on.'
He reached out and tugged, frowning a bit as just the skin came off. After examining it for a moment, he put it in his mouth. She watched with an expectant smile as his expression changed from skeptical to surprised to a nod of enjoyment. "See?"
"Not bad....not bad." He grinned. "But it takes too long." He grabbed another marshmallow and put it on the end of his stick.
She felt her eyebrow arch. "Patience is a virtue, sir," she chided, then winced as his marshmallow went up in flames. His grin widened at her expression as he blew it out.
"No better time like the present, Scully." This time he ate the marshmallow right off the stick instead of using his fingers.
Her retort died in her throat at the sight of his mouth closing around the marshmallow, his teeth tugging it gently off the stick. The heat she felt earlier rushed back to her face as she watched his tongue poke out and sweep the bits of fluff from his lips. The image that thrust into her mind was frighteningly vivid.
*She sees herself stand and walk around the fire, his expression gently inquisitive as she stands over him. "Let me..." Her knees bend as she leans down, he opens his mouth as her lips come closer. A little sound comes from within him as she takes his lip between hers, her tongue licking away the sticky sweet fluff....*
"Scully?"
She jerked back to herself, half-expecting to see that she'd acted on that insane impulse. How long had she been staring *this* time? "Yeah?"
He held up the bag. "Want another?" His smile was gently inquisitive, and she nearly lost herself again at the familiar expression. *Oh yes, I'd love another sir...could you do that thing with your tongue again?*
She had to get away from this. She stood up, dusting off her pants. "Um, no....actually I have to use the, ah...the little girl's tree." She had made it to the edge of the trees before he could say anything more.
She regretted it as soon as she was away from the fire. The breeze from the lake cut through her as she huddled against a tree. She was so cold....and, ironically enough, she *did* have to use the bathroom. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She would take care of business and head right to bed, where just a thin sheet of nylon separated her from her sleeping--
*I know, former boss*
She tugged at the elastic waistband of the sweatpants, praying that she wasn't crouching in poison ivy.
**********
Skinner stared at the ceiling of the tent, his hands laced behind his head as he listened to the night sounds around him. As he stared at the unchanging nylon, he tried to go through in his mind what exactly had gone wrong tonight.
He'd been having a perfectly lovely evening with Scully, a night in the wilderness with no pressures, no boundaries, nobody to approve or disapprove. He'd felt relaxed enough to kid with her, especially after that little stunt at the lake, and in return she'd opened up a bit to him. He stifled a chuckle as he pictured her as a little girl, flinging her brother's underwear into a tree, and locked that image up to remember later. Next to her smile and her laugh, both of them as rare and precious to him as diamonds. There was so much about her that he didn't know, things he wanted to know, to share....he headed that train of thought off at the pass.
They'd toasted marshmallows together, something he never dreamed--
--Well okay, maybe he'd dreamed it, but he certainly hadn't predicted it. He remembered packing the marshmallows as an afterthought, a snack and a hope. And it had been delicious, both the snack and the warmth he felt when she shared it with him. They'd laughed, they'd joked, then....
Then he'd looked up from his marshmallow and saw her watching him, a new light in her eyes, a hunger that had nothing to do with food. A hunger that he *never* expected to see directed his way....and it shocked the hell out of him.
He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes with a silent groan, remembering how his body had responded to that look in her eyes, the way her tongue had run over her lips just for a second. Of course he'd responded that way...what red-blooded man *wouldn't* suddenly find his jeans too tight when someone like her looked at him that way? She couldn't have known what that look had done to him, she couldn't have meant it.
But if she did....
No. He was her boss.
*Former boss, Walt. Former boss.*
She was his subordinate, he dared his id to contradict. He didn't dare consider it, not even for a moment. It must be the air, the isolation that was making him act this way, some primal urge to act like a stag in rut. He'd never been this out-of-control at the office, save for once...
He'd walked into the meeting late to see her standing, staring defiantly at the men who conspired to shut them down, to kill her partner, to kill her slowly. He'd seen the look in her eyes when he came in, heard her strong, clear voice saying that she held the proof in her hands that could blow it wide open.
Then he'd seen it, the splash of red on her nose, her lips....her eyes rolling back in her head, and he'd rushed forward and caught her as she fell, his heart already aching for her as he called for someone to get a doctor. He'd tried so hard not to stroke her face as she looked up at him...
A sharp choking sound interrupted his thoughts, and he sat up abruptly, his heart pounding as he called softly, "Scully?"
There was no response, but her coughing grew worse, and he heard the nylon of the sleeping bag writhing against the tent floor.
He was out of his sleeping bag and had unzipped both partitions before he took his next breath, grabbing the battery-powered lantern from the center compartment. "Scully?" He thumbed the button on as he crouched beside her.
The coughing had stopped, but she was shaking, her whole body convulsing, curled in on itself as her teeth chattered. The light of the lantern made a fun-house of shadows in the tent as he unzipped the sleeping bag.
Her eyes were wide and unseeing as she shivered, and he blanched as he recognized that glassy gaze from another time, another life. In a military hospital, watching a soldier crouched behind a bed, stammering in broken Vietnamese to please let him out. His eyes had had that same unseeing look that stared back at him now, and for just a moment he wanted to kill whatever had done this to her.
He touched her face; her skin was like ice. "Scully?"
"C-cold." Her voice sounded foreign, flat, but the plea was unmistakable. He unzipped the sleeping bag further and lay down beside her, pulling her body against him as he grasped her hands.
She was so cold, so small against him, and as he felt her damp hair under his chin he wondered what her eyes were seeing. "Easy Scully, you're okay..." He whispered against her hair as he rubbed her hands between his. He pulled the sleeping bag around both of them and curled his body around her. "You're all right, it's okay." He hugged her to him, desperately trying to will the heat from his body to hers.
Slowly, so slowly, her shaking lessened as he rocked her. The chattering teeth stilled as he rubbed her hands in his, and soon the only sound in the tent was their breathing as her eyes fluttered closed. He held her to him a moment longer, feeling his heartbeat slow in his chest as she warmed against him. Her lips moved as she drifted into true sleep, and as he leaned closer to catch it, her breath puffed against his cheek.
"...had you big time..."
He frowned, puzzled at the words, but as her breathing evened out and she snuggled against him he suddenly had a lot more to think about. He looked down at her, wanting so badly to fall asleep like this, to wake up holding her. The temptation was so strong.....no. He couldn't. He shouldn't. But he wanted to...
He eased his body away from her, zipping her sleeping bag up slowly so as not to wake her. He rose to a crouch, looking down at her now-peaceful form, and as he watched her she let out a soft snore. He smiled as he backed out of her compartment, zipping the door closed and thumbing the lantern off. He'd done the right thing.
So why, as he slid into his own sleeping bag, did he feel he made the biggest mistake of his life?
**********
She was cold. So cold. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe as she heard breaking glass a long way away.
Then she choked as *something* was pulled from her throat, her lungs.
*breathe!*
She coughed convulsively, expelling a thick ichor from her lungs. Hands supporting her as she fell forward. She heard herself say the only word she knew. "Cold..."
She opened her eyes to see Mulder...
But it was Skinner, holding her to him, rubbing her hands in his. "Easy Scully, you're okay..."
She was struggling to breathe and she was so cold, and Mulder--
--but it was Skinner, his body warming hers, his mouth breathing life into her. "You're all right, it's okay."
Her lips moved, and Mulder/Skinner leaned down to hear her. "..had you big time...."
And she woke up.
Birds trilled above her, she heard the soft lap, lap, lap of the nearby lake, felt the fuzzy liner of the sleeping bag against her cheek. She opened her eyes slowly, saw the blue walls and floor of the tent, remembered where she was. The woods. Training seminar. Marshmallows....Skinner.
She rubbed her tired eyes with a yawn, trying to recall the fleeting remnants of the dream, but they refused to return. She remembered the emotions; fear, panic...then comfort, warmth...and Skinner. *Odd* she thought, then, when further contemplation only brought to mind the need to use the bathroom, she took a deep breath and sat up.
She glanced blearily at her compartment as she struggled out of her sleeping bag, then frowned, puzzled. She wasn't usually a restless sleeper, yet somehow she'd managed to twist the sleeping bag halfway around so that the zipper was on top instead of to one side. She shook her head as she slipped her bare feet into her boots, tugging the cuffs of her sweatpants from her knees to her ankles. She tucked her hands into her sleeves as she unzipped the tent, and stepped out into the chilly morning.
She squinted at the lake; the rising sun sparkling on it, the water a thousand jewels glittering mirror?bright, dotted here and here with ducks...it was beautiful, peaceful. She looked to the campsite, heat rising on her cheeks as she remembered last night, marshmallows and her wandering mind. What *had* she been thinking last night? She had been perilously close to...
*To what? To take a chance that has nothing to do with Mulder's quest for once? To do something so spontaneous it would knock you -both- for a loop?*
A splashing interrupted her mental derision, and she looked towards the sound at the edge of the lake.
It was Skinner. Shirtless. Washing up.
She watched transfixed as his big hands rubbed up and down his arms, his skin glistening in the morning sun. He reached down and scooped the sparkling water up over his face and head, shaking off with a huff at the chill. She shivered with him, either in sympathy or just at the sight of him in only those tight jeans....He blinked the water out of his eyes and reached for his glasses.
She had grabbed a towel and was halfway to him by the time he hooked the glasses on, and as he stood back up she finally regained the powers of speech. "Here..."
Well, marginally.
He looked down in surprise at the towel, then back to her as he reached for it. "Thanks." His damp hand closed on the towel, and their eyes met. He didn't take the towel, he didn't move; neither did she. The whole forest seemed to be holding its breath.
*Do something!*
No! She tore her gaze away from him, letting go of the towel, and looked once again to the campsite. "I, ah...have some powerbars for breakfast if you want to break camp early."
"Good idea." He sounded as breathless as she felt, and she almost turned back to him to see if he had the same look in his eye as before....no. She was going to take down the tent, help him bank the fire, they would go on their merry way, and she would get these dangerous thoughts out of her head.
*But what if those thoughts are in his head too?*
*If I have to tell you one more time to shut--*
"Scully?" The tentative, almost reluctant tone of his voice made her turn around.
His gaze was just as tentative, and his hands twisted the towel over itself. "How did you sleep?"
The words seemed to tumble over each other, rushing to get out of his mouth, and she felt her eyebrows draw together in puzzlement. His concern made her nervous....and curious. What could have prompted his question?
*Biting cold, his soothing voice...curled against his warmth.*
Oh lord....the heat rose in her face. She opened her mouth to give her not-answer of "fine", but nothing came out. If she'd, if he'd--oh lord...
With an almost audible "click", the shutters closed in his eyes, his gaze and posture returned to neutral. His jaw twitched as he shook his head. "Nevermind...nevermind. Let's get started with breaking camp."
He brushed by her as she stood mute, while mentally she was kicking herself for bringing back The Boss. That was her name for it; that look and attitude, it oozed "official". The Boss didn't smile, didn't laugh, and certainly didn't toast marshmallows with co-workers. And now she would do anything to get the other Skinner back.
*That's easy...all you have to do is thank him for whatever he did last night. But that would mean admitting _you're_ vulnerable too, wouldn't it?*
Her lip curled into a delicate snarl at the mental jeer, and turned to help him break camp. The tent seemed to sense her turbulent mood and didn't give her a bit of trouble as she and Skinner worked in silence. She couldn't say anything, not after she'd met his careful overture with nothing. He was her--
*Former boss*
*He is my superior!* She didn't dare consider it. But she wanted to....
Enough. They glanced around at the campsite, looking at anyone but each other. He gave a curt nod, and she took out the compass and map. She took the lead without asking, and as they set off through the trees she tried to put that tentative, vulnerable gaze out of her mind.
*****
The bump on Skinner's head throbbed steadily as they hiked through the morning; he gritted his teeth and endured. The pain was fitting, roughly the same pain he'd be feeling if he was doing what he wanted to be doing, which was banging his head against a wall. His own words kept nagging at him, prodding him with derision as he followed Scully down the path.
*How did you sleep? How did you SLEEP? HOW did you SLEEP? What the HELL was I thinking?* He wished he had something in his hands; he wanted to break something, and silently thanked the powers that be for Scully taking the lead. The compass would have been history. He settled for stepping on every branch he could find, taking small comfort in the wooden *snaps!* that punctuated their progress.
They reached the first checkpoint ahead of schedule, and their canteen break was thick with a tension he could feel. The humidity made his clothes cling to him, only serving to increase the cloying feelings battling inside him. He grimaced at the tepid water, trying to remember when it had been ice cold and refreshing this morning. It seemed an eternity ago.
He shouldn't have said anything. How could he have thought she'd open up to him just like that?
*You didn't know how different it would be in the morning.*
This was very true. Last night had been firelight and shadows, glimpses of insight into each other that they never would have seen before. Even later it was blackness and taste, the raw fear of Scully's mysterious flashback, the ice of her skin, the warmth of his body against hers, bleeding into her. The feel of her hair against his cheek...the flutter of her lips a moment later...
He rose quickly as the memory of last night manifested itself more than a little visibly. He turned away from her as he felt the flush creep up his neck, gazing at the trees that surrounded them. The last thing he wanted her to see was him blushing like a high school senior and trying to hide a hard-on. This wasn't last evening's shadows, or last night's blackness. This was daylight, where everything was revealed in the sun's glare, consequences, doubts.....fears.
It was the last that chased around his mind the most, and the fastest. Jokes and marshmallows aside, did he honestly think she would look twice at him when there was a whole world of men out there that would throw themselves at her feet?
*But she did look twice, Walt.*
He shook his head. *That was different. That was last night.*
*You think that kind of look cares what time it is?*
He jammed the cap back on his canteen. *If that was true, she would have said something this morning, and I wouldn't be ready to bump my head again just to shut you up.* He'd had enough.
He turned to Scully and saw that she was watching him, her expression thoughtful, quizzical--and something more. What was it...? Before he could grasp it, she blinked as she caught him watching her watching him.
Silence. Even the birds were quiet. The tension cranked up a notch, and he almost drowned in it, the uncertainty, the fear...He reached for the map, his lifeline on the moment, forcing the words from his mouth. "I can take the lead for a while. My head's not hurting as much anymore."
At his words, things seemed to rush back in. The forest sounds, the stifling humidity, all of it came crashing back as if the past few minutes had existed in a sort of flux, a time to figure out where he was, what he wanted to do.
He realized with a pang that he felt lost; there was no map, no compass to follow on *this* trail. It frightened him, not knowing how to proceed, what to expect. Yet somehow it exhilarated him. He was reminded for a moment of a roller-coaster. Not the speed and the loops and the shouts...that first rise, the clackety-clack as the train trundles towards the top, the feeling at the small of his back where if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs. Terrifying and thrilling.
She handed him the map, unaware of the flux, the feelings that hovered in his stomach. "Whenever you're ready." Her tone was neutral, flat, and he nearly winced away from it. He didn't want it to be this way, not after last night. Still, he thought, what could he really say without telling her why he was acting like an ass? *I'm sorry if I seem a bit awkward this morning, Scully. I've been too busy thinking about how wonderful you felt against me last night.*
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his compass, again glad that it hadn't been in his hands earlier. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Scully rise, hefting the pack onto her shoulders, and then they were off.
*****
Scully wiped the sweat from her brow, trying to ignore the burning pain in her calves as she tried to keep up with Skinner. He'd set a grueling pace since their tension-laden break, and she was too out of breath to do more than keep pace with her longer-legged boss. Since she had neither the breath nor the inclination to talk, her thoughts returned to the familiar route of self-criticism.
She should have said something this morning. They were so alike, she should have *known* how hard that was for him to open up, even that little bit. Why hadn't she said anything? She smiled wryly to herself because she knew that the fact they were so alike was why she *hadn't* said anything. It was too easy for both of them to erect emotional walls, while it took quite a bit more to let any of the existing ones down.
*Neither of you seemed to have a problem last night.*
*It was different last night* she told herself primly.
Maybe it was their connection with the military, the transience of all it embodied that kept them both at a distance from the world. She had grown up a Navy brat, her family never staying in one place long enough to settle in. She had never tried hard to make many friends because she didn't know when her father would get another transfer and she would move on again. Skinner's experiences in combat had likely kept him from making friends because he wasn't sure if they would all be alive the next day.
*I repeat, what about last night?*
*Same issue, new setting.* Last night had been the equivalent of one of her slumber parties when she was younger, or one of his nights on leave, a chance for some brief intimacy, a little bit of feeling close to someone before the sun rose and things moved on.
At least it should have been the same.
Something had happened last night, something that had to do with the panic-then-warmth of her nightmare, and it had made Skinner want to address it the next day where ordinarily the feelings should have faded with the sunrise. She wished she knew what it was--no, that wasn't it. She had a strong suspicion what it was, she just wish that it hadn't happened now, when they were alone. No OPD to shake heads and cluck disapproving tongues. No Mulder to keep her mind active and away from these dangerous thoughts she was having about her boss. No doubt in her mind as to how the sleeping bag had gotten turned around last night, and the little flutter that went through her at the thought of waking up with his arms around her.
*Oh come on! How long can you go on repressing this? Until another Ed Jerse sweeps you off your feet?*
God, what a nightmare that had been. To throw herself at someone even more screwed up than Mulder, even more unreachable than Skinner. Punishing herself, showing herself the bad side of pursuing either of the men in her life by courting the extreme. Telling herself, "See? Desire is dangerous, look what happened this time."
But now things were different. She'd been given her life back by powers unknown, be they the Cancerman or the Almighty. She had a second chance to do what she should have done before, and giving in to desire was certainly something she hadn't done in the past six years. But...
*But what? He's one of two men who would understand what you do at work, how it affects you.*
But...
*And unlike one of them, his heart and soul isn't already in hock to his own personal quests.*
But...
*And if you even start to think that you don't know how he feels about you, then you're going to blow your second chance at finding out.*
She glanced ahead at him, his backpack bobbing as they practically charged through the woods towards their next checkpoint. She glanced at her watch and frowned as she saw that it was barely five o'clock. How could it be getting dark so soon if it was only five?
The answer came in the form of a gust of wind that nearly knocked her over, and a flash of lightning that blinded her. She heard a shouted obscenity just before the crash of thunder shook the trees around them. She ran up to him as he desperately scanned the map, and as he met her gaze the look in his eyes told her that he hadn't noticed the storm blowing up either.
"We have to get out of these trees!" He shouted as the wind continued to build, and the *CRACK* of timber nearby made them both jump. "This way!"
Fear and adrenaline gave her a second wind as she ran after him, trusting that he was heading to a clearing, preferably on high ground to avoid the impending flood. Branches whipped in her face, and she fended them off with her hands as they charged uphill. Please, let us make it somewhere where we can find cover before it starts to...
The first fat drops hit her backpack before she could finish the thought, and she barely had time to swear before the sky opened up and released a torrent of pounding rain. Within seconds, both of them were drenched to the skin, and as the trail slowly disappeared under the rain they were both slipping and sliding, struggling towards safety.
They broke through the trees and into a clearing as the wind howled about them, and as she wiped the water from her eyes Skinner grabbed her by the arms, spinning her around and nearly sending her to the ground. "The wind shield will do for us until this dies down!" She felt him tugging at her pack and silently willed him to *hurry*...
A loud CRASH of both thunder and timber made them both jump, and Scully looked back to see one of the larger trees topple over in a shower of sparks and splinters, right along the path they'd just slogged through to get here. "Jesus..."
"Get under!" The plastic tarp was flung around her. "Grab hold!" The rain roared against the plastic as she crouched underneath it and as she blinked the water from her eyes she felt his arm curl around her, pulling her close. She could barely hear their breathing as they huddled under the tarp, and now that she could think again she wondered if he was feeling as small as she was in the shadow of nature's fury. Neither of them spoke as they waited out the storm.
As strong as the storm had hit, however, it couldn't maintain its power for long. Within a few minutes, the wind and rain had slackened, and by the time Scully could count to five-one-thousand between lightning and thunder, she'd loosened her panicked grip on the tarp. The rain remained, a steady silvery curtain that shimmered before them, but the danger of the storm seemed to have passed. It was only as she started to breathe easier that she actually felt the warm bulk of Skinner pressed against her arm and side. She looked over at him, and saw that his eyes mirrored the silent "Wow," that she was sure was in hers.
"We should--"
"Get the tent up." Skinner looked at the rain, shaking his head. "I don't think this is going to stop anytime soon, and if we hike in wet shoes we won't be able to walk tomorrow."
They stood up, still a bit reluctant to leave the relative shelter of the tarp. Some warmth had gathered between them, and the thought of stepping out into the cold rain made her shiver for another reason. With a deep breath, she stepped out and looked around, heard Skinner do the same.
Aside from the rain and the one downed tree, she thought, the area didn't look any worse for wear. The ground wasn't too muddy, but she thanked God that the sleeping bags were water resistant, as was the tent floor. As she surveyed the damage, Skinner pointed to a stand of trees.
"We can tie the tarp above the tent over there to keep the rain off while we set up. Should keep the walls dry once we're in." She looked down at herself, then at him, their clothes plastered to their bodies from the rain, and echoed her chuckle. "We'll try to get us dry too. Did you bring any wool clothing with you?"
She nodded, thanking her father for the reflex that made her pack them. "Yeah, one sweater and two pairs of socks. You?"
"Same here, and it looks like we'll need them." He put his hands on his hips and looked around. "If the rain doesn't let up we'll have to cold camp. No way we're going to find wood that will burn after this storm."
Cold camp. Cold. "Let's get the tent up." She felt a residual pulse of adrenaline fuel her words as she shed her pack, grabbing the rest of the tent stuff with an urgency that both puzzled and scared her.
The tent was assembled quicker with both of them working on it, and with the makeshift tarp-roof they were able to unpack their clothes and sleeping bags with minimal water damage. She saw the plastic bag of marshmallows just before he tossed it into the tent; she felt her lips curl into a smile at the memories that rose at the sight of it. The warmth of the fire, his smile, the memories they shared...
"Scully, are you all right?"
She wanted the warmth back, so badly...
"Scully!"
She dragged her head up to look at him, saw his urgent eyes. She wanted to tell him it was all right but her teeth were chattering so bad she couldn't get the words out. She was so cold...
"Get in the tent, now!"
Strong hands pushed her inside. The rain pattered above the blue walls and ceiling, but so softly she wasn't even sure if it was rain. Sounds seemed so far away that his voice sounded like a muffled growling. Pop-op-op-op went her shirt buttons, the sopping flannel shoved off her shoulders. What...was he stripping her?
Heat. His hands were so warm, trailing warmth across her body as he pushed her shoulders, sat her down, moving to tug at her boots and socks. "Get these off...c'mon!" Two quick yanks, her feet bared. She watched, wanting to help him, knowing what he was doing, but she couldn't feel anything but the cold.
His hands were at her waist now, struggling with her jeans, peeling them down and off. She huddled inside her head as his hands disappeared. She was so cold, she couldn't move, could barely breathe....he pulled her down into the other compartment. Soft fleecy material surrounded her, then the hard heat of his body as he slid in behind her. "C'mon, Scully, c'mon back....you're all right."
Cold, cold...warmth. His hands over hers, rubbing frantically, warming her. She felt life returning to numbed limbs, flexed them slowly. Fingers, toes, jaw...she blinked, coming back to herself, feeling his warmth giving her strength back.
*given your life back by the powers that be*
Finally able to take a deep breath, his hands slowing down, now gently chafing against her skin.
"You're all right..."
*never get another second chance*
She shifted in his arms, and as she turned she felt his arousal, pressing urgently into her thigh.
*how he feels about you*
"Scully?" One word asking so many things, his whole body tense as he knew she had felt him.
"Yes…." She reached up and pulled his mouth to hers, and she was kissing him before she could come back fully, too far back for her to dare it.
Rating: PG-13
Keywords: Skinner/Scully romance
Spoilers: Field Trip, Never Again, Redux I and II, Fight the Future
Summary: Scully and Skinner, an orienteering/survival seminar, and lots of repressed feelings.
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine. Not making any money from it, just exploring what the show won't.
Acknowledgements: My lovely beta-gang: Sally Bradstreet (for the inspiration), Louise Kingwood and Bonnie Drew; the friendly bunch on the Scuttlebutts list, and of course the Sisters in Smut, without whom we wouldn't be so organized!
And special thanks, as always, to Lyrica, whose "Sharp Focus" kicked my Sk/Sc obsession into overdrive!
Enjoy, folks.....read and review! It's a work in progress, mind you, so more chapters will be forthcoming :)
*****
*Compass, check. Canteen, check. Extra tent stakes, check. Topographical map.....map, map, map......*
"Scully, do you..." Assistant Director Skinner paused in his query as the object of his attention was currently bent over, retying her boot lacing. He watched her deft fingers re-tie the knot, fingers that had tended to him more than once, and suppressed a smile at their dexterity. At the whole ensemble actually.
Gone were the conservative suits and the too-high heels that she normally wore. In their place was a pair of faded jeans, a green flannel shirt that looked soft as a kitten, light jacket and those hiking boots. With her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, wisps of it framing her face, she looked as if she'd never put on her usual suit, and when she turned to face him, he suddenly couldn't picture her in anything else.
"Sir?" The mountain breeze stirred her hair, and she brushed it out of her face, breaking him from his reverie.
"Do you have the map?" He nearly bit his tongue in half to stay the other questions on his mind.
"Right there, with my pack." She indicated the hiking backpack that leaned against a nearby log, where the map flapped at him from its place between her sleeping bag and the pack itself. He nodded, then turned his attention to the "Listen up!" that hailed them from the clearing.
Agent Phelps stood on a tree stump, his voice raised to reach the edge of the group that gathered around him. Skinner felt a pang of sympathy as he looked over the assembled agents, most of them seasoned agents, some green....and very few with a knowledge of wilderness survival or orienteering. All of them partners, save for him, who volunteered for this workshop to get away from driving a desk, and Scully, a result of her partner's sudden hemorrhoidal condition.
*Never thought I'd thank Mulder's ass for _anything_....*
"Okay, people, you have seventy-two hours to reach the rendezvous point, making sure to reach each checkpoint listed on your maps! It gets cold up here at night, even in July, so I hope you all read your essentials list! If one of you gets hurt, put up your flare and someone will find you! Good luck, people, and see you at the rendezvous!"
Skinner slid his arms into the straps of the bulky hiker's backpack, and saw Scully do the same. Their eyes met, and he saw a combination of determination and excitement. He smiled at the expression, knowing that he must be showing the same. "Ready?"
She smiled back. "As I'll ever be."
He pulled the map from her pack and found the first checkpoint. By unspoken assent, he took the first bearing, and they set off silently into the woods.
******
Scully sat down on a nearby rock with a sigh, unclipping the canteen from her pack. The tepid water did little to ease her thirst, but she drank while she could. She knew they wouldn't rest long before they set off for the next checkpoint; they both wanted to gain a few more miles before the sun went down.
The going had been rough today, more than she was used to after the few weeks spent behind a desk and interviewing fertilizer buyers. *I'm surprised Mulder didn't come on this workshop just to get out of the "piles of doo?doo,"* she mused as she inhaled a deep breath of mountain air. The orienteering refresher had been a welcome chance to escape the mound of grunt work that had been assigned, despite the grueling workout she was getting. Still, she wondered as she splashed some of the water on her hands, maybe some of her breathlessness had been because of her hiking companion than the actual trek.
Looking at him now, dark eyes sharp as he scanned the terrain, hands steady as he looked at the compass, then the map, his red and black flannel shirt and faded blue jeans doing little to hide the fact that this desk jockey still kept in shape.....she licked her lips and looked away, lest she be caught eyeing up her boss as if he were a piece of rare prime rib.
*Former boss, Dana, former boss...and doesn't _that_ make things more interesting?*
She had never seen him in anything other than his usual 'uniform' of starched white shirts with dark suits or a hospital gown with an IV in his arm, and this new image of him was...most interesting.
She tilted her head to one side, then the other, hearing and feeling the satisfying 'pop' as her neck relaxed, and she reached up to massage the area just under her ears. She looked forward to shedding the pack on her back this evening, and for a moment the image lingered in her mind; those broad, strong fingers so gentle on her neck, soothing away the day's hike with small, circular movements....
"Scully."
Her head turned reflexively at the summons. He still stood on the small rise, and he beckoned to her with the binoculars he held. "Come take a look."
She stepped up next to him and took the proffered binoculars. "Look," he said, pointing over her shoulder off to the east. Standing this close, she could just catch the scent of his soap, could just feel the heat of his arm against her cheek. Her body responded to the scent, the heat, and she blinked to clear her mind as she pressed the binoculars to her eyes. *Not now....*
She peered through the binoculars, following the direction that he pointed. "What am I looking for?"
His voice was soft against her ear. "You'll see it...right by that stand of trees."
She looked again, and caught her breath as she saw it; the black body, and the majestic white head and tail of a bald eagle, perched in the high branches of a tree, a large fish clutched in its talons. As she watched, it began tearing at the fish with quick, almost dainty tugs of its beak. She continued to watch, transfixed; all those summers camping with her family, and the closest thing she came to wildlife were the raccoons that raided their trash every year.
*Probably because you had two noisy brothers who scared away all but the boldest animals in the forest* She thought with a soft smile. How long had it been since she'd been camping, *really* camping, not fighting for her life as the quarry of the Moth Men? She couldn't remember, but as she watched the beautiful bird, the memories sifted back into her mind. Marshmallows and singing and happy times....
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Even as the whisper breezed across her cheek, the eagle opened its beak and called, the piercing cry echoing to them seconds later.
"Beautiful..." she breathed, the sound of her own voice bringing her out of her thoughts. She blinked, lowering the binoculars. How long had she stood here? She looked to Skinner, already opening her mouth to apologize for staying so long...and stopped when she saw him, really *saw* him. His dark-eyed gaze was more intense than she'd ever seen, but somehow not threatening, not the intimidating, implacable glare that sent the faint of heart scurrying from his office.
And he was watching *her*.
The scream of a blue jay perched overhead jolted them both out of the moment with a start. Skinner looked out at the horizon, she at her boots.
"We should get going, find a place to camp for the night." The gruff, all-business Boss was back. She opened her mouth to agree, then had a sudden thought.
"Sir, if the eagle had a fish, there must be a lake or pond somewhere near those trees. If it's close enough, do you want to try and camp there?" He looked down at the map, and she added, "We could wash up, maybe refill the canteens..." She winced inwardly at the last. *Terrific, I sound like a damned tenderfoot!*
He looked at the compass, then back over the rise. "We can make it if we hustle...and I know how you feel. I'm getting a bit tired of warm canteen water myself." She caught his subtle grimace with relieved smile. "You want to take the lead for a while, Scully?" A wry grin flashed over his features; it flattered him. "The view will undoubtedly be better."
*Oh, I wouldn't go _that_ far!* She squelched that little thought as she matched his grin with her own, taking the map from his hand. With a deep breath in her lungs and the next bearing in her mind, she set off to the east, already feeling the cool of the anticipated water soothing her dusty throat.
*****
Skinner ducked under another tree limb as they began their descent into the little valley, wondering if letting her lead had been a good idea logistically. She was doing an excellent job, keeping a good pace and reaching another of their checkpoints ahead of schedule. Still, he thought, he was glad that it was still light enough to see, or he would have been out cold about two miles back. He squinted into the light of the setting sun, trying to gauge how much time he had before his cranium was in serious danger.
He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, feeling the mountain air eat away at the remnants of the city tension. How long had it been since he'd just gotten away from the work-monkey on his back? The fact that he couldn't remember how long it had been told him volumes, and he took another deep breath, savoring the crisp bite of the air, mingled with the scent of earth and crushed leaves.
*Leaves!* He ducked another branch, feeling the cool of the green leaves as they brushed his scalp. He smirked to himself; he'd have to watch a little closer if he wanted to make it to the lake unscathed.
*Admit it, you're just mad because you have to watch out for low branches instead of watching her.*
He frowned and told that thought where exactly it could go and concentrated on the hike. *One foot in front of the other, Walter....never mind the fact that you nearly lost it when you showed her the eagle.* How had he known that she would appreciate the sight of the raptor? Something in him just knew, and had warmed at the soft gasp she'd made when she spotted it. He could still smell the fresh, clean scent of her soap, could see the wonder in her eyes, and then she'd looked at him... He yanked his mind away from *that* path and back to the terrain ahead--
--and shouted in surprise as his head collided with unyielding wood. He stepped back, pressing his hand to his forehead, cursing his wandering mind and as Scully turned around. He knew that his blunder would alert her to her own regarding their height differences, and he sighed as she approached.
Her gaze was anxious as she reached up. "Are you all right? Let me see... "
Her hands touched his shoulders to bring him closer, and he backed out of her grasp. "I'm fine, Scully...it's just a bump." He blinked, feeling the tightness of the skin that told him he'd have a hell of a goose-egg by nightfall. Ow. He probed at the spot again and grimaced, both at the pain, but also at the guilty look that appeared on Scully's face.
"Sir, I'm sorry...I--"
He held up his hand to stay her apology. "It's all right...just got distracted for a second there." He felt suddenly self?conscious, as if she knew exactly what had distracted him.
"I still should have been paying more attention. He could hear the anger in her voice at what she thought was her mistake.
"I'm the one that hurt myself, Scully." *You could never hurt me.* "You're doing fine. *I* should have been paying more attention."
She still looked uncertain. "Maybe you should take the lead again?" He hated that look; he wanted to see her smile again. But how....inspiration struck.
He reached behind him, into the waistband of his jeans, and pulled out a battered navy blue USMC baseball cap that he'd brought to protect him from sunburn. He slipped it on carefully, mindful of his head, and tugged on the brim. "There...instant branch detector." He smiled at her. "Now I can think of all the paperwork I've left behind without getting a smack on the head from Mother Nature."
She returned the smile; his heart skipped a beat. "I'll still keep an eye out for low bridges." She arched her eyebrow at him, as if daring him to challenge her consideration.
He knew better than to contradict *that* look, and instead gestured to the waiting woods. "Carry on." He watched as she set off again, this time glancing up every now and then, keeping an eye out, as she said. He smiled despite the low throb that was beginning on his head and followed, confident now that he was safe, from low branches at least, if not from his wandering mind.
*****
The lake sparkled in the light of the setting sun, so bright that Scully had to shield her eyes to look across the water. She let her backpack slide off her shoulders with a sigh of relief, and she glanced around for a suitable campsite. *Preferably close to the water,* she thought; she itched to at least splash her hands and face, but they wouldn't have light for long, and she didn't want to have to struggle with tent stakes in the dark.
She spotted the little clearing just as Skinner dropped his pack on the grass next to it. She watched him for a moment, and he pressed his hands to the small of his back, bending back a bit to stretch tired muscles. She smiled in sympathy; those last two miles were hard going, and she was sure his headache wasn't helping matters much. Her fingers twitched, and for a moment she thought about going to him, rubbing her thumbs against his back, listening to him sigh....she shoved that to the back of her mind, giving herself a mental poke. *What IS it with you today?*
Instead, she called to him, "You want to start a fire while I pitch the tent?"
He straightened as if he'd been goosed, and looked over at her. "Sounds good." He went to his pack and grabbed a flashlight. "There's an extra set of stakes in my pack if you need them."
She nodded. "Once we get settled, I have a cold pack in my first aid kit. Should help that head a bit."
He gave a little smile. "We'll see how I hold up." With a nod, he set off into the woods for firewood.
For the next ten minutes she struggled with the unruly billow of nylon that had until recently lain docile in its compact bundle. At least she'd won the first battle; the tent was lying floor-down and roof-up instead of the other way around. The poles were a little better behaved, assembling with little difficulty and she slipped them into place with minimal effort. She looked around for the stakes, and frowned when she saw that they were neither on the ground nor in the bag of "tent". She was sure she'd packed them, and when a frantic search through her pack yielded nothing, she glanced over to his, lying mutely against a rock. With a mental shrug, she went to it, unzipping the bag.
She felt odd rummaging through his things, but there was a curious bit of her that giggled at the fun of it. She was struck with a memory of flinging Bill Junior's underwear into the highest branches she could find, and stifled a laugh as the heat rose in her cheeks. *Okay, maybe more than a bit,* she thought as she opened the flap and looked inside.
Everything was neatly ordered; jacket on top, shirts in the middle, one pair of pants, shaving kit in a plastic bag.... She passed over the briefs and pushed aside the shaving kit, looking for the stakes, and stopped, pulling something out and looking at it with puzzled wonderment.
He'd packed marshmallows.
She squeezed the bag softly and thought back to the day's hike. Yes, Walter Skinner had been her partner on this field trip. The same one that had taken her and Mulder to task for any number of things. The same one who had stood like a rock between the X-Files and the ones who shut them down for good. Her boss,
*Former boss.*
the Marine, marshmallows....she shook her head, trying to put that third bit with the others. She smiled, unable to picture it, and picked up the bundle of tent stakes from beneath her discovery. She replaced the bag of marshmallows carefully and slipped the items atop them, as if she'd never found it.
As she turned towards the tent, she shook her head with a chuckle. There was something about the woods, being away from the soul-draining demand of work, that brought out the child in her. It was almost as if, since the pressures of everyday life were pushed away by a mountain breeze, she had let the breeze carry away her worries, her professional demeanor, and let herself enjoy this trip. Perhaps he felt the same, she didn't know, but that bag in his pack certainly suggested it.
She wondered if that same wind was kicking *his* libido into overdrive the way it was her, then shook her head. Maybe it was a hormone thing, some primitive instinct to nest, to seek a mate, brought about by the wilderness setting. She put it out of her mind as she went back to the task at hand.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, she tugged and smoothed the tent into submission, and as she tied off the nylon wind shield, she heard rustling in the direction that Skinner had gone to get firewood. She delved into her pack once more, grabbing the gel-pak from her first aid kit and tossing it into the center of the three-compartment tent for when he was done with the fire. She zipped up the tent and dusted her hands off, then turned to the lake. *Now* she was going to wash her hands and face.
*****
Skinner emerged from the trees, hefting the bundle of wood over one aching shoulder (the shoulder *away* from the bump on his head), to see Scully emerge from the tent and head towards the water. He saw that considerably more hair had come loose from her ponytail, and chuckled as the image of her wrestling with the tent came to mind. He was glad for the grunt work of gathering firewood; he didn't think he could handle a tent like that. Small canvas two-man tents were one thing; three-compartment nylon monstrosities were quite another.
He dropped the bundle of wood next to the tent, and she turned at the sound. For a moment he just looked at her, the breeze blowing her hair into her face, the scattering of freckles across her nose that he'd never noticed at the office, the lush pout of her lips...shit, he was staring! He shook his head to clear it, then met her quizzical gaze with a smile. "Going to wash up?" *Way to improvise, Marine. You going to offer to carry her books next?*
She nodded. "Yeah...You want me to refill the canteens too?" She pointed to the canteen dangling from his belt, and he gratefully seized on the opportunity. He unclipped it and tossed it to her, watching her catch it with a quick grab. "I'll help you with the fire pit as soon as I'm done."
"Take your time, Scully...you got the tent up, I'll take care of the fire."
She shrugged a silent sounds-good-to-me, then turned and walked towards the water once more.
Walter Skinner prided himself on his ability to keep his cool in any situation, to take things in stride no matter how unexpected, or at least look as if he was expecting it. He didn't expect what happened next, but later would recall how it all happened as if in slow motion.
He saw Scully walk towards the water....he saw the section of root ahead of her, sticking out of the sand. He saw her foot come down too close to it, and on the next step, her walk arrested abruptly. The canteens went flying into the shallows, and her whoop of surprise startled a flock of ducks into flight as she fell, her head and shoulders landing in the water with a *splash!*.
He ran to her, knowing that a sprained ankle would be a hell of a lot worse than a bump on the head. "Are you all right?" His stomach twisted at the thought of her being hurt...
She pushed herself out of the water and turned to him. The wisps of hair were plastered to her face, the kitten-soft shirt was soaked and clingy, and as she wiped the water out of her eyes she left a gritty trail of sand across her face. In short, the woman he'd been watching all day now bore more of a resemblance to a bedraggled puppy than the woman of his....the laughter bubbled up and was out before he could stop it.
She looked up at him, and the incredulous look in her eyes only made it harder to choke the laughter back. He bit the insides of his cheeks hard, and he calmed enough to speak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry....are you all right?" He coughed to disguise the chuckle in his voice, trying desperately to regain his composure.
She looked down at herself, and he saw her shoulders begin to shake. His mirth deflated instantly. Oh god, he'd made her cry. Her own boss laughing at her, it must have hit her like a punch in the stomach. "Scully, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to--"
--but when she looked back up, her eyes were smiling, her face flushed with embarrassment, not tears. "I'm okay....just took a mean bump in the pride." She looked to the lake, where their canteens were floating, and chuckled ruefully. "And, as long as I'm used to the water, I'll go fish those out." She blew ineffectually at a strand of hair and held out her hand. "Help me up?"
He reached down and grasped her hand, grateful for the chance to redeem himself. He couldn't believe he'd been so crass as to laugh at her, and as soon as she got the canteens he'd make it up to her....
Her hand tightened in his, her foot swept under his ankle, and she yanked, hard. With a shout, he toppled and fell, and spluttered up out of the water to the sound of her laughter. He shook the water out of his face, speechless with the shock of it. She'd....she'd....this is *Scully*? No, Scully was the demure, businesslike angel to Mulder's demons, not this creature with dancing blue eyes and musical laughter and a smile that stopped his heart. He looked at her for a moment, wondering if this was all some weird hallucination, until she spoke.
"Misery loves company, sir. Couldn't let you have all the fun." She grinned impudently at him, then winked. *Winked!* "Gotcha."
Through her mirth, he could see the nervousness behind her eyes; she was taking a big chance, kidding this way with him, and she knew it. And he hated it. That she would be this anxious for his approval made him feel like the world's worst boss, and an even bigger heel for laughing at her. Still....she *had* pulled him into the water. His grin had a wry twist to it as he licked his finger and drew a tick mark in the air, punctuating it with a *kssss*. "Touche, Agent Scully." He winked back at her and levered himself up out of the water.
He looked to the sparkling lake, where their canteens were already floating beyond wading distance. "I'll get the canteens, you start the fire. We're both gonna need a warm up when the sun goes all the way down."
She snapped a two-fingered salute. "Aye aye." He could hear the smile in her voice, and as he waded into the cold water, it warmed him to his toes.
*****
Scully huddled closer to the fire as her teeth threatened to chatter. Her hair still wasn't fully dry, and each breeze brought with it a new chill that seemed to go straight to her bones, despite the heavy fisherman's sweater and sweatpants. She glanced at Skinner, seated on the other side of the blaze, for a moment envying his lack of hair.
She smiled at his bowed head, watching him dig the dirt out of his boot soles, a little frown of concentration creasing his brow. She couldn't put her finger on it, but he looked....different to her, and it wasn't until he looked up and caught her watching did she realize what it was.
He looked relaxed. That was it. Here, out in the wilderness, he was free of the daily pressures that came with his job. No Consortium breathing down his neck, no rogue agents with outrageous expense reports....no walls. Nothing between him and his enjoyment of the wilderness. That constant *awareness* that came with being a law enforcement professional was still there, but it wasn't at the front of his mind. And it showed; the hard line of his jaw was softened to the simple determination of cleaning his boots. The cold glare of his eyes was warmed by the fire, even his imposing build was subdued by the soft cotton of the sweatshirt.
Though not everything was as subdued, she'd noticed; those faded jeans certainly brought things into sharper focus, particularly when he bent to put another log on the fire. She'd had to duck into the tent until the heat left her face, silently berating herself for the lapse of sanity. *I will _not_ watch my boss's ass, I will _not_...*
She blinked as his gaze turned inquisitive...shit, she was staring! She lowered her eyes and fumbled for something, anything to say. "Sorry....I was just thinking of the other times I'd been camping." *Oh, good one, Doc. That's what he wants to hear....*
"Recently, or when you were younger?" He set the boots aside and dusted his hands off on his knees. She blinked in surprise at the interest in his gaze, and felt a little thrill run through her.
"When I was younger....I used to go camping with my family a lot." She couldn't stop the smile at the memories. "I don't know how my parents did it." She poked at the fire with a stick she'd grabbed from the pile of kindling. "We were quite a handful."
He chuckled; she loved the way it sounded. "I can imagine." Was it the light, or did she see him smile? "Who was worse, the girls or the boys?"
She felt her grin widen at the question; she remembered so clearly, as if it were yesterday. "Well, it was pretty much a give and take.....Bill and Charlie gave, Missy and I took." A log popped on the fire. "Bill put a frog in my sleeping bag, I threw his underwear in a tree. The boys put worms in our shoes, we took their clothes when they were in the shower."
The chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh, and she laughed with him. She loved the sound; she wanted to hear it more often, to know that he still had a smile left in him after all they'd been through over the past years. Hell, to know that *she* still had one made her feel better, and she was secretly glad that Skinner had been the one to see it. As they settled into a comfortable silence, she remembered the one time she had seen him smile.
Her family had been hovering, the priest standing off to one side when he'd edged into her hospital room. She remembered the awkwardness that radiated from him, as if he wasn't sure he should be there, after all the suspicion and the anger and the pain. Then she'd met his uncertain gaze, trying to apologize and welcome him and share her new-found health all at once. The corners of his mouth had twitched up and his brown eyes softened....
Skinner reached back into his pack, his voice muffled as he rummaged through it. "Well, if you promise not to throw my underwear in a tree, I suppose you can have some of these."
The crinkle of a plastic bag shook her from her reverie, and she smiled as he brought out the marshmallows. "Only if you promise not to put a frog in my sleeping bag."
"Deal." He popped open the bag and picked up two long sticks that she had seen him grab from the firewood. He pushed a marshmallow onto a stick and handed it to her; she accepted it with a smile and a blush, feeling more than a bit awkward. Here she was, Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI, toasting marshmallows with her boss on a training seminar. It all seemed so surreal; she wondered if she should pinch herself.
She heard the soft 'foomf' of a marshmallow in flames, and gave an, "Ack!" of alarm as she saw Skinner blowing out his now?charred snack. He looked over at her cry as he popped the marshmallow into his mouth. "Hm?"
"You eat them like *that*?" She couldn't help but wrinkle her nose, which only seemed to amuse him.
He swallowed the mouthful and smiled. "Is there any other way?"
"There most certainly is!" She held her marshmallow just above the fire. "Watch and learn..sir."
Holding the marshmallow in the heat of the flames, she turned it carefully, watching the skin of it turn a golden brown while Skinner looked on. She waited a bit longer, then pulled her stick back with a grin. "See? Perfect." She held her stick out to him. "Try it."
He looked at it with mock disdain. "It's not even done."
"It tastes better than the carbon nuggets you've been eating." She smiled. "Come on.'
He reached out and tugged, frowning a bit as just the skin came off. After examining it for a moment, he put it in his mouth. She watched with an expectant smile as his expression changed from skeptical to surprised to a nod of enjoyment. "See?"
"Not bad....not bad." He grinned. "But it takes too long." He grabbed another marshmallow and put it on the end of his stick.
She felt her eyebrow arch. "Patience is a virtue, sir," she chided, then winced as his marshmallow went up in flames. His grin widened at her expression as he blew it out.
"No better time like the present, Scully." This time he ate the marshmallow right off the stick instead of using his fingers.
Her retort died in her throat at the sight of his mouth closing around the marshmallow, his teeth tugging it gently off the stick. The heat she felt earlier rushed back to her face as she watched his tongue poke out and sweep the bits of fluff from his lips. The image that thrust into her mind was frighteningly vivid.
*She sees herself stand and walk around the fire, his expression gently inquisitive as she stands over him. "Let me..." Her knees bend as she leans down, he opens his mouth as her lips come closer. A little sound comes from within him as she takes his lip between hers, her tongue licking away the sticky sweet fluff....*
"Scully?"
She jerked back to herself, half-expecting to see that she'd acted on that insane impulse. How long had she been staring *this* time? "Yeah?"
He held up the bag. "Want another?" His smile was gently inquisitive, and she nearly lost herself again at the familiar expression. *Oh yes, I'd love another sir...could you do that thing with your tongue again?*
She had to get away from this. She stood up, dusting off her pants. "Um, no....actually I have to use the, ah...the little girl's tree." She had made it to the edge of the trees before he could say anything more.
She regretted it as soon as she was away from the fire. The breeze from the lake cut through her as she huddled against a tree. She was so cold....and, ironically enough, she *did* have to use the bathroom. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She would take care of business and head right to bed, where just a thin sheet of nylon separated her from her sleeping--
*I know, former boss*
She tugged at the elastic waistband of the sweatpants, praying that she wasn't crouching in poison ivy.
**********
Skinner stared at the ceiling of the tent, his hands laced behind his head as he listened to the night sounds around him. As he stared at the unchanging nylon, he tried to go through in his mind what exactly had gone wrong tonight.
He'd been having a perfectly lovely evening with Scully, a night in the wilderness with no pressures, no boundaries, nobody to approve or disapprove. He'd felt relaxed enough to kid with her, especially after that little stunt at the lake, and in return she'd opened up a bit to him. He stifled a chuckle as he pictured her as a little girl, flinging her brother's underwear into a tree, and locked that image up to remember later. Next to her smile and her laugh, both of them as rare and precious to him as diamonds. There was so much about her that he didn't know, things he wanted to know, to share....he headed that train of thought off at the pass.
They'd toasted marshmallows together, something he never dreamed--
--Well okay, maybe he'd dreamed it, but he certainly hadn't predicted it. He remembered packing the marshmallows as an afterthought, a snack and a hope. And it had been delicious, both the snack and the warmth he felt when she shared it with him. They'd laughed, they'd joked, then....
Then he'd looked up from his marshmallow and saw her watching him, a new light in her eyes, a hunger that had nothing to do with food. A hunger that he *never* expected to see directed his way....and it shocked the hell out of him.
He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes with a silent groan, remembering how his body had responded to that look in her eyes, the way her tongue had run over her lips just for a second. Of course he'd responded that way...what red-blooded man *wouldn't* suddenly find his jeans too tight when someone like her looked at him that way? She couldn't have known what that look had done to him, she couldn't have meant it.
But if she did....
No. He was her boss.
*Former boss, Walt. Former boss.*
She was his subordinate, he dared his id to contradict. He didn't dare consider it, not even for a moment. It must be the air, the isolation that was making him act this way, some primal urge to act like a stag in rut. He'd never been this out-of-control at the office, save for once...
He'd walked into the meeting late to see her standing, staring defiantly at the men who conspired to shut them down, to kill her partner, to kill her slowly. He'd seen the look in her eyes when he came in, heard her strong, clear voice saying that she held the proof in her hands that could blow it wide open.
Then he'd seen it, the splash of red on her nose, her lips....her eyes rolling back in her head, and he'd rushed forward and caught her as she fell, his heart already aching for her as he called for someone to get a doctor. He'd tried so hard not to stroke her face as she looked up at him...
A sharp choking sound interrupted his thoughts, and he sat up abruptly, his heart pounding as he called softly, "Scully?"
There was no response, but her coughing grew worse, and he heard the nylon of the sleeping bag writhing against the tent floor.
He was out of his sleeping bag and had unzipped both partitions before he took his next breath, grabbing the battery-powered lantern from the center compartment. "Scully?" He thumbed the button on as he crouched beside her.
The coughing had stopped, but she was shaking, her whole body convulsing, curled in on itself as her teeth chattered. The light of the lantern made a fun-house of shadows in the tent as he unzipped the sleeping bag.
Her eyes were wide and unseeing as she shivered, and he blanched as he recognized that glassy gaze from another time, another life. In a military hospital, watching a soldier crouched behind a bed, stammering in broken Vietnamese to please let him out. His eyes had had that same unseeing look that stared back at him now, and for just a moment he wanted to kill whatever had done this to her.
He touched her face; her skin was like ice. "Scully?"
"C-cold." Her voice sounded foreign, flat, but the plea was unmistakable. He unzipped the sleeping bag further and lay down beside her, pulling her body against him as he grasped her hands.
She was so cold, so small against him, and as he felt her damp hair under his chin he wondered what her eyes were seeing. "Easy Scully, you're okay..." He whispered against her hair as he rubbed her hands between his. He pulled the sleeping bag around both of them and curled his body around her. "You're all right, it's okay." He hugged her to him, desperately trying to will the heat from his body to hers.
Slowly, so slowly, her shaking lessened as he rocked her. The chattering teeth stilled as he rubbed her hands in his, and soon the only sound in the tent was their breathing as her eyes fluttered closed. He held her to him a moment longer, feeling his heartbeat slow in his chest as she warmed against him. Her lips moved as she drifted into true sleep, and as he leaned closer to catch it, her breath puffed against his cheek.
"...had you big time..."
He frowned, puzzled at the words, but as her breathing evened out and she snuggled against him he suddenly had a lot more to think about. He looked down at her, wanting so badly to fall asleep like this, to wake up holding her. The temptation was so strong.....no. He couldn't. He shouldn't. But he wanted to...
He eased his body away from her, zipping her sleeping bag up slowly so as not to wake her. He rose to a crouch, looking down at her now-peaceful form, and as he watched her she let out a soft snore. He smiled as he backed out of her compartment, zipping the door closed and thumbing the lantern off. He'd done the right thing.
So why, as he slid into his own sleeping bag, did he feel he made the biggest mistake of his life?
**********
She was cold. So cold. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe as she heard breaking glass a long way away.
Then she choked as *something* was pulled from her throat, her lungs.
*breathe!*
She coughed convulsively, expelling a thick ichor from her lungs. Hands supporting her as she fell forward. She heard herself say the only word she knew. "Cold..."
She opened her eyes to see Mulder...
But it was Skinner, holding her to him, rubbing her hands in his. "Easy Scully, you're okay..."
She was struggling to breathe and she was so cold, and Mulder--
--but it was Skinner, his body warming hers, his mouth breathing life into her. "You're all right, it's okay."
Her lips moved, and Mulder/Skinner leaned down to hear her. "..had you big time...."
And she woke up.
Birds trilled above her, she heard the soft lap, lap, lap of the nearby lake, felt the fuzzy liner of the sleeping bag against her cheek. She opened her eyes slowly, saw the blue walls and floor of the tent, remembered where she was. The woods. Training seminar. Marshmallows....Skinner.
She rubbed her tired eyes with a yawn, trying to recall the fleeting remnants of the dream, but they refused to return. She remembered the emotions; fear, panic...then comfort, warmth...and Skinner. *Odd* she thought, then, when further contemplation only brought to mind the need to use the bathroom, she took a deep breath and sat up.
She glanced blearily at her compartment as she struggled out of her sleeping bag, then frowned, puzzled. She wasn't usually a restless sleeper, yet somehow she'd managed to twist the sleeping bag halfway around so that the zipper was on top instead of to one side. She shook her head as she slipped her bare feet into her boots, tugging the cuffs of her sweatpants from her knees to her ankles. She tucked her hands into her sleeves as she unzipped the tent, and stepped out into the chilly morning.
She squinted at the lake; the rising sun sparkling on it, the water a thousand jewels glittering mirror?bright, dotted here and here with ducks...it was beautiful, peaceful. She looked to the campsite, heat rising on her cheeks as she remembered last night, marshmallows and her wandering mind. What *had* she been thinking last night? She had been perilously close to...
*To what? To take a chance that has nothing to do with Mulder's quest for once? To do something so spontaneous it would knock you -both- for a loop?*
A splashing interrupted her mental derision, and she looked towards the sound at the edge of the lake.
It was Skinner. Shirtless. Washing up.
She watched transfixed as his big hands rubbed up and down his arms, his skin glistening in the morning sun. He reached down and scooped the sparkling water up over his face and head, shaking off with a huff at the chill. She shivered with him, either in sympathy or just at the sight of him in only those tight jeans....He blinked the water out of his eyes and reached for his glasses.
She had grabbed a towel and was halfway to him by the time he hooked the glasses on, and as he stood back up she finally regained the powers of speech. "Here..."
Well, marginally.
He looked down in surprise at the towel, then back to her as he reached for it. "Thanks." His damp hand closed on the towel, and their eyes met. He didn't take the towel, he didn't move; neither did she. The whole forest seemed to be holding its breath.
*Do something!*
No! She tore her gaze away from him, letting go of the towel, and looked once again to the campsite. "I, ah...have some powerbars for breakfast if you want to break camp early."
"Good idea." He sounded as breathless as she felt, and she almost turned back to him to see if he had the same look in his eye as before....no. She was going to take down the tent, help him bank the fire, they would go on their merry way, and she would get these dangerous thoughts out of her head.
*But what if those thoughts are in his head too?*
*If I have to tell you one more time to shut--*
"Scully?" The tentative, almost reluctant tone of his voice made her turn around.
His gaze was just as tentative, and his hands twisted the towel over itself. "How did you sleep?"
The words seemed to tumble over each other, rushing to get out of his mouth, and she felt her eyebrows draw together in puzzlement. His concern made her nervous....and curious. What could have prompted his question?
*Biting cold, his soothing voice...curled against his warmth.*
Oh lord....the heat rose in her face. She opened her mouth to give her not-answer of "fine", but nothing came out. If she'd, if he'd--oh lord...
With an almost audible "click", the shutters closed in his eyes, his gaze and posture returned to neutral. His jaw twitched as he shook his head. "Nevermind...nevermind. Let's get started with breaking camp."
He brushed by her as she stood mute, while mentally she was kicking herself for bringing back The Boss. That was her name for it; that look and attitude, it oozed "official". The Boss didn't smile, didn't laugh, and certainly didn't toast marshmallows with co-workers. And now she would do anything to get the other Skinner back.
*That's easy...all you have to do is thank him for whatever he did last night. But that would mean admitting _you're_ vulnerable too, wouldn't it?*
Her lip curled into a delicate snarl at the mental jeer, and turned to help him break camp. The tent seemed to sense her turbulent mood and didn't give her a bit of trouble as she and Skinner worked in silence. She couldn't say anything, not after she'd met his careful overture with nothing. He was her--
*Former boss*
*He is my superior!* She didn't dare consider it. But she wanted to....
Enough. They glanced around at the campsite, looking at anyone but each other. He gave a curt nod, and she took out the compass and map. She took the lead without asking, and as they set off through the trees she tried to put that tentative, vulnerable gaze out of her mind.
*****
The bump on Skinner's head throbbed steadily as they hiked through the morning; he gritted his teeth and endured. The pain was fitting, roughly the same pain he'd be feeling if he was doing what he wanted to be doing, which was banging his head against a wall. His own words kept nagging at him, prodding him with derision as he followed Scully down the path.
*How did you sleep? How did you SLEEP? HOW did you SLEEP? What the HELL was I thinking?* He wished he had something in his hands; he wanted to break something, and silently thanked the powers that be for Scully taking the lead. The compass would have been history. He settled for stepping on every branch he could find, taking small comfort in the wooden *snaps!* that punctuated their progress.
They reached the first checkpoint ahead of schedule, and their canteen break was thick with a tension he could feel. The humidity made his clothes cling to him, only serving to increase the cloying feelings battling inside him. He grimaced at the tepid water, trying to remember when it had been ice cold and refreshing this morning. It seemed an eternity ago.
He shouldn't have said anything. How could he have thought she'd open up to him just like that?
*You didn't know how different it would be in the morning.*
This was very true. Last night had been firelight and shadows, glimpses of insight into each other that they never would have seen before. Even later it was blackness and taste, the raw fear of Scully's mysterious flashback, the ice of her skin, the warmth of his body against hers, bleeding into her. The feel of her hair against his cheek...the flutter of her lips a moment later...
He rose quickly as the memory of last night manifested itself more than a little visibly. He turned away from her as he felt the flush creep up his neck, gazing at the trees that surrounded them. The last thing he wanted her to see was him blushing like a high school senior and trying to hide a hard-on. This wasn't last evening's shadows, or last night's blackness. This was daylight, where everything was revealed in the sun's glare, consequences, doubts.....fears.
It was the last that chased around his mind the most, and the fastest. Jokes and marshmallows aside, did he honestly think she would look twice at him when there was a whole world of men out there that would throw themselves at her feet?
*But she did look twice, Walt.*
He shook his head. *That was different. That was last night.*
*You think that kind of look cares what time it is?*
He jammed the cap back on his canteen. *If that was true, she would have said something this morning, and I wouldn't be ready to bump my head again just to shut you up.* He'd had enough.
He turned to Scully and saw that she was watching him, her expression thoughtful, quizzical--and something more. What was it...? Before he could grasp it, she blinked as she caught him watching her watching him.
Silence. Even the birds were quiet. The tension cranked up a notch, and he almost drowned in it, the uncertainty, the fear...He reached for the map, his lifeline on the moment, forcing the words from his mouth. "I can take the lead for a while. My head's not hurting as much anymore."
At his words, things seemed to rush back in. The forest sounds, the stifling humidity, all of it came crashing back as if the past few minutes had existed in a sort of flux, a time to figure out where he was, what he wanted to do.
He realized with a pang that he felt lost; there was no map, no compass to follow on *this* trail. It frightened him, not knowing how to proceed, what to expect. Yet somehow it exhilarated him. He was reminded for a moment of a roller-coaster. Not the speed and the loops and the shouts...that first rise, the clackety-clack as the train trundles towards the top, the feeling at the small of his back where if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs. Terrifying and thrilling.
She handed him the map, unaware of the flux, the feelings that hovered in his stomach. "Whenever you're ready." Her tone was neutral, flat, and he nearly winced away from it. He didn't want it to be this way, not after last night. Still, he thought, what could he really say without telling her why he was acting like an ass? *I'm sorry if I seem a bit awkward this morning, Scully. I've been too busy thinking about how wonderful you felt against me last night.*
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his compass, again glad that it hadn't been in his hands earlier. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Scully rise, hefting the pack onto her shoulders, and then they were off.
*****
Scully wiped the sweat from her brow, trying to ignore the burning pain in her calves as she tried to keep up with Skinner. He'd set a grueling pace since their tension-laden break, and she was too out of breath to do more than keep pace with her longer-legged boss. Since she had neither the breath nor the inclination to talk, her thoughts returned to the familiar route of self-criticism.
She should have said something this morning. They were so alike, she should have *known* how hard that was for him to open up, even that little bit. Why hadn't she said anything? She smiled wryly to herself because she knew that the fact they were so alike was why she *hadn't* said anything. It was too easy for both of them to erect emotional walls, while it took quite a bit more to let any of the existing ones down.
*Neither of you seemed to have a problem last night.*
*It was different last night* she told herself primly.
Maybe it was their connection with the military, the transience of all it embodied that kept them both at a distance from the world. She had grown up a Navy brat, her family never staying in one place long enough to settle in. She had never tried hard to make many friends because she didn't know when her father would get another transfer and she would move on again. Skinner's experiences in combat had likely kept him from making friends because he wasn't sure if they would all be alive the next day.
*I repeat, what about last night?*
*Same issue, new setting.* Last night had been the equivalent of one of her slumber parties when she was younger, or one of his nights on leave, a chance for some brief intimacy, a little bit of feeling close to someone before the sun rose and things moved on.
At least it should have been the same.
Something had happened last night, something that had to do with the panic-then-warmth of her nightmare, and it had made Skinner want to address it the next day where ordinarily the feelings should have faded with the sunrise. She wished she knew what it was--no, that wasn't it. She had a strong suspicion what it was, she just wish that it hadn't happened now, when they were alone. No OPD to shake heads and cluck disapproving tongues. No Mulder to keep her mind active and away from these dangerous thoughts she was having about her boss. No doubt in her mind as to how the sleeping bag had gotten turned around last night, and the little flutter that went through her at the thought of waking up with his arms around her.
*Oh come on! How long can you go on repressing this? Until another Ed Jerse sweeps you off your feet?*
God, what a nightmare that had been. To throw herself at someone even more screwed up than Mulder, even more unreachable than Skinner. Punishing herself, showing herself the bad side of pursuing either of the men in her life by courting the extreme. Telling herself, "See? Desire is dangerous, look what happened this time."
But now things were different. She'd been given her life back by powers unknown, be they the Cancerman or the Almighty. She had a second chance to do what she should have done before, and giving in to desire was certainly something she hadn't done in the past six years. But...
*But what? He's one of two men who would understand what you do at work, how it affects you.*
But...
*And unlike one of them, his heart and soul isn't already in hock to his own personal quests.*
But...
*And if you even start to think that you don't know how he feels about you, then you're going to blow your second chance at finding out.*
She glanced ahead at him, his backpack bobbing as they practically charged through the woods towards their next checkpoint. She glanced at her watch and frowned as she saw that it was barely five o'clock. How could it be getting dark so soon if it was only five?
The answer came in the form of a gust of wind that nearly knocked her over, and a flash of lightning that blinded her. She heard a shouted obscenity just before the crash of thunder shook the trees around them. She ran up to him as he desperately scanned the map, and as he met her gaze the look in his eyes told her that he hadn't noticed the storm blowing up either.
"We have to get out of these trees!" He shouted as the wind continued to build, and the *CRACK* of timber nearby made them both jump. "This way!"
Fear and adrenaline gave her a second wind as she ran after him, trusting that he was heading to a clearing, preferably on high ground to avoid the impending flood. Branches whipped in her face, and she fended them off with her hands as they charged uphill. Please, let us make it somewhere where we can find cover before it starts to...
The first fat drops hit her backpack before she could finish the thought, and she barely had time to swear before the sky opened up and released a torrent of pounding rain. Within seconds, both of them were drenched to the skin, and as the trail slowly disappeared under the rain they were both slipping and sliding, struggling towards safety.
They broke through the trees and into a clearing as the wind howled about them, and as she wiped the water from her eyes Skinner grabbed her by the arms, spinning her around and nearly sending her to the ground. "The wind shield will do for us until this dies down!" She felt him tugging at her pack and silently willed him to *hurry*...
A loud CRASH of both thunder and timber made them both jump, and Scully looked back to see one of the larger trees topple over in a shower of sparks and splinters, right along the path they'd just slogged through to get here. "Jesus..."
"Get under!" The plastic tarp was flung around her. "Grab hold!" The rain roared against the plastic as she crouched underneath it and as she blinked the water from her eyes she felt his arm curl around her, pulling her close. She could barely hear their breathing as they huddled under the tarp, and now that she could think again she wondered if he was feeling as small as she was in the shadow of nature's fury. Neither of them spoke as they waited out the storm.
As strong as the storm had hit, however, it couldn't maintain its power for long. Within a few minutes, the wind and rain had slackened, and by the time Scully could count to five-one-thousand between lightning and thunder, she'd loosened her panicked grip on the tarp. The rain remained, a steady silvery curtain that shimmered before them, but the danger of the storm seemed to have passed. It was only as she started to breathe easier that she actually felt the warm bulk of Skinner pressed against her arm and side. She looked over at him, and saw that his eyes mirrored the silent "Wow," that she was sure was in hers.
"We should--"
"Get the tent up." Skinner looked at the rain, shaking his head. "I don't think this is going to stop anytime soon, and if we hike in wet shoes we won't be able to walk tomorrow."
They stood up, still a bit reluctant to leave the relative shelter of the tarp. Some warmth had gathered between them, and the thought of stepping out into the cold rain made her shiver for another reason. With a deep breath, she stepped out and looked around, heard Skinner do the same.
Aside from the rain and the one downed tree, she thought, the area didn't look any worse for wear. The ground wasn't too muddy, but she thanked God that the sleeping bags were water resistant, as was the tent floor. As she surveyed the damage, Skinner pointed to a stand of trees.
"We can tie the tarp above the tent over there to keep the rain off while we set up. Should keep the walls dry once we're in." She looked down at herself, then at him, their clothes plastered to their bodies from the rain, and echoed her chuckle. "We'll try to get us dry too. Did you bring any wool clothing with you?"
She nodded, thanking her father for the reflex that made her pack them. "Yeah, one sweater and two pairs of socks. You?"
"Same here, and it looks like we'll need them." He put his hands on his hips and looked around. "If the rain doesn't let up we'll have to cold camp. No way we're going to find wood that will burn after this storm."
Cold camp. Cold. "Let's get the tent up." She felt a residual pulse of adrenaline fuel her words as she shed her pack, grabbing the rest of the tent stuff with an urgency that both puzzled and scared her.
The tent was assembled quicker with both of them working on it, and with the makeshift tarp-roof they were able to unpack their clothes and sleeping bags with minimal water damage. She saw the plastic bag of marshmallows just before he tossed it into the tent; she felt her lips curl into a smile at the memories that rose at the sight of it. The warmth of the fire, his smile, the memories they shared...
"Scully, are you all right?"
She wanted the warmth back, so badly...
"Scully!"
She dragged her head up to look at him, saw his urgent eyes. She wanted to tell him it was all right but her teeth were chattering so bad she couldn't get the words out. She was so cold...
"Get in the tent, now!"
Strong hands pushed her inside. The rain pattered above the blue walls and ceiling, but so softly she wasn't even sure if it was rain. Sounds seemed so far away that his voice sounded like a muffled growling. Pop-op-op-op went her shirt buttons, the sopping flannel shoved off her shoulders. What...was he stripping her?
Heat. His hands were so warm, trailing warmth across her body as he pushed her shoulders, sat her down, moving to tug at her boots and socks. "Get these off...c'mon!" Two quick yanks, her feet bared. She watched, wanting to help him, knowing what he was doing, but she couldn't feel anything but the cold.
His hands were at her waist now, struggling with her jeans, peeling them down and off. She huddled inside her head as his hands disappeared. She was so cold, she couldn't move, could barely breathe....he pulled her down into the other compartment. Soft fleecy material surrounded her, then the hard heat of his body as he slid in behind her. "C'mon, Scully, c'mon back....you're all right."
Cold, cold...warmth. His hands over hers, rubbing frantically, warming her. She felt life returning to numbed limbs, flexed them slowly. Fingers, toes, jaw...she blinked, coming back to herself, feeling his warmth giving her strength back.
*given your life back by the powers that be*
Finally able to take a deep breath, his hands slowing down, now gently chafing against her skin.
"You're all right..."
*never get another second chance*
She shifted in his arms, and as she turned she felt his arousal, pressing urgently into her thigh.
*how he feels about you*
"Scully?" One word asking so many things, his whole body tense as he knew she had felt him.
"Yes…." She reached up and pulled his mouth to hers, and she was kissing him before she could come back fully, too far back for her to dare it.