Reciprocated Senses - Skinner's Point of View By Annie Rated PG-13 Summary: Skinner watches his two favorite agents dancing. Disclaimer: Not mine at all. Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net

"It's just a dance, Mulder," Scully was griping. "It's not as if I'm asking for your dainty hand in marriage!"

Walter Skinner was distracted from his perfunctory study of the crowded banquet hall. He was uncomfortable in his tuxedo, even though he knew he probably looked presentable enough, and he hated these formal functions. He also hated going stag, but there was no one he had wanted to ask along. No one who wouldn't have already been here anyway. Being an Assistant Director, he was practically obliged to attend. Sitting at the table with Mulder, Scully and three other agents, he had been trying to calculate the earliest feasible time he could leave.

When Scully spoke to Mulder in that frustrated tone of voice, it got Skinner's full attention. Shit, he would have asked her to dance, if he'd only known she wanted to.He almost rose from his seat to offer, but Mulder acquiesced, rising himself, looking as if he was walking the last mile to the electric chair, or something.

Skinner almost understood. The AD didn't think Mulder spent much time dancing, and if he did, it probably wasn't with his partner.

His luscious partner. She was gorgeous tonight - amazing. The green and diamonds she had chosen to wear was eye-catching, for certain. Not that Skinner needed any prompting to look.

Skinner watched them walk onto the floor. His two agents; one to-die-for handsome, the other most eminently desirable. He had noted whimsically the eyes, both male and female, that had been directed at the partners when they had arrived, late, of course.

The song was from that asteroid movie that had been out this summer, and although Skinner didn't normally listen to that particular rock group, he honestly liked the song. He hadn't gone to the theater, though, opting instead for a solitary evening at home with the rental when it was released.

Fox Mulder was holding his partner lightly in his arms, and Walter Skinner felt a scorching flash of jealousy. He was compelled to watch.

The two dancers moved slowly together, and Skinner wondered what Mulder said to her when he looked at her, smiling. She smiled back, and looked him over from head to foot, causing Mulder to smile even more widely. It looked somehow misplaced on his normally pensive face. Scully said something in return then, smiling even more happily herself. Skinner surmised that they were giving each other the appropriate clothing compliments that they had probably bypassed earlier in the evening.

Then Mulder laughed, actually laughed, and pulled her closer.

Skinner felt a flush of heat crawl over him. She probably smelled good, too. He had caught whiffs of her perfume throughout the evening, but he knew that if he was over there, if he was the one dancing, he would be closing his eyes, inhaling her, devouring her. It would have to be enough to set a man's senses reeling.Mulder eyes were closed now, so of course, he had to be basking in the fragrance of her. With no sight, he would be relying on his other senses; hearing, smelling, and touching.

The heat in Skinner's body suddenly consolidated crashingly into his groin. He shifted uncomfortably, and tried to change his train of thought.But Mulder was holding Scully even closer now, his chest was brushing her nipples, and Skinner tried to see if they were hard. He wanted to know if she was aroused by the nearness of her supposedly platonic partner. Skinner abruptly wondered if everyone was wrong. Maybe Dana Scully wasn't the Ice Queen. Maybe Mulder wasn't as sexually deprived as everyone assumed. Maybe they fucked like rabbits at every opportunity.

Well, that wasn't a good thought to have, Walter, he told himself, because now he was even more jealous, probably about something that wasn't even a reality, and now his cock was getting hard, just thinking about it. He tried to force it down, but looking at them was too hard to resist.

Scully nestled her head up into his neck, and Skinner wanted to be there. He wanted to be the one to look into her eyes. He wanted to be the one enjoying her perfume. And he wanted to be the one holding her in his arms and touching her - wanted to feel the front of her brush the front of him.

Mulder brushed his lips across her temple, and she raised her face to him expectantly.

Shit, Mulder was going to kiss her, and Skinner knew with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach that she wanted him to kiss her.Skinner didn't want to let it happen. He had to stop it, and he felt himself rising, couldn't even remember thinking about doing it, but he was on his feet, ignoring the ache of his half-erect cock, and making his way deliberately to where they were.

Mulder kissed her, right on the mouth, and Skinner could almost taste it himself. He wanted to taste it, wanted to feel her tongue with his.Mulder had just whispered something to her when Skinner reached them, his arrival coinciding with the start of another slow song.Skinner put a hand on the small of Scully's back possessively, and smiled at Fox Mulder. Well, almost smiled.

"I'll save you, Agent Mulder!" Skinner offered. "I'll take the next dance!"

Mulder and Scully exchanged a glance, and then she turned her mesmerizing smile on her boss.

"You don't need to fight over me," she laughed. "You can both have a dance."

Skinner took her in his arms and pulled her close, his senses going on high alert, his look to Mulder dismissing the agent from the dance floor.If this was his dance, Walter Skinner would be making the most of it.

The End