This story is rated PG for right now. It might change later depending on
where exactly I go with this story.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Skinner, Mulder or Scully. They are owned by 1013 Productions and Fox. X-Files and all related characters were created by Chris Carter, and we still do not like him for killing off our beloved Krycek.
Sloan Bishop, Alice and Brian Jackson, and Jeff (I don't have a last name for him yet), along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: Sometime during the 5th season.
NEWS FLASH!!! I HAVE DIRECTION!!! Hehehehehehe. I have finally figured out where I'm going with this story, so it won't be another plot-less fic of mine, yey! But I'm not going to tell you, cause that would ruin it. So I guess you'll just have to wait, and read the whole thing.
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
Finally shutting off the television, Skinner eyed the desk that sat against the far wall of his living room. It was only one in the afternoon, the first day of his 'vacation' and he was already thinking about breaking the promise he had made to himself. The promise of not working, of actually taking a vacation, whether or not it was forced.
Making his way across the room, he grabbed the brown paper bag that still had a half a cinnamon roll left uneaten. Slowly pulling out the chair to his desk he prayed for self control, a knock on the door, a phone call, or even a natural disaster to stop him. None came.
He sat down and opened one of the many file folders sitting on the oak surface of the desk. He flipped through the pages carefully, sighed, and flipped through them again. The case really wasn't anything of any importance, just something that he had been putting off because he was so busy.
Two hours he worked, milling over pieces of evidence, and attempting to write a report. Pulling his glasses from his face, Skinner rubbed the bridge of his nose. That dull ache that usually resided beneath his scull was beginning to surface. Frowning, he realized this was the first time since the previous night that he was compelled to take some painkillers. Usually the Tylenol pills were taken at least three times by this late in the day.
"That's strange," he spoke aloud. It must have been the lack of stress from the office, he decided. Leaning back in his chair, he pulled another piece of pastry from the bag and popped it in his mouth. The sweet bread almost melted in his mouth.
Or it could be her, he thought with an amused look on his face.
"Sloan Bishop," he spoke aloud, and it accompanied a small smile. He couldn't deny he was attracted to her. In fact, she was the first woman he had allowed himself to pay attention to in a long time. Especially a woman he had only known for a day.
I wonder what she does for a living, he pondered as he leaned back in his chair. He bit down on the end of his pencil.
A knock on his door spurred another small smile. He was beginning to make a habit of that. He climbed from the chair and before opening the door; he dug into the wood of the pencil with his teeth.
He wasn't at all surprised to find his smiling neighbor.
"Sloan," he addressed her with a smile.
She cocked her eyebrow and slung her hands over her hips. "You know, if you were that hungry I would be glad to cook for you."
Skinner quickly pulled the pencil from his mouth and Sloan laughed. After recovering, he allowed himself to really look at her. She wasn't wearing very much make up, if any, and yet she still managed to look beautiful.
A moment later, Skinner realized he hadn't said anything, he was just staring at her. "Did your apartment survive?" he asked, finally.
She shrugged, "More or less."
"What can I do for you?"
Sloan flashed him a grin that made him feel like she was going to get him in trouble. "I just wanted your company."
Skinner frowned. "My company, where?"
"At the park. Alice and I are taking the boys. Thought you might want to join us . unless you're busy with more pressing matters." She eyed his desk.
"Alice?" Skinner questioned.
Sloan leaned against his doorframe. "Brian, the sandy haired kid, about yea tall," she said holding her hand up about four feet from the ground. "His mom."
"Ah. Don't they have school or something?"
"It's summer, in case you haven't noticed."
Frowning, Skinner realized he hadn't noticed. Had he honestly been that wrapped up in work that he had forgotten that it was summer?
Skinner pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I would love to go."
The weather was amazing. It was warm, and yet, the cool breeze managed to leave the hot summer day, comfortable. Sloan was again running barefoot across the grass of the park, chasing the two boys.
Rolling her eyes, Alice found a bench at the edge of the grassy field. Skinner followed her lead and sat down beside her.
"What does she do?" Skinner asked, leaning back on the cool bench.
Alice turned her attention to the man sitting next to her. "You mean for a living?"
Skinner nodded.
"You're looking at it."
Skinner looked up at Sloan. Brian was holding the nerf football to the ground in a punting position. With a quick run, Sloan's bare foot made contact with the ball, but despite her lead in, the kick flopped and the ball landed only fifteen or so feet away from the two. Sloan dropped to the ground, doubling over with laughter.
"She doesn't work?"
"Not unless you consider getting into trouble with two twelve year olds work."
Skinner frowned. "Then how does she-" but his question was cut off.
"Mom?" Brian's voice interrupted Skinner and Alice's conversation. "What time is it?"
"Where's your watch?" Alice asked in a very motherly tone.
"I broke it yesterday, remember? What time is it?" the boy asked again.
Sighing Alice glanced down at her watch. "Almost 5:30, why?"
"I'm hungry."
"Me too," Jeff chimed in.
"Me too mom, when are we gonna eat?" Sloan said, mocking the two boys.
"I'm not feeding any of you tonight. It's Sloan's turn." Alice said pointing to Sloan who was busying sticking out her tongue at the boys.
"Oh yeah," she said remember. Then she turned to the boys. "I've got stuff for nachos."
"Nachos!" the boys exclaimed in tandem.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Skinner, Mulder or Scully. They are owned by 1013 Productions and Fox. X-Files and all related characters were created by Chris Carter, and we still do not like him for killing off our beloved Krycek.
Sloan Bishop, Alice and Brian Jackson, and Jeff (I don't have a last name for him yet), along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: Sometime during the 5th season.
NEWS FLASH!!! I HAVE DIRECTION!!! Hehehehehehe. I have finally figured out where I'm going with this story, so it won't be another plot-less fic of mine, yey! But I'm not going to tell you, cause that would ruin it. So I guess you'll just have to wait, and read the whole thing.
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
Finally shutting off the television, Skinner eyed the desk that sat against the far wall of his living room. It was only one in the afternoon, the first day of his 'vacation' and he was already thinking about breaking the promise he had made to himself. The promise of not working, of actually taking a vacation, whether or not it was forced.
Making his way across the room, he grabbed the brown paper bag that still had a half a cinnamon roll left uneaten. Slowly pulling out the chair to his desk he prayed for self control, a knock on the door, a phone call, or even a natural disaster to stop him. None came.
He sat down and opened one of the many file folders sitting on the oak surface of the desk. He flipped through the pages carefully, sighed, and flipped through them again. The case really wasn't anything of any importance, just something that he had been putting off because he was so busy.
Two hours he worked, milling over pieces of evidence, and attempting to write a report. Pulling his glasses from his face, Skinner rubbed the bridge of his nose. That dull ache that usually resided beneath his scull was beginning to surface. Frowning, he realized this was the first time since the previous night that he was compelled to take some painkillers. Usually the Tylenol pills were taken at least three times by this late in the day.
"That's strange," he spoke aloud. It must have been the lack of stress from the office, he decided. Leaning back in his chair, he pulled another piece of pastry from the bag and popped it in his mouth. The sweet bread almost melted in his mouth.
Or it could be her, he thought with an amused look on his face.
"Sloan Bishop," he spoke aloud, and it accompanied a small smile. He couldn't deny he was attracted to her. In fact, she was the first woman he had allowed himself to pay attention to in a long time. Especially a woman he had only known for a day.
I wonder what she does for a living, he pondered as he leaned back in his chair. He bit down on the end of his pencil.
A knock on his door spurred another small smile. He was beginning to make a habit of that. He climbed from the chair and before opening the door; he dug into the wood of the pencil with his teeth.
He wasn't at all surprised to find his smiling neighbor.
"Sloan," he addressed her with a smile.
She cocked her eyebrow and slung her hands over her hips. "You know, if you were that hungry I would be glad to cook for you."
Skinner quickly pulled the pencil from his mouth and Sloan laughed. After recovering, he allowed himself to really look at her. She wasn't wearing very much make up, if any, and yet she still managed to look beautiful.
A moment later, Skinner realized he hadn't said anything, he was just staring at her. "Did your apartment survive?" he asked, finally.
She shrugged, "More or less."
"What can I do for you?"
Sloan flashed him a grin that made him feel like she was going to get him in trouble. "I just wanted your company."
Skinner frowned. "My company, where?"
"At the park. Alice and I are taking the boys. Thought you might want to join us . unless you're busy with more pressing matters." She eyed his desk.
"Alice?" Skinner questioned.
Sloan leaned against his doorframe. "Brian, the sandy haired kid, about yea tall," she said holding her hand up about four feet from the ground. "His mom."
"Ah. Don't they have school or something?"
"It's summer, in case you haven't noticed."
Frowning, Skinner realized he hadn't noticed. Had he honestly been that wrapped up in work that he had forgotten that it was summer?
Skinner pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I would love to go."
The weather was amazing. It was warm, and yet, the cool breeze managed to leave the hot summer day, comfortable. Sloan was again running barefoot across the grass of the park, chasing the two boys.
Rolling her eyes, Alice found a bench at the edge of the grassy field. Skinner followed her lead and sat down beside her.
"What does she do?" Skinner asked, leaning back on the cool bench.
Alice turned her attention to the man sitting next to her. "You mean for a living?"
Skinner nodded.
"You're looking at it."
Skinner looked up at Sloan. Brian was holding the nerf football to the ground in a punting position. With a quick run, Sloan's bare foot made contact with the ball, but despite her lead in, the kick flopped and the ball landed only fifteen or so feet away from the two. Sloan dropped to the ground, doubling over with laughter.
"She doesn't work?"
"Not unless you consider getting into trouble with two twelve year olds work."
Skinner frowned. "Then how does she-" but his question was cut off.
"Mom?" Brian's voice interrupted Skinner and Alice's conversation. "What time is it?"
"Where's your watch?" Alice asked in a very motherly tone.
"I broke it yesterday, remember? What time is it?" the boy asked again.
Sighing Alice glanced down at her watch. "Almost 5:30, why?"
"I'm hungry."
"Me too," Jeff chimed in.
"Me too mom, when are we gonna eat?" Sloan said, mocking the two boys.
"I'm not feeding any of you tonight. It's Sloan's turn." Alice said pointing to Sloan who was busying sticking out her tongue at the boys.
"Oh yeah," she said remember. Then she turned to the boys. "I've got stuff for nachos."
"Nachos!" the boys exclaimed in tandem.
