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 will continue to not like him for killing off our beloved Krycek, and allowing the show to jump the shark.
Sloan Bishop, Alice and Brian Jackson, and Jeff (I still don't have a last name for him yet ... hey if anyone has a good last name for him, let me know), along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: Sometime during the 5th season.
Sorry it's taken me so long to update, I'm at the end of the school year and massive amounts of finals and stuff like that. I'm planning on doing a lot of writing over this summer, so stay tuned!!!
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
Skinner slunk back away from the chaos that was Sloan's kitchen. The two boys were offering their expertise and grating cheese, even though their help managed more cheese on the counter and the floor than actually in the bowls. Sloan was cooking some ground beef, and Alice was attempting to try and work Sloan's microwave for the beans.
With a glass of strawberry Cool-Aide in his hand, Skinner smiled and turned to explore the living room. For an apartment that had the exact same floor plan as his own, it looked like a completely different home.
It was a complete organized clutter. Unlike his apartment, hers looked lived in. All of her furniture looked expensive, and exotic. Everything from big white leather couches, to classic English tables, to Japanese room dividers, to paintings by the Big Four, mostly da Vinci. Tucked away in every painting's frame were photos.
Skinner glanced to over the photos. Most of the pictures were of Sloan and the boys, but one caught his eye. Sloan was standing in Red Square in Moscow; with a man Skinner assumed was her father. She was young, sixteen or seventeen, and smiling brightly.
"You've been to Russia?" Skinner asked turning his attention back to Sloan, with the photo in his hand.
"Sloan's been everywhere!" Jeff exclaimed, excitedly.
"Russia, Germany, Africa, China, France, Paris," Brian said bringing plates to the table.
"Paris is in France, you geek," Sloan said ruffling Brian's hair. Setting the cups on the table, Sloan looked up at Skinner. She almost looked hurt for a moment, remembering all the places she'd been. But her features quickly changed, and she smiled. "My father took me with him while he was on business."
Skinner put the photo back in the frame. "What did your father do?"
"Um, he was in the art world," Sloan said turning back to the kitchen.
Skinner frowned. Her father didn't look like an artist, perhaps a collector, or a dealer. But he didn't have a chance to ask the specifics. A buzzer went off and the smell of melted cheese filled the air.
"First batch is done," Sloan announced, and everyone filled over to the table.
Skinner sat down next to Jeff, and began dishing up the nachos for everyone.
"Are we forgetting anything?" Sloan asked sitting down next to Skinner.
"Napkins," Alice said.
"Oh yeah." Sloan left the table in search for napkins.
Jeff caught Skinner's attention when he elbowed him in the side.
"Pssstt!" Jeff motioned to his hands, which were sitting on either side of his plate with his thumbs up. Skinner frowned, but Brian encouraged him by nodding, holding his thumbs up as well.
Deciding not to question it, he did as the two boys instructed, and rested his hands on the table with his thumbs up. Alice smirked at the boys, but did it as well.
"Found the napkins," Sloan said and skipped back to the table. "Ooo," she said stealing a chip off of her plate. Silence set in as everyone waited for Sloan to notice their thumbs up. "Aw. That's not fair," she said sighing, and the boys burst out laughing. "You caught me off guard with the napkins." Rolling her eyes, she bowed her head and intertwined her fingers together. The others did the same.
Skinner finally realized what they were doing. The last person to hold up their thumbs had to pray. Despite the fact that he hadn't prayed since he was young boy, he bowed his head and folded his hands.
"Dear Lord, thank you for this time we have together, with old friends," Sloan opened her eyes and caught Skinner's gaze, "and new friends. Please bless this food for the nourishment of our bodies. In Jesus name, amen."
"Amen," Alice, Jeff, and Brian said in tandem. They all opened their eyes and began eating.
"So," Brian said to Skinner, slopping sour cream on his nachos. "Is it true? Do you really work for the FBI?"
Skinner nodded.
"Wow," Jeff said with a mouth full of chips. "Have you ever killed anyone?"
"Jeff!" Alice chastised.
His head fell. "Sorry."
"So what do you do at the FBI?" Alice asked, saving Jeff from further embarrassment.
"I'm an Assistant Director."
"What does an Assistant Director do?"
Skinner smiled. "A lot of paperwork."
"And you're on vacation?" Sloan asked.
"A sort of forced vacation," Skinner explained. "For two weeks."
The rest of the dinner was highly entertaining for Skinner. The way Alice and Sloan interacted with the boys was like nothing he had ever experienced before. They joked and made fun of one another, and he could tell they really cared for one another. Skinner felt happier just being around them.
Alice finally called it a night after the boys resorted to attacking each other with spit wads. So Sloan and Skinner were left alone.
"Coffee? Hot cocoa?" Sloan asked from the kitchen.
Skinner, who was sitting on one of the plush couches, looked up. "Coffee would be wonderful. Black."
Sloan joined him a few moments later with two steaming cups. She handed him one of the cups and smiled.
"Thank you," Skinner said taking a sip of the hot drink. He looked to the other end of the couch and noticed colorful little puffs in Sloan's cup. "Marshmallows in coffee?" he questioned.
She smiled, pulling her legs up on the couch, crossing them. "Hot chocolate. I don't like the taste of coffee. Love the smell, just not the taste." She paused, and her eyes suddenly lit up. "But if I had to kiss you later, I wouldn't mind."
Skinner was absolutely shocked. He didn't know what to say, but luckily he didn't have to say anything.
Putting her cup carefully on the coffee table, she spoke as if she didn't say her last comment. "Why were you forced to take a vacation?"
Skinner frowned, but answered her non-the-less. "Two of my agents got into some trouble. They are facing a trial. And until their trial is over, I'm on vacation."
"What did they do?"
"I'm not sure," Skinner said speaking into his coffee. He took another sip.
"Aren't you going to try to find out what happened? And help them?"
Skinner could feel himself slipping back into his shell. "No," he growled. "They got themselves into this mess. They can get themselves out, without my help."
"But-"
"They have been nothing but a nuisance since I was assigned to them."
"They say attitude reflects leadership," Sloan stated matter-of-factly.
Skinner stood. He didn't need this. Didn't need a young girl telling him how run his life.
"Thank you for the dinner," he said, trying to be polite. "But I think I'll call it a night."
Sloan stood, hoping to stop him. "Mr. Skinner, please. I'm sorry." Skinner handed Sloan his coffee and turned away from her. "Skinner?"
But he was already at the door. "Goodnight," he said sharply, and left her apartment.
Sloan sighed. That didn't end the way she had wanted, at all.
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 will continue to not like him for killing off our beloved Krycek, and allowing the show to jump the shark.
Sloan Bishop, Alice and Brian Jackson, and Jeff (I still don't have a last name for him yet ... hey if anyone has a good last name for him, let me know), along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: Sometime during the 5th season.
Sorry it's taken me so long to update, I'm at the end of the school year and massive amounts of finals and stuff like that. I'm planning on doing a lot of writing over this summer, so stay tuned!!!
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
Skinner slunk back away from the chaos that was Sloan's kitchen. The two boys were offering their expertise and grating cheese, even though their help managed more cheese on the counter and the floor than actually in the bowls. Sloan was cooking some ground beef, and Alice was attempting to try and work Sloan's microwave for the beans.
With a glass of strawberry Cool-Aide in his hand, Skinner smiled and turned to explore the living room. For an apartment that had the exact same floor plan as his own, it looked like a completely different home.
It was a complete organized clutter. Unlike his apartment, hers looked lived in. All of her furniture looked expensive, and exotic. Everything from big white leather couches, to classic English tables, to Japanese room dividers, to paintings by the Big Four, mostly da Vinci. Tucked away in every painting's frame were photos.
Skinner glanced to over the photos. Most of the pictures were of Sloan and the boys, but one caught his eye. Sloan was standing in Red Square in Moscow; with a man Skinner assumed was her father. She was young, sixteen or seventeen, and smiling brightly.
"You've been to Russia?" Skinner asked turning his attention back to Sloan, with the photo in his hand.
"Sloan's been everywhere!" Jeff exclaimed, excitedly.
"Russia, Germany, Africa, China, France, Paris," Brian said bringing plates to the table.
"Paris is in France, you geek," Sloan said ruffling Brian's hair. Setting the cups on the table, Sloan looked up at Skinner. She almost looked hurt for a moment, remembering all the places she'd been. But her features quickly changed, and she smiled. "My father took me with him while he was on business."
Skinner put the photo back in the frame. "What did your father do?"
"Um, he was in the art world," Sloan said turning back to the kitchen.
Skinner frowned. Her father didn't look like an artist, perhaps a collector, or a dealer. But he didn't have a chance to ask the specifics. A buzzer went off and the smell of melted cheese filled the air.
"First batch is done," Sloan announced, and everyone filled over to the table.
Skinner sat down next to Jeff, and began dishing up the nachos for everyone.
"Are we forgetting anything?" Sloan asked sitting down next to Skinner.
"Napkins," Alice said.
"Oh yeah." Sloan left the table in search for napkins.
Jeff caught Skinner's attention when he elbowed him in the side.
"Pssstt!" Jeff motioned to his hands, which were sitting on either side of his plate with his thumbs up. Skinner frowned, but Brian encouraged him by nodding, holding his thumbs up as well.
Deciding not to question it, he did as the two boys instructed, and rested his hands on the table with his thumbs up. Alice smirked at the boys, but did it as well.
"Found the napkins," Sloan said and skipped back to the table. "Ooo," she said stealing a chip off of her plate. Silence set in as everyone waited for Sloan to notice their thumbs up. "Aw. That's not fair," she said sighing, and the boys burst out laughing. "You caught me off guard with the napkins." Rolling her eyes, she bowed her head and intertwined her fingers together. The others did the same.
Skinner finally realized what they were doing. The last person to hold up their thumbs had to pray. Despite the fact that he hadn't prayed since he was young boy, he bowed his head and folded his hands.
"Dear Lord, thank you for this time we have together, with old friends," Sloan opened her eyes and caught Skinner's gaze, "and new friends. Please bless this food for the nourishment of our bodies. In Jesus name, amen."
"Amen," Alice, Jeff, and Brian said in tandem. They all opened their eyes and began eating.
"So," Brian said to Skinner, slopping sour cream on his nachos. "Is it true? Do you really work for the FBI?"
Skinner nodded.
"Wow," Jeff said with a mouth full of chips. "Have you ever killed anyone?"
"Jeff!" Alice chastised.
His head fell. "Sorry."
"So what do you do at the FBI?" Alice asked, saving Jeff from further embarrassment.
"I'm an Assistant Director."
"What does an Assistant Director do?"
Skinner smiled. "A lot of paperwork."
"And you're on vacation?" Sloan asked.
"A sort of forced vacation," Skinner explained. "For two weeks."
The rest of the dinner was highly entertaining for Skinner. The way Alice and Sloan interacted with the boys was like nothing he had ever experienced before. They joked and made fun of one another, and he could tell they really cared for one another. Skinner felt happier just being around them.
Alice finally called it a night after the boys resorted to attacking each other with spit wads. So Sloan and Skinner were left alone.
"Coffee? Hot cocoa?" Sloan asked from the kitchen.
Skinner, who was sitting on one of the plush couches, looked up. "Coffee would be wonderful. Black."
Sloan joined him a few moments later with two steaming cups. She handed him one of the cups and smiled.
"Thank you," Skinner said taking a sip of the hot drink. He looked to the other end of the couch and noticed colorful little puffs in Sloan's cup. "Marshmallows in coffee?" he questioned.
She smiled, pulling her legs up on the couch, crossing them. "Hot chocolate. I don't like the taste of coffee. Love the smell, just not the taste." She paused, and her eyes suddenly lit up. "But if I had to kiss you later, I wouldn't mind."
Skinner was absolutely shocked. He didn't know what to say, but luckily he didn't have to say anything.
Putting her cup carefully on the coffee table, she spoke as if she didn't say her last comment. "Why were you forced to take a vacation?"
Skinner frowned, but answered her non-the-less. "Two of my agents got into some trouble. They are facing a trial. And until their trial is over, I'm on vacation."
"What did they do?"
"I'm not sure," Skinner said speaking into his coffee. He took another sip.
"Aren't you going to try to find out what happened? And help them?"
Skinner could feel himself slipping back into his shell. "No," he growled. "They got themselves into this mess. They can get themselves out, without my help."
"But-"
"They have been nothing but a nuisance since I was assigned to them."
"They say attitude reflects leadership," Sloan stated matter-of-factly.
Skinner stood. He didn't need this. Didn't need a young girl telling him how run his life.
"Thank you for the dinner," he said, trying to be polite. "But I think I'll call it a night."
Sloan stood, hoping to stop him. "Mr. Skinner, please. I'm sorry." Skinner handed Sloan his coffee and turned away from her. "Skinner?"
But he was already at the door. "Goodnight," he said sharply, and left her apartment.
Sloan sighed. That didn't end the way she had wanted, at all.
