The Danville Series by Cadillac Red Disclaimer: The characters of Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and Walter Skinner belong to 1013 Productions and I and will make no money from their use. Spoilers: None. Setting: Sixth Season Rating: PG. Discipline, no slash. Title: All in the Family Author: Cadillac Red Summary: When Skinner's nephews get in some trouble, Mulder has to decide whether to tell the AD about his prior knowledge of the incident, and take his share of the resulting punishment. Author's note: Yet again, I have Brown-eyed Girl to thank for a perfect title! And thanks also to Dswdiane and Xanthe for beta-reading. You guys catch all the stuff I overlook. Your help is greatly appreciated! All in the Family Walter Skinner stretched the kinks out of his back and exhaled wearily. The thought crossed his mind that he was getting too damn old for this kind of physical labor. But then he remembered he was doing it so his 75-year-old father wouldn't have to, which took the edge off the thought. Except his job was basically sedentary, and although he kept up a regular regimen of weight training and snuck in a little boxing now and then, manual labor was not something he was conditioned for any more. He removed the work gloves he was wearing and plopped down on a chair on the front porch. Mulder, Doug and Mike were still at it and a fleeting wave of guilt ran over him. So he got up and went inside, coming back in a moment with a beer. Throwing his body heavily back into the chair, he took a sip out of the long-neck bottle and smacked his lips. "So much for guilt," he said out loud. In a few minutes, the others completed the last chore of the day and, one by one, they strolled over to the porch and sat in the warm afternoon sun. It was hot for an early Spring day but perfect for the kind of yard work that needed to be done before Rachel and Walter, Sr. could do the planting they did every year at this time. An extensive vegetable garden, and his mother's prize flowers were annual routines that brought the older couple a great deal of pride and pleasure. "Gran'll be happy to see we turned over all the dirt for the vegetable garden, Uncle Walter," Michael sighed contentedly. "He's been growing some of those tomatoes in little boxes in the garage for weeks already!" "If he plants them too early again, Gram'll kill him," Doug laughed. "Last year, when they had a late frost, he spent the night out here with smudge pots and a portable hair dryer, trying to save his tomatoes, remember?" Mulder and Skinner chuckled too. The image of the elder Skinner baby-sitting cold tomatoes was humorous. And his very long, very detailed recounting of the night he held off the forces of Mother Nature had left them both in stitches a year earlier. "What are we having for dinner?" Mulder yawned. "I'm so tired, I might sleep through it completely." "I have a date tonight," Doug offered immediately. "I won't be here for dinner--" "Me neither, Uncle Walter," Mike chimed in. "Some of the guys and I are gonna . . . go to the movies. Or hang at the mall. It's Friday night . . . " Skinner smiled and swallowed the rest of his beer. His parents had gone to Chicago to visit their youngest son, Andy, and his family. His wife, Eileen, was six months pregnant with their third child and Rachel Skinner always clucked over her daughter and daughters-in-law, when they were expecting. His brother Joe and his wife, Nora, and Skinner's sister, Jean, and her husband had gone also. Jean's daughter was in college in Chicago, so this was an opportunity for them to visit her. And Joe and Nora's oldest girl was contemplating joining her cousin at Northwestern. She planned to visit the campus and had an interview scheduled. Joe's youngest daughter had tagged along, so this was a chance for some of the family to spend a few days together in Chicago. The boys had other plans, however. Doug, at 24 and Mike, at 17, were old enough to stay alone for a long weekend but Skinner realized this was a chance to get some of the Spring chores done at the old house, and keep an eye on his nephews. Mulder had been pressed into service (had volunteered, actually) as an additional hand. The boys decided to spend the weekend at their grandparents' house since their uncle and Mulder were staying there. And this afternoon, after Mike returned from baseball practice at the high school, and Doug finished work for the day, they'd spent a couple of hours tilling the soil for the gardens. But it wasn't surprising that the two younger men had other plans for Friday night. They both left to go shower and Mulder waited until they'd gone to speak. "I remember when Friday night meant something to me," Mulder sighed. "It's been a while, but I think I still remember . . . " Skinner chuckled and stretched again. "Well, we can reheat leftovers from last night. Or you can go get a pizza, Mulder." "Can't we have one delivered?" "Welcome to Danville, Mulder," Skinner replied with a smile. "You can go get a pizza or we can eat leftovers. Your choice!" Mulder opted for the pizza and they called ahead to place their order. Skinner gave him directions to a strip mall on the highway where the pizza place was located, and casually mentioned there was a video store next door. Mulder grabbed the keys to Skinner's jeep and headed out with a smile. He hit the video store first and was immediately disappointed at the selection. The A.D.'s voice rang in his head as he surveyed the place. The store apparently survived nicely without an Adult section, much to his surprise. "Welcome to Danville, Mulder," he whispered to himself as he checked out the very large sections labeled 'Action' and 'Comedy.' Picking one of each, he used the Skinner family account and paid for his choices. Checking his watch, he saw he still had five minutes until the pizza was supposed to be ready, so he jogged to the car and dropped them off. Turning back, he noticed Doug and Mike with some other young men near a car parked one aisle over. He strolled over to say hello. "Mulder!" Mike jumped when he saw him. It was clear to the young FBI agent that it was a guilty reaction. The other boys eyed him wide-eyed, and Doug jumped in quickly. "Hi, Mulder," he said brightly. "What are you doing here?" Mulder replied that he was picking up a pizza but his eyes rapidly scanned the evidence. A large white bedsheet and a couple of cans of spray paint. He lifted the one in Mike's hands, it was 'Royal Blue.' Then he took a closer look at the one the red-headed kid was holding. "Goldenrod," he said slowly. "Blue and Gold are your school colors, aren't they, Mike?" He was met with a few seconds of silence, then Mike replied. "Yeah," he said. "You have a good memory." "Comes in handy in my job," Mulder said casually. "What exactly are you guys up to?" The three teenagers and Doug eyed each other, waiting for someone to speak. Finally, Doug decided to do it. "Well, the Millersburg baseball team is playing Harrisburg next week. They're the local powerhouse. Always have been. They beat my team in the State Championships when I was in high school. And they've beat Mike's team every time they played in the past five years." "Uh-huh," Mulder said. "That tells me exactly nothing about what's going on here, Doug." "Well, they think they're gonna beat us again, but we've got a great team this year," Mike interrupted him. "And we thought it'd give the rest of the team an extra boost if we drove into town tomorrow and saw a big "Go Millersburg" banner on the Harrisburg water tower!" Mulder couldn't help smiling. From his own experience playing high school ball, he suspected it would be something the Millersburg team would respond to. And it would be a source of consternation for the Harrisburg team, no doubt about it. "So, I heard what they were planning and I figured I'd go along," Doug said. "First, because I really can't stand the Harrisburg team. And second, to make sure no one gets hurt." Mulder scratched the side of his face and contemplated the situation. "You're not planning to deface any property with the spray paint, are you, guys?" he asked slowly. Mike and Doug looked honestly shocked at the suggestion and protested immediately that they would never do such a thing. Mulder found himself chuckling internally. "Please don't tell Uncle Walter, Mulder," Mike said anxiously. "I don't think he'd understand the way you do." Mulder recognized the kid was flattering him, but he was just as certain Skinner would probably not be amused. "Okay, your secret's safe with me," he answered, cuffing Mike on the side of the face. "Just be careful, guys. Okay?" He waited for them to acknowledge his admonition, then headed off to the pizza place. That pie oughta be ready just about now, he thought. Mulder and Skinner polished off the pizza and watched the first movie and half of the second. Skinner had dozed off in the recliner halfway through "Martial Law," but Mulder was actually enjoying Denzel Washington's portrayal of an FBI agent when the phone rang. Skinner came to full alert immediately and grabbed the portable. "Hello." He listened for a moment. "Yes, this is Walter Skinner," he answered, clearly puzzled. Then he listened for another minute and Mulder could see him growing angrier as the seconds passed. "Yes, of course. I understand. I'll be there in about 45 minutes." He slammed the phone down and reached for his work boots. "I have to go to Harrisburg, Mulder." Mulder was immediately certain what this was about. "Harrisburg?" he asked, not wanting to let on he knew anything about it. "Yeah. It seems my nephews decided to climb the Harrisburg water tower. In the rain! To put some stupid banner up there. A couple of hundred feet up a metal ladder, slick with rain! Thank God the locals found them before someone broke their fool necks!" He finished tying his bootlaces and rose. "I have to go get them at the police station." "I'll go with you, sir," Mulder said, putting his running shoes on and lacing them quickly. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but he wanted to be there to manage whatever came up about his prior knowledge of the ill-fated excursion. Which looked unbelievably foolhardy in retrospect. "No, Mulder," Skinner replied quickly. "No reason for you to have to go out on a night like this just because my nephews haven't got the sense they were born with--" Mulder stood up and started for the door. "They're my family, too, sir. And you're too upset to be driving in this kind of weather." ****************************************************************** Harrisburg State Police Station Saturday morning 12:20 a.m. A grim-faced Walter Skinner waited for his nephews to be brought out from the holding cell. He'd shown the locals his FBI identification, not to garner any favors but to speed the process along. One of the other boy's fathers had arrived earlier and his son came out first. "Are you all right, Jeffrey?" the man asked his son. "They didn't hurt you, or anything did they?" His son shook his head and the man turned to the sergeant at the desk. "You'll be hearing from my lawyer," he said shortly. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard of. A couple of kids do something generations of kids have done and they get arrested? Don't you people have real crimes to worry about?" The sergeant handed him a pen and waited for the man to sign the paperwork without response. As they left, the sergeant waved. "Have a nice day," he said. Skinner had watched the interchange and almost spoke up to the foolish man but now he thought the sergeant had handled it just right. Shaking his head, he heard his name called from behind him. Turning, he saw Sam Cole, the Hopewell Sheriff entering the station house. Cole was Doug's boss. "Sorry you were called out in the middle of the night, Sam," Skinner said, guessing why he was here. "Oh, well, this is hardly the worst thing I've ever had one of my guys do, Walter. I've bailed a deputy or two out of jail at least a couple of times over the years. It's a different than the FBI, a small town job," he said amiably. "I'm sure this doesn't come with your territory, though, huh?" Mulder was sitting on a bench behind Sheriff Cole and he held his breath, expecting the AD to catch his eye any second. Skinner had sprung him from jail at least a couple of times since they'd been working together. But the other man handled the situation with his usual aplomb. "Yeah, I guess it is a little different," he said noncommittally. "It was good of you to come." "Don't worry about it. And I don't plan on staying," he said, catching the attention of the lieutenant on duty and walking over to him. "Hi, Dave! Can I speak to you for a couple of minutes?" Mulder watched Cole from his perch on the bench as the sheriff got the entire low-down from the Harrisburg lieutenant. The charge was trespassing, which would definitely be reduced to a violation, if not dismissed completely. "We were more concerned with their safety than anything else, Sam," Lieutenant Withers said. "Figured this might teach them a good lesson." "I quite agree, Dave," the Sheriff said. "I guess you've met Walter Skinner, over there? He's the uncle of two of your prisoners. And, well, in my experience, the Skinner family is well able to deal with these kinds of problems on their own. And you're not getting anywhere with that other kid I saw leaving. His father was already talking about filing a complaint again you all. What say you drop the charges and just let the families deal with it as they choose? Might be the easiest thing for everyone." The sergeant at the desk was nodding vigorously. "That last guy just didn't get it," he said. "And nothing we do is gonna change that, Lieutenant." Cole nodded too. "Believe me, the Skinner boys' uncle 'gets it.' And they're probably a whole helluva lot more worried about him than anything the law, or I, might have to say." Cole leaned casually on the counter top. "And believe me, I know both of these boys very well. This was nothing but mischief, plain and simple. It would be a shame to have this on either of their records." Mulder was impressed with how easily the two police departments came to a deal. At the federal level, this negotiation would have taken months and input from several agencies. Cole thanked Withers and the sergeant and headed for the front door of the station. "I'm gonna leave this to you, Walter," he said as he passed Skinner. "Tell Doug he's suspended for three days and I'll expect him back at the office on Thursday." As he left, the subject of their exchange, and his cousin Mike, walked sheepishly into the waiting area. They were both handcuffed and Mulder suspected that was an object lesson, more than anything else. They were hardly flight risks. He tried to flag one, or both, of them to warn them that it wouldn't be helpful to let Skinner know that Mulder had known about their plan. But the AD gave them both big hugs and spoke to them quietly, telling them how happy he was that they weren't hurt, after doing something so foolish and dangerous. "What were you thinking?" he asked them as the sergeant removed the handcuffs they were wearing. "I guess we just didn't think at all," Doug said morosely. "I should have stopped them when I heard about it. I just wasn't--" "No! It was my idea!" Mike interjected. "And it was for my team--" "Enough," Skinner said sternly. "There's plenty of blame to go around. And there'll be plenty of punishment to go around, too. Let's go, boys. Now." He led the way out of the station house and the two boys scrambled to follow. Mulder rose and sighed outwardly. It was clear neither of them was going to bust him to the Assistant Director. They were too busy trying to protect each other. Not for the first time, he was impressed by the strange code of honor all the Skinners seemed to live by. It was something deeply ingrained in every one of them. Mulder drove back and the car was a study in silent tension. He put the radio on for a moment, then thought better of it and turned it back off. Beside him, Skinner was a stone-faced picture of contained anger. And in the rear view mirror, he could see both boys were worried. Mike was fighting off tears. And Doug was not far behind him, only he seemed to be bearing a larger burden of guilt for letting his younger cousin get into trouble this way. Mulder recognized the guilt, because it was beginning to rear up inside of him as well. "The lieutenant said they called your coach, Michael," Skinner said, turning to look at Mike over the back seat. "You're suspended from school for three days, so you won't be playing tomorrow." Mike blinked back real tears now, and looked just as guilty as his cousin. He was the team's best hitter, and he'd been slated to pitch tomorrow. Not having him on the field pretty much guaranteed the Millersburg team would lose. He hung his head and nodded. "And, Doug, Sam Cole said you're on unpaid leave until next Thursday," he added, looking at his other nephew meaningfully. "Personally, I think he let you off pretty easy." "Yeah, he's good like that," Doug said quietly. "Lucky thing," Skinner said, turning back to stare out the windshield. "Because you won't get off with me so easy." Mulder watched the two boys blink fearfully in the rear view mirror and he found himself swallowing hard as well. This was getting tougher and more complicated. He silently wrestled with his conscience. What purpose would it serve to tell the AD that he'd known about the prank? Except to make Skinner think he had even less sense than the two younger men in the back seat. And somehow that didn't seem like it would help anything. He turned the jeep into the long Skinner driveway and pulled it to a stop next to the back door. "Wait for me in the family room," Skinner told both boys, who opened the doors and ran from the car as though it were about to explode. Skinner sighed and turned to Mulder. "Thanks for driving, Mulder," he said, glancing at the dashboard clock. It was now after 1:30 in the morning. "You were right. I was probably too angry to be driving these roads in the rain. I really appreciate you coming along." He opened the car door and got out and Mulder rushed to do the same. They entered the kitchen and Skinner took a look into the family room. His nephews were standing there, waiting fearfully. He called into the other room. "Doug! Go get 'the persuader,'" he told the young man. Doug's head snapped up and he glanced anxiously at Mike. Then he high-tailed it out of the back door. "Thanks again, Mulder," Skinner said quietly. "You get some rest. This'll all be over soon. And they'll be okay, you know," He squeezed Mulder's shoulder and propelled him toward the back stairs. "I'll see you in the morning." Mulder nodded and headed upstairs. His legs felt heavy and his head was pounding. He made his way to the study and heard the back door slam just before he closed the door. He stood there, behind the close door, feeling like the biggest phony in the whole damn world. Looking up, he saw his own reflection in the mirror over the dresser. He stared at it a full minute, hating what he saw. Then he opened the door and headed out into the hallway. He rushed down the back steps and through the kitchen, stopping only when he'd gone a few feet into the family room. Skinner had pulled the couch away from the wall and both boys were bare-assed, bent over its back. The AD looked up, startled by the interruption. He had been just about to begin. "What is it, Mulder?" he asked, puzzled. Mulder swallowed convulsively. "Sir. I-- . . . I have something to tell you--" "Now?" "Yes, sir. I, um," he stammered. Doug looked back at him and shook his head silently from behind the AD That was all Mulder needed to see. He took a deep breath and spit it out. "I knew about what they were planning, sir. I knew about the water tower, and the sign--" "What? When did you know?" "I ran into Mike and Doug when I went to get the pizza tonight. I saw the sheet and the spray paint. And they told me what they were planning," he said hurriedly, rushing to get it all out before his courage faltered. "And I didn't do anything to stop them. I didn't even say it was dangerous. Or a lousy idea--" Skinner shook his head and stared at the leather strop in his right hand. Then he picked his head up and glared at Mulder. "Okay. Why don't you join us?" he ground out, jerking a thumb at the space next to Doug. "You know the drill, Mulder." Mulder unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans quickly. Then he pushed them and his shorts down to mid-thigh and bent over the back of the couch as he'd been instructed. "Are you crazy?" Doug whispered. "Yeah, I think I must be," he whispered back as Skinner began to speak behind them. "All right, gentlemen, what's this strapping for?" He laid the first lick down on Mulder's upturned butt, then followed it with another. "For not trying to stop them!" Mulder said. "Oucchhh!" Then Skinner turned his attention to the two younger men, giving them both a lick and waiting for their responses. "For going along with the plan!" "For climbing the water tower!" Skinner worked his way up and down the couch, counting the licks he delivered to each bare bottom in his head. It was traditional in the Skinner family for the punishment for the older ones to be a little more, so he had to make certain Mulder got the worst of it, then Doug, then Mike. In a couple of minutes, all three of them were sobbing and promising that they'd never do anything so stupid again. "What else, Michael Alexei?" he asked, laying another stripe on the 17-year-old's bare backside. "For lying about where I was going tonight!" he yelped as the belt crashed down several more times on his backside. Lying was not something Skinner was willing to overlook, ever. "Owwww! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Skinner turned his attention to Doug's posterior. "And what about you, Douglas Sergei?" He delivered two more licks to the young man's red buttocks. "For-- for getting involved in a stupid high school prank! Ahhhhh! And for lying to you, too!" he sobbed as the leather strop burned additional stripes across his butt. The AD gave him the same additional licks. "And now you, Fox William! What else is this strapping for?" He delivered three more licks to Mulder's already red-striped butt as the younger man rushed to respond. "For not telling you! Unhhhh! As soon as I heard about it," he yelled. "Owwww! I'm sorry, sir! Oucchhh! F-for pretending I didn't know anything when you got the phone call!" In Skinner's mind, that was a lie of omission and he wanted Mulder to know that was unacceptable. He laid another three licks across the young agent's already sizzling backside before stopping. Skinner dropped the leather strop on a chair and sighed deeply. "Okay, we're finished for now. But this was big, gentlemen. There will be a punishment tour -- you all know that!" He reached over and caressed the back of Mike's head and the boy stood up, then turned and buried his head in his uncle's chest. Skinner hugged him for a minute, then helped him adjust his clothes. Next he pulled Doug up from his position on the couch and hugged him as Doug hurriedly pulled his jeans back up. "It's okay, Dougie," Skinner said to him quietly. "I'm guessing you probably haven't been on the receiving end for a while." Doug shook his head and mumbled into his uncle's shoulder. "No, sir," he said. "I just -- I can't believe I did something s--so stupid that you had to--" "Shhhh Growing up doesn't guarantee you'll never do anything stupid again, Doug." Skinner felt him relax into the embrace. "That's why your Grandad continued to make good use of the "persuader" long after we were all adults, believe me." Mulder had risen from the couch on his own and had buttoned and zipped up his jeans. Skinner's eyes fell on him and the AD noticed he was still crying, staring at the floor. He ruffled the back of Doug's hair, then moved on to his most troublesome agent, and newest family member. "And here's my number one example of that theory," Skinner said with a half-smile as he gathered Mulder into a bear hug. He felt Mulder stiffen for a moment, but then his emotions got the better of him and he returned Skinner's hug forcefully. "I'm glad you owned up to it, kid," Skinner said softly. "I'm proud of you." He felt Mulder relax even more into his arms and he knew that all three of these young men needed to get to bed, fast. "All right, gentlemen, I want you all in bed in five minutes," Skinner said, pulling out of the hug and glancing at his watch. "Go!" The three of them nearly fell over each other to get out of the family room and up the back stairs. Skinner watched them go and thought tiredly that he was definitely too old for this. With a sigh, he picked up the razor strop and headed out the back door, to return it to its rightful home. As he walked down to the woodshed in the rain, he found himself recalling a similar event in his own life nearly 30 years earlier. He'd confessed to his father just as Mulder had confessed to him tonight. That act had gotten the younger Walter reacquainted with the business end of 'the persuader,' along with his brothers Joe and Andy that night. It wasn't lost on him that, in a very similar situation, Mulder had chosen the same route. As upset as he was at the actions they'd all taken, he was just as proud of all three young men that they'd owned up to their actions, and taken their punishment. And Skinner was more confident than ever that Mulder had turned an important corner in his relationship with the AD and his family. "You really are one of us now, kid," he chuckled out loud as he trudged wearily back to the house. The AD looked in on Mike before going to bed. The 17-year-old was sleeping in his brother Joe's old bedroom. And from the sound of his breathing, Skinner knew he was fast asleep. He went to Andy's old bedroom, to check on Doug. And found he was also sleeping soundly. Closing the door quietly, Skinner went to the door of the study and opened it a crack. Mulder turned over and looked as a triangle of light lit the room from the hall fixture. Skinner opened the door and went in. "You're still awake, Mulder," he said, surprised. Usually Mulder sank into unconsciousness immediately after punishment. This was unusual. "I was waiting for you to come up, sir," he said, turning onto his back. He winced, then shifted onto his side, with his arm crooked under his head. "It's late," Skinner said. "And you've got a whole lot of yard work waiting for you tomorrow, Mulder. You and Mike and Doug. You should get some rest." "I just wanted to make sure you're not . . . disappointed in me. . . or anything." Mulder was staring at the pattern in the sheets, tracing the squares in the plaid with his finger. Skinner's heart went out to the younger man. He was always so quick to assume the worst, to think that people would cut him off. The AD sat on the edge of the bed and caught his attention. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little angry, Mulder. If you had just stopped to think about it, I'm sure you would have come to a different decision." "I know," Mulder said, biting down on his lower lip. "I was too worried about Mike and Doug thinking I wasn't cool. And hating me, if I tried to stop them--" "Mulder, let me ask you something. Do you hate me because I try to keep you from doing stupid, dangerous things? Because I don't want you to get hurt?" In the dim light from the hall, he watched the younger man's eyes and saw understanding dawn in them. "No, sir." "Then why do you think Mike and Doug would love you any less, because you tried to keep them from getting hurt? I'm not saying they might not resent it at the moment. I think it's safe to say you resent the hell out of me at times--" Mulder laughed and screwed up his face. "Well, I wouldn't go that far, sir," he snorted. "Oh, well, I would," Skinner said, standing and pulling the covers up over the younger man. "And since I'm the one on the receiving end, I think it's my opinion that counts! Now, I'm not saying this again. Go to sleep." He closed the door behind him and headed to bed. ********************************************************************* The Skinner Residence Saturday afternoon 4:57 p.m. Mulder took off the work gloves he'd been wearing all day and saw that, despite them, he'd managed to raise a blister on his left hand. "Damn!" he muttered. Mike looked over from where he was shoveling mulch onto the tilled soil of the gardens and grinned. "Know what my Dad says about that, Mulder?" he asked. "No, what does he say," Mulder responded, knowing some hokey 'Skinnerism' was to follow. "Better on your hands, than on your butt," Mike laughed. Mulder couldn't help laughing. "No offense, Mike," he said. "But you people are all nuts." Doug rolled the wheelbarrow up at that moment and the two others sighed as they looked at the mound of mulch that still needed to be spread throughout the flower beds. As they stood there, Skinner came to the back door and called them. "That's enough for today, guys. Come on in and get washed up!" The three of them sauntered up to the house. It had been a grueling day, beginning with chopping wood first thing in the morning. Followed by weeding, then cleaning out the garage and waterproofing the backyard furniture. Finally, they'd turned to the gardens. Mulder was amazed at the chores the AD could think up on a moment's notice. He headed up the stairs and into the hall bathroom. Doug followed him and went to the one off the master bedroom. And Mike used the one on the first floor. Mulder spent a solid 15 minutes under a hot shower, then headed to the study to relax before dinner. "Mulder!" the AD shouted from downstairs some ten minutes later. "Where are you?" The younger man jumped up and ran to the top of the front stairs, as his name was called again. "I'm up here," he answered. "Well, get down HERE!" Mulder nearly slipped as he rushed to get down the stairs in his socks. He came to a sliding halt in the front hallway, though, as he looked into the living room. Doug and Mike were standing in two corners of the living room. Both younger men looked surreptitiously over their shoulders, trying to get a look at what was happening. For his part, Mulder's mouth was hanging open as he processed the information at hand . . . and came to the shocking conclusion he was expected to occupy the other corner. "This is another Skinner family tradition, Mulder," Skinner told him as he guided him into the empty corner. "Don't want you to feel left out." Mulder stared at him, his mouth still hanging open. The Assistant Director pushed his mouth closed, then turned him to face the corner. Mulder immediately turned back and whispered. "I wasn't feeling the least bit left out, sir." Skinner grabbed his shoulders and forcefully turned him back into the corner. "I don't really care, Mulder," he said. "This is where you're staying until supper's ready." He watched Mulder to make sure he was staying, then left the room. "Oh, God," the young agent muttered, leaning his head against the wall as soon as the AD departed. "How long is it till supper?" "Probably about an hour," Mike replied from across the room. "An hour?" Mulder answered incredulously. "We're supposed to stand here for an hour?" "Don't make me come back in there!" Skinner called from the family room. They stayed there, quietly, until the AD had dinner ready at 6:15. He called the three of them to come in and they filed into the kitchen, one more subdued than the other. Until the lasagna was dished up and Mike asked how the Pirates had done that day. Skinner filled them in on the outcome of the game against the Dodgers and things seemed to turn almost normal. Until they cleared the dinner dishes and Skinner checked his watch. "It's almost 7 o'clock. Time to get ready for bed, gentlemen," he said. "I'll be up in a few minutes." "Yet another Skinner tradition," Mulder mumbled under his breath. He tried to cover it with a theatrical sigh but it was heard nonetheless. "Okay. I'll deal with that attitude when I come up, Mulder," Skinner said evenly. "I suggest you go now, before you do anything to make it worse." Mulder lay on the bed in the study a little while later and heard the AD come up and go into the room Mike occupied. He could hear the faint sounds of a bedtime spanking, then the door opened and closed again. Next, he heard Skinner go to Andy's old bedroom, right next door. He got better reception of that spanking through the wall. And knew immediately that whatever he could hear, Mike and Doug could hear in reverse. He willed himself to remain calm and not do, or say, anything that might make this worse. Skinner opened the door and came in, closing it quietly behind him. Mulder was in pajama bottoms, with a gray tee shirt on top. He lay stretched out on the bed, waiting for Skinner to say something. "Does this require instructions, Mulder?" "No, sir. I just. . . " He got up immediately and waited for the AD to sit down on the bed. Mulder knelt next to Skinner's legs and was surprised when Skinner paused before proceeding. He brushed the hair off the younger man's forehead and asked him if everything was all right. "Of course everything's all right, sir," Mulder replied, throwing caution to the wind. "I've spent the day doing manual labor that would make a work camp in Mississippi proud. Then I spent an hour standing in the corner. And now I'm about to get my butt smacked before being sent to bed at--" his eyes lit on the radio alarm clock. "--at 7:20 on a Saturday night! Who wouldn't be all right with that?" He finished his little tantrum and exhaled forcefully. "And my mouth just got me in more trouble, didn't it?" he asked with cosmic certainty. Shaking his head, he sighed and leaned forward, letting the other man guide him into position across his knees. "Did it help getting that out?" Skinner asked him curiously. "Yes! I mean, no! I-- I don't know. Does it matter?" "Of course it matters, Mulder." "Does it change anything?" Skinner pulled his pajama bottoms down below his butt cheeks and smacked his butt smartly. "Well, it bought you a few extra whacks." He smacked the younger man's backside again. "Ouch! Ooooh! I'm sorry, sir," he yelled, then remembered Doug could definitely hear through the wall. "I mean, I won't do it again," he whispered and Skinner found himself smiling, despite himself. He remembered all too well the feeling that everyone in the household could probably hear what was going on. He issued another half dozen smacks, aimed directly at the place where the young man sat, and reached to pull up his pajama bottoms. "Well, maybe tomorrow will be a better day for you, Mulder," Skinner said sincerely, pulling the young man up into a hug. "I hope so," Mulder mumbled into his shoulder. "I really hope so. . . " And Sunday was a better day. There was beautiful, spring weather and Skinner found lots of outdoor things for them to do. By late afternoon, Mulder's muscles were strained but his psyche was much improved. Skinner had spent the morning working with the three younger men, then he used the afternoon to catch up on some paperwork he'd brought along. And to call and cancel his appointments for the following day. The rest of the Skinner family would return Monday night but until then, he was the jailer on duty. Finally, he called Scully's voice-mail and told her Mulder would be taking a vacation day Monday as well. At 4:30, he called out the back door and told them to finish up. showered quickly, then headed to his corner, trying to put the best face on his predicament he could manage. "Do we get to rotate?" he asked Mike, who was already in his place. "I mean, a change of scenery would do us all good, don't you think?" Mike laughed but didn't respond and Mulder decided to test his theory. He stepped quickly over to the spot Doug had been given the day before just as the AD and Doug came down the stairs. "Have you developed a case of wanderlust, Mulder?" Skinner asked him amiably, as Doug went, uncomplaining, to the unoccupied corner. "Well, I thought I'd try a different view," Mulder responded, "but now I think I prefer my corner. I'll just switch places with Doug--" "Stay there," Skinner growled. "Noses in the corner. And nobody moves until I say so." He watched Mulder turn back into the corner swiftly, hitting his shoulder on the wall in his haste. Skinner eyed the three of them for a few seconds, then left the room with a smile and a shake of his head. Once he was gone, Mulder spoke first. "Gee, does he seem a little short-tempered to you guys?" "Shhh!" Doug whispered. "You're gonna get us all in trouble--" "Here's a news flash, Doug," Mulder replied, laughing. "We're already in trouble--" "Did I not make myself clear?" Skinner asked as he stepped back in from the kitchen. "I said, 'quiet!'" "No, sir," Mulder replied helpfully. "You said 'don't move.' You never said 'don't talk.'" Skinner paused, his hands on his hips. "Mulder," he said evenly. The younger man turned to him and the AD lifted his right hand and crooked his little finger, beckoning him into the kitchen. Mulder grew worried immediately and he shook his head. "No, I'll be good," he said quickly. "Now, Mulder." Mulder swallowed, wishing he'd taken Doug's advice a moment earlier. He slunk over to the entryway to the kitchen and sidled past the AD, turning sideways so the other man didn't have a clear shot at his butt. He walked into the kitchen and stopped to watch Skinner open the door to the basement and flick the light switch on. A look of grim resignation came to the younger agent's face and he solemnly headed down the stairs, certain what was coming next. And he wasn't wrong. The Assistant Director followed him down. Then he went to an old sideboard that was stored there and took out a wooden paddle. "I made this, Mulder," Skinner said as he lifted it. Mulder sighed audibly. "I know, sir," he said. "You're a man of many talents." "Flattery will get you nowhere, kid. Drop 'em and bend over." Mulder unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, then pushed them and his cotton boxers down below his butt. Then he leaned over the sideboard and laid his head on his folded arms. "My father used to use this paddle when we smart-mouthed him, Mulder," the AD said. "It always made an impression on me." He whacked the young man's backside soundly. "Ahhh!" Mulder gasped. He'd been on the receiving end of that paddle before, but he didn't remember it hurting quite so much. Before he could catch his breath, he'd received another hard swat. "Owwww! Please! I'm sorry!" "Yeah, I always got real sorry, real quick, too, Mulder," Skinner said amiably. "But you know, now it's too late." He applied the wooden paddle to the younger man's rear once more. "Ouchhh!" Mulder yelled. "I-- I. . . Ohhhhh! I'm sorry I mouthed off, sir! I won't do it again!" "How many more, Mulder?" Skinner asked him. "How many more do you think you deserve?" "Um, I don't know, sir! One?" he asked anxiously. No response came from the AD "Two?" Skinner smiled. "Two sounds good, Mulder. One," he said as he smacked the paddle against the flame red butt, "is for setting a bad example for Doug. And what do you think the other is for?" Mulder choked back a sob as he rushed to respond. "For--for setting a bad example for Mike! Owwww!" "Very good," Skinner said as he opened the drawer and put the paddle back. Then he reached over and pulled the younger man to a standing position, pulling him into a hug. "Now, that was completely unnecessary, wasn't it, Mulder? Except for the fact you couldn't resist playing 'class clown,' right?" Mulder sobbed and nodded into the other man's shoulder as Skinner pulled his jeans and shorts back up over his throbbing backside. He winced as the material slid over his sore bottom. After he'd calmed a little more, the AD gave him another squeeze, then turned him around and propelled him toward the stairs. "Back to your little corner of the world, son." Mulder swallowed down the rest of his tears, determined to put the best face on the situation he could, for the benefit of Mike and Doug. Shaking his head ruefully, he headed up the stairs and back into his assigned corner. "Are you okay, Mulder?" Mike asked sympathetically as soon as Skinner left. "Shh!" Mulder nearly jumped out of his skin. "Take my word for it, Mike. You don't want to get caught talking!" ******************************************************************** Later that evening 9:05 p.m. Rrriiinnnnng! Rrriiinnnnng! Skinner grabbed the phone, hoping it wouldn't wake any of the young men sleeping upstairs. "Hello?" "Hi, Walt," Joe responded. "What are you still doing there?" "Oh, Mulder and I both took tomorrow off. We'll be here when you get back tomorrow night." He didn't want to elaborate and worry his brother or the rest of his family while they were away. "Where's Mike?" his brother asked. "They're all 'out' right now," Skinner said, realizing he was skirting the very edge of the truth. There would be time enough to fill Joe in on his son and nephew's exploits tomorrow. Not to mention Mulder. "How's everyone there? Eileen doing okay?" he asked, trying to move Joe onto another topic. "Yeah," he replied with his characteristic deadpan delivery. "Andy happened to mention earlier that 'she's as big as a house.' So she's a little miffed at him right now. And Mom's not too happy with him either!" "Andy gets 'foot in mouth' disease more often than just about anybody I know," Skinner laughed, enjoying a chance to chat with his brother. With his three inmates in bed right after supper, he'd had two solitary nights in a row. "Except maybe Mulder." "Yeah, they're probably about neck and neck," Joe agreed. They spoke another couple of minutes, then Joe gave him their flight arrival information and signed off. As Skinner hung up, Mulder appeared in the doorway to the family room. "Is everything all right, sir?" he asked. "I heard the phone. . . " "Yeah, it was just Joe, checking in. Everybody in Chicago's fine. Having trouble sleeping, Mulder?" "Well, I'm pretty well-rested lately, sir," he said quietly. He'd been on and off a punishment tour, mostly on, for a couple of weeks now. "And I'm not 17, like Mike! I can only take so many nights with 12 hours of sleep in a row. . . . I'll go back to bed now." "Mulder, sit," Skinner said. "I mean it, sit down." He got up and went into the kitchen, returning with two bottles of beer. He handed one to Mulder, then resettled himself in the recliner. "Why don't you keep me company for a while. The boys will never know. I guarantee they're both sleeping like babies." A look of surprise flitted over Mulder's face but he didn't want to question his good fortune. He'd slept for an hour after going to bed, then been up ever since. Staring at the ceiling. Wanting to turn the TV on, but knowing that Skinner would find out and it would earn him more punishment. This was a treat, given his present circumstance, and he didn't want to do anything to risk it. He took a sip of beer and sat down. Skinner had been watching CNN, as was his wont, Mulder knew. A recent case of high school violence was the subject at hand and the two FBI agents found themselves watching news of the Bureau's investigation of the incident. They recognized the SAC who was acting as FBI spokesperson and spoke briefly about their take on the investigation and the likely possibility of copycat attacks. "It's frightening, Mulder," Skinner said, responding as an uncle rather than an Assistant Director in the world's most elite law enforcement agency. "These kids were Mike's age. I look at him and think, 'how does it happen?'" "There are about as many reasons as there are kids," Mulder said, trying to keep a professional distance. "If we profiled these families, we'd come up with dozens of theories and any one of them would be plausible. We'll never know for sure. And the profiles wouldn't help us prevent it the next time." He took another sip of beer and watched for another few seconds. "But I know one thing, for sure, sir," he added sincerely. "It doesn't happen in your family. Mike and Doug almost passed out when I asked them if they planned to deface any property with the spray paint! The Skinners don't raise no delinquents!" The AD let out a belly laugh. "Mulder, you should have been here when Andy was in his hey day! He spent more time on punishment than off, for most of his teens." Mulder smiled but he shook his head. "Believe me, sir," he argued his point. "Whatever you think about Andy, I know what I know. That guy in the police station yesterday was a prime example of what I'm talking about. You all have stricter standards than the rest of the world. Andy was probably in trouble for stuff no one else would have even blinked at." Skinner nodded, deciding Mulder's assessment was probably right. And wondering one more thing. "Too strict, Mulder?" he asked, lifting the bottle to his lips, letting the younger man make his own judgment about whether Skinner was talking about his nephews, or Mulder himself. Mulder didn't respond at first, weighing his answer. Wanting to be honest, and say the right thing. "No, sir," he said quietly. "I would never have said this before . . . you know, before you . . . let me experience it firsthand. But I think it's probably just about right." He nodded his head with certainty. Skinner smiled and exhaled forcefully. "Good. Well, I don't want to be accused of being unnecessarily strict, kid, but . . . " he paused for effect, "it's your turn to get the beer." A broad grin came to the younger man's face and he jumped up from the couch. "Yes, sir!" he said, with a mock salute. "Anything you say, sir!" ********************************************************************** The Skinner residence Monday afternoon 4:55 p.m. They'd finished up the day's chores only moments before and Mulder, Doug and Mike were just finishing storing the tools and ladder in the garage. They'd spent the afternoon cleaning the gutters out, a task Mulder had never done before, and couldn't believe was as time-consuming as it turned out to be. He looked at the big old house as he left the garage, thinking he'd never appreciated how large the place really was until now. Just then Skinner came out of the back door carrying a basketball. He started dribbling it and then took a shot at the hoop hanging from the side of the garage. The ball rimmed the basket and bounced off the backboard, in Doug's direction. The young man grabbed it easily and took his own shot at the basket, missing by a good bit. Mulder reached out a long arm and caught the ball as it rebounded and he executed a perfect layup, sending the ball in a perfect arc to the basket and through without even touching the rim. "I'll take Mulder on my team," Doug said instantly. "Fine," the AD agreed. "That means it's you and me, Mikey. And don't worry, we've got youth and beauty on our side." Mike looked at him dubiously but his uncle had retrieved the ball from under the basket and passed it to him immediately. Within seconds, they had a half-court game going that was both good-natured and action-packed. Before any of them knew it, the late afternoon had begun to turn into evening and the other Skinners' cars were pulling into the driveway. Skinner's two nieces flew out of the car, anxious to tell them all about their trip to the Windy City and the Northwestern campus visit. The four of them greeted the new arrivals and then they repaired to the house to catch everyone up on what was new with the Chicago part of the clan. Mike held back and spoke to his uncle worriedly. "Do you have to tell my Dad, Uncle Walter?" he asked. quietly. Doug and Mulder had slowed down and stayed in earshot. "No, Mike, I'm not gonna tell him anything," Skinner said, clapping him on the back. "You are." Mike hung his head and sighed as the AD pushed him gently toward the back door. Skinner put an arm around Doug as well and the young deputy sheriff nodded. "I guess I have to tell my Dad, too, huh?" Skinner nodded and smiled. "Honesty is always the best policy, gentlemen," he said as they both headed in. Mulder had been watching them with interest and now he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the AD with great seriousness. "You're not gonna make me tell you, are you , sir?" he deadpanned. The AD stared at him a full five seconds, unblinking. Then he turned Mulder around and slapped him on the butt to get him moving. "No, Mulder," he said seriously, "I'm gonna make you tell my Dad." Mulder stopped dead in his tracks and Skinner ran right into his back. He turned back to the older man, a look of pure panic in his eyes. "No! No, I-- I don't, please don't make me--" he stammered until Skinner couldn't hold back the smile that lit his face. "Gotcha." "Oh, God. You shouldn't do that, sir," Mulder groaned, putting a hand to his chest. "I could have had a heart attack. . . ." After dinner, the crowd dispersed, with Skinner having given both Joe and Oliver a heads up on what to expect from their sons in the way of a confession. He wanted them to own up to it, but he also wanted both his brother and brother-in-law to know he'd already meted out serious punishment. Whatever they chose to do now was up to them, but he didn't want either of the boys to be hit with double jeopardy. Joe was especially angry and the AD took a few minutes to calm him down, making sure he remembered a similar prank he'd been involved in as a kid. "You have every right to be angry, Joe," he said. "Getting suspended from school's nothing to sneeze at. But you survived it okay and managed to live a very successful life. I just want to make sure you have a little perspective on this before you tear into Michael." Joe shrugged and sighed. "You're right," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean he's not gonna finish out a very long punishment tour. . . . " The elder Skinners headed up to bed, tired from their travel day. Skinner and Mulder had decided earlier that they'd get up early and drive down to D.C. in the morning. "I'm gonna lock the place up, Mulder," Skinner told him. "I'll be up in a couple of minutes." Mulder nodded and headed up the stairs. He was immediately certain what that meant. Last night wasn't the end of his punishment tour, just a temporary parole. He washed up and got ready for bed, then sat down to wait for the AD In a couple of minutes, he heard a knock and told the other man to come in. He stood as soon as Skinner entered. The Assistant Director took a seat on the bed and waited for the younger man to place himself in position. Mulder knelt at his right side and paused before proceeding. "Sir?" he said quietly. Skinner was not expecting him to beg for a reprieve. It wasn't generally Mulder's style. "Yes, Mulder?" "I just . . . want to tell you. . . Before you begin, I want to tell you how much I appreciated last night. You . . . letting me stay up with you like you did. It made me feel like--" he stopped, searching for the right words to explain it. "Like you don't think of me as a kid. Even if I sometimes act like one." Skinner was a little startled at this observation. He'd sensed Mulder was confused and guilty about what he'd done to deserve punishment as well as the fact he was being punished with Doug and Mike. And he'd carefully considered whether to ignore it, or act on his suspicion and risk negating the lesson for the younger man. Now he knew he'd chosen correctly. "And, one more thing," Mulder continued, his eyes brimming with tears. "I know playing basketball today was just a way to . . . let us save face, sir. To not have to be standing in the corner when your family came home. Your folks and everybody. And your nieces. . . . I don't know if I could have handled that." "Well, Mulder," Skinner answered, brushing the hair back off the younger man's face. "I'm glad you know that. But I also want to make it clear, if you ever get another punishment tour here, you won't get that break again. We never got it, kid. If you did the crime, you did the time. No matter who was here, or who came to visit. It definitely made an impression on me, one that's lasted a good long time. But I was pretty sure you didn't know about that so. . . ." Mulder nodded his thanks again and blinked back the tears that were already pooled in his eyes. "I hear you, sir," he said, leaning forward over the other man's knees. Skinner pulled the cotton pajama bottoms down immediately and gave him the first of a half dozen hard swats. Mulder was already tearful, so it didn't take long to have him sobbing. After the sixth smack, Skinner pulled his pajama bottoms back up and gathered him up into a firm hug. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "This is one of the tougher lessons I ever learned, Mulder. To be held responsible for other people feels unfair sometimes. Hell, on some occasions, when the Bureau holds me responsible for your actions, I want to tell them exactly that! But I am responsible for you. And you've gotta be responsible, too. For yourself. And sometimes for others. . . . like with Doug and Mike, the other day. I know that's not something you're completely comfortable with. But you're gonna have to learn it. If you want to be treated like an adult, you've gotta act like one." Mulder nodded and pulled back from Skinner's shoulder, looking the other man in the eye. "And if you act like a kid, you get treated like one," he said meaningfully, rubbing his backside. "The last couple of days have made that more than clear, sir!" ********************************************************************** Route 1 in Delaware Monday morning 7:45 a.m. Skinner was pulling his jeep into the left lane, the only one actually moving, when his cell phone rang. "Skinner," he answered quickly, while avoiding a compact car that cut him off at that moment. A familiar voice answered. "Hi, Andy," he replied. "Heard your mouth was running on auto pilot this weekend." Mulder heard only the A.D.'s side of the conversation but he was easily able to fill in the blanks. Skinner had mentioned that Andy got his wife and mother a little upset with a comment about Eileen being very pregnant -- and kind of big. Skinner hadn't heard it directly, but he suspected his Dad had given Andy a little refresher course in proper manners. "Well, Andy, even if she says it herself, you're not supposed to agree," Skinner laughed. "And you're definitely not supposed to repeat it to the whole family. Even I know that, kiddo!" He listened another couple of minutes while Andy expounded on the details of his faux pas, and its consequences, then the AD grew more serious. "Andy, I think that would be great. Do you want to talk to him?" Mulder looked up, surprised. He'd been listening with half an ear, but didn't think the conversation had anything to do with him. Skinner passed him the cell phone. "Hi, Andy," Mulder said. "How's everyone there?" He spoke quietly to the A.D.'s younger brother for another couple of minutes, while Skinner did his best to get them out from behind a traffic jam and not listen in on Mulder's conversation. He pulled the jeep off onto a side road and through a small town, then rejoined the highway only to find the accident that was tying things up was still somewhere ahead of them. As he was contemplating yet another alternative, Mulder ended his call and handed the cell phone back to him. Skinner glanced over and saw the younger man was smiling but tears were pooled in his eyes. "Well, Mulder?" "Andy and Eileen want me to be godfather to their baby," he said quietly. "Yeah, I heard. What did you say?" "I said I'd be honored, of course. But . . . I just can't believe they asked me--" Skinner smiled at him. "Mulder, I'm Brian's godfather," he said, mentioning Andy's firstborn. "And Joe is Haley's. You're the logical choice, kid. And you're a great choice, too. Now that you've got that 'responsibility' thing down!" Mulder laughed out loud, despite himself. He knew he was facing another punishment tour this week for not having fully comprehended the 'responsibility thing.' He folded his arms over his chest and gave the AD a satisfied smile. "Well, anyway, you'll have pounded it into me long before this kid is old enough to test my expertise, right, sir?" "Gee, Mulder, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were turning into an optimist!" THE END