Fresh Start Series
by DiAnn


Fresh Start Saturday


Rating: NC17 - SLASH/ language/ BDSM/ Violence

Category: Pure Trash / Discipline / m/m Slash
This story M/Sc Only. Discipline.

Warning: Scully/ Mulder/ Skinner Slash/Threesome Implied
Severe discipline. 

If you don't like this kind of thing, or you are underage, go
somewhere else . . . Please! I don't want to hear from 
you and I don't want to hear from your Mama. 

Spoiler: Very little. 

Summary: Mulder can't stay out of trouble, even on a Saturday with 
Scully. This is not Part 5, more of an interlude of the Fresh Start 
Series. Just a little story that needed to be told. 

Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own Mulder, Scully, Skinner or 
anyone else from the X-Files. I am borrowing them without permission 
and am obviously not receiving money for this stuff. We all know who 
they really belong to, CC, Fox and lots of other people but again, not 
me. 

Fresh Start Saturday
By: DiAnn 

Just as they were sitting down to dinner the phone rang. Mrs. Scully 
had almost decided to let the machine pick up, until she noticed the 
anxious looks on Fox and Dana's faces. She sighed with annoyance as 
she rose from her chair. She really wished people would not call 
during the dinner hour. It was just so rude. 

She walked back in a moment later, "Fox, it's for you, Dear." 

Mulder and Scully exchanged concerned looks as he rose to go into the 
other room. "I'll make it quick, Mrs. Scully, I promise." 

"I do wish he would start calling Maggie." She looked pointedly at her 
daughter, "Then of course, Mom, would be nice too." 

"Who was that on the phone, Mom?" Dana's brow was still furrowed with 
anxiety, ignoring her Mother's obvious attempt at matchmaking. 

"I don't know, Sweetheart, I didn't ask. It was a gentleman." 

"Was it AD Skinner?" 

"Oh no, your Mr. Skinner has a very distinctive voice. I'm sure I 
would have known had it been he." 

"I have to go!" Mulder stood in the doorway, already scrambling into 
his leather jacket. 

"Go! Go where?" Scully glared at him as she quickly rose from her 
chair. 

"Something has come up, Scully." He glanced nervously at Mrs. Scully, 
obviously not wanting to say too much in front of the older woman. It 
would only needlessly worry Scully's Mom. "I . . . uh, won't be long. 
You just enjoy your dinner and I'll be right back." He turned and 
rushed for the door. 

"Fox Mulder, you come back here right this minute." Scully hurried 
after her deserting partner, through the house and out onto the front 
lawn. She finally caught up enough to grab his arm firmly and turn him 
to face her. 

"Come on, Scully." Mulder pleaded. "I have to go. I have to be at the 
corner of Elm and Morton Streets in fifteen minutes to see my sister. 
I don't have time to discuss this with you." 

"Who was that on the phone, Mulder?" She kept a tight grip on his arm. 
He could get free if he really wanted to but not without the risk of 
hurting Scully. 

"I don't know." 

"You've never spoken to him before?" 

"No, Scully, I haven't. Now let go of me. I only have ten minutes 
left. If I'm late, he says she'll be gone." 

"Fine. I'm coming with you." 

"No, he said alone. Please, Scully, it's my sister. It may be the only 
chance I'll ever get to see her. I have to go." He pulled the kicked 
puppy face and threw in the lip for good measure. It was evident that 
he was willing to fight dirty to get his way this time. 

She hesitated for only a moment, "No," she said with renewed 
determination. 

"What? Scully, you can't . . . " 

"Oh yes I can. Walter made me promise to keep an eye on you. He wants 
you in one piece when he returns home tonight and so do I. So, no, you 
can't go without me as backup!" 

"Scully, I'm going and that's . . . " He was interrupted by the 
explosion that turned his car into an inferno on Maggie Scully's quiet 
suburban street. 

* * *
2 Hours Later 

Dana Scully stood in the downstairs bathroom and tried desperately to 
wash away the smoke and grass stains from her face and hands. Without 
warning the hot burning tears started to roll down her pale cheeks. 

There was a gentle tapping. She hurriedly threw more water on her 
flushed face as her mother softly opened the door. 

"The fire's out." 

"Yeah, I know. Mulder is still out there finishing up with the police 
and fire personnel." She felt the tears near the surface again and 
before she knew what had happened she was being held securely in her 
mother's ever comforting arms. 

Maggie Scully rubbed small circles on her daughter's trembling back 
and cooed reassurance into her ear just as she had done for a thousand 
adolescent bouts of world-ending misery. When the tears had finally 
cried themselves out, Dana turned to splash her face once more. 

"Sorry Mom." 

"He's quiet a stubborn young man, isn't he." 

"Yes, he is . . . it's just that . . . what I mean is . . . well, you 
just wouldn't understand, Mom." 

"Oh, I understand all right. More than you could ever know. Do you 
love him, Dana?" 

Scully started to give her standard politically correct answer and 
then she stopped herself. Her mother was by no means stupid. Mulder 
was so much a part of Dana Scully's life, she could not imagine living 
without him. It had to be obvious to someone as astute as her mother. 
No doubt this woman knew exactly what her feelings were for her 
handsome but exasperating partner. "Yes, I love him, Mom. Very much." 

Maggie smiled, "Thank you for trusting me enough to be honest with me, 
Dana. Now, I think it's long past time I showed you something. Would 
you come upstairs with me?" 

When they had reached her Mother's bedroom, Maggie locked the door 
behind them and went straight to the closet to began rooting around on 
the uppermost shelf. Dana took the opportunity to look around at the 
room her parents had shared for so many years. This was her Mother's 
most private room. It really had changed very little since her 
father's death, as if Maggie Scully hoped to keep a part of him with 
her by leaving a few of his things in place in this room. It was the 
only room in the house where her Mother allowed this little bit of 
delusion to surface, unnoticed by her children. 

"Here it is." Maggie came out carrying a very old but sturdy dress 
box. She sat on the side of her bed and patted the space beside her. 

"Dana, the conversation I am about to have with you would not be one 
normally held between a mother and her daughter, it would be more of 
something shared between two good friends. An older friend who wished 
to help a younger woman with a problem. Do you think we could have a 
conversation like that, Dana?" 

Dana wiped another tear from her eye, "Of course, Mom, in many ways 
you are my friend, one of my best friends." 

"Oh Dana, that is the best compliment any mother can get from her 
grown daughter." 

Maggie Scully took a deep breath and started her story. "When your 
father and I were first married, he was under the impression that life 
would change very little for him. That he could continue some of the 
habits that he had picked up while he was a young, single naval 
officer. I was very young myself and I tried to be patient but I knew 
that was not the way to build a strong successful marriage. My own 
father, your grandfather, was a dedicated family man and that was what 
I wanted and expected from my own husband." 

Maggie hesitated for a moment as if lost in thought, "It was our 
three-month anniversary and Bill had shore leave for the weekend. I 
was so excited and had planned to celebrate for the entire three days. 
Oh, I know it was silly. It was just a three-month anniversary but it 
was important to me. And Bill knew that. Still, he didn't get back to 
our little base house until 3:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. One beer 
with his buddies had led to another and soon he was completely 
inebriated and singing love songs to me from our tiny front lawn. So I 
went out in my night clothes and collected my wayward husband and put 
him to bed. While he slept it off, I made plans. Our life together was 
going to change drastically." 

Maggie reached into the mysterious box and pulled out a leather strap 
and a wooden paddle. Scully gasped at what she saw and raised 
horrified eyes to her mother. 

"Yes, Dana. The next morning I punished him. He spent quite some time, 
hangover and all, trying to convince me that I did not need to correct 
him, that he would never make that mistake again. But I was adamant 
and he got his spanking. In fact, he got several during that weekend. 
And when he wasn't over my knee, he was doing chores around the house. 
By Monday morning, he was a changed man." 

Dana was speechless. She just stared at her Mother with wide-eyed 
wonder. Her wildly churning thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock 
at the door. 

"Scully, the fire fighters and police are gone." 

"Uh . . . that's good, Mulder. Just go on downstairs, I'll be there in 
a few minutes," she managed to say in what she hoped was a near to 
normal voice. 

"Okay, I'll be in the den." There was a few moments hesitation and 
then she heard his concerned voice again, "Are you okay, Scully?" 
Guess her voice had not been as steady as she had hoped. 

"I'm fine. I'm just talking to Mom, Mulder." She turned back, wanting 
to hear more and yet afraid for her mother to continue. Her mother saw 
the conflict in Dana's eyes. Understanding a daughter's wish to 
believe her father infallible but also seeing a woman's wish to know 
how to save the man she loved more than her own life. 

"It wasn't the last time I had to punish him either. Bill spent many 
shore leaves making amends for his behavior. After a good spanking he 
would spend the next two days in a punishment outfit. He was allowed 
no other clothing, no matter what." 

Maggie reached into the box and pulled out what looked like an old 
pair of cut off jeans. But when she turned them around, Scully could 
see that the back was cut so high that the wearer's entire backside 
would be on full display. 

"These were my favorite. Your father was an extremely handsome man and 
he used to blush like the dickens when he had to wear these while he 
worked around our little home. One of the rules was that he wore the 
punishment outfit no matter what happened or who came to visit. He 
only got caught once. His mother came to the door for a surprise visit 
and since he was the one who always had to answer whenever someone 
knocked, well, he couldn't very well turn away his own mother, now 
could he? I was very worried. I was a relatively new bride and I was 
concerned she would be angry with me for treating her son in such a 
manner. Imagine my surprise when she applauded my actions and told 
Bill how fortunate he was to have married such a clever woman. From 
that day forward, your Grandmother Scully and I were as close as any 
real mother and daughter." 

Maggie looked into her daughter's dazed face, might as well continue 
now. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. "It became harder 
after you children began to arrive. Bill had settled down, of course, 
so he wasn't punished as often. But when he needed it, he spent his 
punishment weekends in the basement." 

"The basement? I . . . I thought he went down there to get away from 
us kids. I was always so hurt when he locked himself down in that 
basement." 

"He never locked himself away from you children. I put him there, with 
a very sore bottom and in punishment clothes. He hated it so. I 
remember one time, oh you had to be about five or six I think . . . " 

"I remember that! I stood by that basement door and cried for him for 
two days. I was so angry with him for staying down there." 

"Yes, that nearly broke his heart. He never looked at another woman 
after that weekend." 

"Another woman! Ahab . . . my Dad . . . he . . . " 

"Oh Dana. All relationships, be they marriages or just friendships," 
she winked at her blushing daughter, "have their ups and downs. I just 
always made sure that when your Father had a down time, it didn't 
destroy our lives. It was his own fault, you know. If they don't want 
to toe the line, then men should never fall in love with an Irish 
Woman." 

Scully chuckled at that. Walter had always said she was a natural top. 
Evidently it was a genetic trait. 

Maggie closed the box again and handed it to Scully, "Now I never want 
to be the kind of mother who tells her grown children what to do, 
however, you have a very handsome young man down stairs who I think 
needs to be brought up short. It would be a shame to lose someone like 
Fox Mulder. He is quite a catch you know." Her mother patted her knee, 
"Now, I promised Mrs. Larkin that I would drop by this afternoon. I 
should be gone about four hours or so. More than enough time to teach 
a fine young man a good lesson in that basement." 

Dana hugged her mother, "Mom, I don't know what to say. This is all a 
shock, of course, but I have to think that you are a very wise woman. 
I want you to know how much I appreciate your help." 

"You're welcome, Darling." 

It took Scully a few minutes to pull herself together before she left 
the bedroom to find her infuriating and reckless partner. He was 
casually sprawled on the couch watching his beloved New York Knicks. 

"Where did your Mom go, Scully? She kissed me on the head and wished 
me luck. Don't you think that was a little odd?" He turned to meet her 
eyes, "Hey you aren't still mad about that little car thing are you?" 

"Little car thing? Little car thing! Is that what you call almost 
being blown to kingdom come, Mulder?" 

"Uh . . . well, I guess you were right about that phone call, Scully. 
It was a set up." He shrugged his broad shoulders in dismissal, 
"Sorry. Hey want's in the box?" 

"Funny you should ask, Mulder. Come with me downstairs and I'll show 
you. It's a gift from my mother and its for both of us really." 

Mulder followed her down the steep wooden stairs. "Wow, I didn't even 
know this house had a basement!" 

"It was my father's domain. Us kids were never allowed down here, so 
it just isn't a place we come to now." 

Mulder looked around. An old well used, slightly sagging couch, 
reminded him of his own. A few mismatched chairs, a couple of benches 
and a high wooden stool. But the lighting was good, remarkably so for 
a place so seldom used. Then he noticed something odd, eye bolts 
screwed into the overhead beam and into the floor under them in 
several different locations. Swag lamps maybe? 

"Scully, what did your Dad do down here anyway?" 

She was digging through that mysterious box, "Well, it would seem he 
paid for his sins." She withdrew a long piece of rope. "Take off your 
clothes and come over here, Mulder." 

Her partner just stood in the middle of the floor, eyes wide and mouth 
open. 

"Which part of that sentence was too much for that massive IQ of 
yours, Mulder? The strip part or the get your butt over here part?" 

"But Scully, I . . . " 

"Not one more word, Mister. Did you think I would just let this whole 
day ride? I almost lost you again. Blown to smithereens within a few 
miles of my Mother's home. She would have been devastated, Mulder and 
I would have had nothing more to live for. Your actions were reckless, 
irresponsible and selfish. Now you pay the price." 

She glared at him until he swallowed hard, "Or do I call Walter?" 

He quickly removed his clothing. Once he was naked and shivering, he 
hesitantly moved over beside her. She quickly attached some padded 
leather wrist and ankle cuffs from the box. Her mother had used her 
usual good taste with the selection. They were all well constructed 
and well cared for. 

She was cursing under her breath as she dragged an old dining room 
chair over to climb up on in order to tie his hands over his head. 
Being short was often such a hassle. Mulder did not dare say one word. 
He did not think this was the right time for his usual jabs about 
Scully's height, or lack thereof. 

Once he was secured, hands high above his head. The leather cuffs were 
more than adequate protection against any rope burn. Then she secured 
his feet, spread widely, to the floor. He was tightly stretched and 
looked gorgeous. Then she started to dig the magic box once more, 
pulling out a small metal tin. 

She came back from the small bathroom mixing something in a plastic 
bowl. >From what Mulder could see it was a thin watery white paste. He 
wasn't really too nervous until she snapped on the latex gloves. 

"Uh . . . Scully, what exactly is that in the bowl?" 

She picked up a the paint brush she had found and moved over to face 
him. She liberally coated it with her mixture and lifted it to his 
right nipple drawing a lazy circle around the little brown nub, 
coating it throughly. He arched away from the slight tickle. 

"Do you want the scientific name or the common name, Fox?" 

"I think we better stick with the common name, <Dana>." He spit out 
sarcastically. He became aware that as the paste on his nipple started 
to dry, it began to tingle slightly. The tingle soon turned to a 
deeper discomfort. 

"It's Itching Power." 

"Scully, no!" His nipple was really itching now, he pulled at his 
restrained wrists. Had he been free, he would have clawed at the 
offending nipple. 

Scully raised the brush and leisurely painted the other nipple. She 
then drew a long leisurely line down over his stomach and toward his 
groin. 

"Scully, please no! I'm sorry! I will never try to leave in an 
exploding car again, I promise!" 

Scully ran the brush up and down his hard shaft, making sure to cover 
every inch with your diabolical little brew. Mulder was really dancing 
now. Hopping from foot to foot, thrusting his swollen cock into the 
air as if trying to satisfy an invisible lover. 

"Scul-l-l-l-y! Please." 

Scully ignored his pleas and coated his balls and that tender little 
area behind them. He pulled at his restraints, trying desperately to 
pull his legs together. He was bound and helpless before his suddenly 
sadistic partner. 

Then she moved behind him. She ran the brush up and down the crevice 
separating his firm round buttocks, then pushed her soft brush well 
into the tight little opening between them. Mulder's begging turned 
into a constant plea for mercy and promises of better behavior in the 
future. She ignored it all. 

"Scully, please no. I can't stand it. Really, I can't. Please!" 

She looked down at her bowl, finding it still almost full. Well, waste 
not, want not. She painted his entire backside with the insidious 
mixture. By the time she had finished, her partner was dancing 
wantonly and begging her to release him so he could scratch those most 
intimate areas of his body. 

Scully sat in a chair facing the suffering man and picked a book out 
of the box. It turned out to be a journal written in her mother's 
precise hand. It detailed every punishment her father had ever 
received. Date, misdeed and his reactions to what had been done to 
him. Scully was still in shock that her beloved Ahab could have gotten 
himself into so much trouble. 

She looked up at her beautiful quivering partner. Just like it was 
described in the book, he would shake and shiver and stomp his feet 
frantically for a few minutes, when that did not alleviate his misery 
he would try standing absolutely still. When that didn't help either, 
he would go back to the frantic movements. The pattern repeated itself 
again and again. 

"Please, Scully, please." His face was wet with perspiration and tears 
and she felt her heart begin to melt. She checked her watch, it had 
only been forty-five minutes but she had to admit, she really was as 
much a sucker for Mulder as Skinner ever was. 

She got up from her chair and walked into the tiny bathroom, returned 
with a bag to which was attached a long hose and nozzle. 

Mulder hated enemas but this time he seemed actually relieved that she 
planned to do something to alleviate the itch in his most private of 
places. 

"Do you want this, Mulder?" 

"Yes Scully, please anything. I'll do anything, just make it stop." 

She hung the bag from a convenient hook, gently inserted the nozzle 
and let the warm medicated water flow into him. 

"Ten minutes, Mulder." 

He had his eyes squeezed tightly shut, the craving to wiggle 
irresistible but the need to hold the water more urgent. Ten minutes 
seemed like an hour to the unfortunate bound man. 

Scully crawled back up on the chair and untied him. He was no sooner 
freed than he made a mad dash for the bathroom. When she heard the 
flush, she tapped on the door. 

"There is a special bar of soap lying on the sink, Mulder, you may 
take a shower now." 

The shower started immediately. She waited patiently, still reading 
her Mother's journal. Filled with tales of an errant man and the woman 
who loved him to distraction. She was just beginning to think she 
would have to go in after her own cherished man when the door opened 
and her repentant partner made an appearance. 

"I'm so sorry, Scully. I promise I'll never do that again." 

"No Mulder, I'm sure you won't. I want you to drop that towel and come 
lay over the back of this couch. I have some more punishment that 
needs to be done today. I refuse to lose you Mulder. If you ever pull 
another <little car thing> like the one you tried today, well all I 
can say is, you won't have to worry about facing Walter. I'm your 
partner, Mulder, I go with you don't ditch me - ever! Now move that 
cute little butt over here." 

Mulder stretched himself over the back of the couch, his bare backside 
high and presented to his annoyed partner for chastisement. She used a 
small wooden paddle that she had found in that damned box and set his 
cheeks on fire. From the first stinging slap to the last, it was pure 
misery. She didn't hit hard enough to cause his skin to go numb, so he 
felt every last stinging swat as if it were the first one. And in the 
usual Scully fashion, she was meticulous. Every inch of exposed skin 
was set on fire and then a little more fuel added to the deep burning 
anguish. 

"Have you learned your lesson, Mulder?" 

"Yes! Scully, please stop. I won't do it again. From now on I only 
listen to shady informants that I know!" 

"Oh, now that's comforting." She continued to smack the red blistered 
cheeks with her trusty little paddle. 

Mulder buried his face in the dusty old fabric of the couch and cried 
as quietly as possible. No one could make his butt hurt like Scully 
when she was in a real snit. And this was the worse show of temper 
that he ever hoped to see. 

"And I don't like the idea of working with Krycek, Mulder." 

"I . . . I didn't . . . it wasn't my idea! It was Skinner! Ouch! I 
don't like him either!" 

"Then why did you let him kiss you?" Three more stinging slaps right 
to the base of his butt where it really hurt the worst. 

"Ouch! Does everybody know about that? Shit! I won't let him to touch 
me again, Scully. Oh-h-h-h! Ouch! I promise!" 

"See that he doesn't!" 

Fifteen minutes later, Scully sat on the old couch holding her 
contrite partner on her lap as she rubbed soothing lotion onto his 
nipples, cock and balls. It seemed the special soap she had found in 
the box did not completely sooth all the itch. For Scully, this 
presented no problem. She was rather enjoying rubbing Mulder's 
exquisitely wiggling body in this manner. 

"Uh-h-h . . . Scully?" 

"Yes, Mulder?" 

"I was wondering . . . what I mean is . . . well, would you give me 
another enema?" 

Her stroking hands stopped immediately. Mulder wanted another enema? 
This had never happened before. 

"Still itch?" 

"Oh yeah!" 

"Wait here, Mulder. I think I have an idea." 

Scully ran up the basement stairs and then up the other flight. When 
she reached the second floor, she pulled down the ladder to the attic. 
She looked around the cluttered and dusty room until she spotted 
Missy's trunk. 

She dug through it frantically, hoping against hope, that her mother 
had not decided to clean out Missy's childhood treasures. Then her 
hand settled on what she had been searching for. She triumphantly 
pulled it out of it's long forgotten hiding place. Missy had traded 
two free palm readings and a crystal pendent for this forbidden 
object. She and Dana had laughed about it for weeks. 

Grabbing some Vaseline needed supplies from the upstairs bathroom, 
Scully hurried back to the basement and her gorgeous slave. 

"Get over the back of the couch again, Mulder. I'm going to make it 
feel all better." 

Mulder looked at her with anguish in his hazel eyes, "Please Scully, 
don't use that paddle again." 

"No. No more spanking, unless of course, you don't obey my orders. Now 
do as I said and bend over the couch." 

When he was positioned just right, Scully pulled the pink rubber dildo 
from behind her back and coated it with Vaseline. She then coated her 
fingers and pushed them slowly and carefully up into her partner's 
waiting backside. He moaned with what Scully felt sure was relief. She 
didn't have any real experience with this but she was, after all, a 
doctor and she did know where all the good stuff was located. She knew 
how to scratch an itch and at the same time, send electric sparks of 
pleasure throughout his body. 

She worked on him painstakingly until she was sure that the small 
noises escaping his lips were sounds of pure pleasure. Then she 
carefully placed the tip of the pink rubber intruder at his entrance 
and pushed gently. 

Mulder hissed and she hesitated. When he settled back down, she gently 
pushed again. This time a good portion of the object disappeared into 
his body. Scully was captivated. 

This was such an unusual and totally erotic experience. She now 
understood why Walter enjoyed this so much. To so completely control 
such a strong, gorgeous man. To be able to stand above him and watch 
while you brought him such pleasure. Of course she had often been in 
control of Mulder. He loved her as much as she loved him and sex for 
them had always been a two-way street to ecstasy. He always gave her 
all that he had to give, her happiness was his happiness. And now, 
although not a greater pleasure than having him inside her, it was a 
breath taking new experience to put something inside him. He was so 
beautiful like this. 

She watched as the slick dildo disappeared between his firm buttocks 
and then pulled back out making the tight little ring of muscle 
stretch and pucker. She thrilled as he squirmed and wiggled that 
glorious ass. For her, all for her. 

He whimpered once more and she lowered her mouth to his ear. "Does 
this feel good, Mulder? Do you like it when I do this to you?" 

"Oh yes, Scully, yes please, don't stop." 

"Oh I won't stop, don't worry about that." She moved her other hand 
around to gasp his hard and aching cock. "Come on Mulder, come for me. 
Let me make you come - Just for me, Mulder." 

She worked the pink rubber and her soft warm fingers a few seconds 
longer, until he screamed her name and erupted all over her hand, the 
couch and himself. He lay trembling and panting, still hers to 
command. 

Scully rubbed his back in slow circles until he got his breathing 
under control, then she carefully pulled the dildo from his body. She 
used the towel to lovingly clean them off. 

She leaned over to bestow a gentle kiss on his sensuous full lips, 
"Thank you for letting me do that, Mulder. It was, by far, one of the 
most erotic moments of my life." 

"It was pretty exciting for me too, Scully." 

* * * 

One Hour Later
Maggie Scully's House 

Margaret Scully entered her front door and stopped dead in her tracks, 
tears forming in her eyes. 

Fox Mulder was on his knees facing a corner of her family room. His 
bare red bottom fully displayed by Bill's old punishment shorts. It 
was the most beautiful thing she had seen in many years. 

She walked over and kissed the top of his dark head. "Oh Fox, you 
can't know what wonderful memories you bring back for me today, seeing 
you in the outfit I made especially for my Bill. You are the only man 
I have ever known with a backside as beautiful as my late husbands." 

Mulder didn't know what to say to that, so he just blushed another 
couple of shades of red. It must have been the right thing to do, it 
earned him another kiss to the top of his head. 

* * * 

Their House
That Evening 

Walter Skinner walked into his house and laid down his briefcase with 
a relieved sigh. He hated working on Saturdays, especially this many 
long hours. He would much rather have spent the day with Mulder and 
Scully at Maggie's house. 

The first thing he noticed was Mulder, sprawled on the couch, watching 
television by himself. A scowl pasted all over his handsome face. He 
had several pairs of jeans and his favorite running shorts pressed 
protectively against his chest. 

"What's wrong, Mulder?" 

"Scully! That's what's wrong," he growled. 

Not wishing to take on Mulder in a full fledged pout, Skinner moved 
into the dining room. There he found Scully, her portable sewing 
machine set up on the table, happily stitching away. 

"What's going on, Dana? What's wrong with Mulder?" 

"He's ticked about the punishment outfits I'm making." To Skinner's 
surprise, her bottom lip came out in a pout reminiscent more of the 
man in the other room than this usually calm and capable woman. "He 
won't give me a pair of his jeans, Walter. I tried but he got to all 
of them first." 

"What are you making, Dana?" 

"Punishment clothes." She said, her good cheer seemingly restored. 

Skinner walked over and picked up a T-shirt from a stack laying on the 
table. It looked like a standard white shirt to him. Then he turned it 
over. The back had been shortened and would probably hit Mulder right 
at the top of his ass. In large red letters it read: SHE BURNED THE 
BUNS AGAIN With a large black arrow pointing down toward Mulder's, no 
doubt blistered to a bright red, butt cheeks. 

Skinner stood staring at the shirt for just a moment and then burst 
out laughing. 

"Oh Scully, I needed that! This is your best craft project thus far. I 
can't wait to see them but don't show me anymore right now, I want to 
wait and see how they look on our pretty live model in there." 

"Yeah, our own personal Ken Doll." 

A loud angry snort came from the other room and both Scully and 
Skinner dissolved into uncontrollable laughter. Mulder's next 
punishment would indeed be memorable for all of them. And knowing 
Mulder, they wouldn't have to wait long. 

The End