Author's Notes: This is a *very* belated birthday present for Cadillac 
Red. :-)

Warning: This is a Western AU with a teenaged Fox who will eventually 
have some sort of parental relationship with Skinner. If this isn't 
your cup of tea, do not read on.

Category: PG-13, Discipline

Disclaimer: So the names are kinda sorta the same but other than that 
I'd say my characters work better...(and let's not even get started on 
the whole continuity thing! <g>)

My addy is: gaby@gaby.slashcity.tv

My home is at: http://gaby.slashcity.tv

Summary: Fox enjoys a present his Old Meanie gave him...a little too 
much...



INDEPENDENCE
by Gaby


Chapter 11 – The Present



It had been such a good idea, Fox thought glumly while he stared at 
what Sheriff Skinner now affectionately called "his corner." The boy 
hated standing in that corner; he preferred to do some Reflection 
Time. Then again, since he enjoyed his Reflection Time Skinner was 
probably right to not use it as part of a punishment. Fox sighed and 
stole a glance at the big man sitting in the rocking chair in front of 
the blazing fire.

"Nose back in the corner, Rascal. Ten more minutes," came the 
immediate reply. Fox shot Skinner a dark look but obeyed, grousing at 
the chuckle he heard from across the room.

It really had been such a good idea, he thought again. Who'd've 
thought that Skinner wouldn't approve?

XXXXX

A few days earlier, Independence had celebrated Christmas. This had 
been an entirely new concept for the boy and he still didn't quite 
understand what the big fuss was about, even after Sheriff Skinner and 
Maggie Scully and his teacher, Mr Byers, had explained it to him at 
length. When Fox had had to sit through yet another boring sermon in 
church listening to the entire life story of this man called Jesus 
*again* he had almost fallen asleep. He really didn't get why everyone 
was so excited.

Until he discovered the presents.

Fox had heard that people exchanged gifts on Christmas, even though he 
didn't understand why. Now, a birthday was something else entirely, 
even though he figured that actually the child should give his mother 
a gift for giving birth to him, but he didn't mind receiving them in 
her stead. Christmas, however, remained a mystery to him. At least he 
had been forewarned so he had prepared some gifts of his own. Still, 
time had been running out and he had grown desperate. Especially since 
he didn't know if his presents were any good! He didn't have much 
money so he couldn't buy anything special for the people that were 
special to *him*, and he had to make do with what he could come up 
with on his own.

Alex, for example, loved riddles of any kind, so Fox made him a little 
pamphlet full of them; starting with a crossword puzzle that had cost 
him an entire evening to come up with and ending with a short 
whodunnit mystery story he had written himself. His friend almost 
knocked him over with the fierce hug he received, and he had tears of 
joy in his eyes when he discovered that Alex gave him half of his 
beloved, shiny marbles that they both enjoyed playing with. They were 
his new treasure and he carried them with him wherever he went.

Lily was the only person he spent money on. Not knowing what a girl 
might want he had blushingly asked Miss Dana what he could give his 
friend. Miss Dana had given him a very un-lady-like grin before she 
had told him to get Lily something that would make her even prettier. 
Fox seriously doubted that this was possible at all but he had tried 
to find something anyway. In the end he had bought a big bow in the 
darkest blue he had ever seen for her long blonde hair. The 
enthusiastic thank-you-kiss on the cheek he received for that 
convinced Fox that Christmas certainly did have its advantages.

Miss Dana and his Rose gave him a knitted sweater with matching scarf. 
Fox loved his new clothes and decided he wouldn't wear anything else, 
ever again. He gave both ladies pictures he had drawn – a single 
beautiful red rose he had found in a book and copied for Maggie and a 
sketch of Crystal Lake, the one behind Skinner's cabin, for Dana. He 
knew that the redhead had spent a lot of her childhood in and around 
that lake, especially jumping off the forbidden tree, so he had made 
sure to include said tree in the drawing. Skinner hadn't been amused 
when his Rascal had spent hours in the cold outside sketching the lake 
but he had to admit that the boy was incredibly talented and that both 
drawings were exquisite. The women thought along the same lines and 
smothered Fox with hugs and kisses. Now the boy was positive that 
Christmas definitely had its advantages!

The sheriff was an entirely different matter, though. Not only didn't 
Fox have a lot of time to make presents for his friends, but he also 
didn't have one clue what to get the big man. The entire Christmas 
thing was still new to him and he didn't know if there were any rules 
he should be aware of. Then again, he didn't want to run around and 
ask stupid questions – even though the sheriff kept explaining to him 
that there were no stupid questions, only stupid answers. Fox had to 
agree with that; this line was a truly stupid answer in his book.

They had gone back to their cabin after going to church and then 
exchanging gifts with their loved ones, so now it was do or die. Fox 
had racked his brain for a present and had finally come up with a good 
idea but by then time had run out so it wasn't ready yet. He was 
nervous that Skinner would be angry with him for having gifts ready 
for everyone but him, and he bit his lower lip nervously.

Skinner, on the other hand, couldn't wait to give his Rascal the 
present he had made. He was sure that the boy would love the gift so 
he told him to wait for him in the cabin while he retrieved it from 
the woodshed. Fox raised a surprised eyebrow but obeyed, suddenly more 
nervous than ever. Skinner really did have a present for him! And he 
didn't. Not really, anyway. He felt horrible and couldn't help 
blurting out as soon as the sheriff entered the cabin, "I don't have 
anything for you!"

The big man put down what he was carrying and went over to the 
distraught boy who was fighting his tears. Skinner gently hugged him, 
caressing the back of his head. "Listen to me, Rascal," he whispered. 
"Having you here is the best gift I could ever have. That's all that's 
important. You don't have to worry about anything else."

Fox took a shaky breath and wiped the tears away. "Really?" he asked 
doubtfully. How could his being here be considered a gift? The sheriff 
was pretty weird on occasion! When the boy received an affirmative nod 
he gave a tentative smile. "Well, I do have something for you but it's 
not finished yet," he ventured. "Then again, it will never be truly 
finished so I guess I could give it to you now." Fox smiled when he 
saw the sheriff's confused look.

"Well, now I'm curious, Rascal! What is that mysterious half-finished 
present of yours?" the big man asked, smiling when he saw the happy 
grin on the boy's face. He sat down on the couch and watched Fox run 
into his alcove and come back out again a second later with what 
looked like a notebook similar to the one the boy often used during 
his Reflection Time.

"I think this will come in handy on occasion," the boy explained, 
holding the notebook under Skinner's nose with a broad grin on his 
face, the tears on his cheeks forgotten. Maybe this would be fun after 
all, he thought.

The big man slowly took the offered present and looked at it. 
Something was written on its cover – How To Take Care Of Rascals. 
Skinner couldn't help himself, he laughed out loud. He suddenly 
remembered that he had once asked the boy if he would be willing to 
help the sheriff out by telling him some rules about rascals. At the 
time all he had wanted to do was make Fox feel more comfortable in the 
new situation they were both in, and learn a bit more about him in the 
process. He couldn't believe that the boy remembered this talk. And he 
wasn't even surprised when he opened the notebook and read the first 
rule: Never spank your Rascal. Skinner laughed out loud again and 
hugged Fox fiercely. "Thank you so much for this, Rascal. I'm sure 
this will be *very* helpful in future!"

Fox gave a cheeky grin. "As long as you follow the rules," he replied, 
tapping the notebook with his finger.

Skinner turned a page and looked at other rules.

Rule 2: Always give your Rascal lots of waffles.

Rule 3: Never send your Rascal to bed when he's not tired yet.

Rule 4: Always read your Rascal a bedtime story.

Rule 5: Never make your Rascal eat porridge without sugar. It's yucky.

Rule 6: Always let your Rascal spend as much time with horses as he 
wants to.

Rule 7: Never make your Rascal wear suspenders.

Rule 8: Always relinquish a rocking chair to your Rascal.

Skinner's vision suddenly blurred and he had to blink hard and fast to 
keep the tears away. "Thank you, Rascal," he whispered in a husky 
voice. "This is a wonderful gift." Fox stared at the sheriff in 
disbelief.

"Really?" he asked doubtfully. He couldn't believe that Skinner liked 
the notebook. It had been a last minute kind of present, and he only 
wanted to yank the sheriff's chain with the rules because the big man 
kept repeating *his* rules to the boy over and over again. He had 
never guessed that it would make the sheriff all teary-eyed!

The big man nodded again and laid the book aside gently. "Yes," he 
replied with conviction. "And you can take it everytime you want to 
add a rule, Rascal. I'll keep it here on the table so we can both 
enjoy and use it whenever we want to, okay?" Fox nodded, still 
dumb-founded. Skinner smiled and ruffled the boy's hair. "So, you want 
to see your present now?"

The boy nodded vigorously, eyes wide and glowing. A present! Skinner 
had a present for him! He remembered what the big man had given him 
for his birthday – his pony, Spirit – and he couldn't imagine that 
there could be anything remotely as wonderful as that. When he looked 
at the gift Skinner carried over, he frowned. What the heck *was* 
that...that...that thing, anyway??? Fox slowly reached out to take the 
wooden apparatus, desperately trying to figure out what it was.

"I made you a sled, Rascal," Skinner explained. "I hope you like it."

Fox frowned even more. "A...sled?" he asked, non-plussed. He stared at 
the thing but couldn't for the life of him figure out what he was 
supposed to do with it.

Skinner blinked, surprised that the boy apparently had no idea what a 
sled was. "Do you want me to show you how it works?" he asked softly. 
"We have to go outside into the snow," he added, knowing how much the 
boy loved the white powdery stuff. Fox immediately smiled and nodded, 
grabbing the sled with one hand and Skinner's big paw with the other, 
dragging him to the door impatiently.

The big man insisted that they at least wore their coats, scarves and 
mittens, but his Rascal was so excited that he probably wouldn't have 
felt the cold anyway. They walked up the snow-covered hill behind the 
cabin and Skinner put the sled down on the ground, righting it. "Okay, 
Rascal," he said, making sure that there were no obstacles in the way. 
"Sit down and then hold on tight." The boy obeyed, still not entirely 
sure what was supposed to happen, and then felt the sheriff's hands on 
his back, giving him a gentle shove. At first he only slid down the 
hill rather slowly and he asked himself again what the big fuss was 
supposed to be about, until he picked up speed about halfway down the 
slope – and then he understood.

Shrieking with glee, Fox got up from the sled when it stopped at the 
foot of the hill, happily grinning up at the sheriff. "That was 
great," he yelled, running back up the slope. "Can I go faster this 
time?" he asked breathlessly, already sitting back down on his new 
favorite toy.

Skinner smiled, glad that the boy enjoyed his present. "Okay," he 
said. "But be careful. Once you have a feel for the sled I'll show you 
how you can steer it with your feet, okay?"

Fox looked at the big man wide-eyed before he was pushed down the hill 
again, faster this time. The wind was whipping through his abundant 
hair and the powdery snow was softly blowing in his rosy-cheeked face. 
He couldn't help but laugh out loud. This was definitely the best!

"Okay, I'm already good at that. Now show me how to use my feet," he 
demanded when he raced back up to the sheriff. The big man chuckled 
and ruffled the boy's hair.

"Slow down, Rascal. The sled's not going anywhere and it's getting 
dark. Why don't we come back up tomorrow and I'll show you then, 
hmmm?"

"No, I wanna know now!" Fox glared at the sheriff, lower lip 
protruding. He knew that this worked wonders with his Rose and Miss 
Dana. The big man, however, was apparently immune to his pout, 
especially since Skinner crossed his arms over his massive chest and 
raised a warning eyebrow. Fox changed tactics. "Please?" he ventured, 
looking at the big man with wide, hopeful eyes. Skinner sighed, 
obviously disgusted with himself for being so weak, before he 
relented.

"Okay. I'll show you *once*. You can practice your technique 
*tomorrow*. Do we have a deal?"

Fox broke out into a huge grin and nodded. "Yes, sir," he said eagerly 
before he sat down on the sled, listening intently to Skinner's 
instructions.

XXXXX

The next two days were mostly spent on the hill. The boy was 
absolutely in love with the sled and he couldn't wait to get outside 
in the morning. On the third day, he stood next to the cabin's door, 
completely dressed and ready to go, just waiting for the sun to come 
up. He stared out the small window next to the door, willing the first 
rays to show, his nose and one hand pressed against the pane while the 
other hand clenched around his beloved sled. He wouldn't leave the toy 
alone; it had to stay in his alcove at night so he could protect it in 
case someone would want to steal it.

Skinner was glad that sunrise was rather late in winter because that 
way he could at least get a decent breakfast into his Rascal before he 
was gone for the day. He had to admit that the boy was a natural – he 
seemed to be one with everything he did – and he looked like grace in 
motion on the sled. He hoped that Fox would be careful and obey the 
rules about sleds they had talked about (which had prompted the boy to 
add another Rule About Rascals – Never patronize your Rascal about how 
to use a sled ) because he wouldn't be home to keep a watchful eye on 
the boy. He was needed in town but he knew that Alex was coming out to 
play so he hoped that nothing would happen. Alex could be responsible. 
On occasion. If he really wanted to.

"Do you remember what we talked about, Rascal?" Skinner asked while he 
shrugged into his coat. Fox merely rolled his eyes but kept staring 
out the window to make sure he didn't miss the first ray of sunshine. 
"You know where to find me if there's anything wrong, don't you? And I 
want you to go to Maggie's for lunch today. We talked about that, 
remember? I'll meet you there later on." Fox nodded but Skinner wasn't 
sure he had heard a word so he affectionately slapped the boy's butt 
once. Fox gave an indignant squawk and glared at the sheriff. "Did you 
hear what I said?"

"Yes, sir," Fox mumbled, thinking that some contrite politeness was 
the best course of action. Skinner wasn't fooled for a moment so he 
looked at the boy sternly. Then he broke out in a smile and ruffled 
Fox's hair.

"Good. And what's the most important rule of them all, Rascal?" he 
asked, causing Fox to beam happily at the big man. This was sort of a 
ritual and the boy loved this exchange.

"To have lots of fun," he answered, receiving a hug from the sheriff 
in return.

"That's right, Rascal. And you know what happens when you disobey any 
of my rules, right?" Fox giggled and nodded again. Skinner's heart 
swelled at that moment and he ruffled the boy's hair again. "Good. 
Then I can rest assured that you'll have lots of fun?" he asked with a 
mock stern expression.

"Yes, sir," Fox replied solemnly before he broke out into a huge grin 
again.

"Very good. Then get cracking, Rascal, because the sun's come up." 
Skinner pointed out the window and laughed out loud when he saw Fox 
racing through the door as if he had been held captive inside the 
cabin for months.

XXXXX

Fox waved the sheriff good-bye from the top of the hill, watching the 
big man ride in the direction of Independence. As soon as he was sure 
that Skinner couldn't see him anymore, the boy decided to finally try 
out what he had wanted to do for the last two days – ride the sled on 
his front. He put the sled on the ground, laid down on his chest and 
pushed with his feet and hands. Yup, he was right – that was way more 
fun! The boy's nose was only inches away from the snowy ground, and he 
could feel the powdery stuff flying about his face. He was sure that 
Skinner wouldn't approve because that was "too dangerous" though he 
had no idea why. Where was the big difference, anyway? You either sat 
on your butt or laid on your front – the sled couldn't care less! And 
it sure as hell was more fun that way!

Duly encouraged, Fox climbed back up and decided to have another go at 
it. He discovered that the faster he went the more fun it was so, 
after a few tries, he became daring. After climbing the hill he walked 
down the other side about halfway, clutched the sled to his chest and 
ran back up. As soon as he had reached the peak he threw the sled, 
with himself still attached to it, on the ground and raced down the 
hill with a lot more forward momentum than he had ever had up till 
now. He went so fast, in fact, that when he reached the foot of the 
hill, the sled stopped so abruptly that Fox made a somersault and 
landed on his back in a big cloud of snow, laughing hysterically. 
Damn, he had to do that again!

"Are you all right?" a concerned voice broke through the fits of 
laughter. Fox looked up to see his friend Alex staring down at him, 
apparently not entirely sure if the boy on the ground needed medical 
attention or not.

"I never felt better," Fox replied happily, getting up. "You have to 
try this! It's so much fun," he enthused, thrusting his beloved sled 
at his friend. He had told Alex about his present but hadn't been 
allowed to bring it with him into town the day after Christmas when 
they went to have dinner with the Scullys. Alex had been intrigued and 
couldn't wait to see it for himself. Now he was inspecting it closely.

"Sheriff Skinner made this?" he asked, receiving a nod. "All by 
himself?" Another nod. "Just for you?" Fox nodded again, feeling 
pretty damn good about that fact. "Wow," was all Alex could say. "It 
sure looks beautiful." To him, the sled looked like a very small table 
with cut-off legs attached to two thin, straight runners that 
beautifully curled up at the front of the sled. The plain looking seat 
had – which Fox had only discovered a day after Christmas – 'Rascal' 
carved into the underside. The wood was expertly crafted, smoothed and 
cared for. Skinner had obviously spent a large amount of time creating 
that sled. "And I can try it out?" Alex asked hesitantly.

"Of course! You're my friend! We share everything, right?" Fox 
replied, tugging the other boy with him towards the hill. "I'll show 
you how this works," he said before he gave his friend the same 
instructions the sheriff had told him only a few days before.

Soon Alex had just as much fun with the sled as Fox had, and he even 
dared to race downhill lying on his front several times. They both 
used the sled at the same time though it was a bit too small for two 
growing boys so they ended up tangled in the snow, but that made it 
all the more fun for them. Finally, there was only one thing left to 
be said.

"I think it's too bad that we always have to carry the sled back 
uphill," Alex complained. "Isn't there another way?"

Fox thought about that for a moment. "We could tie a long rope to it 
and then pull it back up," he offered but Alex shook his head.

"So what? You'd still have to climb the hill, stupid," he replied.

"Hmm, that might be true. But we could still try it. One of us sits on 
the sled while the other is pulling him around the yard! That way we 
don't need the silly hill," Fox exclaimed, a big grin on his face. It 
was obvious that he regarded himself as being the one on the sled.

"Where's the fun in that? Nobody can run that fast. It's more fun 
racing down the hill," Alex argued, shaking his head again.

Fox thought some more, letting his eyes roam the landscape. His gaze 
fell on Spirit who was standing in the pasture, still refusing to go 
inside the stable, watching the boys with a mixture of curiosity and 
aloofness. "What if we use a horse?" Fox suggested, eyes gleaming in 
the midday sun.

"Are you out of your mind?" Alex yelled, realizing where this was 
heading. "That's too dangerous, Fox. You can't use Spirit for 
something like this. He's wild. The sheriff will tan our hides when he 
finds out!"

"*If* he finds out," Fox argued, waggling a finger knowingly. "Spirit 
is a good boy. He'll take good care of us."

"No, Fox," Alex said adamantly. "Not with me. This is too dangerous. 
You just can't-" He stopped in mid-sentence when he realized that Fox 
was ignoring him, walking to the stable, obviously looking for a rope 
of some kind. Alex cursed. "Just great," he muttered to himself. "All 
I wanted to do was have a little innocent fun in the snow, and here he 
goes again getting me into trouble. Why am I falling for that every 
single time, anyway? Damn, you're so stupid, Alex."

"Got it," Fox yelled from a few feet away, happily waving an old lasso 
over his head. "Stay away a little so you won't spook Spirit, okay?" 
he added, walking to the fence.

"As if I'd come close to that animal," Alex groused under his breath, 
retreating to the porch and sitting down on it. He saw Fox climbing 
the fence, talking to Spirit and then guiding him out into the yard. 
Alex's mouth fell open. Fox hadn't used the lasso – Spirit was merely 
following the other boy, like an eager puppy heeling his master. When 
Fox took a step to the right, so did Spirit. When Fox stopped, so did 
Spirit. His friend turned to pat his beloved horse and give him a kiss 
on the nose before he bent and tied the lasso around the curled-up 
ends of the sled's runners. Then he positioned a sweet-tempered Spirit 
in front of the sled and looped the lasso around his neck.

"Well, that's it," Fox announced happily, waving Alex near. "You wanna 
go first?"

"I sure as hell won't sit down on that thing now," Alex replied though 
he took a few steps closer. "And I promise you that I'll personally 
rat on you when you get your butt near the sled!"

"Spoilsport," Fox grinned, flopping down on the seat. Spirit tensed 
but didn't move. Alex almost had a heart attack.

"Please, Fox, I mean it. This is dangerous. Don't do this to me. Get 
off," he begged.

"What's different to a normal carriage?" Fox argued, grabbing the rope 
to gently tug on it.

"The fact that Spirit has never done this before?" Alex countered 
angrily. He couldn't believe that his friend was so dense on purpose.

"Watch and learn, you chicken," was all Fox had to say about *that* 
before he gave his horse a command in a language Alex didn't 
understand. Spirit dutifully began to canter around the yard, pulling 
Fox along. The boy grinned happily. "This is fun, Alex, you really 
should try it," he exclaimed, urging Spirit to move faster.

Alex watched helplessly as the sled picked up speed steadily. Fox held 
on fast but almost lost his balance several times when Spirit changed 
directions. The horse seemed to know that what they did was dangerous 
because he kept looking back to the boy on the sled, making sure he 
was still sitting there, but nevertheless Fox had a hard time holding 
on. Alex didn't want to jump in front of Spirit and try to stop the 
horse because he knew that this would put not only himself but also 
Fox in danger. The only thing he could do was try and talk his friend 
out of it – but Fox was having too much fun to listen to him.

When Spirit ran towards the hill, Alex couldn't take it anymore. "Fox, 
dammit, I'll go and get Sheriff Skinner if you don't stop right now," 
he yelled desperately. He didn't want to leave his friend alone in 
case something happened and he had to help but he couldn't think of 
anything else anymore.

"What for, Alex?" came a deep voice from behind him, causing Alex to 
jump. He turned around to see Skinner sitting on Buck, frowning. "I 
knew you boys were having too much fun in the snow. You forgot the 
time, didn't you? That's why I came to get you. Maggie's waiting with 
lunch, and I'm sure your father-" The big man stopped when he saw the 
boy's scared face. "What is it, Alex?" he asked gently, dismounting 
and walking over to the distraught boy. He followed the outstretched 
hand pointing at the hill and almost had a heart attack when he saw 
Spirit racing down the hill at full speed, pulling the sled behind 
him. "Where's William?" he asked, looking around frantically. He 
couldn't believe that Fox would let his horse run free. And what was 
the sled doing at the end of the rope?

Alex started sobbing and ran towards the hill. "He was on that sled," 
he cried. Skinner blanched and ran after him, Spirit momentarily 
forgotten. The horse, however, seemed to realize that something was 
wrong because he stopped, turned around and cantered back to the hill 
behind the sheriff.

At that moment, Fox was slowly crawling over the top of the hill. 
"That was fun," he wheezed, grinning broadly. "Alex, you really gotta 
try this out yourself." His grin disappeared when he saw the sheriff 
climbing the hill. He looked down at himself, hoping that he wasn't 
bleeding anywhere. The fall hadn't been that hard; the snow had 
cushioned most of it, but he still looked a little worse for wear.

"Are you all right?" Alex asked when he came to a skidding halt next 
to his friend, looking at him critically. Before Fox could answer the 
sheriff was standing only inches away, grabbing him by the upper arms, 
turning him this way and that.

"Are you hurt, Rascal? Are you okay?" the big man asked, looking at 
the boy closely.

"I'm fine," Fox replied, trying to twist out of the sheriff's grasp, 
knowing what he had coming.

"Thank goodness," Skinner murmured, enveloping the boy in a bear hug. 
"If something had happened to you..." He couldn't even bring himself 
to say it out loud, so he merely shook the boy for effect before he 
slapped his butt hard. Fox yelped. "Damn fool thing to do, Rascal! 
What were you thinking?" He stared at the boy. "No, don't tell me. You 
obviously weren't thinking." He gave him another swat before he hugged 
him again fiercely. "I'm just glad you're okay," he whispered in the 
boy's snow-soaked hair.

Fox perked up at that. "Does that mean you won't punish me?" he 
ventured cautiously. Skinner held him at arm's length and roared with 
laughter.

"Yeah, I just bet you'd love that, wouldn't you? No, I'm sorry, young 
man, but you really did it this time." Skinner turned to Alex who had 
been watching the scene in front of him with wide eyes. "Would you do 
me a favor, Alex?" he asked, receiving a tentative nod. "Please go and 
let Maggie Scully know that we'll be a bit later than we thought. I'm 
sorry for the inconvenience but I'm sure she'll understand once she 
hears what has happened." He smiled ruefully.

Alex nodded. "I'm sorry this happened, sir," he mumbled and was 
surprised when he felt two strong arms lifting him up, hugging him.

"You tried to stop him, Alex, I know you did. And I also know it's 
almost impossible to do that once that boy has his mind set on 
something. I thank you for trying your best. Now go and run along." 
Skinner gave Alex another squeeze before he sent him off with a swat 
to the butt. The boy gave his friend one last, uncertain smile before 
he raced towards town.

"And you," Skinner turned to Fox. "You will take care of your horse 
and then bring the sled inside. I'll be waiting for you with yet 
another little present I made for you. Rest assured you won't like 
it." And with that, the sheriff turned on his heel and walked to the 
woodshed.

XXXXX

When Fox entered the cabin a few minutes later he saw Skinner sitting 
at the small table near the kitchen. On the table was something that 
looked like...

"Yes, it's a paddle, Rascal. While I was working on your sled I found 
this piece of wood that just begged to be made into a paddle. So, here 
it is. I hoped I wouldn't need to use it anytime soon but I guess I 
should've known better." The big man sighed and got up. "I think you 
know what comes next, don't you, Rascal?"

Fox swallowed hard, then sighed and nodded. He shrugged out of his 
outer layer of clothing before stopping in front of the sheriff. "I'm 
really sorry," he said contritely.

"Are you really?" Skinner replied, gently running the back of his hand 
over the boy's cheek. "I told you how many times that you weren't 
allowed to pull any dangerous stunts? I didn't even think anybody 
would come up with such an idea! Using Spirit like that!" Skinner 
shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you did that, Rascal. 
Did you seriously think this wasn't part of the 'no dangerous stunts' 
rule?"

"I didn't think you'd find out," Fox snapped angrily. As soon as he 
had said it he wished he could take it back. Biting nervously on his 
lip, he looked up at the sheriff through his lashes. The big man did 
definitely not look happy.

"Really?" Skinner asked, very mildly. "Then what *did* you think?"

Fox eyed the strong arms crossed over the broad chest, realizing that 
the muscles in said right arm would soon be getting a work-out on his 
butt. He winced. "I guess I wasn't thinking," he replied softly, 
realizing that the sheriff was right. It had been at least potentially 
dangerous. He knew Spirit wouldn't hurt him but he still had fallen 
off the sled when the horse had made a sharp turn on the lakeside of 
the hill. And what if Alex had tried to stop Spirit? What would've 
happened to his friend then? Fox blanched, suddenly understanding just 
how dangerous all of this had been. "I'm sorry," he repeated, this 
time truly meaning it.

Skinner saw the change in the boy's demeanor and nodded his approval. 
He locked eyes with Fox and said, "I don't want to lose you, Rascal. 
Don't you *ever* do anything like this, ever again, you hear?" The boy 
nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. Skinner sighed softly and opened 
his arms, welcoming his Rascal as he threw himself in the waiting 
embrace. The sheriff caressed the back of the boy's head gently. "You 
do know that you still have to be punished though, don't you, Rascal?"

"Yes, sir," came the muffled reply. Fox wiped his tear-streaked face 
on Skinner's shirt before looking up at the big man. "But...couldn't 
you...maybe...with your hand...?" he ventured softly.

It almost broke Skinner's heart but he had to go through with it. 
"No," he replied just as softly. "I've decided to always use the 
paddle from now on when you endanger yourself or others needlessly, 
Rascal. And I think what you did was a prime example of that, don't 
you?"

Fox sighed but nodded. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, slowly and despondently 
pulling his pants down.

"I want you to bend over the table," Skinner instructed, still talking 
in soft tones. "I know you've never been paddled before so I'll take 
this under account," he promised. Fox guessed this was supposed to 
ease the tension though he failed to see any positive results. He 
simply nodded and draped his lanky frame across the table, naked butt 
hanging over the edge.

Damn but that paddle looked huge up close, he thought staring at the 
implement which lay innocently in front of his nose. It was long but 
not very wide – though it sure as hell would be able to cover both his 
butt cheeks with one smack easily. Skinner's hand was pretty big, too, 
but at least it wasn't *that* big! Fox sighed again, feeling utterly 
sorry for himself.

Skinner grabbed the paddle and took up position. "I want you to think 
about all the things that could've happened, Rascal. I want you to 
think about Alex. I want you to think about yourself. I want you to 
think about me and Maggie and everybody else who would be very 
saddened if anything had happened to you. I want you to think about 
Spirit if he had stumbled over the rope and broken a leg."

Fox was so stunned by this little speech that the first blow with the 
paddle surprised the hell out of him. Damn, that hurt! His entire 
posterior exploded into red-hot fire the moment the wooden paddle 
connected with it and he let out a strangled yelp. Fox was certain 
that Skinner held back – he knew the big man was stronger than that – 
but the paddle had a mighty whack and his butt surely paid the price 
for his recklessness now.

The boy grabbed the edge of the table to keep himself in position 
while he desperately counted the number of slaps he received. Tears 
were running down his cheeks and he began to beg Skinner to stop – 
which he rarely did. In some part of his mind Fox realized that he was 
less distraught by the punishment itself but more by the fact that he 
had endangered his horse, his friend and, most importantly, himself. 
He hadn't thought his actions through and once again, he was punished 
for that. Maybe he would actually learn to use what Skinner 
affectionately referred to as his "smart brains" every once in a while 
now. That vicious paddle sure made him consider that option!

After ten hard smacks Skinner lowered the paddle, rubbing soothing 
circles on the boy's back. "It's okay, Rascal. I'm done. You were very 
brave," he mumbled gently, accepting the crying boy into his arms when 
Fox flung himself at the sheriff. They stood like this for several 
minutes until Fox slowly calmed down. Skinner looked him in the eyes. 
"I want you to stand in your corner for half an hour, Rascal. Think 
about what you did wrong and what you should have done. Think about 
the waffles you could be eating now," he added with a half-smile.

Fox made a face. Damn! Maggie's waffles! "Do you think she'll make 
them for me when we get there?" he asked nervously.

Skinner laughed and ruffled the boy's hair. "Knowing Maggie she'll let 
you skip the meal and stuff you with nothing *but* waffles," he 
replied. Fox couldn't help but giggle and readily shuffled into his 
corner. "And Rascal?" Skinner added, causing Fox to turn back around. 
"You can pull up your pants. I know I said that you should normally 
keep them around your ankles but it's too cold for that." Fox nodded 
and obeyed gratefully. The fire had almost gone out and the cabin was 
rather chilly.

The sheriff busied himself stoking the fire again, then walked into 
the kitchen to wet a cloth, using it to gently wipe the boy's 
tear-streaked face. Fox smiled at the big man, thanking him silently, 
knowing he wasn't allowed to talk while standing in the corner. 
Skinner winked and ruffled his hair again before he sat down in the 
rocking chair and read in his book.

XXXXX

Fox sighed. Those stupid "ten more minutes" just *had* to be over by 
now! He ventured another look over his shoulder, startled to realize 
that Skinner was standing behind him. "Getting antsy, Rascal?" Skinner 
chuckled. "Okay, you can come out of your corner now." The boy sighed 
happily and walked to the big man, ready to receive his 'all is 
forgiven' hug. Skinner kept his arms crossed over his chest though, 
and Fox hesitated, suddenly nervous. "There's something else, Rascal," 
the sheriff began in serious tones. "I will confiscate your sled for a 
week." He held up his hand when he saw the boy opening his mouth in 
protest. "You've shown me that you can't act responsibly with your toy 
so I'm taking it away for a while, as part of your punishment. Other 
than that, you've paid the price and we're even. In a week, I'll give 
you back your sled, and you can enjoy the snow again." Skinner walked 
over to the door where Fox had deposited his treasured sled. "Tell me, 
Rascal, do you think this part of the punishment is justified and 
fair?" the sheriff asked, clearly wanting to know.

It was so easy. Fox struggled with himself, knowing that he might have 
a chance of keeping his sled if he pleaded his case. But deep down he 
knew the sheriff was right. After a long minute he bit his lip and 
sighed. "Yes, sir, the punishment is justified and fair," he answered 
softly, staring at the floor so Skinner couldn't see his tear-filled 
eyes.

"Good boy," Skinner said softly. "I'll go and bring the sled into the 
woodshed now. Get yourself ready so we can ride to Maggie and her 
waffles, okay?" He waited until he saw Fox nodding his head before he 
left the cabin.

The boy sighed but knew that he had done the right thing. And anyway, 
there were other things he could do the next week. He didn't need the 
silly old sled to have fun! He had those beautiful marbles Alex had 
given him! And he could still play in the snow! And help Maggie, or 
Miss Dana in the store, or even Skinner in his office! Nah, the sled 
was nice and all but not *that* important...!

Fox sighed again and walked to his coat, but the sight of the paddle 
on the table distracted him. He walked over to it and cautiously took 
it in his right hand, inspecting it closely. The paddle was heavier 
than he had thought, the wood smooth and straight. The boy turned it 
this way and that, swinging it through the air, imagining how it would 
feel to paddle the sheriff...and then he discovered something that 
made him laugh out loud.

Skinner cautiously entered the cabin, not entirely sure how well Fox 
had really taken the last part of his punishment. So he was positively 
surprised to see the boy waiting for him at the door, arms expectantly 
held up wide. The sheriff smiled and opened his own arms, accepting 
the bone-crushing hug the boy gave him. "All forgiven, Rascal," he 
assured Fox, lifting him off the ground for a long moment before he 
released him with an affectionate squeeze.

"Forgiven," Fox echoed, nodding solemnly. Then he smiled broadly. "And 
now I want some waffles," he informed the big man.

The sheriff laughed out loud. "How come you're not ready yet, then?" 
he asked, looking pointedly at the boy who still wasn't wearing his 
coat. Or his scarf. Or his mittens, for that matter.

"I, uh, I was busy," Fox mumbled, quickly grabbing his coat. Skinner 
raised a suspicious eyebrow. Then his eyes fell on the open notebook 
on the table. Curiosity peaked, he walked over to see that Fox had 
added another new rule:

Never carve 'Rascal' in a paddle you make.

Skinner gave a belly laugh and chased his giggling Rascal outside.



THE END OF CHAPTER 11.


Feedback always welcomed! gaby@gaby.slashcity.tv