Author's Notes: So shoot me. I just don't *do* titles, okay? LOL! But I like the band ("November Rain" rules! ) and the title says what the chapter is about, so... Deal with it, folks! 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: CC lost ownership by default. I now officially claim the characters. My addy is: gaby@gaby.slashcity.tv My home is at: http://gaby.slashcity.tv Summary: Fox learns that every Rose has her thorns...and secrets... INDEPENDENCE by Gaby Chapter 12 – Guns 'n Roses Fox missed his Old Meanie. The sheriff had left four days ago, and the boy was growing antsy. At first it had been a lot of fun, or so Fox thought, living with his Rose. But the reality of it looked much bleaker. Skinner was leading a posse trying to apprehend a gang of bank robbers, and there was only one person the big man trusted enough to take care of his Rascal. And that was Maggie Scully. It had all happened very quickly. Fox was sitting in school, minding his own business – in this case trying to come up with a prank that would get Donkey Donny in trouble – when there were shots echoing through town. The children all ran outside before their teacher, Mr Byers, was able to stop them and they watched a gang of three masked men jump on horses and race out of Independence. The town's banker, oblivious to his bleeding headwound, was yelling hysterically at Skinner who came running down Main Street with his gun drawn. The sheriff told the banker to go see the doctor, barked out several orders and called a few townsmen he wanted in his posse. Then he turned around, saw all the children standing around down the street and ran to his rascal. The boy looked up at him apprehensively. "Those were bad men," Fox mumbled. "They hurt innocent people." "I know, Rascal. And they stole a whole lot of money." The boy flinched slightly, remembering that he had once spent a night in jail because he, too, had stolen, if not money so at least food and a blanket from his now beloved Scully ladies. "That's why I have to go and find them. The townspeople need their money and we want justice to be done." Skinner smiled at the boy reassuringly. "But I don't want you to go. They will shoot you," Fox argued, close to tears. "I promise I'll be careful, Rascal. Have I ever broken a promise?" The sheriff locked eyes with the boy, willing him to understand. After a long moment, Fox shook his head. "See? And I won't break this promise either. But it's my job to catch bad people, Rascal. I have to go." Byers watched the scene in front of him and realized that the sheriff could use some privacy, so he silently herded the other children back into the school building. Skinner gave him a nod of thanks and squatted down to look at Fox again. "I'll miss you, Rascal, but at least now I have a good reason to come home to, don't I?" He smiled warmly and felt his heart swell when the boy looked up at him with wide eyes. "You do?" Fox whispered, not believing what he had heard. "Absolutely. I couldn't just let you run free...you'd be ruling this town in two days flat!" The sheriff grinned broadly and ruffled the boy's hair. "Yeah! And Alex would help me," Fox agreed, giggling happily at that thought. Skinner groaned dramatically. "Oh dear. No, can't let that happen. Guess I gotta come back here safe and sound then, huh?" "Yeah," Fox whispered, sober again. He stared at the ground for a long moment, then threw himself at the big man, burrowing his face in the sheriff's broad chest. Skinner wrapped his arms reassuringly around the slender boy and rocked him soothingly back and forth. Over the dark head, he could see Maggie Scully standing in front of her house, obviously also wondering what the commotion that been about. "Rascal, I want you to listen to me closely for a moment," Skinner began, holding the boy at arm's length. "You'll stay with Maggie until I come back, all right? I don't want you to stay in the cabin all by yourself. I'm sure Maggie would love to have you for a few days. What do you think?" Fox thought about that for a moment and then nodded enthusiastically. That sounded like a pretty decent plan. He was already coming up with all kinds of opportunities that were bound to present themselves... Unfortunately, reality turned out to be much more mundane. Skinner had talked to Maggie, who had readily agreed to take the boy in. He made Fox promise to behave himself, then sent him back to school before he went and packed a bag for himself and Fox. He brought the necessary things to Maggie, thanked her again profusely and rode off after the gang not an hour after the robbery had happened. Fox couldn't believe his luck. Sure, he was scared that something bad would happen to his Old Meanie, but he knew that the big man was capable of taking care of himself so he didn't worry too much. And even better, he was going to live with his beloved Rose! That meant lots of waffles day and night! That meant spending lots of quality time with Miss Dana! That meant lots of playing time with Alex and not having to worry about being home late because he didn't have to run all the way out to the cabin! That meant less rules to follow because his Rose wasn't as stern as his Old Meanie! All things considered, that bank robbery was one of the best things that had ever happened to him! Until, of course, he remembered that not only Miss Dana but also Evil Bill was living with Maggie. That his Rose wasn't as forgiving as the sheriff was when it came to homework that was sloppily done. That his Rose thought a growing boy needed lots of healthy food which was served on fine china; not only did Fox hate some of the stuff he had to eat – he much preferred the simple dishes the sheriff came up with, 'good grub' the big man always called it – but he was always scared to break one of the delicate plates. Waffles were nowhere in sight. And all that praying! Fox still didn't get the whole going-to-church thing everyone in town was doing, and he knew that Maggie insisted on a prayer before each meal though he normally got around that because he mostly ate a few waffles on the go when he spent an afternoon at her house. Skinner couldn't be bothered to 'say grace', as Maggie called it, and the boy was happy about that. Fox still remembered the first time she had asked him to say 'grace', and how Evil Bill had almost fallen off his chair laughing so hard when Fox, not knowing any better, had done exactly that – he had said, "grace." After that, Maggie knew that the boy didn't know too much about prayers, but that didn't keep her from insisting on that 'grace' stuff. Fox hated it. The boy also realized that Maggie insisted on his doing his homework as soon as he came home. Usually, when he just spent the afternoons with her, waiting for the sheriff to pick him up, Fox was allowed to go out and play with his friends first. Maggie thought Skinner would take care of the homework. That was mostly true; the sheriff usually checked if the homework was done or supervised the boy when he still had some to do. However, the big man never really sat down and looked too closely – Maggie, however, insisted on checking every line the boy wrote, every math problem he had solved. And she insisted on his doing the homework again when she found a mistake. Fox hated that more than anything. Though he had to admit to himself, the absolutely worst thing of them all was the fact that he didn't have anyone he could snuggle up to. True, Maggie gave him lots of hugs and cuddles, but Fox didn't really want to look like a baby when Miss Dana or Evil Bill were close, and that happened a lot. Maggie also read him a story before bedtime but the boy actually had to be in bed – she refused to read to him in the sitting room, in front of the fire, because she wasn't strong enough to carry him upstairs into the small room he occupied. And Fox had a tendency to fall asleep when he was being read to. That was what Fox missed the most. Being snuggled up against his Old Meanie's broad chest, wrapped up in his strong arms, curled up on the big man's lap, slowly rocking back and forth in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace, listening to that dark voice reading a story to him. There was no doubt that he felt loved in Maggie's arms. But in his Old Meanie's arms, Fox felt loved and safe. XXXXX Fox stood at the window of the small room that was his during his stay at Maggie's house, gazing at the blue sky. It promised to be a beautiful day and the boy hoped that he'd be allowed to spend a few hours outside. He hated being cooped up in the house all day, especially when there was wonderful weather waiting for him. Usually, he wasn't allowed to leave town unattended – the sheriff had made that a standing rule after a few mishaps in regard to the lake, the caves and the hill behind the cabin – but before Skinner had left to catch the bank robbers, he and Maggie had agreed to let Fox go to the cabin once a day to take care of Spirit. The little horse was still so wild that it would have been impossible to bring him to the livery stable; only Fox was able to get close to the beast. So the boy visited Spirit every day, making sure his friend had enough fresh water and feed. Maybe Rose will let me stay with Spirit for a few hours today, Fox hoped. All I have to do is be extra nice and well behaved. I'm bored out of my mind. "Fox, dear, are you ready?" Maggie called from downstairs. The boy sighed. It was Sunday. Time to go to church. Swell. "I'm coming, Rose," he replied, grabbing his coat. From the look of things it promised to be a rather warm day. It was only the end of January but it was surprisingly warm for that time of year. The snow had already melted and when it was a clear day with lots of sunshine, it was even warm enough to run around without a coat on. As long as you didn't let yourself be caught by an adult, that is. Fox ran downstairs and gave Maggie a wide smile, cranking up his charms. He wouldn't even be allowed to go spend some quality time with Alex because Sam Krycek, the boy's father, was suffering from a bad case of cold, so he relied on his son's help at home and in the livery stable. Fox had offered his help at first but Sam didn't want to get anyone else sick as well. The only other way to spend the day was to sit around Maggie's house – with Evil Bill. And Fox really wanted to prevent that particular nightmare from coming true! So, visiting Spirit it was. "Rose?" the boy asked tentatively when the entire Scully family and he walked down Main Street to the church. "May I go and play with Spirit this afternoon? I'm sure he misses me some fierce and it's such a beautiful day and since I'd be at the cabin anyway I could clean it up a little so the sheriff won't get mad and..." He trailed off when Maggie started to laugh out loud. "Oh, I'm sure that cleaning the cabin is the real reason why you want to go, isn't it, Fox?" she chuckled, winking at the boy. "I know it's hard for you right now. You don't like being in town. You need space to run around and you didn't have enough of that lately. I understand that, dear. If you promise me to behave yourself and be back by five o'clock you may go visit Spirit." Fox almost gave a triumphant crow but Maggie shushed him. "I mean it, Fox," she continued sternly. "Be on time. There's a clock in the cabin, so use it wisely. Also, you will promise me to abide by the rules. Which are?" She looked at him expectantly. The boy sighed. "Stay away from the lake, especially the tree. Don't climb on top of the cabin's roof." Fox made a face. Stupid sheriff. He wasn't supposed to find out about *that*! "Stay away from the woodshed. Don't go near the caves. Be careful around Spirit." The boy looked at Maggie pleadingly. "But Spirit doesn't do anything. He loves me," he argued. "Doesn't matter. Those are the rules, Fox. That horse is still wild. It's reassuring to know that he behaves himself when you're around but I still don't want you playing with him when nobody's near. You can sit on the fence and talk to him or pat him. Everything else is not allowed." She gave the boy a stern look. "You know who made these rules." "Yeah, the sheriff," Fox muttered, kicking the dirt with the toe of his right shoe. "Why isn't he coming back?" he whined pitifully. "Shouldn't he be back by now?" "He probably just wants a few days away from you, toad," Evil Bill piped up, earning himself a glare from Miss Dana and a stern reprimand from his mother. The man wasn't fazed at all. "I'm sure he caught the bank robbers on the first day already, but he can't bring himself to come home right away again. Skinner obviously prefers to spend a few days in the company of criminals than to come back and take care of *you*," he finished, his face mere inches away from the boy's. Fox felt his eyes fill with tears. He didn't want to believe what Evil Bill had said but he knew that Skinner was a smart man, and the bank robbers only had an hour on him. Maybe Evil Bill was right. The sheriff had been very stern lately, punishing the boy for every misdeed. He always argued that 'that is the job of a Pa' but somehow Fox could now see the logic behind Evil Bill's accusations. Skinner had never lost patience with the boy, he had always been loving and caring. But maybe he did need a break from it all...maybe it all was too much for a man who was used to living alone, not having to take care of a runaway who only causes trouble... Fox swallowed hard and willed the tears to go away. He wanted to defend his Old Meanie but somehow he was sure that his voice would crack when he said something now and he didn't want to give Evil Bill that satisfaction. Maggie Scully hugged the boy fiercely and forced the tears away by sheer will. "Oh, dear, I'm sure he's doing his best to catch the bank robbers and come home as fast as he can. Don't worry, I'm sure he's fine." Maggie shot his son another murderous look before she turned to Fox, ruffled the boy's hair soothingly and gave him a peck on his cheek. "We'll pray for his safe return, won't we?" she added cheerfully while they climbed the steps to the church. Fox sighed forlornly. Oh. Great. More prayers. XXXXX The good part was that he could get out of his 'good' clothes. Fox had wanted to run to the cabin right after the service but Maggie put her foot down and told the boy in no uncertain terms that he was to accompany her back home first. There, he changed into his jeans and the sweater Maggie and Miss Dana had given him for Christmas, sending a quick 'thank-you' prayer that he got rid of the hated suspenders. Fox was almost out of the door, yelling a happy, "See you at five," when Maggie called him back. The boy sighed. The way things were going he wouldn't leave the house until five to five! "Fox, dear, I want you to go upstairs to my bedroom. There's a small black bag at the bottom of my chest. Please bring it to me, okay?" Maggie told the boy, herding him back to the stairs. He frowned, asking himself why the hell she couldn't go get the damned bag herself or send her idiotic son to find it, but decided to play nice and obey. Who knew what kind of punishment his Rose would come up with for a smart mouth. Fox knew what his Old Meanie's reaction would be and he really didn't like that one. Not one bit. So, Fox trudged back upstairs, his mind already coming up with all kinds of fun things to do while he was at the cabin, visiting his beloved Spirit. He didn't even stop to think when he entered Maggie's bedroom – he went straight to the chest of drawers and opened the bottom drawer. Realizing what he had done, Fox snorted in disbelief, shaking his head when he realized just how badly he was daydreaming, and closed the drawer again. Then he looked around, found the chest Maggie had talked about and walked over to it. Just when he was about to open the heavy lid, something occurred to him and he went back to the chest of drawers. Swallowing nervously, he reached out a trembling hand and re-opened the bottom drawer. What he saw there made him gasp out loud. He couldn't believe what he had accidently found. His gun. The gun he had been searching for high and low, for several months now. He had looked in Skinner's office and in the cabin. The first thing he had done when the sheriff had left to find the bank robbers, was to closely search the woodshed because that was the only other place where the gun could have been hidden. Fox had never, in a million years, thought that Maggie had his gun. She must have had it all along. Hidden in her own home. Without telling him anything about it. Fox was furious. And hurt. He slowly took the gun in his hand, caressing the smooth metal as well as the butt that was made out of shiny mother of pearl. How he had missed this gun! It was the only thing he had truly owned when he had arrived in Independence all those months ago, and he had mourned for it every day since the sheriff had taken it from him. He could understand the reasoning behind it; he knew that he had to pay his debt so the gun was kept as security, he knew that Skinner didn't want him to run around with a gun, he knew that the big man must have thought the gun was also stolen property. For the longest time Fox had searched for his gun, knowing that he couldn't leave Independence to look for his sister without having that treasure near. And now he had found it, by accident. The boy cradled the gun to his chest, feeling tears well up in his eyes. After months of working in the Scully store as well as helping Skinner out by fetching food for prisoners or delivering telegrams, Fox had saved quite a bit of money. He and the sheriff always wrote down every cent he earned in a small notebook; the big man had even given him a small wooden box to keep the money in. Fox loved to sit at the small table in the cabin, placing all his coins in a row, counting them, polishing them, then counting them again. It filled him with pride to see how hard he had worked to get so much money. Fox was sure he had enough to tie him over when he started the search for his sister. The only thing that had kept him from going had been the freezingly cold weather – which had turned into a rather mild, almost Spring like warmth – and the fact that he didn't have his gun. The gun he had now found. There was no reason at all not to grab the gun, run to the cabin to get his money and leave. It would be the perfect opportunity, with the sheriff gone. That way he would have an advantage. Heck, it had been four days and the big man still hadn't found the bank robbers who, with all due respect, didn't look like they knew what they were doing. Fox knew how to disappear if he really wanted to. Skinner had turned his butt pretty warm on more than one occasion when Fox had sulked and decided to just vanish into thin air. If he left now, they would never find him. Perfect timing. "Fox, did you find the bag?" The boy jumped, completely startled out of his reverie. Bag? What bag? He had already opened his mouth to automatically reply, 'no, but I found my gun' before he caught himself at the last moment. Damn. "Yes, Rose. Just a second. I'll be right down." Fox stared at his gun still clutched in his hands. Perfect timing. Perfect opportunity. A single tear dropped on the smooth metal, causing the rays of sun that shone through the window to reflect in every color of the rainbow. So pretty, Fox thought forlornly, first wiping his eyes and then cleaning the gun with the sleeve of his sweater. "I'm glad I now know that you're at a safe place," he whispered to the gun. "I'll come and visit you again soon," Fox promised, carefully putting it back where he had found it. "But we can't leave yet. My Old Meanie still needs me." He took a deep shuddering breath, closed the drawer and went over to the chest again. The bag was easy enough to find. Fox wiped his face one last time, just to make sure that nobody saw he had been crying, and ran downstairs where Maggie greeted him with a wrapped sandwich, two apples and a thick slice of cheese. "Here you go, Fox," she smiled at the boy, stuffing the provisions in the bag. "That's easier to carry, isn't it?" Fox stared at her with wide eyes. Maggie laughed out loud. "Oh, come on, dear, I know how much you growing boys like to eat. You wouldn't last until supper if you didn't have something to nibble on." She gave the boy a loving pat on the butt. "Now run along and have fun with Spirit, okay?" Fox stared at his Rose in total disbelief for another moment before he gave her a wide smile. Grabbing his coat as well as the bag, he ran outside with only one thought in mind: He had made the right decision. XXXXX Fox ran towards the cabin, hearing his horse whinnying from afar. Spirit seemed to sense the boy because he was waiting at the fence, prancing nervously, before Fox had even entered the yard. "Hi, Spirit," the boy greeted his friend happily, throwing the bag with the goodies and his coat on the ground before he jumped over the fence to pat the horse's strong neck. "Did you miss me?" Spirit nodded his head before gently butting his nose against the boy's chest. Fox giggled. "Yeah, I missed you, too," he sighed. "I'm sorry that I can't spend more time with you while I stay at the Scully place. But guess what? Rose allowed me to stay and play with you for a few hours, isn't that great?" Fox grinned happily and caressed his friend's velvety nose. "So, what do you say we get you something to snack on, hmm?" The boy went over to the gate that led into the stable and opened it. There seemed to be enough fresh water in the trough outside, so he only busied himself with an armful of hay and some oats. Spirit stood in the open gateway, his head in the stable but refusing to actually enter the shed, watching his little human friend closely. Fox giggled when he saw his horse. "Don't you trust me?" he scolded with a smile. "This is good for you. Come on!" The boy led the horse to the feeding crib outside and dumped the goodies in it. "How's that?" The horse came closer, sniffed at the feed and then turned to give Fox a leveling look. "What?" The boy stared back, an innocent look on his face. "This is what the sheriff would call 'good grub', Spirit." The horse shook his head adamantly and stared at the boy again, daring him to eat the 'good grub' since he seemed to love it so much. Fox sighed. "Since when are you so choosy?" he grumbled before he remembered something and his face lit up. "Oh, I think I have the perfect treat for you," he exclaimed, jumping over the fence again. The boy grabbed the two apples Maggie had given him and straddled the fence. "Friends share, don't they?" he smiled while he offered one of the apples to the horse. Spirit readily came closer and munched on the fruit. Fox watched his horse for a long moment, taking a hearty bite out of his own apple. "You won't believe what I found today," he began. "Remember the gun I told you about? Well, I found it. It was hidden in Rose's chest of drawers!" Spirit looked up from the remains of his apple which he had spit on the ground. Fox nodded savagely. "Oh yeah! I know, I probably wouldn't believe it either. But there it was. Beautiful as ever." The boy sighed and took another bite out of his apple. Spirit moved closer, nuzzling his friend's chest comfortingly. Fox stroked the horse's neck absently in return. "You know, at first I was real angry because nobody told me where my gun was. And it's *my* gun, my property. So, I guess the sheriff stole it from me." Fox stared glumly into the distance. "But then I thought, so what? I mean, at least now I know where the gun is so I won't have to worry about that anymore, right?" Spirit whinnied softly in reply. "I'll tell you a secret if you promise to keep it to yourself," Fox whispered into the horse's ear. "At first I wanted to run away. I mean, I have my money, now I can even have my gun. That's all I need when I go and look for my sister, right? But then I thought, maybe I should stay here, just a little while longer. You know, the Old Meanie really needs me here. What would he do without me? I'm the only one who takes care of him!" Fox nodded again, as if to prove his own point, and Spirit mimicked him readily enough. The boy laughed. "Yeah, you understand me," he told the horse, offering him the rest of his apple as reward. Spirit bit into the juicy fruit and darted off, making sure that the boy wasn't coming after his treat. Fox giggled. "And you know what? I would've taken you with me if I had left!" The horse turned around to look over his shoulder, as if to say, 'I never expected anything else, my friend.' XXXXX Fox took his responsibilities seriously. His Rose had allowed him to stay with Spirit as long as he was home by five o'clock, so he decided to get the clock from the mantelpiece and put it down on the porch so he could always see what time it was. When he entered the cabin, he realized with a pang how much he missed Skinner. So many little things reminded him of the sheriff: the rocking chair they usually snuggled in, the book Skinner was currently reading and which laid on the small table next to the rocking chair, the notebook on the coffee table with the rules of How To Take Care Of Rascals. And even though he hated some of the rules his Old Meanie had, he still wanted nothing more than Skinner to come home. He looked at the small wooden box on the mantelpiece, intricately carved by the big man, which they used to collect the boy's money in. He couldn't help himself, so Fox took the box down and opened the lid, staring at all those many coins inside. Sometimes, when he spent the evening spreading them all out on the table to polish and count, he could swear that there were one or two more coins that had magically appeared inside the box even though he hadn't earned any money. Skinner always feigned ignorance but Fox was convinced the big man had something to do with that. Fox set the box back on top of the mantelpiece, grabbed the clock and went back outside. "That way I won't get into any trouble with Rose," he informed his horse, setting the clock down on the porch. "So, what do you want to do now, Spirit? We've got a couple of hours!" The horse wasn't much help; he merely stared at the boy, happily munching on the rest of his second apple. Fox looked at the sky. It *was* a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, there wasn't one cloud in sight. It was warm enough to run around without the coat; in fact, even the heavy wool sweater Fox was wearing started to make him feel hot in the blazing afternoon sun. "If we ever do decide to go looking for my sister, will you let me ride you?" the boy asked tentatively, climbing the fence again. He had never tried to actually sit on Spirit, knowing that the horse was wild, no matter how docile he seemed around the boy. Spirit calmly looked at his human friend, waiting for the boy's next move. Mentally shrugging his shoulders, Fox walked up to the horse, thinking that there was no time like the present. He calmed his friend with a few reassuring pats and strokes, talked soothingly to him and finally, after taking a deep breath, jumped off the ground and onto Spirit's back. The horse tensed for a moment and Fox thought he might get thrown off, but then Spirit visibly relaxed. He turned his head and looked at the boy, as if to ask what the next step was, and readily began to trot around the pasture when Fox used his thighs to get him to move. Fox was an excellent rider and he didn't need a saddle or bridle to control a horse, but he still took a long time to make sure that Spirit wouldn't spook suddenly. Once they had circled the pasture in full gallop for a good fifteen minutes, the boy felt secure enough to take it a step further. He maneuvered the horse to the gate leading into the yard, opened it and ushered Spirit out. Then, with a broad grin on his face, he gave his friend a soft kick in the flanks and held on for dear life when Spirit shot forward like greased lightning. The boy had wanted to try this for the longest time, but he had always been too scared to actually go through with it. And, of course, he knew that Skinner would have a fit when he found out. However, right now he was safe from the big man's hand – or that damned paddle or ruler or hairbrush or whatever other demonic implement he could come up with – and Fox intended to fully take advantage of his freedom. He steered Spirit towards the lake, intending to ride along the shore, and enjoyed the wind whipping through his hair, the sun warming his face, the unleashed power beneath him as his horse used every muscle in his body to race down the muddy path next to the water. Maybe he wasn't going to leave Independence to search for his sister – not yet, anyway – but Fox still felt free and exhilarated doing something he was truly great in. And something that he knew was forbidden. Fox had so much fun, in fact, that he only realized that they had raced around the lake at least twice when his stomach started to growl. The boy brought Spirit to a slow trot with a slight tug on the horse's mane and looked at the sky. It was getting dark. "Better get back, my friend," he informed the horse that dutifully turned around to trot towards the cabin. "I guess one apple isn't enough to keep me full until supper," Fox mused out loud. "And anyway, *you* ate most of my apple!" Spirit whinnied, and Fox was convinced the horse laughed at him. He giggled in reply. "Oh well, I'll just eat the cheese on my way to town. But first we have to take care of you, right, boy?" Fox patted the slightly damp coat of his friend. "I bet you enjoyed today as much as I did, huh? Just promise me not to tell the sheriff or we'll both be in trouble!" The horse whinnied again, making Fox laugh out loud. At that moment, they started to climb down the hill behind the sheriff's cabin and the boy saw a tall figure standing in the middle of the yard, in one hand the bag, in the other the discarded coat, looking around as if searching for someone. "Oh no," Fox whispered, paling. "Evil Bill." XXXXX Spirit slowly came to a stop in front of Bill Scully, tensing. He seemed to sense that they were in trouble and he wanted to make sure that his little human friend was safe. Fox clutched the horse's mane nervously and tried to gauge the man's temper. "Well, look who finally shows up," Bill snorted. "Come here, you little toad." He made a grab for the boy but Spirit backed away, rearing in warning. The man jumped back, scared. "Damn," he shrieked. "Get that beast away from me!" Fox tried to control his horse, patting him calmingly on the strong neck. Spirit bared his teeth warningly, then stood still. "You just scared him," the boy informed Bill, trying to make him see reason. "Nonsense. You're trying to intimidate me with that thing. It ain't working, little thief. Now get your butt off that horse and come here!" Bill tried to bravely stand his ground but Fox could see that the man was scared. He glanced at the clock which was still on the porch. It was twenty to six. "Oh no. I didn't realize it was so late," Fox mumbled, contrite. He just knew that his Rose was frenzied with worry. It had never been his intention to cause her any grief. "Well, it's not only late. You also disobeyed some rules, haven't you?" Bill looked pointedly at the boy still sitting on top of the horse. Then he held up the coat. "I don't much care whether you wear this thing or not, but I know that my mother told you to keep it on. Hell, you could run around naked for all I care. Problem is that my mother would probably be stupid enough to drop everything and run over to coddle and cluck over you once you catch a cold," Bill sneered. "Don't talk like that about my Rose," Fox yelled angrily. "She is not 'your Rose', you little toad. She is *my* mother. I don't know why everyone keeps thinking you're that sweet innocent kid. You got 'em all wrapped around your little finger. But not me, buster. I know what you really are." Bill made another grab for the boy but Spirit intervened once more, raising his front legs menacingly. Fox almost lost his hold and desperately wrapped his arms around the horse's neck to keep from falling to the ground. "Damn it, I'll shoot that beast," Bill growled, his hand inching towards his gun. "No!" Fox cried out. "No! Please! I...I'll take care of him." The boy patted his horse reassuringly, waiting until Spirit was calm enough to be led through the still open gate inside the pasture. There the boy jumped off the horse's back, still patting and stroking him lovingly. Spirit was sweet-tempered again but kept an eye on the man who so obviously had scared his friend so much. "Move it, damn it. We don't have all day," Bill growled. "Bad enough that I had to come and get you. As if I didn't have better things to do." "Like what? Were you going to join Bessie Sue for supper?" Fox shot back, closing the gate and walking over to the porch to bring the clock back inside the cabin. Bill thought for a long moment, trying to remember what girl in town was named Bessie Sue and if she was worth persuing, until he realized after a long moment that there was only one Bessie Sue in the near vicinity: Rancher Miller's prize-winning milk cow. Fox just came out of the cabin when he saw Bill charging towards him like a raging bull. He blanched and tried to run away but the man was able to grab his upper arm, shaking the boy like a rag doll. "You little bastard," Bill seethed. "Let's see if the sheriff has some soap at home. I think someone's asking for a mouth wash!" "I'm sorry," Fox immediately cried. "I didn't mean it. I know you would never go and have supper with Bessie Sue." Bill calmed down a little, looking expectantly at the boy in his grasp. Maybe that little toad was scared enough to finally behave. Fox swallowed hard and continued, with a smirk on his face, "I know Bessie Sue would never let you come near her barn." The excruciating pain that exploded across his face startled Fox. He staggered, the force of the blow Bill had given him being so strong that it almost made him fall to the ground. The boy instantly held his left cheek protectively and tried to blink away the tears that threatened to fall. Bill stood over him, grinning broadly. "Got anything else to say?" Fox wanted nothing more than to give him a huge piece of mind, but that man had always scared him and now he was plain terrified of him. Swallowing down his pride, the boy merely shook his head. "Good. Let's go then." Bill grabbed Fox's upper arm and dragged him along, first collecting the bag and coat and then marching towards town. The boy meekly stumbled along, still shell-shocked by what had happened. He knew he'd have bruises on his arm the next day, but he didn't dare speak up. Fox was aware of the fact that his Rose was angry with him for not being on time and he knew she'd be even more disappointed by his disobeying standing rules, so he didn't want to make her even more angry by starting a fight with her son. Bill, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the new submissiveness the boy showed. "It's bad enough that my mother and sister fell for your big-wide-innocent-eyes routine after you stole from us," he ranted, shaking the boy for effect. "And I can't believe that they keep helping you out, feeding you, taking care of you after school, teaching you how to read and write, even letting you work in our store." Bill glared at Fox. "I'm sure you keep stealing from us," he accused the boy who shook his head adamantly in denial. "Don't toy with me, boy. I know your lot. You're nothing but a pathetic, little thief. And now we're even housing you while the sheriff ran off. That man obviously needed a breather after having to deal with you for so long." Fox couldn't believe how much words could hurt him, but hearing Bill say negative things about him and the sheriff, he had to speak up. "That's not true," he sobbed. "The sheriff is a good man and he's out there catching bad men who robbed the bank. He'll be back as soon as he can!" "Yeah, and then he'll treat them the exact same way he treats *all* the thieves he catches: He lets them live with him!" Bill gave the softly crying boy an ungentle shove and Fox stumbled towards Maggie Scully's house. XXXXX Supper was a quiet affair. Maggie Scully insisted on eating first, especially since the food was already cooked and waiting. She had given Fox a sad look of disappointment when they had arrived at the house, told him quietly to wash up and then walked into the kitchen. The boy knew he was in trouble but what scared him the most was the idea of hurting his beloved Rose with his actions. Evil Bill had bundled him up in his coat before they arrived at the house so he would garner brownie points for looking out for the boy, but the man had gleefully informed his mother that he had found Fox running around *without* it. Or, more precisely, he had found him *riding* on that wild beast of his without his coat on. That was when Maggie had given Fox that sad look, and the boy was devastated. Miss Dana kept trying to cheer Fox up, and normally a mere smile from her was enough to make the boy's day, but the prospect of his Rose losing trust in him just made Fox want to curl up and cry. Evil Bill's uppity smirks thrown his way didn't make him feel better at all, so the boy was actually glad when supper was finally over. The petite red-head began to gather the dishes but Maggie stopped her daughter. "That's all right, Dana, thank you, but Fox and I will handle the dishes tonight," she informed her quietly. Miss Dana nodded, knowing full well what was going to happen in the kitchen, and, with one last reassuring smile in the boy's direction, went upstairs to her room. Evil Bill's smirk widened when he heard his mother and, even though he would've loved to have been a fly on the kitchen wall, decided that an evening spent in the saloon was better than nothing, so he quickly said good-bye and left the house. Maggie stacked the dirty plates and carried them into the kitchen, leaving Fox behind in the sitting room. After a moment, the boy grabbed the rest of the dishes and followed her. He knew he was in trouble and he knew that sometimes his Old Meanie needed time to calm down before he addressed any of the boy's transgressions, but he had never been on the receiving end of Maggie's lectures so he felt unsure about how to react. In the kitchen, Maggie used the water pump to fill the porcelain sink with water and then decided that it was too dark in the room so she lit the oil lamp that hung directly over the sink. "Fox, I'm very disappointed," she began, turning around to face the boy. Then she gasped. "Dear lord, what happened to you?" she whispered, worried. Fox frowned. Where the hell did *that* come from? "Happened to me?" he echoed slowly. "Yes. How did you get this?" Maggie softly touched the boy's left cheek which only now began to show signs of Bill's abuse. "Did you fall off your horse? You know that it's dangerous to-" "No!" Fox yelled, appalled to think that Spirit would be blamed for this. "Bill hit me." He stared at the ground, blushing slightly. It was embarrassing to think that he hadn't seen the slap coming. "Bill hit you in the face?" Maggie repeated, completely shocked. She tenderly brushed the tips of her fingers over the shiny, lightly reddish glowing cheek. "What happened, Fox? Tell me everything, okay?" So Fox did. While he was busy drying the dishes that Maggie washed, he told her the whole story. He didn't try to cover up any of his transgressions, especially since Maggie already knew what rules he had broken so he kept to the facts, omitting nothing important. Maggie was appalled to think that her own son would slap anyone – especially her Fox! – in the face, and she felt truly sorry for that. When the boy finished his story, she enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug and gave him a sweet kiss on the injured cheek to make it all better. "I'm so sorry this happened, Fox," she told him, still cuddling the boy close. "But that doesn't change the fact that you disobeyed not only me, but also Walter. You broke several rules, didn't you?" "Yes, ma'am..." "And I don't care how sweet-tempered and docile your Spirit is when he's around you, he is still a wild animal and it is too dangerous to ride him, especially the way you did. Without so much as a saddle or some reins. And along the lakeside! Fox! You know better than that!" "I...I...yes, ma'am..." "And I don't care if you felt hot in your coat, it is still January, and even if the sunshine is warm, the wind is still cold, so I had good reason to tell you to wear it." Fox stared at the floor again. Damn, but being scolded by Maggie was worse than Skinner's tongue lashings. "Yes, ma'am...I'm sorry." "Sorry doesn't cut it, dear, you know you have to be punished." The boy looked up, trepidation evident in his eyes. He knew she was right. But that didn't mean he had to like it. Somehow, he had hoped to charm his way out of trouble. Apparently, Maggie wasn't fallen for that though. Fox sighed. "Yeah, I know," he mumbled. "What would Walter do now?" she asked softly. "He...he would...sp-spank me," Fox stuttered, blushing furiously. Even though Maggie knew about that part of the boy's relationship with the sheriff, it was still utterly embarrassing to admit to it so openly. "And how would he do that?" "What do you mean?" The boy looked up at Maggie, honestly confused. She smiled. "I mean, what kind of implement would he use?" "Oh. That." Fox blushed an even darker shade of red. He couldn't believe this conversation could become even more embarrassing. "He, uh, he usually just gives me a hand spanking," he mumbled. When Maggie didn't comment, merely waited for him to proceed, Fox sighed forlornly and continued, "Sometimes, when I did something really 'childish', he uses the hairbrush." The boy gnawed his lower lip nervously. "And then there's this paddle he made. It's really evil, you know, and it's got 'Rascal' carved into it!" Fox looked up at Maggie, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud when she saw the outrage in the boy's eyes. "He only uses that one when I did something really bad, like endangering my life. Or someone else's." Maggie nodded solemnly. She knew about that paddle; in fact, Skinner had shown it to her shortly before Christmas. It didn't surprise her that Fox decided not to tell her that the paddle had a special place of honor hanging on the wall of his alcove to remind the boy of any consequences his careless actions might bring. "So, what do you think Walter would do if he heard about what you did today?" Fox sighed again. Boy, this was so hard! The sheriff also always talked with him about his transgressions, making sure he knew what he had done wrong and what he could've done differently, but at least then the big man just grabbed him, positioned him over his lap or the back of a chair and punished him. The boy hated the way Maggie kept dragging out the whole process. But he knew he had to tell the truth. "He would use the paddle," he mumbled forlornly. "Though I didn't risk my life! Spirit looks after me! He would never hurt me!" "Fox, behave," Maggie admonished sharply. The boy bit his lip, surprised by the vehemence in his Rose's voice. "We've already established that Spirit is still a wild horse and no matter how much he likes you, that animal can still easily spook and then you might have fallen to the ground or into the lake. Right?" "Yes, ma'am..." Fox replied meekly. Damn, he *really* hated all that scolding. "So, Walter would use the paddle, hmm? How many strokes?" "I...I don't know." Fox looked up, confused. "Twenty, maybe?" That paddle was vicious, especially since it was wide enough to easily cover both his butt cheeks with one whack. Maggie nodded. "Good." She rummaged around and picked up a large, wooden spoon. "I think Walter might've also added a few swats with his hand for the coat incident, not to mention the temper tantrums you like to throw, but I think I'll stick with twenty whacks with this spoon." She held the implement up for Fox to see. The boy stared at her, appalled. "What?" he croaked. "Well, I don't have a paddle handy right now but I'm officially responsible for you at the moment. That includes any and all punishments. I think you'll learn your lesson when I give you twenty of the best with my trusted friend here." She patted the spoon in her hand. Fox glowered for a long moment but he knew that not only wouldn't he be able to talk his way out of a punishment, he also deserved a spanking. And that spoon didn't look too bad. Maggie was right – Skinner would probably give him more than just the twenty strokes with the paddle, and those would be more than enough already. He was getting off easy here, Fox decided, looking at the spoon more closely. It had a long handle, and the bowl was round and flat, not even the size of his palm. What damage could that thing do really? He smiled inwardly, sighed deeply for effect and nodded. "Okay," he conceded defeat, turning around to drape himself over the sink. "Didn't you forget something, Fox?" Maggie softly chuckled. When the boy looked at her over his shoulder, she added, "Pants down." The boy blushed again, really not liking the idea of baring his butt in front of his Rose, but obeyed anyway. That silly spoon wouldn't be able to hurt him more on the bare than the stupid paddle could on his covered bottom, so he was still getting off easy! Or so he thought. The first whack hit the middle of his right butt cheek and it made him yelp loudly. Fox turned around to stare at Maggie in disbelief. That woman sure knew how to use that thing! The sting was concentrated on a small spot of his bottom and the spoon seemed to travel much faster through the air, thus gaining a lot more momentum than the paddle ever could, so the force behind the spank was stronger. Fox sobbed. The pain wasn't a dull, throbbing ache like he knew from the paddle; it was sharp, concentrated and deep. And damn, it lasted longer so the boy was still dealing with the pain from the first spank when Maggie delivered the second one on his left butt cheek. Fox began to cry in earnest by the fourth swat. Maggie gave him ten swats on each butt cheek, concentrating most of them on his sit spots. The boy's bottom glowed a healthy red when she delivered the last spank, showing several, clearly visible circles where the 'head' of the spoon had hit. Fox sighed in relief, glad that the punishment was over, and tried to get up. "No, Fox," Maggie gently admonished. "I'm not finished yet." "What?" Fox sobbed. "You said twenty swats!" "Yes. And here's the additional punishment for not wearing your coat," she replied, turning the spoon around so she held the bowl in her hand, and quickly delivered two strokes, one to the back of each thigh, with the handle. Fox yelped loudly. He had never been punished on his thighs before and he couldn't believe how much these two lines of fire hurt. Maggie gathered the sobbing boy lovingly in her arms and rocked him until he calmed down. She gave him a kiss on his forehead, gently pushing his damp hair away. "All better?" she asked, smiling. No. Something was missing. Fox couldn't really pinpoint what it was at first but somehow he still felt that something else had to be done. He frantically racked his brain, trying to remember if there was something else his Old Meanie always did... He missed the really strong, bone crushing hug against a broad chest, the deep rumbling voice soothing him and telling him what a brave Rascal he was and how proud the sheriff was of him, the cool damp towel Skinner always used to wipe the boy's face. But suddenly he knew what part of their ritual he missed the most, he needed the most. "Am I forgiven?" the boy asked in a small voice. "Oh, but of course you are, my silly Fox," Maggie laughed, hugging him again. The boy sighed, relieved. Now he really did feel better. After another minute, Fox realized he still might be in trouble. "Are...are you gonna tell the sheriff?" Maggie smiled. "No, Fox." The boy grinned happily. His face, however, fell almost comically when she added, "You will tell him." "What? No, I don't think so!" "Fox." Maggie sighed patiently. "Don't you think that Walter has a right to know what his Rascal has been up to while he was gone?" "But he'll punish me," the boy cried. "I don't want to be spanked anymore!" Maggie frowned. "I think you still don't really understand how this works, dear," she replied, stroking the boy's hair soothingly. "You break the rules, you get punished, the slate is clean. Isn't that so?" Fox thought about that for a moment, then nodded hesitantly. "So, I punished you and the slate is clean. When you tell Walter what you did today, you also tell him that I spanked you, and he will consider this case closed. But I think he should know what happened. Don't you?" Fox blushed again. Just thinking of telling the sheriff that he got spanked by his beloved Rose...he almost decided that it might be better to just receive another punishment. Then he sighed. Maggie was right. The sheriff had a right to know, so he would tell him. "Okay," the boy agreed finally. "But if I get another spanking, I will use that spoon on you!" The boy's eyes widened and he slapped his hand over his mouth the second he had blurted the last line out, not believing that he would ever say something like this out loud – especially to his Rose! – but Maggie merely laughed and hugged Fox close. "Deal," she chuckled. "And now let's get that cheek of yours cooled down. The one on your face, that is," she added, grinning. XXXXX Fox was crouching next to the coffee table in front of the fireplace, preferring to do his housework that way instead of sitting properly at the dining room table. Spending several hours on a hard wooden school bench had re-ignited the flaming heat in his posterior quite a bit, so keeping weight off his bottom had top priority for him. Suddenly the front door opened and a deep voice called out, "Anybody miss me?" The boy's head whipped around and he saw Skinner, exhausted, a heavy stubble on his face, his clothes dirty and full of dust, coming to a stop in the doorway to the sitting room. Fox leaped up, jumped over the sofa because that was the direct way to his Old Meanie, and ran towards the big man. "Pa," he yelled happily, throwing himself into the waiting embrace with such force that Skinner staggered backwards and got his hat knocked off. "Hey, Rascal," the big man whispered softly, trying hard to breathe because Fox's arms hugged him so tightly that his windpipe was nearly crushed. The boy's legs wrapped around the sheriff's waist, locking the slender body in place. Skinner rubbed soothing circles on the boy's back. "Did you catch the bank robbers?" Fox inquired, resting his head on Skinner's shoulder. He sighed happily. Yeah, that was exactly what he had missed all along. Nestling up to that broad chest, being held securely in these strong arms. "I sure did," the sheriff replied. "They're locked up in prison, waiting for the judge to come to town. Their case should be dealt with in a week or so. I just came back from the bank where I gave back every cent that was stolen." Skinner's smug tones implied how pretty damn proud he was of himself and his men. The sheriff wrapped one arm around the boy's butt, using it as a makeshift seat so he was better able to hold his Rascal, when Fox suddenly hissed and moved away from the arm. Skinner raised an eyebrow and patted the butt in question. "Speaking of bad boys," he teased gently. "Anything you want to tell me?" Damn. Fox sighed. That shouldn't have come out so soon! Maybe he was able to distract his Old Meanie... "I missed you," he tried, using his wide eyes to reflect all the innocence in the world. Skinner wasn't fooled. "I missed you, too," he informed the boy, smiling. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Fox caught sight of Maggie coming down the stairs. She had gone to pack the boy's bag as soon as she heard Skinner was back, knowing that Fox wouldn't want to stay at her house another minute when he could go back to the cabin. She locked eyes with Fox, giving him a reassuring smile, and sidled past the sheriff into the sitting room to collect the boy's school stuff. "I...I misbehaved yesterday," Fox began softly. "Did you?" Skinner replied innocently, sharing a knowing smile with Maggie. He winked at her in greeting and gave her a nod of thanks when he saw the boy's packed bag. He just loved that woman. "Hmm. I...I was allowed to play with Spirit yesterday and I forgot the time so I was late..." "Well, you've never been one to keep your eye on any clock," the sheriff commented. Fox shrugged, somewhat awkwardly, because he was still hugging the big man as well as resting his head on the sheriff's shoulder. "I, uh, I also didn't wear my coat," he mumbled but stopped when he felt Skinner go rigid underneath him. "It was really warm," Fox argued his case. "I didn't need it!" Skinner gave the boy a reassuring hug. "How many times have we talked about this, Rascal? The warm sunshine can be deceiving. It's still winter so you will wear your coat." Fox made a face against the sheriff's strong neck. "Yes, sir," he muttered rebelliously. The big man could read on Maggie's face that there was more so he began to rub soothing circles on the boy's back again, gently coaxing, "Anything else you want to tell me?" There was silence for a long time before Fox finally mumbled, "I took Spirit out for a ride around the lake." He could sense the thunderclouds on the sheriff's face so he added in rapidfire, "But it was okay because Spirit looked out for me and he made sure that I was safe and he was real gentle and sweet and he obeyed me real good and it was a lot of fun..." He trailed off when he saw that Skinner's face got darker by the second. Trying to save what little brownie points he might still have, Fox conceded, "But I know it was still dangerous because Spirit is a wild horse and I know I shouldn't have done it because it's against the rules and I promise not to do it again..." He quickly looked up at the sheriff to gauge his mood. "And...and Rose already punished me for that and she spanked me real hard, too...so you can't punish me again." The last line was more a question, begging Skinner to please concur, than a statement and the sheriff had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. It took him a moment to collect himself, then he locked eyes with the boy. "True. You broke the rules, you got punished," Skinner squeezed the boy's butt to emphasize that point, "and the slate is clean. You're right. I won't punish you again for misbehaving. That doesn't mean the two of us won't have a long talk about what you did." Fox made another face. Talking! Skinner loved all these discussions, though the only one really talking was the sheriff. Fox was reduced to the role of listener. Fox hated sitting still and listening. "Yes, sir," he mumbled with a dejected sigh that made Skinner laugh out loud. The big man gently pushed the boy's face against his neck, stroking the back of his head. Fox readily nestled close, thinking that Maggie was right – it hadn't been that hard to confess it all to the sheriff. "So, ready to go home?" Skinner asked softly. "Yes, sir," Fox exclaimed with much more enthusiasm. He climbed off the big man and looked up at Maggie who waited patiently. Skinner turned to her and gave her a peck on her cheek. "Thank you so much for taking care of my Rascal while I was away, Maggie. I really don't know what I would've done without you!" "Oh, shush, Walter. It was a pleasure," Maggie replied, smacking the big man's upper arm. She gave him the boy's things and turned to Fox who was now proudly wearing Skinner's hat. "Well, look who we got here! Sheriff Fox," Maggie exclaimed, smiling broadly. Fox grinned back. "Sheriff Rascal," he corrected her before he gave her a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you for letting me stay," the boy said. "I had a really good time...for the most part." Maggie chuckled, knowing full well what Fox was referring to. "Well, that was your own doing, young man," she scolded softly. Then she gave him a peck on his left cheek, where Bill had hit him. "Hope that feels better soon," she whispered in his ear. The boy smiled gratefully and nodded. He turned around, obediently slipped into the coat Skinner was holding up for him and then grabbed the big man's hand to lead him outside. Buck, also looking a little worse for wear after several days of roughing it, whinnied softly in greeting when he saw the boy. Fox ran up to his friend, hugging the strong neck. "Hi, boy," he exclaimed. "I missed you! And I'm sure Spirit will be happy to see you again, too!" Buck snorted, obviously informing everyone that he didn't much care what the little horse wanted or not, but Fox was having none of that. "Stop pretending," he scolded, rubbing Buck's nose lovingly. "I know you love my Spirit." Skinner grabbed his hat and put it back on his own head and then lifted Fox up into the saddle. The glaring afternoon sun highlighted something that he hadn't seen before in the dusky entrance hall of Maggie's house: the boy's reddened left cheek. "Rascal, did you fall off your horse while you were riding?" he asked sternly. Fox frowned, not knowing where that sudden change of demeanor was coming from. Then he realized that Skinner must have seen the injury and he smiled. "No, sir." "Did you get into a fight at school?" Skinner knew that there had been several occasions where Byers, the teacher, had been able to break up a potential fight at the last moment. "No, sir," Fox replied, his smile turning into a full-fledged grin. Skinner got into the saddle himself and steered Buck down Main Street towards his cabin. "So how come you are so happy? That shiner sure looks nasty to me." The boy shrugged. Maggie had taken care of his cheek, cooling it with water and a really good looking steak – which Fox thought was rather odd – so the bruise was hardly visible, and it didn't even hurt that much. "Yesterday, when I was late, Maggie sent Evil Bill to get me. He was mean to me so I did that 'smart mouth' thing that you always punish me for...and he hit me." Fox felt the sheriff's body behind him going incredibly rigid. Skinner yanked at Buck's reins brutally, causing the horse to stop in the middle of the street. "He did what?" the big man asked with barely controlled hatred in his voice. He had visions of killing Bill Scully. Slowly. Painfully. "Oh, don't worry," Fox reassured him, a little unsettled by the vehemence of Skinner's reaction. He turned around in the saddle, patting the big man's chest soothingly. "It's okay, really." The boy gently coaxed Buck to move again and settled back against Skinner's chest. "My Rose dealt with it," Fox informed the big man. "Oh, she did?" "Hmm-hmm. Evil Bill had to apologize to me this morning! In front of Miss Dana and Rose!" Fox looked over his shoulder, grinning at the sheriff. Skinner grinned back. That particular mental image would stay with him for a long time. He still considered killing Bill Scully, but now he might go easy on the pain. After a long minute, Fox piped up again. "And you know what else?" "What, Rascal?" "When Evil Bill sat down for breakfast this morning, he used a big, fluffy pillow on his seat." The boy turned around to lock amused eyes with his Old Meanie. "And he still winced when he sat down!" Skinner couldn't help himself, he laughed out loud. Fox joined in, remembering the way Bill's face contorted with pain when his butt made contact with the seat. What a sight! The big man wiped tears of laughter from his face and hugged the boy in front of him close to his chest. Fox readily snuggled up to Skinner, sighing contentedly. Yup, Skinner thought, it sure was good to be home again. THE END OF CHAPTER 12 Feedback? Well, if you insist...! :-) gaby@gaby.slashcity.tv