Author's Notes: 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. Additional Author's Notes: Big thank-you goes out to Raven for all her help with this chapter. Her insightful comments turned a horribly bumpy start into a smooth ride. Eternal gratefulness, my dear, you managed to knock some sense into me and my Muses. ;-) Even More Additional Author's Notes: Raven called me 'heifer' because I made her cry. Heh. I take that as a compliment. I don't think it's really a tear-jerker, but just in case, I'm giving this chapter a three-hankies-warning. :-) Last But Most Important Additional Author's Notes: This one's for Xcraft! Happy Birthday, dear!!! Category: PG-13, Discipline Disclaimer: With all due respect, my characters have nothing to do with CC's poor and abused puppets...(that's my excuse, anyway! ) My addy is: gaby@gaby.slashcity.tv My home is at: http://gaby.slashcity.tv Summary: Fox decides he's a grown-up. His Old Meanie isn't so sure. INDEPENDENCE by Gaby Chapter 15: Growing Pains Sheriff Skinner sighed happily and gave his horse a hearty pat on the flank. "We made good time today, old friend," he told Buck. "We're home and the sun hasn't even started to set yet. Must be a new record. Well done, boy!" The big man finished the rub-down and looked around the stable until he found the apple he had left there in the morning. Deciding his horse had earned a little treat, he held out the fruit. Buck whinnied softly and butted his nose against the sheriff's chest as thank-you before he grabbed the apple and happily chewed on the treat. Skinner laughed and patted the silky mane. "Good night, Buck," he said affectionately. "I promise you'll get a day off soon!" The horse shook his head, as if commenting on the probability of that statement, and the sheriff guffawed. "Smart horse," he conceded. "But I'll do my best, I promise." With that, he left the stable and slowly made his way towards his cabin. God, he was tired. The last few days, heck, weeks had been hell. What had started out as a small inquiry had turned into a full-fledged investigation, and the fact that all of it was still kept a secret didn't make any of his snooping easier. Skinner had been visiting ranchers all over the territory, talking to them, trying to find out more about the disturbing news he had received... And it just got bigger and bigger. Now, other sheriffs in other territories were involved in the investigation as well, and it disturbed Skinner immensely that they were obviously unearthing a scandal of unprecedented magnitude. Since he was going to meet a fellow sheriff the coming week, he wanted to have his part of the investigation finished...which, in turn, meant spending most days away from home. Skinner shook his head, trying to clear it. Enough, he told himself. You're home now. He had spent the day at the Spender ranch, talking to the old bastard. It was the first time in a long week that he had visited a farm close to Independence - relatively speaking - so he had managed to come home early. Still, the few hours he had spent in Spender's presence were enough to make his skin crawl. The fact that little Jeffrey had been limping due to 'falling down the stairs' again, had added oil to the fire, and the sheriff had kept himself in check just barely. He *really* needed to get the boy away from his father. Well, if he was lucky, that would happen sooner than they hoped. But now he was home, and he could spend some quality time with his Rascal! Skinner missed the boy, he usually came home so late that Fox was already sleeping. There had been times when the sheriff had left so early in the morning that they hadn't even had breakfast together. Skinner loved his job, but right now he really could do without it. Fox usually ate a healthy lunch at Maggie Scully's house and took something home for dinner when it was obvious Skinner wouldn't be able to get back in time. Today, however, the big man had told everyone he'd be home for supper. And considering the fact it was only late afternoon, he was pretty darn proud of himself. Skinner was wondering what he and his Rascal could do until dinner time when he saw the boy strolling around the corner of the cabin, a little dirty and smiling softly to himself. Fox couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. He had spent the last couple of hours creating an artificial creek leading from Crystal Lake to his favorite cave. The earth was muddy enough to be easily molded, and playing with dirt was one of his favorite pastimes anyway. Sure, it would be more fun with Alex in tow, but his best friend was still trying to get better after that fall down the well a few weeks ago, so he had to make do with his own companionship for the time being. Maybe Alex could help him build a dam once the creek was finished, Fox mused, totally unaware of the trouble awaiting him. The sheriff raised a surprised eyebrow when he saw the boy. "Rascal?" Fox jumped, obviously shocked, and stared at the big man. Oh damn, I'm in trouble! After a long moment, he ventured, "You're home." He didn't seem too thrilled about the fact, something that made Skinner's trouble radar ping. The sheriff looked the boy over and came to the only possible conclusion. "You've been playing in the caves again, right?" Fox crossed his arms defiantly and suddenly had that stubborn set around his mouth. "And what if I was?" he challenged, slightly miffed. How could Skinner just show up so early, ruining all the fun? He had said 'in time for supper', not 'mid-afternoon', dammit! Skinner was taken aback. He really hadn't expected that kind of reaction. "Rascal," he began in a reasonable tone. "You know the caves are dangerous and that you're not allowed near them. Especially not all alone! There are so many places for you to play. Why would you want to-" "Because it's *my* business where I spend my time!" Fox yelled. "And anyway, you wouldn't have found out about all this if you hadn't come back too early!" What kind of argument was *that*?! The sheriff felt his hackles rising. "Does that mean you've been spending every day in the caves?" The sulky look on the boy's face intensified. "And what if I was?" he challenged again. "You know what then, Rascal! You broke a rule, you'll be punished, that's what!" Skinner fumed inwardly. He had been looking forward to a wonderful evening spent with his Rascal, and now this! Fox gaped in shock. Oh damn, I really am in trouble, he thought, desperately trying to find a way out of his predicament. This is all *his* fault anyway, and now *I* am going to be punished? I don't think so! Fox glared mutinously, frantically trying to come up with a solution. He didn't want to be spanked, especially not for something silly like playing in the caves. They were safe, too, dammit, he thought grudgingly. As if I didn't know what's safe and what isn't! What am I, a stupid baby? "Don't you dare touch me," Fox hissed finally, shaking a finger at the big man. Skinner blinked, open-mouthed. "You are *not* going to spank me! I'm too old for that. I can take care of myself and make my own decisions!" Well, that did it. Skinner made a wild grab for the struggling boy and maneuvered him over his knee, once he had placed his left foot securely on the water trough. "Let me tell you something, young man," he lectured while he fought to keep the desperately wriggling boy across his thigh. "As long as I can manage to do *this* here, you are *not* too old to be spanked." He placed his broad right palm on the boy's posterior, not spanking, just making the presence obvious. "Good Lord, you're only thirteen years old!" Fox stilled immediately. "Let me up," he muttered sullenly, beginning to struggle again. He pushed himself off and away, so angry he was literally shaking. How dare Skinner, show up here unannounced and immediately coming down on him so hard! And practically for nothing! "You had *no* right to do this," he thundered. "Stop treating me like a little kid!" Fox worked himself into a frenzy, obviously warming up to the theme. "You can't keep making decisions for me. And you can't keep punishing me!" he finally yelled. Skinner merely raised an eyebrow, half amused and half furious. "Oh really?" he asked in a deceptively mild tone - always a warning sign, Fox knew. "And why's that?" Good question, Fox thought frantically. Because I don't want to be punished anymore, that's why! Because I'm old enough to decide for myself what's good for me! Because...because...because... His imagination was running wild, until he found the perfect reason. "You don't have any right anymore! I'm not giving consent anymore!" he yelled triumphantly. "Consent?" Skinner couldn't help but laugh. "Rascal, listen to yourself. I have no idea what's gotten into you, but don't you think we should go inside, sit down and talk reasonably? Like two grown men?" he added, trying to placate the boy. It only infuriated Fox though. He had found the perfect reason, and he was most definitely going to make the most of it! This was like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and he rushed forward blindly. "You are *not* my father! You are *not* my legal guardian! You are *nothing*!" he argued hotly. "You threw me into jail and then forced me to live with you. That was all very nice but that still didn't give you any rights over me. You could punish me because I gave you my consent to do so. Well, not anymore. I'm old enough to decide for myself what is right or wrong, and you won't be allowed to touch me, ever again! If you so much as lay a hand on me without my consent, you'll abuse me! And I know I can report you if you abuse a child you have no rights over! Which you don't, cuz I'm not your son!" Fox was shaking, having worked himself up into such a frenzy that even he was surprised of. Tears were making his hazel eyes bright. He was past being agitated, Skinner realized, and backed off. The big man had no idea what had caused this outbreak, it couldn't possibly be just the fact he had caught the boy playing in the caves, but it was obvious that he needed to give his Rascal some space. Holding up his hands in surrender, the sheriff took another step back, allowing Fox to rush past him and into the cabin. Skinner stared at the door, which Fox had slammed shut with a loud bang, and shook his head in shock. The boy had pointed out the one thing that kept nagging the big man's mind: the fact that he wasn't the boy's father, the fact that he hadn't even really tried to find his father. He needed some time to chew this over. Hell, he needed time to calm down! Skinner knew he was too angry to enter the cabin right now, he had no idea what he would do to the boy right now. Fire wood. Yeah, that's right. We need some more fire wood anyway, Skinner decided, trudging over to grab the axe. Let's chop some fire wood. And think about what the boy had said... XXXXX Problem is, Skinner thought to himself, that the boy is right. The big man truly had no legal right to do anything, they both had just never cared about that, one way or the other. In the very beginning, Skinner had tried to find out more about the boy, had tried to find his parents or that elusive sister of his, but when he hadn't come up with anything solid, he had pretty much given up. Not officially, of course, he still kept sending inquiries to other towns, but he had grown to love the boy, and he didn't want to give him up again. If he was honest with himself, the sheriff had to admit that he couldn't imagine giving the boy away, even if his true parents did show up. He had felt bad about being so selfish, he had talked to Maggie Scully about it several times, but he really only wanted to do what was best for the boy. And up till now, his Rascal had never complained. But really, looking at it objectively, the boy was right. What right did Skinner have? None. He had had the obligation to arrest the boy when he had been caught stealing. He had made a judgement call and didn't drag him in front of a judge, instead he took him in and tried to give him a home - at least until they found the boy's family again. And somehow, this had turned into a permanent arrangement. Neither Fox nor Skinner minded. Up till now, of course. The big man sighed. He had seen Jeffrey only a few hours before and had cursed Spender for abusing his son - even though everyone, Jeffrey included, swore that the boy really just fell down that flight of stairs. Skinner knew better. There weren't enough stairs in the world to explain the bruises that boy was constantly wearing. Still, he always prided himself in knowing that what he was doing with his Rascal was loving parental discipline, not abuse. But how could he administer parental discipline if he wasn't a parent? The boy called him "Pa" and he considered him to be his "son" but that still didn't mean anything in legal terms. If he punished a boy he had no right over, he was abusing that boy. It was like spanking one of the children in town, without their parents giving consent. In his Rascal's case, there wasn't anyone to give consent, except the boy. And it was true, Fox *was* old enough to make decisions. Who was Skinner to insist that he knew better? Besides, they basically hadn't seen each other in days, and the first thing out of his mouth was a stern reprimand. Way to go, Walt, the big man chided himself. He knew that his Rascal was usually starving for affection, no matter how shy he reacted to hugs and smiles. There hadn't even been a friendly 'hello' or an 'I'm so glad to see you' between them. No wonder Fox had immediately exploded. Offense was the best defense in the boy's opinion, Skinner knew that, and he often struck out when feeling trapped or scared. Why didn't I realize this when it happened, the big man asked himself, shaking his head in disbelief. If the first thing out of someone else's mouth was talk about punishment, he sure as hell wouldn't have smiled happily and greeted that person with a heartfelt hug either! True, the boy had acted like a spoiled brat just now, but it wasn't entirely his fault either. Skinner had to admit grudgingly that Fox did have a point. Maybe it really was time for a change. The sheriff sighed and wiped the sweat off his face. He had enough fire wood for the rest of the year, but at least his anger was gone as well. There was only one way to deal with the problem at hand, he decided while he slowly walked to the front door of his cabin. The boy wanted to make his own decisions. He wanted to be treated like an adult. Skinner knew his Rascal was intelligent enough to make good choices, he was clever, sometimes even bordering on wise, and he had a healthy dose of street-smart to call his own. That boy had taken care of himself for a while before they met, he could do so again. That, the sheriff wasn't worried about. If his Rascal wanted to be his room-mate instead of his son, so be it. Skinner just didn't know if his heart wouldn't break in the process of letting go. XXXXX Skinner entered the cabin to see Fox, face and hands now washed, sitting at the table, doing homework. The boy looked up warily, obviously not sure what the big man's reaction would be. Skinner smiled warmly and nodded in the direction of the door. "Would you please bring some wood inside?" he asked politely. The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why should I?" he snapped. The big man ignored the outburst, determined to kill his Rascal with kindness instead. "I'm not trying to order you around," he replied reasonably. "It's just that we both live in this cabin, and we like it to be warm in the evening. I think it's fair we share the chores. I chopped the fire wood. Now you can bring it inside." Fox mulled this over and finally decided this made sense. "Okay," he said hesitantly, moving to comply. The sheriff was sitting at the table, waiting, when the boy came back with his arms full of fire wood. Fox dropped the wood next to the fireplace and gave the big man a suspicious look, not entirely sure what would happen next. Skinner gestured towards the other chair. "Sit down, Rascal," he ordered softly. "I think we need to have a little talk." The stubborn look was immediately back on the boy's face. "Why?" he asked petulantly, crossing his arms and staying rooted to the spot. "Because that's what reasonable adults do when they're disagreeing on something, and you told me not an hour ago that you want to be treated like a grown-up. Then I expect you to act like one." Fox chewed his bottom lip worriedly. The big man had a point, but he didn't want to get into a discussion with Skinner. He knew he didn't stand a chance against the sheriff. Still, he was in a no-win situation; if he refused out of childish petulance, Skinner was right about his not being old enough after all, if he agreed, he'd show how mature he was until they'd talk - and he'd end up being a kid again. Fox sighed and slowly walked over to the table before he slumped down in the chair. "Thank you," Skinner said calmly. "Now, you raised some interesting points in your...shall we say...monologue." The big man grimaced slightly. Fox decided to pout on principle; he knew he'd be chewed out, punished and sent to bed early just for that silly outburst on the front porch. "If you're not happy with our arrangement, you could have talked to me, in a reasonable and calm way. We could have sat down, talked it over, and tried to find a solution that would work for both of us." Fox looked up, startled surprise on his face. His hope crumbled when he heard the next words. "However, you chose to yell at me in the most disrespectful manner. That was totally uncalled for. I know you've only lived here for a rather short amount of time, but I brought you up better than that, young man." "I thought you wanted to talk. What you're doing is called lecturing," Fox replied sullenly. "No, it's called pointing out bad manners to a friend," Skinner said calmly, refusing to take the bait. "I don't allow my adult friends to treat me disrespectfully, Rascal. I'm not going to make an exception for you." Fox opened his mouth to argue but the big man stopped him. "Yes, I know. Your respect has to be earned. I've heard it all before, and you know how I feel about your attitude in that regard. However, are you seriously implying that I don't have your respect? Look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you don't respect me." Fox stared at his lap, trying to make himself invisible. He had known it! As soon as he sat down to 'talk', Skinner would manage to lecture him like a kid again! Finally, he ventured to look up through his eyelashes. Honesty was a big issue for him, he just couldn't lie to his Old Meanie. "I...no, sir, it's not that I don't respect you," he mumbled, dropping his eyes again. "Well, I'm glad to hear it, because I respect you as well. Very much so," Skinner replied, causing Fox to look up in surprise. The big man smiled. "What? Did you honestly think I didn't respect you? Of course I do, Rascal!" He shook his head in disbelief. "That's why I've given the whole thing some thought. You do have a point, you know. I don't have any legal rights to do what I've done the last few months. I never knew you had a problem with our arrangement, and I would've preferred it if you had come and talked to me like an adult," the big man looked pointedly at the boy, "but now that it's out in the open, I guess we have to deal with the problem." Fox wasn't entirely sure where he was standing, so he chewed his bottom lip again nervously. Finally, he volunteered, "I don't want to be punished anymore. I'm too old for that. I've taken care of myself for a long time before I even met you, and I've taken care of myself again the last couple of weeks when you were gone. I'm not a kid anymore. I don't want to be treated like one." Skinner nodded. "Fair enough," he conceded, surprising the boy all over again. "Then what *do* you want?" Good question, Fox thought. "I want to be treated like an adult. Make my own decisions. I don't want to have any stupid rules in my life anymore," he finally replied. "Well, even adults need to abide by certain rules, Rascal," the big man said. "You wouldn't be a reasonable adult if you didn't." "But I'm not talking about rule-rules!" Fox exploded. "I'm talking about curfews or where I can play!" "I see." Skinner nodded solemnly. He suddenly realized that the boy truly did *not* really want to be treated like a real adult, he just wanted to bend some of the stricter rules. This wasn't about being all grown-up, this was about stretching his wings a little for the first time. Skinner felt immensely relieved. Still, his Rascal had explicitly demanded to be treated like an adult, and that was exactly what Skinner was going to do. He wasn't worried anymore, now knowing that the boy wasn't trying to leave him. Sure, Fox had tried to bend the rules on occasion, but the whole incident now seemed rather like a spur-of-the-moment thing, as if the boy had suddenly decided to take the road of least resistance - or so Fox thought. Skinner grinned inwardly. This was going to be a hard and probably painful lesson to learn for the boy, but it was all part of, well, growing up. "So, if I treat you like an adult, you'd have to pull your own weight around here, of course." "Of course," Fox echoed with an air of confidence he didn't feel. What the hell was Skinner talking about? "Since you're still going to school, I won't demand you pay half of all expenses, but other than that, I think we'll have to re-evaluate some of our chores, don't you think?" Fox nodded hesitantly, suddenly feeling a bit out of his depth. "But we can deal with those problems when we come to them. Don't worry." Skinner smiled reassuringly. "I'm not worried," Fox muttered, worried. He could smell a trap somewhere. "Good. Before we start with our new arrangement, I would like to tell you something though," Skinner went on, growing serious. He leaned forward. "I will abide by your wishes. I will treat you like an adult, and a friend. But I don't care how many biological or legal rules are against me, I still consider you my son. In my heart, you always will be. Know this, Rascal. You can always count on me, as a fellow adult, a friend, your Pa. I'm sorry if you don't consider yourself to be my son, but I can't dictate your feelings. That hurt, but I respect your decision." Fox blinked away sudden tears and stared at his lap again. He bit his lip. Damn, he hadn't wanted to hurt his Old Meanie like that! It had been an outburst of anger, nothing more! "I-I don't," he mumbled. "I mean, I-I still do. But I'm also old enough not to be treated like a little kid anymore," he added petulantly. "Sorry about that." Skinner nodded once. "Good. Glad to hear it." He clapped his hands together. "Now, technically speaking you've disobeyed me today because we didn't have this new arrangement until now. Playing in the caves, being disrespectful, generally misbehaving...that calls for a punishment, doesn't it?" The boy's head shot up. He had *known* it was all a trap! He glared at the sheriff. "However, since you so eloquently pointed out that you're old enough to know what's right and wrong, I trust you to punish yourself in whatever way you deem necessary. You're right, you've been basically on your own for the last couple of weeks. We could've had this discussion days ago, if only I had had the time. Call it good faith. I'm positive you know how to deal with your lack of respect and your misbehavior, and I trust your judgement." That said, Skinner got up and walked towards the kitchen. He smiled inwardly, congratulating himself to a job well done. Fox, on the other hand, stared at the big man's back in undisguised shock. He was absolutely positive that this was a trap, it had to be, it couldn't be anything else. This had been too easy. This was so not like the Sheriff Skinner he knew! The boy looked at Skinner with narrowed eyes, waiting for the axe to fall. "I'm going to prepare supper now," the big man informed the boy jovially. "So what? I can take care of myself!" It was obvious that Fox was pushing the limits just to see how far he could go, to see if the sheriff would keep up the - what Fox thought of as - pretense. Skinner gritted his teeth, knowing full well that his normal reaction would be to scold. Still, he had decided to give the boy more freedom, and he swore he wouldn't interfere if it killed him. "I know you can. I'm just offering to cook for the both of us. I'm asking out of courtesy." The boy's jaw dropped to the floor in utter shock. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. There just *had* to be a catch somewhere; the sheriff never gave up that easily! "I'm not hungry," he announced, staring at the big man with eagle eyes, not wanting to miss the tiny twitch around his mouth that always indicated Skinner was close to losing his patience. No, of course you're not, Skinner thought, shaking his head inwardly. On the outside, he just gave a brief smile and shrugged. "Suit yourself," he commented before he turned around and walked into the kitchen, leaving Fox gaping after him. XXXXX The conversation Skinner tried to strike up while he was eating supper, turned out to be rather one-sided. He kept up a constant chatter, trying to coax his Rascal to respond, but the boy steadfastly ignored him. Finally, Fox sighed and looked up. "If you don't mind," he said with as much friendliness as he could muster. "I'm trying to do my homework here." "Oh, yes. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm glad to be back so early, is all. I'm sure I missed a lot of exciting things, I just want to hear how everyone in town is doing, what happened the last few days..." The boy put his pencil down and gave the sheriff a level look. "Rose is fine, Miss Dana is fine, Evil Bill is still a pain in the butt, Mr Byers is fine, all the children in school are fine, Donkey Donny got an F in spelling yesterday but that's good news in my opinion, Sam is fine and Alex is cranky because his arm still hurts a lot, but that's no news either." He cocked his head. "Anything else?" Skinner blinked, a little off-balance. "Um, no, I don't think so. Thanks for catching me up." He gave a reassuring smile. "Say, since I'm home early, how about we play a game of checkers when I'm done eating?" "I still have a lot of work to do," Fox replied, burying his nose in his book again. "Maybe tomorrow." Well, the big man knew when he was being dismissed, and so he let the matter drop. He ate his supper in silence, watching his Rascal diligently writing in his notebook. Maybe things will be better in a few days, he thought, desperately needing a pep talk. Skinner's heart was breaking, seeing the boy ignoring him like that. Something had to be done, but he knew it was Fox who needed to make the first step. XXXXX "Well, I'm stuffed," Skinner announced a little later, patting his stomach and looking at his empty plate. "I can't eat the rest, so you can have the leftover beans in the kitchen if you like, William." The boy looked up, trying to find out if the sheriff was ordering him to eat or not, but all he saw was a friendly offer. He shrugged non-chalantly and muttered, "Okay, maybe later." Skinner nodded and brought the empty plate into the kitchen. Usually, washing the dishes was the boy's responsibility, and the big man could feel the big hazel eyes following him, waiting for some kind of comment. Fox was obviously expecting to be told to do his chores, and Skinner was determined to really draw the line and take care of his own stuff. If the boy wanted to play room-mates, fine. The sheriff would wash his own damned plate and fork, waiting to see what the boy would do. Fox still stared at the doorway to the kitchen, obviously waiting, when Skinner emerged a few minutes later, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. The big man gave him a friendly smile and walked over to the rocking chair where he sank down with a sigh of contented relief and began to read a book. The boy was stunned. He hadn't thought, not in a million years, that Skinner would just agree to the new terms. Not that Fox had planned on exploding the way he had, yelling at the big man to leave him alone because he was too old to be spanked. Still, it sure was a nice change of pace, and he liked his new freedom. He still didn't believe his luck, really, he knew there was more to the story - there had to be - but in the time being he decided he'd take full advantage of the situation. Grinning happily, Fox turned back to his homework and diligently tried to solve the darn math problem that was giving him a hard time. XXXXX A couple of hours later, Skinner looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. Ten to ten, almost bedtime for the boy. The big man sighed silently, missing the quality time cuddling with his Rascal and reading a story together. Still, if Fox thought he was too old to be spanked, he sure was also too old for a bedtime story and cuddle time! The boy had finished his homework about an hour earlier, looking a little wistfully in the big man's direction before he brought out a new sheet of paper to write what Skinner assumed was a letter to his friends Lily and Cal. "Well, I'm turning in," Skinner announced, stretching his long frame. Fox looked up, his eyes darting towards the clock as well. He made a face and began to pack up his things. The big man didn't comment, merely walked to the kitchen to rinse out his coffee cup. The boy hadn't eaten anything for supper, and the leftover beans were still waiting in the pot on the stove. Skinner sighed. Fox was too skinny anyway, he shouldn't skip meals. On the other hand, he wanted to be treated like an adult, so Skinner wouldn't order him to eat if he didn't want to. When the big man walked back into the main room, Fox had already gone into his small alcove. Skinner walked over, politely knocking on the doorframe. The boy, in the middle of undressing himself, turned around and looked up expectantly. "I'll have to leave very early tomorrow morning," Skinner said, shrugging apologetically. Fox shrugged as well, as if none of this bothered him. "Would you like me to wake you up before I leave?" "What? Do you think I won't get up and skip school?" The hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously, obviously detecting a trap around every corner. "No," Skinner replied patiently. "I'm only trying to be nice. Since I'll leave around the same time you usually have to get up, it won't be a problem for me. If you prefer to sleep in a little, that's fine with me as well. Whatever you prefer." The big man flashed a friendly smile, still ignoring the boy's outbursts. He swore he was going to wear that boy down with friendliness if it was the last thing he would do. Fox was clearly taken off-guard by this. "Well, I'll probably wake up before you go anyway," he finally muttered. "But in case I don't, you could give a holler. That would be nice. Thank you." Skinner nodded, relieved. Maybe they were slowly getting somewhere! "Will do," he promised, turning around. "Good night, William. Sleep well." And without looking back, he went to bed. XXXXX The tantalizing smell of bacon and eggs slowly coaxed Fox out of the land of dreams. The boy stretched languidly, a small smile on his lips. He loved the big man's breakfast, and he was pretty hungry. Not a big surprise, since he hadn't eaten the night before. Still, it was way too early for him to get up, and Fox was still having a slight grudge against the sheriff, against the way Skinner had treated him with indifference the night before. Or so Fox decided to view it. Snuggling back into the warm covers, he thought back to the evening, how Skinner had sat in the rocking chair reading his stupid book without so much as offering to cuddle and concentrate on their bedtime story. Heck, the big man had offered to play a game of checkers, and what had happened? Even when the boy had finished his homework, the sheriff hadn't asked again! Fox pouted a little, feeling sorry for himself. Well, two can play the game, he decided, and then grinned. He still couldn't believe how fast Skinner had caved in and allowed him more freedom. Fox liked the idea of finally being his own lord and master. He felt sorry about the way he had snapped at the big man, yelling at him that he wasn't his father. Then again, it was true. Legally speaking. Fox was sure the big man knew that he still loved him like a father, still considered him to be his father. The outburst had come out of nowhere, Fox had to admit, but he had felt cheated. First the sheriff ignored him for days and weeks, and when he finally did come home, it was to scold the boy. Not his idea of a good time, and he was most definitely sick and tired of being punished like a little kid! So, if a slightly strained relationship for a day or two was the price he had to pay for being treated like an adult, so be it. Skinner wouldn't be home most of those days anyway, so Fox was sure he would survive. He was still contemplating the advantages of finally being allowed to make his own decisions when he heard a soft knock on the doorframe. "William?" the sheriff said softly, obviously trying not to startle the boy. Fox opened sleepy eyes, confused that the big man hadn't called him the usual 'Rascal'...or 'son', the title Fox secretly loved so much. He gave a tired mumble to acknowledge he was awake. At least partly. "I have to go now," Skinner explained. "I'm not sure how long I'll be today, so please don't wait up for me, okay? I'll try to come home early but it'll most probably be after nightfall. I'm really sorry about this, and I promise you, it'll all be over soon." Fox slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Okay," he muttered. The big man smiled broadly. "Good. Well then, I'll leave you to your own devices then. Have a good day at school, okay?" And with a final wave of his hat, Skinner left the cabin. Fox stared after him, mouth gaping open. He couldn't deny Skinner being friendly, courteous even. There had been no malice, ill will or nastiness. No condescending sneer, no scolding between the lines, no "don't you dare" warning on the big man's face. Why, then, did he feel so forlorn, so empty? He hugged his knees, utterly confused. Normally, Skinner had always come to the boy's bed and had gently shaken him awake, brushing the long bangs out of the boy's eyes, smiling broadly. Heck, most mornings when the sheriff had to leave early, Fox had received a bear hug "to tide you over till tonight" and a kiss on his forehead. Now, the big man hadn't even entered the alcove. Also, he hadn't winked and smiled and mock-stern lectured him to "be good, behave, be respectful, and most importantly - have fun!" Fox loved this ritual, they usually tried to squeeze it in, no matter how hectic and stressful their morning was. He was well into working himself into a frenzy when he realized that Skinner hadn't ignored all the little traditions to spite him...the sheriff was merely respecting his wishes, treating him like an adult, not a little kid that needed hugs and cuddles and kisses and silly morning or evening rituals. Fox was shocked, not having anticipated *that*. Yes, he wanted to be given more freedom. He wanted to be 'his own man'. He wanted to make his own decisions. But he didn't want to give up his quality time with the big man! Skinner got it all wrong! The boy sulked a little and then stopped, realizing it didn't help his cause since nobody was around to see him. He sighed and got out of bed, deciding that a hearty breakfast would make the day brighter. A plate full of Skinner's delicious bacon and eggs, and the morning was saved. Maybe the big man had even prepared a bowl of porridge, just for him! Fox smiled happily in anticipation and ran into the kitchen, where he stopped short, staring in disbelief at - nothing. There was no prepared food of any kind. The only thing waiting for him was the pot with the old beans from the night before. There was bread, there were eggs, and he knew he would find porridge and milk in the pantry. He wasn't going to starve. But that wasn't the problem. Realizing that part of being old enough to take care of himself obviously included making his own breakfast, Fox glumly sat down and slowly ate the reheated beans. XXXXX Feeling a little sorry for himself, Fox slowly trudged towards Independence. He really didn't want to go to school, the teacher, Mr Byers, was concentrating on rather boring stuff at the moment. Or so Fox thought. And having to sit inside all day while Spring was slowly blossoming outside, was even worse for the boy. Not to mention the fact that he was pretty much all alone in school right now. Not that the other students weren't there - Fox was just still pretty shy in regard to other people, he didn't trust easily and was wary when it came to strangers. His three best friends were all missing now; Lily and Cal had left for the East Coast, and Alex was still too sick to attend school. Fox had other friends but they weren't as close as the three mentioned, and the boy had no reason to look forward to spending countless hours in school. He was scheduled to work in the Scully store in the afternoon, and he considered that to be a reward for enduring the school day. It was always nice to spend time with Miss Dana, and the money he made was an added plus. Still, he would've preferred to go visit his best friend Alex, who was going crazy at home with his arm still in a cast, but he'd have to hurry to get home on time after working in the store. Fox sighed, and kicked a pebble on the road. We wasted precious time in school, time he could spend with Alex... Suddenly, he brightened and broke out into a huge smile. He didn't have a curfew anymore! He could stay out as long as he liked! Nobody would lecture him if he came home too late! Perfect! Suddenly feeling much better, Fox picked up speed and happily skipped towards Independence. He'd go visit Alex after his shift in the Scully store. He was old enough to go home in the dark, nothing would happen to him, he was almost a grown man after all! And anyway, the Sheriff had said he'd be late, so chances were that Fox would be home before the big man came back, and nobody would be the wiser. He grinned. Seemed it would be a good day after all. XXXXX And so it came that a completely surprised but happy Alex opened the door to a smiling Fox in the evening. "Hi," he said, blinking in disbelief. "Come on in. What's up?" Fox chuckled. "Oh, I dunno," he mused. "Just thought I'd visit an old friend, is all." "Who you callin' old?" Alex retorted, grinning. "How's it going? Anything exciting to report? Want something to drink? Shouldn't you be on your way home?" The other boy laughed and shook his head. "Slow down, slow down!" he exclaimed. "I'm doing fine. Nothing exciting happening right now. No, I'm not thirsty, thank you. And no, I don't have to be on my way home." Fox sat down on one of the two creaky chairs at the small table and put down his school books. "What's more important; how are *you*?" Alex sighed and sat down in the other chair, gently placing his left arm on the table. He stared at the cast wistfully. "I'm sick of all this," he muttered sullenly. "Now that it's getting warmer, my skin is starting to itch and I can't reach it. Makes me crazy." Fox nodded, truly feeling sorry for his friend. It had been touch and go for a while, the injuries to Alex's left arm had been bad, the blood loss severe. To make matters worse, the bone had to be re-broken and re-set, which meant another few weeks with a cast. Several muscles and nerves had been injured, some even torn, and the doctor still wasn't entirely certain that Alex would ever be able to use his left arm, and especially his left hand, perfectly. Some of the dexterity would most probably be lost forever. At least Alex was right-handed, but he still wasn't allowed to go to school, needing to reserve his strength and concentrating on getting better. Mr Byers had stopped the extra lessons after school for Fox and Alex, waiting till both boys could attend them again. It gave Fox a bit more extra time but he was still very busy, all things considered. "I'm sure you'll be back getting into all kinds of mischief in no time, Alex," Fox said confidently, winking at his friend. Alex sighed, obviously not sharing that sentiment, but giving the other boy a brave smile in return. They had pulled some pretty neat pranks; it would be a shame if they couldn't go back to the old days. Fox looked around and frowned. "Where's your father?" he asked. Ever since Alex's accident, Sam Krycek had tried to spend as much time home as possible, taking care of his son. "He still has work to do," Alex sighed. "Since I can't help him in the stable anymore, work just keeps piling up. And I can't even help him here at home! It's so frustrating. He keeps telling me that it's okay, that I should concentrate on getting well, that this is my only chore, but I can see how hard it all is for him." Alex sighed again, totally dejected. He stared at the table. "I'm totally useless. I tried to dust today, to help at least a little bit, but moving all these things in the cupboard before I could clean it... It takes forever, and I keep thinking I'll drop something. Just like making the bed. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes, but with only one hand it takes forever and I'm completely exhausted before I'm halfway done." He sighed yet again. "Totally useless," he muttered into his chest. Fox couldn't stand seeing his friend like this. Something just had to be done! Alex had always been so full of energy, being condemned to do nothing was the worst thing that could happen to him. He thought for a long moment, and then grinned. "Hey, I have an idea," he exclaimed eagerly, pulling out one of the school books and pushing it towards his friend. "Mr Byers gave all of us books. Different books, so we can't copy our homework or work together or something." Fox made a face, stating clearly what he thought of *that* idea. "Anyway, my homework for today is to write a summary of chapter one. How about I take care of the dusting while you read me the first chapter out loud? That way you could work on your reading skills, and I would have done half of my homework already." Alex's eyes lit up excitedly for the first time in weeks. "Really? You really mean it?" he asked breathlessly, caressing the book gently. "Oh Fox, I'd love to! Thank you so much!" "What's to thank for?" Fox replied, laughing. "I'm doing this out of self-interest, Alex. I'm too lazy to read that stupid book all by myself." They grinned at each other, both knowing the real reason and not caring. Alex opened the book almost reverently and began to read, while Fox began to clean the small Krycek house. XXXXX Alex had so much fun that they decided to write the summary together. Afterwards, Alex begged until Fox agreed to explain geometry to him. Fox didn't like math even though he had a knack for numbers. Alex, on the other hand, always struggled with math though he loved the subject. He missed it most of all, and he was exhilarated when Fox took out his geometry notes and patiently explained the lessons to his friend. They agreed that Alex should try to solve the problems at home, with Fox checking the results the next day after school. From the way Alex was grinning happily, Fox knew he had done the right thing. His friend finally felt needed again. He had a job, a mission, something to concentrate on other than staring at the wall all day and waiting until his arm was healed again, and Alex loved every second of it. They smiled at each other, and Fox gave his friend a gentle hug, careful not to hurt his arm, before he left Alex and went home. XXXXX Fox was already in bed when Skinner finally came home. The boy wasn't asleep yet but he pretended to be, still having a slight grudge against the big man. He just didn't want to talk to him, and he was tired besides, so he kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady. The sheriff poked his head into the alcove, checking on the boy, and then entered the small room when he saw his Rascal was asleep. He looked at the boy, smiling sadly, and then tenderly tucked him in, brushing the long bangs out of Fox's face. "Sleep well, son," he whispered softly before retiring to his own bedroom, leaving a completely confused boy behind. Fox stared at the empty doorway, trying to understand Skinner's reaction...and trying to understand why his heart hurt so badly all of a sudden. XXXXX The next morning, Skinner woke up Fox in the same friendly manner he had the day before. "I'll be back pretty early tonight," the big man informed the boy. "So, if you like, we could eat supper together." Fox cocked his head, still trying to come to terms with the new development of their relationship. "Yes," he finally replied softly. "I'd like that." His tentative smile grew a little when he realized that his answer obviously pleased the big man. "Wonderful! I'll see you tonight then," Skinner said, donning his jacket. "Have a good day, William." And he was gone. Fox sighed, deciding that it would take a little more time before he would get used to the new arrangement, and got up to make breakfast for himself. The school day bored the boy to tears again, and spending a couple of hours talking about geometry with Alex made him want to slam his head against a wall. Still, it thrilled his friend to be able to do something, so Fox endured with a smile, genuinely happy for Alex. They parted, promising each other to only do really fun things the next day, and Fox rushed home, actually looking forward to the evening with Skinner. The big man arrived only a few minutes after the boy, and Fox offered to take care of Buck while Skinner prepared supper. The sheriff agreed, smiling broadly, and only just refrained himself from tousling the boy's hair affectionately. It would have been a typical father-son gesture, something one did to a child, and even though Fox appreciated the fact that Skinner honored their new arrangement, he still wondered why he felt a pang of loss when he watched the big man's hand pull back just in time. XXXXX Supper was eaten in almost companionable silence. It was slightly strained, with the big man trying to come up with some topic that wouldn't seem like prying. No matter what they talked about, Fox seemed to think it was a trap. Even Skinner's comment on the lovely warm weather made the boy suspicious, because he was well known for spending every possible minute outside, and Fox defensively snapped he was still going to school, no matter how wonderful the sun was shining. Skinner merely sighed and displayed the patience of a saint. After supper, the big man offered a game of checkers again, and was thrilled when Fox agreed. The boy was obviously starving for affection, but Skinner promised himself to respect his Rascal's wishes of being treated like an adult, so he refused to touch him or use any of his nicknames. Finally, they found a topic they could talk about, and Fox happily told Skinner about his visits to Alex, though he refrained from explaining what exactly they were doing. Doc Brown was against any kind of excitement, and Fox knew both Sam Krycek and Sheriff Skinner agreed. It was silly, Fox was sure of it, knowing his friend better than anyone, knowing for certain that all Alex needed *was* a bit of excitement, but he wasn't going to get the other boy into any trouble by babbling about their activities. "You're a very good friend, William," Skinner said earnestly. "I'm proud of you." Fox couldn't help the slight blush, the warm glow of pride caused by the praise, and he ducked his head. "Thank you," he mumbled, obviously pleased. The big man smiled broadly. "You only have to thank yourself. Alex is very lucky to have you as a friend, William." Skinner stood up and stretched his long frame. "Well, I'm turning in. I'm meeting the sheriff in Eastville first thing in the morning, so I'll leave here very early. Would you like me to wake you up when I go? It will be early, I'd understand if you prefer to sleep in." The boy cocked his head, thinking hard. "When will you be home?" he finally asked, not wanting to miss seeing the big man completely. "I'm not sure, I'll have to visit several ranchers during the day, so it depends on how fast I can get them to talk. It'll be rather late, I'm afraid." "Hmm. Well, in that case, you can wake me up, if you like." Fox gave a tentative smile, and Skinner smiled back. "Will do. Good night, William." Fox stared at the retreating back, wondering why the use of his birth name bothered him more than usual, wondering why the big man hadn't even pointed out the time. It was close to the boy's bed time, and Skinner didn't even mention it. Maybe the big man truly did accept the fact that Fox was now old enough to make his own decisions. That, Fox liked. What completely threw him was the fact that being left to his own devices also made him feel very alone. XXXXX At first, Fox thought it was all a ruse. He kept waiting for the axe to fall, not believing that Skinner truly accepted the new arrangement. Still, after several days of the big man treating him with the same friendly respect he had for most adults, the boy had to admit that things really did seem to be working in his favor. With new confidence, he decided to test the boundaries, convinced Skinner was only play-acting. But no matter what he did, the sheriff merely responded in the 'appropriate' manner. Fox stayed out till late at night, and Skinner's only reaction was to offer the boy to let him sleep in the next morning, "to catch up on your sleep." Fox deliberately sat down across the big man and devoured an entire apple pie Maggie Scully had made, instead of eating a healthy supper, and Skinner merely asked him to "please leave a piece for me as well, that pie looks and smells absolutely delicious." Fox went to play in the caves again and loudly announced where he had spent the last few hours, and Skinner looked at the dirty boy in front of him and genuinely hoped he had had "a great time." Fox left the alcove in shambles, not making his bed and leaving his clothing strewn all over the floor, and all Skinner did was ask him to pull close the curtain, which served as a door, "so the common area of the cabin looks presentable." After a week, it became crystal clear that Fox now had what he had fought for. He had his freedom, he was being treated as an adult, an equal even, considering Skinner asked for his opinion on things that the boy had never dealt with. He couldn't care less what provisions they bought on Saturdays, he had always just helped pile them up in the wagon. Now he had to choose which and how much, and it disturbed him to think that it was suddenly part of his job to handle the money they could spend. He didn't want to be burdened with taking care of their leaky roof, or repairing the fence around their little vegetable garden. He was a boy, dammit, he had certain chores - like washing the dishes or taking care of the horses - but he wasn't equipped to handle a man's chores! Still, Skinner argued they both lived in the cabin, so they both had to pitch in. Fox also didn't like the way Skinner sometimes just decided to ride to town in the evening for a beer or two, leaving the boy behind all alone. He had never done that before, always making sure to take care of Fox instead. Now, Skinner obviously couldn't care less about their quality time. Fox missed the quiet hours of snuggling up in the rocking chair, reading a book together, or just receiving a morning cuddle. He missed their little rituals, the big hand tousling his hair or squeezing his shoulder. He missed being called 'son' and 'Rascal.' Skinner was still affectionate, but only in the manly sense - clapping the boy on his back the way he did with Sam Krycek or any other male friend. Giving him a quick smile, but not a loving parental one. Fox hated it. But he decided to make the most of it, hoping Skinner would snap out of whatever funk he was in. The boy still wanted his freedom, he just also wanted his 'Pa' back. And until that happened, he decided to indulge himself in the freedom. XXXXX After a while, Fox decided to skip homework if he deemed it not interesting enough. He still thought school was a joke; he knew all there was to know, and with the days getting warmer and sunnier, he sure as hell wasn't planning on spending more time than absolutely necessary inside, learning stuff that he would never need in his life. At first he did his homework outside, sitting in the shade of a big tree, or on the jetty near the lake, but then he realized it was a waste of time, and spent the hours playing or riding Spirit instead. He visited Alex more often, even managed to coax him outside when nobody was looking. It was a good thing, too, that the Krycek cabin was on the outskirts of Independence, so the boys could sneak out and play in the sun for an hour or two before going back inside, with nobody being the wiser. Without a curfew or even a certain bedtime, Fox stayed up late and later. At first he did it just to push Skinner's buttons, trying to see if the big man would react to his staying awake well past midnight, but Skinner was too busy sleeping to find out. Still, it was fun, being able to decide when to go to bed, so Fox pulled some all-nighters, just for fun. It played havoc with his sleep patterns, as John Byers soon found out. XXXXX "Walt, it's good to see you again! You've made yourself scarce lately," the teacher greeted Skinner when the big man dismounted in front of the sheriff's office. "Yeah, it's been a few hectic weeks, John, but it looks as if the investigation is close to an end. I'm really looking forward to just strolling up and down Main Street for a while now." The big man smiled and shook Byers' hand. "Please don't get this the wrong way, Walt, but..." Byers faltered a little, unsure how to phrase the problem. Finally, he just took a deep breath and mumbled, "Your son has been having some problems in school lately. I've sent a couple of notes home but I guess he never gave them to you." "That's quite alright, he wasn't supposed to. He's handling his own affairs now," Skinner interjected. The teacher's eyebrows shot upwards. "Well, with all due respect, Walt, but he's not only not making his homework, he's not studying either so the grades are down. The other day he fell asleep in class!" Skinner nodded knowingly. "That's probably because he stayed up all night," he explained calmly. Byers gaped. "He skipped school today and yesterday," he announced curtly. "I know you well enough to say that you can't possibly support this kind of behavior!" "I'm not." Skinner smiled disarmingly. "I know this makes no sense to you right now, John, but I promise you, there's method to this madness." From the look on his face, Byers obviously doubted that. "He wanted more freedom, and I gave it to him. I'm sure he's just testing the boundaries." Skinner placed a reassuring hand on the other man's shoulder. "Don't worry, John. That boy is notoriously curious. He'll miss school and your interesting lectures soon enough, and will come back." It took Byers a long moment before his face brightened. "Are you implying that you've given him enough rope to hang himself with?" Skinner shrugged. "To be honest, that was my initial plan. I'm worried it's not working. Maybe he *is* old enough to take care of himself, to make the big decisions. He's been doing that for a while before I took him in." He sighed. "I think I underestimated him greatly. He was clearly chafing under my rules because, no matter what kind of silly and stupid decisions he's been making lately, he *is* smart enough to know what's right and what's wrong. He isn't skipping school because he doesn't know better, John. He knows he shouldn't. He's probably doing it because the sun is shining so wonderfully today." Byers sighed and nodded. He knew Fox was a notorious nature boy. "And because he now knows that it's his decision whether to go to school or not, not yours." The tone of voice held an obvious reprimand. "I had my reasons for agreeing to this new arrangement, John," Skinner replied calmly. "I'm a man of honor, so I'll keep my word. Doesn't mean I have to like it. But William and I came to an understanding, and if he's happy with it, then I won't interfere." The teacher looked at Skinner searchingly. "And is he? Happy, I mean?" he asked softly. Skinner sighed, and stared at the ground. Finally, after long moments, he said, "I don't know. I don't think so, but I'm not sure I can trust my own instincts anymore when it comes to him." Byers nodded and squeezed the big man's shoulder reassuringly. "I trust you to know what's best for Fox," he said with conviction. "You're doing the right thing." XXXXX Skinner wasn't so sure about that, and he decided to have a talk with the boy soon, if things didn't change. Heck, they were supposed to be two adults, and Skinner reasoned he had every right to talk to a fellow adult in an adult manner about adult issues, such as responsibility. Still, Fox seemed to like the new arrangement - or play-acted very convincingly - so the big man decided to wait a few more days. Besides, he was too busy that evening to sit down and have a heart-to-heart, so he concentrated on the problem at hand. Skinner was crouching in front of the small bookcase in the corner when Fox strolled into the cabin. The boy looked at the big man, waiting for an outburst. He was sure Skinner had heard about his skipping school by now, and no matter how much the big man wanted to honor their arrangement, this was just too much. It had to be. Still, the big man merely smiled in greeting and then turned back to the books. Fox frowned, not knowing how to deal with that development. He had been positive to get *some* reaction out of the sheriff. Now he was positively getting desperate! "Hey, William? Which one?" Fox blinked, totally confused, and looked at the big man who held up two books. "Which one?" Skinner repeated, nodding at each book in turn. "Scary ghost stories or a tale of brave knights and beautiful maidens?" The boy's eyes lit up. Reading time! Oh, how he had missed snuggling up to the big man and reading a book with him! He knew both books already, but he didn't care. He would've happily read the wanted ads with Skinner, if nothing else was available. "I'm going to visit Alex this evening," the big man went on, oblivious to the boy's thought process. "Sam has to work late and poor Alex is all alone again. I thought I could cheer him up by reading something to him." Skinner looked at Fox expectantly, and saw confused hurt on the boy's face. "I know, I know, Alex is not much younger than you are, so being read to is probably not high on his list, but it's always nice to have an alternative. Maybe he wants to play cards instead, I don't know. Still, he always enjoyed me reading to him so I thought I'd bring a book, just in case. So, which one?" He held up the books again. Fox sighed and turned his back to the sheriff, not wanting him to see the tears in his eyes. "Alex loves scary stuff," he muttered. "Take the ghost stories." "I will. Thanks for the advice, William." Skinner gave the boy a grateful smile, which Fox didn't see because he was still turned away. "You can join us, if you like. I'll leave in a few minutes. I'm sure Alex would enjoy your company." Fox shook his head wordlessly. He didn't think he could stand watching Skinner reading to his best friend. "Suit yourself. If you change your mind, you know where to find us. You're always welcome." Skinner walked over to the small table, squeezing the boy's shoulder reassuringly before he sat down. Opening the book, he thumbed through the pages, trying to decide which of the short stories would be best suited for Alex's morbid taste. Even though he didn't look up, he could still feel Fox walk into his alcove, so he raised his voice slightly in order to be heard. "I might be going for a beer afterwards, so don't wait up for me, okay?" When he heard no reply, Skinner looked up - and saw the boy standing in the doorway to the alcove, one hand behind his back, staring at him with huge soulful eyes. "What's wrong, William?" Skinner asked softly, smiling encouragingly. After a long moment, Fox slowly made his way over to the table and came to a halt in front of the big man. Skinner was surprised to see tears in the boy's eyes. "Please don't do this anymore," Fox whispered. Skinner frowned. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you mean." "Don't call me that anymore. I hate that name." "I've always called you 'William'," Skinner replied reasonably, his voice a deep soothing tone. "No!" Fox exclaimed desperately, then took a calming breath. "No," he repeated. "You used to call me-" He pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut, not able to say the name out loud. Instead, he held his hand out, showing what had been hiding behind his back. It was the paddle that always hung on the wall in his alcove, as a constant reminder to behave. "I'm sorry for everything. I was disrespectful, dishonest, manipulative. I know that now. I never should've treated you so unfairly. Please, I know I need to be punished. Se-severely." He swallowed nervously, and the hand holding the paddle began to tremble visibly. "Please, punish me. I know I d-deserve it. Just p-please, I w-want you b-back..." The tears began to fall, and Fox hung his head in misery. "I-I want m-my..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. Skinner stared at the boy for a long moment, utterly shocked. He knew there had to be some unresolved issues between them, but this reaction completely threw him. Apparently, his little Rascal was a better actor than he had thought, because up till now the boy had made it look as if the newly found freedom was the greatest gift. The big man took the paddle and looked at it for a second, feeling the boy's scared eyes on him. He put the paddle down on the table, stood up and propelled Fox in the direction of the couch. "So you think you know what you deserve?" he replied cryptically. Fox froze in shock. He stared at the back of the sofa, knowing what kind of punishment was given out there. He had only been caned once, but it had been the most excruciating pain he had ever encountered. They had agreed to never use a cane again because Fox had serious issues there, but suddenly he was afraid Skinner wouldn't honor that agreement anymore. Hell, why should he? Fox himself had changed just about any other arrangement they had had! And, all things considered, he came to the startling conclusion that he would gladly endure the cane, if that was what it took. Instead, he felt himself lifted and carried the two steps to the rocking chair next to the couch, where he was deposited in Skinner's lap, safely snuggled to the broad chest. "*I* know what you deserve," Skinner rumbled in a low voice, running a soothing hand up and down the boy's back. "What you deserve is some quality time full of love and affection." Fox turned wide eyes on Skinner, letting the tears fall unchecked. He couldn't help it. "And you want me back?" the big man continued with a fierce bear hug. "Rascal, you never lost me. I told you that. I told you I'd always be here for you. All you had to do was ask. You didn't want me, you made that clear, so I respected your wishes. But I told you that you'd always be my son, and that I'd always be your Pa. Right?" Fox threw his arms around the big man's neck and held on for dear life, squeezing Skinner's windpipe until the sheriff begged for mercy. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he babbled incoherently. "I didn't want it to end like that. I just wanted..." He faltered, hiccuping. "What you wanted was what I didn't give you lately. It was my fault, Rascal. I'm sorry for neglecting you. I swear I never wanted this to happen. You're the most important part of my life, and I hate my job for interfering like that. I should've made the time for you, set aside our quality time, or at least explained to you why I wasn't there for you. It's my fault. Not yours. Never yours." The big man kissed the top of the boy's head, blinking away his own tears. "The investigation is all but done, I swear. Only a few more days, and it's back to normal. I promise, Rascal. No more days without spending at least half an hour during breakfast or supper together. You have no idea how hard that was for me. Lord, how much I missed this!" he exclaimed, hugging the boy close to his chest and intending to never let go again. "B-but I was bad," Fox finally ventured. "I did a lot of things I shouldn't have done. I b-broke a lot of rules..." "You mean, like skipping school?" Skinner laughed through his tears when he saw the look of shock on the boy's face. "What? A Pa always knows these things, son, even if he's busy." Fox gave a watery smile, obviously glad that this was the case. Even if it meant punishment. He felt safe and sheltered by the idea of having someone who constantly watched over him. "And since we have a new arrangement, it was your responsibility to make these decisions. You didn't break any rules, as long as they weren't your own." The boy cocked his head, wondering. His first bout of crying had ceased, and he wiped the tears off his face with the back of one hand. The other one was still clutching Skinner's neck. "I don't want this new arrangement anymore," he finally muttered. "I want the old one back." "Aren't you too old for that?" the big man asked, being serious. He had given the whole thing a lot of thought, and had admitted to himself that the boy wasn't entirely wrong. Skinner had been treating him like a little kid on occasion, and it was only natural that the boy wanted to break out of this prison. Fox looked up, realizing that Skinner was indeed giving him a choice. And now more than ever, he knew - deep in his heart - that there was only one right answer. "Maybe I'm a bit too old for that, but I still want us to go back to the way we were," he replied with conviction. It was the only time he had truly felt safe. He didn't want more freedom if it meant he'd lose part of the shelter - even if it was just in his imagination, since he knew Skinner would always be there for him. "You know, I want our old arrangement back, too. And this time I promise you, I won't change it." Fox frowned in confusion, and Skinner hastened to explain. "When we had that fight, I only saw you wanting to change our arrangement. I didn't realize at the time that *I* had already made changes without your consent. By staying away for so long. By leaving you in someone else's care, if at all. By not explaining to you why I was gone for days. By not making sure to be there for you, no matter what. By neglecting my duties as your Pa. You had every right to be angry with me and the situation. I've only realized that now. It was all my fault to begin with, Rascal, and I'm sincerely sorry for that. Can you ever forgive me?" Fox stared at the big man long and hard. Skinner was serious, there was no doubt about it. And they both knew, just by locking eyes, that their bond was not only reestablished, it was strengthened. Nothing could separate them now. They both obviously had had to let go, only to grow closer together. The boy snuggled into the warm embrace and closed his eyes contentedly. He basked in the knowledge that he'd always be safe here, with Skinner. Nobody would ever hurt him, not while he was in the big man's strong arms. He curled up even more, smiling through his tears when he felt one big hand tousling his hair and the other one patting his bottom reassuringly. "Of course I forgive you," he whispered, then grew bold. He gave a slightly cheeky smile and added, "And since you said it was your fault...does that mean I get to spank you?" Skinner broke out into roaring laughter, squeezing the boy in his arms. "You wish!" he exclaimed. "Tell you what: we're quit. I didn't punish you for your disrespect a couple of weeks ago when we had that fight, so you won't punish me now. Fair deal?" Fox cocked his head as if giving the whole thing some serious thought. Then he nodded solemnly, nestling his head under Skinner's chin again. He gave a contented sigh, and closed his eyes, just enjoying the sensation of rocking back and forth whilst cuddling in Skinner's lap. The best place in the world, in his opinion. After several minutes of silence, Fox softly ventured, "I love you, Pa." Skinner was slightly startled out of his reverie; it wasn't often that the boy stated his emotions, and certainly not that way. He smiled, utterly thrilled. "I love you too, son," he said with conviction, squeezing the boy. "Not having you, not having *this*, just about killed me every single damned day." Fox merely nodded against the broad chest. "So, are we back to before again?" He looked up at Skinner. "Clean slate? A fresh start?" The big man nodded solemnly. "A clean slate, a fresh start. Tomorrow we'll start anew. Well, tonight, if you like." Fox made a face. "If we're going to visit Alex, I don't want to have to worry about any silly curfew," he whined. Skinner laughed out loud. "Okay, tomorrow it is, then," he agreed, causing Fox to break out in a surprised but happy smile. "But let me make one thing utterly clear, young man," the sheriff went on, deadly serious all of a sudden. "If I find you skipping school, or not making your homework, or playing in the caves, or staying out past your curfew, or breaking any other of our rules starting tomorrow, you *will* feel that paddle across your bottom!" Fox made another face at that. Then, after a long moment of contemplation, he broke out into a soft lazy smile. "Yes, sir," he mumbled happily. "I wouldn't want it any other way." THE END OF CHAPTER 15. Feedback always welcomed! Send it to Gaby!