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. Also, be warned - character death 
ahead!!! It's only a pretty non-essential supporting character, but 
it's a child. If that squicks ya, hit the return button!

Author's Notes: Huge thank you goes out to Naoko, for the most 
astonishing feedback I have ever received! :-)
Also thank you to Xanthe for her help while I battled with this 
chapter!

Category: PG-13, Discipline

Disclaimer: They're mine! All MINE!!! CC and consorts - eat your 
hearts out!!! Just kidding. No rights, no infringement, no money - but 
lotsa fun!

My addy is: gaby@gaby.slashcity.tv

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

Summary: Fox slowly comes to terms with his new life, and realizes 
that there's more to Sheriff Skinner than the gruff 'Old Meanie' 
exterior...



INDEPENDENCE
by Gaby


Chapter 5: Bonding



Sheriff Skinner woke up with a start. He sat up in his bed, his eyes 
trying to adjust to the pitch dark room. So it was still in the middle 
of the night. Skinner hesitated another moment before reaching for his 
glasses on top of the nightstand, then he slowly dragged himself out 
of his bed.

Usually he was a light sleeper, so it wasn't a surprise that he woke 
up when there was a strange noise somewhere. But he also usually knew 
when it was just the howling wind or a wild animal, and he went 
straight back to sleep. Right now however, he had a bad feeling about 
something...there was something that unsettled him. And he wasn't able 
to say what it was.

He slowly made his way to the alcove, just wanting to check up on the 
boy. Maybe he had had a nightmare and a scream had woken the sheriff. 
The big man didn't really buy this theory himself but he wanted to 
make sure, nevertheless. Drawing the curtain aside he squinted into 
the darkness, expecting a writhing little body clutched in the hands 
of a bad dream - and saw nothing!

There was no rascal in the bed. The entire alcove was empty! Skinner 
swiveled around, ran back to his small bedroom, threw on his boots and 
the gun belt and then ran outside. He wanted to check on Buck - maybe 
his rascal had gone to sleep in the stable. After all, he had 
instantly fallen in love with the horse. But what if the boy had 
actually run away? After receiving the spanking last night he seemed 
subdued. Maybe he was still in shock and had decided that anything was 
better than staying with 'Old Meanie.' Skinner mentally kicked himself 
for not reassuring the boy more.

The sheriff was already halfway to the stable when he saw something on 
the porch that usually wasn't there. Turning swiftly around, drawing 
his gun in the process, he took a cautious step forward. Then he 
remembered that he had put the rocking chair out on the porch himself 
only two days ago, when he had moved Maggie's furniture into the 
alcove. In order to fit them all in, he had had to move his desk into 
the main room, cramming it into the corner that was usually reserved 
for the old rocking chair.

Skinner sighed and shook his head, holstering his gun again. Okay, so 
it was in the middle of the night, but he should remember the most 
basic facts of his life, anyway. Besides, getting spooked by some 
silly old rocking chair wasn't very manly! What would Miss Dana say 
when she found out about the big, tough sheriff drawing a gun at a 
rocker!

Grinning to himself Skinner turned around to continue his walk to the 
stable. Then he stopped dead in his tracks. Looking back at the 
rocking chair he suddenly realized why he had spooked - the thing was 
actually rocking! And there was no wind at all to move it.

Inching closer he saw his rascal huddled into his comforter, folded 
into the chair. Skinner smiled broadly and was surprised by just how 
relieved he was that he had found the boy unharmed. He looked down at 
the sleeping figure. Fox looked no older than ten when he was asleep. 
It was absolutely amazing.

Skinner sighed and bent down. Hooking one arm under the boy's knees 
and wrapping his other arm around the boy's back, he lifted him up, 
comforter and all, intending to bring him back to bed. But as soon as 
Fox felt himself being carried, he stirred and started to wriggle. 
"No, no, I wanna stay here," he mumbled, still half asleep. Skinner 
stopped immediately and looked at the boy in his arms. It was obvious 
that his rascal was basically still sleeping, but that would soon 
change when he kept up the writhing. Coming to a quick decision 
Skinner slumped down into the rocking chair, pulling the boy into his 
lap. As soon as Fox felt the rocking motion he stilled and snuggled 
closer, sighing contentedly. Skinner smiled and wrapped the comforter 
closer around the small body. It was rather chilly tonight and he was 
wearing nothing else than his own nightshirt, so he was glad for the 
little warmth his rascal could provide.

The big man had been surprised when he had lifted Fox. Back when he 
was taking care of the rancher's sons he was used to fooling around 
with the boys. One of them was eight, the other was eleven. Fox was 
just about the same size as the eleven year old and had hardly the 
same weight on his skinny body. Skinner mused again about his rascal's 
age. From the look of it he really couldn't be more than twelve years 
old!

The boy's legs hung over the side of the chair and Skinner gently 
grabbed them to tuck them into the folds of the comforter. When he 
realized that the boy's naked feet were freezing, he placed them on 
top of his left thigh and laid his big paw on top of them, slowly 
rubbing them. Within a few minutes the sandwiched feet were warm 
again, so Skinner wrapped them into the blanket. Fox stirred on and 
off and the sheriff made sure that he kept up a slow rocking motion, 
gently stroking the boy's back and arms.

When he was sure that the boy was sound asleep again he lightly rubbed 
his chin on top of Fox's long, silky hair. "Why did you scare me like 
this, Rascal? Why did you just leave your room, boy?" he asked softly, 
speaking more to himself than to Fox. He startled when he actually 
received an answer.

"The stars. I wanted to see the stars. Can't sleep without seeing the 
stars..." Fox mumbled, obviously still in the land of dreams. Skinner 
tightened his embrace and gave the boy a squeeze. Fox cuddled into 
Skinner's chest and sighed contentedly once more.

After several long minutes the sheriff decided to try his luck again 
and slowly got up, the boy still securely in his arms. This time Fox 
didn't stir. Skinner was able to carry him back inside and tuck him in 
without any trouble. With one final caress to the boy's head the big 
man shuffled back into his own bed. His last thought before falling 
asleep was that his rascal should better not be a nightly wanderer - 
or his butt would have to pay.

XXXXX

The sheriff yawned heartily while he scrambled eggs for breakfast. 
Getting up at the crack of dawn wasn't really a problem for the big 
man - as long as he got a good night's sleep! When he had walked to 
the stable first thing in the morning to take care of Buck he had 
glanced at the rocking chair on the porch, smiling despite himself. It 
was strange - the boy had grown on him so quickly. Now he just hoped 
that he was also able to teach him some valuable lessons!

He was surprised to find Fox sitting at the table when he entered the 
main room. The boy looked at him calmly, then eyed the contents of the 
plates Skinner was holding. Skinner, in return, stared at Fox more 
closely; he was wearing the blue jeans (no itchy wool!) and the gray 
cotton shirt. No suspenders. How surprising. "Well, good morning, 
Rascal. Hope you're hungry." Skinner placed the breakfast in front of 
the boy who wrinkled his nose when he saw scrambled eggs and bacon.

"Can't I have some waffles?"

"Sorry, no waffles. You'll have to go to Maggie Scully to get some of 
those wonderful waffles." Skinner sat down and poured himself a cup of 
coffee. He had already put a large glass of milk on the table for the 
boy before Fox had shown up. He looked up startled when he realized 
that the boy was getting up and turning to leave.

"Okay," Fox said agreeably. "I'll go to Rose then."

"Sit! Now!" Skinner scowled and pointed at the vacant chair. "I mean 
it, Rascal. Sit down and eat your breakfast."

Fox hesitated another moment before he flopped back down on the chair, 
wincing slightly when his still tender bottom made contact. He glared 
glumly at his plate and began to pout, defiantly crossing his arms in 
front of his chest. Skinner sighed inwardly and silently counted to 
ten. Had he really, only minutes ago, wondered how much the boy had 
grown on him? That is what happens when you think before you had your 
first cup of coffee, Walt, old boy!

"I said, eat, William. You need some fattening up. Now stop pouting 
and grab that fork. You will not skip meals in my house!"

"But I want waffles!"

"But you get bacon and eggs!"

"But I don't wanna...."

Skinner was up and standing next to Fox within a second. "Would you 
like to discuss this further or do you eat your breakfast now?" he 
asked in a deceptively friendly tone. The boy looked up at him 
uncertainly, still pouting. But the lower lip now also trembled a 
little. Skinner sighed. He just couldn't stay angry with his rascal. 
Especially not for something as mundane as the choice of breakfast. 
The poor boy had surely been through some terrible ordeals in his 
young life. He needed love and affection now. And besides, Skinner 
suddenly remembered what Maggie had told him the day before. Make him 
feel useful and needed. Ruffling Fox's hair, ignoring the boy's 
attempt to bat away his hand, he bent down a little and smiled. "Look, 
Rascal, I have a lot planned for you today. And you will need your 
strength. Believe me. Otherwise you won't be able to help me. And I'm 
not sure that I can get all the chores done by myself in one day." He 
straightened up, waiting anxiously. The boy thought about this for a 
moment, his emotions clearly visible on his face. The lower lip 
retracted a fraction.

"Do I get to ride Buck today?" The question was supposed to sound 
non-chalantly but Skinner knew exactly how much the horse meant to the 
boy. He tried to keep a straight face.

"Why, of course, Rascal. You don't really think you'd actually be 
walking into town, do you?"

Fox's face lit up momentarily. "Okay," he finally said, shrugging. 
"But I still prefer waffles," he added before digging into his 
breakfast, anyway. Skinner smiled and sat back down. That hadn't been 
too hard. He finally got the hang of it!

"Oh, and stop calling me 'Rascal'!"

Or maybe not.

XXXXX

They got off Buck and tethered the horse in front of the sheriff's 
office. Fox immediately turned towards Buck's head, rubbing the nose, 
patting the long neck. Skinner had to call him twice before he 
reacted. "Didn't you have some unfinished business to attend to in the 
livery stable?" Fox looked surprised for a moment, apparently not 
expecting the sheriff to remember. Then he nodded slowly. Skinner 
nodded in return. "Good. I will go to Mr. Richards and pay for the 
clothes we bought yesterday. You can go and take care of that business 
of yours in the meantime. We will meet back here. And I mean, right 
away, Rascal. No dawdling."

The boy looked at the sheriff glumly for a second before he nodded 
again. He really wasn't looking forward to telling Skinner that he had 
stolen more than just the knife from the Scullys but he had promised 
the big man - and he owed it to Miss Dana and Rose! So he merely 
nodded, rubbed Buck's head once more and took off.

When he thought about it he had to admit that he was surprised. 
Skinner actually trusted him enough to let him go to the stable all by 
himself! Fox's mood brightened with each step he took. He still didn't 
know what kind of chores he was supposed to do for the sheriff but 
maybe if he was good enough or fast enough, he would find some time to 
visit his Rose. And her waffles!

Fox entered the livery stable cautiously, looking around. "Sam? Mr. 
Krycek?" When there was no reply he walked in further. "Alex?" 
Silence. The boy shrugged. Just as well. He didn't really know how he 
was supposed to explain the stolen items to either Alex or his father. 
He climbed the ladder to the loft and walked over to the small window 
where he had left his treasure just the previous day. Only to discover 
that it was gone! Looking around frantically he tried to find the 
items, but to no avail. Fox grew a little anxious and decided to 
search downstairs. Maybe they had just somehow fallen through a crack 
in the wooden floor boards and landed down there in one of the 
stalls...

Just as he was reaching the bottom of the ladder a voice startled him. 
"Looking for this?" Fox swiveled around, only to find Alex standing 
behind him, the stolen blanket, filled with the other items, in his 
right hand. "Found this yesterday. Thought it might be yours."

Fox blushed and looked at the floor. "Yeah, well...it is...mine, I 
mean..."

Alex laughed out loud. "Really?" he asked teasingly. "Looks a whole 
lot like a standard Scully blankey to me. But who am I to argue?" He 
smiled, green eyes sparkling with mischief, and threw the bundled up 
blanket at Fox who caught it easily. "Don't worry, my pa doesn't know 
anything about it. And stop looking around, he's not here. You can 
start breathing again."

The other boy blushed even more. "I'm not afraid of your father," he 
mumbled unconvincingly.

"Right," Alex retorted. "And what about...what did you call him? 'Old 
Meanie'?"

"Ain't scared of him, neither!"

Alex held up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. If that's the 
case, then why don't you come and tag along? I was just about to go 
over to the lake. My work here's done and I'm bored. My pa's running 
errands all day so he won't even know I'm gone. Want to come?"

Fox thought about that. The lake was nice. He had enjoyed the lake. 
But the sheriff had talked about chores... "Well, I dunno, Alex. I'm 
not sure..."

"What? You hafta asked permission first?" Alex grinned at him 
cheekily.

"Course not! He can't tell me what to do! I don't need his permission! 
I can do whatever I want!" Fox raised his chin defiantly, daring Alex 
to doubt him. At the same time he hoped that the older boy didn't see 
how nervous he really was. "I just...I gotta bring this here over 
to...well, I'll meet you back here soon, okay? Just wait for me." And 
before Alex could reply, Fox ran out of the livery stable.

XXXXX

On his way to the sheriff's office, Fox was frantically trying to come 
up with a good enough reason why Skinner should let him off the hook 
for a few hours. Not only did he not know what the chores were, he 
also didn't know how much time he would have to spend on them. But 
maybe they were things he could do alone, without Skinner nearby! Just 
like going to the livery stable! He might be able to tell the sheriff 
that he was busy with the chores, while he was actually going to the 
lake with Alex! Brilliant!

Skinner looked up from a report he was reading when Fox entered his 
office. "There you are," he greeted him, smiling. "I was about to go 
and look for you." Fox eyed the man warily, not entirely sure how 
serious he was. But Skinner was really smiling. So it didn't seem to 
be too dangerous to tell him about the items in his hands. Though the 
way he had reacted when he had found out about the stolen knife... Fox 
shook himself mentally. No reason to second guess the man. There was 
only one way to find out the sheriff's reaction. Besides, he really 
wanted this off his chest. "What took you so long, Rascal?"

Fox sighed. "I ran into Alex. Sorry." Skinner raised his eyebrows in 
surprise. The rascal had just apologized! Fox, on the other hand, just 
thought that showing how contrite he was couldn't hurt his case. And 
might even help buy him a few hours of playtime! "Well, anyway, this 
is what I wanted to tell you..." Fox slowly placed the blanket on 
Skinner's desk, anxiously holding his breath.

"What is it, Rascal?" Skinner opened the knot and peered inside. Food. 
There was food in the blanket.

"The knife isn't the only thing I stole from the Scully store," Fox 
mumbled, staring at the floor. "I'm so sorry." Tears were forming in 
the boy's eyes. He really did feel sorry, at least for stealing from 
Miss Dana and Rose. Not Evil Bill. After all, the bastard had stolen 
his gun! And even got the knife back! Bastard.

"Oh, William," Skinner sighed. When he saw the guilty expression on 
the boy's face he instantly felt bad. He remembered the way Fox had 
apologized to the Scully women for stealing. Of course, he was only 
thinking of the knife at that point. But Fox really was sorry. And he 
also remembered how agitated the boy had been when he had told the 
sheriff about the boots that he had stolen. He clearly didn't do it 
for fun. It was out of pure necessity. Well, not anymore. Now the 
sheriff was taking care of his rascal. And since Fox still needed to 
be punished for stealing, this was just a small addition to the list. 
Besides, the fact that the boy had actually come to him with the 
stolen items showed the sheriff that Fox was sincere. His rascal 
could've just kept his mouth shut about this and nobody would've been 
any wiser. When he was honest with himself, Skinner had to admit that 
he felt a sudden surge of pride cursing through his body. Fox felt 
secure enough to tell the sheriff the truth! "Come here, Rascal," 
Skinner said softly and opened his arms.

Fox eyed him cautiously, not really looking forward to another 
spanking at that point. He had hoped that he could soften the 
sheriff's heart enough to let him off the hook but apparently the big 
man had other plans. Resigning himself to his fate, the boy slowly 
walked over to the sheriff and was surprised to find himself wrapped 
up in a hug.

"Promise me to never steal again, Rascal. It's wrong and you know it."

"I don't want to steal but sometimes I have to..."

"Well, not anymore. I'm taking care of you now so there's no need for 
you to steal anything anymore." Skinner squeezed the unwilling boy one 
more time before holding him at arm's length. "We'll just have to add 
another visit to the Scully women to our list of chores. You will 
apologize, explain yourself and ask them how you can make it up to 
them. Do I make myself clear?"

Despite himself Fox had to grin. "Visiting Miss Dana and Rose ain't a 
chore," he exclaimed. Skinner had to laugh.

"Well, maybe not, but believe me, they sure know how to dish out a 
mean punishment for a bratty little boy like you."

Fox's face fell. "I ain't a bratty little boy!" Skinner raised a 
mocking eyebrow. "And Rose won't punish me, neither. She's gonna give 
me lotsa waffles and smiles and hugs!"

Skinner couldn't help himself, he laughed out loud. "You know what? 
You're probably right," he snorted before hugging the boy again. Fox 
stiffened immediately so he let go, sighing. "But I'm serious about 
this, Rascal. What you did is wrong. And you will be punished for 
this. Surely you understand that." He looked at the boy intently and, 
after a moment, Fox nodded slowly.

At the same second the door flew open and a whirlwind breezed in. 
"Here you are! Did you forget about me?" Alex grinned at both Skinner 
and Fox. "Howdy, Sheriff! Made any arrests today?"

"Day's long, Alex. Don't tempt me." Skinner laughed when Alex gave him 
a dismissive handwave. Then he looked at Fox who was very obviously 
not comfortable in the shoes he was in. "Is there anything I should 
know about?" he asked innocently.

"No, nothing," Fox said quickly, glaring at Alex. He just knew that 
the other boy had come to the office to embarrass him. When he was 
honest with himself, he didn't even really want to go to the lake with 
Alex anymore, just to spite him! And when he was *totally* honest with 
himself, he had to admit that he did still want to go. Damn. "Alex was 
just...I told him I would...that he could..." Fox faltered and looked 
pleadingly at Alex. Who merely grinned back.

"Well, how about I let you two boys run wild for a few hours? I still 
have some things to do anyway, so it's just as well that you get rid 
of some of that pent up energy, Rascal. When we meet again we'll have 
a quick lunch and then we'll take care of the chores. How does that 
sound?" Skinner was rewarded with wide, hazel eyes and a broad smile. 
"Just stay close by, okay? I don't want to hunt you down miles from 
here. Stay in town and be back at noon." The sheriff looked both boys 
squarely in the eyes. "I mean it. Town. Noon. Understood?"

Fox nodded happily. Alex just grinned. "Sure thing, Sheriff. Town. 
Noon. Gotcha." Alex grabbed Fox's arm and dragged him towards the 
door.

"Alex, I really mean it. Don't get into any trouble, you hear?"

"Yes, sir!"

Skinner smiled quickly before he was able to give the boys a stern 
look. "Rascal?" Fox turned around, an annoyed expression on his face. 
"Did you hear what Alex said? He called me 'sir' which is a show of 
respect. This is another lesson we will work on. Got that?"

Fox gave Skinner a very put upon look and tried to ignore the 
snickering Alex. Then he shrugged, mentally calculating that he should 
be able to get out of the office before the sheriff got too close to 
grab him... "Sure. Got it. Old Meanie." And with that, he bolted out 
of the door.

XXXXX

The boys ran down Main Street, playing catch. Several times they 
barely avoided a certain collision with innocent men and women if 
these people hadn't managed to make a saving jump out of the way at 
the last second. Neither Alex nor Fox cared for the curses thrown 
after them, though. They were just happy to have a few hours to 
themselves.

"Crystal Lake, here we come," Alex yelled at the top of his lungs, 
making a sharp right turn and bolting down the street that led to the 
sheriff's cabin. Fox slowed down considerably. Not that he didn't want 
to go to the lake but Skinner had been adamant - stay in town, or 
else. He had actually thought that Alex would honor that request. 
Well, it was more like an order. But anyway, Fox was still glad and a 
little dumb-founded about the way Skinner had handled the stolen 
blanket and food. He sure as hell didn't want to make the big man 
angry with him. "Are you coming?" Alex had stopped as well, hands on 
hips.

"Couldn't we stay here? I mean, you could show me some of those hiding 
places the grown-ups don't know about. You know, like you wanted to do 
yesterday," Fox suggested.

"What are you? Chicken?" Alex placed his hands under his armpits and 
began a bird-like walk down the street, flapping his arms like wings. 
And making clucking noises.

"No, am not," Fox stated angrily. "I just thought that we could go to 
the lake when we have more time. You know, it's a long way to the lake 
and we only have till noon..." Fox didn't want to confess to Alex that 
he couldn't really tell time but somehow he thought that he had made a 
good point. Alex responded by another round of clucking and 
frantically flapping arms. "I'm not chicken," Fox said forcefully.

"Chicken, chicken!"

"I'm not!"

"Are, too!"

"Am not!"

"Cluck-cluck!"

Fox threw his hands in the air. Fine. So be it. The sheriff wouldn't 
find out anyway, so why bother fighting over this? He started to run 
down the street, smacking Alex on the arm as he passed him. "You 
coming, chicken?" Alex didn't need to be asked again.

XXXXX

"I absolutely love it here," Alex enthused while they were standing on 
top of the hill behind Skinner's cabin, looking down at the lake.

"Me, too," Fox said softly. "I was here yesterday. It's great. You can 
see straight to the bottom of the lake!"

Alex nodded, a wide grin splitting his face in two. "Hey, Fox? Can you 
swim?"

Fox gave the other boy a blank look. "Swim? Yeah, of course I can 
swim. Why?"

Laughing happily, Alex grabbed his friend's arm and dragged him to the 
lake at full speed. "You gotta see this," he exclaimed and pointed to 
a tree a little ways to the left. "This is the best way to dive," he 
said. "I'm surprised we're the only ones here. This is the favorite 
spot of all the kids from around Independence. It's just great fun!"

When they got closer Fox could see that one of the tree's branches 
hung low over the lake. It was sturdy in built and perfect to climb. 
From the look of it, the tree must have been as old as time itself, 
and with all those branches sticking out in every direction, it was a 
boy's dream come true. Fox guessed that he could easily climb to the 
very top of the tree if he wanted to. But the idea of balancing along 
that one thick branch and then jump off and into the lake was even 
more enticing. He just wondered why he hadn't seen this tree the 
previous day. Okay, he hadn't exactly seen this side of the lake but 
it was a huge tree. Come to think of it, he probably would've found it 
if the sheriff hadn't called him away so suddenly.

Alex was already down to his longjohns when Fox stopped reminiscing. 
"Come on, you're gonna love this," he grinned, shedding the last piece 
of clothing. Without further ado he climbed the tree, walked down the 
low-hanging branch and, with a blood-curling yell, jumped into the 
lake. After a second he surfaced. Fox looked at him with concern in 
his eyes but relaxed when he saw the big smile on Alex's face. "Get a 
move on, chicken, we don't have all day!" That was all the 
encouragement Fox needed and he was naked and hanging from the branch 
within seconds.

Even though it was early fall, the sun was shining strongly and the 
air was warm. The lake itself didn't have a very comfortable 
temperature and the boys would've realized that their lips were 
beginning to turn blue after spending some time in the chilly water if 
they had not been too busy splashing one another, dipping the other 
one under the water and generally having a good time.

XXXXX

Sheriff Skinner looked at his pocket watch again. He hadn't seriously 
thought that the boys would be back at noon. But now they were more 
than thirty minutes late and he started to worry.

Up till now he had been rather busy. Skinner had gone to the post 
office and had sent telegrams to every sheriff in the territory, 
asking for help or information regarding a missing boy called William, 
adding Fox's description, and a younger girl named Samantha. He didn't 
really think this would help much but it never hurt to try. He then 
went over to the saloon to ask the bartender, Pete, about any news 
from possible strangers traveling through town. The bartender didn't 
have anything to tell, though. Hardly a surprise. Skinner then walked 
over to the Scully store, beaming happily when he saw that Dana was 
there, not Bill, and asked her to order a window pane. After the 
events the previous night he had decided to add a window to the alcove 
so Fox could see the stars before going to sleep. All of that, plus 
the occasional chat on the street with several citizens of 
Independence, some of whom complained about two boys gone completely 
wild while bolting down the street, had filled the sheriff's time 
until noon. He barely made it back to his office in time. Now he sat 
there, twiddling his thumbs.

Of course, there were several places where the boys could be. But he 
wasn't going to check them all out. Not if he could avoid it, at 
least. Thinking for a moment, he decided that there was only one place 
where he should start.

XXXXX

"Why, no, Walter. Fox isn't here. Nor Alex. You mean the sweet Krycek 
boy, don't you?" Maggie looked at the sheriff, obviously surprised by 
his visit. Skinner was dumb-founded.

"They're not here?" he asked again blankly. He had been positive that 
the boys would sit at Maggie's table, digging into stacks of waffles.

Maggie smiled slightly. "No, Walter, they're not." She raised her 
right hand. "I solemnly swear."

Skinner laughed out loud. "Sorry, Maggie. It's just that I 
thought...oh, never mind." The big man considered the situation for a 
moment, then it hit him. Concern etching his face, he turned to Maggie 
again. "Would you mind if we came by later? I mean William and I. I'm 
afraid he has something to tell you. And Dana. Will she be here later? 
Oh, and what about Bill? I hope he's not here today? I don't think it 
would be wise when he's here and the rascal shows up. I mean, they 
don't-"

"Walter!" Maggie looked at the sheriff sternly. "Will you shut up for 
just a moment? I can't get a word in edgewise when you gabble on like 
that!" Skinner opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it 
and shut it again. Maggie nodded, satisfied. "Now, to answer your 
questions. Of course I wouldn't mind your company. I already told Fox 
yesterday that he can drop by any time he wishes. And you know you're 
always welcome as well. Secondly, Bill is in Eastville this morning 
but he should be back soon, taking over in the store for Dana. So, she 
should be here in an hour or so. Does that help a little?" She looked 
at Skinner intently. He merely nodded.

"I'm sorry, Maggie. I just thought of something and I have to check it 
out before anything happens, that's all. I'll be back as soon as I 
can. Thanks for your help." He bent down to give her a chaste kiss on 
the cheek before running out of the house and down the street to get 
Buck.

XXXXX

Alex waited up in the big tree, leaning against the trunk, watching 
Fox as he ran down the branch and jumped into the lake with a 
triumphant yell. When the branch had stopped bobbing up and down, Alex 
took a cautious first step away from the trunk and onto the branch. He 
didn't get any farther.

"I would stop right there, young man," Skinner growled, standing right 
next to the tree, arms crossed over his massive chest. Alex blanched 
instantly. The sheriff turned to look at the lake where Fox emerged, 
sputtering. "Rascal! Out! Now!"

Fox almost drowned in shock when he realized that Skinner was standing 
at the shore. He saw Alex awkwardly climbing down the tree, making 
sure that he stayed out of reach of the angry sheriff. Fox instantly 
knew that he wouldn't be so lucky.

When he walked out of the water, his hands immediately covered his 
front. It had been bad enough that Skinner had seen his naked bottom 
but this was as far as things would go! Unfortunately Skinner stood 
right next to his discarded clothing, so he slowly inched his way 
forward. Alex still stood next to the tree, shivering slightly.

As soon as Fox was close enough Skinner's left hand shot out and 
grabbed the boy's upper left arm. He turned him a little and landed a 
hard slap on the still wet butt. Fox yelped loudly. This had hurt! 
Tiny droplets of water sprang off his bottom, spraying the sheriff's 
big hand in the process. "What did I tell you?" the sheriff asked 
while delivering another sharp smack which caused the boy to gasp out 
loud. "I told you to stay in town!" Smack! "I said we meet at noon!" 
Smack! "And you already know that you have to obey me, Rascal!" 
Skinner landed two more hard slaps on both butt cheeks which had 
turned slightly pink, the moist skin glistening in the midday sun. 
Skinner shook the slender body before releasing Fox. The boy 
immediately turned his butt out of harm's way. Tears were running down 
his face. "Do you have anything to say?"

"You're an old meanie," Fox sobbed. That earned him another quick 
half-turn and a stinging swat to the unprotected buttocks.

"Try again, Rascal."

"I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to swim in the lake! I thought-" 
Two more swats cut off any argument the boy might have had and Fox 
began to wail. "Stop hitting me!"

"I don't *hit* you. I spank you. And you deserve every swat, Rascal. I 
said 'town' and I said 'noon' and as far as I can see, it is past one 
o'clock and we're not in town anymore!" The sheriff shook the slender 
body a little. "It has *nothing* to do with the lake right now! We're 
dealing with your disobedience!" Skinner looked intently at Fox. "So, 
do you have anything to say?"

The boy drew a sobbing breath and looked at the ground. "I'm sorry," 
he mumbled.

"I didn't hear you."

"I said I'm sorry," Fox all but yelled, just this side of being 
insolent. As soon as he saw the thunderclouds on Skinner's face he 
backed down. "I'm sorry," he repeated, loud enough to be heard but 
polite enough to pass the sheriff's muster.

Skinner turned to Alex. "I'll let your father know what a stupid stunt 
you pulled today, Alex. This was really irresponsible of you and I'm 
very disappointed in you." It was pretty clear that this statement hit 
Alex quite hard. He looked at the sheriff pleadingly. "No, Alex. You 
should've known better. How am I supposed to trust you when you do 
something like this?" Skinner suddenly sounded tired and sad instead 
of angry. He sighed. "Go with William. Dry yourselves in the cabin, 
then get dressed. Alex, you will go home. Directly. Rascal, I will 
expect you at Maggie's house. Now march!" Skinner turned on his heel 
and stiffly walked away without saying another word, leaving two 
silently crying boys behind.

XXXXX

Fox was surprised by the way Alex had reacted to the old meanie's 
chastisement. After all, it was *his* butt that had gotten smacked, 
while it was still wet, mind you, so why was Alex crying? He thought 
the other boy was a happy-go-lucky kinda guy, always smiling, his 
emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. Nothing could make him sad!

While they were both drying themselves with some towels that Fox found 
in his trunk, he stole quick glances at Alex. Somehow there was more 
to the story, Fox was certain of it. And he had to find out that it 
was!

Alex was dressed and ready to go long before Fox could bring himself 
to leave Skinner's cabin. He preferred to be out here and not in town. 
The only thing that got him going was the fact that he would see his 
Rose next. Though the angry sheriff would be close by, as well...

The boys were already on their way back towards Independence when Fox 
finally found the courage to break the silence. "Alex? Why was the 
sheriff yelling at you?"

Alex looked at Fox, surprised, before he sighed. "That's a long story. 
You sure you wanna hear it?" Fox nodded eagerly. Not only would this 
story give him some more insight into Skinner -or so he hoped- but it 
would also bring him closer to his new friend. Friends did share 
stories, after all! Alex sighed again. "Okay. Well, it all happened 
last summer, a little more than a year ago," he began, repeatedly 
kicking a pebble that he had found on the ground. "It was a very hot 
summer and the lake was the best way to cool down a little..."

XXXXX

Alex was surprised when Donny, of all people, asked him to join the 
rest of the boys. Of course he had heard about the lake and the tree, 
and he had also wandered over there to take a closer look himself but 
he was dumb-founded when he was invited to come along!

The lake itself was already swarming with boys of all ages when Alex, 
Donny and his little brother Joey arrived. They quickly undressed and 
jumped into the water, enjoying themselves immensely. It didn't take 
long until one of the older boys, Donny to be exact, used the low 
hanging branch of that old tree as a diving board, the way it had been 
used countless times before. Apparently this was exactly what the 
other boys had been waiting for because soon every boy was busy 
jumping off that branch. Alex hesitated a little, seeing that the 
others were old pros in this and not wanting to make a fool of 
himself, but when he was challenged to jump he reluctantly agreed. 
After his first tentative try he had to agree that it indeed was a lot 
of fun and he climbed the tree again and again.

Until Donny told his little brother to give it a try. Joey was only 
six years old and seriously scared of climbing up that tree. Alex saw 
the frightened expression on the boy's face and tried to reassure him. 
"It's okay, Joey," he said soothingly. "You don't have to jump if you 
don't want to." When Joey heard those words he sighed in relief, 
giving Alex a smile of gratitude. Donny, however, had other plans.

"Whaddya think you're doing, anyway, barbarian? This is *my* brother 
and I say he jumps!"

"But he's scared, Donny, can't you see that?" Alex took a closer look 
at the tree and the lake. The tree itself was almost fifteen feet away 
from the lake shore; you had to walk to the very end of the branch in 
order to jump into the deeper water. Somehow Alex doubted that Joey 
would be brave enough climb the tree, let alone balance along the 
limb.

Donny stood in front of Alex, hands on hips, daring him to disagree. 
"And I say he's jumping. Aren't you, Joey?" They looked at the little 
boy who very obviously did *not* want to jump but who was also too 
afraid to say so. The other boys had gathered around the small group, 
glaring at Alex. "You know, I was real generous and invited you along, 
barbarian. The least you could do is stand aside and let my baby 
brother make his first jump without scaring him stiff!"

Alex realized that he didn't stand a chance. Donny was the leader of 
the pack and the fact that he, Alex, had been invited was basically an 
act of initiation. The other boys were on Donny's side. No help there. 
And from the looks of it Joey knew that, too.

With one last sigh Joey gave Alex a rueful half-smile and walked over 
to the tree. He turned around to look at his brother, obviously hoping 
that Donny might change his mind at the last second but all he 
received was an encouraging nod. Swallowing nervously Joey climbed the 
tree, almost falling down in the process. When he finally reached the 
branch he started to cry. "I don't wanna jump, Donny," he begged his 
big brother who yelled at him to stop acting like a wuss. The other 
boys cheered him on, falling into a mantra of "jump, jump" while Alex 
looked on in horror. He just knew that something bad was going to 
happen. And it did.

Joey took a few tentative steps forward but got scared by the bobbing 
branch fairly quickly so he jumped off too soon. He fell down and hit 
the water surface hard only a few feet away from the shore. There was 
a loud thud and a strangled cry. Then there was silence.

And water that slowly turned a pale red.

Donny and Alex ran to the limp body, realizing that Joey had hit his 
head on some rocks that were barely visible in the water. He was 
bleeding from several wounds, moaning pitifully. "Go get the doctor! 
And the sheriff," Alex yelled to nobody in particular while he tried 
to gently lift Joey out of the water. Donny was busy feeling sorry for 
himself.

When Doc Brown and Sheriff Skinner arrived a mere fifteen minutes 
later, Joey was already dead. And Donny was busy accusing Alex of 
killing his baby brother. With the other boys backing him up.

XXXXX

"W hat? He said it was *your* fault?" Fox stared at Alex in shock. His 
friend merely nodded.

"Well, what can I say? I was new in town, Skinner was new in town, 
Donny was part of the 'first family' in this town. It was bound to 
happen." Alex shrugged. "They did tell the truth, though. Joey being 
afraid and one boy trying to keep him from jumping while the other one 
prompted him to go. Only difference is, Donny was the one who was 
against it and I was the one telling Joey to jump." Alex shrugged 
again. "Even though all the other boys backed Donny up, I think the 
sheriff instantly knew what had really happened. I still don't know 
how he managed to talk Donny's parents out of pressing charges. But 
from that day on he has kept an eye on me. In a positive way. You 
know, like a guardian angel or something." Alex smiled a little. "Of 
course, Donny hates my guts. Remember how he taunted me yesterday?"

Fox nodded. "Donny, the donkey," he said with a serious expression on 
his face. Alex had to laugh out loud. "Now I will make double sure to 
stay away from him," Fox added.

"Good thinking, pal." Alex kicked the pebble again. "Anyway, Skinner 
somehow thought this was all his fault. The townsfolk had just elected 
him sheriff a little over a week ago and suddenly he had his first 
death to investigate. A kid's death, to top it off! He thought that he 
could've prevented this tragedy. Don't ask me how he was supposed to 
do that but he still feels guilty about it." Alex sighed. "You 
should've seen him after the accident. He yelled at us, saying we must 
have been out of our minds to jump off that branch. He has told us to 
never climb that tree again, let alone jump off it. Of course we're 
still doing it. Actually, a couple of the boys went back the very next 
day after the accident. We know that it's really safe as long as you 
jump off the *end* of the branch, like we all do. Joey just jumped off 
too soon. Anyway, in the entire year that has passed now nothing has 
happened again. And before Joey died, nothing has happened either. 
Dashing Dana once told me that she and her brother used to jump off 
that branch when *they* were kids! It was just a freak accident." Alex 
stopped and stared at the sun. "So I guess it's my fault that you're 
in trouble now. I just figured he wouldn't find out about us going for 
a swim and dive. I mean, he *must* know that the kids are still coming 
to the lake and he's not doing anything to prevent it so we figure 
it's okay." He shrugged. "Sorry. It really is my fault. I shouldn't 
have dragged you along with me."

"Nonsense!" Fox now understood a bit more why Skinner had reacted so 
violently. That still wasn't reason enough to spank him, though! "I 
would've done that without you anyway, once I had found that tree 
myself." His hazel eyes twinkled and he leaned closer to his friend. 
"And I sure will do it again! This is just too great a treat to pass 
up," he whispered conspiratorially. Alex grinned back. It was pretty 
obvious that Fox wouldn't be diving alone.

They continued their way towards Independence in companionable 
silence. Alex kept kicking the pebble he had found earlier and Fox was 
busy ripping dry twigs off the shrubs lining the dirt road. Until 
something odd hit him. "Alex? What did you mean by 'I was new in 
town'?"

His friend looked at him in surprise. "Oh, I thought you knew. My pa 
and I, we arrived in Independence only two weeks prior to Sheriff 
Skinner. The other boys didn't know me. I soon found out that Donny 
was the boss around here so it was really something when he asked me 
to join them."

"But your pa said that you've been here for years now," Fox protested.

Alex laughed. "You've heard my pa. He's still struggling with the 
language. We have been on this continent for years now but we only 
arrived in Independence last summer. Mystery solved, Sherlock?" When 
Fox gave the other boy a blank look, Alex frowned. "Have you never 
heard of Sherlock Holmes?" Fox shook his head, no. "Well, it's a great 
book. Sheriff Skinner read it to me last winter when I was sick and I 
had to stay in bed. Just ask him for it, it's in his cabin. Can you 
read?"

"Of course I can read," Fox said indignantly.

"Well, I can't," Alex shrugged. "But I soon will. School starts next 
Monday, and it's gonna be my very first day ever! Can't wait!" He 
beamed. "See, when my parents came to this continent they moved around 
a lot to make some money. I had to help them so I never had time to go 
to school. When my ma died two years ago, my pa decided to come out 
west and, now that we're settled here, he has promised me to send me 
to school." Fox just stared at his friend open-mouthed. Alex looked 
back defiantly. "Well, so I'm a little old to start school. So what? 
You're never to old to learn! And Mr. Byers, the teacher, has said 
that he'll give me extra lessons to catch up with the other kids!" He 
crossed his arms in front of his chest, daring Fox to argue. Fox, on 
the other hand, merely shrugged. What did he know about it, anyway? He 
didn't even really know what a school was!

"Guess you won't have much time to spend with me then," he said, 
staring at the ground.

Alex sighed in exasperation and patted his friend's back. "Don't you 
worry, we'll still have enough time to get into trouble," he promised. 
He winked once before waving good-bye. "Here's where my pa and I 
live," he announced, pointing at a small cabin at the outskirts of 
town. "See ya later, okay?" Fox nodded, then walked on to Maggie 
Scully's house, dreading what lay in store for him there.

XXXXX

The door opened while Fox was still knocking on it. So it came to no 
surprise that he pounded his fist into Skinner's chest. That, Fox had 
to admit, he really enjoyed. He only wished it would've been a harder 
punch. "Get inside, Rascal," Skinner growled and the boy's anger 
flared up instantly. So he now did know what had happened last summer 
but that still didn't give the sheriff any right to treat him like 
that. Fox glared at the big man, then stomped inside.

"There you are, Fox," Maggie exclaimed while she came running towards 
the boy. She hugged him tightly and was rewarded by a fierce embrace 
from the boy. "Are you all right, dear?" Maggie let go of Fox and 
critically looked him over. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No, Ma'am," Fox mumbled, confused. Why should he be hurt? He had been 
jumping into the deeper part of the lake. He was fine! Except for... 
"Well, my bottom hurts," he whined softly, rubbing his posterior 
ruefully and giving Maggie his most endearing puppy dog eyes. Then, to 
drive the point home, he stole a quick glance in the sheriff's 
direction before lowering his eyes in sorrow. Maggie instantly clucked 
over the boy.

"Sweet Jesus and Mary, will you stop that, please, Maggie?" Skinner 
exploded. "The boy disobeyed me. I only gave him a few swats. Well 
deserved swats, mind you. I didn't even properly spank him!"

Everybody, including Fox himself, was surprised when fat tears 
trickled down the boy's face. Skinner might still be angry with him 
but there clearly was no reason to react so strongly to the sheriff's 
outburst. Maggie sighed. "Why don't you give us a minute, Walter?" 
Before Skinner was able to respond Maggie had stirred Fox into the 
main room, the door closing behind them.

The boy threw himself into Maggie's arms, sobbing softly. Since it was 
a mystery to her how all of this was suddenly brought on she just let 
him cry in her arms. After a few minutes, she sat down on her sofa, 
first pulling the boy down next to her, then dragging him on her lap. 
She was dumb-founded when Fox, who had calmed down a little, 
immediately cried harder once he was clutched to Maggie's bosom. "What 
is wrong, Fox? What has happened, sweet boy?"

"He hit me," Fox said between hitching sobs. "He hates me and now 
he'll send me away and he won't give me back my gun and he'll..."

"Don't be silly," Maggie interrupted him. "Walter doesn't hate you. 
And he won't send you away. He likes you a lot, Fox." The boy snorted 
in disbelief but calmed down a little. "He was just scared that 
something has happened to you. And what you and Alex did was very 
dangerous. Besides, you've disobeyed him, so he had every right to 
give you a few swats." Fox opened his mouth to protest but Maggie 
shushed him. "Believe me, if you were *my* boy you wouldn't be able to 
sit down comfortably right about now."

Fox stared at Maggie wide-eyed, the tears completely forgotten. But by 
the way she looked at him it was pretty clear that she was serious. 
The boy sighed once before leaning his head against Maggie's shoulder, 
snuggling up to her. "I wanna be your boy. I don't wanna stay with 
him. He's an old meanie," he murmured.

"Nonsense, Fox," Maggie whispered, rocking the boy gently, stroking 
the back of his head. "Promise me to never do something this stupid 
again," she implored.

"I'll try." Fox winced when Maggie landed a well-placed swat against 
his rump. "Okay, okay, I promise!" He sighed again but this time 
contentedly, enjoying Maggie's embrace. He had almost forgotten why he 
was in this house when the door opened and Dana Scully entered the 
room. Fox jumped to his feet immediately. There was no reason to show 
Miss Dana how un-manly he was, enjoying the embrace of her mother! He 
smiled hesitantly and walked up to her. "Hi, Miss Dana," he said 
uncertainly, still in awe of her red hair.

"Hey, you," she replied softly. "The hair's still the real thing. Take 
my word for it." She winked good-naturedly. Fox blushed instantly. "Is 
everything okay?"

Maggie nodded and gestured to the table. "Why don't we all sit down?" 
she suggested, looking at Skinner who stood close to the door. He 
nodded and all four of them took a seat, Fox making a big show of 
wincing when his oh-so-tender butt came in contact with the hard 
chair.

The women brought coffee and milk and Fox was beaming when he saw that 
his late lunch would consist of a large stack of waffles. This lifted 
his spirits considerably and he found the courage to tell the Scullys 
about his crime after the second helping.

"I'm really sorry, Rose, Miss Dana," he said pleadingly. "I didn't 
want to do it. I swear! But I was hungry and I was cold and I 
needed..."

"I know, Fox," Maggie interrupted, patting the boy's hand 
reassuringly. "Walter told us about you, remember? We do understand 
that you were desperate and we also understand that you only took the 
most necessary items. And it was very brave of you to come forward and 
tell all of us about the blanket and the food. It was the right thing 
to do and we are very proud of you."

Fox blinked at the three adults in confusion. Proud? "But I stole," he 
began, only to be silenced by Skinner.

"Yes, Rascal, and that was wrong. And you will be punished for that. 
But you came forward and told us about it and that was the right thing 
to do. We *are* proud of you."

"You are?" Fox looked at Skinner doubtfully. He didn't understand how 
anybody could be proud of him, no matter how 'noble' his actions had 
been. After all, he was a thief! And even if Dana and Rose were proud 
of him, surely the sheriff...

"Yes, we are. That was very brave and it shows that you have a good 
heart," Miss Dana added.

"Oh," was all Fox could say.

"However," Skinner replied. "You will have to be punished." Fox glared 
at him. Of course, the sheriff was only waiting to get his big hands 
on his poor butt again!

Maggie exchanged a quick glance with her daughter before she spoke up. 
"And I think we already have the perfect solution," she announced. 
Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Well, I think the fact that Fox has 
brought everything back should count in his favor. Also, we can still 
sell most of the stolen items. He only has to replace the food he has 
already eaten." Maggie looked around. Dana was nodding. Fox eyed his 
Rose warily, not sure what to expect. Skinner just opened his mouth to 
finally get a word in edge-wise. But Maggie was faster. "Also, I think 
that, since *we* were the victims here, we should also be allowed to 
punish the boy." Skinner started to protest. "Well, I'm really sorry, 
Walter, but you're merely the sheriff here. Dana and I have just 
decided what the best punishment would be."

The big man closed his mouth with an audible click. He never stood a 
chance against these women! And how in hell did they 'just decide' 
what the best punishment would be, anyway??? By exchanging one 
glance???

Maggie nodded once, glad that she was now established as the boss. She 
turned to Fox. "To teach you a valuable lesson, I think you should 
spend a few hours every day with me, for the next few weeks or so. 
Some hard labor around the house will show you that people have to 
work when they want something. I think this will be more effective 
than idly sitting in a stupid prison cell for a few days." The boy's 
eyes grew large when the prison was mentioned. He never wanted to go 
back there again! But...hard labor??? "I do feel better but I am still 
a bit weak after the recent illness. You will just have to give me a 
helping hand here and there," Maggie explained. Then she turned to 
Skinner. "That way, I can also keep an eye on the boy." The sheriff 
just sat there with his mouth wide open. Maggie shrugged. There was 
clearly no help coming from the big man. She looked at the boy again. 
"What do you think, Fox?"

The boy was beaming. Spending time with his Rose, every day of the 
week! Oh yeah, that was a punishment he sure liked! "Okay," he said, 
grinning from ear to ear.

"Also," Miss Dana offered. "I think he should work in the store every 
now and then. That way he can see how much our supplies are needed in 
this town. And how difficult it sometimes is for people to earn enough 
money to buy the goods." Skinner just shrugged helplessly. Why did 
they even bother including him in this? It was pretty obvious that 
they would do whatever they wanted to do, anyway! "He can help out 
when I'm there. Wouldn't do much good to have Bill around at the same 
time, hmm?" Dana smiled when she saw Fox shaking his head adamantly. 
"You could help me with the supplies, for example. Help to load or 
unload them. I sure could use a strong man in the store when customers 
arrive with their wagons! That, of course, means that you would have 
to eat regularly to keep your strength up." Fox nodded eagerly. 
Spending hours with Miss Dana alone in the store! Could this get any 
better? "Oh, and I think since you'd work so hard in that store and, 
since your punishment for stealing is taking care of mom and the 
house, you should get paid for your time in the shop. You'd be earning 
your own money. How does that sound?" The boy's head bobbed up and 
down excitedly. This was even better! His own money! He wouldn't have 
to steal anymore once he was on his way, looking for Samantha again. 
For the first time ever he would be able to actually buy the things he 
needed!

Skinner looked at both women in amazement. Even though he had been 
hesitant about the 'punishment' at first he now had to admit that they 
had solved several of his problems. Not only would his rascal been 
taken care of when the sheriff wasn't able to keep an eye on him, Miss 
Dana also made sure that he would eat without complaint. And then 
there was the money... "Well, you do know that you'll still have to 
pay for the stolen boots, don't you, Rascal? I'll lend you the money 
but you will have to pay me back eventually. I give you a choice, 
though. You either work off your debt or pay me back. What will it 
be?" Fox looked at the sheriff wide-eyed. Damn! He had forgotten about 
the boots! But it was *his* money...!

"I'll work. You stay away from my money," he said forcefully. Stupid 
sheriff. Fox would make sure that he would spend as much time with his 
Rose and Miss Dana as possible!

XXXXX

When Skinner and Fox left the Scully house, the sheriff realized with 
a start that it was too late to get any of the planned chores done. So 
he quickly decided on plan B.

Planting his big right hand on the boy's shoulder he marched with him 
towards the side alley that led to Skinner's cabin. Fox looked over 
his shoulder, staring at Buck who was still tethered in front of 
Maggie Scully's house. "Where are we going?" he asked cautiously.

"*We* aren't going anywhere. *You* are going home. I still have 
something to take care of but I'll be joining you shortly."

Fox stared at Skinner open-mouthed. "But I wanna ride Buck!"

"Do you really think that you should be rewarded after the stunt you 
pulled? Not likely, Rascal." The boy's eyes teared up and Skinner had 
to swallow in order to steel himself against the lump that suddenly 
clogged his throat. "You will go home. And I mean, straight. No 
dawdling, either. Once you're there you will go to the stable and 
clean it. Thoroughly. After that you will take the stolen clothes and 
wash them. I want them to look clean when we deliver them to the 
rightful owner."

Fox shot daggers in the sheriff's direction. "Well, why don't *you* 
wash them, then?" he challenged.

Skinner squeezed the skinny shoulder warningly. "You always have a 
choice, Rascal. You either do it voluntarily or with a sore bottom. 
What will it be?"

The boy stared at him angrily. "I hate you!" he yelled before he 
turned around and ran down the street, silent tears running down his 
face.

XXXXX

Skinner watched the boy's retreating back, sighing. He didn't know 
what to do anymore. When he had held Fox in the rocking chair the 
previous night he was sure that they had bonded, at least a little. 
Okay, so neither one of them had mentioned the incident the next 
morning. But when Fox had shown him the stolen items he was close to 
bursting with pride. The boy was trusting him and he had even given 
him a real smile when he had sent him off with Alex. The sheriff 
sighed. Alex! He needed to talk to Sam Krycek. And after that, he 
would have to come up with some kind of miracle to reconcile with his 
rascal. If he only knew why Fox was acting so strange. He knew that 
the boy was mercurial but this was taking things too far!

Fox, on the other hand, debated with himself whether to finally run 
away or not. After all, he never wanted to stay here in the first 
place! He had to find his sister and he sure wouldn't find her while 
idling away his time here in Independence! The only thing that made 
him walk to Skinner's cabin was his gun. He still didn't have his gun 
back. And he would never leave without his gun. Fox swore to himself 
to look for it more closely. The sheriff would have to have it nearby!

Also, he didn't want Buck to come home to a filthy stable. Fox didn't 
care about the sheriff. He was an old meanie who tried to hug him one 
minute and yelled at him the next. Raising his chin defiantly to 
nobody in particular, the boy silently repeated his last words to the 
sheriff. I hate you...

XXXXX

When Sheriff Skinner arrived at his cabin about an hour later, he half 
expected his rascal to be gone. The intensity of relief he felt when 
he saw the skinny boy in the stable surprised even him. The big man 
dismounted and took off the saddle and bridle. Fox didn't even 
acknowledge him. The boy did look at Buck longingly but he stoically 
kept cleaning the stable. Skinner gave his horse a quick but thorough 
rub-down before sending him to the pasture with a resounding slap to 
Buck's backside.

"When you've finished, come and get me, Rascal. I will bring Buck 
inside then."

Fox, his arms full with fresh hay, gave the sheriff a look of venom. 
"But I can..." he began.

"Yes, you could, but you won't," Skinner replied forcefully. "I've 
already told you that Buck can be dangerous and I don't want you near 
him when you're alone. Especially today. You're not allowed to take 
care of Buck today as part of your punishment for disobeying me, 
Rascal." He gave the boy a hard look. Fox opened his mouth to protest 
before closing it again. After a few seconds his rascal hung his head 
and wordlessly walked to Buck's stall to deposit the hay there.

Skinner sighed. It broke his heart to do this to the boy but he just 
had to learn. And even if he had been a golden boy today, there was no 
way that he would let the skinny teenager near the big horse all 
alone! The sheriff took a closer look at the boy and decided to heat 
some water for a bath. Fox was sweaty and single hay straws were 
sticking in his hair and clinging on his damp clothes. Besides, he 
needed the water to wash the stolen clothes anyway.

Fox watched the sheriff go and made a face at the retreating back. Why 
did the big man have to be so mean, anyway? All he wanted to do was to 
take care of Buck! He loved the horse and the horse loved him! Surely 
even that stupid, half-blind sheriff had to see that!

When the boy had finished cleaning the stable he opened the big door 
that led to the pasture. Buck was grazing near the far end so Fox 
softly called him. The horse's ears pricked up and after a second he 
came trotting towards the boy. Fox grinned happily and nuzzled the 
warm neck of his friend. "How are you, my boy? I took care of your 
home, see?" Fox pointed inside the stable. "I'm sure you want to 
reward me for that, hmm?" He looked into the warm, brown eyes of the 
horse, tickling his nose. Buck whinnied and gently butted his head 
into the boy's chest. Fox laughed. "Yeah, thought so," he said and 
grabbed a handful of Buck's silky mane. Then he jumped off the ground 
and hauled himself on the horse's back with ease. Buck whinnied again 
but remained calm. Fox patted his neck approvingly before urging him 
into a leisurely trot around the pasture.

Skinner had finished the bath and walked outside, wondering why it 
took the boy so long to come and get him. Surely the stable would be 
clean by now! He did a classic double-take when he saw Fox riding Buck 
at full gallop, the wind combing through his rascal's long hair. The 
audacity of that boy! Well, he did have to admit that he was watching 
grace in motion and he admired the way Fox was sitting on the horse 
without using a saddle or bridle. The boy was a natural and it did the 
sheriff's heart good to see his rascal smiling. He was actually happy! 
Skinner shook himself mentally. No matter how happy the boy was, he 
still disobeyed. Again. And there was only one way the sheriff would 
be able to deal with this transgression.

Fox led Buck to the stable, dismounted and walked inside, the horse 
following him like an eager puppy. A few minutes later the boy emerged 
from the stable and walked towards the cabin. Skinner stepped off the 
porch, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. Fox immediately 
froze.

"Where is Buck?" the sheriff asked neutrally.

The boy blushed furiously and looked at the ground. "He's in the 
stable," he mumbled.

"Oh? And how did he get there?"

"He, um...he...I just opened the door and...and he came all by 
himself...maybe...maybe he was just hungry?" Fox dared a quick glance 
under lowered eyelashes. Bad move. The sheriff fumed. Skinner had 
given him the opportunity to 'fess up but now Fox had not only 
disobeyed a direct order, he had also straight out lied to the man.

With two quick strides Skinner was next to Fox and he grabbed the 
boy's left arm, hauling him over to the water trough. The sheriff 
planted his left foot on the edge of the trough and threw the slender 
body over his hard left thigh. Fox gave a surprised squawk.

"This is it, Rascal. I've tried to be lenient with you today but it is 
obvious that this was the wrong course of action," Skinner told the 
scared boy tersely.

The sheriff unbuckled his belt and drew it through the belt loops, 
almost causing Fox to lose what little balance he had. The boy 
swallowed nervously. He grabbed Skinner's left ankle in desperation, 
trying to steady himself a little since his feet dangled a few inches 
above the ground. He had thought that the way the sheriff had 
immobilized him the previous night during the spanking had been 
horrible but precariously hanging upside down over the big man's thigh 
like this was even worse! When the sheriff doubled over the belt Fox 
started to cry. The hand spanking he had received the previous day had 
hurt a lot and his butt was still sore from the impromptu swats at the 
lake, and the boy had to admit that the quick ride along the pasture 
just now hadn't really helped to ease the pain in his posterior - 
there was no way he would be able to take a belting! "Please don't hit 
me with your belt...please don't," he begged in a small voice but 
Skinner was relentless.

"I'm really very sorry I have to do this, Rascal," the sheriff said 
calmly, stroking the boy's back soothingly. "But I think this is the 
only way you will learn." He planted his big, left hand in the small 
of the boy's back to hold him steady and raised the belt with his 
right hand. "Tell me why you're being punished, Rascal."

The boy sobbed pitifully. He knew that there was no way to escape this 
punishment so he didn't even try to wiggle out of the sheriff's hold. 
He took a hitching breath. "I...I think...I think I was a smart mouth 
again," he offered softly.

"You think?"

"I *was* a smart mouth," Fox corrected himself and yelled out loud the 
very next second when the belt connected with his jeans clad butt for 
the first time.

"What else?" Skinner asked, the belt poised high above his right 
shoulder.

"I talked back and called you names," the boy sobbed. The sheriff laid 
two more strokes on the upturned butt, one for each transgression. Fox 
yelped.

"What else, Rascal?"

"I...I disobeyed you," the boy said. He took in a sharp breath when 
the belt left another stripe of pure agony on his bottom. After 
several moments he continued, "I was disrespectful and I stole."

"One at a time, Rascal," Skinner softly admonished. When Fox repeated 
his sins separately, he received one stroke with the belt for each. He 
sobbed again and wiped away his tears. "Now, we've already discussed 
the punishment for stealing. Maggie handles that. But I think it's 
good to reinforce the lesson that stealing is wrong," Skinner 
explained his reason for giving the boy a lick with the belt. 
Privately, Fox thought this had been very unnecessary. "What else, 
William?"

Fox drew a blank. What else? He had no idea what else. Finally he 
offered, "I went swimming in the lake." Skinner, whose right arm was 
already in a downward motion, stopped the belt a mere few inches 
before it connected with the waiting butt.

"No, Rascal. I didn't forbid you to go swimming in the lake. I did, 
however, tell you to stay in town. Remember?" Fox nodded slowly. "And 
you've already listed being disobedient. Although there is more to it 
than that, isn't there?" the sheriff asked softly, rubbing slow 
circles on the boy's back. Fox didn't reply. "What about Buck, 
Rascal?" Skinner prompted.

The boy's head dropped even more to the ground. "I disobeyed you again 
because I didn't leave Buck alone...I didn't come and get you like you 
told me to," he mumbled, then his head flew up and he yelled out loud 
after receiving the most vicious lick yet. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he 
babbled. Skinner rubbed his back again.

"There's one more thing," Skinner said. Even though Fox kept silent, 
the sheriff didn't offer any other help. It took the boy several 
seconds before he realized what the big man was talking about.

"I lied to you when I said Buck came by himself," he replied softly, 
gasping out loud when the belt left another angry stripe of pain on 
his sore butt.

"Good. Well done, Rascal." Skinner rubbed the boy's back soothingly 
again. "Now I will give you six more licks. I want you to think about 
what you've done wrong. I hope that, in future, you will think twice 
before disobeying me again. The rules I set are there for a good 
reason. Please remember that." Before the boy had a chance to protest 
the sheriff aimed his belt at the butt that was offered over his 
thigh. Fox cried out loud and sobbed pitifully but didn't say anything 
else. His butt hurt like hell and he was sure that he would never be 
able to sit down again. Ever.

Skinner had been lenient with this punishment. He had decided against 
a bare-bottomed belting because the boy had, until the previous day, 
very obviously never been punished like this. Receiving one stripe 
each for every transgression, plus then the additional six all 
concentrated on the 'sit spot' would hopefully make enough of an 
impact on the boy. His heart went out to his rascal who hung over his 
left thigh, his entire body trembling. The spanking he had given him 
the previous night didn't seem to have done the trick so maybe a 
belting was the answer. The sheriff really didn't want to punish the 
boy each day, and he hoped that it wouldn't become a necessity. Fox 
was a good boy, sweet and charming and quite lovable most of the time. 
Maybe his behavior would improve, now that he knew that Skinner really 
meant business.

The sheriff gently took the boy's arms and set him on his feet. He 
looked at the tear-streaked face and sighed. Fox was staring at the 
ground, trying to get the hitching sobs under control. When Skinner 
reached out to wipe the tears away, he shrunk back. "I thought we had 
adjusted your attitude," the sheriff commented softly. Fox drew a 
calming breath and nodded once. Skinner slowly reached out again and 
used his thumbs to gently wipe the wetness off the boy's cheeks. 
"There you go," he murmured and drew the boy into the circle of his 
arms. Fox immediately stiffened but Skinner didn't let go. "It's okay 
now, Rascal, it's okay. Everything's forgiven. Just promise me to 
behave better from now on, okay?" The boy still fought the embrace but 
finally gave up when he realized that the sheriff wouldn't release 
him. He nodded into Skinner's chest. "Good!" The big man squeezed the 
skinny body one more time before holding the boy at arm's length. "And 
now you'll take a bath, Rascal. And don't forget to wash the stolen 
clothes, okay?" He lovingly ruffled Fox's long, silky hair, then 
planted his big right hand on the boy's shoulder to lead him inside.

XXXXX

Personally, Fox thought that taking a bath was completely and utterly 
unnecessary. After all, he had already spent a long time in that lake, 
getting thoroughly wet in the process! But he didn't want to give the 
sheriff another reason to spank or, even worse, belt him so he just 
hung his head and removed his clothes.

The boy was standing in a small room that was separated from the 
kitchen by a heavy curtain. Skinner apparently used it as pantry of 
sorts because there were shelves stacked with canned goods and large 
bags of sugar and flour on the floor. In the middle of the room stood 
a wooden tub filled with steaming hot water. Fox looked at the pile of 
stolen clothing and the towel that he had carried from 'his' alcove 
and sighed again. The sheriff was right behind that curtain, preparing 
supper. There was no way to avoid getting wet again.

Fox hissed in pain when his scorching butt came into contact with the 
hot water. He wouldn't be able to sit down in that tub so he knelt 
down, making sure that his buttocks didn't rest on his heels. So, not 
only did he have to bathe even though he didn't want to, now it would 
be even more uncomfortable than he thought! The boy sighed again and 
grabbed the bar of soap listlessly. He was sure that the sheriff 
wasn't above smelling his body to make sure that he indeed had washed 
himself! Lathering himself up quickly, he decided to wash his hair as 
well as long as he was in that darn tub. He bent forward and dunked 
his head under the water, rubbing the soap into his long hair. He 
surfaced a few seconds later, sputtering profusely to make sure 
Skinner knew that he was obeying, then looked at the stolen clothes 
speculatively. They weren't even dirty, well, at least not much, and 
he had to wash them! Shrugging mentally, he grabbed the pile and threw 
it into the tub as well. That way he would be done faster. He soaked 
the clothes before half-heartedly wringing them out and throwing them 
on the floor again. Stupid sheriff. Fox was surprised that the big man 
hadn't given him some of *his* clothes to wash since he was already 
working on that task!

The boy sighed and dunked his head into the water again to wash the 
soap out of his hair. He gave a strangled yelp when the lather ran 
into his eyes. "Damn!"

"I won't allow swearing, Rascal," came from behind the curtain. "I 
know how to put this bar of soap to other good use so I'd be careful 
if I were you."

Fox stared at the curtain in disbelief, blinking rapidly to get the 
soap out of his eyes. Did the sheriff really mean what he had just 
implied...? The boy looked uncertainly at the soap in his hand, then 
stuck out the tip of his tongue cautiously, licking away a streamlet 
of lather that was running down his left cheek. He made a face when he 
tasted the soap. "Sorry," he yelled back, just to make sure that the 
sheriff didn't get any funny ideas. He wasn't absolutely certain but 
he thought he heard a low chuckle in response.

At least the sting in his eyes diverted him from the sting in his 
butt! Damn, but how would he be feeling if the sheriff had used that 
belt on his bare bottom? Fox shuddered. There was no way he would ever 
want to find out!

He was just getting out of the tub, squeaky clean and smelling of 
soap, when Skinner poked his head around the curtain. "Supper's ready, 
Rascal. Come and get it while it's hot." The sheriff looked at the wet 
clothes on the floor. "But first hang those up. They'll only get dirty 
again on that floor." Fox glared at him, the towel wrapped 
protectively around his skinny body, but he didn't dare defy the man.

"Okay," he murmured, staring at the ground.

"And we really will work on that respect issue, Rascal. Remember what 
Alex called me this morning?"

Fox merely nodded. But he kept his mouth shut. No way in hell would he 
ever call the sheriff 'sir' - the big man could beat him half 
senseless before that would happen! Skinner sighed and disappeared 
behind the curtain. The boy dried himself quickly and halfway got 
dressed before he grabbed the wet clothes and used the small door that 
led outside into the yard to hang the garments up on the clothes-line 
that was tied between two trees. Then he walked back inside, this time 
using the front door. He was busy buttoning up his shirt when he 
literally ran into the big man. Fox looked up into amused, brown eyes. 
"What?" he asked defensively.

"Nothing, Rascal. Sit down and eat." The sheriff shook his head, 
grinning to himself. What exactly was the point of taking a bath when 
afterwards you dressed in the same, dirty clothes as before, anyway? 
Ah, his rascal...

XXXXX

Skinner sent his rascal to take care of the dirty dishes, earning a 
glare in the process, and got up to built a fire. The nights were 
turning chilly now and the cabin would benefit from the additional 
warmth the fireplace could provide.

The sheriff thought about the problem at hand. Fox had not spoken a 
single word to the sheriff during the entire meal but had been fidgety 
all through supper. Of course, his butt must have hurt like hell but 
there was more to it than that. The big man knew how a well-punished 
behind felt like, remembering all those times his father deemed it 
appropriate to 'discuss' his misbehavior with his poor, up-turned 
buttocks. No, his rascal was wound up tight. There was definitely more 
to the story and the sheriff wanted to find out what it was. Something 
was wrong here and he just knew that he had to coax the boy into 
confiding to him. Skinner remembered the sweet boy he had held in his 
arms the previous night and quickly laid out a plan.

Fox was surprised when he came into the main room several minutes 
later and saw the old rocking chair crammed in next to the couch. 
Skinner was sitting in it, slowly rocking to and fro, staring into the 
crackling fire. The boy narrowed his eyes. This was *his* chair! That 
stupid sheriff had no right to sit in it! He didn't remember that much 
about the previous night, having been way too sleepy to pay close 
attention to what had happened, but he knew that Skinner had held him 
and carried him to his bed in the end. That had been kinda nice, in a 
weird sort of way, but that didn't mean that he wanted the sheriff in 
*his* rocking chair again! The boy crossed his arms defiantly over his 
chest and began to pout. He was willing to fight over that damned 
chair if it was the last thing he would do!

"Reflection Time, Rascal," the sheriff suddenly said without taking 
his eyes off the dancing flames. The boy was caught off-guard and he 
dropped his arms, cocking his head slightly. Reflection Time? Finally 
Skinner turned around to face his rascal. "Go and get your notebook, 
William. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to get this done 
before supper so you will have to do it now. Half an hour. Get 
cracking." When he saw the defiance in the boy's eyes he smiled 
slightly. "Well, you don't have to actually use that notebook. I've 
already told you that yesterday. But you will use the time to reflect 
upon your day. Maybe that will help you focus on certain lessons you 
should have learned today." And help you unwind a little, the sheriff 
added silently.

Fox glared at the big man in the chair for another few seconds before 
stalking off to his alcove. He retrieved the notebook and the pencil, 
walked back into the main room and, after looking around for a moment, 
plopped down in front of the fireplace. He winced slightly when his 
tender butt came into contact with the hard floor so he quickly 
scrambled to his knees. Skinner was about to throw a pillow to the boy 
but thought better of it. There was no reason why his rascal should 
choose the floor - there was his chair at the table and a wonderfully 
padded couch to sit upon. Why should he make it more comfortable for 
the boy if he chose such an uncomfortable spot himself? Fox crouched 
down, his long, still slightly damp hair flopping into his face, and 
he opened his notebook busily. With one last glance at the sheriff he 
began to draw.

Skinner smiled smugly. This might just work, he thought. Then he 
cleared his throat audibly. "Rascal?" When Fox looked up with a very 
annoyed expression on his face the sheriff pointed to a clock on the 
mantelpiece. "Half an hour," he repeated. The boy looked at the clock 
blankly, causing the sheriff to raise an eyebrow, then he nodded 
absent-mindedly before huddling over his notebook again. The big man 
sighed and decided to just play the whole thing by ear.

XXXXX

The sheriff had used the time to read in a good book and was surprised 
to find that almost 50 minutes had passed. He looked at the boy who 
was still busily drawing and smiled. Fox wasn't fidgety anymore; in 
fact, the sheriff had hardly acknowledged the boy's presence because 
he was so quiet. Maybe there was a way to get through to his rascal, 
after all.

Skinner sighed and got up. Damn coffee! He had to use the outhouse. 
With one last look at Fox and a quiet "I'll be right back" that didn't 
even receive a reply, he walked outside.

When the big man entered his cabin a few minutes later he had to bite 
his tongue very hard to keep from crying out his victory. There, as if 
it were the most natural thing in the world, sat his rascal - in the 
rocking chair! Skinner silently congratulated himself. So, this was 
the secret. Leave him alone for a while and he will come by himself. 
Basically, it was like luring a wild animal to eat out of his hand. 
Now the wild animal was close enough to reach his hand...

Skinner walked up to the boy and bent down a little. "Hey you," he 
said softly. Fox just looked at him calmly. The sheriff was almost 
giddy. All he had to do was reach out and...

"Finders - Keepers," the boy announced, sprawling his lanky frame all 
over the chair in an attempt to claim it.

"Oh? Losers - Weepers?" Skinner replied, an eyebrow raised mockingly. 
Inside, he was jumping up and down excitedly. His rascal was actually 
*talking* to him again! Fox nodded solemnly, daring the sheriff to do 
anything about the trade of ownership. Skinner grinned and reached out 
to grab the boy under his arms. He gently lifted Fox out of the chair, 
marvelling once again at the light weight of the boy, and sat down, 
intending to place his rascal on his lap just like the previous night. 
He was absolutely dumb-founded when he suddenly had a wildcat in his 
arms.

"Lemme go! Lemme go, you old meanie!" Fox yelled, desperately trying 
to twist out of the sheriff's hold.

Skinner did as he was told and looked at the boy open-mouthed. He had 
not, in a million years, expected this reaction. His heart was 
breaking when he saw the agitation on the boy's face. Maybe he had 
been wrong all along. Maybe he had not found a way to break through to 
the sweet boy he knew from the previous night. Maybe he had 
misinterpreted the whole thing. Or maybe his rascal was just tired. He 
sighed. "Why don't you get ready for bed, hmm, Rascal?" he said 
softly. He slowly reached out a hand and, when Fox didn't flinch, 
rubbed the boy's arm gently. The sheriff smiled reassuringly. "It's 
okay, Rascal. I didn't want to startle you like that. I'm sorry."

Fox stared at the big man, surprised. He had just apologized! That was 
not what he had expected. After all, suddenly being grabbed by the 
sheriff could only mean one thing - another spanking! Just for sitting 
in that stupid rocking chair! Then again, the big man had acted very 
strangely all day so it really wouldn't be too surprising to be 
punished for claiming what was his! When he was honest with himself 
Fox had to admit that he never intended to react as violently as he 
had. Of course, he had planned to get a reaction out of the sheriff so 
he had jumped into that chair as soon as the door had closed behind 
Skinner, but he had never thought that the sheriff would react like 
*that*. Suddenly another thought struck him - what if the big man 
hadn't tried to spank him but merely wanted to share the rocking chair 
the way they had done the previous night? Nah. Fox hung his head and 
nodded once. "It's okay," he mumbled.

The sheriff smiled in relief and rubbed the boy's arm again. "Good. 
Now get ready for bed, okay?" When Fox turned to walk to the alcove 
Skinner caught himself just in time before delivering a playful swat 
to the boy's butt. This would've been the worst thing he could've done 
right about now and he berated himself for not thinking straight. 
Still, he was none the wiser about his rascal and, after that violent 
outburst of the boy, he was at his wit's end. What was wrong with Fox 
and how was he supposed to get through to him?

XXXXX

Fox changed into the hated nightshirt, sighing. Not that he really 
liked the sheriff or anything, but he felt sorry for the way he had 
acted. On the other hand, Skinner seemed to be even more sorry so 
maybe there was a way to take advantage of that!

The boy strolled back into the main room and crouched down in front of 
his notebook as if this were the most natural thing in the world. He 
kept his nose close to the paper in order to hide his big grin, 
thinking that this would make a great opportunity to get the sheriff.

Skinner, meanwhile, stared at the boy in disbelief. Hadn't he just 
ordered the boy to go to bed? Suddenly he realized where this was 
going and he had to grin. No, he hadn't said 'go to bed,' he had said 
'get ready for bed.' And Fox had obeyed. What a cunning little rascal 
he had! The boy he knew and wanted slowly emerged again and Skinner 
decided to take advantage of that. The sheriff tried to make a 
straight face before he turned to the boy. "Rascal? What are you doing 
out here?"

"I'm busy. Can't talk right now," Fox replied, adding a finishing 
touch to his drawing of the lake, the tree and two happy boys. No 
angry sheriff in sight.

"Oh, I see," Skinner said lightly. "You haven't finished your report 
on how mean I am, right?"

The boy looked up for the first time, a combination of worry and 
mischief on his face. "Right," he nodded, turning to the next page and 
beginning to hastily scrawl away.

The sheriff grinned again. So this wasn't the way he had initially 
planned the whole thing but at least he was making a little progress. 
He decided to give the boy all the leeway he needed right now, hoping 
the result would be the same in the end.

XXXXX

Skinner was getting antsy. He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece 
again. Almost another hour had gone by. Not only was it way past the 
boy's bedtime, *he* was getting sleepy as well!

At first the big man had resumed reading his book but he had soon 
given up because he couldn't really concentrate on the story. He just 
kept looking at the boy every other minute or so, hoping his rascal 
would come and open up. Besides, it suddenly occurred to him that the 
boy might think that the sheriff wouldn't want to be bothered while 
reading so he put down the book, thus practically inviting Fox to come 
and talk to him.

Nothing happened.

Fox was busily scribbling away in his note book, filling page after 
page, apparently taking full advantage of the fact that the sheriff 
didn't enforce any specific bedtime tonight. Skinner just stared into 
the fire, racking his brain how to solve the problem at hand. 
Something must have happened that had turned the sweet, lovable 
charmer into a misbehaving, hissing wildcat. With a pang of jealousy 
he remembered the way the boy had thrown himself into Maggie's arms, 
hugging her tightly. *He* wanted to be the one his rascal turned to 
and snuggled up to, just like the previous night. Why did Fox act so 
hostile? Suddenly he realized that he had never explained about the 
lake and what had happened the previous summer. Maybe the boy was 
angry with him because he didn't understand the sheriff's reaction 
when he had found out about the boys' whereabouts. Well, he had to 
tell him about the accident. That might clear things between them. But 
how he was to start that delicate discussion, the big man had no idea.

Suddenly he saw that the boy was stealing glances in his direction 
every now and then, looking longingly at the rocking chair. The big 
man didn't let it show that he had seen those looks but it gave him 
hope. Obviously the boy was thinking about the previous night. The 
sheriff was convinced that Fox had enjoyed being cradled to the furry 
chest, enveloped in his strong, warm arms. Of course it was hard for 
him to admit that so Skinner understood that the boy was hesitant, 
even reluctant. But maybe that was the opening he had been looking 
for.

When an hour had almost passed the sheriff decided to take matters 
into his own hands. He needed to talk to the boy, period. "Rascal?" 
The boy didn't respond so Skinner called him a little louder. Fox's 
head raised and he looked at the sheriff with trepidation in his eyes. 
"Rascal, come here. I need to talk to you," Skinner said softly, 
beckoning him over.

There was 'can't you talk to me from a distance?' written all over the 
boy's face but, after a long moment, he got up and slowly walked over 
to the sheriff. He stopped right in front of the rocking chair, ready 
to flee at any given moment. He didn't know what the sheriff wanted 
from him but the way the big man had acted over the course of the day 
he had a pretty good idea what would happen next and his hurting butt 
cheeks clenched at that thought. Fox bit his lower lip anxiously. When 
Skinner saw how nervous his rascal was, he leaned closer to the boy, 
slowly reaching out a hand to soothe him. "I really only want to talk, 
Rascal. But I think it's very important that we do it now before it 
causes any more problems."

Fox looked at the sheriff wide-eyed, then tears welled up. He quickly 
stared at the ground. Now he definitely knew where this was going. He 
stifled a sob. "Oh, okay. Well, as long as you give me my gun I'll be 
on my way then," he mumbled, taking a step back to avoid the big man's 
calming hand.

Skinner stared at the boy open-mouthed. Then it hit him - they were 
talking about two completely different things! He sighed. "No, Rascal. 
Do you remember what I told you last night?"

"You said that you wouldn't give me my gun anytime soon," the boy 
answered miserably.

The sheriff sighed. "Well, yes. But that's not what I mean. What else 
did I tell you? Right before you went to bed?"

There was silence for a long minute. Finally, Fox murmured, "You said 
you would keep me until somebody came to collect me."

"That's right. So, you won't be going anywhere." Skinner looked at the 
boy intently. "I mean, do I look as if I was about to send you away?" 
There was a hint of hurt in the sheriff's voice. He deeply cared for 
the boy and he didn't want to think of him leaving. Ever.

"Well, how am I supposed to know?" Fox growled angrily. Skinner raised 
a surprised eyebrow. "I don't know what you want from me! Yesterday 
you told me that I would be punished when I do something wrong. And 
today you don't!" The tears that had been shimmering in the big, hazel 
eyes were now slowly running down the boy's cheeks. "I steal and you 
hug me. I go swimming and you punish me! I know that stealing is 
wrong! But going for a swim isn't! Why are you nice to me when I do 
something that you say I should be punished for, and then you come and 
get angry and yell and hit me when I do something that I shouldn't be 
punished for?" The tears were running freely now and the boy's entire 
slender body was shaking with hitching sobs. He turned away from the 
sheriff, facing the fire, his hands covering his wet face.

Skinner sat in his rocking chair, completely stunned. He had never 
guessed that the boy would misinterpret his actions this way. Then 
again, why shouldn't he? The sheriff mentally kicked himself. How was 
the boy supposed to learn anything when he received mixed messages 
from the big man? The sheriff leaned forward and gently touched the 
boy's back. "I'm sorry, Rascal. I guess I owe you an explanation. Come 
here." His hand slowly moved down the boy's arm and he gently grabbed 
Fox's wrist, tugging on it. The boy reluctantly turned around. Skinner 
let go and motioned him forward and, after another long moment, the 
boy stepped up to the big man. The sheriff held his hand out steadily 
and couldn't suppress a broad smile when the boy laid his hand in the 
big paw. Skinner squeezed it reassuringly.

"Now, listen to me. First of all, you *are* being punished for 
stealing. You're right. Stealing is wrong and we have discussed your 
punishment earlier today. Maggie will take care of that. Remember?" 
Skinner looked into the boy's eyes, and Fox nodded hesitantly. "Good. 
I have to admit that it seemed unusual to reward you with a hug. But 
that wasn't for the theft, that was for being brave enough to come 
forward and tell me about it." The sheriff squeezed the small hand 
again. "I also told you that was the right thing to do and that we are 
all proud of you. Remember that as well?" He stared at Fox again and 
received another tentative nod. "Very good. Now, I apologize for the 
way I reacted at the lake. I told you right there that I wasn't 
punishing you for swimming and diving but because you disobeyed me. I 
had told you boys to stay in town and meet me at noon. And I had told 
you last night that disobedience will always be punished, right?" The 
boy nodded. "So, why did I give you a couple of *well deserved* smacks 
on your bare bottom, Rascal?"

Fox stared at the floor, blushing. "Because I disobeyed you by not 
staying in town. And not meeting you at noon," he mumbled.

Skinner beamed. "Exactly. Now, I admit that I reacted a little 
strongly when I finally caught up with you boys and I'm sorry for 
that. It's just that I was so relieved to see that nothing had 
happened to you." The sheriff sighed. "You see, there was a terrible 
accident last summer."

The boy nodded. "Yeah, I know all about it. Alex told me." He 
shrugged. "I understand why you were so angry." Fox looked at the 
sheriff and squeezed the big paw. "And it really wasn't your fault 
that Joey died," he added quietly.

The big man had to blink rapidly in order to keep the tears away. The 
way Fox looked at him, so calmly, so reassuringly, with ancient, wise 
eyes, totally overwhelmed him. "Thank you," he merely whispered. The 
boy shrugged self-consciously and looked back down. After a moment 
Skinner collected himself. "Anyway, as I was saying, I'm sorry for 
giving you mixed messages today. I didn't intent to. But next time, 
just ask me when you're not sure about something. I don't want to deal 
with a bratty little boy all day long again, okay?" He smiled a 
little. Fox gave him a withering look, jerked his hand out of 
Skinner's paw and turned away. Damn! The sheriff mentally kicked 
himself again. He had just made a little progress and then he jumped 
right in and destroyed everything! "I'm sorry," he offered helplessly.

"Well...apologize properly for the 'bratty little boy' and I might 
consider it," Fox replied, still facing the fireplace but with a smile 
in his voice.

Skinner broke out into a huge grin. Apparently he had won, after all! 
His rascal was back! There was only one more thing he needed to 
accomplish before going to bed...

"Well, I dunno...seems pretty appropriate, don't you think? But it's 
really rather long so I guess I'll stick with 'rascal'..." the sheriff 
said, knowing full well that this would cause Fox to turn around and 
glare at him. And he was right.

When the boy faced the sheriff his mouth opened momentarily. The big 
man had scooted to the side, now almost sitting on his right hip, his 
left leg thrown over the left arm rest. There was enough space in that 
rocking chair for a slender body like Fox's to squeeze in next to 
Skinner's broad frame. The sheriff looked at him calmly, giving him 
all the time he needed. His eyes twinkled warmly and he cocked his 
head in way of an invitation. Fox stared into the sheriff's eyes, then 
at the vacant spot to Skinner's right. He swallowed, weighing his 
options. He liked the rocking chair. He wanted the rocking chair. 
Still, the sheriff...

Skinner almost jumped out of the chair in exhilaration when Fox took 
first one, then another tentative step forward and finally lowered 
himself into the tiny spot waiting for him. The sheriff hardly dared 
to breathe. It really was like luring a wild animal to be hand fed. No 
sudden moves. No loud noises. Give him time, make him relax. Skinner 
smiled warmly and Fox hesitantly smiled back before staring into the 
dancing flames in front of him.

They sat like this for several minutes, rocking gently, until the 
sheriff decided to make the next move. "I think I really need your 
help here, Rascal," he said softly.

Fox looked up at him, confused. "My help? Why?"

The sheriff was congratulating himself. His rascal didn't seem to feel 
uncomfortable, quite the opposite, he slowly seemed to relax a bit. 
Next step, try out the next step! "Well, yes. You see, after that 
misunderstanding today..." Fox made a face at that and sighed 
dramatically which caused Skinner to smile. "Well, I haven't told you 
yet but where I used to work before I became the sheriff here I 
occasionally took care of two boys around your age. So I thought I'd 
be well-prepared for you. Guess I was wrong." Fox's face fell 
instantly and Skinner hastened to add, "I've just never taken care of 
a rascal before. So, I clearly need *your* help with this." The 
sheriff poked the boy's ribcage to literally drive his point home and 
Fox instantly tried to squirm away from the onslaught, almost catching 
himself before he giggled. Almost. To Skinner, that was the most 
beautiful sound in the whole world. He let go of Fox, glad that he 
hadn't run straight out of the cabin when he had been touched. The 
boy's face broke out into a broad smile and Skinner sighed in relief.

"Well, rule number one, which is also the most important rule of them 
all," Fox replied, a solemn look on his face, "is to never spank a 
rascal." He poked his finger into the sheriff's massive chest to 
accentuate the importance of that statement, still keeping a straight 
face. He looked at Skinner calmly, daring him to argue that point. 
After all, *he* was the expert on rascals, not the sheriff!

Skinner bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He 
feigned a coughing fit and cleared his throat quickly. Then he leaned 
down and whispered into the boy's ear, "Do you want to know what rule 
number one of taking care of an old meanie is?" He raised his head a 
little, feeling almost giddy when he saw the wide, hazel eyes staring 
back at him. The boy obviously felt right at home and didn't think 
about all the bad things that had happened during the day. Apparently, 
they had reconciled. And now there was a mystery to be solved! There 
were rules about old meanies and Fox didn't know about them! Well, he 
had to learn what they were so he nodded eagerly, leaning forward to 
hear every whispered word. Skinner moved close to the boy's ear and 
whispered, "Never give him any reason to spank you." He sat up 
straight again, grinning at the boy sitting so close to him.

Fox looked at him speculatively. "I don't think that rule exists. You 
just made that up," he stated.

"Says who?" Skinner asked, laughing. "The expert on old meanies?"

"Yeah," Fox replied with an air that brooked no argument. "My butt 
told me so."

Skinner laughed out loud and ruffled the boy's hair tenderly until he 
realized what he was doing. Fox didn't seem to mind though, he just 
sat next to the sheriff staring into the fire. Skinner removed his 
hand slowly and decided to take the next step. Not only did his rascal 
seem to be okay with the whole situation at the moment - also, the way 
he was crouching in that rocking chair was killing him! So he slowly 
inched his right knee forward, gently nudging the boy's legs. Fox 
lifted them as if this were the most natural thing in the world, 
giving Skinner more room to stretch out both of his legs. The boy 
placed his feet on Skinner's left thigh, turning around a little so he 
could sit more comfortably. The sheriff held his breath. That had not 
been the reaction he had anticipated; hell, he hadn't dared *hope* 
this would happen! He looked at Fox out of the corner of his eyes but 
the boy kept staring into the licking flames as if nothing had 
happened.

Another few minutes passed by and Skinner finally took his life into 
his hands. "Rascal? Tomorrow we will bring back the stolen clothes," 
he told the boy quietly. Fox turned his head and watched Skinner 
calmly. "From what you've told me they must belong to Jeffrey Spender. 
I've met his father's foreman in town today so I know that old Mr. 
Spender will be at home tomorrow." He waited but Fox didn't react. He 
just kept looking at the sheriff. "Mr. Spender isn't really famous for 
being...friendly, Rascal. He is quite harsh to his son so I implore 
you to be respectful when you meet him." He gave the boy a hard look, 
hoping to make him understand just how ugly this could become. Fox 
just shrugged and dropped his legs to the floor so he could move back 
to sit next to the sheriff. Then he rested his head on the big man's 
right shoulder.

"That's okay, I know you'll protect me," he simply replied.

Skinner sat there, stunned. The boy was full of surprises. The fact 
that he not only let himself be touched but now even initiated contact 
was enough to make the sheriff burst with pride. He wrapped his right 
arm around the slender shoulders and squeezed them. "Of course I will 
protect you, Rascal. Nobody will harm you." He squeezed Fox again when 
he felt the slight nod on his shoulder. "But rest assured, if you 
misbehave tomorrow old meanie rule number one will be enforced."

Fox sighed. "Yeah, I kinda figured that," he murmured.

The sheriff smiled. "We'll also go and pay for your boots on our way 
back," he told the boy.

"Oh, do we have to?" Fox whined, clearly not looking forward to a day 
full of unpleasant chores.

"Yes," the big man replied forcefully. "But when we get back I have a 
surprise for you," he lured.

Fox raised an eyebrow when he looked at the sheriff. "Will I like it?" 
he asked, clearly expecting something horrendous.

"Yes, you'll like it very much, I'm sure," Skinner laughed. He felt 
completely elevated when the dark head came to rest on his shoulder 
again.

"Okay," the boy replied, still not completely convinced. "But if I 
don't like it you'll have to do the dirty dishes for a whole week!"

The big man chuckled. "Deal, Rascal."

The boy stifled a yawn and turned his body into the sheriff's side, 
trying to find a more comfortable position. Skinner stared at him, 
completely taken by surprise. His rascal was actually nestling! Okay, 
one last step, he thought to himself, hoping that he wouldn't suddenly 
scare his rascal away by his actions. He gently grabbed the boy's arms 
and lifted him a little, quickly moving his own butt back on the seat 
of the rocking chair. Once he was sitting comfortably he lowered the 
boy into his lap, anxiously holding his breath.

Fox yawned once more and snuggled into the broad chest. "Oh, one last 
thing," he murmured, clearly half asleep by now. "I don't really hate 
you."

Skinner wrapped his arms around the slender figure and squeezed hard. 
"I know that, Rascal," he mumbled into the long, silky hair under his 
chin. "I know that."



THE END OF CHAPTER 5.


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