Rating: NC17 - language, adult themes, smut Category: Pure Trash / Discipline / Implied MSR/ No sex. Warning: Mulder/Skinner Friendship / m/m situations and innuendo Not much redeeming value. If you don't like this kind of thing, or you are underage, go somewhere else . . . NOW! I don't want to hear from you and I don't want to hear from your Mama. Spoiler: none. Summary: Skinner's brother is back and Mulder is in trouble again. Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own Mulder, Skinner or anyone else from the X-Files. I am borrowing them without permission and am obviously not receiving money for this stuff. We all know who they really belong to, CC, Fox and lots of other people but again, not me. Obedience Training By: Di Ann Walter Skinner stood up as the tall man entered his office, a wide and uncommon smile on his face. "Bobby, what brings you to DC and why didn't you call me? Maybe I could have taken a couple of days off work." Bobby Hardin hugged his younger brother heartily. "Business this trip, Walt. I need to talk with you about something important." Skinner directed his brother to have a seat in front of his desk. "So what's going on, Bobby, are you in pursuit of a suspect?" "No. No, it isn't really police business. It's well, more personal than that." The AD felt his stomach tighten, "You're okay, aren't you? Is something wrong with Jason?" Robert Hardin smiled at his brother, "No, Walt, I'm fine and my son is doing great. Actually, this is . . . well, personal to you . . . it's Mulder." The AD sat down in his chair, "Why am I not surprised. He isn't still bothering you, is he? That boy is going to be the death of me yet." Walter took a deep breath, "What has he done now." "Well . . . uh-m-m . . . the truth is, I was wondering . . . that is . . . " Skinner eyed the other man, "Just spit it out would you! What is this all about? And what does my agent have to do with it?" Police Detective Robert Hardin looked into the other man's eyes, "I need to know just how much he means to you?" "What? Who?" "Mulder. Is he important to you? Do you care what happens to him? Is he special to you, Little Brother?" "If you're asking if I've changed my sexual persuasion, Bobby, the answer is no." Skinner tried to laugh him off. Bobby wasn't going to buy it, "Seriously, I need to know, is Special Agent Fox Mulder important to you, personally?" Skinner stared at him for a very long moment. It was not proper for an Assistant Director to have favorites among his ranks. If this were anyone else, he would already be denying any out-of-the-ordinary feelings for Agent Mulder but this was his big brother. He could not . . . would not lie to Bobby. "Yes. Yes, I care about him." He looked at his brother pointedly. "But no one else can know that, including Mulder." Bobby ran his fingers over his smooth head. "I was fairly certain of that but I just wanted to make sure before we put ourselves through this." "Through this? Through what? Bobby, you are not making any sense. If I close my eyes, I would almost think it was Mulder sitting in that chair. Now tell me, what the hell is going on with my agent?" "He's on the trail of a werewolf." "Oh Lord, he's stalking someone else?" "Oh-h-h-h, yeah!" Skinner looked up sharply, "Is this man dangerous?" "Worse than that, Walt. He's a stone cold killer." Walter did not like the look in his brother's eye. This whole conversation was making him feel just a little nauseous. "You know this man?" At his brother's nod, Skinner continued, "How?" "He's one of my pack." Skinner felt the air leave the room. He was dizzy and his stomach was twisting in an odd fashion. He must have misunderstood what Bobby just said. This just like talking to Mulder. "You didn't really say . . . pack?" "Yes, Walter." "As in . . . " "Yes, Walter." "Are you saying that you are . . . " "Yes, Walter. I'm a werewolf. Always have been." "But . . . but . . . Oh, Shit!" Lila's Bar One Hour Later Assistant Director Walter Skinner had just slammed down his fifth scotch and showed no signs of slowing up. This was all Mulder's fault. , that nasty little voice in his mind asked, He felt his brother's familiar hand on his back, "Don't take it so hard, Walt. You knew the kid was a hell of an investigator. Maybe you should listen to him more often." Walter scrubbed his face with his left hand while he held tightly to his drink with his right. "Why is that, Bobby? Are there more bombshells waiting for me out there? Is Mom really a vampire and Dad's liver eating serial killer?" "Nah, Dad gave that up for lent." Skinner glared at his brother, "Very funny. I'm glad you see the humor in this. How did this happen? I mean . . . you . . . " "My Dad, Walt. It's genetic." "There was a werewolf shot down in WWII?" "There were lots of werewolves fighting for their country in WWII and in Nam, and in every other war. We are in every walk of life. Usually good upstanding citizens like me. We can't help what we are. We were born this way." "If Mulder was right, why did you let me use that paddle on him?" "He deserved it! He shot me with a silver dart, for Christ's sake. I had a rash for a month over that one. Not to mention, he was screwing up my undercover investigation. Smart Little Shit, that one. A real pain in the ass." He watched as Walter nodded woefully and swallowed another drink in one gulp. "I wasn't sure what I was going to do with him until I saw the name of his immediate supervisor in his file. Lucky break." "Yeah, right. Lucky. Well as soon as I get my hands on him, I'll have his badge. And then I think I'll just go ahead and kill him myself." "You don't mean that, Walt. You said it yourself, he's the best you have. I'd have to agree. I've been what I am for almost fifty years and no one ever even gotten close to uncovering my secret before and I work with some damn good detectives every day." He looked at Walter out of the corner of his eye. The man was bent over his glass, the picture of hurt pride and misdirected anger. "And besides, you really don't need to worry about it. You're about to lose him anyway." Even through his alcohol fuzz Skinner's head snapped up. "What do you mean, lose him? Why would you say that?" "For the same reason he hasn't returned those calls you've been making to his cell phone every twenty minutes. He's hot on the trail of one Randolf Wolfe." "Randolf Wolfe, the real estate guy. No way, Bobby! Mulder wouldn't dare get near Wolfe. I just put him on a one week suspension because he was investigating Wolf. The man got some of his high-powered friends to complain to the director. Mulder wouldn't stop arguing with me about dropping the case, so I gave him a week off without pay." Detective Hardin eyed him closely, "So, Little Brother, let me be sure I understand this. Mulder wouldn't obey you . . . so you suspended him . . . so you wouldn't have any idea what he was up to. Out of sight, out of mind?" "It's not like that! I thought he would learn to follow orders if I showed him I meant business." Walter knocked back another scotch but slower this time. "Really? You thought that would work? I think you need to step back and rethink the basic training of your pup. He's got you wrapped, Little Brother. That boy is brilliant, has great instincts and is on a fast track to getting himself killed. Sure would be a shame, if you ask me." Walter let his head fall into his hands, "Tell me what you know, Bobby." "Randolf Wolfe is a genius at making money, moves in high places. And does have a great number of high-powered friends. He is also savage and coldly lethal. I doubt your boy can survive this one. Old Wolfe has no qualms about killing a human, especially one that rubs his fur the wrong way, as no doubt Mulder has already done, probably more than once." Skinner jumped up from the bar and swayed slightly. "Come on Bobby, we have to find him." "Slow down, Baby Brother. Mulder's safe for the moment. I had him arrested." "Wh . . . what? Why wasn't I informed? Why didn't he call me?" Bobby looked at him in astonishment, "I'm sure that at this very moment your young agent is trying desperately to figure out a way to avoid you and your rather irregular bureau disciplinary methods." Skinner opened his mouth as if to speak, reconsidered and then just turned on his heel and headed for the door. He heard his brother chuckling behind him. Damn Mulder anyway! Police Department Cell 78C Mulder lay on a cot staring moodily at the dirty, water stained ceiling. He was also keeping one eye on his overly attentive cell mate. The agent had drifted off to sleep for only a few moments and when he opened his eyes, there was Butch'. The big, leather clad man had been very straightforward in his desire to become much better acquainted with Mulder. When the federal agent had refused to give him a name, he had been lovingly christened the in honor of his leather jacket. Every time the big bearded man said it, Mulder cringed. Of course he supposed he had been called worse. Mulder intended to be long gone before Butch decided to throw his earnest impassioned courtship to the winds and just jump the younger man. Scully was with her family for a long weekend. No way was he going to let Bill Scully, Jr. know that he needed to be bailed out of jail. That left the Lone Gunmen who had not answered their phone. Either off hunting EBEs or suffering an extreme bout of paranoia. Eiter way, useless. And Skinner was out of the question for obvious reasons. That man was dangerous. He glanced over just as Butch winked at him. Ew-w-w-w! Mulder had systematically run through his short list of friends and family when there was a commotion at the cell door. One quick look was all it took for Mulder to literally jump to his feet, face paling. He backed up against the cell wall. Shit! Shit! Shit! All the light in the room had been blocked out by Walter Skinner and his equally large clone brother, who were now standing in the open door and both glowering at Mulder. "Si . . . Sir?" It was difficult to talk when you could not even breath properly. Butch smiled at the newcomers. "It certainly took you long enough, Bobby. I think I was falling in love. Such a pretty little punk. I'd like to keep this one." Bobby laughed, "Down, Frank. This little stray is straight and lots more trouble than he's worth. You can do better." "Well, it didn't take me long to figure out the straight part, gotta' love those sweet little virgins. As for trouble, I thought that guard in there was going to mangle him if he didn't shut up. Irritating and disrespectful, it would be so very amusing to teach him some better manners." Mulder swallowed hard, his eyes shifting between the two big men. Then he looked at Skinner and felt his mouth go dry. The man seemed to have a lethal snarl pasted on his face and it was focused entirely on his errant agent. His cell-mate winked at him again. Mulder decided to ease his way around Butch/Frank and take his chances with Skinner. Better the enemy you know. "This was all a mistake, Sir. They think I'm some guy named Jake who killed his girlfriend for cheating on him." "And so you showed them your Federal ID and that took care of the problem. Am I correct, Agent Mulder?" Mulder's eyes widened as he blinked at his boss. Jeez, why could he never get a break with Skinner. The man nailed him every time. Either Skinner had gotten better at this game or he was losing his knack for deception. Skinner eyed his agent. "You do have your ID on you, don't you? After all it is required that all federal officers carry their ID at all times. And of course, you also had your weapon. Am I right?" "Well, you see, I uh . . . needed to carry my dart gun," he saw Robert Hardin's expression darken immediately, Shit! "And I couldn't carry both and well the ID . . . I didn't want to . . . " "Save it Mulder. We need to get out of here before your new admirer decides you'd be too much to pass up. Although I'm fairly certain he would offer me cash money to take you back in a matter of hours. I know the payoff I got from Blevins to take you on wasn't nearly enough." "You . . . you were paid . . . " Skinner sighed at the hurt look in his agent's eyes. Mulder would be much better off if he didn't let his every emotion play for the world in shades of hazel. Not to mention, Skinner was a sucker for that particular look. He grabbed his irritating agent's arm. "Mulder, just shut up. You can explain the rest of this dismal story back at my apartment." "Your . . . your apartment?" Mulder squeaked as he was pulled out of the cell. "Hey, Bobby." Detective Hardin looked around to his wolf-pack mate. "Yeah, Frank." "You get fed up with that pretty pup, I get first chance. Deal?" Hardin smiled and shook his head, "Yeah, sure. Always knew you were a brave man. And, Frank, thanks for keeping an eye on him for me." "My pleasure, Bobby. It was most definitely my pleasure." Crystal City Skinner's Apartment Mulder watched the two men packing up gear. "I can't go fishing. I have a suspect under surveillance. I've never been fishing in my life. I don't even know how to fish, Sir." "Shut up, Mulder, you'll learn. You are going with us and that's final. I don't want to hear another word about it." "This is crazy. I don't . . . " Bobby Hardin reached down and grabbed the agent up by the front of his leather jacket. "Listen," he growled impatiently, "we are getting you out of town. Randolf Wolfe is hot on your heels and I can't protect you here." He gave the agent a hard shake, "Now shut up or I'll use that misshapen paddle you made on your butt right now, then I guarantee that all you will be able to think about is how to find a comfortable way to sit during this trip. Got it?" Mulder swallowed hard and gave him a wide eyed nod. "Good." Bobby gave him another hard shake and pushed him back down onto the couch. "But I don't have any clothes. How long are we going to be in at this fishing cabin anyway?" Skinner eyed the agent, "I have some stuff that my younger brother, Charlie, left here. They should fit you." Suddenly Walter got a terrible thought. He glanced over at his brother, "Charlie isn't . . . isn't . . . " "Bobby shook his head. "No, Charlie isn't like me. Exactly." "Exactly! What the hell do you mean by that?!" Bobby chuckled, "Walter please, we don't have time for this right now. Grab your brat and let's hit the road." "Hey, I'm not a.." Both brothers expressed the same thought in unison, "Shut up, Mulder!" Skinner Summer House Lake Serenity, Wisconsin 2 Days Later Mulder used the toe of his boot to nudge the big lazy snake that was coiled up and sunning himself on a nearby flat rock. Stupid fishing trip. They had been here only one day and Mulder was bored out of his mind. He missed his work. He missed his apartment. Most of all, he missed Scully. Skinner wouldn't even let him call her. He said he had left a message for her with his assistant, Kim, and that would have to do. They had left the four wheel drive truck at a little grocery and bait shop. Then hiked about fifteen miles through rough terrain to reach the cabin. Leave it to the Skinner family to have a summer home that was inaccessible without a manly show of testosterone driven endurance. Mulder nudged the snake again. It really was a beautiful snake. Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder saw something very big and moving very fast coming at him from the edge of the woods. He had no time to react before it hit him hard, knocking him several feet to hit the ground hard with a breath taking thud, his attacker still on top of him. The downed agent struggled frantically to get air back in his lungs while, at the same time, attempting to throw whatever it was off of him. He heard a gunshot close by and froze. Mulder opened his eyes to see Walter Skinner's angry brown eyes glaring down at him from a couple of inches away. "Can't you find anything better to do than play with a Water Mocassin? Those things are deadly, Mulder. I should just take you back and let the werewolves have you. It might save me and the snakes some trouble." Mulder looked over to see Bobby Hardin still holding his gun trained on the dead snake. "Well so much for not letting anyone know we are here." Bobby glared at Mulder. Skinner dragged Mulder to his feet, "You think Randall Wolfe knows where we are, Bobby?" "It's possible. Werewolves are good trackers. When we were kids, didn't you ever wonder why I could always find your hiding places, Walt?" "I . . . I just thought you were older and smarter than I was." "You were right on both counts, Little Brother. And I still am." Hardin laughed at Walter's outraged expression, "And I could also smell you. Go put your problem child in the cabin and make sure he stays there. I'm going to take a look around." "Hey, I'm not a . . . " "Shut up." Skinner grabbed Mulder and headed for the cabin with the agent in tow. "So your brother is a real werewolf. I knew it! I just knew it!" "It would seem so." "And Randall Wolfe is a werewolf, too?" "Apparently." Mulder jerked free and abruptly turned on his heel, headed for the woods. Skinner made a wild grab for him, just managing to snag his upper arm, "Where the hell do you think you're going?" "I have to find out what they're doing. This is the first real authenticated werewolf I've come across. They are really good at hiding their identity" He turned speculative eyes on Skinner, "Hey, you aren't . . . " "No, I'm not and you are not going after Bobby. You are going in the cabin with me. Now move it." "No! I am not a child, problem or otherwise. I am a thirty-seven year old federal officer with a crime to solve." Mulder only got three steps before his arm was grabbed in another steel grip and he was quite literally dragged into the cabin. "I've had it with you, bend over and grab your ankles." "What?" "You heard me. We are going to see just how effective that paddle you made really is. This may open up a whole new career in woodworking for you, Mulder. And if you keep pushing me, you may need one. Now, take your jeans and boxers down and bend over, I said, MOVE!" "No!" "Don't push me, Mulder or when Bobby gets back. I'll let him take a turn at you. Now do what I say or I promise you this will get a whole lot worse." Mulder hesitated a few moments and then lowered his clothing, glaring at Skinner the whole time. "Why did you bring that thing with you, anyway?" Skinner looked up to see a world class Mulder pout. One of his best efforts. It worked wonders with Scully, unfortunately it had no effect on Skinner at all. Too bad Mulder. "Grab em, now! And I brought this because I was sure I would need it. Just call it intuition. Spooky, huh?" Mulder glared at his boss but finally did as he was told. He hated this postition with his butt sticking out just inviting unwanted attention. Skinner placed one hand on the small of Mulder's back and got a good hold on the crudely made paddle. Too bad Mulder's first exposure to wood working had to be a paddle to punish his own backside. He brought the paddle down hard, right in the middle of his exposed cheeks. "Ow-w-w-w! That thing hurts!" Skinner surveyed his work. Where the paddle had landed now showed a bright pink spot with small dots of a deeper red. The many holes that Skinner had forced Mulder to drill in the wood were very effective indeed. He brought it down on the left side this time, slightly overlapping the first mark. Mulder yelped and tried to stand up. Skinner held him easily and the third stoke landed on the right side. He quickly applied two more to the middle. "Walter," Mulder gasped, "please stop. I...I can't take any more." Walter looked at the paddle and then at the livid blisters the holes were leaving on Mulder's skin. He raised the paddle over his shoulder again but felt himself relent. His heart just wasn't in this. "All right but I warn you, if you make me angry again you'll find out just how much damage your little work of art can do." Bobby Hardin stood outside the cabin window and shook his head sadly. His big tough brother may profess to have no more than an admiration for Mulder's investigative skills but something more was going on there. Bobby just wasn't sure what it was yet. Walter had never had kids of his own but he would have made a great dad. Mulder was a little old for that role, although there was something about the man that made him seem innocent and vulnerable. And of course, Walter had always taken responsibility for their younger brothers. He was a natural care giver and a real softy deep down. And that soft spot apparently extended to Fox Mulder. Bobby resigned himself that in order to save the brash young agent he was going to have to take matters into his own hands. His musings were interrupted by the cabin door opening quietly. From his hidden position Bobby watched Mulder slip out onto the porch, carefully close the door and head off into the wood. Okay, he had trained pups before, he could train this one too. For Walter. It was beginning to get dark in the forest but that didn't bother Bobby. His eyes could see where humans could not. He also had extraordinary hearing but his sense of smell was his finest gift. He sniffed the air. Mulder was off to the left and there was a disconcerting scent that Bobby could not identify not far from him. It didn't smell human and yet . . . Shit! Mulder was carefully inspecting the trails that ran through the forest and profiling his query. What would a werewolf be thinking out here? Where would he go? What would he do next? A well muscled arm slipped around his throat and a familiar voice growled in his ear. "What the hell do you think you're doing out here by yourself?" "I'm sorry, Sir, I . . . " "Try again." Ugh oh! "Oh, Detective Hardin. I thought it was . . . in the dark, you sound just like your brother." "That so? Well, I'm not him and you are going to find that out right now." Bobby Hardin then shocked Mulder by lifting his head and sending up a blood curdling howl. He let go of his captive and very slowly circled Mulder, scanning the surrounding trees and growling menacingly. It was obvious that Hardin wanted to make it clear that Mulder was his personal property. The agent sincerely hoped this little demonstration of alpha male dominance would not conclude with Hardin peeing on Mulder's leg. When Hardin was finished, he grabbed Mulder by the back of his neck and marched him back to the cabin. "I always train my pups by making the punishment fit the crime. You want to be out of the cabin so much, outside s where you'll be." Skinner was standing on the porch, looking worried when they got back. Bobby looked at him and growled, "Your brat is a danger to himself and to you. I won't allow that to continue. I'm taking his discipline over for a while." Skinner watched as his brother pulled Mulder over to one of the study porch posts. He deftly snapped a handcuff on the agent's right wrist and promptly fastened the other end of it to the post. Mulder jerked on the cuff but it was held firmly by a rusty U-hook that had been driven into the big square pillar of wood. "Let me go." Mulder glared furiously at his captor. "You didn't want to stay in the cabin. You don't have to stay in the cabin." "Bobby, what are you doing?" Hardin looked over to see Walter looking at him with real concern. "Those five little smacks you gave him aren't going to change his blatant disregard for authority, Walter. Maybe after a night outside, he'll feel more agreeable about listening to you. At least, he damned well better be." Skinner looked up at the sky, "Might rain." "Yes, it might." "Mosquitos will eat him alive." "Probably." "He'll have to stand up all night." "It won't kill him. Maybe if he's tired tomorrow, he won't be so damned much trouble." "What about the werewolf?" "I didn't sense any around. Besides, they wouldn't dare come near the cabin. I'm not the leader of my pack but I'm no slouch either. They'll know better than to get too close." A couple of hours later Hardin came out of the cabin carrying a bowl of stew, a chunk of bread and a beer. "You hungry, Mulder?" Mulder reached out for the food and when it touched his fingertips he knocked it out of the werewolf' s hand. He instantly found himself smacked up against the sturdy wooden post. "You know what, Pup? You're lucky that I love my brother, who for some unknown reason, wants to keep you alive. But if you don't straighten up I am going to tie you to the nearest tree and whip you until you can't walk for a day or two. Walt won't like it but I can guarantee that you will like it even less. I don't want to break your spirit Mulder but you are going to learn some discipline while we're here. My little brother wants to protect you and he can't do that when you won't even try to protect yourself." "I don't need your protection, or his, I can take care of myself." The werewolf gave him another hard shake that made the back of the agent's head impact several times with the post, "Well I don't think so. Why don't you give it a little thought tonight and we'll talk about it again in the morning?" The werewolf stalked off as Mulder angrily kicked at the post with his booted foot. Skinner Cabin 4:00 a.m. Next Morning Mulder was miserable as he leaned against the post. He was exhausted, cold, hungry and still mad as hell. It had certainly been a long miserable night, it had to be early morning by now. He couldn't sit down, the handcuff chain was too short for that and the muscles in his feet and legs were cramping from standing so long. And to add to his misery, it had started to sprinkle rain about an two hours ago. Just a heavy mist but Mulder was now soaked to the bone and shivering. At least when the rain had started the mosquitoes had stopped trying to suck every last drop of blood out of his body. Mulder heard a twig snap over to his right. His head snapped around but he couldn't see anything. Probably some animal, hopefully one that was not bigger than he was or in a worse mood. Of course, it would have to go some to accomplish that little feat. The agent watched the woods for several minutes. When he didn't hear anything else, he went back to his chosen amusement for the evening, feeling sorry for himself. He heard a low growl come from the woods. Oh Shit! He waited a few heart pounding minutes and when he didn't hear anything else he forced himself to relax. He had seen Bobby Hardin look out the window a couple of times during the night so he didn't feel completely abandoned. All he had to do was yell and Skinner and his big bully of a brother would be out here to scare the hell out of anyone or anything. He took a deep calming breath. In the blink of an eye a large shape hurled itself at the cuffed man and sank sharp, tearing teeth into the top of Mulder's shoulder. The pain was excruciating. The agent was so shocked by the speed and all-out viciousness of the attack that he only managed one weak outcry before he lost consciousness. Walter Skinner lay in his bed watching the window for the first sign of daylight. The minute the sky lightened he was going to go retrieve Mulder. He had slept little during the night and had heard his brother go to check on the young man several times. Still Skinner felt uneasy. He knew Bobby meant well but you just did not chain a trouble magnet like Mulder outside for the night and expect to find him in one piece in the morning. When the first streak of dawn lightened the night sky, Skinner hurriedly dressed and raced for the front door of the cabin. "Damn It All To Hell!!!" The scene that met his eyes was shocking but in some way not surprising. A bleeding and battered Mulder hung by one wrist from the pole. Skinner rushed to his agent's side, lifting him enough to take some of the weight off the bruised wrist. Skinner feared it might be broken. Bobby came rushing outside, jeans not yet buttoned and shirt in his hand. "What's wrong? What happened?" "Give me the key, he's hurt." "What the hell?!" Bobby quickly unlocked the cuff from the post. Mulder dropped like a stone into Skinner's waiting arms. The AD lifted him up and took him inside the cabin. Bobby watched as his brother gently laid the injured man on Walter's own bed. He quickly pulled the wet and bloody shirt from Mulder's body. "Bobby, would you get me some water and clean towels. He has blood all over him and I can't tell where it's coming from." When Skinner had washed away the dirt and blood, he gasped. "Bobby, look at this." On the area where Mulder's neck met his right shoulder there was a bloody bite mark. "I thought you said the werewolf wouldn't get to him out there?" Walter looked accusingly at his brother. "He's been gnawed on!" Bobby rolled his eyes, "He has not been on. That is a simple bite. I don't understand it. This is very unusual behavior for one of us. I'm really sorry, Walt, you know I would not have intentionally done anything to get him hurt." Skinner took a deep breath, "Yeah, I know. Mulder just attracts this kind of bizarre thing. I should have checked on him myself." "I looked in on him every hour, Walt. The last time I checked it was a few minutes before 4:00 and he was fine. It's only 5:15 now." Skinner finished cleaning and applying some ointment on the ragged, bloody mark. He turned to his brother, "He has some other cuts and scrapes and his wrist is badly sprained but I don't think it's broken. Bobby, he isn't . . . he isn't going to turn into . . . a. . . . " "No, Little Brother, werewolves are born not made. He'll be fine. It's no worse than a dog bite. And you don't have to worry about disease either, all werewolves are checked regularly. A rabbis virus could spread through a pack and destroy us. All werewolves are very careful about that. And I doubt the wound will become infected. You found him quickly." Bobby placed his hand on his brother's arm, "And Walt, I really am sorry." "No I'm sorry, I overreacted. I can't say I agree with hanging him outside for the night but I do agree that I am too easy on him sometimes. I just can't seem to be consistent where he's concerned. On the one hand I admire his integrity, his intelligence, his amazing instincts but on the other hand, he scares the shit out of me. If he can be right about my brother being a werewolf, maybe he's right about alien invasion, global plague and shadow governments. And I'm terrified that his pursuit of the truth is going to get him killed. He's just so reckless. If he were to die, I think it would be a great loss to all of us. In fact it might mean the end of the human race. Sometimes I feel certain that only Mulder can save us. That without him, we will all be doomed." Skinner looked up to see his brother's stunned face, "Wow . . . I thought a planet saving super hero would be a bigger guy. And not quite so annoying." Walter hesitated a moment and then burst out laughing, "Yeah, so did I . . . so did I." It was late afternoon before Mulder finally opened his eyes. The first thing he was aware of was his boss sitting by his bed. Why was he here? Where was . . . Mulder sat straight up in bed, "Scully!" "It's okay, Mulder." Skinner pushed him back down to rest against the pillows. "Scully is safe at home and you're here in my cabin. Remember?" "Oh. Yeah. Hey, something bit me." "Do you remember anything about that?" "Not really. Something big and fast and . . . hungry. Did he eat much?" "No, Scully won't even notice the scar." "I wouldn't count on that. There's not much that gets past Scully. I wish she were here. I'd like to ask her opinion of this whole thing." "Do you feel like getting up or do you want me to bring some food in here?" "I'll get up, just give me a few minutes. I need to move around a little." After Mulder had eaten, the three men made a through inspection of the area adjacent to the cabin. Mulder was staring up at the clear blue sky through the towering trees when Skinner walked up beside him. "It really is beautiful here, Sir." "Yes, it is. Would you like to come back some time? I could teach you to fish just like my dad taught me. It can be quite relaxing." Mulder eyed his boss, "Can I bring Scully?" Skinner laughed, "Have I broken up a set or something? Yeah, you can bring her. Does she know how to fish?" "Probably. She knows how to do everything, Sir. I think she would really like it here. I think we both would." Skinner nodded. For some reason, he just felt like he had been given a very precious gift. When they got back to the cabin, Mulder was exhausted and headed straight for his bed. The brothers set about making plans to protect the house for the night. Walter and Bobby took shifts on guard duty. Everything remained quiet around the cabin during the night hours. A few minutes after the sun had peeked over the trees, Walter heard his brother coming from one of the bedrooms. "Anything happening, Walt?" "No. Uninterrupted peace and quiet. I could get used to this." "Yeah, right. That's why," Bobby nodded his head toward the room where Mulder still slept, "you surround yourself with such boring people. Right?" "Like I said, he's one of kind. For the most part, my job is paperwork and more paperwork. It isn't where I thought I'd end up." "Regrets?" Walter thought for a few moments and then smiled, "Nah, I gotta' be where I am so I can help the kid save the planet. Speaking of which, I'm going to go check on him." "Damn it!" Bobby jumped up. Now what? "He's gone. Not in there. He better have been eaten by a werewolf because if he just went out there to investigate on his own, I am going to . . . " "Walter, calm down. We'll find him. It hasn't been light that long. He wouldn't have gone out in the woods alone, in the dark." Skinner just looked at him, one eyebrow climbing upward. Bobby sighed, "Okay, so maybe he would. Let's go find him and I'll help you kill him. If we work together, we can probably get in an hour of fishing after we dispose of his body." They found Mulder after an hour of searching. He was laying face down in a clearing less than thirty yards from the cabin. He was out cold. Skinner knelt beside him. "Damn it!" Bobby came up beside him, "Now what?" Walter pointed to Mulder's bloody shirt. He gently lifted it up, pulling it away where it had stuck to the skin as the blood dried. Three long bloody gashes were revealed running diagonally across the agent's back. Bobby set his hands on his hips and turned his back in frustration, "What the hell is going on? How do you think he got out here?" "Oh, he came out here on his own. I don't really think a werewolf would have waited for him to dress before abducting him, do you?" "No. Most werewolves are bisexual. He's good-looking enough that dressing him would not have been a high priority." "Bisexual? Really?" "Well, it's really more a case of not being picky. They just don't care about gender. If it's attractive and they want it . . . " "Why would they just scratch him up like this?" "I... I...well, I think whoever is doing this . . . it's for my benefit. They're trying to tell me that they can get to the people I'm trying to protect. And, Walt, I'm not convinced it is another werewolf." "What?!" Skinner Cabin One Hour Later Mulder sat on the couch, listening to Walter reiterate the lecture he had already delivered on obeying orders. His back was heavily bandaged and hurt like hell. In fact, his whole body was aching. "Assistant Director Skinner, Sir. You can give it a rest now. You did not officially order me not to leave the cabin this morning. You told me not to go out yesterday but you did not specifically mention this morning." Mulder watched as his boss' face turned a nasty shade of purple. The smile just barely discernible on the agent's face vanished instantly as something stiff and tight circled his neck from the back. "St . . . stop! Wh . . . what is that?" He clawed at whatever it was that was cutting off his air. Bobby Hardin hissed in his ear, "Put your hands in your lap, Mulder. Now! I'm not going to strangle you, although I am tempted. Do it, get your hands away from your throat and I'll loosen my hold." Mulder fought his self preservation instincts to follow the command. When his hands were fisted on his thighs, Bobby spoke again. "I have lost my patience, Mulder. This thing around your neck is a collar and a leash." "No!" Mulder gagged again as the leather tightened around his throat. "Yes. If you won't follow my brother's orders on your own then I am going to teach you a little Obedience 101 the hard way. Walt and I are going to hold the end of this leash. You go where we tell you, when we tell you. If we tie it off somewhere, you stay there. You untie it and I promise you will be a very sorry pup. Any questions?" "I'm not a damned dog!" "Well, I am." And Bobby Hardin got nose to nose with the shocked agent and opened his mouth in a fierce growl. All Mulder could see were about a million needle sharp pointed incisors and a long thick black tongue." Bobby pulled back and looked at a pale, wide eyed Mulder. "I see we understand each other now." He handed the end of the leash from Mulder's collar to Walter, who took it with a stunned look on his face. Bobby looked back at a subdued Mulder, "Now for paper training." "Wh . . . what? Surely you . . . " "No, Kid. The bathrooms still down the hall. I want you to sit down over there at the table and write a report for my brother on why you should always, without fail, obey his orders." Mulder jumped up from the couch, "No! That will take all day without the laptop and I want to catch the werewolf." Mulder could not say that he ever saw Bobby Hardin move. One minute he was talking to the man face to face and the next Hardin was sitting on the couch with Mulder bent over his lap. Jeans and boxers at his ankles. Walter was also caught off guard by his brother's amazing speed and had to let go of the least quickly to avoid strangling his agent. "Let me up!" "You could have sat there writing in relative comfort but you obviously need to be taught to recognize an order when you hear it. Now you can sit there on a sore butt." Mulder was amazed at the pain he felt when Hardin brought one big hard hand down on his bare backside. Shit! Mulder tried to struggle off his lap as the big angry man brought his heavy hand down again and again on his tender flesh. The same areas were covered over and over again as Mulder squirmed and gasped, his tears falling on the rough floor. After about fifty hard smacks, Bobby turned to his brother. "Walter would you get me this young man's paddle please?" "No!" Mulder wished his voice wasn't shaking like that. Slap! "Are you arguing with me?" "Ouch! No, Sir!" Mulder heard Skinner return to the room and his heart sank. He knew he would not be able to maintain his silence when that hole riddled paddle started on him. "Twenty-five, Mulder. You count each one and then you write. This could have gone so much easier for you, Pup. Remember that." "Please, Sir. No." Through tears and between appeals for leniency, the agent counted off twenty five slow hard smacks with the paddle he had made with his own hands. By the time he had shouted out the last number he was lying limply over the man's lap, completely defeated. Sobbing pitifully. Hardin reached down and ruffed his sweaty hair to get his attention, "Now you can get dressed before you sit down and start your report or you can sit there all day bare bottomed. Which will it be?" "Dr . . . dressed." A sharp slap landed on his stinging butt. "Dressed, what?" "Oh-h-h! I... I'd like to get dressed, Sir." "That's better. Any more arguments about the report?" Mulder hesitated and got another stinging smack from the paddle for his trouble. "Ouch! No Sir, no more argument." He gasped out a sob, "I'll write the report." "Good. Now get dressed and get busy with your paper training. I want it neat, comprehensive and very detailed. I need to talk to Walter out on the porch and I better not hear one sound out of you." Bobby tied the end of Mulder's leash to his chair after the agent had carefully seated himself. The detective ignored the clenched jaw that spoke volumes of the agent's anger and deeply hidden defiance. Walter was waiting for his older brother on the porch."You were rough on him." "It was necessary. Stubborn kid." "Yeah. What's with the report, Bobby?" "We need him busy and within our sight. Whoever is doing this is using Mulder as a means to give us a message about our inability to protect him," "He wouldn't like hearing you say we were protecting him. He feels he can take care of himself. Which is true, well somewhat true, Scully does save his ass on a regular basis. Please tell me this training of yours is not going to teach my most determined agent to roll over and beg?" "Come on Walter. The pup is tough. But in a dare devil, take no prisoners kind of way. A way, as I said earlier, that could get him killed. It is up to you to teach him to use his strength and courage in a more controlled way. You know that. Remember when our little brother Joe used to sneak off and drag race out on Mission Road. Remember what you did that night you caught him out there?" "Yeah, I remember. He couldn't sit down for a week. Dad never found out about that." "Dad knew. He just thought you handled it the right way. You need to handle Mulder the right way, too. You don't want to turn him into a mewling little lapdog but more like a well-trained German Shepherd. Smart, tough, and cautious. You know he has the potential . . . and the need. It's essential to his survival. Skinner looked back inside to see Mulder scribbling furiously on the paper. "He'll have that done before you know it." "No doubt, like I said, Smart Little Shit. But he's not getting up from there until one of us unties that leash." "So what is going on. Who is doing this? And why?" Bobby breathed in heavily. "Well, I don't think it's a werewolf." "What? But the bite on his . . . " "Just hear me out here. This just doesn't make sense. It isn't our way. I don't know . . . I think . . . " Bobby hesitated looking back inside the cabin, "I think I should practice what I preach. Come on." Bobby walked back into the house and stood by the table that Mulder was using. The agent looked up at him warily with an odd combination of defiance and grudging respect. Walter Skinner had seen that look many times. "Mulder what is your theory about what is happening here? Is it Randolf Wolfe?" Mulder eyed him trying to determine if he should share his theory. He had no evidence to back him up. He sighed. What the heck, he was in trouble with these two on a constant basis anyway. "It's a shape shifting alien bounty hunter." "Mu-u-u-ld-d-der . . . " Skinner threw his head back to look at the rough beam ceiling. Bobby laid his hand on his brother's arm to stop his protest. "Remember Walt, Smart Little Shit." Hardin looked back down at the agent, "Go on Mulder." "I think Randolf Wolfe knew he couldn't get by your defenses and he kind of made it plain the last time he caught me in his house . . . " Skinner instantly turned that odd shape of purple again. "You . . . you . . . I want that lock pick set of yours on my desk the minute we get back to the office, Mulder. You are going . . . " "Walter please." Bobby interrupted Walter's budding tirade again, "Try to maintain until he is finished. You may be used to this kind of thing but I find it fascinating. Of course, I have more reason to believe in the improbable that you do." "Anyway," Mulder continued, "he made it clear that he wanted me but not for a quick kill. I know I really ticked him off with that urine sample I collected but . . . " "You . . . you stole his urine. How?! Why?!" Mulder gave his boss an impatient look, "Of course, I had to steal it. Do you think he would willingly give it to me? Jeez, Sir!" "You . . . how . . . no way could you . . . " Bobby had to shout to be heard, "Walter, stop! Mulder, forget about the urine for a minute. Why does he want you?" "He thinks I'm ," Mulder sneered, "He said it like I was some kind of cute little animal that he wanted to keep as a pet." Bobby nodded his head, "That's exactly how he feels about humans, Mulder. How did you get away from him?" "Well I played along with him. Made him think I wanted to stay with him and have wild doggy sex. When he let his guard down, I sprayed him with Molby's Pet Repellant. Scully swears by it to keep her dog off the furniture. At least she did until I got him eaten by Big Blue." "Mulder, that dog was not eaten by a lake monster. There was no evidence that it was anything other than a unusually large . . . " Walter stopped at a quelling look from his brother. Bobby was beginning to see a pattern here. This was why Walter had such a hard time with Mulder and at the same time was so drawn to him. Mulder, quite simply, blew his mind. And Walter found it both frustrating and wondrously tantalizing. He couldn't see the big picture with the agent because all the little preliminary sketches were just too incredibly intriguing for Walter to ignore. In a life filled with overwhelming responsibilities and tiresome adherence to rules and regulations, his unerringly dependable uptight baby brother had found himself a fascinating wild card. Walter may not be attracted to men but he was with Fox Mulder. And it had nothing to do with sex . . . it was for the agent's beguiling, fasinating, hot-wired mind. Bobby felt he might be getting very close to understanding his brother's uncharacteristic favoritism of this agent. "Mulder, did you shoot him with your silver darts?" Bobby just had to know. Mulder stared down at the well-worn plank floor, "Well yeah, but not more than a couple of times." He looked up, all wide eyed innocence, at the big detective, "Really." Walter started sputtering again but Bobby jumped in. "When did you figure out that Randy wasn't coming after you himself?" "That night when you cuffed me outside on the porch. If it had been Wolfe or any of his body guards, you would have sensed them immediately. I think the alien was using the Assistant Directors body to confuse your sense of smell." Walter couldn't hold his tongue a moment longer, "Why didn't you tell me all of this yesterday, Agent Mulder?" "No proof, Sir. Without hard evidence, you won't listen to me." "Mulder, I always listen to you. Just because I don't always agree doesn't mean . . . " "With all due respect, Sir, you don't. You sit there and move your eyebrows all over your face. You take off your glasses and rub the bridge of your nose. You look pleadingly at Scully, hoping she will stop me or at least explain to you what I'm saying. I learned a long time ago that you did not want to hear from me until I was absolutely sure." As Skinner's face fell, Mulder felt the need to clarify, "It's not just you, Sir, I seldom tell anyone my theories until I think they are ready to hear what I'm saying. Except Scully, of course." Skinner was speechless. He opened his mouth once, reconsidered and closed it again. He took a quick look at this brother and headed for the front door. Bobby looked after him and then turned to see Mulder watching the door with a look of confusion and pure pain on his face. "I . . . I think I hurt him somehow." Hardin sighed heavily, "I'll go talk to him, Mulder. I want you to put aside that report for a few minutes and come up with a plan you think might work against this shape shifter dude. And do not leave this cabin. If you set one foot outside the door, you had better hope that the alien kills you instantly because you will not want me to get my hands on you. Understood?" As Mulder nodded, still looking sadly toward the door, Bobby went to find his brother. Walter was leaning against the huge stack of firewood a few feet from the cabin. "Walter . . . " "I wonder how many people have died." "What?" "His hunches, his wild leaps, his crazy ideas . . . they save lives. Because I was too pig headed to take him seriously, he stopped sharing them with me. Not that I noticed, mind you," the AD snorted in self disgust. "Yes. Yes, I did. I did notice. He started telling me these wild stories after he caught the perp. Just like with you. He didn't come to me and say I found out about the salt, and the silver darts and the flea powder afterward. I shut him off. How many lives have I lost by not listening to him?" "My guess? None." Skinner gave him an astounded look, "Why do you say that?" "Because he didn't stop listening to himself. He wanted to give you hard evidence because that it what he thinks makes you happy. But I don't think he ever took his eye off the ball. If he thought a life was in danger, he took care of it himself and waited for the consequences when you finally found out. Often painful consequences. I think he respects you enormously. In fact, I think your half wild little pup actually likes you." "I don't see why he would but I certainly hope so. And if you are wise, you won't let him hear you call him that." "Yeah, probably not. And Walt, would you have really let him some poor unsuspecting werewolf, if he had told you about it beforehand?" Skinner smiled, "No, I guess not. Can I keep that leash you have him on?" "It's all yours but I doubt it will work for long. He'll figure out a perfectly good reason to ignore it. He's probably out roaming the woods as we speak, dragging the damned thing behind him." "He had better not be! Are you still going to make him write that report?" "No, I've got him on something else. I need to know everything he knows about shape shifting aliens from the planet Zod." "Don't laugh, Bobby. Maybe werewolves are really leftovers from an early alien invasion." "Nah, God created humans and then he said ." Very funny. Let's go see what my spooky agent has come up with. I can't wait to hear this." ****** They walked back into the cabin where Mulder was still scribbling frantically on some paper. Skinner laid his hand on the agent's shoulder and experienced a wave of guilt when Mulder flinched at his touch. He did not move his hand. And eventually he felt the warm muscles under his hand relax. "What have you come up with, Mulder?" "Well Sir, I think that this bounty hunter has been hired by Wolfe. He is a mercenary, so it seems reasonable that he could be bought on a one job basis. Maybe the clone killing business is a little slow right now." Bobby looked at his brother and then back to Mulder, "So how do we get him to back off." "Well, I think we have to give him something. Make it worth his time. A bargaining chip, so to speak." Skinner eyed his agent, "What could we possibly have that would be of interest to an alien bounty hunter, Agent Mulder?" Mulder cleared his throat nervously, refusing to meet the eyes of the other men in the room. "Uh-h-h, well . . . .I thought . . . that is, I think he would take me, Sir." Skinner's fingers dug into Mulder's shoulder, "No way! That is not going to happen. Forget it, Mulder. Come up with something else." Mulder stood, "We have to be reasonable. There are three of us here. If I turn myself over to the bounty hunter, you two are free to walk out. I don't think the alien will kill me. He's had opportunities to do that several times in the past and didn't take them. And I don't think that Randolf Wolfe will kill me either, at least not right away. I think we need to take a chance that I can escape or that you can rescue me before he gets tired of playing with me." Skinner got his hands on Mulder's shirt and pulled him forwards so they were nose to nose. The leash straining around Mulder's throat. "You listen to me, you will not do this. And, " he gave Mulder a hearty shake, "If you think you can wait until we aren't looking and do it anyway, you had better think again. You are not becoming a werewolf's new disposable chew toy. Forget it. Do you understand me, Agent Mulder? " "But . . . " Another hard shake, "Do. You. Understand?" "No, I don't. This is the only way! I will do what is necessary to . . . " Skinner became aware of the heat coming off his agent in waves. He looked closely at his flushed face and glassy eyes. Shit! "Bobby, he's burning up. Why didn't you tell me, Mulder?" Mulder pulled himself out of his boss' grip. "It's nothing. I'm fine. Now, about my plan . . . " "Forget it. You're going back to bed." "I am not going back to bed. I told you, I am fine. Now back off." "Will you both just be quiet a minute? Mulder, sit down. Walter, he isn't going to die in the next few minutes." Bobby eyed his two companions, "Okay, no one is going to trade themselves to Wolfe. He can't be trusted. We need to come up with another plan." They worked on their strategies for the rest of the afternoon, taking time out only to eat a quick meal. By nine o'clock that night, they still hadn't reached an agreement. Mulder wanted to turn himself over to the bounty hunter with the understanding that the two brothers and a heavily armed swat team would attempt a quick rescue. Skinner would have none of it, so the battle raged. Walter was expounding loudly, and at length, on the misfortune that would undoubtedly befall any recusant agent foolish enough to trade himself to a known psycho, when a pale and suddenly too quiet Mulder gave his boss one glassy eyed look and unceremoniously slipped from his chair to land in a lifeless heap on the floor. "Shit!" Skinner reached down and lifted the unconscious agent. "Untie him, Bobby!" As soon as the leash was free, Skinner headed for his bedroom with his troublesome burden. "You're taking him to bed with you?" Bobby said and then had to laugh at the outraged expression on Walter's face. "Yeah, I am. You got a problem with that? No one is getting to him tonight and I don't care what you or he thinks about my methods." Hardin raised his hands in surrender, "Calm down little brother, just asking." Walter glared, "I thought you said these wounds wouldn't make him sick." "I said werewolf bites wouldn't make him sick. I don't know anything about green blooded alien bounty hunters." "Shit!" Skinner's Cabin 6:00 Next Morning Mulder slowly opened his eyes. They felt like they were full of gritty sand and his head was pounding with pain. And . . . there were arms around him. He felt hot and sticky. Why was Scully so unusually warm, he hoped she wasn't sick or something. "Hey Scully, you awake?" "Ex-cuse me?" Mulder leaped off the bed, tangling his feet in the sheets and landing hard on his backside. He lay there for a minute and then carefully raised himself up to give a wide eyed look over the edge of the mattress. Shit! Skinner! What was he doing in bed with Skinner?" "Si . . . Sir?" "Did you just say what I thought you just said?" "Uh . . . well er . . . uh-h-h-h . . . NO!" "I thought not. How are you feeling, Agent Mulder?" "Feel . . . feeling, sir?" "Yes, feeling. You passed out last night and I didn't want to leave you alone. In Nam I learned to take protection and comfort where I could find it. Have you never awakened next to your partner while working in the field, Agent Mulder?" He studied the blushing agent, "Well, I suppose sleeping in Agent Scully's arms isn't the same hardship, is it?" "I...I...I..." "Forget it Mulder. I don't even want to know." Mulder made his escape to the shower while Walter went to the kitchen to find his brother and hopefully some good strong coffee. This was the very reason that an AD should not hang out with their agents. Too much information . . . way too much information. He found Bobby in the kitchen with the promised coffee. As he stuck out his cup to be filled, his brother scrutinized his sour face. "Bad night? Mulder still sick?" "Yes and yes. He kept me awake all night squirming around, sweating one minute, shivering the next. And begging me to miraculously transform myself into his partner. I'd call that a rough night. He ran into the shower before I had a chance to check his fever but from the looks of him, I'd say he's still sick." "I've seen his partner. I kind of wish you looked like her myself." "Humph!" "I think I've figured out a way to get us out of this without giving away your wonder-brat." "At this moment, don't temp me. I'm thinking of tying a big red bow on his head and leaving him on the porch as an early Christmas gift for whoever is foolish enough to take him." "How about if we create a diversion. Make the alien think we are still in the cabin while we sneak out." "I just don't think so, Bobby. For one thing I don't think Mulder would get very far on his own right now. Maybe if that fever breaks . . . which makes me think, where the hell is he. He should have been out of the shower by now." He looked over at his brother. "What? What is it?" Bobby Hardin sat absolutely still, his nose raised slightly, sniffing the air. "Mulder's partner is here." "You're kidding. I swear I think she has planted a homing device in him during one of his hospital stays. I wouldn't put it past her. She can find him anywhere he goes. And what's really weird, he can do the same thing for her. A few months ago he tracked her to Wilkes Land in Antarctica. Do you believe that?" Walter got up as a soft knock sounded at the cabin door. Dana Scully smiled as Skinner opened the front door, "Hello, Sir? You were tough to find, can I come in?' "He's in the first room in the right, Agent Scully. Nice to have you join us." "Thanks, Sir." Mulder stepped out of the tiny bathroom wearing only his jeans and still towel drying his hair. When he brought the towel down from his face, there stood Dana Scully smiling at him. His face lite up, "Scully! Boy, am I glad to see you." He moved to her and wrapped her in his arms. "I've really missed you." "Have you, Mulder?" She purred in his ear, sending sparks running up and down his spine. He leaned away from her so he could see her face, "Of course I have, Scully. Believe me, it wasn't my idea to leave you behind. Skinner wouldn't even let me call you." "Skinner can be such a bully sometimes. I need you to come with me Mulder. We have to get out of here now, just you and I. I think I'm in danger." She looked up at him through thick dark lashes, "Only you can save me Mulder but we have to go right now." "Okay. Just let me tell Skinner and ..." "No Mulder! We can't tell Skinner. He...he may not be who we think he is. There is an alien bounty hunter around here. I think he is impersonating Skinner." "Oh, Shit. Should we warn Bobby?" "He isn't after Detective Hardin. Now hurry Mulder. Don't you trust me, Partner?" Mulder smiled at her, "Of course I do, Scully." "That's too bad, Mulder." And Dana Scully's right fist connected soundly with his jaw and the world went black. His partner caught him in her arms as her face and body began to change into a bigger form, the bounty hunter. He shoved his shoulder into Mulder's stomach and easily lifted him into a firemans carry. The window shattering into a thousand pieces as he carried his prize outside. "Oh Shit!" Bobby yelled just as the sound of breaking glass reached the two brothers in the kitchen. "That wasn't Agent Scully!" Walter was instantly on their feet and moving toward the front door. Too late. Mulder was gone.