Walter Skinner Ties One OnBy Ursula
Warning: Laughing makes you feel good and live longer.
Author notes: Well, more than a one note, less than a symphony.
Credit to Emily for the stray cat/cum Rat thoughts
Credit to Persuaders for Naked Skinner thoughts and with or without a tie.
A stocking foot swung gently over the armrest of Walter's couch. A bottle of house Chianti rested by the side of the red stained bowl that had formerly held pasta.
Rule number one: never feed a stray rat.
Rule Number Two: if you do, never let them in from the balcony.
Rule Number Three, if you do let them in from the balcony, never let them sleep in your bed.
Rule Number Four, if you do let them sleep in your bed, never let them give you a blow job.
Rule Number five, forget first four rules. Blowjob is mind blowing.
In short, Walter had given into the dark side of the force. Alex visited him whenever he pleased, walking in with his plush ass twitching the tail you didn't quite see. Voice purring as he reviewed the lovely, lusty things he planned to do to your body.
And now with Mulder abducted, it seemed that Alex was always around, looking soulful and sad, disgorging the store of partial truths, mysterious clues, and signs and wonders he had discovered since the last time.
"That pasta was for my dinner, Alex," Walter scolded.
"I put some veal in the oven and I made a big salad. This was just cleaning the fridge so there'd be room for leftovers," Alex said.
Sniffing the air, Walter promptly noticed the subtle invitation painting the air from the direction of the kitchen. He dragged off his tie and tossed it in the direction of his desk. Sitting in his favorite chair, he slumped, head low, frowns creasing his forehead.
Alex snapped out of his studied indolence and carried the dishes in the kitchen. Walter heard the sound of the sink running, the oven door opening and then shutting, and the clink of glasses. Alex came back with a few marinated vegetables, some bites of cheese, and a glass of the wine. Placing the appetizers on the end table, Alex said, "There, you nibble on those and I'll rub your feet. You tell Alex all about it."
Good as his word, Alex untied Walter's shoes and slipped off his socks. A tube of unscented lotion came from somewhere...the man was like a magician popping his bag of tricks out of a hat. Walter took a few bites and a large mouthful of the red house wine. Alex should have been a masseuse instead of an assassin as he would have been a good one.
Letting his body relax for the first time today, Walter was very glad of the perversity of the Gods that had sent Alex to him. You had to forgive a man anything that could about make you come just from rubbing your feet.
"So what happened today? Fouled up reports? Audit? What?" Alex asked.
He never asked about the real business of Walter's life; hell he had enough surveillance on him that he probably could have filled Walter's day planner for him. But he maintained the façade of keeping boundaries between them, nothing but lover's secrets shared in their bed.
"Kersh," Walter replied sadly. "Apparently, Doggett's report mentioned that I wasn't wearing a suit and tie when I joined him on that last investigation. Kersh called me into his office and chewed me out as if I was a green agent. The bastard yelled, "I don't want to ever hear of you on a case not wearing a tie again!"
Sighing, Walter said, "What the hell is the use? I'd have better luck finding Mulder with your help rather than dealing one more minute with that ass hole. Alex, I'm going to resign."
"Right," Alex remarked, his brow lifted in an elfin or devilish slant.
"No, I'm serious. Let Scully and Doggett try it their way. You and I would make a great team, Alex. You probably know that when I set out to be devious, I am very successful and I don't get caught," Walter said. He sat up, sliding his feet from Alex's lap.
"Well, a man's got to do what a man's got to do," Alex said, attempting to run his curious muddled accent into a passable John Wayne. A devilish smile flitted across Alex's face. "So he said he never wanted to see you not wearing a tie?"
Walter nodded. Alex said, "And he didn't mention any other garment. Dare ya, Walter."
With a grunt that might be the first hint of madness, Walter asked, "What do I get if I take your dare?"
"Oh, nothing that you haven't had before," Alex said, leaning back on his knees, mysteriously beautiful face tilting as his lips parted in sweet invitation. He seemed to glow and Walter was mesmerized all over again.
Laughter bubbled up as Walter considered Alex's suggestion. He was going to do it.
And so it was on the next morning, Walter Skinner emerged from a limo, driven by a nattily dressed chauffeur who presented a security pass that was unimpeachable to the guard. He wore a tie, not one of his own conservative issues, but Mulder's largest most flamboyant Salvador Dali collectable. He carried his brief case as usual as he marched straight through to the scheduled meeting with Kersch.
No one stopped him. This was Assistant Director Walter Skinner after all. Besides, not every FBI agent was impervious to manly charms. In fact, a hushed parade of women followed, joined by a surprising number of smitten males. All of this was staunchly ignored by the AD, who was still followed by his new chauffeur and by lovely Kim, whose cheeks were as red as her hair, but whose eyes sparkled with gratification of one of her fondest desire.
The parade stopped at the door of Kersch's private meeting room. Walter went in and walked directly to Kersch's chair. He said, "I'm wearing a tie, sir. Just exactly what you ordered."
Kersh's eyes went down and he shifted in his chair, his lesser, much lesser glories not willing to be compared with the monarch of their kind. "Skinner, you are as crazy as...as..."
The chauffeur smiled in a smarmy way and offered, "Agent Mulder?"
"Yes, thank you, Agent Mulder," Kersh said, taking another look at the chauffeur who seemed vaguely familiar.
Smiling serenely, Walter dropped his resignation on Kersh's desk and said, "Kiss my ass, Kersh."
The chauffeur laughed and said, "Oh, don't do that, Kersh. Only Mulder and I have that privilege."
A cascade of lights greeted them. Kim Cook stood holding a camera in each hand. The admiring crowds shoved to get the best angle for a shot as Walter posed in the doorway, slowly peeling off Mulder's tie and whipping it around exactly in the classic manner of a strip tease artist.
"Home, James," Walter said; "We have work to do."
So, you ask, where is the mandatory spanking?
One week after Mulder was found, when our brave boys finally got out of bed for a few minutes, Scully marched in, yanking Doggett on a choke collar, which was attached to a body part that was hidden beneath his partially zipped fly.
Scully carried a paddle almost the size of her head, but the way she swung it suggested that she knew how to use it. She threw a packet of paperwork at Walter and another at Alex. "Your reinstatement orders, Walter. Yours too, Alex."
"How?" Walter asked, noticing how Mulder and Alex backed up against the wall AND covered their behinds with their hands.
"Pictures," Scully said, whipping out a gruesome portfolio. Kersh in diapers, being changed by the Smoking man. Kersh being spanked by a huge alien clone. Kersh watching every episode of Survivor and drooling over Hatch. "I blackmailed him."
"Where did you get them?" Walter asked.
Dolefully, Doggett sniffed and said in a trembling voice, "Langly hacked them out of Kersh's computer. She...she made me sleep with him! He thought I was coming onto to him when I said something about not wearing pants. I was just trying to be helpful. Some days, when I reform my body from molten metal, I forget to dress myself. You know how it is."
Mulder was taking notes, muttering, "I knew it. I knew it. They're everywhere."
Alex said, "All three of us in that little office? Scully..."
A test smack on Scully's palm evoked a swift change to sweet young agent Alex. Alex said, "How do you take your coffee in the morning?"
Scully nodded as she took firm step toward Walter. "Now, Walter, you have been a naughty boy. Leave me to deal directly with Kersh's bullshit? Pull that stunt on a day when I was out on a medical appointment? If Kim hadn't got me copies of the pictures, it would go harder on you, Walter. Now, just bend over that couch...
Walter's End...movie camera close up please...
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