A TIME TO HEAL 
By Harrahgirl (SSebas1275@aol.com) 



(Type of Story: Skinner/Reyes Relationship-based 

Rating: R for adult situations 

Timeframe: This story takes place during the period immediately 
following the funeral of Fox Mulder in Dead/Alive, but before 
his exhumation and eventual resuscitation. 

Disclaimer: This story was a special request by the hostess of 
the eXit Forum. The characters of Walter Skinner, Monica Reyes, 
Dana Scully, John Doggett, and Fox Mulder are the property of 
1013 and Fox Broadcasting. Feedback is welcome.) 



There is something comforting about the anonymity of a large 
metropolitan airport. It is so easy to get lost in the crowd, 
just become one among many. A meaningless name on a passenger 
manifest ... a face in the boarding area ... a body filling a 
seat on a large jetliner. To be just one of many. 

For Assistant Director Walter Skinner, that anonymity was just 
what he was seeking. A chance to be just an ordinary guy ... a 
face in the crowd. Not a man who had to make the life or death 
decisions that put the lives of his co-workers, subordinates and 
friends on the line. As he stood in the line waiting to board 
the plane, he took a curious kind of pleasure in the impersonal 
courtesy of the attendant who checked his boarding pass and 
stated "Enjoy your flight," in a tone of voice that indicated 
that to her, he meant no more than any other passenger. 

Skinner boarded the plane and settled into his first-class seat, 
buckling the seat belt and stretching his long legs out before 
him. Flying first class was a luxury that he felt he had earned 
after his years of service. He wasn't traveling on business ... 
this was a vacation and he intended to start it off right by 
traveling in comfort. 

Reaching into his attaché, he pulled out the glossy brochure 
containing the brightly-colored images of his destination spot 
... The Phoenician Resort in Arizona. Six days in the Southwest 
desert ... sunshine, golf, horseback riding, sightseeing ... 
pure relaxation ... something he felt he desperately needed ... 
and yet felt he had no right to enjoy. 

As the plane began to taxi down the runway, he looked out the 
window but his eyes failed to see the view as the plane took off 
and circled the picturesque Washington D.C. skyline, Instead he 
saw the inside of his office, himself sitting at his desk and 
the small, pale red-haired woman in black sitting opposite him. 
He replayed their conversation in his mind as the plane soared 
into the sky. 

"Are you sure you're ready to come back to work, Agent Scully?" 

"Perfectly sir," Special Agent Dana Scully replied, her blue 
eyes meeting his. "It's been two weeks since ..." her voice 
caught here and the blue eyes filled with tears. "Since his 
funeral, sir. I have to try to move on." 

"Look, if you need more time you have plenty of leave," Skinner 
had continued, his concern for her evident in the gentle tone of 
his voice. "Given all that's happened ... and your pregnancy ... 
I just don't want to see you take on any more stress." 

"I'm going to be needing that leave in a few more months, sir, 
when my baby is born," Scully answered. "And sitting at home 
isn't going to help me adjust to Mulder's loss any better ... or 
miss him any less." 

Skinner winced at the raw pain in Scully's voice "As long as 
you're sure ..." 

"I am, sir," Scully replied. "I need to try to get my life back 
to normal. To adjust before my baby comes." 

"It's just that I am going to be on leave myself next week," 
Skinner explained. "I would have preferred to be here during 
your first days back ... I know they're going to be difficult." 

"They would be difficult either way, sir," Scully told him with 
a small half-smile. 

Skinner sat quietly, thinking it over, "Look, why don't I 
postpone this trip?" he asked. "That way I'll be around ..." 

"Please don't, sir." Scully protested. "Agent Doggett will be 
here and you know he'll watch out for me. And you need some time 
away yourself. I know this hasn't been easy for you, either. I 
know you miss him, too." 

In the end, he knew Scully was right. Even though he felt guilty 
about it, Skinner also knew that he needed this time away. Maybe 
if he put some distance between himself and the things that had 
happened during the past weeks ... months ... maybe then the 
images would stop haunting his every waking and sleeping 
thought. 

With a sigh, he put the brochure away and leaned back in his 
seat, closed his eyes, and willed himself to relax. After all, 
it was going to be a long flight. 

It was a dark, cool night in the Oregon forest. Skinner stood 
alone, shining his light in the darkness, trying to locate his 
missing agent, "Agent Mulder!" he called out in the night. 
Hearing no reply he called again, "Agent Mulder!" 

All of a sudden, he heard a loud noise behind him and to his 
right. He whirled around in time to see the ground shudder and 
shake, then a bright light and, in the middle of that light ... 
a large object that rose into the night sky. An object that 
could only be identified as a spaceship that rose higher and 
higher, the bright light become brighter and all encompassing as 
the craft climbed. Then, in the blink of an eye, the light 
disappeared and the ship was gone. Walter Skinner was left 
standing in the middle of the dark, cold, empty forest ... 
alone. And with the sickening realization that Fox Mulder, the 
agent under his command, the man he was there to help protect, 
was gone with the spaceship ... 

... Skinner awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright and 
breathing heavily. It took him a moment to adjust to his 
surroundings ... the deep leather seat in the first-class cabin 
of the jumbo jet. A flight attendant appeared at his side almost 
instantly. "Are you all right, sir?" 

Skinner willed his breathing to return to normal and looked up 
into her concerned face, "Yeah ... guess I dozed off and forgot 
where I was when I woke up." 

The attendant's look of concern vanished and was replaced by her 
best professional smile, "Can I get you anything, sir?" 

"Yes, you can. I'd like a Scotch on the rocks, please," Skinner 
replied, giving her a false 'see, I'm all right' smile. 

As the attendant turned to go get the drink, Skinner sighed and 
settled back into his seat. He had hoped that the dreams 
wouldn't follow him on this trip. It looked like those hopes 
were about to be dashed. 

"Will you be dining alone, sir?" 

The hostess at the entrance to the Terrace Dining Room asked the 
question as Skinner approached. Ruefully, he nodded in agreement 
and followed her to a table that overlooked the softly lit 
croquet lawn. He slipped into his chair and accepted the menu 
that she passed to him with an impersonal, "Your server will be 
with you shortly ... I hope you will enjoy your meal." 

Skinner looked about the terrace, taking in the view and idly 
glancing at the tables. And then he noticed ... on the other 
side of the room, at a table near the railing overlooking one of 
the pools. There, sitting alone, an attractive, dark-haired 
woman who had just laid down her menu and was looking out over 
the railing. It took him a moment but then he remembered her 
name ... Reyes. Monica Reyes. 

He couldn't believe it. Special Agent Monica Reyes ... a friend 
of John Doggett's and one of those who had been a part of the 
team that had found Fox Mulder. How was it possible that when he 
had traveled thousands of miles across the country to a place 
that he hoped would help him forget those images, he would run 
into someone who by her very presence would remind him of all 
that had happened. 

As though she sensed that someone's eyes were on her, Monica 
turned from contemplating the view of the pool and looked in his 
direction. He could tell that she recognized him by the way her 
dark eyes widened and the sudden "O" shape her mouth made. There 
was no getting away for Skinner now. 

A gentleman to the core, Skinner knew what was expected of him. 
He stood up from his place at the table and walked across the 
room to where Monica sat. He quickly arranged a conventional 
smile of greeting upon his features, "It's Agent Reyes, isn't 
it?" 

Monica looked up at him, a smile on her own face as she extended 
her hand. The difference was that her smile extended into her 
eyes, while his did not. "Yes, Monica Reyes. I'm surprised you 
remembered my name, sir," she replied. "It is Assistant Director 
Skinner, right?" 

Skinner took her hand in a conventional handshake, and he was 
surprised at the warmth and firmness of her handclasp, "Yes, 
Agent Reyes," he answered. "I thought I'd stop by and say 
hello." 

"I'm glad that you did, sir." Monica told him. "Are you here on 
business?" 

"No, I took a few days leave," Skinner replied, "And you?" 

"The same," Monica answered. "Every year I let it build up until 
I hit that 'use or lose' stage. And after the last few weeks I 
needed to get away for awhile." 

At that moment, the server approached, "Are you ready to ... oh, 
I'm sorry," he paused, slightly embarrassed. "Will the gentleman 
be joining you, ma'am?" 

"Oh, I'm sure he has a companion ..." Monica began. 

"Actually, I'm alone," Skinner spoke up impulsively. "Now why 
did I say that," he thought to himself. 

"In that case, sir, if you'd care to join me," Monica indicated 
the chair opposite her. 

Skinner knew what the expected answer was and he gave it, "Thank 
you, Agent Reyes. I'd enjoy that," and he sat down in the chair 
opposite her. 

"Would either of you care for a cocktail?" the server asked. 

"A Cosmopolitan for me, please," Monica replied. 

"Glenlevit on the rocks," Skinner answered. The server left a 
menu behind for Skinner and disappeared to get their drinks. 
Skinner opened up his menu and glanced at it, quickly deciding 
what he wanted. Closing the menu, he laid it aside and looked 
back across the table at his dinner companion. Reyes was 
watching him speculatively, a strange half-smile on her lips. 
"You're already decided?" she questioned. 

"I've learned to make decisions quickly," Skinner replied. 

"Ah, that is a trait that has probably been helpful for you in 
your work," Reyes observed. 

"Yes, to some degree," Skinner said thoughtfully. "As you have 
probably already learned, Agent Reyes, an inability to make 
quick decisions can be deadly in our job." 

Reyes inclined her head in a nod as the server approached with 
their drinks and set them before them. "Are you ready to order?" 
he inquired. 

Skinner indicated Reyes, who quickly placed her order, "I would 
like the Grilled Tomato Gazpacho, followed by the Grilled 
Colorado Lamb, rare please." 

"I'll have the Caesar Salad and the Grilled Prime New York 
Steak, rare," Skinner followed. 

"Would you care for a bottle of wine with your meal?" the server 
asked. 

Skinner glanced at Reyes, who nodded assent. He picked up the 
wine list and scanned it quickly, "We'll have a bottle of the 
Chateau Haut Medouc Sainte-Croix Du Mont, '96," he ordered. 

The server picked up the menus and disappeared quickly. Reyes 
smiled across the table, "Wow! I'm impressed." 

"By?" Skinner asked. 

"You made a decision on the wine pretty quickly, too," she 
commented. "Is that because you know your wines ... or was that 
another example of your speed-decision-making skills?" 

Skinner found himself smiling back, "Actually, I learned to 
appreciate good wine years ago. I'm not a connoisseur, but I do 
know the difference between red, white and blush wines." He 
picked up his drink and sipped at it. "So Agent Reyes, you're on 
leave. What made you decide to come here?" 

"I've been here before," Reyes answered. "It's a wonderful place 
to come when you want to get away from everything. You?" 

"A friend of mine recommended it," Skinner replied. "Said the 
same thing you did ... it's a great place to go to get away from 
it all. He said the golf course here is fantastic." 

"I guess it is, it's pretty popular," Reyes replied, after 
sipping her drink. "But I've never been much for golf." 

"Then what do you do here?" Skinner asked. "Visit the spa and 
shop, I suppose." 

"Now that assumption is borderline sexist," Reyes replied with a 
grin. "And yes, I do spend a little time at the spa here and I 
do shop ... but I don't shop here. I prefer to go into 
Scottsdale or better still go up into Sedona. And there are some 
wonderful places on the Indian reservations. Lucia's is one of 
my favorites ... a combination Mexican/Indian gift shop and the 
best Mexican food this side of the border." 

"Sounds good ... at least the Mexican food part of it," Skinner 
replied as he finished his drink. 

"If you'd like, I can take you there, sir," Reyes replied 
impulsively. Then she paused as though realizing whom she was 
speaking to. "That is ... I mean ..." 

Skinner understood; she was a field agent, he was an assistant 
director at the national headquarters. She was trying to be 
friendly but it could so easily be taken as putting herself 
forward, "Relax, Agent Reyes," he said with a half smile. "I 
appreciate the offer. And I just might take you up on it." 

Reyes smiled at him with relief as the server approached them 
with their first courses. Skinner dug into his salad as she 
spooned her gazpacho. He took the opportunity to observe her 
more closely, the high forehead and cheekbones, the almost 
angular bone-structure of her jawline, softened somewhat by the 
loosely flowing dark hair. She had taken him at his words and 
WAS relaxed, he could tell by the posture of her body, not stiff 
but loose and comfortable. He liked seeing that; liked seeing 
that he had put her at her ease. And suddenly he found himself 
wanting to know more about her. 

"You know, Agent Reyes, we went through quite a bit together 
recently, but it occurs to me that I don't know anything about 
you," he told her. 

"There's not really that much to tell, sir," Reyes answered. 

"I find that difficult to believe," Skinner said with a raised 
eyebrow. "For starters, I remember Agent Doggett said that you 
and he had worked together." 

Reyes took a deep breath and he saw look of ineffable sadness 
come into her eyes. "Is something wrong, Agent Reyes?" he asked. 

Reyes looked down at her plate for a moment and then looked back 
up at him, her eyes meeting his frankly. "Did John ... Agent 
Doggett ... happen to mention the case we worked on?" she asked. 

Skinner noted her unconscious use of Doggett's first name as 
well as the sad look in her eyes. "No, he didn't," he replied. 
"Would you care to tell me." 

Reyes paused for a moment as if to gather her thoughts, "Were 
you aware that Agent Doggett had a son?" she asked. 

"Yes, I believe I saw something about that in the personnel 
file," Skinner replied. "I read that he died a few years ago ... 
it's very sad to lose a child." 

"There's more to it than that sir," Reyes said quietly. "Agent 
Doggett's son was kidnapped. Three days later, he was found 
murdered." 

Skinner felt sickened at her words. He had never had a child of 
his own ... that was one of the many things he and Sharon had 
missed out on ... but he knew that to lose a child was the most 
horrible thing a parent could endure. And to lose a child in 
that way ... "I'm sorry, Agent Reyes," he spoke softly. "I 
didn't know. Did Agent Doggett share that with you?" 

Once again, Reyes looked down at the table. When she looked back 
up, although her face was calm, her eyes were bright with tears. 
"I was with the New York Bureau office at the time and was the 
agent assigned to the case," she told him, trying to keep her 
voice steady. "Agent Doggett was with the NYPD then ... missing 
persons ... and he worked right along with us. I was there the 
day we found his son's body ... and was there when he saw him," 
her voice cracked on the last few words. 

Skinner felt a sudden rush of compassion for both the agent back 
in Washington that he knew so well and the young woman sitting 
across from him who had obviously taken the case to heart. 
Without thinking, he reached out across the table and laid his 
hand over hers, "That must have been very hard for you ... 
Monica," he told her gently, his voice filled with sincerity. "I 
can't begin to imagine what it was like." 

Reyes blinked back the tears and her fingers moved in his, 
returning his warm clasp. "It was ... heartbreaking," she 
answered. "I know we're supposed to be professional and all, but 
when I saw what it did to John ... the fear and hope he went 
through those three days while we searched. And then when we 
found Luke ... what it did to him ..." her voice trailed off as 
she fought back the tears. Skinner watched her silently for a 
moment, allowing her to regain her composure. When she spoke 
again her voice, although subdued, was steady, "Anyway, that's 
how we met. And we've stayed in touch since then." 

At that moment, the server came back with their entrees. The 
time it took to remove the appetizer plates, place the entrees, 
and pour the wine gave both Skinner and Reyes the opportunity to 
back away mentally from the topic of Doggett and his son. When 
the server left, Reyes was once again completely calm and 
composed, her habitual friendly half-smile back on her face. 
"Looks good, doesn't it sir?" she commented as she began to 
slice into her lamb. 

Skinner popped a piece of his steak into his mouth, chewed 
thoughtfully, grinned and swallowed, "I don't know about yours, 
but mine is excellent." 

As they ate they continued to chat. With the topic of Doggett 
and his son finished, Reyes filled him in on her background: her 
adoption and upbringing in Mexico, her college days, 
introduction to the FBI in New York and more lately her field 
assignment in New Orleans. "I'm a bit of a black sheep, down 
there," she commented ruefully. 

"Just why is that?" Skinner asked her, sincerely interested. 

"Well, as I told Agent Scully, I'm very open to the different 
possibilities," Reyes replied. "I do believe that there are 
forces at work in this world that we do not understand. And I 
don't believe that we are alone in the universe. That doesn't 
sit too well with much of the management in New Orleans. I envy 
Agents Doggett and Scully, getting the opportunity to work on 
the X-Files cases. I'd give a lot for that opportunity." 

"It's too bad there isn't an opening, you would be a welcome 
addition," Skinner told her, and he meant it. "I had the chance 
to see you at work in the field ... you are a very competent 
agent. And your enthusiasm and understanding of the paranormal 
would make you an ideal fit in that unit. I would be proud to 
have you on the team, if it were possible." 

Reyes blushed and smiled, "Thank you, sir. I'll take that as a 
compliment." 

Over coffee, Reyes spoke up, "Sir, I've talked your ear off this 
evening. I hope I haven't bored you." 

Skinner smiled at her, "Not at all, Agent Reyes, I've enjoyed 
it," he assured her. And in fact, he had. It had been a long 
time since he had shared a companionable meal with an attractive 
woman, and Reyes had made him forget for a few hours the sadness 
and sense of failure that had been haunting him for weeks now. 
"You have been a wonderful dinner companion." 

"Still, I feel like I've monopolized the conversation here, and 
you've been very kind to listen to me," Reyes replied. "I should 
have warned you that once I start talking I'm hard to shut up" 

"Really, Agent Reyes, it's all right ...in fact ..." he began, 
but she interrupted. 

"I wish there was something I could do to ...oh, sorry sir," she 
halted abruptly as she realized that she had cut him off. "You 
were saying ..." 

"I was saying that I enjoyed our dinner so much that I was 
wondering if you'd care to have lunch with me tomorrow," Skinner 
continued. "I have a golf game in the morning, but I'll be free 
all afternoon. I would very much like to see that place you were 
talking about earlier ..." 

"Lucia's?" Reyes asked, "I'd love to take you out there, sir. 
I'd really enjoy it." 

"I'll be free about 12:30," Skinner continued. "Why don't we 
plan to meet then. Oh ... and Agent Reyes ..." 

"Yes sir?" she questioned. 

"Since we're going to be spending some time together tomorrow, 
why don't you drop the 'sir," he asked. "We're both on vacation 
here ... my name is Walter." 

Reyes face lit up with one of the most beautiful smiles he had 
ever seen. It seemed to radiate from somewhere deep inside her 
... making him actually feel her smile. "You're right ... 
Walter. As long as you call me Monica." 

"You've got a deal," he said as he rose from the table. "Let me 
walk you back to your room ... Monica." 

"Over here!" 

Skinner heard John Doggett's voice call out from a distance. 
Then he saw Doggett's flashlight, signaling his location in the 
darkness. Skinner took off quickly and his search team followed. 

As he closed the distance between them, he saw Doggett kneeling 
beside a figure on the ground and he felt a sick tightening in 
his stomach. "Don't let this be what I think it is," he thought 
to himself as he came in closer. Doggett looked up at him as he 
approached, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and 
anger, "It's Mulder, sir," Doggett said softly. "We're too 
late!" 

Doggett stepped back to allow Skinner his privacy at this 
moment. Skinner knelt beside the naked, huddled body and gently 
turned it over, already knowing what he would find yet needing 
to see before he could believe it. The sight of the white, 
scarred, tortured face confirmed his worst fears. It was Mulder 
... dead. 

He looked down at the familiar features wordlessly for a moment, 
trying to process the conflicting emotions that raged within 
him. Shock ... anger ... grief ... and above all guilt. "It's my 
fault," he thought to himself, "I let you down, Mulder. I lost 
you that night. If I hadn't ..." 

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt a hand press his 
shoulder firmly. He looked up at Doggett's face and read the 
sympathy in the man's eyes. "I'm sorry, sir," Doggett spoke 
quietly. "I hoped it wouldn't turn out this way." 

Skinner nodded, closing his eyes to blink back the sudden tears 
he felt stinging them. He rose to his feet slowly, suddenly 
feeling very old. "We all hoped, Agent Doggett," he murmured. 

The men were silent for a moment, both looking down at the 
naked, battered body of Fox Mulder on the ground. Then Doggett 
spoke again, "Agent Scully, sir! Someone needs to tell her ..." 

Skinner knew that the duty would be his, and tried to prepared 
for what would be one of the most difficult tasks of his life 
... 

. . . . . . . He shot up in his bed and glanced around wildly. 
Even in the darkness he could tell he wasn't in his familiar 
bedroom. Where ... what ... then he remembered. Vacation. The 
resort. "Just a dream," he thought. "Just like all the others 
...a memory which has become a nightmare." He glanced at the 
clock on the nightstand, which registered 3 a.m. With a long 
sigh, he laid back down amongst the soft pillows and the now-
wrinkled sheets to try to get more sleep ... hopefully without 
the dreams. 

Skinner glanced at his watch as he stood in the lobby. 12:25 ... 
five minutes early. He had arranged to meet Reyes in the lobby 
and from there they would head on out to Lucia's. He found 
himself curiously eager to see her again. He had enjoyed his 
dinner with her the previous night; those hours suddenly seemed 
very precious since during that time he had not thought about 
the situation he had left behind in Washington. Those thoughts 
and memories haunted him in his sleep and he found them still 
there when he awakened. Even on the golf course this morning 
they were there, always in the back of his mind, ready to 
pounce. He supposed it was foolish to expect that a mere change 
of scene would cause them to disappear; still he had hoped ... 
but so far the only time he was free of them had been that 
dinner with Monica Reyes. 

The elevator doors opened and he saw her. For a few moments he 
was free to observe her without being seen, and the sight made 
him smile. She certainly did not look anything like an FBI 
agent. Dressed in a brightly colored cotton skirt, pale pink 
peasant shirt, with sandals on her feet, hair tumbling to her 
shoulders and carrying a straw bag, sunglasses and straw hat, 
Monica Reyes could have been any tourist, ready for an afternoon 
of sightseeing. He saw her eyes dart searchingly about, and then 
she spotted him and waved, flashing him a smile of greeting. A 
moment later, she was at his side, "Hi there," she exclaimed. "I 
hope I'm not late." 

"No, I was actually a few minutes early," Skinner reassured her. 
An old habit from my days in the Marines." 

Reyes was quiet and he noticed that she was looking him up and 
down rather appraisingly. "Is there anything wrong?" he asked. 

Reyes shook her head, smiling. "Nothing's wrong," she replied. 
"It's just that I don't think I've ever seen you dressed this 
casually before. I like it." 

Skinner realized that just she was right ... she had never seen 
him out of what he thought of as his "FBI Uniform" ... suit, 
dress shirt, tie and dress shoes. Today he was wearing jeans, 
short-sleeved T-shirt and Nikes ... a definite difference. "It's 
funny, " he commented, "I was thinking the same thing when I saw 
you." 

"Well, we are on vacation, after all!" Reyes exclaimed. "But I 
do have one suggestion, if you don't mind ..." 

"What's that?" 

"The afternoon sun is awfully strong," Reyes said with some 
concern. "I'd hate to see you get a sunburn ..." 

"I'm wearing sunscreen," Skinner interrupted. "And my skin is 
pretty tough, anyway." 

"I was thinking of the top of your head," Reyes continued, 
blushing slightly. "It wouldn't take long for it to burn, even 
with sunscreen." 

Skinner realized that was something he hadn't thought of. "You 
know, you're right," he agreed. "Unfortunately, I didn't bring 
any kind of a hat with me ..." 

"I thought you might say that," Reyes said as she reached into 
her large straw bag and pulled out a white paper bag. "I stopped 
in the gift shop and picked this up for you. I hope you don't 
mind." 

Skinner accepted the bag, reached in and pulled out a cap with 
the Phoenix Suns logo. He found that he was oddly touched by her 
thoughtfulness and consideration ... not many women would have 
taken the trouble. He reached up and put the hat on his head, 
"Well, how do I look?" he asked with a grin. 

Reyes grinned right back, "You look mahh-vel-ous," she drawled 
out. "Are you ready to go, then?" 

"Sure, Monica," he replied, using her name for the first time 
since the previous night. "Lead me on to Lucia's." 

Although under ordinary circumstances Skinner would have taken 
the wheel, it made more sense for Reyes to drive since she knew 
exactly where they were going. As they headed west on Interstate 
10, Skinner found himself mesmerized by the beauty of the 
western desert. The sun shining in a cloudless sky beat down on 
the various browns and reds, giving them a warm hue that was 
offset by the occasional deep yellows of brush or green of 
cactus and palms. It almost seemed wrong to be traveling in an 
ultra-modern convertible ... he felt that they should be riding 
horses or crossing the desert in a covered wagon. He felt that 
if he looked very closely he would be able to see the travelers 
... Indians and settlers ... who had taken this journey before 
him. 

Skinner realized suddenly that quite a bit of time had passed 
since he had spoken a word to Reyes. He turned and saw her 
concentrating on the road, but she had her habitual half-smile 
on her face. "This is impressive scenery," he commented, trying 
to make conversation. 

Reyes glanced over at him, "Yes, it is," she replied "Whenever I 
drive out here, I keep thinking about all those history classes 
I took where we talked about the Great West. It's amazing to 
think that we're traveling in an hour a route that it took 
almost a week for covered wagons to make." 

"You're kidding!" Skinner exclaimed, regarding her with new 
eyes, "I was just thinking the same thing. All the stories I 
read about the early settlers ... the cowboys, and the Indian 
battles." 

"I suppose anybody with any imagination or intuition thinks 
about that," Reyes said enthusiastically. "Whenever I drive out 
here, it's like I can feel the spirits of the people who have 
been here before us. I'd swear if I looked off to the right, I 
could see a wagon train heading out into the mountains. Or off 
to the left I can almost see a Navajo hunting party mounted on 
their ponies, chasing down a herd of buffalo." 

Skinner was astonished to find that her thoughts had mirrored 
his. "You amaze me, Monica." 

"Really, how so?" Reyes enquired. 

"I know this may sound like I'm stereotyping, but most women I 
know would have just said it's great scenery," Skinner replied. 

Reyes laughed and Skinner noted that her laugh had an almost 
throaty musical tone to it, curiously warming to his spirit. 
"I'll take that as a compliment ... Walter," she replied, using 
his name for the first time that day. "Maybe it's because of my 
background and training, or maybe it's just my nature. But while 
the scenery is beautiful, it's also very much alive. So much has 
happened here, so many people have traveled and lived and died 
here that it's full of their spirit and their essence. At least, 
it is to me." 

"So anyway, tell me about this place we're going ... Lucia's," 
Skinner prompted. 

"Lucia Valesquez is a Mexican-American," Reyes explained. "Her 
parents, Jorge and Estrelita Delgado settled here during the 
Depression and they opened up a small Mexican restaurant across 
the highway from the Navajo reservation. The restaurant itself 
was popular with tourists traveling west, but they always seemed 
disappointed that there was no gift shop. So after five years, 
the Delgados built on an addition for Mexican gifts ... 
clothing, blankets, pottery and artifacts." 

"You mentioned that there were Indian gifts as well," Skinner 
continued. 

"I was coming to that," Reyes answered. "Members of the Navajo 
reservation's tribal council approached the Delgados to see if 
they would be interested in selling some of the jewelry, 
clothing and other gift items that the tribe could produce. The 
Delgados figured they'd give it a try, and so they've been 
selling Navajo gift items ever since. Lucia and her family have 
carried on the tradition and it remains a very popular place 
where you can get an authentic Mexican meal and pick up some 
wonderful bargains. We should be coming up on it very soon now." 

Skinner settled back in his seat but instead of watching the 
road now, he continued to watch Reyes. My God, she really is a 
beautiful woman, he thought to himself. As he watched her, with 
the wind whipping stray stands of hair out from under her hat, 
he began to feel the stirrings of a powerful attraction for her. 
Steady there, he thought to himself. This is an agent ... a co-
worker ... and she's also a hell of a lot younger than you. 

Suddenly, he saw Reyes eyes widen and a happy smile cross her 
face, "Look just ahead," she cried, gesturing with one hand. 
"The reservation's on the left of the highway, Lucia's is on the 
right." 

Skinner looked ahead and saw what she was talking about. To the 
left hand side of the road was what appeared to be a huge mobile 
home park and several large, whitewashed buildings. To the right 
were two large wooden frame structures side-by-side with a large 
sign that read, "Lucia's Restaurant and Trading Post." 

Reyes easily maneuvered the car off the road and into an 
available parking space. As she removed her sunglasses and 
reached for her straw bag, Skinner got out of the car and walked 
to her side, opening the door for her. With the instincts of a 
gentleman, he held out his hand to help her out of the low-slung 
vehicle. She looked up at him, her eyes showing a quick flicker 
of surprise. Then without hesitation, she slipped her hand into 
his. 

As their hands met, it seemed that something passed between 
them, some kind of connection. At the warmth of her hand, 
Skinner felt the attraction that he had been musing about 
earlier become something stronger ... something that he could 
only describe as desire. Reyes seemed to feel it too, her eyes 
meeting his frankly and with knowledge and a sense of wonder 
shining in them. They stayed like that for a moment, just 
looking at each other, the tall man standing outside the car and 
the young woman sitting inside. Then, as if to clear his head, 
Skinner gave a gentle tug. 

Reyes responded to the tug and eased herself up out of her car 
seat gracefully, pausing to give Skinner a warm smile. "Well, we 
made it in one piece," she told him. 

Skinner released her hand and gave the compound a quick look-
around, noting the number of cars in the yard/parking area. 
"Looks pretty popular," he commented. "Quite a few cars here." 

"It is popular," Reyes replied as she slung her bag over her 
shoulder. "Let's go inside. I don't know about you, but I'm 
dying of thirst ... and I'm starved!" 

Skinner followed her into the first building. From the outside 
it was rather nondescript, a wooden frame building but inside he 
found it decorated in the style of a Mexican cantina. Chicano 
music was playing from a jukebox and the most heavenly aromas 
were wafting through the place. 

"Mo-ni-ca, you're back," Skinner heard the feminine voice behind 
him and turned to see a matronly looking woman, her dark hair 
streaked with gray approaching them, her arms outstretched. "Oh, 
it's so good to see you here again," she exclaimed as she took 
Reyes into a warm, motherly embrace. 

"You look great, Lucia," Reyes replied, hugging the woman right 
back with a beaming smile. They broke the embrace and stood at 
arms length, regarding each other "Honestly, you just never seem 
to age, Lucia." Reyes said wonderingly, "I wish I knew your 
secret." 

"Family ... prayer ... and lots of hard work," Lucia replied. 
"That's the only secret I know, querida." Lucia suddenly became 
aware of Skinner standing slightly off to the side, where he had 
withdrawn so he wouldn't interrupt what appeared to be a reunion 
between the two women. "I'm so sorry, I was so excited to see 
Monica. Are you here with her?" 

"Yes, I am," Skinner replied. 

"Lucia, this is Assistant Director Walter Skinner," Reyes 
introduced. "He works for the FBI in Washington. Walter, this is 
Lucia Valesquez, the owner and proprietor of this establishment. 

Skinner automatically held out his hand, "It's a pleasure to 
meet you, Mrs. Valesquez." 

Lucia clasped his hand effusively in both of her own, "Oh, you 
call me Lucia," she said warmly. "If you are here with Monica, 
you should not stand on ceremony with me." She turned back to 
Reyes, beaming happily, "Oh, I like your man, Monica. He is a 
fine one." 

Skinner felt himself blush as he realized what Lucia was 
thinking ... that he was here as Reyes "man." He looked down for 
a moment, then looked back up and caught her eye. Reyes didn't 
appear embarrassed in the least, however as she replied, "It's 
not what you're thinking, Lucia. Walter and I worked on a case 
recently and we just happened to be here at the same time." 

"Agent Reyes was kind enough to offer to bring me out here," 
Skinner added. "She was very enthusiastic about the shopping and 
the Mexican food. It's one of my favorites and I must say it 
smells wonderful!" 

If Lucia was embarrassed at all she didn't show it, but 
continued to beam happily at both of them. "If you like Mexican 
and Navajo souvenirs, you won't find better shopping than here," 
she told him. "And I won't lie ... you won't get any better 
Mexican food than you get here, isn't that right Monica?" 

"Absolutely, Lucia!" Reyes replied. 

"I'll tell you what, why don't you go over and check out what we 
have in the store while I get your lunch ready," Lucia 
suggested. "I'll put together a Mexican feast that you will 
always remember! I'll have Enrique come and get you when it's 
ready, okay?" 

"That sounds great, Lucia," Reyes answered. "Come on Walter, 
let's go check out the shop. I can't wait to see the new things 
she's got in there!" 

Skinner followed Reyes through the courtyard area that separated 
the two buildings and into the large shop. Almost immediately, 
an older, somewhat stout dark-haired man came over to them with 
a pleasant smile, "Hey there, Monica. Good to see you again!" 

Reyes smiled and quickly hugged the man, "Hey, Alberto it's good 
to see you too," she replied, stepping back. "Walter, this is 
Alberto Valesquez, Lucia's husband. Alberto, this is Walter 
Skinner, a friend of mine." 

Valesquez held out his hand, "Welcome to our place, Mr. 
Skinner," he spoke the greeting with warmth and enthusiasm. 

Skinner shook the offered hand, noting the roughness of the 
skin, which had been hardened by years of work, "Thank you, Mr. 
Valesquez," he replied. "Your shop looks fascinating." 

"Well, I don't know about fascinating but I'm sure you will find 
something that will catch your eye," Valesquez replied as he 
released Skinner's hand. "Monica, does Lucia know you're here?" 

"We stopped in the restaurant first," Reyes answered. "She told 
us to come in and shop around while she got lunch ready. But 
Alberto, I'm dying of thirst right now and I would kill for a 
Coke!" 

"Let me take care of that right away," Valesquez turned and went 
back behind the counter, where he reached into a large cooler 
and pulled out a can of Coke. He came back around and handed the 
can to Reyes. "There you are ... ice cold!" 

Reyes popped the top off the can and raised it to her lips, 
taking a long swallow. "Thanks, Alberto, that hits the spot," 
she said with real gratitude. 

"Listen, take a look around, take your time and anything that 
you select give to me and I'll hold it for you until after 
lunch," Valesquez told them. "I have to look after some of the 
other customers, but I'll talk to you before you leave, Monica. 
Again, good to meet you, Mr. Skinner." 

Skinner nodded as Valesquez turned to look after the other 
guests. He watched Reyes take another pull at the Coke can and 
then she turned to him and held out the can, "Would you care for 
some, Walter?" she asked. 

Skinner's mouth was very dry and the thought of that ice-cold 
liquid was irresistible. Unthinkingly, he accepted the can and 
raised it to his lips, taking a long swallow. As he did so, he 
was suddenly powerfully aware that his lips were resting on the 
same place as Monica Reyes' had done a moment before. It seemed 
as if in addition to the sweetness of the drink, he could 
actually taste a little of her essence, making this simple act 
of sharing a can of soda an amazingly intimate experience. 

As he lowered the can and held it back out to her, his eyes met 
hers and again he thought he saw a flicker of knowledge there, 
as if she had been reading his thoughts. As she took the can 
from his hand, her fingers lightly brushed his and once again he 
felt that spark, that sense of desire, shoot through him. He 
released the can into her hand and managed to say, "Thank you, 
Monica. That was just what I needed." 

Reyes eyes never left his as she raised the can to her mouth, 
placing her lips where his had been. She drank deeply, then 
lowered the can and spoke softly, "Me too, Walter." 

They stood for a moment, just looking at each other, then Reyes 
broke the spell. "So, what do you say we take a look around and 
see if there's anything that catches your eye?" 

The next half hour went by very quickly. The number of things he 
saw in the shop fascinated Skinner: Mexican pottery, serapes, 
blankets and art objects. Straw bags and hats. And then there 
were the Indian items. Of course there was the requisite bead 
and feather work. But there was also some wonderful pottery, 
beautiful leather wallets and boots, as well as leather belts 
with gold, silver and turquoise buckles. And the jewelry ... so 
much for men and women ... finely crafted of gold, copper and 
silver, some with turquoise and onyx in the design, others 
relying solely on the beauty of the metal and the craftwork. A 
wide brown leather belt ornamented with a gold and turquoise 
buckle and a gold bracelet/watchband with exquisite copper and 
turquoise ornamentation especially captured Skinner's eye. 

Noticing that Skinner was lingering, Alberto wandered over "Is 
there anything you would like to take a closer look at?" 

"Yes, the belt and that watchband there," Skinner replied, 
pointing to both. Alberto reached into the jewelry case and 
pulled out both items, laying them down on the counter. "These 
are some of our finest pieces," he commented. "Everything is 
handcrafted, so no two items are exactly alike." 

Skinner held up the belt first, giving it a thorough 
examination. As he did so, he felt Reyes come up beside him. "It 
looks like you've found something you like," she said. 

"Yes, I really think I'm going to buy this belt," Skinner 
replied, showing it to her. "It's an attractive piece and the 
price is very reasonable." 

"The prices here are always reasonable," Reyes responded as she 
closely surveyed the belt. "I like this, Walter. It would look 
great with your jeans or with other casual pants." 

Skinner handed the belt to Alberto, "I will take this, Mr. 
Valesquez." 

In the meantime, Reyes had picked up the watchband and was 
looking it over carefully. "This is absolutely beautiful," she 
remarked. 

"I haven't made up my mind about the watchband, yet." Skinner 
told her. "I'm not really sure that it's 'me,' if you know what 
I mean." 

Reyes opened her mouth to start to say something when Alberto 
interrupted her "Monica, there's Enrique waving to you. I think 
Lucia is ready for both of you." 

Reyes handed the watchband to Alberto, "Alberto, can you put 
that aside until after lunch. And hold on to the stuff we've 
already picked out ... we'll come back and pay for it 
afterwards." 

"Sure Monica," he told her as he took the watchband and put it 
in a corner of the jewelry case. "You'd better get going now. 
Hope you both have an appetite." 

"Oh, we do!" Reyes replied, impulsively grabbing Skinner's hand. 
"Come on Walter, let's go get lunch." 

Moments later, Skinner and Reyes were seated at a small table in 
the corner of the restaurant. When they took their places, a 
basket of chips and a large bowl of homemade salsa was already 
placed on the table waiting for them, along with a huge, frosty 
pitcher of light colored beer and two mugs. "It's Coors beer," 
Reyes explained. "You can get it in Washington, too. It goes 
wonderfully with Mexican food." 

Moments later, Lucia and her son, Enrique appeared bearing two 
trays loaded down with dishes. "Hey, you see I kept my word," 
Lucia told them as she unloaded plates from the trays. "I've 
brought you some of everything so you can try." 

"Wait a minute," Skinner began to protest, "This is way too much 
for the two of us." 

"Speak for yourself, Walter," Reyes teased "Besides, Lucia is 
just following Mexican custom ... they eat their main meal in 
the afternoon ... it's called comida ... and then just have a 
light supper in the evening. It's actually healthier for you." 

"That's right, Monica," Lucia beamed as she set the last plate 
down on the table. "You eat hearty now, Mr. Skinner. And you eat 
light tonight ... you sleep better that way. Now enjoy ... and 
call me if you need anything else." 

Skinner surveyed the array of dishes in front of him, giving off 
aromas that made his mouth water. There were the turnovers 
called empanadas, filled with beef. Chicken and cheese 
enchiladas. Crunchy beef tacos. Sizzling steak fajitas with 
assorted condiments. Pork tamales smothered in a spicy chili 
sauce. Refried beans and Mexican rice. Two salads, one of 
garbanzo beans and another made with oranges and onions. As 
Lucia had promised, truly a Mexican feast! 

He noticed that Reyes was already digging in and had piled her 
plate high with an assortment of delicacies. So he decided to 
follow her lead and quickly did the same. It had been a long 
time since breakfast and there was no question that he was 
feeling the pangs of hunger. 

Between the two of them, after 30 minutes Skinner and Reyes had 
managed to devour most of what Lucia had placed before them. 
Skinner was surprised at Reyes capacity as she took seconds (and 
sometimes thirds) of everything on the table. "I don't get it," 
he marveled as she polished off the last of her salad and drank 
off the last of her beer. "You are so slim ... where do you put 
it all?" 

Reyes laughed and again he found himself entranced at the sound 
of her laughter. "I think I have a super-fast metabolism," she 
replied. "Plus I keep pretty active. I run ... I work out ... 
even on vacation I move around a lot. So I burn off a lot of 
calories. Besides, you're no slouch either," she teased. "You 
ate just as much as I did ... and you did last night too. And 
from what I can see, your body doesn't show any excess 
poundage." 

Skinner permitted himself to feel a touch of pride at her words. 
At his age, it was great to be complimented on his body, and he 
worked hard at staying fit. "Same thing as you, I guess," he 
answered. "Workouts at the gym, running, and when I start to put 
on any weight I cut back." 

Enrique reappeared and began to clear away the dishes on the 
table. "Where's Lucia?" Reyes asked. 

"She'll be out in a minute with some coffee and dessert," 
Enrique replied. 

"The coffee sounds great, but I don't think I can manage 
dessert," Skinner groaned. 

"Oh, I think you can manage this," Lucia answered as she came up 
with yet another tray. On it were coffee cups, a small 
coffeepot, plates, spoons and a large, golden-crusted ball on a 
plate with a small bowl of golden sauce next to it. 

Reyes clapped her hands at the sight like a little girl, "Lucia, 
you remembered!" 

"Now how could I forget your favorite dessert," Lucia chided as 
she set everything down on the table. "I knew that you would be 
wanting this." 

"What is it?" Skinner asked as Lucia set a plate and a spoon in 
front of him. 

"It's Mexican fried ice cream," Reyes exclaimed with delight as 
Lucia placed the plate with the ball in front of her. "Oh Lucia, 
thank you so much!" 

Reyes began to cut into the golden ball as Lucia left. "How can 
you fry ice cream?" Skinner asked. 

"You roll it in a mixture of cornflake crumbs, flour and sugar, 
then chill it until it gets very hard," Reyes explained as she 
divided the ball in two, putting half on his plate and half on 
hers. "Then you deep-fry it for one minute. You serve it hot 
with hot caramel sauce. It's absolutely fantastic!" 

She ladled caramel sauce on his portion and passed the plate 
over to him. He took a spoonful and found that she was right, it 
was fantastic! The sensation of hot and cold at once, and the 
sweet flavors of the ice cream and caramel were a perfect finish 
to the hot, spicy meal. 

"Good, huh?" she prompted. 

"Good," he replied. 

Reyes beamed as she devoured her portion. He thought how young 
she looked as she sat there, spooning ice cream into her mouth. 
Young and beautiful and vibrant and alive. He wasn't even aware 
that he was smiling fondly as he watched her. 

As Reyes finished her last spoonful, she caught him watching 
her, "What?" she asked, "What is it?" 

"I was just thinking," Skinner said quietly. "I was thinking of 
how lovely you look." 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing ... she was actually 
blushing. He saw her bite her lip as she laid her spoon down and 
pushed her plate aside. When she spoke, her voice was pitched 
low, "I ... thank you, Walter. It's been a long time since 
someone said that to me." 

"I mean it, Monica," he continued. "You are a very lovely young 
woman." 

Reyes looked searchingly into his eyes as if she were seeking 
something that she evidently found, because a small, knowing 
smile appeared on her face. "I'm not that young, Walter," she 
told him. "At least, I'm old enough to know what I want." 

Skinner suddenly felt that there was another meaning behind her 
words, a message she was trying to convey. "And just what is it 
you want, Monica," he asked softly 

Reyes continued to watch him, that knowing smile still on her 
face and a sudden gleam in her eyes. She took a deep breath as 
if she was about to say something, then seemed to change her 
mind. "I think I'd rather answer that later, Walter," she 
replied. "Instead, I'd like to ask you a question." 

"What is your question, Monica?" Skinner asked, his curiosity 
piqued. 

"It's about that watchband in the shop," Reyes explained. "You 
really seemed to like it. Yet you are hesitating about buying 
it. Why?" 

"I told you ... I'm not sure it's really 'me'," Skinner replied. 
"It seems a bit flashy ... a bit elaborate for someone like me." 

"I disagree," Reyes replied. "That watchband isn't flashy at 
all. It's beautiful ... a piece of art crafted out of precious 
metals and stone ... something that will last and hold its value 
for years. The craftwork has dignity, grace and elegance. The 
gold has permanence ... it's timeless and will never change. The 
copper gives it warmth and the turquoise gives it passion." 

"So you are saying that the watchband symbolizes permanence, 
grace, elegance, dignity, warmth and passion," Skinner stated 
with a slight laugh. "All of which means that I'm right ... it 
isn't me." 

"No Walter, all of which means you're wrong," Reyes continued, 
her voice low and almost seductive. "That watchband IS you. It's 
everything that I think of when I think of you. It's as if some 
Navajo craftsman had imagined in his mind every quality that you 
have and translated it into metal and turquoise." 

Skinner felt himself blushing at her words. The look in her eyes 
and the tone of her voice made it clear to him that she was 
sincere, that this was how she saw him. His eyes locked with 
hers and the message he read there was unmistakable; an 
invitation to proceed further. Subtle perhaps, but an invitation 
nonetheless. One that surprised, excited and, to some extent, 
frightened him all at the same time. He tried to find the words 
to respond, but they simply wouldn't come. 

Again, he saw that flicker of understanding in her eyes that 
made him feel that she was reading his thoughts. "Maybe I'm 
being a bit too forward," she said quietly. "But as you know by 
now, I'm used to saying what I feel. And that is what I feel 
about you." 

Reyes waved down Lucia, who was talking to another of her 
guests, but quickly excused herself and came back to the table. 
"So you have finished," she commented. "It was good, eh?" 

"Lucia, it was the best Mexican meal I've had since ... well ... 
since the last time I was here!" Reyes exclaimed. 

"And you, Mr. Skinner, did you enjoy it," Lucia turned to him 
with a huge smile on her face. 

Skinner was able to smile back and answer with complete 
sincerity, "Mrs. Valesquez, it was one of the best meals I've 
ever had ... certainly the best Mexican food I've ever had." 

"You have good taste, Mr. Skinner." Lucia laughed. "If you come 
back here again, I'll make sure you get just as good the next 
time ... maybe even better!" 

"I don't see how it can get much better," Skinner replied with a 
chuckle as he began to reach for his wallet, "How much do I owe 
..." 

"You can pay for it out in the store," Lucia explained. "Alberto 
told me he is holding something for you in the gift shop ... 
we'll add the lunch to your bill out there, no problem." 

"Sounds great," Skinner told her as he began to stand up, 
noticing that Reyes did so as well. "It's another 90 minute 
drive back into Phoenix, so I suppose we had better finish our 
shopping and head on back." He extended his hand to Lucia, who 
once again took it warmly in both her own, "It's been a pleasure 
meeting you, Mrs. Valesquez." 

"You too, Mr. Skinner," she replied. "Please come again ... and 
bring Monica with you," she added, glancing fondly at Reyes. 

Reyes smiled fondly back and threw her arms around the older 
woman, "You know that I always come back," she told Lucia as she 
hugged her tightly. "I'll be sure to tell Mom that I saw you." 

"Please, and give her and your papa my love," Lucia exclaimed, 
before releasing Reyes from her embrace. "Travel safely, both of 
you. Vaya con Dios!" 

Skinner and Reyes went back into the gift shop and directly to 
the counter where Alberto was holding their selections. Reyes 
had selected a beautifully painted pottery bowl, a copper 
bracelet set with turquoise and onyx and a delicately painted 
fan. Her purchases paid for, she stepped aside to let Skinner 
take his turn. 

"You had the belt, right?" Alberto asked, has he pulled it from 
behind the counter. 

"That's right," Skinner replied. He paused for a moment, then 
asked "Could I see that watchband again, please?" 

Reyes stepped a little closer as Alberto produced the watchband 
and laid it in Skinner's hand. Skinner regarded it closely, 
turning it over and examining every inch. Reyes inched even 
closer, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin, 
even though they weren't touching. He turned to her and held out 
the watchband, "Did you want to take a closer look at it?" 

Reyes accepted the watchband and, like Skinner, examined it 
closely before looking back up at him, "You know, I think the 
best thing would be for you to try it on," she commented. "You 
can see if you like the look and the feel of it." 

"You may be right," Skinner replied, beginning to stretch his 
hand out to take it from her, but Reyes held it back and shook 
her head slightly with a mischievous smile. Skinner got the 
message and held out his arm. Reyes unfastened the clasp and 
brought the band up around his wrist, then slowly re-fastened 
the clasp. Skinner watched as her fingers lightly, almost 
caressingly traced over the intricate carvings in the watchband, 
then slowly slid over his wrist and down his hand, sending a 
slight shiver through him. He regarded the watchband for a 
moment or two, then locked eyes with her once again, smiling as 
he spoke, "It looks pretty damned good." 

Reyes smiled back at him, "It certainly does," she replied. 
"It's like I said Walter ... that watchband was made for you." 

Skinner turned back to Alberto, still standing behind the 
counter. "Please add this to my bill, Mr. Valesquez," he stated. 
"And just put the box in the bag with everything else ... I'm 
going to wear it now." 

"No ... no ..." 

Skinner heard those choked words from Dana Scully as she 
struggled with John Doggett, who was trying to keep her from 
seeing what the rest of them had seen. 

"No ... Agent Scully ... you don't want to see," he pleaded with 
her as she broke from his grasp. 

They all watched helplessly as she knelt beside the huddled 
form, now mercifully covered from the shoulders down with a 
blanket. Her hand trembled as she reached out and touched 
Mulder's cold, bruised face. It was obvious that she refused to 
accept what was so evident as she scrambled to her feet, 
murmuring, "He needs help ... he needs help!" 

Skinner would never have believed that the tough as nails John 
Doggett could have spoken so gently as he did to her at that 
moment. "It's too late, Agent Scully," as he tried to reach out 
for her. 

But Scully evaded his grasp, crying, "No ... no it's not," as 
she turned and began to run blindly, back towards the house. 
Doggett looked as if he would follow but Skinner raised his hand 
in a signal to stop him. Doggett shouldn't have to bear this 
burden ... it was his to bear. And so he turned and followed 
Scully back through the woods, toward the compound. 

Skinner was just approaching the hill when he felt the ground 
begin to shake and saw a blinding light. He heard screams and 
yells and pushed himself to run faster as he headed up the hill. 
He had just hit the top when the light seemed to disappear. And 
then he heard just one scream ... Scully's scream. 

He hurtled himself down the hill and towards the main bunkhouse 
of the compound, inwardly pleading, "No, please God let her be 
all right!" He would never have believed that he could move so 
fast. As his long legs closed the distance, carrying him across 
the yard he heard Scully cry out "This is not happening!" 

Then he was at the door of the bunkhouse and shot through it, 
storming down the hall into the anteroom off the sleep area. He 
crossed the threshold in time to see Scully drop to her knees, 
shoulders heaving. She raised her head to the ceiling and 
screamed the single word, "Nooooo!" before she collapsed into 
heartrending sobs. 

Skinner was beside her in an instant, his arms around her, 
raising her off the floor. For a moment, she accepted his 
embrace. Then she pulled away from him and looked up into his 
face, anger and accusation in her eyes. "You were going to look 
out for him," she cried, lashing out in her grief and despair. 
"You promised me. You let me down! You let him down!" 

"Agent Scully ..." he tried to interrupt her but she would not 
be stopped. 

"He's dead! Mulder is dead because you couldn't protect him," 
she screamed, her words cutting him like a knife. "It's your 
fault! Mulder is dead and it's all your fault!" 

Skinner's chest heaved as he fought back his own emotions, the 
sudden tears coming to his own eyes. His hands gripped Scully's 
shoulders tightly as he fought for control. "Dana, please ..." 
he pleaded in a voice that was suddenly shaky. 

Scully shook her head and then, all of the anger seemed to leave 
her to be replaced with overwhelming grief. She collapsed into 
his arms then, her body shaking with the sobs she could no 
longer hold back. She buried her face in his chest, clinging to 
him as if he was the only secure thing left in her life. 

Skinner held her closely, attempting to comfort her as she wept, 
but at the same time her words continued to echo in his brain 
over and over again ... It's your fault ... Mulder is dead and 
it's your fault! ... Mulder is dead. . . . . . . . . . 

"Walter ... Walter, are you okay?" 

Skinner came awake to the feel of sunshine and a warm breeze on 
his face and the sense of motion that comes when one is in a 
vehicle. He shook his head to clear it and realized that he was 
in a car ... traveling back towards Phoenix ... and that Monica 
Reyes was with him. 

He turned to the side to see Reyes looking at him worriedly. 
"Are you okay, Walter?" she asked again, her concern evident. 

Skinner managed a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just fell 
asleep, I guess," he told her. "Guess I'm getting old ... I was 
up early this morning and then that huge lunch. The movement of 
the car just put me right out." 

"I'm not worried about you taking a nap," Reyes replied. "But 
you seemed to be dreaming ... and it didn't look like a pleasant 
dream at all." 

"It was nothing, Monica," he tried to reassure her. "Just a 
dream, nothing to worry about." 

Reyes still looked doubtful, but when she realized that he 
didn't want to talk about it any further, she decided not to 
press it. "Why don't I turn on the radio?" she enquired. 

"Good idea," Skinner agreed. 

Reyes pushed a button and the sounds of The Eagles "Life in the 
Fast Lane" wafted through the car. "This okay with you?" she 
asked. 

"Sounds great," Skinner replied. As Reyes returned her attention 
to the road, Skinner settled back in his seat, shut his eyes and 
tried to forget the dream and lose himself in the music and the 
motion. 

It was just past 4 p.m. when Reyes brought the car to a halt in 
front of Skinner's Casita suite. "Well, we're back," she said 
with a smile. 

Skinner was somewhat reluctant to get out of the car and bring 
the day to an end. "It's still pretty early," he commented. "Do 
you have any special plans for the evening?" 

"Actually, I don't have any plans at all," Reyes replied. "What 
I was thinking of doing right now was going back to my room, 
changing into my swimsuit and having a nice long swim. After all 
this time in the car, the thought of the Canyon pool is just to 
tempting to resist." 

"A swim does sound pretty good," Skinner mused. 

"Well, why don't you join me, Walter?" Reyes asked impulsively. 
"That is ... if you don't have any other plans ..." 

"No, I don't have any plans at all," Skinner answered. "You sure 
you don't mind the company?" 

"I wouldn't have asked if I'd minded," Reyes chided. "I've 
really enjoyed our time together today, Walter. And I've gotten 
the feeling you've enjoyed it too." 

"I have, Monica," Skinner replied in a quiet voice. "I've 
enjoyed it very much." 

"Well then, we might as well continue," Reyes said in a 
practical tone of voice. "So why don't you meet me down at the 
Canyon Pool in about a half-hour? Usually around this time of 
day, it's not very crowded so we'll have the pool all to 
ourselves." 

"You're on!" Skinner replied as he opened the door and climbed 
out of the car. "The Canyon Pool in 30 minutes." 

Reyes smiled warmly at him, "I'll be looking forward to it," she 
said, and he thought he detected a special meaning behind her 
words. Then, with a wave, she drove off toward the main 
building, as he watched, waving his own hand in response. 

Thirty minutes later, Skinner had made his way to the Canyon 
Pool, one of nine pools at the Phoenician. It was an absolutely 
beautiful pool ... in truth it looked more like a lake than a 
pool, with plenty of lovely natural landscaping and across the 
water, a small "island" with a waterfall. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he heard a by-now familiar voice say and 
he turned to see Monica Reyes walking up behind him. She had a 
canvas bag in which he could see two towels stuffed and she wore 
one of the hotel's terrycloth robes and a pair of sandals on her 
feet, her hair loose and tumbling. 

"Yes, it is beautiful," Skinner replied. "I was just thinking 
that it looks more like a lake than a swimming pool." 

"Well, in reality that's what it is ... a man-made lake," Reyes 
replied as she set her bag down on one of the lounge chairs and 
untied the sash of her robe. She quickly slipped off the white 
terrycloth and stood before him in a one-piece emerald green 
maillot suit that seemed to emphasize the beauty of the body 
that it covered. The suit's neckline was cut low enough to 
reveal that her beautiful and firm breasts were absolutely real. 
It clung enough to show off her slender waist and lovely rounded 
hips, and was cut high enough in the leg to reveal them in all 
of their long shapeliness. Skinner couldn't help but stare and 
once again marvel at just how beautiful this woman was. 

Reyes reached into her bag and pulled out a bathing cap. As she 
began to stuff her dark hair into it, she gestured to Skinner, 
"Do you always go swimming fully dressed, Walter?" 

As she wrestled with the bathing cap, Skinner removed his shorts 
and shirt, to reveal a pair of dark blue swimming trunks. As 
Reyes gave a last tug to the bathing cap, she looked over at him 
and he saw the admiration in her eyes, a reward for all of his 
work at keeping himself in shape. He might not be as young as 
some of the studs hanging around the pool, but he had nothing to 
be ashamed of either in his broad shoulders, deep, defined 
chest, hard flat belly and narrow hips. "Wow, I was right," she 
said in wonder. "You haven't got an ounce of fat on you. Those 
swimming trunks become you!" 

They both stood regarding each other for a moment, each eying 
the other appreciatively. Then Reyes broke the spell, "Okay, 
let's get that swim," she called out as she turned and ran 
toward the water. "Last one in is a rotten egg!" 

Skinner followed along behind Reyes and watched as she neatly 
executed a dive into the water. At the edge of the pool, he gave 
a leap and propelled himself up and into the air, feeling a 
sense of freedom and euphoria as first his head and shoulders 
and then the rest of his body sliced into the cool, refreshing 
liquid. For a few seconds, he allowed himself to simply enjoy 
the feeling of weightlessness that comes immediately after a 
dive into deep water. Then he positioned his body and stroked 
upward towards the sunlight he could see beating upon the 
crystal clear water. 

Two strokes ... three ... and his head broke through the surface 
and was warmed by the sunlight. He looked about and saw that 
Reyes had also come up and was treading water, smiling at him 
with pure delight and enjoyment, a smile that he matched with 
his own. She called out to him, "Race you to the waterfall!" 

"You're on!" Skinner called back. "We'll start on the count of 
three. One ..." 

"Two!" Reyes shot back. 

Then "Three!" in unison and they were off, splashing furiously 
as they displaced water with arms and legs and bodies, moving 
towards their goal. Skinner was a powerful swimmer, his strong 
arms and legs propelling him forward, but while Reyes' strokes 
weren't as powerful they were faster and moved her lighter body 
through the water at a comparable speed. He was surprised to 
find that he was really having to work to stay just slightly 
ahead of her. And while the gentlemanly thing to do would be to 
let her win, when it came to a race his manners quickly deserted 
him, to be replaced by a fiercely competitive spirit and 
overwhelming will to win. 

He pushed himself harder, summoning up his strength and stroking 
with even more power, finally pulling a good two lengths ahead 
of Reyes, a distance that she simply could not overcome. He 
pulled up and halted at the small man-made island just under the 
waterfall and watched as she came up alongside him, his chest 
heaving with his exertions. 

Reyes too was somewhat out of breath as she allowed herself to 
float limply on the surface of the water, her body's natural 
buoyancy keeping her afloat. "Wow!" she breathed. "Good race!" 

Skinner continued to tread water as his breathing began to 
gradually slow down. "Yeah!" he exclaimed. "You're one hell of a 
good swimmer, Monica." 

Reyes smiled ruefully, "Not good enough since you were able to 
beat me!" 

Skinner began to feel just slightly guilty that he had pushed so 
hard to win. Following her lead, he laid back in the water and 
allowed his body to go limp, floating on his back and allowing 
the water to carry him over to where she was floating. "Maybe I 
should have let you win," he enquired as he came closer. 

"Not on your life, Walter," Reyes replied, observing him as he 
came closer. "I like to win, but if I can't win on my own, it's 
not worth it. You beat me fair and square." 

"Still, I feel a little guilty," Skinner confessed, his arms 
floating limply at his side. "Especially since you really ARE a 
good swimmer ... I really had to work at it to beat you." 

Reyes pulled her legs down in the water and began to tread water 
as Skinner came even closer to her ... close enough to touch 
her. He thought he detected a mischievous light in her eyes as 
she came up alongside him. "Really?" she questioned. "You really 
had to work at it, huh?" 

"I sure did," Skinner replied, feeling even more relaxed, 
enjoying the sense of weightlessness as he floated beside her. 

"And you feel guilty about beating me," Reyes enquired, her eyes 
dancing and a wicked little smile beginning to grow on her lips. 

"Yeah, I really do," Skinner responded. 

"Maybe I can help you feel better about that," Reyes giggled. 
Then in one quick motion, she dove underwater and before Skinner 
knew what was happening, he felt himself first being pushed up 
and then dragged down into the water, the cool liquid engulfing 
him completely. 

Taken so completely by surprise, it took him a moment to 
recover, right himself and come back to the surface. By the time 
he did, Reyes was already several yards away, swimming back 
toward the concrete "shore." She stopped for a moment and 
turned, laughing at him, "Let's see if you can catch me now!" 

With a sound that was half a laugh and half a roar, Skinner shot 
through the water after her, following the sounds of her 
laughter as he swam. 

Perhaps it was because she was already tired from the earlier 
swim, perhaps it was because she was laughing so hard she 
couldn't build up her speed, but in any event it didn't take 
Skinner long to catch up with Reyes. As he came closer, he 
reached out and grabbed her by the ankle, pulling her in closer 
to him. They were in shallow water now, and Skinner was able to 
stand on the bottom with the water coming up just over his 
waistline as he pulled her towards him. At first she resisted, 
struggling futilely against his pull. Then suddenly, the 
resistance went out of her and she allowed herself to be dragged 
in. Skinner gave one last mighty tug, and then the next thing he 
knew she was practically on top of him, her legs wrapped around 
his waist in the water and her hands resting on his shoulders. 

Skinner looked at that beautiful face with the smiling lips and 
dancing eyes just inches away from his own and suddenly was 
overcome with the longing to pull her even closer and kiss the 
breath right out of her. He tried desperately to push that 
longing aside, but as if she knew what he was thinking, Reyes 
moved her hands up from his shoulders and locked them behind his 
neck, as if she were signaling to him that she knew what he 
wanted, and that she wanted it, too. 

Overcome by this compulsion, Skinner pulled her closer and bent 
his head down towards hers, allowing his lips to lightly brush 
against hers. At just this light touch, a wave of desire swept 
over him, so intense that it took all of his will power to pull 
back from Reyes, to try to gauge her reaction before he went any 
further. 

Reyes was looking up at him, her arms still locked around his 
neck. Her lips were slightly parted and her smile was no longer 
mischievous, but inviting. Wordlessly, she tilted her head back 
just a little more, parted her lips still further and pulled his 
head down towards hers. 

That was all the invitation Skinner needed. Gone was any thought 
that this woman was a fellow agent and considerably younger than 
he was. His mouth pressed down on hers forcefully, his own lips 
parted. His arms crushed her to him as he kissed her hungrily, 
passionately, as if he would devour her alive. As Skinner held 
her closely, wrapped securely in his arms, he could feel Reyes 
responding to him, her own tongue, warm and sweet, exploring his 
mouth as eagerly as he explored hers. Her arms tightened around 
his neck in a grip almost as ruthless as his own. Pressed so 
close together, he could feel her heart racing and her breathing 
become rapid, just as she could feel that his desire for her was 
rapidly growing. 

Finally, they broke the kiss, both gasping for air. But although 
the kiss was broken, they continued to hold each other there in 
the water, reluctant to break contact with each other. Reyes was 
no longer smiling, but her eyes held a look of mingled awe and 
wonder as she regarded Skinner, "Wow," she whispered. "You amaze 
me, Walter." 

Skinner began to pull away from Reyes, but she continued to 
cling to him. "Monica ...please ..." 

"Please what?" she asked, her voice still breathless from their 
kiss. 

"If you don't let go ... if we keep this up ..." Skinner began, 
his voice husky with desire and emotion. "Monica, I'm not sure 
where this will lead." 

Reyes pulled herself even closer, so that when she spoke Skinner 
could feel her breath warm against his skin, "I know exactly 
where it's going to lead," she whispered. "Your bedroom." 

At her words, he used all of his strength to pull her back so 
they were at arms length, so he could truly see her face. 
"Monica, are you sure?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching 
hers. 

Reyes smiled again, this time tenderly and her eyes showed no 
doubt, only a desire that seemed to match his own. "Oh yes 
Walter, I'm sure," she replied, again moving so close to him 
that she could feel his excitement and desire. "And from what 
I'm sensing here, I think you are too. Come on, let's go back to 
your suite." 

Skinner slipped the key card into the door and listened for the 
click, then opened it and held the door open for Reyes to pass 
in front of him. She moved past him, lightly brushing against 
him as she passed, took a few steps inside and paused to look 
around at the opulent surroundings: the beautifully furnished 
living room complete with a fireplace, large screen television, 
fully equipped wet bar, and Bose stereo system; and the spacious 
dining area. "This is very nice," she commented. "Absolutely 
beautiful." 

Skinner closed the door and stepped into the room, consciously 
keeping a distance between himself and Reyes. "Yes, it is," he 
agreed. "It also has a beautiful view of the lake and then the 
mountains off in the distance. You can see them from the main 
window here and from the bedroom window." 

"Really," Reyes commented as crossed further into the room and 
set her bag down on one of the overstuffed chairs in the living 
room. "I'll have to make a point of checking the view out ... 
from the bedroom, I mean." 

The swim back to the patio and then the walk back to the suite 
had provided a somewhat calming effect on Skinner. When they had 
been entwined in their kiss in the pool, he had not been able to 
think of a thing except how much he wanted this woman. If they 
had not been out in public, he would have taken her there and 
then. But the walk back had given him time to reflect, to think 
about what it was they were about to do. "Monica, before we go 
in there ... I mean before we do anything ..." 

Reyes turned, a questioning look on her face, "Yes, Walter?" 

Strange how difficult it was to get the next words out, Skinner 
thought to himself. "Monica, are you sure you want to do this?" 

He was appalled to see an expression of hurt cross Reyes' face. 
Her eyes fell to the floor and when she spoke it was in a 
surprisingly small voice, "Are you trying to tell me that ... 
you don't want to? You ... don't ... want me?" 

Skinner crossed the short distance between them quickly, cursing 
himself inwardly for his awkwardness. He placed his hands on her 
shoulders and turned her towards him, although she continued to 
keep her head down, "No Monica, that's not what I'm trying to 
tell you," he said gently. "I just need to know that you're sure 
about this. I'm no super stud, and I'm a hell of a lot older 
than you. I don't want you to feel that you have to ..." 

"Shshhhh!" Reyes lifted her head so her eyes met his and raised 
her hand to place a finger on his lips. "Remember at lunch I 
told you that I know what I want?" 

"Yes ...?" Skinner made the single word a question as his hands 
slipped from Reyes's shoulders to lightly circle her waist. 

"This is what I want," Reyes finished, moving her finger off his 
lips and lightly caressing his cheek with her hand. "I want you, 
Walter. Right here and right now. I'm as sure of that as I've 
been of anything else in my life." 

Skinner pulled her closer to him and his lips sought hers. As 
her mouth opened to his, all thoughts of anything but this place 
and this woman left his brain, replaced only by a rising desire. 
As before, he felt Reyes press herself even closer to him, her 
arms around his neck pulling him deeper into their kiss. When 
they broke for air, he had no more thoughts of anything except 
how much he wanted and needed this woman in his arms. And as he 
looked into her eyes, he saw his own desire reflected in their 
smoky depths. "Let's go into the bedroom," he whispered. 

Never letting go of each other, arms around each other's waists, 
they went into the luxurious bedroom, which was still bright 
with the last rays of the day's sunlight streaming in. They 
stopped at the foot of the bed and again reached for each other 
and began to kiss deeply, passionately, as if they would never 
stop. Skinner's hands became entwined in Reyes hair and then 
began to roam along her back and shoulders, all the while 
drinking in the warmth of her mouth. Then he allowed his lips to 
move down, kissing and biting the soft, warm skin of her throat 
and shoulders. All the while he could feel her hands roaming 
first along his back and shoulders, then proceeding down the his 
chest until they reached the lapels of his robe. With one quick 
gesture, she pulled on the robe, causing the loosely tied sash 
to come apart and with a second tug, she had pulled it off him 
and it had fallen to the floor. 

His hands were no less busy. Her robe was already open, so all 
it took was for him to slip his hands down over her shoulders to 
push it off her and onto the floor. He continued to kiss her 
deeply as his hands began to move to the shoulder straps of her 
swimsuit. Slowly, he moved the straps down her arms until they 
reached just below her elbows. He felt Reyes step back slightly 
then as she pulled her arms out of the straps and up over her 
head, allowing him the freedom to move the suit down the rest of 
her body. 

As her full breasts came into view, he began to lavish them with 
kisses, all the while moving her swimsuit down the rest of her 
body, marveling as each inch of her came into view ... the 
slender, tapered waist, the curvaceous hips and rounded butt. 
Once he had pulled it over her rear, it took one quick pull and 
the suit fell to the floor, making it easy for Reyes to step out 
of it. As she stepped back, he drank in the full sight of her, 
from the top of her dark hair to the bottom of her slender feet, 
and he couldn't help but regard her with awe, "My God, Monica," 
he breathed. "You are beautiful." 

Reyes smiled her thanks and again stepped closer to Skinner, 
reaching up to touch his face with one hand while her other hand 
rested lightly on his shoulder. Then her hands began to move 
downward, running along his shoulders to his muscled arms, then 
from there over his chest, before moving to the waistband of his 
swimming trunks. She gave a tug, pulling them downward and they 
dropped quickly to the floor. 

For just a moment, Skinner felt the slight awkwardness a man 
feels when he is naked before a younger woman. But the 
awkwardness vanished when he saw the admiration in Reyes' eyes, 
"Oh Walter," she breathed, "You are ... magnificent." 

Then there was no time for thinking as he and Reyes fell on the 
bed together, each focused on exploring the other's body, 
savoring the feel of skin upon skin. Every touch, every stroke, 
every caress that Skinner lavished upon Reyes she returned with 
equal abandon. As he tasted and devoured her body with his 
mouth, she eagerly did the same to him, showing as much 
enjoyment in his pleasure as she took in her own. 

And then when took her, with a passion that surprised him, he 
found that she met him with equal passion, her arms wrapped 
around him, pulling him ever closer to her. He could hear her 
moans and cries over the blood pounding in his head and as if 
through a haze, saw the joy and abandon on her face as she 
achieved her climax. This was enough to pull him over the edge 
and his release came with a force and intensity that left him 
breathless and exhausted. 

Then they were lying together side by side by side upon the bed, 
both gasping and completely spent. It was Reyes who recovered 
first, lifting her self upon on one elbow so that she could look 
into his face. "Walter, remember what you said earlier ... about 
not being a super stud?" 

Skinner looked up at her, feeling a sudden tightening in the pit 
of his stomach, "Yes?" 

Reyes smiled down upon him, a smile filled with joy, wonder and 
satisfaction, "Maybe you're not ... but you are a wonderful, 
wonderful lover." 

Her words warmed and touched him, and he reached up and drew her 
towards him, so that her hair fell and brushed his chest and her 
face was so close he could feel her breath, still coming in 
small, warm gasps. "And you Monica ... you are ... perfect," he 
whispered, and drew her face down until her lips met his. 

This kiss lacked the passion of the earlier kisses, but was 
infinitely sweeter and more tender ... a kiss shared by two 
people who had found joy and satisfaction in each other. Long 
and slow, soft and tender, they broke it slowly, reluctantly. 
Then Reyes sank back down onto the bed to lie cuddled in the 
crook of Skinner's arm, her head resting upon his chest. Holding 
her close to him, feeling her warmth, Skinner closed his eyes 
and sighed, feeling for the first time in what seemed like 
forever, a sense of peace. 

Skinner and Reyes lay together silently as the sun began to set 
and the room darkened, neither sleeping, just enjoying the 
moments that followed their lovemaking. Skinner enjoyed this 
quiet time, holding Reyes close to him, feeling the warm silk of 
her skin pressed against him. With her head resting on his 
chest, he could feel the smoothness of her cheek and the 
softness of her hair. With his free arm he reached over and 
began to stroke her hair. He felt her move within his arms as 
she sighed and murmured against his chest, "That's nice!" 

"You like that?" he asked as he continued to stroke her hair. 

"Um hum," she responded lazily, shifting her position slightly. 
As he stroked her hair, so she began to stroke his chest, her 
fingers brushing lightly along the firm muscles and playing with 
the fine hairs. Her caresses were gentle and soothing, causing 
him to relax still further. For a few minutes more they 
continued to lay silently, the only sound in the room their 
deep, quiet breathing. 

This time it was Skinner who broke the silence. "Monica, I have 
to ask you something." 

"Let me guess ... " she replied, her voice slightly muffled. 
"You want to know if I'm sorry we did this?" 

"Are you?" he asked quietly. 

Reyes turned and planted several light kisses upon his chest 
before she sat up and looked down at him. Her expression showed 
that she took his question seriously and was prepared to give 
him a serious answer. "No, Walter," she replied. "I wanted this 
... and I wanted you." 

Skinner gazed up at her in wonder, reaching up to brush a stray 
tendril of hair from her face, then resting his hand lightly 
against her cheek. "Why me, Monica," he queried. "You are a 
beautiful young woman who could have her pick of men. I'm not 
young, not terribly good looking ... why choose me?" 

Reyes moved her head so that her lips were against his hand. She 
kissed the palm tenderly before taking it in her own, her 
fingers twining through his. "Because you are the one I wanted," 
she answered calmly. "You were carrying something for me ... 
whether you realized it or not ...it's not something I can fully 
explain right now, but it's something that I needed and wanted. 
And I feel that in some way, I'm carrying something for you." 
She paused and regarded him solemnly. "What about you, Walter? 
Are you sorry?" 

Skinner pulled Reyes back down so that she was lying more or 
less on top of him, her face close to his. He lifted his head 
slightly off the pillow and kissed her gently. "No Monica," he 
whispered as his head fell back upon the pillow, "I'm not sorry 
at all!" 

Reyes face lit up with that slow, glowing smile he was coming to 
know so well and she hugged him tightly, her head resting on his 
shoulder and her cheek pressed against his. He hugged her back 
just as tightly, his arms wrapped around her. Then, he felt a 
strange vibration coming from Reyes' abdomen, accompanied by a 
small, growling sound. "Oops," he heard her say and felt her 
giggle softly. He felt a smile come to his own face as he 
realized what it was. "Are you hungry, Monica," he asked. 

Reyes lifted her head off his shoulder, her eyes dancing, "What 
can I say, I'm betrayed by own stomach," she laughed. "Yeah, I 
guess I am a bit. How about you?" 

When he stopped to think about it, Skinner realized that his own 
stomach ached emptily. "You know, I am," he remarked. "I can't 
believe it though, after that huge lunch we ate." 

"Well Walter, that lunch was almost six hours ago," Reyes 
commented. "And we have been rather active since then ... our 
swim ... and," she paused and smiled mischievously, "... our 
other activities." 

"That's true, Monica, I'd say we burned off our lunch," Skinner 
replied. "So, do you want to go to one of the restaurants 
downstairs ... or go out ... or we could order room service." 

"Why don't we go down to the Thirsty Camel Lounge," Reyes 
suggested. "They serve up great appetizers, soups, salads and 
sandwiches, besides making terrific drinks. And the music is 
always pretty good there." 

"That sounds good to me," Skinner answered. "But I think I'm 
going to need a shower before we go." 

"Well, so am I," Reyes replied. "And I do need to go back to my 
room and put some clothes on. I can't very well stroll down to 
the Thirsty Camel in my swimsuit and robe, can I?" 

"No, I don't suppose you can," Skinner replied as Reyes rolled 
off him and gracefully rose from the bed, giving him a full view 
of her beautiful and naked body. She picked her swimsuit up from 
the floor and stepped into it, pulling it quickly up to cover 
first the perfect butt, slim waist and finally her pert breasts 
as she pulled the shoulder straps into place. 

Skinner lifted himself off the bed and reached for the robe that 
Reyes had casually tossed aside, wrapping it around him and 
tying the sash. Reyes had also found her robe and had slipped it 
on and together the two walked back out into the living room 
area. Reyes picked up her oversize bag and swung it over her 
shoulder, then turned back to Skinner, "What do you say I meet 
you back here in about 45 minutes?" 

"That sounds good," Skinner replied. Reyes nodded and began to 
walk to the door and as he realized that she was leaving, he 
felt a momentary sense of loss, even though he realized that he 
would be seeing her again shortly, "Monica," he called out. 

Reyes stopped and turned to look at him, one eyebrow lifted, 
"Yes?" 

Skinner moved close to her and took her face in his hands, "Why 
don't you bring back a change of clothes ... and anything else 
you think you will need in the morning?" 

Reyes smiled tenderly at him and placed her arms around his 
neck, pulling his head down towards hers. "You betcha!" she 
replied just before their lips met. 

The Thirsty Camel could have been any kind of hotel lounge. 
Slightly dimmed lighting, comfortable tables and chairs and good 
music playing on the stereo system, definitely geared to the 
over 40's crowd. There was a dance floor for those who wanted to 
enjoy some physical activity and fast and friendly food and 
beverage service. 

Skinner and Reyes sat at one of the corner tables, finishing off 
their meal and a pitcher of beer. Neither was in the mood for 
anything too heavy, so they agreed to share an appetizer platter 
piled high with Buffalo wings, fried shrimp, batter-dipped fried 
mushrooms, potato skins and fried mozzarella. The combination 
was just what they both needed to fill the empty places in their 
stomachs and restore energy. 

Reyes had changed into an orange cotton sundress that emphasized 
the beauty of her dark hair and eyes. Looking at her across the 
table, Skinner was still trying to figure out why she had chosen 
him for a lover. He had noticed how several of the single men in 
the lounge had looked her way when they entered. All she needed 
to do was give one of them a sign and they would be at her side. 
All of them young and good-looking ... she could have her pick. 
So why had she chosen him? 

"Walter, are you still there?" he heard her voice prodding him 
out of his reverie. 

"I'm sorry Monica, my mind was elsewhere," he said 
apologetically. 

"I could almost take offense at that, unless your mind was on 
me," Reyes teased, then she turned serious. "You know Walter, 
last night at dinner I talked a lot about myself. But I really 
don't know very much about you." 

Skinner realized the truth of her words. Despite their physical 
intimacy, he had really shared very little about himself with 
her. "That is true," he admitted. "And I suppose it really isn't 
fair. So why don't you tell me what you want to know about me?" 

"Why don't we start with where you were born," Reyes asked. "And 
then, just sort of tell me what you want me to know." 

"I was born in San Diego," Skinner began, thinking back. "My 
father was stationed there, but we moved to Detroit when he 
finished his service. He worked as a platform designer for 
General Motors." 

"Are your parents still in living in Detroit?" Reyes asked. 

Skinner felt the sadness descend on him as he thought about his 
parents. "They're dead," he said quietly. "It was back in 1989 
... they were on a plane out of Detroit heading for California 
to visit some old friends. The plane crashed as it tried to take 
off. There was only one survivor, a baby girl." 

Reyes reached out and took his hand in hers, "Oh my God, Walter 
I'm so sorry," she whispered. "That must have been such a 
shock!" 

"Yeah, it was," Skinner spoke in a voice dulled by grief as he 
remembered receiving the news. "I tried to tell myself that at 
least they died together, and it happened quickly so maybe they 
never knew what was coming. Still ... " he paused for a moment. 

"Still that doesn't make it any easier," Reyes finished for him, 
squeezing his hand tightly. 

Skinner was grateful for the contact of her hand and returned 
the squeeze. "Anyway, they're gone now. But I do have a brother 
and sister. Mike is an investment banker in New York and Brenda 
is a history professor at Cambridge University." 

"So how did you happen to come into the FBI?" Reyes enquired. 

"When I got out of the Marines, I went to school on the G.I. 
Bill," Skinner explained. "I was taking a mixed bag of classes 
then, mostly business administration, but I knew I didn't really 
want to go into business. I had this crazy idea of wanting to 
continue to serve my country in a civilian capacity. A 
Department of Justice recruiter came and spoke at a career fair. 
Listening to him speak about Federal Law enforcement, about not 
just the career opportunities but the chance to do some good for 
our country, I knew then that's what I wanted to do with my 
life. I switched my major to criminal law with a business 
administration minor. I applied even before I graduated. Then I 
went right to work for the Bureau a week after I got my degree." 

"You went into the Marines before you went to college?" Reyes 
asked. "That must have been bad luck, getting a low draft 
number.' 

"I wasn't drafted," Skinner explained. "I enlisted. Went to the 
recruiting office the day after I graduated." 

"You enlisted?" Reyes was obviously surprised. "Wasn't that ... 
I mean ... I don't want to assume about your age, but wasn't 
that during Vietnam?" 

"Yes, it was," Skinner replied. "I joined up in June 1968. 
Things in Vietnam were really beginning to heat up then." 

"I don't understand," Reyes face showed true puzzlement. "Why 
would you voluntarily enlist when you knew you would probably be 
sent to Vietnam." 

Skinner was silent for a moment. It had been a long time since 
he had been asked that question ... years in fact ... and the 
last person who had asked it was an anti-war protester who found 
it impossible to understand what had driven him to enlist. He 
searched for the words to try to explain his feelings to the 
young woman sitting across from him. Finally, he sighed, "That's 
not an easy thing to explain, Monica. I suppose that what it 
comes down to is I love this country. I love everything that it 
stands for, here and overseas. And back then, I truly believed 
that if my country needed me, then I had to answer that call. My 
country needed me to fight for the principle of freedom, even 
though it was in a small country in Asia." 

Reyes said nothing, but continued to watch him, her eyes fixed 
searchingly upon his face as he continued. "I don't mean to 
sound like a super-patriot. I wasn't then and I'm not now. But I 
felt the need to protect our ideals, and to serve our country, 
even back then. So I didn't wait; I enlisted. Because for me, it 
was the right thing to do." 

"Have you ever regretted your decision, Walter?" Reyes asked. 

Again, Skinner was silent, his eyes bent downward, seeing not 
the table but a series of images from the past. His mind went 
back to those days of hellish basic training, the punishment his 
body and his mind took. He remembered those days in the jungle, 
the first combat action he took part in. The first human life he 
ever took. He remembered the mental anguish it caused him, a 
pain so great that he sought to block it out with drugs. He felt 
again the agony of bullets and shrapnel ripping into his flesh 
... the fear of death and the long slow recovery. Watching his 
comrades, his brothers-in-arms going down under hails of 
grenades and gunfire. Brave men who would never come home again, 
or if they did, like him, would never be the same. He remembered 
all that it had done to shape him, to make him what he was. 

Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. The 
_expression in his eyes was sad, haunted, and yet also contained 
great pride. "No, Monica," he replied. "I will never regret my 
decision. When I enlisted, I did the right thing ... for our 
country ... and for me!" 

He was surprised to see her eyes fill with tears as her lips 
formed a tremulous smile filled with emotion and awe, "Oh 
Walter," she breathed, "You are so very special." 

Skinner was pleased by her obvious admiration, but at the same 
time, felt slightly uncomfortable by it. Rapidly, his mind 
sought a way to change the direction of the conversation. He was 
helped when the tune on the stereo system changed to a slow, 
soft instrumental tune, Floyd Cramer's "Last Dance." It had been 
a favorite of his for years. "How would you like to dance, 
Monica?" he asked her. 

Reyes was surprised by this offer, but also pleased and eager, 
"I would love to dance with you," she replied. 

They rose from the table and, taking her hand, he led her out to 
the dance floor. He pulled her close, wrapping one arm around 
her slender waist as they began to move to the slow, old-
fashioned tune. As their bodies pressed together, gliding slowly 
and rhythmically to the music, Skinner was beginning to feel the 
stirrings of desire again, this time mingled with something 
more, a kind of tenderness. He gazed down into Reyes face, his 
eyes meeting hers and he could tell that she knew what he was 
thinking and feeling. Her lips curved into that sweet smile he 
was coming to love, then she silently rested her head upon his 
shoulder as the continued to dance. Skinner held her still 
closer, breathing in her scent and simply enjoying the warmth 
and the feel of her body pressed against his as the music 
surrounded them. 

When the song ended, Reyes lifted her head from his shoulder and 
pulled back slightly so she could look straight up into his 
face. "Why don't we call it a night, Walter?" she asked. "Let's 
pay the check and go back to your place." 

"No, you can't do that to him!" 

Scully stood before Skinner out side of the pathology lab, her 
eyes flashing fire. "Agent Scully, you know it's procedure ... " 
he began. 

"You can't do it," she all but screamed back at him. "I won't 
let any one cut him up!" 

Skinner grasped her shoulders tightly in his own, turning her to 
face him, "My God, Dana, do you think I want to let them do 
this?" he demanded. "But it's agency procedure with an 
unexplained death. Don't you want to know what killed Mulder?" 

"I already know," Scully shouted back, her face a mask of rage. 
"Damn it, sir, I've already conducted two autopsies and I know 
exactly what they're going to find in there. Nothing different 
from what we found in the other two. Those bastards that took 
him tortured him to death, pure and simple." 

Then the rage left her to be replaced with an overwhelming 
sadness and despair, "Sir, you can stop this," she pleaded. 
"He's already been cut and battered and examined enough. Doing 
it now won't change anything ... it won't bring him back. Please 
... please sir ... after what he went through ... can't we let 
him rest in peace?" 

His heart accepted what she was saying, but his head still 
reminded him of the usual procedures to be followed in the death 
of an agent. "Dana, I understand," he told her softly. "And if 
it was up to me ..." 

"Don't give me that crap, it is up to you," her _expression 
hardened and her voice was once again steely. "This is the last 
thing you can do for Mulder. Don't you think you owe him at 
least that much ... sir!" 

Skinner winced as her words cut like a knife, knowing the 
meaning that lay behind them. The least he could do ... since he 
had failed to protect Mulder. And Scully was right ... what was 
the point of an autopsy when they all knew that he had been 
tortured to death? Why allow the coroners and scientists to hack 
away even more at the pitiful remains? 

Wordlessly, Skinner turned away from Scully and opened the door 
to the pathology lab, where, discreetly covered by a gray sheet, 
the body of Fox Mulder lay on a cold metal table. The coroner 
and his assistant were just preparing the instrument tray to 
begin and looked up in surprise as he entered. "Mr. Skinner ... 
" the coroner began. 

"You can put those things away," Skinner told them. "There isn't 
going to be an autopsy on Agent Mulder." 

"But I thought ..." the coroner tried to speak again, but 
Skinner interrupted "You thought wrong! No autopsy!" 

The coroner shrugged and put the instrument tray away, turning 
to his assistant, "Come on, Stan," As the pair turned to leave, 
the coroner called over his shoulder, "I'll sign the papers to 
have the body released, then. We'll return it to the morgue 
until arrangements are made for pickup." 

As they left the pathology lab, Scully entered and moved quietly 
to Skinner's side. "Thank you, sir," she murmured. 

Skinner looked at the small red-haired woman, who in a few 
moments had gone from a wild, raging termagant to a quietly 
sorrowful Madonna. "You were right, Dana," he told her gently. 
"There was no purpose to be served." 

Scully nodded and then turned away and moved to the metal table. 
With a shaking hand, she reached out and pulled down the sheet 
to reveal Fox Mulder's bruised head and shoulders. Skinner 
couldn't help but feel that he was intruding as he watched her 
reach out and brush a lock of hair from Mulder's forehead, run 
her hand along his cheek and his chin. Then she raised her hand 
first to her mouth, allowing it to touch her own lips, then 
reached out and laid her fingers across Mulder's mouth. "No one 
will ever hurt you again, Mulder," she whispered through the 
tears that streamed down her face. "You can rest safely now ... 
I promise." 

Scully turned away then and brushed past Skinner, quickly 
leaving the room as her grief again engulfed her. Skinner knew 
he should go after her, but first he had something else to do. 
And so he approached the metal table and stood looking down at 
the still, stark and tortured face of his fallen agent. "I am so 
sorry, Mulder," he spoke through a lump in his throat that 
threatened to choke him. "I was supposed to look out for you ... 
to keep you safe. I failed to do that. I betrayed you. I let you 
down and I let Dana down." 

Skinner began to shake with the emotions that were stirring 
inside him ... the anger ... the grief and the guilt. Despite 
all of his efforts at control, the tears began to flow and his 
voice began to shake. "It's all my fault," he moaned as he sank 
to his knees beside the metal table. "Forgive me, Mulder ... 
please forgive me for letting you down!" . . . . . . . 

. . . . . . "Walter ... Walter, wake up," the voice that broke 
through his consciousness was insistent, determined and 
feminine. "Come on, Walter. Wake up!" 

Skinner shook himself awake, sitting bolt upright in the bed, 
breathless and with his chest heaving. Where? ... What? ... then 
he remembered ... Phoenix ... the vacation ... Monica Reyes. 

He turned to see her lying beside him, propped up on one elbow. 
In the moonlight that streamed through the window, he could see 
the worried look on her face. "Walter, are you all right?" she 
asked. 

Skinner nodded as he regained his breath. "I'm fine, Monica," he 
told her. "Fine. Just a nightmare." 

"Are you sure that's all it was?" Reyes continued, her concern 
evident. "You were shaking and moaning in your sleep ..." 

"I'm sure, Monica," he told her. "It was just a nightmare. I'm 
just sorry I woke you." 

Reyes shook her head at those words, "That doesn't matter," she 
said quietly as she lay back on the pillow. She extended her 
arms out to him, "Come here, Walter." 

Skinner accepted the invitation and lay back on the bed in her 
embrace, his head pillowed on her breast. His tense body began 
to relax as he felt her gently stroking his shoulders, neck, and 
head. "It's okay," she murmured soothingly. "It's okay, Walter. 
Just relax and try to go back to sleep." 

The warmth of her body, the feather lightness of her caresses, 
the sound of her words washing over him and her heart beating 
underneath his ear served to soothe and calm him, and banish the 
remaining thoughts of the nightmare from his mind. He sighed 
deeply, closed his eyes ... and sank into oblivion. 

He awoke to the feeling of something tickling his nose and his 
chin. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with bright sunshine and 
the sight of dark hair upon the pillow next to his. Monica Reyes 
lay close to him, not quite next to him, her back to him. 

Skinner stretched lazily in the large bed, a smile coming to his 
face as he remembered the events of the day before ... and the 
night. He moved closer to Reyes until he was right next to her 
and spooned his body along hers, line for line, from her head 
resting against his chest down to her feet pressed against his, 
slipping his arm over and around her, encircling her waist. 

Holding her like that, he allowed his mind to drift back to what 
had transpired earlier in the evening, after they had returned 
from the lounge. Their lovemaking had been long, slow and 
leisurely, and again Reyes had been a generous and giving lover. 
She was as aggressive as he was in her actions, giving pleasure 
as easily as she took it. She had played his body like an 
instrument, finding the caresses that he enjoyed the most, 
locating the areas of his body that gave the most pleasure and 
slowly, tantalizingly leading him to a deliciously long and 
intense release, while enjoying the sensations and climax that 
he gave to her. It had been a wonderful, magical night ... 
except for ... resolutely; he pushed the nightmare out of his 
mind. He wouldn't think about that right now. Not here, not with 
her lying next to him, warm and soft. 

Skinner felt Reyes begin to move within his arms and lay still, 
waiting to see what she would do. Reyes gave a deep sigh and 
seemed almost to stretch. Then she moved her body backwards, 
closer to Skinner until she was pressed tightly against him. A 
single "Mmmmmmmm!" escaped her lips as she settled deeper in his 
embrace. 

Skinner couldn't help it and gave a chuckle that rumbled through 
his belly and out his throat and his arm tightened around Reyes. 
He felt her move slightly and then heard her sleepy voice, 
"What's so funny?" 

"I was just lying here trying not to move to see what you would 
do," Skinner replied. 

"What do you mean, what would I do?" 

"I wondered whether your first move would be to pull away or 
move closer," Skinner answered. 

At that, Reyes did pull back slightly, but only enough to turn 
over so that she was facing him, but still in his arms. "And did 
I do what you hoped," she asked, with a faint smile. 

Skinner smiled back, brushing strands of hair from her face, "Oh 
yes, you certainly did." 

Reyes smile grew even wider as she reached out and touched 
Skinner's cheek with her hand, "As if you didn't think I'd make 
a move to get closer," she teased. 

"Well, I didn't really know for sure," Skinner teased back. "So 
how do you feel this morning?" 

"How do I feel ..." Reyes mused, "Hmm ... let me think about 
that ... how about ... safe ... comfortable ... satisfied?" 

"I like the sound of that," Skinner murmured. 

Reyes raised her arms and wound them around his neck, "And let's 
see ... sexy ... cherished ... and happy." 

"Happy?" Skinner asked, pulling her closer. 

"I'm waking up in bed with a wonderful man after having enjoyed 
hours of passionate lovemaking," Reyes replied as she drew his 
head towards hers. "How could I not be happy. Only one thing 
would make me happier ... " 

"And what would that be, Ms. Reyes?" Skinner enquired although 
he knew very well. 

"This ..." and her lips met his. Their first kiss of the 
morning, was slow, deep and wet. Her mouth opened to his and 
their kiss became more passionate and demanding. His hands began 
to explore her body as he felt the desire rise up in him again, 
caressing her breasts, belly, and more. Her own hands were 
equally busy, seeking and finding, sending shivers of delight 
through him. 

Although he wouldn't have believed it possible after his earlier 
efforts, Skinner made love to Reyes with even more passion than 
he had during the night. It seemed to him that it was even more 
successful, for he was able to prolong his desire longer this 
morning, bringing her to climax after climax before achieving 
his own release. 

When it was over they both lay spent, wrapped in each other's 
arms, listening to the sounds of their own breathing and the 
desert birds singing outside their window. Reyes was the first 
to recover and propped herself up on one elbow, looking down on 
Skinner with a wicked little smile, "You, Walter Skinner, really 
know how to wake a girl up," she teased. 

"So you enjoyed that wake-up call, Monica?" Skinner enquired. 

"Much more than my radio alarm at home," Reyes giggled. "Now, 
what shall we do today, lover?" 

By the time Skinner and Reyes had showered, dressed and had a 
quick, light breakfast it was already going on 11 a.m. They had 
considered various options, such as a visit to the Grand Canyon 
and Sedona, but decided it was too late in the day for that. 
"It's really a full day's trip with an early start," the helpful 
concierge explained. "The same thing with the Horseback Riding 
day trip. What I would suggest is that you take the Cowboy Train 
Ride. That will take you up into the Apache territory and you'll 
have a chance to see quite bit. It will take you an hour to 
drive up to the Canyon station, and the train ride itself takes 
about two hours." 

"That sounds perfect," Reyes exclaimed happily. "Walter, why 
don't you get the directions to the Canyon Station while I bring 
the car around?" 

When Skinner met her out front, she was sitting in the passenger 
side of her sporty red Mustang convertible. "Hey, what's up with 
this," he asked. 

"I drove yesterday because I knew where we were going and you 
didn't," Reyes explained. "Today I don't know any more than you 
do and you have the directions. So I'm going to kick back and 
let you do the driving. Besides ... " she grinned impishly, "I 
know you're just dying to get behind the wheel of this baby." 

Skinner grinned back, realizing that she was right ... he had 
longed to drive the powerful red car. Reyes tossed the keys to 
him and he caught them deftly with his right hand. Lowering his 
tall frame into the low-slung vehicle, he placed the keys in the 
ignition, switched it on and carefully drove out of the resort 
compound. 

Once on the desert freeway, though, he pressed his foot to the 
accelerator and let the car cut loose. The car handled well, the 
steering and operating systems responsive to his lightest touch 
and the sensation of the car tearing up the freeway, wind 
blowing all around him was exhilarating. 

"Whoo hooo!," he heard Reyes exclaim and turned his head briefly 
to glance at her. She was wearing her sunglasses but had removed 
her hat and her hair was whipping around her face. Her cheeks 
were flushed by the wind and her face wore an excited smile as 
she turned to Skinner, "Whoa there, Walter! You're a regular 
speed demon!" 

Skinner laughed in pure exhilaration as he turned his attention 
back to the road. He felt like a kid again ... a boy of 17 or 18 
when the most important things in the world were a fast car and 
a pretty girl. A time of innocence and freedom with no cares and 
no worries. A time before Vietnam ... Sharon ... the FBI ... 
Mulder and Scully. 

He had it all right there at that moment ... the fast car ... 
the pretty girl. Everything the young Walter Skinner could have 
wanted. And he appreciated it even more now. He knew that of all 
of the memories he might take back from his vacation, this 
moment would be one of the most cherished. This moment when he 
was zipping through the desert in a rented Mustang convertible, 
with a laughing Monica Reyes at his side ... a moment when he 
had his carefree youth back. 

As the concierge had said, it took Skinner and Reyes an hour to 
reach the Canyon Station in Clarksdale. After parking the car, 
they walked to an old-fashioned ticket turnstile where a smiling 
young girl greeted them cheerfully. "How can I help you?" 

"We're here for the Cowboy Train Ride," Skinner told her. 

"Well, we have two different schedules," the girl explained. 
"There's the two hour ride that will take you on the shorter 
route through the North Verde River Canyon. Then there's a 
longer route that will take you about four hours." 

"What do you think, Monica?" Skinner turned to his companion. 

"Well, it's 12:20 now," Reyes calculated. "If we take the four-
hour, that means we won't get back until 4:30 and still have an 
hour's drive back to the Phoenician." 

"Actually, it will be 5 p.m. by the time you get back," the girl 
continued. "The next four-hour tour doesn't go out until 1 p.m." 

"Why don't we take the two-hour tour, Walter," Reyes suggested. 
"We'll still see plenty and that will get us back to hotel early 
enough to take a swim and relax before we decide what to do 
tonight." 

Skinner couldn't help but smile as he realized that she was 
planning on continuing on with him into the evening. It felt 
both strange and wonderful to be thinking and planning 
activities as a couple, instead of by himself. "Okay, then we'll 
take the two-hour tour," he told the girl 

"And what kind of seating accommodation would you like," the 
girl asked. "We can put you in one of the First-Class seating 
cars. It's a plush, air-conditioned car with very luxurious 
seating. Or you can have seats in one of the open touring cars. 
The seats are comfortable, and you're right out there with a 
clear view of everything." 

"Oh Walter, let's do the open car," Reyes exclaimed. "That will 
be so much more fun than sitting in a closed compartment." 

"I agree, Monica," Skinner replied, turning back to the girl 
"We'll have two tickets for the open touring car." 

The girl smiled and handed them their tickets, gesturing to the 
waiting train, "You can board right over there, sir." 

"Thank you, you've been very helpful," Skinner told her as he 
accepted the tickets. 

The girl smiled at him, "Thank you, sir. I hope that you and 
your wife enjoy your tour." 

Skinner felt himself blush at those words ... your wife. His 
blush deepened when Reyes slipped her hand into his and flashed 
the girl a brilliant smile, "Thank you, I'm sure we will." 

They passed through the turnstile where a porter took their 
tickets and directed them to the waiting car. The train itself 
looked like something out of a picture book of old railroads ... 
at the head of the train was a vintage FP7 diesel locomotive. 
The next few cars were beautiful antique-looking Pullmans, black 
with silver trim. The final three cars were the open-air cars. 
They were charming affairs, polished brown wood with a reddish-
fringed canopy providing shade. The seats were more like 
benches, carved wood with comfortable fringed cushions. Bringing 
up the rear was a picture-perfect red caboose. 

Skinner and Reyes boarded their car and Skinner guided her to 
one of the benches. He quickly noted that the benches were 
perfect for two people who wanted to sit close, but not too 
close together. She took the seat closest to the outside railing 
and he sat down beside her next to the aisle. A smiling 
attendant passed through and announced "We'll be pulling out in 
five minutes." 

Reyes turned towards Skinner and looked up at him, laughing, 
"Well, your blush has finally faded." 

Skinner pretended that he didn't know what she meant, "Blush, 
what blush?" 

"That blush you got when the girl called me your wife," she 
replied. 

"Oh, that one," he responded, and to his embarrassment, he found 
that he was blushing again. 

"Oh no, not again," Reyes giggled. "Walter, what is it about me 
being called your wife that's making you blush?" 

Skinner looked down at his hands for a moment, then looked back 
up at her, his face suddenly serious. "Maybe it's because I'm 
old enough to be your father," he told her frankly. 

Reyes stopped giggling and her eyes met his with warm 
understanding and affection. Once again she reached for his hand 
and held it tightly in her own, "But you're not my father, 
Walter," she replied seriously. "And I could never think of you 
as a father." 

"Then just what am I to you?" Skinner asked, suddenly realizing 
that he needed to hear this, needed to know how she viewed him, 
even though he was picking a hell of a time and place to ask. 

But Reyes didn't appear bothered by the question. "You are a 
kind, decent, gentle, strong, and passionate man," she replied. 
"And to me, right now, you are my friend and my lover ... and 
the one man that I want to spend the rest of this vacation 
with." 

Skinner was torn by feelings that he couldn't completely explain 
... pride and joy at her words and the knowledge that this 
lovely young woman was saying them to him. But also a sense of 
shame that he needed ... truly needed ... to hear those words 
from her. 

Suddenly, there was a jerk and the train began to move forward. 
Reyes eyes began to sparkle with excitement as the train began 
to move and she pressed closer to him on the bench, "Here we go! 
Oh, Walter, this is going to be so exciting!" 

Her excitement and enthusiasm was contagious and Skinner began 
to feel a sense of anticipation as the journey began. Settling 
in, he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close 
as they both watched the train station disappear as the train 
began to move toward the mountain ridge ahead. 

Before long, it seemed to Skinner as if he had been transported 
to another time. He realized as the train entered into the 
mountain ridge that he was making the same journey that settlers 
and Indians had made more than a century before. 

As the train began to twist and turn through the various 
mountain passes on into the canyon, Skinner was struck by the 
beauty and majesty of the towering red rocks and crimson cliffs. 
As the train passed through the railroad trestles, he became 
aware that years before, pioneers, ranchers and miners had 
passed through those same trestles. He felt what he was certain 
was the same sense of awe and wonder that they had felt as they 
passed through into the wild beauty of this country. 

The train continued to roll, and they came upon an old 
settlement; the ruins of what had once been a thriving community 
of Sinagua Indians. As the train slowed slightly to allow 
passengers a clear view, he became aware that Reyes was 
trembling beside him. He looked over at her and saw a look of 
sadness upon her face and tears glistening in her eyes. "Monica, 
what's wrong," he asked, concerned. 

Reyes continued to look out at the ruins, the sadness becoming 
more intense. "I can feel them all around us, the spirits of the 
people who used to live here," she said softly. "Once this place 
was full of vital, strong men who hunted and fished. And women 
who raised their children and kept their homes. It was a place 
filled with people who lived and loved and were one with the 
land. And now ... now, this is all that's left. It's so sad." 

Reyes turned to him then and he could see that two tears had 
escaped from her eyes and were slowly rolling down her cheeks, 
"I know you must think I'm silly ..." she whispered. 

Skinner reached out and brushed away her tears with his hand, 
then pulled her closer to him, holding her comfortingly. "No, I 
don't think you're silly at all," he told her gently. "It is sad 
to think that a civilization that was once here is gone. And I 
think you have a very large, very warm heart that enables you to 
feel that sadness so deeply." 

Reyes snuggled closer to him, grateful for the comfort he 
provided. He kissed the top of her head and then spied something 
in the grass as the train passed to the end of the encampment. 
"Monica, look ..." 

Reyes lifted her head and her eyes followed his pointing finger 
to see a colony of deer standing at the edge of the ruins. 
Bucks, does and fawns, a good 15-20 deer by the looks of it. 
"You see, Monica," Skinner told her. "It's not all dead here. 
There is still life in this place." 

Reyes looked up at him with shining eyes and the smile on her 
face warmed his heart. "Oh yes, there is," she exclaimed. "Thank 
you for understanding, Walter." She turned back to watch the 
deer, an almost childlike joy on her face, "Oh God, they're so 
beautiful!" 

As the train continued to roll they passed through the canyon 
and viewed the mountain lakes and streams. They saw the various 
types of plants, flowers and small wildlife that inhabited the 
canyon. They were enchanted by the blue herons and some of the 
other wild birds that flew through the air and sang their sweet 
songs in the canyon, filling it with music. They laughed at the 
antics of the prairie dogs and actually spied a lone coyote on 
one of the cliffs. 

Then, there came a very special moment. Soaring over the river, 
dipping majestically as it flew toward the train, was a bald 
eagle. As it flew towards them, letting out a scream, Skinner 
felt a deep sense of wonder and a surge of pride. He was 
watching an eagle, a symbol of American freedom, one of the 
symbols he had been willing to fight and die for years ago. He 
stood up and leaned against the railing, watching as the eagle 
circled, around and then flew straight toward the train. Only a 
few yards away it dipped, so that it flew almost eye level with 
Skinner, just a few yards out. It seemed to Skinner as though 
the eagle's eyes met his own, and though he knew this wasn't 
possible, he felt a connection with the great bird. 
Unconsciously he straightened and stood at attention, catching 
his breath at the sight. Then, as if in salute, the eagle dipped 
its wings before it once again soared upward, emitting a 
piercing cry as it flew back toward the river. 

Skinner slowly released the breath he had been holding and sat 
back down on the bench next to Reyes. She was looking at him 
with a proud, fond smile and she slipped her hand into his. His 
fingers returned her clasp as he spoke, "That was an incredible 
sight, Monica." 

"Yes it was," Reyes agreed. "It was as though you and the eagle 
were speaking to each other, without words." 

"That's how it felt," Skinner exclaimed, astonished at her 
perceptions. "I felt ... I can't quite explain it ... but I felt 
a connection, as though it was seeking me out." 

"Perhaps it was," Reyes said seriously. "Many of the Indian 
tribes believe that people can share a spiritual connection with 
the animals of the earth, and that connection draws them to each 
other." She paused for a moment and gazed at his face 
searchingly, checking to see his reaction. "I believe you have 
the spirit of an eagle, Walter," she continued. "Proud, strong 
and brave. So perhaps the eagle was seeking you out ... it saw 
in you its spiritual brother." 

Skinner looked back off into the distance, his eyes following 
the path that the eagle had taken. Then he looked back at Reyes, 
squeezing her hand even tighter, "I don't know about that," he 
said quietly. "But I do know that it was a moment I'll never 
forget. And I am glad that you were here to share it with me." 

"So am I, Walter," Reyes repeated, squeezing his hand in return. 
"So am I." 

"That's one Long Island Iced Tea and one screwdriver," the 
waiter said as he placed their drinks in front of them. 

Skinner and Reyes were seated at one of the tables at the Mother 
of Pearl pool, having enjoyed a refreshing swim in opulent 
surroundings that resembled one of the ancient Roman baths. Now 
they were lounging in the warm sunshine, perfectly content and 
relaxed in each other's company. 

"So any ideas on what you would like to do tonight," Skinner 
asked. 

Reyes pondered the question for a moment as she sipped at her 
Long Island Iced Tea. "Well, let's see ... we could go to some 
of the dance clubs in Phoenix," she proposed. 

"That's one possibility," Skinner agreed. 

"Or ... we could go over to the Valley View Mall and shop till 
we drop," was Reyes next suggestion. 

Skinner did his best to hide his dismay at that suggestion, 
"Well, if that's what you really want ..." he said reluctantly, 
and then he saw the wicked gleam in Reyes' eyes and grinned, 
realizing that she was pulling his leg. "Okay, stop that and 
tell me what you'd really like to do." 

"You mean besides get you back in bed and make wild, mad, 
passionate love to you?" she queried archly. 

"Oh, I'm sure I can arrange that particular activity for later 
on tonight," Skinner countered, finding to his surprise that he 
enjoyed playing this game with her. "But isn't there something 
you'd like to do before we get down to late night fun and 
games?" 

"Okay, I'll tell you what I'd really like to do, but you may 
think it's a bit ... well, teenager-ish," Reyes replied. 

"Try me," Skinner prompted. 

"There's this drive-in restaurant on Main Street ... the Desert 
Rose," Reyes answered, her eyes sparkling eagerly. "They have 
the best burgers in the world and their malteds are heavenly. 
I'd like to go there for dinner. And then ... I'd like to see a 
movie." 

"I'll say this for you Monica, you are full of surprises," 
Skinner said, shaking his head. "I offer you your choice of 
anything that you want to do and you choose a burger and a 
movie. It sounds almost like a first date." 

"Exactly!" Reyes exclaimed. "Oh, I know it really isn't a FIRST 
date ... but that's what I want to share with you tonight. An 
old-fashioned date ... just like a couple of kids. What do you 
say?" 

Skinner thought about it for a moment, "I say I think I'd love 
to have an old-fashioned date with you, Monica," he replied. 
"Just one question though ... who gets to pick the movie?" 

"I do, of course," Reyes replied. "After all, I asked you for 
the date, so I get to pick the movie." 

"Oh no ..." Skinner groaned. "Chick flick, right!" 

Reyes stuck her tongue out at him, then ducked as he threw a 
balled-up napkin at her. "Oh you think you know me so well, 
don't you?" she queried. "It would serve you right if I did make 
you take me to a chick flick. I'm sure I could find a theater 
playing something like 'Chocolat,' 'House of Mirth,' or 'Return 
to Me.' Or maybe a revival house where we could see something 
like 'Dark Victory' or 'Camille'." 

Skinner groaned again but decided not to say anything more since 
he didn't want to tempt her to make good on that threat. 
"Actually, there is a theatre a few miles north of the Desert 
Rose that specializes in revivals," Reyes continued. "I checked 
and they're running 'High Noon' this week. I'd love to see that 
movie." 

"'High Noon?'" Skinner asked. "Isn't that a Western?" 

"It sure is," Reyes answered, "One of the best, with Gary Cooper 
and Grace Kelly. It's also one of my favorites." 

"I hate to admit this," Skinner told her, "But I've never seen 
it." 

"You're kidding," Reyes exclaimed. "I can't believe you've never 
seen that movie. That settles it then. We're going to see 'High 
Noon.' I can't imagine a better way to spend the evening then 
sitting in a dark theater, seeing one of my favorite movies on a 
big screen and sharing it with you." 

Skinner took along pull at his screwdriver, draining the glass 
and then he stood up, "If that's the case Monica, I suggest we 
head on back to our rooms," he told her. "I have to get ready 
for a hot date." 

"Wait a-long ... wait a-lo-on-ng!" 

The last lines and notes of the closing theme played as the 
lights slowly came up in the darkened movie theater. Reyes 
turned to Skinner with an eager smile on her face, "Well, what 
did you think?" 

"I think that was one of the best movies I've ever seen," 
Skinner replied enthusiastically. "I can't believe that movie is 
... what ... nearly 50 years old? It seems like it could have 
been made this year." 

"I know," Reyes replied as she gathered her straw bag and stood 
up. "The director was really ahead of his time. The way they set 
that up with those camera angles ... the whole story taking 
place in real time. It was very revolutionary for the 1950s." 

Skinner also rose and they slipped out of the row of seats and 
walked back up the aisle into the lobby of the old-fashioned 
movie palace. "That's true, but that's not what I meant," 
Skinner continued as he threw the empty popcorn container and 
soda pop cup into the trashcan. "I was thinking of the whole 
story. One man standing up for what he believes in, no matter 
what the cost. Even if he has to do it alone." 

As they walked out of the theater into the warm desert night, 
Reyes took Skinner's arm and looked up at him. "That is true, 
the whole story is timeless," she agreed. "And Gary Cooper was 
perfect for the part. Played it as if he believed every word." 

"I know, he reminds me of every image I ever had of the true 
western hero, the "real" American ideal," Skinner replied. As 
they walked along to the car, he was musing silently for a 
moment, trying to decide whether he should speak and tell her 
what was on his mind. "You may think this is strange Monica, but 
do you know who I was thinking of all during that movie?" 

"Who?" she asked, turning her dark eyes on him. 

"Mulder," Skinner answered, finding it difficult to articulate 
the man's name. "It reminded me of him, one man standing alone. 
Although at the end, Will Kane wasn't completely alone ... he 
had his bride standing beside him, despite her misgivings." 

"And you see ... who ... Agent Scully ... as the bride," Reyes 
countered as they approached the car. 

Skinner opened the door for her and held it as she slid into her 
seat, then walked around to his side. "Yes ... Scully was always 
skeptical and rarely agreed with Mulder," Skinner continued. 
"But when it came right down to it, when things got rough she 
always stood by him." 

He lowered himself into the car and slipped the keys into the 
ignition. As he was about to turn the key, Reyes laid a hand on 
his arm and he turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were 
full of warmth, "Actually, Walter, I don't think of Mulder when 
I think of Will Kane," she said softly. "I think of you." 

"Of me?" Skinner was truly surprised at her words. "Why me, 
Monica? I'm certainly no hero." 

"Will Kane didn't think he was a hero either," Reyes reminded 
him. "He was a simple, decent man standing up for what he 
believed in. He was willing to go the distance, even sacrifice 
his own life, to defend the town that was entrusted to his care, 
even if he had to do it alone." She paused for a moment, then 
continued. "That's just like you with Mulder and Scully. You're 
willing to do anything to protect and defend them, even if you 
have to do it alone." 

Skinner felt a wave of bitterness and regret at her words, and 
he twisted his head around so he couldn't look in her face as he 
spoke, "That didn't help either of them very much," he muttered. 

Reyes reached up and laid her hand along his face, turning him 
back towards her. He saw a face filled with compassion and 
understanding. "Don't be too sure of that, Walter," she said 
quietly. "They both knew you were in their corner. And they both 
knew that you would go the distance for them. That's what really 
counts ... and that will help Agent Scully in the days ahead. 
She'll know she can lean on you." 

Skinner felt gratitude for her words and her understanding. He 
leaned over and gently kissed her, feeling his bitterness ease 
with the taste and feel of her warm lips. He pulled back and 
watched her slow smile cross her face. "Why don't we go back to 
the hotel, Walter?" she asked, an unmistakable invitation in her 
eyes. 

Skinner smiled back, "My thoughts exactly, Monica." He turned 
the key in the ignition, applied his foot to the accelerator, 
and they were off in the darkness, leaving the glittering lights 
of the theater behind them. 

They were barely in the door of his suite when Reyes turned 
playfully aggressive, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the 
bedroom. "Just a minute, Monica ..." he remonstrated, "Don't you 
want a drink ... or something ..." 

"Oh, I want something all right!" Reyes giggled, pulling him 
along with one hand while with the other she was ripping at the 
buttons of her blouse. Once in the bedroom, she quickly removed 
the rest of her clothes while Skinner removed his boots and 
socks, and then looking at him lasciviously. She made a little 
clucking sound, "Tsk! Tsk! Walter, you look terribly 
uncomfortable in all those clothes," she declared as she 
approached him. Before he knew wha