From  Tue Jan 14 13:09:09 1997
               
***  Explanation: This story was started before any news of the
"Avatar" episode of the X-FILES was released.  In other words,
before any mention of a wife or ex-wife for Asst. Director Walter
Skinner. In my story, there is no ex-wife or wife.  Walter
Skinner is, what I wish Chris Carter and the powers that be at
FOX had left him, a lone wolf!  A virile man who just has to
share himself with the lucky women he encounters. 

**** Warning!!!  The following story is rated XXX.
Do not read this if you are under 18 or if such stories upset,
shock or disgust you.

***** Disclaimer:  The character of Walter Skinner and any other
member of the X-FILES television family is the sole property of
Chris Carter and the FOX television network.


*****************************************************************




                    IRONIC
                      by
               Marjory A. Cwynar


The Wait


     With every passing moment, my impatience grew.  For the
umpteenth time this evening, I checked my watch.  He was now over
35 minutes late.  The note I received earlier had simply read, "8
p.m.  You know where."  Yes, I knew where all right.  It was the
same place where we had been meeting for the last ten years. 
      Whenever I was in D.C., we made sure that we had one entire
weekend together.  No work, no interruptions, no people.  Just
the two of us.  It had been over 10 months since our last
"illicit fling", as I liked to refer to it.  I smiled to myself,
remembering how he usually blushed when I said things like that.
It was easy for me to make him blush.  He could always make me
blush, too.  But it had nothing to do with words.  It had
everything to do with him.  I reached for my cocktail glass and
took another sip.  I savored the cool liquid, as I thought of his
splendid body.  The well-defined muscles of his powerful arms. 
His massive chest with just the perfect amount of hair.  His
strong, skillful hands.  His gorgeous, hungry mouth.  I closed my
eyes and thoroughly enjoyed the tingle that passed through my
entire body.  "It's definitely been too long between visits," I
said aloud to myself.  Yes, definitely too long.  If memories of
him could get me this hot and bothered, God help him when he does
finally show up.  I'll have to ravish him right here in the
middle of  Charley's.

     Charley's was now an upscale bar.  Ten years ago, it had
been a smoke-filled club that catered to true lovers of music
that was original, with a touch of the Blues.  I hadn't really
wanted to go into Charley's that night.  The neighborhood was a
little seedy, I was uncomfortable just being there. But the girls
from the embassy had insisted that we get a table and enjoy
ourselves for once.  It would be the last night out for our
group, as three of us were being reassigned in less than a week.
Knowing that I would miss not being with my friends and since I
was outnumbered, four to one, I relented and in doing so, changed
the course of my life.
     I took another drink.  Where was he?  He never was this late
before.  I started to worry a little.  Maybe something happened. 
Perhaps he'd been hurt again.  I fought the panic that started to
grow in my stomach.   I had been in Paris, earlier this year,
when he phoned me from his hospital bed, to tell me that he had
been shot.  Through my tears and endless sobs, he reassured me
over and over again that he was no longer in danger.  But when I
suggested that I could be in D.C. in less than twelve hours, he
told me no.  I was needed in Paris for the upcoming G-7
conference, he reminded me. What would the ambassador think if I
left now?  It would be an extremely bad career move he stated.  I
got angry then.  How dare he think that my career was more
important than being with him when he was hurt?  What kind of
heartless shrew did he think I was? After I had hung up on him,
twice,  and cried some more, I calmed down.  When the phone rang
again twenty minutes later, I was totally ashamed of my actions. 
He just laughed and promised me that the next time I was in D.C.,
he'd show me the scar.  In fact, he said telling me about the
incident, was scarier than actually being shot.  
     Another glance at my watch told me it was now 8:50.  Still
no sign of him.  I'll give him until nine, then I'll go back to
my hotel, I decided.  I had booked the same suite that I had the
last time I was in town.  It had a king-sized bed and a
wonderfully huge jacuzzi. The two of us had enjoyed and
experienced every inch of that room. We should be there right
now, I thought, anger rising in me.  We should be ripping the
clothes off each other by now.  Precious time was being wasted.
Where was he?  He should call if he can't get away.  How long
does he think I'll wait here anyway?  I should just go right now. 
It would serve him right to come strolling in here and find that
I've gone.
       I looked around the bar.  The clientele had definitely
changed, even since my last visit.  Charley's now was obviously
very popular with the Capitol Hill set.  Designer suits and haute
couture abounded.  From the poses of the patrons as they stood or
sat, engrossed in vapid conversation,  I concluded that I was in
"yuppie heaven".  And I didn't like it.  I longed for the time
when Charley's was a noisy lower class bar, where the scent of
beer and mildew had mingled with the smoke of countless
cigarettes.  I closed my eyes again and pictured him, as he had
looked the first time I saw him.  
     He had literally taken my breath away.  I had never seen any
man before that "had it all", as Gwen, my best friend at the
time, had put it.  He was standing at the bar, alone.  He was
tall and lean with a pair of muscular shoulders that could not be
hidden beneath the dark wool suit that he wore. His hair line was
beginning to recede and he wore eyeglasses, but he had a kind,
rugged face that was very appealing.  Even though I knew I
shouldn't,  I could not help but stare.  All five of us had
noticed him, actually.  But it was Claire, who suggested inviting
him to join us.  We did a quick round of elimination and it fell
to Jan, a petite blonde from the typing pool, to approach him.  I
remembered how a shiver had run down my spine and back up again,
when after a few seconds, Jan turned and winked at us, as he
followed her back to our table.  
     "Girls, this is Walter," she said.  "Walter, these are the
girls."  Jan then manoeuvred him into the seat next to her and
Kate.  He was right across the table from me.  He smiled politely
at us and I could see that he was beginning to wonder what he had
gotten himself into.  My friends were all talking at once, asking
him questions, answering his.  I sat quietly and watched.  He
fielded their questions expertly, but I could tell that he was
also a bit uncomfortable.  Suddenly I felt very sorry for him. 
These women were my friends, but I knew as a group they could be
very intimidating.  And when a man was involved they became very
competitive as well.  Already Claire and Jan were turning on
their charms, vying for a special look from him.  The game's
begun, I thought.  Time will only tell which one he goes home
with.  A sharp kick in my right calf from Gwen, got my attention. 
I realized that everyone was quietly looking at me, waiting.
     "What?'  I said. I hated being the center of attention.
     "Walt just asked you a question, silly," Kate said
mockingly.  It must have been some question, I thought.  Kate
doesn't use that tone of voice unless she's really put off.
     I could feel the color rise in my cheeks. Oh, God, I
thought, he's going to know that I wasn't listening.  He's going
to think I'm not interested in him, when the exact opposite was
true. I swallowed hard.
     "With all the noise in here, it's no wonder you couldn't
hear me," Walter said, his voice was soft and kind.
He smiled at me.  He had the warmest brown eyes, I'd ever seen.  
     "Noise, nothing, " Jan interrupted.  "She's always off
thinking some place,"  she added, as she lifted her glass to her
lips.  "She's the smart one." 
     Walter's eyes never left me.  "Smart is sexy," was all he
said.  
     Gwen told me later that Jan had started to choke on her
drink then, but all I could remember was that he was looking at
me with those gorgeous eyes.
     "Smart is sexy" I said out aloud, my eyes still closed,
seated in a modern Charley's, revelling in memories of a
Charley's of the past.
     "You got that right", he said suggestively.  It was the
voice I'd been longing to hear.  I opened my eyes.
       Walter Skinner moved into the booth beside me.  "Sorry I'm
so late.  It really couldn't be helped."  He was flushed and
breathless.  "I was afraid you might have gotten tired of
waiting.  I ran all the way here after I finally found a parking
space."  He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.  He was
wearing the aftershave I adored. "I'm glad you didn't leave."
     "The thought had crossed my mind," I said, trying to sound
displeased, recalling all the anguish that I had been through in
the past hour.  But it was no use, I could already feel my whole
body react because he was so close. 
     Walter looked at me with concern, "It really was something I
just couldn't leave."  He moved closer. "Do you honestly think
I'd stay away from you, if it wasn't something important?" he
asked. 
     "What do I know?" I responded, trying to keep the excitement
of being near him from my voice.  I wanted to make him squirm a
bit.  Feel some of the uncertainty that I had, waiting for him to
arrive.
     Walter reached up and touched my cheek. "You are so damned
beautiful," he said as he kissed me.  It was a deep passionate
kiss.  "Let's get out of here," he whispered.  "We have a long
drive ahead of us."
     "My hotel is less than fifteen minutes away."  I was puzzled
by his statement.
     Helping me on with my coat, Walter replied, "We're not going
to your hotel.  I rented a country house for us in Virginia. " 
He smiled lustfully at me, "I don't plan on sharing you with
anyone for the next 3 days."


*****************************************************************




The Drive


     We drove for about 40 minutes, every mile left the lights of
the D.C. area further behind us.  The night was clear.  The stars
shone brightly and I was once again caught up in the experience
that was Walter Skinner.  I longed to put my head on his shoulder
and feel his arm around me as we drove.  But this car was
government issue and it had bucket seats.
     "I hate these birth control seats," I said, using the
nickname we had for them when I was in my teens.
     Walter glanced at me and smiled.  "So do I," he answered. 
He then turned his attention back to the road.  There was very
little traffic.  It was like we were alone in the world.  We
drove on for a few more miles in silence.
     I watched him drive.  I loved looking at him, no matter what
he did.  The sight of him still took my breath away.  In fact,
through the years, I'd have to say that my passion for him had
grown.  I studied him closely. Time had been very good to him. 
He looked better now than he had ten years ago, if that was
possible.  I could tell that he took great pride in keeping
himself fit and what was the word they used these days..."buff"? 
I thought of a thousand different ways that I was going to show
my appreciation to him, this weekend, for all his hard work; 
when I noticed that his trench coat was open and that he was not
wearing his suit jacket.  I could feel a wicked, little smile
cross my face as I decided it was time to play.
      I sat up, loosened my seat belt and turned to face him the
best that I could.  Walter watched me from the corner of his eye,
my actions intrigued him.  I reached over and with my left hand I
removed his tie and started to rub his chest through the white
dress shirt he wore.  I purposely did not open a button on his
shirt.  I loved to feel his body through its starched crispness. 
Though the light from the dashboard was dim, I could see his
reaction.  My touch ignited something in him. He closed his eyes
briefly, savoring the contact of my fingers as I traced the
outline of his well-defined pectoral muscles.  
     "I'm trying to drive here," he said, regaining his
composure.
     "Just concentrate on the road."  I leaned closer and
whispered, "I'm going to concentrate on you."
     As my left hand moved across his chest and back again, I ran
my right hand up and down the outer side of his right thigh.  I
could feel his leg tense then relax under my touch.  I continued
this stroking for a few moments then decided I wanted more.  My
hands moved closer and closer to his lap. Walter breathed deeply
as I opened his belt and the button at the waist of his pants.  I
reached for his zipper.
     "Beth......I don't know if this is such a good idea," his
voice was low and throaty.
     "Keep your eyes on the road," I said sharply, "I'm not done
with you, yet."
     Walter took another deep breath and stared straight ahead. 
We drove on.
     I eased the zipper on his suit pants down as far as I could,
and placed my right hand on his rapidly growing bulge.  The
intense heat that radiated from him was exhilarating.  I pulled
the waistband of his boxer shorts down, out of my way, and found
my prize.  Cradling his almost erect penis in my hands, I began
to run my fingers up and down its ever expanding shaft.  I sat
silently enjoying the feel of his huge organ in my constantly
moving hands.
     After a few minutes, Walter finally spoke.  "I can't stand
much more of this,"  he sighed.  "I gonna pull this car over.
Now!"
     "No," I said.  "Not yet.  Keep driving, please......"  
     I stroked him very lightly, teasing the tip of his cock,
that now glistened with precum, with my fingernails.
At the same time, with my other hand, I held and squeezed his
scrotum.  Walter emitted a low groan and I felt the car's speed
increase.  I looked over at the speedometer and noticed we were
now travelling well above the speed limit.  
       Walter kept staring at the road ahead of us.  "We're
almost there," he reported, as his breathing grew more rapid.
     In more ways than one, I thought to myself and smiled.  In
my hands, his penis had grown to full erection and it throbbed as
I continued to stroke it.  I knew that it would not be long
before Walter was close to ejaculation and that timing was
everything, if I was to achieve what I set out to do.  I
continued my movements, waiting.  With each stroke his pleasure
intensified, and it delighted me to know that I was responsible.
Tenderly I massaged his maleness, watching it enlarge in size and
darken in color as his blood flow to the area increased.  We
drove on for several more minutes.  Then Walter's penis jerked in
my hand.
     "Bethany...." He could not control the urgency in his voice.
     That was my cue.  I moved my hand from his scrotum and with
firm pressure at the base of his shaft, I squeezed.  I released
the pressure and squeezed again.  I could feel that his cock was
slowly beginning to lose its stiffness.  I then turned my
attention to the engorged head of his penis.  I cupped my
fingertips around it and with my thumb on the vein that ran down
the underside of his pillar, I applied a light, steady pressure. 
As Walter's breathing returned to normal, I felt his organ start
to go limp in my hands.  I released my thumb and gave the tip of
his cock a little tickle.  Walter smiled, in spite of himself.  I
was extremely pleased with my handy work.  I had successfully
stopped his ejaculation.  I looked at him and smiled as I put his
cock safely back into his pants and zipped up his fly. I didn't
say a word, as I sat and watched him.
     "You are such a tease, " he said at last, still staring at
the road ahead. 
     I moved back and sat properly in my seat.  I reached over
and stroked the side of his face.  His cheek was hot to the
touch, obviously he was still flushed with excitement.  Walter
slowed the car and turned off the main road onto a tree-lined
lane.  "Are we there soon?" I asked, wondering what was in store
for me this weekend.  Anticipation was a marvellous aphrodisiac.
     "The house is less than two miles, up this road."  He looked
at me then, for the first time since I had started my travel
game.  "I won't forget about this, Beth," he said playfully. 
"You'll get yours.  I promise."



*****************************************************************



The Arrival


     In less than 10 minutes, we had everything carried in from
the car.  The place Walter had found for us was absolutely
charming.  It was a 1 1/2 story stone farm house, that had a
wonderfully open floor plan.  A huge fireplace ran along the
north wall of the living room, where a braided carpet was set
between a couch and two overstuffed armchairs.  I wandered around
the room.  It was tastefully decorated, the lines were rustic and
clean.  

     Walter watched me.  "You like?"  He put the last of the
boxes of supplies on the oak table that stood between the couch
and the kitchen area.
     I took off my coat and draped it over the back of one of the
armchairs.  "Very much," I smiled back at him.  I walked to the
fireplace.  I ran my hand over its wooden mantle.  Natural woods
were a special love of mine and this room was resplendent with
wood.  I noticed a staircase to the left of the front door, it
ran along the wall to the loft above.
     "Bedroom's up there," Walter explained. "Bathroom, too."  He
moved towards me.  "It's a little chilly in here.  I think I'll
start a fire."  
     "You already have," I said as I grabbed him by the lapels of
his open trench coat and pulled him closer to me.  I slipped my
arms around his waist and worked my hands up his back between his
shirt and coat.  Walter's hands were running up and down my own
back.  His touch excited me to the core.  Our kisses became
deeper and more intense.  Months of separation melted away.  I
moved my hands back to his waist and started to work my way up
his sides, to his thick shoulders. Walter had found the zipper on
the back of my dress and was teasing me by opening it and
reclosing it over and over again.  My pulse was racing and I
reached up for his shoulders to take off his coat.  That's when I
felt it.  I recoiled in panic.
     Walter was puzzled by my sudden actions.  I stood there
staring at him. He moved closer, I stepped back.  I took several
quick, shallow breaths.  I trembled, but it had nothing to do
with passion, anymore.  It was fear.
     "What happened?  What's wrong?"  Walter said breathlessly,
confusion in his eyes.
     "Your gun."  I swallowed hard.  I tried to fight the panic
that now swept over me.  "You're still wearing your gun."   I
could feel the tears well up in my eyes.
     "Oh, Jesus.  Beth, I'm sorry," his regret was genuine. 
"With all that was going on this evening, I forgot to take it
off.  I was so worried about being late."  He looked at me with
tender concern.  "I know how you feel about guns.  I'll take it
off, right now.  And I'll put it out of sight."
     I walked to the kitchen.  Turning on the tap at the sink, I
splashed the cool water onto my burning face.  I fought the
nausea that rose in my stomach.  I hated guns.  All guns.
       Images of Danny flashed before my eyes.  He was running
around our backyard in his cowboy outfit.  He was laughing and
singing, "Buffalo Girls."  I sat on my swing and watched as he
pulled out the gun from his toy holster, that hung at his waist. 
This was a new gun that I had never seen before.  His small hands
could barely hold onto it.  Danny keeping running and singing and
waving the gun around.  I was swinging back and forth.  Now in
slow motion, I watched as he ran.  He held the heavy gun close to
his chest, the barrel under his chin.  I watched as my little
brother, now ran towards me.  I watched as he tripped over the
lawn sprinkler and garden hose that wound its was through the
uncut grass.  I watched him fall and then I watched as his head
exploded.

     I doubled up over the sink.  Sobs racked their way through
my body.  Walter was suddenly behind me.  He ran his big hands
soothingly down my back.  "I'm sorry,"  I heard him say over and
over.  He then turned me around so that I faced him.  He pulled
me into his big, protective arms and just stood there and held
me.  I continued to cry, trembling and shaking.  "It was all my
fault," I finally whispered.  
     Walter lifted my chin and held my face tenderly in his
hands.  "You were nine years old.  You were only a child
yourself."
     My father's angry voice rang in my ears. You are the oldest,
he had screamed at me.  It was my duty to protect my brother and
I had failed.  I looked at Walter, tears still streaming down my
cheeks.  "I was the oldest,"  I said, simply.
     Walter just shook his head and pulled me closer to him.  I
buried my face into his shoulder, seeking comfort and love.  I
felt his hands stroke my back and after a few minutes, I started
to calm down.  My breathing eventually returned to normal and I
stopped trembling.  Walter still held me.  He's so wonderful and
understanding, I thought.  I need him so badly.  I moved my head
then and started to kiss his neck.  Walter leaned his face closer
to mine and our mouths found each other.  Our kisses started out
warm and tender, and I could once again feel my desire for him
overtake my senses.  Suddenly I needed to feel his bare skin
against my own.  I reached for his shirt collar and started to
fumble with the buttons.  My need and desire for Walter Skinner
became all consuming.  The buttons on his shirt were not
co-operating, so I slipped my hands into the gap between two of
them and pulled with  a force that ripped the material and sent
the two stubborn buttons flying.
     Walter leaned back and looked at me, "Hey, this is an $80
shirt!"  He grinned slyly.
     I ripped open two more buttons and tugged his shirttail from
his pants.  I looked into his eyes and read the passion that
shone in my own, "I'll buy you a new one," I said as I kissed him
full on the mouth.  Our tongues met and we explored each other's
mouths as we continued to undress each other.  Walter had once
again opened the zipper on the back of my dress.  I felt his
hands on my bare flesh.  I pulled the shirt down from his
shoulders and off his body.  I threw it to the floor and broke
our kiss.  I needed to look at his chest.  It was a glorious
sight.  I leaned closer and flicked my tongue over his nipples. 
I continued to massage his chest with my tongue, lips and mouth,
as my hands moved to his pants.  His belt had remained undone
since our adventure in the car.  I opened the waistband button
and slid down the zipper.  Walter's pants fell to the floor.  He
stepped out of them and lifted my face to his.  He kissed me
hard, then pulled back a bit.  
     "Let's get you out of these clothes," he breathed into my
ear as he kissed my neck.  I let Walter slip my sleeveless dress
off my shoulders and down to my waist.   His mouth was on my
right breast.  I felt his tongue trace the outline of my bosom
above the lace on my bra.  He licked my cleavage and moved to the
other side.  Walter's hand pulled my left breast from its bra cup
and began to suck on my erect nipple.  His hands then moved to my
waist and he eased my crumpled dress and half-slip over my hips. 
Walter ran his hands down my legs.  The touch of his hands on my
bare legs sent chill after chill down my spine.  I remembered
that I had decided not to wear any nylons today because, after a
week in San Tropez, I had a marvellous tan that I wanted to show
off.  Walter's arousal grew as he realized that I was not wearing
stockings.  He worked his right hand up my left leg toward my
inner thigh.  He slipped two fingers beneath the crotch of my
panties and played with my wet pussy, as I stepped from my dress
and slightly parted my legs.  His other hand unhooked my bra and
I helped him pull it from my body. 
     My ample breasts were free and Walter took full advantage of
the fact, as I guided his head towards my right breast where he
again suckled and playful bit my nipple.  I scratched my
fingernails down his back and felt his erection strong beneath
his boxer shorts.  I pulled the left side of his shorts down,
then the right.  His penis sprang forth ready for action and I
wanted it deep inside me.  I leaned back to brace myself on the
kitchen counter.  We were both breathing heavily.  Walter looked
at me, "We should move this to the bedroom," he said hungrily.
     I shook my head.  "Here.....now, " I replied.  "I can't wait
any longer.  I need you inside me."  I breathed deeply.  "I want
you in me now!"
     Walter slid his hands under my buttocks and lifted me up
onto the countertop. The tile was cool beneath my skin. I kicked
off my shoes, as Walter moved closer to me.  He ran his strong
hands up my legs to my waist.  He removed my underpants and
stepped out of his own.  For an instant he just looked at me,
desire on his face. Then he moved forward into my open arms and
eagerly spread my legs.  I slid to the edge of the counter and
helped him enter me.  His thick shaft filled me completely and I
met each of his thrusts with my own.  I reached my hands back
behind me to brace myself where the counter met the wall.  This
pushed my breasts forward even more and Walter's mouth once again
found them.  I could feel his hands grab my ass and try to
support me as I hung from the edge of the counter.
     "Walter, Walter," I moaned over and over again as he pumped
and sucked.   "Yes, yes.  More....."  I let my head hang back in
ecstacy.  I increased the pressure in my arms and locked my
elbows so that I could continue to match his intensity and
strength, without losing my balance, as his throbbing cock
plunged deeper and deeper into me.  Every cell in my body was on
fire. Our thrusts gained in frequency and power.  I began to feel
the orgasm start deep in my uterine walls.  I squeezed my muscles
harder around Walter's probing unit.  Wave after wave of pleasure
washed over me.   It was almost too much for me to bear.  I cried
out his name over and over again, while my whole body shook.  As
the rapture subsided,  I sat straight up.  We rocked back and
forth, arms entwined around each other.  Walter kissed my mouth,
my face, my hair  --  all the while never losing the primal
rhythm of our coupling.  I kissed his face, neck and shoulders,
marvelling at the self-control he possessed.
     Walter was still at full erection inside me.  He moved his
right hand from behind me and forced it between us and searched
with his thumb for my engorged clitoris.  A bolt of electricity
shot through me as he found his mark.  The shock was so intense
that it opened my eyes wide with wonder.  Walter was watching me.
"Just the reaction I was looking for," he grinned.  "We're going
to come together now.  And it's going to be fast and hard."  He
kept tugging me closer every time he plunged deeper into my body. 
"Ready?"
     I could only nod, I was so overwhelmed with the sensations
that were building again within me.  
     Walter's thumb was between our joined bodies once more.  He
vigorously massaged my clitoris and I could feel another wave of
frenzy arise in my soul. I was totally intoxicated with Walter,
his body and what he was doing to me.  Inside, I could feel
Walter's penis grow more solid.  His breathing became rapid and
the color of passion rose in his face.  Our eyes locked onto each
other and we both knew this was it.  With each spasm of his cock,
I felt the strong, warm spurt of his semen.  I wrapped my legs
tighter around him, squeezing every last precious drop from his
organ with the muscles of my womb.  As his cock went limp inside
me, we held onto each other. We kissed again and again, not
wanting the furore, that rocked both of us, to pass.
       "Bethany," Walter breathed my name.  "The things that you
can make me do...."   He smiled sweetly at me and withdrew his
cock from inside me.  He kissed me tenderly and stepped back. 
That's when I started to laugh.  
     "You're a magnificent sight, Assistant Director Skinner," I
said with all sincerity.  "Great birthday suit.  I especially
like your argyle socks and sensible dress shoes."
     Walter knit his eyebrows, perplexed by my words.  I pointed
to the floor.  He glanced down.  He saw what I saw, that he still
had his socks and shoes on.  He roared with laughter and looked
back at me.  "Dress for success, I always say," his warm brown
eyes shone with joy.  He moved towards me and I jumped down from
the countertop.  We kissed again.
     "Meet you upstairs," he said with a devilish smirk.  "The
weekend's just begun."



*****************************************************************
(End of Part One)


From  Tue Jan 14 13:10:49 1997
                    IRONIC
                    (Part Two)



The Four Poster Bed


     I looked at myself in the mirror, over the bathroom sink. 
Not bad for 38, I concluded.  My body was still firm and my face
was youthful.  In fact, most people were surprised at my true
age, many thought I was just barely 30.  I ran my brush through
my dark hair.  I winked at my reflection.  I knew what kept me so
young.  It was Walter Skinner and these encounters that we shared
whenever time allowed.  
     "Do you ever plan on coming out of there?," he called
anxiously from the other side of the door.
     "Be right out," I answered.  My cheeks were still flushed
from our lovemaking in the kitchen, not fifteen minutes before.
     "I'm getting lone......leeeeeee,"  Walter called again.  He
couldn't wait to be with me again, as much as I couldn't wait to
be with him.  It had always been that way between us, since that
first night ten years ago.  Primal lust.  Animal passion.  Call
it what you will.  Whenever we were in the same room together, we
just could not keep our hands off each other.  It was that basic. 
That instinctual.  That complicated.  That simple.
     I opened the bathroom door and switched off the light.  The
loft was aglow with soft light from the candles that Walter had
placed around the room.  It greatly enhanced the already romantic
atmosphere.  Walter was in the king-sized four poster bed that
dominated the room.  He sat propped up against several thick
pillows and had the heavy goose down comforter draped lazily
across his lower stomach.  I just stood and stared, committing to
memory the sight of him, for those many months ahead, when
memories of him would be all I had to sustain me.
     Walter smiled at me, "Hey, sexy.  Come to bed."  The want
and desire was unmistakable in his voice.  He threw back the
comforter and patted the mattress beside him.
     I hurried across the oak floor and climbed into the big bed. 
I snuggled in beside him, and pulled up the quilt.  Walter looked
deep into my eyes and ran his fingers through my hair.  "Happy
Tenth," he said and kissed me with such tenderness and passion,
that I swear he made my toes curl.
     "It's hard to believe it's been that long," I said as I put
my head on his shoulder.  "Where has all the time gone?"  I moved
closer to him and he put his strong arms around me.
     "There have been a couple of things to measure the years
by," Walter continued.  "Our advancing careers, for one.  The
loss of my hair, for two."
     I looked at him.  "To me, you look better every time I see
you.  Hair or no hair.  In fact, I really do believe that you are
sexier now.   You are one buff piece of masculinity, Walter
Skinner," I said as I kissed his neck.   "You simply intoxicate
me.  Besides, isn't there some proven biological link between
baldness and virility?"  I winked at him.
     "Well, well."  He grinned. "Does this mean that you are
ready for more?"  
     I sat up in the bed and turned my body towards him.  I took
his face in my hands.  I kissed the top of his head, his
forehead, the tip of his nose.   His hands stroked my back, then
he pulled my mouth to his.  The kisses we shared were intense.  I
leaned back from him to catch my breath, and kissed the open palm
of his right hand, that so lovingly caressed my cheek.  Walter
looked at me.  
     "Close your eyes, Beth.  Close your eyes and lie down on
your stomach."  His request fascinated me.  "I have a surprise
for you and I promise you will not be disappointed," he added.
     I was intrigued.  But I did not move.  Just what did he have
in mind?
     "Please, Beth.  You know you can trust me."  His voice was
soft and low.
     With a backward glance at him, I scooted down in the bed and
rolled over onto my stomach.  "I have to close my eyes?" I
questioned.
     "If you don't, you'll spoil the surprise," Walter answered.
     I folded my arms beneath my head and turning my face away
from him, I laid down and closed my eyes.  Anticipation rose in
me as I waited for whatever Walter had planned.
     "Now you have to promise not to peek," he explained as I
felt him move about on the bed beside me. "Oh, and you can only
speak when spoken to."  He leaned over and kissed my right ear.
     "Can I moan?"  I asked with mock annoyance.
     "Only with pleasure," he quickly retorted.  "Now, quiet
please.  The master is about to begin."
     I lie silently.  From the way the mattress was moving
beneath me, I knew Walter was adjusting the position of his own
body.  I heard paper crumble and moved my head towards the sound.
     "Lie still," Walter ordered.
     I tried to obey.  But this was torture.  He knows how
curious I am.  What was he planning?
     He touched me, then.  His hands were on my waist.  He
playfully walked his fingers to the middle of my back and
followed my spine up to my neck.  From there, his technique
changed.  He ran his open hands across my shoulders in circular
motions that made me tingle.  I heard the crinkle of paper again,
and then felt the lightest brush of something against my skin. 
It was soft and pliable.  What was he using?  There was no sight,
no sound, no odor to help me identify what now traced its way to
my lower back.  Just my sense of touch.  Each nerve ending that
it past, was ignited.  I could feel the thrill that passed
through me and made me shutter.  
     "Does this feel good?"  Walter's voice was husky.
     "Hmmmmmmm," I responded.   I needed no words.
     Walter moved the mysterious instrument of pleasure onto my
buttocks.  I quivered as he drew tiny concentric circles all over
my butt cheeks.  I lost all track of time.  I was lost in an
erotic haze.  
     After what seemed like an eternity, Walter asked, "Shall I
continue?"
     "Please........."  I begged.  I had never experienced
anything like this before.  I never wanted it to stop.
     The item now left my buttocks and was suddenly tickling the
bottoms of my bare feet.  I giggled and tried to lie still, not
wanting to miss any of the contact that was so enticing.  I was
awash with sensations that left me breathless and wanting more. 
I felt my butt muscles tense and knew I was on verge of one of
the most extreme orgasms that I had ever experienced.  The light
brush-like touch travelled back up my legs, stopping to tease the
ultra sensitive area behind my knees.  I could feel the juices
flow from my cunt lips, as he guided the implement up the back of
my inner thighs.  I moaned with delight and began to rotate my
hips.  I could no longer ignore the orgasm that now coursed
through me.  I exploded in a frenzy that I had not thought
possible, as Walter expertly dragged the soft device back and
forth along the crevice of my butt crack between my clenched
cheeks.  I screamed, moaned and groaned, over and over again. 
The pleasure was overwhelming.  I lifted my head but kept my eyes
tightly shut.  I grabbed handfuls of the sheets and rode the
flood of carnal arousal that conquered my senses.  I could not
see, I could not speak.  After several moments, I collapsed.  I
was totally spent.  All I could manage to do was breathe.
     Walter laid down beside me.  He gently massaged my back.  "I
take it from that last outburst, you sort of enjoyed yourself,"
he teased.
      It was all I could do to turn my head to face him.  I was
totally exhausted.  I still found it hard to focus.  "What was
that?" my voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.  "What did you
use?"
     "You couldn't tell?" he seemed surprised, but pleased with
himself at the same time.
     "I have to know."  I struggled to prop my head on my hands,
but the muscles in my arms were still like jelly.  I laid back
down and rolled over onto my right side to face him.  "Tell me,
damn it."  I tried to sound forceful, but I was as weak as a
lamb.
     Walter reached over and pinched the erect nipple on my left
breast, "Maybe later."  He rolled onto his left side and took my
ravished body into his arms.  "It's almost 2 am.  We better get
some sleep."  He kissed me and said with a wicked little laugh,
"I have a full day planned for us tomorrow.   You're going to
need plenty of rest."



*****************************************************************



The Morning Workout


     I awoke to the sound of the summer songbirds and the smell
of fresh brewed coffee.  As I regained my senses, memories of the
night before flashed through my mind.  I smiled and realized that
I was completely content.   I reached for Walter's body, but he
wasn't there.  I opened my eyes and found that the room was
bright with the morning sunshine.  I moved over to Walter's side
of the bed and that's when I saw his head with his hands laced
behind, pop up over the edge of the mattress and then disappear. 
I propped my right hand under my head and looked again.  Walter's
head came into view once more.
     This time he smiled at me."Good morning," he said then
vanished.
     For a moment I thought I was dreaming, then I understood. 
He was doing sit-ups with his feet tucked under the bed for
support.  He was in the middle of his morning exercise routine.
     I loved watching him workout.  I moved to the edge of the
bed and watched as he pulled himself up.  "What time is it?" I
asked as I watched him go up and down.
     "It's almost 8 am,"  he answered.  "Coffee's on the
nightstand."  He continued with the exercise.  
     I sat up against the pillows.  I clutched the comforter to
my neck and reached for my mug of coffee.  I continued to watch
Walter go up and down as he did his sit-ups.  He had on a pair of
navy sweatpants, with the FBI crest sown on the right front
pocket.  He did not wear a shirt.  I sipped my coffee and watched
the muscles in his shoulders and his stomach clench and relax. 
Back and forth he went, up and down.  I smiled.  I could do this
forever, I thought. Walter now changed the rhythm of the sit-ups. 
When he sat up, he touched each knee with the opposite elbow,
then went back down again.  I knew he usually did each variation
of the exercise atleast 100 times.  I settled in for a wonderful
show.  
     Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his chest and
shoulders.  The muscles on his arms glistened as he continued to
go up and down, and back and forth to opposite knees.  He had
remarkable energy for so early in the morning, especially after
last night.  My eyes followed his every movement.  Every once in
a while he'd forget about concentrating on the exercise and he
would smile at me.  We were silent for several minutes.  Both of
us totally focused on the task at hand.  Walter engrossed in his
exercises.  Me engrossed in him.
     The sound of his voice broke my reverie.  "Sorry.  What did
you say?"  I asked.
     He continued with his sit-ups.  "I just wondered why you
always cover yourself up in the morning?"
     "What do you mean?"  I followed his gaze to the comforter
tucked up under my chin. "Oh." I didn't know what else to say.
     "Give the poor things some air, will you Beth?  They're
suffocating under there."  His eyes shone with an almost
childlike glee.  He stared at me, a boyish grin frozen on his
face.  He arched his eyebrows.  
     I reached over and returned my empty coffee mug to the
nightstand.  I watched him, watch me as he went up and down.  I
smiled sweetly back at him.  We watched each other for a while
longer, then I threw the quilt from my body.  "Is that better?" 
I said, as I was totally exposed.  
     "Much.  Thank you," Walter said.  He began to leer
suggestively at me, as he kept up with his exercises.
      I could feel his eyes all over me.  I tried to stare back
at him, but all that accomplished was that I started to blush.  I
did not want him to know how uncomfortable I felt.  I knew it was
silly to feel that way.  I mean only last night, I had demanded
that we make love on the kitchen countertop, for heaven sakes. 
Now, I was behaving like some little virgin schoolgirl, almost
ashamed of the explicit lust that shone in Walter's eyes when he
looked at my body.  I didn't know where to look anymore or what
to do.  I felt foolish, sitting in bed totally nude, alone.  I
sat there for what seemed like several minutes, silently waiting,
looking at nothing and everything, but him.
     "You have a beautiful body, Bethany," Walter finally said. 
"You shouldn't be so bashful about showing it.  Especially to
me."
     I glanced down at him.  He had stopped his exercising.  He
stood up and grabbed the towel that was on the foot of the bed. 
He rubbed the towel over his sweaty chest and arms, all the while
staring at me.  He stepped to the side of the bed where I sat and
touched my cheek.  I looked at him.  I wanted him.  I could see
he wanted me.  He threw the towel towards the bathroom door and
then dived into bed, landing beside me.
     We kissed slowly, and held each other close.  I rolled over
so that I was on top of him.  Walter grabbed my butt cheeks and
squeezed.  I kissed his neck and chest.  I relished the salty
taste of his sweaty skin.  I eagerly licked the beads of sweat
that were clinging to his chest hairs around his nipples.  I
could feel the bulge of his penis grow beneath me.  I ground my
hips into his.  Walter moaned.  We kissed again.  His cock
increased in size.
     "Is it too uncomfortable for you?  I asked, "Do you want me
to move?"
     "God....no."  Walter shook his head, "Just stay where you
are."  We kissed again.
     Walter's strong hands were all over my back and kneading my
buttocks.  I rubbed my face once more into his chest.  I kissed
his muscular pecs and sucked at his nipples.  I moved my kisses
down his furry front to his flat stomach.  On his right side, was
a area were the skin was red and pulled.  It was the scar from
the shooting earlier this year.  I lifted my head to look at him. 
Walter studied my face.  I could tell that he wasn't sure how I'd
react.  I remained in control.  I cleared the lump that was
developing in my throat and asked, "Is it painful?"  I was
remarkably calm.
     Walter smiled at me.  I knew he was proud of the fact that I
did not give into my initial panic. "Not anymore.  But at first,
it hurt like the dickens.  And while it was healing, I thought it
would never stop itching."
     "I can only image," I replied.  I leaned over the scar and
gently kissed the area.  I planted nearly a dozen kisses on the
puckered skin.  
     "There is something else that would like special attention,"
Walter said.  He lifted his hips and pulled his sweatpants down
to his knees.  I tugged them further down his legs and over his
bare feet.  I looked back at him.  He was now totally nude, in
the same place that only moments before I had been.  Now it was
my turn to appreciate his beauty. 
      Walter Skinner's body reminded me of the marble statues
that I had seen in Europe.  Each muscle, from his chest and
shoulders to his arms and legs, was chiselled and shaped to
perfection.  But this was not some work of art that was out of
reach.  Walter was a man made of flesh and blood.  A man who
craved my touch as much as I needed to touch him.
      Walter folded his arms under his head.  "What are you
doing?"
     "Just admiring the view," I told him and raised my eyebrows. 
Then I got a brilliant idea.
     "That's all fine and good, Beth," he replied.  "But there is
a certain little member of this mutual admiration society that
will disappear soon if he's ignored much longer."
     I looked down.  His penis was almost standing perpendicular
to the rest of his body.  It had swollen greatly in size and
deepened in color.  Men really do exaggerate sometimes, I
thought.
     "Looks pretty healthy to me, for something that's so
neglected."  I sat on my haunches.  I moved no closer. 
     "Beth...."  Walter started, then stopped.  The expression on
his face changed as he realized what I was up to.  "This is
blackmail."
     "Actually it's extortion, but let's not argue semantics."  I
breathed deeply.  "It's very simple really," I continued.  "Tell
me what I want to know and I'll do what you want me to do."  I
grinned.  
     Walter made a face but he knew that he was defeated.  Still
he said nothing.
     "May I remind you, time is of the essence," I stated.
     Walter exhaled and shook his head, "It was a feather."
     "A feather," I repeated his words.  "A simple, ordinary
feather?"  I couldn't believe it.
     "Not an ordinary feather," Walter explained.  "It was a
peacock feather."
     "Really?"  I smiled as I recalled the pleasure it had given
me in Walter's knowledgeable hands.
     "Yes, now a deal is a deal, Beth."  He smirked. "Besides,
you know you want to."
     I could not argue with the man when we both knew he was
right.  I bent my head down and playfully flicked my tongue over
the tip of his penis.  Walter's cock bobbed and weaved, yet
remained erect. I smiled back at him.  Walter nodded his head and
urged me on.  I leaned over again and this time I ran my tongue
from the base of his rod to the tip.  I repeated this procedure
without touching his big cock with my hands.  With every stroke
of my tongue, his penis throbbed and Walter's groans of pleasure
grew deeper.
     "Suck it...Beth put it in your mouth," Walter pleaded.
     I needed no further urging.  I grabbed his shaft and opened
my mouth wide to take in all of his maleness.  I could feel the
tip of Walter's penis brush against the back of my throat.  The
taste was tart and salty, and it triggered something primal in
me.  Lapping and savoring the pre-cum that seeped from his
pulsating column, I sucked greedily.  I was determined to give
Walter the same pleasure that I had felt in this very bed, the
night before.  Walter moaned and I glanced up at him.  His eyes
were half closed, and a look of perfect bliss was on his face.  I
sucked on his cock with a greater strength, using my throat
muscles to squeeze and massage it.  Walter had amazing
self-control and we worked together to prolong the session that
neither of us wanted to end.
     Walter moaned my name and moved his hips as he pumped his
big tool into my mouth.  It wasn't long after I recognized the
familiar movements that told me he was ready to ejaculate.  I
steadied myself for the first strong burst of his semen.  Even
though I was prepared, the force with which the thick stream shot
deep into my throat, almost made me gag.  I swallowed rapidly and
soon we were in sync.  I drank in all that he could give me and
as his organ withered in my mouth I continued to suck, until I
had swallowed every last drop.
     I lifted my head and wiped the saliva and semen from the
outside of my mouth with the back of my hand.  Walter still laid
on the bed, his eyes closed.  I crawled up to lie beside him.  He
reached for me and held me close. 
     "That was definitely worth it." He leaned over and kissed my
forehead.  "Thank you."
     "Anytime."  I snuggled closer and laid my head on his chest. 
Suddenly I was starving.  "Any chance of breakfast?"
     "No breakfast, today," he answered.
     "But I'm starving," I looked up at him.
     Walter smiled.  "I've got a great picnic lunch packed and
waiting downstairs," he said.  He kissed my lips tenderly and
slapped me on the butt.  "Now get into that shower, we have a
long hike ahead of us."



*****************************************************************
(End of Part Two)


From  Tue Jan 14 13:11:42 1997
                    IRONIC
                    (Part Three)
          


The Hike


     With powerful hands, Walter helped me up the steep slope.  I
had already slipped twice during the climb and was getting a bit
weary.  I watched as he proceeded further up the hill, his
muscular legs making light of the fact that an uneven surface and
gravity were working against him every step of the way.
     "Almost there," he called to me over his shoulder.  "Come on
city girl, you can do it."
     I took a deep breath and started to follow.  I hated it when
he called me "city girl".  Every step I took seemed worse than
the one before.  The pack on my back was pulling me off balance
and I felt that I would fall at any moment.  I looked up to see
that Walter was about 15 feet ahead of me, off to the right. 
Mercifully he had stopped, and was removing his backpack.  That
must be the spot where we will be having lunch.  Thank God, it's
close.  I steadied myself the best that I could and continued to
climb.
      The dirt path beneath my feet did not provide secure
footing and I had to constantly grab at the soil, and whatever
plant life that was within reach, to keep from tumbling
backwards.  I looked up at Walter.  He waved me on, smiling at my
struggle. What happened to our lovely walk in the countryside, I
thought as I tentatively started to scale the last ten feet of
hillside that separated us.
     "You're getting soft, Rhys," Walter's voice taunted me from
above.  "Time was when you would have raced me up here.  Guess
that cushy job at the embassy in Paris allowed you to indulge in
too many pastries on the Champs d'Elysee."
     I could feel the color rise in my face.  I knew what he was
doing.  He thought by teasing me, he'd get me angry and then I'd
climb on, just to prove that I could do it. I stopped to look
down.  I was tired and famished.  Whatever energy I had when I
awoke this morning was now spent after a three mile hike and this
climb.  I looked out over the countryside,  I could not see the
roof of our farmhouse in the distance anymore.  All I could see
was the tops of the trees.  We must be atleast 200 feet up. 
Walter had promised me a view with my meal, but this was getting
ridiculous.  I longed to be in the little stone farmhouse, safely
seated at the oak table.  The only view I needed to whet my
appetite was Walter Skinner beside me.  "Tell me again, why we're
doing this?" I shouted.
     "Because we can!"  He quickly answered.
     His voice was so jubilant that I had to laugh.  I pulled
myself up another five feet, and Walter reached down to help me
up the rest of the way.  I straightened my back to extend my
right arm to him, when my left foot flew out from under me.  I
pitched forward hitting my chin and right knee on the hard
surface, as I began to slide backwards down the hill.  In less
than a second, I was into a full tumble, the sound of Walter's
voice, calling my name, ringing in my ears.  I desperately tried
to grab onto anything and everything to stop my fall.  Finally I
came to rest on my back, in a small cluster of shrubs, some
twelve feet down the hill from where I had been only seconds
before.
     I didn't move.  I hurt everywhere.  I tried to catch my
breath.  I could taste blood in my mouth from where I had bitten
my tongue, when my chin hit the hard slope.   
     "Beth," Walter was beside me.  "Beth, talk to me! 
Bethany...."
     I opened my eyes and stared at him, "Are we having fun,
yet?" I said as I swallowed another mouthful of saliva and blood. 
For an instant, there were two of him, looking at me.  I closed
my eyes again and tried to find secure footing.
     "Don't move."  Walter circled to my left, fighting gravity
to maintain his stance.  "Is anything broken?  Are you seriously
hurt?"  His voice was full of concern, with a touch of panic.
     "Only my pride," I said.  I opened my eyes again and my
vision had cleared.  Walter was running his hands up and down my
legs, checking to see if I had any broken bones.  He then moved
to my arms and repeated the same procedure.  I knew I was fine
and just wanted to get upright again.  I felt disoriented.  "Now
I know how a beetle feels,"  I stated.  "Help me up, okay?"  I
reached for him and he lifted me up tenderly and held me in his
strong arms.
     "I'm sorry, Beth.  I shouldn't have pushed you into this
climb.  Are you sure you're okay?" He held me tightly.  I was
beginning to develop a headache and there was still a slight
taste of blood in my mouth.
     "I bit my tongue,"  I said simply.  I looked up at him.  Did
I see tears in his eyes?  "I'm all right, Walter, really."  I
paused, "I'm just a little stiff and shaken."
     "Are you sure?" He took my face into his hands, his deep
brown eyes full of worry.
     "I'm fine," I answered again and removed myself from his
grasp.  I turned to start up the hill once more.  My legs were
sore and shaky, but I was suddenly determined to make the climb. 
This time I would chose my own path.  I could not let this
hillside in Virginia defeat me.  It was amazing what this man
could make me want do.
     "Where are you going?" Walter asked as he watched me in
disbelief.
     "I'm starving," I said as I reached for a tuft of grass to
help pull me up the hillside. "And you promised me a picnic lunch
with a great view."  I looked at him over my shoulder.  "This
time you follow me."



*****************************************************************





The Picnic



     Walter helped me remove the pack from my back.  The climb up
had definitely been worth it, fall and all.  The view of the
surrounding countryside was spectacular.  Walter spread the
blanket from my pack on the ground and helped me get comfortable. 
We were seated on a vast natural shelf that was not visible from
the ground below.  It allowed us the perfect place to stop and
enjoy the splendor of the panoramic valley displayed before us.
     Walter was unusually quiet.  His face was still troubled, as
he set out the lunch, that he had packed for us.  I had reassured
him numerous times that I was fine, yet he didn't quite believe
me.  I had to do something.  I knew Walter would be beating
himself up all day, because he felt responsible for what had
happened to me.  I did not want my little spill to ruin the rest
of the afternoon, for either of us.
     "It's a good thing that you carried all the breakables up
here," I smiled.  "Otherwise...."
     "Don't joke about it, Beth."  His voice was stern. "You
could have been seriously hurt or worse."  He continued to
unpack. 
     "Walter.  Walter, look at me,"  I touched his shoulder. 
"I'm fine, really.  Sure I'll have a few bruises and I won't be
able to run the mile for some time.  But, I'm okay."
I reached for his chin and turned his face to mine.  I smiled
again.
     Walter placed the bottle of wine he held, down on the
blanket between us. "I was so scared when I saw you fall," he
said as he stared at me.  "I thought I'd lost you.  I don't ever
want to lose you, Beth."  I could not mistake the sincerity in
his voice.
     I ran my hand down his cheek.  I raised my eyebrows, "Kiss
me and make it all better."
     He held me tenderly in his arms as we kissed long and slow. 
I could feel the tension leave his body.  I put my head on his
shoulder, savoring the closeness.  
     "This view really is remarkable," I said.  Then suddenly I
couldn't resist the temptation any longer.  I just had to ask the
question that had been burning inside me from the moment that he
had mentioned going to Virginia.  "So how many other women have
you brought out here anyway?"
     Walter looked at me. My frank question from left field had
definitely surprised him.  We both knew our relationship was not
exclusive, but neither one of us had ever asked the other about
it before.  In the ten years that we had been lovers, the topic
was understood to be off limits. We never had discussed how to
handle the subject of our lives when the other was not around. 
We both just naturally fell into an ideal of silence.  We talked
about work, careers, politics, anything but the other people that
we had met and sometimes wanted and slept with.  I knew I had
started a conversation about something that I might regret
hearing.  But after ten years, if we couldn't discuss this now,
we never would.  Avoidance, I decided was not the best policy for
me anymore.
     "It's a simple question,"  I continued.  "Two? Four? One
hundred and twenty? If you're having trouble coming up with an
exact number, a ballpark figure will do."
     "Where is all this coming from?" Walter's voice was serious. 
He gazed at me, wondering.  "Don't tell me that after all this
time you, Bethany Rhys, are going to get all territorial on me
now."  
     I couldn't read his face.  I didn't know if he was deadly
earnest or if he was joking around.  It bothered me, not knowing
what he was thinking.  I stared back at him.  What did I want? 
Did I want him to be brutally honest?  Did I want to know that
other women or even one other woman made him feel the way I made
him feel?  I couldn't even put my finger on the reason why I was
doing this, here and now, after all this time.  But I was, and it
was something that I couldn't stop.  Suddenly it became very
important to me to know if I was more to Walter Skinner than a
sexual encounter, two or three times a year.  I needed
desperately to know that I was more to him than just that.
     "I don't expect you to be a monk when I'm not here," I
began.  "It's just that you really threw me with this trip to the
countryside.  I mean, every other time.....my hotel was fine, or
your place.  Stop me if I'm wrong, but you were very insistent
about us coming here.  Why?"  I breathed deeply.  "You even had
my suitcases in your car when you came to pick me up at
Charley's.  Is this really just a special tenth anniversary
surprise that you came up with at the last minute?  Or is it...."
I stopped and looked at him.  Walter swallowed hard and he wore
the most solemn expression on his face, but his eyes flashed with
anxiety.  He looked down at the blanket, unable to face me.
     "Don't go there, Beth," he whispered.  "Please, let's just
eat and enjoy the afternoon."  He handed me a paper plate and
started to open the containers of food.
     I watched silently as he worked, trying to concentrate on
anything but looking at me.  Something was very wrong here. 
Walter was not behaving like himself, at all.  I thought back on
all that happened before we arrived at the farmhouse.  First, he
had been late. Second, he was all flushed when he finally had
arrived to meet me.  Third, we left Charley's so quickly that he
didn't even have a drink, and we drove straight here.  His gun
was the last clue.  He had worn his gun, even though he knew how
I felt about it.  I came to the conclusion that he hadn't just
forgot to take it off, after all. 
     I turned my head and saw that his backpack was to my right. 
I reached for it.  Before Walter could stop me, I unzipped the
small outer compartment.  His gun fell out onto the plaid blanket
by my side.
     I stared at the weapon and then I stared at him. 
Instantaneous fury swept through me.  "We had to leave D.C.,
didn't we?  You wanted us out of town."
     Walter looked at me.  He couldn't hide the fact that I was
right from his eyes.  He breathed deeply.  "I needed to get us
some place safe," he said simply.
     "What the hell is going on?" I was angry.  Angrier than I
had ever been in my life.
     Walter glanced at the blanket. He picked up his gun and
returned it to his pack.  "I should have known better than to try
to pull this off.  Your instincts are too good." He sat back and
closed his eyes.  "You'd make a hell of a Special Agent, Beth."
     "Get back on topic, Walter."  It was my turn to be stern. 
"What's all this about?"
     Walter looked at me.  "It's a long story."  He reached for
the bottle of wine between us and began to unwrapped the foil
around its neck.  "Pass me the corkscrew,  I think we both could
use a drink."
     I handed it to him and found two plastic glasses, as Walter
opened the bottle of chablis.  "Well," I urged him on, "we do
have all afternoon."  I held out the glasses in front of me.
     Walter filled them both to the brim, and put the opened
bottle between his knees.  I gave him his glass and settled back
to listen.  He took a sip or two of wine, then said, "Three days
ago, I was notified that a certain rogue agent wanted to turn
himself in.  He was tired of running and he was scared.  He said
that he'd only trust me.  It was imperative that this agent be
brought home.  He knew too much about certain factions that we
wanted stopped or atleast controlled.  For days, he had me
running all over the District on dry runs to prove I was
trustworthy, I guess.  Anyway, finally we arranged to meet at 3
pm, yesterday afternoon."
     "That's when my flight arrived," I interjected.
     Walter nodded, "Exactly.  That was why I wasn't at Dulles to
meet you.  Anyway, this guy was really panicked by that time and
I knew that I'd couldn't bring him in alone.  Already a certain
member of the faction that the agent once worked for, let me
know, that he knew, something was up."  Walter drained his glass
and refilled it. "I realized then that I needed help if I was to
get this agent over to our side, where he'd atleast be safe.  So
I called on two of my subordinates, two agents that I trust
completely.  The three of us set up a plan to bring this man in. 
I don't know how, but everything possible that could go wrong,
did." 
      Walter picked up the loaf of bread he brought and cut off a
slice.  He tossed it to me.  "You better eat.  There's pate and
vegetables in the containers to your left."  He cut a few more
slices of bread and then reached for his own plate.  He dished
out a serving of potato salad, then handed me the container.
     I really wanted to hear more of the story, but as my anger
subsided, I remembered that I hadn't eaten since yesterday when I
was at Orly, waiting for my flight to D.C.  I realized that I was
starving again.  I took the potato salad eagerly and then filled
my plate with a generous amount of pate, and passed it to Walter. 
I spilled half the container of raw vegetables onto my plate, as
well, and set the rest next to him.
     "Go on," I said as I picked up a plastic fork and started to
eat.

     "Like I said, everything that could have gone wrong, did."
Walter continued.  "The man did not appreciate me bringing along
any help.  Even after I told him that our smoking friend was on
to us.  He still wouldn't co-operate.  He would not get into the
car with the agents that I trusted.  I knew that he and Mulder,
one of the agents I had with me, hated each other;  but I didn't
think what happened would happen.  The more Alex Krycek hemmed
and hawed about the deal, the more impatient Mulder got. 
Finally, Mulder went ballistic.  He pulled his gun on Krycek. 
Krycek pulled his gun.  Scully and I stood there.  We were
helpless, caught in the middle of a Mexican standoff.  Mulder and
Krycek were screaming at each other.  And then all of a sudden,
Krycek was shot in the shoulder from behind.  We all dove for
cover."  Walter stopped and began to eat a bit.
     "The shooter was from the other faction," I added and poured
more wine for both of us.  I fought my instant panic as Walter
described the gun play that ensued.
     Walter sighed, "I could have sworn we weren't followed,
but..."
     "Perhaps, one to the two agents you went to for help --" I
began.
     "No way,"  Walter interrupted me mid-sentence.  "Mulder and
Scully are definitely beyond reproach.  I trust them with my
life.  More importantly, I trust them with your life, Beth." 
Walter's expression was deadly serious.
     I swallowed my mouthful of half-chewed food. "My life!  What
do I have to do with all this?"  My mouth was suddenly dry with
fear.
     "They know about you, Beth.  The faction and Krycek, I don't
know how, but they know about you."    
     I put my plate down on the plaid blanket far from me.  I no
longer was hungry. I looked up at Walter, I knew he read the fear
in my eyes.
     "I promise nothing will happen to you," Walter tried to
reassure me.  "That's why we came here.  Scully suggested the
farmhouse.  It belongs to a relative of her mother's."
     "Why threaten me?  I don't know these people."  I was trying
to come to some logical understanding of all Walter had told me.  
"You know who this smoking man is and you have this Agent Krycek. 
Walter, I don't understand.  Why are we here?  Why are we still
in danger?"  I wanted him to help me put the pieces together, to
help me see what he saw.
     "We had Krycek. We took him to a hospital after the
shooting.  He blamed me, said that I'd set him up.  He swore he'd
make me pay and he said that he knew exactly how, if he got the
chance." Walter paused.  He lifted my bruised chin and looked
into my eyes, "He escaped from the emergency room at the
hospital.  He phoned me later that evening, just as I was going
to meet you at Charley's.  All he said was the name of your hotel
and the room number."
     I closed my eyes.  I could feel the fear rise in my stomach. 
Walter put his arms around me and held me close.  He continued to
explain.  "I sent Mulder to Charley's to find you.  Scully and I
went to your hotel just in case you hadn't left yet.   When we
got to your room, I knew that you already had a visitor.  The
cigarette smoke hit us when we opened the door.  I thought that
black-lunged sonofabitch had you.  That he would use you to force
me to handover Krycek.  And I didn't have Krycek anymore." Walter
held me tighter.  "I thought you were as good as dead, Beth.  And
it was all my fault.  But then Mulder phoned. He was at Charley's
and he told me you were safe and waiting for me."  Walter
chuckled at the memory of the conversation, "He told me you
looked pretty pissed off, too.  Like you were ready to walk out
at any moment, because you were tired of waiting so long."
     "I don't remember noticing anyone watching me." I held onto
Walter tightly.
     "You weren't supposed to.  Mulder was only to approach you
if you started to leave."  Walter paused and ran his hands
soothingly through my hair.  "I knew that your hotel was no
longer safe.  My place was definitely out of the question as
well.  That's when Scully told me about the farmhouse.  We packed
up your things as fast as we could and while I raced over to the
bar to get you.  Scully went to the market and got the supplies
we'd need for the next few days.  She stowed them in my car just
before we got there.  We walked by her actually.  She was in her
car, parked a few car lengths behind us."
     "They're out there now, Mulder and Scully, aren't they? 
That's why we hiked up here, isn't it?  Are you going to signal
them or something?  Or are they going to signal you?"  I leaned
back from Walter's shoulder and looked at him.
     "You sure you're not an international spy?  You're pretty
good at figuring this out." He tried a small, shy smile, but
sobered his expression when I did not respond.  "Cellular phone
call, actually.  I'm to phone them in ten minutes to let them
know we're fine.  I came up here because Scully told me about the
hill and this way if someone's triangulating the call, they'd
atleast be off by a few miles. There are a lot of places in the
valley, they'd have to search before they found us."
     I sat silently, holding on to Walter for dear life.  The
entire scenario sounded like some bad movie.  Yet it was real. 
We were in danger.  We both remained silent for a few minutes,
just holding each other.
     "I'm sorry, Beth," Walter said regretfully.  "I should have
sent you back to France on the next flight out.  I shouldn't have
put you in danger.  But I was selfish.  I wanted to see you.  I
needed to see you.  It had been months since I last held you.  I
just couldn't let you go back that fast, without being with you
again.  Without making love with you again."  Walter leaned down
and kissed my forehead.  
     I raised my head and our mouths found each other.  We kissed
passionately.
     "I'm glad you didn't send me away," I finally said.  "I'd
rather be here with you, even under these circumstances."  At
this moment I really meant what I had said, and it surprised me. 
"Besides, nothing bad is going to happen to either of us.  I just
know --"
     The ringing of Walter's cell phone interrupted my words. 
Walter reached for his backpack and pulled the pealing instrument
from it. "Something must have happened," he said.  "I was to call
them."  He kept his arm around me as he answered the call.

     "Skinner."  He paused and listened.  I watched him closely. 
Little by little, a smile began to appear on his lips.  Finally
he looked at me and I could see the relief on his face.  "You're
sure about that, Scully.  It's definitely Krycek."  He was quiet
again, listening intently.  "I'd appreciate that, if you and
Mulder could go personally to Baltimore and check it out."  He
paused again, "No, no, we're fine.  Beth figured everything out. 
She's been a rock really."  He leaned over and kissed the tip of
my nose. "Call me later, once you've seen him.  Right.  And
Scully, thank you.  Thank you both."  
     Walter disconnected the call and sighed.  "They've found
Krycek.  He's in Baltimore.  Mulder and Scully are going there
now."
     "Then it's over.  The danger, I mean?"  I couldn't breathe,
I was waiting for him to answer.
     "I think so.  The Baltimore PD have a wounded man in custody
who matches Krycek's description.  Our smoking friend must know
that by now, too.  Since it's Krycek he really wants ..."  He
smiled at me.  "Guess we can get back to enjoying our time
together."  He leaned over to kiss me, but I pulled back.
     "Later.  Suddenly I'm starving again," I said as I reached
for my abandoned plate.  "What else did you bring to eat?"  I
found the loaf of bread and ripped off a piece.
     "Not so fast," Walter said and grabbed my ankles.  With one
swift pull, I was lying flat on my back; my plate of food landed
behind me somewhere on the ledge.  Walter was on top of me.  He
kissed me hard. "I'm starving, too, Beth.  But not for food."
     "Oh..." I managed to say through a mouthful of bread. 
Walter began to kiss my neck. I closed my eyes.  I loved the feel
of his strong body against mine.  "More," I breathed, "I want
more."  I tossed the piece of the bread I held in my hand, over
the ledge.
     I swallowed my food and Walter returned to kiss my mouth. 
As the intensity of our kisses increased, Walter's hands were
busy, he pulled open the snaps on my denim shirt.  He found the
front hook on my bra and freed my breasts.  
     "Your skin is so soft,"  Walter moaned between kisses.  "I
always forget how soft your skin feels."  He ran his big hands
over my exposed flesh.  He moved his lips down my neck once more. 
He kneaded my breasts and pinched their erect nipples.  Small
electric shocks travelled up and down my spine.  I moved his head
gently toward my left breast.  Walter's eager mouth needed no
more encouragement.  He playfully tugged and sucked at my breast,
while his hand massaged my right one.  Each movement of his lips
and tongue excited me.  I could feel my cunt juices begin to seep
onto my panties.  I moved my hips upward to rub against his.
     He looked at me and smiled.  "Where's the rest of that
wine?" he said as he surveyed our immediate surroundings.  He
found the bottle quickly and looking through the glass announced,
"Just enough."  He drank from the bottle, then looked at me
again.  Walter turned the bottle on it's side and a small trickle
of wine fell onto my breasts.  Carefully he righted the bottle in
his hand and began to lick the wine from my flesh. The sensations
of the liquid shower and Walter's tongue drove me wild. 
      He tipped the bottle again and this time the cool alcohol
splashed over my breasts and ran down my stomach.  Walter did not
miss a drop and soon I was writhing in ecstasy as his tongue left
my breasts and lapped at the pool of wine that had collected in
my bellybutton.
     "Walter, oh, yes.  Walter...." I could barely breathe.  My
entire body was alive and the waves of pleasure that coursed
through me were overpowering.
     "Tell me what you want, Beth," Walter said between licks and
kisses.  Dragging his tongue over my stomach, he said again,
"Bethany, tell me what you want."
     "I, I don't want you to stop."  I managed to say.
     "And......"
     "And, and."  I breathed rapidly.  
      Walter pulled at the button on the waistband of my jeans,
"Talk to me, Beth."
     "Walter,  Walter." I couldn't think.  I knew what I wanted,
but I didn't have the words.
     "Tell me exactly what you want me to do."  Walter raised his
head from my stomach and opened the zipper on my jeans.  He
reached his hand inside my crotch and rubbed my mound.
     "That!  I want more of that!" I said as I squirmed and tried
to help him lower my pants.
     "You want me to touch you?"  Walter teased, as he pulled my
jeans down past my knees. From the tone of his voice, I knew he
enjoyed watching the effect he had on me.
     "Yes, touch me.  Lick me. Tongue me.  Just do it, damn it!"
I begged.  "Do it now, before I explode."
     "I'm here to please," Walter responded and lowered his head
over my pussy.  He tugged at my underpants and they soon were out
of our way.
     I moved my hips and parted my legs for him.  The cool air
that hit my wet cunt sent another shiver through me.
     Walter glanced up at me, a wicked, licentious smile covered
his face. "Fingers or tongue?" he asked. He was thoroughly
delighting in the delicious torture he was putting me through.
     "Both!"  I glared at him.  "Both, now!"
     "Yes, ma'am."  He winked at me and put his head between my
legs.
     The first flick of his tongue shook me from head to toe.  I
could barely lie still as he licked my cunt lips and teasingly
entered my vagina with his probing tongue.  His fingers found my
clitoris and he expertly began to rub and manipulate my little
love-bud while I moaned and groaned.  I could feel my muscles
tighten and once again I was lost in a erotic haze.  
     Walter's mouth now sucked and teased my clitoris.  Ripple
after ripple of carnal pleasure washed over me.  I was entirely
at his mercy and I didn't care.  The orgasm that started deep
within me was fast approaching its climax.  I rode each jolt that
passed through me as Walter inserted two fingers into my wet
pussy.  I tightened my cunt muscles around them and squeezed as
he ate my swollen clit.  I raised my hips off the blanket as the
final waves crashed through me.  Walter's tongue and fingers were
with me all the way, until I finally collapsed, whimpering and
quivering.  Walter continued to lick my vaginal area dry,
ingesting all my juices.
     I lay on my back exhausted but totally satisfied.  I kept my
eyes closed.  I felt the warm sunshine on my exposed torso and
Walter's tongue, working its magic, once again licked its way up
my belly. 
     As he was about to reach my breasts, he stopped.  I opened
my eyes and looked at him.  He was staring at me, desire and more
in his eyes.
     "Something wrong?" I asked.
     He shook his head, but he did not move.  He continued to
look at me as if caught in a trance.
     "Walter, what is it?" I watched his face.  Desire was
replaced with a sudden look of sadness.  For an instant, he
looked so forlorn that it almost broke my heart.
     "You're leaving Monday afternoon, right?" he finally said.
     "Four o'clock,"  I replied.
     "I wish you could stay," he said simply.  "But I know you
can't."
     I lifted my arms up to him.  "Come here.  I need to hold you
next to me," I said.  And it was true.  I needed to feel him next
to me.
     Walter fell into my arms and I cradled his head on my bosom. 
It always was like this.  Sooner or later during our weekends,
one of us would realize that our time together was passing much
too quickly.  A certain melancholy would descend upon us then. 
We'd lie quietly in each others arms.  Each wanting to say words
that the other longed to hear, each knowing we would never say
them. 
     I kissed the top of his head.  "Remember the last time we
did this?  Outdoors, I mean."
     Walter laughed softly, "Ocho Rios, three Christmases ago."
     "That's right.  We were on the beach and we thought we were
alone." I smiled at the memory.
     "It was 6 a.m. Christmas Day. We _should_ have been alone,"
Walter replied.
     I laughed.  "We sure gave that towel boy an eyeful. 
Remember how wide his stare was?  I thought his eyes were going
to pop right out of his head.  Poor kid."  I looked at Walter.
     He raised his head and smiled, "Poor kid nothing.  We just
gave him an early Christmas present."
     "About 4 years too early, I'd say."  I smiled back at him.
     "You're a wicked, wanton woman, Bethany Rhys," Walter
stated.  Desire replaced the sadness in his eyes once more.
     "You wouldn't want me any other way.  Would you?"  I asked.
     He took my face in his hands, "No, I wouldn't." 
     We kissed again, cherishing the fact that we had two more
days together.

*****************************************************************
(End of Part Three)


From  Tue Jan 14 13:12:56 1997
                         IRONIC
                         (Part Four)


The Footed Bath


     Every muscle in my body ached, as I eased myself into the
soothing hot bath.  I leaned back and enjoyed the comfort of the
water as it cascaded around me.  The hike down the hill and back
to the farmhouse took longer than either of us had expected.  I
was the reason.  The fall that I took earlier that day, had done
more damage than I first realized.  Half way back, the muscles in
my legs began to seize up.  By the time we reached the farmhouse,
I was so stiff I could barely move. 
     Walter had to carry me up the stairs to the loft and into
the bathroom.  He started the bath for me and helped me undress. 
Remarkably my body was not badly bruised.  Two or three black and
blue marks appeared on each of my arms and Walter found a
fist-sized contusion on my lower back.  However, the injuries
that caused me the most immediate pain were my right knee which
was rubbed raw and the scrape on my bruised chin.  
     Walter eyed me from the corner of the bathroom, "Are you
sure you'll be fine?"
     I smiled.  "I just need to soak in this gorgeous old tub for
awhile," I sighed.  Already the heated water was performing its
magic, I was relaxed and beginning to heal.  "I'm feeling better
with every minute."  I studied him.  Worry was written all over
his face.  "I'm fine.  Now go on and get out of here.  Read a
book or something.  I'll be okay."
     Walter turned to leave then hesitated, "Maybe I should stay
here.  You might need something."
     "You're right," I replied.
     "What can I get you?" he asked eagerly.
     "A kiss, and then you can start dinner." I smiled.
     Walter walked towards the tub, leaned over and kissed me on
the top of my head.  "Chicken, fish or beef?"
     "Surprise me."  I closed my eyes and lowered myself further
into the water.  I heard Walter leave and shut the door behind
him.
     I breathed deeply and let my aching body relax.  The old tub
was wonderful.  Its massive deep structure was supported by four
carved feet that raised it almost 18 inches off the floor.  It's
brilliant white porcelain finish was polished smooth.  It was so
long I could almost stretch out completely.  It had a rolled edge
that fit snugly into the back of my neck and supported my head.
     I lay there motionless, floating in the water, letting the
tension of the day melt away.  Seconds, turned into minutes.  I
couldn't remember the last time I had had the luxury of a good
soak. Diplomatic life in Paris only afforded me the precious few
minutes for a quick shower.  I was constantly busy scheduling
meetings, greeting dignitaries, averting crises of culture in the
daily routine,  and sometimes just stuck behind a mountain of
paperwork.  At times like these, when all the hassle and flurry
were miles away, I always wondered if taking this latest post had
been worth it.  I knew I thrived on the increased responsibility. 
Also, I had just enough of an ego, to take pride in the fact that
I was one of the youngest junior attaches ever to hold a position
of such magnitude in a high profile Canadian Embassy.  Yet,
sometimes I wished I could be happy with a simpler life.  What
was lacking in my personal make up that made the everyday seem so
mundane and at the same time so frighteningly out of reach?
     What were my needs, anyway?  I thought long and hard.  I had
always been self-sufficient even as a child. But especially after
Danny had died.  My parents had never been overly affectionate
and both had completely shutdown emotionally after the accident. 
I found myself at the tender age of ten, a permanent resident of
a boarding school more than 700 miles from home.  It was an
excellent school.  My parents would never have abandoned me to
any place less.  Most of the graduates went on to top colleges
and then to careers in industry or the government.  I did
extremely well, scholastically.  I had little else to interest
me.  I did not make friends easily.  I was desperately lonely. 
My parents never visited, but dutifully sent for me every
Christmas.  Each birthday, I received the obligatory card and the
tasteful, yet impersonal gift.  Every summer we drove down to
visit my father's parents in Maine, staying with relatives along
the way and playing "happy family."  We were anything but happy. 
Each of us was trapped in a cocoon of guilt and pain that no one
knew how to shed.
       I learned early in life to rely only on myself and no one
else.  I also learned that public face was all important and all
consuming.  Personal feelings were not to be acknowledged or ever
expressed.  I naturally gravitated to a career where all these
attributes did me the most good, foreign service.  I shone in my
chosen vocation.  I was extremely good at giving the politicos
want they wanted, when they wanted it.  I easily sacrificed
personal wants for duty and country.  I was the perfect example
of the perfect successful life.  On the outside, I was thriving; 
on the inside, I was dying. 
      That's when Walter Skinner had stepped into my life.  In
the beginning, I never did understand what had attracted him to
me in the first place, beyond the obvious physical magnetism we
both felt.  What had kept him coming back after we had first
slept together?  What did he see in me that I didn't even
recognize existed?   Even though I had had to leave D.C. one
short week after our first night together, I had never doubted
him when he said we'd get together that coming Thanksgiving.  I
was a mass of nerves, during my flight from Los Angeles.  It had
been five months since we'd been together.  And though we kept in
touch by phone and the occasional postcard, would we still feel
the same?  Would he still want me?  As soon as I stepped from the
arrival gate at Dulles Airport, all my doubts vanished.  His eyes
shone when he saw me and he wrapped me in a big bear hug, almost
lifting me off the floor.  We spent every minute of that weekend
together and in doing so, Walter Skinner gave me a gift that even
he didn't know about.  He taught me to begin to like myself that
Thanksgiving.

     When I returned to the Canadian Consulate in L.A., my
colleagues noted a marked difference in me.  I had always been
considerate and thoughtful before, protocol and pride had
demanded it.  But now, there was a genuine kindness behind my
actions.  I took an actual interest in my co-workers, their
families and personal problems.  I began to care, and
surprisingly in return, I found people began to truly care about
me, too.  I also allowed my associates to see that I had a sense
of humor, albeit twisted.  Soon I had a reputation for being
quick with a quip and was called upon at times to provide comic
relief when the rigors of political etiquette became too
demanding.  For the first time in my life, I was becoming truly
human, and I owed that all to Walter Skinner.  We had many
weekends together since, ten years worth.  For each of them, I
was extremely grateful.  Did Walter know how he had saved me from
myself?  I had often thought of telling him so.  But deep inside,
I believed he already knew.  Perhaps, he saw a glimmer of the
woman I could be, hidden beneath the shy, restrained exterior
that I presented that night at Charley's, so long ago.
     The door to the bathroom opened slowly. "Thought you could
use something to drink," Walter said as he entered the room,
carrying two glasses of iced-tea.  He handed me a glass and sat
on the closed toilet seat and smiled at me.
     I sipped the tea gratefully.  I was parched. "Hmm, this
really hits the spot, thanks."
     "Feeling better?"  he asked.  There was still a hint of
worry in his voice.
     "Lots better.  I can move my legs again. See?"  I said, as I
lifted my long legs up out of the water, one at time.
     "Good."  Walter took a drink and put his glass on the
counter by the sink.  He watched me for a while then said, "Can I
wash your back for you?"
     I smiled slyly, "Are you any good at it?  Do you have any
references?"  Though we had helped wash each other several times,
I always liked to pretend that every time was the first time.
     Walter moved toward the tub and knelt on the floor beside
it.  "Well, there was this little redhead in Pittsburgh, who told
me once, that my hands should be declared a national treasure." 
     "Really?"  I replied as I sat up and moved down the tub,
giving him full access to my back.
     Walter picked up the soap and began to lather up his hands, 
"And then there's this blonde stewardess from Sweden.  You know
that the Swedes are the masters when it comes to massage, etc. 
And she ..."
     I looked back at him.  "All right.  All right, already.  Let
me experience these magic fingers for myself."
     Walter let his soapy hands glide down my back.  With steady
up and down strokes, he washed every inch of my back.  His touch
was strong, yet gentle.  I shivered as he ran his fingers up my
spine and started to massage my shoulders.  
     I leaned my head back and looked at him.   "You are very
good," I said as I kissed his cheek.  
     "I haven't had any complaints, yet," he replied with a wink. 
"You're still pretty tense, though," Walter said as he kneaded my
knotted muscles.
     I enjoyed the sensation of his fingers on my skin.  Walter
continued the massage as he moved his hands further down my back. 
I was totally relaxed, and had lost all track of time,  when I
noticed that Walter had stopped.  I looked over my shoulder at
him.  I didn't like the look on his face.  "Is something wrong?"
I asked.
     Walter raised his eyes to mine.  "The bruise on your lower
back,"  he hesitated.  "It's a lot bigger than before.  It's
darker, too."
     "Well, I did fall.  I going to be bruised," I said matter of
factly.  I didn't see any reason to be alarmed.
     Walter reached his hand into the water and touched the area
lightly, "Does it hurt?"
     "No more than usual."  I smiled assuredly.
     Walter shook his head and stood up.  He grabbed a bath sheet
and held it open for me. "I don't like the look of it, Beth.  I
should take you to a hospital to get this checked out."
     I stepped from the tub and Walter folded the big towel and
his arms around me.  He held me close.
       I looked at him seriously, "Don't you think you're over
reacting, just a tiny bit?"
     "Beth...." His voice was full of concern.
     "I'm fine, really.  If it was anything serious, there'd be
more pain than I'm experiencing.  Don't you think?"  I watched
his eyes, they were clouded with misgiving.
     Walter bit his lip, then answered, "I guess. Its just that
it looks so horrible."
     I kissed him full on the mouth, "Thanks for the concern, but
I'm fine."  We kissed again. I turned my head towards the door,
"Is that chicken I smell?"
     Walter took my injured chin in his hand, "Yeah.  Get
dressed, dinner is almost ready."  He moved towards the open
door.  "We'll discuss going to a hospital again, after we eat."
     "Walter...." I pouted.
     "I'm serious, Beth.  That bruise really doesn't look good. 
And I don't want anything to happen to you."  He gave me his
stern assistant director stare.
     "Have you heard from Mulder and Scully, yet?"  I asked.  The
look on his face had reminded me of our talk on the ledge earlier
today and the possibility that we were still in danger.
     Walter shook his head again.  "No," he paused.  "And we're 
going to have to discuss that later, too."



****************************************************************


The Game


     After a dinner of chicken, rice and vegetables, Walter and I
sat in the overstuffed armchairs in front of the fireplace.  Even
though it was technically still late summer, the night air was
cool enough for a fire.  A warm glow lit the room and I watched
Walter as he stared at the flames.  He was quiet again, too
quiet.  I knew he was worried.  Worried about not hearing from
Mulder and Scully, and worried about me, too.
     I studied him as he slouched in the big armchair.  He held
his jaw tightly and never blinked as the fire dance before us. 
His legs were stretched out before him and he gripped the arms of
the chair with his hands.  His was not the posture of a man who
was relaxed.  He looked like he had the weight of the world on
his broad shoulders, and that it would do him in at any moment. 
I straightened my right leg and nudged his sock covered foot with
my own.
     "Talk to me, Skinner," I said when he turned to face me. 
"Let me know what's going on in that intelligent mind of yours."
     Walter smiled slightly, but his voice was all business, "I
think we should go back to D.C. tonight."  He saw my reaction to
his statement and quickly added, "It may not be safe for us here
anymore.  Something is wrong, or we would have heard from Scully
and Mulder by now."  He sat straight up in his chair.  "Besides,"
he continued, "that bruise of yours could use some medical
attention."
     "Oh please, I'm fine," my voice echoed the frustration that
I felt.  How many times did I have to say that to him?  "As for
your two agents, there are dozens of possible reasons why they
haven't contacted you yet.  Maybe they had car trouble or maybe
there's road construction between here and Baltimore, and that
delayed them.  Or just maybe, they got tired and hungry and they
stopped somewhere for a bite to eat."  I leaned forward and put
my elbows on my knees to support my head.  "I really don't want
to leave here, Walter."  I said with all sincerity, "I don't want
to leave here until we absolutely have to."
     We looked at each other for a few minutes.  We each knew how
stubborn the other could be.  Finally, Walter smiled, "All right. 
We'll stay."  Then his face became serious. "But Beth, I'm
keeping my gun on top of the stand by the bed tonight.  Until we
find out if that man picked up by the Baltimore PD is Krycek or
not, it's gonna stay there.  And I'm not going to argue about
it."  His brown eyes were determined as he held my gaze.
     I swallowed hard. "Okay," I agreed.  "Sounds like a fair
trade.  I get what I want.  And you get part of what you want." 
From the look Walter gave me, I could tell he was surprised that
I gave in to his demand so easily.  "I'll admit that I'm not
crazy about your gun lying around, but," I paused and smiled at
him. "But if it makes you feel better and if it means that we can
stay here until Monday morning, then, I'm willing to live with
it."
     "Good," Walter said. 
     "But--"
     "Oh, here it comes," he said as he rolled his eyes at me and
slouched back down in the armchair.
     I sighed.  "But," I continued, "I don't want anymore mention
of hospitals or doctors or bruises or anything like that. Okay?" 
I looked at him.  I was serious, too and I wanted him to know it.
"We're here to enjoy ourselves, remember?"  
     "I remember."  Walter answered and looked back at the fire. 
"I suppose this weekend hasn't been that much fun for you, has
it?"  He wore his serious assistant director look again.
     "Oh, it's had its moments," I smiled as I watched him. 
"Hey, how about something to take your mind off your troubles?"
     Walter turned his head and looked at me over the top of his
eyeglasses, "Just what do you have in mind, Ms. Rhys?"  There was
more than a hint of suggestion in his voice.
     "There's a Scrabble game in the bookcase over there," I
said.  "How about a game?  Are you up for a match of wits, so to
speak?"
     "Scrabble?  Beth, I haven't played that since grade school,"
he said unenthusiastically. "I was hoping that you had some other
sort of game in mind."
     "Oh, I do, Mr. Skinner."  I smiled at him knowingly.  "I'm
not suggesting that we play a regular game of Scrabble.  I think
we are both far beyond that."  I knew by the gleam in his eyes
that I had peaked his interest.  "I'd like to propose that we
play a variation of the basic game."
     "Which would be?" Walter asked.
     "Something that I invented about....well let's just say in
my college days."  I winked at him.  "I guarantee that once
you've played my version of the game, you'll never be able to
look at a simple Scrabble board again without blushing."
     Walter's eyes opened wide.  "Just how did you manage to
pervert one of America's greatest family pastimes?"
     "With a little bit of ingenuity and out of sheer necessity. 
The winter nights are long and cold in Canada."  I smiled at him,
"So I take it you're interested in a game?"
     Walter rose from his chair and went to the bookcase.  He
pulled the Scrabble box from the third shelf.  "You know me,
Beth, I'll try anything, once.  Where do you want to set this
up?"
     "How about in front of the fireplace? If all goes as it
should, we're going to need all the heat we can get soon enough." 
I got up and sat cross-legged on the braided rug close to the
hearth.  
     "Great,"  Walter said as he sat opposite me.  He opened the
box and placed the game board between us.  He then began to turn
all the tiles face down in the lid of the box.  "I suppose there
are a set of rules," he said.
     "It's quite simple really," I explained.  "No proper names,
no foreign languages, no abbreviations, like DEA, FBI or CID."
     "How do we keep score?" Walter looked at me.
     "The usual way.  But, this is where the game really gets
interesting," I paused.  "The player with the higher word score
in each turn gets a special bonus."
     Walter grinned. "What would that be?"
     "The player with the higher score gets to chose which piece
of clothing the other player takes off."  I watched as Walter
finished turning the tiles. I knew I had him hooked, he was
already smiling to himself. 
     "Shall we begin?"  I said.

     Walter nodded.  We each took seven tiles from the box and
placed them on the racks in front of us.  "Who goes first?"  he
asked.
     "Be my guest," I said.  "But be forewarned, I haven't lost a
game yet."
      Walter placed five tiles on the board, "Canoe, 7 points
doubled is 14."  He picked up new tiles from the box.
      Using the 'A' from "canoe" I placed five tiles on the board
as well, "Beards, 11 points," I said.  The letters 'E' and 'R'
had covered double letter squares.
     "You're three points short,"  Walter announced.  He leered
at me and arched his eyebrows.  "Take off your tee shirt."
     "So you're going for a major piece of clothing, right away?" 
I questioned.  "I thought you'd start with something minor.  You
know, build the suspense.  Anticipation and all that."
     "Take it off," Walter said plainly.  "It is my call, isn't
it?"
     I pulled my tee shirt over my head and threw it onto the
armchair behind me.  I reached for more replacement tiles.
     "I love this game already," Walter smiled. "Drain,  8
points."  He placed his four tiles beside the 'D' in "beard". 
The letter 'I' covered a triple letter square. "Think you can
beat that?" he bragged as he took replacement tiles once more.
     I looked at the letters in my tile rack.  L,M,N,V,V,O and a
blank.  What could I possibly do with those?
     "Is someone afraid of losing her bra or her jeans next?" 
Walter taunted me.  
     I sneered at him.  He was enjoying this game a little too
much.  Then I saw it.  It wasn't a win but it was just as good;
considering the mercenary way Walter had taken to this game.     
"Bloom," I stated as I placed the tiles on the board to the right
of the 'B' from "beards". "8 points, tie score.  Status quo." 
Though I hated to use a precious blank tile so soon, I had
atleast avoided losing another piece of clothing.  I selected
four new tiles and put them on my rack.
     "I'm gonna beat the pants off you, Rhys," Walter declared. 
"Was, 6 points doubled is 12."  He put a 'W' and 'A' to the left
of the 'S' in beards.  He drew 2 more tiles.  A wicked smile
crossed his face as he place them on his tile rack.  
     "Woven, 11 points." I placed my tiles under the 'W' from
"was".   I looked over at Walter, "Well, what do you want me to
take off, now?  My bra or my jeans?"
     Walter ran his eyes up and down my body.  He smiled and
said, "Take off your left sock."
     "My sock?"  I was surprised.  "Are you sure?"
     "You've got sexy toes, let's see them."
     I removed my sock and picked up four replacement tiles.  I
sighed.  The letters on my tile rack stared back at me mockingly. 
J,Q,R,V,A,I and U.  I was doomed.
     Walter quickly put down his next word.  He used the 'E' from
"woven".  "Keep, 16 points, the letter 'P' is a triple letter
score."  He smiled.
     "I thought you said you haven't played this game since grade
school," I said as he picked his new tiles.
     "That's right, I haven't.  Couldn't find anyone to play
against since the sixth grade." he stated.
     "Why?"  I knew I regretted asking the question as soon as I
said it.
     "Because everyone always got tired of me winning all the
time."  He looked at the board. "It's your turn I believe."
     I stared at my letters.  This was not working out as I had
planned.  For some reason, luck was against me.
     "What happens if one of us has to forfeit a turn?" Walter
asked.  "Does that person still have to remove some of her
clothing?"
     "Stop being so smug, Walter," I chided.  "I'm not defeated,
yet."  I glanced at the board once more.  Relief sweep through me
as I found the break I was looking for.  "Quark, 18 points
doubled is 36."  I placed the appropriate tiles on the board
running up from the 'K' in "keep".  My confidence grew as I
picked up four more tiles.
     Walter sat silently.  I looked him up and down, trying to
decide which article of clothing I would have him remove first. 
If I had him take off his denim shirt, I could see his muscular
chest and shoulders.  However, if I had him remove his jeans, I
might luck out and get a great peep show because of the way he
was seated on the rug.
     "Take off your jeans, please."  I said sweetly.
     Walter started to open his fly.  "What happened to first
removing minor pieces of clothing?  You know, anticipation and
all that?" he asked.
     It was my turn to ogle him.  "Anticipation be damned," I
stated.  "I wanna see some skin, Skinner!"
     Walter laughed in spite of himself and removed his jeans. 
He settled back down on the rug and sat crossed legged in his
boxers.  "I believe its my turn again,"  he said.  "Loom, 6
points doubled is 12."  He put an 'L', and two 'O''s on the board
above the 'M' in "bloom".  He moved to adjust his position as he
reached for new tiles.  And just as I had hoped, I caught a
glimpse of his penis through the gap in the leg of his shorts. 
Things were finally going according to plan.
     I looked at the letters I now had: J,J,V,X, I,I and U.  I
grinned from ear to ear as I took the 'X' and put it on the pink
square to the right of the first O in "loom".  "Ox, 9 points
doubled is 18."  I was now on a roll.  I choose one replacement
tile from the box and looked at Walter.
     "Take off the shorts."
     Walter smiled, "You're kidding, right?"
     I shook my head.  "Take them off."
     Walter started to blush, "Beth, I'll be sitting here in my
shirt and socks."  He gazed at me but knew he would get no mercy. 
"You're ruthless," he said simply as he pulled off his boxers 
and sat back down on the rug on his bare butt.  "And to think I
asked you to remove a lousy sock, the second time.  I'll tell you
one thing, Bethany.  No more Mr. Nice Guy."
     I stared at his crotch.  His penis was slightly erect and I
could feel myself becoming aroused at the sight of him.  "Your
turn, Walter," I said as I licked my lips.

     Walter stared at the board for a few seconds, then picked up
a tile.  "Pox, 12 points,"  he said as he placed the letter 'P'
to the left of "ox".
     I took the letter 'V' from my rack and put it on the pink
double word square between the 'A' of "quark" and the 'O' in
"woven".  "Avo," I announced, "6 points doubled is 12."  We had
tied the round once again.
     Walter leaned forward and stared at the board.  "What's
that?" he asked.
     "A monetary unit from Macao," I replied.
     "Hey, I thought you said no foreign languages."  He looked
at me accusingly.
     "Are you challenging me?"  I looked at him.  "Because I
didn't explain what happens if you lose a challenge."
     Walter paused, "What happens if I challenge?"
     "If you challenge and win, I have to remove two articles of
clothing," I stated.  "However, if you challenge and are proven
wrong, you remove a piece of clothing of my choice.  And I get to
put back on any piece of my clothing that I want."
     Walter stared at the game board and then back at me.  "You
said no foreign languages."
     "So you're challenging my right to use the word 'avo' then?"
I reiterated.
     "Yeah," Walter nodded.  "What do we use as a reference
book?"
     I looked over at the bookcase behind him and searched the
shelves for a dictionary of any kind.  "I think there's a
dictionary on the second shelf from the top, in the bookcase
behind you."
     Walter sprang to his feet.  "I'll get it," he said.  He
walked over to the shelf.  I watched his bare butt with great
interest.  Funny that I never thought of playing this game with
him before.  He was a natural.  He hurried back and stood in
front of the game board and I once again felt my juices flow from
my cunt lips as his penis bobbed before him.  He sat down again,
opened the book and looked at me.  
     "Take it off, Beth.  Take it all off."  The triumph in his
voice was unmistakable.  He tossed the open dictionary to me. 
"It's not in there."
     I grabbed the book and quickly turned to the appropriate
page, "That can't be!"  That word had never failed me before, but
a swift scan of the page that it should have been on, proved
Walter was right.  "Avo" was not in this dictionary.  I looked at
Walter, he wore a shameless grin.
     "It's in the official Scrabble dictionary." I tried to plead
my case.  "Really it is.  How do you think I found that word in
the first place?"
     Walter just stared at me and shook his head.  He raised his
eyebrows and said, "Jeans first, then the bra."
     I closed my eyes and momentarily hung my head in defeat. I
slipped my jeans off without standing up and dropped them onto
the armchair behind me.  They landed on my abandoned tee shirt
that I'd lost in the first round.  I glanced at Walter.  He was
watching me with keen interest.  His penis had grown in size and
his face was beginning to flush with excitement.
     "Now the bra."  His eyes were focused on my chest.
     I unhooked the catch and pulled the garment from me.
     "I just love this game," Walter announced.  "Do you know how
much I love this game?"
     I threw my bra into his face and smiled.  As much as I hated
losing, he was so appealing sitting there in his bare ass, denim
shirt and socks.  There was no way for him to hide his arousal. 
And I definitely could not deny my own.  I wanted him, but our
game wasn't finished yet.
     Walter took my bra and hung it around his neck.  "Another
trophy for my collection."  He looked at me, then back at the
game board.  "I wonder how fast I can wrap this up?"  He looked
me straight in the eye.  His desire for me was plain.  "I want to
get on to other things."
     He picked up three tiles from his rack and placed them on
the game grid.  "Orate, 6 points, the 'R' is on a double letter
square."  The tiles fit between the 'O' in "canoe" and the 'A' in
"drain" and ran down the board.  He picked up three new tiles
then smiled at me, "Surely you'll be able to beat that," he
teased.
     I looked at the letters that I was to use.  H, J, M, Y, two
I's and a U.  I only had one sock and my panties left to remove. 
I couldn't believe my rotten luck.  I really had never lost at
this game before.  I tried to think.  This was not going to be
easy.  Right now I couldn't see any way to beat Walter's low six
point score.
     "May I suggest a time limit of three minutes per turn?"
Walter taunted me again.
     "No.  This is my game, I make up the rules," I said sternly. 
"Now stop bugging me, you're already in the lead."
     "Take a deep breath, then.  I love the way your breasts move
up and down when you breathe," Walter said lustfully.
     I shot him a glance, "And you think I'm twisted?"
     Walter just winked at me.  I returned my attention to the
board.  I had to find something, anything to play.  Finally after
a few minutes I saw the word I needed.  "Hem, 12 points, the 'H'
is a double letter score."  I put the 'H' and 'M' around the 'E'
from "orate".  I selected two new tiles, and looked at Walter.
     "You know what I want to see,"  I said simply.
     Walter smiled as he removed his shirt.  He sat there in
front of me, magnificent in his nakedness. "How much longer is
this gonna take?"  He fixed me with that stare of his that always
made me melt.
     "That depends on how much you want to win or not," I
replied.
     Walter breathed deeply.  "I figure, at this game, even if I
lose, I win."  His eyes shone bright with desire.  He pulled my
bra from around his neck and tossed it into his armchair.
     "It's your turn, Walter," I reminded him.  
     He reached down and pulled off his socks.  "I don't want to
play board games anymore," he said.  With one swift push he slid
the game and its box out into the middle of the floor, back
towards the kitchen area away from us.  He reached for me and
pulled me into his arms.  He kissed my mouth and my neck.  I ran
my hands over his bare chest and shoulders.  His erect cock
brushed against my thighs.  I reached down and stroked it, as
Walter continued to kiss me.
     "I want you, Beth," he whispered as he gently rolled me onto
my back.  "I want you, so much."  I continued to stroke his
enlarged penis as he pulled my panties down my legs and threw
them across the room.  He then pulled my sock from my right foot. 
He slowly ran his strong hands up my legs.  I tingled from head
to toe.  He stroked my inner thighs as I parted my legs and the
fingers of his right hand touched my cunt.  "Oh, you're so wet."
     "That's because I want you, too," I breathed.  We kissed
passionately as he continued to explore my vagina and clitoris
with his fingers.  Fire raced through me as our kisses increased
in intensity.  I ran my nails down his back. Walter slid his
hands under my hips and grabbed my ass to help me raise it enough
so his big cock could enter my cunt easily.  I felt a sharp pain
in my lower back and although I didn't want to, I froze and cried
out.
     Walter stopped and looked at me.  "Did I hurt you?"  His
voice was confused, his eyes were full of concern.  Then I knew
he knew what the problem was. "It's that bruise, isn't it?  Beth,
roll over, I want to have a look it."
     "No. That's not necessary," I said.  "I don't want to stop
now.  Please, Walter."  I kissed him.  I rubbed my hips into his
and reached for his penis.  I stroked it again.  I wanted to get
his mind back on to our strong physical need for each other. 
     Walter pulled my hand from him.  "This is serious, Beth. 
Now roll over, or I'll roll you over myself," he ordered. 
     I looked into his eyes and saw the anxiety and determination
there.  "Okay.  I'll turn over.  You can have your morbid, little
look at my bruise and then we can get back at it."
     Walter moved away from me slightly to give me room to
manoeuvre.  I propped myself up on my left side and looked at
him.  "I can't believe I'm doing this.  That we stopped right in
the middle of--"
     "Beth, please," he urged.
     I sighed and rolled onto my stomach.
     "Jesus Christ!"  Walter almost shouted.
     For the first time since the fall, I was frightened that I
was seriously hurt.  "What?  Walter, what is it?"
     "Your bruise has really spread, Beth.  It's easily five
times bigger than before." I heard the panic in his voice.  "I
think you're bleeding internally.  We're going to the hospital
right now."
     "No one's going anywhere!"
     We both looked toward the loud voice that surprised us. 
     A young man with dark brown hair stood not ten feet away, in
his hands he held a gun.  "Well, well.  Isn't this cozy?" he
said.  His dark eyes were full of hate.
     I felt Walter move his body closer to mine, protectively.
Fear raced through me. I stared at the gun.  I reached for
Walter's hand.  I wanted to look at him, but I couldn't.  I was
too afraid to move.  I closed my eyes.

     "Krycek."  I heard Walter say.



*****************************************************************
(End of Part Four)

From  Tue Jan 14 13:13:56 1997

                    IRONIC
                    (Part Five)
               

The Ordeal


     "Just look at the two of you," Krycek's voice was full of
contempt.  I opened my eyes again and watched as he stepped
closer.   He sat down on his haunches in front of us and held his
gun close to Walter's head.  "Surprised to see me, Assistant
Director Skinner?"
     "This isn't necessary, Krycek," Walter's voice was calm and
low.  "Let us get up and get dressed.  And you and I....we'll
talk this out."  Walter folded his arms tighter around me as he
spoke.
     Krycek laughed. "I'm done talking, old man."  He moved the
barrel of the gun from Walter and pointed it right at me.  "I got
other things on my mind.  I got other plans."  I stared at the
gun that the young man held not three inches from me.  I began to
shake as the meaning of his statements hit home.
     I felt Walter's body stiffen.  "She has nothing to do with
any of this.  Let her go."  Though his voice remained steady, it
was tinged with anger.   
     Krycek shook his head and grinned again. "No way," he said
as he grabbed my arm and tried to pull me away from Walter.  But
Walter was not ready to let the younger man have me so easily. He
held on to me even tighter.  I felt the cold metal of the gun
press against my forehead.  Krycek voice was ice cold. "Let her
go or I'll kill her right now," he said to Walter. "You know I'm
capable."
     Walter stared at the man and breathed deeply.  He lowered
his head close to mine.  "It'll be okay, Beth," he whispered to
me.  "It'll be okay. I promise."  
     Krycek grabbed my arm again and pulled me across the rug. 
"Get up," he ordered.  I didn't move.  I couldn't.  I just stared
at the gun that he held in his hand.  "Get up!" he screamed at me
again.
     I knelt on the rug and used the side of the armchair to help
me to my feet and stood before him.  My knees were shaking and I
was beginning to feel the familiar panic that always overtook me
when I saw a gun.  Krycek stared at me.  I turned away.  I
couldn't stand the way he smiled as he looked at my naked body. 
He put his hand under my bruised, scraped chin and turned my face
back to his.  "You like it rough, huh?"  The tone of his voice
sickened me. 
     The panic that I had felt so intensely just moments before
was quickly replaced with anger.  I did not like what he was
implying.  For the first time I looked Alex Krycek straight in
the eye, "Walter didn't do this. I fell," I said.  Much to my
surprise my voice was defiant and strong.
     He grinned and shook his head. "That's what they all say."

     "She's hurt, Krycek."  Walter added, trying to reason with
the man.  "The fall she took earlier today may have done some
internal damage.  She needs medical attention."
     Krycek laughed in disbelief. "Is that what you were doing
when I walked in here?  Giving her medical attention?  Is that
what you call it?"  He leered at me.  "You're gonna get lots of
attention, sweetheart.  Believe me."  He moved closer to me and
reached out to touch my breast.  I stepped back.
     Walter sat up on the rug, ready to come to my defence. 
"Leave her alone, Alex.  This is between you and me."
     Krycek raised his gun and put it under my chin.  "I told you
I'd make you pay for setting me up, Skinner.  I told you I knew
exactly how to do it, too."  He moved the barrel of the gun along
my jawline back into my hair behind my ear.  "To get at you, I
hurt her.   And to really get you, I make you watch."  The menace
in Krycek's voice was only outdone by the crazed look in his
eyes.     
     "Don't do this Krycek,"  Walter continued.  "Don't make
things worse for yourself.  Right now, nothing serious has
happened."  He paused, "But if you do anything to hurt her, there
will be nothing anyone can do to help you.  There'll be no place
that you can hide."  His deep brown eyes glared at the younger
man, "I promise you, boy,  I'll kill you myself."  
     "Shut up! You're in no position to make any threats," Krycek
shouted.  "You're in no position to do anything."  The younger
man's anger seemed to overpower him.  "Assistant Director Walter
S. Skinner!  You think you're so good.  But you're no different
from anyone that you say you're against.  You proved to me Friday
that you can't be trusted.  None of you can be trusted."  He put
his hand on my shoulder and pushed me toward the fireplace, all
the while keeping the gun pointed at me and keeping me between
Walter and himself.  "Throw him his jeans," he said to me.  "I'm
tired of looking at his bare ass."
     I picked up Walter's jeans from the armchair and tossed them
to him.  He slipped them on, as Krycek watched to make sure that
was all he did.  Walter's denim shirt was lying nearby.  I picked
it up and started to put it on.
     "Hey, what are you doing?"  Krycek asked looking back at me. 
"No one told you to get dressed."
     "I'm cold," I said simply. I was cold, but I also wanted to
cover my body from the younger man's lewd stares.  I did up the
snaps on the shirt and stood still.  I looked at Walter.  He was
watching Krycek intently.  I knew he was waiting for an
opportunity to gain the upper hand and overpower the younger man. 
Suddenly I was terribly frightened that Walter would be hurt, if
his attempt was unsuccessful.  Alex Krycek was armed and
obviously very unstable.  Maybe if I could distract Krycek long
enough, that would give Walter the advantage that he needed. 
Even though, I was scared and did not know how much longer I
could remain in control of my emotions, I could only think of one
thing I could do.  "But I'll take the shirt off again, if you
want me to, Alex," I said calmly.  I started to undo the snaps of
the shirt I had just put on.
     Both men stared at me.  Disbelief was written all over
Walter's face.  He shook his head slightly to signal me to stop. 
I ignored him and undid another snap.  I looked directly at Alex
Krycek.  He was definitely interested.  I opened the last two
snaps.  The denim shirt hung open.  I was exposed to him once
more.
     Krycek ran his eyes over me. "That's very tempting," he
paused.  "But first we have to take care of old Walt here." I
watched as Krycek forced Walter, at gunpoint, to get up off the
rug and move toward the oak table and chairs that stood in the
middle of the room.  "Sit down," he ordered him. 
     Walter sat on a chair to the right of the table, facing me. 
Again he shook his head at me, to warn me off any further attempt
at diverting Krycek.  I stared back at him, fighting every urge
within myself to breakdown and cry.  The nausea that I had been
suppressing, rose violently again in my stomach.  I swallowed
hard and tried to maintain what little self control I had.  If I
lost it now, I would be of no help to Walter or myself.  I had to
remain calm.  No matter what happened.
     "Find me something to tie him up with," the younger man
ordered.  "Find me something, now!"  He was becoming more and
more agitated.  "Hurry up!" he screamed.
     I looked around. There wasn't anything remotely like a rope
in the room.  Krycek stared at me and lowered the gun to Walter's
head, as a warning to me that I better move quickly.  I needed to
think and I needed to find something to use fast.  I started to
panic at the thought that Walter would be hurt because I couldn't
do what Alex Krycek wanted me to do.  Finally, I picked up my
bra, the same bra that Walter had tossed into the armchair during
our board game. "Will this do?"  I asked holding up the
undergarment for his approval.
     Krycek glanced at it and then at me.  "Guess it will have
to," he said.  "Bring it here and tie him up."  Krycek moved
behind Walter and motioned me, with his gun to stand between him
and Walter's chair.  "Put your hands behind your back, Skinner," 
the younger man ordered.  "Put one of your arms through the back
above the crossbeam on the chair."  Walter did as he was told. 
The space between the crossbeam and the top of the chair barely
afforded enough room for his muscular left arm to fit through it. 
He put his right arm around the side of the chair and waited.
     Krycek pushed me to the floor.  I landed hard on my knees
directly behind Walter. "Tie his hands," Krycek ordered me. 
"Make it good and strong, too.  I'll be checking."  He put the
barrel of the gun at the back of my head for added incentive.
     Through a haze of fright, I wound my bra around Walter's
crossed wrists as tightly as I could.  I pulled with all my
strength to make sure that the knot I tied was secure.  I didn't
want Krycek to find fault with anything I'd done and hurt us. The
flesh around Walter's wrists turned white as the flow of blood to
his hands became restricted.  I rose to my feet and leaned over
his left shoulder.  Walter turned his face to mine.  Our eyes
met.  I saw understanding and worry in his eyes and hoped he
could read the same in my own. "I'm sorry," I whispered.  "I
don't know what else to do."
     Krycek put his face next to mine and looked at both of us.
"You're doing just fine.  Isn't she, Walt?" he sneered.
     Walter's eyes never left mine.  "Yes," he answered the
younger man.  "She won't give you any trouble."  As he said the
word "trouble", he widened his stare.  I smiled slightly at
Walter so that he knew I understood his warning.  
      Krycek put his hand on the back of my neck.  He pulled me
upright and steered me around the table and pushed me into a
chair directly across from Walter.  He pulled another chair close
to mine and sat down.  No one spoke.  I watched Walter and Krycek
stare at each other.  I wondered what would happen next. 
     I decided to use this brief respite to look closely at Alex
Krycek.  Although he held his jaw firmly, his eyes darted around
the room.  He was obviously very upset and running on nerves
alone.  This made him extremely dangerous.  Though he had the
weapon, he looked like he was almost as scared as I was.  He sat
hunched over the table.  In his left hand, he held the gun that
he pointed at Walter.  But his grip was not as firm as it had
been before.  He was favoring this arm. And then I remembered. 
Walter had said that Krycek had been shot in the shoulder Friday
afternoon.  From the beads of sweat that were evident on his
forehead, I realized that Krycek must still be in a fair amount
of pain.  Maybe I could use his injury to help Walter and me, if
given the chance.
     Krycek leaned closer to me and draped his right arm around
my neck and let his hand hang down over my shoulder.  It brushed
against my right breast through the material of the open denim
shirt.  I bristled at his touch.  He pointed the gun that he held
in his other hand at me.  I felt his warm breath on my neck and
fought the urge to recoil when he ran his tongue up along my neck
and nibbled on my left ear.  He grabbed my right breast through
the shirt.  "Nice, very nice," he whispered into my ear, loud
enough for Walter to hear.  "Now what else can we do?"
     I kept my eyes focused on Walter.  He glared at Krycek as he
watched the younger man touch and kiss me.  His jaw was clenched
and color rose in Walter's cheeks as Krycek reached his right
hand inside my open shirt and grabbed my bare left breast.  I
flinched.  I wanted to pull away but Krycek moved his left hand
onto my lap and buried the barrel of the gun into my stomach.  I
felt tears well up in my eyes and start to run down my cheeks. 
Tears of humiliation and fear.  I did not move as Krycek
increased the pressure of his grasp on my breast, but the pain
made me cry out.  Still the intensity of his grip grew.  I could
feel his fingernails cut into my skin and dig their way deeper
into my flesh.
     "Stop it!" Walter yelled.  "You aren't going to accomplish
anything by hurting her!"
     Krycek stared at Walter, a wicked grin crossed his face. 
"Are you in pain?" he asked me, without looking away from Walter.
     "Yes," I managed to say through my silent sobs.  The pain
had multiplied so much that I could barely sit straight anymore. 
I leaned forward almost resting my forehead on the oak table in
front of me.  Krycek dug his fingers further into my breast.
     "Well then, I did accomplish something," Krycek spat out the
words at Walter.  He glared at him.  "I guess you weren't
listening before when I said I knew how to get to you, Skinner!" 
He turned to look at me, smiled and said calmly, "Maybe, you'll
understand, sweetness.  I hurt you, and I make him watch."  He
let go of my breast and ran his hand up through my hair and
pulled my head back.  
     I sank back into the hard, wooden chair.  I pulled the open
denim shirt I wore tighter around my body.  My breast throbbed
from the pain that Krycek's grip had inflicted on me.  I felt
tears well up in my eyes again.  I risked a glance at Walter.  I
knew he felt my agony by the look in his eyes as we made contact. 
Walter then looked at Krycek.  Once more his face became stoic.
     "Is that all you want, Alex?"  He again tried to reason with
the younger man. "All this, just to hurt me."
     Krycek looked at Walter and raised the gun from my lap. "No,
that's not the only thing I want," he said slowly.  "I want
justice."
     "This isn't the way to get it, Alex," Walter said.  He
looked at the younger man.  "Let Beth go.  This has nothing to do
with her."
     Krycek grinned.  "This has everything to do with her.  She's
a means to an end.  And you're the one that brought her into this
in the first place."  He leaned across the table at Walter.  "You
made her what she is today, Assistant Director Skinner."  He
pointed his gun at Walter. 
     Alex Krycek looked from Walter to me, "You both think you
were so discreet, don't you?"  He shook his head and laughed to
himself.  "There's a dossier on you, this thick," he said to me
as held his forefinger and thumb of his right hand about four
inches apart.  "Do you seriously think you can be regularly
screwing a federal agent who has risen to the office of Assistant
Director with the Bureau and no one is going to notice?"
     "Who would want to compile a file on me?" I asked.  I was
totally puzzled by what Krycek was telling us.  "I'm just a
junior attache at the Canadian Embassy in Paris.  Hardly spy
material for anyone to be concerned about.  I'm not a great
security risk."
     Krycek looked at me and sneered.  "You just don't get it do
you, Bethany Gayle Rhys?"  His smile increased as he saw my
reaction to the fact that he knew my full name.  "That's right. 
I know all about you.  Where you went to boarding school.  That
you graduated summa cum laude from McGill.  I know you started a
Doctorate in Government Studies from Columbia, but never
finished.  It's all in the dossier how you moved up the ranks
from simple secretary at the Canadian Embassy in D.C.,
transferred to L.A.  And from there to attach‚ posts in London
and Oslo, and finally to your present position in Paris."  I
stared open mouthed at Krycek as he recited a litany of my life. 
"I know all about the times that you and A.D. Skinner have been
together.  All the weekends in D.C., New York, London, Jamaica,
Baltimore.  You two do it constantly, don't you? Any time,
anywhere."  He paused, "I also know that you didn't attend your
own father's funeral three years ago."  He continued, "That was
pretty cold, wasn't it?"  He leaned closer to me and through a
sinister smile added, "I even know all about your little
brother."
     "Danny..." I barely whispered his name.  "You know about
Danny?"  I breathed deeply,  trying to fight back the tears that
once again overtook me. "Why?" I finally asked.  "Why?"
     Krycek gave me a look of total frustration.  "Like I said
before, you just don't get it.  It's not who you are--" 
     "It's _what_ you are," Walter finished Krycek's statement. 
"It's what you are to me."
     Krycek pointed his gun at Walter.  "Give the man a cigar!"
     I sat silently trying to understand all that I had just
learned.  Someone had kept a file on me for years.  Someone had
followed my career accomplishments and delved into the mess that
was my family.  Some shadow organization within the FBI had been
watching Walter and me for close to ten years.  Cataloging our
weekends together and God only knows what else. 
     "It still doesn't make any sense," I stated.  "Why?"
     Walter looked at me.  "To use against me, Beth."  He bit his
lower lip.  "You are something that can be used against me.  To
make me toe the line," he said bitterly.
      I looked at Krycek, he nodded at me.  "That dossier makes
fascinating reading, really.  Great candid photos, too."  He
leaned closer to me once again.  This time he put his free hand
on my thigh.  "If you're nice to me, Beth, maybe I'll let you see
it."  He started to move his hand up my leg.  I moved away from
him slightly, but stopped as he raised the gun and held it just
inches from Walter's forehead.  "Play nice or he gets it," Krycek
said simply.
     I looked at Walter.  I saw the frustration and anger in his
face.  I knew he felt this way because he couldn't protect me. 
We held each others gaze for a moment, totally helpless. Then
Walter steeled his eyes and leaned forward across the table
toward Krycek, lifting the chair he was bound to behind him. 
Krycek raised the barrel of the gun and planted it firmly against
Walter's forehead.
     "You better be prepared to use that gun, Krycek," Walter
said through clenched teeth.  "Because if you touch her again,
I'm coming over this table after you."
     Krycek smirked and stared at Walter.  He moved his hand
farther up between my legs and groped my mound.  Walter moved to
headbutt the gun from Krycek's hand, but the younger man was
ready for him.  He quickly moved the weapon and struck Walter
full force on the left side of his head with it.  Walter fell
back with a start, the chair rattled beneath him.  He was dazed. 
He blinked uncontrollably and tried to focus his eyes.  A small
trickle of blood ran down the side of his cheek from a cut,
somewhere in his hairline. 
     "Don't hurt him!"  I screamed.  "You can do whatever you
want to me.  Just don't hurt him, anymore!"  I pushed Krycek's
hand from me and stood up.  I had to get to Walter. 
     Krycek leaned back in his chair to block my way. "But it's
no fun if he doesn't watch," he said simply.  "And right now, it
doesn't look like he'll be able to see anything for awhile."
     "You're sick, you bastard," I said.  "Stop playing these
childish games."  I moved past him and knelt at Walter's side.  
I stroked his forehead.  "I'm here, Walter," I said.  "I'm here."
     Walter turned and looked at me.  He still had trouble
focusing.  "Did he hurt you?" he asked.  The cut on his head was
bleeding slowly.  He closed his eyes tight and I knew he was
fighting to remain conscious and alert.  It was a battle that he
was losing.
     I shook my head.  "He didn't hurt me, Walter," I said
calmly.  "Nothing he does will hurt me, because I won't let it." 
I felt a new found strength grow within me.  Something I had
never before experienced in my life.  I kissed Walter's cheek.  
If Alex Krycek thought he could control and hurt me because of
everything he knew about me, then he was going to get a big
shock.  I silently pledged to turn all I had just learned against
him.  I was tired of being scared.  I would no longer be a
helpless victim. 
     Krycek stood behind me.  "Isn't this touching?" he scoffed. 
He put his hand roughly on my shoulder. "Get up!" he ordered,
pulling at me.
     I shook off his hand and turned toward him.  "Don't you ever
touch me again," I said.  The strength and resolve in my voice
surprised him.  I rose to my feet and faced him, determined to
gain back some measure of control.  I decided that now was the
time for me to prove to Alex Krycek that I would no longer be
pushed around.  I started to do up the snaps on the shirt I wore. 
Krycek just stood and watched me.  He was obviously having a hard
time dealing with my new found attitude.  
     When I finished closing the last snap on the shirt, I stared
at Krycek and boldly walked behind Walter's chair and reached
down to his bound hands.  I began to loosen the knot that I had
tied earlier.
     "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Krycek asked
in disbelief.  He moved closer to me and put the gun to my head
once more.
     I continued to untie Walter's hands.  "He's hurt.  I'm
moving him to the couch,"  I answered.
     "Stop it!  I swear I'll kill you if you don't stop!"  Krycek
shouted.
     My fingers worked diligently and finally Walter's hands were
free. The bra fall to the floor.  I rubbed the skin around
Walter's wrists to help restore his circulation.  Walter moved
slightly in his chair. "Beth..." he whispered.
     "Stop it!" Krycek said again.  "I'll shoot you."
     I stared directly at him and pushed the gun from my head. 
"Later, right now I'm busy,"  I said simply.   I turned my
attention back to Walter.  "Walter,"  I said softly, "I'm going
to help you get to the couch, so that you can lie down.  Okay?" 
I slipped my hands under his arms and pulled him to his feet. 
      Walter was having a hard time maintaining his balance.  The
after-effects of the blow that he had suffered, left him confused
and uncoordinated.  "Krycek will..." he slurred his words so
badly that I could not understand him.
     "Krycek won't give us any trouble,"  I said trying to ease
his mind.  "Don't worry.  Just walk, Walter.  Lean on me."  I
moved from behind the chair to Walter's side and draped his right
arm across my shoulders.  I guided him slowly toward the couch.  
     Krycek stepped out in front to block our way.  "Take him
back to the chair,"  he said as he levelled his gun at us.
     I stopped and Walter slouched, throwing his weight against
me.  I had a hard time keeping him upright.  I looked at the
younger man.  "Help me, or get out of my way,"  I said sternly as
I once again moved forward pulling Walter with me. 
      As we got closer to him, Krycek again tried to make a
stand.  "I said take him back."  
     I fixed him with my most determined stare.  "And I said get
out of my way."  I glared at Krycek and did not stop moving
toward the couch.  With Walter leaning heavily against me, the
pain in my lower back was growing more intense.  I did not know
how much longer I could support Walter and dared not stop again
even as Krycek threatened us.  I steadily moved toward the couch
and Krycek finally stood to the side as Walter and I passed him. 
     Once I got Walter into a comfortable position on the couch,
I turned and glanced at Krycek.  He was leaning on the mantel of
the fireplace, watching us closely.  Kneeling in front of the
couch, I looked back at Walter.  The cut on the side of his head
had stopped bleeding.  He drifted in and out of consciousness. I
ran my hand over his forehead.  His skin was cold and clammy to
the touch.  "Everything will be all right, Walter," I said
soothingly. "You just rest and don't you worry about a thing. 
I'm here, Walter," I whispered.  "I'm here."  I leaned forward
and kissed him.
     Krycek moved towards us.  "You've done enough for him," he
said as he stood next to me. "Time to concentrate on other
things."  He pulled me to my feet beside him.  "It's my turn now
to find out what makes you so special."  The look in his eyes
told me what he had in mind. 
     I tried to get away from him but Krycek grabbed me tightly
around the waist.  I kicked and struggled the best that I could,
but he punched me in my lower back.  The bruise that Walter had
been so concerned about, now proved to be my downfall.  I could
feel myself almost blackout as I doubled over in pain.  Krycek
took advantage of my dazed condition and threw me to the floor. 
He pulled all the snaps open on my denim shirt and pushed the
material down over my shoulders and used it to pin my arms behind
my back.  I felt his mouth on my breasts and although I still was
in great pain, I tried to kick at him.  However, he used his legs
to immobilize my own.  I screamed but he put one of his hands
over my mouth and began to suck on my breasts once more.  I was
terrified yet still could not fight him off.  The pain in my back
was overwhelming.  And with his total body weight pinning me
down, I was entirely at his mercy.
       Krycek lifted his head from my chest and looked at me. 
The smile that he wore sent an icy chill right through me.  "I'm
going to wipe all memory of that old man's touch from your mind,"
he said earnestly.  He pushed his left hand between my legs and
forced his fingers into me.  The pain was excruciating as he dug
deeper into my cunt.  Again he sucked and bite at my breasts.  I
felt his penis stiffen and grow in size as he pressed his hips
into mine.  He withdrew his fingers from me and began to tug at
the zipper on his pants.  
     I looked over at the couch.  Walter lay with his head turned
away from me.  He was unconscious.  I was truly on my own.  As
Krycek began to lower his pants, I moved my left leg out from
under him and kicked.  My foot landed full force behind his right
knee.   Krycek pulled away from me and cried out.  He removed his
hand from my mouth and placed it around my throat.  "Bitch!" he
screamed as he squeezed tightly.  I fought for air as, Krycek
increased his grip.  Again, I felt his other hand between my
legs, spreading them apart so that he could force his way into
me.   I couldn't breathe and started to blackout as Krycek
strangled me.  Then suddenly he removed his hand from my throat. 
I gasped and drew the precious air deep into my lungs.  Krycek
sat up and turned his head toward the kitchen area.  
      I lay there silently, trying to catch my breath.  Something
had captured Krycek's attention.  Something was important enough
that he had stopped his vicious attack on me.  I closed my eyes
and breathed deeply and offered a silent prayer of thanks for
whatever the interruption.  And that's when I heard it, too. 
That's what Krycek was so interested in.  Walter's cellular phone
was ringing.  I opened my eyes.
     Krycek stood and buttoned the waistband of his pants.  "Who
knows this number?"  he asked, his voice full of panic.  "Who was
Skinner expecting to call?"
     I tried to answer him, but my voice wasn't there.  I coughed
and tried to speak again.  "Mulder and Scully,"  my voice was
hoarse, my throat sore.  "Walter was waiting for them to phone." 
I coughed again and tasted my own blood.
     Krycek pulled me to my feet.  My back still hurt, but I
tried to keep up with him as he shoved me toward the ringing
phone that sat on the kitchen counter. 
     "Why would they be calling here?"  He put his hands around
my throat again.  "Why?"
     I breathed deeply and said, "They went to Baltimore.  A
report had come in that a man matching your description was
picked up by the police there.  Walter sent them to check it
out."  The phone still rang and Krycek stared at it. "If I don't
answer," I continued, "they'll know something is wrong.  The
state police could be here in ten minutes."
     "Pick it up,"  he said to me.  "But be careful what you
say."   He kept one hand around my throat.  His other hand moved
to my lower back and formed a fist that he pressed into me.
     I nodded and picked up the still ringing phone.  "Hello,"  I
said, trying to sound calm and cheerful. 
     I heard someone breathing on the open line.  "Hello," I said
again.
     "Ah, Miss Rhys?"  A male voice asked.
     "Yes, that's right."  I answered.  Krycek moved his head
closer to the phone to hear both sides of the conversation.
     "Miss Rhys, this is Special Agent Fox Mulder.  I'm sorry to
bother you but I'd like to speak to A.D. Skinner, please."
     I paused, then said, "I'm sorry Agent Mulder.  Wally can't
come to the phone right now."  I tried to make my voice as casual
as I could.  "He's in the shower."

     "She said he's in the shower,"  I heard the man say softly. 
The man paused then added,  "Look, Miss Rhys --"
     "Call me Beth, please.  Wally's told me so much about you
and Agent Scully that I feel I already know you."
     "That's nice," the man paused again.  "Beth," he continued
slowly, "this is very important.  It's has to do with an
assignment in Baltimore."
     "Yes, 'Charm City'. Isn't it wonderful?  I just love
Baltimore.  Wally and I were there in 1994.  We really enjoyed
Fells Point Pier and the --"
     "Beth, forgive me for interrupting but," I could hear the
frustration in the man's voice.  I knew he was thinking I was an
incredible ditz.  "I really need to speak with Assistant Director
Skinner," he said slowly, emphasizing every word. "It has to do
with why you are both there at the farmhouse." 
     "The farmhouse.  This place is really great." I kept my
voice light.
     I heard the man breath deeply.  "I'm glad you like it," he
said simply.  I could tell he was becoming extremely aggravated
with me.  
     "We both do really," I said cheerfully, too cheerfully. 
"Wally and I were hiking today and this whole area --"  
     "Miss Rhys,"  the man's voice was no longer patient and
polite.  "Please tell A.D. Skinner that the man in Baltimore was
not, I repeat, was not Alex Krycek."
     "Sure, thanks for calling."
     "Miss Rhys!  Don't hang up yet.  Miss Rhys, are you still
there?"
     "Uh huh."  I answered nonchalantly.
     "I recommend that you and A.D. Skinner head back to D.C.
right away."  The man's voice was serious.
     "Okay, I'll tell him," I replied.  "Oh and Agent Mulder,
please thank your mother for the use of her relative's farmhouse. 
We really appreciate it.  Bye-bye."  I disconnected the call. 
     I put the phone down on the countertop.  My hands were
shaking.  I breathed deeply and closed my eyes.  Maybe by playing
it safe, I had just lost the last chance that Walter and I had
for freedom.  Maybe I should have told Agent Mulder what was
really going on and taken my chances with Krycek.  I silently
prayed that I had done the right thing.
     Krycek pulled at my arm.  I opened my eyes and looked at
him.  "You did okay," he said. "That ought to keep them away from
here for awhile, anyway."
     I let Krycek lead me back toward the couch.  He pushed me to
the floor again in front of Walter and walked to the fireplace
and picked up his gun from the mantelpiece.  The younger man
stared at me and said, "You just sit quietly, okay?  I gotta
think."
     I looked at Walter.  He moved slightly.  "Walter,"  I
whispered.   He opened his eyes.  "Walter, Agent Mulder just
phoned."  He stared at me trying to comprehend.
     "Krycek..." Walter said and closed his eyes once more.  They
remained shut for a moment, but this time when he reopened them,
his eyes were focused on me and clear.

     "Krycek is by the fireplace,"  I said keeping my voice low. 
"I tried to get a message through to Mulder, but I think I was
too cryptic."  I looked at him, my eyes welled up with tears.  "I
should have just told him Krycek was here, and taken my chances."
     Walter raised his hand and touched my cheek.  "You did the
right thing, Beth.  Krycek is no one to play with."
     I turned my face into Walter's open hand and kissed it.  I
needed to feel his touch.  I needed his strength.
     Walter turned my face quickly back to his.  His soft brown
eyes were full of fury.  He raised my chin and examined my neck. 
"The bastard!"  Walter sat up on the couch.  "Krycek!" he
shouted.
     Alex Krycek stepped forward, gun ready in hand.  "Well, look
who is up and about," he said as he moved toward us.
     "What did you do to her?" Walter yelled.  I had never seen
him so furious.
     I moved closer to Walter and threw my arms around him.  "He
didn't do anything," I said.  But Walter didn't seem to hear me.
     "What did you do to her, you sorry son of a bitch?" he asked
again, anger accenting every syllable.
     Krycek grinned from ear to ear.  "I just had a taste of what
you've been getting all these years,"  he said as he pulled up
the zipper on his pants.
     I watched the color drain from Walter's face as he believed
the lie that Krycek told him.  
     "That's not true!"  I shouted at Krycek.  I took Walter's
face in my hands and turned it towards me.  "He's lying, Walter. 
Nothing happened." 
     Walter just stared at me.  "This is all my fault," he
whispered.  "He hurt you because of me."  He swallowed hard and
his eyes clouded over with hate.  "He raped you to get back at
me."
     I shook my head.  I had to get Walter to believe me.  He
moved toward Krycek but I held him back.  "He didn't rape me,
Walter."
     "Guess she enjoyed it more than I thought," Krycek stated. 
He was baiting Walter into a confrontation and it was working.
     "No. Nothing happened." I said again.  I had to stop Krycek.
     Walter moved me aside and stood up.  He was still unsteady
on his feet but was determined to get to the younger man.  "I
told you I'd kill you myself, boy."
     "Walter, please,"  I cried.  I threw myself between him and
Krycek.  "He tried to rape me, but he didn't go through with it. 
The phone call interrupted him."  I looked into Walter's eyes. 
"Stop and think for a moment.  He's baiting you.  He wants you to
attack him."  Walter stopped but still stared at Krycek. 
"Nothing happened.  He's playing on your guilt and your sense of
responsibility at not being able to prevent all this.  Don't let
him!"  Walter glanced down at me.   I was beginning to get
through to him. 
     "She's lying, Skinner," Krycek said.  "I took her right
there on the rug while you were passed out not two feet from us." 
Alex smiled and pulled back the hammer on the gun.  "She put up a
hell of a fight, too.  She even screamed for you to help her. 
But you were useless.  Just like I knew you'd be."
     Walter looked at me.  His face was full of pity and self
loathing.  "I'm sorry, Beth.  I'm sorry I let him hurt you." 
     "Walter, I've never lied to you before.  I'm not lying now. 
He did not rape me."  I looked over my shoulder at Krycek.  He
had the gun pointed right at Walter's chest.  "He didn't do
anything.  You have to believe me."  I looked back at Walter. 
"Please, don't let him hurt us now.  Please don't let him win."
     Krycek moved closer to me.  He ran his hand over my hair. 
"You know women, Skinner.  They'll say anything when they feel
their honor has been compromised."
     Walter stared from me to Krycek and back at me again.  "Get
out of the way, Beth," he said calmly.  "I'm going to finish this
now, once and for all."
     I shook my head, "No."
     "Move, Beth.  Move now!"  Walter yelled.
     I turned on my heel and threw myself into Alex Krycek.  I
pushed his gun hand up and out of the way as far as I could.  The
loud report of the shot rang out as we both tumbled backward and
fell against the stone fireplace.  Wood splinters, from the beams
above, showered down on us as Krycek put the gun to my head and
pulled back the hammer once more.  "The next bullet goes right
through her head!" he shouted at Walter.
     "Drop the gun Krycek!"  A male voice called out as the front
door flew open.  Into the room stepped a lanky dark haired man,
his gun was raised and pointed at Krycek. 
      He was followed closely by a petit redhead who also had her
gun drawn and Krycek in her sights.  "Do it now!  Let her go!"
she shouted as she moved farther into the room and stood at
Walter's right.
     I felt Krycek's grip around me tighten.  He was shaking. 
"Back off!  I'll kill her!  I swear I will!" the younger man
shouted.  He buried the barrel of the gun deep into my hair.  I
felt it graze against my scalp.
     "You're not walking out of here, Alex," Walter spoke.  His
voice was calm.  "There's no way any one of us is going to let
you take her out that door."  He stepped closer to us.
     "Listen to him, Krycek," the man I realized must be Agent
Mulder said as he moved to Walter's left.
     The three of them stood in a semi-circle around us.  There
was no way out.  I hoped Krycek would realized that but the young
man pulled me closer to him and pushed my head against his
shoulder.  "You won't do anything to risk your precious Beth,
Skinner," Alex Krycek countered.  "I told you that I know what
she means to you," he paused.  "You'd die for her, just like
she'd die for you.  And that's what's going to happen here today,
old man.  She's going to die unless you call off your two lap
dogs!"  
     "Sir?" The woman called to Walter.
     "Stand your ground, Agent Scully," Walter told her.  He
stepped closer to us again.  "No one's going to die here today,
Alex," Walter continued.  "Not Beth.  Not even you."  Walter
looked at me and smiled.  "It's over.  Let her go."
     Krycek pulled my head further into his shoulder.  His left
shoulder.  His injured shoulder.  I had to act now and act fast. 
I closed my eyes and snapped my head back, driving it into
Krycek's shoulder as hard as I could.  The force of my blow
pushed Krycek's shoulder back into the stone fireplace behind
him.  He cried out as the pain ripped through him.  I felt the
gun barrel glide through my hair as Walter grabbed the gun and
wrestled it from Krycek's hand.  The three of us fell to the
farmhouse floor.  Krycek let go of me and I rolled out of the way
as Walter struggled with the younger man.  
     Mulder and Scully were on Krycek instantly.  "It's over,
Krycek," Mulder said.  I watched as Krycek stopped fighting. 
Mulder moved forward and handcuffed him.  Walter handed Krycek's
gun to Mulder and looked at me.
     The enormity of the events of the past few hours suddenly
overcame me.  I started to shake uncontrollably, the tears
streamed down my cheeks.  Walter moved towards me.  He knelt down
beside me and wrapped his strong arms tightly around me.  I cried
and trembled as Walter's soothing voice reassured me over and
over again that everything was going to be all right.  


*****************************************************************
(End of Part Five)


From  Tue Jan 14 13:14:45 1997



                              IRONIC
                              (Part Six)


The Confrontation

     I awoke to the smell of disinfectant and recycled air. 
I felt the crisp, starched sheets that surrounded my body. 
Hospital.  I was still in the hospital. Disappointed, I
opened my eyes.  The room was dark, except for the bright
light that seeped in from the hallway, through the closed
door. I realized it must be very late.  I turned my head and
saw Walter, asleep in the chair to the right of my bed. 
Just as he had been every night, for the last four nights.
     He was slouched to the left.  His head propped up by
his right hand; his elbow placed precariously on the arm of
the chair.  He didn't look very comfortable.  Yet by his
soft snoring, I knew he was in a deep sleep.
     My mouth was incredibly dry.  I looked at the stand
beside the bed and saw the generic issue water jug.  I
reached out my hand toward it, but it was too far away.  I
put my hands on either side of my hips and pushed down to
move myself up into a sitting position. I moved too quickly
and I was not prepared for the sharp pain that shot through
my lower back.  "Damn it!" I said a little too loudly.
     Walter woke with a start.  He looked at me.  "What are
you trying to do?" he asked, still half asleep.  He sat up
straight, stretched and stepped to the side of my bed. 
"You're not supposed to move around on your own, Beth," he
admonished me.
     "I'm thirsty," I replied.  "I was trying to reach the
water jug."
     Walter picked up the jug and poured some water into a
plastic cup.  "You should have asked me to get it for you,"
he said as he held the cup for me and moved the straw to my
lips. 
     I drank the water eagerly. After three sips, I stopped
and said, "You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you."  
     Walter put the cup back on the stand.  He ran his hand
over my hair and smiled. "But you did, didn't you?"
     "Sorry," I said flatly.  
     Walter sat lightly on the edge of my bed. He leaned
over and kissed my forehead.  "You're forgiven."
     I looked up at him and sighed, "When do I get out of
here?"
     "You really make a lousy patient, Beth," Walter said as
he continued to stroke my hair. "I know it's hard just lying
here all day.  But," he paused, "I don't want you out of
here until I'm sure you're okay."
     "Scully said I could recuperate just as quickly at your
place,"  I countered. I started to sit up again, slowly. 
     Walter arched his eyebrows. "Oh she did, did she?" He
looked at me. "And just when did Dr. Scully make this
diagnosis?" he asked as he made sure I was comfortably
seated.
     "Dana and Agent Mulder were here this afternoon. We had
a nice visit. Fox mentioned that she was a doctor, so I
asked Scully to look at my chart and explain a few things.
About the bruise and what could happen if clots developed.
And most importantly why I was still in here, if no serious
internal damage was found."
     Walter looked at me strangely. "What did she say? Her
exact words, Beth." 
     I took a deep breath. "She said that according to my
chart, she could see no reason why I hadn't been released
today. All the care I really need now is bed rest. She said
that the anti-coagulants that I had been prescribed would
take care of any risk of further complications due to
clotting." I looked sternly at Walter.  "She said that I was
well on the road to recovery."
     Walter bit his bottom lip and looked at the floor. "I
think Agent Scully has said a little _too_ much." He did not
sound pleased.
     I reached up and turned Walter's face to mine. "Take me
home, Walter," I said simply.  "It's time I was out of
here."
     Walter looked back at me. He wore his serious assistant
director's face. "Not yet," he said. "Not until you talk to
someone."
     I stared back at him. I knew where he was going. "No,"
I said softly as I laid back down on the bed.  I
straightened the white sheet over my body, smoothing out all
the wrinkles within  reach.
     "Beth," Walter whispered. "You have to come to terms
with--"
     "With what?" I interrupted him.  We had had this same
conversation many times over the last few days. I didn't
want to talk about it anymore. What was the use when Walter
just refused to listen to me.
     Walter leaned forward and looked me straight in the
eye. "You have to come to terms with what happened to you at
the farmhouse."  His voice was low and calm.  "You _have_
to, Beth." It was a plea more than a statement of fact.
     I stared back at him.  "Nothing happened. Nothing
happened. Nothing happened!" I shouted. "How many times do I
have to tell you that?" I was totally frustrated. I covered
my face with my hands. I didn't want to look at him anymore. 
I didn't want to see. I felt Walter's strong arms fold
around me as he pulled me to his chest.  He held me close.
He ran his strong hands soothingly up and down my back. "I
just want to get out of here, Walter," I pleaded.  "I just
want to get back to normal."
     Walter stroked my hair. "That's what I want too, Beth,"
he said, his voice full of concern. "But denying that
Krycek--"
     "Don't....please don't make me..." I didn't want to
think about that night anymore.  I was sickened and angered
by his insistence that I remember events that I had worked
so very hard to forget.
     Walter leaned down and turned my face to his. "I want
you to talk to a counsellor, Beth. I'm serious."  He paused,
"I'll take you home with me tomorrow, if you promise me
you'll see a rape crisis counsellor."
     "I wasn't raped," I said simply. I looked at him. I
blinked back the tears that welled up in my eyes. "It would
be a complete waste of time talking to someone about
something that didn't happen."  I laid back down on the bed.
     "Agent Mulder gave me the name of one of the area's
finest doctors," Walter continued. "Though, it was short
notice, I made an appointment for us late tomorrow
afternoon."  He was determined to talk about this, no matter
how I felt.
     I stared at him.  "Scully said I was fine.  She said I
shouldn't even be in here anymore." I could feel the anger
rise in me. "Why would Fox Mulder give you the name of
someone for me to talk to?" I asked harshly.  I was puzzled.
"What does Mulder have to do with any of this anyway? He's
not a medical doctor."
     Walter took a deep breath. "I talked to Scully, too,
Beth.  You're right. Physically, you are healing." He paused
and looked at me sternly.  "But Mulder is as concerned as I
am about you, emotionally. He's studied psychology, Beth.
Here and overseas. He knows what he's talking about."
     I fixed him with a cold stare. "You make it sound like
I'm insane," I said, my voice hard. "Is that what you think,
Walter? Is that 'Dr. Sigmund' Mulder's analysis of me as
well?" I was getting more and more angry by the minute, and
I could no longer keep it from my voice. "Just how many
people have you been talking to about me, anyway?"
     Walter sighed. "That's not how it is, Beth."
     "Then why are you doing _this_?" I asked. I really
wanted to know. I wanted to understand why he was pushing me
so hard to do something that I did not want to do. 
Something that I felt I did not need to do.
     Walter looked at me for a moment. "I'm trying to help
you.  I'm trying to understand what you're feeling and
thinking," he said with genuine concern. "And because I
don't know what else to do or how to do it."  He paused. 
For a moment he looked like a lost little boy. Then I saw
his eyes cloud over. "I couldn't stop Krycek from attacking
you," he said ruefully. "I couldn't help you then. But I'm
here to help you now.  The only way I know how.  And if that
means pushing you everyday, if necessary, to talk to a
counsellor. Then damn it, Beth, that's just what I'll do! 
Even if you end up hating me. I won't stop until you talk to
someone about what happened to you." He took my face into
his hands and said with all sincerity, "I promise you, Beth.
I won't stop."
     I knew Walter was determined.  I knew he would do
exactly what he said. But I was determined, too. Determined
to go on with my life; to get back to normal. Rehashing the
events that we had gone through at the farmhouse was just a
waste of time as far as I was concerned.  We had both come
out of the incident safely. Neither one of us had been
seriously hurt. Alex Krycek was in custody, and we were no
longer in danger. There was no reason to dwell on the terror
that we had experienced. It was over. Over. It was best just
to forget it. Forget that the whole thing had ever happened. 
Why couldn't Walter see that? Why was he so set on making me
suffer through the whole thing over again by talking to some
counsellor? 
     "I don't agree with you," I began. "I don't believe I
need to see anyone about anything." I swallowed hard. I had
reached a decision. One that was the most difficult of my
entire life. I could feel the tears roll down my cheeks. But
I could not stop. I looked deep into his eyes. "I want you
to leave, Walter," I said calmly.
     "What?" Walter stared at me. Shock and disbelief
registered on his handsome face.
     "I want you to go," I said with conviction.
     Walter raised his right hand and touched my face. "You
don't mean that, Beth," he said. He smiled at me. "You're
just tired and you're still hurt. After a good night's
sleep, you'll look at things differently."
     I closed my eyes in frustration and shook my head.
"Walter, you're still not listening to me." I opened my eyes
and looked directly at him. "You still don't _hear_ me."
     Walter arched his eyebrows. "What are you talking
about? I've heard every word you've said."
     "But you don't listen to me, do you? I've told you
numerous times over these last few days that nothing
happened to me. I don't need to see or talk to anyone
because _nothing_ happened! So what is there to talk about?"
I breathed deeply and continued. "But you don't see it that
way. So you think I have to see things your way. Well I
don't, Walter. I don't have to. I'm not one of your agents
that you can just order around. I don't have to ask 'How
high?' when you say 'Jump!'."
     Walter held his jaw tightly and he narrowed his eyes.
"I've _never_ ordered you around, Beth. In all the years
we've been together, I've never demanded that you do
anything you didn't want to do."
     "Until now," I said flatly.
      From the look in his eyes I knew that I had hurt him
deeply with my words. But I couldn't think of Walter and his
feelings now. I was my only primary concern. Right now I had
to concentrate on me.
     We sat silently for a moment, studying each other. We
knew how stubborn the other could be. Both of us knew  
that we were at a crossroads. We could either get through
this together or we could let this incident tear us apart.
     Walter took my hand. "Whether you want to believe it or
not, the medical evidence proves that you were raped, Beth.
Krycek has even admitted to the attack. What you are going
through now is called 'denial'--"
     I pulled my hand from his grasp. "Get out!" I shouted.
"Do I have to tell you again?" I knew he could read the fury
in my eyes.
     Walter stood up. He looked down at me. "You're still
traumatized from the attack," he said simply. I didn't know
if he was trying to convince me or himself.
     I fixed him with an icy stare. I wanted him gone. "I
don't know how else to phrase it so that it gets through to
you. Go away, Walter! Leave me alone!" I screamed. I turned
onto my right side away from him.
     "I'll be back tomorrow. Early in the morning." I heard
Walter say as he walked to the door. "We'll talk some more
about you seeing a counsellor then." He opened the door. "I
told you before, Beth. I want to help you. And I promise, I
will. Even if you end up hating me." His words hung
ominously in the air. "Even if you end up hating me," he
repeated again as he closed the door behind him.


************************************************************



The Revelation


     "Are you sure you've finished with your breakfast tray,
Miss Rhys?" the nurse's aide asked me. "You haven't eaten a
thing."
     I continued to stare out the window. In other
circumstances I would have enjoyed the wonderful view of the
Potomac that my room offered. But this was my fifth day in
this hospital room and I no longer wanted to be here. I no
longer need to be here.
     "Miss Rhys?" The aide said again as she lightly touched
my shoulder.
     I glanced at her and said, "I drank the orange juice. I
don't want anything else." I looked back outside at
everything and nothing.
     "I don't blame you," a male voiced stated. "The toast
is all soggy. And I'm not even going to tell you what the
oatmeal reminds me of."
     The voice was familiar but I couldn't quite place it. I
turned and saw Fox Mulder standing by the aide. He held the
door open for the woman as she moved through it carrying my
abandoned breakfast tray. He then closed the door firmly and
pulled up a chair next to mine in front of the window.
     He sat down and grinned at me as he produced a paper
bag from the pocket of this overcoat. He began to unpack the
contents. "Bagels. Smuggled them in here fresh from Simon's.
Best the District has to offer. I got one poppyseed and one
sesame. Actually I had _two_ sesame bagels, but I wolfed one
down on the way here. And in addition to the usual cream
cheese, I got some peanut butter, too. I know how you
Canucks love the stuff."
     I looked at him. "Not this one," I said. I'm allergic
to peanuts."
     He shrugged and tossed the packet back into the bag.
"Cream cheese it is then," he said. He pulled a small white
container, plastic knifes and paper napkins from the bag and
put them on the interior ledge that ran the length of the
room along the window.
     "What are you doing here? I asked.
     "Breakfast," he answered simply. "Poppyseed or sesame?"
He held a bagel in each hand.
     Even though I wasn't hungry. I took the poppyseed bagel
from him and held it on my lap. "Why are you here?" I asked
again.
     Fox Mulder concentrated on cutting his bagel in half
and then spread a thick layer of cream cheese over each
piece. "I had an unexpected visitor at 2:19 this morning,"
he said as he took a big bite.
     "Oh," I said and looked out the window once more. So
that's where Walter had gone after I had forced him to
leave. I had lain in my hospital bed for hours unable to
sleep after our quarrel, wondering if I had done the right
thing. Later on I had phoned his place atleast five times
and eventually cried myself to sleep when he had not
answered my call.
     "He's really messed up," Mulder said as he finished the
first half of his bagel. "He doesn't know what he's doing
wrong." Fox picked up the other half and began to quickly
devour that as well.
     I looked back at Mulder. "That's Walter, all right.
Always taking personal responsibility for things that are
beyond his control." I picked up the bagel in my lap and
started to turn it over and over again in my hands.
     "Funny, Skinner said the exact same thing about you at
precisely 4:57 this morning," he said. Then added, "You know
that bagel tastes even better if you actually eat it."
     I glanced over at him. He was smiling at me, a
wonderfully open smile. It was like a child's smile really.
One of those grins that goes all the way from ear to ear. I
remembered seeing a smile like that a long time ago. "How
old are you?" I asked.
     I could tell my impulsive question startled him. "I'll
be 35 this coming October," he answered politely. "Why?"
     I smiled at him. "My little brother would have been 35
this year, too," I said and turned toward the window again.
I felt the tears well up in my eyes, but I was determined
not to give into them. I cleared my throat and tried to keep
my voice calm. "Danny died...twenty-nine years ago this
summer."  I don't know why but I felt that Fox Mulder
deserved some sort of explanation for my strange behavior.
     Mulder put his hand on my arm. "I know," he said. "A.D.
Skinner told me what happened and how you think you--"
     "Why would he tell _you_ about Danny?" I flashed him an
angry look. I was very upset that Walter had divulged such
personal information about me to a virtual stranger.
     "Because he's searching for a way to understand you.
And because I know what it's like to lose a sibling at a
very young age," Mulder answered calmly. He paused and I
could see his eyes cloud over as he recalled the painful
memory. "My little sister Samantha disappeared when I was
twelve," he said. "We still don't know what happened to her.
Whether she's alive or dead."
     I stared at the younger man seated next to me. I wanted
to say something to let him know that I understood his pain.
But "I'm sorry" seemed woefully inadequate. I took his hand
in mine. "It's tough being the one left behind," I
whispered. "I know my parent's lost their only son, but..."
I couldn't say anymore. The tears that I tried so hard to
fight started to run down my cheeks.
     We sat silently for a few minutes, just holding each
other's hand. Both of us knowing that the other really
understood what we had been through. Understood what we were
still experiencing and would experience forever.
     "Did Walter tell you that I threw him out of here?" I
finally asked as I dried my tears.
     Mulder leaned back in his chair. "Not in so many words.
But I figured something drastic had happened. Especially
when the first thing he asked me after I opened the door,
was if I had anything decent to drink."
      "I was very angry with him," I explained. "I said a
few things that I shouldn't have. It's not that I wanted to
hurt him. It's just that he wouldn't stop pushing me," I
paused and looked at Mulder. "Walter said that he made an
appointment with a counsellor that you recommended."
     "That's right," Mulder answered. "It's at 4:30 this
afternoon."
     "Why did you do that? Why did you tell him I needed to
talk to someone?" I asked sincerely.
     Mulder looked directly at me. "Because sometimes even
the most intelligent people don't see the obvious. It helps
if there's a trained impartial third party to guide the
way."
     "I don't need to talk to anyone about anything," I said
as I stared back at him. I wanted Mulder to understand that
I was serious.
     Mulder stood up and looked out the window. "It took me
along time to realize that I needed to talk to someone about
what happened to Samantha. I wasted a lot of years and
caused the people I loved most a lot of pain.  I know now
that most of that comes from pride and self-preservation. If
you don't think about it, it's not real."
     "My father used to say that whatever didn't kill you,
just made you stronger." I smiled at the irony of it. "Of
course, my father had a lot of old adages that he was always
spouting. Too bad he never practiced what he was constantly
preaching to others." I paused and continued, "We were never
allowed to talk about Danny after the funeral. But there
were many afternoons that I heard my father crying all alone
in his study downstairs. I tried to comfort him once. You
know, give him a hug. But he just got mad at me and told me
to leave him alone." I thought for a moment then added, "I'm
a lot like him in that respect, I guess. Though I don't care
to admit it."
     Mulder turned to face me. He leaned against the window
ledge. "We're all a product of nature and nurture," he
stated.
     "Psycho-babble?" I smiled.
     "Babble anyway. And a few people have called my
'psycho'. So draw your own conclusions." He looked at me and
smirked.
     "Walter asked you to come see me, didn't he?" I shook
my head. "He just doesn't understand that all I need right
now is to get out of here."
     Mulder folded his arms across his chest. "Actually," he
began, "it was my idea to come here and talk to you this
morning." He read the disbelief in my eyes and quickly
added, "Honest."
     "Why?" I asked him.
     "Because A.D. Skinner is very concerned about you. And
I'm very concerned about him," Mulder said simply.
     I studied Mulder's face. He was truly worried. Suddenly
I felt the old familiar fear rise in my stomach. "What's the
matter with Walter?" I asked nervously. Had the blow that he
suffered that night caused more damage than he had let on? I
had been so wrapped up in myself and my pain that I had
failed to consider that Walter could be hurt as well.
     "You weren't the only victim at the farmhouse, Beth.
You weren't the only one who suffered," he responded. "He
feels terribly responsible for what you've been through.
He's hurting. 
And the only way he can heal is to help you. And you won't
let him."
     I glared at him. "Nothing happened at the farmhouse," I
said firmly.
     "That's not what it looked like when Scully and I got
there. As I remember it Krycek had a gun to your head. It
looked like he'd worked you over pretty good, too. You were
terrified." He stopped and stared at me. "Skinner was, too."
     I looked away from him. Why was Mulder doing this? What
did he hope to accomplish?
     "If nothing happened as you keep saying, then why did
you feel the need to ask for our help? Why did you risk
further injury from Krycek by getting a message through to
me and Scully?" he asked.
     I looked down at my hands. "I...I had to. I had to get
him to stop."
     "Stop what?"
     I closed my eyes. "I had to get Krycek to stop hurting
us," I said slowly. " I had to get him to stop."
     Mulder sat down on his haunches in front of me. He
raised my chin. "And you did. That conversation you had with
me on the phone was brilliant!"
     I opened my eyes and stared at him. I was puzzled by
his praise.
     Mulder smiled. "The more I think about the whole thing,
the more I realize that no one could have done any better in
such a short amount of time. No one," he repeated.
"Referring to A.D. Skinner as 'Wally' was sheer genius. It
was so subtle and yet so clear."
     "What are you talking about?" I asked.
     Mulder straightened to his full height and looked at me
strangely. "The S.O.S. The clue in the phone call. You do
remember speaking with me on the phone that night, don't
you?"
     I nodded. "Yes, but I don't understand what you're
talking about. Who called Walter 'Wally'?"
     "Well, you did," Mulder answered. "At least four or
five times. That's what let me know that something was
wrong."
     "No one calls Walter that," I said with certainty.
     "Exactly, that's what made it so brilliant," he said.
     "I don't remember doing that," I stated. "The clue I
used was saying that the place belonged to _your_ mother's
relative, not Scully's."
     Mulder raised his eyebrows. "Really?" He shrugged then
said, "Whatever it was, the message came through. Our
conversation did happen. Even if you don't recall doing it,
_you did_ call A.D. Skinner 'Wally'. Just like you said the
farmhouse belonged to my mother's family, not Scully's. Even
though _I_ don't remember that." He looked at me knowingly.
     I leaned back in my chair and studied him. Fox Mulder
was the _only_ truly brilliant person in this room.
     "Perspective and selective memory," I said simply.
     "Looks like I'm not the only fan of psycho-babble." He
smiled and added, "Skinner said you were smart."
     I didn't feel very intelligent. I felt lost and lonely.
I missed Walter terribly. "What do I do now?" I asked.
     "What do you want to do?" Mulder countered.
     I sighed. "I want to see Walter. I need to talk to him.
But  after the way I treated him last night, I'm probably
the last person he wants to see."
     "Why don't I ask him?" Mulder said as he headed toward
the doorway. "He's waiting in the visitor's lounge down the
hall."



************************************************************



The Renewal


     I was almost afraid to look at him when Walter entered
my hospital room. I felt so ashamed of my actions the night
before. He looked tired and worn but he smiled broadly as he
sat down in the chair next to me.
     "It's nice to see you out of that hospital bed, Beth,"
he said. He leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Your color is
back to normal, too."
     I looked at him. He was so wonderful. I didn't deserve
him. "I'm really sorry, Walter," I said truthfully. "I don't
know why I did what I did last night."
     Walter smiled back at me. "It's okay, Beth," he said.
"I'm tough, I can take it."
     I touched his cheek. "No, you're not. You're hurting as
much as I am. I'm sorry for not realizing that before. I
should never have taken out my pain on you."
     Walter took my hand in his. "I'm sorry, too, Beth. I'm
sorry for pushing you so hard. I should have known when to
back off."
     I gazed into his gentle brown eyes. "We both could sit
here all day and say 'should have'. We've both always been
pretty stubborn. We both thought we were doing the right
thing at the time." I studied his handsome face. "You look
awfully tired. Mulder told me you went to his place after I
kicked you out of here last night. Did you get any sleep at
all?"
     "I caught maybe an hour on Mulder's couch." He looked
deep into my eyes. "I've done a lot of thinking, Beth," he
said seriously. "All last night and this morning out there
in the visitors lounge. I want you to come home with me. I
want you to come home with me today. Right now."
     "Really?" I asked. I couldn't believe what he had just
said. I had been waiting for days to hear those words.
Relief washed over me. But I was afraid, too. "Is my release
from the hospital tied to the appointment with the
counsellor this afternoon?" I asked tentatively.
     Walter shook his head. "Not if you don't want it to
be," he responded.
     I squeezed his hand and smiled gratefully at him.
     "I still think we should go," he said. "But the final 
decision will be up to you."


          ***            ***            ***            ***


     I stepped from the shower and wrapped a bath sheet
around my body. I felt better than I had felt in days. It
was so freeing to be out of the hospital. I had taken my
first step on the road to getting back to normal. And it
felt good.
     I wiped the steam from the mirror and studied my
reflection. The bruises on my neck were fading. Soon they'd
be only a memory. A bad memory I would try very hard to
forget. During my shower, I had checked out the cuts and
bruises on my left breast. They were still highly visible.
Krycek's fingers had dug deeply into my flesh and these
contusions would not disappear so quickly. But I took heart
in the fact that they would eventually heal. And then I'd be
able to forget about them, too. I silently vowed that I
would.
     I left the bathroom and walked down the hall to
Walter's bedroom. He was already in bed. Lying on his back,
his right arm was draped lazily across my pillow.  By his
soft snoring, I knew he was fast asleep. The clock radio on
the nightstand read 11:46 a.m. I walked quickly to my side
of his bed and pulled back the comforter and climbed in. I
took off my towel and threw it onto the wooden chair that
sat by the window. Suddenly I was very cold. I tugged the
comforter up around me. I was determined and ready for step
two.
     I moved closer to Walter. The body heat that radiated
from him warmed me instantly. I had missed the physical
closeness that we always shared. But I was nervous lying
here. I hoped that all memory of Krycek and the attack at
the farmhouse would soon be replaced. In the hospital, I had
sworn I'd create new memories. Ones that would sustain me
and make me strong again. I prayed that I would soon have
sweet new memories of making love with a man I truly
respected and trusted completely. A man who felt the same
way about me.
     I ran my hand over his muscular chest. He stirred
slightly. I put my head on his shoulder and snuggled in.
Walter wrapped his strong arms around me and pulled me even
closer to him. I looked up and kissed the cleft on his chin.
     "What time is it?" he asked sleepily.
     I moved my hand from his chest and stroked his face.
"It's almost noon. Go back to sleep. We both had a hell of a
night."
     Walter took my face in his hands. "Not just yet," he
said as he kissed me. It was a sweet gentle kiss, yet
passionate as well. "I missed you, Bethany," he said. "I
missed you in my bed."
     Our mouths found each other and we kissed again and
again. Each more intense then before. Walter pulled my naked
body on to his own. I laid my head on his chest. Walter ran
his hands up and down my back. His touch was soft and
gentle. Any doubts that I had had about resuming physical
contact with him quickly disappeared. It felt good and right
to be here with him. To be back in his bed. I had craved his
touch, but I had been worried. I had been too afraid to ask
him if he felt differently about me now. But from the way he
touched me, I knew Walter still wanted me. By the responses
my own body was experiencing, I knew I wanted him, too.
     I could feel his bulge thicken and grow beneath me. The
overwhelming urge to feel him inside me became very strong.
I reached down with my right hand and began to stroke him.
Walter moved his hands farther down my back and began to
knead my buttocks. I looked up at him. Desire was in his
eyes. We kissed again. I rubbed my hips into his. I needed
him. I wanted him. I increased the pressure of my touch. His
cock stiffened. I parted my legs slightly and Walter's hand
moved to my inner thigh. Tenderly he stroked my cunt lips.
Each touch sent tiny electric shocks through me. I spread my
legs wider and Walter inserted two fingers into me. I
tightened my muscles around them, but I wanted more. I
wanted to feel his thick penis in me. I needed him deep
inside me, making me whole again.
     Walter was almost at full erection. He moaned my name
over and over again as he kissed my mouth, my neck and
shoulders. I rubbed his cock roughly. Its shaft grew even
thicker and started to throb. I stared at him. He pulled me
into a deeply, penetrating kiss. "Inside me," I whispered,
"Walter, I need to feel you inside me."
     He gently rolled me onto my back and lowered himself
over me. I spread my legs and helped guide his big cock into
me. I had waited so long for us to be close again. Our
reunion was even better than I had expected. Walter moved in
and out of me slowly. He was hesitant. I opened my eyes and
looked at him again. I knew what he was thinking. "You won't
hurt me," I said. "I know you love me."
     Walter's eyes shone brightly. "I do, you know. I never
said it before. But I do love you, Beth," he replied.
     I smiled at him and pulled him close to me and kissed
him. Our bodies soon fell into a primal rhythm. I matched
Walter's thrusts eagerly with my own, trying to lose myself
and the pain of the last few days in our lovemaking. I felt
Walter plunge deep inside me. I raised my hips and wrapped
my long legs tightly around him.
      "Faster. Harder," I moaned. I ran my fingernails down
his back, scratching his skin. Marking him as mine. The
intensity of our coupling increased. I could feel and hear
Walter's rapid breathing in my ear. He said my name over and
over again as he kissed my neck. I was totally enthraled by
him and his body. I closed my eyes, ready to lose myself in
an erotic haze.
     He was on top of me. Pumping deeper and deeper into me.
I felt the weight of his entire body on my own. He was so
heavy. I couldn't move. He pushed himself into me faster and
faster. Tearing at the insides of my body. Driving himself
farther and farther into me. Hurting me. Hurting me. I
couldn't breathe. I'm going to die. He's hurting me. He's
hurting me!
     "Get off! Get off me!" I screamed. Panic and fear raced
through me. I beat my fists into his chest. "You're hurting
me! Get off!" I screamed again. I fought him, kicking and
screaming. Hitting his face and shoulders with my hands. I
couldn't breathe. I felt him pin my arms at my side. I
couldn't move them. He's going to kill me. I kicked wildly,
trying to get away. Trying to survive. But he threw his
heavy body down on mine. He was yelling at me. Screaming
words that I couldn't hear. Words I couldn't understand.
Except for my name, he was calling my name.
     "Beth! For Christ's sake, Bethany! It's me. It's
Walter!" he shouted. "It's Walter, Beth! You're here in bed
with me."
     I opened my eyes. Walter was on top of me. His lip was
bleeding. He stared at me, his eyes full of confusion and
concern. "Do you know where you are?" he asked me. "Do you
know who I am?"
     I nodded slowly. I felt the tension leave my body as
the reality of my surroundings hit me. I started to sob
uncontrollably. I was so frightened. So ashamed. Walter
moved to my side and held me close. He ran his hands over my
hair.
     "I'm sorry, Walter. I'm so sorry," I cried over and
over again.
     "Shhhh," Walter said soothingly as he tried to comfort
me. "It'll be all right, Beth. You'll be all right."
     I started to shake and cry harder than I had for years.
I breathed deeply and tried to steady my voice. "I'm afraid,
Walter," I managed to say. "I'm afraid I'm never going to be
all right again." I buried my head into his shoulder and
trembled.
     Walter stroked my back and held me closely in his
strong arms for several minutes. He then kissed my forehead
and raised my face to his. He looked deeply into my eyes.
"Say it, Beth," he whispered to me. "I've learned that I
can't say it for you. This is something that you have to do
yourself."
     I gazed back at him. His soft brown eyes were pleading
with me. Urging me not to withdraw further into myself, but
to take a step forward. I knew he was right. I couldn't hide
the pain inside myself anymore. I couldn't hide from the
truth of that night forever. I reached up and wiped the
blood from the corner of his mouth with my fingertips. I was
so remorseful I had hit him that I could barely speak.
     "I...I need help," I said slowly. "I can't deal with
this on my own anymore. It's not working. I'm just making
everything worse." I stopped then added, "For both of us." I
paused and took a deep breath. "I really think we should
keep that appointment with the counsellor this afternoon," I
said through a steady stream of tears.



************************************************************


(End of Part Six)


From  Tue Jan 14 13:15:30 1997


                        IRONIC  
                        (Part Seven)




The Session



     Dr. Janet Solomon looked at me with kind eyes. "Is what
Walter just said true, Beth?"
     I looked out the window. The sky was grey. It was raining
outside. Walter and I had been in her office for over 30 minutes.
I hadn't said much. I let Walter answer all her questions about
things that had to do with the both of us. When I did have to 
speak, I used only words that were absolutely necessary. I did
not feel comfortable here. I still didn't want to be here, even
though deep down I knew it was necessary.
     She cleared her throat and asked again, "Is it true, Beth?"
     I didn't look at her. It was rush hour Thursday evening in
the District of Columbia. The streets below were alive with cars.
I watched as their headlights reflected off the wet, glistening
pavement. How deceptively pretty it made the world look. "Yes, I
panicked," I finally said. "But it's understandable, don't you
think?"
     Dr. Solomon's voice was soft and gentle. "Of course it is.
From what Walter has told me, you've both been through a terrible
ordeal."
     I turned and looked at the blonde woman. "Well, it's over
now. And I just want to forget it. That's why we're here. So you
can help me forget."
     Dr. Solomon sat silently for a moment. "I'm afraid that you
have the wrong impression of what crisis counselling is all
about, Beth," she stated. "The object is not to forget, but to
learn to come to terms with what has happened to you. By talking
about it and examining and re-examining your feelings."
     I stared at her. I was totally shocked. "How the hell is
that supposed to help?" I asked. The more I thought about her
textbook response the angrier I got. "I already know what
happened to me," I said sternly. "It was horrible. And it's
affected me far more than I was willing to admit at first, too.
But I've accepted that now and I just want to get beyond all
this. Sitting around rehashing everything over and over again is
not going to make me feel any better."
     "How do you feel now?" Dr. Solomon asked.
     "Awful," I said honestly. "I just feel awful." I looked at
Walter. He was sitting to the doctor's right. He watched me
intently. I read the worry and pain in his eyes. I looked back at
Janet Solomon. "I'm so ashamed. I can't believe I hit him. I
can't believe that I freaked out like I did when we were in bed
this afternoon." I could feel the tears well up in my eyes again.

     "Is that all?" she asked as she scribbled on a notepad that
she balanced on her knee.
     "Isn't that enough?" I countered. "I hit Walter, for heaven
sakes. That's not normal. I'm scared! I'm scared I'll do it
again." I breathed deeply. "I just want to get back to normal. I
am going to get back to normal, aren't I?"
     Dr. Solomon looked at me. "Have a seat please, Beth. Take
the chair next to Walter." She sat silently and waited. I really
didn't want to sit down, but something in the tone of her voice
told me that I should do as she requested.
     I walked across the room and sat down. I looked at Walter.
He smiled at me and took my hand. I felt stronger because he was
with me. I turned back and faced Dr. Solomon.
     She leaned towards me and handed me a piece of paper. It was
folded in two. "First of all, I want you to read what I've
written on this paper later tonight. After dinner sometime. No
sooner. You can share it with Walter or you can keep it to
yourself. It's up to you." She smiled at me.
     I folded the paper once more and put it into the back pocket
of my jeans. "Okay. I'll read it tonight," I replied.
     "Good," she said simply. "Now, I want you to listen very
carefully to what I have to say." She paused and looked at me
seriously. "I'm not going to lie to you, Beth. You are never
again going to be the same as you were before the attack. No
person alive could come through what you have and not be affected
by it in some way. But with therapy and time, you _will_ be
normal again. It will just be a _different normal_ than before."
She leaned over and touched my arm. "Do you understand what I've
just told you?"
     I stared at her. I couldn't believe what I just heard. It
was not what I wanted to hear. But I understood her completely.
It was something that deep inside I already knew.
     Walter squeezed my hand. "Beth..." I heard the concern in
his voice.
     I couldn't stop staring at Dr. Solomon. "Take me home,
Walter," I said without looking at him. "For God's sake, take me 
home."



*****************************************************************



The Decision



     I lay awake in the dark staring into the blackness. The
clock on the vcr that stood atop the television set read 3:15
a.m. I had yet to fall asleep. I moved my legs again and
stretched them out fully, hitting the arm of the couch. It had
been my decision to spend the night out in the living room.
Walter had not been pleased about the sleeping arrangements that
I had forced upon him. During the first hour after we had turned
in, he had come to me three times and asked me to return to his
bed. Each time I had flatly refused. As much as I needed to be
with him, I did not trust myself sleeping next to Walter anymore.
I desperately did not want a replay of the events of the previous
afternoon. 
     Trying to find a comfortable position, I turned over and lay
flat on my back. I stared at the ceiling. I missed Walter
terribly. I ached to have him near me. I ached to be next to him.
Though countless times I had thought of leaving my self-imposed
exile on the couch and climbing back into his bed and reclaiming
my place beside him, I did not. I could not let myself. I had to
get through this first night alone. If I could do that, I tried
to convince myself that future solitary nights that followed
would be easier and less painful to encounter. I pulled Walter's
red tee-shirt that I wore as a nightgown closer around me. I
buried my face into my shoulder, taking in his scent that covered
the garment. Breathing him deep into my soul. This was as near to
Walter as I would allow myself. It would just have to sustain me.
     I rolled over on to my right side again. Sleep just would
not come to me tonight. I couldn't turn off my mind. All the
events of the last week flashed before me. I relived every
moment, every emotion. The joy and elation of being with Walter
again after so many months apart always gave way to the terror
and pain of the attack. I experienced again the fright that I
felt when Walter realized what Krycek had done to me. The total
fear and panic that Krycek would kill Walter, as Walter
confronted him, consumed me with the same intensity as it had
that night. The circular pattern of my thoughts concluded as the
entire conversation in Dr. Solomon's office played over and over
again in my head. Always ending with the same refrain. Echoing.
Taunting me. "Never the same. Never the same". I would never be
the same again.
      I looked at the vcr clock once more. It was now almost 3:30
a.m. My co-workers in Paris would all be at the Embassy by now.
Paris. This was the first time in days, that even I thought of
Paris. When I had been hospitalized, Walter had phoned to tell 
them that I would not be returning to France the following day as
planned. Without going into too much detail, but giving just
enough information so that they knew I was injured, though not
critically, Walter had handled everything for me. I received a
two week emergency medical leave with an option for extension if
need be. Walter had told me he promised that I would telephone
myself as soon as I possibly could. It was now after 8:30 a.m in
Paris. Since I was wide awake and not the least bit sleepy there
was no time like the present, I decided.
     I rose from the couch. Taking one of the blankets with me, I
walked across the dark room to the double pedestal desk. I sat in
the big leather wingback chair, wrapped the blanket close around
me for warmth and switched on the desk lamp. I picked up the
phone and dialled the private office number of my supervisor at
the Canadian Embassy in Paris. I waited for the familiar voice.
He answered on the fourth ring.


     "Gilles Bertrand. 'Allo." He was using his most professional
tone. The one I always teased him mercilessly about.
     "Hey, Bertie. How goes the battle?" I keep my voice as light
as I could.
     "Bethany! Comment c'est va?" His voice relaxed noticeably.
He sounded very pleased to hear from me.
     "No fair, B. I asked you first," I responded.
     "This place is falling apart without you," he said through
his thick Quebecois accent.
     "Ah, you always do say what a girl likes to hear." I teased.
     "It is how you say," he paused looking for the right English
words, "part of my charm."
     I laughed and waited for the inevitable question. I knew him
well. He did not disappoint me. 
     "You are soon coming home, non?"
     I took a deep breath and answered him slowly. "No, Gilles,"
I said. "I'm not coming back to Paris."
     It seemed like many minutes passed. All I could hear was the
hum of the international phoneline.
     "You must be serious," he finally replied. "You call me
Gilles." Disappointment and puzzlement was evident in his voice.
"Pourquoi?"
     "My heart's not in it anymore," I answered sadly but
truthfully. "I phoned to tell you of my decision to quit in
person. I didn't want you to read it in a letter."
     "Your friend, when he call he say you are hurt." He sounded
very concerned.
     "I'm fine now," I lied. I didn't want anyone else to worry
about me.
     "Then take un autre week. Un autre mois. There is non need
to resign." He countered.
     "Yes, there is," I replied strongly. "I've made up my mind,
Bertie." I paused. "I won't be back."
     "Non?"
     "No." I breathed deeply and continued, "I'll hire some
movers and have them ship my things back here. Please tell
Marcelle that she and her boyfriend can take over the rest of the
lease on my apartment if they are interested. I know she always
loved the place. My lease is good until September of 98."
     "I will tell her," he paused. "Bethany, you take a transfer.
Une autre ambassade?" He asked hopefully.
     "No," I replied. "I don't want a transfer. I won't be going
to another embassy. I'm quitting," I said with conviction. "I'm
quitting everything."
     He sighed. "D'acore," he said simply. I could tell he knew I
would not be persuaded to change my mind.
     "Thank you, Bertie. You've been a good friend." I really did
not have anything else to say. "And don't worry, I'll keep in
touch," I added as an appeasement.
     "Bon chance mon amie," he said sincerely.
     "To you, too. Bye." I hung up the phone. I sat silently for
awhile, clutching my knees to my chest. Making that phone call
had been one of the hardest things I had ever had to do. But now
that it was over I felt a great sense of relief. I'd never have
to face those people again. I'd never have to explain the changes
that now were so evident in me. 
     "Beth?"
     I looked toward the hallway. Walter was standing there
wearing the black silk boxer shorts that I had sent him for
Christmas. He stared at me, his arms folded across his chest.
     "I didn't mean to eavesdrop," he apologized. "I heard you
talking and..."
     I smiled at him. "It's okay, Walter." I paused, then
explained. "I couldn't sleep and I knew I could catch Gilles at
the Embassy now, so I phoned. I should have done it days ago, but
I wasn't ready." I looked at him closely, he seemed upset. "I'll
reimburse you the cost of the call," I added.
     "To hell with that!" he said quickly. "Did I hear right? Did
you really resign?" He gazed at me and I saw the fear grow in his
eyes. "Beth," he began, "when you said you were quitting
everything, did that include me, too?" 
     I shook my head. "No, unless you don't want me anymore," I
answered slowly. "I know that it has been hell for you to deal
with me these last few days. But I'm really starting to feel like
I can get through all this, you know. I'm starting to get control
of things."
     "By quitting? Was that wise? You put in a lot of years,
Beth. I'd hate to see you throw it all away." He walked towards
me and stopped at the side of the chair. He put his hand on my
shoulder. "I just hope you didn't make a decision that you'll
regret later."
     I rose to my feet and looked up at him. "My only regret is
how I've been treating you lately. For that I am truly sorry." I
looked deep into his eyes.
     Walter didn't say a word. He reached up and touched my face.
It was a gentle touch. He raised my chin and kissed me. A sweet,
loving kiss but a passionate one as well. I fell into his
embrace. We kissed again more intensely.
     Walter looked deep into my eyes. "I need you beside me,
Beth. Come to bed."
     "I'm afraid," I said simply. I read the worry that my
statement brought to his eyes.
     "Are you afraid of me? Are you afraid I'll hurt you?" he
asked, his voice shaky.
     "No. Walter, I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of me. I'm
scared of what I'll do," I took a deep breath. "I'm terrified
that sometime during the night you'll touch me and I'll lash out
at you. I don't ever want to hurt you again like I did
yesterday."
     Walter held me close to him. "We'll get through this, Beth.
We'll get through this together," he whispered. Walter lifted my
face to his. Again we kissed, soft and slow and deep. He then
moved away from me and looked into my eyes. "Come to bed, Beth,"
he said. "Come to bed. We've both been afraid for too long."
     Walter took my hand and I let him lead me into his bedroom.
As much as I wanted and needed him, I was still apprehensive. As
if he read my mind, Walter pulled me to him. He held me close. "I
trust you, Beth," he said simply. Walter ran his hands over my
hair. "We'll take things slow. Get re-acquainted," he said
softly. "We don't have to have intercourse. There are other ways
that we can make love and be close. Until you're ready for more."
     I looked at him. I loved him so much, but I was still
fearful. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Will that be enough for you?
     Walter smiled at me sweetly. He took my face in his hands.
"Let me show you," he said. He kissed me full on the mouth,
passionately. He then placed numerous kisses up and down my neck,
running his hands down my back. Our mouths found each other again
and we kissed once more. Walter moved his hands to the hem of his
cotton tee-shirt that I wore. He pulled it up over my body
slowly, all the while kissing me intensely. I stepped back from
him and Walter tugged the shirt over my head. He tossed the red
garment to the floor.
     I stood before him wearing only my champagne silk panties.
"You're so beautiful, Beth," he said. "I'll always want you
beside me." He took me into his arms. We kissed again. Skin on
skin we held onto each other. Walter moved me toward his bed. "We
can just hold each other all night, if that's what you want,
Beth," he looked at me with genuine love. "As long as you're with
me that's all I care about. All I know is that my bed's too big
without you next to me."
     I reached up and touched his face. "I missed you tonight," I
said as I ran my hands down his muscular shoulders and across his
chest. "I need to be next to you, too, Walter. I ached for you
all night trying to sleep out there on the couch alone." I kissed
him and leaned against him. 
     Walter stroked my back and kissed my forehead. We stood
holding each other for several minutes. Walter then lifted my
chin and turned my face to his. "We better try to get some sleep,
it's almost 5 a.m."
     I nodded at him and smiled. Walter pulled back the comforter
on his bed and climbed in. "Come here," he said. "Let me hold
you, Beth."
     I crawled into bed and settled into Walter's strong open
arms. I felt so safe and so comfortable as Walter wrapped me in
his loving embrace. I truly belong here, I thought as I lay
sleepily snuggled next to him. This is where I truly belong.




*****************************************************************




The Recovery 


     I was totally amazed at how easily I had fallen into a
definite domestic routine. Every weekday morning after I kissed
Walter goodbye as he left for the Bureau, I did some sort of
household chore like laundry, marketing, dusting for an hour or
two. I also marvelled at the fact that I enjoyed looking after
the household and Walter. Somehow before, I had viewed all these
necessary but tedious tasks as completely boring and mindless.
But now they gave me purpose and a sense of accomplishment. After
my duties of the morning were done, at precisely 10:45 I drove to
my daily counselling session with Dr. Solomon. Afternoons were my
freetime. Sometimes I'd join Walter for lunch. Sometimes I'd just
go shopping or go straight home and read. Other times I'd visit a
different memorial everyday. I studied and travelled D.C. and
it's immediate area. But every evening I made sure that I was
home in plenty of time to have dinner ready for Walter. I was
content. I was happy. I was playing "Suzie Homemaker" and I loved
it.
     I also spent every night with Walter in his bed. All my
fears of hurting him again in a hysterical fit proved to be
unfounded. Though we still had not had intercourse, we explored
each other's bodies. As Walter had promised, we took it slow. We
stimulated and satisfied each other both manually and orally.
Each time we went a little bit further. Each time I was less and
less anxious and worried. Soon I knew we'd be making love again.
Soon everything between us would be fine.
     But I was not fooling myself. I knew the most important
thing I did every weekday was attend my counselling session with
Dr. Solomon. It was slow going at first. There were too many
things that I was uncomfortable about facing and admitting about
myself. But after three weeks, I could now honestly say that I
felt I was making real progress. I now trusted Janet Solomon
completely. I even liked her some. It was such a relief for me to
know that no matter what I said, did, or told her about myself
and my life, that she did not judge me. As she had reminded me
numerous times in the previous weeks, she was only there to help
guide me toward a path on which I could heal. But it was a path
that I had to choose for myself and I'd find that path when I was
ready.  
     The biggest breakthrough came four days ago when Walter was
there. He attended every second or third counselling session with
me. The two of us were in a heated discussion about what
constituted "rape". Up until that point I had still sincerely
believed that Alex Krycek did not rape me. I knew he had sexually
assaulted me and that the attack had been vicious. But he had not
ejaculated because the phone call from Agent Mulder had
interrupted him. Even the medical report of my examination had
proved that there had been no semen found. So to me this fact
just reinforced my conclusion that no rape had taken place.
Walter, of course, could not believe that I was still clinging to
such a false idea. He was looking at Krycek's attack on me from a
legal standpoint. He reminded me that he knew the law and
according to the statute, Krycek did rape me. Plus he had
Krycek's sworn statement admitting to the rape as well. What more
did I need he had wondered. We had both looked to Dr. Solomon.
     She had sat silently for a few moments then looked at me
directly. "Did you want Alex Krycek to make sexual advances
towards you, Beth?" she had asked.
     "No, of course not!" I had answered.
     "Did you give him permission to fondle you, kiss you or
touch you in anyway?"
     "No."
     "When this man forced himself on you, did you enjoy it? When
he pushed himself into you and hurt you, did you want that?"
     "No!" I had shouted. "I did not want him near me. I did not
want him to touch me. But I couldn't stop him."
     "Then you were raped Beth," she had said the words slowly.
"He forced himself on you. He penetrated you both with his hand
and his penis. You had not consented to any of his actions. And
semen or no semen present makes no difference. You were viciously
assaulted, Beth. You were raped."
     I had cried for hours after that session. Walter took the
afternoon off and spent the entire time just holding me. I had
hit rock bottom as the realization of what actually did happened
at the farmhouse began to finally get through to me. In those
first few desperate hours of that afternoon, I had thought I'd
never recover. The last tiny thread of hope that I had clung to
so tightly had unravelled quickly in my hands. But later, when I
had no more tears left to cry I felt a sudden, urgent need to say
out loud what I had been denying for so long.
     We had been sitting on the couch in the living room.
Walter's strong arms were wrapped protectively around me. I
raised my head from his shoulder and looked into his soft brown
eyes. He had smiled sweetly down at me and wiped away the tears
that were drying on my cheeks with his big hands. I took a deep
breath. "He raped me," I had said simply. Walter just nodded and
pulled me close to him again. "Alex Krycek raped me," I repeated.
     Once I had said that I was filled with a sense of relief and
release. But I was also totally exhausted physically, mentally
and emotionally. Even though it was not quite dinner time, I had
a desperate need for sleep. Walter had tucked me into bed and
held my hand until I had fallen asleep. The next morning I had
awoken to a different me. I was still upset and angered by what
had happened to me but I had also survived the knowledge of it
all. From that day on I knew deep inside that I eventually would
be okay. I knew I had the strength to come to terms with all that
happened. I knew I had the strength to heal. With Walter and 
Janet Solomon to help me, I knew I'd be able find myself again.


          ***            ***            ***            ***


     I pulled my hand from the oven and squeezed the sponge into
the pail of blackened water at my side. The gleaming interior of
the appliance shone back at me. "I bet he hasn't cleaned this
since he moved in," I said aloud with certainty. I tossed the
sponge into the bucket and picked up a cloth rag. I dried the
entire inner surface of the oven. I was very pleased with my
handiwork as I rose to my feet and shut the oven door. I picked
up the pail and walked to the kitchen sink. I spilled the dirty
water down the drain and removed the rubber gloves I wore.  A
quick look at the kitchen clock told me it was almost 9:30 a.m.
Time to hit the shower and get ready for my appointment with Dr.
Solomon.
     I walked down the hall toward the bathroom. I removed the
elastic band from my hair and ran my fingers through the loose
dark strands. As I passed the bedroom door the telephone rang. I
detoured into the room and picked up Walter's bedside extension. 
     "Hello."
     "Beth, this is Janet Solomon."
     "Hi, Doc. What's up?" Then realizing what I just said I
added, "Sorry."
     Dr. Solomon laughed heartily. "That really was very funny,
Beth," she said. "I just wanted to tell you in person that I'm
really sorry, but I won't be able to make our appointment today.
Something that just can't be avoided has come up and I wanted to
let you know. Are you okay with that?"
     I thought for a moment. A whole entire day to myself.
"Sure," I answered. "I've got lots to keep me busy. I was going
to hit the Smithsonian right after today's session anyway, since
Walter is really busy and can't make lunch. So I guess I'll just
get an earlier start."
     "All right, then. I'll see you Monday."
     "Monday's fine. Bye." I hung up the phone.
     I stood for a few moments and looked around the room. What
was I going to do? I had been so reliant on the routine that I
had been living by every weekday these last few weeks, that
momentarily I felt lost.
     I finally decided that I would not go to the Smithsonian
earlier that I had planned. I would have plenty of time to
explore the sections that interested me this afternoon. I wanted
to be outside in the fresh air. I quickly changed into a tanktop
and shorts. The day was bright and sunny. I grabbed the book that
I had started to read two days ago, from the dresser and headed
to the backyard.
     Walter's yard looked out over the common park area that was
surrounded by all the individual condo units. I sat in his big
green wrought-iron lounge chair and was soon lost in a world that
Anne Rice created full of witches, sex and mystery in romantic
New Orleans. The time past quickly as I devoured page after page
totally caught up in the lives of Michael and Rowan and a ghostly
figure called Lasher.
     The sun rose higher in the sky as I read on and on. I must
have been lost in the novel for well over an hour when I smelled
the distinct odor of cigarette smoke. I looked up from my book. A
man stood in front of the four foot fence that separated Walter's
yard from the common area. He was facing me, staring at me. But I
could not make out his facial features because the sun was
directly behind him, creating a glare that I could not clearly
see through. He constantly puffed on the cigarette he held in his
right hand.
     "Can I help you?" I asked tentatively.
     Again he took a drag from his cigarette. He looked at me
then slowly said, "Actually I believe that I can help you, Miss
Rhys."

     I closed the book on my lap and looked back at him, trying
to peer through the bright sunshine to see him. He knew my name.
Why did he know my name? I stood up slowly and moved to my left,
closer to the back door. The glare from the sun that had shone
from behind him was now gone. I studied him. He was tall and had
neat dark hair. He was an older man, somewhere in that
indeterminate age group of 55 to early sixties. He had dark,
beady eyes.
     "Who are you?" I asked. "How do you know my name?"
     He let the cigarette hang precariously from the corner of
his mouth as he answered, "I'm a colleague of your...A.D.
Skinner."
     Panic washed over me. The smoking man. The one that Walter
had told me about that day on our picnic. A man who had posed a 
danger to us. A man who wanted to harm me to get at Walter, as 
much as Alex Krycek had. I moved quickly and opened the back
door. "You better leave," I said. "I'm calling Walter right now."
     "You won't find him," he said to me calmly. "He's not where
you think he is." I looked back at him and watched as he puffed
again on his cigarette, then dropped it to the sidewalk and
crushed it beneath his foot. "You have nothing to fear from me,"
he added and cracked a sly smile. "That time has past." He pulled
a crumpled cigarette pack from his suitcoat pocket and shook out
the last cigarette. He tossed the empty packet onto Walter's
lounge chair. "I'm here today because there are certain things
that are going on that you have no idea about. And you should be
told." He lit the cigarette and took a long pull on it, drawing
the smoke deep into his lungs. "It's your right to know."
     "Why should I believe anything that you tell me?" I asked as
I stood in the open door way.
     "Because I have no reason to lie to you," he replied as he
inhaled. "But A.D. Skinner has." 
     Anger raced through me. I stepped back out into the yard.
"Walter has never lied to me," I said strongly as I moved closer
to him. "I trust him completely. I know him. _You_, I don't
know!"
     The man stood directly across the fence from me. He puffed
again on his cigarette and exhaled the smoke directly into my
face trying to intimidate me. I didn't blink. His accusations
against Walter incensed me. "He really doesn't deserve you, you
know," he said simply. "You'd agree with me if you knew what I
know."
     I stared back at him. "Get out of here."
     He smiled wryly at me and put the cigarette to his lips once
more. "Tell me, Miss Rhys. Where do you think this man that you
are defending so strongly is right now? What do you think this
man that you are so fiercely loyal to is doing?"
     "He's at the Bureau. He's at work," I replied icily.
     "Oh, he's working all right but he's not at the Bureau," he
said as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. "He's at a safehouse.
Not twenty minutes drive from here. He's working out a deal." He
paused and added, "A deal with Alex Krycek."
     "Krycek's in jail," I said with certainty.
     "Krycek has _never_ been in jail," he countered. From the
way he smiled, I knew he read the shock that registered in my
eyes. "You didn't know that, did you?" He took a drag on his
cigarette once more. "After all he's done. After all the pain
he's put you through. After what he did to you. Krycek's _never_
spent one hour behind bars. Hardly seems fair, does it?"
     I looked down at the grass under my feet. I started to
shake. He's lying. This man is lying to me. Krycek _is_ in jail. 
He raped me. He has to be in jail. This can't be true. Walter
wouldn't let this happened. He wouldn't! "You're lying," I said
simply as I stared back at the man once more.
     He exhaled again. "As I said before, I have no reason. But
Skinner has.  He knows that you wouldn't stay with him if you
knew that he was trading away what happened to you for the names
a few people that he'll never find." Again he inhaled deeply.
"And believe me, he'll _never_ find them. Krycek has been outside
the loop for too long."
     I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. I
watched as the man took a piece of paper from his side pocket. He
held it out in front of me. "Check out the place for yourself.
You'll find A.D. Skinner and Krycek at this address."



*****************************************************************




The Discovery


     I had been parked down the block from the address the
smoking man handed to me for over 30 minutes. The house was a
white colonial with green shutters. It had a well manicure lawn
and flower beds full of petunias and marigolds. It looked
remarkably like a nice normal family home, not a government
safehouse where witnesses were hidden for their own protection.
But then it would, wouldn't it? I reasoned. It would have
defeated it's own purpose had it looked like a fortress.
     I debated whether I should drive away or go knock boldly on
the front door. What if the man had been lying to me? How
embarrassed would I be if a suburban housewife with two small
children clutching at her answered the door? Or some stately
matron who I had stolen away from her soaps? What would I say?
What room have you let the FBI and the bastard who raped me use
for their shady negotiations? I needed a plausible explanation
for being there. In my shorts and sleeveless top, I was hardly
dressed for anything that had to do with door-to-door sales or
questionnaires. The idea came to me quickly. I'd say I was
looking for my lost pet. A dog. A big dog. A german shepherd
named "Kaiser". Yes, that would do. It seemed real enough. 
     I reached for the handle to open the car door when a blue
sedan drove past me and pulled into the drive of the house. I
recognized the woman immediately. Dana Scully. So she had been in
on this from the beginning, too. I felt the anger grow inside my
stomach as I watched her get out of the car. She was carrying two
big paper bags like those from a take-out restaurant. Lunch. She
was returning with lunch for a least five or six people. She
struggled a bit with the doorknob of the front door, then quickly
went inside.
     Where Scully was, I was sure Mulder was, too. And Walter and
Krycek. Probably a states attorney or some kind of legal
representative from the Bureau and for Krycek, too, I bet. That
made six. Six people who were just down the block from me. Six
people who were working diligently on an agreement that would
wipe out all traces of the crime that had been committed against
me. And what hurt the most was one of the six was a man that I
never would have imagined in a million years to be a party to any
of this.
     I felt the tears well up in my eyes. Why? How could he? From
deep inside me a little voice told me not to doubt him so
hastily. This could be a safehouse. Mulder and Scully could be
guarding someone. It didn't have to be Krycek. What if that man
had been lying? He wants me to get upset and leave Walter without
an explanation. He wants to hurt Walter. I'd be damned if I was
going to let him use me to destroy Walter. I had to see what if
anything was going on for myself.
     I steeled my nerves, wiped my tears and got out of the car.
I walked slowly toward the house and up the walk. I stood for a
few moments outside the front door. I didn't breath. I didn't
move. I listened. I could hear voices inside. Muffled voices. At
least three of them were male. One of the men was raising his
voice, obviously upset. I was sure I recognized the voice. I
couldn't wait any longer. I had to know.
     I rapped on the door loudly. The voices stopped. I stepped
to the left and off the stoop so that I would not be seen through
the peephole in the door. Someone opened the door slowly. I
stepped back in front of it. The look on Agent Mulder's face was
priceless. I moved past him swiftly and entered the house.
      Krycek, two men, Scully and Walter were seated at the
dining room table not ten feet from me. The surface of the table
was covered with papers, coffee cups and white styrofoam food
containers. Krycek took a big bite of a sandwich. He looked up
and just stared at me. Scully followed his gaze and mouthed the
words, "Oh my God". Walter was in the middle of a conversation
with the two men I did not know. His back was towards me. He had
no idea I was in the room.
     Fox Mulder came up beside me. "Sir?" he called to Walter.
     Walter didn't turn around. "Handle it, Agent Mulder," he
said in his commanding assistant director's voice.
     I cleared my throat and said calmly. "I really think this is
something that you should handle yourself, Walter."
     I watched his back stiffen and his shoulders hunch over as
Walter recognized my voice. He turned his head slowly and stared
at me in disbelief.
     For a long time neither one of us spoke, we just stared at
each other. "Beth...I can explain," Walter finally began, his
voice was shaky. His eyes pleaded with me to give him a chance,
to understand.
     "Save it," I sneered. "I'll never believe another word you 
say ever again."



*****************************************************************
     


The Loss


     I was almost finished packing my suitcases by the time
Walter entered the house. I heard him call my name over and over
again as he looked for me from room to room. I pulled the new
sexy red dress that I had bought yesterday from the closet and
folded it neatly into the garment bag that I had lain out on top
of the bed. I closed the bag gently and placed it on the floor.
What a fool I had been, I kept saying to myself. What a fool!
     Walter entered the bedroom. "What are you doing?"
     I glanced up at him. He was genuinely surprised that I was
packing. "You're the big FBI agent. You figure it out!" I spat
the words at him.
     "Beth. Please don't leave me. I love you. We can work this
out. Please, Beth." Walter stepped towards me.
     I held up my hands to stop him. "It's over, Walter. You
destroyed any feelings that I had for you when you decided a deal
with Krycek was more important than I was." I turned back towards
the closet and pulled out the last two of my blouses. These I did
not fold neatly. I wanted out of here. I wanted out of Walter's
house fast. I rolled the blouses up into a ball and stuffed them
into my smaller overnight bag and started to zip up the sides.
     "Beth," Walter said as he moved closer to me. "Don't leave
this way. Not after all this time. Surely our relationship means
more to you then that."
     I stopped and turned to stare at him. "Our relationship!" I
yelled, "Just how much thought did you give to _us_ as you
negotiated with Krycek!" I slapped Walter hard across the face.
His left cheek blazed crimson from my blow. I grabbed my cosmetic
bag and moved past him toward the bathroom. 
     Walter stepped in front of me again. He grabbed me by the
shoulders. "Wait, Beth. Let me explain!" he pleaded.
     "Let go of me!" I shouted. "Haven't you already done
enough?" Tears of anger and frustration streamed steadily down my
cheeks.
     Walter pulled me to him. He held me tightly. "I had no
choice," he said. "I didn't want to hurt you but--"
     "You had no choice," I finished his sentence for him. He
raised my face to his. I read the despair in his eyes.  I knew he
saw only fury in mine. "You chose your job over me," I continued.
"You betrayed me, Walter. I'll never forgive you for that." I
pulled away from him. "You were never going to tell me about all
this, were you?" I said. "You were going to keep this from me for
the rest of our lives. Keep me here, stupid and happy. Let me go
on believing that Krycek was in jail for what he did to me. You,
bastard! I trusted you. I trusted you completely!" I threw my
cosmetic bag back on his bed. I could get more toothpaste and
eyeliner where I was going. I just had to leave. I had to get out
now. Before he could talk to me. Before he could change my mind.
     "Beth, please..." Walter tried to reason with me again.
     "I never would have found out if _he_ hadn't told me," I
said as I moved past him.
     "Who?" Walter asked. "Who told you where I was? Who told you
what we were doing?"
     I pulled the empty Morley's cigarette pack from my back
jeans' pocket. "He never told me his name, but he did leave his
calling card," I said as I threw the crumpled packet at Walter.
He caught it in his hands and I knew by the look on his face that
he knew who my visitor had been. I picked up my bags and started
down the hall.
     Walter followed me into the living room. "I thought I was
doing the right thing. Beth, please. The last thing I wanted to
do was hurt you. But I had to follow orders. I _had_ to."
     I stopped and put my bags down at the front door. I grabbed
my purse from the occasional table that stood before the window. 
I looked at Walter. He really was hurt and confused. I opened my
purse and searched through its contents. "I'm going to the
airport. I'll return my rental car to the agent there." I said as
I finally found what I was looking for in my purse. I pulled the
paper from it. "I do have one thing to thank you for Walter. You
made me go and see Dr. Solomon. She really helped me. She made me
strong again.  If it wasn't for you, I never would have gone. So
thank you." I stepped towards him. "This piece of paper is the
one that she handed me that first day in her office, remember? I
never told you what she wrote but I read this everyday. It really
helped me a lot. But now I think that _you need_ this more than I
do." I gave him the paper. "It says two simple words: 'Forgive
yourself'."
     I turned from him and opened the front door. I picked up my
suitcases and left, closing the door behind me.



*****************************************************************
(The End?)

From  Tue Jan 14 13:16:27 1997
                                                                 

*Explanation: This story is the sequel to my first story
featuring Walter S. Skinner and Bethany Rhys entitled: IRONIC. In
that story as well as this one, the universe of the X-Files
episode "Avatar" does not exist. That means that in this story,
Walter Skinner does not have a wife or an ex-wife.

**Disclaimer: The characters of FBI Assistant Director Walter
Sergei Skinner and other members of the X-Files family are the
sole property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and the FOX 
Television Network. The character of Bethany Gayle Rhys is mine.

***Warning: This story is rated XXX. Do not read this story if
you are under the age of 17, or if such stories upset, shock or
disgust you.




                    CONSECRATION
                    (A sequel to IRONIC)     
                         by
                    Marjory A. Cwynar


Part One                                                    


     Walter kissed me hard and pulled my body close to his.
He ran his hands slowly down my back, caressing every inch
of my bare flesh. I felt tenderness and desire in his touch.
Our kisses became more and more intense. Body to body, skin
on skin, I relished the closeness that we had found once
again. It had been too long. Too long since we were last
together. Walter's kisses grew more passionate as his hands
continued to explore my body. I tingled at his touch and
returned his loving strokes with my own. When we both could
take no more, I parted my legs and the tip of his penis slid
along my pussy. He moved himself on top of me. I yearned to
feel him deep inside me. I needed him to make me whole. I
reached down to take his big cock into my hands and guide
him further into me. Walter pulled back suddenly. His eyes
shone with a look of total hate and disgust. "I don't love
you," he said cruelly. An evil smile crossed his handsome
face. "I never did."
     I woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. My
breathing labored, my heart in my throat. The room was dark.
I glanced at the clock radio. The crimson numerals told me
it was 4:05 a.m. This was the sixth time since I left D.C.
that I had had that dream. Each time the scenario was
different yet eerily similar. Walter and I, somewhere,
together, making love. Then just before we truly were one
once more, Walter always said the same words to me -- "I
don't love you. I never did."
     I lay back down on the pillow and forced myself to
breathe normally, willing myself to calm down. I pulled the
comforter up under my chin. I was cold. Too cold. I longed
for Walter's warm, strong body beside mine. I fought back
the tears that threatened to overtake me. Why was I doing
this to myself? It was over. After ten years, we were over.
How could I still want him? How could I still miss him when
I knew what he had done? When I knew how he had betrayed me?
Yet the pain of discovering that I could never trust Walter
Skinner again was tearing me apart. Because I still loved
him desperately. No, I corrected myself. I was _still_ in
love with the idea of what I thought he had been. And that
illusion had been shattered when I found out that Walter had
chosen his career over me. I had to let go. Let go of the
falsehood and the fantasy of Walter and me. I promised
myself that I could and I would. All I needed was time.
     The house was quiet. Gwen and Tom would not be up for
hours yet, unless one of the children needed attention. I
rolled over onto my left side and looked toward the window.
Through the sheer curtains, I could already see that the
dawn was not far off. Another day would soon begin. Another
day where I would feel alone. Another day that I would spend
missing Walter and what I thought we had been.



***********      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****
          


     "You look like hell," Gwen said as she greeted me with
a wry smile and a cup of coffee. I managed to find a seat
amid the piles of laundry that covered the kitchen table and
chairs. "Did you get any sleep at all?" Genuine affection
for me was evident in her voice.
     I sipped the coffee gratefully and looked at my best
friend. She was so different from when we had first started
working together at the Canadian Embassy in D.C. Twelve
years ago Gwen was totally into herself, her image and her
career. At that time, the most important things to her had
been wearing the fashions of the day and searching for the
ultimate flattering hairstyle. Also being seen at all the
best restaurants and at all the A-list parties and making
sure that she always was in the _right_ company to enhance
her position had been a big part of the total package that
Gwen Linden had convinced herself she needed to present to
the world. I had recognized immediately that deep down, she
was not and could never be as shallow and self-centered as
she thought she had to be to succeed in the cold world of
politics. Now the happily married mother of three, she stood
in the kitchen of her home clad in worn jeans and a short
sleeve cotton print blouse, her shoulder length sandy brown
hair pulled back into a sensible ponytail.
      With each passing year of her marriage to Tom Macklin,
Gwen was more relaxed and happier than I had ever seen her.
Eight years ago, she had told me on their wedding day that
Tom let her be her true self and that there was no need for
false bravado where he was concerned. "How could I not love
a man like that?" she asked rhetorically as I had tried to
advert a last minute disaster at the back of the church in
Connecticut that involved the hem of her gown with a
stapler. Her easy, toothy grin which she used to hate, had
lit up her face. She had been totally at ease that day,
blessed by the knowledge that what she was about to do,
marry a man that she truly loved, was her destiny. I, on the
other hand, had been a bundle of nerves. I had taken my role
as maid-of-honor seriously. Still caught in the trap that
Gwen had freed herself from, I was trying desperately to
make sure that everything was perfect and ran as smoothly as
we had planned.
     The woman that stood before me now, leaning against the
kitchen counter piled high with dirty cereal bowls and
plastic Disney glasses, the remanents of yet another hectic,
happy breakfast at the Macklin household, was the picture of
pure domestic and personal bliss. I envied her contentment.
I took another sip of coffee and answered her question the
best that I could without going into too much detail, "I did
eventually drift off sometime after 2. But I didn't sleep
for very long."
     Gwen moved a pile of neatly folded cloth diapers from
one of the chairs and sat down quickly. "You had that dream
again, didn't you, Beth?" A look of concern clouded her
face. "There's only one way to stop it from returning--" 
     "Don't say it." I warned her.
     As always Gwen did what she felt was best. Falling in
love with Tom and realizing that he loved her
unconditionally had given her that extra ounce of confidence
that she now used fearlessly whenever she felt she was
right. Ignoring my protest she continued, "Call him. Call
Walter."
     I stared back at her. "Where are the kids?" I asked
trying to change the subject. "I promised T.J. and Laurel
that I'd take them to the park today." 
     Gwen made a face at me. "You didn't allow him to tell
you his side of the story. You didn't give Walter --"
     I turned and looked out the window. "It looks like a
beautiful morning. I bet the baby would enjoy a nice walk,
too." I glanced back at her and smiled sincerely. "Suzy-Q
can sleep just as well in her stroller, don't you think,
Gwen? Beats being stuck in the nursery all day."
     "Susannah would love a trip to the park with you and
her brother and sister," Gwen answered in a tone of voice
that only vaguely conveyed her impatience with me.
     "Good," I said quickly hoping to keep her attention
focused on her children and away from the trouble between
Walter and me.
     "But I'm afraid that the trip to the park with Auntie
Beth will have to wait until this afternoon. Tom took the
older kids with him to the lumberyard," Gwen explained as
she poured more coffee for us. "He's going to start repairs
on the back fence and he promised T.J. that they could also
get a few boards for an expansion on the tree-fort." Gwen
sipped her coffee and looked directly at me. "I told him
there was no need to rush home and to take the kids for
burgers at lunchtime. Gives you and me more time to talk,
Beth." She paused slightly and when she continued, her voice
held a tone of regret. "It's been pretty busy around here,
with three kids now and all. I know you need to talk. I'm
sorry I really haven't been here for you. I'm sorry I
couldn't give you more time sooner."
     "Stop it, Gwen. There's no need for you to apologize."
I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat and continued,
"I feel foolish enough running up here to Minnesota and
bothering you with all...this." I paused. "I've disrupted
your lives for an entire week now. And for you to feel that
you need to send your own children away because your idiot
of a friend is behaving like a bigger baby than your own
five month old daughter..." I could feel the tears well up
in my eyes as I looked at my friend. "I feel guilty enough
already."
     Gwen took my hands in hers. "Don't you feel guilty. The
children love spending time with their father." She had
tears in her eyes, too. "What happened to you was horrible,
Beth. I'm so sorry that you had to go through all that. I
can't even imagine what the terror and the pain must have
been like. How frightened you must have been. How worried
you were for both yourself and Walter."
     I took a deep breath and reached for a tissue from the
box sitting on the cabinet behind me. I wiped my eyes and
blew my nose. "I got through that," I began. "I don't mean
that the memory of the rape is gone, but with the help of a
good therapist, I learned how to live with it. How to go on
with my life, in spite of it."
      "Walter helped you, too," Gwen said. "You told me he
even attended counselling sessions with you." 
      "Yes, he helped me. In fact, he was wonderful. Very
understanding, very patient with me." I thought back to the
many times that Walter had been there for me after the rape.
The countless times he was strong and supportive, even when
I had fought him tooth and nail all the way.
     Gwen smiled at me. "That's because he loves you."
     "And then he destroyed me," I countered. I wanted to
cry but couldn't let myself. I was afraid that I wouldn't be
able to stop.
     "Admit it, Beth," Gwen said. "You're miserable and not
sleeping properly because you miss him and you're riddled
with guilt from the way you reacted. You know deep down
inside that you didn't give him a chance to explain
anything. You really don't know why he was with this Alec--"
     "Alex. His name is Alex Krycek. And you're wrong, Gwen.
I know precisely why Walter was there. He was trading on
what that man did to me to glean any scrap of information he
could on a faction that was threatening his Bureau. His
precious FBI!" I spat the words out. I was surprised by the
anger and frustration that I still felt. All this pain was
still too new, too raw. I sighed heavily and took another
sip of coffee trying to calm myself.
      Gwen spoke slowly, "I know what you think you saw. But
I also know Walter. I've watched him with you all these
years, Beth. From that first night at Charley's, he's been
crazy about you. He loves you. He'd never do anything that
malicious--"
     "I saw what I saw, Gwen. And do you want to know what
even made it worse? Walter admitted to me that he had no
choice. He was just following orders." I laughed bitterly.
"He had no other explanation for me then that."
     Gwen bit her bottom lip. "You really didn't give him
much time to elaborate, Beth."
     "I didn't give him much time to make up a plausible
story, you mean. I didn't give him time to convince me that
he wasn't doing what he was doing." I looked out the kitchen
window again. The sky was bright blue and cloudless. We sat
silently for a few minutes. Then finally I said, "Do you
want to know what hurt the most, Gwen? What hurt me worse
than the rape or anything? It was the fact that it was so
easy for Walter to live with me everyday and not tell me
what was going on. He just let me blithely go on believing
that Alex Krycek was in jail. That he'd be punished for what
he did. Day after day, week after week. Walter never let on
that it was being handled any other way." I blew my nose
again. "I honestly think I would have been able to handle it
-- the fact that the Bureau was willing to negotiate with
Krycek -- if Walter had just been upfront with me from the
beginning. If only he had just told me what was going on."
     Ever championing the power of love, Gwen replied, "He
probably thought that he'd protect you from further shock
and upset. I know that Walter just didn't want you to be
hurt anymore. You'd already been through so much."
     "And in doing that, he hurt me more than anyone," I
stated. Silence filled the room once again. What could Gwen
say? What more could either of us say?
     In the ensuing quiet, the soft cooing of an infant
could be heard. A smile crossed my lips as we listened to
the wonderful, tiny noises that emanated from the baby
monitor that sat on the kitchen counter. 
     "Well, it seems that a certain little someone is up and
needs attention," Gwen said as she rose to her feet.
     "Let me get her. Please." I said. I needed to do
something, to help bring me out of my misery. And I knew
that being with Gwen's children always made me feel good.
     "Sure, if you want. It will give me a chance to get at
these breakfast dishes." Gwen smiled at me. "But I'm warning
you, for a sweet little bundle some of her diapers can be
very toxic."
     "Forewarned," I said as I got up and started toward the
nursery.

*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****
     
     Big blue eyes stared at me as I stepped quietly into
the room and moved slowly toward the crib. "Hey, Suzy-Q," I
said softly. "Ready for a fun-filled couple of hours between
naps." I reached down and gently stroked her cheek. Susannah
looked toward the doorway once again and then back at me.
"Mommy's in the kitchen, sweetie." I told her as I picked
her up and carried her to the change table. "Auntie Beth is
going to change you and then we'll go see her, okay?" 
     In a few minutes I had Susannah in a clean diaper and a
cute yellow cotton romper. I also brushed her soft auburn
curls with the tiny baby hairbrush that I found on top of
the dresser. "There, as cute as a button," I said and smiled
as she lay there, her blue eyes followed my every movement.
     "You're such a little darlin', aren't you, Suzy-Q?
You're such a good girl for your Auntie Beth. Later this
afternoon you and I and Laurel and T.J. will go to the park.
And while your siblings are swinging, and climbing all over
the jungle gym, you can have a nice little snooze in the
fresh air. How's that sound?" 
     Susannah yawned at me and then started to squirm on the
change table. "Yeah, I know. I'm a thrill a minute," I said
as I picked her up and cradled her in my arms. She was so
cute that I just could not resist and gave her a quick kiss
on her forehead. Susannah looked at me for a moment then
turned her head toward me and nudged her chin into my left
breast. She raised her eyes to look at me and made a face. 
Again she pressed her mouth into my bosom. Her natural
actions took me by surprise. "I'm sorry, sweetie," I said
softly. "I know you're hungry, but this is one thing that I
can't help you with. It's something that your mommy
definitely has to handle."


*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****


     Gwen was just finishing up the dishes as we entered the
kitchen. "Hi, baby-cakes," she said sweetly to her daughter.
"Mommy will be right with you. She didn't give you any
trouble, did she, Beth?" 
     "She was as good as gold," I answered as I expertly
moved Susannah to my left hip and stood there copying a
stance I'd seen Gwen use many times through out the years. 
     Gwen smiled at us. "You look really good with a baby in
your arms, Beth. You would have made a great mother. Too bad
you didn't give yourself a chance."
     "Let's not get into that again, okay?" I said. "We both
know that parenting is more than being able to change a
diaper and play 'peak-a-boo'. It takes a lot of patience and
sacrifice." Changing the subject, I asked, "Are you going to
nurse her here?"
     "Nah, it's so great outside, I was thinking that I'll
grab a couple receiving blankets and we'll go sit in the
backyard."
     "I'll carry Suzy-Q out for you," I said moving toward
the backdoor.
     "Right behind you," Gwen replied but the ringing of the
telephone stopped her in her tracks. "Never fails," she said
as she picked up the receiver on the third ring. 
     "We'll be waiting for you," I told Gwen as I opened the
door.
     "Oh, hello, Walter." I heard her say. "How are you?"
     I turned around and let the screen door shut quietly
again behind me. Gwen looked at me and I shook my head at
her, pleading with my eyes for her not to tell Walter I was
here.
     "We're all fine. The kids are growing like weeds.
Everything is the normal chaos, I guess." She paused
briefly. "Yes, I have heard from her. We've talked quite a
bit in the past few days actually." She paused again. "I
agree. It was just awful what Beth has been through. And for
you, too," Gwen added and looked at me. She was in the midst
of a moral quandary. "I'm sorry. What was that, Walter?" She
paused again and listened to him carefully.
     Susannah started to fidget and cry in my arms. I tried
to comfort her the best that I could, lifting her to my
shoulder and letting her look out the window of the door. I
did not take my eyes off Gwen. I had to know what Walter
wanted and most importantly what she would tell him.
     "Well, when I last spoke with her, she was upset." She
paused for a second. "Yes, I know. I know, Walter. Of course
you're worried about Beth. We all are." Gwen looked at me
and I knew if he asked her, she'd have to tell him. No
matter what -- Gwen couldn't, wouldn't lie.
     I turned and opened the door and Susannah and I stepped
out onto the back veranda. I looked at my friend through the
screen door. She was puzzled by my actions.
     "Sorry, what was that?" Gwen asked Walter again. "Is
Beth here in my house now?" she repeated into the phone but
stared at me. Slowly realization crossed her face. "No,
Walter. She's not," Gwen breathed heavily as she answered
him. "Yes, I know. I know you love Beth. I'm sure this is
all just a big misunderstanding. I pray she'll calm down and
come to her senses soon." She paused again. "Of course, of
course. I'll be sure to tell her to get in touch with you if
I speak with her again. And I will let you know if she calls
and tells me where she is." Another short pause, and this
time she closed her eyes. "You, too. Take care of yourself,
Walter. Bye-bye." She sighed and hung up the phone.
     Gwen looked at me. I could tell that she wasn't happy
with me or herself.
     "I'm sorry," I told her sincerely. "I won't put you in
that situation again, Gwen. I'll be leaving tomorrow."
     "You don't have to go," she said as she joined us
outside. "All you have to do is talk to him. Talk to Walter,
Beth. Stop running. Stop running from him. You should have
heard him on the phone just now. He's worried and he's as
miserable as you are. I could tell by his voice that he's so
sorry, Beth. He really loves you and misses you. Give him a
chance to explain."
     "It's not that simple," I replied as I handed Susannah
to her mother.
     "Yes, it is," Gwen stated. "Walter loves you. And
whether you want to admit it or not, Beth. You still love
him, too."



*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****


End of Part One

(To be continued)


From  Tue Jan 14 13:17:13 1997




                         CONSECRATION
                         (A sequel to IRONIC)
                              by
                         Marjory A. Cwynar


Part Two


     After three days of polishing and refinishing, the
old brass bedframe was beginning to take on the lustre
that I had remembered it possessed when I was a child.
I took a brief moment to admire the sheen that I had
been able to coax out of the headboard with lots of
elbow grease and just the right cleaning agent. Mr.
Felton, at the one and only village hardware store, had
recommended the brand highly. He had been right. The
metal shone like it hadn't in years. "Gran would have
been proud," I said.
     I had taken to talking out loud to myself quite a
bit lately. Now that I was alone again, I found I
missed being surrounded by the noise and the company
that spending ten days with Gwen's family in Minnesota
had given me. Although I was thoroughly at home here,
this old house was much too quiet for my liking. That
fact surprised me. All my life I had craved solitude
and serenity; finding solace and comfort -- renewal in
time spent on my own. But now I found it just
emphasized the deep loneliness that I felt inside. The
emptiness that filled me would not go away.
     I glanced at the regal grandfather clock that
stood in the front parlour to my right. It was only
3:45 in the afternoon, but already the sky was dark
with clouds that forewarned of yet another late autumn
rainstorm. "Better get a jump on dinner before the
power goes out again," I said to myself, remembering
last night's repast of cold baked beans and bread. I
got up off my knees and carefully placed the now
gleaming pieces of bedframe against the wall of the
entry hall. I'd haul them back upstairs to the master
bedroom tomorrow.
     I had decided to refinish the brass bedframe in
the front hall because it was well lit and provided
good cross ventilation. Also, after dusting and mopping
and clearing up spiderwebs for days, I didn't want a
mess in any one of my freshly cleaned rooms. Besides it
allowed me to stay downstairs by the phone that
constantly seemed to ring from sunrise to sunset ever
since I had arrived almost two weeks ago. The callers
     were mostly old family friends of my paternal  
grandparents. Each wondering how I was faring on my
own. Did I have enough supplies? Had I made it through
the storm the previous night unscathed and unafraid?
Did I really want to stay so far from town on my own?
Did I want one of their bachelor grandsons to come
around and help me with the repairs that obviously must
need to be done to the old place to make it habitable
again? 
     I was genuinely touched by all the concern this
small coastal Maine community was showing for me. I
knew it was beyond the usual neighborliness. It was a
reflection on the kind of people my grandparents had
been. Emily and Llewellyn Rhys had been well liked in
the area and were still sorely missed. I politely
answered each heartfelt inquiry and just as politely
yet firmly, refused all offers of help. I assured every
caller that the house was still structurally sound and
that the roof did not leak. I reminded them that I had
rented a Jeep and could easily make trips to the market
for whatever I needed. And that even though I had spent
most of my life in various urban centers, I could
manage in a rural setting without electricity now and
then.
     I walked into the large kitchen beyond the parlour
and proceeded to wash my hands in the porcelain sink.
Already the window panes on the cliffside of the house
showed scattered droplets of rain. I decided that I'd
make an omelette for dinner. It was fast and simple and
hopefully would be done before the inevitable power
failure. Drying my hands on the teatowel that hung
beside the refrigerator, I opened the appliance and
grabbed two eggs, butter and a block of cheddar cheese
from the second shelf. 
     In minutes I had my dinner sizzling in the cast
iron frying pan. I reached for the toaster as a bolt of
lightning raced across the sky, followed almost
immediately by a loud clap of thunder. I quickly
deposited the whole grain bread into the slots and
prayed aloud for just three more minutes of
electricity, as the clouds burst overhead.



*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      


     I closed the book that lay in my lap. Re-reading
"Wuthering Heights" had not been a wise thing to do.
The passion that Cathy and Heathcliff felt for each
other brought to the surface the memory of Walter and
what we once shared. Tears streamed steadily down my
cheeks as I looked out at the raging storm through the
open curtains of the parlour window. The power had gone
out over three hours ago. In the tradition of the area
and following what my grandmother had taught me, I had
immediately placed a kerosene lamp in the window. "On a
night like this when the devil himself would drown, one
never knows who the light may help guide out of the
storm," I had heard her say many times.
     I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my
hand, as I watched the wind whip and twist the trees in
the front lane and drive the rain straight into the
window pane. Normally I loved intense thunderstorms,
but this one just magnified the desolation that I felt
inside. I was like a lost little girl. My heart and my
spirit were both broken. 
     I lay down on the couch and adjusted the pile of 
embroidered throw cushions under my head. I closed my
eyes trying to block all thoughts of Walter from my
mind by concentrating on the sounds of the storm and
the crackling of the logs in the fireplace. Begging for
sleep or some other sort of release.
     But my fear and emptiness grew. And as the storm
progressed, so did a strange need within me that I had
not experienced in years. It truly surprised me. I had
not thought along these lines for so long that at first
I did not know how to proceed. Or if I even should. For
what seemed like hours, I debated with myself. But the
feeling would not go away. Finally before I knew it, I
was dialling a phone number that I was not quite sure I
even remembered correctly. 
     She answered after the fifth ring.
     "Charlotte, it's Bethany," I said, a little shaky.
We had not spoken in so long that I was afraid she
would not recognize my voice.
     She took a moment or two before she replied, "This
really is a surprise. Why did you call?" Terse and to
the point. After all this time, she really hadn't
changed at all. 
     "It's been awhile," I began.
     "That was not my doing." There was no mistaking
the imperious tone that was still evident in her voice.
The same tone that used to stifle all the life in me.
     I breathed deeply. I was beginning to regret
making this call. Yet some desperate yearning in me
made me try one more time to find some common ground
between us. "Believe it or not, I just wanted to see
how you are," I said sincerely.
     "This phone call is over three years late, my dear
girl." Cold and icy, how did I ever think she'd be
anything less? "You should have called me then. In fact
you should have been at my side as they placed your
poor father in the ground." My mother's voice was full
of hate. And as usual, all of it was directed at me.
     I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that
threatened my composure. "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I guess
I shouldn't have called."
     "That's the first thing you've got right in
years," she stated. "You're nonsensical behavior never
ceases to amaze me, Bethany. One would have thought
you'd grown up by now. But then you always were a
disappointment to your father and me."
     I felt the familiar hurt deep inside but this time
it was also mixed with anger. Why was she doing this to
me? Why was I letting her? For the first time in my
life I answered her with a strong voice, "I was foolish
to think that just maybe..." I stopped suddenly,
choking on my own words. What was the use? I was trying
in vain to appeal to the compassion of a woman who
possessed none where I was concerned. "I won't bother
you again, Charlotte," I finally said. 
     Her voice held no emotion at all as she replied,
"I doubt it."  Then she disconnected the line and I
burst into tears.


*****      *****      *****      *****      *****


     I lay in the double bed, listening to the beat of
the rain as it fell. The thunder and lightning had
moved further inland. Once in a while a low rumble
could still be heard in the distance. However the rain
continued to fall steadily. The bedsheets were cool and
crisp and made my skin turn to goose flesh. I was cold
and tired. I needed to sleep but couldn't.
     I was upset. And I was angry. Angry with myself
for falling into the same old pattern of behavior with
Charlotte. What was in me that still so fervently
craved her love and approval? She had rejected me time
and time again since I was a very young child. I should
be used to the feelings of abandonment and loss that
our encounters always left with me. Yet each time
Charlotte's total lack of affection for me was
expressed, it cut me to the quick. The pain was just as
intense now after all these years.
     I turned onto my left side and looked around the
bedroom. The "rose room", my grandmother had named it.
When I had re-opened the house almost two weeks ago,
the one room that I had hoped had survived time intact
was this room. I had been pleasantly surprised to find
that many seasons had not dimmed the delicate beauty of
the room. Even in the dark I could see the intricate
rose covered lattices on the wallpaper. Soft, restful
hues of pinks and yellows that danced when the sun
shone and soothed one to sleep on warm summer nights. I
had loved this room when I was young. It was my refuge,
a place where I felt I had belonged. And Gran always
made sure that I was billeted here for the length of my
stay. Even after other family members began to spend
vacations here as well, she made sure that everyone
understood that the "rose room" was mine.
     Tears welled up in my eyes again. "I miss you,
Gran," I said aloud, my voice cracking with emotion. I
closed my eyes tight and pictured the face of the one
woman who truly loved me. Her quick, easy smile. Her
shining emerald green eyes. And the masses of soft dark
curls tied back, but that always fell past her
shoulders. Curls that showed just a slight tracing of
grey. The face of the one person in the entire world
that I knew without a doubt had loved me.


*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      


     Walter stood before me holding out his hand. I put
my hand in his and together we walked along the beach
at sunset. Every few steps he'd playfully pull me into
him as we walked. I'd careen to my right as I lost my
footing in the sand and each time Walter would wrap his
strong arms around me as our bodies collided. He smiled
at me with the same love that shone in my eyes for him.
Happy together, we walked on.
     Through the twilight a lone female approached us.
Small yet strong, the white clad figure's steps grew
bolder as she approached us. Nearer and nearer she came
until she was close enough for me to recognize. My
grandmother's emerald eyes looked into my very soul as
she spoke, "You've forgotten, my dear Beth. You've
forgotten that there is another who loves you."
     I opened my eyes. "Walter," I whispered. 
     The storm outside had returned with a fury. I
could hear the wind beat the tree branches against the
house. The thunder and lightning raged a battle of
dominance with one another and the earth below. The
rain hit the windows heavily. Nature was mirroring the
turmoil that I felt inside.
     I ached for Walter. I longed for his touch. I had
been without him for so long. I needed and wanted him
desperately. I yearned for physical release. 
     I closed my eyes and let my right hand fall to my
pubic mound. Slowly I parted my cunt lips with my
fingers and started to trace small circles on and
around my clitoris. I imagined Walter was here in bed
with me. Caressing me, kissing me. Touching me.
     I rubbed myself harder and faster. With each
movement I could feel my juices flow, my orgasm build.
As the sensation grew, I raised my hips and arched my
back. I remembered the feeling of Walter's big cock
deep inside me. I moaned his name over and over again,
as I relived our passion for each other in my mind.
     I increased the pressure in my fingertips and I
could feel the ecstasy overtake me. But it was Walter
now who was bringing me to a climax. It was Walter's
hand that explored my pussy and teased my clitoris. It
was Walter's hand that massaged my breasts and squeezed
my erect nipples. It was Walter that made me come with
an intensity that I had not experienced in weeks. It
was Walter. It had always been Walter.
     After several minutes, I lay spent and slightly
embarrassed by my self-indulgence, yet strangely at
peace. I was about to drift off to sleep with the
noises of the storm all around me when I realized that
the banging that I heard from the main floor was too
rhythmic to be the wind. Someone was knocking on the
front door.
     I sat up and looked at the alarm clock on the
bedstand. It was 1:47 a.m. The knocking continued. I
grabbed my terry robe from the foot of the bed and
wrapped it around my naked body as I left the bedroom
and proceeded downstairs. 
     The kerosene lamp was still burning brightly in
the front window. I could see the shadow of someone on
the porch. They knocked again. And a deep voice partly
drowned out by the fierce storm called, inquiring if
anyone was home. 
     Although I was a bit apprehensive about opening
the door at this time of night, I could not let whoever
it was stay out there in this weather. I inched my way
slowly toward the door when the voice called out again.
And this time through the wind and the rain, I
distinctly heard my name.
     I opened the door. Walter stood before me.


*****      *****      *****      *****      *****

End of Part Two

(To be continued)


From  Tue Jan 14 13:19:33 1997




                              CONSECRATION
                              (A sequel to IRONIC)
                                   by
                              Marjory A. Cwynar





Part Three



     "I'm sorry I can't offer you anything hot to drink," I
said as I walked toward him. "The power is still out. But
this should help take the chill off." I held out a glass
that contained a double shot of scotch.
     Walter draped the towel that he had been using to dry
his neck and face, across the back of a kitchen chair and
eagerly took the glass from my hand. "Thanks, Beth," he said
as he took a quick sip. "I don't think I've ever been this
soaked before." He smiled at me as he sat down. He was
right. The soft light from the lamp allowed me to see how
tightly his wet dress shirt and suit pants clung everywhere
to his body. His trenchcoat definitely had not be designed
to protect from such a torrential storm. It hung dripping
wet in the back porch, beside the suit jacket that I knew
was completely ruined. Again Walter raised the glass to his
lips and this time emptied it with one gulp. He then put it
on the kitchen table beside him and reached down to untie
his soggy shoes.
     I watched intently as a slight shiver ran through him.
Walter had walked close to two miles in the rainstorm after
his rental car had stalled out on the main road just south
of here. "You better get out of those clothes," I said a
little nervously. "Leave your wet things in here and I'll
try to find you something dry to put on from upstairs."
     I walked quickly through the hall and climbed the
stairs. This was not going to be easy. Walter was a tall,
muscular man. My grandfather, though also tall, had been
extremely lean. Unfortunately anything that had belonged to
my grandfather that may still be here might be long enough
but much too small. I rummaged through the closet of the
master bedroom. Of the few pieces of clothing that I could
find, none were appropriate. I finally decided on an article
of warmth that I found on the top shelf. It would be better
than nothing. 
     Descending the stairs, I saw Walter had moved into the
parlour. He was barefoot, striped down to his navy boxer
shorts, squatting down in front of the fireplace. I fought
off the arousal that the sight of him summoned in me. I
entered the room and stood behind him. I spread the thick
woollen blanket that I had been carrying over his broad
shoulders. "This is the best I could do. Nothing that
belonged to my grandfather would even come close to fitting
you," I explained.
     "This is fine. Thanks," he said as he coaxed the small
fire he had started into a bigger blaze. Walter turned and
smiled at me again. He pulled the blanket tighter around
himself and sat down on the couch. "When you inherited this
place, you told me it was remote." He paused and made a
face. "You weren't kidding, were you?"
     I sat in the armchair directly to his left. I was awash
with conflicting emotions. Even though the hurt I felt at
his betrayal was still very raw, I found my former resolve
to never trust him again had softened. I was surprised that
a part of me was actually happy to see Walter. Yet, at the
same time, I was extremely angry that he had found me, and
angrier still that time had allowed even the smallest
percentage of me to begin to forgive.
     The thunder and lightning had ceased since Walter's
arrival but the rain continued to fall with a mighty force.
I looked into the fire and tried to think of the right thing
to do. I certainly did not want to get into everything that
had passed between us now. Not at this time of night. But I
knew that if I stayed here, sitting in the same room with
him for much longer, one of two things would happen. I'd end
up screaming all my pain at him or I'd end up in his arms.
And I was not prepared for either scenario.
     Looking more relaxed and comfortable then he had a few
minutes ago, Walter sat forward on the couch, leaning closer
to the warmth of the fire and rubbed his hands together. "I
feel a little more human now," he said. "I also think the
scotch has started to work, too."
     "That's good," I replied rather awkwardly. Our eyes
locked. For a moment it was like we had never been parted. 
Had never quarrelled and hurt each other. I fought the
small, yet strong urge that grew within me to go to him. To
fall into his embrace. To kiss him. To comfort him as much
as I needed to be comforted by him. Though I had ached for
Walter alone in my bed not an hour ago, I could not let
myself act on those feelings. Even if I knew I read the same
desire and want for me in his eyes.
     I looked back toward the front entrance. From where I
was seated, I could just see Walter's rain soaked carry-all
that stood by the door. "It's very late," I finally said.
"Why don't you unpack your bag? You can hang a few of your
wet clothes in front of the fire. Maybe that way you will
have something dry to wear by tomorrow morning." I got up
from my chair. "Give me a few minutes and I'll have a
bedroom made up for you," I added.
     Walter grabbed my hand as I walked past him. I stopped.
He looked up at me. Love danced with the firelight in his
gentle brown eyes. "I really missed you, Beth," he said. He
was being totally honest and I knew it. I also knew he felt
the electricity that this first touch between us in so long
sent coursing throughout both our bodies. 
     I cleared my throat and slowly pulled my hand from his
grasp. I looked at him solemnly and said the only thing I
could, "Your room is upstairs. Third door on the left."



*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****


     I let the hot water cascade down my neck, shoulders and
back in one last vain attempt at rejuvenation. I had spent a
fitful night and awoke even more exhausted then when I had
finally fallen asleep not much before dawn. For hours I had
lain in my bed, alone, with Walter just ten feet down the
hall. I knew by his rhythmic breathing and soft snoring that
he had fallen fast asleep not long after we had turned in.
Part of me had wanted to climb into the bed beside him.
Another part of me had chastised myself over and over for
even thinking about making love with him again. Was I that
shallow a person that the mere sight of him could make me
forget what he'd done? How could I forgive his act of
betrayal so soon?
     I raised my face directly into the spray of the shower
and closed my eyes, letting the water beat against my
forehead. I knew I couldn't stay in here forever. I had to
face Walter sometime. Yet that prospect sent a shiver
through me, one of anticipation and confusion. The more I
thought about it, trying to analyze my true feelings, the
more nervous and angry I became.
     Finally I reached for the taps and turned off the
water, opened the shower curtain and grabbed a thick terry
towel from the rack. I stepped from the tub, wrapping the
towel around me and looked at my reflection in the steam-
covered mirror. I didn't like what I saw. Staring back at me
was a woman who was no where near the strong-willed,
determined person that I thought I was. But more than that,
what was most disconcerting for me was the undeniable
sadness that I saw in my own eyes.
     As I made my way down the hall to my bedroom, I could
hear Walter in the kitchen downstairs. The aromas that mixed
with the sounds from below told me that he was in the middle
of making breakfast. I hurriedly dressed in jeans and a
warm, bulky sweatshirt. I prayed as I silently walked down
the stairs, in my sock covered feet, that he had not made
anything for me to eat. This morning, food was not on my
agenda. I had no interest in it. I seriously doubted if I
could even handle a cup of black coffee.
     Walter stood at the kitchen counter, his back to me, a
buttered knife in his hand waiting for the toaster to 'pop'.
He wore jeans and a grey, long sleeved flannel shirt. He
must have been awake for sometime. The kitchen was tidier
than we had left it. The wet clothes he'd worn the night
before that had been draped over the kitchen chairs, were
now hanging neatly on wooden hangers near his coat in the
back porch. The table was set for two, with a full pot of
freshly brewed coffee on a trivet in the middle.  Walter
turned to greet me with a warm smile that quickly faded as
he got a better look at me. "I _was_ going to say 'Good
morning'," he said dryly.
     I pulled out a chair and sat down. I managed a weak
smile. "I didn't sleep very well," I said and looked toward
the frying pan on the stove. "I certainly hope none of those
eggs are for me." 
     Walter answered, "I was going to share them with you." 
     "No, thanks," I said quickly.
     "Don't you even want some toast?"
     I shook my head. "Speaking of which," I said and
glanced at the toaster. The bread sat in the raised slots,
golden brown.
     Walter removed the toast and buttered both slices. He
placed them on a plate that sat on the counter next to the
stove, which he then filled with a heaping pile of scrambled
eggs. Carrying his breakfast to the table, Walter sat across
from me and looked at his overflowing plate of food. He
raised his eyes to mine. He had a look of apology on his
face. "I guess I sort of over-estimated the number of eggs
I'd need," he said. "But I was starving when I woke up this
morning." He smiled again and started to eat.
     "I'm sure you'll be able to handle most of that," I
replied as I poured myself a mug of coffee. I watched as
Walter eagerly devoured his breakfast. I sat gazing into my
coffee, trying to stay focused. Hoping against hope that
Walter would just keep eating and that we would get through
this day without a battle.
     After a few minutes I realized that he had stopped
eating. His plate was still more than half full. He was just
sitting there staring at me. It made me uncomfortable
because I knew where that look he was giving me would lead.
He wanted, needed to talk. And that was something that I was
not up for this morning. 
     I broke our gaze by looking out the window. The sky was
still cloudy but luckily the rain had stopped a couple of
hours ago. Not turning my head, I said to Walter, "I guess
we should go looking for that rental car of yours before the
next cloudburst."
     "Beth..." I heard the fervent plea in his voice. It
struck my soul. "Beth. Please look at me."
     I closed my eyes. I held the coffee mug so tightly in
my hands that I knew my knuckles were white. I couldn't look
at him. Not because I didn't want to, but because I knew I
couldn't give him what he needed most from me at this
moment. Right now, I felt no empathy toward him. And I did
not want to get into a screaming match when he was being so
conciliatory.
     I took a last mouthful of coffee and put the mug back
down on the table, still staring out the window. "Your
breakfast is getting cold," I said flatly.
     "Damn the breakfast!" Walter quickly replied.
     I turned and faced him. Fury burned in my eyes. 
"No, Walter. Damn you!" 
    He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Finally," he
said slowly. "Finally I got a response from you that has
some real emotion in it. This polite indifference that you
have been using with me ever since I got here was really
starting to get on my nerves."
     I glared at him. How dare he bait me into a
confrontation I did not want? I swallowed back the bile that
rose in my stomach. I silently vowed I would not argue with
him. I would not fall into his trap. I struggled for self-
control as I got up from my chair. "I'm not going to do
this, Walter," I said calmly as I left the room.
     He followed close behind me. "Where are you going to
run to now, Bethany?" He taunted. "Like it or not, you're
stuck with me. You're going to have to talk to me sooner or
later. Really talk, I mean. Thanks to this weather, neither
one of us can leave here easily."
     I stopped short in the front hall and Walter almost ran
into me. Quickly he dodged to my left to avoid the collision
and stood in front of me. He took my chin in his hand and
raised my face to his. "We need to talk. This thing....this
misunderstanding has been going on for too long. We _have_
to work this out."
     "Correction. _You_ need to work this out, Walter," I
responded. "_I_ don't want to talk to you. I don't _want_ to
know all your so-called reasons for betraying me." I stared
defiantly at him. "All I need to know is that you _did_
betray me. I don't need to know _why_."
     Walter looked deep into my eyes. "I wasn't there to
sell you out, Beth." He paused. "I was there to protect your
interests. I didn't want anything that Krycek had done at
the farmhouse to be forgotten or swept under the rug. And
knowing which way the Bureau would run with this to get what
they wanted, when asked I let myself be appointed to the
negotiating team. I didn't want some stranger to bargain
away what you'd been through. I couldn't let that happen.
That's why I was there, Beth. I was there for you." 
     I laughed bitterly. "You've had almost a month to think
up a story and that's the _best_ you can do?" I shook my
head. "'I was there for _you_, Beth,'" I repeated his words,
mocking his earnest tone.
     Walter took his hand from my face. I could read the
surprise and hurt in his eyes. "It's the truth. There's no
need for me to make up any story because I'm telling you the
truth."
     I looked away from him. I felt the sincerity behind his
words. It started to eat at the very heart of my anger. Had
I been wrong to mistrust Walter? Had I too easily believed
that he was capable of such deceit?
     "You believe me. Don't you, Beth?" Walter asked. "I
know it was a shock for you to find me with Krycek but--"
      "Please, Walter." I felt the tears well up in my eyes.
"I can't do this now," I said. I glanced back at him
briefly. "We really should go and see if we can get your car
started. It will storm again soon." I paused and added, "So
if we're going to go, we have to go now." 
     Walter stared at me, determination in his eyes once
more. "The hell with my car, Beth."
     "Walter!" I almost shouted. "I just want --"
     The ringing of the telephone on the accent table that
stood in hall next to us, interrupted my statement. I moved
to answer it.
     "Leave it, Beth." Walter pleaded. "We're finally making
some progress. We're actually talking. Don't answer it,
Beth. Tell me what you wanted to say."
     I picked up the ringing phone. "I can't," I said simply
to him before I placed the receiver to my ear.    
     "Hello," I said as calmly as I could.
     "Good morning, Bethany. It's Louise Granger, dear. Just
checking to see if you weathered the worst of the storm last
night."
     I smiled to myself and answered the sweet,
grandmotherly voice, "Yes, Mrs. Granger, I'm fine. In fact I
was just on my way out."
     "Oh, I don't think that would be wise. In fact that was
part of the reason I'm calling. My grandson Charles, you
remember him, don't you, dear? He took over Wattley's garage
when old Jason retired a few years back."
     I looked at Walter. He was not happy that I had decided
to take this call, especially now that it appeared that I
may be having a lengthy conversation with one of the
neighbors instead of with him.
     "Yes, I remember Charles," I said into the phone.
Walter's expression of slight annoyance changed to one of
faint interest.
     "Charles just called to say that parts of the road
between here and Leslie are completely impassable. It seems
that you are quite cut-off from the outside world, dear.
What with the flooding and mudslides and all, that these
rainstorms seem to be bringing us this year. Such a wet
autumn, I've never seen! And I've lived here my entire life,
dear. All 82 years." She paused.
     "So, the road is blocked. Does Charles have any idea
for how long?" I asked quickly. Thankful for the fact that
even Louise Granger, as wonderful as she was, had to stop
for a breath every now and then.
     "Yes, dear. He said they'll be closed for at least a
day or two, not much more. In fact not long ago, he found an
abandoned car not two miles from your place. Just before one
of the mudslides. He towed it back to town. But he saw no
sign of the driver. It looked to Charles like the car had
been left there before the road was blocked. The sheriff's
department will be out looking for _whomever_ as soon as
they can. In the meantime you should be extra careful, my
dear. Being out there all on your own, I thought you should
be aware that a stranger is in the area."
     "Thank you for the concern, Mrs. Granger," I replied.
"But I think I know who the abandoned car belongs to."
Walter looked at me with surprise. "A friend of mine drove
up last night."
     "In this weather?" Mrs. Granger's voice held a note of
awe at the inherent stupidity of such an action.
     "He's not from these parts," I explained in Walter's
defense. "The intensity of the storm took him by surprise.
The car he'd rented in Boston stalled out and he walked the
rest of the way here."
     "As long as he's safe," she said graciously. "I'll let
Sheriff Corben know that the mystery of the vanished driver
has been solved. The car must belong to your visitor.
Charles said it did have Massachusetts licence plates."
     "Would your grandson be willing to keep the car for a
few days? Until we can get into town to reclaim it?" I
asked.
     "Of course he will," she immediately replied. "For you,
dear, he'd be happy to do anything." She paused again and
then came the question I'd been waiting for. "Bethany, will
your _friend_ be staying with you long?"
     "At least until the roads are cleared," I answered
vaguely. I was amused by her reaction to news that I had a
_male_ house guest. "Please thank Charles for me. And thank
you again for calling, Mrs. Granger."
     "My pleasure, dear. I just hope that you and your
visitor will be all right out there. All on your own. One
can never be too careful these days."
     "Oh, we'll be fine and perfectly safe. My friend is an
agent with the FBI," I told her.
     "He's an honorable man, then," she said as she
disconnected the line.
     I looked at Walter. The veracity of Mrs. Granger's
statement hit me with a force that I had not expected. All
my doubts about him in these past few weeks began to
crumble. "Yes, he is," I said to myself as I hung up the
phone.
     

*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****


     I sat outside on the steps of the veranda. Mrs.
Granger's statement referring to Walter as an 'honorable
man' would not leave my thoughts. All the events of the last
few weeks played over and over again in my mind. This time
as I went through everything that I thought was true of
Walter and his behavior, I came to a different conclusion.
Before I had judged Walter guilty of betrayal. Now I found
that I was leaning towards his absolute innocence. But I
still had some serious questions. Questions that somehow I
still didn't quite have the nerve to ask.
     Walter's explanation for his being with Krycek in D.C.,
sounded more plausible to me as the day wore on. Perhaps he
really had been there to protect my interests. Almost a
month ago, I had been so certain that Walter had sacrificed
me and the love that we shared because of his loyalty to the
Bureau.  Now I wasn't quite so sure.
     The clouds loomed heavy overhead. Another storm was
brewing off shore and would soon be upon us. I watched the
trees bend and sway in the wind. Although I had been out
here for almost an hour, I found it strange that I was only
now starting to feel the cold.
     I felt Walter's presence at the parlour window before I
actually saw him standing there looking at me. I knew he was
worried about me. Not only because of my strange behavior
this afternoon, but because I hadn't wanted to talk to him
since I had had the conversation with Mrs. Granger.
     After speaking with her, I quickly related to Walter
that his rental car had been found and that once the roads
had been cleared in a day or two, that we would drive into
town and he could retrieve it from the local garage. Walter
had desperately wanted to continue the serious conversation
that we had started before she called. Instead I began to
haul the pieces of the brass bedframe that I had been
restoring upstairs. 
     I spent the next few hours in the master bedroom,
alone, reassembling the frame. Walter offered to help me but
I refused. This was my project and I wanted to complete it
on my own. I needed the distraction to keep my mind
occupied. I had learned some facts today that I needed time
to analyze. Working on the brass bedframe had given me that
time.
     My task done, I had gone downstairs and straight
outside. I was avoiding Walter. I was ashamed of that fact,
but I didn't know what else to do. What could I say to him?
How could I tell him how sorry I was that I had misjudged
him so harshly? That I hadn't even given him a fair chance
to explain.
     I heard the front door of the house open. Walter
stepped outside and sat down beside me on the front steps.
He reached over and took my hand in his. I felt his warmth
course through me. It was a feeling that I had missed and
ached for ever since I had left D.C. I looked at him as I
felt the tears well up in my eyes again. There was so much I
wanted to say to him. So much that I needed to say, but I
didn't know where or how to begin. I felt so awful inside.
     Walter reached up and wiped the tears from my cheeks.
He smiled shyly at me then wrapped his strong arms around me 
and held me close as I cried.


*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      ***** 


     "Are you going to talk to me or what?" Walter asked.
His voice was laced with frustration. "Outside you were
really starting to open up, Beth. Now that we're inside and
warm--"
     I looked at him. "I don't think you really want to hear
what I have to say." I sat crossed legged on the couch. I
was extremely angry with myself for breaking down and crying
out on the front steps not half an hour ago. I was also
upset because Walter was there to comfort me. I didn't want
to be comforted.
     "Try me," Walter replied. 
     We sat silently for awhile, staring at each other. I
could hear the branches of the trees closest to the house
scrape along the roof. Another storm would soon start. But
it would be nothing compared to the tempest inside that
Walter and I could no longer avoid.
     "All right," I finally said, trying to keep my voice
calm. I breathed deeply and began, "Just how did you find
out that I was here in Maine anyway? I was very careful not
to use any of my credit cards and the last time I took any
money from an ATM was at Dulles airport the day I left D.C."
     Walter smiled slightly. "I know. I ran several bank
record and credit slip checks on you. Except for your cash
withdrawal at the airport, they all came up blank. I knew
that I wouldn't be able to find you, if you didn't want to
be found. Not for a long time anyway."
     "So?"
     "So after a week of exhausting all the electronic
resources of the Bureau at my disposal and I still couldn't
find you, I did the only thing I could think of. I phoned
Gwen," he said simply.
     I smiled brazenly at him. "I was there when you
called," I said. I felt a strange sense of delight, letting
him know that I'd actually been in Minnesota with my friend.
     Walter's face reflected my smile. "I know, Beth."
     Anger shot through me. "How'd you _know_ that? Did you
get one of your colleagues from the St. Paul office to spy
on me?"
     "No," he answered calmly. Walter sat back in the
armchair. "Gwen told me."
     I glared at him. What was he playing at? "No, she
didn't," I said with certainty. "I was there when you
called, remember? I heard everything she said to you."
     Walter sighed. "She phoned my office yesterday morning.
She told me everything, Beth. How you had stayed with her
the first ten days after you left me. How miserable you
were.  She told me that you had left Minnesota almost two
weeks ago and that I could find you at your grandparent's
home in Maine. So I booked the first flight north that I
could get yesterday afternoon. It got me as far as Boston. I
could have waited there for a commuter flight to Portland
later that evening and then driven here, but I was so afraid
I'd lose you again. So I rented a car in Boston and drove
like mad from there. I was making pretty good progress too.
Then I ran into the storm. It was worse than I had realized.
You know the rest." He looked at me with total sincerity.
"I'd forgotten all about this place, Beth. Without Gwen's
help, I would never have found you so quickly. I'd still be
in D.C. slowly going crazy wondering where you were."
     "She shouldn't have told you anything," I complained.
"I thought she was my friend."
     "She _is_ your friend, Beth. A damned good one, too.
Gwen phoned to tell me where you were because she was
worried about you. She also felt guilty about lying to me
when she said you weren't at her place." Walter paused, then
continued, "You shouldn't have asked her to do that, Beth.
You of all people know how Gwen feels about being truthful."
     "She didn't lie to you," I said defending my actions.
"I wasn't _in_ her home when you called. I was--"
     "Standing outside on the back veranda," Walter finished
my sentence for me. "Very clever." From the tone of his
voice I knew he did not mean it as a compliment.
     I looked at the fireplace and watched the flames lick
at the logs. I hated the chastising tone of his voice. More
than that, I hated the feelings of uneasiness and anger that
rose in me. "Why did you come here?" I finally asked. 
     "To explain to you what happened in D.C. To explain
what I was doing with Krycek," he said slowly. "And because
I love you."
     "Love me?" I repeated sarcastically, as I turned to
face him again. "You love me?"
     "Yes, I do," Walter answered sincerely.
     I smirked. "Please, Walter." I heard the anger in my
own voice. "We both know we've never been more to each other
than an occasional good time in the sack." As soon as the
words left my lips, I regretted saying them. But it was too
late.
     The look that crossed Walter's face chilled me to the
bone. My words had hurt him deeply. Through clenched teeth
and in the most stern tone of voice he'd ever used with me,
he said, "I've never just _fucked_ you, Beth!"
     I glanced down at my hands. I couldn't face him.
     "Everytime we've been together, I was making love to
you," Walter continued. "From that first night, I've done
nothing less than make love to you. And you damned well know
that!" 
     I put my head in my hands. "I don't know anything
anymore." I swallowed hard. All the pain and turmoil that
I'd been feeling for weeks could no longer be contained.
"Why didn't you just tell me that you were negotiating with
Krycek? Why did you have to let me find out about it the way
I did?" I started to cry again. I was so hurt and so
confused.
     "You'd already been through so much, Beth," Walter said
softly. "I was trying to protect you."
     Something in his voice brought me out of my own pain
momentarily. I sat up straight and looked at him. 
     Walter's handsome face was clouded with sadness and
regret. "No wonder you thought the worst of me when you
discovered us at the safehouse. I'd let you down before." He
was on the verge of tears. "I had failed to protect you from
Krycek and he...he raped you. When you needed me most I
wasn't there for you, Beth. And you were forced to pay a
very high price for my mistakes. How could you think I was
doing anything different this time?"
     "Walter," I said. "I don't hold you responsible for the
rape." I watched as he quickly wiped away the tears that
rolled silently down his face. "You were knocked
unconscious. You had no way of knowing what Krycek did. You
had no way of knowing what would happen. For God's sake, you
were hurt!"
     "I should have protected you from him." He looked at
me. "You are the most important thing in the world to me,
Beth. And I'll never forgive myself for gambling with your
safety. For causing you such pain." Walter hung his head and
I saw the depth of the grief he felt as he tried to hide his
tears.
      I got off the couch and knelt before him. I took his
face in my hands. I looked deep into his eyes. "You have
nothing to feel guilty about. It wasn't your fault."
     Walter stared back at me with blank eyes. "I should
have been able to protect you. That's what a man does for
the woman he loves. He keeps her safe. He shelters her from
all harm. I failed to do that for you, Beth. You were right
to leave me."
     I had never seen him so vulnerable, so broken. It
scared me. What was worse was I realized that my hasty
actions had done this to him. By judging him so harshly. By
thinking him capable of betrayal, I had helped destroy part
of his confidence in himself and his abilities. The thing
inside that he felt played a big part in his definition as a
man.
     I shook my head. "No, Walter. That's not true. I
shouldn't have left you the way I did. I shouldn't have run.
I should have given you a chance to explain." I paused and
took a deep breath, trying to remain in control of my
emotions. I had to be strong. I had to be able to get
through to him that I understood. "I know now that you were
only trying to protect me from further harm. You didn't mean
to keep the knowledge of the negotiations with Krycek from
me forever."
     "I wanted to tell you, Beth," he said sadly. "I just
couldn't find the right time." I saw the life return to his
sad, brown eyes as he remembered. "I knew you'd be hurt and
angry and you had every right to be. But you had started to
make such great progress with Dr. Solomon. You were coming
to terms with everything. And I was afraid that knowing
about the pending deal with Krycek would cause a relapse. I
just didn't want you hurt anymore." He paused and looked
directly at me. "And then the days went by and then it was
weeks and--"
     "It was too late to tell me," I finished his sentence.
"And everyday it was harder and harder to keep the news from
me. But because of all the time that past--" I stopped and
swallowed my tears. "I understand your motives, Walter. I
understand why and how..."
     "I'm so sorry, Beth," he said. 
     I smiled at him through my tears, "I know, so am I. I'm
sorry I didn't believe you that day when you asked me to
give you a chance. I'm sorry I ran away and hid from you and
the truth for so long. I want you to know that I understand
how hard it was for you to keep everything from me. How each
day the deception ate at you and yet you had to go on. I
want you to know, I know." 
     Walter looked at me strangely, trying to comprehend
what I was telling him. "How could you know?" he asked.
     I took a deep breath and rose to my feet. I walked to
the fireplace and looked at the flames. I prayed for the
courage to continue. Finally I said the words to him that
I'd wanted to say for a very long time, "I know because I've
been keeping something from you. Something that I should
have told you long ago." The silence in the room was
deafening, as Walter pondered the meaning behind my
statement. I glanced back at him.
     "What are you talking about, Beth? What are you trying
to tell me?" He paused and I saw the panic grow in his eyes
as he asked, "Did Krycek hurt you more than anyone knows?"  
     "No, Walter. This has nothing to do with Krycek or the
rape," I said trying to calm him. "This is something that
happened a long time ago. Something that I did. At the time
I thought it was right. That there was no other solution. I
know now I should have told you sooner. But like you, I was
waiting for the right time. But that time never came. And
then it was too late, years had gone by. And I knew you'd be
terribly hurt if I told you now. And I didn't want to hurt
you."
     "What is it? What did you do?" he asked. I heard the
concern and bewilderment in his voice.
     I looked into his gentle brown eyes. Eyes that held so
much love for me. "This is so hard, Walter..." I began.
      "You know you can tell me anything, Beth," he said
sincerely.
     Though deep inside something begged me to go no
further, I couldn't stop now. I had to go on. I had waited a
long time for this moment. To finally confess my secret to
Walter. I sighed deeply and said in a barely audible
whisper, "Seven years ago, I had an abortion."


*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****


End of Part Three

(To be continued)       


From  Tue Jan 14 13:20:30 1997





                         CONSECRATION
                         (A sequel to IRONIC)
                              by
                         Marjory A. Cwynar





Part Four



     I poured the stew that I had kept warming on the stove
from its saucepan into a plastic container. I placed the pan
in the sink and the leftovers in the fridge. It was almost
8:30 p.m. and there was still no sign of Walter. The rain
had started again sometime ago and I was way beyond worried.
I was frantic. But there was nothing I could do.
      My confession had shocked him. He hadn't said a word.
He just sat silently in the armchair staring at me as the
reality of my statement hit home. After several minutes, I
watched as he got to his feet. There was heartbreak in his
voice when he finally spoke. "I can't believe you didn't
even give us a chance to be a family," he said. Walter left
the room then and a few seconds later I heard the front door
slam behind him.
     Even though there had not been a power failure yet
tonight, I walked into the parlour to check the lamp that I
had placed in the front window when the rain began. There
was more than enough kerosene oil in the well of the lamp to
keep the flame burning for hours. Its light had once before
led Walter safely through the darkness and the storm to me.
I prayed that it would do the same tonight.
     I sat on the couch and drew my knees up to my chest. I
berated myself over and over again for telling Walter about
the abortion. What had I been thinking? I should have known
better than to believe that he would have reacted to the
news any other way. But I truly had not meant to hurt him. I
had just had a sudden overwhelming need to unburden myself.
To finally share with Walter the secret that I never should
have kept from him. I cried silently as I watched the flames
die out in the fireplace. My mind raced in all directions.
The worry and the pain and the knowledge that my revelation
had caused Walter such anguish ate at my soul. I cried for
him, for myself and for the child that I alone had decided
seven years ago would never be born.
     

*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****


     I heard the sound of running water. Through the haze of
sleep, I realized that someone was in the shower upstairs.
Walter. He must be back. I looked at my wristwatch. It was
now almost 10 p.m. I quickly got up from the couch and
walked tentatively to the staircase. Part of me wanted to
race up the stairs, rush into the bathroom and see for
myself that he was all right. But I knew that Walter would
not appreciate such an intrusion. If he had wanted to talk
to me, he would have awakened me when he got in. Or at least
made enough noise to let me know that he had returned.
Instead he had chosen to go quietly upstairs, avoiding all
contact with me. Although I didn't like it, I had to respect
his actions. Afterall, I was the one who had hurt him. I had
to be patient. I had to let him come to me. 
     I checked the lock on the front door and turned off the
light in the hall. But since the rain was still falling
heavily, I left the kerosene lamp burning in the parlour
window. I was halfway up the stairs when Walter came out of
the bathroom. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and he
carried his clothes in a bundle under his right arm. He
looked tired and extremely sad as he walked down the hall.
Walter saw me, too. For a second we both stopped and just
stared at each other, then he broke our gaze and quickly
turned into his bedroom. By the time I reached the top of
the stairs, he had already closed his door. 
     I walked silently past his room and entered my own
across the hall. I was exhausted physically, emotionally and
spiritually. I tried to ignore the ache that I felt inside.
Instead I focused on Walter and the pain that he was so
obviously experiencing. A pain that I had caused and for
which I would forever be remorseful. I sighed as I turned
out the light and quickly undressed, tossing my clothes into
a pile in the corner of the room. Crawling into bed, I found
no comfort in the darkness, no rest in the solitude of the
night. I lay awake for what seemed like hours wondering how
Walter and I had become not much more than a source of agony
for one another. 


*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****


     The day did not started well for either of us. We had a
silent breakfast where neither one of us ate much and during
which Walter had not looked at me for more than a few
seconds. Afterwards we spent a totally unbearable morning of
trying to avoiding each other.
     Lunch had not been any better. Though this time as we
ate, we had a short, trite conversation concerning the
weather. The forecast for the area had been steady rainfall
for today and more of the same for the rest of the week.
Shortly after we finished eating, I started to clear the
dirty dishes from the table. Walter politely thanked me for
lunch and offered to help with the clean up, but I dismissed
him saying that it wasn't necessary. He stood silently in
the doorway for a few minutes. I knew he was watching me. I
turned my attention to the sink and a few seconds later he
left the kitchen. I listened to his heavy footsteps as he
climbed the stairs and entered his room, where he once again
closed his door.
     I kept myself busy for a good part of the afternoon
going through the cupboards, the fridge and the pantry
trying to figure out menus for the next few days. Since we
were housebound and the road to the village had not yet been
totally cleared, I was concerned that we may run short of
food before this weather broke. The last time I was at the
market in the village, I had bought some items in bulk and
others in single portions. I had not been expecting company.
And now that Walter was here, certain items were being
consumed at double the rate. Once I reassured myself that we
would have enough to eat for the rest of the week, though
not a widely varied diet, I left the kitchen and headed for
the stairs and a much needed bath.
     By accident, I found Walter sitting on the couch in the
parlour, studying intently the family photo album that my
grandmother had so lovingly kept. I stood in the doorway of
the parlour watching him for a few moments. I was touched as
he turned the pages in the old album carefully, paying
special attention to the condition of the aged, faded
photographs of my relatives. Every now and then he'd go back
a page or two. To me it appeared he was examining and re-
examining faces, searching the subsequent generations for
similarities and family traits.
     "Your family has lived in this house for a long time.
Haven't they, Beth?" Walter's question surprised me. I
hadn't realized that he knew I was there.
     "Since 1903," I answered slowly. "Two years before, my
great-grandfather Gwilym Rhys jumped ship from a British
naval vessel when they docked in New York."
     Walter looked up from the album and smiled at me.
"Really? He went AWOL from the British Navy?" He was
genuinely surprised and interested.
     I nodded my head as I walked into the room. "He was 20
years old. When he had enlisted, the navy was a better
option than contracting 'black lung' as his father and two
of his older brothers had done from working in the coal
mines of Wales. But after six years at sea, he'd had enough.
He lived in New York for awhile, then he made his way north 
and eventually settled here." I sat down beside Walter.
"There is a picture of him on the first page. He was about
15 when it was taken."
     Walter turned to the front of the album. The worn photo
in the upper left corner showed a grinning tow-head lad in a
period naval uniform standing proudly on a crowded pier in
the Orient. "This picture was taken in Hong Kong circa 1896.
The only other photo we have of him is when he married in
1902. My great-grandmother Anna was the kitchen maid for a
well-to-do family from a town not too far from here. She and
Gwilym met at a box social that the local parish held every
spring. She was 19 and had been an orphan since she was
small. She died in 1920 when the Spanish influenza epidemic
swept the area. My grandfather Llewellyn, their youngest
child, was only 5 years old that year. Gwilym never
remarried. He raised their four children here in the home
that he and Anna had built."
     I flipped a few pages forward in the photo album. "This
is my Grampa Llewellyn and my Gran Emily as I'll always
remember them. They were two of the kindest people you'd
ever want to meet. I took this snapshot myself when I was 12
with a camera they bought for me. And it wasn't my birthday
or anything." I smiled at the picture of my grandparents
seated on the porch swing of this very house. "The summers
that I spent here after...after Danny's accident were really
great. I just loved it here, always hated to leave. Even
after the 'terrible trio' started spending their vacations
here, too."
     Walter raised his eyebrows. "Terrible trio?"
     I shrugged sheepishly. "Turn the page."
     An 8x10 professionally taken portrait of three little
blonde girls, obviously sisters, dressed in varying hues of
pink party dresses complete with crinolines, dominated the
album. "Debbie, Bonnie and Jennifer Hanson. My Aunt Pamela's
daughters. Three of the most stuck-up, spoiled, useless
girls I'd ever met," I said truthfully. 
     "They look sweet," Walter said. "Totally harmless."
     "Well, they were anything but nice," I responded. "They
still are." I smiled slightly. "I know it's petty, but even
now I don't like them. They always travelled as a pack when
we were young and I was always the outsider."
     "Kids can be cruel," Walter stated then looked at me.
"I think I found a couple pictures of you in here." He
quickly turned to a page and pointed to a photo. "That's
you. Isn't it?"
     It was me all right. I was eight, hanging upside down
by my knees from a tree branch, my long, dark hair flying
loosely in the breeze. "Yes. And that's Danny in the cowboy
hat, standing below me." I leaned against the back of the
couch and remembered the day that photo was taken.
     "You both seemed very happy," Walter said. "Just look
at those grins."
     "We were happy," I recalled. "Danny always loved it
when I did 'daring' stunts like that. I remember him telling
me many times as I scampered up a tree, that he thought I
was 'so brave'. But Charlotte weren't pleased at all that
day. And Evan, being Evan, always let her moods dictate our
lives. She was furious with my grandfather because he had
allowed me to do such a thing. Saying that he even
reinforced my reckless behavior by taking this photograph."
I shrugged and went on with my story. "I knew I wouldn't
fall. And so did Grampa. I was a regular monkey. I'd been
climbing the trees around here whenever we visited since I
was three years old. Grampa Llewellyn said I'd inherited my
natural ability from his father Gwilym who used to scale the
rigging of the naval ships. I remember wondering what the
big fuss was all about. Evan and Charlotte had never shown
any concern or interest in my climbing activities before.
Then I heard Charlotte tell my grandfather, 'Bethany could
have fallen from the tree and hurt Danny.'"
     Walter shook his head and made a face. He turned his
attention to the photo album again. This time on another
page, he pointed out a family portrait of Evan, Charlotte,
Danny and me. It was the last photo taken of us as a family
unit before Danny died. "You never call your parents 'Mom
and Dad', Beth. Why?" he asked.
     I looked at the picture. We were all in our Sunday best
and we were all dutifully flashing our public smiles. "My
parents were never the 'Mom and Dad' type, Walter. Danny and
I learned at an early age not to bother them," I answered.
"We also were instructed that we were always to call them
'Mother' and 'Father'. I took it a step further when I
started using their Christian names when I was almost 12." I
took the album from Walter's lap. A few pages back, I found
the snapshot I was looking for. I handed the volume back to
him. "That's Evan and Charlotte in happier times," I told
him. My parents stood in front of an ivy-covered brownstone
building, arms wrapped around each other, beaming brightly,
obviously very much in love. "That was taken when they both
were at college in Ontario. That's where they met. After
graduation, Evan took a job with an engineering firm based
in Toronto. He and Charlotte were married and a year later,
I was born."
     Walter and I sat silently for a few minutes. I looked
at him. We had not spoken so freely with each other in
weeks. It was nice to be on friendly terms again, even if it
was only temporary.
      Walter closed the album and put it on the endtable to
his right. "Your family and its history is very important to
you, isn't it, Beth?"
     "Uh-huh. Gran and I used to go over that album at least
once a week when I'd stay here. It wasn't long before I knew
all the life stories of all my relatives and the legends and
everyone's names. And then when her eyesight started to
fail, I'd describe the pictures and recite everything I had
learned back to her. It gave me a real sense of belonging. A
connection to the past through the present." Something that
I never got from my parents, I thought to myself. 
     Walter's face was suddenly very serious. "Then why,
Beth? Why did you have the abortion? We could have been part
of this history. You, me and our child."
      I studied his eyes. They were imploring me to help him
understand something that he found totally implausible. "I
had good reasons. At least I thought they were at the time,"
I said slowly.
     "But to not even tell me that you were pregnant.
Beth..." he couldn't continue his sentence.
     I swallowed hard. "I know now that that was wrong. And
I'm so sorry, Walter. But seven years ago..." I paused.
"Think back to where we both were at that time. You were
next in line to be A.D. You were really excited about the
prospect. And I was stationed at the Canadian embassy in
London. A post as junior attach‚ had just opened at our
embassy in Oslo. I really wanted that job, Walter. Remember?
That's all I talked about that week when you came to visit
me. It was the next step on my way to someday being an
ambassador myself. And...it was early days for us still, as
a couple I mean."
     "Early days!" Walter interrupted me. "We'd been
together for three years already!" I saw as he struggled to
maintain control though I knew he was extremely upset.
     "And just how many days of that three years had we
actually spent together, Walter? Twenty? Thirty?" Recalling
my reasons and emotions from seven years ago, I tried to
keep my voice calm as I continued to explain. "I honestly
didn't know how you'd react to the news that you were going
to be a father. A small part of me hoped that you'd be
happy. That having a child with me would be something that
you'd really want. But another part kept reminding me that
we didn't know each other very well. I didn't want you to
think that I was trying to trap you. To force you to accept
a responsibility that you might not have even considered
part of your future." I stopped and closed my eyes. "The
pregnancy was a shock to me, too, Walter. I kept asking
myself over and over again if a child really fit into either
of our lifestyles at that moment. Especially a child that
wasn't expected -- an accident. And as hard as it was, I had
to admit something to myself, too. I was afraid." I paused
and cleared my throat. "I was afraid of the kind of mother I
would be. Charlotte was not a good role model for anyone to
have. And I never wanted a child of mine to feel the way
that Danny and I felt most of the time. That we were nothing
but a bother -- a burden to be shouldered bravely in public
and ignored in private. Yet growing up in the atmosphere I
did, I stood a good chance of being exactly like her. But I
also knew in my heart that at that time I wasn't ready to
raise a child on my own."
     "You wouldn't have been alone, Beth," Walter said
sadly. "I'd have married you. I'd have given you all the
help and support that I could. I'd have done whatever you
wanted." I heard the sincerity in his voice.
     I turned my head and gazed into his tear-filled eyes.
Though he tried to hide it, I knew he was in great pain. My
own tears were already falling freely down my cheeks. "Out
of a sense of duty? Out of obligation?" I said weakly.
     Walter took my hand. "No, Beth. Out of love."
     The heartfelt truth of his statement tugged at my
entire being. "You loved me even then?" I asked. His
admission had genuinely surprised me.
     Walter touched my face tenderly. "I've always loved
you, Beth." He pulled me into his embrace. For the first
time I didn't fight the fact that I found comfort in his
arms. I cried softly as he held me.
     "I'm so sorry, Walter," I said between sobs. "As the
years went by and we were still together, I realized that
I'd made a mistake. A terrible mistake. But it was too late.
Our child was gone. And I couldn't change that. I couldn't
change what I'd done."
     Walter held me tighter. He ran his hands down my back,
soothingly. "It's all right, Beth. It's all right," he said
over and over again. "I know now that having the abortion
wasn't an easy decision for you. I think I'm even beginning
to understand how...why." I buried my face into his
shoulder. Walter kissed the top of my head. "I'm sorry that
you felt you had no other choice but to handle this all on
your own, Beth," he continued. "And most of all, I'm sorry
that I didn't make it clear to you how deeply I loved you
then. Maybe if you had known..." 
     I felt his body shake as he held me in his arms. Walter
cried silently as we grieved for our loss together. After
several minutes he was again in control. I raised my head
from his shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. I saw
forgiveness and love. But instead of finding solace in this,
suddenly I was frightened. More frightened than I'd ever
been. I pulled back from him. "Don't," I said. I breathed
rapidly. "Please don't."
     Walter looked at me. He was puzzled by my sudden change
of behavior. "What? What is it, Beth?"
     "Don't do this, Walter," I said quickly. "Don't be kind
to me. Don't forgive me. Don't say you love me."
     "But I do, Beth. I do love you," he said calmly, but I
saw the concern in his eyes.
     "Don't!" I screamed at him. I got up from the couch. I
was in a panic. "Don't! You can't!"
     Walter grabbed my arm and spun me around so that I had
to face him. He stood before me. "Why? Why can't I love you?
Why don't you want me to love you?" he demanded.
     "Because," I cried as I tugged trying to free my arm
from his grasp. But Walter wouldn't let me go. This time he
wasn't going to let me run.
     "Why shouldn't I love you, Beth?" he asked again
forcefully.
     I stared at him. "Because!" I breathed deeply. "Because
I don't deserve it!"
     "Don't deserve to be loved?" Walter said with total
disbelief. He narrowed his eyes and looked at me. "Is that
what you think, Beth?" Slowly he raised his hand and touched
my cheek. "My God, that's it," he said softly. "You really
believe that, don't you? You've believed that all your
life." He pulled me close and wrapped his strong arms around
me once more.
     I cried uncontrollably as I tightly held on to him.
"Yes," I whispered. "I don't deserve your love. I don't
deserve anyone's."
     Walter raised my chin and looked deep into my eyes.
"That's not true, Beth. That's not true."


*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****
     

     I welcomed the feel of the shower spray against my
skin. The emotional strain of the past hours had taken a
heavy toll on me. I was weary. After years of diligent
maintenance and solid fortification, walls that I had
careful constructed brick by brick had crumbled quickly. By
making me say aloud the words that I believed to be true,
Walter had finally succeeded in breaking down all my
defenses. No longer did I have the security of detached
emotions. No longer could I hide from the world. No longer
could I hide from Walter or myself. As hard as this
afternoon had been on me, I realized now that it had also
been strangely liberating as well. The heaviness that had
been with me for as long as I could remember was gone. And
the one person that I had to thank for that was Walter
Skinner.
     I rinsed the last remanents of the shampoo lather from
my hair and reached for the bottle of conditioner. The
lights in the bathroom flickered once, twice, then went out
completely. "Great!" I said as the windowless room was
plunged into total darkness. I poured a measure of
conditioner into the palm of my left hand and massaged it
into my hair. With my right, I tried to return the bottle to
the shelf. But the wet bottle slipped from my hand and
rattled as it bounced in the tub at my feet. I cursed as I
tried first with one foot, then with my hands to locate and
retrieve it.
     As I chased the wayward bottle around the floor of the
tub, amid the constant spray of the shower, I noticed that
the room had grown slightly brighter. Though the light was
dim, it did allow me to see. No longer blind, I quickly
picked up the bottle and pulled back the shower curtain an
inch or two just in time to see the bathroom door close.
Sitting on the vanity burned a lone candle. Its flame
reflected in the mirror behind.
     The candlelight allowed me to finish my shower without
further mishap. A few minutes later, I turned off the water
taps and heard for the first time the thunder that continued
almost unceasingly as it rolled across the sky. Another
storm was definitely in full force. I listened to the wind
drive the rain harshly and beat it against the walls and the
roof of the house. 
     I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped from the
tub, shivering as the cool air of the room enveloped me.
Quickly I put on my robe. The thick terry material clung to
my wet skin. I wrapped a towel around my hair, tucking the
end of it up into a turban. Glancing at myself in the
mirror, I smiled as I realized that I saw no trace of the
former inherent sadness that had permeated my very being
since childhood. I felt free. Though I knew that I still had
a long way to go to deal with the past that haunted me, I
understood now what Dr. Solomon had tried to tell me during
my counselling sessions. I would never be able to embrace my
life and my future until I was able to free myself of the
guilt that I felt. Today I realized that I was capable of
actually achieving that goal. And with the help and guidance
of Dr. Solomon, I knew someday I would.
     The reflection of the flame of the candle that Walter
had so thoughtfully brought to me, danced in the mirror
beside me. I smiled as I thought how Walter was like this
candle. His love and kindness had shown me that there was a
way out of the darkness. All I had to do now was not be
afraid to follow the path into the light.     
     Picking up the candle, I opened the bathroom door and
walked out into the dark hall. To my right, I saw that the
door of my room was slightly ajar allowing a welcoming beam
of pale light to escape and beckon me in. I entered the
bedroom and closed the door behind me. The soft glow of the
hurricane lamp that Walter had lit and placed on the
nightstand filled the room. 
     "Feeling better?" he asked. Walter was lying on my bed
with his hands laced under his head. He was fully clothed
except for his bare feet. "I hope you don't mind," he said.
"But I took a nap while you were in the shower."
     I walked to the dresser and put down the candle.
"Something wrong with your room?" I asked.
     Walter rolled onto his side to face me. "It's too
lonely in my room, Bethany." I watched as the light from the
candle twinkled in his brown eyes. "I don't want to be by
myself anymore," he answered. His voice was low and
possessed a tonal quality that made me shiver.
     I removed the towel from my head and hung it over the
back of the chair that sat in front of the closet door.
Staring at Walter, I ran my hand through my damp hair. He
was still the most desirable man I had ever seen. Ever would
see. Even in the half light of the kerosene lamp, I could
see the well defined muscles of his chest through the
sweatshirt that he wore. I felt the familiar yearning grow
inside me.
     I breathed deeply. "Me, either," I told him truthfully.
     An ardent smile slowly crossed Walter's handsome face.
We looked deep into each others eyes. "Come here, Beth," he
said as he patted the bed beside him.
     I looked around the bedroom. I studied the pink and
yellow roses on the wallpaper. This was the room that I had
loved since I was a little girl. The room that I had chosen
to stay in since my return. The room that gave me the sense
of security that I had so desperately needed. This was a
room of childhood innocence and the past.  
     "Not here," I said quietly.
     Walter arched his eyebrows as he sat up and swung his
legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet on the floor.
"My room?" He looked at me with anticipation.
     I shook my head. Walter walked over to me. He reached
out and touched my cheek. "It's raining outside, Beth," he
said as he smiled sheepishly.
     I returned his grin. "I have a special place in mind,"
I said as I turned and picked up the candle. "Bring the lamp
and come with me."
     I opened the door and we stepped into the hall. I lead
Walter to the doorway of the room next to mine. We entered
the darkened room and closed the door. I put the candle on
the small table that stood in front of the window. The brass
bed that I had spent days restoring stood against the far
wall. It shone brightly in the light from the hurricane lamp
that Walter put down on the nightstand. Outside the house,
lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Inside all I could
hear was the beating of my heart.
      "This room belonged to my grandparents," I told him.
"They were happy together and stayed in love with each other
for over 50 years." I walked to the bed and ran my hands
over the cool, clean metal of the frame. "I want our first
night back together to be here, Walter. In this room. In
this bed." I turned and faced him. "Too corny?"
     Walter shook his head as he reached for me and ran his
hands lightly up my arms to my shoulders. I read the passion
in his eyes and knew that he saw the same in mine. I stepped
into his embrace. We kissed softly, sweetly. My heart raced
as the weeks of separation melted away. Parting my lips I
welcomed his tongue into my mouth, savoring the taste of
him. I had missed his kisses more than I had thought
possible.
     As we continued to kiss, Walter moved his right hand
inside my robe and gently cupped my bare breast. I tingled
as his touch caused tiny electric shocks to run up and down
my spine. I slid my hands to Walter's waist and pulled his
sweatshirt up, running my eager hands from his waist to his
furry chest. I felt his muscles tense and release as he
breathed deeply. Walter broke our kiss and stepped back.
With one tug he pulled his shirt from his body and tossed it
to the floor. 
     Walter untied the belt of my robe. I stepped closer to
him. We kissed again. With each kiss our hunger and need for
each other increased. His hands found their way inside my
open robe. His gentle touch moved slowly along my sides and
up my back. I trembled with anticipation as he slipped the
terry robe from my shoulders and it fell to the floor. I
stood naked before him. Walter gazed at me with want and
desire in his eyes. He pulled my body against his. His chest
hair scraped and teased the erect nipples of my breasts. I
leaned heavily against him as he held me in his strong arms.
     Walter planted kisses along my neck and down my
cleavage. With his hand massaging one of my breasts,
Walter's mouth found the nipple of the other. He playfully
bit and suckled as I moaned with pleasure. I felt his bulge
through his tight jeans as Walter pressed his hips into my
bare flesh. I reached down with both hands to undo the
button at his waistband and unzip his fly. Walter groaned as
I gently inserted my right hand into his open jeans,
pressing my palm over his growing member through the boxer
shorts that he wore. I rubbed back and forth as Walter
continued to kiss and suckle at my breasts.
      "I want you, Beth," Walter whispered. His voice was
low. "It's been so long. I've missed you so much," he said.
He kissed my neck and shoulders, his hands exploring my
entire body.
     I pulled Walter's jeans from his hips and down his
strong legs. His dark green boxer shorts quickly followed.
Stepping out of his clothes, he moved back from me. I held
my breath as I ran my eyes over him, feeling myself blush
from head to toe with arousal at the sight of his naked
muscular body.  
     Walter smiled knowingly at me. Taking my hand, he led
me to the brass bed. "I love you, Beth," he said as he drew
back the covers. "Let me show you how much."
     In an instant I was in his arms and together we fell 
onto the cool sheets. Our bodies pressed close, our mouths
locked in a passionate kiss. Walter's partial erection grew
as I ground my hips into his. His hands caressed my flesh
and I explored his body with my own. 
     I had ached for this moment of intimacy between us for
many weeks. Sometimes hoping against hope that it would ever
happen. And now the time was here and it was all that I had
imagined and dreamed of and more. Walter laid flat on his
back and pulled me on top of him. I felt his big cock 
beneath me. I reached down and began to stroke him. His
penis responded immediately to my touch, throbbing and
increasing in size.
      Walter kissed my neck and kneaded my buttocks with his
strong hands. He whispered my name over and over again and
moaned with pleasure as I rubbed his cock harder and faster.
I felt his hand reach from behind me through my slightly
parted legs. His fingers darted in and out of my wet pussy.
I tightened my cunt muscles, squeezing his fingers. He
responded by moving his hand deeper into me, stretching and
probing my vaginal opening. Every now and then he'd take one
of his fingers slick with my own juices, from my pussy and
drag it up along the crack between my butt cheeks. The
sensations he stirred in me were driving me wild.
     I felt the orgasm build deep inside me. Feeling the
strength and thickness of his erection in my hands, I knew
that Walter was also ready. I kissed his mouth hungrily as I
straddled his hips, pulling back from his embrace and
spreading my legs wider. Gently yet firmly, I lowered myself
over his stiff shaft. I moved up and down his thick penis as
Walter pushed upwards into me.
     Walter's hands grabbed my ass and pulled me even closer
to him as the frequency of our thrusts increased. Through
the cloud of ecstasy that enveloped me I heard a distinct
squeak as the old bedframe moved with us. As the rhythm of
our coupling grew faster and harder, the squeak grew louder
and louder. I smiled to myself and closed my eyes, enjoying
the thrill that rushed through me. Walter continued to shove
his cock deeper into my wet cunt. I ran my hands over his
chest as I felt the first wave of orgasm wash over me. I
moaned and cried out his name as I came in a fury of emotion
and physical sensation. 
     As I regained my senses I realized the urgency of
Walter's pumping had increased. From the thickness of his
cock inside of me, I knew his own orgasm was close. I rode
him with a fierce intensity that surprised me. Each time as
I slid up and down his slick shaft, I tightened and squeezed
my cunt muscles. Walter moaned. I looked at him. In the soft
light of the kerosene lamp I watched as Walter's body moved
beneath me. The shadows cast by the candle and the lamp
accentuated the muscles of his chest and arms. I ran my
hands from his neck to his shoulders. With my fingertips, I
traced the outlines of his firm pectoral muscles. Glistening
beads of sweat had formed and clung to his chest hairs. His
scent intoxicated me and heightened my arousal. As I bounced
on his sturdy prick, I leaned forward to lick his wet skin.
I ran my tongue over and along every sculpted groove of his
upper body, paying special attention to his erect nipples
and savoring the salty, musky taste of his skin.            
     Walter groaned again, this time deeper and lower than
before. I raised my head, seeing the pleasure that was
etched on his face. Our eyes locked and I smiled back at
him. Walter placed a hand on each of my breasts and pinched
my nipples with his fingers. I shuddered with excitement as
I arched my back, silently begging him for more. I braced
myself for the orgasm that I could feel building again deep
inside me.
     We moved together again in perfect unison. I rocked
back and forth to allow my clitoris to rub against the base
of Walter's penis as I continued to slide up and down his
throbbing shaft. The sounds of our lovemaking filled the
room along with the ever present squeaking of the brass bed.
     The thunder crashed outside as I leaned forward again
and kissed him full on the mouth. Walter ran his hands up
and down my back and started to drive himself harder and
deeper into me. I sat back on my haunches. I moaned with
delight as I matched his thrusts with my own. Walter grabbed
me tightly around the waist as his own orgasm raced through
him. He cried out my name as his whole body arched beneath
me. I felt the strong spurts of his semen shoot deep inside,
filling every crevice of my womb. Another wave of pleasure
coursed through me and before Walter was totally spent, I
too had come again.
     Walter kissed me gently as I lay down on the bed beside
him. We held each other close. I felt the tears stream down
my cheeks as varying emotions swept over me. I sobbed as I
realized what had actually happened between the two of us.
Here. In this bed. In this room.
     Walter raised my face to his. I saw the concern in his
eyes. I knew what he was thinking, but he was wrong. 
     "You didn't hurt me," I told him as I smiled.
     "But you're crying, Beth... If I was too rough--"
     I put my fingertips on his lips. "These are happy
tears, Walter," I said. "Tears of joy."
     He looked at me strangely. "I thought that maybe I had
forced you to do something that you weren't ready for yet,"
he said quietly.
     I kissed the cleft on his chin, and then his lips. "I'm
fine, Walter. In fact, I'm better than fine," I said. "I'm
so thankful. Not only is this the first time we've made love
since the farmhouse. But it's the first time that I've been
able to totally and freely give myself to you. I have no
secrets to keep. No more walls to hide behind." I looked
deep into his gentle brown eyes. "I love you, Walter. I
really love you. And most important, I know you love me,
too."
     

*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****


     I woke to the crash of thunder as a bolt of lightning
momentarily lit the entire room. Walter smiled at me as I
snuggled closer. "How long have you been watching me sleep?"
I asked.
     "Maybe half an hour," he answered as he slid his hands
down my back. "Just as the storm started up again."
     It was raining heavily outside. But this time I didn't
mind. I was lying in the arms of the man I loved. A man who
truly loved me, too. I listened to the rain and the thunder.
And I secretly hoped that we could be stranded here forever.
     Stretching my leg out, I ran my left foot down the shin
of his right leg. "How exciting for you, watching me sleep,"
I teased.
     Walter planted a trail of kisses down my neck from my
ear to my shoulder. "Oh, it was," he said between kisses.
"It was."
     Our mouths found each other. The kisses we shared grew
in force and potency. The intense passion that we felt for
each other could no longer be denied or contained. Walter
lightly brushed the skin of my stomach as he moved his
fingers to my pubic mound. Finding my clitoris, he began to
rub it slowly. The sensations from the tiny circles he
traced over and around my lovebud shook me to the core. I
sighed and moaned as Walter continued his manual
stimulation. Closing my eyes, I lay flat on my back and
parted my legs wider, inviting him to proceed further.
     Walter inserted two fingers into my vagina gently
probing the interior. I could feel my juices flow freely as
he slid his fingers in and out of my pussy and up to my
clitoris again. Back and forth he went. Fingers in, fingers
out. The agony of the pleasure that he was giving me became
almost unbearable.
     "Walter. Walter, I need you," I said breathlessly.
"Please..." The words I wanted to say stuck in my throat as
I moaned.
     Walter pressed his mouth to my ear. "Not yet," he said.
His voice was low and husky. "I want to watch you come while
I touch you."
     I started to breath rapidly as the orgasm grew deep
inside me. Walter never stopped working the magic I felt
from his fingers. With his thumb teasing my clitoris, he
again placed his two fingers at the opening of my cunt. But
this time instead of fingerfucking me, he stroked my labia
roughly.
     Arching my back, I groaned and shivered in
anticipation. The strength of the orgasm that now was
swiftly building caused me to toss my head back and I moaned
aloud. Grabbing the sheets with my hands, I pulled and
rocked as Walter continued to rub and stroke and tease me.
I trembled and shook as wave after wave of erotic pleasure
surged through me. I didn't recognize my own voice as I
screamed out Walter's name. Raising my hips off the bed, I
seemed to hang in mid-air for several minutes. I felt
Walter's hand and fingers still stroking, still pressing
into me, urging me on to the heights of passion and beyond.
As the last throes of my orgasm shot through me, I fell back
onto the sheets weak, spent and sated. 
     As my breathing slowly returned to normal I opened my
eyes and saw Walter. He was looking down at me with the most
wondrous grin on his face. "So was it everything you
expected?" I asked.
     "I was just about to ask you the same thing," he
replied playfully, as he leaned over and kissed my mouth. 
     "It was everything and more," I said. "But I'll soon be
ready for another round." 
     Walter smiled at me. "You really are insatiable, aren't
you?"
     "Is that a complaint?" I quickly asked.
     Walter shook his head. "Just an observation".
     I propped myself up on my elbows, my breasts resting
against Walter's upper arm as I faced him. "I just found out
tonight that I come by it naturally." I grinned and asked,
"When we made love earlier, did you notice anything?"
     Walter smiled suggestively. "Just you and what you were
doing to me." He paused as he lightly stroked my face.
"Other than that, I was sort of preoccupied."
     I smiled back at him knowingly. "You didn't hear the
squeak?" 
     "What squeak?"
     "The bed. It squeaks. Very loudly, too," I explained.
     "Really?" Walter said as he kissed my cheek.
     "Uh-huh." I laid my head on his shoulder. "When I spent
my summer vacations here with my grandparents, I always
stayed in the room next to this one. The same room I've been
staying in since I arrived here. After we'd turn in at
night, sometimes I'd hear a noise. A special sound that
would lull me to sleep. I didn't know what it was then. But
I knew that it was a wonderful sound. One that made me feel
safe." I smiled up at Walter. "I found out tonight what that
sound was. It was the squeak, Walter. The same squeak this
bed produces when a couple is making love."
     Walter smiled as he pulled me to him and kissed me
gently. He held me close and caressed my body. I felt his
stiff penis brush against my hip. I reached for him and
began to stroke his cock with my hands. Walter's own hands
roamed over my body. Touching me, teasing me. He grabbed my
ass and pulled me flat onto my back.
     Walter lowered himself over me. I felt the tip of his
penis poke between my legs. I spread wide and helped him
guide his thick shaft into my wet pussy. I wanted him with a
fervor that was overwhelming. Slowly he pushed himself
deeper into me. With smooth effortless strokes he moved in
and out of my cunt. I clung to him as our thrusts increased
in speed and strength. I wrapped my legs tightly around him.
And just as I had noticed earlier, the brass bed began to
squeak. With each lunge that Walter took, the bed responded
with a corresponding noise. The faster he pumped, the louder
the squeak.
      His cock throbbed inside me. I felt the weight of his
body on mine. I looked at him. His eyes were closed as he
moved in and out of me, ecstasy on his face. I kissed his
neck and shoulders, matching his thrusts in intensity and
frequency. The squeak of the bed mimicked our every action.
     Walter opened his eyes and smiled at me. We continued
our lovemaking. The rhythm of our coupling matched by the
squeak of the brass bed that this time we both heard. I
kissed him passionately. He returned my kiss and worked his
way down my neck to my breasts. As he sucked and licked my
hard nipples, I marvelled at the strength and the power of
his body. I cherished our closeness. I knew we belonged
together. Our thrusts soon grew stronger. Walter raised his
head from my chest and looked at me. "I love you, Beth," he
said. "I always have." In minutes, we came together amid the
din of the storm, our passionate cries and the squeak of the
old brass bed.
     Later laying at Walter's side, I ran my hand across his
chest. I loved him so much and knew in my heart that our
reunion had been blessed. Consecrated in some mysterious
way. I raised my head and looked at him. He smiled at me.
     "Tell me, Beth," Walter said. "Just how many times
during your summer vacation would you hear this bed squeak?"
     I grinned. "I don't know. Maybe three or four times a
week. But my memory could be faulty. The last summer I spent
out here I was 17. And that was a long time ago."
     "So it could have been less?" he said with a wink.
     I kissed him deeply. "Or it could have been more."
     Walter arched his eyebrows and laughed out loud. "Well
then, I better start a strict regimen of vitamins and
exercise right away. Maybe I'll even see one of those
herbalists when we get back to D.C."
     "Why?" I asked as I searched his eyes for an
explanation to his strange statement.
     "Once we're married, I want to be able to keep up all
the husbandly duties that you Rhys women obviously expect
from your men," he answered.
     "Married?" I quickly responded. "Walter, who said--"
I stopped and stared at him.
     "You are going to marry me. Aren't you, Beth?"    
     

*****      *****      *****      *****      *****      *****


(The end?)