Title: Skinman 2: Courtside Seats
Author: ML
Originally posted 7/4/01
Distribution: Yes to the usual gang of suspects (and you know who you are!), but if you haven’t archived my stories before, please drop me a line and let me know, and leave headers, etc. attached. I thank you!
Spoilers: If you’ve seen the S8 finale, no surprises. Little references to past season eps here and there.
Rating: PG-13 (can’t get the guys to stop swearing!)
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: Skinner POV
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting. I am using them only for recreational purposes, mean no infringement, making no money.
Author’s notes: This is a continuation of a story I started in “Skinman on Campus.” If you haven’t read that one, you might want to before reading this one. More notes at end.
Summary: Skinner has a little glimpse into the Mulder-Scully family.
—————-
He is early. Not much of a surprise, really. Skinner is nearly always early, a habit instilled in him by his military training, one that he’s never tried to break.
Mulder, of course, is late, and this is no surprise, either. Mulder was seldom on time for meetings while at the FBI, though he somehow always managed to be Johnny-on-the-spot when Scully needed him.
Not too many minutes later, he sees the SUV pull up with Scully in the driver’s seat. Mulder is in the back, presumably sitting next to Will. Skinner sees him lean down to either speak to or kiss his son, then lean over the front seat to do the same to Scully. It makes a nice picture of a family, any family, on any Saturday morning. He feels a tiny surge of envy but suppresses it. If anyone has earned a normal life, it’s these two.
Skinner looks away until he hears the car door slam and he looks up to see Mulder, still standing by the driver’s window. Another word, another kiss, and he bounds toward Skinner’s car.
Skinner gets out and raises a hand to the vehicle. He thinks he sees Scully wave back through the glass before she drives away.
Mulder’s dressed in the rattiest shorts and sweatshirt Skinner has ever seen. He’s carrying a gym bag in one hand and a basketball in the other. Skinner feels a little too spit and polished next to Mulder, even though he’s just dressed in track pants and a nylon jacket over his shorts and tee shirt.
“Hey, Skinman,” Mulder calls, and Skinner winces. He tries not to rise to the bait, on the theory that Mulder will get bored with calling him that if Skinner doesn’t react to it. So far it isn’t working, but Skinner figures it’s bound to, sooner or later.
Since his guest lecture for Mulder’s class at the University, Skinner has gone to dinner at Mulder and Scully’s once, and taken them to dinner once. They don’t see each other all that often; the get-togethers take place at intervals of several weeks. Mulder calls fairly often, and even Scully has done so once or twice. Skinner is learning that it is okay to just call to say hello or to tell them an interesting bit of news. He’s never been given the impression that he’s calling at a bad time, or that his calls are unwelcome. Still, he feels a little awkward. He senses Mulder’s awkwardness, too, and suspects that Scully was the catalyst for the initial contact. Mulder as much as said so on that first day, though he seems genuinely interested in friendship with Skinner, too.
This is the first time Skinner and Mulder have done something together without Scully there, too. Over the years, Skinner has observed that Scully often acted as a buffer for Mulder against the outside world, and wonders if she’s been fulfilling that same function between him and Mulder. It strikes him that he and Mulder have a lot in common. They both tended to be loners and had few close friends.
“What are Dana and Will up to today?” Skinner asks as they enter the gym.
“Visiting Scully’s mom, and probably shopping or something,” Mulder says. They enter the basketball court and see that there are already three guys horsing around in a little one-on-one-on-one. The guys notice Mulder and Skinner standing in the doorway and they stop their play.
It’s interesting to Skinner to see Mulder in this context. He’s loose-limbed and entirely at ease in this environment. He greets the players already on the court, who seem to have at least a nodding acquaintance with Mulder.
“Hey Milk,” one of the men says. “I see you brought back-up. Tired of having your ass whipped?”
“No, seeing that it hasn’t happened yet,” Mulder replies with a grin. Handshakes all around as Skinner is introduced, and it is quickly decided that Mulder and Skinner will take on Toby, Kendrick, and Jamal.
Skinner strips off his track suit and puts it on top of his gym bag in the corner next to Mulder’s. Basketball has never been Skinner’s game; he’s always preferred boxing. But Mulder invited him, and he hadn’t wanted to turn him down.
There’s a lot of trash-talking during the course of the game. Skinner’s not much help with this. He’s never been one to talk just to hear his own voice. Mulder, however, is a virtuoso of quips and comebacks. And his hands and feet are almost as quick as his mouth.
Skinner finds that he and Mulder work pretty well together on the court. They play a pretty good game against the three, who obviously spend a lot more time on the court than either Skinner or Mulder, and are probably at least ten years younger than Mulder. Skinner concentrates on guarding Mulder when he has the ball, and otherwise assisting. He’s absurdly pleased when he actually makes a basket during a free throw.
At first, it appears that they might play to a draw, but eventually numbers and age take their toll and Mulder and Skinner concede defeat. A little more trash-talking ensues as handshakes are exchanged all around and then Mulder shows Skinner where the showers are.
“Hey, Skinman, you got game,” Mulder compliments him as they wash up and change.
“It’s been a while,” Skinner admits, but it pleases him that Mulder says that. At least he didn’t embarrass himself.
“Wanna go get a beer?” Mulder asks as they leave the gym. Skinner figures this is part of the plan for the day, and he readily agrees. It’s Saturday, after all, and what else would he do besides go home and watch whatever game is on TV?
Mulder directs him to a sports bar/pizza parlor not far away. He seems to be known here, too, as a couple of people greet him as they walk in.
Mulder buys the first round, and Skinner gets the popcorn from the machine by the bar. They drink in silence for a while. Skinner looks up at one of the many TVs ranged around the walls, trying to identify who’s playing whom.
“So, have they closed the X-Files division down yet?” Mulder asks suddenly. He could be making a joke, but Skinner takes it as a serious question.
“Not yet,” Skinner says. “Kersh has been laying off it lately. Might have something to do with his connection with Knowle Rohrer and Agent Bates.”
“You might want to get in touch with the Gunmen,” Mulder tells him. “They told me some stuff the other day that you and Doggett might find useful.”
“Thanks for the tip, Mulder,” Skinner says. “Doggett says he got a call from Byers the other day. Did you tell him to call?”
“Well, I left a message for Agent Doggett but I didn’t think he’d follow up with it. The information could be significant, and I can’t do anything with it.”
“What about Dana?” Skinner knows she’s not supposed to have anything official to do with the X-Files, but she has been known to help Agents Doggett and Reyes out on occasion.
“Scully actually suggested that I get Doggett to go visit the Gunmen, but it might be better if you took him,” Mulder explains. “I don’t want Scully to get in too deep with this, either. Our deal is that we both keep out of active involvement.”
“You miss the work, don’t you?” Skinner asks. It’s so obvious.
“Well, yeah,” Mulder admits. “But Scully and I have talked about this. A lot. Right now, Will has to be the focus of our lives. Running all over the countryside doesn’t fit in with that equation. But we keep up with what’s going on as best we can.”
Skinner shakes his head and smiles into his beer.
“What?” Mulder asks.
“Mulder, it’s just that this is the last thing I would have seen you doing.”
“Believe me, it’s the last thing I saw myself doing, too,” Mulder pauses for a long moment and sips his beer reflectively. “Scully never made it a secret that she hoped some day to have a normal life. For a long time, I didn’t think that normal life would include me. Unlike Scully I never expected it, and frankly, I’d convinced myself that I didn’t want it.”
Both men are quiet. Skinner is not going to say anything to break Mulder’s confessional mood. He senses the other man has needed to talk about this for a long time, and he’s immensely moved that Mulder has decided to confide in him.
Mulder continues. “I didn’t have the best example of a happy home life, you know. So I just waited for the day when Scully would come to me and tell me she’d found someone, and she was leaving me.”
Mulder is staring straight ahead as he speaks. Skinner’s not sure what he’s seeing, but his voice and expression are as bleak as they would be if his words had come true.
“I tried to convince Scully a couple of times that she should quit, get as far away from me as she could. But she stayed.” He smiles a little now, but it’s not a very happy smile. “I’m still not sure why.”
“Mulder, is there something wrong between you and Dana?” Skinner hates to ask, but there’s obviously something troubling the other man.
“No, it’s not Scully. It’s me,” Mulder explains. There are long silences between his words as he struggles to express himself.
“I just keep thinking that some time I’m going to wake up and find myself strapped down aboard the ship again … or in an operating room … and find that I’ve dreamed this life. That I still don’t have Scully, that there is no Will.”
Skinner is beginning to feel out of his depth. Is Mulder suffering from post-traumatic stress? Is Scully aware of this? He keeps quiet for the moment.
“It happened that way before,” Mulder continues. “I dreamed a normal life for myself, though it wasn’t with Scully. I had the love of a woman, I had kids, a house, everything. I knew while it was happening that something wasn’t right, but it wasn’t until Scully came to rescue me that I knew it for sure.
“When the aliens had me, it was the same. I dreamed of another life. I dreamed of Scully, and it probably kept me alive longer than I would have lived otherwise. When I first woke up in the hospital, I wasn’t sure what part was the dream: Scully, or being on board the alien ship.” He gulps his beer. “Or that maybe, I was still in the operating theater, dying.”
He’s tracing patterns in spilled beer on the tabletop. “I know how upset Scully was when I first came back and I seemed so distant to her, and to everyone else. I just couldn’t quite believe what had happened to me. I kept looking for the trap door, for Cancerman behind the curtain, for everyone to melt into green goo. Sometimes I wake up expecting to find myself strapped in that fucking chair again.”
Definitely post-traumatic stress, Skinner thinks. He asks, “Does Dana know about this? Are you seeing anyone for it?”
“Yeah, to both,” Mulder says. “Look, I don’t mean to burden you with all of this. I know why I feel this way, we just haven’t figured out yet how to make it stop. Maybe it won’t ever stop.”
“I don’t think you can let yourself think that, Mulder,” Skinner tells him. “I have some experience with post-traumatic stress. Do you remember a story I told you, a long time ago?”
Mulder finally looks up at him and nods slowly. Skinner thinks that maybe Mulder had forgotten that story, told so long ago, at another crisis point in his life. Maybe he just hadn’t absorbed its full impact at that time. So much more has happened to all of them since then.
Skinner goes on, carefully. “I told you that I didn’t want to look beyond that experience, and it’s true, in a sense. But I did finally seek professional help.”
When he did, it was too late to save his marriage to Sharon, but at least it finally helped him to sleep nights.
“It will get better, Mulder,” Skinner tells him. “Sometimes it takes a long time, but it will get better. I’m sure Dana has told you the same thing.” He chooses his next words carefully and says them slowly, as if he could snatch them back if Mulder’s reaction is bad. “I don’t mean to pry, but she has to have had some similar reactions to her own experiences?”
Mulder merely nods. “Yeah, in fact we made a pact that if I went in for therapy, she had to, too. It’s really awful when we both have nightmares, and then Will has one, as well. In fact, I’ve begun to wonder if ours set his off, sometimes.” Mulder shakes his head. “Some normal life, huh?”
“It’s what I said before, Mulder,” Skinner tells him. “It’s just life.” He signals for another round. “It’s what you make of it,” he adds.
Mulder nods. His expression looks a little lighter. “Thanks,” he says quietly.
“Don’t mention it,” Skinner replies. After a couple of minutes, they start to rehash that afternoon’s game, and somber atmosphere dissipates. But Skinner feels like he’s been let into the closed circle just a little.
Later, when Skinner drives Mulder home, Mulder asks him in to say hello to Scully.
Wonderful cooking smells assail them as they enter the house. Mulder sniffs appreciatively. “Mama Scully must be cooking.”
“Well, you’re half right,” Scully laughs as she comes out of the kitchen. They can hear Will in the background, banging a pot lid or something with great gusto. “*My* Mama Scully cooked, and she sent it home with me.” She turns to kiss Mulder and then kisses Skinner on the cheek. “You got here just in time. Can you stay to dinner, Walter? There’s a ton of food.”
“I’d love to,” he says. No one would ever know, looking at these two, what they’ve been through. He supposes it’s the same with him. Who would know what any of them has been through? It’s a good thing that their experiences have left no visible scars; they would all look like Frankenstein’s Monster.
“How was the game?” Scully asks Mulder.
Mulder looks over at Skinner. “We kicked ass,” he says.
“Or got yours kicked?” Scully asks, one eyebrow arched. She smiles. “Doesn’t matter, as long as you had a good time.”
“I think we did,” Mulder says, and Skinner nods this time.
“Yeah, I think we did,” he agrees.
“You must have gone to Bud’s afterwards,” Scully says.
“How well you know me, Scully,” Mulder grins. “Cheap beer, free popcorn, and all the sports you can stand.”
“Yeah, but I still thought you’d be back before this. Did you just drink beer and watch TV all afternoon?”
“Is there anything wrong with that?” Mulder teases her. “We had important guy stuff to talk about.”
“Sounds like a great afternoon,” Scully says dryly.
“To each his own, Scully. Bet you spent the afternoon at the mall, or looking at catalogues with your mom.”
“I fail to see the connection,” Scully says with a twinkle in her eye. This must be a familiar conversation.
Skinner excuses himself and goes into the kitchen to say hello to Will, who looks up and crows with delight when he sees Skinner.
Okay, so maybe the picture isn’t as perfect as it seems, Skinner thinks, but it’s still pretty good.
end.