Skinman 3: A Walk in the Park
Author: ML
Originally posted 7/18/01
Distribution: Yes to Ephemeral, Gossamer, or if you’ve archived me before. If you haven’t, please drop me a line and let me know, and leave headers, etc. attached. Thank you!
Spoilers: If you’ve seen the S8 finale, no surprises.
Rating: PG (`cuz little pitchers have big ears)
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. One character in here isn’t theirs; but this one’s not really mine either, but an “amalgam” loosely based on some people I know and admire.
Summary: Skinner spends some time with the Babe Magnet
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Skinman 3: A Walk in the Park
by ML
Skinner knocks on the door at precisely 11:45 AM. He feels like he’s about to meet a blind date. Maybe that would actually be easier than this.
The truth is, he’s never baby-sat before, and the whole idea makes him extremely nervous. Why on earth are Scully and Mulder trusting him with Will?
When Scully called him the night before, she sounded pretty much at her wit’s end.
“Mom’s sick and she doesn’t want to infect Will, so the alternative is that I stay home,” she explained. “But it’s important to Mulder that I go with him to this.”
The President of the university was having an afternoon party to celebrate the end of the school year. This was an annual event and it had been made very clear that all faculty, along with spouses, were expected to attend. Only the most dire of reasons would excuse attendance.
Mulder is finally trying to learn how to play nice with others. He got on the extension and added his request to Scully’s.
“You’ll have fun with the Babe Magnet,” Mulder said persuasively. “He doesn’t need much. A dry diaper and a bottle and he’s a happy guy.”
Skinner guesses the alternative is the Lone Gunmen, and he’s sure Scully’s not ready for that. She’s heard something about how they took care of the last baby left on their hands.
Skinner usually finds a way to give Mulder and Scully what they ask for, and at least this request won’t involve dealing with any shady characters, or costly bargaining.
At least, he’s pretty sure it won’t. With Mulder and Scully, you can never tell. They seldom refer to the idea that Will is in any danger, but Skinner knows they take a lot of precautions. They never leave Will with a baby sitter; if Scully’s mom isn’t available, Will goes with one of them.
Mulder’s nickname for Will, “The Babe Magnet,” came from Mulder carrying him around campus between classes. Mulder has always claimed that his popularity with the female portion of the student body has nothing to do with his own personal charm; Will is the center of attention whenever he’s with Mulder. In fact, Mulder once complained good-naturedly to Scully, if Will wasn’t with him, he had a hard time even getting a bus to stop for him.
The door opens almost before Skinner can knock. Mulder stands there, bare-footed and dressed in a white tee shirt and gray sweatpants. “Hey Walter, right on time,” he says, standing aside to let Skinner enter.
Will sits in the middle of the living room floor, staring avidly at something on television. Mulder swings him up into his arms and turns back to Skinner.
“Will, look who’s here,” Mulder holds Will face out against his chest, supporting him with one arm under his bottom and one around his middle. Will kicks his legs out and smiles at Skinner.
“Hey, Will’s learned a new word,” Mulder says, turning Will around to look him in the eye. “What d’ya say, Will? Feel like showing off a little?”
Will smiles at his dad and bounces in his arms a little.
“C’mon, Will, who’s that?” Mulder turns Will again and points at Skinner.
Will grins a huge, gap-toothed grin. “Dinman!” He says happily as he bounces in Mulder’s arms. “Dinman! Dinman!”
Skinner groans inwardly. He should have known. “Very funny, Mulder,” he grumbles, but he can’t help but smile at Will’s obvious glee.
“Mulder? Are you ready to go?” Scully comes out to the living room. She looks adorable in a sky blue sleeveless dress. Her feet are still bare, too. She smiles as she sees Skinner, and comes forward to give first Will a kiss, and then Skinner.
He feels the brief brush of her lips on his cheek, smells the perfume she’s wearing. He misses female companionship, he realizes. He’s missed it for a long time, but seeing Mulder and Scully together, happy, makes him more aware of what he’s lost, and what he’s missing.
Not that he’s jealous, not really. He knows how much these two deserve each other, and what a long, hard road they traveled to get here. They still have obstacles to overcome, and probably more danger, too, but at least neither is alone any longer.
He wonders if he’s destined to always travel his road alone. What must it be like to have a soul mate?
Lately he’s been thinking about Sharon quite a lot, wondering if things might have been different if they’d been able to have kids.
“I’ll be ready in five minutes,” Mulder says. He says to Skinner, “Bond with the Little Guy for a bit, okay?” He hands Will over to Skinner and bounds out of the living room. Scully smiles and says, “I’ll be right back,” and follows Mulder down the hall.
Skinner sits on the sofa and lets Will put his sticky hands on his glasses, in his ears, all over his face.
When Scully told him she was pregnant, and it appeared that she would be facing at least part of her pregnancy alone, he’d started doing a little research, reading up about the stages of pregnancy, things to look out for. Not that he felt Scully wouldn’t take care of herself, but he wanted to be ready to offer his assistance if she ever asked.
She never did. Whether through stubbornness or fear, she kept her own counsel until Mulder came back. Then, Skinner figured that Mulder would assume his rightful role as father-to-be and would be there for Scully.
Skinner was ready to kick Mulder’s ass when he seemed to show doubts as to the paternity of the child.
As it turned out, Mulder’s fears had less to do with paternity than they did with Others who thought they had some claim to the baby. Skinner’s still not sure what happened in Democrat Hot Springs, but Mulder as usual got there in the nick of time.
Mulder and Scully have been practically inseparable ever since. At least, Skinner assumes this. Scully took the maximum amount of leave she could before returning to part time duty at Quantico, and Mulder began teaching at about the same time. He knows this because he got a call, asking for a personal reference. He was touched that Mulder would give his name, but then thought that there were probably only a few people whose name Mulder could give as a reference. He grimaces to think what Kersh would have said upon receiving such a call.
In any event, except for a thank you call from Mulder telling him about his appointment to a teaching position, Skinner heard nothing for a long time. He hardly heard from Scully, either, and felt it was probably for the best. They all needed to move on. As a result, he made no effort to contact either of them. Then, out of the blue, Mulder called and asked him to speak to one of his classes.
Since then, little by little, Mulder and Scully have let him into their lives. It gives Skinner something he hasn’t experienced since his marriage ended, and frankly hadn’t for a while before the divorce. He is beginning to feel like part of a family again.
Scully comes back out to the living room, ready to go. “You really don’t mind doing this?” she asks doubtfully.
“No, not at all,” Skinner reassures her. “As long as you’re okay with it.”
Scully smiles at him. “I can’t think of anyone I’d trust Will with more,” she says. “Do you know how to change him, and where all the supplies are?”
Skinner has spent a couple of Saturday afternoons with Mulder and Will, and he’s seen the routine a number of times. He’s not really worried about that part of it. He nods. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Let me show you again, just in case,” Scully says, and he carries Will as she shows him where everything is.
Scully gives him all the last-minute instructions about Will she can think of, then Mulder repeats them all when he comes back out. Skinner is shown the paper with all the emergency numbers on it, the address of the house where they’re going, where the diapers are, how long to warm up the milk, Will’s favorite juice, and so on. There’s only one thing not on the list.
“What do I do with him?” Skinner asks Mulder. “How do I, you know, keep him happy? Entertain him?”
“Hey, what do guys do on a Saturday afternoon?” Mulder shrugs. “You know, the usual. Sit around in your underwear and watch the game. Go to the park and play catch. Pick up chicks.”
Except for the last suggestion, that’s pretty much what they’ve done when they’ve been left in charge of Will for the afternoon. He’s just not sure what Will’s reaction will be, left alone with him, and he wants some kind of reassurance.
“I think Will’s a little young for the last two activities,” Skinner says. “And I’m too old. At least for the latter.”
Mulder smiles. “Never say never, Walter. And as for Will–” He takes Will back from Skinner for a moment. “I told you. Guaranteed babe magnet. You’ll have to beat `em off with a stick.”
Will grins at Skinner. Skinner doesn’t think he’s ever seen the baby in a bad mood. How did two such morose people have such a happy child? Mulder hands him back and Will grabs a handful of Skinner’s shirt and hitches himself up to grab at Skinner’s glasses.
At last, Mulder and Scully seem to satisfied that they’ve told Skinner everything they can.
“We’re only about fifteen minutes away,” Scully says. “If you have any questions or need anything, just give us a call.”
“We probably won’t stay too late,” Mulder adds. “As long as we aren’t the last to arrive and the first to leave.”
“That sounds very calculating, Mulder,” Skinner says.
“Oh yeah,” Mulder says. “Down to the minute. Just because I’m a professor and look respectable, doesn’t mean I consider this a great way to spend Saturday afternoon. Believe me, I’d much rather be here with you guys.”
Scully says, “Well, come on, Mr. Important College Professor, let’s get moving. The sooner we go–”
“–the sooner we can come back,” he finishes for her. “And that’s `Dr. Important *University* Professor’ to you, Dr. Scully.”
Scully kisses both Will and Skinner goodbye, and Mulder kisses Will, making a kissy-face at Skinner. “Have fun, dudes,” he says. “Will, keep an eye on the Skinman for me, `kay?”
Will says, “Dinman!” agreeably, and watches his parents go out the door without making a fuss.
Skinner sits on the sofa and holds his little charge in his lap, where he sits and tries to cram all his toes into his mouth.
“Well, Will,” Skinner says to him. “What do you want to do?”
“Gah!” Will says, and turns his attention back to his toes.
Skinner finds the remote and looks for a game to watch.
In less than an hour, it’s clear that Skinner alone isn’t enough entertainment for Will. Skinner sits on the floor with him, offering toy after toy which Will accepts, examines, and flings away impatiently. Skinner can see the clouds gathering in his eyes, and he really doesn’t want to see Will cry.
Finally, in desperation, he says, “Will, do you want to go to the park?”
“Pock!” says Will happily, the clouds dispersing like they’ve never been.
It takes Skinner another twenty minutes to gather everything he thinks might be necessary for this expedition. When he’s gone with Mulder and Will to the park, Mulder slings a backpack over one shoulder, and Will over the other, and they go. But Skinner wants the security of knowing whatever he might need is at his fingertips. Mulder might be practiced at improvising with Will, but he isn’t.
He loads up the stroller with everything he can think of. There’s barely room for Will, and he has to rethink some of the necessities, with Will getting antsier by the minute. Finally they are ready to go.
As Skinner wheels Will into the park, he cases it. It’s a small neighborhood park on a quiet street. The grounds are neat and well-kept, but it’s too open, too many ways for someone to come along and grab a kid. It’s a tactical nightmare, impossible to control. His eyes sweep the perimeter. He sees the public restroom at the far end, and watches closely for any suspicious looking types who might be loitering there.
Everything looks calm and normal. Kids everywhere, on the swings, the slide, the sandbox…
…there’s too much going on for Skinner to keep track of. What a stupid idea to take Will to the park. What was he thinking?
Will is squirming, he wants out of the stroller. His hands work against the roll bar, and he bounces up and down. “Dinman! Dinman!” he says loudly. “Go! Go!” Skinner follows Will’s line of sight to the sandbox.
There are a lot of kids in the sandbox, and the surrounding benches are filled with adults watching their charges. Skinner circles the area, looking for the least exposed corner, or at least an empty bench. Will’s squeals get louder as they get closer to the sandbox.
“Dinman! Dinman!” he hollers, pointing to the sand. There are no empty benches nearby, so Skinner perches on the edge of the sandbox after carefully removing Will from the stroller and sitting him in the sand. He rummages through the stuff he packed for suitable sand toys.
The first thing Will does is crawl rapidly away from Skinner, toward the other kids. Skinner shouts, “HEY!” as though he’s trying to get a perp to stop and barely keeps himself from grabbing at Will’s ankle. He’s surprisingly fast for a little guy. Skinner lunges across the sand, heedless of anyone and anything other than Will’s rapidly retreating behind. He has a vague sense of kids scattering in his wake. He finally gets to Will and picks him up, causing Will to emit a surprised shriek. He stands up, feeling extremely conspicuous, and takes Will back to the stroller.
He ignores Will’s shrieks and his reproachful wails of “Dinman! Want down! Want down!” and straps him back into the stroller. He can feel how hot his face is, both from exertion and embarrassment. He just isn’t up to this. He fumbles around for Will’s pacifier and wipes the sand off on his shirt. Will accepts it, but his wet blue eyes stare at Skinner with a hurt expression. His eyes look like Scully’s, but the expression is all Mulder. It’s a little unnerving, like seeing Mulder at his most defeated in miniature. It only makes Skinner feel worse.
He won’t be surprised if someone calls the cops on him. He is sure everyone within hearing thinks he is abusing Will in some way. He can’t get away from the park fast enough. He wheels back down the sidewalk to the accompaniment of Will’s broken-hearted whimpers.
They’ll never ask me to baby-sit again, he thinks. The thought should relieve him, but somehow it doesn’t.
He sees Mulder’s car parked in the driveway with gratitude. They did manage to get away early, after all.
Mulder is standing by the front door. “We tried to call, and you didn’t answer, so we thought we’d just come back, see if everything’s okay.” Scully appears from just inside the door, cellphone in her hand.
“Is this yours, Walter?” she asks, holding it out. He’d forgotten to put it in the stroller pocket. He takes it from her hands sheepishly.
“I’m sorry if I worried you,” he tells her.
“Actually, you did us a favor,” Scully says. “Mulder’s tolerance level for gatherings like this needs to be built up gradually. An hour or so is about all he can do right now, and then he starts acting like Will.”
Meanwhile, Will has let the pacifier drop and he holds his arms up to Mulder, wailing piteously, “Dada! Dada!”
Mulder leans down and unstraps him. “What’s the matter, buddy? Didn’t you have fun in the park?” Will buries his face in Mulder’s neck and makes heartbreaking noises. Skinner feels almost ready to cry, too.
Mulder murmurs something to Will, sounding amused. As Will starts to calm down, Mulder looks at Skinner, a half-smile on his face. He doesn’t seem concerned or put out at all by Will’s behavior.
“Was everything okay, Walter?” Mulder asks, patting Will on the back soothingly. “Did Will try to escape you? Did you have to thwart him?”
Skinner nods. “Big time.”
Mulder looks down at his son, who is now drooling on his shoulder, eyes half-shut and thumb in mouth. “He turns on the waterworks whenever he doesn’t get his way. You get used to it. It’s not often I get to be Big Daddy Hero, though. Usually, *I’m* the bad guy.” He leads the way into the house. “You want some coffee? Or maybe a beer? Looks like you could use one.”
Skinner declines. He thinks that Will needs to get over the trauma of the afternoon, and so does he. He says his good-byes and accepts thanks that he doesn’t feel he really deserves.
Instead of going home, he sees a Borders up ahead and he steers into the parking lot. He likes browsing around in these giant bookstores, as evidenced by the pile of books he has at home waiting to be read. Just being in the store is a stress-reliever. Some men go to bars, he frequents bookstores. He especially likes going into bookstores out of his neighborhood, where it’s less likely he will see someone he knows.
He spends some time looking at the best sellers, and then idly sorts through the bargain books.
He feels like someone’s watching him. I’m getting as paranoid as Mulder, he thinks, but looks up anyway.
There’s a woman on the other side of the table, and she is looking at him, and smiling.
“Hello,” she says. “Didn’t I see you in the park with a little boy earlier today? I was there with my niece.”
Skinner nods, too embarrassed to speak. He hopes her niece isn’t one of the ones he almost trampled.
“I’ve seen you there before,” she continues. “You’re usually with another man. Is he the father? Or are you sharing?”
Sharing? What the hell does that mean? Then it dawns on him: she obviously thinks he and Mulder are a couple. It’s true when they’ve gone to the park, it’s always been without Scully. They typically went on the days Scully ran errands.
“I’m just a friend of the family,” Skinner says as calmly as he can. “The baby’s his. He’s married.” So much for Will being a babe magnet if that’s what people think. It doesn’t bother him in the abstract, but he doesn’t like people making assumptions.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “You just seemed so at ease with each other…oh, never mind,” she ends in confusion. “No matter what I say, it’s going to sound stupid.”
“No, it’s okay,” Skinner reassures her, sorry he’s embarrassed her, his own embarrassment forgotten. “I guess it’s a reasonable assumption.”
“Well, only because of my own experience,” she says. “My sister’s gay, and there are a number of other same-sex couples in the neighborhood, so that’s why.”
Even though he knows it isn’t politically correct, Skinner is somewhat relieved that her assumption isn’t necessarily based on his looks or actions.
“The little boy is cute, anyway,” she’s trying valiantly to change the subject, and unwittingly steps on another landmine. “What did he call you? `Tinman’? I thought it was an unusual nickname.”
“No,” Skinner says abruptly, feeling his face go red. Though maybe `Tinman’ is more appropriate for the way he’s been feeling. “It was `Skinman.’ That’s what he called me.”
“Oh,” she says, and there is a long, awkward pause. “My name is Skinner,” he finally explains. “Walter Skinner. It’s an old college nickname.”
She smiles, and he realizes that she’s very pretty. “Maybe we could just start over. Let’s pretend I haven’t said anything at all yet, okay?”
There’s a twinkle in her eyes and he warms to her. His instincts say that she’s an okay person. She seems to have a sense of humor, and intelligence shines out of her eyes.
“My name’s Walter. Walter Skinner,” he offers impulsively. “May I know your name?”
“Belinda Kimberly,” she says with another smile. “But my friends call me Linda.”
“Do you want to get a cup of coffee?” he asks. He’s not sure what’s gotten into him, but he wants to know more about this woman.
“Okay,” she agrees.
By the time they’ve finished their coffee, Linda has agreed to have lunch with him the next day.
Will’s magnetism evidently has a delayed reaction, Skinner thinks. Not that it’s a bad thing. Maybe he could borrow Will for a play date with Linda and her niece.
end.