TITLE:     JADED
AUTHOR:    DONNILEE
E-MAIL:    DONNILEE@SNET.NET
WEBSITE:   http://donnilee.tripod.com
CATEGORY:  SK/O
SPOILERS:  None.

SUMMARY:   Skinner's sick.  Kimberly takes care of him, in more 
ways than one.

DISCLAIMER:  All X-Files characters portrayed in this fic are the 
property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox 
Broadcasting.  No copyright infringement intended.

DEDICATION:  This goes to one of my most enthusiastic 
cheerleaders and a great gal to boot - Sdani - who hoped I'd do 
more Skinner/Kim.   Hope you like it!

THANKS:  To my beta reader.  Guess who?  Sdani again, who 
faked me out and did this a LOT quicker than she said she would!  
Thanks darling. Cyber kisses and hugs.

XXXXXXXXXX
FBI HOOVER BUILDING
THIRD FLOOR - A.D. SKINNER'S OFFICE
WASHINGTON, D.C.
JULY 3, 2000 - 2:00 PM

"AAACCCHHHOOO!"  

I looked up suddenly at the door leading into A.D. Skinner's office.  
God, he was so sick.

"Shit!" he coughed.  

I picked up my spare box of tissues and approached the door.  It 
was open only a crack.  I gently pushed it open.  He was leaning 
forward, his forehead resting on his hands that were clenched into 
fists on top of his blotter.

"Sir?" I asked softly.

His head snapped upright and he flexed his fists.  His nose was red 
and raw around the bottom.  I noticed a crumpled paper towel from 
his private bathroom resting on the corner of his desk.  "Kim, 
sorry," he croaked.

"No problem."  I smiled gently at him and approached, holding out 
the box of Aloe laced tissues.  "I think these might work better 
than that cardboard that they call a paper towel in this joint."

He smiled slowly and sniffled, accepting the gift.  "You're an 
angel," he croaked again and immediately ripped two tissues out of 
the box and held them up to his face as his head reeled back and he 
sneezed again.  "AAACCCHHOOO!"  He noisily blew his nose 
and then looked up sheepishly.  "Sorry."

I smiled again, shaking my head like he was a recalcitrant child.  In 
many ways, he was.  I saw sides of the A.D. that others rarely got 
to see.  I happened to know he was human.  I happened to know 
that he was really a rough-tough creampuff, all crusty on the 
outside, all soft and mushy on the inside.  "Why don't you go 
home, Sir?  It's already 2:00 o'clock and it's the long weekend for 
the Fourth.  Take the weekend and rest and try to get better."

 He hung his head and shrugged.  

I sensed something was wrong.  I took a step closer and perched 
my butt cheek on the edge of the desk.  "What's wrong, Sir?  
Besides the obvious, I mean."

He looked up at me with chocolate, brown eyes and blinked 
myopically behind his wire rims.  His whites of his eyes were an 
interesting shade of pink.  "If I go home," he said slowly.  "I won't 
know what the hell to do with myself anyway.  And I have a 
meeting at 2:30 PM with Mulder and Scully."

I realized that he didn't have much of a life outside the Bureau and 
felt sad for him.  I had an unseemly urge to bring some fun into his 
life.  Not that I was the Queen of Night Life or anything, but I had 
my outside interests.  I wondered if he had any hobbies.  I didn't 
imagine that he did.

"About the poltergeist case?" I inquired.

He nodded.

I waved a hand negligently. "Forget it.  It can wait till Monday.  
They'll be thrilled to have you cancel.  Scully was already up here 
earlier asking if you really needed the report before the end of the 
day.  She had some loose ends to tie up before she blew Mulder's 
theory completely out of the water."

He chuckled in spite of his feeling so sick.  I was glad I could 
make him laugh once in a while.  That was another thing not many 
people got to see.  He really did have a fine sense of humor.  
Unfortunately, this environment required that he hide it most of the 
time. 

"She's going to blow him out of the water, huh?" he shot back.

I smiled widely.  "Doesn't she always?  Gotta watch us redheads 
every minute," I joked.

He nodded.  "All right.  Call her and cancel our meeting.  I'll go 
home.  I don't what I'll do with myself, but I'll go home."

"I'll tell you what to do," I said cheekily.

He raised his eyebrows at me, realizing I was teasing.  "Oh, you 
think so, do you?" he countered.

"Yup.  You'll go home, dig out some Tylenol Cold & Flu and take 
about ... "  I looked him up and down in an exaggerated fashion.  
"About three of them for your size and then go pass out in bed 
after you've consumed three 8 oz. glasses of water."

He licked his dry, chapped lips and pressed them together.  "Trying 
to tell me something?"

"Besides that your shirt's wrinkled, your nose is red, you're too sick 
to function and you're totally dehydrated?  No."

He chuckled again.  "Okay, Sergeant."  He stood up and bowed 
dramatically.  "I will follow your instructions to the letter.  Oh, 
except I have to stop at the pharmacy.  I don't have any Tylenol 
Cold & Flu."

I grinned.  "Well, I could pick some up for you and bring it over," I 
said on the spur of the moment, wondering what prompted me to 
do say it.

He smiled.  "That's not necessary.  You take good care of me, but 
that would be above and beyond the call of duty."  He approached 
me with his easy gait.  

"No trouble, Sir.  I'm just trying to find an excuse to leave early 
myself," I said.

He smiled at me again and I found myself smiling back.  We were 
doing that more and more lately.  I wondered if it meant anything 
that we were more comfortable and casual around each other than 
we used to be.  "Want to fly the coop early too, do you?  Got 
plans for the weekend?"

"Not really, other than to enjoy the time off.  Soak in a hot bath 
with bubbles up to my neck, maybe watch a chick flick or two."

He groaned with mock drama.  "Chick flicks," he grunted.

I walked into my office area and opened the wardrobe where we 
hung our coats.  I pulled his trench coat off the hanger and tossed it 
to him.  "Get out of here.  I'll lock up."

"Go home as soon as you call Mulder and Scully.  You deserve a 
long weekend."

"Yes, I do," I stated emphatically, nodding my head sharply.

He raised an eyebrow as he swung his trench coat over his 
shoulder.  He stepped closer to me and tucked a stray strand of hair 
behind my ear.  I shivered slightly, unable to suppress it, and my 
head lowered to my shoulder, trying to dislodge the tickle.  He 
looked slightly amused but then said softly,  "I don't deserve you, 
Kim."

Well.  Wasn't that unexpected?  We weren't THAT close.  I just 
looked up at him and found myself drowning in his dark eyes.  
They were slightly glazed and it reminded me of how sick he was.  
I didn't know what to say, so as he dropped his hand back to his 
side, I said, "Get out of here before you infect us all."

He chuckled again and saluted me smartly.  "Aye, aye, Captain."

I watched him turn on his heel, military style and walk out of the 
office.  I caught myself staring at the lower half of his body.  God, 
his body was magnificent.  For a man hugging 50, he was in great 
shape.  I wondered if the three times a week he worked out here in 
the Bureau gym was all the time he spent working out.  

I was startled out of my reverie when someone cleared their throat.  
I looked up to find Mulder and Scully with amused looks on their 
faces standing just inside my doorway.  "Pass him in the hallway?"
I asked.

They nodded.  Scully said, "Just saw him getting into the elevator.  
Figured he would be back in a few minutes, but he looks like shit."

I nodded.  "He's really sick.  He told me to cancel with you guys.  
He'll catch up with you Monday for your final report."

Scully raised her eyebrow and Mulder looked amused.  Then 
Mulder said, "He never goes home sick.  What did you do to him, 
Kim?"

"I told him I was sick and tired of him coming in here and sharing 
his diseases with me," I quipped. 

They both laughed Scully nodded knowingly.  

"What?" I asked innocently.

Mulder replied, "Glad to know someone can handle the His 
Surliness."

I grinned.  "Well, you saved me a phone call," I said as I slipped 
into windbreaker.  "I'm leaving too," I informed them as I walked 
over, shut his door and locked it with my key.

Scully tapped her manila folder against her hand.  "All right then."

I smiled.  "Enjoy your weekend, guys.  Don't look a gift horse in 
the mouth."

They were both grinning as they waved to me on their way out.  
Scully said, "Enjoy your weekend, too."  Then they were gone.

I sighed and locked up my desk, after pulling my purse out of the 
bottom drawer.  I looked around to see if I'd missed anything.  
Satisfied, I walked out, turning to lock the door to my office 
behind me as well.

I waved to several people on the way out and took the elevator 
straight to the parking garage under the building.  I walked briskly 
with my car keys in my hand as I'd been taught, even though I was 
technically still in the Hoover Building.

I frowned as I approached my car and saw that A.D. Skinner was 
still in his car, which was parked next to mine.  I walked over and 
looked down.  His head was back against the headrest, his eyes 
closed and his mouth open.  His trench coat was tossed negligently 
on the passenger seat.  Oh for God sakes, I thought.  I tapped 
lightly on the window.

He jerked awake and upright all in one motion, reaching for his 
sidearm.  I raised my hands to my sides in mock surrender, as he 
whipped his head towards me.  He visibly relaxed and hit the 
button on the door, sliding the window down.  He rubbed his hands 
over his face.  "Shit, I dozed off.  Thanks for waking me up."

He reached for ignition, where his keys dangled.  I reached in 
through the window and grabbed his forearm.  He turned and I 
found myself inches from his face.  "No," I said.

"Kim!" he started to protest.

"Get out and get in my car.  I'm taking you home and that's all 
there is to it.  I'm not going to ruin my weekend by getting a call 
telling me that you took a power snooze behind the 
wheel."

He snorted.  "I'll be fine, Kim.  I just dozed off for a minute."

"You're not fine.  You're sick as a dog, and your tired to begin 
with.  Now stop being so damned stubborn!" I nearly hollered, 
realizing my voice had been rising, and I was really concerned 
about him.  My frustration had bought tears to my eyes although I 
didn't let them fall by blinking rapidly.  I had an awful thought 
careen through my brain.  What if he did have a car accident and 
die?  How would I feel?  How would I handle it?  I swallowed 
hard, shaking my head to dislodge the thought.  I backed away 
from his car and turned to round the front of mine.  "Shit," I 
muttered, as I realized one tear had escaped.  

I didn't hear him get out, but he reached me before I could unlock 
my car. He slid up behind me and slid his arm down mine 
grasping my hand where it gripped my keys tightly as they sat in 
the door lock.  "Kim, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head.  "It's nothing.  I'm being a bitch.  I don't even 
know what's wrong with me."

He gently took my shoulders under his palms and turned me to 
face him.  He stared at my face until I raised my eyes to meet his.  
"It's not easy working for me, is it?" he asked gently.

I shrugged, lowering my head and feeling the heat wafting off his 
body and the heat of his palms sinking into my shoulders.  He was 
sick, of course he was throwing off heat, I told myself.  "I like 
working for you," I said stupidly.

"But it's not easy, is it?"

I swallowed and licked my lips looking at his broad chest.  I 
looked up again to find his eyes riveted to my lips.  He jerked his 
eyes up to meet my gaze.  I was suddenly very uncomfortable.  I 
cleared my throat.  "I don't remember working for anyone quite as 
stubborn," I replied finally, trying to bring some levity back into 
the situation.

One corner of his mouth turned up.  His thumbs traced random 
patterns on my collarbones and I realized his hand had slipped 
inside the collar of my blouse.  I pulled back and turned, saying, 
"Come on.  Let's go."

I opened the door and slid in as he backed away from me, letting 
his arms fall to his sides.  I rolled down the window.  "What about 
my car?" he asked, and I knew he was giving in.

"We'll come back and get it tomorrow or something.  I'll give you a 
ride.  It's only 15 minutes."

"But you live a half hour away in Falls Church."

"I'll live.  Come on, get in."

He went to his car and grabbed his trench coat, locking it behind 
him and I popped the lock on his door.  He slid in and closed the 
door, fastening his seatbelt.  I did the same and pulled out of the 
parking space, stealing glances at him as he stared out the 
passenger side window.

We rode in silence for about five minutes.  Finally, he said quietly, 
"You really give a shit, don't you?"

"What?" I asked, not sure I'd heard him right.  I wasn't sure what 
he was talking about for a minute.

He turned to look at me as I stopped at a light.  I turned to look 
back at him and he repeated it, clarifying what he meant.  "You 
really do give a shit ... about me, I mean."

"Of course I do!" I responded immediately.

He nodded and turned back to stare out the window again.  A horn 
honked and I jerked my eyes back to the road, accelerating through 
the light, slightly embarrassed that I wasn't paying attention.  He 
graciously didn't make any jokes about my driving, or that 
maybe he would have been safer driving himself, despite his 
weariness.

He sneezed and I pointed at the glove box.  He opened it and 
pulled out a small pack of travel tissues, grinning.  "Always 
prepared, aren't you?  Were you a girl scout?" he teased.

I sighed, relaxing, now that we were back to the usual banter.  "Of 
course; I had merit badges up the yin yang."

He blew his nose, his eyes twinkling with amusement.  He was a 
handsome man, but when he smiled, he was just so damn 
endearing.  Something about all that bulk looking amused or 
sheepish just melted my heart.

I knew I was dangerously close to falling for my boss, and it really 
wasn't a good idea.  Better women than me had their reputations 
ruined by getting involved with an agent in the good old boy 
network.  

I knew Mulder and Scully were involved or rapidly careening 
towards a relationship, but they were different.  No one really 
cared whether they were together or not for some reason.  In 
addition, if they were, they were discreet.  They obviously 
respected one another, but no one ever caught them in a display of 
inappropriate affection inside the Hoover Building.  Moreover, 
without that, there was no proof.  

I pulled into the CVS parking lot and hopped out, not saying 
anything to him as he wrestled for his wallet.  I waved him off and 
trotted inside, going to the Cold & Flu section and grabbing what I 
wanted, plus a few other things that caught my eye.  I doubted he 
was very prepared.  He was a bachelor after all, or had been for the 
last two years.  I wondered if he missed his wife.  I knew he didn't 
date.  Then again, when did he have the time?  He never left the 
office.

I suddenly wondered how long Mulder and Scully had been there 
before I realized their presence back in my office.  How much had 
they heard?  Had they heard him say he didn't deserve me?  Had 
hey seen him tuck my hair behind my ear.  I suppressed another 
involuntary shiver remembering the warmth of his hands and the 
surge of nervousness that appeared every time he touched me.  

I cashed out and hurried back to the car.  I smiled as I slid behind 
the seat.  He was resting his head again but wasn't asleep.  His eyes 
opened slowly and he turned his head to look at me.  His eyes 
widened when he saw the bulging bag.  "More in there than 
Tylenol Cold & Flu," he commented.

I tossed the bag on the seat between us and slid in, backing out and 
getting back on the road.  My mind began to wander again.  
Touching me.  God, I wanted him to touch me, more and more 
often it seemed.

He didn't do it often.  He was very professional and he knew better 
than anyone how easy it was to be accused of sexual harassment.  
Maybe because it was so rare, those touches stood out in my mind.  
I was so lost in thought; I nearly went by his building.  I hit the 
brakes and made a quick turn into the parking lot.  

He grabbed the dash in mock horror as we bounced into the 
parking lot.  

I pulled to a more sedate halt, parking in his assigned spot.

"Should I call you Kim Andretti, now?" he teased.

I laughed and unbuckled myself, sliding out the car, pulling the 
bag with me.  He slid out with his trench coat over his arm.  It was 
warm with a nice, little breeze and he peered at me over the hood 
of my car.  "And where do you think you're going?"

I pushed my door shut and met his gaze squarely.  "I'm going to 
make sure you take care of yourself," I said, waving the CVS bag 
at him.

He shook his head but didn't argue as he led the way into his 
building.  We climbed to the third floor.  I followed him silently 
down the hall to his door.  

He didn't want to admit it, but I think he was secretly happy to 
have the company.  As he'd mentioned, he didn't know what to do 
with himself when he was alone.  I realized that he must be a 
lonely man.  I mean, how many friends did he have?  Did I even 
know?  Were they all friends that disappeared after he divorced 
Sharon?  If he had any social life it would have been because of 
Sharon.  Now she was gone and he practically lived at the 
Bureau.  Not good.

I felt a wave of sadness for him as I followed him into the 
apartment.  It was spacious and tastefully decorated.  I couldn't 
believe I'd never been here in seven years.  I advanced into the 
room and stood in front of his coffee table, looking around.  His 
couches were blue.  There was a big mahogany desk against one 
wall.  His coffee table was the same color as his desk with a glass 
top.   There was a big boy recliner that matched the couch 
as well as another easy chair.  A big entertainment center sat across 
from the couch, housing the usual TV, VCR, DVD equipment 
along with a stereo.  I wondered if he ever got to use it. 

I noticed there wasn't much on the walls.  I could see a half wall 
dividing the living room from the kitchen and dining area.  The 
half wall served as a breakfast bar as well.  Off to the other side I 
could see another room, but didn't know what was in there, and 
next to that was door hanging open.  It was obviously the 
bathroom.  I turned to look at him and he was wearing an amused 
expression.  "Everything pass muster, Captain?" he teased me.

I smiled.  "Just looking around.  It's very nice, Sir."

"Better than you expected?" he asked, as he tossed his coat over 
the back of the easy chair and approached me.

I looked around again and blurted out, "It's clean."

He threw his head back and laughed.  I blushed about ten shades of 
red.  When he had his mirth under control, he said, "Expected me 
to live in squalor, did you?"

"No, Sir!  That's not what I meant!  It just ... it wasn't what I ..."

"Wasn't what you were expecting," he finished for me, letting me 
off the hook.

"Yeah, sorry.  I don't know why I said that."

"I don't think I've ever seen you blush, Kimberly," he said glibly.

I sucked in a breath and felt heat diffuse my face again.  I hung my 
head, embarrassed, clutching the CVS bag to my chest.  He was 
suddenly in front of me and lifting my chin with two fingers.  

"Don't be embarrassed."

"How am I not supposed to be embarrassed?  I'm in my bosses 
apartment for the first time and I'm making an ass out of myself."

"No, you're not.  It's cute."

I coughed into my hand.  "Great, I'm cute.  Just what I always 
wanted."

He was suddenly still.  Too still and his thumb brushed across my 
cheek.  His voice was just above a whisper.  "You're comments 
were cute.  YOU, are beautiful," he said, staring at me with an 
intensity I knew I'd never seen on his face before.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but words failed 
me.  What the hell was wrong with me?  Say something! I thought.  
He gently pried the CVS bag out of my hands, saving me again.  
"Let's see what you've got in this goody bag."

I pulled it back from him.  "No, you go get into something 
comfortable.  I'll fix you some things," I said too quickly, and 
headed for the kitchen, glad to have something to do.

I didn't look back but I heard him cross the living room.  I glanced 
after a few seconds and saw him go through the mystery door.  Oh 
God.  That must be his bedroom, I thought.  A picture of him 
undressing flashed through my mind and I shook myself again, 
telling myself, 'Get your head out of the gutter, Kimberly.'

I put the teakettle on and grabbed a coffee mug.  I poured the Cold 
& Flu powder into the mug, unpacking the rest of the bag.  It took 
my a few minutes of rummaging, but I finally found a saucepan 
and put it on the stove.   I busied myself for the next several 
minutes while I waited for the water to boil.  I hoped he hadn't 
fallen asleep just yet, before I could get some medicine into him.  I 
wasn't sure if he had a nasty cold, or really had the start of the flu, 
but this stuff usually worked either way.  

A few minutes later he emerged, wearing gray sweatpants and a 
white tee shirt that hugged his chest like the skin on a grape.  God 
have mercy.  Did the man have any idea what that chest did to a 
woman?  I highly doubted it.  He leaned negligently against the 
doorframe, as the kettle whistled, and I poured it into the mug.  

He approached and took out a teaspoon, handing it to me.   I stirred 
the medicine while he peered into the saucepan.  "Chicken noodle 
soup?" he asked.

I looked up.  "You don't like it?"

"I love it.  Haven't had it in a while though."

"It's just out of the can, unfortunately.   They don't have much in 
CVS, but I didn't want to make another stop or spend too much 
time making real soup."

"Out of the can is the best!" he said.

"Typical man.  You'd probably rather eat a frozen dinner than a 
home cooked meal."

"Ah, now that's not true.  I love home cooked meals.  I get those 
even less often than I get Campbell's chicken noodle soup."

Before I could stop myself, I said, "I'll have to have you over for 
dinner sometime."

Silence descended and we looked at each other awkwardly again.  
"Kim ..."

"I'm sorry.  That was inappropriate of me, wasn't it?" I asked, 
handing him the mug.  "Drink up.  Go sit down.  I'll bring you this 
when it's ready.  By the way, where do you keep your bowls?"  I 
was babbling and I knew it.

He set his mug down after taking one sip and grimacing.  

I was opening cupboards, looking for a bowl, realizing I really had 
no right to rifle through his cupboards.  "Oh dear, I shouldn't 
snoop.  Just tell me where they are."

He stepped behind me and took my forearms in his hands gently, 
lowering them from the cupboard where I'd just left the door 
hanging open.  I froze and lowered them to the counter, grabbing 
the edge and squeezing until my knuckles turned white.  He 
reached up with one hand over my head, to the cupboard door next 
to the one I'd just been in, opened it and pulled down a big soup 
bowl.  "You want any?" he asked softly.

I shook my head. 

He closed the cupboard doors and then brought both his hands 
down gently on my wrists, prying them off the edge of the counter.  
"Turn around, Kim."

I shook my head again.  "I'm sorry, Sir.  I don't know what's wrong 
with me today.  I really did just want to help you out, and I didn't 
mean to make you uncomfortable.  I'd never want to do that.  I'm 
forgetting who you are and ..."

"Kim, turn around," he said in that voice that brooked no 
argument.  

I took a deep breath, steeling myself and slowly turned as he 
released my wrists.  He was so close and I could feel the heat 
coming off his body again.  "I'm sorry," I muttered again, looking 
at the ground.

He lifted my chin with two fingers.  We stared at each other for a 
couple of seconds and I felt traitorous tears sting my eyelids again.  
I tried to wrench my head away but he held me firmly by the chin, 
gently, but firmly.  He leaned close, and whispered, "I'd love to 
come over for dinner, Kim.  Nevertheless, I'd like it even more if 
you'd relax around me.  I'm not going to bite you."

"I know, Sir.  Like I said, I don't know what's wrong with me."

He placed his index finger softly on my lips, halting my words.  I 
sucked in a tiny gasp.  "There's nothing wrong with you, Kim.  
We're not used to spending time together as friends."  

His finger fell away from my face and took a tiny step back giving 
me some space.  
"Friends?  Are we friends?"

"After seven years of working together, I'd hope we're friends."

"Of course, Sir."

"My friends don't call me, Sir," he said softly.

"But you're my boss, and I've always called you, Sir ... Sir," I said, 
chuckling at my own awkwardness and shrugging again.

He smiled softly.  "When we aren't at work, you can call me, 
Walter."  I opened my mouth to protest but that damn finger was 
back again, pressing gently on my lips.  "No argument.  I'm the 
boss, remember."

I nodded and said, "Your soup's going to burn."  I turned away 
quickly and made my way to the stove, stirring the soup and taking 
it off the heat.  I pulled the bowl over and poured it into the bowl.  
I turned, asking, "Do you like crackers?"

"Yes, but I don't have any."

I pointed further down the counter to the small box of saltine 
crackers I'd bought. 

He smiled widely and said, "What would I do without you?"

"I don't know.  But you don't look like you're starving to death."

"No, that's not one of my problems," he answered, chuckling.  He 
grabbed the crackers and opened them.

"No, it's not," I said, finding my eyes drawn to his body again.  

He paused in the action to opening the crackers and stilled, 
watching me watching him.  I realized what I was doing and jerked 
my eyes away, bringing the pan to the sink and running some 
water.  I picked up the dish soap that was sitting on the back of the 
sink.

"Leave it, Kim.  Come on.  Make yourself some tea and sit with 
me."

I nodded, feeling stupid again, but put more water in the kettle and 
retrieved another mug as he sat down with the soup and started to 
eat after grabbing a big soup spoon.  He hummed contentedly as he 
ate and I smiled, thinking about how little it really took to 
please him.

He smiled up at me and said, "I think this is just what I needed.  I 
didn't realize it, but I felt so crappy, I don't think I ate all day."

"I know," I said simply.

He paused with a spoonful half way to his mouth.  Then he 
finished bringing it up, sipping the broth off the spoon.  I poured 
my tea and sat down at his small table, opposite him.  He 
continued to eat and I pushed his mug across the table to him.  He 
grimaced but took sips in between mouthfuls of soup.  They were 
both gone in no time and I cleared away his dishes, squirting soap 
in the sink.

"You don't have to do that, Kim.  Just leave it."

"I don't mind."

"I do.  Visit with me."

"You need to rest, Sir."

"Walter."

"Right. Wal-ter," I tried it out.  "You need to sleep.  Go ahead.  I 
can let myself out."

"Not yet, but I will relax on the couch.  Come join me."

"As soon as I'm done here."

"You're hopeless."

"That's my line," I shot back.

I heard him chuckle as he went into the living room.  I quickly 
finished up the few dishes and put them on the drying rack.  I 
wiped my hands on a dishtowel he had hanging on the stove handle 
door.

I took another deep breath, reminding myself I had to leave.  I had 
crossed too many lines today.  Although he didn't seem to mind, I 
knew I was setting myself up for a fall.  He was just responding 
politely because I was being nice to him, mothering him a little.  
It'd probably been a long time since anyone had mothered him.  

I walked into the living room, intending to tell him I had to go.  I 
rounded the end of the couch and opened my mouth, and stopped 
dead.  He was half reclined against the corner of the couch, one leg 
on the floor, the other dangling half way off the couch.  His head 
was back against the cushion, his eyes closed.  He looked so 
peaceful and relaxed.  It was then I realized he wasn't wearing any 
shoes or socks.

Good, lord, look at the size of his feet! I thought.  They were clean, 
the nails neatly trimmed, a small tuft of hair on the top of his big 
toes.  God even the man's feet were sexy.

Sexy?  Yes, indeed.  My boss was one sexy man.  And, I had to get 
out of here.  I took a deep breath and inhaled his unique smell.  He 
smelled like pungent fresh air and fall leaves and I was intoxicated 
by it.  I inched closer and sat gingerly on the edge of the couch 
near his hip.  I allowed myself the guilty pleasure of staring at his 
body while he was unaware.  I didn't usually get the chance to be 
this open about my perusal.

He was snoring lightly and I felt my heart rate increase slightly.  
My God, he was gorgeous, from the tip of his toes to the crown of 
his bald pate.  Another thing not many people knew what that I had 
a tiny fetish for bald men.  Always had and have no idea why.  
Now, not just any head was great, but a nicely shaped one like his 
just turned me on to no end.  God, where was my mind taking me?  
This was very dangerous.

In slow motion, I found myself reaching toward him with my hand.  
I placed it gently on his sternum and he sighed, but didn't wake.  
He was so warm.  What if he weren't sick?  Would something 
happen if I were here and he wasn't sick?  Did I want something to 
happen?

Yes, I did.  Very much, I realized, and it scared the bejesus out of 
me.  Not enough thought that I could stop my hand from sweeping 
gently across his chest, fascinated with his bulging pectorals and 
his washboard abs.  My hand slid lower, my eyes following its 
trail.  I moved it over his abdomen and felt something brush my 
elbow.  I jumped slightly as I realized he had an erection tenting 
his sweats and I had moved my hand down far enough to brush 
against it.  Move away, I shouted to myself.  I was frozen.

He has an erection.  Oh my God.  I turned my head to really look at 
it and it looked impressive.  Was hard to tell through the sweats, 
but he obviously wasn't fully erect and it looked good size already.  
God Almighty.  I jerked back to awareness when his hand 
landed on my wrist, holding it in place.  I gasped and turned to 
look at him.

His eyes were wide open and I tried to jerk my hand away.  He 
held it firmly, but not squishing, just holding it in place.  "Sir ... 
Walter ... I'm sorry.  I have to go."

I tried to stand up but his other arm came up and grasped my hip, 
preventing me from standing.  I plunked back down from the few 
inches I had risen.  "Don't go," he said roughly.

"You're sick, Walter.  I'm sorry.  I've really crossed the line.  I'm 
sorry."  I tried to stand again but he held me in place.

The hand on my hip slid around and up my back, exerting gentle 
pressure on my back, tugging me towards his torso.  I bent at the 
waist, but squirmed.  "Walter ..."

"Let me hold you, Kim," he said in rough whisper.

"What?"

"Please ... let me hold you."

I didn't say anything, just stared at him, wanting it so bad but so 
afraid at the same time. 

As if he'd read my mind, he said, "I won't hurt you, Kim.  I'd never 
hurt you.  Please, stay with me a while.  Let me hold you."  His 
bottom lip quivered slightly.  "It's been so long since anyone 
touched me," he whispered.

I could NOT tell him no.  I felt my muscles relax and I sank down 
towards him, gently laying my head on his chest, his chin on the 
crown of my head.  I was still holding my weight up.  "Walter," I 
began.

"Shhh," he admonished.  "Come here."  He moved his legs up onto 
the couch and turned on his side, making room for me.  He tugged 
gently and I fell next to him, rolling into his body.  He lifted his leg 
and mine slid in between, my knee rising as if it had a will of its 
own.  

I stopped when I felt it brush the heat of his groin.  My skirt was 
bunched around my waist, and my shirt was pulled out of my waist 
and all askew.  He groaned quietly as my thigh brushed his balls.  I 
felt him harden against me.

"You're sick," I repeated stupidly, not knowing what the hell I was 
saying.  My nipples were now hard and brushing his chest.  My 
head was cushioned on his big bicep and his head lay against a 
small throw pillow that was on the couch.  

"Just hold me," he whispered. 

I felt the sadness again for this incredibly lonely man and slipped 
my arm over his torso.  He hummed with pleasure and I realized he 
wasn't the only one that was lonely.  When was the last time I had 
a date?  I kicked off my shoes and snuggled closer.

His warmth and the soft rumble of his chest lulled me as he 
hummed.  The next thing I knew, he was shaking me awake.  "Oh 
Geez!" I exclaimed as I tried to extricate myself from him.

"It's all right," he said.  "I need a tissue, unfortunately.  I need to 
get up."

"Oh, certainly, of course."  I rolled away from him and nearly fell 
off the couch.  He steadied me as I righted myself and stood up.

He followed slowly, groaning slightly as he stood and headed for 
the bathroom.  "Walter?" I asked.

He looked at me and waited.

"Should I go home now?  You really should get into your bed."

He smiled.  "No."  That was all he said as he tromped into the 
bathroom and I could hear him blowing his nose.  He emerged 
holding the entire box.  He approached me and with his free hand, 
slipped it over mine and tugged gently.

"Walter, what are you doing?"

"Come on."  He simply turned and towed me behind him into the 
bedroom.  It was large, but dominated by the California King Size 
bed in the center.  "We only slept a couple hours."

I glanced at the clock on his wall.  Indeed, it was 7:00 PM.  It was 
still light out.  "Walter, I don't know ... I mean ..." I hesitated.

He walked over to his dresser and opened a drawer.  He pulled out 
a tee shirt and tossed it to me.  "Sleep in this."

I swallowed hard.  "You're sure you want me to stay?"

"Very sure."  He could see my nervousness and hesitation.
"Please, Kim."

Damn it.  He'd said the magic word.  I never could say no when he 
said please.  I nodded and walked out to change in the bathroom.  I 
removed my wrinkled skirt and blouse.  I hesitated but then 
removed my bra, throwing the tee shirt over my head.  It swirled 
around me in a billowing cloud of Walter scent and I inhaled, 
feeling my nipples harden again.  I was only five foot, two inches 
tall.  Walter was six feet, two inches, an entire foot taller.  The shirt 
hung like a dress on me and I smiled.  

I folded my clothes carefully and carried them back into the 
bedroom with me.  I set them on the dresser and found myself 
having an attack of shyness.  He was already lying in the bed and I 
could see his eyes drooping as he looked at me languidly.

"Come on in, the water's fine," he joked in a groggy voice.

I smiled and approached slowly, running my hand over the maroon 
comforter.  He patted the bed.  "Walter, I'm sorry I'm being such a 
nerd."

He smiled a dopey smile and said, "You're not.  I know you're 
probably not tired."  He paused.  "I'm sorry I can't stay awake.  But 
I really don't want you to leave."

"I could sleep on the couch.  You could just holler if you need 
anything."

He shook his head.  "I want you next to me.  I'm too tired to attack 
you," he assured me.

I smiled softly at him, feeling tenderness wash over me.  Why was 
I so afraid of him?  I knew he respected me, all women for that 
matter.  I knew he wouldn't do anything I didn't want him to do.  
That was the problem.  Just what did I want him to do?  I didn't 
know.  I was afraid of my attraction to him.   "I know," I answered 
finally.

He said, "You look so tiny in that shirt."

I stepped quickly to the bed, lifted the comforter and sheets and 
slid quickly underneath onto my back, pulling the covers up to my 
chin.  "I am tiny," I remarked.

"I know," he said groggily, pulling me toward him and 
maneuvering me onto my side.  He slid his arm under my head 
again and tugged on my hip, pulling me back into his 
body.

SKIN!  Bare skin!  He'd taken his sweats off!  He was still wearing 
his tee shirt and boxer briefs.  He settled me firmly into the cradle 
of his hips and sighed loudly.  "Feels so nice," he mumbled, 
burying his nose in the hair at the back of my neck and making me 
shiver again.

I could do this, I told myself.  I didn't have to freak out.  He was 
sick and lonely and just needed me for company and to feel a little 
tenderness for a change.  I didn't need to turn into a basket case.  I 
didn't need to be all high school about this.  I was a grown woman 
for God's sake.

I took a deep breath and relaxed into his hold.  He hummed happily 
in the back of his throat and slid his hand off my hip and up onto 
my stomach, squeezing me gently.  I moaned softly, unable to help 
myself.

I didn't think I was tired, but within moments I was fast asleep, 
wrapped in a warm cocoon of Walter.

The next time I awoke, I found myself flat on my back, with 
Walter draped over one half of my body.  His nose was buried in 
the crook of my neck.  I turned my head to look at the clock and 
realized it was now about 3:00 AM.  Wow.  I'd slept a long time.  

My slight motion must have disturbed him cause his arm squeezed 
me gently where it lay across my stomach ending with his hand on 
my waist.  

He made adorable humming sounds and snuggled closer, one leg 
sliding between mine.  I had the inane thought of wondering 
whether I'd shaved my legs yesterday.  The hair on his legs sliding 
over my sensitive skin made me shiver again.  My nipples hardened.

Then I felt his bare leg slide up and brush gently against my mons.  
I moaned and felt warm wetness pool between my legs. 

My right hand reached over and slid down his back, realizing he'd 
lost his shirt at some point during the night.  He'd probably been 
too hot.  He groaned softly and squirmed against me again.  I 
glanced down as his head moved from my neck down to my 
shoulder.  Nope.  He was still asleep.  I gritted my teeth when I felt 
his warmth breath cascading over my breast.  Right through the tee 
shirt, I could feel the moist breath torturing my nipple into a hard, 
little peak. 

I tried to lie still.  I was enjoying this way too much, but I knew I 
couldn't let it go any further.  I couldn't do this.  It was dangerous.  
It was stupid.  It could end my career.  I noticed I could no longer 
hear the rattle in his breathing and hoped he was feeling better.

Then all thought left me as his hand slid up my torso under the tee 
shirt and cupped my unfettered breast, squeezing gently.  "Oh 
God," I moaned softly.  

He suddenly stiffened and I knew he was awake. He went stock 
still for several moments, assessing the situation, realizing he was 
lying half on top of me, had his head on my shoulder, his hand on 
my breast and his leg wedged between mine.

Then he let out the sexiest moan I'd ever heard, flexing his erection 
against my hip.  His lips slid up, brushing across my pulse. Then I 
felt his tongue snake out and lick me there where my pulse was 
suddenly beating a rapid tattoo.

His lips sucked gently on my skin and I gasped, "Oh God, Walter."

He moved so fast I hardly had time to realize what he was doing 
before he was straddling me and his lips came down on mine, 
forcing my mouth open and sliding his tongue into my mouth.  I 
thought briefly about the fact that he was sick and I probably 
would be too, but then I thought nothing as I sank into the pleasure 
of being kissed by Walter Skinner.

His fingers wove through my hair, holding my head in place as he 
firmly but gently plundered my mouth.  He pulled back briefly to 
nip at my swollen lips and lick them.  His eyes finally opened and 
he stared at me, his erection huge and throbbing against my 
stomach.  His voice was ragged when he finally said, "I want you 
so bad I could scream."

I gasped and ran my hands down his bulging biceps and onto his 
back.  He threw his head back, closing his eyes.  "Walter ..."

His eyes opened again and without saying a word, he lifted my tee 
shirt.  I found myself lifting my torso, assisting him as he slid it 
over my head.  He left it tangled around my forearms and wrists 
and pinned my hands above my head.  "Let me make love to you, 
Kim."

"You're delirious, Walter.  You're sick, and ..."

"I'm fine.  I'm not delirious, and I want you so bad, Kim."

I panted as my exposed breasts ached and my nipples hardened 
even further from the cold air.  "I can't lose everything just because 
of sex," I sobbed suddenly.

The tension was instantly gone from his face.  "You won't."

"How can you say that?  You're not in my position ... I know 
you're just horny, but what about later?"

He lowered himself gently above me, his hips touching down as 
my legs spread as if they had a mind of their own.  He grunted as 
we made contact, our underwear seeming to be little barrier to the 
heat we were generating despite this impromptu conversation.  "It's 
not just sex," he said.

"It's not?" I whimpered, feeling like an idiot.

His lips brushed my eyelids, then my nose, then my cheeks and 
finally moved to my mouth, stopping, but brushing my lips as he 
talked.  "You know it isn't."

"Do I?  How the hell would I know that?"

He scrunched his brow and as if he realized I had no reason to 
think otherwise, he said, "I'm crazy about you, Kim."

"It's the hormones, talking.  I'm lonely too, but ..."

He kissed me gently.  "I'm almost 50, I don't have any hormones," 
he said.

I tried to laugh but it fell flat and he ignored it anyway, kissing his 
way over my jaw and up to my ear.  His hot breath bathed my ear 
as he said, "I've been crazy about you for a long time, Kim."

I stared at him incredulously.  "You're kidding, you're just saying 
that ... you ..."

"No.  I fell for you a long time ago."

"How can that be?"

He smiled.  "Why do think I got divorced?"

"WHAT?  That's crazy.  You got divorced because you worked all 
the time, because you were never home and she couldn't take it 
anymore.  You got divorced because you'd drifted apart."

"All that's true.  Why do you think that was?"

"Why what was what?" I asked, not even making sense to myself.

"Why do you think things were that way between Sharon and I?  
Why do you think I spent more and more time at work and less and 
less time at home?  Why do you think we drifted apart?"

"I don't know!  A million reasons."

"No, not a million reasons.  Even Sharon knew before the end.  
She accused me and I denied it, but deep down I knew it was true."

"Knew what?  What did she accuse you of?" I asked, my arms 
relaxing onto the bed as he tugged the tee shirt off my arms.  

Released, I lowered them to touch his biceps.  He was silent for a 
long moment and then said, "She said, 'You don't come home 
anymore because you're in love with your secretary'."

"What?  That's crazy.  That was two years ago you divorced ..."

He nodded.  "I know."

My brain was spinning.  Could any of this be true?  Or was he just 
telling me what I would want to hear to get me to sleep with him?  
No.  He wouldn't manipulate me like that.  Would he?  How much 
did I really know him?  "What are you saying?" I finally asked.

He brushed his lips over mine.  "I'm in love with you, Kimberly 
Cooke."

"No, you ..."

There was that damn finger again, pressing against my lips.  "Look 
at me," he commanded.  

I had no choice.  His eyes locked with mine and I saw them pool 
with tears that didn't fall.  "I've spent two years waiting.  Just 
waiting for the chance to tell you ... to ask you if I had a chance 
with you."

"Chance with ME?"

He nodded.  "I know I'm older than you, but, God Kim!  I dream 
about you.  I lay awake at night and ache cause I want you here 
with me, knowing I couldn't have you and there was nothing I 
could do about it.  What would you want with an old man like 
me?"

My eyes were wide now.  I was stunned by his emotional 
admission.  My boss did not get emotional like this.  This was not 
the A.D. Skinner I knew.  No, I realized.  It wasn't.  This was 
Walter, the man.  Tortured, lonely, and so generous with himself to 
all his agents, and to me.  He was telling me he loved me and I was 
laying here like a dead fish!

I suddenly didn't care anymore.  I wanted him with an intensity 
that was vaguely terrifying.  I grabbed the sides of his head and 
pulled him down to me, crushing his lips to mine.

He grunted but responded immediately, kissing me with both 
tenderness and passion.  He made hungry sucking noises as he 
worried my bottom lip.  My mind was awash with pleasure as I felt 
him lift and one hand tugged on my panties.  I squirmed and 
kicked them down my legs.  He flopped to the side, ripping his 
boxer briefs off and tossing them over his shoulder.

He was back quickly, kissing me, his hand roaming down my body 
and finally finding my slick center.  My wet nether lips split open 
at the touch of his fingers and flooded his hand with the juices of 
my arousal.  "Oh Jesus, Kim," he muttered.

I reached down and tried to grab his cock.  My hand slid over the 
hot, pulsing flesh and I gasped, realizing my hand would not close 
around it.  It was so THICK.  I slid my hand from the tip toward 
the base; down, down, down.  Holy shit, how big was he? 

I tossed the covers away as he groaned.  Then we moaned together 
as we watched my hand stroke him.  My hand looked so small.  
Christ, how was he going to get that inside me?  Something must 
have shown on my face, cause he said immediately, "I won't hurt 
you, Kim."

"I know you won't.  God, it's huge," I whispered in spite of myself.

He chuckled and proceeded to kiss, suckle and lick my breasts 
until I was squirming and whimpering under his ministrations.

Then he was there, poised at my entrance.  I lifted my legs and 
draped them over his hips.  He nudged my entrance with the flared 
tip of his shaft and pushed.  I sucked in a breath as I felt him start 
to enter, his glans spreading my lips wide.  It had been a while and 
he was so big.  However, he was gentle and slow, applying firm 
pressure.

I squeaked, "Oh God," as I felt the head of his cock slide in and my 
lips close behind it.

"Holy shit," he muttered.  Then he resumed pushing gently, sliding 
slowly but steadily inside, spreading me wide and touching places 
inside me I knew had never been touched.

Waves of almost unbearable pleasure raced through me and I could 
feel my vaginal walls pulsating against him and beginning to 
quiver with tension and excitement.  My body was trembling.  I 
wanted to be bound in mind and body with this man.  I realized 
that I loved him too.  I just hadn't wanted to admit it.  However, his 
admission made me feel like a coward.

I choked out, "I love you, too, Walter."

"Oh FUCK!" he yelled and rammed himself side, slamming 
himself down to the balls.

I shrieked with pleasure/pain and arched my back.  "Ohhh, God!"

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, Kim.  Are you all right?"  He feathered kisses 
over my face until my breathing slowed and I opened my eyes and 
smiled at him.

"I'm all right.  Do it.  Make love to me."

"Oh, yeah," he agreed, and starting to pulse his hips against me.  
He gradually lengthened his strokes until he was pulling all but the 
head of his cock, and then pushing it steadily back in. 

"Faster," I muttered, feeling my orgasm fast approaching.  

He moaned again.  "Oh God, this is heaven, Kim."

I smiled and met his thrusts with my hips.  He sped up slightly and 
without warning I felt my climax explode in my brain.  White 
lights flashed behind my eyelids, and my walls cinched down on 
his enormous cock.  I cried out, "Oh Jesus, Yes, Walter, Oh God, 
I'm coming!"
 
He sped up at my words, sliding into me faster and harsher.  As I 
came down I could hear the slap of his skin against mine.  We 
were both sweating now.

He panted harshly above me and I rubbed his arms and the back of 
his neck, murmuring, "Yeah, baby.  That's it.  Come for me."

"You're like tight velvet!" he wailed, ramming into me.  He shifted 
slightly and I felt his pubic bone crushing my clit with every 
stroke.

I hollered, "Oh Jesus, Walter.  Oh God, just like that!"

His eyes widened as he realized that I was approaching another 
climax.  He pumped even harder, my body staring to shake and 
convulse as it hit me, his stroking pushing me deeper in my orgasm 
and prolonging it for a ridiculous amount of time.

Finally I was quivering and spent beneath him.  I reached down 
and scratched my nails gently over his buttocks.  He bellowed, his 
agitated cock twitching inside me.  Then he was shouting 
incoherently as he emptied into me, bathing my walls with his 
cum.  His cock jerked one last time and then he collapsed, and we 
melted together on the mattress.

"Oh my God, Kim!"

"I know."

"No, oh shit.  I didn't use protection, Kim."

I smiled.  "It's all right.  I'm on the pill.  I should have told you."

He breathed a sigh of relief and rolled off me.  "Not that I wouldn't 
be happy about it if it did happen."

"Little early for that, wouldn't you say?" I said, smiling and rolling 
toward him.

"Yeah, but Kim.  This wasn't a one shot deal.  You know that 
right?"

"Better not be.  You told me you loved me."

"I did.  And I meant it."

"Good."

He palmed my face gently.  "Do you really love me?" he asked.

I nodded and said, "Yes, I do."

"It's like a miracle," he said softly.

"Why?"

"I'd gotten so jaded, I didn't think I would ever have anyone love 
me ever again.  I thought Sharon had been my one chance and I'd 
blown it.  I never thought I had a chance with you."

"Why not?" I asked.

He raised his eyebrows.  "Come on, Kim. Look at me!"

"I am.  I have been for quite some time.  Your body is 
magnificent!"

"I'm old and bald," he said emphatically.

"You're buff and sexy," I countered.

"I'm what? Fifteen years older than you?"

"How old are you?"

He grimaced.  "Forty-eight."

"I should have known that.  I'm 37, Walter."

"Oh woo hoo, only eleven years older."

"I don't care, Walter."

He leaned in and kissed me tenderly.  "Still want to leave?" he 
asked playfully.

"Not on your life.  You're stuck with me now.  And I'll be damned 
if you're tossing my ass out at 4:30 in the morning!"

He chuckled and turned me over, spooning up behind me.  "Good 
night, beautiful," he whispered.

"Good night, Walter."

"We'll talk in the morning.  I feel a lot better, but I'm still tired."

"You probably gave me the creeping crud," I teased sleepily.

"Then we can spend more time in bed together," he whispered.

I chuckled and snuggled closer.  He squeezed me tightly and we 
fell asleep.  I decided I would worry about what tomorrow would 
bring ... tomorrow.  He wasn't the only one that had been jaded.

No longer.  I was in love.

THE END.