CHAPTER SIX

Skinner puttered around in the kitchen area for a while then popped
his head into the sleeping area. "Lunch is ready. Do you want to eat
in here or out there?"

"I'll come out." Krycek said and tossed his magazine aside.

Skinner had made ham and cheese sandwiches and vegetable soup. They
both ate ravenously. Skinner poured them each a second cup of coffee
and offered Krycek some more Tylenol.

"How's the pain? Any better?"

"It's there. It won't get any better until I get these damn stitches
out."

"They've got to stay in for at least ten days. Otherwise that wound
could open up again and you'd be right back where you started.
Infection could set in and you'd be in serious trouble before you knew
what was happening."

"I know, I know. Jeeze, you're a pain in the ass, Skinner." Krycek
swallowed his pills and went back in to his bed.

Skinner cleaned up the lunch mess then lay down for a nap himself. He
awoke a few hours later to hear someone rustling around in the other
room. A glance across to Krycek's sleeping area showed him missing
and Skinner heard the port-a-potty flush and he relaxed. He reached
over and picked up the bag with the books inside and selected one and
started reading.

The rest of the afternoon passed silently as both men kept their noses
in their books. Skinner was half way through his book before he
decided he was hungry again.

"Are you about ready to eat?" He asked.

"I could eat." Krycek agreed.

Twenty minutes later he called Krycek for dinner. They ate their
steaks, Ranch Style beans and salad and right after Krycek went to
bed. Skinner cleaned things up and lay back down himself and read
until he was sleepy.

Things went on pretty much the same for the next several days. They
ate, read, and slept. Skinner went out every day and scouted the
perimeter of their camp site to make sure there was no activity. He
went out as far back as the main road and back again.

Skinner fished and brought in some nice trout which he battered and
fried up. Two days in a row it rained solid and Krycek was getting
antsy. He was stronger now and his wound was healing nicely.

"Well, I've read everything I brought and I think you have too so why
don't we sit and talk?" Skinner pulled out one of the lawn chairs and
sat after cleaning up with a fresh change of clothes.

"What's to talk about?" Krycek said standing in the doorway watching
the rain.

"We need to make some plans, decide where we want to go from here."

"What do you mean?" Krycek turned to look at him.

"How long do you think we'll have to hide out? How much danger do you
think we're really in and what can we do about it to get out lives
back to normal?"

"Normal? What's normal?" Krycek scoffed.

"You know what I mean. You certainly don't plan on us hiding out
indefinitely."

"You can go back any time you want. Just watch your back because they
know that you helped me."

"I'm not going back until we're both safe."

"Ha ha ha." Krycek gave a sarcastic chuckle. "There is no place
safe. Don't you know that by now?"

"We seem to be pretty safe right here."

"Yeah, but for how long? We can't stay out here forever and they know
that. They'll just wait until we've had our fill of hiding and come
back."

"Then we might as well go back right now and face them."

"NO! I don't want you any deeper in this than you already are.
You've already done enough."

"Apparently not, if our lives are still in danger."

"Skinner … it really doesn't matter any more." Krycek said as he ran
his hand through his hair and turned back to watch the rain.

"So you're just going to give up – let them finish what you started?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying?"

"You may as well know I've got something they want – something they'd
be willing to kill both of us to get."

"And what would that be?" Skinner got up and walked over to the door way.

"Those credit cards. They were the old man's."

"So all this is about a couple of credit cards?"

"Totally untraceable credit cards, to a Swiss bank account holding all
the accumulated funds of the Consortium over the last fifty years."

"I see. The same credit cards that we've been using?"

"Yes."

"And I take it we're not talking about a small amount?"

"Even I don't know the exact amount. Let's just say that the holder
of these cards would be one of the richest men in the world."

"That's a lot of money!" Skinner whistled. "And it's all dirty?"

"No. A great deal of it was invested in legitimate businesses that
have helped to increase the bottom line immeasurably."

"And what exactly is your plan for all that money?"

"Huh? Oh you mean … I just figured to give it all to charity."

"Well, that's a noble thought."

"I wasn't trying to be noble, Skinner. I just didn't want them to get
it. With that kind of money they could get a foot hold and build back
up again. I intend to see that, that doesn't happen."

"There are no other cards? No one else has access to those accounts?"

"No. These cards are the only ones."

"And if you'd killed yourself back there, how would anyone know to
look in your boot?"

"I sent you a letter – Special Delivery."

"And what does this letter say?"

"Just that I had taken out the old man and that there was a bunch of
money from the group and where the cards were. I asked that you give
it to some charity."

Skinner didn't know what to say to that so he just stood there, hands
on hips.

The rain finally stopped and Krycek went out for a walk. Skinner
grabbed his jacket and took off to have a look around as he hadn't
been out the last two days.

The next day was bright and sunny and after looking around the place
Skinner took two empty water cans and headed for the stream. He
walked back carrying the two five gallon water jugs he had just
refilled. He came into the tent to see Krycek with his shirt off and
trying to remove his stitches.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking these goddamned stitches out!"

"You can't do that. It hasn't been ten days yet." Skinner sat the
water jugs down and came over to Krycek.

"I don't care! They are coming out now! I can't stand it any longer.
They hurt more than my side does. I want them out!" He tried to
slip his knife in under a stitch.

"Ok. Ok – just a minute. Let me do it." Skinner turned him around
so he could take a closer look at the wound. "It looks like it's
closed up all right and I don't see any signs of infection."

"Just get them out!"

"We still have to be careful. Put your knife away." He went into the
bathroom area and brought out the large bowl they had been using for a
basin and set it on the table. He dug around in the first aid kit and
pulled out a small pair of scissors and took the plastic wrap off,
then uncapped a bottle of alcohol. He held the scissors over the
basin and poured alcohol over them and his hands. Then he held a wad
of cotton against the open bottle and tipped it over and back again
and dabbed the alcohol all around the wound.

"Jesus, Skinner, will you just get on with it!" Krycek was surly and
impatient.

"You don't want to risk an infection now." Skinner insisted as he
picked up the scissors and started clipping each stitch. Next he
picked up the tweezers, sterilized them and began pulling out the
stitches one by one and dropping them into the basin. Once he had
them all out, Krycek started to pull away.

"Just a minute!" Skinner stopped him. "You need to keep it bandaged
at least for another day or so. He dabbed at the wound again and made
sure each little stitch hole had alcohol squeezed into it.

"Christ!" Krycek complained, disgusted with the entire procedure.

Skinner pulled out and un-wrapped two four-by-four gauze bandages to
cover the wound which was approximately six inches long. He taped
them into place and Krycek wrenched himself away and pulled his shirt
back into place.

"Why do you have to be so goddamned nice!" He snarled at Skinner.

"What's this all about, Krycek?" Skinner asked as he cleaned up the
mess and put the first aid kit back together.

"I just … I'm ready to get out of here. I can't stand this … this
stupid tent out in the middle of nowhere. I want to leave."

"It's only been seven days. Do you think it's safe?"

"Safe? Safe?" Krycek demanded as he paced the small area. "Haven't
you learned by now that there is no place 'safe' in this world?"

"What is it, Krycek? What's got you so upset? Did you hear something
out in the woods while I was gone?"

"Who could hear anything way out here in the middle of nowhere?
There's nothing out there, Skinner, nothing!"

"Is it the food? I can drive into town and stock up and be back in a
couple of hours."

"It's not the fucking food, Skinner! Shit, shit, shit!" Krycek paced
angrily.

"Well what is it then? Come on, Krycek, spit it out!" Skinner demanded.

"It's THIS!" He waved his arm around the tent. "And YOU! I never
expected any of this! I never asked for any of this!"

"You're angry because I've tried to make us comfortable?" Skinner
couldn't quite get it together.

"All right. All right. Listen. It was all a lie."

"A lie? What was? You mean you didn't really get the Bulldog?"

"Oh I got him all right and he's the one who got me. His goons went
down easy but that bastard hung on until I had his face smashed to a
bloody pulp."

"Then what was the lie?"

Krycek stopped his pacing and faced Skinner. "All the rest. We're
not in any danger. There's no one left. There's no one trying to
resurrect the group, no one looking for me."

Skinner stared at him dumbfounded. After a few moments to let the
words sink in he asked, "Why? Why then did we go through all this?"

"I was in pain, I was weak. I needed someone to look after me."
Krycek looked down at his stocking feet and for the first time in many
years he felt ashamed.

"You mean there's no one after us, and the only reason we're out here
in the middle of no where is because you needed someone to help you?
Why didn't you just ask?"

"I couldn't."

"Why the hell not?"

"I just couldn't, that's all. Not from you."

"Why not from me?"

"Because of your crazy notion about saving my soul! I figured if I
didn't make it, you'd have one more reason to hate me and yourself."
He paced some more then added. "Shit, Skinner! I had no idea you'd
go and do all this! I figured we'd just go to some motel some where
and you could, I don't know, get me food and stuff for a few days
until I got my strength back."

"Hate myself?" Skinner stood in the middle of the floor, hands on
hips while Krycek paced restlessly. "You think I hate myself?"

"Why do you think you're doing all this? Why do you think you've
strived so hard to be Mr. Perfect?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You were brought up in the perfect family, had the perfect life until
you joined the Marines and went into combat. Every since then, you've
been driven to be perfect; the perfect patient, the perfect student,
the perfect agent and the perfect AD. It's like you're trying to make
up reasons why you were allowed to survive when so many others didn't!"

"You are out of your fucking mind, Krycek!"

"Am I? Or are you trying to make up for the things you did over
there, the people you killed, the drugs you did, the whores you
screwed? None of that fit in with your perfect image, did it?"

"What gives you the right to … analyze me and my motives?" Skinner
demanded.

"What gives you the right to analyze me and mine?" Krycek countered.

"All right, all right. Let's just settle down here and discuss things
rationally."

"There's nothing to discuss. I want to leave here. I want to get
back to the city."

"All right. If that's what you want."

"It is."

Skinner set about dismantling the camp then. He loaded up all the
equipment, then began taking down the tent. Krycek wandered around
staying out of the way until the last bits and pieces were stored in
the pickup then climbed into the passenger side.

Skinner pulled the rest of the branches off the truck, got in and
started it up. He managed to get it turned around and headed back
towards the road. They were back on the highway and drove for about
an hour before Skinner finally spoke.

"I knew you needed someone to look after you and I would have helped.
You didn't need to make up any lies."

"It's done now, Skinner – forget it."

Skinner waited a few minutes before answering. "What else did you lie
about?"

"What does it matter? I lie. It's what I do."

"Well, you don't have to do it with me!"

"Oh that's right. You're out to save my soul. I keep forgetting."
Krycek sneered sarcastically.

"Krycek, this is serious. I know what I saw and heard and I know it
wasn't some sort of drug induced dream."

"You actually think you saw and spoke with Saint Peter and got a
glimpse into Heaven and Hell?"

"I did!"

"Then you're the one who needs help, Skinner, not me!"

"Krycek, just think about it for a minute; what if I'm right? Do you
dare take that chance?"

"I take chances every day of my life. Why should this one be any
different?"

"Because this one concerns the damnation of your soul throughout all
eternity!"

Krycek let out a sarcastic laugh. "You sound like Billy Graham."

Skinner pulled the truck off the road into a rest area and turned to
Krycek. "Krycek … Alex – It really happened. I swear to you, it did!
I SAW St. Peter and I SAW Satan."

"All right, I believe that you THINK you saw all that. I just don't
see how you expect to … to 'redeem' me, or whatever the hell you call it."

"Well, this charity thing for one. You said you wanted all the money
in that account to go to a charity. I think that's a great idea but I
don't think you should give all that money to just one charity like
that. I think you should take some time and do some research on the
subject. There are a lot of charities that collect money and spend
seventy, eighty percent of the money on organizational expenses and
very little of the money actually funnels down to where it's needed."

"Don't they have people, or organizations that do that?"

"Yeah, they do; people who are living in million dollar homes, driving
Cadillacs and wearing Rolex watches – all being paid for by these
'charities'. If there's as much money in that account as you say
there is and you really want it to get where it's most needed, then do
it the right way. Take the time to investigate and make sure before
it gets handed over to one group who might just be so grateful that
all the top executives take a vacation to Paris in celebration of
their windfall."

"I thought you could pick out one that was pretty reliable."

" We've caught more than a few scam artists who have wormed their way
into the hierarchy of reputable charities and managed to drain off
millions."

"I guess there's that kind in every group."

"Yes, but you have the knowledge and the where-with-all to do some
digging and find out these things that the normal smuck handing over
his hard earned dollars doesn't. And you're not talking about handing
over dollars; you're talking about handing over millions."

"I guess I could do a little research."

"Of course you could. I could help. I was planning on doing the
exact same thing, only on a much smaller scale, when I retire. My
wife left me a large estate. I plan on donating it to charity but not
before I do some considerable research."

"And you think this would buy me that golden ticket into Heaven?"

"Hell, I don't know. I just know you've got to try. You've got to
figure out some way to turn your life around and take advantage of
this second chance you've been given."

"Is that the way you see all this? Like a second chance for me?"

"Yes! I do. Find yourself a nice place to live. Get out of that
warehouse district slum and into a nice place. Just a change of
scenery will make a world of difference in how you feel about yourself."

"Please, no more analyzing!" Krycek scoffed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I know when Sharon left me
and then died, I felt like hell for months. It didn't get any better
until I moved. I was living in some shitty little apartment I hated
so much I never even unpacked. I finally got out of there and into a
decent place in an upscale neighborhood and it made a world of
difference in how I felt about myself and about my life."

Krycek sighed and looked out the window.

"Some of that money must be yours. Use it. Find a new place to
live, buy yourself a new wardrobe, a car. Start living a life you
could be proud of."

"Doing charity work you mean."

"Why not? Charity work, volunteer work – there is always a great need
for volunteers."

"And what if I run into someone I know?"

"Hell, I don't have all the answers. Just … try not to kill anyone
else." He said half joking.

"You think I kill because I enjoyed it?"

"I have no idea and it really doesn't matter as long as you stop it."

"You've killed people."

"Yes, I have but that was different. It was war, in the line of
duty." Skinner defended himself.

"I see. So it makes a difference if it's hundreds or thousands of
people are doing the killing in some foreign country or if it's one
person alone in this country trying to survive and keep from being
killed?"

"Legally, yes, there is a difference."

"I'm talking to a lawyer now?"

"I'm just trying to explain the legalities of the different situations."

"Do you think it makes any difference in the way you feel about
killing and the way I feel about killing?"

"I wouldn't know that."

"There is no difference. You hated what you did over there and what
you have to do here sometimes in the line of duty. It sickened you.
That's why you make up for it by being perfect. Well this might
surprise you, but I hate it too. It sickens me too. The only
difference is that I don't have a way to make up for it."

"Yes you do – just what we were talking about here. Give back to
society in some way. And just turning over all of the Consortium's
money in one lump sum to some charity won't get it. It has to be
something that you give of yourself – your time, your care, your
consul – something!"

"So you think reading books to some kid in a hospital will turn my
life around?"

"No I don't. That's up to you. You've got to want to do it. You've
got to believe you can do it. Then you've got to go out and actually
do it. Once you volunteer even one time, you will see how great the
need is. If reading to children doesn't appeal to you, how about
volunteering at a Veteran's hospital? Your help there would be
invaluable speaking with other amputees. Or if you don't want to work
with people, volunteer at the Humane Society and work with animals.
They are always under-funded and under-staffed."

"I do like animals. I never thought about that."

"Well there you go. There is so much out there, Alex, so much need in
so many places. And you need something that will challenge you, keep
you interested and occupied. Killing yourself would be such a waste
when there is so much need."

"I guess I could check into a few things. I do like the idea of the
Humane Society. I just figured it was filled up with a bunch of rich
old ladies who had nothing better to do with their time."

"I'm sure there are some like that working there – good for them.
They saw a need and stepped in to fill it. If you were there to take
over some of the duties; that might just free them up to organize
another debutante ball or something."

"Or get some more of that blue tint put in their hair." Krycek added
with a grin.

"That's right! You know how they love that 'natural' look." Skinner
grinned back.

"Well let's get going then. I can see I've got a lot of work ahead of
me."























CHAPTER SEVEN

Skinner pulled the truck back out on the highway and drove with a
lighter heart. Maybe, just maybe, he might have gotten through to Krycek.

Several hours later Skinner pulled into his underground parking area
at the Viva Towers. He turned the ignition off and handed Krycek the
keys.

"I'd really like to help you with this, Alex. I want this to work."

"You've already helped more than you'll ever know."

"Look, it's late. Why don't you spend the night here? I've got two
bedrooms and plenty of room. You cold stay here until you found a new
place."

"Still trying to keep an eye on me?" Krycek laughed.

"No … yes … no, not really. It just makes more sense. I hate to
think of you going back to that place. Does it even have hot water
for a shower?"

"Sometimes it does."

"Well I've got plenty of hot water. You can get cleaned up, we can
wash your clothes and you can get a fresh start in the morning. In
fact, if I'm not mistaken, tomorrow is Saturday. I could help you
find an apartment, help you move."

"I don't have all that much to move."

"I could still help. I had a moving company move me and it wasn't the
best experience. They charged a fortune and I didn't like strangers
going through all my stuff and knowing about everything that I had.
It was … unsettling."

Krycek sat and stared at him. Would he ever know all there was to
know about this man?

"Come on. I've got some steaks in the freezer. I can thaw them out
in no time and throw some other stuff together to go with it. You've
got to be hungry."

"I could eat." Krycek gave a slow grin. "You really want me to stay
with you?"

"Sure. Why not? We can get on the internet and check around for
apartments and first thing in the morning we can go check them out."
He climbed out of the truck and Krycek followed. They grabbed their
bags from the back of the truck and headed for the elevator.

"I'm not particularly fond of high-rises." Krycek said as they
entered the elevator.

"Neither am I. This place is just what happened to be available when
I was looking and it was furnished. I was pretty busy at the time and
didn't want to take the time to shop."

"You think I could find a place furnished?"

"It's possible. We won't know that until we see what's available."
Skinner unlocked his door and they went inside.

"The one thing I don't understand, Skinner, is why you don't hate me
for lying about people being after us."

Skinner tossed his keys on his desk and peeled off his coat. "You
know, I hated you for so long for so many things, that one more little
lie because you needed help, isn't that big a deal. I can understand
why you did it." He went into the kitchen, took the steaks out of the
freezer and placed them into the microwave and set the timer. Walking
back into the living room he said. "I'll flip you to see who gets the
shower first."

"No. You go ahead. You've got dinner to cook." Krycek said and
followed him up the stairs.

Skinner showed him into the spare bedroom, pulled out a fresh set of
linens and made the bed up. Krycek helped when he could but he didn't
do a whole lot of bending or pulling. Once the pillows had clean
covers on, Skinner fluffed them up and tossed them on the bed.

"It's all yours. I'll be out of the shower in five minutes, ten tops."

"Thanks. Take your time." Krycek sat on the edge of the bed and
wondered at his new surroundings. The room seemed incredibly large
and lonely after the small tent room they had shared. He had a
feeling he was not going to sleep nearly as well tonight without the
quiet rumble of Skinner's light snoring just a few feet away. With a
sigh, he drew out a clean set of clothes from his bag and grinned at
the thought of Skinner washing them out in the river. He held them to
his face and inhaled the river water scent. He thought he had never
smelled anything quite so wonderful.

"Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes." Skinner called to him
through the open doorway and headed down stairs.

Krycek took a long time in the shower. Standing there and letting the
warm water wash down over his body. He soaped up and for the first
time in a long time he felt himself aroused. He was in Skinner's
apartment naked, in his shower, and Skinner was cooking him another
dinner after taking care of him for a week. There was just something
about Skinner; something that he couldn't quite identify. He gave
himself a good squeeze, rinsed off and got out. He dressed after
re-bandaging himself and hurried down stairs.

"There you are. Did you put on a new bandage?"

"I did. And I used that spray stuff too."

"Good! There's no need to risk infection at this stage of the game."
Skinner was standing at his small bar and offered Krycek a drink.

"No thanks. I'm not all that much of a drinker."

"Dinner should be ready in about five minutes."

"It smells delicious." Krycek said, a little awkward with himself
after his thoughts in the shower.

"There's a butcher over on Clarington Place just off Wellington where
I get all my steaks. He always does right by me. I've never gotten a
bad one there."

"I know the area. A lot of nice up-scale restaurants in that area."

"Yeah. That's probably what keeps him going. His prices are high but
he carries only top quality cuts." They heard a ding out in the
kitchen. "That's it," he grinned and the two of them headed into the
kitchen.

Skinner had the table all set and Krycek took a seat. He pulled the
steaks out from under the broiler and placed one on each of their
plates. He opened the bottom oven and pulled out a pan of dinner
rolls that he dumped into a towel lined bowl and placed it on the
table beside the bowl of steaming corn on the cob.

"You really do enjoy all this cooking shit; don't you?" Krycek said
as he placed his napkin into his lap.

"I love it!" Skinner said as he filled their wine glasses and placed
them next to their water glasses.

"I can tell." Krycek said as he sipped his water.

"There's nothing like a well cooked meal. It's one of the greatest
pleasures in life."

"Said by a man who lives alone. Talk about a waste!" Krycek grinned
as he placed the first bite of steak into is mouth.

Skinner grinned at him around a mouth full of steak. "A man alone has
got to have something to do. He can't read all the time."

"You could always go out and find some company."

"I could, I suppose. But I've never had very much luck in that
department."

"Maybe you've been looking in the wrong department?"

Skinner sipped his wine and eyed Krycek. Was he baiting him or
flirting with him? He couldn't tell but the banter intrigued him.

"What about you? From what you've told me of your life, you've been
alone most of it."

"All of it. There has never been anybody – at least no one that I
ever lived with, or cared enough about to live with."

"That's too bad." Skinner sympathized.

"It's not like I would have wanted to share what was happening in my
life with anyone I really cared about anyway."

"It must have been very lonely."

"I've been alone all my life. I'm used to it."

"Sometimes I like it." Skinner said, "But other times, like now, I
really enjoy the company."

Krycek felt the heat rise behind his ears and thought for sure his
cheeks reddened. "Any port in a storm, I guess." He said and got back
to work on his steak.

"It's not that way at all, Alex." Skinner noticed he had called him
by his first name and it sort of baffled him. "I enjoy your company."

Krycek looked up at him, shock evident on his face.

"I know. That's the last thing either of us ever thought we'd hear
out of me, but it's true." Skinner added.

"Why? I mean … I'm nothing."

"On the contrary – now that I know more about you, I find your story
fascinating. It's a miracle you ever made it through all the things
that have happened to you. You should write a book about your life."

Krycek chuckled at that. "And who would want to read a book about an
ex-assassin?"

"I would. There are many reasons why people turn out the way that
they do. It's always interesting to see the circumstances they were
faced with and try figure out why they made the decisions that they did."

Krycek sipped his wine and nodded his head. "I suppose that's true.
There never usually is just one thing that suddenly turns a person
bad. It's usually a series of circumstances that they saw no other
way around than the way they took."

"That's a very good explanation. You might actually give some thought
to writing. I'm sure you could come up with some hair-raising stories."

"I'm sue I could. But the last thing I need to be thinking about
right now is writing. How would that serve society?"

"There are many different ways to serve society, Alex." He did it
again, called him by his first name. It just kept slipping out. "It
doesn't all have to be in the same way. There's nothing wrong with a
little entertainment – just a little something to think about when
you're not doing charity work."

Krycek snorted and took a drink of water. "It looks like you've got
my life all planned out for me – investigating charities, doing
volunteer work, working at the Humane Society and in my spare time,
writing novels."

"I'm not planning your life out for you. I'm just trying to show you
some options available to you. You don't have to do any of them if
you don't want to. You can find some place, sit back and watch TV and
play video games if that's what you prefer."

"It's not. Actually, I like all the suggestions you've made. The
difficulty is going to be choosing which one I really want to do."

"There's no reason why you can't try them all. And I want to hear
about each one. Please, I mean it. I want to know what you decide
on; I want to know how it works out for you."

"This is all for the benefit of St. Peter?" Krycek teased as he
started in on his second ear of corn.

"No. I want you to do something that you'll be proud of. I don't
care what it is as long as it's something that you enjoy and will make
you feel good about yourself afterwards."

"You really think I can do this? Turn my life around?"

"I do. There's nothing behind you now, pushing or pulling you off in
the wrong directions. It's time to show the world what you're made
of. If you put half as much effort into it as you did in needling me,
you should be able to make it easily." He grinned.

Krycek dumped the empty corn cob on his plate and wiped his mouth with
his napkin.
"I really do want to try. I just don't know if I can make it."

"You'll never know if you don't try. And if you make it, it will be a
whole new world for you to enjoy."

"That's a pretty big 'if'."

"I know. They usually are when it's this important."

"I guess it can't hurt anything to try."

"That's the spirit! And I'll be here if you need any help. You know
how to get in touch with me. I'll help any way I can."

Krycek stood up, picked up his plate and carried it to the sink and
rinsed it. Skinner did the same with his empty plate.

"Thanks for dinner. It was perfect like every other meal you fixed
for us."

"Will you please quit with the 'perfect' shit? I'm getting a complex
here."

They both chuckled.

"If you need anything, give me a holler." Skinner said as Krycek took
to the stairs.

"I'm fine. I just need some sleep and some time to think."


Skinner cleaned up the kitchen then decided to turn in himself. It
felt good being back in his own bed again. He wallowed in the luxury
of his king-sized mattress and soon fell fast asleep.

He woke up in the morning, excited at the start of a new day. He
stopped at the guest room door, found it opened and empty. He bounded
down the stairs, certain that Krycek must be in the kitchen starting
coffee but the kitchen was empty. The apartment was empty. He
checked out the downstairs bathroom and called out, "ALEX!" but there
was no answer. The stillness over powered him. He walked numbly to
his desk and sat down to think.

There in the middle of his desk lay a single sheet of paper. He
picked it up and read the neat block printing.

"Skinner,

I'm sorry for everything, I really am. I needed help and you were
there for me. Thank you. I won't forget it. Please don't let my
leaving like this make you hate me even more than you already do.
Whatever's left of my life, I have to figure out what to do with it on
my own.

Alex"

Skinner pounded his fist on the desk and got up angrily and strode
over to the sliding glass door to his balcony. He flung it open and
stepped out side; gulping in lungs full of fresh air. "Alex Krycek,
you stupid son of a bitch, if you kill yourself, I'll kick your skinny
ass!"

xxxxxx

It was a long, cold, boring, nasty winter but it seemed to be finally
over with. There hadn't been any snow in weeks, the sun seemed to be
warmer and out longer each day. Summer was just around the corner and
all the talk at the Hoover was everyone trying to slot out their
summer vacation days off.

Skinner went about his business and just mumbled a non-committal
answer when he was asked when he wanted to take off. He heard his
secretary explaining to the group as she ushered them out of her
office that her boss seldom took vacations. He hurried on by and got
busy at his desk, glad to be able to close he door between him and the
joyous group discussing plans for cruises, family vacations, etc.

He picked up a bottle of scotch on his way home and dreaded the
weekend. He'd work hard and find something to do to keep his mind
occupied. It had been five months now. He hardly ever thought about
Alex at all any more. He stopped worrying about a suicide as he was
sure it would have been in the paper or on the news. He did check in
occasionally with the Morgue to see if they had any un-identified
bodies that were unclaimed.

But he didn't worry about him any more. Whatever Alex was going to
do, he'd do it. There was nothing more he could do to help him. He
did wonder though. He wondered where he was and if he had found a
better place to live. His old land lady said he hadn't left a
forwarding address. He wondered if his wound had healed and if he had
found something to occupy his time other than thoughts of suicide. He
wondered a lot about him but wondering wasn't the same as worrying.
The thing he wondered the most was how Alex had come to matter so much
to him in such a short time when he had spent so many years hating
him. Twice he spotted a silver pickup with a camper shell and thought
it might be him but it wasn't.

He tossed his keys and mail on his desk, removed his jacket and tie
and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. He fixed himself a drink,
sat on the couch and tried to unwind. He wondered if he would ever
see Alex again. He hoped that if he got into any trouble that someone
would be there to help him.

He carried his drink over to his desk and started sorting through his
mail. Most of it went into the trash. He took a quick glance through
a few advertisements and tossed them as well. He stacked his bills in
one pile, turned on his computer and started paying them.

He paid his MasterCard, his electric bill and his phone bill. Next
was a notice from the Humane Society, one of the three charities that
he supported on a regular basis – the other two being The Veterans
Administration and the American Heart Association.

He slipped the letter opener under the flap and sliced it open. It
was an invitation to their annual fund raiser dinner to be held the
next Saturday. He got one every year. Normally he just sent a check
and didn't attend but now he was looking for things to do on the
weekends so he went on-line and RSVPed that he would attend.
Hopefully next weekend wouldn't be as deadly dull as this one!

He got stuck having to work the next Saturday but finally managed to
get away, get home and changed and left for the local Auditorium. He
had to park way out and walk in and got there just as the first
speaker took the floor. He grabbed a seat in the back and settled in.

Their plans for the coming year were gone over and they had a lot of
exciting new projects going on and several others got up and talked
about what was happening in their departments. It sounded like a
major over-haul was in the works and everyone was excited about their
new projects. They talked about the new addition to their building
that was underway, the new employees they were able to hire and the
increased number of animals they would now be able to care for.

The speeches wore on and he found himself having to stifle a yawn. He
wished they would get on with it so he could eat dinner and go home.
He fiddled with his water glass as they were about to announce their
last guest of honor.

"And now I'd like to present our latest and most generous patron who
is single handedly responsible for all our new projects being able to
get underway – Mr. Alex Krycek."

Skinner's head snapped around. Had he really heard that name? Was it
him? Could there possibly be someone else with the same name? He
craned his neck looking around those in front of him blocking his
vision and there he was – sitting on the dais smiling and giving a
small embarrassed wave to the crowd.

That concluded the speeches for the evening and the waiters started
bringing out the dinner. His plate was no sooner placed in front of
him when someone pulled out the empty chair beside him and asked,
"Mind if I sit here?"

He looked up into Krycek's smiling face.

"No! Uh huh. Sure … sit down." Skinner flustered.

"Thanks. I didn't think you were going to make it. I've been
watching the door and I saw you come in just before the speakers began."

"I got stuck having to work today. Wilson is on vacation and O'Conner
is out sick." He explained lamely. "You look amazing!" Skinner said
once he stopped staring.

"Thank you. I feel a lot better."

"You're the one who donated all that money?" Someone had just seated
himself across from them at the table. "That was incredibly generous
of you." He chatted away.

"Yes, thank you." Krycek answered and gave Skinner a look that said he
was sorry that their conversation had been interrupted.

The newcomer's phone jangled and he answered it quickly. "Excuse me
but I need to take this call. It's so nice to meet you Mr. Krycek."
He reached a hand across the table and Krycek took it and shook hands
with him. The man left to handle his call in private.

"So how are you? How is your wound? It must be Ok. You look great."

"Thank you. I'm fine and the wound is totally healed now. Just one
more scar on my body."

"You've put on some weight, that's good. You needed it."

"So how is everything at the Hoover?"

"Same as usual. Everyone is more interested right now in planning
summer vacations than getting any real work done."

"I can understand that. You should take a vacation, Walter. You
haven't taken one in years."

"Maybe I would if I could find something to do and someone to do it
with." A strange little thrill went through him at the sound of his
first name. He had never heard Alex use it before.

"You want to get out of here?" Alex asked. "I like all these people
a lot but their food sucks. I guess you spoiled me too much." He
grinned.

Skinner grabbed one more gulp of water, his mouth was incredibly dry
for some reason, then got up and the two of them walked outside.

"Over here." Alex said and headed towards a dark red SUV parked close
by in a reserved spot. He unlocked the doors and they got in. He
keyed the ignition, backed out of the parking space and drove away.

They talked about the SUV as they drove. It was the latest model,
fully loaded with all the gadgets. By the time Alex explained them
all he was pulling up to a security gate. The guard greeted him with
a two-fingered salute and a smile and opened the gate for them to
drive through.

Skinner watched out of the rear window as the guard secured the gate
behind them as Krycek drove on into the underground parking area.
They got out, Krycek locked it up, and they headed for the elevator.

"I thought you didn't like these high-risers." Skinner grinned as the
elevator doors closed. He had noticed the silver pickup parked near by.

"I don't. I'm on the second floor." The elevator stopped seconds
after it started and the door opened.

They walked out into a plush hallway and down to the double doors at
the end. Krycek unlocked them and they went in. Skinner was stunned!
"I see you like antiques."

"I do." Alex answered. "One of the places I used to sleep when I was
a kid was an antique store over on Birmingham. I used to walk around
it late at night when it was all closed up tight and sit on all the
furniture and lie down on all the beds. I always thought that one day
I'd come back and buy a bunch of it so that's what I did." He smiled
then added, "I'm just having trouble deciding if I prefer Italian or
French. The place is kind of a mish-mash of both."

"It's beautiful. Did you do this yourself?"

"Yes and no." Alex grinned, pleased that Skinner seemed impressed.
"Most of the pieces were put together in a show-room setting and I
bought them, accent pieces and all and then I added a few extras here
and there."

"Well the affect is dazzling." Skinner ran a finger tip along a
perfectly polished table top." I could never put together anything
like this."

"You like antiques?" Alex asked and waved Skinner to sit down on the
leather couch.

"I do. My wife never cared for them though. She considered them
'used furniture'."

"She's been gone a long time."

"She has. And I suppose I could get out and get some new furniture if
I was motivated. I bought the place furnished and it just never
seemed important enough to bother with. What I have is comfortable, I
guess."

"There's a lot to be said for comfort." Alex nodded.

"I suppose so. It's just not very exciting." Walter gave a little grin.

"You think all this is exciting?" Alex asked a little surprised.

"Definitely! It's bold, it's provocative. It makes a statement."

Alex just grinned and stared at him. He was really overwhelmed that
Walter had taken so to his apartment. Just then, his stomach growled
and he remembered that they hadn't eaten. "Oh, hell, I'm sorry. I
forgot. You haven't had dinner yet. We could go out – there a
several nice restaurants in the area or we could order in."

"What do you normally do? Do you cook yet?" Walter asked.

"Not anything like you. Mostly I microwave those little frozen dinners."

"There's nothing wrong with that. I eat those sometimes. They come
in handy when I'm really hungry and don't want to take the time to go
out. Why don't we just heat up a couple of those?"

"You serious? You fix me gourmet meals in a tent and you expect me to
serve you a meal out of a box in this fancy apartment?"

"Uh huh. Why not?"

"All right. If that's what you want. Come on into the kitchen and
pick out what you want."

They zapped their meals in the micro wave and sat at the kitchen table
eating and making small talk. Neither one could take his eyes off the
other. It was late when they finished and Walter asked Alex what he
was doing tomorrow.

"I work Sundays. The facility is closed but someone has to stay
around to look after the animals. Most everyone who works there has a
family so I volunteered. Instead, I take Monday's off."

"Good for you." Walter said as they settled themselves back into the
living room again. "So did you go straight to the Humane Society went
you left my place?"

"Oh no. I checked into a hotel. You filled my head with so many
possibilities that I had to think a few days to get them all sorted
out. First priority was to get myself a nice place to live. That
took about a week and I looked at about half a dozen places every day!"

"There are a million out there but none quite like this one." Skinner
commented.

"I do like this one. It was one of the few that were available at
this level. Apparently I'm not the only one who doesn't care for the
higher floors."

"It never has bothered me." Walter said. "I guess I just never paid
it much attention."

"Once I found this place, I knew this was the one. I started looking
at furniture and this is what I ended up with."

"I really like it."

"After I got in and got the place settled, I started thinking about
the volunteer work. The more I thought about it, the more I knew
that's what I wanted to do. The first place I went was to the
Veteran's Administration. They did a background check on me and sent
me on over to the VA hospital."

"They cleared you?" Walter was surprised.

"They did. After I did some preliminary work, that is."

"I see. So how did it go at the hospital?"

"Not well. I helped out where I could and did some counseling with
amputees but there was no connection there. They wanted to know how I
lost my arm. I lied and told them it was in an accident." He saw the
look on Walter's face as his eyes dropped and a look of disappointment
came over him. He knew Walter was thinking that he was slipping back
into his old ways of finagling and lying again.

"I just couldn't connect with them, Walter. These men, most of them,
lost their limbs in battle. They were polite enough all right, but
they just didn't seem to even want to open up with me."

"So you just left?"

"I stayed for two months. I really wanted it to work. It didn't. I
came home more depressed than ever. Then I saw an advertisement for
the Humane Society and went over there."

"And the rest, as they say, is history." Walter finished for him.

"Exactly. I had no idea what to expect. I had never had a pet before
but they give you this little course and the next thing you know,
you're into it up to your neck."

"I imagine they started you out cleaning cages?"

"They did! How did you know that?"

"I did a little volunteer work there myself, years ago. I really
should do more. I liked it a lot."

"The first time I was actually in with the animals, I was scared to
death. I just stood there frozen. I was supposed to go into this
mixed group of dogs, put a leash on one, and take it for a walk. I
had no idea what to do. Then this one old dog came up to me and kind
of leaned against me. I looked down at him and I swear to God,
Walter, that dog smiled at me! I hooked the leash on and took him
outside."

"Oh I believe you. Dogs can smile; most of them. I've seen it."

"Man, I had no idea! It really blew me away. He knew right where to
go too when we got outside. He walked straight back to the enclosure.
It was just great!"

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

"I really am. More so than I ever imagined! I'm even pretty good
with the cats. Those damn ferrets bite though."

Walter laughed. "I've never had to deal with any ferrets but I've
heard they can be pretty mean sometimes."

"Well the two we have are. And it's not just me. They've got a sign
up on their cage not to touch them because they bite. I'm torn
between wanting them to get adopted out and worrying for whoever
eventually does take them."

"I'm sure they will find someone who knows how to handle them. They
seem to be a pretty popular pet."

"I know and I don't understand why. I mean they are cute and all but
they seem to be really bad tempered."

"Are they male or female?"

"Both males, I think."

"Well there you go. Maybe they're cross because they are in need of a
female?"

"I guess that's possible. They have someone coming in from the
college next week to have a look at them. Hopefully they'll know what
to do with them." Alex stifled a yawn and Walter caught it.

"Look, it's late and you have to work tomorrow." He stood to leave
and Alex followed.

"I'm so glad you came to the dinner." Alex said as they walked to the
elevator.

"Me too. I had no idea I'd be seeing you there. I just went to give
me something to do. Weekends are so deadly dull and boring."

They emerged into the parking area and Alex clicked the doors to his
SUV and unlocked them and they climbed in.

"You said you have to work tomorrow but what about dinner? They have
to give you time off for dinner, don't they?" Skinner asked.

"I get off at five." Alex smiled as he drove.

"Have dinner with me then. There's this new little jazz club that
just opened a few months ago that I've wanted to try out. Do you like
jazz?"

"Yeah ... yeah I do." They were at a stop light and Alex stared at him.

"What?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Uh huh. You Ok with that?"

The light changed and the car behind them honked. Alex turned his
attention back to his driving. "I guess so."

"You guess so; you'll go to dinner with me? Or you guess so; it's Ok
for me to ask?"

"It's not like it's actually a date. I mean, we both have to eat;
right?" Alex was flustered as he pulled into the deserted parking
area next to Skinner's car.

"Oh it's a date." Walter grinned as he got out of the car, closed the
door and walked around to the driver's side. "I'll pick you up
tomorrow at seven."

Alex swallowed hard and shook his head. "Seven. I'll be ready."






























CHAPTER EIGHT

Skinner held up two pairs of pants, jeans and slacks, and tried to
decide which to wear. He didn't want to seem too casual, on the other
hand, he didn't want to appear that the evening meant nothing to him
either. He decided on the slacks. He chose an appropriate shirt and
jacket and stood looking at himself in the mirror. Not too bad, he
thought, for an old guy. He shoved that thought away. He certainly
didn't feel like an old guy. Not tonight. He splashed on a little
cologne and hurried downstairs to the parking garage to find all four
tires on his car flattened.

"SHIT!"

xxx

Krycek shaved for the second time when he found a wayward whisker that
he had missed. Not that he'd need to worry about something like that.
After all, it was just dinner with Skinner. It's not like it was a
real date or anything. Just the same he felt his face carefully and
made sure there were no offending whiskers remaining. He brushed his
teeth and inspected them closely in the mirror and made a mental note
that he needed to get to a dentist and have them cleaned again.

He stood in his closet with his jeans in hand and debated. No, he's
so used to seeing me in these black jeans; I'll surprise him. He
pulled out one of his new pairs of slacks, still had the tags on, and
tried them on. Yes. They'll do just fine. He pulled the tags off
and tossed them then donned the new shirt the salesman assured him
went perfectly with the slacks. He took his new shoes out of the box
and tried them on. They felt good, comfortable, and they looked Ok.
No where to hide a knife though. He grinned at the thought. He still
felt a little naked going out of the house without his gun and knife
but had made the decision that if he was going to change his life,
he'd have to start by leaving certain habits behind.

He tried on the matching jacket and turned around to look at himself
in the mirror. He cut the tag off the sleeve and looked again,
deciding it was going to have to do. He wished it was colder so he
could wear gloves to hide his plastic hand but it wasn't like Skinner
hadn't seen it all before. He shook his head in wonder, remembering
how Skinner had bathed him back in that tent. Skinner really had seen
him all!

The ringing phone brought him out of his reverie. Damn! "Skinner,
you'd better not be canceling on me!" He glanced at the caller ID and
saw it was the Humane Society.

"Yes?" He answered.

"Alex! Thank God, I got you! You've got to come down here right
away! That black cat is acting real funny. I think she's about ready
to have those kittens."

"Did you call the vet?"

"I did. He's not in. I called both of them and couldn't get either
one. What should I do?"

"Just calm down now; she should be able to handle it by herself."

"What if something goes wrong though? I'd be responsible! Oh, Alex,
PLEASE! You've got to come down. I don't know anything about this!
I was just supposed to keep an eye on things, not help deliver kittens!"

Alex looked at his watch, 6:35. "Look, I can't come right now. Can't
you get on the internet or something? Look up cats giving birth.
There's probably nothing you're supposed to do anyway."

xxx

"I'm sorry, Mr. Skinner, but we've been having a lot of trouble with
vandals lately. I'll report it again but the best I can suggest for
right now is that you report it to your insurance company tomorrow
morning." The man from building security told him.

Skinner cooled his heels while he waited for his rental car to be
delivered. 6:45 – he was never going to make it in time. He arrived
at 7:05 and Alex was gone.

xxx

"Oh God, I'm so glad you're here! Hurry, something's wrong. It looks
like her insides are coming out or something."

"Are you sure it's not just a kitten?" Alex asked as they hurried
into the back room where the pregnant cat was kept.

"It doesn't look like fur to me, it looks like, I don't know,
intestines or something. See – it's sticking out? It goes back in
and then comes out again." He squatted down beside the black cat and
pointed to her behind.

"Shit." Alex said. "Did you try the vet again?"

"I did! Both of them! They must have their phones turned off because
neither of them is answering. What do you think we should do?"

"First of all, don't panic. Calm down! She doesn't appear to be
distressed. Let's just give her some time and see what happens."
Alex knelt down beside the box and was startled by his phone ringing.
He fished it out of his jacket pocket and answered, "Yes?"

"Hey, did you forget about dinner?"

"Oh no! I didn't forget. We've got an emergency situation here at
the Humane Society. We've got a cat trying to deliver kittens and
she's pretty messed up. We tried calling the vets and can't get a
hold of either of them. I don't suppose you know anything about cats
giving birth?"

"Sure I do. We always had cats and dogs around the farm. What's the
problem?"

"I don't know. It looks like something is sticking out of her back
side but it doesn't look like a kitten."

"Ok. I'm not all that far away. I'll be there shortly."

"Thank God!" Alex snapped his phone shut and told Carl, his co
worker, that help was on the way.

They were both standing at the back door when Walter pulled up. "In
here, quick!"

Just as all three of them knelt down by the box again the cat gave one
last grunt and the tiny, membrane covered, kitten popped out. The
mother started washing it immediately.

"Oh it is a kitten!" Carl said happily.

"There's nothing really that you need to do. She can pretty much take
care of things. It'll probably take a while yet. I can still feel at
least three or four more." Walter said as he petted the cat and felt
her stomach.

"She's eating all that gunk." Alex said. "Is that Ok?"

"Sure it is. It's nature's way. There's probably something in it
that she needs right now. She looks like she's doing fine."


They watched another two hours while the black cat delivered five more
kittens. Somewhere between kitten number three and kitten number
four, Carl had slipped out and came back with foot-long chili dogs and
cokes from Sonic.
Once they were sure the birthing was finished and they determined that
momma cat and kittens were all doing well, they changed the bedding in
the box and Alex and Walter left.

"That's not exactly the evening that I had planned." Walter said with
a grin as they stood beside their cars in the parking lot.

"I'm sorry about that. But Carl was in such a panic and once I got
here, so was I. I've never seen anything like that – I didn't know
what to expect." Alex apologized.

"It's all right. I enjoyed the evening – even the chili dogs."

Alex laughed. "You probably won't be thinking that about mid-night
when they come back to haunt you!"

"This is true!" Walter chuckled. "It did give me an idea though.
Next week end, Sunday for sure, you and I are going to dinner. That's
a promise – so plan on it!" He unlocked his car and got in, lowered
the window. "No emergencies allowed next Sunday!"

"I'll mark that down on my calendar. No emergencies allowed next
Sunday." Alex grinned.

"Good! I'll see you then – seven o'clock, Sunday."

"Yeah, I'll be ready and thanks again."

Skinner grinned and drove off – formulating the plan in his head for
the next weekend. It was going to take some doing but he had a week
to do it.

xxx

Skinner shopped every night after work that week and didn't finish
until Saturday afternoon. One more day to wait! He got up early
Sunday morning, had breakfast and spent an hour at the gym. He filled
the day with busy work while the hours slowly passed by. By six
thirty he could stand it no longer and pulled out his cell and called
Alex.

"Yes?" Alex answered the phone.

"You don't have any pending emergencies do you?"

"Nope. I put Carl on warning that I would not be available tonight
under any circumstances."

"Good. I'll see you in thirty minutes then."

"I'll be waiting."

He drove slowly through the security gates at 6:57. Parked, got his
parcel from the passenger seat and carried it towards the elevator.
Just as he stepped out of the elevator Alex's door opened and he
stepped out into the hallway.

"Hi." Walter greeted him.

"Hi yourself," Alex said.

Walter handed him the box and said, "This is for later. It's dessert."

"Oh. Ok." He turned and unlocked his door and they took it inside.

"It really should be put in the refrigerator if you have room."

"Sure. It's practically empty." Alex said and took the box and put
it inside the refrigerator.

"Ready for dinner?" Walter asked.

"Definitely!" Alex answered and the two of them left in Walter's car.

xxx

"That was amazing." Alex said as they left the posh restaurant. "I
didn't expect anything like that."

"That was the best steak I've had in years. We're going to have to
come back here again soon." Walter agreed as they climbed back into
the car.

"At those prices you wouldn't want to make a place like this a habit."

"A habit, no – but a place to come for special occasions; definitely!"
Walter agreed as they drove.

In moments they were back in Alex's parking garage. They got out of
the car and Alex started walking towards the elevator.

"Can you give me a hand here?" Walter called to him as he opened the
back door to his car and pulled out some large plastic bags.

"Huh? Oh sure." Alex walked back to the car and took two of the
large bags while Walter managed to carry four. "What's all this stuff?"

"For your party." Walter said as they entered the elevator.

"My what?"

"Your birthday party. Today's June 22. It's your birthday – did you
forget?"

"My … how did you know that?"

"I checked." Walter said as the doors opened. They carried the stuff
down the hall and into Alex's apartment.

Once inside Walter dug around in one of the bags and pulled out two
bottles of Champagne. "Can you see about getting these on ice? I
need to go back out and get the rest."

"The rest?"

"Uh huh. Here." He handed Alex's the bottles and headed back down to
his car. He was back in a few minutes carrying two huge packages and
another large plastic bag.

"What is all this?" Alex asked again.

Walter started pulling things out and placing them on the table.
"Presents. You're thirty eight today and I've missed every one of
your birthdays so now I'm making up for it with thirty eight
presents." He grinned at the shocked expression on Alex's face.

"Presents? Thirty eight presents? For me?" He was speechless.

"That's right. But you can't open them yet. There's an order to
these parties."

"I wouldn't know." Alex shook his head in wonder.

"I didn't think so. First of all we have to decorate." Walter said
and pulled out a package, tore it open and unfolded a 'Happy Birthday'
banner. He took it over and hung it from the mantle, setting candle
sticks on each end to hold it.

"Here you can start with these." He tossed Alex a bag of balloons.
"There's fifty in there. They've got to all be blown up."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. Every Birthday party has balloons and they have to all be
blown up before you get to open your presents." By then there was a
mound of gaily decorated packages piled up and Walter was bringing out
crepe paper streamers and draping them around wherever he could.
"Start blowing. I'll help in a minute."

Alex gazed in disbelief as Walter decorated the room then sat down and
started blowing up the balloons. Walter joined him and after a while
the room was filled with balloons of every color bouncing around.

"Now what?" Alex asked anxiously eyeing the pile of gifts.

"The cake. You get it and I'll find the candles." Walter got up and
started digging through the bags again.

Alex hurried into the kitchen and brought the box out of the
refrigerator and set it on the table.

"Let's get it out of the box." Walter said as he un-wrapped the two
big candles that he had bought. Once the box was disposed of he
placed the two candles side by side – a three and an eight. "Got a
match?"

"Uh … by the fireplace." He went over and got a match and brought it
back.

Walter struck it and lit the candles while he explained to Alex.
"First you've got to be brave and listen to me sing and you're not
supposed to laugh. Once I'm through singing, you've got to make a
Birthday wish, then you blow out the candles. Got it?"

"I think I can handle that." Alex said with an amused grin.

"Ok here goes. Now if you laugh, you don't get your wish." He warned
then started singing – "Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you,
Happy birthday dear Alex, Happy Birthday to you. You were very
strong; I didn't hear a chuckle. You make your wish now and blow."

Alex closed his eyes for a moment then opened them and blew. Both
candles went out immediately.

"Yeah! You did it. You should get your wish! Now you can start
opening your presents but you have to open this one first." Walter
shoved a smallish package towards him.

Alex sat and held the package for a time just staring at it. "I've
never had a present before. I can't believe you did all this."

"I did it because I wanted to. Go ahead. Open it."

Alex carefully undid the package and his eyes lit up as he pulled out
a state of the art, digital camera.

"A digital camera!" He took it out of the package and examined it.

"That's why I wanted you to open it first. Now I can take pictures of
you opening the rest of your gifts." Walter took it from him and got
it ready to shoot. "I have one similar but mine's a few years older."
He held it up and took a photo of Alex's startled face.

"Go on. You've got lots of gifts to open before you can have any
champagne and cake."

"I don't know what to say." Alex fumbled for words.

"You don't need to say anything. This is your party; you can say and
do anything you want." Walter smiled at him and snapped another photo.

Box after box was opened and he pulled out; silk shirts, books, a
robe, CDs, DVDs, a watch, a gold pen and pencil set, a cashmere
sweater, an electric razor, and marveled at them all. On and on he
opened them up until he was all finished but the two large packages on
the floor. He picked the smaller one up first and opened it. It was
a combination radio and CD player. Then the largest and last package
he opened to find a five piece luggage set, each one nested inside the
other. When he finished he was exhausted and in a state of shock.

Walter took one last photo of him sitting there staring at his pile of
presents then said, "I think it's time for some of that champagne.
What do you think?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, sure. I stuck them in the ice cube compartment. It
should be cold enough." Alex said and got up and went into the kitchen.

Walter unwrapped the two champagne glasses he had bought and sat them
on the table along with some paper plates and plastic forks.

"You even brought glasses?" Alex said as he took the two water
glasses back into the kitchen. "You've given a lot of parties?" .

"No but I helped my mother put on a lot of these things for us kids.
She always loved doing it. I guess it rubbed off on me."

Alex popped the cork and poured them each a glass. "Do we cut the
cake now?"

"Nooooo. Just a quick drink then you've got to burst all these balloons."

"What?"

"That's right! We've got to burst all these balloons by stomping on
them. Whoever bursts the most balloons gets the first piece of cake!"
Walter said and stomped on one.
It burst with a loud bang and the competition was on. They sipped
their drink as they hurried around the room stomping on the balloons
as they skittered out of their way, each one counting and shouting out
their number as yet another balloon popped underfoot.

Alex stomped the last two as Walter snapped his photo – his face was
red from exertion and he was breathless with excitement. Walter
stared for a long time at the photo in the small viewing screen until
Alex came over to see what he was looking at.

"I get the first piece of cake?"

"Yes you do. Go ahead." Walter put the camera down and joined him.

"How do I cut it?" Alex asked standing over the beautifully decorated
cake.

"Any way you want to. But I get the piece that has your name on it."

Alex smiled and started a really bad job of carving up the cake,
laughing and licking his fingers all the way. Walter held out two
plates and they sat down and ate.

"Darn, I knew I'd forgotten something! I forgot ice cream!" Walter
sighed.

"Don't worry about it. This is perfect – absolutely perfect!" Alex
said as he poured them each another glass of champagne.

"I've never had champagne and cake at the same time before. They
don't really go together very well, do they?" Walter said.

"I think it's wonderful! This whole evening has been wonderful. I
don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. It's been fun for me too. I loved every
minute of it! Just don't be offended that I have to leave early. I
have meetings scheduled first thing in the morning." Walter stood and
carried his half eaten cake over to the table. "I'll help you clean up."

"No. I can do that. After all the trouble and expense you went
through to give me this party, the least I can do is clean up." Alex
joined him at the table. "More champagne?"

"No, I'd better not. The last thing I need is to be pulled over for a
DUI."

Walter made his way to the door with Alex following.

"I never had any idea that Birthdays could be so much fun." Alex
smiled at him.

"Happy Birthday, Alex." Walter said and leaned over and kissed him
lightly in the lips.

Alex gulped, "Are you sure you have to go? I mean, it's not all that
late."

"I really should." Walter leaned over and kissed him again and
lingered a little longer this time.

"If you go, I won't get my birthday wish."

"What was it?"

"That you would spend the night." Alex answered hopefully.

A warmth washed over Skinner and settled in his groin. "Are you sure
that's what you want?"

"Yes I am. And it's my birthday and you said I could do anything I
wanted to." Alex pleaded.

"I've never been anyone's birthday wish before." Walter grinned at him.

"Well, you are mine. Will you stay?" Alex reached up and kissed him.

"How could I refuse?" Walter took him in his arms then and kissed him
deeply.

xxx

Moments later they were in bed and Walter was apologizing. "Oh shit,
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come so fast."

Alex wiped the corner of his mouth and grinned at him. "I'll just
take it as I'm that good!"

"You are! But still, I should have been able to hold out a little
longer. I've been planning this but not for a few more weeks yet. I
thought we'd go out some more, get used to spending time together. I
figured I'd wine you and dine you …"

Alex chuckled, "What you didn't figure on was my birthday wish."

"I didn't."

"Well the wish was for you to spend the night. We've got plenty of time."

"Oh, that we do!" Walter held him close then, running his hands over
the bare skin, lingering here and there on his favorite parts. He
made a mental note to himself that he'd gone all night without sleep
before – he could do it again!

It was dawn when he made the phone call into his office to tell them
that something had come up and he had to cancel his appointments for
the day.

"Something came up all right," Alex snickered, "Over and over again!
Once you get started you're like that Energizer bunny – you keep going
and going and going."

"I can't help it. You just do it for me." Walter buried his face in
Alex's shoulder and nibbled on the side of his neck. "And you taste
so good … all over!"

"Shit, I'm going to be walking bowlegged for a week!" Alex laughed.

"I only gave you what you asked for!" Walter defended himself.

"Mmmmmm – I know! And each time was better than the last."

"What's that?" Walter rolled over on his back and listened.

"What? Oh that music?"

"Yeah. Where's that coming from?"

"I don't know – next apartment maybe. It sounds like a music box."

"It does kind of but I've never heard anything that beautiful … ALEX!
That's it!"

"What? What's it?" Alex leaned up on his elbows as Walter was now
sitting straight up.

"It's the signal – the signal from Saint Peter!"

"Oh the Saint Peter thing again. You really believe in that stuff? I
mean … signals and all?"

"I never would have before but I do now. And you heard it too, didn't
you?"

"The music? Yeah, I heard it but that doesn't prove that it came from
Saint Peter."

"It doesn't have to. I know I've learned my lesson now. I've truly
forgiven you. And you – do you trust me?"

"Well sure I trust you!"

"Then we've both learned our lessons! That's why we both heard the
music!"

Alex chuckled. "So now what does that mean? Are we going to die now
and go to Heaven?"

"No, it means that when our time does come, that's where we'll go if
we don't screw up any more." Walter lay back down and held Alex close
in his arms.

"I don't know about you, Walter, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm
already in Heaven!"

Walter closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of Alex's
head. He drifted off to sleep listening to the tinkling music – the
most beautiful music he had ever heard.


THE END