Title: February Fourteenth (1/1)
Author: Josan
Date: February, 2001
Summary: It's St. Valentine's Day. 'Nuff said.
Pairing: Skinner Krycek
Rating: I'm writing PG. What your imagination does with it has nothing to do with me.
Archive: You know who you are. If you're not sure, ask.
Comments: jmann@spam.mondenet.com
DISCLAIMER: These may be the property of CC, Fox and 1013, but, in our hearts, they belong to us.
EXPLANATION: The Theban Band had just posted some new Sk/K pix and I went to look at them. Sigh. Then Ursula said that they should inspire some new fic. And she was right. Read this story then go look at them: you won't have any trouble figuring out which one is responsible for this story.
DEDICATION: For Ned and leny, who are inspirations in their own right. Thank you, mesdames.

Alex didn't wake as Walter eased himself out of bed.

He stood for a moment by the bedside, looking at his lover who was sleeping on his stomach, head tucked under his pillow.

Walter took this as a sign that Alex felt not only loved but secure enough to leave his back unprotected. It made him smile.

Careful not to make a sound, he grabbed his white terry robe, tiptoed out of the bedroom. He waited until he was downstairs and used that bathroom to empty his bladder and then take a quick shower.

St. Valentine's Day today, and he was going to prepare something a little special for his lover.

Not that Alex expected anything particularly special for the day. Once, he had told Walter, the mere fact that Walter loved him made every day special for him.

Still, thought Walter as he rebelted his robe, padded into the kitchen, it was St. Valentine's Day and something special was called for.

Not that he had all that much time. It was Wednesday and there were the usual Wednesday meetings he had to deal with. Just a little something that didn't take much time but would show Alex how much he loved him.

Out of the pantry cupboard, he took the large tray he had inherited when his Grand-Aunt Libby had decided to weed out the accumulation of goods she had gathered in her 85 years. Onto that he added a rectangular lace doily tatted by the same Grand-Aunt.

He opened the small bottle of champagne, poured it into a glass pitcher filled with ice and added an equal amount of orange juice. Placed that on the tray. Added two champagne flutes, cutlery, some of the good china Sharon had insisted he keep since it had come from his side of the family.

While the coffee dripped, he stirred the oatmeal, adding raisins and pecans to it as it readied. The coffee went into a thermal carafe, the oatmeal into a covered bowl. Both went onto the tray. Walter added a small jug filled with cream, a bowl of brown sugar.

He looked at the tray and examined its contents, mentally running through a check list. He added a couple of linen napkins. Then, he picked up the tray and headed upstairs.

He was half-way up when he heard the shower come on. Alex was up.

Walter set the tray down on his bureau and opened the door to his side of the closet.

Alex was towelling his hair when he came out of the steam-filled bathroom, wearing nothing but a sleepy smile. "I didn't hear you get up," he said.

Walter grinned. "Didn't want you to."

From behind his back he pulled a dark, almost black, emerald green terry bathrobe. "Much as I love the view, Alex, it's still winter. I don't want you catching cold." And he draped the heavy robe around Alex's shoulders.

Alex reacted with the delighted uncertainty he always showed when Walter did something unexpected. He was still new to gifts, to special treats that showed someone had put considerable thought into something just for him.

His hand stroked the material in that sensuous way that made Walter's skin hunger for his touch. "It's..." Alex took a breath, tried again. "It's beautiful, Walter." His eyes shone suspiciously bright in the early morning light. "Thank you."

"Makes your eyes darker," said Walter, grinning like an idiot at the sight of his lover's beautiful naked body framed by the green.

His comment, plus the way he was looking at Alex, brought a flush to his lover's face.

"What's this in occasion of?" Alex's voice had grown husky all of a sudden as he slipped his arm and stump into the sleeves. That's when he noticed that the robe had no belt. Instead it had a couple of large wooden buttons that fit easily through the decorative frogs. He felt incredibly moved by Walter's consideration, wondered what to say.

Walter knew Alex was having trouble putting his feelings into words but the expression on his face was worth all the time he had spent on the phone explaining to his tailor the modifications he had wanted done to the robe.

"Just the beginning of a special day." Walter turned back the bedclothes, indicated that Alex was to get back into bed. When he had, Walter piled the pillows behind him, covered his legs with the bedclothes. With care not to spill anything, he placed the tray on the bed, gingerly settled himself next to it.

"Valentine's Day." Alex had figured it out.

"Not only beautiful," grinned Walter, handing Alex a napkin, pouring the mimosa into the flutes, "but intelligent as well." He handed Alex a glass. "However did I get so lucky?" And he clicked the rim of his glass against his lover's.

Embarrassed, Alex returned the salute with his glass. "Must be living right."

Walter laughed at the teasing tone. That too was a fairly new development; Alex being able to tease and to accept teasing. "Must be," he agreed.

Walter filled a bowl with the oatmeal, added four heaping spoonfuls of brown sugar, poured some cream and passed it on to Alex who balanced it on his lap. For his own, he only added a spoonful of sugar. Alex had not been overly fond of oatmeal at first, until Walter had prepared it for him the way his grandmother had convinced him oatmeal was the perfect food.

"Isn't it Wednesday today?" Alex was carefully scooping up the soupy oatmeal, making certain that nothing dropped on his new robe. "Don't you have an early budget meeting?"

"Yes, it is Wednesday. Yes, I do have an early budget meeting. And yes, if I'm late for it, they'll either start without me or wait for me to arrive. You're not delaying me, Alex."

Alex looked through his eyelashes at his lover who was sitting in the glow of the crisp yellow of a winter's sunrise. "So," he pitched his voice to that certain tone he knew affected Walter's cock, "how late can you be?"

"Not that late. Can you hold that thought until I get home tonight?"

Alex pulled his lower lip into his mouth, kept it in place with his teeth, a look he knew Walter also liked, and pretended to think about that. "I suppose so," he offered, then looked up, eyes twinkling. "If you really want to wait that long."

Walter groaned dramatically. "If I get back into that bed with you, Alex, I won't make any meeting today."

Alex laughed. "Well, think about what you'd like me to do to you tonight while you're at these meetings of yours."

Walter's groan was heartfelt this time. "Thanks. How the hell am I suppose to concentrate on what they're saying after this?"

Alex shrugged, tried, without much success, to look innocent.

"How about I give you something to think about today?" Walter's grin edged evil.

He leaned over and brushed his lips over his lover's mouth, back and forth, barely stroking, taking his turn teasing.

Alex's eyelids grew heavier, dropped so that his eyes were half-hidden.

Walter moved the breath necessary to take Alex's mouth. Alex's lips parted, inviting Walter in to play.

Alex tasted of orange juice, brown sugar with a hint of champagne. It intoxicated Walter.

With an eye out for the whereabouts of the tray, Walter pressed Alex deeper into the pillows, using his mouth in just the way he knew aroused his lover.

The clock radio came on, the news on the hour blasting away.

Reluctantly, the two lovers separated.

"Can you hold that thought until tonight?" whispered Walter.

"You're not going to be late. Are you?" Alex's tongue licked the flavour of his lover from his lips.

Walter was mesmerized by the pink that stroked over the darker colour of Alex's lips. He took a deep breath. "No way. I'll see if Kim can rearrange my afternoon schedule."

Alex leaned back into the pillows, turned on sultry to its highest level. "If?"

Walter flushed, reached for his cell phone. He punched a button, waited for the beep. "Kim. This morning's meeting. Tell them to start without me, will you? I'm going to be late. In fact, I may be very late for everything. Why don't you just clear my schedule for the day and go home early. Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day, Kim."