27 Nov 98
"Golf and Cows"
by Sonja Blue firstname.lastname@example.org
Introduction: This is a dribble, a drabble... I don't know. I actually just dreamed this, thought I would type it out and send it off before it faded away like all my dreams do. So it has not been any where near a beta reader... not sure if something so short warrants a beta reader. Maybe someone would like to let me know the protocol for such things. I would certainly like to know what people think of it. I have given the story a PG. rating, but I did not realise until I was half way thorough writing it that it is a metaphor for something kind of more steamy. Or maybe I just have a dirty mind.
I am currently working on something a lot more longer, a Mulder/Krycek story... but don't hold your breath, I am a very slow writer.
Disclaimers: Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner do not belong to me, they belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen, and 20th Century Fox.
Archive: yes, but be warned... it has not been beta'd
Summary: Walter Skinner plays some golf and his favourite caddy assists.
Ratings : PG.. uh.. i guess. UST between Mulder/Skinner, this is a Mulder POV
"Golf and Cows"
I was there for my Skinner when he played competition golf. Even before he would tee off I would check the grass around the hole for him and check the hole as well, making sure there would be no obstacles in the way of the ball.
Once that was done I would slip back into the eagerly awaiting crowd that was waiting for Walter Skinner to make his shot, stopping by him first we would put our heads together and mutter to each other about the upcoming shot. I would then depart into the crowd. The crowd and I waited for him to swing the club and send the ball towards the hole.
His muscles strained beneath his shirt as he moved his arms and shoulders down in a graceful curve that ended with the club giving the ball a solid whack. The crowd and I watched the ball as it sailed thorough the air and then land on the soft grass about a meter and a half away from the hole. The crowd let out a breath all at once.
Suddenly out of seeming nowhere a cow approached the hole, ignoring the on watching crowd the cow meandered past the hole dislodging the ball from its prime spot as it went by the hole. There seemed to be a 'What now?' feeling generating from the crowd. So I approached the ball and picked it up and went to place it back to its previous spot. As I was placing the ball on the tiny patch of dirt that was exposed when the ball landed, I felt the ground rumble beneath my feet. The crowd had seemed to move back more away from the hole with an aura of apprehension surrounding them.
Bent over the grass with my fingers clasping the ball to the ground I held my self still as the rumble increased in volume. Emerging from the same place that the cow had come from were stampeding cattle and they were heading straight for me and the ball I was clutching against the vibrating earth. This time I was determined that the ball would not be dislodged, so I braced myself above the ball in the same bent over position I had began in.
Sweat rolled down my face as the first and then the second cow came rushing by me, almost touching me as they trotted past. A minute seemed to stretch to hours as then the whole earth seem to be heaving around me as the entire stampede of cattle brushed past me and the ball that I held firmly to the earth.
They were gone, the cattle had passed and I was still there holding that ball and everything was quiet. I unclenched my cramped fingers from the ball and straightened my back, feeling bones and muscle pop and strain. I then heard a breath of air expelled from the crowd all at once as they realized that I was all right. Calmly I walked back towards Walter and bent my head towards his and gave him a few more words of encouragement and reassuring him that I was all right, his brown eyes had such a look of concern in them. I then slipped back into the crowd and we all waited breathlessly for Walter Skinner to make his finale shot.
He hovered over the ball and lined up the head of the club with the ball. With a subtle ripple of his broad shoulders he sent the ball towards the hole with a soft, firm tap. And with a roll and a rattle the ball was in the hole. The crowd erupted with cheers and clapping and I was pleased.