by Jennie

by Jennie

For years and years I truly considered that falling madly in love with Walter Skinner was the ultimate practical joke - in a fucking series of practical jokes - played upon me my Fate. I mean, that particular piece of folly was number one on the list of 'idiotic, stupid, and life-threatening things Alex Krycek has done in his lifetime.'

Don't even try to tell me that you don't have such a list. Everyone has one.

Don't they?

I'm not exactly sure when it happened. It just kinda crept up on me, I guess. One morning I woke up, having had a wet dream of mythic proportions, and I knew.

To say I was dismayed by this must be one of the most astonishing understatements of the modern era. Somewhat akin to saying that the Hiroshima bomb went 'bang.'

After I'd followed him - with great stealth and in absolute secrecy - for quite a long time (like, oh, six years!), I was more than a little surprised to turn around one evening and find that he'd followed me. To my favorite bar.

My favorite gay bar, that is.

He sat down right on the barstool next to mine, ordered a drink for himself and another for me, and talked.


To. Me.

To this day, I have no clear recollection of what we talked about. I must have made at least a little bit of sense. Don't recall him falling off of his barstool laughing at me, at any rate.

I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that.

What I do remember are the more physical impressions of that night. His easy tone. The way his knee pressed against mine. The scent of his aftershave.

The way he smiled at me.

I'd have probably been content with that. Hell, it was far more than I'd ever dared hope for. So, when he stood and announced his attention to head on home I nodded and smiled.

"I had... a good time tonight, Skinner. Thanks."

With a mildly reproving frown that sent my every nerve tingling, he shook his head and said, "The night is far from over."

"Huh?" I responded brilliantly.

"C'mon," he said in a scarily non-threatening way. "Let's go. Oh, and Alex? My name is Walt."

"Where are we going, W-walt?"

"My place," he answered in a suggestive voice.

Which was... whoa!

I licked my lips and couldn't help shaking my head at the sheer impossibility of this entire night. I had no memory of taking any mind-altering drugs. Maybe, I thought, I was asleep and dreaming. Really, though? The most probable explanation was that I'd finally cracked, had been institutionalized, and was lost in a fantasy world of my own making.

"No. You are not dreaming. You haven't lost your mind. Neither are you drugged."

After laughing at my expression of disbelief, he kindly informed me that I'd said all of the above out loud.

Have I mentioned that Walter can be a bit of a smartass on occasion?

As it turned out, he was mostly right. I wasn't dreaming - although my fondest dream did come true that night. I wasn't crazy - well, not so much as to have been hallucinating the whole thing. High, though... well, suffice it to say that I was pretty much in orbit when he started touching me. Tasting me. Talking to me in the most incredibly throaty voice I'd ever heard.

That tone is my most vibrant memory of our first time. And, don't I sound like a teenaged girl? 'First time'! But, that's okay. In this case, it's okay. Because even now, years later, I can feel my body vibrating in tune with that rumbly, bassy voice whispering through me.

I don't recall every word he uttered, (I'm not that girly) a few select phrases do remain clear in my mind's ear.

Such as, "I don't fucking care about that shit. One arm, two arms, whatever. I want you, Alex. All of you."

Or, "You're a beautiful man, Alex."

And, my personal favorite, "I love you too, Alex."

It was perfect. We were perfect.

Of course, things aren't always perfect. We've had our squabbles. Spirited arguments. Knockdown, drag out fights.

Walter can occasionally be a little stubborn, too.

It's been ten years today. Despite the normal obstacles of everyday life that every couple face, here we are. We co-own a house in rural... um, never mind where, the important thing is, we 'retired' together, we bought a place together, and, we're together.

This is not what I expected from life. To tell the truth, what Walt and I have is so far beyond anything I ever allowed myself to consciously hope for that, well, the just word doesn't exist to describe the amazement I feel when I think about it.

I love.

I am loved.

I am - we are - happy.

Life is good.

Which is the very last thing I ever thought I'd say.


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