- Deslea's URL is now http://www.deslea.com or http://fiction.deslea.com.  
- Email address is now deslea@deslea.com.
- May be archived by Scully/Skinner specialty archives only.

This information supercedes all other information found in this file.

Someone I Trusted III:  Always *NC17* 1/1   
Deslea R. Judd   
Copyright 1998   
This work is based on The X Files, a creation of Chris Carter    
owned by him, Twentieth Century Fox, and Ten-Thirteen    
Productions. Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Kim Cooke, and Sharon   
Skinner remain the intellectual property of those parties and are   
used without their consent and without commercial gain.    
Susannah Skinner is my creation and may not be used elsewhere   
without my consent.   
Spoilers: One Breath, Blessing Way, Paper Clip, Piper Maru,   
Apocrypha, Avatar.   
Category:  Vignette,  Romance (Skinner/Scully).    
Rating:  NC17 for sex.   
Summary:  Sequel to Someone I Trusted I and II (The SSR File).    
You don't need to have read the first two to appreciate this, but   
it's recommended.   
Fan mail is always appreciated!!!  My e-mail is   
drjudd@primus.com.au.  Archivists, feel free to add this to your   
collections; but be sure to let me know.  This and my other   
stories may be found at http://home.primus.com.au/drjudd   
(shameless plug).   
Someone I Trusted (The Blessing Way), in which Scully pulls a   
gun on Skinner...and surprises him   
Someone I Trusted II: The SSR File, in which Scully and   
Skinner discuss their coupling and try again  
Someone I Trusted III:  Always *NC17* 1/1   
Deslea R. Judd   
Copyright 1998  
	//"If I may say so, Sir, it has everything to do with   
interest.  Just not yours, and not mine."//   
	Skinner stared out the window of Kimberley's office as   
Dana Scully stormed off in a fury of crushing grief.  He had had   
to deliver to her the devastating news that the inquiry into the   
murder of her sister was to be made inactive - despite his   
reassurances to the contrary, precisely for lack of interest.  And   
despite his reassurances that he would attempt to reverse that   
decision, they both knew he would be unsuccessful.   
	It had been five months since Melissa's death, five   
months since they had none-too-ceremoniously ended their   
relationship, as quickly as it had began.  They had had sex once,   
and then, a second time, had made love, erasing the fear and the   
meaninglessness of the first encounter with the love and   
commitment of the second.  But on their return from the desert of   
Maryland's wastelands, Scully's sister had died of the gunshot   
wound that had been meant for her.   
	Skinner had been at her side when the news broke.  He   
had watched her wage a futile battle with the tears before   
slumping against him, as though physically struck.  He had   
nursed and comforted her with the tenderness of a parent, saying   
soothing nonsense words into her hair as he had so often to his   
daughter, Susannah, now in Europe at boarding school.   
	At last, she had broken away and risen to her feet.    
"Walter," she said softly, not looking at him, "this changes   
	Skinner stared at her.  "Changes things?  How?"   
	Scully's face contorted as she fought her tears.  He   
couldn't see it, but he could sense it.  "I can't be with you,   
Walter.  I need to fight and beat this.  I can't let it defeat me.    
And to do that, I need to be strong.  You...you I would trust   
enough to let go with, to be weak with.  If I do that, this will kill   
me."  She did weep then.  "I'm sorry."   
	He rose and took her in his arms then.  "So am I, Scully.    
So am I."   
	Scully pulled away then.  "Thank you for   
understanding, Walter.  I'm not asking you to wait-"   
	Skinner cut her off.  "I will always wait for you."   
	Scully had not argued with that, perhaps lacking the   
strength.  So he had kissed her once, and walked away.   
	The intervening months had not been so hard as he had   
feared.  They had been close, sharing low key lunches and the   
occasional dinner - just enough for Kimberley to notice.  Their   
rare kisses were lingering, yet chaste in quality.  Kissing without   
intent, he liked to call it.  As much as he missed her, dreamed of   
her, more than anything he ached for her to let him simply hold   
	Now, he stared down the corridor through which she   
had fled, knowing she had been felled, at least momentarily, by   
this blow.  He made a decision, and picked up Kimberley's   
	Scully stared down at the airline ticket Mulder had   
given to her moments before, her brow furrowing.  She really   
wasn't up to this right now.  She supposed she could have told   
him about Melissa and he would have understood, but she just   
couldn't do it.   
	Her cell phone rang.  She opened the flip.  "Scully."   
	"It's Walter," he said softly.   
	She attempted to pre-empt him.  "Walter, I'm fine-"   
	He ignored her.  "Could you come back up here   
	Scully sighed with sudden exhaustion.  "On my way."   
	Skinner had just taken his place in his own office when   
Scully arrived.   
	"You wanted to see me?"   
	Skinner looked up.  "Come in, Scully."  He came to   
meet her, closing and locking the door behind her.  She frowned,   
perplexed, but didn't comment.   
	"You wanted to see me?" she repeated.   
	Skinner snapped, "Don't keep saying 'You wanted to   
see me' like a damn china doll, Scully."   
	"You mean a talking doll, Walter," she corrected   
helpfully.  "We shouldn't speak here," she added parenthetically.   
	Skinner said just as parenthetically, "It's safe.  The   
office was swept a few minutes ago.  That's why I spoke to you in   
Kim's office - they were just here."  With effort, he controlled his   
growing temper.  "Scully, damn it, I'm sick of the I'm-okay   
posturing.  I don't think it's healthy.  I know this thing with   
Melissa has hit you hard-"   
	Scully's expression darkened.  "I don't want to hear it,   
Walter," she said sharply.  She rose.  "I don't want to talk about   
this." Turning on her heel, she bolted for the door.   
	He beat her to it, grabbing her hand as she reached out   
for the door handle.  "Well I do!" he insisted.  He held her wrist   
in an iron grip.   
	She twisted it viciously in an effort to get free.  "I   
don't," she snarled through clenched teeth.   
	Skinner didn't release her.  "It's okay to let it out.  I am   
//ordering// you to let it out.  And afterwards you can tell   
yourself it didn't count because I made you, if it makes you feel   
better about it.  But let it flow just for a little while."   
	Their gazes met for a long moment as she continued to   
struggle, the battle of wills waged in their eyes.  She saw the   
clarity in them, and suddenly knew she could trust him to get her   
through what she could not survive alone.  And then she realised   
the iron grip on her wrist had become a soft, imploring stroking   
of her fingers.  He nodded slowly.  "It's all right, Dana," he   
whispered.  "I'll keep you safe."   
	And then, quite suddenly, she crumpled.   
	She sank to her knees, weeping in deep gutteral moans.    
Her sounds were incoherent.  He was there with her, his body   
curled around hers, and she clutched at his jacket feverishly.  He   
couldn't make out much, but he did make out, "-my fault-".    
	He cradled her even closer then.  "No, no," he said,   
almost singsong, soothingly.  "Their fault.  Not yours.  You   
would die for her and not blame her.  And neither would she   
blame you.  Not your fault," he soothed.   
	Her weeping eventually tapered off into hitching little   
sobs, and she stayed very still.  For a long moment, he thought   
she was asleep.  But when he shifted minutely, she looked up at   
him, her face tearstained, but her eyes dry.  They were dark with   
spent emotion and exhaustion; dark and unfathomable.   
	He leaned forward and kissed her, gently, chastely.    
"Dana-" he broke off.   
	She moaned softly as he pulled away, some part of her   
begging him not to leave her alone.  Nonetheless, she shook her   
head weakly.  "Don't, Walter," she whispered.  "I can only take   
right now.  I can't give you the love you deserve."   
	He smoothed back the hair from her face in an almost   
maternal gesture.  "Dana, don't.  I love you.  That's just how it is.    
You don't need to earn it."  He broke away and sat crosslegged,   
giving her space without leaving her.   
	She sat likewise, facing him, a wry smile on her face.    
"Why did Sharon leave you, Walter?"  Her tone was curious.   
	Skinner was taken aback.  "What?"   
	She continued.  "You're very generous and very patient   
and very giving - more than any woman has a right to ask.  I don't   
understand why she would leave you."   
	He shook his head.  "Dana, if I am generous or patient   
or giving, it's because I learned too late that a lack of those things   
cost me Sharon.  I was a pretty lousy husband, to tell the truth.  I   
just...shut her out.  Exactly the same way you try to shut me out,"   
he added pointedly.   
	Scully hung her head.  "Oh, Walter."  She shook it,   
copper curls flying.  Looking up, she took his hands.  "I've   
missed you," she sighed wistfully.  She leaned forward, took his   
face between her slim palms, and kissed him gently, her tongue   
less an invasion than a loving caress.   
	With a low sound, he returned the kiss, his hands still   
sitting dumbly in her lap where she'd dropped them.  He neither   
touched her nor pulled her to him, just savoured her soft lips   
between his, his tongue sliding into her with all the gentleness of   
a spring breeze.  He felt that drowsy, sluggish feeling of insistent   
arousal muted by a sense that he could sit here gently kissing her   
lips for all time.   
	In the end it was she who broke the spell.  Breaking   
away, she breathed, "I want you, Walter.  I want you to make love   
to me."  Her eyes held his, dark and inscrutable.   
	He touched her cheek.  "Are you sure?" he asked   
	She nodded.   
	Skinner rose and went to the desk.  Lifting the receiver,   
he said in a carefully neutral tone, "Kimberley, Agent Scully and   
I are in conference.  No calls for an hour please."  He walked to   
each of the two access doors and locked them in turn.   
	"She won't suspect?" Scully asked, amused.   
	Skinner snorted.  "Of course she will.  But like all good   
personal assistants, she subscribes to the 'Don't ask, don't tell'   
policy at all times."   
	She watched him with an indulgent little smile.  She   
wasn't aroused - that wasn't why she wanted this now.  Rather,   
she needed, more than anything, to be held, to feel connected to   
him.  In truth she had felt sexually dead these five months.  And   
yet the idea of this coupling did not disturb her.  It filled her with   
	Skinner, for his part, knew well enough that this was   
not really physical for Scully - perhaps better than she herself   
did.  With a seventeen year marriage behind him, comfort fucks   
in the bad times were familiar territory.  Though they lacked the   
animus of a lustful encounter, in a strange way he enjoyed their   
	Turning away from the door, he walked over to Dana,   
holding out his hands.  She took them and allowed him to pull   
her up.  He removed her heavy black coat and hung it up.  He   
walked to the black leather lounge and sat, her following like a   
docile child.  Pulling her down at his side, he took her into his   
arms, let her snuggle in against him.  Gently, he rubbed her neck   
and shoulders, trying to ease that essential tension that had been   
inexorably etched into the lines of her when Missy died.  His   
fingers drifted easily over her scalp, her neck, her earlobes and   
shoulders until she sighed, slumping in against him, her hands   
idly stroking him through his shirt.  Finally, slowly, he eased her   
back into the lounge, her shock of hair framing her face.   
	She drew in her breath as his shadow fell over her, and   
for the first time she felt that faint giddy frission of desire.    
Suddenly the burden of too many months alone seemed   
unbearably heavy.  To be held, touched; to join with   
another....somehow an incredible hunger had been unleashed.    
Suddenly she was leaning up to kiss him, insistently,   
demandingly.  Her mouth plundered his urgently.  Feeling   
slightly drunk, she breathed, "Walter, please...I need you."   
	He drew back.  "What do you need, Dana?" he asked   
	"I need you to touch me. Touch me like a woman, not a   
doll you're afraid to break."  She took his hand.  "Touch me   
here," she whispered, bringing it to the swell of her breast,   
cupping his fingers over it, rotating it slowly.  "Or here," bringing   
his other hand down over her hip, her thigh, the still-clothed   
juncture at the top of her legs, then back up to her throat.  "Take   
me and make me part of you.  Don't leave me alone in this glass   
box you've made for me in your mind."   
	A small frown crossed his face as he digested this.    
Then, wordlessly, he cradled her head in his hands and kissed   
her, pulling her firmly against him, moaning against her mouth.    
This time, his hands slid over her body as he mindlessly   
murmured her name.   The warmth of his fingers radiated over her   
breasts, her stomach, her pubis, her legs.  She shifted beneath   
him, arousal slowly building, as she clutched at his shoulders.    
Her legs parted automatically, entwining themselves around his   
body.  Still kissing him, she unbuttoned his shirt, hasty desire   
rendering her clumsy and ineffectual.  He gave a low laugh   
against her mouth, which turned to a moan when she ran her   
fingertips over his shoulders, pushing it off him.  He dragged the   
shirt off his arms, uttering a frustrated oath when one hand   
caught on the cuff.  She shook with laughter as she released him,   
her mouth still moving languidly against his.   
	It occured to Scully that she would like to kiss his neck,   
his ears; but somehow their desperate kiss was so much more   
important than anything else either of them did with their bodies.    
He seemed to understand that, because he, too, made no move to   
break away, touching her instead with his fingers, his hands.  It   
seemed to her that this act of intercourse would take place not   
between her legs, but in this coupling at the mouth; that the   
joining that would occur elsewhere in their bodies was merely   
peripheral.  This intimacy of their locked gazes was central.   
	Skinner leaned back to sit up, pulling her with him.  He   
unfastened the big fabric-covered buttons of her crimson jacket.    
She shrugged it off and threw it aside.  Reluctantly, she broke   
the kiss and dragged her thin burgundy sweater over her head.    
He leaned in towards her as though to kiss her, but this time to   
speak.  His lips brushing her cheek, he breathed, "I still love you,   
	The faint whisper of warmth of his breath sent shudders   
through her.  Scully moaned, flinging back her head.  How could   
he do this to her with barely a touch? she wondered, not for the   
first time.  Wildly, she sighed, "I love you too, Walter; I never   
stopped.  It was always you for me."   
	"Always?" he echoed in wonder, pulling back from her.   
	She nodded, leaning towards his lips.  "Always," she   
breathed, a hair's breadth from him, and then her lips met his.    
She pressed her body against his, felt the throb of his heartbeat   
against her own.  He unzipped her skirt and lifted her slightly.    
She straightened her legs and allowed him to slide it off her,   
shuddering slightly as his hands ran over the length of them.  He   
laid her back on the lounge, stood, and removed his trousers and   
her pantyhose.  Darkness descended for a moment as his shadow   
fell across her, possessing her, and for a long strange moment she   
felt as though he were within her already.   
	She held out her arms, and he went into them with a   
ragged sigh, meeting her upturned mouth with his.  He pulled her   
bra straps off her shoulders, brushing his palms over them.  He   
grazed his fingers over her jaw, then ran his palm down her   
throat and over her breast, cupping it, pressing it firmly.  It   
seemed her breath caught in her throat.  "Walter," she said   
thickly.  He worked the other hand into her panties, but did not   
touch her.  Instead, he teased the thatch of red curls there,   
smiling secretly as she gave a low, imploring moan.   
	Suddenly, she pushed him backwards and sat up on her   
knees.  Deftly, she reached behind her and unfastened her bra,   
casting it aside.  She knelt up and pushed down her panties,   
primly swinging her legs over the side of the lounge to remove   
them the rest of the way.  Skinner removed his own briefs,   
watching her with some amusement.   
	Naked now, she pressed her body against his once   
more.  This time, his chest pressed her bare breasts, pushing   
them upwards, her bare nipples thrust into prominence.  He   
stared down at them for a moment, then bent to take one in his   
mouth, taking it gently between his teeth and turning it slightly.    
Her body throbbed in response.  Lower, she could feel his cock   
against her pubis, hard and warm and demanding.  She felt that   
dull ache deep in her stomach, that ache women get when they   
want to be filled...joined with another.  Her knees were weak,   
and now it was he who held her body against his.     
	She pressed against him even harder, her kiss insistent,   
her hands roaming feverishly.  She took one of his nipples   
between her finger and thumb, flicked it back and forth gently.    
This time, it was he who gave a rasping exclamation, turning to a   
moan when she took his cock in her hands.  She pushed him   
back on the lounge and bent her head, seemed to contemplate   
him a moment, then took him into her mouth.   
	He was salty.  She encircled the head with her tongue,   
gently probing the tiny opening.  She nuzzled the diamond-  
shaped patch of nerve endings on the underside, and was   
rewarded with a jerking gasp.  He had regressed to pre-vocal   
communication, she thought with a silent giggle.  With all the   
relish of a conisseur, she took him in her mouth and slid down   
him, her hand firmly pumping the lower part she couldn't   
accommodate.  With her other hand she cupped his balls, softly   
rolling them back and forth.  She kept going until his movements   
grew jerky, then pulled away.   
	He sat up and drew her to him.  He laid her back and   
kissed her once, then moved down her body, his nose blazing a   
trail to her core.  Her legs parted involuntarily.  He ran his hands   
over her hips, then brought them down to part her lips.  And then   
the softness engulfed her.   
	With difficulty, she concentrated on her breathing.  It   
was too easy to go racing to the edge...and then just stop.    
Breathe in, breathe out (oh, yes, Walter, do that, just like that),   
breathe in (so warm...so warm), breathe out, breathe in...he   
sucked gently on her engorged clitoris, and she whimpered with   
agonising pleasure, spreading slowly but inexorably through her   
body like molten lava.  Breathe out, Dana (God, oh God, thank   
you for him, for this, for now), breathe in (yes, my love, so warm   
so warm so warm)-   
	She came, her hands cradling his head, shuddering not   
outside her body but deep inside.  She gave a single breathless   
cry.  Not a move betrayed her, but when he laid his head against   
her stomach, he could feel deep ripples of movement, her   
muscles singing in symphony.  She lay completely still, and he   
himself felt utter completion.  He hauled himself up her body,   
coming to rest with his head between her breasts.   
	He would have gone to sleep there, he was sure, if she   
hadn't spread her legs wider beneath him.  "Now, Walter," she   
said in a low voice.  "Love me now."   
	He didn't enter her straight away, but gazed at her,   
silently asking if she were sure.   
	"I'm sure," Scully whispered earnestly.  "Always."   
	There was a nudging, a bead of heat against her.  And   
then the warmth seared into her, then again, and again, and she   
clung to him, her lips on his, her gaze fixed on his, her body   
opening to meet him, wanting only to be owned, possessed,   
worshipped, loved.  //Women's lib be damned,// she thought   
wryly, //there is only this...to be taken in the truest sense, to be   
transformed into something other than what you were//.  And   
perhaps he caught something of this in her eyes, because he   
stared at her with such a piercing gaze that she felt it everywhere,   
like fire...her jaw, her throat, her nipples, in the pit of her   
stomach and deep in her core, where they were joined.  And most   
of all in her heart, which she felt would burst with it.  He thrust   
into her slowly, evenly, wanting this union to last even as his   
breathing became ragged with racing desire.   
	Skinner clasped his arms around her, his mouth   
cherishing hers.  He came, her name on his lips, felt her contract   
to cling to him still as he emptied himself into her, and he   
realised that for the third time now, he had loved her   
	//Set that thought aside.//  He held her tightly, his head   
and heart so urgently ablaze with love he was sure he would   
burst.  //Dana...my love.//   
	But the thought would not be set aside.   
	//I want her to be pregnant,// he thought slowly, still   
inside her, as their bodies came to rest against one another.  //I   
want to make her pregnant.//   
	Did he want to marry her?   
	Did he want a child when he didn't even know the one   
he had?   
	Just what lay in the mind of a man who would make his   
lover pregnant?   
	And just what lay in the mind of a woman who would   
let him?   
	Disturbing thought.  Why on earth had she never   
insisted on birth control?  Did she want what he wanted?  Could   
that be?   
	"Dana?" he said softly.   
	She stirred slightly, but did not move, lest he should   
leave her body.  "What is it, Walter?"   
	"Are you on the Pill?" he asked diffidently.   
	Scully shook her head cautiously.  She had expected   
this sooner.  "No, Walter, I'm not.  I'm not using anything."   
	Skinner frowned.  "Why not?  Is it your religion?"   
	She laughed softly.  "No, it isn't.  I'm not //that//   
Catholic."  She paused.  "Perhaps I am, in a way.  It's true I won't   
use the Pill, or IUDs, because they prevent implantation, not   
conception.  But that's not why I haven't used //anything//."   
	"Then why?" he asked softly.   
	Her good humour faded.  "I don't know, Walter.  I can't   
answer that."   
	He frowned.  "Do you //want// a baby, Dana?"   
	Scully breathed in sharply.  Did she?  //Did// she?  Had   
he hit on what she herself had not known?  She replied   
cautiously, slowly.  "It would be a massively stupid thing to   
do...what with my lifestyle and everything.  And...we don't really   
know where this is going yet-"   
	He cut her off.  "That's not what I asked, Dana.  I asked   
if you wanted a baby."   
	She met his gaze.  "In an ideal world, maybe.  But in   
this world it would compromise the X Files.  No, I don't want a   
baby now."  She averted her eyes.  "Do you?  Is that why you're   
pushing this?"   
	Skinner shrugged uneasily.  "For me, too, it would be a   
stupid thing to do.  My lifestyle...the question marks over   
us...and God knows, I don't have the best track record...I have a   
sixteen year old daughter who I see for two weeks at Christmas.    
But...that's not what you asked."  He gave her a wry grin.  "Yes, I   
do.  Very much."  He frowned.  "I'm not pushing for this, Dana.  I   
wouldn't have even mentioned it if this birth control thing hadn't   
come up.  And I'm not asking you to have a child with me.  I'm   
just putting it out there...that that's something I want in the   
future.  You need to know that."   
	Scully nodded slowly.  "Okay," she said slowly.  "But   
as long as we're putting things out there, you need to know that   
as much as I'd like a baby, I'm not going to have one.  Not now."   
	Skinner's hold on her tightened.  "Fair enough," he said   
	//But she carries condoms just like me, and just like me,   
she doesn't use them.//   
	He let the thought go for another time.   
	She left him, diffidently, with a gentle kiss, to go to   
	After a hectic day in San Diego and an agonising trip   
down memory lane at Mirramar Naval Base, she hauled herself   
with some effort into her fleet sedan and drove home.  It was past   
office hours at the Bureau; she would keep the car til tomorrow.    
As much as she adored her fully restored Morris Mini, with its   
metallic burgundy exterior, its wooden dashboard, and its ecru   
velour interior; it didn't have a CD stacker.   
	//Not yet//, she thought, promising herself one with a   
	She pulled up on the street across the road from her   
apartment building and checked her watch, mentally cursing   
herself for the thousandth time for buying in Annapolis.  Okay,   
she'd own the place in six years, as against twenty in   
Washington; but somehow that fourteen years' difference was   
preferable to the forty minutes' difference in travel time - or so it   
seemed at eleven at night.   
	With the sigh of an overtired public servant, she   
dragged herself out of the car and into the building, her body   
groaning with every step.  She let herself into her apartment with   
	The telephone rang.   
	Scully picked up the cordless breathlessly.  Once she   
would have answered, "Yes, Mulder?".  But now, it could be   
Skinner.  Times had changed.  So she said simply, "Hello?"   
	It was neither Skinner nor Mulder.  It was Kim Cooke.   
	"AD Skinner's been shot."   
Someone I Trusted IV: The Apocryphal File, in which Scully   
decides to try for a baby, after all   
Someone I Trusted V: Sharon's Reprise, in which Skinner is torn   
between Sharon and Scully   
Someone I Trusted VI: Interlude, in which Susannah Skinner   
holidays with Scully and Skinner   
Someone I Trusted VII: Terma's Shadow, in which Scully   
answers Skinner's jealousy with a commitment   
Someone I Trusted VIII: Memento Mori, in which Scully and   
Skinner discover she cannot have children   
Someone I Trusted IX: Susannah, in which Susannah comforts   
her father and Scully   
Someone I Trusted X: Ground Zero, in which Skinner deals for   
Scully's life - and fertility   
Someone I Trusted XI: Monkey Babies, in which Scully turns to   
"Mulder" for solace   
Someone I Trusted XII: Redux, in which Scully turns on Skinner   
Someone I Trusted XIII: Redux Schmedux, in which Scully   
seeks Skinner's forgiveness   
Someone I Trusted XIV: Pendrell's Legacy, in which Mulder   
offers a solution