X-Files Fic: D’un Nouvel Oeil, Chapter Seven
ORADOUR-SUR-GLANE, HAUTE-VIENNE, FRANCE
“Is there anything else that you need right now?”
Walther Skinner is leaning against the butcher’s block in the cafe kitchen, a rucksack resting at his feet, watching Scully work her way through all of the tasks that must be completed before she opens for business in an hour. He’d arrived at the back door first thing in the morning.
“I don’t think so,” Scully says, cutting cheese into thin slices for sandwiches. "Mulder’s been able to get me the medicines I need, for now. And my other contacts have been helpful, as well.“ She sets the platter of cheese off to the side and checks the bread that’s baking in the oven, filling the entire kitchen with its intoxicating aroma. She turns back to Skinner and dusts her hands off on her apron. "I’m as well-supplied as I’ve ever been.” She thinks of the stash of condoms upstairs, secured for her by Byers, the only one she could have requested to procure them for her without incurring a great deal of innuendo and leering. She still can’t believe she’d let them slide and forgotten one, that first time. "Better supplied, really,“ she amends, hoping she’s not blushing. Skinner nods.
"That’s good to hear,” he says. He bends to open his rucksack, and from within, he withdraws three bottles of very expensive wine, a bottle of brandy, and a bottle of cognac. "Can you use any of these? Serve them in the cafe?“ Scully’s eyes widen as she examines the wine labels.
"I definitely could,” she says. "I could charge a premium for them, too.“ She picks up the brandy. "The extra money could go to getting more chloral… stitching up lacerations and setting bones would be much easier if I didn’t need three people to hold each injured man down.” She looks up at Skinner. "Thank you, Walther. These will help tremendously.“ Skinner shrugs off her gratitude.
"Think nothing of it,” he says… then shifts his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. "You should put it about that Mulder got them for you, in exchange for your… arrangement.“ Scully frowns.
"Have the men at camp been asking questions?”
“There have been comments, here and there,” says Skinner. He shrugs, doesn’t meet her eyes. "They see the way he looks at you.“
"He’s not very good at hiding it,” Scully concedes, blushing. Even though she knows it’s not something she should be encouraging, she can’t stop the small smile that creeps onto her face; Mulder’s worshipful gaze has quickly become something of an addiction for her.