Chapter 33 


Doggett's mouth fell open. He'd walked into that one with both eyes 
open and his legs apart, just inviting her to give him a good, hard 
kick in the balls. 
"What did you say?"
"Are you deaf as well as sinful?"
Doggett's mouth dropped further. 
"Ma..." Sal started to rise out of her chair. "There's no need for 
that, for God's sake!"
"Isn't there?
"You don't wanna be doing that," Doggett warned, his face dark. 
"Doing what, might I ask?"
"Throwin' stones."
She glared at him. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"
"Johnny..." Sal reached out.
Doggett ignored her. "Glass houses, Ma."
"I don't know what you mean." She folded her arms over her 
chest. "Seems to me like being one of those types had addled your 
brains."

Doggett's stomach burned, anger building in acid-filled waves. He 
placed his sandwich on the empty bag and stood up. No way was she 
going to beat him with the guilt-stick any longer. 
He stepped towards her. 
"I don't care what you think of me any more. I'm old enough to decide 
for myself who I love." He pointed at Skinner. "And whether you 
approve or despise me for it, I love that man." He pulled his hand 
back to point at her. "Seems to me you're the last person in this 
room to be lecturing anyone about being sinful."
"Johnny..." He felt Sal touch his arm. "Don't."

He ignored her and continued to glare at their mother with the same 
furrowed brow. He might have inherited her temper, but he was damned 
sure he hadn't got her morals. He had never cheated on his wife. 
He watched her hand rise. "I ought to slap your face for you, young 
man."
"Go ahead. See if it makes you feel any better."

As her hand flew out to crack against the side of his face, he idly 
wondered if his father could hear all this and what he would be 
thinking. Same old, probably. Same old.
"Ma!"
"No!"
Hearing the other two cry out through the ringing in his ear, Doggett 
held his hand up to stop them intervening. He pointed at Betty.
"You get that one for free. But it's the last time. You hear me?" 
"Why you..." 
Her hand came up again but he caught it easily. He held her wrist 
firmly. 
"You listen to me, Ma and listen good..." He ducked his head slightly 
so he looked her straight in the eye. "You either love me for what I 
am, regardless of who shares my bed, or you and I are done. You 
don't get to pick who you love. Family, or otherwise. It just 
happens. You of all people should understand that."

Her struggles to free her arm stopped as he said that. Her head 
tilted on one side in a way he recognized from the mirror. A shiver 
ran through him. 
"What do you mean?" she said.
Doggett swallowed. It was too late to back off now. And most of him 
was glad.
"Did you love him more than Papa?"
"Who?"
"Michael's father."

Doggett stood and watched as all the color and fight drained out of 
his mother at his words. He slowly released her wrist as it became 
clear from her face that hitting him was the last thing on her mind.
"Oh..." She covered her mouth, eyes wide. 
"Mama..." Sal stepped up to put her arm around sagging 
shoulders. "Here, sit." She guided her mother to her chair in time 
for her legs to give way. "It's okay... it's okay."

Doggett watched his sister fussing, wondering if he should feel 
concerned, sorry, or just plain, old-fashioned guilty. He glanced 
over at Skinner and decided to concentrate on the first two and leave 
the last item on the shelf. He moved to stand next to the bigger man, 
feeling a hand slide up his warm back to rub in little circles. He 
was done with guilt.
"How long... " Betty cleared her throat. "How long have you known?"
Doggett shrugged. "A while," he said, deliberately vague. He flicked 
a look at Sal who nodded slightly. 
"Oh..." She twisted her hands together, watching them writhe and 
clutch at each other. Her face contorted. "I didn't ... It 
wasn't..." 
Sally patted her shoulders. "Shhh. It's okay."
Doggett really didn't feel the need to listen to a confession. "Ma. 
You don't have to explain." Whatever had happened was between his 
parents. "I just wanted to make a point." 
He had also wanted to lash out and hurt, but he thought she probably 
knew that already.

"The point being that we all make mistakes?" She moved her eyes to 
Skinner as she spoke. Doggett felt his hackles rise. He stepped 
forward. 
"Yeah, we do, Ma. And Lord knows I've made my fair share." He made 
sure she was looking at his face as he spoke. "But Walt isn't one 
of them."
"But..."
Bending to crouch in front of her, he took her hands in his and 
stilled them. "Love is never a mistake, Ma. And I don't give a shit 
what anyone thinks of that; I love him."
"Don't curse," she scolded softly.
He smiled. "Okay." 

They looked at one another long enough for Doggett to feel the 
prickle of blood-loss in his legs.
Finally, Betty sighed. 
"I love your father. Don't ever doubt that."
Doggett nodded. "Okay."
"I did. I do." She reached up to take Sal's hand. "I love you both, 
too."
Doggett didn't speak, but Sal leaned in. "We know, Ma."

"I didn't want to give him up. But Jack couldn't stand it." She 
pulled in a deep breath. "So I had to choose. It was either my 
family, or my baby. I couldn't keep both." A look of distress passed 
across her face. "Oh, but I wanted him. I wanted to keep him so 
bad." 
She reached up to stroke Doggett's cheek. "He looked so much like 
you, Johnny. It near broke my heart to let him go."
"Ma..." He covered her hand with his. "It's okay. You don't have to 
say any more. I understand."
If there was one thing John Doggett understood, it was losing a child.

"Your dad was going to take you way from me if I didn't give him 
up..." Her voice caught. "You were seven years old; how could I let 
him walk out with you?"
Doggett's head was filled with images of what must have happened. The 
tears, the fights and the compromise. He didn't think he had the 
imagination to put himself in either of his parent's shoes. 
He pushed the pictures away and turned his head to kiss his mother's 
hand. "It doesn't matter now. Let's just move on, huh?"
"Oh, John..."
"Hush, Ma."
"John..." Doggett looked up at Skinner's soft voice. "Your dad."


*



Doggett looked over at the bed and felt his guts drop. The monitors 
were stuttering and flashing.
"Oh god..." 
He stood quickly, his knees popping and creaking, panic grabbing at 
him. Not now... This couldn't be happening now, it wasn't the right 
moment. He wasn't ready. 
"Jack?" Betty reached the bed first. She took a wizened hand in 
hers. "Jack?"

Doggett moved to stand on the opposite side, Sal's hand slipping into 
his. They looked at the figure lying under the crisp sheets. He was 
gray, with all but his eyes looking as dry as parchment. His eyes 
were bright, not with tears or anything as melodramatic as that, but 
just with a shiny film of double-glazing.
Doggett was sure if he reached out and slid them shut, it would be 
for the last time.

"Jack? Can you hear me, honey?" Betty stroked his hand. "Everyone's 
here. We're all here for you, sweetheart."
Doggett didn't know what he was expecting, maybe some sort of death-
bed scene that would add completion to the moment. Maybe his dad 
would reach out and take his hand, telling him it was okay, don't 
worry, he loved him. Hell, even a blink of his eyes would be 
something. 
But not this. Not this total lack of response.
Typical; trust the old man to try and get out of dealing with a 
major family scene by dying. 
Doggett nearly smiled. Betty would have been royally pissed if he'd 
managed to slip away without anyone noticing.
"Dad?" 
He put his fingers out to touch his father's forearm. The skin moved 
but didn't spring back into place like it ought. 
He supposed he should say more, but his throat betrayed him, closing 
up. 

And then it was over. No fanfare, not sudden declaration, just a 
continuous green line on a monitor and a still chest.
Doggett held his breath, waiting for the old man to struggle and 
gasp, to start breathing again, but eventually, the air hissed out of 
his lungs in a resigned sigh. 
That was that. Jack Doggett wasn't there any more. 


chapter 34.


The room was lit by just one lamp. Doggett lay on his back and 
listened to the sound of Skinner in the shower. Nearly a whole day 
after his father had died and he still hadn't cried. Not that he 
reckoned that was all that important, he'd shed more than enough 
tears while the old man had been alive. No doubt he'd see some more 
at the funeral.
Sally had gone to pieces at the hospital so he'd been more than 
occupied with consoling her to indulge himself. Well, that and 
dealing with his mother's grief. She had been tearful, but not as 
hysterical as he might have imagined. But then she'd always been the 
type to fly into a hissy-fit over minor stuff rather than the 
biggies. He was grateful for that much. Seemed that the mantle of 
being head of the family had dropped squarely on his shoulders with 
the appearance of that thin, green line and he didn't think he was 
anywhere near ready for it.

He sighed and stretched his arms over his head. It was strange, but 
after the challenge he threw down about Michael, he seemed to have 
reached a new level of understanding with his mother. Not that she 
was thrilled all of a sudden to have a gay son, but she had at least 
stopped making sharp and hurtful comments. That was progress of a 
sort, he supposed. Maybe after the dust had settled and the funeral 
was out of the way she'd start up again. He wouldn't start 
celebrating their new-found relationship just yet.

A damp Skinner came into the room, clutching a towel. Doggett 
grinned. 
"How you feeling?" Skinner asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, 
drying off what was left of his hair.
"I'm doin' okay," Doggett replied, running a hand over the damp back.
"Sure?"
Uh-huh. Sure."
"Good." He leaned in to kiss Doggett soundly. "Glad to hear it. But 
it's not going to be that simple, you know," he said, shaking his 
head.
Doggett sighed and lay back on the pillows. "I know."
"Do you?"
"I think so. It's gonna take some time for her to get her happy head 
around us."
"I wasn't talking about that."
Doggett frowned. "Oh?"
"Your dad. It's going to take you a while to get used to the fact 
he's not around for you."

Sighing loudly, Doggett rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, well. S'not like he 
was there for me a whole lot anyway."
"But still..."
Doggett laid his arms over his head. "Look, Walt. I appreciate what 
you're sayin'. But our families were nothing alike, okay? You still 
hurt over your folks, two years down the line. Can't see that 
happening myself. I'm sorry an' all that. I loved him, but I'm not 
gonna have a breakdown because he's dead."
"Okay. I'll hold you to that."
Doggett grinned. "I'd rather you just held me to you." He reached out 
and grabbed Skinner's shoulder's pulling him down on the bed.
"Easy, Big Dog. We're supposed to out of here in a half hour."
Doggett tweaked a nipple. "Think we got time for a quickie?"
"Uh-uh." Skinner pulled away, grinning. "Not unless you want your 
mother bursting in on us to find out where we are."
Doggett laughed softly. "That'd sure clear up any misconceptions she 
might have about our relationship.
Skinner grunted. "I don't think she has any misconceptions; that's 
the problem."

He stood up, allowing Doggett to admire the magnificent view and 
began dressing. Doggett lay back and watched.
"You know, I like you in the khaki pants."
Skinner gave him an amused look. "Yeah?"
"Definately."
"Then khaki it is."

Doggett grinned at the sight of Skinner bending over to pull on his 
pants. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of that view.
"Nice ass," he said.
Skinner gave him a stern look over his shoulder. "You're impossible," 
he grumbled, buttoning himself up.
"That's me."
Pulling a sweater out of his bag, Skinner frowned as he unfolded 
it. "You think you'll try and find him?"
"Who?"
"Your brother."

Doggett felt himself flinch a little at that. He'd pushed the concept 
out of his head and hearing Skinner voice the fact that he had 
another sibling was startling.
"I'm not sure." 
"Must have crossed your mind." Skinner popped his head through the 
neck of his clothes. "It's crossed mine."
Doggett smiled. "What? You mean thinkin' about tryin' to get a pair 
of Doggett's in your bed?"
A balled-up pair of socks flew across the room, making Doggett 
chuckle.
Skinner winced. "I can't believe you said that."
"You thought about it, though?" Doggett teased, throwing the socks 
back.
"No," Skinner replied, a slow grin spreading over his face, betraying 
him.
"Pervert."
Skinner shrugged. "Hey, you brought it up."
Doggett shook his head. "An' I'm real sorry `bout that, now."
"So? What about it?"
"Aww, Jeez, Walt!" Doggett screwed his face up.
Skinner sat on the end of the bed. "I meant trying to find him, you 
reprobate."

"Oh." Doggett sighed. "To be honest, I haven't really had chance to 
think about it yet. Maybe." He shrugged. "Who knows? I don't know... 
Might be kinda wierd."
"He is your family."
"Might not know it. Might come as a hell of a shock to some poor guy."
"You're not that scary."
Doggett smiled. "I was thinkin' about Ma."
Skinner laughed. "Oh. I see what you mean."
"And speaking of the devil..." Doggett pulled himself up. "We'd 
better get goin'."





*

Taking his credit card back off the clerk, Skinner turned to watch 
the family group in the departure lounge.
Doggett stood between his mother and Sal, looking from one to the 
other. Skinner thought he was holding up well, despite the last few 
days. He didn't think for a minute that the other man was as over his 
father's death as he pretended, but whatever happened, he planned on 
being right beside him when it came down. 
He smiled as Doggett did his characteristic neck-scratch, one hand 
stuffed deep in his jeans pocket.

"Is that gonna give you enough time to get it all sorted out?" 
Doggett asked his mother.
She nodded. "You forget, we're old. We had our funerals planned and 
paid for a while back."
Sally rubbed his upper arm, giving it a squeeze. 
"Don't worry, John. I'll help Mama sort out the final details. Just 
you be sure to hurry back, okay?"
Doggett nodded. "I just gotta report in, then I'll take some personal 
time." He shrugged. "Or a vacation. Whichever gives me the most time 
off." 

Skinner watched him sigh and rub his neck again. An attack of the 
guilts again, by the look of it. It was getting so he could almost 
tell what was going through the other man's mind, just from his body 
language. Well, he wasn't going to let him wallow in that again. He 
picked up the carry-on bags and moved towards them. 

"Tickets are sorted," he said, moving to stand next to Sal. "I 
provisionally booked the day after tomorrow for the return trip. I 
hope that's okay?" He looked at Doggett.
"Only if you booked two."
Skinner smiled. "I already took that liberty."
Doggett grinned at him. "Good." He reached for his bag, making sure 
to brush Skinner's hand as he took the handles.

Sally moved to hug him. "You take care, now; and we'll see you in a 
couple of days." 
Doggett nodded, finding his arms full of sibling. He dropped the bag 
on the floor to put both his arms around her, his nose buried in her 
hair.
"Sure, sweetheart. I'll see ya." He pulled away and gave her a loud 
kiss on the cheek, making her laugh. "Take care of her?" he 
whispered.
Sal nodded. "I will." They smiled at one another, not having to 
glance over to their mother to know her eyes were on them. She let 
him go and turned to Skinner. "And you look after my Piglet, you 
hear?"
Skinner saluted. "Yes, Ma'am. Whatever you say."
Sal threw her head back and laughed. "I love it when you talk like 
that!" She reached up and gave him a hard hug.

Doggett grinned. Seeing her laugh was good. The best thing he'd seen 
in the past day, apart from a shower-damp Skinner, of course.
"Dammit, woman, put him down," he growled with mock severity.
"Just handling the merchandise," she said, smoothing Skinner's 
sweater down with a grin.
Doggett grunted, suppressing a grin of his own. He turned to his 
mother. "Try an' make her behave, will ya?"
Betty smiled and shrugged. "Gave up on that, long ago." 
"I hear ya." 

Hesitating for just a split second, Doggett moved to put his arms 
around her, only a tiny part of his mind wondering if she would push 
him away. He relaxed slightly as he felt her arms go around his back. 
"Take care, Mama. I'll be back before you know it." He felt her 
nodding against him. She said something and he pulled back. "Huh? 
What d'you say?"
"I said I'll look forward to seeing you." She flicked a glance over 
his shoulder. "Both of you," she added, quietly.

Doggett felt a surge of something very much like gratitude squirt in 
his belly. 
"Thank you."
Betty nodded and stepped around him. Doggett watched in amazement as 
she held her hand out.
"Walter..."
Walt stepped up to take her hand. "Mrs. Doggett."
"Please; call me Betty."
Skinner nodded.
The two of them stared at one another. Doggett was put in mind of a 
mongoose and snake stand-off. At last, Betty spoke. "We'll see you 
at the funeral?"
"With your permission?"
Betty inclined her head. "I think Jack would have wanted that."
"Then I'll be there. Thank you."

The tension of the moment was broken as the announcement for the 
flight to Washington boomed out above their heads.
"Shit!" Sally laughed nervously. "That scared the crap outta me."
"Don't curse, young lady."
Sal glanced at Doggett and rolled her eyes before cracking up again.

"We gotta go." Doggett collected his carry-on and nudged 
Skinner. "C'mon; move it, Fatass."
Skinner gave him a sour look as they made their way to the check-in. 
"We're going to have to discuss your penchant for name-calling in 
public, Agent Doggett."
"Yeah, yeah. You can spank me later." He turned to wave goodbye to 
the two women.
"Really?"
"Uh-huh." Doggett smiled, blowing a kiss to the pair down the 
corridor. "Tell you what... You can tie me to the bedposts with your 
handcuffs and make my bare ass sing, big guy." He waved one last 
time.

Skinner raised his hand in salute, nodding and smiling at the 
women. "You know, it's a very good job those two have no idea what 
you've just suggested," he said. 
"You wanna bet?" Doggett raised his eyebrows. "Mama can read lips."
Skinner's mouth dropped. He turned, his face starting to 
burn. "You're kidding?"
The reached check-in as Doggett grinned. "You reckon?"
"Jesus, John."
Laughing, Doggett stuck his elbow in the other man's ribs. "Course 
I'm kiddin'. But the look on your face was priceless!" He 
chuckled. "Almost as good as the one on your face when you realized 
you had to shake my mother's hand."

Skinner grunted. "Asshole," he said, handing over the tickets. He 
shook his head and glanced behind. "I thought she was going to pull 
me in and bite my throat out," he muttered.
"Aww, poor baby." Doggett leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Maybe 
you need something nice for bein' so brave..."
Skinner shivered, trying to keep his face straight in front of the 
airline clerk. 
"John; don't." Skinner warned. 

He nodded as casually as possible to the clerk who seemed to be 
taking an inordinately long time to check them in. He was acutely 
aware of how Doggett was standing so far inside his comfort-zone, 
that he could smell that cologne he always wore. That added to the 
fact that he was sure he could feel the other man's breath on his 
cheek, meant he didn't dare turn and look. 
He also knew, dollars to donuts, that Doggett would have that big, 
lop-sided grin all over his face.

"So, Walt, whaddya say you an' me stop off at the store..." Doggett 
breathed against his ear causing more shivers.
"An' get some ice-cold beer, some whipped cream and maple syrup..." 
There was a definite grin smothering that voice. Skinner bit the 
inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Typical Doggett to pick a 
moment like this to try and verbally seduce him. 

"An' have us a little party?"
Skinner felt his face redden at the expression on the airline clerk's 
face. Oh, there was going to be one hell of a payback scheme for 
this. He turned slowly to look at Doggett. He was, as expected, 
smirking.
Crushing all his natural conservative instincts, he raised an eyebrow 
and nodded. 

"That sounds good, John." He stared into the blue eyes. "I take it 
I can give your bare ass that thrashing you suggested?"
With a feeling of triumph at the very small noise Doggett made, 
Skinner turned back to the clerk and took the tickets from the open-
mouthed woman with a beaming smile. 
"Thank you," he said and began to walk toward the Departure lounge. 
He didn't bother to look back to see what color John had gone or how 
long it took him to come to his senses and follow. The grin on his 
face felt wonderful and there would be plenty of time to sort out 
whose ass was going to be spanked in the long hours they were going 
to be trapped on the plane. 
He wondered if Doggett would be willing to actually go for it when 
they got home. It sounded quite fun.



fin.