Summary: Scully is Mulder's safe harbor...and Skinner wants to
protect the bond between them.

**********************************************************************
*
Skinner strode purposefully down the hallway of the hotel, his
footfalls making muffled whomps against the soft carpet.  He muttered
to himself as he flipped through the file folder he held in his hand,
in his haste almost running over a young couple kissing in front of
one of the doors.

"Excuse me," he mumbled as he adjusted his course and continued to
stride toward his destination.

Skinner was excited that his decision to accompany two of his agents
on their current out-of-town assignment was yielding results.  He had
started feeling stale sitting behind his desk. Losing his old
skills.  Skinner could feel his senses dulling.

Of course, he reluctantly admitted to himself, it could have
something to do with his 50th birthday.

So, he called Mulder and Scully into his office as he always did.  He
briefed them on their new case as he always did.  And then he
announced that he was coming along.

He remembered the pause in each agents movements as they waited for
him to extrapolate.  He did not.  As is his privilege, he had told
himself at the time. *After all, I am a damn A.D. and their
supervisor.*

"Sir," Scully had ventured, "has there been some problem with our job
performance?"

"No, Agent Scully, there has not." Skinner answered smoothly.

Mulder simply stared at him with that "profiler" look in his eye.
*Trying to figure me out, Mulder?*

Skinner raised an eyebrow at Mulder and Mulder blinked, realizing he
was standing in the middle of Skinner's office staring at him.

Mulder took Scully's elbow as she opened her mouth again to
speak, "Fine, sir.  We'll head to our places and pack for the trip
and meet you here in about an hour?" He was gently urging Scully
toward the door by her elbow.

Skinner nodded and shifted some papers on his desk.

"Fine. See you then, Agents," Skinner tried to look busy.

Mulder's hand dropped to it's traditional place at the small of
Scully's back as he escorted her out the door.

Skinner had pushed back in his chair with a sigh, hoping he wasn't
making a mistake by accompanying Mulder and Scully on this case.
Hoping that he wasn't just going to prove himself right - that he had
indeed lost it and had become nothing more than a desk jockey.

And then Skinner kicked himself as he mentally added up the ways he
had messed up since the three of them had arrived in town.

First, he had picked the wrong accomodations for the X-files budget.

Mulder's eyes had crinkled in glee, "Maybe we should bring you along
more often, sir."

*How could I forget they usually end up staying in dumps?  How am I
going to justify this expenditure to accounting?!*

Then, he had silently watched in awe as Mulder and Scully sat on the
bed in Mulder's room and bantered back and forth, putting the case
together.  File folders were exchanged between the two.  Pictures
laid out in order and then reordered as the two discussed the case.

And Skinner could think of nothing to add.  In fact, he knew there
were things the two younger agents caught that he would have missed.
And it made him feel old.

The three had parted company and gone back to their respective rooms
at about 11 p.m. and Skinner had pored over the files, reports, and
photographs.  Surely there was something, SOMETHING, he could
contribute.

That's when he saw the anomaly.  He didn't think; he acted.  He had
to show the other agents.

*****************************************************************

Skinner realized that in his ruminations he had passed his intended
destination.  He walked back a few doors and, without thinking,
rapped twice as he did at the office and then let himself in.

He was already two strides into the room and speaking before he
realized what he had done and what he was seeing.

"Mulder, I found this anomaly in the third victim's crime scene and I
was wondering if you'd already-" Skinner's words froze in his throat.

Scully sat on the edge of Mulder's bed dressed in green pajamas and
bathed in the soft light from the hallway, the hand that had been
stroking his hair stilled with shock.  Mulder was twisting and
tossing in his sleep, mumbling incoherently.  His tossing quickly
became thrashing and his mumbling, yelling.

"Scully!?  No!  Let her go!"

Scully recovered her composure enough to put a finger to her lips,
shushing her boss.  She then resumed stroking Mulder's bed-mussed
hair, murmuring to him reassuringly, "Mulder, its alright.  I'm
here.  Its alright...its alright.."

Mulder's breathing slowed and, after a few minutes, the crease in his
forehead softened.  And slowly, but surely, his pulse calmed and his
breathing became heavy with deep, peaceful sleep.

Skinner stood stock still the entire time, almost hypnotised himself
by Scully's soft words.

Scully stood and carefully stepped to the connecting door.  She
beckoned Skinner to follow.
****************************************************************

Skinner watched for a moment as Scully disappeared throught the
connecting door between her and Mulder's rooms, shaking himself out
of his stupor when he saw her light come on.

Carefully closing the door to the hallway behind him, he quickly
strode to the connecting door and stepped through it into Scully's
room.  Scully closed it behind him and turned to face her boss with a
loud, resolved sigh.

"I imagine you would like to know what that was all about," Scully
stated, looking Skinner in the eye.

Noticing her bedside clock glowing "2am," he replied with apology. "I
imagine you would like to know why I was at Mulder's door bothering
the both of you at 2 in the morning."

Scully's eyebrows lifted in surprise, "Sir?"

"I had no business barging into either of your rooms at this hour and
so whatever is going on here is none of my business," Skinner
finished, and started to head toward Scully's door to leave.

She put her hand on his arm.  "Sir, that's just it.  What you think
is going on here, isn't."  He looked at her. "Please, sir, sit down."

Now understandably curious, Skinner sat in one of the chairs at the
small table in her room and waited.
****************************************************************

Scully paced up and down in front of Skinner once and then sat in the
chair opposite him.

"What I am about to tell you, sir, is very personal to Mulder and I'm
not even sure it would be o.k. with him.  I expect this to remain
between you and me."

"Whatever you tell me won't leave this room."

Scully folded her hands in front of her and stared at them.

"It was actually on our second or third out-of-town "profiling"-type
assignment that I began to realize something was wrong.  I woke up
suddenly, in the middle of the night, because I heard some strange
noises coming from Mulder's room.  At first,  I couldn't identify it,
but it got louder and then I could tell what it was.  All I knew was
that Mulder was screaming out for help and the name "Samantha."  I
pounded on the connecting door between the two rooms.  I yelled his
name.  Then I drew my gun and shot the lock off."

Scully paused to take a deep breath.  She cleared her throat.

"I just knew that someone was killing him.  When I ran into the room
with my gun drawn, Mulder was kneeling on the floor, facing his
window where a streetlight shone in.  He was screaming.  I mean
screaming, sir.  Heart-wrenching, grief-stricken screams.  His gun
lay on the floor beside him.  Everyone in the motel where we were
staying was outside and the manager was pounding on Mulder's door.

I managed to convince the motel manager to let me handle the
situation.  I'm sure the fact we were F.B.I. was the only reason that
the police weren't called.

Mulder had told me the story of his sister's abduction not too long
before this and it just came to me.  The streetlight.  The
streetlight had triggered this."

Scully paused to swallow, but still did not meet Skinner's eyes.  She
quickly chanced a glance.  He nodded solemnly for her to continue.

"I shot out the streetlight, sir.  It was the quickest solution.  I
shot it and told the manager to give me the bill in the morning.  As
soon as the light was out, the screams subsided.  I ran back into
Mulder's room and found him lying on his side, blinking into the
darkness.  He just looked up at me and said, "Scully? What the hell
happened?  I feel like I've been run over by a truck."

Scully laughed harshly then.  She wiped a hand over her face and
stood abruptly and began pacing.

"After telling him what had happened, I found out that this was not
the first time on these types of cases that he had had 'problems.'
After weeks of avoiding the subject, he admitted that he had left the
Violent Crimes Unit as a profiler after a nervous breakdown. He just
got too deep in the criminals' minds, he immersed himself.  And
anytime a case had to do with children....well, the result was
similar to that night with the streetlight."

Skinner nodded.  " I knew about the breakdown.  Many people did, even
though it wasn't put in his file.  I can't say I blamed him with the
type of work they had him doing."

Scully sat again, nodding.  "Mulder told me as much. He said that he
suspected you knew and that others did as well. Anyway, over time,
whenever we got those 'types' of cases, I would get extremely
worried.  I started leaving the connecting door open so I could hear
if he began to have a nightmare.  When he would, I would sit by his
bed and just comfort him.  If I can catch it before it gets out of
hand, he doesn't even remember it happened."

Scully studied her hands again.  "Since my abduction, sometimes the
nightmares are about me, not Samantha."

Skinner nodded and cleared his throat.  He decided not to admit that
after seeing her so pale in her hospital bed after she was returned
that he'd had his share of nightmares too.

"Well, that's understandable.  You didn't see how he was while you
were gone, Scully."  Skinner paused and then took a chance. "He cares
for you a great deal."

Scully looked at her boss for a long moment. Then she looked down at
her hands again. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know what it was you
saw.  I can imagine how it must have looked." She attempted a small
laugh.
"There are enough rumors about us at the bureau as it is."

Skinner stood and opened his mouth to reassure her of his
understanding and to say goodnight.

"NO!!!"  Mulder's screams broke the silence along with a loud
crash. "NO! Please-"

Scully dashed through the connecting door with Skinner close behind.

Mulder stood beside the bed in green boxer briefs, his hair standing
up in a hundred different directions, a broken lamp at his feet and
his hazel eyes wide with confusion.

When Scully appeared in his room, he was visibly relieved. "Thank
God, Scully.  I-I don't know where I am.  Am I awake? You were taken -
 but...That's not right, is it? I-"

She interrupted him with a hand on his arm.  "It's just a bad dream,
Mulder.  We're in Iowa on a case and I'm right here.  Come on, let's
get you back to bed.  It'll all be clearer in the morning."

Mulder's gaze flickered to Skinner as Scully gently urged his lanky
form to bed, "You're never in my nightmares.  Why are you here?" His
gaze returned to Scully. "Why's Skinner here, Scully?" Mulder's voice
was the voice of a small child who wanted to know why the sky was
blue.

Scully looked in Mulder's eyes as she sat by his side.

"I don't know, Mulder. It's your dream.  Why is Skinner here?"  She
brushed a lock of hair back from his face.

Mulder thought for a moment and then suddenly smiled.  "I know.  I
brought him here to protect you.  I don't know why I didn't do this
before.  He'll watch you while I sleep."  Mulder shut his eyes, happy.

Scully couldn't help it.  She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Mulder, I
can take care of myself."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Mulder said with his eyes still closed, "that's
what you always say. But I'm not letting you go again. I love you too
much to let that happen."

Scully gasped and pointedly did not look at Skinner.

Mulder continued to mumble, his voice becoming weaker and
weaker.  "You'll take care of her for me, right?  You'll keep her
safe while I sleep? Just a little while, not too long..." Mulder's
voice began to fade and he laid back against the pillow, turning on
his side, "I just need a little rest.."

"I'll take care of her, Mulder. Just get some sleep," Skinner said
softly.  Scully looked up at him with an unreadable expression.  Then
she resumed stroking Mulder's hair until she was sure he was sleeping.

Skinner and Scully softly snuck out of the room into the hallway.

They stood in silence, unsure of what to say.

"I'll see the two of you in the morning," Skinner said in his 'boss'
voice.  He began to walk away.

After a few strides, he turned around.  Scully stood watching him.
Her red hair was mussed, her pajamas baggy and her feet bare.
Skinner allowed himself to admire her beauty for a moment, noting
that her toenails were painted bright pink.  The word "cute" popped
into his mind and he fought the smile before it made it to his face.
He looked back up into her blue eyes. He allowed himself to feel a
moment of envy for the bond between Mulder and Scully.  "And don't
worry.  None of this happened."

Skinner continued on his way.  And he didn't look back.
*****************************************************
 
 

I've thought of continuing this, what do you think?  Let me know...

shawntaw@hotmail.com
 
 
 
 

________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________

Title: Safe Harbor Series: Part II
Author:shawntaw
Category: MSR, Mulder/Scully/Skinner friendship, X-File
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Still not mine. Darn.

Summary: While helping Mulder and Scully profile a killer, Skinner
learns more about his agents' special bond and deals with his own mid-
life crisis.

IMPORTANT NOTES:  THIS IS OFFICIALLY A SERIES, THANKS TO ALL THE
WONDERFUL FEEDBACK ASKING FOR MORE! :)  READ "SAFE HARBOR" FIRST IF
YOU WANT TO UNDERSTAND THIS ONE...:)

**********************************************************************

RIIING!....RIIING!.....RIIING!....

The call came too early for Skinner's liking.  He groped for the
blurry telephone and answered it gruffly.

"Hello?"

"Wake-up call, sir? You put in for a wake-up call at 7am?"

"Oh, yeah.  Thank you."  He growled and hung up.

Skinner threw his legs over the edge of the bed and wearily
stretched, wincing at the ache in his back from sitting up too late
hunched over file after file.

He reached for his wire-rim glasses and placed them on his nose,
bringing the hotel room into immediate focus.

Standing with a mild protest from his knees, he shuffled into the
bathroom and regarded his reflection.

*I don't know why I always look; It isn't going to change.*

"I'm fifty," he said aloud to his reflection as he had for every
morning the past two weeks, "get over it already."

He stretched again, took a deep breath and padded back out of the
bathroom.

Skinner lowered himself to the floor and did his morning push-ups and
sit-ups.

He took a quick shower, replaced his glasses on his face, brushed his
teeth and stood in front of the mirror again to smooth down what
little hair he retained with his comb.

He got dressed in his suit and tie and then took one last look at the
man in the mirror.

*Assistant Director Skinner, at your service*

He sighed, put his keys in his pocket, and left the hotel room.

***************************************************

Mulder sat across from him, oblivious, shoveling bacon and eggs into
his mouth.  Apparently, the previous night's activities had not
affected his appetite.

Skinner and Scully watched him - one faintly stunned, the other
amused.

"Does he always eat like that?" Skinner quirked one eyebrow at Scully.

The three had agreed to meet at the little diner across from the
hotel for breakfast and sat now, enjoying their morning meal.

Mulder had ordered the largest, greasiest, platter of bacon, eggs,
hash browns, pancakes and toast that Skinner had ever seen.

Scully sat sedately eating her plate of fruit and sipping her juice.

Skinner looked down at his second bowl of cereal and tall glass of
orange juice, and looked back up at Scully again.

She nodded, smiling.  "It all goes to his feet," she jibed.

"Hey," Mulder said around a mouthful of eggs, "I'm sitting right
here, you know."  He chewed and swallowed.

"Besides, I run.  I play basketball. I swim.  I'm entitled."

To emphasize his point, he took a big swig of his chocolate milk.

Scully just shook her head in defeat, "I don't know how many times
I've told you that at your age you don't have the metabolism you used
to.  You eat like you're seventeen years old.  It is going to catch
up with you, Mulder."

She turned to Skinner for support.  He was eye-balling Mulder's food
with envy.

Scully sighed. *Boys will be boys.*

"So," Mulder's voice interrupted her thoughts," when do we meet with
the local SAC?"

"9:30," Skinner said, pushing away his cereal.  Suddenly, he didn't
want it anymore.  Living vicariously through Mulder, he had really
enjoyed that bacon.  He took a drink of his orange juice and
continued, "He's meeting us at the first dump site."

"The profiling team?" Mulder finished off his chocolate milk and
without thinking, Scully reached over and swiped at his milk mustache
with her thumb.

Embarrassed at her impulse, she cleaned her thumb on her napkin as
Mulder gave her a startled half-smile.

Skinner cleared his throat.  "We're meeting with the profiling team
at 11 and then a working lunch with the SAC."

"Are you ready to tell us why you're here, sir?"

Mulder was looking at him frankly.

*He really thinks I have a clear-cut reason for being here*

Skinner took off his glasses and cleaned them carefully with the edge
of a napkin.

"I actually just wanted to get out in the field for a change," he
said, hoping it didn't sound too lame.

He put his glasses back on, "I just thought I'd see if I could be of
some help."

"Well, we're glad to have you, sir," Scully jumped in.  He could
practically see her kicking Mulder under the table as he piped in.

"Of course we are, sir.  We just assumed-"

"That I was checking up on you.  Well, I'm not."

Mulder and Scully were staring at him.  Skinner stared right back.

***************************************************

At first, the authorities didn't know they had a serial killer on
their hands.

The first victim was found outside his residence on October 20th,
1998. The cause of death was obviously a execution-style gunshot to
the head.

The autopsy showed the victim had been drugged, moved to an unknown
location, starved and dehydrated, and then shot dead.  The victim had
then been dumped in front of his apartment building.

The police had no clues to go on.  No witnesses.  The murder was
unsolved.

***************************************************

When another man was murdered on October 20th the following year, the
police didn't make the connection.

The local coroner inquired about the similarities to a case the year
before, but was barely listened to.

Again the victim had been sedated, moved, starved and dehydrated and
then shot through the head.  And dumped in front of his parents'
house where he lived.
****************************************************

It was only when it happened a third time that the local police
reluctantly admitted to having a serial killer on their hands and
called in the F.B.I.

The M.O. on the third victim was exactly the same as the first two,
with one exception.

The third victim had been given water.

**************************************************

"Yeah, Scully noticed that too," Mulder's voice startled Skinner out
of his reverie as he re-read the case files.

"What?"

Mulder gestured to where Skinner's finger rested on the anomoly he
had been reading about in the third victim.

"Scully, noticed that the third victim wasn't dehydrated like the
others.  He was given fluids."

Skinner felt deflated, but tried not to let it show.

"Oh, so you already knew.  It was such a small notation and I didn't
hear the two of you mention it last night.."

Mulder regarded him with a slight frown, noting the small note of
defeat in Skinner's voice.

"Sir, is something wrong?"

"No, Agent Mulder, nothing's wrong."

Skinner stood as Scully returned from the restroom.

"Ok, I'm ready to go," she said.

The three of them threw some money on the table for their meals and
strode out of the small diner.

*************************************************

It had been a very long day.  The three of them had been to each
crime scene and given a detailed summary of the findings at each one
by the Special Agent in Charge.

Then the meeting with the profiling team.

The group of men from the Violent Crimes Unit were none too pleased
that "Spooky" Mulder had been called in, but seemed anxious to catch
the killer nonetheless.  They each answered Mulder's questions to the
best of their abilities.

The working lunch with the SAC was a "crunch" session with ideas and
theories flying around the table like spitwads as everyone inhaled
their deli sandwiches.

Skinner, Mulder, and Scully had been present at the exhuming of the
bodies and then Scully had gone off to redo the autopsies.

The two men sat in a conference room at the police station discussing
the case and trying out different theories until Mulder's stomach
growled - LOUDLY.

Skinner was exhausted.

And Mulder was mumbling to himself again. Just loud enough to be
annoying, but not quite loud enough for Skinner to understand what he
was saying.

*If he doesn't stop soon, I am going to reach across the table and
throttle him.*

Skinner saw himself suddenly reach across and grab Mulder by the
necktie, "STOP!"

"Sir?"

Skinner blinked the image away and stifled a yawn.  He looked at his
watch as he answered Mulder, "What?"

It was 11:34 p.m.

The Denny's the two of them were eating at was practically deserted.
Skinner sipped his black coffee and raised his eyebrow at Mulder.

"Just wondering where you were.  Something about the case bothering
you?"

Skinner's eyebrow climbed even further.

"EVERYTHING about this case bothers me.  No clues, no witnesses...and
October 20th is just around the corner."

Mulder turned back to the files he had been mumbling over and
nodded.  The frown wrinkles reappeared on his forehead.

"Well, maybe Scully will have something for us when she's done
redoing the autopsies."  He looked at his watch.

"She oughta be calling it a night pretty soon and turning up at the
hotel."

Skinner wondered if Mulder was thinking about his nightmares.  He
wondered if Mulder even knew he'd starting having them on this case.

Had Scully told him what happened last night?

**************************************************

Mulder and Skinner were spread out in Mulder's room, discussing the
case.

"Ok, but why these three guys?  What's the connection?"

"Could they be random?"

"I don't think so.  The body types are too similar.  All-American.
Ex-jocks in their 30's.  Same day every year....must be significant
somehow...connection to killer..sporting goods store?...a
birthday...a death anniversary...starvation and
dehydration...weakening...punishment?..hmm.."

Skinner sighed.  There went Mulder again.  Mumbling, staring down at
the file in his lap and pulling on his bottom lip.

*So, this is why they call him "Spooky."*

"The killer is punishing someone...punishing the victims for their
strength..that's why the UNSUB weakens them..then they aren't worth
the trouble anymore..quick death..shot to the head..but-"

The door to the hotel room opened and Scully wearily entered.

"Scully!" Mulder suddenly came back to Earth.

"Hey, find anything?"

Scully looked wearily at him for a moment.

"Fine, Mulder, and how are you?  Dinner? Oh, no, I haven't had any,
but, hey, don't worry about me-"

Mulder interrupted her sarcastic rambling by jabbing a styrofoam
container at her.

"Fruit platter, now gimme.  Whatcha got?"

She took the food from him. " I sure have had a lot of fruit today.
Tomorrow I'm indulging in a burger."  She jabbed a piece of
cantaloupe and ate it hungrily.

"I found all the same things that the coroner before me did, with one
exception.  There are traces of cologne on each of the victims'
bodies."

Mulder and Skinner looked at one another.

"What's so unusual about that?" Skinner said, "Men wear cologne."

Scully waved her fork in agreement and nodded.

"Which is why the previous coroner didn't mention it, " she said with
her mouth full, "BUT the cologne on each victim seems to be the same
one. AND-"

She swallowed and paused. "Well, this part is pure conjecture on my
part.."

Mulder lit up.  "I am rubbing off on you!"

Scully shot him a withering look.

"What? What did you find, Scully?" Mulder wheedled, serious.

"I-I could swear that the cologne was more like women's perfume.  It
seemed very sweet.  The scent still lingered on the third victims
clothing that had been sealed in a plastic evidence bag.  I needed to
compare some fibers found on the body with that of the victim's
clothing and when I opened the bag.."

She shook her head.

"I swear it smelled like women's perfume."

The two men stared at Scully open-mouthed.

Skinner said it first, "A female serial killer."

**********************************************************************
*****

He felt himself smiling as he watched Scully sleep.  She was slumped
against the headboard, red hair falling across her face.  The lamp
cast a soft glow across her dozing figure and the files that lay open
on her lap.

Skinner suddenly became aware of Mulder's eyes on him.  He shifted
his gaze from Scully's sleeping form to Mulder's penetrating
appraisal.

*Why do I feel like apologizing for looking at Scully?*

To his surprise, Mulder suddenly smiled.  "She can fall asleep
anywhere.  Don't tell our boss, " He said in mock seriousness, "but
she even falls asleep on stakeouts."

"That's o.k., " Skinner rejoined, "I hear her partner covers for her."

Mulder chuckled a little and his eyes moved affectionately to Scully.

The three of them had been going over the files yet again with the
thought in mind that they were dealing with a female serial killer.
Mulder thought the change in perspective might reveal further clues
from the information.

So far, no luck.

"I guess we better call it a night," Mulder said, finally, "Scully'll
kill me if I pull my 'profiler crap', as she calls it, and stay up
all night."

He stood, stretched and strode to the bed where Scully slumbered.

Skinner watched them from the corner of his eye as he gathered files
and threw away take-out containers from their midnight snack.

**********************************************************************

"Scully?" Mulder gently reached out and brushed her hair back from
her face in his customary fashion.

She started, looked confused for a moment, and then sat up.

"I-I must have fallen asleep.  What time is it?"

Mulder carefully took the files from her and stacked them on the
bedside table.

"It's 2:30 in the morning," he held out his hand, "Here, let me help
you up."

Scully stood and wobbled blearily on her feet.

"Oh-" she clutched Mulder's arm for balance, "Thanks."

"Scully, take off the stilts.  You're only going next door and you're
gonna kill yourself walking on those things half-asleep."

He sat her back down on the edge of the bed and knelt down to take
the shoes from her feet.

Skinner couldn't shake the tender feeling toward his agents as he
witnessed the intimate, almost worshipful, gesture.

"Ok, Mulder, but no short jokes," she muttered around a yawn and took
the proferred shoes from his hands.

Mulder chuckled under his breath and helped her to the connecting
door between their two rooms.

"'night, Scully."

"'night, Mulder."

And she was gone.

********************************************************************

Mulder seemed unaware of how much had just been revealed of his
relationship with Scully.

Skinner realized that Mulder was unaware himself of the nature of his
relationship with Scully.

The thought made Skinner sad for the younger man.

"Well, Mulder, I'll see you and Agent Scully in the morning."

Mulder walked him to the door, commenting that he was tired and
looking forward to getting some sleep.

But Skinner knew Mulder would be up all night, staring at the
pictures of the dead and trying to crawl inside the mind of a killer.

**********************************************************************
****

Scully woke abruptly to the feeling of someone in the room with her.

She felt goosebumps rise over her skin.

A dark figure walked closer and closer...

She took in a sharp breath to scream and flailed her hand out to the
night table in search of her gun-

The familiar scent of sunflower seeds, aftershave, and sweat caught
her attention.

"Mulder?"

A small sob sounded from the dark.

"I can still hear your voice," he whispered.

"Mulder?" she said again and leaned over to click on the lamp.

He stood at her bedside, looking utterly forlorn.  He still wore his
suit.

The tye was loose, his sleeves rolled up, and the jacket was missing,
but it was obvious that Mulder had fallen asleep in his clothes.

"Mulder, are you awake?"

He stared at her.

"I AM going crazy.  I can SEE you." His voice trembled and his eyes
were wide.

She reached out and took his hand.  He flinched.

"Mulder, you were dreaming.  I'm here.  I'm not going anywhere."

"You were taken," he insisted quietly, but his eyes were riveted to
their entwined hands.

Scully was nodding, "But I'm back now.  It's o.k."

She tugged on his hand and he sat on the edge of the bed.

"You're back?" He seemed unconvinced.

She was nodding again and stroking the back of his hand with her
thumb.

"Let me help you back to bed, Mulder."

Scully was getting out of her bed and pulling him to his feet.

He took her by surprise by standing and taking her into his embrace.

"..never let you go.." he was muttering into her hair.

Scully allowed herself to relax into him for a moment, cherishing the
feel of his warm arms around her.

She felt secure, protected, loved.

His heart beat steadily under her cheek.  The rhythm of it nearly
lulled her back to sleep.  His hand stroked her hair, softly.

She felt him sway on his feet and realized he was dozing off where he
stood.

"Come on, Mulder.  Let's get you back to bed."

Scully led him through the connecting door with no resistance.   He
merely stared at her through exhausted, mournful eyes.

She removed his tye, belt, shoes and socks.

"Lay down, Mulder," she ordered gently with a hand on his chest.

He laid back, still watching her.

When she turned off the light, she heard him gasp.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"Nothing."

"Mulder-"

"I can't see you.  I'm not sure if I'm dreaming or not.  I-I think
I'm awake.  We're on a case- right, Scully?  And-and I think I'm
having the damn nightmares again."

"That's right, Mulder," she answered softly into the darkness.

"And Skinner's with us, isn't he?" His breath blew out in an audible
gush, "I hope he doesn't find out about this.  They already think I'm
nuts at the Bureau as it is."

"Just go to sleep.  It'll be alright," Scully skirted the subject.

Silence. Then-

"Stay."

She was going to say no, she really was, but-

She was really tired of saying no.

"Ok. Scoot over, Mulder.  And don't hog the covers."

She could feel him smile in the darkness.

*******************************************************************

Title: Happiness - The Secret II
Author: shawntaw
Category: MSR, AU
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be. *Sigh*

Summary: A well-kept secret?

Note: I am having a blast writing this!! Whomever suggested I
turn "Happiness" into a series - I should give you a big hug and a
kiss!!:)
 

If you are reading this without reading "Happiness," "Happiness - The
Morning After," and  "Happiness - The Secret" first, you may be a
mite confused...

****************************************************

"Coffee, Mulder?"  Scully held out a large styrofoam cup.

"Thanks," he took it from her with a cocky half-smile.

"Hey, Scully, nice ring.  Is it new?" he asked loud enough for those
around them in line to hear.

"Yes, thanks for noticing, Mulder," she smiled at him, pleased.

The two agents took their coffees and strode calmly toward the
elevators.

******************************************

"I can't believe you wore it, Scully!" Mulder pounced on her as soon
as the elevator doors closed.

She grinned from ear to ear.

"It is my engagement ring; I wanted to wear it."

He pulled her up to him until her feet dangled above the floor and
kissed her until they were both gasping for breath.

"Why-why do I get the feeling that you've been wanting to do that for
a long time?" she breathed.

"Because I have," he said as he gently lowered her back to
Earth, "Can't always be hunching over. I'll give myself a bad back."

The elevator dinged and the two of them sprang apart.

When the doors opened, the two agents stood their usual distance
apart, discussing the paperwork they needed to get done first thing
this morning.

Kimberly, two other secretaries, and a male agent stepped onto the
elevator.

Kim nodded a greeting at each one and started to look away.  She did
a double-take at Mulder and stared.

The other people on the elevator were involved in a conversation
about an outrageous expense report turned in by a field agent and
hadn't yet noticed Kimberly's silence.

Kimberly reached out a tenative hand and brushed Mulder's arm.  He
and Scully looked up, startled.

Kimberly looked nervously at her companions to make sure they weren't
looking and brushed her thumb across her lips.

Mulder's eyebrows arched and Scully looked shocked.

She stared meaningfully at Mulder's lips and again wiped her thumb
across her own.

Mulder looked embarrassed and Scully was getting livid.
She opened her mouth to say something-

"Whoa, Spooky! You and the Missus need to be more careful!" The male
agent was leering at them.

Kimberly cringed. *Too late.*

Scully looked up at Mulder in confusion and gasped.

He had lipstick smeared across his full bottom lip where she had
kissed him.

The elevator entourage' were giggling among themselves as the doors
opened on their floor and they disembarked.

Kimberly lingered long enough to whisper. "I'm sorry.  I tried to
tell you."

Mulder and Scully both gave her understanding looks as the doors shut.
 ***************************************************

The doors opened in the basement to the arguing couple.

"Well, we stink at keeping secrets," Mulder was saying as he wiped
his lips with his hankerchief. "It'll be all over the Bureau in no
time and then they'll separate us."

Scully sighed.  Mulder was in full "doom and gloom" mode.

"Mulder, they only suspect that we kissed.  They don't know for a
fact that we kissed and they certainly don't know we're engaged!"

"Oh, please!  The rumor mill does not deal in facts, Scully.  I might
as well put out an e-mail announcement: 'Now here this - This weekend
Agent Scully and I consumated our relationship, admitted we love one
another and are getting married.  Thank you for your attention.'

Scully was turning the doorknob to open their basement
office, "Mulder-"

They both stopped in their tracks.

A.D. Skinner stood in the middle of the office holding a file folder,
a distinctly uncomfortable look on his usually stern face.

The three regarded each other, not knowing what to say.
Skinner cleared his throat and set the folder on Mulder's desk, "So,
apparently you two had an interesting weekend.."

Scully's face burned bright red.  Mulder threw up his hands in defeat.

"As I said, we stink at secrets."

Skinner's hand reached out to grab Mulder's shoulder as he paced by.

"Agent Mulder, I didn't hear a thing.  I certainly didn't hear
anything that would put a perfectly productive partnership in
jeopardy should my superiors find out. But-"

At this Skinner smiled warmly.

"-congratulations to you both."

He patted Mulder's shoulder and turned to leave the room.  On his
way, he lifted the right hand of the very stunned Agent Scully and
scrutinized the ring.

"Very nice," he commented, smiled at her and left.

*****************************************************

They both stood in silence for a few seconds after Skinner left,
collecting their thoughts.

"Ok," Scully started, "damage control.  Who knows about this?"

Mulder fell heavily into his chair and it creaked ominously.

"Definitely Skinner."

Scully nodded, " And probably Kimberly. Oh, and my mother."

Mulder sat up straight, "Your mother?"

"She remember seeing the ring before-"

"When you were abducted," Mulder finished, closing his eyes.  "I had
almost forgotten about that."

They both sighed.

"Well, most of the important people in our lives know about it.  We
might as well tell the rest of them."

Scully stared at Mulder.

"I thought you were worried about us being separated."

Mulder nodded, "I was, but Skinner basically just told us he's going
to turn a blind eye. And as long as the higher ups don't know-"
Mulder grinned and shrugged a shoulder.

"So, we're not keeping it a deep, dark, secret...just a selective
secret?" Scully grinned back.

"Exactly."

Scully suddenly went serious, her eyes darkening. "Mulder-"

He sat up in his chair again. "Scully, what is it?"

"This is personal, but-"

"Personal? Scully, I've asked you to marry me, nothings personal
between us anymore.  What is it?"

"Mulder, do you have any family at all you'd like to tell?  I mean, I
know you've lost your parents, but isn't there anyone? An aunt?
Grandparents? Someone?"

Mulder rocked back in his chair and regarded her solemnly.

"Scully, its o.k.; I'm not going to fall apart if you remind me I
don't have any family.  I already know that.  And, no, there is no
one left.  No aunts. No grandparents.  You're looking at the last
Mulder."

Scully walked over to him and leaned down to look into his eyes.

"Not anymore." she promised.

*******************************************************
Title: Safe Harbor Part III
Author: shawntaw
Category: MSR, Mulder/Scully/Skinner friendship, x-file
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I can dream...

Summary: Skinner has some startling realizations about his favorite
agents and the case begins to heat up..

NOTES: Thank you, thank you, thank you for the feedback!!:)
******************************************************

There was a fly buzzing around her face.

Scully swatted at it and rubbed the tickled skin on her temple.

"Hmmph," she muttered and nuzzled into her warm pillow.

She heard a very soft chuckle and began to slowly drift toward
wakefulness.

The fly tickled her chin and then her left cheek.

"..hmmphk..fly swatter.." she tried to say and cracked open her eyes.

The chuckle was louder this time and accompanied by a puff of warm
air across her face.

She wrinkled her nose and squinted.

"You've got morning breath, Mulder."

His bleary face came into focus over her's.  He had stubble over his
cheeks and chin and dark circles under his eyes.  He looked
exhausted, but pleased.

"So do you, Scully," he grinned and brushed his lips across her
forehead one last time, "Good morning."

She yawned, rubbed the new tickly spot Mulder had left on her face,
and started to sit up, but couldn't.

Her legs and Mulder's were wrapped around one another, her arm was
underneath him and his arm around her.

Scully carefully disentangled herself.

"Sorry," she muttered, embarrassed as she got out of the bed.

Mulder simply watched her with soft eyes as she padded across the
room in her baggy pajamas to his bathroom.

"I'm not," he said softly as she closed the door.

*****************************************************

*Mulder seems much more subdued this morning.  I wonder if he had
another one of his nightmares?*

Skinner watched Mulder slowly eat his toast.  This morning Mulder had
just ordered toast and chocolate milk.

*He looks pale.  I think this case is getting to him.*

Scully didn't look too much better.  She was quiet and kept glancing
at Mulder and then quickly looking away.

She picked at her muffin, disinterested.

"Well," Skinner said so suddenly that the other two jumped, "I know
you probably sat up looking over the files after I left, Mulder, so
what did you find?"

Mulder shrugged and looked up at his boss.

"I worked up a tenative profile-"

"Tenative is better than nothing, Mulder.  What is your theory?"

"Well, female serial killer, age 25-35, comes in contact with all
three men who are all three ex-jocks and athletic.  So, I'm thinking
she works at a sporting goods store or batting cage or somewhere were
all three men worked out or hung out. Something to do with their
involvement in athletics, working out."

Mulder began to liven up as he delved into the killer's mind.

"She's punishing them.  Punishing their strength. Has to be. Why else
would she drain them of their strength before killing them?"

He frustratedly took a large bite of toast.

"Motive.  That's what's killing me - motive.  Could it be a
simple "Female wants to punish dominant Male Society' thing?  It
doesn't FEEL that simple..."

Mulder was muttering and drifting off again.  Scully reached over and
put her hand on his arm.  He came back to himself and looked up at
her.

"Anyway, I'd like to look through receipts and bank records for the
three victims - look for a connection.  And I'd like to speak to
friends, co-workers," Mulder said looking at Skinner.

"A lot of that was done by the officers originally, Mulder.  No
connection was found."

"Yeah, well, I'm doing it again."

Skinner regarded the man with sympathetic eyes.

"Mulder, did you get any sleep last night?"

The younger man blinked at him defiantly. "Enough."

"Well, you look like hell," Skinner said, not pulling any punches.

"Thanks," Mulder responded, sarcastically.

"Mulder," Skinner continued, "all I'm saying is that you are going to
collapse if you don't get enough rest.  Don't let this case get to
you, o.k.?"

Mulder nodded curtly, not meeting Skinner's eyes.  Scully gave her
boss a brief, grateful look and then studiously looked away.

*She's worried about him*

Skinner frowned.  He was too.

**************************************************

But Mulder was right.  After re-searching each victim's residence,
the connection was found.

Vitamins.

Each victim took vitamins and diet supplements in order to "bulk up."

Receipts revealed that the victims bought their vitamins from two
different mail-order companies.

On the surface, this wasn't a lead.  But further digging, at Mulder's
insistance, revealed that the companies were one and the same.

The vitamin company that the first two victims had made their
purchases from had gone through a name change four months before the
last victim's death.

Mulder spread out the crinkled receipts in front of him on the table
in his room.

He steepled his fingers and stared at them.

He waited.

Waited for that flash of insight.  For that inspiration.

The clock ticked.

He sat in the quiet room, hardly breathing, every fact he'd read
running through his mind.

Every face of each interviewee.  Every nuance of their body language.

*Lying? Telling the truth? Hiding something?*

Mulder mentally judged each one.

The clock ticked.

He sat with fingers steepled and stared at nothing.

******************************************************

Scully and Skinner rode in the car in silence, each lost in their own
thoughts.

"Maybe we shouldn't have left him alone," Scully suddenly said.

Skinner sighed.

"I was just thinking the same thing, but he's right.  We can't
babysit him when there's work that needs to be done.  He's right.
He's a grown man."

*Who am I trying to convince? Her or myself?*

"Well, I just want to get this over with and get back-" Scully
stopped speaking, worried she'd revealed too much.  She scrunched
down into the passenger-side seat and stared out the window and the
passing scenery.

*She loves him*

The thought struck Skinner from nowhere, but had the power to take
his breath away.

*******************************************************

"I just need some time alone to review the facts, make some
connections.  Honest, I'll be fine.  Go track down the owner of the
mail-order company.  Call me if you find anything.  But, Scully,"
Mulder had looked at her with intensity in his hazel eyes, "our perp
isn't a man."

Scully shook her head.

She wondered how he could be so sure.

*That's why they call him 'Spooky'*

Scully thought back to a case in their early years together.

"Spooky? Do ya think I'm spooky?" Mulder's voice echoed in her head.

Back then, she hadn't been sure what to think of him.

The car was coming to a stop.  Scully pulled herself out of her
reverie and prepared to meet the owner of the mail order company.

To her surprise, as she reached for her door handle it opened.

Skinner offered her a helping hand out of the car with a look on his
face that Scully couldn't fathom.

*******************************************************

Of all the people they had interviewed today, only 4 had been women.

Mulder reviewed the list in his head.

2 co-workers.  1 girlfriend.  1 mother.

*It wasn't them..It wasn't them..the killer is angry..bitter..maybe
abused..damaged goods..*

The wary faces of the co-workers floated behind his closed eyes.  Sad
and traumatized girlfriend.  Mourning mother.

*It wasn't them...*

*****************************************************

Scully and Skinner sat across the table from the small, spare man who
owned the mail order vitamin company.

Skinner found it laughable that such a puny, old man sold promises of
strength to the young and vital.

He pushed his glasses up on his nose and pinned the man with his eyes.

"Why did you change the name of your company from-" Skinner looked
down at the paper in front of him, "'Bulk Up Vitamins' to 'Smart Move
Vitamins' four months ago, Mr. Bernard?"

The man swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing prominently on his thin
neck.

"I was worried about legal concerns.  A lawyer friend of mine said I
could be sued if someone didn't get the bulk they wanted from
vitamins called 'Bulk Up.'  So, I changed it.  Did I not file the
proper paperwork or something?"

"No sir, that's not why we are here.  Do you recognize any of these
men?"

Skinner placed photographs of the victims on the table in front of
the man.  Scully simply stood to one side watching, arms crossed at
her chest.

"Um, no. But all my business is through the mail. They could be
customers."

"Do you recognize these names?"

The man read the list thrust in front of him.

"Yes! These guys are some of my biggest customers. Well, were.  The
first two stopped ordering a while ago and the third one hasn't
ordered in about a year.  But, yeah, I don't have a lot of customers
that ordered as much as these guys. Couldn't forget those names." He
attempted a smile at the two agents.

They didn't smile back.

This man wasn't their UNSUB and they both knew it.

****************************************************

*Damn! Why couldn't it be cut and dry?*

Skinner was nursing a pounding headache.  He pushed his glasses up
and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Scully was staring into the passing darkness as they drove back to
their hotel in Burton, Iowa.

He knew she was thinking of Mulder.

"Why don't you call him on your cell?"

She seemed startled. "What?"

"Mulder.  If you're that worried, just call him."

She shook her head stubbornly.  "He wouldn't appreciate it."

He looked heavenward before returning his eyes to the road.

"Let's review the case," he suggested.

She nodded, staring again out her window.

"Mulder's pretty sure the perp is a woman.  I agree that the mail
order thing is the connection, but obviously not through the guy who
runs it.  So, how?  This is the only connection that was found
between the victims, but how is it significant? That is the problem.."

Scully was now frowning in thought.

"The guy runs the place by himself," she said, "No help, no delivery
people, no telephone people, no secretaries.."

Skinner shook his head negative as she ticked off the facts they
already knew.

The car swerved and screeched on the dark road.

Scully clutched her seat and gave out a small yelp.

"Delivery people!?" Skinner shouted as he gained control of the car.

"WHAT?!" Scully shouted back, looking at him as though he'd lost his
mind.

Skinner pulled the car to the side of the road, put it in park and
turned to face Scully with excitement evident on his face.

"In a place like Burton, Iowa isn't there a chance that the same
delivery person was used to deliver the vitamins the victims
ordered?  I mean, it isn't that large of an area."

Scully was nodding with her mouth hanging open in realization.

"It could be a post office worker, UPS, Federal Express..we need to
find out who the vitamin guy used!" she practically shouted.

Skinner pulled back onto the road and headed back to Burton, double-
time.

*******************************************************

And the beat goes on....

*****************************************************

The killer lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, breathing in short
quick breaths.

The time was getting near.

*October 20th, my birthday.  Not long now.  Another sacrifice.  Happy
now, Dad?  Happy now?!  That'll show you...one less...kill them
all..that'll show you...*

A pitiful sob sounded in the darkness.

******************************************************

Skinner was driving fast.  Too fast.  He could feel the adrenaline
pumping through his veins.

He remembered this feeling.

The case was moving forward.  They had a lead.  They needed to jump
on it right away.

Scully white-knuckled the dashboard. "Uh, sir? Could you slow down a
bit?  We're not going to do anyone a bit of good dead."

He very deliberately released some of the pressure on the accelerator.

"Sorry, but we finally have a lead," He hit the steering wheel with
the palm of his hand, "FINALLY."

Scully tried to relax and smiled at her boss.

He looked like a kid who'd just opened his most-wished-for Christmas
present.

"You really did miss being in the field, didn't you, sir?"

Skinner arched an eyebrow and glanced over at her.

He tried to remain nonchalant, but an un-Skinner-like smile crept
across his features.

"I guess I did."

"So, that really WAS the reason you came with us.  There isn't any
secret agenda here," she stated.

"I told you and Agent Mulder that there wasn't, " Skinner said, a
little miffed about not being trusted and reverting into his 'formal
mode.'

"We know, sir, but you have to admit it was unusual for you to
accompany us.  You've never done it before."

He glanced at Scully, back at the dark road, and back at her again.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "there might be something else to it,"
he admitted, reluctantly.

Scully recognized one of his nervous habits - throat-clearing - and
just KNEW if he had his hands free, he'd be cleaning his glasses -
another one of his nervous habits.

Her curiousity was peaked.

"What?"

He looked at her again as if debating whether to tell her or not.

*She'll think I'm an old fart.  An old fart having a mid-life crisis*

He sighed.

*I AM an old fart having a mid-life crisis*

"I turned fifty about two weeks ago," he blurted as casually as
possible.

Scully relaxed.  She hadn't known what to expect, but that wasn't it.

"Happy belated birthday, sir."

"Thanks." he was absurdly pleased.

"So, what? You were wondering if you could still be an effective
field agent?"

He smiled again. It sounded so much nicer the way she said it instead
of the way he thought it.

*I wonder if I still got it or if I'm a used-up old desk jockey?*

"Yeah, something like that."

Scully seemed to consider this for a moment.

"Well, sir, you are the one who came up with the delivery person
idea."

Scully pulled out a small notebook and a pen.  "So, wanna review the
case again?  Heck, it worked before."

Skinner nodded eagerly, glad to drop the subject of his birthday and
all the emotional baggage that it entailed.

He also recognized the compliment and his heart was warmed by it.

"Ok, so now we've got a suspected female serial killer, age 25-35,
probably a delivery person in the Burton, Iowa area.  She picks
young, athletic, guys who like to buy a lot of vitamins.  She kills
one victim on October 20th every year, which means this date is
significant somehow.  We're going to find out which delivery service
the 'Smart Move Vitamin Company' uses and start narrowing down and
interviewing suspects.  I mean, how many people can there be making
deliveries in Burton, Iowa?"

Skinner was nodding.  *The ol' synapses are really firing now*

"Oh," he interrupted, "We also need to look at recent customers of
the vitamin company as potential victims for this upcoming October
20th.  Maybe stakeout those with big deliveries recently?"

Scully was nodding her head now, and writing in her notebook.

She tapped the pen on her knee and stared into space for a moment.

"You know what keeps bothering me?  The third victim.  The one who
wasn't dehydrated.  That HAS to be significant somehow; I just can't
figure out how."

She sighed.  "Sometimes I wish I could make those 'connections' like
Mulder - Oh, Mulder!"

Scully pulled out her cellphone.  "We should tell him about all of
this!"

Skinner was turning onto their exit. "And tell him we'll be there in
about 30 minutes."

Scully let the phone ring at least 10 times.

Mulder didn't answer.

**********************************************************************

Mulder's lean, muscular legs pumped up and down as he ran for all he
was worth.

His lungs felt like they were going to burst, but he ran harder.

The cool wind caused his eyes to tear up, clouding his vision.

Mulder's bare arms swung, pushing him faster, faster..

He finally slowed and then stopped, gasping for air.
 

Sometimes a good, hard run cleared his head.

Tonight it didn't seem to be working.
 

He hunched over and clutched his bent knees, sweat dripping from his
damp hair, lean and athletic in his jogging shorts and sleeveless
gray sweatshirt.

A figure watched from the shadows along the side of the street,
holding a dog on a leash and not believing the fortune of having
found the lamb so close to home.

The perfect sacrifice.

**********************************************************************
Mwa ha ha ha! - (evil laugh)....SORRY, JUST SEEMED REALLY APPROPRIATE
HERE....*L*

Summary: Has Mulder become the killer's next victim?
******************************************************

Scully practically ran down the hallway to her hotel room, Skinner
hot on her heels.

*I'm sure he just went for something to eat.  That's why he didn't
answer his room phone.  And he probably turned off his cellphone.*

She listed reasons in her head for Mulder's silence.

But she couldn't shake the picture of him collapsed on the floor
having some sort of 'episode' triggered by this case.

*Its never happened when he's not sleeping.  Its never happened
during the day.  But what if it has and I'm not there?*

She keyed into her room as Skinner practically breathed down her neck.

The two of them plummeted into the hotel room and ran for the
connecting door.

Scully flung it open so hard that it bounced off of the wall.

"MULDER!"

Mulder stood in absolute stunned silence, obviously fresh from the
shower, nude, and drying his hair with a towel.

His eyes were round, hazel discs. "Scully?!"

She spun around immediately, colliding with Skinner's chest.

Mulder wrapped the towel around his waist that he'd been using to dry
his hair.

"Would somebody tell me what the hell is going on?"

********************************************************

Things were calming down.

Skinner regarded the two embarassed agents and tried not to smile
with amusement.

Mulder sat in sweatpants with his damp hair combed straight back. His
arms were crossed across his chest as he listened to Scully tell him
of she and Skinner's finding this afternoon.  He didn't meet her eyes.

No one brought up the episode that had just occured.

*Modus operandi with these two; selective memory*
Skinner shook his head and sighed.

Scully was looking at a point somewhere over Mulder's left shoulder
and blushing slightly as she spoke.

When she came to the part about Skinner's revelation, Mulder's
eyebrow rose and he gave Skinner a congratulatory look.

"Good catch, sir."

"Thank you, Agent Mulder," Skinner smiled slightly.

Mulder stretched and stood.  He paced.

"Ok, so we begin by finding out who the delivery people were for the
three victims.  And I say we let the locals assign someone to watch
the recent customers of the vitamin company."

Scully was tucking her notebook back in her coat pocket.

"Well, gentlemen, I think I've had enough excitement for one
evening.  If you two don't mind, I'm going to return to my room and
put my feet up."

Skinner stood and he and Mulder bid her goodnight.

Skinner wondered if Mulder also noticed the small tremor in her voice
as she said goodnight and left the room.

*****************************************************

He rolled his shoulders as he shut the door behind him and entered
his room.

It had been another long day.  He half-jokingly wondered if his heart
could take the amount of adrenaline that had rushed through his
bloodstream today.

Skinner paused and placed a hand over his heart.

Thumpthump...thumpthump...thumpthump..seemed o.k...

*Now that I'm fifty, I'm getting paranoid*

He knew there wasn't a thing wrong with his heart.

*You just had a physical.  Stop being stupid, Walter.*

Skinner tossed his jacket and gun on the chair and reached up to
loosen his tye.

He leaned over to click on the television.

*I need something to take my mind off the case for a while*

A football game caught his eye and, kicking off his shoes, he sat on
the bed and leaned up against the headboard to watch.

******************************************************

Someone was trying to sell him a waffle iron.  They were not going to
leave him alone until he bought a waffle iron.

"No thank you," he muttered, opening his eyes.

Skinner realized that he had fallen asleep and that an infomercial
was playing on the T.V.

He used the remote to turn it off, took off his glasses and put them
on the nightstand, and rolled over, drifting back to sleep.

*****************************************************

Sharon lay next to him in the darkness.  He could feel her warmth
from where he slumbered.

He breathed deeply in contentment.

*I haven't had this dream in ages*

He seemed to be floating, half-asleep.

Skinner opened one eye and then both when he realized that a blurry
form was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him sleep.

*I didn't lock the door?!*

Shocked at his lapse in judgement, he moved quickly to reach for his
glasses, but they were handed to him instead.

The form was Scully.

*****************************************************

"I didn't know whether to bother you or not, sir," she sat hesitantly
in her robe on the edge of his bed.

"Its Mulder.  He-he's worrying me."

Skinner reached over and turned on the lamp. He sat up.

"How so?"

She ran a hand through her already unruly hair.

"He's pacing...mumbling.  Keeps going on and on about the case.  When
I try to talk to him, he says the motive is driving him crazy, but
that he's close.  He tells me to leave him alone.  He's
acting...strange. Stranger than usual."

She shook her head and sighed, "I know it doesn't sound like much,
but-"

Skinner was already out of bed and putting his shoes back on.

"Not at all, Scully.  Give me a minute and I'll go with you."

She nodded, miserably, and waited.

******************************************************

Mulder was gone.

Scully and Skinner had returned to find him gone.

No note was apparent.

He didn't take his shoes or running clothes.

Half-eaten room service food lay still warm on his plate.

Scully stood speechless.

She pictured Mulder, in nothing but sweatpants, wandering the streets
of Burton and mumbling to himself.

*Was he sleep-walking?  Did he finally go over the edge?*

"No.." she heard herself say pleadingly.

Skinner put an arm around her shoulder.

"Let's not assume anything, Agent Scully.  That's what got us worried
last time.  Could he have gone to the soda or ice machine?"

Scully tried to think analytically.  She looked around.

"I don't think so.  Here's tea here with his food and the ice bucket
is still here."

Skinner and Scully spent the next several minutes disproving the
possibilities until there was only one conclusion left.

Mulder was gone.

**************************************************

The killer led Mulder's stumbling form to the pickup truck.

"Get in."

Mulder got in and sat in the back.

"Lay down so no one can see you."

Mulder obliged.

The killer covered him entirely over with a blanket and got into the
driver's seat.

*Another sacrifice.  One less.  One more year over.*

*******************************************************

The hotel room was declared a crime scene thanks to Skinner's
intervention.  The place swarmed with F.B.I agents. Taking samples.
Taking fingerprints.  Making notes.  Interviewing Skinner and Scully.

Skinner's face twitched slightly with guilt as he watched the
fingerprinting crew.  He hoped they hadn't destroyed any evidence
before they realized that their current case was involved.

He looked over at Scully where she was being interviewed.  She was
the consumate professional.  Face calm.  Voice even.  But Skinner
knew by the set of her lips and the clench of her fist that she was
worried sick.

*****************************************************

He and Scully had tried first to report Mulder missing to the local
authorities.  They were told that a grown man is not missing just
because he can't be found for a couple of hours.

The two were back at Mulder's hotel room, looking for clues to his
whereabouts when Scully had a Mulder-like leap of inspiration.

She was leaning over the chair where he had sat when she left him to
get Skinner.

Scully remembered Mulder dropping into the chair after pacing for
five minutes straight.

In her mind's eye, she saw him mumbling to himself.  Taking a bite of
his burger.  Sipping his tea.

She saw herself tell him that if he wouldn't listen to her and get
some rest, she was going to get Skinner.

She saw herself leave and tried to imagine what Mulder did next.

Scully's eyes fell on the notebook of scribbles beside Mulder's plate.

She tried to read his seemingly disconnected written ramblings and
was about to give up when she drew a sharp breath.

She could swear she she heard an audible click as part of the puzzle
fell into place.

"The killer," she had said, spinning to speak to Skinner across the
room.  He was looking through Mulder's suitcase again, making sure
nothing was missing.

"What?" He had stood up from where he stooped on the floor by the
suitcase.

"The killer has Mulder.  The killer targets young, athletic males.
October 20th is only a few days away.  Mulder went out running
tonight, somehow the killer saw him, he fits the profile, and now
he's gone."

Scully went pale as she felt the truth of her words.

"The killer has Mulder, sir, I just know it."

********************************************************

MORE ON THE WAY.....

Summary: Can Skinner and Scully piece together the clues that will
lead them to Mulder?
****************************************************

The police had long cleared out.

The room was deserted.

Scully sat in Mulder's chair, staring at his notes.

Skinner sat on Mulder's bed, watching Scully.

"Maybe if I can recreate what he was trying to put together.." she
trailed off, in thought.

Skinner sighed and rubbed a hand over his head.  He was trying not to
picture what was probably happening to Mulder right now.

He knew Scully desperately wanted to make that 'leap.'
That 'electric connection' that Mulder always seemed to be able to
make, given enough time.

*The only problem with Mulder is when he profiles, it is a rush to
the finish.  There's always the questions: What will happen first?
Will he make that intuitive leap or will he go crazy?*

So far, he'd always won the race.  He caught the bad guys.

Skinner almost feared the possibility that Mulder had finally lost it
and wandered off as much as he feared the killer.

He said none of this to Scully as he watched her try to BE Mulder.

She looked at his notes. She hesitated for a moment and closed her
eyes.

"He paced for several minutes," she began to pace.

Minutes passed.  Scully mumbled to herself about Mulder's state of
mind, about the facts he kept mentioning, about the facts she had
written in her notebook.

She stopped in front of Skinner where he sat, legs splayed and hands
folded between them.

Scully looked mortified.  "I forgot you were here, sir.  This must
seem pretty far-fetched-"

He shook his head. "Continue, Agent Scully.  Who says Mulder is the
only one who can do this?"

She nodded and continued pacing the path Mulder had taken when she
had last spoken to him.

"Then he sat-" she sat in his chair.

"We had an argument.  I said it was getting to him.  He went on and
on about motive and told me to leave him alone for awhile.  He
resented me coming back in here to check on him before I went to bed
for the night."

She picked up the burger, almost in a trance, eyes shut.

"He took a bite of his burger-" she took a bite, "- and said, 'See,
I'm even eating, so you can cut out the Mother Hen routine.'"

She picked up his tea glass, the tea now lukewarm and watery with
long-melted ice.

"He took a sip of his tea, then chug-a-lugged it, coughed when it
went down the wrong way and that's when I told him I was going to get
Skinner," Scully referred to Skinner as though he were not in the
room.

She took a huge swig from the tea glass, gasped and took a deep,
sucking breath.

"It's not just tea!" she gasped.

Skinner was already at her side and swiping the glass from her hand.

"Damn! Poisoned? Should I call 9-1-1?"

Scully was shaking her head adamantly, trying to catch her breath.

"He was drinking.  Mulder was drinking.  He almost NEVER drinks,
sir.  It's mostly whiskey."

She finally cleared her throat and wiped the tearing from her eyes.

"He wanted me to leave because he didn't want me to know he was
drinking."  Her eyes became unfocused.

"Like his father," she whispered to herself, suddenly understanding
why Mulder demanded she leave him alone.

Shame. Guilt.

"He was trying to treat the nightmares with alcohol.  He's never done
that before," she paused, "That I know of, that is."  She finished
solemnly.

A minute or so of silence passed as the two contemplated the
implications.  Had Mulder simply stormed off in some sort of drunken
state?

Scully felt her head spin.  *Stress is getting to me*

Skinner set down the glass and took Scully by the arm.

"Scully, there is nothing more we can do tonight.  Its late and we're
both tired.  I want you to go back to your room and try to get some
sleep."

To his surprise, instead of protesting, she obediently headed for the
connecting door.

He followed her, suspicious.

*******************************************************

He noticed she swayed on her feet and Skinner led her by the elbow to
her bed.

"Sit, Scully," he said as he bent down to remove her shoes.

Remembering Mulder performing this exact favor for Scully and the
look of adoration that had been on his face made Skinner feel
slightly adulterous.

He bit down on the inappropriate emotion and removed her shoes.

He then pulled on her hands to get her to stand.  She couldn't seem
to keep her balance. Skinner kept one hand on her as he pulled down
the covers on her bed.

"Get in, Scully.  I think everything that has happened tonight is
maybe overwhelming you a little."

He expected venom and denial.  He expected protests and Scully's
patented intellectual insults.

He did not expect the weak moan as she crawled into bed and pulled
the covers to her chin.

Skinner started as he noticed her eyes were confused and blank.

And dilated.

"There WAS something in the food or the tea!" He realized.

He cursed, loudly.

"Get up, Scully.  We've got to get you to a hospital."

She tried to get out of the bed, but fell in a heap beside it.

Skinner swept her up into his arms and dashed into Mulder's room.

Depositing her on Mulder's bed, he took the small plastic liner from
the garbage can beside the nightstand and used it to collect the
burger and fries.

He could find nothing in which to secure the tea, so he decided to
simply carry the glass.

Skinner tied the bag around his belt, picked up Scully in his arms
and carefully picked up the tea.

"Ok," he said soothingly to a too-cooperative and mute Scully, "here
we go."

******************************************************

Scully woke to the sound of soft beeps and Skinner's
uncharacteristically tender voice.

"Scully? You awake? I see your eyes moving under there.  Come on,
open up.." he continued to mutter reassurances as she tried to speak.

"Whaaaa," she coughed, "Muh-"

Scully couldn't seem to form coherent words.

She opened her eyes with extreme effort.

Skinner leaned over her, his glasses glinting in the faint light.

To her shock, he smiled.

*Oh no, must be bad*

"Don't try to speak, Scully.  Can you hear me o.k.?"

She nodded slowly, swallowing the sudden nausea the movement caused.

"Good. Just listen.  They found Rohypnol in Mulder's tea and whiskey
concoction.  Are you familiar with the effects of Rohypnol?"

Scully spoke then, albeit roughly.  "Date rape drug.  Makes victims
easy to manipulate. Induces amnesia."

"Basically," Skinner nodded.

Her eyes shut. "Mulder.." she said as though in pain.

Skinner's expression turned serious.  "Its how the killer is
abducting his victims.  I think we can be pretty certain that there
is no accomplice."

He patted Scully's hand, "Its still the middle of the night; you
haven't been out of it long.  They're keeping you for observation
until morning.  We can't do anything until then anyway, Scully, so
try to get some rest."

She nodded, eyes still shut.

Scully heard Skinner leave the room, the door shutting softly.

Visions of Mulder being tortured and calling out her name filled her
head as she drifted into an exhausted, fitful sleep.

*****************************************************

Special Disclaimer:  I'm not an expert on the drug Rohypnol.  I know,
from the media and from a relative in law enforcement, that it is a
drug used with alcohol to make the victim malleable.  It also induces
amnesia.  Most victims of it do not remember, except maybe through
flashbacks later, what has transpired.  This drug is used quite a bit
for "date rape."  Here it is used on Mulder and the other men to make
them easy to handle.  Also, I don't know that it would affect Scully
in such a small dose and so quickly, but I am taking a little
literary license here for that part.  I do not feel it harms the
story.  I hope you agree.
 

Next time: Mulder's POV......
 

Summary: What is Mulder going through?

NOTE: THIS IS MULDER'S POV OF THE EVENTS LEADING UP TO HIS ABDUCTION
BY THE KILLER...

MAJOR MULDER ANGST ALERT!

******************************************************

Mulder startled as Scully gave a cursory knock and then pattered in
bare feet and pajamas through the connecting door.

He instantly folded his hand around his drink.

*She can't find out I'm drinking...She can't find out I'm drinking..*

After all the trouble he had gone through to hide any
evidence...Buying small bottles..throwing them in the dumpster
outside after using each one..ordering iced tea from room service...

*Damn!  I thought she was asleep!*

He normally wouldn't mind if someone knew he was drinking.  He
normally wouldn't mind if Scully found him drinking in a bar, or
having a beer, but what was going on tonight was different...

And she would know it.  Only her.  She knew the history..the
significance.

His father had drank heavily in Mulder's childhood.  His father had
been drinking to forget.

Mulder - Fox - would inevitably remind him of the very things he was
striving to wash from his mind.  The young boy's mere presence did
it.  He didn't even have to say anything.

Mostly, Fox had learned to stay out of his way.  To defer...not to
make eye-contact..not to argue..

But his father would explode.

His father beat the living crap out of him.

He still could hardly meet the man's eyes now, even though they were
both adults.  His father made him feel stupid..unworthy..

*"Loser! Good-for-nothing! It should have been YOU!"*

Mulder's father's words echoed in his head as though it happened
yesterday instead of over 20-odd years ago.

Scully was staring at him as he huddled protectively over his tea.
He tried not to look so obvious.

He shook his head.  Mulder was feeling woozy on top of everything
else.

"Mulder, are you o.k.?"

"Yeah. Why?"  He sat at the small table with his files, cheeseburger,
fries and iced tea - eyes wide.

"Mulder," she stepped toward him, "This - This case is getting to
you.  Have you even been to sleep yet?"

He felt a surge of anger.  Why couldn't she just go away and let him
wallow in peace?  Why does she always have to hover?

*"What is going on with you, boy?  You wanna take a swing at me? You
think you even got the guts? Go ahead, take a swing at me!"*

His last encounter with his father before Mulder departed for Oxford
played in his hazy mind.

*"Take a swing at me!"*

Scully cocked her head, irritation and concern on her face, "What is
going on with you?"

*Take a swing at me!"*

Mulder stood, fists clenched, and took a shaky step forward.

His vision suddenly cleared and he realized Scully stood not five
feet in front of him, looking at him with wide, wondering eyes.

He gasped.

Mulder paced past her, made a circuit in the small room and paced
past her again.

"This case...This case...the damn motive...the date..can't make the
connections..can't.."

He ended up back by the table and took a drink of his 'tea' without
thinking.

Why did the world seem so wobbly?

Reality and memory continued to meld and waver.  One moment his
surroundings were crisp and sharp, the next he was reliving the past.
 

*"You climb inside sickos' minds?"

Mulder had given his father a tour of his area at the VCU and was
explaining how he was getting a reputation for his uncanny ability to
profile.  It was the last attempt Mulder ever made to earn his
father's pride.
"Sounds like the perfect job for you, boy," his father sneered and
walked off.
Several of his co-workers glanced up in shock.*
 

Mulder blinked back to reality.  He remembered he had been really
glad that noone had called him 'Spooky' during his father's visit.

"Mulder? You're worrying me-"

He strode angrily over to the small table, sat tiredly, picked up his
burger and tore off a bite.

"You can stop the whole 'Mother Hen' routine, Scully.  See, I'm
eating and later I plan to sleep, ok?"

She opened her mouth again, but he continued to rant.

"And I am not a child who needs to be checked on, Scully.  I-I resent
that you think I am some kind of defective who can't-"

"Mulder!" Scully interrupted in shock.

He shook as he picked up his tea and sipped it.

*Aw, to hell with it*

Mulder chugged his tea and choked for his trouble.

Scully ran forward and pounded him on the back.

"Scully! Just leave me alone!" Mulder sputtered.

She stood back, her hands on her hips and her lips in a firm line.

"That's it, Mulder.  I'm getting Skinner.  Maybe he can talk some
sense into you."

Mulder didn't answer.  He had lost his connection with his
surroundings and was floating free.

He tried to speak.  He tried to react.

Mulder heard the door shut as Scully left.

He fell from his chair onto the floor...

Helpless.

*******************************************************

Next..and very quickly, I promise...Mulder's experience continues...
 

NOTES: MULDER'S SAGA CONTINUES...AND THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU
FOR THE FEEDBACK:)

WARNINGS: CHILD ABUSE DEPICTED.

*****************************************************

The spare, short man entered the hotel room a moment after Scully
left.

He knew he had no time to spare.

He leaned over and checked Mulder's pupils.

Dilated.

"Get up and follow me," he ordered Mulder in his sing-songy voice.

Mulder climbed to his feet and staggered after the man as he exited
the room, quickly and quietly.

*****************************************************

*"Where's your sister, Fox!?  Where is she?!"*
 

He was hearing his father's voice again.
 

*His teeth clacked together as he was dragged roughly by the shirt.

"What's wrong with you, boy? ANSWER ME!"

His father saw the gun lying on the floor.

"What the hell-" He picked it up and spun to face the trembling,
mute, gangly boy.

"What did you do, Fox?!"  He was waving the gun wildly in his son's
direction.

"Bill-" his mother grabbed his father's arm and pleaded tearfully
with him.

"Get off me!  This is your fault!  You and that bastard!" His father
pointed at Fox with the gun.

Fox trembled uncontrollably. "D-D-Dad, Sam's g-gone.."

"I can see that! Where is she?!" his father dropped the gun and
grabbed Fox by his upper arm, shaking him - hard.

"D-Don't know...Th-Th-They took her...took her...I tried to stop-p-p
them..your gun...couldn't...just froze...so sorry...so
sorry...sorry...sorry.." Fox was sobbing now, hanging limply in his
father's grasp.

"You FROZE?!" his father threw Fox from himself as though he were
rubbish and the thin boy landed against he edge of the couch.

"You're not my son," he had said, disowning him.

"I'm sorry..I'm sorry.." Fox had kept muttering, lying on the carpet,
eyes shut tightly.

His father had mostly called him 'boy' after that day, only
occasionally gracing him with 'son' or 'Fox.'

But, mostly, he was just 'boy.'

******************************************************

"..'m sah.." Mulder trailed off at the sound of his own voice and
swallowed the familiar tears.

*I'm just dreaming again*

He cracked his eyes open and was greeted with a dull haze.  His head
pounded.

*hangover?*

His mouth was dry and thick.  He swallowed several times and cleared
his throat to soothe it.

Mulder's vision began to clear and what he saw confused him.

He was in somebody's basement..

He turned his head slightly.

The dim light came from small, high windows.  There were a set of
narrow, concrete steps leading up to a door.

*definitely a basement.  I should know..*

He smirked at his own weak attempt at humor.

*How the heck did I get here?*

Mulder continued to look around.

He was restrained by the shackles around his ankles and attached to
the cinder block wall by long chains.  He had limited movement, but
was able to reach the perimeters of the room.

But, of course, not the stairs.

Suddenly it all became clear.

*The killer*

"So, figured it out yet?"

Mulder looked up.  A small, thin man peered down at him from the
door.

"I took you a little earlier than the others and we wouldn't want you
checking out too soon now, would we? So, here-" he chunked a small
bottle of water and a granola bar down at his captive.

The killer suddenly grinned. "You still haven't figured it out yet,
have you? Well, I'm not gonna tell you."

He backed to the door and Mulder heard locks being engaged and a
heavy, scraping sound.

And he was alone.

*******************************************************

Scully and Skinner had spent the day interviewing suspects.

The list of delivery employees was much more extensive than either
had expected it to be.

Mr. Bernard, the owner of the mail-order vitamin company, used
several different delivery companies, depending on who would cut a
better deal.

The larger his order, the more the companies would barter for his
business, or the better already- established specials they could
offer him.

If all else failed, he used the U.S. Postal Service.

There was also the matter of the high turnover rate of a couple of
the local delivery businesses.

So, looking at the Post Office, UPS, Federal Express, and a couple of
locally-owned delivery services - Scully and Skinner spent their day
narrowing down the list of suspects and thinking about Mulder.

*******************************************************

Using the working profile Mulder had left them, they were able to
narrow down the list to five females.  All either current or former
employees of the delivery companies.

They scheduled interviews with the women - three had been conducted
that day and two were scheduled for tomorrow morning.

Scully's hand tremored slightly as she took notes in her notebook,
Skinner noticed as he manuvered the car in the city traffic.

He realized he hadn't seen her eat anything that day.

She had picked at breakfast and pushed her lunch around on her plate.

Skinner opened his mouth to gently chastise her for this and had a
revelation.

Mulder.

The killer had starved and dehydrated his victims before executing
them.

Probably without even meaning to, she was doing the same to herself.

*When was the last time I even saw her drink a glass of water?*

Skinner shifted his focus back to his driving and scanned the
businesses ahead for a convenience store.

Seeing one, he switched lanes and turned in to the parking lot.

Scully looked up as they parked.

Skinner didn't say a word.  He just got out of the car and stalked
purposefully into the store.

Scully frowned, sensing something amiss, but shrugged her shoulders
and went back to her notes.

In a few minutes, Skinner reappeared with a small sack.

"Scully?"

"Hm?" She didn't look up.

A bottle of water and a package of crackers were shoved under her
nose.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry," she politely declined, still not looking
up.

"Scully, look at me."

She did. And Skinner had his "boss" face on.

"I want you to drink the water and eat the crackers, Agent Scully.  I
will not have one of my agents passing out because she did not bother
to take care of herself."

"But, sir-"

"Drink. Eat." Skinner said firmly, pointing at the water and crackers.

She sighed.  Slowly she opened the water and took a drink.  It felt
good, actually.  She took another.

Skinner was still staring at her, but the wrinkle between his eyes
had eased a bit.

She opened the crackers and put one in her mouth, crunching loudly
for Skinner's benefit.

The wrinkle between Skinner's eyes vanished, and he smiled slightly.

"Ok, Scully, I'll leave you alone.  I just don't want you neglecting
yourself while we look for Mulder.  He wouldn't want that either, you
know."

Her mood turned somber again, "I know."

She made herself eat another cracker and drink some more water.  But,
suddenly, her stomach felt sick.

Skinner's cell phone rang, breaking the heavy quiet that had settled
in the car.

"Skinner."

Scully watched his face tense up again, the wrinkle reappearing
between his eyes.

"We'll be right there."

He turned to her. "That was a detective with the local P.D.  One of
the kitchen employees at our hotel has been found dead and stuck in
one of the hotel dumpsters."

The knot in Scully's stomach tightened.

*******************************************************

I'm still working....just thought I'd better post what I had so
far...More Mulder POV on the way...:)
 
 

NOTES: To all those who send me feedback..."Yooouuuu light up life,
you give me hooooppeee.." Have you ever been serenaded over the
internet before? *L*

And to Teresa, who would like to kiss Mulder's boo-boos, I
think...*wink* :)

*****************************************************

Scully watched as the hotel employee's body was zipped into the body
bag.

He had been shot through the head, execution-style.

"The only thing missing is his maroon room-service vest, far as we
can tell," The kitchen manager was saying, "But, of course, I suppose
he could have been carrying something else without my knowledge.  I
already told the other police this."

She turned toward Skinner and the man he interviewed.

Skinner was nodding, grimly, looking down at the ground as he
listened to the other man speak.

He didn't take any notes.  This turn of events was not a huge
surprise.

It had become obvious to Scully that the killer had been watching for
an opportunity to take Mulder and saw her chance when Mulder had
ordered room service.

*She had apparently killed the hotel employee, perhaps using a
silencer by the lack of witnesses, took his vest, and had posed as
room service in order to drug Mulder's tea and deliver it to his room.

The killer had then been able to lead a drugged Mulder to....

Where?! Where is Mulder right now?  What is happening to him?*

Scully felt the knot tighten her throat again.  She tried to take a
deep breath.

She became aware of Skinner's appraising gaze on her.  Scully averted
her eyes quickly and turned away to look again at the dumpster.

Skinner's worried look never wavered.

*******************************************************

Night fell.

Mulder knew this because the little strips of light slowly vanished
and the room became pitch black.

*Cloudy night*

He tried not to drink the water.  He knew he should save it for what
was to come.

Mulder had found a bucket in the corner just before the sun
completely disappeared and was able to attend to his basic needs.

Bladder empty, he had sat on the small cot set up against one wall.

*Scully and Skinner will find me*

He tried to think of Scully and how she looked when she slept and how
she looked when she worried and how she looked in those teal
pajamas...

Mulder sighed.  This wasn't helping. Now all he could think about was
the possibility that he'd never see Scully again.

He decided to mentally go over his profiling notes, add any
additional knowledge he could, and try to see if he couldn't make
some headway on the case.

Perhaps it could save his own life.

The biggest concern Mulder had was the apparent revelation that the
killer was a male.  Scully and Skinner could be on the wrong track if
they were following the tenative profile he had formed before his
abduction.

A scraping sound preceded a beam of light into the basement as Mulder
scrambled to his feet and glared toward the opened door.

"Who is it?" he called out, even though he knew he wouldn't get an
answer.

*Time to bait this guy and see I can get some information*

"Wouldn't you like to know," said the sing-song voice with a laugh.

The beam shone on the bottle of water and granola bar by the wall
where Mulder had left them.

"Saving them won't do you any good.  I'll just take them from you
when its time," he warned.

"But if I die too soon, you don't get what you want from me, do you?"
Mulder decided to use the only weapon he had against the killer -
himself.

"You said it yourself," Mulder added, "wouldn't want me checking out
too soon."

The killer seemed to be staring at him, but Mulder couldn't tell
exactly WHAT was going on behind the beam of the flashlight.  The
small man was merely a shadow.

"I could always take someone else.  You are not indispensible, you
know."

His voice had become growly, barely restrained.

"Why October 20th?" Mulder asked, "Why not just kill me now? What is
it, some kind of sick anniversary?"

The killer laughed harshly.

"I'm not an idiot, Mr. Mulder.  I may not be with the F.B.I., but I
can see what you're doing."

He seemed to be staring again.

"With the brown hair and the light eyes.." he seemed to fade for a
moment.

"I bet you're into sports, aren't you?"

Mulder frowned, wondering whether to lie or tell the truth.  He
decided to try a different tack.

"No, actually. My job at the F.B.I. is profiling and its mostly
paperwork.  I don't get a lot of time to participate in sports or
anything physical like that, why?"

The killer flew into a fury.

"That's not true!  I saw you running! Its obvious!! Say it! Say it!!
SAY IT!!!"

His hysterical voice rose several octaves.

He flung his flashlight without warning and it hit Mulder square in
the forehead.

Mulder's already dark world spun as he fell and began to recede into
absolute blackness.

"With the brown hair and the light eyes," the killer started again,
this time spitting the words at Mulder, "and the jock mentality....
my father would have loved you."

Mulder barely had time to wonder about that before his hearing
followed his sight and he knew no more.

*****************************************************

Scully sat up and gasped.

There was a pounding on the connecting door.

She flung herself out of bed, tripping on the bedcovers, and stumbled
to the door.

*MULDER?!*

Scully started to open it, rethought and grabbed her gun from the
nightstand.

She reached out a shaky hand to open the door as the pounding sounded
again.

"Open the door, Scully! Are you alright? If you don't answer me, I'm
going to knock down the door!"

Skinner's voice boomed through the barrier.

She breathed heavily, set her weapon back down, and unlocked the door.

He paced in, looking pale and holding his own gun ready in front of
him.

Not seeing a threat, he spun to squint at Scully where she still
stood - hand still on the doorknob and looking confused.

"What's wrong, sir? And why were you in Mulder's room?"

His eyebrows shot up.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" he said, incredulously.

She blinked at him.

Skinner lowered his gun and stepped forward, placing a hand on her
arm.

"You were screaming.  I couldn't tell what you were saying, but it
sounded pretty bad.  I wasn't sure if you were having some kind of
nightmare or being attacked."

He paused.

Scully was biting her lip and trying not to cry in front of him.  Her
jaw set and he knew the tears would go no farther than the sheen he
saw in her eyes.

"I stayed in Mulder's room because, well.."  He knew she wasn't going
to like what he had to say.

"I was worried."

He cleared his throat and stepped back, dropping his hand.  He waited
for her inevitable anger.

Skinner wasn't disappointed.

Scully's eyes sparked blue fire.

"Do I have to start telling you too, sir?  I can take care of
myself.  It was just a nightmare.  No big deal."

She stalked to her front door and flung it open.

"You may return to your own room, sir.  I do not require a keeper."

Skinner, she noticed for the first time, stood regarding her without
his glasses - a mixture of defeat and concern in his brown eyes.  He
walked barefoot to her front door and gestured to his drawstring
shorts - the only thing he wore.

"I assume I am at least ALLOWED to get dressed before I am evicted?"

She blushed, her anger gone as quickly as it came.

"Yes sir."

Skinner shuffled to Mulder's door, mumbling loud enough for her to
hear, "Good thing nothing was wrong.  Can't hit a damn thing without
my glasses anyway."

Scully smiled ruefully and shook her head as she went back into her
room and shut the door.

*****************************************************

Mulder awoke to bright sunlight on his face and a throbbing pain in
his head....and his stomach.

His gut growled loudly.

He sighed and sat up, tenatively.

Mulder sat in one of the small rectangular patches of sunlight cast
from the windows.

*windows must face east*

Hunger overwhelmed him.  He looked around for the granola bar and was
surprised to see it where he had left it.

He broke it in half and ate one part.  The other half he set back by
the water.

Mulder felt the knot on his forehead and was grateful that he
couldn't see any blood where he had lain.

*There could be internal injuries.*

He could hear Scully's voice distinctly in his head.

*That's what she would say if she were here. And she'd feel around on
my head with her fingers as though she were doing some sort of
telepathic x-ray of her own.*

He smiled at the idea and imagined her reaction to such a notion.

Mulder could clearly see her giving him "The Look."

He unscrewed the top of the water and took a drink.  He slowly
swished it around in his mouth and then swallowed it.

He had to be careful with his water too.

Mulder wondered if there was somewhere he could hide a stash of water
for later.

He could convince the killer that he'd drank all the water - empty
bottle - and the killer'd never know the difference.

Except Mulder searched the basement and there was nothing.

He sat heavily on the cot and decided to try to work on the profile
again.

Mulder considered the killer's comment about his father and stared
into space - eyes unfocused - as he mentally reviewed his notes.

He did not see the killer kneeling down by one of the basement
windows, regarding his captive....

and smiling wickedly.

******************************************************

More on the way.....
 

********************************************************
Mulder stared at the small, familiar-looking woman and felt his mouth
hanging open.

He closed it and swallowed as the small woman stepped down a few
steps toward him.

"Haven't you figured it out yet, AGENT Mulder?" she taunted him in
her familiar sing-song voice.

*That voice.  Just an octive higher, but the same...*

"Twin sister?" Mulder ventured, not wanting to give voice to his
actual conclusion.

She laughed and ran a hand through her short hair.

"This is the only thing I regret.  I had beautiful, long hair once,"
she sighed, "but it didn't meet with my father's approval."

"You-you live as a man," Mulder stated.

The profile began to click together in his head, piece by piece.
Mulder felt that rush to his head he always gets when a profile
begins to make sense.

"Your father wanted a boy, didn't he?  And he never let you forget
it.  You tried to be the boy he wanted, didn't you?"

Mulder was babbling to himself mostly, eyes clouded over as he read
from the notes in his mind.  He failed to notice the killers
breathing quicken or her jaw clenching.

"But the more you tried, the more enraged he got.  What? Did he hit
you? Abuse you?  Call you a weirdo for dressing and acting like a
guy?"

Mulder snapped to with a shake of his head and focused again on the
woman standing in front of him, trembling with rage.

"Very good.  Exactly correct," she said to him through her
teeth, "And you'll be happy to know that your friends are beginning
to figure it out too.  But they won't be in time for you."

She reached behind her into the waistband of her jeans and pulled out
a small gun.

"And now you die," she said, firing.

Mulder started to dive but there was nowhere to go; he was trapped.

Pain exploded across his back.

The last thing he heard was the killer's shrill laughter.

*******************************************************

He was floating.

His body was being lifted...dragged?

*Dragged by demons to Hell?*

Mulder was remembering some of Scully's Catholic stories of Heaven
and Hell.

*So this is it.. Wait, didn't Scully say there'd be a waiting place
first?*

He was struggling with this weightless reality.  His body felt
foreign to him and his mind flitted from one thought to another...

*I'm bleeding out*

He had a moment of clarity and the thought made him cry out mentally.

*Scully!*

********************************************************

She rubbed her temples with her fingers, eyes clenched shut.

Skinner watched her out of the corner of his eye, trying not to be
too obvious about it.

Scully groaned.

"Headache?" Skinner couldn't resist asking as he manuvered the car in
and out of traffic.

The two were headed for more interviews.

She nodded.

"A migraine, I think," Scully was swallowing convulsively, "I've
never had one, but its making me nauseous.  I'm sensitive to light.
And the pain is localized to one side of the head."

She flinched.

"Of course, it could be an anurysum," she said matter-of-factly.

The car swerved slightly as Skinner looked at her in alarm.

"Should we get you to a hospital?" He tried to say calmly.

She shook her head.

"But I wouldn't mind if you stopped somewhere so I can pick up
something for it."

Skinner nearly killed them both crossing traffic to get to the
turning lane.

A small grocery store stood on the corner ahead.

*******************************************************

He was feeling less and less connected to reality.

Mulder thought he heard the clank of chains and had a fleeting
thought of Marley's chains.

He wondered how long his were going to be and if he would be able to
bear the burden.

Mulder formed a mental picture of himself dragging the chains he had
forged in life through the halls of the J. Edgar Hoover building,
haunting Scully and Skinner.

And, maybe, not so nicely haunting some other people in that building
as well.

At that, his mental picture rippled with his slight laughter.

The image continued to ripple...fall apart...change...

It darkened.

He looked down at his hands.  They were too big for his skinny
wrists.

Mulder continued to look down.  His feet were encased in old tennis
shoes.  They too looked huge on the ends of his thin, muscular
runner's legs.

*But I don't look like this anymore.  Mom was right...I grew into
them...*

By the side of his feet was a broken lamp.  The pieces were scattered
away from him by the impact with the floor.

*Oh no...*

But it was too late.  The nightmare continued on its course as though
happening in real time...

"Fox!"

His mother stood stunned in the doorway to his father's den.

"What have you done?!"

He knew his mouth was hanging open.

"Mom, I-I just...He's always in here...every since Sam-"

"Don't!" his mother shrieked, "For Goodness sake, Fox, it was only
last month!  How can you stand there and talk about it so-so calmly?
What kind of child ARE you?!"

His mother turned and fled down the narrow hallway, a hand over her
mouth to muffle her sobbing.

"I just wanted to know what he's always doing in here.  And why he
won't talk to me anymore," Fox said to the empty room.

He knelt down and began to collect the pieces of the lamp broken by
his pre-adolescent clumsiness.

He threw away the big pieces and swept up the small bits and poured
them from the dustpan into the garbage as well.

Fox was leaving his father's den when he ran into his father coming
in.

"Boy, what the devil are you doing in my den?" his father regarded
him, tight-lipped.

Fox just stood there, head down.

"And what did you do to your mother? What did you say to upset her?"

"I didn't mean to upset her," Fox began explaining, "I just wondered
what you do in here all the time and then the lamp broke and-"

"The lamp?"

"Yes sir, I broke it."

His father scowled at him and shook his head in disapproval.

"You seem to do a lot of things that you don't MEAN to do.  You know
what happened to Sam, don't you?"

Fox's eyes widened, "No, sir."

"What happened, boy?  You get mad and hurt her?  Is she-is she buried
somewhere in the woods?  The backyard?"

There were hot, angry tears tracking down his father's face.

"NO!" Fox was yelling, "I didn't hurt Sam! I swear!"

He saw his father's hand raise for the blow.  He knew it didn't
matter what he said anymore.

Fox swallowed his own tears and fear and closed his eyes against the
inevitable.

"Bill," the familiar voice of his father's co-worker was
asking, "hurry up and get those papers and lets go."

Fox opened his eyes and saw that the man had restrained his father's
uplifted arm with his hand.

The two men stared challenge at one another.

Finally, his father seemed to melt.  His jaw was still set in anger,
but he lowered his hand.

"Sure.  Let me find them and we can get out of here."

He brushed past his son, picked up a manilla folder from his desk,
and pushed past Fox again on his way out.

He never said a word to his son.

"You're lucky I showed up," the other man gestured to Fox with his
cigarette and strode away in a haze of smoke.

*******************************************************

The killer dragged Mulder with great effort, inch by inch, toward the
chains she had set into the wall.

It seemed to take forever, but when she was done, she smiled with
satisfaction.

She pushed the hair off her sweaty brow and observed his uneasy sleep.

"NO!" Mulder cried out once while she watched him and scared her so
badly she jumped.

The killer knew he hadn't slept the night before, but had sat up,
staring into space, presumably thinking about his situation.

She wondered what a combination of tranquilizer and sleep deprivation
caused a man to dream about.

*What does THIS man dream about?*

********************************************************

Scully stared at the ceiling above her bed and thanked God that her
migraine had subsided.

The interviews had gone better than expected.

October 20th had shown up in the official files of two of the male
employees she and Skinner had talked to today.

One male employee of the U.S. Post Office and one male ex-employee of
We Deliver, a local delivery company.

An anniversary and a birthday.

Was it one of these men?

One had a shaky alibi, at best.  The other had none.  The Post Office
worker had been "drinking with the guys" when Mulder was abducted.

The other had been "sleeping" in his apartment.

And although by tracking down the paperwork, Scully had been able to
confirm the use of one company or another by the vitamin company
during the times of the murders, she had not been able to absolutely
confirm that either of the employees interviewed today had been the
person making the deliveries.

Deliveries were made by whomever was available.  And the paper trail
was not as thorough as it should have been.
The man at the Post Office had blushed when he discovered that the
delivery person for many days could not be confirmed.  The lady
at 'We Deliver' had merely shrugged.

Scully sighed and looked over at Skinner, asleep on the bed beside
her.

The two of them had spread the folders and photos and notes across
her bed and ordered a pizza.

They had debated and passed pizza back and forth for hours, shuffling
and reshuffling their accumulated notes.

Somewhere in the midst of rewriting Mulder's profile, she had noticed
the rustling of papers beside her had ceased.

Skinner had slumped against the headboard, chin on chest, glasses on
the end of his nose.

She had reached over to wake him but when he started snoring, decided
against it.

*Obviously, he needs the sleep*

Scully repressed the sudden chortle that rose in her throat.

It would not be good if Skinner woke up and caught her laughing at
him.

So, she had leaned back to rest as well and considered the ceiling as
she mulled over the case.

Which brought her back to the present...

She glanced over at her boss.  Her now fifty-year-old boss.

By the way he talked, she could tell this birthday had hit him hard.

Scully smiled.  She and Mulder cared for the man very much.  She
wondered if Skinner had any idea.

She scooted up until she was sitting on her feet with her legs folded
under her and carefully leaned forward to take Skinner's glasses from
his face.

Scully lifted them carefully, but he scrunched his nose anyway.  He
reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose, mumbled "Thanks,
Sharon" and lay flat on the bed, rolling to his side.

She set them on the nightstand, cleared the folders and assorted
notes and such off the bed and then sat back down on the bed, leaning
against the headboard, careful not to disturb Skinner.

Scully settled the notebook containing the revised profile against
her knees and pulled the pen from behind her ear.  She pushed her own
glasses up on her nose.

She sighed and tried to make the pillows at her back more comfortable.

For some reason, she felt too uneasy to retire to the other room.  It
felt safer not to be alone.

She sighed again.

It was going to be long night.

********************************************************

Mulder awoke to the sound of his own cries.

He couldn't remember what he had been dreaming about, but he was
pretty sure it had something to do with his father because of the
heavy feeling in his stomach.

Mulder realized he couldn't remember the last time one of his
nightmares had awoken him on an out-of-town case.

He knew that Scully was the reason for that.

It was still the middle of the night.  He could smell the familiar
mustiness of the basement through the absolute blackness that
surrounded him.

The realization that he wasn't dead flooded his senses suddenly.

He sighed heavily.  Maybe he would see Scully again.

*Must have used tranquilizer...If I'd been thinking, I would have
remembered that she didn't kill the others that way...*

But he knew he'd just been too scared to think at the time.

He tried to sit up only to find that he could hardly move.

Mulder was now restrained to the wall by chains attached to his
ankles and wrists.

The length of chain allowed him only to sit up and shift a little.

His stomach twinged and his mouth felt gummy.

Hunger.

Thirst.

*And so it begins*

********************************************************

Notes: I would have posted this much sooner, but my server is having
problems.  Ok, did you see it coming?

The killer is a woman living as a man!!

Hints: The killer mentioned a few stories ago that October 20th was
her birthday.  The father references were vague, but gave the
impression of an abusive relationship and refered to the father being
dissatisfied with having a daughter when he wanted a son.  I refered
to the "sing-song" voice...the fact 'he' was small and spare...the
almost haughty feminine attitude of the killer.

What do you think?  So far, so good?

The end is on its way in five or less parts....:)
 

******************************************************

*Ohhhhkaaaay...*

Skinner blinked in disbelief.

*Um, Mulder is definitely never hearing about this. Definitely*

He almost laughed at himself.  He sounded like Rainman.  Even if it
was only in his thoughts.

Skinner lay very still, on his right side, facing his...problem..and
wondering what he should do.

Get up and make a run for it?

Lay there and pretend to be asleep and let HER wake up and make a run
for it?

Pretend it was no big deal, get up and go back to his room and get
ready for the day like a mature FIFTY year old adult?

His inner child wanted to get up and run for it.

*Mulder is going to either kill me or laugh himself into a seizure
over this*

Scully opened her eyes suddenly, saw him lying nose-to-nose with her,
sparse inches separating them, and gasped.

*Damn! Waited too long!*

Skinner tried a tenative smile.

"Um, good morning, Agent Scully?"

He cursed himself mentally when it came out sounding like a question.

She blinked rapidly as though trying to wake up.

Scully must have decided this was really happening, because a smile
then formed on her face.  In fact, her smile was in serious danger of
becoming a chuckle.

"Good morning, sir," she choked out, successfully.

They lay there regarding each other.

A abrupt laugh puffed across Skinner's face.  Scully couldn't help it.

She rolled to her back and laughed.

"I'm sorry, sir, but," she took a deep breath to stop the next
chuckle, "the look on your face.  And, for a moment, I was even,
like, 'What the-', and then I remembered-"

She interrupted herself with another chuckle.

Skinner rolled to his back and sat up, slowly. He shook his head at
Scully's blurrily laughing figure.

"Oh, yeah, real funny.  Do you have any idea what this would look
like if someone were to walk in here?"

He gestured to the door as someone knocked.  The two of them jumped.
Scully was startled into silence.

Since it was her room, Scully answered, "Who is it?"

"Maid service, ma'am."

They relaxed and sighed.

"Not today, thank you," Scully shouted to the door.

"Yes ma'am," the maid could be heard shuffling away.

Skinner reached up an pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I think I'm getting a headache already, and the day has barely
started."

He looked around, but details of the room remained out of focus.

"And where are my damn glasses?"

Skinner felt his glasses placed in his hand.  He put them on and the
situation sharply came into focus.

He and Scully sat side by side, on top of the covers, fully-clothed,
a notebook, pen and a couple of files scattered between them.

The rest of the files and the pizza debris were on the small table
across the room.

It would be obvious to anyone that the two had fallen asleep working
on the case.

His eyes rested again on Scully.  She was looking at him with a
smirk.

"Feel better now, sir?"

He blushed all the way to the top of his head.

"I'll go to my room, clean up and meet you at the cafe' for breakfast
in..say..30 minutes?"

She nodded, becoming serious again.

"I want to get right back to work on this, sir.  I think I have an
idea how to flush our killer out into the open."

*******************************************************

Mulder awoke to the smell of woman's cologne.

He hadn't even realized he'd slept again.

And dreamless for a change.

He'd slept the sleep of the weak and spent.

Once more, the smell of perfume assailed his senses.  It wasn't
particularly strong, just obvious.

*must have happened when she moved me*

The beginning of the case came flooding back to him in technicolor
detail.

Scully had smelled women's cologne on the third victim's clothing
before it had a chance to dissipate.

He put two and two together.

When the killer was herself, she dressed like a woman.  That included
the cologne.

Mulder wished he could talk to Scully and Skinner.  He wondered if
they were even close to finding him.

He wondered how Scully would handle it when he turned up dead.

*******************************************************

Skinner and Scully sat across from one another, plates pushed aside,
hunched over a small pile of files and papers.

"So, your plan is standard police work?" Skinner said.

Scully nodded.

"I have here the addresses of our two main suspects.  I also have
addresses of close relatives," she shuffled through the papers,"What
I am proposing we do is narrow down the list of residences to those
with basements or cellars."

"In this part of the country, that isn't going to narrow it down
much, if at all," Skinner interjected.

"I know, but its something," Scully continued impatiently,"Then, I
want to show up at the remaining residences at random.  I don't want
there to be any warning to the residents themselves."

"We don't have a search warrant," Skinner pointed out, "and we aren't
likely to get one for so many residences at once.  A judge won't sign
off on a 'Hail Mary' shot, Scully."

"It isn't just random residences," Scully protested, "These are
suspects-"

"The relatives aren't," Skinner interrupted, "and the judge may see
it as a violation of their rights."

"We're talking about a man's life here!  October is day after
tomorrow!"

Several restaurant patrons looked up at Scully's raised voice.

Skinner cleared his throat.

"Scully, calm down.  I think your plan is fine.  I just want you to
be aware that we won't be able to just bust down the door of each of
these residences and search them without a search warrant or probable
cause.  Just being related to the suspect is not enough reason to be
under suspicion."

Scully's eyes held a desperate look.

"Day after tomorrow," she repeated, "There isn't enough time for
this."

"We'll do the best we can.  We'll get the locals to help," Skinner
reassured her.

Scully nodded and began to shove the mess on the table back into her
briefcase.

It was all they could do.

**********************************************************************
*

(Announcer voice) "Will Mulder be rescued in time?! Tune in next
time..."

Next part is coming pretty quickly....

**********************************************************************
*

The small man walked tiredly up the rickety stairs of the old
farmhouse.

He wondered idly why it was so warm in October.

Sweat caused the light blue workshirt to stick to his frame and he
had a sudden worry that the binding underneath showed.

*Naw. I've gotten too good at it now.  Noone suspects.*

At this thought, he traced his finger around the name sewn over his
left breast pocket.

*Earl.  Much better than Arlene, right Dad?*

He paused and turned to admire the afternoon sun.  It had been a
short day today at his new job at the gas station.  Not a job he
particularly wanted, but a job he had taken out of neccesity.

*After all, even psychos have to eat.*

He chortled to himself at the thought.

The killer would be caught soon.  He was beginning to come to terms
with that.

But, when it was over he would have rid the world of four of his
father's ideal sons.

Four "all-American" men.

The killer smiled to himself.  This last one would be his masterpiece.

Not only athletic, but brilliant as well.

His father would have been bursting with pride had this man been his
son.

*Oh yes, it will a pleasure to rid the world of Agent Mulder.*

He smiled wider.

This one would be his legacy.

The killer turned and strode into his home.  This was his favorite
part of the day.

*The Unveiling*

He thought of it as the shedding of his mask.

Earl strolled into his bedroom, stripping off the blue shirt as he
went and letting it flutter to the floor.

Next went the white undershirt, revealing a tight wrapping around his
chest.

He continued his walk smoothly into the bathroom, slowly unwinding
the binding and sighing as he slowly...

surely...

became Arlene.

She moaned as her breasts were finally freed from their prison.

*Like the most constrictive bra ever made*

She resisted the urge to scratch madly, quickly undressing and
stepping into the shower.

Arlene turned the water to a hot temperature and proceeded to scrub
away the day's sweat and grime.

She steamed up the bathroom and then stepped primly from behind the
curtain, a changed person.

The killer began her ritual.

The ritual she had established from the beginning....with the first
murder.

She wanted the victims to know it was a woman who killed them.

A mere woman.

Arlene wanted her father to know, somehow from his deep, deserving
grave, that SHE killed them.

She relived the killing of her first *lamb* (as she thought of him)
in her mind as she dropped her towel to the floor and walked nude to
the dresser by the bed.

The killer picked up her perfume bottle and began to dab it on her
wrists...her neck....behind her knees.

She then splashed a little over her palms and rubbed it up and down
her arms, over her chest and over the top of her hair.

Arlene loved the smell of this cologne.  It was sweet...feminine...It
smelled like flowers.

She applied her makeup with care.

Did her hair best she could, considering its boyish cut.

Then she donned silky, dainty underwear, a flowery blouse and a pair
of faded, blood-spattered jeans.

The killer sighed.  She would have rather have worn a dress for this,
but she was nothing if not practical.

She traced one of the light stains with her finger.

*Bleach just doesn't work on blood very well*

Her attention was diverted by the sight of her nails.  She wished she
could grow them...paint them.

But that would be a dead giveaway in her everyday life.

And she had been taught by her father long ago that the world would
eat her alive if she lived as a woman.

Arlene snorted with ironic amusement.  Her father, the very one who
made her believe she was inferior for being born female, laughed at
her when he discovered she was living her life as a male.

She thought she had found a way to earn his approval.  She made a
pretty fair guy.  Her co-workers seemed to appreciate 'him.'

She got comfortable with the role.  So comfortable, in fact, that she
had decided to reveal herself to her father.

Big mistake.

The man derided her for her delusions.  Called her names.  Laughed.
Said that not only was she a failure because she wasn't a boy like
she should have been, but now was a failure at being a woman as well.

He thought that was hilarious.

Arlene did not.

She never spoke to her father again, but continued living as a man.
She was addicted to the approval she received at work.

And maybe a small part of her still wished she could have been her
father's son.

When she received word that her parents had perished in a car
accident, instead of feeling glad or sad or upset....she merely felt
cheated.

Now she would never be able to prove to him that she could be what he
wanted.

The anger built inside her.

She hated him for all he had done to her and now she hated him for
leaving before she could prove him wrong.

She hated her mother for sitting by and doing nothing.

The anger built inside her.

The trigger came one unlikely afternoon when 'he' was working in a
sporting goods store.

An employee brought his new baby son in for everyone to see.

He bragged and bragged about his son's athletic future.  He joked
about his obvious budding athletic prowess.

Something inside of Arlene snapped.

That man's brother had been her first victim.  She couldn't bring
herself to kill the man himself, not with the new baby.

She did have SOME scruples.

The next one was easy.

Arlene had found him while working at a local delivery company.

He was the epitome of a big, dumb, arrogant, jock.

It was the third one that shook her a bit.

The killer assumed too much about him.  She looked at him and saw the
same qualities that she had loathed in the second man.

It was only after she had already abducted him in preparation for
the 'sacrifice' that she had discovered that he had cancer.

He had just been diagnosed.  She had found the papers in his pocket.

Not only that, but in his wallet were pictures of him coaching in a
local Special Olympics.

Arlene had tried to backtrack.  She gave him water in an effort to
give herself more time to think of a plan to return him, unharmed.

But it was too late.  He knew too much.

So, she killed him and vowed to be more careful choosing the next one.

*And now I have found the perfect sacrifice.*

The killer straightened her blouse and smoothed her hair.

She regarded her reflection, paused, and smiled.

**********************************************************************
****

We're getting close now....
 
 

DEDICATION: To Becky, whom I have dubbed "The Detail Queen" - I love
it when folks read my stories the way she does!  Because I try to
write them to be read that way!:)  Especially this one!:)  And to
Mimic's college kid who thinks bad puns are clever!:)

AND, OF COURSE, TO DANIELA LABOD WHO HAS MADE A WEBSITE OF MY STORIES:

www.geocities.com/corran_14776/shawntaw.html

Thank you.:)

*******************************************************

Mulder drifted in and out of reality.

His mouth felt sticky.

His stomach had settled into a constant, hollow ache.

Mulder was having a little trouble distinguishing reality from
hallucination.

He had conversations with his sister.  She appeared beside him on the
floor, forever eight years old, and he took the opportunity to
apologize for failing her all those years ago.

Samantha sat listening as he rambled, nightgown stretched over her
folded knees as she hugged them to her chest.

When he ran out of things to say, she merely shook her head as though
he were being silly.  Samantha smiled at him affectionately.

Mulder reached out to her, but she vanished like smoke.

His father appeared abruptly next to him in her place, causing Mulder
to jump.

Mulder's father began to berate him.  He accused him of wrongdoing in
Samantha's disappearance.  He ranted about Mulder's choice to attend
Oxford, so far away from home.  He blamed Mulder for Mulder's
mother's breakdown.  He belittled Mulder's choice of career and his
profiling ability.

Mulder sat, head down, trying to remind himself that he was suffering
from delusions caused by dehydration, starvation, and isolation.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he began to fight back.  The anger
burst like a dam and words began to pour from him.  Words he had
always wanted to say to his father.

H