by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 10:00AM Wednesday, 8 March Sheriff's Office, Goff County "A call on the locals" ------- The room was reminiscent of the "Andy Griffith" show, or maybe "In the Heat of the Night". Locked cabinet of rifles on one wall, dispatcher in front of his console speaking into a mike. The faint smell of gunoil and leather, coffee and Danish that seems to follow policemen around. The wave of a Stetson in the back of the room caught his attention. He walked back, dodging desks and chairs until he got to the chunky Southerner. "Good Morning, Sheriff Grimes," Mulder said. "Good Morning, Agent Mulder. How is the G-Man business, this morning?" Mulder laughed along with Grimes at the friendly joke. "Fairly quiet," he replied. "Have any bank robberies that need solved?" It was Grime's turn to smile. "Last one was, 'bout 20 years ago. Trail'd be a bit cold by now," he paused for a moment. He brightened up, "Got anything planned for this morning" he asked with a smile. "No. My partner is fielding questions from the defence team this morning. I am going to join her and Goo for some field work this afternoon." Mulder knew that something was up, the smile had just too much fun in it. "Good, I would like your help with something. Deputy Fitzpatrick, John Fitzpatrick, will be checking out some reports of vagrants at a unused cabin this morning. And with your comments that Anders may have had accomplices . . ." Grimes could see the interest in Mulder's hazel eyes. "Fine, when does Fitzpatrick plan to leave?" "Right after your next cup of joe," Grimes responded with a smile. Mulder smiled his appreciation and a moment latter, Grimes pored coffee into a cup with Mulder's name on it. "When you are done, rinse it out and hang it on the rack here." Seeing Mulder's confusion, he elaborated, "It's a something one of the deputies picked up at a Boy Scout campout. Assign everybody a permanent cup and a space to put it. No more disposable cups." Mulder nodded. He looked over the setup while sipping his coffee. he thought to himself. The thought made him chuckle. When Fitzpatrick looked up, Mulder just smiled and shook his head no. Done with his paperwork, John led Mulder out to his International Scout. Opening the back gate, "Go ahead and get in, I need to get Fifi and Pierre," John told the Fed. Mulder got in the passenger seat of the Scout and latched the seatbelt. <'Fifi'? 'Pierre'?? What sort of police dog names are they? What does John have, a couple of teacup poodles,> Mulder thought, chuckling. The image of two balls of fluff gnawing around a perp's ankle added a twinkle to his eyes. Mulder turned around as he felt the Scout bounce as first one, then a second heavy weight landed on the open tailgate. coursed through his mind. And came nose to nose with a monster in black and mahogany. It was a Rottweiler, watching him, his mouth open just enough so that the agent got a good view of the flesh-rendering teeth. And so that the tongue could comically slip out the right side. And there was a second one, maybe a little smaller, sitting beside it. "That's Pierre in front of you, Fifi is sitting behind me," John's voice interrupting Mulder's testicles retraction into his abdomen. "Pierre, Fifi," Mulder croaked out, eyes not leaving the dogs. he thought. "Yes," John responded, starting the Scout. "They're good dogs. Pierre's about 150 pounds, . . ." "Interesting names," commented Mulder, relaxing. "Yea. Just seemed to fit, though. Rotties being such big gentle critters and all. Goo's Angus is one of their pups. Runt of the litter" "What do you know about the house we're checking out," Mulder asked, looking out at the passing spring countryside. "It's the old Roger's place. Family been renting it out to skiers and vacationers for the past several years. I called them in Ohio this morning and they haven't had any body staying they for the past month. They seemed happy that I was going to check it out." The dogs watched the humans for a few minutes, and when it seemed that they were not going to get a snack or attention, they like all good carnivores, slept. "What is it like, working for the FBI," Fitzpatrick asked, interrupting Mulder's reverie. Mulder asked himself. "Not as much fun as Efram Zimbilst, Jr had. There's a lot of surveillance work. A lot of travel to little backwater towns that make Aurora look like a busy metropolis. Scully and I have stayed in fleabag hotels in little places like Yeehaw Junction, Florida, Mantoon, Illinois, Atomic City, Idaho. Our boss is an ex-Marine who would ride my ass all the time except for OSHA regulations. But he is also there when we need him. There are some positive sides of this job, you get generally interesting cases. And if you need technical help, it's only a phone call away. Half the time I spend in a dark basement office profiling serial killers, the rest of the time, Scully and I take on cases that the FBI have labelled unsolvable." "Mulder, it sounds to me like this job sucks the big one. If it is as bad as you describe it, then why do you stay with it," John asked Mulder. "Because in my ten years of doing this, I have put away more than my fair share of killers and rapists. That is what makes this job bearable." Fitzpatrick hazarded a quick look at the 'Fed'. he thought. "We're here. I'm going to park here on the road as not to disturb any evidence," John said. Mulder approved of Fitzpatrick pulling off the paved road and checking out the dirt driveway of the house. The two found a faint pair of tire tracks. "Nice sized tires," Mulder remarked. "Yes, they look like maybe truck tires," John commented, writing down notes and measurements in his notebook. "Mind if we walk back there. It's only a couple of hundred yards, and less chance of disturbing evidence." "OK," Mulder said, getting out his trench coat, John, his parka and a camera bag. The wisdom of Fitzpatrick's suggestion was proved walking. They found several more places where there were tire tracks and several bent branches. Branches bent at just the right height for a normal sized van. Mulder enjoyed the walk. The air was crisp, the sun was shining, and the buds were starting to open. The two dogs walked to either side of the men, Pierre to Fitzpatrick's left, Fifi, to Mulder's right. Mulder admired the way the sun glistened on the dog's shiny coats. The dogs walked, no pranced, down the driveway. It was obvious to the Agent that they were enjoying their walk in the sun. A slight sound made him look over at John and Pierre. Pierre was looking up into his master's face, with a look of pleading that even Mulder could read. "Go ahead, you two," John softly said to the two dogs. The dogs broke ranks and ran off together into the woods. "Little chance of finding any decent evidence here on the driveway," he told Mulder almost apologetically. The dogs had rejoined the primates by the time they had gotten to the house. They walked around it together surveying the place. Fitzpatrick had a small video camera out videotaping the exterior. "Just making a record," he told the G-man. It was a nice little house, Mulder decided. It was single story, about 30 feet square. The roof was shingled and the walls were aluminium siding. There was a small lawn around the place and a ill- maintained grove behind it. They found a place that might have been a parking place for a truck or van. The house itself proved to be a bit of a disappointment. A broken window in the front door had allowed someone to bypass the doorlocks. The two men checked out the house together, John doing most of the checking, Mulder letting him run the show. He liked what he saw in the Deputy Sheriff. He knew how to investigate a scene without destroying evidence. After checking the living room, they moved to the kitchen. "You know, there is something about this place that doesn't add up," John told Mulder looking through some cupboards. "This place is too clean. Vagrants don't have much invested in a place and tend to be messy, if not outright destructive. But here, . . . they didn't do much. Except for a little ash in the fireplace and the broken window, there's nothing." Mulder hadn't done much in the way of 'vagrant' investigations, but had to agree that something was off. Something was making the hairs on the back of his head raise. He had been in the field too long, not to know that sometimes his instincts picked up on things that his mind did not. "I agree," Mulder turned around surveying the room. "Something is not right here." "Mulder, come over here please," asked Fitzpatrick. "Got any idea, what these might be," he asked the Fed, pointing out some little red balls. Mulder leaned down to take a better look. They were several little red balls lodged between the kitchen counter and the wall. "Damifino," answered the Fed. "But I do have an evidence bag to stick them in," he continued, pulling out one of the official FBI (even had the FBI seal on it) plastic bags. John lent him a pair of tweezers, that Mulder used to collect as men of the items as he could. They did not find anything else of note in the house. They checked each of the rooms a second time, still finding nothing, still with a feeling of missing something. They got into the Scout, and headed back towards town. They had been driving for a few minutes when the deputy cleared his throat. "Agent Mulder," he said. Mulder knew that he was in trouble when a local starts using the 'Agent' honorific after they have been talking for a while with out it. "Agent Mulder," he repeated. "What do you mean by 'profiles'". Mulder grimaced. "Profiles are perhaps better described with the term, psychological profiles. A profiler takes the information from the crimes, analyses it, and writes a determination of what the perp is like. Part of what you do is to get inside the heads of both the perp, as well as the victim. At one point I was dealing with so many cases, and so much travelling, I had trained my dreams to go through parts of the case. I finally just got to a point where I could not take it anymore. I was able to get a transfer to a less stressful department. Although I still get called in for the cases that the normal profilers cannot make any headway in. Doesn't happen all that often." They drove quietly until they got back to the outskirts of town. "Want some proper North Carolina barbecue, Mulder," John asked. Mulder looked over at the Deputy, "That sounds good, where?" "Buffy's," John said licking his lips. As they pulled it, it looked interesting to the Agent. 'Buffy's' was a smallish place that looked like it had gotten it's last facelift sometimes in the '60s. The exterior was covered in white enamelled panels and there was a 57 Chevy sitting on the roof with a mannequin dressed as a waitress standing beside it. The dining room was shared with a burger joint named 'Biff-Burger'. Mulder thought as he got out of the Scout. Mulder wasn't quite certain how good the food was going to be. He knew that in the South, much of the best barbecue will be found in places the Health Inspector would close down, if it wasn't for the fact the owner was his brother-in-law. But here, the food was good, the iced tea sweet, and the waitress brought out a plate for each of the dogs. Theirs lasted even less time than the humans. "I bet you have a fancy office in Washington," Fitzpatrick stated. Mulder laughed. "Sometimes it seems that you end up with the lousiest working environments possible. Right now, Scully and I work in the basement of the J. Edgar Hoover Building in Washington. It's often dark and hot, but it's not the worse office, I've had. The first was the absolute worst. I was right out of the FBI Academy, and they assigned me to the Behavioural Sciences Unit. While we never could get a straight answer, I still believe that the offices were in some old law enforcement fallout shelter that had built sometime in the 1960's. We were 60 feet down in a windowless sub-basement. It was cool and damp, just the place to put a bunch of psychologists. We used to joke that we buried 10 times deeper than a corpse. There was nothing but florescent light, and the air was sucked down from the surface for us. Well, I had just came back from my first trip out of town, and there was a drill scheduled for that day. A drill that my fellow agents had not bothered to tell me about. Well, the warning sirens sounded, and the ventilation system stopped running. I didn't know what was going on so I started to run for the elevator. I was in the last dash for the elevator when the blast door closed in front of me. I'm starting to sweat when the florescents die and all we have is the emergency lighting. Now I am sweating big time. And they let me stew for about an hour. Then they let me know what was going on. We all had a good laugh about it." Section 9 follows. Appalachian Idyll - Part 9 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 11:45AM Wenesday, March 8 Goo's Office "Pass the lowly pasternoster pea." ----------- Goo and Scully looked up from some papers as Mulder walked in the office. "Hello, Mulder," Goo said as greeting. How was the investigation." "Fine, just fine," he replied as he set in one of the empty sidechairs. "We didn't find that much out there, the place was too clean. It didn't feel right either. Fitzpatrick noted that the place was way too clean for someplace that vagrants were staying at." Scully looked up from her report. Mulder was too right with his hunches and guesses too much of the time for them to be disregarded out of hand. "Did either of you have any idea who may have been staying there," she asked. "No. We did find one thing though, these red beads," he replied. Mulder pulled out the evidence bag containing the red balls and passed it to her. "Got any idea of what these are, Scully?" She squinted at the little objects through the thin polythene. "Not a clue. Doesn't look like . . ." Scully started to say something, then started to drift off, as if something came to mind. She passed the bag to Goo for her perusal. "Mulder, there was something from the lab results of what the victims had in their stomach and intestines. Something about a red powder of some sort." "Yes, there was. They were never quite sure what it was, And by the time the lab got the sample, it was too digested for any good chemistry testing." Goo took a good look at the contents of the bag and something clicked. "Gang," she said quietly. When that did not get their attention, "Dana, Mulder, I think I know what these beads are." Both agents turned their eyes and complete attention to the svelte blond. "At my confirmation, my mother gave me a rosary that had been in the family since 'The War'." The way Goo had said 'The War', both Scully and Mulder were certain it was The War of Northern Aggression, aka, the American Civil War, she was referring to. "The beads in it are just like these. My mother called them 'Paternoster Peas,' and said that they were poisonous." Her eyebrows went up, and the corners of her mouth went up in a smile, "Does this make me a suspect?" "Do we Marandaize her here, or at the Sheriff's Office, Scully," Mulder said in a joking tone. "No, not unless you've been gone alone on business for most of the past 4 months, and we find a large supply of these peas in your house. But," he quickly turned to his partner. "According to your book on poisonous plants, paternoster peas do contain abrin." Scully gave one of these rare smiles that lights up one's entire face and laughed. "We know that the victims died from ingesting abrin. But we never could figure out how the perp got the poison." Taking a good hard look at the bag. "If your identification is correct, we have a link." "And those things are easy to find in Florida and Central America," Mulder commented, remembering the article in the book on poisons. "Goo, we need to get an evidence team out to that house pronto. Neither Fitzpatrick nor I were looking for much in the way of evidence for anything. We probably over looked something." "No problem. I'll call Grimes. He'll want to send somebody out there to keep an eye on the scene. We don't have anybody here in Goff County with this expertise, Grimes will contact the SBI and have them send out a team. I can have a courier take a sample of these peas to the state lab in Asheville for tests. We should know by morning," said the blond DA. A few phone calls, and everything was moving. "Shall we head out on our field trip," Goo asked her FBI companions. As they were leaving the building, they stopped in and filled in George and Harold. They were equally excited with the development and wished Goo and the Agents 'Good Luck' on their hunting. 1:00PM Wednesday, March 8 Foyer, 'Brick House' "Mulder earns himself a kick." ------ Scully was quite pleased with herself. All of her jeans and other 'outdoorsy' clothing was still in the closet in DeeCee, she had packed nothing but suits and dresses when they had left the day after Christmas. But she had found a nice plain blue cotton blouse in her suitcase, and paired it with a charcoal gaberdine pair of slacks. A pair of canvas Keds on her feet. Not the best selections she knew, but the best she could come up with. A noise from Mulder quickly brought her back to the present. Goo was starting to come down the stairs and Scully suddenly felt frumpy, the pleasure of her cleverness fading. She knew that the willowy blond had done nothing special, but she still looked like she had just stepped out of a Vogue layout on camping. The combination of hiking boots, hiphugger jeans, tank top, and a flannel shirt was a natural. Scully remembered wearing the same outfit shopping before Christmas. But on Goo they just worked perfectly. The feminine curves were chastely hinted at. The clothes had that slightly worn look that told you that these were real clothes being worn by a real person, not props worn by a model. And Scully would be willing to bet her spare clip that the braid Goo had put her hair in was perfectly hanging from the hole in the back of her baseball cap. Not a hair would be out of place. Scully didn't know whether to shoot her hostess or kneel down and cry. Another noise reminded her that her partner was standing beside her. Her anger flared, she couldn't blame Goo for looking so leggy and perfect, while she looked short and 'cute'. She clipped Mulder in the shin with the side of her foot. "That's for staring," she told him under her breath. "I wasn't . . .", he started to say, But the look on the redhead's face told him to shut his yap. A brief sparkle caught Scully's eye and she looked back to her host. the forensic pathologist thought, The realization came to Scully where the sparkle had came from, Goo had a belly button ring. Goo felt a little self conscious. Both Scully and Mulder were looking at her and should could not figure out why, She wasn't wearing anything special. After she got to the bottom of the stairs, she gave herself a quick inventory. Everything seemed to be in place. Except that the tanktop had ridden up a bit and exposed her belly button. And the 18 caret loop in it. "Like it," she asked her guests. "I had my belly button pierced while I was still back at State. A youthful indiscretion." All three laughed as they turned and left for the field. Mulder had given Goo a profile of places that would be likely to have remains left by Anders. Small, unused homes, both with good access to roads, but far enough from them to allow privacy. And a well or tunnel that could be used to hide bodies. She had located 4 farmsteads that matched the profile easily. And today they would be visiting them. The first three met the profile exactly. But there were no bodies found. The worst thing the three houses had brought them was ruined clothing. The brambles and North Carolina clay had done their worst on the two Federal agents. Mulder had fallen in a puddle and ripped a foot long hole in his sweatpants. Scully had not fared any better. The button collar, Oxford cloth blouse still looked as school-girl neat as when she had put it on. Her fitted wool gaberdine slacks did not. The trail back to the well at the second house went by brambles. They did not draw blood, but the right leg of the trousers were shredded like cole slaw. And it did not help Scully's and Mulder's feelings when she called back at them to hurry up. They looked up at their hostess with death in their eyes. She still looked as neat as she had then they left the house. The crease on her clean jeans was still sharp, and the tank top and flannel shirt was still clean. The fourth house was different. The home was much like the other three that they had seen. Siding that had last been painted about V-J Day, a galvanised roof that had gone red with rust. Several outbuildings that just about fallen in. "This way," Goo called out, leading the FBI agents down the trail. "According to Mom and Dad's notes, this house had a rather large spring house down this trail." They got the first whiff of death then they first saw the spring house. It was the sickly sweet smell of corruption. A faint humming was an undercurrent of sound. A quick look at each other, and Mulder and Scully scouted on either side of the half buried building. Goo had to smile when she realized that it reminded her of when Angus and Kiss found a turtle in the yard and investigated it. No communication, just quick, efficient work. Goo held back the few minutes it took for them to check things out. When Mulder waved her forward, she was relieved. But It was relieve that was short lived. Mulder went down the short flight of steps and opened the door to the out building. As the door opened, the source of the hum was seen, thousands upon thousands of flies boiled out of the doorway. A few steps and the three heroes found their body. Or what was left of it. The flies had been industrious, laying their eggs in the dead flesh. What had been the mortal shell of a man, was now a mass of seething maggots. Goo took a tentative step towards the body and swallowed. Turning to the agents, "I think I need to check something on the Jeepster," she said, swallowing again. She didn't wait for acknowledgment when she quickly climbed out of the building. The sound of retching was heard within seconds. Scully and Mulder gave each other a quick look, seeing the dead is never easy, and this was a particularly messy one. Scully thought. "Mulder, why don't you radio this in," she said with a faint smile. Mulder smiled his thanks as he quickly exited the building. Scully half listened for Mulder's distress as she slipped on her latex gloves(Size Extra Small, Surgeon's Extra Thick). Hearing nothing, she knelt down. Scully thought to herself. The maggots and decay had ruined enough of the face to make identification hard, if not impossible. But ID's are typically heat sealed in plastic, and Anders left her victim's on them. A few minutes of poking and she had in hand a plastic wafer, with a faded thumbnail photograph of a smiling 40-something man. "Gary Fritz," she read under her breath. A name on the list, a name on a list she remembered as well as Mulder. A family could stop worrying and start grieving. Mulder walked up to the Jeepster. He hadn't lost his lunch, but it had been close. He understood Goo's stomach distress, he didn't quite understand how his partner could keep examining dead bodies, but then, she had mentioned that she did not understand his ability to get inside killer's heads. "How are you feeling, Goo," he gently asked the quiet blond sitting in the driver's seat. "I'm so sorry, Mulder," she said turning to the agent. "I didn't mean to act like a kid there and lose it, but it was just too much." "I've seen seasoned agents that have lost their lunch at less. Don't worry about it." Picking up the police band walkie-talkie, he radioed in the find. The dispatcher acknowledged and told the agent that the SBI would be requested to send out a crime scene team. "Hello," they heard Scully's dulcet tones coming from the trail. "You two okay?" "Yes," Mulder yelled back, as they saw the petite redhead walk up, small evidence bag in hand. "Gary Fritz," Scully said simply, handing the bag to her partner. "Federal employee out of Danville, Virginia. Works . . .worked for the EPA," Mulder finished, recalling the case from memory. "Now what," Scully asked. "I think you two need some new duds if we're going to keep doing this," Goo said, looking at the agent's ruined clothing. Mulder and Scully looked at each other and laughed. Scully's neat pressed blouse and trousers now bedraggled and torn. Mulder's sweats now caked with North Carolina clay. Scully looked at Goo and asked the question that had troubled her since the brambles, "Goo, how did you keep from ruining your clothes like Mulder and I?" Goo let out a alto laugh and smiled at the two agents. "Its simple, Dana. I know enough not to brush up against brambles. And I learned long ago not to step in wet clay. Now look at you. I'm not quite sure what to do with the two of you. Dana, we can hem your pants and make a cute pair of shorts. But, Mulder, I'm afraid that those sweats are going to be red the rest of your life." She sat there for a second looking at the agents, idly resting her chin in the palm of one hand. "Devil Dogs," she finally exclaimed. "Devil Dogs," Scully responded, the question in her voice. she asked herself. "Yes, Devil Dogs. Devil Dog Dungarees, to be exact. They are a North Carolina manufacturer of work clothing. They have several plants in Zebulon, as I remember. If we are going to be doing much tramping around in the woods, you two will need the appropriate clothing. And a pair of Devil Dogs and some boots will be just the ticket. And there is a store in town that will be open late." When they left DeeCee, Scully had not expected to have to go tramping around in the woods. It was winter so out came the wools and the sweaters. And in her closet, there were several pairs of blue jeans, dungarees if you please, ranging from a ratty pair she had bought while she was still in college, to a pair of Chanels, she had bought for a date. And a couple of pairs of hiking boots, just made for tramping around in the woods. A quick glance at Mulder for comment, and she nodded. They stopped by Goo's for a quick change of clothes (and a shower for Mulder) before heading downtown. The store was sort of a general store, with a little bit of everything for the grower or tourist. Scully came out looking like she was ready for the Appalachian Trail, silk tee tucked into belted Devil Dogs, a matching Devil Dog jacket, and a pair of leather hiking boots. Mulder was not quite so dapper, keeping the (clean) sweatshirt, but donning a pair of Devil Dogs to cover his legs. Supper was jointly agreed that the Chinese from "The 'New' Red Lantern" was just the ticket. They had just set down to hot tea and their menus when Goo spoke up, "Let me make a quick call to 'Heckle & Jeckle' to see if they might want some take out." The agents nodded their agreement. Both Mulder and Scully agreed that for state bureaucrats, they weren't bad to work with. Goo came back with a long face. "Gang, our 'Lords and Masters' have some plans for us," the blond told the agents after the waitress took their orders. Scully's raised eyebrow was the redhead's primary response. Mulder's boyish looks hardened with a certain wariness. "Heckle and Jeckle told me that the State's Attorney want to talk with use Friday, all day. Sorry." "Not a big deal, we'll take a early morning flight to Raleigh, then take a evening flight back," Scully said look from partner to Goo. Goo smiled one of those sad smiles you use with little kids that do not understand the world. "Scully, there are no local flights that fly into Raleigh." She sat back in her chair. "Actually, there are no local airports at all. And by the time you drive to the airport, you might as well, just have driven to Raleigh. You're in the boonies guys." The agents looked at each other for a second. "If we must, we'll drive. It isn't like we haven't driven in North Carolina before," Mulder finished. "OK," Goo replied with a smile. "What are you two doing Sunday?" Mulder laughed. "Nothing. We haven't been anywhere long enough to make any sort of plans for a couple of months now." "How about coming with me to Mass, brunch, and the Spring Social and Ball?" Scully looked to Mulder, Mulder looked to Scully. This was a more complex subject than the serial killers and alien blood suckers they normally handled. So he shrugged, she gave a quick, almost unnoticeable nod and consensus was reached. "Sounds good," Scully answered. "Is there anything we can do to help with any of this," the petite agent asked. Goo smiled her thanks, "Actually there is, Dana. Part of the 'Spring Social' is a baked goods raffle and I'm afraid that I don't bake that well." Mulder's snort of disagreement brought the maitre d' coming to the table. Mulder waved the man off. Goo flashed Mulder a quick smile of thanks and continued, "Not against people like Tammy and some of the other people of Aurora. But I do help out, manning one of the booths. Would you be willing to help out, I don't know which booth it will be this year, but it shouldn't be that taxing." "No problem, we'll be glad to help, won't we, Mulder," Scully answered. The last phrase said pointedly at her partner. "Yes, Scully, anything we can do, Goo. Anything at all." Mulder smiled. Section 10 follows. Appalachian Idyll - Part 10 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Thursday, 9 March >From Smalltown, USA A series by Jerry Riggens Things have quieted down here in Smalltown, USA. Cindy Anders, the accused, has been arraigned on one count of first-degree murder. The arresting officers, FBI Special Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, have started searching the countryside for additional evidence. And things have quieted down in town. My press colleagues have returned to their newsrooms and studios, taking their satellite dish equipped trucks and laptop computers with them. The warmth of spring continues to soak into the populace. The swings are back up in the playground. You can hear the joyous shouts while they play. People are taking down their storm windows and putting up screens. Shopkeepers are putting out bright tubs of flowers for all to enjoy. A church bazaar is planned for Sunday, the ladies of the town are raising money to buy land for a history museum. Booths are going up in the football field, ladies are holding hushed conversations as to what they will be entering in the baking contest. And Sunday evening. The One Hundred and Fiftieth Goff County Cotillion and Birthday Celebration is planned for that night. All of the senior girls from the high school are anchious awaiting their introduction to society. The dance will be held in the ballroom of one of the local Antebellum mansions. But have things really gone back to normal? There are now brown-uniformed State Police pulling guard duty at the normally empty jail. A FBI sedan is often seen in the parking lot of the local courthouse. I've seen the lock- smith's van parked in front of several people's homes this week. Like Pandora's box, once the box that holds urban fears within has been opened, the small town cannot really go back to it's norms of little fear and trust. And is there hope at the bottom of this box? Maybe. I've talked with Sheriff Steve Grimes and several of his deputies. These are men and women whose training matches that of any major metropolitan police force that I have had the pleasure to deal with. These people have a stake in the town that they were born and have grown up in. And these are people that are devoted to the protection of their town. These people, the Sheriff and Deputies of Goff County, are the hope of their small town, now that the Pandora's box of serial killers has has been opened. Our hats are off, and our thanks go to, these members of the small town police departments that stand there, a thin line between their fellow citizens and the criminals that now have moved in to prey on them. This is Jerry Riggins, signing off from another one of America's Smalltowns. Aurora, North Carolina. 12:20PM Thursday, 9 March U.S. Highway 321, North Carolina "Scully enjoys a Twinkie" ------- Mulder watched the world pass by in the perpetual twilight of Polaroid sunglasses. Gone was the bare branches that had greeted him and his partner when they had started on this quest. The world was now clothed in the green of new growth. It was a welcome change. The case was winding down too. They had caught the perp, and the two, maybe three left shouldn't be that much threat. He had been sleeping, The clicking of the turn signal caught Scully's attention. She closed her medical journal and tucked it between the front seats. A stop would be welcome, a chance to stretch. "Goo, gas stop," she called out to the blond in the back seat. Looking up from her copy of "Martha Stewart's Living" magazine, "Thanks, I could use a break." The lithesome counselor rolled her shoulders to loosen them. "I found some interesting desert recipes in this issue." Mulder pulled the Taurus off the highway and into a gas station. He looked over at his partner, a bit of amusement on his boyish face. Scully just shrugged, as if to tell him not to look to her for reason. Goo, seeing Mulder's face reflected in the rear view mirror continued, "I think of much of the stuff in 'Living' to be on par with 'Popular Science' or 'Popular Mechanics'. Projects with the feminine touch." She had a bit of a frown as she continued, "Haven't had that much time lately. Cannot keep up with them they way I used to. You know, between Mom and I we have almost the complete collection of the magazine and Stewart's books." Scully thought to herself. Seeing her partner head towards the store, she thought to give him a warning. "Mulder," he turned and looked at her for a second. "Remember, no sunflower seeds in the hull, get the hulled variety." Seeing the start of his protest, "I know they taste better when you hull them, but I don't want any more complaints from the Motor Pool about having to vacuum the carpet three to four times to get all the hulls out. They still remember the squawk from Newt Guinrich when sunflower hulls came out of the air conditioning ducts." "All right, all right," Goo heard Mulder say as he continued towards the store. Goo could only shake her head, She continued to shake her head as she followed Mulder into the confines of the store. A quick look at her watch reminded her that it was midday. She started to suggest a snack when she saw his hands full of munchies and fresh fruit. She headed for the rack and picked up a 'Moon Pie' and a RC cola. The shoppers found Scully sitting at a picnic table waiting for them. Her smile told Mulder that he had been right to pick up a couple of apples and a Twinkie for his partner. the DA thought to herself. Seeing Scully paying close attention to some butterflies flitting in the soft breeze, she decided to offer to the agents, a perhaps, more convenient situation. "Mulder," her voice low, "Would you and Scully like to share a bathroom?" She had not heard anything, but if these two were a couple, she would rather they be comfortable then sneaking around at night. The question seemed to take Mulder by surprise. His quick smile told Goo that he wasn't hurt by the offer. "Goo, thank you, but while Scully and I are the closest of friends, we are FBI agents and romance is the farthest thing from our minds. Anyway, we know each other too well." He stopped for a second, it almost looking like his ears perking up as he heard Scully take the cellophane off the snack cake. "She's bit off one end of the Twinkie", he paused for a second. "She's bit off the other," and pause, "now she's sucked out the filling. Scully?" The two conspirators looked over at the Titian haired agent. Her tongue was making quick cat-like licks cleaning her lips of creme filling. Her eyebrows raised. "Yes?" "Goo suggested that it might make things easier if we shared a bathroom, Scully." "No, oh no. Goo, I rather like things the way they are. Don't have to worry about He-Man here leaving the toilet seat up." Scully paused for a second. "You're not the first to think that Mulder and I might be having an affair. But, it is really the farthest thing from our minds. However fun and convenient it might be, sooner or latter things would go sour. And then there would be hell to pay." "Yea. Either we get mad with each other and then split up both our working partnership as well as our private lives, or. . . Skinner finds out and we are separated at the FBI and that might split us up personally too. Too much at risk." "And we couldn't live with each other if we wanted to. Mulder is not the neatest of persons all the time. I have seen his hotel rooms at check out look like somebody stired them with a spoon. Goo looked at the two partners. She couldn't help but think that maybe they were trying to build walls around their feelings. But, it was their business, not hers. Looking down and noticing that her Moon Pie and RC Cola was finished, "Shall we hit the road?" Section 11 follows. Appalachian Idyll - Part 11 of 18 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 5:12PM Friday, 10 March CharGrill Drive-In, Raleigh, North Carolina "Just a little bit of greasy meat" ------ "Mulder, look at those beef patties the man is cooking," Scully exclaimed to her partner, as she pointed out the flaming hamburgers on the grill. They were standing looking at the posted menu at 'CharGrill,' a place that Goo said that no trip to Raleigh would be complete without a visit. "What's the problem, Scully," Mulder replied. Goo thought to herself. She could feel herself salivating just thinking about eating one of them. "Mulder, there is so much grease in those things that they catch fire on the grill, doesn't that tell you something?" "Yes, good eating. Scully, I quietly ate what you ordered for me at lunch without any complaint." She looked at him, one of those looks that a mother gives her 5 year old that tells him that she knows that he is exaggerating the truth, just a little bit. "Ok, without much complaint. Not it is you turn to enjoy a bit of good food. And if you're worried about grease, they do have chicken sandwiches." Scully remembered lunch. At the State Attorney's suggestion they had visited 'The Irregardless Cafe.' Scully liked what she saw on the menu, mostly vegetarian with a few fish and chicken items. Everything nice and healthy. Mulder made the mistake of washing his hands when the waiter stopped by to take their order. She ordered a veggie burger in a pita for Mulder and the grilled fish with a glass of chardonnay for herself. She would not have said that Mulder was happy with the meal, but he was a good sport about it. And now, as they say, paybacks can be a bitch. "Ok, get me the GRILLED chicken sandwich and an unsweetened iced tea." "Ok. Any lettuce and tomato," he asked, filling in the ticket. "Yes. Goo, have you ordered", Scully asked, turning her head slightly. "Yes." "Lets sit down and let the gracious male wait for our food. Mulder watched his partner and Goo walk over and sit at the aluminum picnic table. He shrugged, he didn't care, why should he. The next time, Scully would wait for the food. Anyway, it gave him a chance to watch them grilling the food, one could even say, admiring the cooks at the grill. The ladies looked up as Mulder walked up with the food. Mulder looked at the rectangular hamburger buns with a bit of confusion. But one bite told him that he was in Buffet's 'Cheeseburger in Paradise' heaven. Nobody's food lasted that long. And soon enough, it was time to discuss the evening's entertainments. The three were supposed to join a couple of Goo's sorority sisters for drinks at a local country and western bar. But a last minute message at the hotel told Mulder to go to Chapel Hill and watch ACC championship basketball. "You are one lucky stiff," Goo told Mulder. "Uncle Freddy has been going to the ACC games ever since he graduated Law School back in the late '40's. He took me there one time while I was going to Chapel Hill. They have a nice box with a great view. Even have a waiter bringing them drinks and food. Nice going, Mulder." 10:13PM Friday, 10 March Dean Smith Dome, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill "Just reach out and touch someone" ------ The shrill ring of Mulder's cel phone got him dirty looks from the rest of the box. This was the second time that the cel phone had gone off and bothered everybody. And it was Scully again. "Hey, Mulder, Come on back to the . . . bar. Come out and play," he heard her voice, tinny from the tiny speaker in the phone. Mulder looked around. It was the beginning of the 4th quarter of the game, and Duke was ahead of Chapel Hill by 2 points. It had been a hotly contested game, one that everybody around him said would go down in the basketball annals. And the 'everybody' were a powerful group of people. One was the president of the biggest bank in North Carolina, another was a college president, and the third was Speaker of the NC General Assembly. Mulder thought. And they were a great bunch of men, no stuffed shirts, no 'I'm a big wig and you're a peon.' They had made him feel right at home. But the cel phone was distracting them from the game. And that was taboo. "I'm having fun and you're not here. All you do is work . . . work . . . work," continued the tinny voice. He looked around himself. he thought. "You need to get a life, Mulder" "I'm with 3 attractive girls here." The voice got quiet, as if Scully was trying to be devious and sly. And effect that was ruined by feminine laughter and a muffled Scully trying to get them to quite down. "And you can be halfway presentable when you try." He took the phone away from his ear and looked at it. Scully's generally frumpy suits made her claim to be of the clothing patrol rather nebulous. He considered just turning the damned thing off. It was the beginning of the 4th quarter and it promised to be just as exciting as the prior three. And the gentry mentioned going to 'The Mansion' for drinks after they stop by the locker room to talk to the coach. He almost turned the thing off, Scully was in no danger here. They weren't chasing anything that would go after them. They hadn't pissed off anybody in Washington for at least 2 months. It would be just so easy. "Ok, Scully, where are you," he asked into the phone. He would make his excuses, they knew that he was an FBI agent. He would be heading out to meet his partner. 11:21PM Friday, March 10 Ramada Inn, Apex, North Carolina "A Rodent and a Sick Scully" ------ They had been a great bunch of guys. Mulder had in his wallet, social cards with not only their direct office phone numbers as well as their home phone numbers. They had understood that he had to leave to met his partner. They understood that business must at times come before pleasure. . "The next time you're in Raleigh, give me a call, maybe we can get together for a pig-picking or something. And bring your partner, we would like to met her too," one of them had told him. The foyer of the Ramada was generic motel. Mulder pushed through the faux 'saloon' doors into the establishment. He had been in enough honky-tonks and roadhouses while on cases to know that this place was a poor copy. But the songs about a man's wife running off with his truck and dawg were played low and there weren't too many peanut shells on the floor. "Excuse me," Mulder asked the man behind the counter. Mulder didn't mind waiting the few seconds it took for the man to finish what he was doing. Watching him was poetry in motion. In one hand, he had a cocktail shaker, gently moving it, the other was pouring a glass of wine. The wine went on a server's tray, the strained contents of the shaker followed, a few seconds latter. The shaker was dismantled and rinsed, a clean rag came out of the man's back pocket and he gave the already gleaming mahogany a quick rub. "What can I get you," the man asked. He was a little shorter than Mulder, built like a weight lifter. Wide deep set eyes behind small wirerims, a smile below a thick, light brown moustache. Mulder instantly liked the man. "I am looking for join a group of three to four women. One of the ladies is a redhead with blue eyes, about 5 feet 4 inches. Another is blond, maybe five six or five eight, looks like a model." "Oh, you mean Goo. They're in the back," the man said, pointing to a booth at the back wall. "Yes, thank you." "Good. You must be Fox Mulder, G-Man then. I'm Sean Smith. Goo and Dana told me that you would be coming to pick them up. That partner of yours has one hell of an imagination. She had Goo, Rodent, and Pat in stitches with some of the weird tales she was telling them. Things like killer cockroaches, planetary alignments, and flukemen." The bartender sighed. "They were pretty well lit by that time." Mulder couldn't get over the odd nickname, "Rodent," he asked, eyebrows raised. "Yes, 'Rodent.' It's a sorority nickname. I met Goo while we were all students at Chapel Hill. Oh, did you see any part of the basketball game." "Yes, a bit." "Great game, went into over time. The fourth quarter was awesome. They are just now getting to the post-game show," Smith said, pointing to the television up in a corner. Mulder's eyes naturally looked up, and saw the party going on in the winning lockerroom. And a certain bank president, a known university president, and a North Carolina politician that Mulder had just met socially, were in the locker room. Without him. He sighed. "Nice to have met you, I'll be heading back." "Want anything. Mr Mulder." "Coffee, please. I'm the designated driver." As he poured the coffee, he waved away the money Mulder was pulling from his pocket, "Free Coffee or softdrinks for designated drivers. Cream or sugar? Enjoy." Handing Mulder the cup and saucer, nodded and returned to his cleaning. Mulder thought to himself. As he walked back he started to wonder how his partner was feeling. Soon he knew. "What do you do with a drunken Skinner, What do you do with a drunken Skinner, What do you do with a drunken Skinner early in the morning?" "Polish his head until it glistens, Polish his head until it glistens, Polish his head until it glistens early in the morning." "Hey! Yay! We're in the FBI," Hey! Yay! We're in the FBI' Hey! Yay! We're in the FBI early in the morning." Mulder remembered the basic song as one the cadets in the FBI Academy sang about their teachers. "Hey, Mulder. Glad you could make it," Scully slurred the words slightly. Mulder could tell that she had perhaps a bit too much to drink. Not falling down yet, but glad that he had her gun, not her. A bit of fire glistened on her nose. "Scully, what is . . .," he said as his partner turned around. And the light hit the diamond stud that had started the evening as an ornament in her right earlobe, and now graced her right nostril. "Scully, where did you go and get your nose pierced?" "Jack's," was her reply, her body slowing moving to music only she heard. "Jack's," he made the response into a question. "Yes, Jack's. You know Goo," turning to the blond, "Men can so dense." Turning back to her partner. "Jack's. He is a piercer and tattooer in Roser Park Mews. In London." "Dad was military attache to the US embassy in London one year. I was into punk. I visited Jack's." Her crealian eyes tried to focus on the stud. "Hey Mulder, you have a pierced ear. Say, lets go into the office with jewelry." He had it done back when he was at Oxford. "No, Scully, I think we should skip the jewelry. And, since you brought it up, how did you know that I have a pierced ear?" The petite agent took a look at her partner, "Mulder, I've taken care of you enough times to know every inch of your epi. . . epidermis. Turning back to Goo and her friends. "Do you know that Mulder has the cutest . . ." Sitting down, he stopped her. "Ok, Scully, I think that its time to go home. You've had enough to drink." Goo was a little more able to make the introductions. Sitting with them was "Rodent", and Pat, both sorority sisters of Goo. Conversation had gotten around to the point of discussion the differences in living in Washington, Raleigh, and Aurora, when the bartender joined the party. "Hey, Monkeyboy, how about an other round," Goo asked. Seeing Mulder's confusion over the nickname, Sean's shrug telling him, "Me too". "Now, ladies, I think that it is time to head for home. Mulder, here is Dana's tab, you might want to hold on to it for her. You might want to remind her of her evening out." Mulder looked at the tab and let out a whistle before folding it and slipping it into his wallet. Scully would have one hell of a hangover. "Mulder, you are driving Goo and Dana back to their motel rooms." At Mulder's nod, he continued, "Good, I'll take Rodent and Pat back to their apartments." Everybody made their, and for the women, intoxingly tearful, goodbyes and headed off in their cars. Mulder had gotten to US 1 when he heard a pitiful plea, "Mulder, please stop." He turned and saw a very pale Scully. And against her auburn hair and green blouse, it was a horrible sight. The second the car pulled to a stop the door was open and Dana Katherine Scully, MD, FBI Special Agent, was being noisily sick. He quickly turned on the emergency blinkers and got out of the car. He had grounds to be angry with his partner, pulling him away from the game the way she did. And getting drunk and sick just made it worse. But she was his partner, and partners took care of each other. He held her head as the remains of her supper and way too many drinks came up. She smiled her thanks when he helped her sit up in the car seat again. Mulder did a quick check in the back seat where Goo was sitting. She deathly white but was otherwise was OK. The remainder of the drive back to the motel was uneventful. The stay in the room wasn't. "Mulder, let's sing," both Goo and Scully told the agent. "What did you have to drink, you too?" Goo and Scully looked at each other, and started to go through their drinking binge. They had started with dark beer, switched to New York State champaign. They ended up with Irish Mist. Mulder thought. And he was right. Section 12 follows. Appalachian Idyll - Part 12 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 9:02AM Saturday, 11 March Capital Holiday Inn, Raleigh, North Carolina "Good Morning Merry Sunshine" ------ Goo hurt. Goo hurt all over. Goo's toe nails hurt. As the blond slowly woke up, she did not remember ever hurting so much. Every part of her trim 5 foot 8 inch frame was in pain. She might not be totally sure where her pancreas was, but she was certain it hurt too. And the nausea. There was the faint smell of food in the air and her stomach started to do flipflops against her backbone. Her eyes opened. "Good Morning Goo." A cheerful, quiet male voice intruded into her pain. She looked down at the source of the voice. It was Mulder, a shaved, showered, and impeccably dressed Mulder. It was disgusting. "Must you be so cheerful this morning, Mulder," she replied. "There are reasons why they call it being polluted. I'll go wake up Scully." She heard the connecting door open and close. The redhead hurt. But unlike Goo, she knew the names of each of her bodyparts. She could place a name for each and every ache and pain. "Scully, it's time to get up, Scully. I even brought you breakfast." The low male voice intruded into her pain. "Go away," the faint words were heard. "Can't you breathe any quieter," she croaked. "Come on Scully, you've been hurt worse. Anyways. I ordered breakfast. We have pancakes, poached eggs, grits, and lots of orange juice. Time to rise and shine, Merry Sunshine," her partner ordered. The faint smell of what Mulder had ordered for himself intruded. Scully normally had no problems with bacon as a breakfast food. She would occasionally swipe one of Mulder's bacon strips during breakfast. But the smell of maple cured, fried bacon was just too much this morning. She ran for the bathroom. Her stomach had settled down when she heard a knock on the bathroom door. "Go away," she ordered. "No, Scully," came the muffled reply. "I'll shoot." "I've got your gun. So unless you've got your 'Agent 99' pumps in there with you, you will have to come out." Scully opened the door. She knew that she did not look her best in the morning, but this was ten times worse. "Here, drink this," Mulder told her, dropping a couple of tablets into a glass of water. "I'll go get up Goo." He left. When Scully came out of the bathroom, it was after the Alka- Seltzer and washing her face. The smell of the food was still a pain, but she could take it. "Here, sit down," Mulder said while pushing her into a seat. A glass of orange juice, a mug of hot coffee from a carafe, and a plate of toast was placed in front of her. She pushed the toast away. "You need something down there. It's dry toast, so it will be gentle on your stomach. Now eat. She looked over at Goo and her partner. Goo looked about as bad as Scully felt. Mulder looked disgustingly in good shape. She nibbled on the toast. By the ten o'clock check out, everybody was feeling better, and the Taurus was on the road. Goo was in the back, Leaning back against the seat, Ray-Bans over her eyes, and a loose hat low on her forehead. And asleep, dead to the world. Scully was not quite that lucky. She knew what she had done. Mulder was at a major basketball game, and shortly before the end of the game, she called him and pulled him out of the game. And for no good reason. She had hurt her partner unnecessarily. She looked over at him, He looked back, gave her a half smile and reached for the radio. She cringed inside. Often the radio was a source of good-natured arguing while they drove from one crime scene to another. The quiet sounds of classical music filled the sedan's cabin. Scully was surprised, Mulder generally chose hard, sometimes acid rock for driving music. Scully was the one that liked the classical stuff. "No problem, Scully, no problem," she heard him whisper. At that, she relaxed and closed her eyes against the sun. Mulder looked over at his partner. He knew how to drive not to wake her up. And he drove that way, all the way back to Aurora. 4:55PM Saturday, 11 March Our Lady of the Celestial Lights RC Church Aurora, North Carolina "Confession is good for the soul" ------- "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." Scully heard the grilled window slide open. She hated this. Christmas Mass was the last time she had gone into a church, and she had a lot to confess. "Tell me your sins," a dry bass responded. "God has the mercy to forgive all." "I have not attended Mass since Christmas," was the first confession. The list continued, missing Holy Days of Obligation, cursing, having unclean thoughts. She worked her way chronologically to that prior evening. she thought. "I was drunk last night, Father." "The sin of gluttony. Pray to Saint Augustine to give you guidance not to drink to excess. You did not drive after your drinking did you," the Priest asked. "No, Father. I called a friend who was not drinking to come and drive me and a companion back to our hotel rooms." "Hmmm." Scully almost grinned thinking what the Priest would be thinking. "Father, the three of us had gone to Raleigh to discuss a case with some state officials. The companion is a local that needed to be there with us. The friend is my police partner that left a basketball game to come pick us up. We all have separate hotel rooms." There was a momentary silence from the other part of the confessional. Perhaps a silence that lasted for much more than a moment or two. "This would not be the ACC Semifinals that were being played last night," was a quiet question. "Yes, Father. My partner was given a ticket to a box seat for last night's game. He came and picked us up when I called him on his cel-phone." "You pulled your friend away from a major event like that," she heard his voice rise, word by word. "You should be on you knees praying to God that your friend forgives you. Pulling him away from an event like that is a grievous thing, my child. Just grievous." "Father, . . .," she started to no avail. "To atone for what you have done, pray the Rosary. That should be a fitting penance. Now let's pray the 'Our Father' together before you go." "Our father who are in heaven . . " the duet of old priest and young woman finished the ancient prayer. "Now, once you have finished you penance, you will be reconciled with God and your sins will be forgiven. Now go with God and sin no more." "Thank you, Father," the words came automatically was Scully rose from the kneeler. she thought opening the door to the confessional, Mulder saw his friend and partner leave the small mahogany booth. The look she gave him should have made him melt into the marble floor of the church. Instead, she brushed past him and walked up to the front of the church. A cough interrupted this thought. "Attending Mass tomorrow," the gentle older man asked. "Yes, Father," he answered. "Have need of the confessional?" Mulder gave a quiet chuckle. "No. I'm not Catholic. I'll be coming with a couple of people that are." Noting which 'couple of people' the young man was looking at, the priest did not have to make a leap of faith to determine just who was the basketball fans. "Catch the ACC game yestereve," he asked. Slightly taken aback about discussing basketball in a church, Mulder remembered people telling him that the state virtually shutdown during ACC basketball week. So it probably was not far out of line. "Most of it," he admitted. "We have it on video tape. Come by some evening after Vespers, and we'll see about finishing the game." The quick ring of the church bell interrupted the conversation. "End of the time for hearing confessions. Must be off. God be with you." Scully brushed back her hair as she knelt at the front of the church. 'What did you get," a faint whisper intruded from her left. "'Pray the Rosary,'" Scully whispered back. "Same here." Goo admitted. "Did you bring one?" "Yes." "See you in an hour," Goo responded. The two woman's voices rose in prayer as Mulder quietly waited. 7:15PM Saturday, 11 March Scully's Bedroom, Brick House "How something so ugly can be missed" ------- "Hold still for another moment," Goo asked the blue eyed agent. A quick knot on a piece of buttonhole silk, and she was done. "OK, I've finished hemming the skirt. Why don't you look in the mirror?" Scully nodded to the blond and walked over to the mirror. She had been shocked to find out that the gown she was wearing had first been worn in the cotillion of 1859, but assured by the lady at the historical society that occasional wearing actually helped air out the gowns. She liked what she saw in the mirror. The gown, was a confection in white moire silk. The full skirt had flowers in raised terry velvet. The bodice was pointed front and back with short puffed off the shoulder sleeves. she thought to herself. Goo smiled watching the copper haired agent turn in front of the mirror. she mused. "Comfortable," she asked. Scully flashed her a quick smile. "Yes, quite. It feels almost like it something made to be danced and partied in." "Good." thought the petite agent. The gown, made a century before she was born, fit exquisitely. The crinoline that held the full skirt out was not heavy. The bodice was more comfortable that many of her modern suitcoats. Seeing the silver butt of her gun told her what was the matter. she thought. A gun had been a part of her ever since the first one had been issued to her at Quanticao. It had been either at her waist or in her purse, even being with her when she went to confession earlier that day. She knew she would feel uncomfortable without it tomorrow night. Her FBI ID and a few bills she could tuck somewhere, but her Smith and Wesson was just too big. She had an idea. "Mulder," she called out going to the bedroom door, "Bring your ankle gun and that knee support you use." A quick smile to Goo quieted her questions. He arrived in a moment. "Here they are. They don't quite go with the outfit, do they", he asked, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "Simple," she told her partner. She started to pull up the skirt. "I'm shocked. Showing us your legs, you wanton hussy," Mulder said, the teasing tone of his voice taking the fire from the words. His eyes swept the room, a mirror image of his own. And different in other ways. His room had been Goo's older brother's. And it still had the empty feeling of an once occupied room has. Not that it was empty, there was a comfortable bed, nice chest of drawers, even an overstuffed chair with a lamp for reading. And the papered walls were not bare, the brother's high school diploma, now framed, shared space with old ancestors, several of which ended their days in places like Bull Run and Gettysburg. But this room looked lived in, alive. The bed, now slightly rumpled from being sat upon, had an impossibly pink stuffed bear guarding it from atop one of the pillows. The pictures of dead ancestors were joined by ones of Goo and her, Mulder assumed, parents, Goo and friends in Girl Scouts at Natural Bridge. There was music playing, Goo was kneeling in front of her own Carolina Blue gown, checking on a century old piece of lace. There was life here. More life than there was in his own spartan bachelor pad or Scully's IKEA apartment. "You've seen more than this at the FBI pool," Scully's alto brought him out of his daydream. "And Goo, ask him sometimes about a pair of red Speedos getting banned at the pool after the riot." Mulder half choked trying not to laugh. Scully continued, "I need to have a gun with me tomorrow at the dance. And this one is nice and small." She removed the strap that generally held the gun to Mulder's ankle, substituting the longer strap. "And your knee support should be just the thing to hold it up," she told him pulling up the side of the skirt. A quick motion and the gun and holster was secured just above her shapely knee. She admired her ingenuity for a second, dropped the skirt, and walked across the room. "That will work," she said, satisfied with the feel Leaning back against the door jamb, Mulder watched his partner work. "Ever consider the trick they show on 'Silk Stockings'," he asked. "Yes. But the elastic at the top of the hose isn't strong enough to hold a pistol any length of time," she answered. Seeing her partner's raised eyebrows, she continued. "Right after I was issued my first gun, a couple of the female students at Quantico tried it. Didn't work worth a damn. Anyways, I'll be wearing knee-highs tomorrow, the gun would be too low." "We could test it further," Mulder jokingly suggested. Scully gave him a quick grin, "In your dreams, partner, in your dreams." Section 13 follows. Appalachian Idyll - Part 13 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 08:15AM Sunday, 12 March 'Brick House' kitchen. "Not yet time for breakfast" ------- Mulder was confused. The kitchen was cold and empty. He remembered that they were going to go out for brunch after 9 o'clock Mass, but expected that Goo would have at least have had a pot of coffee going. After the morning run and shower, even a bowl of grits would have been welcome. "Morning, Mulder," Goo's happy voice intruded into his thought. "Good morning, Goo." Mulder was torn. He would like something to eat. But Goo was their hostess, not a restaurant manager. He felt odd bringing up the subject. "Good Morning, Goo, Mulder," Scully's dulcet tones joined the conversation. Noticing Mulder's unease, Goo decided to walk right into it, "Something wrong, Mulder. You are looking a little out of it." He sighed. "Breakfast," he asked, the puppydog look on his face. Goo was confused. "Oh. Yea," Scully's eyes opened a bit. "That's right, you're not Catholic, are you Mulder," Scully asked. "No. Raised Methodist." "That explains it," Goo said to Mulder. "You're not used to the idea of fasting before Mass. Would you like me to make you something quick?" Scully's mouth opened in a big grin, "No, Goo. A short fast will do him some good. Maybe even clear out some of that cholesterol. Sorry partner, no food for you until brunch." Grabbing her coat, "Shall we leave then?" 11:15AM Sunday, 12 March The Aberdeen Dining Room. "Now it is time for breakfast" ------- Mulder followed the ladies through the doors into the dining room. The sight of the thirty foot food line brought a slightly irreverent comment from the seasoned agent, "Oh, My God." Goo looked from Dana to her partner. Dana's eyes were open wide at the food displayed in front of them. Mulder slowly shook his head looking at the table in front of them. she mused. Scully was uncertain where to start. Her medical training told her that a breakfast of fresh fruit and juice would be a good start to the day, the Epicurean side told her that the fruit and juice would be a good place to start. When she sat down at the table, she realized that before her was not the luncheon plate found at most brunches, but a full sized dinner plate. she thought smiling. Mulder's thought of which of the two plates to start with was interrupted by a waiter leaving three filled champagne flutes on the table. "Champagne for breakfast," he asked not totally expecting an answer. "'Fraid not, Mulder, county's dry until 1 o'clock. Sparkling apple cider," answered Goo taking a sip from her glass. Scully watched the people around them enjoy their meal. In one corner was the priest sitting and talking with several of his parishioners, in another, a table was filled with older ladies she recognized as having been at Mass. Before she noticed, 3 empty plates were sitting in front of her. "Enjoy your meal," her partner smirked. "Better than your cooking, Mulder," she said dryly. Goo smiled enjoying the byplay between the two FBI agents, but a quick glance at her wristwatch told her it was time to go. "Shall we leave for the bazaar," she asked. 1:00PM 12 March Our Lady of the Celestial Light's HS Football Field "A New Life Experience" ------- Scully looked over the football field with a bit of excitement. The field was filled with colorful booths and people visiting them. She could smell the elephant ears and cotton candy. She liked 'homey' things like church bazaars. And this was looking like it was going to be a doozie. "Hello, Tammy," she called out to the Brooklyn transplant as she walked past them. Feeling Mulder's eyes on her, she turned and shrugged her shoulders, as if it say, "Hey, everybody else is doing it." And everybody was. The entire town had turned out for the church bazaar, and everybody was happily greeting each other. "Hello yourself, Dana. Good Morning, Goo, Mulder," the brunette baker greeted each of them. She turned to her lawyer friend, "Goo, Billy Bob just dropped out of judging the desserts. Got any last minute suggestions?" A quick smile alerted the world the Dana Scully had an idea on whom could help out. And a quick jab in Mulder's ribs told the world her idea. "Hey," Mulder cried out, "What the . . .." "Well, thank you Mulder. Tammy, I'm certain that Mulder will be more than happy to help out judging the deserts," Scully said, speaking up for her partner. Mulder turned and glared at his partner. the gaze communicated on their private wavelength. A Bronx cheer on the same wavelength was her replay. He turned to the brunette baker and said, "I will be glad to help out with the judging. When does it start?" "Right away if you're able," Tammy replied. Everybody followed her to the competition area and looked over the competitors. It was a wide variety that greeted them. Mulder looked over a lemon meringue pie shaped like the state of North Carolina, a gingerbread house made to look like the Governor's mansion, a pig made of salmon pink cottage cheese. Even a model of the State Capitol made of sugar cubes. "I don't know if I would want to taste test many of these," Scully commented, looking at the cottage cheese pig. "You don't. These are subtilties," Tammy remarked, halfway down the row. At everyone's questioning look, she continued. "A subtilty was an item presented with great fanfare at a medieval feast. It looked grand and glorious and was carried around so everybody could see it and then presented before the guest of honor. The old nursery rhyme of 'Four and Twenty Blackbirds,' was about such a item. But they were never eaten." Then came the grandest and the most glorious of all that they had seen. "Thanks for coming by," a little gray haired lady, told the two agents. She was standing in front of a dining room sized table, something about a yard across propped up at a shallow angle on it. As they got up to it, they could tell what it was. "Oh, My God, Scully, do you believe it," Mulder whispered quietly, "It's perfect." Scully could but nod her agreement to her partner. Turning to the lady, she found a few words, "Ma'am, I walk past and over that thing several times a day, and I have never seen it in this way before." Against a board covered in tinfoil, was a rendition of the FBI seal as a three foot Jello mold. The blue of the background was done in blueberry Jello, the gold in lemon. Surrounding it was the words "Welcome Agents Scully and Mulder," in red and green 'Jello Jigglers' letters. The lady had copied the design set in the floor of the Hoover Building perfectly. Scully thought. "I will never be able to think of the FBI Seal in the same way again," Mulder told the woman straight faced. She beamed. A brief, "Look this way please," and the newspaper photographer recorded the Kodak Moment. Mulder stayed to finish the judging before heading for an awaiting basketball game, while Scully and Goo walked over towards the registration table. "I don't know what we've volunteered for," Goo said. Scully raised an eyebrow at the "we've volunteered for" comment. In reality, Goo had done the volunteering, but Scully didn't mind helping out. Goo had been the gracious hostess, so some reciprocity was in order. Scully's thoughts came to the present when she noticed Goo staring at the two 'Chap-sticks' on the table. "Robin, tell me you're kidding," she asked the older lady behind the table. "No, Goo. You know that the High School cheerleaders normally handle the kissing booth, but when Betsy and Ashley came down with mono last night, we were stuck. Then your Uncle Freddy remembered that you had volunteered to help out, he said you wouldn't mind." the agent thought. She looked to Goo to see how to respond. "Dana, I'm sorry. I thought we might be helping at a food booth, or something like that, I didn't imagine that we would be stuck with this," the blond told her. Scully thought for a moment. She felt a little old to be manning a kissing booth. But as long as it didn't get back to DeeCee or Frohike. "I don't have a big problem with this, Goo. Let's just do it." Goo was relieved to see Scully being such a good sport. "Robin, I'll take this up with Freddy later. Well. Scully, do you prefer Mint or Cherry," Goo said offering Scully her choice of Chap- sticks. As Goo led Scully up to the booths, she outlined the rules. "First, the guy can't lean over too far. He cannot reach into the booth. The farthest he can reach is a line in the middle of the counter of the booth. Likewise, you have to keep your hands on your side of the line too. No open-mouthed kissing. No leaning." As Goo ran down, "Sounds like you've done this thing before," Scully asked dryly. "Hasn't everybody," came the immediate reply. "Here we are, our offices for the next couple of hours." As Scully looked for a place to put her purse, she looked the place over. Her's was next to Goo's. It had a stool, a small shelf under the counter, and enough of a roof that the occupant would not roast in the Southern summer sun. Not that Scully had much time to admire her 'office.' The next quarter hour was filled with customer after customer laying their money down. During a break, she looked over at her compatriot, "How's business?" "Very little," Goo responded, a smile on her face. "Must be the new girl on the block." Scully's eyebrows went up, and then went down as a Goo continued. "You're attractive, cute, and new to everybody." "No wonder the 'young men,' want to visit," Scully finished. She had noticed a large wooden barrel on the side away from Goo. "What's that," she asked pointing out the barrel with her thumb. "Dunking booth. Normally the jock boyfriends of the cheerleaders manning the kissing booths would be over there. But with their girlfriends coming down with mono, . . . ." "They don't want to take the chance," the redhead agent finished. The cogs were moving in the agent's head. She trusted her partner with her life, her honor, and her virtue. But she knew that if he got the chance to rag her about the kissing booth, he would. she mused. "Goo, it's too bad the nice ladies of the 'Altar and Rosary Society' won't have the income from that booth. I'll get Mulder to come out and man the booth. He'll be happy to join in." Goo looked over at the petite agent. "We can ask, but I don't know if he'll fall for it," Goo responded. "Oh, I think so. I think so." Calling out to one of the young men that had been at brunch, Scully asked him to go to the church's rec room and bring back Mulder. Her pleasure at his helpfulness turned to disappointment as he came back alone. "I didn't see him in the rec room. I'm sorry, Miz Scully," he said. And then claimed a kiss with a fresh new dollar bill. "Let me get somebody," Goo offered. A second young man was sent off on a quest. One that he sadly failed at, returning without the FBI agent. And again, Scully's favors were bought with a bill. the agent thought. Calling over another young man. "Johnny," remembering his name, "Please go over to the church rec room and tell Fox Mulder, my partner, that I need to see him. Please be sure to check the kitchen, the restrooms, and anywhere else he may have gone to there." Feeling that her instructions were clear enough, she sent him on his way. But he, like the others, came back alone, he couldn't find him. And put down a five dollar bill. And didn't want change. As Johnny turned to leave, a smile on his face, Scully asked a final question, "Is the basketball game still on?" The young man stopped for a second, "Yes, ma'am. When I was over there, it's was still in the second quarter, and Duke was leading by 20 points." She waved him off and sat down on the stool to think. Absently moistening her lips with the Chap-Stick, she thought for a moment. As the sharp mind of the agent responded to the challenge put before her, she soon came to a conclusion. "That son-of-a-bitch. That lousy, rotten, son-of-a-bitch." Noticing Goo's less than approving look at the language, she continued, "He's still there, he's paying them off." At Goo's raised eyebrows, she sat back on her stool in disgust. 2:45PM 12 March Our Lady of the Celestial Light's 'Rec Room' "Decisions, Decisions." ------- Mulder was torn. The third young man with a 'Get your ass running,' message was walking back to the kissing booth, clutching one of Mulder's five dollar bills in his hand. Mulder thought, hoping the kid would get the pleasure he was hoping for. 3:00PM 12 March Our Lady of the Celestial Light's Kissing Booths "A plan is born" ------- Scully was in a funk. She was stuck here in this stupid kissing booth, and her partner wasn't being stuck in turn. A friendly voice ended her reverie. "You ladies have been doing well." Scully looked up at the voice and smiled at the speaker. It was Ra from the herb shop. "What brings you to our humble place," she asked. "Well. According to the organizers, you have been bringing in the most money of any of the booths. You should be proud of yourselves," Ra said. Scully and Goo mumbled their thanks for the message. "Its too bad that we haven't been able to get the men to help out as much as you have." Scully's mind started working. "But we can't get him up here," she remarked. "If Mohammed won't come to the mountain, the mountain must go to Mohammed," Goo interjected smiling. Scully's mind grabbed at the idea. "So the ladies would have to go and find him. Hmm. Sounds like a plan for me. We would have to give the girls some sort of token or ticket as proof." Scully leaned back against the side of the booth for a moment thinking. "Anybody have an idea for a name." she asked. "Fox Hunt," a cultured male voice suggested. Everybody twisted to see who the person offering the suggestion was. And it was Jer Riggs, standing dapper in a charcoal gray suit, ready for spring with a rose in his lapel, and a straw boater on his head. Nodding her agreement, Scully made the introductions. "'Fox Hunt' sounds good. The use of his first name will vex him," Scully said, thinking all the while that this would be great blackmail to hold over her partner. Ra ran off to the organizer's table to get some tickets for the Hunt. Jer asked the question, "How will Mulder take to discovering he's the hunted fox?" Goo and Scully looked at each other, their visages telling the roving reporter that they had not considered that. "Oh shit," was Scully's only reply. She knew, best of all there in Goff County, how private a man, Fox Mulder was. She knew that the man really did not have any friends other than herself and "The Lone Gunmen." He was not a social butterfly, maybe, just maybe a social pupa. He would probably go along with the joke, but it would not be a good idea for some innocent girl, only wanting a moment's affection from an older man, to surprise him. "Let me write a quick note." Scully pulled a page from her field notebook and quickly wrote a note: Mulder 12 Mar Since you will not come to the mountain, the mountain will come to you. There has been declared a 'Fox Hunt'. Clever, heh! Knew you would like it. You have been selected to be the subject of many young ladies' attention. They will be coming to you with a ticket good for one kiss. Please fulfill their wish. See you after the bazaar ends. DKS she thought. Handing the note to Goo, she awaited her approval. Once Goo nodded her agreement, Scully looked for somebody to run the message to Mulder. Calling over at one of the young men of the parish, she gave him the note and the Chap-Stick to deliver. As he ran off, she noted Goo's look. "He may need it," was the redhead's reply, "And anyway, I did bring some lipgloss." When Ra brought back the tickets, they sold quite well. Even Jer bought 20 of them. Scully looked at him with a question on her face. "Just helping out a good cause," Jer replied. Scully noticed with approval Jer handing out the tickets to the girls around him. He kept one for himself. "Do you think that Mulder would honor this ticket if I presented it to him, Agent Scully?" "I think that he might shoot you," Scully replied dryly. Jer shrugged his shoulders and gave the ticket to one of the awaiting girls. Pulling a dollar bill out of his wallet, he went to Goo and bought a kiss. With a brief salute and a smile, he left. 3:15PM 12 March Our Lady of the Celestial Light's 'Rec Room' "Studmuffin Mulder." ------- Mulder looked up when somebody tapped him on the shoulder and guided his gaze to a brown haired young lady standing in the doorway of the rec room. He was aware of the dirty looks he got as he passed in front of several enrapt fans. When the first girl had shown up, they smiled at the antics, but now, even the priest gave him a dirty look. He looked up at the screen, Duke was doing well, about 12 points ahead. he thought. He got up to the young lady. He gestured for her to lead him out into the hallway, enough privacy for a kiss, but close enough for others to protect against morality charges. "Hello, Agent Mulder, I'm Kylie Loxton," she said presenting Mulder with the chit. A quick glance assured him that it was an original, he looked at her. was his first thought noticing her metre and a half height. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Thank you, Agent Mulder," she said afterwards, her blue eyes bright with excitement, suppressing a giggle. "You are welcome, Miss Loxton," he answered. "Shall we go," he suggested, leading her out of the building. "Are you going to be at the cotillion tonight," he asked, making conversation. "Of course, Agent Mulder," she said coquettishly. She spun on one heel, letting the full skirt spread. "I'm wearing the same white dress my greatgrandmother wore when she was a debutante in nineteen hundred and eight." "White dress," Mulder mumbled, thinking of Scully and Goo the night before. Seeing the young woman's eyes on him, he spoke up. "Do all of the girls wear a white dress, Miss Loxton?" Her look of exasperation, an exaggerated sigh, told the seasoned agent that he had analysed the situation correctly. "Of course, Agent Mulder. All of us wear white when we're presented. We're the only ones that do. Are you going to be there?" He smiled as he nodded. "Will you save a dance for me," she asked hopefully. "It will be my pleasure," he replied, giving her a half bow. He had to smile as she ran back towards the football field and the bazaar. he chanted to himself. He chuckled quietly. His good humor did not last long. The next hour was a game of hide-and-seek. He liked women, even didn't mind when they chased him, but being the target for osculatory assault by girls in their teens was not his idea of fun. But, as he reflected hiding behind a hedge, he got to know several blocks of residential Aurora quite well. "Mulder, how are you doing," was a scary question he heard from the other side of the concealing hedge. "I can assure you that you are for the moment safe from the huntresses." Mulder chanced poking his head up. He had collected a dozen of the 'Fox Hunt' tickets, and was trying to make sure that it wasn't thirteen. He sighted Jer Riggs standing there. the agent fumed, noting the newsman's unwrinkled shirt and still fresh flower in his lapel. "Hello, Riggs." "And hello to my favorite FBI agent," Riggs said, half chuckling. "Enjoying the hunt?" "Loads," Mulder said, looking around for girls waving tickets in their hands. "How did you find me?" Mulder had been pretty good about not getting caught, and wondered how did Riggs get him. "Just waited until you walked by, old chap. But, I am afraid that I must be going," he said as the church bells started pealing 5 o'clock. Mulder walked back with Riggs, the 'Fox Hunt' ending with the ending of the church bazaar. Or so he thought. As he was walking up to the kissing booths, he felt a tap on the shoulder. "Mr. Mulder," a young woman asked. He looked down into a round face graced with brown hair and eyes, and got a gut feeling that he knew what was up. He nodded. And was presented with a 'Fox Hunt' chit. "I am Char Hall. I know that the hunt ended when the bazaar, but I couldn't find you earlier." he thought. Seeing his partner out of a corner of his eye, he took the young lady into his arms and kissed her, adding a little enthusiasm for his partner. "Thank you, Mr Mulder," she said afterwards, a little dazed. "No, thank you, Miss Hall," he responded, turning on the charm. She left, Mulder watching her leave. Scully walked up and stood beside him, the two watching the emptying bazaar. "Have a pleasant afternoon," he asked. "Not all that bad," she responded. Section 14 follows.