PART 4 - R POLICE DEPARTMENT SUNDAY MORNING OCTOBER 29, 2000 - 9:30 AM Mulder stood looking down at the Sheriff Cole as he sat behind his desk. "So, this guy is 42 years old, lives alone, has no relatives that you know of at this time. Or at least no relatives that live in the area." "Right. He does have a sister, Henrietta, younger I think. She doesn't live in the state though. I'm not sure where she lives." "Find her." "Why?" "I want to know where this guy went to school. I want to know what his childhood was like, what his relationships with girlfriends were like." "What are you looking for?" "Evidence of the homicidal triad." I looked at Mulder and back to the Sheriff. Poor guy, I could tell he had no idea what my partner was talking about. "Sheriff Downs, the homicidal triad is lingo of a criminal profiler. It refers to the early stages of mental illness in potential seri al killers. These stages of unrest generally develop into certain behaviors such as cruelty to animals, bed wetting and arson." "Oh." Mulder looked at the Sheriff again. "Sorry, man, didn't mean to be obtuse. I forget that I'm talking to people from Behavioral Science sometimes when I'm thinking like this." "S'okay. Your partner seems to be good at filling in the gaps of your narrative." Mulder and I laughed at that. I looked at the Sheriff. "Yeah, we make a good team." Mulder glanced at me and winked. The Sheriff had an amused look on his face but said nothing. It was harder than I thought to keep my hands off my partner while we were on the job. I found that I wanted to touch him all the time. I was going to have to work on that. It wouldn't do for us to be acting inappropriately within eyesight of anyone fr om law enforcement. The Sheriff asked, "Have you seen the news?" Mulder looked at him again. "No, why?" "They are reporting that the Lockhart house is haunted. They got wind of the occult stuff and they are playing it to the hilt, it being near Halloween and all. Their tag line is "A Real Haunted House for Halloween." "Oh, how trite." "Yeah, well, we are trying to keep the details away from them so they had to make something up. You know how those people are. They are going on about whether or not summoned spirits have aided the madman in his pursuits." Mulder continued. "Sheriff, I would appreciate you doing whatever you can. If you can find this sister and get an address on her and a phone number that would be a big help. If you get her on the phone, ask her a few simple questions like where they we nt to school and what years, high school and college. Then we can go to the schools and get all the records. I will want to talk to her, face to face if possible if you find her. If not, I'll settle for a telephone conversation." "O.K., I'll see what I can do." "Thanks, we appreciate your help, really. You guys have been great with us. We're used to being scowled at and resented and squabbling over jurisdiction with local law enforcement," I said. He smiled. "Not this time. It's been a pleasure. I was completely thrown by the evidence of this case. I knew it was way out my league. You two have amazed me with your ability and perceptions. I didn't even know where to start. To be honest with you, that other bunch didn't impress me that much. They seem awfully impressed with themselves, but I didn't see them figuring much out." I smiled at him. "Well, we have to work with them so we try to get along. We aren't the best of friends with them either. By the way, thank you for phoning the Bureau with your compliments. It got us a day off!" "No kidding? Well, I'm glad. You two certainly deserved it and you both look better rested." Mulder grinned. "We are, thanks. Although it's Sunday, we are going to head out to the farm and see where the teams are with the digging, tagging and bagging. I also want to go through the house again. Something's bugging me. By the way, you didn't h ear anything from the helicopter search, did you?" "Nope, but I imagine they would have told your buddy, Simpson, there if they had found anything." "Thanks, Sheriff, we'll check with him. Scully and I are going to head out now. We'll call and talk to you later. Thanks for coming in on a Sunday." "No problem. Whatever I can do to help, just ask." We left and headed back to the hotel to make some phone calls and see what the lab had come up with so far. We called the forensics team and the excavation team to see where they were at. They had been working three days straight now and were exhausted. We asked Simpson to fax over a copy of the background check on Daryl Lockhart. Mulder decided it was time to do a mini-profile on the monster. We spent the rest of the day going over the accumulated evidence. That evening we took our time making love. I got to be on top and set the pace at languid, riding him for as long as I could before letting go. Exhaustion was threatening, so I finally sped up and brought us both crashing over the edge. We rode out the wave of pleasure and sank into a blissful sleep. I think Mulder actually slept for eight hours straight. He said he couldn't remember the last time he'd done that. LOCKHART FARM MONDAY MORNING OCTOBER 30, 2000 - 10:30 AM We walked slowly through the old plantation house. It was really quite impressive when all was said in done. I had no idea what the place was worth but it was chock full of a fortune in antique furniture. Old claw legged couches I recognized as French antiques. In the living room was the most gorgeous antique Grandfather's clock made of mahogany wood. It's pendulum swung sedately back and forth. I jumped slightly when I heard it 'Bong' the hour. There were some English hope chests and tall armoires graced all three of the bedrooms on the second floor. The bathroom even sported one of those old porcelain toilets with the tank suspended on the wall and a pull chain to flush. I mumbled, "Christ, I feel like I stepped into a time warp." "So, Scully, do think the house the haunted?" "You're joking, right? Mulder, that's just the news media feeding the macabre appetite of the American public." "Maybe. But this guy did have summoning veve's in his repertoire." "So what? You said yourself he's probably in it for the glamour and doesn't know what he's doing with it." "That's the most dangerous kind of dabbler, the one that doesn't know what he's doing. He could get lucky in spite of himself and then not be able to control what he has created." "You're not serious." It was a statement. "We'll see." I decided to let it go. It wasn't worth the argument. Everything was neat and there was little clutter, but the place had an air of neglect. The carpets were threadbare and dust was found on the coffee tables and mantles. Cobwebs peeked out through the cold air return vents along the baseboards. We ducked under the crime scene tape and entered what was clearly the master bedroom. A large four poster bed, sitting up on rather high legs was in the center of the room. Many of the photos taken were of victims on this very bed, tied in various ways. Mulder mumbled, "I wonder where he keeps all the sheets." I gave him a slightly disgusted look at his attempt at morbid humor. He was referring to the fact that each of those photos showed sheets on the bed. Wondering whether he washed and reused them or threw them away was something only Mulder would contemplate. Other photos had shown the victims in the barn, strapped to hay bales and other such various indignities. He began opening the drawers in the armoire and carefully leafing through the piles of tee-shirts and folded overalls. There was an underwear drawer and a sock drawer. I decided to check out the closet, knowing that there would probably be nothing to fi nd. Mulder approached the bed and drew the bed spread down looking at the sheets. They were the old-fashioned cotton-type that would be hard to get blood out of. He ran his hands over the sheets. "Mulder, what are you looking for?" "I don't know. But he has a pattern I haven't discovered yet. I wish I knew the order of the victims murders." "You mean which corpses were made corpses first?" "Yeah, and the identities." "Well, we have most of the identities by now. Post-mortem autopsies will give us some idea. We can tell ballpark times by the level of decomposition and the condition of the old wounds as well as the level of rigor mortis. It's rather an interesting pr ocess, actually, the way they can determine how long the person has been dead. If it's been a really long time, carbon dating of the tissues is possible also. Carbon levels rise as time goes by and decomposition turns the flesh to mush." He held up a hand as a stop sign. "Thanks, Scully, but I'd rather not know the rest." I chuckled. "You can look at pictures of blood and guts all day, go slumming in the mind of criminals, but the thought of a little rigor mortis and decomposition turns your stomach." "Hey, we all have our quirks. Somehow talking about it is worse than seeing it." "You're a strange man, Mulder, did anybody ever tell you that?" He smiled. "Yes, as a matter of fact, they have. Someone seems to mention it nearly every day for the past seven years or so." I smiled at him. "Yeah, well, you're MY strange man now, and don't you forget it." "Oh, don't worry. I won't." Then he caught me off guard when he heaved the mattress up onto its side, holding its bulk over his head. "Mulder, what are you...?" "Oh.My.God." "What?" I flew across the room and rounded the foot of the bed to see what he had found. And I gasped, my hand going involuntarily to my throat. There was a piece of human skin stretched out over the springs, which were exposed without the normal cover of a box spring mattress. It looked to be the front of a woman, the nipples and navel visible, though stretched taut and out of proportion. There was a design drawn in the skin, most likely with a surgeon's small scalpel. Nothing was written on it, but there were numerous colored stick pins along the route of the lines. I swallowed and then whispered. "You think this is easier to take than talking about post-mortem analysis?" "Maybe I should rethink my answer on that one." "Maybe." He shoved hard and the mattress tipped over and off the bed onto the floor. We stood staring at it. "What the hell is it?" "It's a map of some kind. A map to keep track of something, most likely his victims." "Shades of Gaines. Ever read about him?" "The guy who made a suit out of human skin. Yeah, ever behavioral profiler has read about him. I'm surprised you did though." "What are the lines?" "I don't know. They could be constellations, they could be roads. I just don't know, but if we can figure this out, we'll have found his pattern. I'm sure of it. All this stuff just doesn't add up. He's too inconsistent. I've never seen such a disor derly serial killer. It doesn't make sense." "There's a first time for everything." "No, I don't think so in this case. I don't think he's disorganized at all. He's too neat." "But you just said he was." "It looks that way. What I really think is that I just haven't seen the pattern in the chaos yet. It's there, I'm just not finding it. It's bugging the hell out of me." "I can't believe nobody checked under the fucking mattress!" Mulder just shook his head. "They found those pictures and they didn't look any further. They didn't need to figure out who he was, they already knew." "Yeah, but you still do a thorough search, just in case. You never know what you'll turn up." "Don't be too hard on them, Scully, they are small town cops. They've never had to do this kind of investigating. That's why they called us in. They didn't even know where to start." "Yeah, but Simpson and the Barnacles were in here and they certainly should have gone over the place." He nodded his head. "Yeah, well, we already know how good they are at their jobs." "Let's not be catty." "Oh, let's, it's so much fun." I didn't answer. I just took out my notebook and jotted down a description. "Hey, how many colors of push pins are there?" "I don't know. Why?" he asked. "I'm not sure. But see, there are quite a few." He was silent a moment and started listing them off as I wrote them down. "Maroon, purple, light blue, clear, dark green, silver, red, light green, dark blue, black, yellow and a third blue, I guess you'd call it medium blue." "How many is that?" "Twelve." "Twelve, hmm, twelve months a year." "That's it!" "What?" "One color for each month. Birthstones! What are they?" "Uh, January is garnet, February is amethyst, March is aquamarine, April is diamond, may is emerald, June is pearl, July is ruby, August is ... peridot I think, September is sapphire. October, I'm not sure, Tourmaline I think, that could be almost any co lor. But November is Topaz and December is Turquoise, which can also be various colors from blue to green." "How do you know all this?" "You're joking right? A grown unmarried woman who doesn't know her gemstones? Sure, right. Fat chance!" He smiled and shook his head at that. "I never took you for a gold digger, Scully." "I'm not, but every girl dreams of having a rock on her finger, let's face it." He looked at me. His scrutiny was suddenly intense. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Do you have another idea about our monster, here?" "No." "Then what?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "Do you want a ring on your finger, Scully?" My head jerked up to meet his eyes at that comment. He was dead serious. Oh God. "I...yes, I do, but not right this minute." He nodded. "I couldn't give you one right this minute." "I mean, yes, in the future, I think I would like that. Someday." I looked at my shoes. "Someday?" "Yeah, but not yet." "Scully." "Yeah?" "Be sure to let me know when 'someday' comes, all right?" I looked up at him then and the love I saw for me was so apparent in his eyes, I felt myself get choked up. "Mulder, be honest, is that something you want? To be married, tied down." "Yes. I've always wanted it. Just never found the right woman." I didn't know what to say so I just stared at him. "I have now though," he whispered, never breaking eye contact. I could see his bottom lip quiver a little and he bit it with his top te eth to keep it still. "Oh Mulder, this is really new for us. Are you sure you know what you're saying?" "Positive. And it isn't new for me, Scully." He reached out and pulled me into an embrace, resting his chin on my head. "I've been in love with you for a long time." "Mulder, I want to talk about this, I really do, but this isn't a good time." He gave me a sharp squeeze and released me, stepping back. "You're right. Sorry." "Don't be sorry." He wouldn't look at me now. I stepped back into him and reached up to cradle his face in my hands. "I'm not brushing you off, Mulder, or this topic." He didn't respond. "I promise we'll talk some more about it." He swallowed hard. "O.K., I know I shouldn't have brought it up right now. I have to get used to ... keeping work separate." I smiled. "It will take practice for both of us, but we have to do it." "I know. O.K., let's get to work then." "Are you O.K.?" "Yeah, I'm fine." "That's my line." He smiled then. "I'm O.K., I promise." I smiled back and dropped my hands. "O.K., so what now?" "Well, I say we get the camera guy in here from the excavation team and then we have forensics come in here and pack this up." I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the woman who was the head of the forensics team. She answered on the third ring. "Agent Vega, this is Dana Scully." "That's plenty." "Sorry to bug you, but I need your photographer out here again." "No, we found something rather chilling in the guy's bedroom." "Yes." "They did." She chuckled. "Well, let's just say they looked under the bed but didn't look under the mattress." "Yeah, we have a human skin here, anterior side, woman, dried and cured like leather, really gross." "Yeah, and it's carved up with some sort of patterns with push pins in it. My partner thinks he has figured out what it means but I want the pictures before anyone else knows about this." She heard her talking away from the phone. "Good, tell him to keep quiet for now. We'll tell everyone as soon as the pictures are in the bag." "Thanks." "Yeah?" <"I've heard the rumors about you and your partner.> "Rumors?" I felt perspiration break out on my forehead. Had someone seen us at the restaurant the other night? I laughed now, feeling relief wash through me that I had misinterpreted her comment. A guilty conscious would do that for you. "Thanks for the thumbs up Agent Vega. If it wasn't such a gruesome find, it would have been funnier." "Say, can you check with your team and see if any of the bodies are ... well, missing the skin off the front of their bodies?" "Are you at the morgue?" "Well, we'll stay here and wait for Alonzo, then we'll head over there to have a look at the bodies so far." "Yeah?" I smirked. Mulder was watching me with an odd look on his face. I looked over at him. "I will be sure to tell my sexy hunk of a partner you said so." "Yup!" "Don't be, he's smiling like the idiot egomaniac that he is." The smile left my face instantly and I took a deep breath. I forgot what this feeling was like. Having other women interested in him was going to bother me more now. I couldn't blame them. Just look at him for Christ's sake, but still. My silence mus t have been telling. She asked quietly, "Um, look Mercedes, I'm sorry, you just caught me off guard." "It's O.K., I guess I just gave myself away, huh?" "I'm sorry, Mercedes, this is stupid. I wasn't even threatened. Um, this is a really, really new thing." "I haven't figured out how to handle comments ... like that yet. I have to ask that you please keep it to yourself." I smiled to myself. "Yeah, I think so too." "Yeah, at least two or more. It takes about 45 minutes to drive out here from town." "O.K., see you later." "You're going to tease the shit out of me over this, aren't you?" She laughed. And she hung up. I put the phone in my pocket of my trench coat and looked up to find Mulder with an inquisitive look on his face. "I take it she guessed about us?" "Yes." "Shit." "It's O.K. I think she will keep her mouth shut." "Not likely." "No, I think she will. She's had to climb the ladder too. I think she knows how damaging it can be to a woman to be caught involved with a colleague. People automatically assume that they slept their way into their position. I think she respects that it would hurt me if it got out. "Great. Another way I can hurt you." "Oh Mulder, that's not what I mean." "It's true though. I'd probably get a high five for melting the Ice Queen. You'd get ridicule and condescension." "Yeah, well, welcome to the real world, Mulder. The double standard didn't just disappear when women got the vote." "I know, it just bugs me, that's all. I know we have to keep it a secret at work. But it bugs me that we have to hide it at all." "I know, but it won't be so bad. If people find out, we'll deal with the consequences, that's all. Let's not worry about it until it happens, O.K.?" "Yeah, I suppose we have enough to worry about right now." He pulled out his cell phone and called the Sheriff. "Hi, Sheriff, Agent Mulder here." "I need you to check the identity papers on the victims and make a list of their birthdays." "I'm not sure yet. I think I may have figured out a basis for his pattern, but I need the birthdays and then I will need to match them up with some other evidence and see what sifts out." "We'll be back in town in about three hours or so. Agent Scully has to go to the morgue, and I will come see you." "Thanks, Sheriff, you've been a tremendous help. We really appreciate it." "Well, thanks again." "See you, Sheriff." He hung up. "He really is a good guy, isn't he?" I asked. "Yeah, I think so. He really wants to help. I think he's actually glad when I ask him to do something. He feels a bit inadequate here I think. But unlike a lot of macho city cops, he doesn't get resentful, he wants to help instead." "That's a switch." "Yeah, a nice one though, huh?" I nodded. "Now if we could just get rid of Simpson and the Rat pack, we'd be all set!" "Not likely. Not this time. He will be quick to remind us that this is HIS investigation." "Yeah, and he's contributed so much thus far." I chuckled. "Oh well, we're stuck with them for now, so we may as well make the best of it." "Yeah." He was silent a moment. "You know what?" "What?" "I want to spend the night out here tomorrow night." "You're kidding, right?" "No. I have a gut feeling that he is going to show on Halloween. I don't know why." "And you want to be here to nab him?" "Yes. I don't think Simpson and crew could be discreet enough or quiet enough to pull off a stake out in this house. But we could." "Should we tell them we are going to do it." "We?" "You honestly don't think I'm going to let you stay out here by yourself, do you?" "The deputy will be outside if I need help." "No way, Mulder!" "This guy is a sick bastard, Scully. And you are a juicy target." "Don't start this Mulder. He went after just as many boys as girls, and none of them was over the age of 25. That's one. And second, you better not start trying to play Tarzan with me, leave the little woman at home, cause that shit isn't going to fly! " I was nearly shouting now. I couldn't believe he would even suggest that I stay behind. He held up his hands in surrender. "O.K., O.K., I didn't mean to imply anything. Jesus, Scully, don't you know by now that I believe you can handle yourself? I've seen you take men twice your size to their knees. And I know you're a crack shot! That' s not what I meant at all. You're insulted that I want you safe? Well, I'm insulted that you think my motives have anything to do with disrespecting your abilities!" Now we were both upset. I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. "Boy, this is going to be hard, isn't it?" "I think so." "Look, Mulder, I'm sorry I overreacted. But you can't start that. We are still partners. Just because we are partners in every sense of the word now doesn't mean that things in the field are going to change. I don't want them to change." "Neither do I. I'm sorry Scully." He was silent for a moment. "Now that I have you, I'm already terrified of losing you. If something happens to you, my life is over. Do you realize that?" I hugged him to me. "Did it ever occur to you that I feel the same way about you?" "No." "Well I do, silly. I'd be devastated if I lost you, even before Friday night, I would have been devastated. I have been devastated when I thought you were going to die. But that's part of the job we do. The job we BOTH do. And just because we're gett ing nookie from each other now doesn't change that." "Nookie?" I chuckled. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you?" "Yes." "We just have to watch each other's backs the best we can, just like always and do everything we can to insure that both of us stay as safe as possible when we're on the job. That's the best we can do. But we can't look out for each other is we split up ." He sighed. "You're right, of course. You're always right." I stepped away. "Are we O.K.?" He smiled and dropped a kiss on my forehead. "Yeah, we're O.K." Just then the front door slammed and banging could be heard at the foot of the stairs as equipment was jostled through the doorway. "That must be Alonzo." "Let's give him a hand." THE COUNTY MORGUE RURAL WEST VIRGINIA OCTOBER 30, 2000 - 2:00 PM Mercedes Vega was a tall willowy brunette with almond eyes and the olive skin of her Hispanic heritage. She had full lips and high cheekbones and stood 5' 9" in her stocking feet. In short, she was gorgeous. I realized instantly from the few comments t hat she made that she had taken a lot of shit to get where she was. She was tough as nails, but retained her sense of humor. In this business, it was a must. Her specialty was the forensic science. She was a doctor, but not a medical doctor. Her doctorate was in archeology, then she had gone on to get another degree in forensics and joined the FBI as a forensic excavation expert. She didn't wear a speck of make up and wore her dark hair back in a severe pony tail that fell to her shoulders. But there was no hiding her beauty. I had a moment's cringe of jealousy when I first laid eyes on her again after her comment about Mulder. But within moments she had me at ease, laughing and joking. She talked about Alonzo and obviously adored him and I kicked myself for being so insecure. Mulder was in love with me. I knew that. But I guess I would always get a twinge of nervousness aro und leggy brunettes, knowing that the women in his past were of that variety. "Whewwww!" I whistled as I looked at umpteenth body. They were beyond gruesome. Mercedes was right. I'd seen a lot of weird stuff in my day and I thought I'd seen it as gross as it gets. But these bodies were bar none, the most disgusting, gruesome si ghts I had ever seen. Mercedes said, "This shit will give you nightmares. This guy likes his scalpels. Interesting thing. Some of these cuts are sloppy, others are like surgical precision incisions. I'm not done cataloguing all the wounds on the bodies. It's going to take me days." "Damn. We have to find this guy. How the hell did he get away with this for so long?" "I don't know. Scary, isn't it?" "That's the problem in small towns sometimes. Nobody thinks this kind of thing is going to happen in their back yard and they just don't pick up on the signals." "What about the kid that called in to the show and started all this?'" "They traced the call." "And?" "It was a phone booth." "Shit." "Yeah. We were hoping to find the kid and secret him in to question him some more. He might know more about Lockhart's habits or hang outs if he ran with his father, but they didn't even get name." "Have you seen the news lately?" "No, and I don't want to." "It's hit the news, but surprisingly, the details are slim. They are still going on about that haunted house crap. Apparently the fact that it's Halloween, that angle was too good to pass up." "Good if the details are slim, I want to keep it that way. No doubt this guy has his nose to a TV screen and he doesn't need to know what our next move is going to be." "Where's your partner?" "He's at the Sheriff's office getting a list of birthdays." "Alonzo said that skin was pretty freaky. Two guys from my team are on their way out to bag it up." "Good." "Your partner has an idea what it means?" "I think so. It's hard to tell with him sometimes. He doesn't give away much when he's working on a hunch or an idea. Then all of a sudden he lays it out for you and you smack your head like 'Wow, I could have had a V-8!" She grinned. "He's really good at that sort of thing, isn't he." I looked at her. "Mercedes, you have no idea. The man is brilliant, and I'm not just saying that because he's my partner. If anyone can figure this guy out, it's Mulder. If he can't do it, nobody can." "I've heard about the Monty Propps case." "Yeah, his claim to fame and his albatross, all in one. Everyone has heard about it and they won't let him forget it. Won't let him forget that 'he could have been somebody'. As if he cares." "He was on the fast track. That's why most of them can't figure out why he left Behavioral Science." "It's a long story." "I'll bet." "Unfortunately, just because we are blessed with being good at something, doesn't mean we like doing it." "Ain't that the truth. So you're saying that he didn't like profiling." "I think he did in the beginning, but then it started to get to him. Getting inside the heads of the sickest people in the world can do weird things to your psyche and I think it was staring to take its toll on him mentally. Then he found the X-Files an d that was the beginning of his defection from Behavioral Science." "I can see how that would get to you. You have to be a special kind of person to do that work. Mental health is more important than any job. Suicide statistics are high in that profession. So now he just puts that genius to work somewhere else. Good for him." I smiled at her. "Yeah, he does. He makes leaps of intuitive thinking that will give the average person a gigantic migraine trying to keep up." "I take it you're not average." I laughed. "Yeah, I am. He ties my gray cells in a knot on a regular basis!" "You love it." "Yeah, I do. Makes me push the envelope, ya know?" "Yeah. You're a lucky woman, Dana." "I know it too." "So am I." "Alonzo seems like a sweet guy. Also in the hunk department." "Yeah, different from your man, but a hunk all the same." "He must work out." "Yeah, he does. Those pecs kill me. One look at his bare chest and I'm a puddle of goo." I laughed. "I prefer the tall and lanky type." "I noticed!" We laughed and continued our tour of the morgue drawers. PART 5 - R IN A CAR SOMEWHERE IN RURAL WEST VIRGINIA TUESDAY EVENING OCTOBER 31, 2000 - 08:00 PM The sun was setting as drove back out to the farm. We were both dressed in black jeans, and black turtlenecks that we had gone out and bought at a local Gap the next town over.. I had bought black sneakers and Mulder was wearing black combat boots that he had brought with him. We were both wearing our regulation Sigs in holsters at our waists, plus small .22 pistols in shoulder holsters under our trench coats. Mulder also had a two-shot Derringer strapped to his boot. In sort, we were armed to teeth and ready to hide. We debated about whether to hide out in the barn or the house and ultimately decided on the house. We were both lost in our own thoughts as he drove off the black top onto the dirt road that would take us the rest of the way. He broke the silence. "Scully, are you scared?" "Not yet. I must say though, Mulder. You are the only person in the world who get me at the age of 37 to go to a haunted house on Halloween." "I thought you didn't believe that it was haunted." "I don't." "It doesn't bother you that it's Halloween?" "No, it's not my favorite holiday, but I've always enjoyed it. We kids used to raise hell every year on the base at Halloween." "Oh, ho! Were you a toilet paper Queen?" "You bet. Every tree on our block!" "No mailbox smashing, I hope." "No, not unless we wanted Ahab to beat us to pulp! I figured I had one asshole and that was plenty. I didn't need to gain another one by engaging in destruction of private property. Actually, mailboxes would be a federal offense, although I didn't thin k of that way back then." "Nothing like a little healthy fear of the folks to keep a kid in line, huh?" "You know it." I saw the look on his face and was suddenly ashamed that I hadn't realized where this conversation was going. "Oh, Mulder, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so insensitive." "You weren't. Don't worry about it. It's not your fault my father beat me." "You never really told me that much about it. I don't know how bad it was. I mean, I know any beating is bad, but ... how bad was it?" "Bad." "You want to tell me." He sighed deeply. "Not really, but I guess I should." "You don't have to." "Before Samantha, it was just the belt. I mean, lots of parents whack their kids with a belt, right?" "I guess so, my folks never did." "They never hit you?" "Not really. My mother whacked us on the bottoms with a wooden spoon sometimes when we were really small to teach us a lesson. But she never raised welts or anything. Just hit us hard enough to make it sting. It was more surprising and humiliating tha n anything else." "Wooden spoon, huh? Interesting choice of weapons." "Only an FBI agent would call a wooden spoon a weapon!" He smiled. "Yeah, well, after Samantha disappeared, some pretty weird shit turned into weapons in the Mulder household." "Tell me. Maybe it will help you to talk about it." "God, it's really gorgeous out here, you know it? Look at all the colors on the trees. I know it's almost dark now, but I really should have been paying more attention during the day. I'll bet the foliage is spectacular." "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Mulder. Just say so." "I talked to a shrink once when I was leaving Behavioral Science. I needed to be 'debriefed'. Interesting euphemism. Anyway, I think he was the only person I ever talked to about any of it and I didn't really tell him any details, just that I'd been hi t a lot." "Do you know why he did it?" "He hated his life. He hated his career and the things that he'd done and the choices he had made and he took it all out on me because I was an easy target. I such a wimp that it was easy to pick on me too. I had not self-esteem. I already blamed myse lf for not being able to save Samantha and I fed right into his bullshit. Originally, I thought he hated me. I thought he blamed me for Samantha. I did, so why shouldn't he? That was my thinking at the time. I thought I deserved it." "You know differently now, don't you?" "Yes. Intellectually. When I studied at Oxford I learned all about the 'survivor syndrome', that people go through when they lose a loved one to violent crime. I equated it to our situation and realized that my father hated himself more than he ever ha ted me or my mother. But to admit he had screwed up would have been too much to bear and keep on living, so he just kept taking out his self-hatred on us. Classic transference." "Intellectually? You said you know different intellectually. Does that mean that you still don't really believe that you were blameless." "Emotionally, I have never been able to reconcile that I was blameless. Emotionally, I've never been able to accept that there wasn't SOMETHING I should have or could have done." "There wasn't you know. You were just a kid." "Like I said, I know that now. Intellectually. But the beatings reinforced my own self loathing and grief over the situation and I don't think I'll ever be rid of all of it. But I got over it enough to keep living and still try to make something of mys elf." "What did he do to you to make you so down on yourself? It kills me that such a brilliant, lovable , compassionate man can think so little of himself." He glanced over at me and then back at the road. "Is that really the way you see me, Scully?" "Yes, it is." "God, I love you more every day, you know that?" I reached over and rested my hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze. "I'm going to work on improving your self-esteem. I think I'm going to make that MY quest." "Knock yourself out, Babe!" I laughed. "I might change my mind if you keep calling me Babe, though!" He chuckled. "I'm just teasing." "I know you are. So tell me more. I want to know everything about you. I want to know what makes you tick. I want to know why you do the things you do. Give me something to work with here!" He smiled, but then it faded and he began to speak quietly. "After Samantha, he wouldn't just hit me on the ass with a belt. He started with the open handed slaps to the side of face. They were hard enough to hurt but never hard enough to leave a bump. They were just shocking. But then he escalated into punching with a closed fist. He would hit me in the back as I walked away from him, or whack the backs of my legs with the belt hard enough to leave a welt. Then, well, then he would pick fights wit h me and end up hitting me with whatever was handy. Sometimes it was a book or something. One time he broke a water glass over the back of my head. It's amazing I have any brain left at all. The uncanny thing was that he always seemed to be clever en ough to hit me where the bruises or lumps couldn't be seen. I grew my hair longer in those days to cover the lumps on my head. I never wore shorts because my legs were such a mess." "Holy shit, Mulder. I had no idea it was that bad." "Yeah, regular too. It seems I was his only means of stress relief. He would be maddeningly calm afterwards. It was so frightening. He would go from a screaming, raving lunatic to a calm, even toned, perfectly reasonable human being. It was like livi ng with Dr. Jekyle and Mr. Hyde. You just never knew what would set him off." "What ended it?" "I got pissed. Despite my lack of self-esteem, I was athletic and good at sports. I was tall, skinny and goofy. But I could run and fairly well disproved the notion that 'white men can't jump.'" I laughed at that. "I played basketball and soccer and baseball. Later on, I ran on the track team one year and loved it. So began my love affair with running. Then I decided that if I was going to stop wearing sweat and start wearing shorts on these teams, I was going to have to do something about the mar ks on my legs. Weird how my desire to excel at sports was the catalyst for me to start fighting back. Not that it was wrong. Not that I was hurting. Not that I was just that pissed. But because I wanted to wear shorts! Stupid, huh?" "No. You were just looking for an excuse that had nothing to do with the actual reasons for the beatings. Something unrelated so you could detach. You wanted it to stop, but you didn't want to deal with it head on. You wanted a totally unrelated excus e to stop it. Then you could pretend that it wasn't a big deal, just a means to an end." "When did you become the psychology major?" "That's just basic child reasoning. Avoidance and denial is common in abused children. They hate the beatings but they secretly yearn for the approval of their parents. They don't have the life experience yet to know that parents can be wrong. They do n't understand that nine times out of ten the parents beatings have nothing to do with how the parent feels about them per se. Rather, it's about the parent's inability to cope with life on life's terms." "You sure you didn't study psychology?" "I'm sure. Continue on." "Well, I decided to start working out. I was in good shape and I could run for miles, but I was still a tall, skinny geek. So I started lifting weights and drinking protein drinks and I jacked up." "Jacked up?" "Got the nautilus puff." "Nautilus puff?" He laughed again. "I've finally hit upon a lingo in which you cannot compete with me." "The language of the male testosterone hormone?" "Yeah, that one." "Go on." "In short, I grew some biceps, some pecs and some quadriceps." "I noticed." "Thank you for noticing by the way." "I've always noticed." He smiled at me again. "Shit, woman, I wish I'd known this years ago." "It wouldn't have been as good then." "Why not?" "Because we both had to find ourselves and our place in the world. We both had to learn to trust each other first and be good friends to one another. We had to miss each other, save each other and know what it was like to be devastated when the other on e was gone. We needed all those experiences to realize and accept what we meant to each other. We have the best foundation a couple can have for a relationship. Implicit trust, friendship born of hardship. All that allows us to have unconditional lov e. We've tested each other's trust and friendship and loyalty and we passed each other's tests. We needed to do that. It happened when it was time for it to happen. I'm glad we didn't do this sooner. I would have been too insecure. I'm insecure anywa y." "You're lying. You definitely took studied psychology!" "Stop being glib!" "O.K. What the hell do have to be insecure about? You're so smart it makes my head spin. You're gorgeous and sexy beyond belief and have no idea how beautiful you are. Do you know what a devastating package that is?" "Package?" "You know what I mean. Most beautiful women ... correction, most beautiful women know they are beautiful and they use it to manipulate the people around them. I hate that. Then there are the bubble headed bleach blondes with nothing but air in their he ads. That's not an exclusive quality to blondes, I'm just trying to make a point. You are beautiful AND incredibly smart, AND incredibly loving, loyal, compassionate and trustworthy. Where's the insecurity coming from?" "I was actually a little jealous when Mercedes called you a sexy hunk and then asked me if you were taken." "She asked if I was taken? You didn't tell me that part." "She was just trying to joke with me. She's head over heels for Alonzo, but I didn't know that at the moment. Just knowing some other woman might go after you ... I don't know. I guess this is just so new. Besides, I don't share your opinion about my looks, Mulder. I was always this pale little kid with freckles. Now when I Iook in a mirror, I see a tiny woman with pale skin and freckles. I could never compete with the voluptuous blondes and leggy brunettes in high school or college or grad school. They had a new boyfriend every week and the only men I attracted were men old enough to be my father. You take what you can get, ya know? I know I've got a brain in my head but you can run circles around me any day." "That's not true and you know it. Take it from me, Scully, you're beautiful. And if guys weren't asking you out it's because they were immature, insecure idiots who were threatened by your brain. And let me clear this up for you. You never have any re ason to be jealous of any woman. I'm yours, 100% if you'll have me. I can't remember the last time I looked at another woman with anything romantic in mind. No one is going to take me away from you. The only thing that is going to get rid of me is you telling me to go take a hike. Mercedes Benz, or whatever her name is could sneak into my bedroom at night, naked and I would throw her out." "You know what, Mulder? I think we are going to be good for each other's self-esteem, what do you think?" "Yeah. I know mine's improved already." I was smiling a lot more in the last few days and it felt good. "So finish your story." "Do I have to?" "No, but you've gotten this far." "I guess so. Well, the Reader's Digest Condensed version is that I grew up, got muscles, and got sick and tired of being sick and tired. One day he took a swing. I blocked it, sucker punched him in the gut and pinned him against the wall. It was the l ast thing he expected from me. I was 18 years old. He'd been beating me for six years. I told him the next time he hit me was going to be his last, because if I didn't kill him first, I'd have his ass in jail so fast it would make his head spin." "Did that work?" "Evidently. He never touched me again. My parents split up while I was away in my freshman year at Oxford. I came home for break and he was gone. We barely spoke for the next ten years. I don't know if the beating stopped because he just wasn't there , or because of what I did, but in that brief period of six months between then and when I left for college, he didn't touch me. He didn't speak to me either, but he didn't touch me. And I was fine with that." "Were you?" "I thought so at the time. I was just so relieved not to be frightened anymore. He really was a bigger wimp than I ever thought of being. He was just a bully who was mad at the world, for whatever reason. I'm sure he thought that what he did at the St ate Department was noble. I think he was sorry in the end and was trying to tell me the truth when he was killed. Penance, clean house before you die, whatever. But he never got it out." "I know. I'm sorry. It must be tough to have all that unresolved between you when he died." "Yeah. I think that upset me more than his death. I was so ANGRY that he hadn't told me whatever he was going to tell me sooner. I was so ANGRY that my chance to have a real conversation with him was ripped away. ANGRY that I was deprived of hearing h im apologize for lying to me all those years. Pretty selfish, huh?" "No, perfectly reasonable. You had every right to want those things. But if you don't accept that you will never have them now, it will eat you up inside until there's nothing left. I don't want you to end up old and bitter like him." "I won't. I have you to kick my ass if I start doing that." He grinned at me. "No more about my shitty childhood. We're almost there. Check out the moon, Scully. It's so bright, it's almost like daylight out here." "Spooky." "Could you choose another word please?" he teased. I smiled. "Guess what I got?" "What?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of Hershey's Kisses, proudly displaying them on his palm. "Want a candy little, girl?" I laughed. "You're a sick man. Do you know that?" "The sickest." "No, no the sickest, but undoubtedly the weirdest." I snatched up a candy, unwrapping the silver foil and popping it into my mouth. "I can live with weird." "Good thing, I don't think you have a prayer of escaping it." "Hey, I thought you were going to try and boost my ego!" "Maybe I should rethink my decision." LOCKHART FARM PLANTATION HOUSE OCTOBER 31, 2000 - 9:00 PM We sat on the top step of the stairs in darkness, just waiting. We had both napped earlier so that we would be able to stay up through the night. We could always cat nap, taking turns if we needed to. But we were both awake then and eager to take the c hance to talk. It seemed so ironic that we'd been talking each other's ears off for seven years and there were still plenty of things that we didn't know about each other. We had made a game plan and then sat down to wait, talking softy. In the eerie silence of the house, it seemed to weird to talk in normal tones so we whispered. The only other sound had been the incessant snick of the pendulum swaying in the grandfather clock in the living room off to the side of the bottom of the stairs. When it let out it's gong at midnight, I had nearly jumped out of my skin, my heart going from zero to racing in two seconds. "Not haunted, huh, Scully?" "Just because I'm jumpy, doesn't mean it's haunted." Mulder didn't comment but turned sideways, leaning his back against the wall and pulled me in between his legs, my back to his chest. We sat that way for hours telling stories about our childhood. A sudden racket kicked up across the field toward the barn making us both jump. It sounded like a squadron of squealing baby pigs. We both leaped to our feet and ran into the bedroom, looking out the window. The moon was incredibly bright, casting the entire area in an eerie glow as though it were twilight. I shivered and looked toward the barn, pointing. Mulder turned his head to follow my gaze. We watched as the largest flock of bats I think I've ever se en, poured out of the loft window in the barn. The flew high and careened off into the sky, their black bodies dotting out the glow of the moon. Mulder whistled softly through his teeth. He couldn't resist a smart ass remark. "So Scully, I'm thiinnkki iinnn', shades of 'The Birds?'" I chuckled at his blatant Hitchcock reference to the movie, "The Birds". These were bats, of course, but it did look like a staged performance from a movie. "Maybe it's the barn that's haunted." "By birds?" "No, bats!" He suddenly went still and I felt him stiffen against my back. There were no lights on in the house, so I knew it was unlikely that anyone could see us in the window all dressed in black. I pulled out a black knitted cap and slipped it on. I knew my hair could be as loud as a beacon against an otherwise colorless background. Mulder didn't know I had the hat and nodded his approval. "What is it?" I whispered. "Something made those bats haul ass out of that barn." "Dinner time?" I cracked. "I don't think so. They were in too much of a hurry. Plus, I don't remember that window in the loft being open, do you?" Now it was my turn to stiffen as my mind frantically raced, trying to remember if I'd even looked at that window on my one trip up the ladder to that loft. "I honestly don't remember, Mulder. I'm sorry. I was only up there once and I can't recall even noticing the window." He sighed. "We better check it out, Scully." "O.K., let's go." We crept out of the house by the back door and crossed the expanse of lawn between the house and the barn, trying to hide in the shadows cast by the barn blocking the light of the moon. We drew our weapons as we approached. It was one night where I wish ed the moon was not so brilliantly lit up. It made sneaking a bit more difficult. We reached the side of the barn and pressed our backs to the wall, listening to the silence. A minute or so passed and Mulder tapped my shoulder and pointed to the rear o f the barn. I nodded and followed. We crouched and made our way to the rear of the barn where some rotted board in the wall had formed cracks behind the crude alter that we had discovered at the beginning of the case. We each picked a crack and peered into the darkness just as a match was struck, burning my cornea and causing me to jerk my head away from the wall. I looked at Mulder. He was blinking rapidly, apparently having had the same thing happen to him. My heart rate sped up as I felt the rush of adrenaline that precedes an intense situation. We both pressed our eyes back to wall and watched as a man in overalls, early 40's, with thinning hair lit four different candles on the alter. He began mumbling to himself and raising his palms toward the ceiling in some sort of invocation. I tapped Mulder and swirled my arm in a circle, indicating that we should circle around to the front of the building. Over the years we had developed an intricate system of hand and arm signals to avoid speech. Some were taught at the academy, but some we had developed on our own. It allowed us, along with our ability to read each other's faces, to have a fairly involved conversation without uttering a word. It was discon certing to a lot of people who had accidentally witnessed us doing it, but we didn't really care. He indicated that I should go one way and he should go the other. I turned and then heard a distinctive moan from inside the barn. It was weak and faint but definitely not from the man. We were assuming that the man was Lockhart. The police had come u p with one photo of the man from a county fair but it was ten years old. No other pictures seemed to exist of him and he had no record. So there was no mug shot either. We made eye contact, conveying the urgency to take action. The dirt bag had a vict im with him. We split up to circle the barn and met up at the front door, the only entrance to the barn. The guy was obviously cocky in his ability to come and go undetected as he had left the door ajar, hanging open about a foot. I slipped in sideways, careful not the jostle the door and Mulder followed. We stood still waiting for our eyes to adjust to the gloom. You didn't realize how much light the moon had cast until it was taken away. The door to the 'tack room' which held all his paraphernalia was open and a tiny glow from the meager candle flames slipped into this front area of the barn. We crouched again after having our eyes adjust, listening to him mumble and cant. Either it was nonsense or a foreign language I'd never heard because I couldn't understand a word he was saying. As we crept down the line of stalls on the side, closing in on the back of the barn and the door to the altar room, we heard the moan again. If we hadn't been trying to be so silent, we would have missed it, it was so faint. Mulder spun around on silent feet and peered over the top of a stall door. I wasn't tall enough to see but he pointed frantically. Obviously there was someone in there. I saw him put his finger to his lips, looking over the door. He didn't dare utter a 'Shhh' in the silence. So slowly, it made every nerve in my body ready to crack, he lifted the metal latch on the door to the stall. He surprised me when he pulled a pick lock gun out of his pocket and handed it to me. I was puzzled by this until I s aw him pull out a tube of graphite powder. I stuck the pick gun in my pocket. It was generally used to de-ice frozen locks or unstick frozen locks. I never would have thought to bring this stuff. He squirted nearly the entire contents of the tube on each of the hinges to the door. I assumed the idea was that the smoother the met al friction, the less noise. That wasn't the intended use for the powder but it was worth a try. He eased the door open. It's slight creak sounded like a shot in the silence of the barn and he froze. I trained my weapon on the door to the tack room bu t it seemed we were still undetected. He slipped into the stall while I glanced nervously between him and the door. He touched the huddled form I could barely make out on the floor and arms began to thrash wildly and hit at Mulder. He grunted softly but was otherwise quiet. He backed off a nd looked at me, shaking his head in the negative and indicating we should trade places. For some reason the girl didn't want Mulder to touch her. If Lockhart had tortured her, I could understand her fear of being touched by any man. Mulder slipped out , turning sideways. He had only opened the door enough to admit the width of this body. He drew his weapon and took up my place as I holstered my weapon and slipped inside. I took a chance and pulled my small pen light out of the inside pocket of my trench coat and pressed the end, lighting it up and shining it under my chin so that she could see that I was woman. I could not made out her face. I reached tentatively to tou ch her shoulder. She shuddered but lay still, then slowly raised her arms. Her hands were bound at the wrists with a strip of nylon. I put my pen light in my mouth and pulled out my knife. As I bent down to cut the nylon, she cringed and I looked up, shining the pen light at her face, and swallowed a gasp. It wasn't a girl! It was a young boy, maybe 10 years old, with longish brown hair down to his shoulders and wide dark eyes. Panic was evident in every line of his face. I quickly cut the nylon s trip. He rolled onto his back and lifted his feet. They were similarly bound and he was wearing no shoes. I cut those restraints, pocketing my knife and my pen light. Then I motioned to him and held my arms out to him. He launched himself into my arms, wrapping his arms around my neck. His entire body was quivering with fear. His legs had scraped in the straw when he lurched into my arm. That sound had been heard. Mulder crouched in to a squat as the man appeared in the doorway. He hollered in the general direction of the stall, never looking at Mulder. "Quit your thrashing around out there you little tramp. I know you're impatient and I'm almost ready for you. The daemons have been called. I have to give them honor and then we'll get started." He turned back into the room. Mulder nodded at me in the gloom and I carefully rose, pulling on one of the boys legs. He took the hint and raised his legs to wrap them around my waist. He hissed in pain. I didn't know what his injuries were, but I cou ldn't check that out right now. I had to get him out of here. Surprisingly, he didn't weigh as much as I thought he would. He was bone thin and shaking like a leaf. He was still a bit heavy though. I backed out of the stall with the child plastered t o my chest, his head on my shoulder, and jerked my head toward the door. Mulder gave me a thumbs up and I moved toward the door. I was anxious to get him out but knew that if I moved too quickly I was in danger of making too much noise. Once I was outside the door, I made a break for it. He was too heavy for me to run with but I trotted as fast as I could to the house and slipped into the back door of the house into the kitchen. I deposited him in a kitchen chair. "Honey?" I whispered. He looked at me. "Jason," he whispered back. "Jason, I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI. That was my partner Fox Mulder out there. He won't hurt you, and neither will I." He nodded. He appeared eerily calm now and I knew he was going into shock. I grabbed his hand and led him into the l iving room. "Lay down on the couch." He did. I grabbed the dusty afghan off the back of the couch and covered him with it. "I'm going to call for more help, O.K.? I'm sorry but I have to leave you alone for a minute." He nodded. "S'okay," he whispered. "As long as you grab that maniac." I smiled. "We will, but I need to help my partner, O.K.?" "Go get him, lady." I patted his shoulder and pulled out my cell phone, dialing 911. <911 operator.> "Hello, this is Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI, Badge Number FGX573982. I need an ambulance immediately to come to the Lockhart Farm at 22 Calvert Road. I have an injured boy, suffering from exposure and I don't know what else. Also, please cal l Sheriff Cole and have him contact the other agents in town. He'll know what I mean and get him and all his deputies out here. Got all that?" "I don't know, approximately ten years old." "I'm thirteen," he croaked out. "Sorry, he's thirteen, but about 4' 11", approximately 75 pounds, small for his age." "Oh, and tell the ambulance and cops, no lights and sirens. We are trying to apprehend a suspect." I clicked off my cell, patted his shoulder and ran out of the house heading back for the barn. My fear had slackened in the house, but I felt my heart rate go up again as I approached the barn. Then I heard the muffled grunt that sounded from inside the room. I drew my Sig and trotted to the door, pressing my back to the wall and carefully peered inside. I didn't see anyone right away. But then two bodies hit the floor, several feet from the door. I swung the doors wide to let in more moonlight. Mulder's face was red with blood, pouring from a wound on his forehead. He kneed the guy in the stomach and leaped to his feet, swiping his arm over his eyes to get the blood out of them. I nearly screamed. "Freeze, asshole, FBI." I pointed my weapon at his head as he turned in surprise to see me. Mulder stumbled toward the back of the barn and then I saw what he was doing. He bent to retrieve his weapon which had been knocked from his hand. The man got slowly to his feet. "I said FREEZE." He chuckled a low grunting chuckle in the back of his throat. Mulder warned me, "He's got a knife, Scully." He sneered at me, grabbing his crotch. "I've got lots more than a knife, cutie. Oh, you're a scrumptious one, older than I usually like, but I'm not that fussy." I hissed, "Move and you'll be sorry." He smiled. Mulder now had his weapon on the guy. "There's nowhere to go Lockhart. Give up or you're going down, right here, right now." He took a step toward me and I re-aimed my weapon. "Don't move!" "I like 'em feisty. I love it when they scream and fight and beg for mercy. Seems you're just the type." I heard Mulder issue another warning, his voice low and casual, considering the circumstances. "Lockhart, you have no idea who you are dealing with. My partner will have you unconscious on this floor and missing your balls before you can lunge at her." Lockhart spun his head around and looked over his shoulder at Mulder. "Know her well, do you?" "Drop the knife, Lockhart, it's over." "Not by a long shot." He turned and whipped the large six inch blade at my chest. Mulder screamed, "Sccuulllyyy!" I saw his arm wind back as he shouted, "Happy Halloween, Bitch!" I dropped into a squat and tipped back onto my ass and threw my torso to the floor. My hat slid off my head and my hair fell loose and into my eyes. The knife sailed over my body and stuc k nicely into the wall. He's good at that, I thought mildly. I brushed the hair out of my eyes and then I saw him advancing on me. No thought went into it as the fizzle of fear snaked through me at the site of the large man bearing down on me, smiling like a lunatic. My weapon came up in one hand and fired. Through the haze of my fear I heard the crack of another shot. My bullet slammed into his left shoulder and Mulder's slammed into his right shoulder from behind. The impact of both bullets spun him in tracks. He spun 360 degrees bellowing in pain and surprise as he dropped to his knees. He looked up at me totally bewildered. His eyes closed and opened again. I watched as they rolled back into his head and he slumped sideways onto the floor as he passed out. I holstered my weapon. I was attempting to stand when I heard the clicking of handcuffs as Mulder cuffed his hands behind his back despite the fact that he was bleeding copiously from both shoulders. large frame straddled my legs, grabbed me up around the waist and lifted me to my feet. He crushed me to his chest, breathing heavily. "Holy shit," he whispered. I looked up. "Mulder, you're hurt. Your face is covered in blood." "It's looks worse than it is. He nicked my forehead with that blade, just the tip, but you know how a head wound bleeds, even a small one." "Let's get you inside. I want to check on the kid." "We need to do something with him first." Just then, two cruisers came sliding into the driveway. We waited in the door as they sprinted across the lawn, their faces alight with excitement. It was Sheriff Cole and his four deputies. The Sheriff looked at Mulder with his bloody face and me with straw in my hair. "You guys are hurt." "Just Mulder. I'm O.K. Lockhart is inside. He's shot in both shoulders and cuffed." "Whoa. O.K." I looked at him wearily. "I'll explain everything later." "Hey, no problem. We'll get him outside. We have two ambulances on the way." "Two?" "I asked for another one just in case. When the dispatcher told me that you were trying to apprehend a perp, I figured someone might get hurt. It takes a while to get out here, so better safe than sorry." "You got here pretty quick." He flashed a smile. "We burned rubber, Mock 2 with our hair on fire!" Mulder and I both laughed. "I need to get him inside Sheriff and check out this knick on his head." "Yes, ma'am. You do that. We'll take care of Mr. Lockhart till the ambulance and your colleagues get here." "Thanks Sheriff." Mulder and I held onto each other and went to the house. We had the excuse of his injury and so it wouldn't look strange in this situation. I turned on the kitchen light and sat him in a chair in the living room and scooted in the living room, turning o n the light in there. The kid was fast asleep. Exhaustion and fear had caught up with him and he had succumbed to sleep. Good for him. I shut the light off and returned to the kitchen. I went back into the kitchen. "How is he?" Mulder asked. "He's sleeping." "How long ago did you call?" "I don't know. About a half hour I guess. Fortunately, I don't think he's hurt too bad, physically that is. He's just banged up and scared shitless. The mental scars are going to be the tough ones." I opened the small first aid kit I had brought and pulled out some antiseptic and a wet cloth. I cleaned him up as best I could and put some butterfly bandages to hold the cut closed and covered it with gauze, taping it down. He smiled a sad smile. "Nice to catch one in time for a change, huh?" "Well, he got to about 50 others before we caught on." "Yeah, but Scully, try not to think of it that way. We just saved that little boy in there by being here tonight." I smiled. "Yeah, we did. It does feel good." "That's why we do this, you know? I mean, that's why I started doing it originally. I knew I couldn't save the world, but I thought, 'if I can help just one person now and then, save one person now and then, it will be worth it.'" "I thought the same way." "I lost that somewhere along the way." "Idealism takes a dive once you grow up and get out in the real world for a while." "I don't know how much idealism I ever had, but I used to have more motivation and more righteousness about the fact that what I was doing was right." I sat down at the table with him to wait. "Righteousness will only get you so far, then it will get you killed." He chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose you're right." "By the way, thanks for taking him down." "As it turns out, you would have taken him down yourself." "It was a near thing. What happened before I got out there anyway?" "I tried to sneak into the room but he heard me as I got to the door and threw an Athame at me. "Athame?" "One of those ornamental knives with a blade on both sides. They are used in rituals." "He must have practiced knife throwing." "Yeah. I ducked but he only missed me by a hair's breath. Then he lunged for me and grabbed my wrist and beat the gun out of my hand against the wall and kicked it out of the room into the main part of the barn. The guy was quick for a big guy and inc redibly strong." He grabbed his knife from the wall and it was enough for me to twist out of his grip and leap into the main part of the barn where there was more room. There were candles burning in that room and straw on the floor. I didn't want the place to go up like a fucking roman candle if one of those candles tipped over. "I'm surprised you were able to think about that at all." "You're forgetting my fear of fire." "Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot." He smirked at me. "Fear and paranoia can be a good thing, Scully. I keep telling you that." I shook my head in exasperation at him. "Only you could joke about it." "Better than crying about it." Just then we heard the ambulance pull in and I rose to meet them at the front door. The came in with a stretcher and gathered up the little boy. He woke and was breathing quickly, his fear instantly returning. I smoothed his hair away from his face. " Jason, it's O.K., these are the paramedics. They are going to take you to the hospital and have you checked out, O.K.?" "I'm O.K." "I know, but better safe than sorry. We want to make sure and get you some salve for those nylon burns on your wrists an ankles, O.K.?" "I guess so." "Jason, can we call your parents?" He looked at me and began to cry. I leaned over the stretcher and hugged him to me. "Shhh, its O.K. Where can I find them?" "They live in Richmond," he sobbed. "Virginia?" Wow, he was a long way from home. Another one across state lines. "They are going to be so mad. I ran away." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, standing up and forcing a smile onto my face. "I'll talk to them O.K.? I'll make sure they understand and maybe you can work things out with them." "O.K." "I'll come by and see you in the hospital. What's your last name and phone number." I pulled my little pad out and wrote it down. "Kevin and Julia Kronen, 802-576-0052." "O.K., hang in there." They wheeled him out and I held one of the paramedics back. "I'm not sure that he wasn't sodomized either by the perp or with some sort of ... foreign object. Have the ER call in a rape counselor to talk to him and check it out." "Sure thing, Agent, thanks." She saluted and trotted after the others. Mulder appeared and hugged me to him again. I whispered, "God, the kids are the worst." "I know, I know," he cooed, patting my hair and comforting me. This is the position we were in when Simpson and crew burst through the door in a flurry. "Where are they? Oh!" he said as he spotted us. I lifted my head off Mulder's chest and he smirked at us. "Well, aren't we cozy?" Mulder's voice was a near deadly growl. "We just took down a mad man, with no help from you I might add. And now we watched them take an innocent 13 year old boy out of here that will probably never recover from being mentally tortured. It was a little upsetting. And if I want to comfort my partner, then that's damn well what I'm going to do. And if you have a problem with that, go fuck yourself, Simpson!" He paled. "Sorry." I pulled away from Mulder, patting his arm to calm him down. "Later, Mulder, its O.K." He deflated and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, then dropped his arms. "The Sheriff reemerged at this point. "Look folks, it's nearly 4:00 AM, what say we let Agents Mulder and Scully go back to the hotel and get cleaned up and we'll hit the paperwork pile tomorrow." I nodded. "That would be great. Simpson can take over from here. We'll be sure to file a full report tomorrow on what happened here." I looked at Simpson. "Besides, Agent Mulder had a head wound and he should be resting right now instead of arguing w ith anyone." Simpson looked at the ground, chagrined. We were both exhausted but I knew his wound wasn't that bad. But there was no harm in playing it up to make Simpson feel like a jerk. Plus, I didn't want him starting any rumors about Mulder and me. There were enough floating around already. But now they would be true and that somehow made it more risky. He finally spoke up again. "You guys get out of here. You did a good job. I wished you'd told us, we could have come out here with you." Mulder looked at him. "Six agents out here would have made more noise than a busted chainsaw, Simpson." "Guess you're right. Looks like you'll get credit after all." I looked at him. "Simpson, I don't give a shit who gets credit. I'll tell him it was your idea for us to come out here tonight if you want me to." I really just wanted this guy to leave us alone. He looked up at me. I could see he was seriously considering it. Then realized probably that he would owe me one and that didn't sit very well with him. His shoulders slumped again. "No, forget it. You snagged the guy, it's your collar. Now get out of here while we do cleanup. We'll talk to you tomorrow." I nodded and we headed out to the car. I wondered idly if any of the other three agents every spoke. I laughed to myself, just glad that it was over. The Sheriff followed us out. The ambulance with Simpson had left already with the deputies in tow. T hey would be guarding him until he was released from the hospital and they could take him for booking. It was going to be at least an overnight, so our report could wait. I had a thought suddenly. "I wonder who the skin belonged to." The Sheriff spoke through the car window as we slid in and closed the doors. I was driving for once. "The skin was tested and turned out to be the sister, Henrietta. I never run across a sicker bastard in my whole life. Right here in my jurisdiction, right under my nose and I knew nothing about it." "Don't be too hard on yourself Sheriff," Mulder said. "These guys get away with this because they are clever, not because they are stupid. There is no reason for you to suspect him." "Yeah, well, I knew him from the bars in town. I'd dragged him out a couple times for being drunk and disorderly and sent him home, but I never arrested him. He was a lonely man and I didn't figure it was worth it. I'll know better next time. If he'd had a record, we might have caught on quicker." I looked up at him. "Yeah, well, live and learn." "Guess the house wasn't haunted after all, huh?" he teased. "Yes it was," I said. Mulder's head snapped up at that comment. "Scully?" "It was haunted by a mad man, gentlemen, one that hopefully will never hurt anyone ever again. We'll see you tomorrow, Sheriff. Happy Halloween." "It is now, thanks to you two. Happy Halloween, Agents. Good job, Agents, again. Can't thank you enough. At least that animal is off the streets." "You're welcome. Tomorrow then." I rolled up the window and pulled out onto the lonely dirt road. A couple of minutes later the exhaustion hit me. All the adrenaline and anger were gone. My reserves were used up. I sighed loudly and Mulder looked ov er at me. "Want me to drive?" "No, Mr. Head Wound, I DO NOT want you to drive." He chuckled. "Just talk to me and keep me company." "O.K." PART 6 - NC-17 MOTEL 8 - ROOM 69 WEDNESDAY MORNING NOVEMBER 1, 2000 - 5:00 AM We were both too exhausted to even shower so we stripped and climbed into bed. Mulder spooned up behind me. "Good job tonight, Scully, with that kid." "Thanks." "He freaked when I touched him." "Yeah, well, don't take it personally. It was dark and I'm sure he couldn't tell that you weren't him. He was terrified." "I know, but he took to you O.K." "I'm female." "I couldn't believe you picked him up." "He was so scared, Mulder. His whole body was trembling. I knew he wouldn't be able to walk without making a racket. He could barely stand. He was so thin. I thought he was about 10 years old. He did get heavy by the time I reached the house though. " "I'll bet. You're so good with children, Scully." He paused. "I'm so sorry that ..." "Don't say it Mulder. It's O.K." "Not really." "Well, I've accepted it. I can't change it. Let's just get some sleep." "Happy Halloween, Scully." "To you too. I love you, Mulder." "I love you too, Scully." I closed my eyes and fell asleep within minutes. MOTEL 8 - ROOM 69 WEDNESDAY MORNING NOVEMBER 1, 2000 - 10:00 AM Mulder nudged me awake. "It's 10:00 o'clock, Scully." I groaned. "Oh wow, a whole five hours sleep." "I know but the sooner we do the reports the sooner we get out of here." "Hmm. O.K." I rolled out of bed and we showered together, behaving ourselves this time. We got dressed and grabbed some bagels and coffee on the way to the Sheriff's office. POLICE DEPARTMENT WEDNESDAY MORNING 11:30 AM NOVEMBER 1, 2000 We spent the better part of the day filling out all the reports for the police, the FBI, the hospital. I told them I would send them a copy of the official FBI report for their files when I had it completed. At 4:00 PM, we left and went back to the mote l, deciding to take one more night here. We were both exhausted. MOTEL 8 - ROOM 69 WEDNESDAY MORNING NOVEMBER 1, 2000 - 10:00 AM After another five hours of sleep, I awoke to feel a large finger lazily caressing the hollow between my ass cheeks. I sighed and moaned as I felt my nipples harden and arousal spike between my legs, moistening my insides. His hand slid up and cupped my breast, pinching my nipple and he slid his erection between my legs, rubbing back and forth, spreading my wetness between my thighs. "Oh, yeah," I murmured. It was still weird waking up to find someone else in the bed, but I could definitely get used to this morning sex thing. I was so relaxed when I first woke and it took nothing to get me excited. Of course, with Mulder, he never had to do much anyway and I was purring at his feet. I hoped it would always be that way. It was too soon to tell. I pushed my butt back into his hips, encouraging him to continue. His hand slid down between my legs and lifted my top leg, causing my low back to arch and my butt to tip into his hips. Without any guidance, he slipped into me from behind groaning into my ear. "Awww, yeah, that's good." He lazily thrust into me from behind and I easily met his thrusts. His head dipped down to suck on the side of my neck and I was shivering with excitement within a couple of minutes. When we finally needed to speed up, he slipped out of me, causing me t o whimper in protest. He chuckled. "Up on your knees, Scully," he said gently. I had to reengage my brain to get my muscles to work but finally managed to clumsily prop myself up on all fours. But then remembering how good it had felt in the shower to be bent really far over and the deep penetration that it had allowed, I let my sh oulders drop to the mattress. His warm hands cupped my ass and slid to my hips. He murmured, "You're ass is heart-shaped, it's so beautiful, Scully." "Glad you think so. Now get inside me, now!" He chuckled again. "In a hurry are we?" "Don't you dare leave me hanging you bully, you started this!" He brought himself to my entrance and slid inside quickly to the hilt. We both groaned. He began thrusting and was quickly slamming into me hard with long, deep strokes. One hand went between my legs and I began to furious swipe at my clit. We were bo th grunting with the effort to find the peak. I reached back once and slid my wet fingers over his balls and went back to my clit but that was enough for him. He shouted as he emptied inside me, "Oh, Oh, YEAH, Scuulllyyy! YEAH!" Feeling the warm spray inside me was enough. I pinched my clit and went sailing over the edge, feeling the temperature inside increase dramatically and an incredible surge of wetness and sensation as my orgasm rocked through me. He collapsed on top of m y back, staying imbedded inside. He supported his weight on his elbows and kissed the back of my neck. Our breath finally came back. "You know what, Mulder?" "What, Scully?" I said facetiously, "It's a fucking shame we don't have any chemistry, you know it?" He broke out laughing, his stomach bouncing against my rear end. I smiled, loving to hear him laugh. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Scully." "Door swings both ways." Quietly he said, "Scully, I'm really Happy!" He sounded amazed as though it was a foreign feeling to him and I supposed it was. "I'm happy too, Mulder. We make an awesome team, on and off the field, don't you think." "Oh, yeah, I DEFINITELY think!" "Time to go home now." "Let's hit the shower again and then pack it in, G-Woman. The X-Files Wonder Team has wrapped up another one!" "Get off me you big lug." I teased. "Big lug?" "Yeah, but you're my big lug," I said as he rolled off me. I raised up on all fours and then leaned down to kiss him slowly and thoroughly. I was feeling mighty mischievous. He must have seen it on my face. "What are you thinking, you little minx?" I grinned. "I'm thinking that I can't wait to fuck you in my own bed." He guffawed and nearly choked on his laughter. "You're going to kill me, G-Woman. I'm not a young man anymore." "Well, see if you can keep up, O.K." "I think I need to start working out again," he said with a perfectly straight face. We both grinned then. "I love you, Mulder." "I love you too. Let's go home, Scully." "Your home or my home?" "Home is where ever you are." That comment made me misty. "My home, then." He smiled and we got up heading for another shower. This regular sex was sticky business but I was loving every minute of it. Life with Mulder as my man was definitely going to be interesting. Sticky but i nteresting. THE END. EMAIL WELCOME AT: DONNILEE@JUNO.COM FOR OTHER STORIES BY ME, GO TO: http://www.angelfire.com/ak3/kimpa/