PART 13
   
   Scully paled considerably and sagged back in her chair.
   
   "What are you talking about?" Mulder asked, looking from Susan to
   Scully.
   
   "She knows what I mean."
   
   "Scully?" Mulder asked softly.
   
   Scully opened and closed her mouth a few times before she could
   respond. There were tears in her eyes. "How do you know that? I never
   told anyone," she said in a small voice, her eyes wide.
   
   Susan slowly approached the table. She spread her hands out in front
   of her and spoke as soothingly and as carefully as she could. "The
   same way I know your favorite color is red, but you don't wear it
   because you don't like the way it clashes with your hair. That your
   first real kiss was at 16 with a boy named Chris." She smiled. "You
   had a huge crush on him."
   
   Scully didn't move, Mulder silently watched.
   
   "That you still wonder if your father approved of your decision to
   join the FBI and give up medicine. Why you guard your feelings so
   fiercely; you don't want to be hurt the way Ethan hurt you. How you
   cried the entire weekend after Emily died. Why you acted the way you
   did in Philadelphia. Why you didn't like Diana Fowely." She paused to
   look at Mulder. He was staring at Scully.
   
   "I know you never told Mulder how much pain you were in before your
   cancer went into remission." Susan leaned close and spoke so softly
   that only Scully could hear her. "And how you feel about Mulder."
   
   Scully reacted as if she had been slapped.
   
   "Who the hell are you!?" She yelled.
   
   Mulder placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down.
   "Scully, it's OK."
   
   "It's all right, Mulder, I knew she would react this way." Susan said.
   
   Redirecting her attention to Scully, she put her hand out. "I couldn't
   understand what I felt each time I touched you, but I think I finally
   figured it out."
   
   "What are you talking about?" Mulder asked.
   
   Scully looked down at Susan's hand as though it was the most vile
   thing she had ever seen.
   
   "You felt it," Susan explained. "You felt me each time I touched you.
   No one has ever done that before." Her hand was still extended.
   
   Scully looked up, her eyes cleared briefly.
   
   "That's right," Susan said. "That sense of warmth you felt, the
   feeling of butterflies in your stomach, that's me. You know what I'm
   talking about."
   
   Scully didn't respond.
   
   "What do you mean she feels you?" Mulder asked.
   
   Susan looked at him out of the corner of her eye, she didn't want to
   take her attention away from Scully.
   
   "You're more open than you think you are," she said to her.
   
   Scully started to shake her head as she rose out of her chair.
   
   Susan took a step forward.
   
   "Don't come near me," Scully warned.
   
   "Dana," Susan cried. "I know you believe me, you're just afraid to
   open up to anyone."
   
   Mulder extended his hand toward Scully. "It's OK, Scully, I freaked
   out the first time, too."
   
   Scully looked at him, betrayal written all over her face.
   
   "You knew about this and never told me!" Her voice started to rise.
   
   Susan slumped down in a chair, she rested her forehead on her hand and
   rubbed her face.
   
   "I couldn't tell you," he pleaded.
   
   "Why not!?"
   
   "Because she trusted me," he implored.
   
   Scully was speechless, the fight flew out of her. She looked over at
   Susan who suddenly looked like a defeated woman. She was sitting
   forward in her chair, resting her head in the cradle of her arms.
   Scully sat down again.
   
   The room was so quiet the only noise was the sound of traffic from the
   LIE. No one moved or spoke for several minutes
   
   Scully hesitated before she asked carefully, "do you get that kind of
   information with every one you meet?"
   
   Susan raised her head, her eyes were tired as she responded slowly.
   "Only with people I have had contact with. If I don't touch you I only
   get faint vibrations. I can tell what you're feeling; whether or not
   you're telling the truth," she explained. "I can also show others what
   I see."
   
   Scully nodded considering Susan's answer. "But not everyone can feel
   you?" she asked.
   
   "I only know of two people who can sense my emotions," she glanced at
   Mulder, "And that's because I let them."
   
   Mulder looked down. Scully wasn't lost on their exchange.
   
   "But I don't feel what you are feeling," she said, confused.
   
   "No, you don't," Susan responded. "But you sense my energy."
   
   A small smile formed on Scully's face, Susan smiled as well.
   
   "You sound like Melissa," she said.
   
   "Thank you," Susan said softly.
   
   Scully reached across the table and rested her hand close to Susan's.
   Mulder looked up at the movement. Susan watched her, but Scully's
   attention was focused on her hand.
   
   "That warmth, that feeling of static electricity," Scully asked and
   looked up. "That's you?" Her voice was full of wonder.
   
   Susan nodded, but didn't speak.
   
   "If no one has ever sensed that without your letting them, why do I?"
   she tilted her head in question.
   
   "I said, I only know of two people who can sense what I'm feeling."
   She let out a breath. "You are the only person I know who can feel
   *me*."
   
   Scully crinkled her eyebrows in confusion.
   
   "Everyone has their own electrical current, right?" Susan asked.
   
   Scully nodded.
   
   "Some believe it is the soul, or aura," she glanced at Mulder,
   returning her eyes to Scully, she continued, "That's what you feel."
   
   "I feel your aura?" Scully asked skeptically.
   
   Mulder laughed.
   
   Scully gave him a look and he sobered quickly.
   
   Susan chuckled.
   
   "I don't know what to call it," Susan explained. "You feel my energy."
   
   "Why?"
   
   "I don't know."
   
   Scully picked up her hand and held it over Susan's. She paused inches
   from contact, suddenly uncomfortable.
   
   Susan sensed Scully's apprehension and looked over to Mulder, then
   behind him to the clock on the night stand. It read 4:13. Susan stood
   and Scully pulled her hand back.
   
   "Mulder," Susan said. "Why don't you go in Mike's room and order an
   early dinner for us." It wasn't a question.
   
   Mulder appeared momentarily confused, but rose anyway. He glanced at
   Scully and realized Susan was asking for privacy.
   
   "You're entrusting your health to me?" he asked with a smile.
   
   "I'm sure you'll make the appropriate choices," Susan said. She
   approached Mulder and shoved him through the doorway.
   
   He turned suddenly. "Be gentle with her," he said with affection.
   
   "I'm always gentle," she said mischievously and closed the door in his
   face.
   
   Susan leaned back on the door, looking at Scully. "Dana?" she asked,
   "Do you want to get more comfortable?"
   
   Scully turned in her chair to face her. A smile crossed her lips. "Why
   does that sound like a line?"
   
   Susan smiled and let her head hang down. She snorted. "It did sound
   like that, didn't it?" She looked up. "I just meant that..."
   
   Scully interrupted her. "I know what you meant." She got up out of her
   chair, slipped off her shoes and sat cross legged on the bed.
   
   "Mike and Mulder are the only ones who know about this," Susan said as
   she slowly stepped toward her.
   
   Scully looked uncomfortable again.
   
   Susan sat down opposite her with one leg bent and the other hanging
   off the side.
   
   "I feel like I'm 19 again and on the couch with Tommy Hamilton,"
   Scully said with a nervous laugh.
   
   Susan gave her a lopsided smile. "In some ways, this can be more
   intimate than sex."
   
   Scully took a deep breath and released it.
   
   "If it makes you feel better, you're the first person I told this
   way," Susan said.
   
   "How do you mean?" Scully asked.
   
   Susan clasped her hands, cracking her knuckles. "Well," she said.
   "Mulder was my first," she paused, looked up and smiled. "I mean, not
   my *first*, but he's the first person I ever told."
   
   "And you were in love with him," Scully added.
   
   "Yes, and it turned out to be a very interesting weekend." Susan
   grinned.
   
   Scully looked at her hands. "Have you told him?"
   
   Susan frowned.
   
   "Mulder. Have you told Mulder how I feel about him?"
   
   Susan shook her head. "I never tell anyone what I read from other
   people."
   
   "Why?"
   
   "It's not right," she said simply.
   
   Scully nodded. "Why was Mulder your first?"
   
   Susan turned to look at the closed door that led to Michael's room.
   "It felt right, I loved him, and trusted him completely. I still do."
   
   Scully continued to look at her hands.
   
   "Mulder feels things very deeply, deeper than anyone I've ever met."
   
   "And you let him feel what you're feeling?" Scully asked.
   
   "Well, that was something I had no control over."
   
   Scully looked at her.
   
   A self deprecating smiled crossed Susan's face. "Let's just say that I
   lost complete control of myself that weekend." She paused to rub her
   forehead. "And it, ah, left some residual side effects in Mulder."
   
   "What kind of side effects?" Scully asked curiously.
   
   Susan squirmed. "I don't think I should tell you all of them, but I
   will tell you that because of it, he is a tad empathic. If someone
   needs help, he feels obligated to help them, because he can feel a
   touch of what they're feeling."
   
   "That's why Mulder's drawn to lost souls?" Scully asked.
   
   Susan nodded.
   
   "You won't tell me what else you did to him?" she asked with a smile.
   
   "Hopefully you'll find out for yourself."
   
   Scully looked up.
   
   "With Michael it was a conscious decision," she said ignoring Scully's
   reaction.
   
   "How so?"
   
   "It's different with Michael," Susan said. "Mulder can only sense my
   stronger emotions. Michael senses everything, but only when he touches
   me. But when I'm upset, he can pick up my emotions from the other side
   of the room."
   
   "Why?"
   
   "Because I opened completely to him."
   
   "Why?" Scully asked again.
   
   "Because I knew right away that he was the person I wanted to spend
   the rest of my life with."
   
   Scully nodded.
   
   "Why are you telling me all this?" Scully asked.
   
   "First, it's only fair," she said. "Second, and most importantly, I
   trust you."
   
   Scully quietly considered her words.
   
   "Look, you're tired and you're hungry." She patted Scully's leg as she
   got up. "Let's see what Mulder ordered for us and talk about this
   later, besides, we seemed to have gotten a bit side tracked."
   
   Scully got up and followed Susan to the door. "We did kind of forget
   about the case, didn't we." Scully said.
   
   "Yeah, sorry," Susan said with a smile. "I have a tendency to be
   easily distracted. It's a bad habit."
   
   Scully opened the door, finding Mulder sitting at the table with
   enough food to feed four hungry lumberjacks.
   
   "Jesus, Mulder, who are you trying to feed, the Dallas Cowboys?" Susan
   said eyeing the food.
   
   "No, just the cheerleaders."
   
   "I don't cheer for you anymore, Mulder, you're going to have to be
   your own pep squad," Susan looked at Scully who was trying to hide a
   smile.
   
   
   The Marriott
   
   Room 1129
   
   5:56 PM
   
   
   "Holy Christ, Susan, you ate the whole thing," Mulder said amazed.
   
   Susan leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the table.
   "Hey, I like pie," she said.
   
   "Yeah, but you ate the whole thing!"
   
   "I like chocolate cream pie, besides, Dana ate all the ice cream!"
   
   Scully paused, the spoon inches from her mouth. "Hey, don't bring me
   into this."
   
   "But I really wanted some of that," he whined.
   
   Susan looked down at her plate, there was a glob of chocolate left.
   She scooped it up with her finger and presented it to him, daring him
   to take it.
   
   Mulder's smile vanished. He eyed her finger warily, but made no move
   to take it. Next to him, Scully shifted and placed her spoon into the
   empty bowl. She suddenly wanted to be someplace else.
   
   Susan's eyes darted to Scully. She returned her gaze back to Mulder,
   smiled and put her finger in her mouth.
   
   She got up to go to the bathroom. As she passed Mulder she put her
   hand on his shoulder and leaned down to speak into his ear. "Smart
   move, Mulder."
   
   When she returned, she found Mulder and Scully cleaning up the remains
   of their dinner and dessert. They were moving around comfortably.
   Susan stopped to observe them.
   
   Scully picked up the empty ice cream bowl and placed it on the food
   cart. She turned to go back to the table, but Mulder blocked her path.
   She stepped to the right, so did he. She stepped to the left, but he
   did, too. They both stopped and smiled. Mulder placed his hands on
   Scully's shoulders and gently moved her to the left. Scully bowed her
   head and smiled shyly. Mulder walked past her, his shoulder just
   touching hers. Scully brushed her hair back from her face to tuck it
   behind her ear, she was still smiling when she reached for the pie
   plate.
   
   "Mulder, I never knew you liked chocolate cream pie," Scully said,
   dropping the plate on the cart.
   
   "Sweet Potato pie is my favorite, but chocolate cream runs a close
   second," he responded.
   
   Scully looked down at the smear of chocolate Susan left on the plate,
   a strange expression on her face. Mulder came up behind her.
   
   "Hey, you OK?" he asked.
   
   She turned around to face him. "I'm fine."
   
   He frowned.
   
   "No, really," she assured him. "I'm feeling pretty good." She rested
   her hand on his forearm.
   
   Mulder nodded. "Did everything go OK in there with Susan?"
   
   Scully wet her lips in a nervous gesture. "It went..." she trailed
   off. "It's just unnerving to have someone know you so well."
   
   "I know," Mulder said. "But Susan's a good person. She would never
   betray a confidence."
   
   "For some strange reason, I know that; I trust her."
   
   "Good," he said. "I want you to like her."
   
   "I do."
   
   Mulder smiled and reached out to finger her cross, then moved to
   straighten the clasp. "Can I ask what she told you?"
   
   Scully looked at him, pondering his invasion of her personal space,
   then smiled. "She told me she left, what did she call it? 'Residual
   side effects' in you," she said coyly and reached out to fix the
   collar of his shirt.
   
   Mulder released her necklace and swallowed audibly. He wouldn't meet
   her eyes. "What did she tell you?" he croaked.
   
   Scully grinned at his discomfort (so did Susan). She patted his cheek.
   "Don't worry Mulder, she wouldn't tell me the sordid details," she
   said and walked back to the table.
   
   Mulder sighed, turning to face her he asked, "did anything happen?"
   
   Before Scully could answer, Susan strode further into the room. "It's
   OK, Mulder, I left her a virgin."
   
   Scully snorted.
   
   Mulder looked confused.
   
   "I didn't show her anything," Susan clarified. "I didn't want to dump
   everything on her at once."
   
   "Thank God for that," Scully said under her breath.
   
   
   The Marriott
   
   Room 1130
   
   
   20 minutes later...
   
   
   "He's been gone a long time," Mulder said looking at his watch.
   
   "I know," Susan responded.
   
   "He was a little pissed," he added.
   
   "I know that, too."
   
   Mulder dropped Susan's profile and ran his hands through his hair.
   "Why is Williams starting a separate investigation?" he asked.
   
   "I thought you were in charge of the investigation," Scully said from
   her place at the desk.
   
   Susan carefully placed her pen on the table and looked up from her
   paperwork. "He still believes in orthodox police work."
   
   "The horror," Mulder laughed.
   
   "Shut up Mulder," Scully chided.
   
   "He believes that because Townsend's fingerprints are on the murder
   weapon, then he must have committed the crimes," Susan said.
   
   "But you don't," Mulder said.
   
   "Didn't we already cover this?" Susan asked a bit annoyed.
   
   "OK," Scully said as she rose from her chair. "You said he wants to
   start a manhunt for Townsend, but it's a waste of time."
   
   Susan nodded.
   
   "And Mulder, you said he doesn't fit the profile."
   
   Mulder nodded.
   
   "Why?"
   
   "Well, first of all the profile is for a white man in his late 20's,
   early 30's. Marcus Townsend is a black man in his 40's," Mulder said
   sarcastically.
   
   "Profiles have been wrong," Scully said.
   
   "But I haven't," Susan said.
   
   "Yes you have," Mulder pointed out.
   
   "Three times! I've been wrong three times!" Susan said, her voice
   starting to rise. "And each time it was because someone was
   suppressing the evidence!"
   
   Scully sat sideways on the bed. "OK, Susan. Calm down," she said.
   
   Susan removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry, I'm just
   *really* tired of having this conversation."
   
   "How do you know you're right?" Scully asked.
   
   "I don't see Townsend," Susan said quietly.
   
   "What do you mean you don't see him?"
   
   "I mean, that when I pick up the evidence or touch the body, I don't
   see Townsend."
   
   "Do you mean you see a picture of another man?" Scully asked.
   
   "It's not like that," Susan said. "I've touched things Townsend has
   touched. He has his own signature, his own residue. Everyone does. And
   when I touch the evidence from this case, I don't feel Townsend's
   signature."
   
   "What do you feel?" Scully asked.
   
   "I'm not sure, it's hard to explain." Susan got up to refill her glass
   of ginger ale. "It's all kind of jumbled. I've never had that happen
   before."
   
   "What do you mean?" Mulder asked.
   
   "It's not clean. It's like there's a buffer between him and me."
   
   "Do you think he's like you?" Mulder asked.
   
   "I told you, Mulder, this is not an X-File," Susan said sounding
   annoyed again.
   
   "All right," Scully said slowly. "Can you explain the buffer? Maybe it
   will help us understand why you are having such trouble."
   
   "I *can't* explain it, that's the problem."
   
   Susan sat next to Scully, drained her glass then placed it on the
   night stand.
   
   Scully extended her hand to Susan. "Can you show me?" she asked.
   
   Mulder stood. "I don't think that's a good idea, Scully."
   
   Susan looked at Scully's hand. "I don't know, Mulder," she said.
   "Because she's never done it before, she might get a clearer
   vibration."
   
   Mulder shook his head. "It's too dangerous, you don't know how she
   will react to it."
   
   "I'm in the room," Scully said irritated. "And I can make my own
   decisions, Mulder. I want to do this."
   
   "And you are a bit more open," Susan said to Scully before she glanced
   at Mulder. "Besides, you're tainted," she said.
   
   "Tainted how?" Mulder asked.
   
   "Residual side effects," Susan reminded him.
   
   Mulder frowned.
   
   Scully bumped Susan's arm with her elbow. "Will you show me?" she
   asked again.
   
   Susan shifted so that she was facing her. "This can be a little
   intense," Susan warned.
   
   "I'm ready whenever you are," Scully said with false bravado.
   
   Susan raised her hand palm up. She looked at Scully, then at her hand.
   "It will be easier if you come to me. You will know when you make
   contact."
   
   Scully started to place her hand in Susan's.
   
   "Wait." Susan put her other hand up, halting Scully's movement.
   "Mulder, sit behind her" He complied. "Now, if you start to feel
   uncomfortable, just pull back," she said to Scully. "Mulder, don't
   touch her until she releases my hand or until I tell you to."
   
   "Why?" he asked.
   
   "Just do it. When it's over you will help ground her."
   
   "OK"
   
   Susan lowered her hand and gestured for Scully to continue.
   
   Scully took a deep breath and put her hand in Susan's.
   
   
   PART 14
   
   
   Susan tenderly gripped Scully's hand.
   
   "I don't feel anything," Scully said.
   
   "I know."
   
   "No, I mean I don't feel *anything*, not even what I felt before."
   
   "I know, that's because I'm consciously blocking you," Susan
   explained.
   
   Susan took a deep breath and relaxed a little.
   
   Scully stiffened. "OK, I felt that." A sense of warmth flowed through
   her and ended at the pit of her stomach where it intensified.
   
   "Shhhh, be quiet and relax," Susan whispered, closing her eyes. Scully
   closed hers as well.
   
   Susan slowed her breathing as she mentally visualized one of the
   knives from the crime scene. She turned it around in her mind and
   focused on the handle of the knife, concentrating on the images it
   invoked in her.
   
   Susan's gripped tightened.
   
   Scully grimaced.
   
   Mulder watched the exchange with fascination. He had never seen it,
   only experienced it. He knew it could be highly erotic if Susan
   intended it to be that way. But what he was observing still seemed
   extremely intimate.
   
   Scully's eyebrows dipped as she frowned. A bead of sweat formed above
   her upper lip and her mouth opened slightly, her breathing quickening.
   
   Mulder found himself becoming slightly aroused.
   
   The rest of the room disappeared to Susan as relaxed completely.
   
   A moan escaped Scully's open mouth. Suddenly Susan's hand clamped
   tightly as the muscles in her arm flexed.
   
   What felt like a bolt of electricity flowed through Susan's hand into
   Scully. Pain radiated up Scully's arm into her chest. A white light
   flashed before her closed eyes as all the muscles in her body cramped.
   She gasped. It felt as if all her neurons were firing at once. Scully
   remotely wondered if this is what a seizure felt like before all
   conscious thought left her.
   
   Suddenly images flooded Scully's mind. She saw impressions of a knife
   coming down imbedding itself in the chest of a body. She physically
   reacted. It came down again and again. Each time Scully's back arched
   as if it was stabbing into her. She cried out in pain.
   
   Mulder stood. Scully's body was reacting violently as if she were
   being tortured. His heart pounded. Susan was pulled forward each time
   Scully pulled back. Susan's knuckles were white with tension, her face
   a painful grimace. Her teeth clenched.
   
   Susan was aware of what was happening, but couldn't stop it. Her whole
   body was rigid. It was as if she were being electrocuted. Her limbs
   would not respond to her commands. She tried to mentally pull back,
   but she couldn't.
   
   Scully stopped moving and started making strange sounds in her throat.
   In her mind, she saw a rope being tightened around a woman's neck. The
   woman was begging for her life, pleading for sympathy. It was answered
   with a laugh.
   
   Mulder's panic grew as Scully stopped breathing, her body flaying. He
   started screaming for Susan to let go, but she didn't respond.
   
   He reached a hand out, remembering Susan's warning not to touch
   Scully, but her lips were starting to turn blue from loss of oxygen.
   
   "SUSAN LET HER GO!!" he yelled.
   
   Susan let out a groan but didn't physically respond.
   
   Scully started to convulse. Her eyes fluttered open, but only the
   white was visible, her eyes were rolled back. Her free hand went to
   her throat, trying to pull off an invisible binding.
   
   Mulder ignored Susan's warning. Reaching out, he grabbed Scully's
   wrist and then Susan's. He pulled with all his strength, but he
   couldn't get their hands apart.
   
   Susan cried out as her eyes opened. Mulder released his hold on their
   wrists and Susan's hand finally relaxed. Susan fell back, falling off
   the bed as Scully fell back against the pillows.
   
   Mulder jumped on the bed cradling Scully in his arms. He searched for
   a pulse and found it beating rapidly. Her breathing was labored and
   she was wheezing slightly. Her eyes were open, but her expression was
   blank.
   
   "Scully," Mulder spoke softly. "Come on, come back to me."
   
   He ran his hand down her cheek, but he got no reaction.
   
   "Come on! Scully!" He shook her gently, but still nothing.
   
   Susan laid sprawled on the floor. Her mind cleared and the room swam
   before her eyes. She moaned and sat up. Bad move. The movement caused
   the room to spin faster. Distantly she heard Mulder's voice, but the
   words wouldn't register. Her head pounded violently. She moaned again.
   
   Slowly her senses came back and the furniture stopped moving. She
   reached out for the bed and pulled herself up to her knees. What she
   saw before her almost killed her.
   
   Mulder was cradling Scully's non-responsive body in his arms. His head
   was buried in her neck and he was sobbing. She heard him murmuring
   `Scully' over and over.
   
   "Mulder?" Susan said as she reached out to get his attention.
   
   Mulder pulled back before she could touch him.
   
   "DON'T TOUCH HER!" he screamed, his face wet with tears.
   
   "Mulder? What happened?" Susan asked, as she started to panic. She
   couldn't remember what just took place.
   
   "DON'T TOUCH HER!!" he yelled again.
   
   "MULDER, WHAT HAPPENED?!" She shouted.
   
   Mulder crawled back on the bed away from her, pulling Scully with him.
   
   "YOU!" he screamed. "YOU DID THIS!"
   
   Instantly, her memory flooded back. Her face drained of its blood as
   she sputtered. She fell back, dragging the comforter with her. She
   drunkenly tried to stand and slammed into the dresser, knocking over
   the items on top. The bottle of perfume Michael had given her crashed
   to the floor.
   
   She tried to speak, but nothing came out of her mouth. Susan finally
   regained the ability to stand as she started to cry.
   
   "I..,I.." she stuttered. "I don't know what happened."
   
   Mulder pulled Scully closer to him, she was still non-responsive, but
   her breathing was even.
   
   "I, I lost control." She took a step forward.
   
   "Don't come near her," he growled, his eyes were wild.
   
   His hatred hit her like a bullet.
   
   Susan stumbled back. She slipped on the broken glass and fell, shards
   slicing her left hand. She yelped and brought her hand to her chest,
   soaking her shirt with blood.
   
   Mulder didn't move, his attention focused on Scully.
   
   "Dana?" he asked, hoping the use of her first name would bring her
   around. It didn't work. He was caressing her brow, crying
   uncontrollably.
   
   Susan struggled to stand and backed away.
   
   "I'm sorry," she said. Mulder didn't respond. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
   I'm sorry." She said over and over until she reached the door. She
   flung it open and fled down the hall.
   
   Michael turned the corner and Susan collided with him. The impact
   knocked him against the wall. Susan scrambled to her feet, still
   cradling her hand against her chest. The front of her shirt was now
   completely soaked red. Michael reached out to grab her, but she
   reacted by slamming him against the wall. Michael's eyes widened at
   her strength.
   
   "DON'T TOUCH ME!" she bellowed.
   
   She took off down the hall so fast that she was already at the stairs
   before Michael brought himself to his feet. He tried to run after her,
   but when he opened the door to the stairs she was gone. Michael pulled
   open doors on three floors before he started back up the stairs.
   
   His feet thudded down the hall to his room. He ripped the door open
   and hollered at Mulder.
   
   "WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED HERE?!"
   
   Mulder was rocking Scully back and forth in his arms. "She won't wake
   up," he said, his voice laced with tears. "She won't wake up." He
   brought his face back to her neck and he sobbed.
   
   Michael was glued in place.
   
   Suddenly, Scully groaned.
   
   Mulder's head shot up and Michael ran to the bed.
   
   "Scully?" Mulder pleaded.
   
   Her face scrunched and she groaned again.
   
   "Mulder, let her go," Michael commanded.
   
   Mulder ignored him.
   
   "MULDER! LET HER GO!" He commanded again and grabbed Mulder's shirt to
   pulled him off of her.
   
   Mulder started to fight him. "LET ME GO!" He brought his fist back and
   punched Michael square in the jaw. Michael's head snapped back, but he
   didn't release him. He tightened his grip and lifted Mulder off his
   feet. He stepped forward until Mulder's back connected roughly with
   the wall. The force caused Mulder's head to smack the wall, but he
   continued to struggle.
   
   "MULDER!" he yelled. He did it again, finally getting his attention.
   "You have to let her come back by herself. You can't touch her, she
   doesn't need the extra stimulation!"
   
   "HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW!!" he shouted, struggling again.
   
   Michael slammed him against the wall again.
       "Because the same thing once happened to Susan!"
       
   Part 15
   
   
   
   He continued to struggle until Michael's words sunk in. After a minute
   of thrashing around, Mulder stopped moving, his eyes widened and he
   raised his hands in surrender. Michael released him, letting him fall
   to the floor.
   
   Michael walked over to Scully who was lying prone on the bed, her
   breathing was steady. She looked as if she were sleeping.
   
   "We should take her to the hospital," Mulder said as he picked himself
   up.
   
   "And tell them what?"
   
   "I don't know, but she needs medical attention."
   
   Michael turned suddenly and Mulder stepped back. "What the hell are
   they going to do? They won't even know why she's unconscious."
   
   "We have to do something!" Mulder shouted.
   
   Michael took a step forward as he spoke. "The best thing for her is
   rest and to be left alone. Her system has been overloaded. She will
   come around on her own. Now tell me what the hell." He stopped
   abruptly when he heard a crunching sound under his shoes. He looked
   down and saw glass all over the carpet and a lot of blood. His eyes
   scanned the floor until they rested on Mulder's shoes. He looked up at
   him and Mulder stumbled back, terrified. Michael's expression was one
   of barely contained rage.
   
   "What the hell happened here?" he said slowly, his voice a low growl.
   
   "I..., I..., I don't know," Mulder stuttered. The back of his knees
   hit the coffee table, forcing him to sit.
   
   Michael approached and loomed over him. "That's Susan's blood." He
   pointed behind him, the tendons on his neck clearly visible.
   
   Mulder was breathing quickly, his heart was pounding. The fight or
   flight instinct was starting to take over.
   
   "She knocked into the dresser, I think she fell and cut her hand," he
   explained.
   
   Michael leaned down, his breath fanned Mulder's face. "What happened,"
   he asked again. "And I want the whole story."
   
   Mulder gulped. He tilted his head back so he could look at his face.
   "She was telling us about the problems she's been having with the
   case," he said quickly. "Scully suggested that Susan show her what she
   was seeing. Then it all went to hell."
   
   Mulder stood, causing Michael to stand back. He watched Mulder pace as
   he relayed the events leading up to Michael's arrival. His body
   language was erratic; he was pointing and gesturing wildly.
   
   Mulder paused and looked at Michael, his face pale, mouth open. "I
   yelled at her. I told her it was her fault. I hated her for it," he
   finished in a small voice.
   
   Michael stormed forward; Mulder scrambled back. "I was upset! Look at
   her!" Mulder yelled, indicating Scully.
   
   Michael grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him so hard into the
   sliding closet doors that they fell off their tracks. Mulder grunted
   in pain.
   
   "YOU THINK SHE MEANT FOR THIS TO HAPPEN!?" Michael screamed. "YOU
   THINK SHE MEANT TO HURT HER!?" He tossed him to the floor like a rag
   doll. Mulder had enough sense not to fight back. If he did, he knew
   Michael would surely pulverize him.
   
   Mulder stayed on the floor, looking up at him. "NO! NO!"
   
   "WHERE DID SHE GO!?"
   
   "I DON'T KNOW, SHE TOOK OFF!"
   
   Michael reached for him, but stopped when Scully groaned. Both men
   froze. Michael backed off and went to Scully's side, Mulder quickly
   followed. Her eyes were open, but the pupils were dilated.
   
   "Scully?" Mulder asked.
   
   She murmured, but didn't respond.
   
   "Hey, Scully. Can you answer me?" Mulder reached out to stroke her
   cheek, but Michael caught him before he could touch her.
   
   "Don't," he said quietly.
   
   "Mulder?" she asked, her eyes looking from side to side as if she were
   searching for him.
   
   "I'm right here, Scully." He sat down next to her on the bed.
   
   She finally found him and she smiled, then frowned.
   
   "What?" Mulder asked. "What's the matter?"
   
   "Why am I in bed? And why do you look so frightened?" she asked
   sounding very sleepy.
   
   Mulder glanced at Michael who shook his head.
   
   "It's OK, you just relax," he said trying to keep her calm.
   
   She stared at him in confusion, then grinned. "OK," she said then
   passed out.
   
   
   The Marriott
   
   Room 1121
   
   10:01 PM
   
   
   
   "Good evening. I'm Jeff Feldman. And I'm Lisa Scott. And this is
   Channel 12, Long Island News, Evening Edition. We open tonight's
   program with what is hopefully a break in the case of the Long Island
   Slasher. At a press conference held this evening, FBI Special Agent in
   Charge of the Melville Field Office, Andrew Williams, said he has
   identified the perpetrator as Marcus Townsend of Commack."
   
   "Yes, Lisa. Tonight the FBI released a photo of Marcus Townsend, a
   convenience store clerk at the 7-11 behind me. He is on probation for
   attempted murder of this man, Roger Gunther, a known drug dealer in
   Commack. Townsend shot Gunther in what was described as a drug deal
   gone bad in 1992. Special Agent Williams describes Townsend as a black
   male, 43 years old, 6'2", and weighing 190 pounds."
   
   "Marcus Townsend is a violent man and if you see him, call 911
   immediately. Do not try to approach him yourself. He is armed and
   considered extremely dangerous."
   
   "If you have any information about Marcus Townsend, please contact
   your local precinct or you can call Crime Stoppers at 1-888-555-TIPS,
   all information will remain confidential."
   
   Mulder muted the television and tossed the remote on the coffee table.
   He leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbed his face and ran his hands
   through his hair. The light from the TV was the only illumination in
   the room.
   
   He glanced over at Scully, who was resting peacefully in her own bed.
   Michael and Mulder had moved her when she came around again. Michael
   thought it would be wise for her to wake up in her own room. She was
   still a bit out of it, but she knew who she was and who they were.
   
   Mulder rose from the couch, his knees popping slightly. He stood
   looking down at her, rubbing his tired eyes. He looked up when the
   door to his room opened and closed quietly.
   
   "How's she doing?" Michael asked when he walked to the adjoining door.
   
   "She's sleeping. She woke up again about a half hour ago looking for
   Mr. Wubby," Mulder responded as he approached Michael who stepped back
   to allow Mulder to enter.
   
   "Who's Mr. Wubby?" Michael asked.
   
   Mulder shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me." Mulder closed the door
   behind him and switched on the light. "Any news?"
   
   Michael sagged onto the bed. "Nothing."
   
   Mulder sat on the coffee table, facing him.
   
   "I found blood in the stairway and some in the parking lot." Mike
   stood quickly. "And she took your car."
   
   "My car?" Mulder asked, "Why'd she take my car?"
   
   "She wouldn't be able to shift our car," Michael explained.
   
   "How'd she get the keys?"
   
   "You got me," Michael paused. "I have no idea where the hell she went,
   either. I checked the house; I was only greeted by the dog. I even
   called her cousin, Mary, in East Hampton, but she hasn't heard from
   her."
   
   "Has this ever happened before?" Mulder asked, watching Michael pace.
   
   "Which part?"
   
   "Both."
   
   "No," he quickly responded. "You and I are the only ones she has ever
   shared with," he said as he sat down again.
   
   Mulder nodded.
   
   "And she's not one to take off," he said, shrugging off his jacket.
   "Susan loves a good argument." He smiled. "Besides, she also knows how
   pissed off I would get. Like that would stop her," he finished
   quietly.
   
   "Was she bleeding badly when you saw her?" Mulder asked.
   
   Michael sighed. "Enough to soak the front of her shirt. It's a wonder
   her feet aren't cut as well."
   
   "Maybe she went to the hospital."
   
   "She would have called me."
   
   "Maybe she couldn't," Mulder suggested.
   
   The two men sat quietly, contemplating the carpet. Michael reached
   into his pocket for his cell phone and called all the hospitals in the
   area. No one remembered seeing a woman of Susan's description.
   
   "She'll come back on her own," Mulder said as Michael threw the phone
   down on the bed.
   
   "She'd better."
   
   "You said that what happened to Scully once happened to Susan," Mulder
   asked, trying to distract him. "When?"
   
   Michael sighed and stood. "It's not exactly the same thing, but it
   happened when she was six. She doesn't remember it. Her aunt told me,"
   he said. "You know her parents were killed in a car accident, right?"
   
   Mulder nodded. "Hit by a drunk driver."
   
   "Well, Susan was with her Aunt Cathy when a cop came to tell them. He
   had just come from the scene. From what I've learned, it was pretty
   gruesome." He leaned on the dresser and crossed his arms over his
   chest.
   
   "As he was talking, Susan started to cry. The cop, thinking he could
   calm her, leaned down to hug her." Michael stopped and chewed on the
   inside of his cheek. He looked at the floor as he continued. "As soon
   as the cop touched her, she started screaming 'NO' over and over. She
   was hysterical. She started to struggle against him, trying to get
   away. He thought she was reacting to what he'd told her and held on
   tighter. He could never have known that she was probably seeing the
   accident through the cop's eyes." Michael's voice cracked on the last
   word.
   
   "Oh my God," Mulder whispered.
   
   "Yeah," Michael said, clearing his throat. "Her aunt told me that she
   tried to calm Susan down, but she wasn't responding to anyone. She was
   screaming for her mother and father, flailing around. It was horrible.
   Finally, she passed out from exhaustion. She was completely gone for
   five days. Nothing, it was like she was in a coma."
   
   Mulder was silent. He never knew. He couldn't even imagine what that
   must have been like. What he remembered of his sister's abduction
   paled in comparison. For a six year old to see how her parents died.
   Jesus! Thank God she doesn't remember it. He suddenly felt very
   ashamed about the things he said to her.
   
   "She woke up when everyone backed off; left her alone," Michael
   continued. "Her doctor couldn't explain it. He said she must have had
   a seizure. There was tremendous brain activity; it was like she short
   circuited."
   
   "That's probably what happened," Mulder said. "She couldn't handle
   what she had seen and her body reacted the way it did in order to
   protect her. That's probably what happened to Scully."
   
   Michael nodded. "That's what I think, too."
       
   "Susan doesn't remember anything?" Mulder asked.
   
   "Nope," Michael replied. "She thinks she was sick and unconscious for
   a few days. I don't want to tell her."
   
   "I don't blame you. But she can't pick it up from you?"
   
   "Maybe she unconsciously doesn't want to."
   
   Mulder reached over, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. After a
   few minutes of channel surfing, he clicked the mute button.
   
   "Williams held a press conference tonight, he released photos of
   Townsend."
   
   "I know," Michael said. "That's one of the reasons why he wanted to
   see me. I tried to convince him to give us more time, but he wouldn't
   listen to a word I had to say. I don't even know why he asked to see
   me."
   
   Mulder shook his head.
   
   Old footage of Present Clinton appeared on the television.
   
   "Hey," Michael said pointing to the TV. "Did Susan tell you we met
   him?"
   
   "No," Mulder said. "When did that happen?"
   
   "It was during the Flight 800 investigation. Susan and I were
   involved. Actually, I think every agent in New York took part in it."
   
   "Were you involved with the recovery?" Mulder asked.
   
   "Hell, no, I refused to let Susan anywhere near the actual site. I
   think that was the only argument I ever won with her," he said with a
   wry smile.
   
   "What happened with Clinton?" Mulder asked after a few minutes.
   
   "He came down to Grumman to look over the wreckage, acting like he was
   really interested in the reconstruction." He paused to rub his cheek.
   The stubble made scratching noises. "He was prancing around, playing
   the part of the good politician, shaking everybody's hand." Michael
   suddenly grinned.
   
   "What?" Mulder asked, smiling in spite of himself.
   
   "Susan refused to shake his hand."
   
   Mulder's smile widened.
   
   "He offered his hand to her and she looked at it like he just stuck
   his dick out."
   
   Mulder laughed. "Might as well have."
   
   Mike chuckled. "Yeah."
   
   "Boy, I could just see you getting pounced by the Secret Service,
   because you decked the President," Mulder said laughing harder.
   
   Michael was laughing, it was a deep, full, belly laugh. "I would have,
   too. I have a tendency to get a little overprotective when it comes to
   Susan. I don't care who you are."
   
   "I know how you feel," Mulder said, his laughter dying down.
   
   Michael quieted. He looked over to the closed door then back to
   Mulder. He raised his eyebrows in question.
   
   Mulder shook his head. "It's not like that."
   
   "Sure it isn't," Michael responded.
   
   Mulder pretended he didn't hear him.
   
   Michael pushed himself away from the dresser and reached for his
   jacket and cell phone.
   
   "I'm going to look around again, check my messages. Maybe she called
   me."
   
   Mulder watched him.
   
   "Let me know when Dana wakes up. I want to talk to her."
   
   Mulder stood to walk him to the door. "I'll call you."
   
   "Thanks," Michael said, grabbing his arm before Mulder could close the
   door. "I'm sorry I roughed you up before."
   
   Mulder smiled. "Believe me, I understand. Besides, I think I should
   apologize for that bruise on your jaw," he said indicating the purple
   mark in front of his ear.
   
   "This?" Michael said, touching the spot. "I've had worse." He turned
   to walk down the hall to his room before Mulder could respond.
   
   Michael pulled his card key out of his pocket, slid it into the lock
   and opened the door. Leaving the lights off, he glanced at the phone
   as he passed it, he had no messages.
   
   Michael pulled off his tie and emptied the contents of his pockets on
   the dresser. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed loudly.
   
   After tossing his shirt on a chair, he sat down on the bed and removed
   his shoes and socks. He laid back, covering his eyes with his hands,
   doing his best to relax.
   
   He was lost. He had no idea what happened or why Susan lost control.
   He was sure Mulder didn't help much by reacting the way he did, but he
   couldn't really blame him. He knew he would have probably reacted in a
   similar way. God, he almost killed him.
   
   "Damn it!" he yelled to the empty room. He didn't know what to do;
   where to look. She had better come back soon, or he was going to go
   out of his mind.
   
   He sat up looking around in the dark and settled on the closed door to
   the next room. He saw that there was a light coming from under it.
   
   He stopped breathing, and realized the noise he heard was not the
   blood pounding in his ears, but the sound of the shower running.
   
   He practically ripped the door off its hinges opening it and peeked
   inside. He pushed it further when there was no sign of Susan. The room
   still reeked of perfume, but the remains of the broken bottle had been
   cleaned up earlier.
   
   Her clothes were strewn about the floor in front of the bathroom. He
   picked up Susan's shirt. It was covered in dried blood. His heart was
   in his throat when he opened the door to the bathroom.
   
   What he saw made him sag against the frame.
   
   Susan's form could be seen through the frosted doors of the shower.
   She was leaning under the spray, one hand against the wall, the other
   clutched against her chest. Her head was hanging forward and she was
   sobbing.
   
   
   
   PART 16
   
   
   Michael slowly walked into the bathroom. He glanced at the counter.
   Various first aid supplies were haphazardly thrown on it, along with
   the remnants of a plastic bag.
   
   As he reached to open one of the shower doors, Susan's head rose.
   Michael was blasted with steam when he looked in.
   
   Susan was trying to get her crying under control, but she was failing
   miserably. Michael unbuttoned his trousers, pulled them and his boxers
   off at once and joined her in the shower.
   
   "Mike," Susan said, her voice hoarse from crying. "Could you please
   just give me some time to myself." She was still facing the wall.
   
   "I think you've had enough time," he replied in a soothing tone.
   
   She turned to him, looking down at the floor. Her tears were mixing
   with the spray from the shower. Michael took a step towards her and
   put his hand out to touch her face. She looked startled and took a
   step back.
   
   "Please don't," she said. "I don't want to hurt you." Her back
   connected with the wall and she suddenly looked like a trapped animal.
   
   Michael knew enough not to push her and dropped his hand.
   
   "You're not going to hurt me. You could never hurt me."
   
   She shook her head, "I hurt you in the hall." He had a hard time
   understanding her, she was crying in earnest again.
   
   "No you didn't," he said, chancing another step forward.
   
   "I DID!" she yelled.
   
   "I'm fine. See?" He reached out to touched her cheek. "Just fine." He
   slid his hand down her neck to her shoulder and pulled her to him. She
   fell into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He wrapped both arms
   around her and cradled her head against him, rocking her gently.
   
   He murmured soothing words into her hair and held her as her body
   shook.
   
   "I almost killed her," Susan said, her voice muffled.
   
   "No, she'll be OK," he rested his cheek against her hair.
   
   She shook her head.
   
   "She's OK," he said again. "She just needs some rest."
   
   "God, Mike," she said as she looked down. She rubbed her eyes with the
   back of her hand. "He hates me," she whispered.
   
   "No, Susie, he doesn't hate you," he caressed her check.
   
   "Yes he does," she rested her forehead on his chest. "I felt it."
   
   Michael sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "He doesn't hate you," he
   said again. "He was just upset. You can't blame him for reacting."
   
   She pushed herself back. "Yeah, he reacted to something I did! I
   almost killed her! No wonder he hates me!" She was crying again.
   
   "No, he doesn't!" He stressed every word. "She's going to be OK. If
   you want when we're out of here, you can go see her."
   
   She wrapped her arms around him again. He held her as she cried. After
   a few minutes Susan took a few deep breaths and stepped back. His
   hands were at her waist.
   
   She sniffed loudly and looked up, she frowned when she saw the bruise
   on his jaw.
   
   "What happened?" she asked, caressing the spot with her right hand.
   
   "Mulder and I got a little overzealous," he smirked.
   
   "Oh, Mike, you didn't hurt `im, did you?"
   
   He shrugged. "He's all right."
   
   Michael took hold of her left wrist. It was wrapped in gauze and
   covered in a plastic bag. He looked at her.
   
   "It's OK. I only had 7 stitches." She wouldn't meet his eyes.
   
   "You went to the hospital!?" His voice rose on the last word.
   
   Susan winced.
   
   Michael did his best to calm himself. "Why didn't you call me?"
   
   "I don't know. I didn't want to face you." She looked up, starting to
   cry again she said, "I'm sorry."
   
   Michael closed his eyes and tugged her to him. "Jesus, Susie. You
   scared the hell out of me."
   
   "I know. I'm sorry."
   
   "Just don't do it again."
   
   She nodded.
   
   "Which hospital did you go to? I called every one around here and no
   one remembered you," he asked when she pulled back.
   
   "Stony Brook."
   
   "I called there."
   
   "It was pretty busy and I paid with my credit card. I didn't want it
   to get back to the Bureau."
   
   He nodded. "What did the doctor say?"
   
   "He said it could be worse. And you know how I bleed."
   
   "Are you OK?"
   
   She sniffed. "I will be. Dana?"
   
   "She woke up a few times. She was coherent, but Mulder told me she
   asked for Mr. Wubby once."
   
   Susan smiled through her tears. "Mr. Wubby was her security blanket
   when she was little. She used to sleep with it. It kept the nightmares
   away."
   
   "Makes sense why she asked for it."
   
   "Yeah."
   
   "Let's get out of here. We'll talk more when you're dry."
   
   Michael reached out for a towel while Susan turned off the shower. He
   quickly dried himself off and slipped on his boxers. Susan started to
   step out, but Michael stopped her.
   
   "Wait," he said.
   
   "What?' she asked, confused.
   
   "Come on, it's not very often you let me do this, but let me take care
   of you," he pleaded.
   
   She rolled her eyes and smiled. He smiled back and she laughed. "Oh
   all right, if you must."
   
   He grinned like an idiot and she laughed again.
   
   "Good," he said. He put his hand out and she moved to put her right
   hand in his, but he shook his head.
   
   She frowned.
   
   "Give me you're other hand."
   
   Susan gave him her wounded hand and he examined it closely.
   
   "Why did you cover it with a plastic bag?"
   
   "The doctor told me not to get it wet."
   
   He nodded. "When do you have to get the stitches out?" he asked as he
   picked up the scissors she left on the counter and proceeded to cut
   the surgical tape that bound the bag to her wrist.
   
   "I don't, they will dissolve on their own. I have to see my doctor as
   soon as I can for a follow up."
   
   "We'll get you there as soon as we get things back to normal."
   
   She snorted. "As normal as things can be for us."
   
   He finished cutting off the tape and the bag, then very delicately
   removed the gauze covering the stitches. He winced.
   
   "Jesus, that must hurt like a sonofabitch."
   
   "I don't feel anything yet, I got four shots of lidocaine."
   
   "Ouch."
   
   "Yeah, now *that* hurt like a sonofabitch."
   
   He replaced the gauze and re-wrapped her hand. Then he picked a towel
   off the rack and dried her. She laughed when he threw it over her head
   to dry her hair, then yelped when he picked her up and carried her out
   of the bathroom.
   
   "I can walk, Mike."
   
   "I know, indulge me."
   
   Michael unceremoniously dropped her on the bed and she bounced a few
   times. He searched her drawers and pulled out a T-shirt and underwear.
   
   "Here, put these on and I'll call for something to eat. I'm starving."
   
   "Trying to cover me up?" she asked as she pulled the shirt over her
   head.
   
   He grinned. "You know I would rather have you naked, but I want you to
   tell me what happened and I don't want to be distracted."
   
   He didn't hear her reply as he walked into his room to order a late
   dinner for himself and a light snack for Susan.
   
   When he returned, Susan was sitting cross legged on the bed and
   combing her hair.
   
   He sat opposite her. "OK, now tell me what happened."
   
   She sighed and dropped the comb. "I'm not exactly sure what happened.
   We were discussing the case..."
   
   He cut her off. "Mulder explained that much to me. Why did you lose
   control?"
   
   She frowned. "I didn't lose control so much as I was distracted."
   
   "Distracted how?"
   
   "You know how I skim your memory as I'm showing you something, like a
   pebble skipping on the surface of a lake?"
   
   He nodded.
   
   Susan played with the cuticles on her fingernails as she spoke. "Well,
   Mulder told me a while ago that Dana had some gaps in her memory, so I
   was expecting to hit a few snags on the way." She paused to move some
   pillows behind her so she could lean back. She was about to continue
   when there was a knock at the door, indicating Mike's dinner had
   arrived.
   
   He held up his hand. "Hold that thought."
   
   He came back carrying a tray with a pitcher, two glasses, a huge
   sandwich for himself and a bowl of dry cereal for her. He set it down
   in between them and he motioned for her to continue. He couldn't
   speak, he had a mouth full of food.
   
   She stared at him. "Hungry?"
   
   He nodded vigorously. "I haven't eaten since breakfast," he said
   around his food. He swallowed. "Keep going."
   
   She continued to stare. "You're a pig, Mike."
   
   He smiled. "Yeah, that's why you love me."
   
   She exaggerated a sigh. "Anyway. Mulder told me that Dana had some
   periods of memory loss, so I had prepared for that before I met her,
   just in case."
   
   "OK, but if you already knew, then what happened?" He poured a glass
   of water for himself and Susan.
   
   She took a sip. "I hit some gaps that were relatively small, but they
   didn't really affect me. I just adjusted accordingly. As I started to
   relax and concentrate on what I read from one of the murder weapons, I
   hit another patch of memory loss. I expected the same thing to happen
   as with the others, but this one was different."
   
   "Different? How?" Michael asked. She had to interpret what he said.
   Fortunately she understood the language of `talking with your mouth
   full'.
   
   "I can't really explain it. Some people remember more than others,
   thus they have more locations for me to skim, some don't remember much
   at all, so the process is quicker. But with Dana, I hit a gigantic
   void."
   
   "A void?"
   
   "Yeah," she said, frowning. "It's hard to describe. The memory gaps
   visually appear as black spots. When I skim past them, it's like that
   rock skipping, I just bounce over it, but with this void..." She
   stopped speaking for a moment to collect her thoughts. She looked up
   at him. "It was awful."
   
   "How?"
   
   She shook her head. "Instead of just bouncing over it, I got caught
   and what I felt was so powerful."
   
   Michael put down his sandwich. "Caught? I don't understand."
   
   "Mulder told me a few years ago that she was abducted, that she was
   missing for about three months and remembers nothing which is
   partially true. She remembers bits and pieces, but that's not what
   screwed me up."
   
   "What did?"
   
   "It was the feelings during it." She rubbed her face. "God, Mike. The
   things that she felt, they..., they were horrible."
   
   "I don't understand, if she doesn't remember that period, how does she
   remember the feelings?"
   
   "I don't know, but." She looked up with tears in her eyes. "It's what
   nightmares are made of."
   
   
   PART 17
   
   
   The Marriott
   
   1:58 Am
   
   April 6
   
   
   Room 1122
   
   
   The light flashed green on the lock as Susan pulled the key card out
   and put it in her back pocket. She gently turned the knob and slipped
   inside the room.
   
   She kept the lights off as she walked to the sleeping form on the bed.
   She noticed that the adjoining door was wide open and smiled to
   herself about his concern.
   
   The light from the window was enough for her to see that Scully was
   resting peacefully as Susan stood next to the bed looking over her.
   Scully's face was relaxed and her breathing was regular. She was lying
   on her back, the blanket pulled to her chin.
   
   Susan sat carefully so as not to awaken her and placed her hand on
   Scully's forehead. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Images
   flashed through her mind as she ran through Scully's current thought
   processes. Visions of memories merged with recent events indicating to
   Susan that Scully was dreaming. She reached further into Scully's
   consciousness looking for any damage to her thinking. She didn't move
   and barely breathed for many minutes. Finally, Susan slid her hand to
   Scully's cheek, opened her eyes and smiled.
   
   "She's going to be all right," she said looking over to the adjoining
   door where Mulder was silently watching. He was standing with his arms
   crossed over his bare chest, a worried look on his face.
   
   Susan removed her hand and stood.
   
   "How did you get in here?" His voice was even.
   
   As an answer, Susan reached into her back pocket and held up a key
   card.
   
   "How did you get that?"
   
   A glimpse of a smile appeared on Susan's lips. "From the guy at the
   front desk. You should know by now that I can be extremely persuasive
   when I want to be." She slowly walked towards Mulder as she spoke,
   stopping a few feet before him.
   
   He looked down and jerked his head toward her hand. Susan raised it so
   he could see it.
   
   "It's not that bad, I've had worse."
   
   Mulder nodded. He looked behind her to Scully, then back to Susan.
   
   Susan turned to look over her shoulder. "Dana has quite a bit of fight
   in her." She turned back to Mulder. "It's going to take more than a
   mind fuck to break her."
   
   Mulder stared at her for a few moments before he moved back into his
   room. Susan silently followed him, closing the door behind her. Next
   thing she knew, Mulder grabbed her upper arms and pulled her into a
   fierce hug. He held her so tight her back cracked causing her to
   grunt. Susan wrapped her arms around his neck, and rested her head on
   his shoulder, her face against his skin. Mulder kissed her temple and
   rested his cheek against the side of her head. They swayed back and
   forth comforting each other with their presence.
   
   No words were spoken, they were not necessary. Mulder didn't have to
   say how he felt, Susan already knew and Mulder sensed Susan's deep
   regret for the events that occurred.
   
   Susan absently wiped her eyes, catching the stray tears that rolled
   down her face as Mulder did the same.
   
   "OK, Mulder, cut it out. You know that I could never stand it when you
   cried."
   
   Mulder chuckled. "I was about to say the same thing to you."
   
   Susan stepped back so she could look at him. "I don't know what's
   wrong with me. Ever since you came here, I've been crying a hell of a
   lot more than I usually do."
   
   "I have that effect on women."
   
   Susan laughed, but her expression changed when she noticed the large,
   purple mark on Mulder's right shoulder. She touched the spot and
   looked up at him.
   
   "Michael?"
   
   He nodded.
   
   "Mulder, I am so sorry."
   
   "We just got a little rough. Remind me to never play football with
   him."
   
   Susan smiled. "He was a Linebacker for Notre Dame. Won the Heisman
   trophy in his junior year, uses it as a paperweight."
   
   "Jesus, Susan, you should've warned me! Talk about your Fighting
   Irish," Mulder exclaimed.
   
   Susan laughed and flopped down on the bed. Mulder followed her. His
   face grew serious when Susan winced as he brushed her hand.
   
   "Susan?" he asked. "What the hell happened?"
   
   Susan sighed and sat up. "That seems to be the big question."
   
   "Is Scully going to be OK?"
   
   Susan nodded. "She'll be fine. She might be a little sensitive to me
   for a bit, but it won't last long."
   
   "No side effects?"
   
   She shook her head. "I didn't share anything with her other than the
   impressions I received from one of the knives. I didn't open to her."
   
   "If you didn't show her that much, then why did she react the way she
   did?"
   
   Susan scooted around so she was facing Mulder as he rose to a sitting
   position.
   
   "Remember when you spoke to me about her abduction?"
   
   Mulder nodded.
   
   "Well, her memory loss is more profound than I anticipated and the
   little bit she remembers contains intense feelings. They were
   overwhelming to me and I was blinded."
   
   Mulder looked confused.
   
   "I didn't want to show her everything I picked up from the murder
   weapon because I wasn't sure how she would react to it. The visions I
   get sometimes can be quite horrific and if you're not used to it...,"
   she trailed off.
   
   "So she was blasted with images from the murder?"
   
   "No, she became the victim."
   
   Mulder's eyes widened.
   
   "She now knows what it's like to be stabbed and strangled to death."
   Her voice cracked slightly.
   
   "Oh, my, God."
   
   "I lost my grip when a piece of memory emerged. Combine that with the
   emotion I was getting and I slipped entirely."
   
   Mulder didn't know what to say.
   
   "I heard you yelling but it was as if I was lost in a fog, I couldn't
   tell what direction your voice was coming from and I was getting so
   bombarded with her emotions from her abduction and from what she was
   experiencing from the murder, that I started to panic. I don't really
   remember what happened after that."
   
   Mulder rubbed his eyes. "I tried to pull you apart, but it didn't
   help. Suddenly you opened your eyes and released her hand. I think you
   fell off the bed."
   
   Susan nodded. "That explains the lump on the back of my head," she
   said as she rubbed the spot. "The next thing I remember is..." She
   looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes. "How much you hated me."
   A tear rolled down her cheek.
   
   "God, Susan," he said reaching for her. "I'm so sorry."
   
   She pulled away. "NO, you had every right to feel that way! I mean,
   you had no idea what happened!" She stood up. "All you knew was that
   Dana was unconscious and I was fine."
   
   "But I know that you would never intentionally hurt her."
   
   Susan dropped back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.
   
   "Now, you said that the memories and the emotions during her abduction
   are what threw you?" he asked after a few moments. "Does that mean
   that she remembers more than she thinks she does?"
   
   She nodded.
   
   "Could you help her remember more from her abduction?"
   
   "I could help her remember all of it."
   
   Mulder was about to respond but was interrupted by a quiet knock on
   the adjoining door.
   
   Mulder jumped off the bed and ran to the door. Scully was standing
   with a blanket draped over her shoulders.
   
   "I heard voices," Scully said.
   
   Mulder grinned and hugged her. Scully stiffened and made no attempt to
   return the embrace. Her eyes were wide and she looked shaken. Susan's
   eyebrows raised and a small smile spread across her face.
   
   Mulder pulled back, keeping his hands on her shoulders. His brow was
   crinkled with concern.
   
   "Are you OK, Scully?" he asked. She didn't respond, just continued to
   stare at him.
   
   Susan quickly got up. "It's OK, Mulder." She peeled his hands off of
   her. "She's just going to be a little sensitive for awhile."
   
   Mulder released her and stepped back. Scully relaxed considerably.
   
   "How do you feel?" Susan asked.
   
   Scully's expression returned to normal. "I'm f...," she started. "I
   feel a little strange."
   
   Susan nodded. "That's to be expected. It'll go away," she said. "How
   much do you remember?"
   
   Scully pondered her question for a moment then responded. "I remember
   all of it." She absently rubbed her neck.
   
   Susan lead Scully back into her room and sat her down on the bed.
   Mulder silently followed.
   
   "Do you remember asking for Mr. Wubby?" Susan asked.
   
   Scully blushed and looked down. "No, I don't remember that. But I do
   remember what happened to that poor woman." She looked up at Susan.
   "Do you get that with all murder weapons?"
   
   Susan nodded grimly.
   
   "How can you live with that?" Scully asked.
   
   "I've gotten a little used to it." Susan sat on the coffee table. "As
   used to it as I can."
   
   Scully wet her lips and scratched her forehead. She looked over at
   Mulder. "Are you OK?"
   
   Mulder laughed. "Yeah, Scully. I'm OK. Now."
   
   Scully continued to look at him. Susan fidgeted and Scully returned
   her attention back to her.
   
   "What happened to your hand?" She asked as she got up to kneel in
   front of Susan so that she could examine her hand.
   
   "I cut myself."
   
   "Did you fall on something?"
   
   "Yeah," she gasped when Scully touched a tender spot. Scully dropped
   her hand as if she was burned.
   
   "Sorry," Susan said. "The lidocaine has worn off."
   
   Scully frowned. "It felt like *I* was in pain."
   
   Susan glanced at Mulder. "You will be a little in tune with me for
   awhile. It will go away when you can get some more rest."
   
   "I don't have to worry about side effects?"
   
   Susan grinned. "No, that won't be a problem. I didn't share with you
   what I shared with Mulder."
   
   Scully nodded, understanding.
   
   Mulder cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. Susan chuckled.
   
   Scully sat back on her heels. "Why was I in bed?"
   
   Susan opened her mouth to respond, but Mulder beat her to it. "We
   think you were overloaded and your body needed to rest so that it
   could catch up with what you saw."
   
   Susan frowned.
   
   Mulder glanced at her. "At least that's what Michael and I think."
   
   Scully rose, returning to her place on the bed. "I guess that makes
   some kind of weird sense."
   
   Mulder smiled. "It's not one of my stranger theories, but it works for
   now."
   
   Scully looked at Susan who appeared to be lost in thought. "Susan?"
   
   Susan's head snapped in Scully's direction. "Huh?"
   
   "Are you all right?"
   
   "I'm fine."
   
   Mulder shook his head. The uncomfortable silence was broken by the
   ringing of the phone in Mulder's room.
   
   "Excuse me," he said as he went to answer it.
   
   Scully leaned in and spoke softly to Susan. "When Mulder hugged me,"
   she paused to look towards Mulder's room. His voice was muffled. "I
   felt strange."
   
   Susan smiled.
   
   "What the hell was that?" she asked urgently.
   
   Susan moved forward so that her face was inches from Scully's. Her
   eyes were bright and her smile widened. "That," she said. "Is how love
   feels."
   
   
   Part 18
   
   
   
   "SHIT!" Mulder slammed the phone down and stormed back into Scully's
   room. He stopped abruptly. Scully and Susan were inches apart from
   each other, looking like girls sharing a secret, except that neither
   of them was speaking. Susan had a smug grin on her face and Scully
   looked as if she had just seen an alien herself.
   
   "Susan?" Mulder asked timidly.
   
   Susan broke eye contact with Scully and slowly turned her head in
   Mulder's direction. Her smiled vanished.
   
   "Um, that was Michael," he said pointing his thumb over his shoulder.
   "He got a call."
   
   Susan's head sagged down. "They found another one."
   
   Mulder didn't respond. He was too busy watching Scully. She still
   hadn't moved.
   
   Mulder approached her. She was starting to scare him.
   
   "Scully?" He went to touch her shoulder with his fingertips but before
   he could make contact, Scully moved back. Mulder frowned and took a
   step forward. "Is everything OK?"
   
   Scully stood up so quickly, her blood pressure didn't have the chance
   to catch up and it caused her to stagger. Mulder grabbed her shoulders
   trying to steady her, but Scully reacted violently and lost her
   balance falling on the bed.
   
   "MULDER!" Susan wrenched Mulder's arm, turning him around. "Go get
   dressed. Michael and I will meet you back here in 10 minutes."
   
   Mulder didn't move.
   
   "DO IT!"
   
   He hesitated for a second. Chancing a glance at Scully, who was now
   standing and straightening her clothes, he nodded and stalked into his
   room, slamming the door behind him.
   
   Susan turned to Scully. "Dana, you can't react like that. It's just
   going to make him hover and I don't think you could handle that now."
   
   "Are you serious?!" she asked incredulously. "How the hell do you
   expect me act?"
   
   "Look, Dana," Susan sighed. "I know this is a lot to take in at once,
   but we have a job to do."
   
   Scully stared at her, mouth open, her chest raising and falling
   rapidly. She blinked a few times, mentally shook herself and stood up
   straight.
   
   "You're right. I'm sorry," Scully said.
   
   "Good," Susan said. She smiled, looked at the closed door leading to
   Mulder's room then back to Scully. "Just try to act normal." She
   sighed. "I promised him I wouldn't say anything. Man, he's gonna kill
   me."
   
   Scully watched her pull the door open and leave. She jumped when
   Mulder knocked on the adjoining door and peeked inside.
   
   "Can I come in?"
   
   Scully put her hand on her brow, massaging her temples.
   
   "Yeah, Mulder. You can come in."
   
   Mulder pushed the door open and stepped inside. He was wearing black
   jeans, a gray T-shirt and a black leather jacket. His hands were
   stuffed in his pockets. He gave her a questioning look.
   
   Scully shook her head. She picked up her ID and gun from the
   nightstand, then moved to get her jacket.
   
   "Scully what are you doing?"
   
   She stopped in the middle of putting on her jacket and frowned. "I'm
   getting ready to go?"
   
   "No, you're not."
   
   "I'm not?"
   
   "You need rest. You are in no shape to go anywhere."
   
   "Mulder, I'm fine and I'm going," she said in a tone that left no room
   for argument.
   
   
   
   The Marriott
   
   Room 1130
   
   
   Susan had removed her sweats and was in the process of pulling on her
   jeans. She was struggling with the zipper. "Dammit!" She walked into
   Michael's room holding her sneakers. Michael was shrugging on his
   shoulder holster.
   
   "I can't zipper my jeans with my hand like this."
   
   Michael stopped what he was doing and gave her a strange look.
   
   "Don't say it."
   
   "Susan, there's something I didn't tell you."
   
   "Uh, Oh. Why do I suddenly feel that what you have to tell me has
   nothing to do with keeping my zipper down?"
   
   Michael smiled in spite of himself. "We can talk about keeping zippers
   down later. Right now I have something important to tell you."
   
   Susan sat on the bed. Her jeans gapped open revealing black lace.
   Michael was momentarily distracted. He put his hand out and indicated
   for her to stand. When she did, he knelt down.
   
   "When I was called into Melville yesterday, Williams had some news for
   me." He zipped her up and snapped the button. "Sit."
   
   She quietly complied.
   
   He took the sneakers and proceeded to slip one on. Tying the laces, he
   continued. "He wanted to tell me that he is taking an active part in
   this case." He put the other sneaker on. "And that you are no longer
   in charge." He finished and looked at her.
   
   "He pulled me off the case."
   
   Michael nodded.
   
   "Then why are you helping me get dressed?"
   
   He smiled. "Because I know that wouldn't keep you away from the crime
   scene."
   
   Susan reached out and cupped Michael's jaw with both hands. She leaned
   in close to him. "Damn right it won't," she murmured before she kissed
   him.
   
   Michael pulled away after a few moments. He licked his lips and stood.
   "Come on, let's get going."
   
   "Let me just go grab my hat and jacket," Susan said. She went in her
   room and returned wearing her FBI windbreaker and a tattered, old New
   York Mets hat.
   
   "I don't know why you still wear that thing," Michael said holding the
   door for her. "The Yankees, now there's a team."
   
   Susan walked past him. "Don't mess with my Mets or you can sleep with
   Ruffus when we get home."
   
   Michael laughed. "Yeah, but he sleeps with *us*."
   
   
   
   William Floyd Parkway
   
   Ridge, NY
   
   
   Enroute
   
   3:45 AM
   
   
   The car sped past the Brookhaven National Laboratory. Michael and
   Susan were in the first car with Mulder and Scully following in
   theirs.
   
   "Are they sure this is our guy?" Susan asked.
   
   "Rick said it matches our M.O."
   
   "But all the other murders took place in C.I. Ridge is about 15 miles
   east. I wonder why he decided to change towns," Susan said, thinking
   out loud.
   
   Michael didn't respond. He was too busy watching the road, making sure
   he didn't hit any deer. William Floyd Parkway is pitch black at night.
   
   "Maybe he's getting bored," Susan said.
   
   "Maybe."
   
   There were lights up the road. It looked like something out of a bad
   sci-fi movie. Complete darkness surrounded a ball of bright light.
   
   "That must be the crime scene," Michael said.
   
   "Is it me or does that look really weird?" Susan asked.
   
   Michael nodded. He pulled up next to a patrol car and cut the engine.
   They quickly exited.
   
   Mulder and Scully joined them as they passed under the crime scene
   tape.
   
   They headed directly for the body that was laying in a patch of wild
   flowers the town planted. It was a shame that such beauty was marred
   by the gruesome sight.
   
   "What have we got here?" Susan asked the young agent standing near the
   body.
   
   "ASAC Halloway," he sounded surprised to see her. "What are you doing
   here?"
   
   "Jim, just tell me what you've got."
   
   Jim looked behind Susan at Mulder and Scully. Michael was standing off
   to the side looking around. "It looks like the others, Ma'am," he said
   looking down at the body. "Stab wounds to the chest, strangulation by
   a rope."
   
   "Did he leave anything?" She asked, never once looking at the body.
   
   "Yes, ma'am." He reached down. "We found a knife and this." He held up
   a large object wrapped in plastic.
   
   Susan put her hands out and Jim gave it to her. At closer examination,
   she realized it was a crowbar. "Jesus Christ!"
   
   "Yes, Ma'am," Jim agreed, taking it back.
   
   Scully came up beside her, glancing at the offending tool. She shook
   her head grimly.
   
   Susan turned to the body. She couldn't be more than 25. "Do we have an
   ID?"
   
   "No Ma'am, not yet."
   
   All of a sudden there was commotion at the edge of the crime scene. A
   man's voice was yelling and he sound extremely pissed off. Susan
   groaned and rubbed her eyes.
   
   "HALLOWAY!!!" SAC Williams was marching in their direction.
   
   Susan shoved her injured hand in her pocket, clenching her teeth in
   pain. She pivoted on her heel and came face to face with a very angry
   Williams.
   
   "What the hell are you doing here!" he demanded. "I thought I told
   that partner of yours you were off this case!"
   
   A condescending smile appeared on Susan's lips. "You did sir, but I
   just wanted to hear it myself."
   
   The innocent tone seemed to make him more angry. "Fine, then, you
   heard it, now get the hell out of here!"
   
   "Sir, you have no right to remove me from this case!" Susan said
   taking a step toward him. The innocent act vanished.
   
   "As your superior, I have every right."
   
   "Just because I am not investigating this case the way you see fit
   does not give you cause!"
   
   "So, I should just let you go on your hunches?!" he shouted. "You are
   completely ignoring the evidence!"
   
   "Because the evidence is wrong!"
   
   "Where did you get that from? A feeling?"
   
   Susan silently counted to ten. "Sir, Townsend is not the man we are
   looking for! You are wasting your time!"
   
   "Halloway, I am not having this conversation with you again. I have
   taken over this investigation and am relieving you of duty."
   
   "You're suspending me?" Her voice betrayed her disbelief.
   
   "Damn right I am."
   
   "Under what grounds!?"
   
   "Under the grounds that you have forgotten how to investigate a crime
   and your unprofessional conduct with your partner!"
   
   "YOU SON OF BITCH!" Susan shouted. Her voice reached Michael and he
   started toward them.
   
   "My relationship with Agent O'Sullivan is not an issue here and you
   know it!"
   
   "Then I suggest you get your pretty little ass out of here before I
   make it an issue!" Williams countered. "Now be a good girl and do as
   you're told," he finished in a condescending tone.
   
   "You megalomaniacal bastard!" Susan reached for him, but Scully
   grabbed her arm. Susan pulled her arm free. Out of the corner of her
   eye she could see that Mulder was doing his best to keep Michael from
   Williams. Susan glanced at Scully who was clearly agitated, but doing
   her best to keep herself under control. Susan took a deep breath and
   returned her attention to Williams. Her voice was like ice. "If you
   continue this avenue of investigation, you are never going to catch
   this bastard and his victims' blood will be on your hands."
   
   "Agent Loper," Williams said to Jim. "Could you please make sure Agent
   Halloway finds her car?"
   
   Jim gulped and nodded.
   
   Susan leaned into Williams. "I just have one question, sir," she said
   softly. Williams tilted his chin up. "Whose dick did you have to suck
   to get promoted?"
   
   Williams' face turned red. Susan smiled sweetly at him and allowed Jim
   to take her arm and lead her away.
   
   "That's it, Halloway! You are suspended without pay!"
   
   Susan turned suddenly, causing Jim to lose his grip on her arm. "FUCK
   YOU!" She shouted loud enough for everyone at the scene to hear and
   stormed off. Scully quickly ran after her.
   
   Williams faced Michael who was now being hugged by Mulder in an
   attempt to keep him from killing the man. "O'Sullivan you are still on
   this case and I expect you to assist as I see fit."
   
   Michael stopped struggling with Mulder. He squared his shoulders. "Go
   to hell..., Sir," he growled and walked away. Williams watched him go.
   
   "And you!" he said to Mulder. "You're career is already in the toilet,
   I suggest you go back to Washington before you make things worse for
   yourself."
   
   Mulder looked at him. "Sir, you are not my superior and I have been
   threatened by men much bigger than you," Mulder said calmly. "Agent
   Scully and I have some vacation time saved up, so as the lady said,
   Fuck you!"
   
   Susan was almost at her car when an EMT knocked into her right arm.
   Her hand brushed against him, and she gasped.
   
   "Excuse me," he said looking at her for a moment then heading toward
   the body.
   
   Susan halted and spun around. Her face was ashen. Her heart was
   pounding and she couldn't catch her breath. Finally her body caught up
   with her brain and she started to run after him, but was stopped by
   Scully.
   
   "Susan, no!" she said quietly.
   
   "Dana, let me go! That's him!" she said, trying to get Scully to
   release her.
   
   "You can't go after him now, you have no proof."
   
   "I don't need proof, I know it's him!"
   
   "If you approach him now, Williams is not going to let you take him
   into custody, he'll go underground and we'll never find him," Scully
   said, sounding very much like the voice of reason.
   
   "What's going on?" Michael asked as he and Mulder caught up with them.
   
   "That's him!" Susan said.
   
   The men turned, scanning the crowd. "Who?"
   
   "That EMT!" Susan said, pointing toward the crowd around the body, but
   the man was no longer there. "Where the hell did he go?" She said
   breaking free from Scully and running in the direction she last saw
   him.
   
   Michael, Scully and Mulder quickly followed her, but Susan stopped
   suddenly.
   
   "He's gone," she said looking around frantically.
   
   "ASAC Halloway," Jim said, walking to her. "SAC Williams has
   instructed me to remove you from the crime scene or arrest you for
   interfering with a federal investigation," he said pleadingly.
   
   "Williams can go to hell!"
   
   "Ma'am, please don't make me arrest you!" Jim looked as if someone had
   just killed his dog.
   
   Susan stopped looking around and turned to him.
   
   "Come on, Susan," Michael said. "He's gone. We can work from your
   description."
   
   Susan reluctantly nodded. "OK, Jim," she said.
   
   "Thank you, Ma'am," he said sounding relieved. He looked around. "If
   you need anything, call me."
   
   Susan smiled, "Thank you, Jim." She patted his arm and walked to her
   car.
   
   
   
   
   Part 19
   
   
   Diner
   
   Mastic, William Floyd Parkway
   
   
   8:46 AM
   
   
   Susan eyed her plate of pancakes. Her stomach rolled with nausea and
   she pushed it away. She was not in the mood. She didn't want it in the
   first place, but Salvator, the owner, insisted she looked too thin.
   
   Susan had gone to high school with Salvator's son, Carlo and whenever
   she went to this diner, Salvator took it upon himself to fatten her
   up. He was a kind man in an overbearing, protective way.
   
   "Sal's not going to be happy when he comes back and your plate is not
   cleaned," Michael whispered in her ear.
   
   Susan smiled and shoved him playfully. He was trying to lighten her
   mood. She hadn't spoken more than two words since they arrived at the
   diner, about 2 hours ago, and it was making him uneasy. She wasn't one
   to keep quiet and her silence was a sure sign she was on edge.
   
   Susan knew how Michael was feeling, but didn't do anything about it.
   She hadn't slept in over 24 hours and she was feeling over sensitive.
   Mulder was getting frustrated from being on hold for the last half
   hour waiting for Skinner. Michael was waiting to hear from Jim, who
   was supposed to call him back with information about which fire and
   ambulance companies were dispatched to the crime scene, and was
   getting antsy. And Scully was just annoying the hell out of her. She
   was watching her constantly and when she wasn't, she kept trying to
   get Susan to take something for her hand, which now was throbbing
   incessantly. Combine all of this with her own frustration and she was
   *this* close to pulling out her gun and taking out the breakfast
   crowd.
   
   "Susan, *please* take something for your hand," Scully practically
   begged.
   
   Susan looked at her, but didn't raise her head. Mulder recognized that
   expression. It was Susan's `if you don't leave me alone, I'm going to
   rip off your arm and beat you with it' look. He had been on the
   receiving end of it more than he would like to remember.
   
   "Dana," Susan said slowly. "I have told you five times." She raised
   her hand, spreading her fingers. "That I do not like the way that
   medication makes me feel."
   
   "Then at least take some Tylenol or something."
   
   "Why are you so concerned about how my hand feels?" she snapped.
   
   "Because *MY* hand is killing me!!!" Scully raised her hand for
   emphasis.
   
   Susan slumped down in her seat. "Fine, I'll take some Tylenol," she
   mumbled.
   
   Scully smiled triumphantly while she reached in her briefcase for the
   Tylenol.
   
   Michael leaned in to Susan. "I'm going to have to remember that."
   
   Susan narrowed her eyes at him.
   
   "Guilt seems to really work with you," he said smiling seductively.
   
   Her eyes danced, but her face remained neutral.
   
   Michael concentrated on Susan's favorite sexual position as he rested
   his hand on her thigh. He knew that if this didn't bring her out of
   her funk, nothing would.
   
   Susan's back straightened and she closed her eyes. Scully suddenly
   felt very uncomfortable. Susan opened her eyes. Taking in Scully's
   flushed face, she swatted Michael's hand away. She looked across the
   table at Scully. Her hands were shaking as she gave Susan four
   Tylenol. Susan had to laugh.
   
   Michael was silently proud of himself. Susan smiled at him and shook
   her head.
   
   Mulder watched the exchange while he listened to chamber music on his
   cell phone. His thoughts were interrupted by Kimberly, Skinner's
   secretary.
   
   "Agent Mulder?"
   
   "Yeah, I'm here."
   
   "Assistant Director Skinner will speak to you now."
   
   Mulder heard a click, then Skinner's voice.
   
   "Agent Mulder."
   
   Mulder sat up in his chair. Susan was watching him.
   
   "Yes, Sir."
   
   "What can I do for you."
   
   "I would like to request that Agent Scully and I stay here in New
   York, I think we may have found an X-File."
   
   Scully frowned at him. Susan smiled.
   
   "What's it about?"
   
   "I don't really want to get into it on the phone, but while we were
   assisting ASAC Halloway on her case, Scully and I may have stumbled
   onto something." He wiggled his eyebrows at Scully. She rolled her
   eyes.
   
   "Did you say ASAC Halloway?"
   
   "Yes, Sir."
   
   "*Susan* Halloway?" Skinner asked.
   
   Mulder gave Susan a questioning look. She just shrugged her shoulders
   and leaned back. Michael put his arm on the seat behind her.
   
   "Yes, Sir. Do you know her?"
   
   "Yes, I did."
   
   "Did?"
   
   "Yes, but that doesn't matter. You and Agent Scully may stay in New
   York to pursue your case. I expect a full report on my desk when you
   return."
   
   "Thank you, Sir." Mulder pushed the `end' button and put his phone
   back in his pocket.
   
   Mulder looked at Susan. "You know Skinner?"
   
   Susan nodded. "I met him on one of my visits to Washington. I had
   dinner with him once."
   
   "Why didn't you ever tell me?" Mulder said, sounding betrayed.
   
   "Because there really isn't anything to tell. We went out once,
   nothing more."
   
   Mulder turned his head toward the window, clenching his jaw.
   
   Susan looked at Michael, then Scully, who both shrugged.
   
   "Mulder," she sighed. She put her hand over his. "Nothing happened."
   
   Mulder glanced down at her hand. He knew she was telling the truth,
   but didn't understand why it was bothering him so much. They weren't
   involved then and she was a beautiful woman. There had to be more men
   in Susan's life other than him and Michael.
   
   "He's a good man, Mulder. He's just stuck between a rock and a hard
   place."
   
   Mulder didn't answer.
   
   Susan squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry I never told you."
   
   Mulder could see her reflection in the window. There were dark circles
   under her eyes, her body language indicated how tired she was.
   
   He sighed and turned to her. He returned the pressure to her hand,
   trying to let her know he wasn't really upset.
   
   She smiled.
   
   Michael's phone rang, his hand shot out to answer it.
   
   "Yeah?" he said into the phone.
   
   "Agent O'Sullivan?"
   
   "Yes, Jim. What've you got?" Susan handed him a pen as he turned the
   placemat to the blank side. He wrote as he listened.
   
   "Thanks, Jim. You've really helped us out."
   
   Michael could hear the grin in Jim's voice as he answered and hung up.
   
   "OK, we've got three fire departments and two ambulance companies,"
   Michael said.
   
   "I'll take the ambulances, you guys divvy up the fire departments,"
   Susan said reaching for her phone.
   
   Everyone passed around the menu as they dialed. It looked like a table
   full of lawyers; they were all on the phone.
   
   Susan finished with her first call, finding nothing. She dialed the
   second number as Michael hung up and shook his head.
   
   "Shirley Ambulance Company, Rich speaking, can I help you?" He sounded
   friendly.
   
   Susan decided to use a different tactic. She pitched her voice a notch
   higher than her normal alto.
   
   "Hi. I hope you can help me," Susan said. "My name's Susie and I'm
   lookin' for somebody."
   
   Mulder hung up in defeat, watching Susan, the great manipulator.
   
   "Somebody in particular?" Rich asked flirtatiously.
   
   Susan giggled. Mulder put his hand over his mouth to suppress a laugh.
   He had never heard that sound come out of her before.
   
   "Yeah, but I don't know his name. You see, I was in an accident and
   this really nice guy helped me out. I just wanted to send `im flowers
   or somethin'."
   
   "Do you know what he looks like?" he asked, hoping it was him.
   
   Scully hung up. She joined the rest in watching Susan.
   
   "I only got a glimpse, and my memory is a little foggy, but I think he
   was tall?"
   
   "Could you be more specific? There are a lot of tall men here."
   
   "OK, he had short, light hair? Kinda thin and I think he wore
   glasses?"
   
   "Did he have a mustache?"
   
   "Yeah! Yeah he did!"
   
   "That's Rob."
   
   Susan moved her hand in the air, like she was writing. Michael picked
   up the pen.
   
   "Robert?" Susan asked excitedly.
   
   Mulder dialed his phone quickly. "Danny, could you help me find an
   address in Suffolk County, New York?" He paused. "First name
   Robert..."
   
   "Yeah, Robert Andrews," Rick said.
   
   "Robert Andrews?" Susan asked.
   
   "Last name Andrews," Mulder said. He indicated for her to stall while
   he waited for Danny to get back to him.
   
   "Are you sure? I really want to thank him for helpin' me out," Susan
   said.
   
   "Yeah, he's the only guy with a mustache in the place."
   
   Mulder listened. "There are four Robert Andrews' living in Suffolk
   County," he whispered.
   
   Susan nodded. Her heart was pounding adding a nice rhythm to her hand.
   
   "Hey, does he have a middle initial? I might want to send him a
   monogrammed somethin' or other."
   
   She could hear Rich asking someone in the background.
   
   "C. His middle name is Charles," Rick said.
   
   "Charles?"
   
   "Middle name Charles," Mulder said. He waited a second then nodded
   vigorously. He scribbled an address on the menu.
   
   "Thank you so much, Rich, you're a life saver!" Susan hung up and
   looked at Mulder.
   
   Mulder held up the menu. "Robert Charles Andrews," he said. "27 River
   Road, Mastic, New York."
   
   Susan snatched the menu from him as they all stood.
   
   "No more coffee?" Salvator said, coming over to the table.
   
   "No thanks, Sal," Susan said. "We've gotta go. Can I owe you this
   one?"
   
   Salvator waved his hands. "Don't worry about it little Susie, I know
   you're good for it."
   
   Mulder smirked.
   
   Susan kissed Salvator's cheek. He blushed.
   
   "Thanks," she said, then rushed out the door.
   
   
   
   Residence of Robert C. Andrews
   
   27 River Road
   
   Mastic, NY
   
   
   10:13 AM
   
   
   Susan took her hat off, finger combed her hair and tossed the hat in
   the car along with her FBI jacket. Mulder and Scully pulled up behind
   them.
   
   The neighborhood was quiet, since it was Monday morning. They parked
   across the street from Andrews' house, in front of a fenced off wooded
   area. It was a part of Southaven Park's campgrounds.
   
   Susan pulled her shirt out of the waistband of her jeans to cover her
   gun. Michael came up beside her. They took a deep breath and joined
   Mulder and Scully as they started across the street, looking like an
   eclectic group of Jehovah's Witnesses. Susan was wearing a white
   v-neck T-shirt and jeans, while Michael was in a dark suit, looking as
   if he could be going to a corporate meeting or a funeral, if there was
   a difference. Scully was wearing her normal black slacks, white shirt
   with a few of the top buttons open and a long dark blazer and Mulder
   was dressed in black jeans, gray T-shirt and a black leather jacket.
   They walked in sync up the drive.
   
   The house was run down. There were slats missing from the fence, no
   curtains in the front window, only a once white, gray blind that was
   hanging haphazardly. The gray paint was peeling from the shingles and
   the shutters were dangling, ready to fall. The yard was overgrown, in
   desperate need of the rusting lawnmower on the side of the house. It
   looked as though no one was home and hadn't been for a long time. It
   was an eyesore compared to the rest of the houses on the road.
   
   They continued up the walkway to the front door. Mulder knocked. Susan
   already knew no was going to answer. She tried to peer through the
   window, shading her eyes so that she could see more clearly. It didn't
   help, though. The window was too dirty to get a good view.
   
   Susan started around the side of the house to the gate. She pushed it
   open and looked around the backyard. Michael came up behind her.
   
   "We're trespassing," he stated.
   
   Susan looked up at him. "So?" she asked with a smile. "Like we haven't
   done this before."
   
   Mulder and Scully joined them as they entered the backyard.
   
   It was pretty much like the front yard. The grass was overgrown and
   dandelions grew unencumbered. The trees looked dark and foreboding.
   The yard was empty except for rusted lawn furniture and a broken down
   shed in the back.
   
   Scully walked purposefully down the path, while Mulder kept looking
   over his shoulder, as if he was expecting someone to jump them.
   
   Susan noticed his apprehension. "Mulder?" Susan stopped to look at
   him. "I guess it's been awhile since we've done this together."
   
   Mulder frowned, confused.
   
   "I would know if someone was around ready to kill us," Susan said
   sarcastically. "There's no one here, just relax." Susan looked at
   Scully. "You could learn something from Dana."
   
   Mulder looked over to Scully. She was trying to hide a smirk.
   
   "She only feels relaxed because you are," Mulder whined.
   
   "Hey!" Scully protested.
   
   Susan rolled her eyes and pulled open the shed door. She was
   momentarily overwhelmed by the smell of chemicals.
   
   "Whoa," Michael reared back.
   
   They entered the shed, the door closing behind them. Susan pulled a
   chain hanging from the ceiling, illuminating a bulb hanging above
   them. The light allowed them to see clearly.
   
   There were tables along the walls lined with strips of leather and
   hide. There was also various knives and cutting tools. Scully picked
   up a nasty looking hooked knife, examining it more closely.
   
   "Tanner," Susan said under her breath.
   
   "What?" Mulder asked.
   
   "He's a tanner," Susan said louder. "These are tanning tools."
   
   Michael crouched down to get a better look at some chemical barrels on
   the floor.
   
   "These are tanning chemicals," Michael said as he stood.
   
   "Is that what we smell?" Mulder asked. "I don't think I'll have to
   worry about my sinuses for a while."
   
   "No, these are still sealed," Michael said.
   
   Susan wandered toward the back of the shed where an old iron, claw
   footed tub covered with a tarp was sitting on the dirty wooden floor.
   
   Scully came up behind her as Susan lifted the tarp. They staggered
   backward when they were assaulted by an intense chemical smell.
   
   Susan regained her composure first. "Well, we can tell Williams to
   call off the manhunt," Susan said dryly.
   
   Michael and Mulder came up behind them.
   
   "Looks like we found Marcus Townsend."
   
   
   
   Part 20
   
   
   
   Marcus Townsend was fully submerged face up in the tub. He was tied
   with his arms behind his back, obviously dead.
   
   Mulder put his hand on Scully's shoulder and looked over her head.
   
   Scully stiffened, but didn't react otherwise.
   
   "How long has he been in there?" Mulder asked.
   
   Scully stepped forward causing Mulder's hand to fall. She pulled a
   latex glove out of her pocket and slipped it on.
   
   "It's hard to tell," she said as she poked Townsend's cheek. "The
   tanning chemicals have done a good job preserving him, but his skin
   has gone soft, rigor mortis hasn't set in, but it's been awhile." She
   turned to the group. "I can't be sure without an autopsy."
   
   "Well, we don't need to know the cause of death, I think that bullet
   wound on his forehead is enough," Susan said.
   
   "I don't understand. If he's dead, how are his finger prints on the
   murder weapons?" Scully asked.
   
   Susan took a deep breath. "I think we should check out the house."
   
   "What about Townsend? Shouldn't we call the police?" Scully asked.
   
   Susan shook her head. "The last thing we need right now is radio cars
   all over." Susan walked over to Michael who had opened the door to
   allow in some fresh air. "Besides, I don't think he's going anywhere."
   
   Scully reluctantly obliged and followed them out of the shed with
   Mulder silently following.
   
   Mulder pulled an automatic lock pick out of his pocket and opened the
   back door to the house. The hinges creaked slightly as Michael held
   the door for Susan and Scully.
   
   The back door led to a small kitchen. It was dark and had a coldness
   about it. A carton of orange juice sat forgotten on the light green
   Formica counter. The sink was filled with old crusty dinner dishes.
   
   "God, this guy's a pig," Mulder whispered as he passed the kitchen
   table. It's entire surface was covered in some kind of grease.
   
   "Yeah, makes you look like Martha Stewart," Scully said wryly.
   
   "Nobody touch anything," Susan said as she handed out latex gloves to
   Michael and Mulder. Scully had her own supply. "And Mulder, wipe off
   the door. I don't want anything disturbed."
   
   "Will you still be able to get a vibration with your hands covered?"
   Scully asked Susan.
   
   "I get it all over. And yes, I can still feel it through the gloves."
   
   The group moved to the living room. It, too, was dark and messy. A
   tattered sofa sat under the windowsill; a scratched coffee table in
   front of it.
   
   "I think we should split up," Susan said as she wandered down the
   hall.
   
   Scully glanced at Michael. "I'll stay with Susan," she whispered.
   
   He nodded and followed Mulder into another room.
   
   Susan ran her right hand along the wall as she walked. She stopped in
   front of a door and opened it. A darkened stairwell opened before her.
   
   "Basement," Scully stated from behind her.
   
   "Hmmm," Susan responded. She reached inside the darkness trying to
   find a light switch. She was rewarded after a moment with a harsh
   brightness.
   
   "This would be the part when the audience starts yelling at the
   actors, telling them not to go down into the basement," Susan
   remarked.
   
   "Yeah, but in the movies, the lights don't work," Scully replied.
   
   "Good point. I guess we don't have to worry about getting slashed by
   some guy in a ghost mask."
   
   "Better to be safe than sorry," Scully said as she drew her gun.
   
   Susan put her hand on the banister and started down the stairs.
   "There's no one down here," Susan said.
   
   Scully didn't respond as she descended.
   
   Susan stepped off the bottom stair. Her foot connected with the
   concrete floor and her knees gave out as she was overcome with images.
   She grabbed the end of the banister, trying to steady herself, but
   landed hard on her knees when Scully stumbled down the stairs,
   knocking into her. Susan put out her good hand, stopping her forward
   movement. She felt the roughness of the floor cut into her latex
   covered palm as Scully landed beside her.
   
   Scully remained motionless, her eyes screwed shut while Susan tried to
   gain control. Gruesome visions danced before their closed eyes as
   voices screamed in agony in the silence of the basement.
   
   Susan was breathing rapidly, groaning in agony, as she saw the latest
   victim struggling with her captor. He held her down as he sodomized
   her with a tool. When she lost consciousness, he masturbated in the
   corner, his eyes never leaving the woman.
   
   Susan gritted her teeth, drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes.
   The images vanished. Scully relaxed and sat up.
   
   Susan stood and helped Scully to her feet. Her face was covered in
   perspiration and she wobbled on unsteady legs. Susan kept her hand on
   Scully's arm, hoping to calm her. Scully closed her eyes briefly, she
   nodded when she felt like herself again and holstered her gun.
   
   The entire basement was empty, nothing indicating the horrors that
   took place down there.
   
   "He sure doesn't treat this room like the rest of the house," Susan
   said.
   
   "There's nothing in here."
   
   "Yeah there is," Susan said cryptically as she started back up the
   stairs. Scully watched her retreating form disappear into the hall.
   She shuddered and practically ran after her.
   
   "Where the hell have you guys been?" Mulder asked when Scully joined
   Susan at the top of the stairs.
   
   "We went down into the basement," Scully replied.
   
   "Well, we've been calling you two for the last five minutes," Mulder
   said with a bit of anger in his voice. "Why didn't you answer?"
   
   Scully and Susan exchanged glances.
   
   "We didn't hear you," Susan said.
   
   Mulder looked from Scully to Susan, "Come on, I think we found
   something." He turned and walked away expecting them to follow.
   
   Mulder led them into Robert Andrews' bedroom. Michael was standing by
   a dresser that was littered with small trinkets.
   
   "What do you make of this?" Michael asked as he handed a delicate
   looking bracelet to Susan.
   
   "It's Jennifer Rosenberg's," she said, putting it down.
   
   "And this?" He gave her a gold hoop earring.
   
   "Elaine Weisman."
   
   "This?" It was an ornate crucifix.
   
   "Joan Sorrentino," Susan sighed. "I think we get the point." As she
   put the crucifix back on the dresser, her hand made contact with the
   wood and she froze.
   
   "What is it?" Scully asked.
   
   Susan shook her head. She moved her hand back and forth on the
   surface. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Do you feel that?" she
   asked Scully.
   
   Scully nodded, but Susan wasn't looking at her.
   
   "What do you feel?" Michael asked.
   
   "I don't know," Susan said. She pulled open the top drawer of the
   dresser. Her breath hitched in her throat.
   
   Scully moved next to her so that she could see inside the drawer. She
   gasped. Scully reached in and pulled out a dark brown object. She held
   it up for the men to see.
   
   "It's a glove," Mulder stated.
   
   Scully shook her head. She slipped it over her latex covered hand.
   "It's Marcus Townsend."
   
   "What?" Mulder asked.
   
   Scully turned on the lamp on the dresser and put her hand near it. She
   pointed to the finger tip of her gloved hand.
   
   "This is Marcus Townsend."
   
   Mulder just looked at her, completely lost. Michael's mouth opened as
   he started to understand.
   
   "He worked Flight 800," Susan said to no one in particular.
   
   "Huh?" Mulder asked, still not understanding.
   
   "The plane exploded in the air," Susan explained, "And when they hit
   the water the impact was so strong that when the passengers were
   recovered, not all of the bodies were whole. We found many limbs not
   attached. The only way we could identify them was through
   fingerprinting."
   
   "But," Scully interrupted. "When a body has been submerged in water
   for a long period of time, the tissue swells, making fingerprinting
   impossible."
   
   "So," Susan continued. "The technician makes incisions around the
   wrist, and because the tissue is so bloated with water, the skin
   literally slides off the hand."
   
   "Then," Scully said, "He can slip the skin over his hand like a glove,
   and fingerprint it."
   
   Mulder felt a little dizzy, but suddenly his eyes widened in
   understanding. "This is Marcus Townsend's hand."
   
   Susan and Scully nodded.
   
   "Robert Andrews killed Marcus Townsend, submerged him in water, and
   pulled his skin from his hands and made gloves," Mulder said.
   
   Susan nodded. "Think about it. He's white, Townsend is black. Andrews
   is a tanner, so he cures the skin into leather in order to keep it
   from decomposing. It's the perfect cover." She paused. "While we're
   out looking for a black man, Andrews is hiding in plain sight watching
   all the confusion."
   
   "But he didn't anticipate you," Michael said.
   
   Susan smiled. "This is why I have been having such a hard time."
   
   "Townsend's skin was acting as a buffer between Andrews and the
   weapons, blocking you," Mulder added.
   
   Susan nodded.
   
   "But why didn't you pick up Townsend?" Scully asked.
   
   Susan shrugged. "Maybe it's the tanning chemicals. He changed the skin
   into leather, virtually removing all traces of Townsend."
   
   "We have to call Williams," Scully said.
   
   "No," Susan said strongly. "We are all officially off this case, we
   have no reason to be here. Me, especially. I don't feel like losing
   all the evidence because of an illegal search nor do I look forward to
   going to prison." Susan headed toward the doorway. "Let's watch the
   house and wait for Andrews to come home. We know he kills his victims
   here, so we have some time. We'll confront him when he returns and use
   the information we obtained today against him. Maybe we can get him to
   crack."
   
   "That's kind of weak," Michael said.
   
   "It's the best we have right now," Susan said as she opened the back
   door. "I can't call in any favors for a search warrant because we have
   no evidence and we're not on the case."
   
   As they approached their cars, Mulder turned to Susan. "Look, you guys
   go get some sleep. Scully and I'll take the first watch."
   
   Susan nodded. "OK, but we'll go get something for you two to eat
   first, then head out."
   
   Mulder got into the driver's side and tilted the seat back so he could
   recline a little and still see the house. Scully shifted and stared
   out the window.
   
   They sat in comfortable silence.
   
   About 20 minutes later, Michael and Susan pulled up next to Mulder and
   Scully's car. Susan handed Mulder a brown paper bag.
   
   "We're going to head home, it's about a thirty minutes from here. You
   have my number?" Susan asked.
   
   Mulder nodded.
   
   "Good, call me if anything happens. If not, we'll see you back here at
   six to relieve you." She rolled up her window and Michael drove away.
   
   Mulder looked into the bag and handed Scully a bottle of water, a
   turkey sandwich and a bag of pretzels.
   
   "How'd she know what I wanted to eat?"
   
   Mulder looked at her like she was an idiot.
   
   Scully smiled self-consciously. "Right. What did you get?"
   
   Mulder showed her a bottle of Snapple Iced Tea, Scully smiled, and a
   Reuben sandwich. He stopped before he brought the last item out.
   
   "She remembered."
   
   "What?"
   
   Mulder held up a large bag of Davis sunflower
   
   seeds.
   
   
   
   Part 21
   
   
   4:35 PM
   
   
   Mulder was sitting with his head back against the headrest, his mouth
   open slightly, sound asleep.
   
   There had been no movement at Robert Andrews' house and Scully was
   bored out of her mind. She glanced at Mulder and smiled. He was
   exhausted. A few sunflower shells were scattered across his chest and
   on his lap. Scully reached out to wipe the shells away and froze when
   he shifted, her hand grazing his. A strange sensation passed through
   her. She quickly pulled away and looked out the window. Her breathing
   had quickened. He was dreaming and it was interesting.
   
   Scully looked at him and slowly extended her hand again, carefully
   resting it on his. Feelings of arousal washed through her and she
   closed her eyes. She ran her tongue over her lips. Mulder let out a
   sigh and Scully groaned.
   
   Oh, shit, she said to herself, was that as loud as I thought that was?
   She slowly opened her eyes to find Mulder staring at her intently.
   
   She started to pull her hand away, but Mulder grabbed it before she
   could.
   
   "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a lot deeper than she was
   used to.
   
   Scully was having a hard time concentrating with her hand in Mulder's
   vice-like grip. She opened and closed her mouth a few times but
   nothing came out, her brain having lost the ability for speech.
   
   "I Uh, I Uh," she stuttered.
   
   "Are you doing what I think you're doing?"
   
   Scully tried to pull her hand away again, but Mulder held on tighter.
   
   "Is this why you freaked out when I hugged you?"
   
   Scully finally succeeded in getting her hand away from Mulder and
   moved closer to the door. The handle dug into her side.
   
   "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice wavering
   a bit. She straightened out her jacket, her hands shook slightly.
   
   "The hell you don't, you were reading me!"
   
   Scully wouldn't look at him.
   
   "Dammit, Scully! I've had it done to me enough times to know how it
   feels!"
   
   "Look, Mulder," Scully said, sounding a little stronger. "I'm sorry I
   invaded you. I had no right to do that."
   
   Mulder was having a good time watching her squirm. He sat up
   straighter and turned toward her. He leaned in and spoke into her ear.
   
   "So, find anything interesting?"
   
   Scully stiffened momentarily, but recovered quickly. "I don't know
   Mulder, I never knew you had such an affinity for the spin cycle of a
   washing machine before," she smiled sweetly at him.
   
   Mulder blushed, but refused to back down. "But did you notice who was
   sitting on top of that washing machine?"
   
   Now it was her turn to blush.
   
   Mulder decided to strike while she was distracted and grabbed her hand
   and placed it on the side of his face.
   
   "What do you feel now?"
   
   Scully's eyes fluttered closed and a soft moan escaped her.
   
   Mulder concentrated on all the times he tried to tell her how he felt.
   
   Without knowing it, Scully had turned toward him and placed her other
   hand on his face.
   
   Her hand ruffled his hair in the darkness of an underground garage.
   She squeezed his hand as he half listened to a guy talk about a lap
   dance. Mulder sat in helpless agony as he listened to her scream for
   him. His hands around Duane Barry's throat, wanting to kill him for
   taking her away. He sat crying on a hilltop watching a house burn to
   the ground, her cross in his hand. Mulder walked into her hospital
   room not able to look at her, afraid he would fall, overcome with
   relief from her return. He held her close as she cried, not looking at
   the monster named Pfaster. Trading his `sister' for Scully. Waking up
   to her brilliant smile, his pain fading. Hugging her in an elevator
   after his return from the dead. Secretly loving her jealousy over
   Bambi and Detective White. Feeling her hand squeeze his while he
   looked down at Robert Patrick Modell. Joking about having a peg leg.
   Telling her she is the only one he trusts while she pointed a gun at
   him. Wrapping her arms around his head as he rested his cheek against
   her stomach. Feeling his heart skip a beat when he saw the surprise on
   her face when he walked into the congressional hearing. Watching her
   walk into his office, her face and ego bruised. Not knowing if she did
   or didn't. His heart hitting the floor when she told him she had
   cancer. Holding her in a hospital hallway, kissing the top of her
   head, trying to be strong for her. Seeing her smile over a cupcake
   with a sparkler sticking out of it. Not knowing how to react when he
   saw himself leaning over her, inches from kissing her. Almost
   collapsing when he saw her laying in another hospital bed, knowing she
   might never leave it on her own. Crying at her bedside, her hand
   against his cheek. Feeling her around him, joking about raining
   sleeping bags. Dancing at a Cher concert. Seeing her holding her
   daughter, wishing she was his as well. Seeing a tuft of red hair
   sticking out of a body bag, not feeling guilty that he's happy it's
   someone else. Her cheek against his chest, Mulder not able to move as
   he looked around his flame-ruined office. Almost kissing her in his
   hallway, then almost losing her before his eyes. Telling her he loved
   her, then running his fingers over his bruised eye. Wanting very badly
   to dance with her at that high school reunion. Taking a peek at her
   body in the decontamination shower. Reaching for her in an ambulance.
   Telling her that she is his touchstone, his constant, then the feeling
   of her thumbs on his lips.
   
   Mulder and Scully were both breathing heavily when they finally opened
   their eyes. Scully had tears streaming down her face.
   
   "Oh, Mulder." Her voice was scratchy. She ran her hands down his face
   and mimicked the last vision. Mulder kissed her finger tips. Her hands
   stopped at the back of his neck.
   
   Mulder put his hands out and cupped her jaw as she leaned into him.
   
   Their lips met tentatively at first, then stronger as they became more
   sure of themselves. Mulder wound his hands through her hair, Scully
   shifted trying to get closer to him, but the seat counsel got in the
   way. Mulder tilted his head and gripped her tighter. She deepened the
   kiss, tasting him for the first time. He tasted remotely like
   sunflower seeds and something she couldn't quite decipher. She was
   quickly becoming addicted to that taste.
   
   Scully ran her hand down his back, clenching and unclenching his
   jacket.
   
   The only sounds in the car were sighs and the occasional moan.
   
   Mulder slid his hands down her side, his knuckles grazed the side of
   her breasts and she gasped, releasing his mouth. Mulder kissed her
   face, her neck. She gasped again when his teeth closed over her
   earlobe.
   
   Scully pulled his head back so that she could look at him. He smiled
   at her and kissed her forehead.
   
   "Every time I did that I was telling you I love you," he smiled again.
   
   Scully smiled and tilted his head down. Her lips met his forehead.
   
   She looked him in the eye. "Great minds think alike."
   
   Mulder laughed. He leaned into her.
   
   Suddenly the back door opened and Susan slipped in.
   
   Mulder and Scully jumped apart.
   
   Michael joined Susan in the back seat.
   
   Susan looked from Mulder to Scully, a ridiculously huge grin on her
   face.
   
   "Jeez, guys. Did you know the windows are all fogged up?"
   
   
   Part 22
   
   
   
   Susan patted Mulder's shoulder. "Good going, stud," she laughed again.
   
   Mulder and Scully hadn't reacted, they just stared out of the rapidly
   defrosting windshield.
   
   Michael wiped some steam off the window as a van pulled into Andrews'
   driveway. He waved his hand in Susan's direction, whacking her in the
   head.
   
   "Ow, Mike. What the hell's the matter with you?" She looked over at
   him then past him as Andrews got out of the van. He had a woman with
   him.
   
   "Shit!" She quickly got out of the car. The rest of them joined her.
   
   Andrews turned to the sound of car doors slamming and instantly
   recognized Susan from the crime scene. He took off.
   
   "Dammit!" Susan cursed and took off after him. Andrews hopped the
   fence and ran into the wooded camp grounds.
   
   Susan reached the fence, but couldn't get over it one handed. Michael
   came up behind her and boosted her over. She chased after Andrews, not
   waiting for the rest of them to join her.
   
   She could see him in the distance. He was crashing headlong through
   the brush. She pumped her legs harder, dodging trees and jumping over
   fallen logs. She pulled out her gun as she ran. Her heart pounded, her
   breathing raced, the adrenaline coursed through her veins. The thrill
   of the hunt was on.
   
   Michael and Mulder ran after her. She was way ahead of them in hot
   pursuit. Then they lost her completely.
   
   Scully stayed behind to attend to the shaken woman and to call the
   police.
   
   Susan lost sight of Andrews and quickened her pace. All of her energy
   was focused on running faster. Tunnel vision was creeping in.
   
   Suddenly Andrews stepped out from behind a tree. Susan saw him after
   it was too late. He stuck a log out. It contacted with the bridge of
   her nose and she went down, the back of her head hitting a tree on the
   way. Her gun flew from her hand, landing a few feet away in the brush.
   She hit the ground hard.
   
   Her vision swam before her eyes, but she could see Andrews searching
   the ground for her gun. She kicked her leg out, hitting him just
   behind his knee. He cried out.
   
   She tried to get up, but her head was pounding.
   
   Andrews turned, his face a mask of pure rage. He pulled his fist back
   and punched her in the ribs. He did it again.
   
   Susan drew her knees to her chest, trying to block the blows. She felt
   something snap and her breathing became labored.
   
   Andrews turned her onto her back. She tried to fight him, but the pain
   was too much.
   
   He straddled her, his weight pushing against her ribs. She fought him
   unsuccessfully. He wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed.
   
   Susan groped at his face, trying to inflict some kind of damage, but
   she was too weak. She felt a tearing in her hand and distantly
   realized she had ripped her stitches when her hands slipped off his
   face, it was wet with blood. Spots appeared before her eyes and she
   knew that she was losing consciousness.
   
   Scully was doubled over as the police arrived. She was having trouble
   breathing. The woman Andrews arrived with was leaning over her, trying
   to help.
   
   The officers ran up to Scully, thinking she was the one in trouble.
   
   "It's OK, miss," one officer said trying to soothe her.
   
   Scully shook her head, gasping for breath. She was frantically
   pointing towards the woods.
   
   "Woods," she gasped. "They. Went. Into. The. Woods."
   
   Scully fell to her knees.
   
   Susan was fading fast, tears running down her face. She started to
   lose her vision and tried again to get a grip on Andrews' face finally
   succeeding.
   
   She did the only thing she could think to do. She concentrated on the
   horrors she had seen in her career and directed them at him. His body
   stiffened as her hands clenched.
   
   He saw a bullet whizz through the air hitting a man in the chest.
   Andrews' body jerked. A golf club struck the side of someone's face.
   It came down again, and again. Andrews' head flailed back.
   
   His body shook uncontrollably as a woman was thrown to the ground, her
   attacker punching her repeatedly as she begged for forgiveness.
   
   Then he saw what he did to those women from their points of view. He
   cried out in pain as he saw himself brutally sodomize a woman with a
   crowbar. The rope tighten around her throat and he started to choke.
   It ripped into his skin as he stopped breathing.
   
   Susan kept her hands glued to his face as he struggled against the
   invisible bindings. Suddenly, all of his movements stopped and he
   collapsed on top of her. Her hands released him and dropped lifelessly
   to her sides.
   
   Scully was able to breath again when all feeling of Susan left her.
   
   "Oh my, God." She ripped her arm free of the man trying to help her
   stand and started towards the woods.
   
   "CALL AN AMBULANCE!!" She shouted as she clambered over the fence. She
   ran in Susan's direction, with two police officers following. Scully
   knew instinctively where she would be.
   
   Mulder and Michael reached Susan first. Michael threw Andrews off of
   her. He was limp and his face was bloody, as was Susan's coral blouse.
   The area around her eyes was swollen and she had the beginnings of
   bruising around her throat. He also noticed that the wound on her hand
   was bleeding freely.
   
   "SUSAN!" He yelled as he dropped down to his knees.
   
   She didn't respond, she was unconscious.
   
   He searched for a pulse and was greeted by the steady beating of her
   heart and warmth, but wasn't getting anything else from her. It was if
   he was touching a stranger.
   
   Their connection was gone.
   
   "Come on, Susie, talk to me here," Michael begged, his hands holding
   her face gently, trying to rouse her.
   
   Mulder finally was freed from his paralysis when Scully and the police
   came running up behind him. He turned toward her.
   
   "SUSAN!" Scully dropped down beside Michael, ignoring Mulder.
   
   The officers tended to Andrews.
   
   "She's unconscious," Michael said tensely.
   
   "I lost her," Scully said as she pulled the cloth belt from her coat
   and wrapped it around Susan's hand, trying to stop the bleeding.
   
   When Scully finished, Michael picked Susan up. She was limp in his
   arms, her head falling back. Michael hitched her up, so that her head
   was resting against his chest. Her right arm dangled, bouncing with
   his steps. He was almost running by the time he reached the fence.
   
   Mulder and Scully climbed over first, wanting to help Michael get
   Susan over if he needed it. Michael carefully moved Susan so that she
   was slung over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and started to climb
   the fence. When he reached the top, Mulder stepped forward, reaching
   for Susan. Michael hesitated momentarily, then reluctantly transferred
   Susan to Mulder. It was as if they were moving fragile crystal.
   
   Mulder turned slowly, holding Susan the same way Michael did and was
   instantly bombarded by paramedics. He carefully set her on a gurney as
   Michael jumped down next to him.
   
   The next few minutes went by in a blur of movement as they assessed
   Susan's condition and loaded her in an awaiting ambulance. Scully
   jumped in after her, barking out orders to the technicians. Michael
   put his foot up and started to join them but was stopped by a hand on
   his chest.
   
   "I'm sorry Sir, but there's no more room!" a man shouted to him.
   
   He looked as if he was going to throw the man out of the ambulance to
   make room, but was halted by Scully stepping forward.
   
   "You go, Mike," she said quietly. "Mulder and I will be right behind
   you." She gently laid her hand on his arm, then hopped out, not
   waiting for his response.
   
   He watched Mulder and Scully yell something to a cop, then run toward
   their car as the doors to the ambulance were closed.
   
   
   
   
   Brookhaven Memorial Hospital
   
   One Hour later
   
   
   They were moved to a private conference room across from the emergency
   wing because they were the center of a three ring circus called the
   press.
   
   Someone had leaked word to reporters that they found `The Long Island
   Slasher', and that an FBI agent was wounded. They swarmed into the
   hospital like a cloud of locusts.
   
   Michael sat with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands,
   looking down at the floor. Across from him, Mulder sat in the same
   position.
   
   Scully burst into the room, slamming the door quickly behind her,
   accidentally catching a reporter's hand on the way. Scully ignored the
   cry of pain from the other side of the door.
   
   Michael and Mulder stood, staring at her expectantly.
   
   "Andrews is dead," she said without preamble.
   
   "What!?" Michael shouted.
   
   "How?" Mulder asked.
   
   Scully looked at the two of them for a movement before she answered.
   "He flat-lined twice on the way over. They resuscitated him, but he
   crashed in the ER, and they couldn't revive him. They think he had an
   aneurysm, but they can't be sure without an autopsy."
   
   Mulder looked at her.
   
   She shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere."
   
   "Susan?" Michael asked timidly. He stood with his hands at his sides,
   looking so much smaller than he was.
   
   Scully shook her head again. "No word. All I know is that she is
   stable, but unconscious."
   
   Michael turned away from her, his arms crossed in front of him. He
   paced back and forth a few times with Scully and Mulder silently
   watching. He had removed his jacket, his gun resting securely on his
   hip. The sleeves of his shirt were folded up around his biceps,
   looking like the seams were about to burst. The shirt was drawn
   tightly across his back.
   
   "GOD Dammit!!" he shouted. He picked up a chair and flung it at the
   wall violently.
   
   "WHY THE HELL COULDN'T SHE HAVE WAITED FOR ME?!!" He asked no one in
   particular. He turned to Scully. "Why couldn't she have waited?" He
   had tears in his eyes.
   
   Their conversation was interrupted by the door opening behind them.
   
   "Is one of you Michael O'Sullivan?" asked a woman dressed in surgical
   scrubs.
   
   Michael crossed the room in three long strides.
   
   "That's me."
   
   "I'm Doctor Yellon." Michael shook her hand. "You're listed as her
   next of kin?"
   
   Michael nodded grimly. "Is she...?" He couldn't finish the question.
   
   "NO, no" she answered quickly. "But she's unconscious. She took quite
   a blow to the back of her head and it looks as though she has a
   concussion. She has a lot of swelling along the bridge of her nose,
   but nothing's broken. She will have two black eyes, though. She also
   has bruising around her throat and a few bruised and cracked ribs. We
   re-stitched her hand. She pulled out many of the internal stitches as
   well as the external. It was pretty bad."
   
   "How bad?" Michael asked, confused.
   
   "She tore a ligament and will need extensive physical therapy in order
   to regain full use of her hand again. She must have been in a great
   deal of pain."
   
   "She didn't tell me it was that bad," Michael said quietly.
   
   Mulder sat down heavily in the chair next to Scully. He ran his hand
   over his face.
   
   "The concussion may be why she is unconscious," Scully offered,
   stepping forward and laying a hand on Mulder's shoulder.
   
   "We don't think so. Her pupils are responsive and she reacts to pain."
   She paused. "We ran a preliminary EEG," Pausing again, not sure if she
   should address the rest to Scully or to Michael.
   
   "And?" Scully asked, knowing what she had to say next wasn't going to
   be something any of them wanted to hear.
   
   "Well," Dr. Yellon rubbed her brow. "It seems that only her autonomic
   systems are operating."
   
   Scully's mouth fell open.
   
   "What the hell does that mean?" Michael asked.
   
   "We can't be sure until we run more tests, but it means that she has
   no higher brain functions."
   
   Michael didn't physically react, but all the blood drained out of his
   face.
   
   "How is that possible?" Scully asked for him.
   
   Michael swayed slightly on his feet and Mulder got up quickly to help
   him sit down.
   
   "We don't know," she answered. "Has she ever had anything happen like
   this before? Has she ever had any neurological scans in the past?"
   
   "She had an episode when she was six where she was unconscious for
   five days, but she had tremendous brain activity," Michael said into
   his hands.
   
   "Nothing recent?"
   
   Michael shook his head.
   
   "Any recent neurological scans we could compare to?"
   
   Michael shook his head again.
   
   "Yes," Mulder answered.
   
   Michael and Scully looked at him.
   
   Mulder looked down. "They're not *that* recent, they were done about
   nine years ago."
   
   "Where they conducted because of a trauma?" Dr. Yellon asked.
   
   Mulder shook his head. "No, she was testing a hypothesis."
   
   Dr. Yellon looked confused. "What kind of hypothesis?"
   
   "It's not important, but I could get the file faxed over to us."
   
   Dr. Yellon nodded. "You can fax it to that machine over there," she
   said, pointing to the fax machine in the corner. "The number is
   631-555-2873."
   
   Mulder nodded and took out his cell phone.
   
   "I'll be back when I have more to tell you," Dr. Yellon said.
   
   "When can I see her?" Michael asked, standing to walk her to the door.
   
   She smiled. "Soon. I'll let you know." She walked out into the sea of
   reporters.
   
   "Frohike. Turn off the tape," Mulder said into his phone. "I need you
   to do me a favor." He paused, and looked at Scully. "Yeah, that was us
   on the news. Look, I need to you go to my apartment." He was quiet for
   a few moments.
   
   "I know, I know. But this is important. Good, I need you to look in my
   closet for a file. It's on the top shelf. The name on it is Elizabeth
   Harmon, it's kind of thick."
   
   Michael was watching him intently.
   
   "When you get it, I need you to fax everything in it to me at
   631-555-2873 right away. Thanks, Frohike, I owe you one," he said,
   then hung up.
   
   "What is this all about Mulder?" Scully asked.
   
   Mulder put his phone away, not looking at her. "Back when we were...,"
   he glanced at Michael. "I kept bugging her about trying to find the
   origins of her `gift'. She finally gave in and had some neurological
   tests done."
   
   Michael still didn't say anything.
   
   "Well?" Scully asked.
   
   "Nothing, they were inconclusive."
   
   Dr. Yellon came back into the room. "Mr. O'Sullivan?" Michael stood.
   "You can see her while we're waiting for her tests. As long as you
   don't get in the way, you can wait with her."
   
   Michael followed her to the door. He looked back at Mulder.
   
   "Tell her I said `Hi'," Mulder said.
   
   Michael nodded and walked out the door and was instantly surrounded by
   reporters. He ignored their questions as he pushed his way through the
   crowd.
   
   Dr. Yellon led him into the emergency wing and away from prying eyes.
   He followed her down the hall and into a small room.
   
   Susan was laying on a gurney in the middle of the room. She was
   wearing a hospital gown, her face turned away from him. He could see
   the purple marks on her throat. As he slowly approached, he watched
   her chest rise and fall. He reached out and touched her face, turning
   her towards him. He winced when he saw that her eyes were black and
   blue and swollen shut. He ran his hand down her cheek, tears welling
   up in his eyes when all he picked up was warmth. He never felt so
   alone.