Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters and situations created by
Chris Carter, the FOX Network and Ten Thirteen Productions.  As such, the
characters named are the property of those entities and are used without
permission, although no copyright infringements are intended.  The following
work is for the distribution and entertainment of fanfic members only.  Any
further distribution of this work without the author's consent is in
violation of international copyright laws.

Note: Takes place in early fourth season.  (No "Memento Mori" or "Leonard
Betts")

Classification: S, A   UST/MSR (somewhere in between), Mulder/Other in the
past

Rating: R (or a strong PG-13) (violence toward children, language, sexual
references)

Spoilers: Not really.

Dedication:  Macspooky saved this one from going into the trash.  She slapped
me around first, then gave me some much-needed help with all aspects of the
story.  Needless to say, I am very grateful.  Thanks also to Yvonne Richards,
a true friend who will tell me what isn't working, then ducks pretty good.

Summary: Mulder finds that his relationship to a victim of a serial killer is
closer than normal.


DAVID (1/7)
by Gerry Hill
(GHill52695@aol.com)

PROLOGUE
9:30 PM, Somewhere in the Northwest U.S.

The little boy ran on and on through the dark woods.  His small bare feet had
become numb with cold hours ago and he hardly felt the cutting fir cones and
occasional sharp rock.  His unclothed body shivered but he continued to run
on legs that felt like sticks about to snap in two.  He pulled air into his
laboring lungs with great effort.  His small chest hurt and he felt tears
welling up in his eyes.  He tried not to think of his mother or he really
would cry and then he would give up.

He could see a pair of lights off to his left and realized that he had come
upon a road.  He stood quaking and painfully sucking in the cold night air as
he stared at the approaching headlights.  The car finally drew close enough
for the driver to see the pathetic little figure at the edge of the pavement
and the brakes made a faint squealing sound as they were engaged.

The man who got out of the twenty-year-old Chevy looked like a lumberjack.
 He was huge and burly, wearing a flannel checked shirt, jeans and heavy work
boots.  As he neared the boy, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off, and
wrapped it around the unmoving child.  Despite his rough appearance, he was
gentle with the boy, crooning reassuring words to him as he carried him to
the warmth of the car.

For just a heartbeat in time he felt a vague unease that the authorities
might think that he could have been the one to hurt the boy.  The thought was
instantly banished from his mind; to not help this child would be
unthinkable.

As he drove toward town and the small hospital, he tried to find out the
kid's name, with no luck.  The poor little guy seemed to be in shock.

"Don't worry, son.  You'll be all right now.  My name is Dan Laudermann and I
promise you that you'll be safe with me."

When he looked down at the boy again, he saw that he had fallen asleep,
probably from exhaustion.  His dark lashes lay on pale cheeks where the
tracks of tears still glistened.  His full lower lip trembled with the
visions brought by his dreams.  The man's heart broke at the sight.  He
didn't even want to wonder at what might have happened to this child. This
big bear of a man had a kind heart, and to see this innocent little boy
suffering from God knew what torment....his foot pressed harder on the gas
pedal, anxious to get this small helpless creature to someone who would know
what to do for him.


Basement Office
FBI Building, Washington, D. C.
A Tuesday in November, 9:12 AM

It had been silent in Special Agent Fox Mulder's office ever since his
partner Dana Scully had arrived and settled down to read the file on the
newly-assigned case.  He had called her ten minutes ago to ask her to take a
look at it, and his voice had been more monotone than usual, as if to keep it
emotionless.  When she had walked into his office, she had seen the file
lying on the table next to the extra computer where she often typed up
reports.

Usually he would have had the file in his hands, going over the interesting
points verbally with her before handing the case to her for closer reading.
 Her personal favorite was when he cranked up the old slide projector, and
not for the first time she made a mental note to see about requisitioning a
newer model.  But today he was strangely quiet, sitting back in his chair in
the shadows.  He didn't even reply to her automatic "Hi."

The case was not an X-File; things on the paranormal front had been subdued
lately.  No, this was from Violent Crimes, involving a serial killer who
targeted children.  Scully had tried to bury her horror at seeing the crime
scene photos, but couldn't stop a gasp at the last one.

This boy was the only one to survive out of six other children.  What had
shocked her was the resemblance to her partner.  Those soulful hazel eyes
were overflowing with an eternity of pain and sorrow.  The full lower lip and
the facial structure all combined to strongly resemble what Mulder might have
looked like as a child.

Curious now, she checked the information on this victim.  David William
Chandler; age seven, mother Mary Louise Chandler; no father listed.  David
Chandler had apparently been kept a prisoner by the serial killer for several
days.  From the condition of his body, he had been bound by rope at wrists
and ankles during some of the time he had been missing.  He had suffered
various blows and cuts to his body.  Given the sexual nature of the attacks
on the other victims, the killer was likely to have similarly abused this
boy.  However, no evidence of rape or tearing and injury from such trauma had
been found.  David had not spoken once since he had been discovered wandering
naked on a rural road somewhere in the state of Washington.  His mother said
that he had been a talkative, friendly child prior to his abduction.

Scully closed the file and saw that Mulder had not moved from the shadows
behind his desk the entire time she had been in the office.  His desk lamp
was turned off, which made it difficult to read his expression.  She simply
waited for him to speak. 

After a few minutes his quiet and broken voice rasped, "She didn't tell me
there was a child."  His eyes closed tightly as if to shut out his thoughts.
 Scully jumped when his fist smashed against the surface of his desk.  "God!
 My *child*, Scully, and he's been in the hands of that monster!"  Leaning
now into the light, she saw that his eyes were haunted and his jaw muscles
were clenched.

Scully's brain was uncharacteristically slow to grasp the situation.  Then it
hit her that Mulder had fathered a child; a child he had not known existed
until this case was handed to him.  A child who had been brutalized by a
serial killer....

Her sympathy for the child was suddenly superceded by the very human pang of
jealousy that swept over her as she realized that some woman had meant that
much to her partner once.  Being Scully, however, she impatiently shoved the
feeling aside as inappropriate.  He needed her, but not that way.

"We leave on the 1:00 flight.  I'll pick you up at 11:15 or so.  Better go
home and pack."

Her mental paralysis broke and she firmly said, "Mulder, as I understand the
situation you're way too close personally to be investigating this case."

His eyes...oh, God, his eyes.  Scully closed hers for a moment, then said,
"All right.  But if any official discovers the connection, you know what kind
of trouble we'll be in."  

He got to his feet, walked like an old man to get his suit coat, and left
without a word.

On his way home he recognized how he was once again manipulating Scully, but
told himself he would make it up to her later.  He couldn't spare the guilt
right now.  Instead, his entire being was occupied with thoughts of the
little boy he should have known existed.  

When he picked Scully up at her apartment she had wanted to talk about the
situation, but he had rebuffed her conversational attempts in the car on the
way to the airport.  The flights were full both from Dulles to Chicago and
from there to Portland, Oregon, so they were not seated together on the
plane.  By the time they had picked up a rental car from the Portland airport
and had fought their way through all the construction at the place, she had
accepted the fact that he would speak about it in his own good time; forcing
the issue wouldn't gain her anything but animosity.

When he took the highway into Washington instead of Oregon, however, she
asked, "What are you doing, Mulder?  We have to see the Bureau's Special
Agent in Charge in Portland first."

"It can wait.  This last abduction broke the pattern; all the other victims
were found in the Portland area.  This one turned up ninety miles away, and
the victim is still alive.  I want to interview the child and talk with the
local sheriff."  He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes and added,
"And the biggest reason is that I'm pretty damned sure it's my kid and I'm
not wasting a second in going to him."

Scully thought about how many rules they were breaking on this case, and how
many more they were likely to break in the next few days, and sighed.  She
reached over and placed her hand on Mulder's, which was tightly gripping the
steering wheel.  "OK," was all she said, but he flashed her a look of
gratitude.  He knew that she often suffered for his blatant disregard of
proper procedure, but she still backed him up when it was important.

They were headed for a little town by the name of Willows.  After traveling
through miles of thick Douglas fir forests, the sudden enormous space that
opened around them was a pleasant relief  from the darkness of the trees.
 Then the road had suddenly dropped down into a small valley filled with the
lights of scattered homes and farms.   In the growing darkness they could
make out gently rolling hills leading into town.  They stopped at the Willows
Court Motel to check in and leave their baggage, then drove through the
downtown area looking for the Sheriff's office.

Not seeing it on the first pass-through, Mulder reversed their route and
finally spotted it.  A small brick-and-glass-front building next door to
"Jill's Five and Dime" evidently served as a post office on one end and a
Sheriff's office on the other.  They were able to park directly in front of
the entrance since most of the downtown businesses were closed for the night.

Mulder paused for a second at the glass door, needing the time to take a deep
breath and prepare himself mentally for what might come.  This didn't get
past Scully, and she wondered for the thirtieth time whether this had been a
huge mistake.  There was a reason that doctors didn't treat their own
families and that FBI agents didn't chase their kid's abductors.

The small office was empty, so Mulder slapped the button on the bell he found
at the end of the counter.  Nothing happened at first, and then they heard
the slam of a door somewhere from the back room.  A muttered, "Dammit"
reached their ears, and footsteps approached.

A very tall, slender man in a sheriff's khaki uniform came through the door
and walked to the counter.  He had black hair in a cut similar to Mulder's
but was taller by at least four inches.  Scully felt that his brown eyes
missed nothing as he looked them both over.

Then his boyish face lit up with a big grin as he said, "You've got to be
feds.  Suits, serious expressions, and you show up here after normal
hours..."

They produced ID for him, feeling for some reason as though they had been
caught doing something sneaky.

He extended his right hand toward them, saying, "I'm Matt Vernon and I'm glad
for any help you can give us on this case."

Mulder and Scully introduced themselves, wondering at this atypical response
to the FBI horning in on someone else's territory.  Normally they were barely
tolerated, and often were met with suspicion and hostility.

Sheriff Vernon led them back to a pleasant office with comfortable chairs, a
couple of desks and even a couple of paintings on the walls.  He offered
coffee, then got down to business.

"Paul Gregory of the Portland Office is running the FBI end of this.  I
haven't heard that you were coming by, and he's usually a stickler for
procedure."  His expression was noncommittal.

Scully spoke up.  "We're from headquarters in Washington, D. C.  We haven't
stopped by the Portland Office yet; they'll be expecting us in the morning.
 We wanted to check out this part of the case first."

The sheriff's eyes twinkled.  He could see that there were layers to this
story, and he was only getting the thin one on top.  That's OK; he was a
patient man.

"Where do you want to begin?"

Mulder quickly said, "We have the file on the case, so most of the facts are
known to us.  What I...we... would like to do first is to see and talk with
the surviving victim and his mother.  Do you know where we can reach them
tonight?"

"As a matter of fact, I do.  They're scheduled to meet with the therapist who
is trying to help David get over the trauma.  You probably know that he
hasn't spoken a word since he was found two days ago.  Let me see if I can
catch them before they get started.  The mother would need to give her
approval in any event."

He picked up the phone and spoke with someone for about five minutes.  Scully
noted the lack of an introduction and his casual manner of speaking with,
presumably, the mother.  After stating what he wanted, his conversion mostly
consisted of   "Yes," "No," and finally, "All right."

The Sheriff hung up and said, "It's only a couple of blocks away."  He got up
and led the way out of the office and down the shadowy sidewalk.  The street
lights cast their brightness into the night, but they were spaced far enough
apart that you had to watch your step when not in the circle of their glow.

Mulder had to force himself to keep from breaking into a run, anxious to see
this miracle who had been dropped into his life.  He let Scully carry on the
fascinating conversation with the sheriff about how their flight went and the
difference in weather between D. C. and Willows.

When the sheriff turned up a walkway toward a modern two-story office
building, Mulder was at the door first, holding it open for them.  They soon
reached a room near the end of a hall where just a low-wattage bulb burned in
a lamp.  The far side of the room consisted of a one-way mirror, and Mulder
found himself lost in what was occurring beyond this barrier, in the next
room.

Mulder located the therapist with no trouble, seeing a middle-aged woman of
unremarkable appearance leaning against a desk.  His attention then turned to
the younger woman who was sitting cross-legged on the thick carpet.  For a
long moment he stared at her, noting that she hadn't changed much at all in
eight years.  Then his focus switched to his primary objective: His son.

The agent's heart seemed to skip a beat as he absorbed the sight of the
little boy standing in the middle of the room.  Mulder knew then beyond any
doubt that the child was his.  It was in the child's posture, his face, his
body.  In a convulsive movement, his hands tightened on the wooden rail that
ran under the window as he tried to pay attention to what was being said.

"We promise you'll be safe, David," the therapist was telling her passive
patient.  "Your mom will be with you all the time, and Sheriff Vernon said
that he would keep a close eye out on your house to make sure that no one
bothers you."

There was no response from the child.  He kept gazing at a point somewhere
far beyond the room's walls.  Mulder noticed that several times his thumb
would creep toward his mouth, but David would jerk it back down by his side
before it got very far.  He wondered if someone had admonished him about "big
boys don't suck their thumbs."  Poor little kid was aching for comfort and
the feeling of security, which had been ripped away from him, maybe
permanently.

On an impulse Mulder abruptly walked out into the corridor to the next door
and entered the room he had just been viewing.  Scully and Sheriff Vernon
didn't even have time to react.  "Dammit, Mulder.  What are you doing!?"
Scully whispered to the image of her partner standing a few feet away from
David.

The therapist looked startled, but the mother was speechless, almost in shock
at seeing Mulder suddenly appear.  Obviously the sheriff hadn't told her the
names of the FBI agents when he had called her.  Their eyes held each other's
for what seemed a lifetime, then Mulder had turned his full attention to
David.

Squatting down to bring himself closer to the child's level, Mulder said,
"David, I'm Fox Mulder.  I want to help you.  I know that you're scared.  I'm
a friend of your mother's so you don't have to be afraid of me."  He made no
move toward David but his compassionate gaze remained on the boy.  He noticed
the stiffened posture and hoped he wasn't making things worse.

Mary Chandler, somewhat recovered from her initial shock, was telling the
therapist in a low voice that Mulder was an FBI agent but also a psychologist
and it was all right for him to talk with David.  She wondered how the
therapist could miss the resemblance between the two.  David had obviously
taken after his father far more than his mother.

Mulder ventured, "I've been scared like you.  A very bad person was going to
hurt me but my friend got me away in time to save my life.  It took a long
time for me to get over the nightmares."

There was a flicker in the boy's eyes at that and Mulder felt pity to think
that this little kid was apparently suffering from nightmares.  No rest for
him asleep or awake.

"It helps if you have someone to love and protect you.  Your mom does that,
and you'll begin to feel better about things after awhile.  You'll see."  He
gave him as encouraging a smile as he could muster, biting back the rage he
felt at the mental and physical damage inflicted on this child.  But most of
all, Fox Mulder wanted nothing more than to gather this precious, hurting
child into his arms and give him the comfort he sought.  His training told
him that such an action could damage the child even more.  Mulder knew he
couldn't hold the boy now, and perhaps that could never happen.  He fought to
control his emotions and was outwardly successful, he believed.

But Scully saw through the facade and knew where Mulder must be emotionally.
 Knowing this, she was touched by his gentle manner with David and how he
kept a professional demeanor through what must be the most gut-wrenching
moments of his life.

Suddenly the boy looked full into Mulder's eyes and the hardened law officer
felt his heart melt.  He could see the curiosity there, as well as the pain
and confusion.  Then David turned and ran to his mother, throwing his arms
around the familiar refuge and burying his face into her shoulder.

Mulder stood up and took a deep breath.  "Ms Chandler, my partner Dana Scully
and I would like to come by your house in the morning to ask some questions
relating to this case.  We're staying at the Willows Court Motel during the
investigation.  Here's my card, which contains my cel phone number.  Please
call me if you have any new information or need to ask us a question."

He handed her his card and their fingers brushed together as he pulled his
hand away.  He lowered his eyes, turned, and walked out the door.

Scully and the sheriff were already in the hallway when he emerged, and he
interpreted his partner's penetrating glance as, "We need to talk, but not
while there are people around - it won't be pretty."  But for once he misread
her look, since she felt nothing but compassion for him.

Sheriff Vernon led the way out of the building and accompanied them toward
their car, trying to figure out what had just happened.  He was a smart man
and could see the strong resemblance between Mulder and the kid.  Matt Vernon
intended to ask Mary Chandler to marry him, and no matter what the
relationship and history were between this federal agent and the woman he
loved, he intended to have his way.  Things could become quite interesting.

He asked, "Why don't I pick you two up at your motel at 8:00 tomorrow
morning, we can have some breakfast, have that talk with the Chandlers, then
I'll drive you out to the site where David was found wandering around?"

Mulder shook his head and replied, "No, that's OK.  I want to talk with the
Chandlers on my own first.  We could meet you at your office around 10:00 to
go see that rural site."  The agent eyes slid in the sheriff's direction to
see how he took the dismissal, and was surprised to see an ironic smile on
his face.

"What about you, Agent Scully?" Sheriff Vernon asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Agent Mulder said he was going to the Chandlers first thing; can I buy
*you* breakfast?"

They had reached the car and an embarrassed pause ensued.  Scully was unsure
whether Mulder had meant to exclude her or not, and didn't want to call
attention to the situation by asking in front of this very interested third
party.

Mulder spoke up.  "Scully, that's a good idea.  We both don't have to see the
Chandlers.  Why don't you take the Sheriff up on his offer and then stop by
for me when you're done?"

Sheriff Vernon said, "Fine.  I'll see you in the morning, then."  He walked
down to his own car, gave them a wave, and drove off.

The two partners eyed each other over the roof of the car.  Mulder tried for
distraction.  "He seemed eager about having you to himself, Scully."

She wasn't about to be side-tracked, however, giving him a look as she got
into the car.  He followed suit and turned on the ignition.  As he reached
for the seat belt she began, "Mulder..."

"Scully," he interrupted.  "I don't want to hear it."

Startled, she looked at him and said, "I beg your pardon?"

"All the bullcrap about proper procedures and regulations; you know - your
standard 'bad boy' speech."

Scully's mouth dropped open in hurt and astonishment as much at what he had
said as how he had said it.  In a tight voice she replied, "I didn't deserve
that, you son-of-a-bitch.  I was going to say that David seems to be a
remarkable child and I hope that he comes through this without too much
emotional scarring."

Mulder had the decency to look contrite and try to apologize.  "I'm dealing
with a lot here, Scully, and I'm sorry if I'm unloading some of it onto you."

She felt that she was always the one to back down, but saw no other option
under the
circumstances.  Saying, "I understand, Mulder," but not feeling it, she
viciously snapped her seat belt into place.

Once again, he recognized that he was deliberately avoiding the situation,
refusing to deal with it now, although he could still see the hurt in her
eyes.  Coward.

Changing the subject, she asked, "Do you want to grab a burger at that place
near our motel and eat in our rooms?  It's getting late."

He said, "Sure," relieved that she had let the moment pass.

They bought the food and returned to her room to eat it.  They discussed the
serial killer case for awhile, then Mulder wearily leaned his head back
against the wall, tipping the chair slightly onto its rear legs.  Scully was
stretched out on the bed, getting drowsy.

"Scully, I haven't told you about Mary Chandler yet."

"That's OK, Mulder.  You don't have to tell me about something that
personal."

"Yeah, I do.  She was a Special Agent out of the Seattle office when I was
sent there on a case."

Scully opened her eyes and said, "She worked for the Bureau?!"

"Yeah, in the VCS.  She was getting pretty good as an investigator, but
profiling was never her strength.  We worked together a lot on the case I had
been assigned - well into the night most of the time.  Not to make excuses
for myself, but she was very aggressive sexually and it wasn't long before we
were together *all* of the time.  I felt that I was able to separate that
from the job, at least for awhile, but it began to be quite a distraction.
 Finally we both decided to call it off.  The case was finally resolved, too,
but I was in the Seattle office for over two months, all told.  This was in
1989.  I guess Mary got pregnant and decided not to tell me."

He sat forward and opened his eyes.  "She said she was taking birth control
pills.  I need to ask her if she lied about that and used me to...fulfill a
need."  He turned his dark eyes to hers and despairingly asked in a whisper,
"Scully, what am I going to do?"

"You'll see how you can help them and then do whatever is appropriate for
everyone concerned.   Wait and see what happens in the morning.  You're tired
and things may be clearer to you then."

Mulder nodded and got to his feet.  "Goodnight, and thanks."  She knew he was
thanking her for a lot more than her poor advice, and gave him a smile in
return.  The door closed behind him and she lay on her back with a sigh and
wondered if this case was that one that would deal a death-blow to their
partnership.

(Continued in Part 2)


DAVID    (2/7)
By Gerry Hill
(GHill52695@aol.com)

8:01 am, Wednesday
Willows Court Motel

Dressed in her burgundy suit with the short skirt, Scully was considering
changing to a pants suit instead.  She couldn't think what had possessed her
to bring this outfit, knowing the weather would be bitingly cold.  At least
she had her heavy long wool coat to wear.  She wouldn't have had time to
change anyway, since someone was knocking on the door.

Sheriff Vernon stood towering over her when she pulled the door open.  "Good
morning," he happily greeted her.

"Good morning.  Let me get my coat and briefcase."

She grabbed her coat from the chair where it had been tossed a few moments
earlier, and as she sought the armhole with her hand, she felt the garment
being held in position for her.  Used to doing everything herself, it was a
pleasant surprise.

She smiled up at him, shrugged into the coat and scooped up her briefcase on
the way out.

As they exited the motel Scully noticed that the rental was gone.  Mulder had
already left to see the Chandlers, then.  She thought it likely that he
hadn't slept much the previous night and had shown up at their door at an
ungodly hour.

She was right on both counts.  He had managed to get nearly four hours of
sleep off and on, which was about average for him, anyway.   He had left for
his appointment at six o'clock - unable to wait any longer - and then sat in
the car outside their house until he was sure they had been up for at least
half an hour.  He had seen Mary come out of the house in her huge fluffy
white robe at six forty-five to get the newspaper from the walkway.  When the
cat was let out at seven twenty, he decided to get on with it.

He was a little stiff as he walked up to their door.  It had gotten very cold
in the car but he hadn't bothered to turn the engine on so he could run the
heater.  As he rapped his knuckles against the wood, he felt something touch
his leg.  Startled, he looked down to see that their cat was apparently ready
to get back in out of the cold and was sitting trustingly next to his foot,
seemingly comfortable in his presence.  He wryly thought, you and Scully;
that makes two, when the door was opened.

Mary's eyes widened, but she gave no other sign of surprise.  She had gotten
dressed and now wore old jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt.   She stepped back
to give him permission to enter, which he quickly did so that she could get
the door shut on the chill gust of air he suddenly felt on the back of his
neck.

"Hi," she said softly.  "Come on back to the kitchen and I'll get you some
coffee."

"Okay," he said, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.  On the
way, he took his coat off and dropped it into an overstuffed chair in the
living room.

He had detected a slight nervousness in her voice and in the way she clasped
one hand with the other; remembering that gesture from when she had said they
were through, eight years ago.

Mulder shoved his memories down as he followed her into the pleasant kitchen.
 The sun was finally coming up and her window over the sink was admitting the
first rays.  They sat down with coffee cups at the kitchen table with the
soft morning light the only illumination.

"David is still asleep but he never stays in bed much later than 7:30.  He'll
be down in a few minutes for his cereal."  She gestured toward the waiting
bowl, a small glass of orange juice by its side.

Mulder surprised both of them by reaching out and brushing his palm along her
cheek.  Her warm brown eyes were caught by his intense hazel gaze.

"You're more beautiful now than ever," he said wonderingly.

She broke the spell by saying, "Well, you haven't exactly grown warts
yourself, *Agent* Mulder.  She pushed her chair back a few inches and gave
him a lopsided smile.

"Why?" was all he could ask in a broken voice, but she knew what he was
asking.

"I wanted a child.  You specifically said you wouldn't consider such a thing
at that point in your life.  So I stopped taking the pill, waited until I was
pregnant, and left to have my baby."

The anguish was clear in his face.  "Didn't you ever love me at all?"

She took a deep breath and said, "I loved you, but I was never 'in love' with
you.  Still, when I left I felt like part of myself was being ripped away.
 None of it was easy for me."

There was a sound behind Mulder's back and he turned to see David standing in
the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes.  His pajamas drooped on his thin
child's body.  When he focused on the kitchen and realized that a man was
sitting at the table, he looked as though he wasn't sure whether to flee or
go to his mother.

Mulder gave him his best smile and said, "You remember me, don't you, David?
 I talked with you last night.  My name is Fox Mulder."

Since the boy hadn't run screaming in terror yet, Mulder slowly turned his
chair to face the child.  He decided on honesty, at least up to a point.

"I'm an FBI agent and was sent here to investigate your case.  I need to talk
with you and your mom.  If I find out more about what happened, maybe we can
catch the bad guy."

All the time he was talking, Mulder was aching to pick David up and hold him
but knew it would only scare the boy to death.  He wondered if this constant
urge to hold the child was for David's benefit, or for his own comfort.
 Probably both.

David was still deciding whether flight would be in his best interest,
looking up at Mulder from between his lashes, worrying his lower lip with his
small white baby teeth.  His mom broke the spell when she got up and said,
"Eat your cereal, David," and poured milk into his bowl.

This safe and familiar routine seemed to do the trick, as David calmly walked
into the kitchen, around the table, and sat down.  While walking past Mulder,
however, he kept a close eye on him, ready to run at the slightest twitch
from the man.

Mulder had to make an effort to keep from staring at the...*his*...child.  He
was beautiful, and he found it difficult to comprehend that this woman and he
had created such a wonderful being.  The reality of it all punched him in the
stomach suddenly and he had to get up and retreat to the living room to
regain his composure.

He had recovered some control when he heard Mary walking toward him.  He
turned and asked, "Will you sit down with me and just talk?"

"Sure."  She hesitated, then took his trembling hand and led him to the sofa
on the far side of the living room, where even David's sharp ears couldn't
pick up on what would be said.

Looking into her face, all they had been to each other came back to him in a
flood.  The feelings washed over him and he felt an abyss open up in his
heart at what could have been.

Finally, in a quiet tone, she said, "I'm so sorry.  You were never meant to
know."

Her monumentally self-centered statement was like a slap in the face.

"You don't even know what you've done to me," he said in wonderment.  He was
biting his lip, not realizing how much it looked like David's earlier
actions.

She tried again, maintaining the calm tone with an effort.  "All right, I'll
tell you everything.  Just let me talk and get it all out."  At his nod, she
continued, "This will just be the brief version.  I had been in law school at
the University of Washington in Seattle when the FBI recruited me, and I took
to the training with a vengeance, determined to prove to myself that my
father could have been proud of me.  He was a Seattle cop who was killed
trying to stop a drug sale.  Anyway, I got through Quantico, but along about
the time you showed up on that case, I had come to see that I had probably
made the wrong career choice.  I had worked out a plan; I didn't want to
marry, but I did want a baby.  So I would pick the right guy, make a baby, go
back to law school for the six months or so I needed to finish the degree,
and then get an intern position with a Seattle law firm for a few years.
 Then my plan was to move to this little town and set up my own practice.  I
had already picked the guy - a big blonde hunk in the Bureau's Seattle lab.
 He was definitely interested in me, and then the day we were going to go on
our first date, you showed up.  It didn't take long to dump the hunk; you
were who I wanted."

Mulder blinked at that.

"Not wasting any time, that night I arranged to trade with Craig Bennett and
take that stakeout with you, intending to seduce you afterwards."

He couldn't resist blurting, "Afterwards!?  You were all over me long before
our shift replacement was due."

She smiled, remembering, and said, "Yeah."

"Anyway," she continued, "We were pretty good together and I almost
considered abandoning the plan, but I knew you weren't ready to make any
commitments, especially one concerning having a baby.  You told me that
yourself.  You would soon be returning to D. C. and there was no way I wanted
to wind up in that madhouse."  She shrugged.  "So I stuck to the plan."

"You're a lawyer here in Willows?"

"Yes.  I've got a small office at the other end of town and love the job.
 But most of all I love my son.  Overall, I believe that I've made the right
choices.  Except for hurting you.  And for hurting David, if you tell him who
you are."

Her face reflected the worry she was feeling as they sat staring at each
other.

"Mom?"  The child's voice held an unsure, questioning note.

Her head whipped around to see David walking into the room.  She couldn't
believe that she had heard him speak.

"David," she said, and held her arms out to him.  "Come here, son."

He cautiously moved toward his mother, aiming for the side opposite Mulder.
 He sat next to her, snuggling into her side.  He mumbled something and Mary
asked him to say it again, only louder.

"Is his name really 'Fox'?"

Mulder heard the question and had to smile.

Mary chuckled, and said, "Yes, that's really his name.  But he doesn't like
to be called that and prefers 'Mulder.'"

David's incredulous face appeared from where he had hidden it in her side and
asked, "But it's his *name*.  Don't you have to use your name, 'cause why
have it, then?"

"Good question.  It's what his parents named him and when he got a little
older, he decided that he didn't care for it.  That happens sometimes."

It was clear that David was thinking that possibility over in his head.

Mulder saw that Mary's eyes had tears in them, he supposed from the
suddenness of David's restored ability to speak.  It had certainly been
possible that he might have withdrawn so far into himself that he never would
have spoken a word again.  Reluctantly succumbing to the knowledge that he
needed to work on the case, he decided to take the opportunity to see if
David would tell him anything, now that he felt relatively safe in his own
home, in the arms of his mother.

Reaching deep within himself for the professionalism he would require to make
his child re-live the worst experience of his young life, he asked, "David,
do you think you could answer a few questions for me?"

Mary's reaction was more intense than the boy's, he noticed.  Her body
stiffened and she gave him a severe look, shaking her head.  But David gazed
thoughtfully at the floor, finally giving a slight nod.

"OK.  Could you tell me what the man looked like?"

"Um...big."

"Was he as tall as I am?" Mulder asked, standing up.

David looked up at him then also got to his feet.  He looked at Mulder's
knees, then his eyes traveled upward to stop at his head.  "I think more
taller.  And bigger this way," he said, holding his arms out to his side.
 "But not fat big.  Big, big."

"Either I or my partner will bring some pictures from the Sheriff for you to
see, and maybe you could show us how his face looked.  Now, can you tell me
what happened when he took you from the car in Portland?"

David sat back down next to his mother, snuggling as close as he could get
without climbing into her lap.  He said something, but it was too muffled to
make out.

"What did you say?  I couldn't hear you," Mulder said in a gentle tone.

"I said he hit my face and said not to make a sound boy or I'll kill you and
your mom and then he drove for a long time and then locked me in a room."

Mary gasped and hugged him, then brushed a lock of dark hair from his
forehead.  "You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready yet."

David squirmed until she quit fussing over him and said, "But he might get
away if I don't help to catch him."

Mulder began, "You're right..." but had to clear his throat and begin again.
 "You're right, David.  But you can give it a little time if this makes you
too uncomfortable."

Mulder felt so proud of his son when he shook his head and began again to
tell them about his horrendous experience.

"We were in the country.  He left me all night, no dinner, and I got so
thirsty.  But the room was empty not even a chair in it.  Finally after it
was daytime again he came to let me out, and he made me take all my clothes
off.  Then he tied a rope around my, um, hands."

"You mean wrists?" Mulder closed his eyes for a moment, seemingly in pain.

"Yeah. He told me to go to the bathroom before he would let me have any food
or water.  But I couldn't go.  He got mad and said I was a stupid fuck.  He
hit me and I don't remember anything until I woke up again."

Mary was clearly having a hard time with this, but managed to keep quiet and
let David talk.

"Do you remember what happened then?"

"My head hurt."  David frowned, remembering, and added, "The rope was tied
around my feet now, too, and to some pipes in the wall.  The man was gone."

There was thick silence for a full minute, then David continued, "I was still
thirsty.  I tried to get the rope undone but it was too tight.  Then I heard
the man coming back.  I cried and he got mad at me and called me a baby."
 David looked up at his mother and said, "I'm sorry I cried.  I'm not a baby
anymore, am I, mom?"

Swallowing, she could only shake her head no and give him a hug of
encouragement.

The part of Mulder that was a psychologist murmured, "David, anyone would
have been scared, even grown-ups.  Crying doesn't mean you're a baby.  I
think you are a very brave kid, actually."

David sat up straighter and went on with his story, although Mulder noticed a
pinched look to his expression, and a more rapid pattern of speech.  He
didn't know how much longer he should let the child relate these tormented
memories.

"He grabbed me - he grabbed my arm hard and it hurt and he kissed it to make
it better, and it was so gross!  He...he felt me...touched me...all over."
 David paused, his eyes filled with the remembered horrors.  Before Mulder or
Mary could say anything, however, he continued.  "I tried to get away from
him and asked for a drink.  And then he held the can while I drank some soda
pop.  It was so good and I was so thirsty.  I had to go to the bathroom then
but he said there was no bathroom - Just go right there.  But I couldn't.
 Not like our puppy used to do!"

The boy looked indignantly at Mulder, silently seeking his agreement that
this was a behavior unbecoming to a human being.  The agent nodded, not
trusting himself to speak.

"A little later he untied me and took me outside and said so go on a tree if
you have to pee so bad, then we can play some games.  He started to go at
another tree, and I took off running as fast as I could.  It got dark but I
kept running and running..."  The shaky, rasping intake of breath was enough
to tell Mulder that the child had done enough reminiscing.

"That's great, David.  This will help us a lot.  One more thing, though.  Do
you know what kind of car the man drove?"

David looked up at Mary saying, "Like Mrs. Haley, mom.  Only blue."

Mary looked at Mulder and said, "She drives an old white Volvo wagon.  Her
house is two doors south of us, so you could see it when you leave."

Mulder walked over to the sofa, holding his hand out.  Mary placed hers on
his palm and said, "I'm not sorry for meeting you all those years ago and for
what happened.  I'm only sorry for the hurt you had to feel."

He tightened his grip and said, "Is there any chance...?"

"No," she abruptly said, cutting off what she knew he was going to ask.  She
stood up and leaned toward his ear, whispering, "I'm seeing someone and I
love him very much.  I'm hoping that he pops the question soon."

His thoughts were interrupted by an insistent little touch on his arm.  David
was poking him, trying to get his attention.

Mulder went down on one knee and asked, "What is it, David?"  He was so close
that he could see the gold flecks in the hazel depths of the boy's eyes, not
realizing that his looked identical at that moment.

"I remembered...in the car...the man talked with someone on the phone.  He
was mad."

"They were arguing?"

"Yeah.  He used a lot of bad words."

"Can you remember what he said to the other person?  You don't have to say
the bad words."

David sighed and said, "But there were a lot of them."  He paused, evidently
to edit his reply.

"He called the other one some bad names and said it was the last one and now
he planned on keeping this one for himself.  He told the one on the phone
that they had gotten what they wanted, now leave him alone, goddammit."  He
looked guiltily up at his mother.

Mulder slowly stood, thinking about what David had told him.  Serial killers
normally are solo murderers.  Granted there had been a few cases where there
had been two or more working in tandem, but that was extremely rare.  He
needed to get to the data base and talk this over with Scully, then see what
kind of profile he could work up...

Mary's words intruded on his thoughts as she asked, "Will you need to ask any
more questions for now?  Because if not, I need to go over to the
courthouse."

Mulder looked at his watch and was surprised to see that it was after 9:00
already.

"We'll get in touch with you later today about those pictures.  Be sure and
call me, though, if David remembers anything else."  He picked his coat up
from where it had been tossed and tugged the heavy woolen garment on before
walking to the door.  Mary and David followed him and he turned as his hand
rested on the doorknob.

In that instant Mulder took in every detail of their bodies, their
expressions, and the trust he saw in their eyes.  It overwhelmed him and he
turned so they couldn't see his face as he opened the door.  As he walked
toward his car he heard the door close.  It sounded so final.  His heart
ached with the deepest sense of loneliness he had ever felt, knowing that he
didn't belong in their lives.

He sat in the car for a few minutes, his forehead leaning against the
steering wheel.  Then he turned the key in the ignition and drove toward the
motel, making sure that he took note of the Volvo parked in Mrs Haley's
driveway as the passed the second house from the Chandlers'.

______________


Scully had not been surprised by the Sheriff's breakfast choice.  She was
used to Mulder's alarming food consumption when he was in the mood, so what
she watched Matt Vernon consume came as no shock.

They were at a diner downtown and the Sheriff was almost done with his
three-egg western omelet, hash browns, sausages, bacon, toast, pancakes,
fruit and oatmeal.  How he and Mulder could stay so slender while consuming
such vast quantities of heavy food was beyond her knowledge as a medical
doctor.  Maybe she knew "secret doctor things" as Mulder put it, but this one
had escaped her thus far.  And there was the opposite side of the coin where
her partner would eat practically nothing during a case, apparently
subsisting on adrenaline and hidden reserves of energy.

She realized suddenly that her companion had said something.

"I'm sorry, my mind was off somewhere.  What did you say?"

"Paul Gregory from the Portland Bureau Office called me this morning just
before we went to breakfast.  When he found out that you two were here
working the case he went ballistic.  He's probably been burning the phone
lines up between here and D.C. ever since."

Scully could feel her face burn as she flushed with embarrassment.  "Yes,
well, we need to talk with him, and the sooner the better."

"Why do I get the feeling that your partner doesn't exactly follow life's
little pre-set paths?  He pretty much does his own thing, right?"

She shrugged, not wanting to talk about Mulder behind his back.

Her companion put his fork down and sighed.  "I have to ask something and I
hope you won't take it as prying.  But I need to know."  He looked directly
into her eyes and waited.

"Go ahead and ask.  How bad can it be?"  Scully reached for her glass of
water, not knowing what to expect him to say.

"Is David Chandler your partner's son?"

She choked on the mouthful of water she had just sipped from the glass.

While she recovered, Sheriff Vernon added, "I just wondered, because if you
dressed the kid up in a little suit and tie and gave him a cel phone,
everyone would think Agent Mulder had been shrunk by an alien ray-gun or
something.  They look exactly alike.  Well, maybe not exactly, but pretty
damn close."

Now he had to wait until Scully finished laughing as well as choking.
 Finally she was able to speak.  "Um, you'll have to discuss that with him,
I'm afraid."  She blotted her tear-filled eyes with a napkin.  The mental
image generated by what the Sheriff had said was still vivid.  The laughter
threatened to well up again, but she successfully put a lid on it.

"Why don't we head back to the motel and go over the case until your partner
shows up?" he said, with a twinkle in his eye.  "Meanwhile, I promise not to
tell anyone about my suspicions."

Scully nodded gratefully as they paid for the food, then left the diner.

(Continued in Part 3)


DAVID    (3/7)
by Gerry Hill
(GHill52695@aol.com)

His cel phone was ringing as he pulled up into the motel's parking lot.

"Mulder."

"Agent Mulder.  May I ask where the *hell* you are right now?"  The angry
voice of his
supervisor, Assistant Director Walter Skinner, drilled into his head from the
earpiece.  Uh, oh.

"Investigating the VCS case in Washington, sir."

"Haven't you learned anything in your years with the government, Agent
Mulder?  You've heard of the concept of teamwork? And you are aware of the
normal procedures for dealing with the chain of command?"

At Mulder's "Yes, sir," Skinner cut loose.  "*Then why are you not
coordinating your presence on the case with the Special Agent in Charge??!!*
Dammit, Mulder, you know better than that!"

"Sir, I wasn't expected in the Portland office until this morning.  When we
landed last night, we decided to check out this part of the case first, since
the rest of it will concentrate in Portland.  This portion will be out of the
way."

"We, Agent Mulder?  Did Agent Scully agree with this little 'detour' of
yours?"  Mulder could hear the underlying sarcasm.

"Sir, the reasoning made sense to her.  I was about to call Paul Gregory in
the Portland Office as soon as I got into the motel room.  I've just talked
with the last victim and plan to cover a few more aspects of the case before
reporting to the SAIC in Portland."

"In person."

"Yes, sir."

"See that you do, Agent Mulder."  The phone went dead.

Mulder turned the instrument off and mouthed a few choice swear words.
 Skinner had been on his case lately for some reason, and Mulder resented
feeling like a little kid who's mother is checking up on him instead of an
experienced FBI agent.  He decided not to delay facing the music so he
consulted his notebook and dialed Gregory's number.  Once the secretary heard
who was calling, he was instantly put through to the SAIC.

"I've heard all about how you're known for ignoring rules and regs, but
that's not the way I run my cases.  What's going on that you had to head
right up to Willows and investigate prior to checking in with me?"

"Good morning to you, too," Mulder said wryly.  "I didn't mean to step on
toes and didn't think you expected me until this morning anyway.  Heading up
here from the airport yesterday evening seemed like the right thing to do, to
get this part out of the way first."

"Oh, it did, huh?  Well there are a couple of agents here who've stayed on
top of the Willows abduction, and they could have filled you in quite easily
without your little side trip being necessary."

Mulder fondly recalled meeting Gregory in D.C. once at some sort of
conference, and he could visualize a balding, forty-five year old
accountant-type who seemed to be constantly in a state of irritation.

Knowing this would get his attention, Mulder stated, "The victim has told me
what happened and was able to give me a description of the car and of his
abductor."

"What!?  No one could get the boy to speak....Give me what you have so far."

Mulder smiled at the sudden interest and proceeded to repeat what David had
told him earlier.  "The car I saw in the driveway was at least ten years old
if not more," concluding his description of the vehicle used in the
abduction.

"Damn.  I'll get this out right now.  And you say there was someone his
abductor talked to on the phone?  Do you think they're working together in
these abductions and murders?"

"I think it's likely.  I need to put a profile together.  I'm just about to
start on that."

"Where are you staying?  I'm sending an agent up to assist.  See if you can
get a room reserved for him.  And I want you to get the Sheriff to set up a
separate area in his office for your command center.  Let me know when you
get more of a description of the perp from the child."

Mulder gave him the rest of what he needed, then asked, "What agent are you
sending up here?"

His name is Charlie Chan - I know, he's used to getting ribbed about it.
 He's a good investigator, a really good sharpshooter, can speak seven
languages, and has been covering this case since the beginning."

"Sounds good.  I'll stay in touch, then."

"I'm counting on it.  And Agent Mulder, we have some unfinished business to
discuss when this case is over.  I won't forget about your lone wolf act
here."

"Somehow I didn't think you would."

They disconnected and Mulder went into his room to get started on the
profile.

_________________

Sheriff Vernon stopped by his office on the way back to the motel to get the
map and file on the Chandler case.  Scully was able to meet the clerk, a
cranky sixty-year-old matron named Beth Foley, and one of the Deputies, Fred
Sullivan.  Fred was about forty-two years old, six feet tall, and still in
good condition.  But he was a real talker and had managed to cover his first
seven years in uniform before they were able to get away.  When they arrived
at the Willows Court Motel they saw the rental and knew that Mulder had
returned.  Both were dying of curiosity about what had transpired at the
Chandler house that morning.

Scully tapped at Mulder's door, hearing a voice call, "Who is it?"

"Chelsea Clinton - I hear you're interested in government conspiracies," she
answered, and smiled when she saw the Sheriff raise his eyebrow.

Then the door was opening to a delighted agent who gave his partner a
lingering look, saying, "Scully, did you actually make a joke?  What was in
your orange juice?"

He backed up to let them enter.  He had Scully's laptop out and papers strewn
all over the room.

"Give me a second and we can get out of here."  He exited the laptop program,
shut it off, and closed the case while continuing to speak.  "Sheriff, do you
have a spare room in your office somewhere?  Paul Gregory has requested that
we set up a 'command center.'  He's sending another agent up here to assist
us with pursuing this end of the case while the Portland office keeps working
on the murders."

Scully and Sheriff Vernon could only stare at Mulder, absorbing this turn of
events.

Mulder smiled at their reactions.  "Don't worry; he's planning on taking a
good-sized chunk out of my ass before we're done."

Her gaze idly drifting to the body part in question, Scully noticed that he
had changed clothes and was now wearing hiking boots, jeans, and a
warm-looking pullover sweater.  "Has the FBI changed its dress code while I
was out?" she asked him.

"Oh, I forgot.  As nice as your current outfit is, you may want to change,
too, Scully."  He made an exaggerated point of eyeing her legs
appreciatively.  "When we get to the site, I want to look around in the
forest for something.  Hurry up and I'll tell you about it in the car."

She disappeared into her room leaving the Sheriff and Mulder to make small
talk for a few minutes.  Mulder took the opportunity to have Sheriff Vernon
put out a bulletin for a blue Volvo wagon, ten to twelve years old.  He had
just replaced the phone receiver when Scully reappeared dressed similar to
Mulder, wearing a parka, boots and gloves.

Sheriff Vernon commented, "You take the motto 'be prepared' seriously, don't
you?"

"Let's just say that I've traveled with Mulder before."

Her partner gave her a look, then grabbed his jacket and said, "OK, we're out
of here.  On the way, I want all of us to go over the case in light of what
I've discovered in the past few hours."

They got into the rental car, Mulder saying he would like to drive and
familiarize himself with the countryside.  Scully figured that he was just
too hyper right now to passively sit in the passenger seat and needed
something active to do, like driving.  After getting some directions from the
Sheriff and they were on their way out of town, he filled them in on what
David had told him about the abduction.

They were initially surprised that the boy had spoken at all, much less told
a stranger about his ordeal.  The Sheriff offered his opinion first.

"From what the child said about the telephone conversation between the
abductor and the unknown party, you think there's a sort of 'mastermind'
who's directing this guy to kill kids?  That sounds really unlikely.  And how
could the kid remember what was said so clearly?  Most kids don't remember
what you told them five minutes ago."

Mulder carefully took the turn onto a rural road, thinking about his
response.  How could he tell them that he suspected that David had inherited
his eidetic memory?

"He seemed pretty sure about it all.  He's a really bright kid and I'm
inclined to accept his version of what happened.  I think the unknown party
may have picked out the victims and pointed his man in their direction.  All
of the children were abducted in the Portland area, and their bodies were
also found in that vicinity.  But when we happen to come across a victim who
survived, we hear that he was abducted in Portland, but then transported up
into this part of Washington.  The killer and his boss probably live up here
but were taking and dumping the victims in the Portland area to throw
authorities off the trail."

Scully could see that the Sheriff was getting frustrated with Mulder's
seeming leaps to
conclusions, not having seen him work in his "Spooky" mode before.  Things
were silent for a few miles, everyone thinking about the case in one way or
another.

Scully spoke up to ask, "What about the notes left at the abduction sites?
 If this guy was just a hired killer, he wouldn't be obsessing about obscure
religious tracts."

"Just more cover to make it look like a solo serial killer.  But I don't
think the murderer is 'just a hired killer.'  I think he really is a
disturbed individual who probably would have been killing children, except in
this case he got a little direction from someone.  We need to get Agent Chan
to dig into the background of all the victims.  Our answer might lie in that
direction."

"Make a right turn here," the Sheriff interrupted.

Mulder couldn't see a road at first, then saw that it was cut through the
forest with no road marker at the intersection.  He made the turn a little
sharper than intended, and Scully would have slid against him if she hadn't
been wearing the seat belt.

"Damn, that maneuver would have worked if it hadn't been for the seat belt,
Scully."

"This isn't a date, Mulder."  Then she remembered their audience and realized
he might be taking this the wrong way.  She turned to look at the Sheriff and
added, "Don't mind him; you get used to it after a few years."

Sheriff Vernon smiled, obviously not bothered by Mulder's mild flirting with
Scully.  He
recognized it as a product of a long-time friendship on the job.  It was
difficult to work out of each other's pocket day after day and not get
comfortable with each other.

He realized where they were all of a sudden and said, "This is it.  Pull over
on that verge."

Mulder complied, asking, "Did anyone try to backtrack David Chandler's route
from here?"

"Of course.  But the trees are pretty thick, the fir needles make a soft
carpet on the forest floor, and they couldn't pick up a trail for more than a
few feet from the road.  They spread out and went back about half a mile,
with no luck.  Didn't figure a boy that young would have been able to run
much farther with all the undergrowth."

"Where was he picked up?"

"Dan Laudermann saw him standing on the opposite side of the road, right
there."  He pointed to a spot that looked like all the rest of the area.

Mulder got out of the car and stood for a moment taking in his surroundings
and sniffing the air.

"Scully, let's head out on a straight line from where the kid showed up and
see what we can find.  I want to check back at least a mile, if not more.
 Are you up to it?"

She gave him an irritated look, not bothering to answer.

And so they set out, the Sheriff shaking his head and then following.  They
were slightly spread out, Mulder on one end, then Scully, and then Sheriff
Vernon at the far right.  The going was not too bad at first, but the
underbrush began to impede their progress before  long.  They were having to
detour around more and more stumps covered in moss, fallen trees, bushes,
brambles and unidentifiable plant life.  They had lost sight of each other
before going a hundred yards.  Mulder was picturing a naked, defenseless,
terrified child running through this forest at night and shuddered.

Scully had steadily been getting farther and farther from Mulder's position
because of the undergrowth.  The Sheriff was somewhere over to her right; she
had been getting glimpses of him between the trees earlier, but hadn't
noticed him for ten minutes or so.

Suddenly someone stepped out from behind a large fir and put the barrel of a
sawed-off shotgun to her head.  She couldn't see the attacker, but a quick
glance had given her an impression of a massive body.  He didn't speak, but
patted her around the waist and found her gun.  He removed it to tuck away
into his pocket, then grabbed the collar of her parka at the back.

Scully was dragged like a rag doll through the trees.  The tightened collar
around her throat not only prevented her from calling out a warning to the
Sheriff, but it was seriously restricting her breathing.  She frantically
worked at pulling the zipper of her parka down, hoping he wouldn't notice
what his captive was up to.  Then the coat was open and she was raising her
arms behind her and falling forward, able to get free of the unwanted grasp.

Scully was rolling away from the man trying to draw a breath to call out a
warning to the Sheriff when a booted foot caught her on the chin and
everything went gray, leaving her semi-conscious.  She couldn't tell how much
time was passing, but she was aware when the man told Vernon to pick her up
and carry her to the cabin.

Although her mind was still fuzzy at the edges, she saw that they were moving
into a clearing and that there was a building up ahead.   As they reached the
cabin door she wondered what had become of Mulder.  She fervently hoped that
he hadn't run into a worse fate than being captured.

Meanwhile, when he reckoned they had covered a mile, Mulder called out to
Scully, thinking that she should be located somewhere slightly in front and
to his right.  There was no answer.  His brow wrinkled in a frown and Mulder
called again as he walked toward her assumed location, knowing that she
should have been close enough to have heard him.  Still nothing.

"Sheriff!" he tried, but got the same result.  The forest was deathly still.
 He tried to hold back the panic he felt rising in his chest when he suddenly
stumbled on her parka lying on the ground.  He walked forward, eyes hopefully
searching for an alive and uninjured Scully, and abruptly found himself out
of the woods in a small open area.  A rough-looking cabin sat about forty
yards beyond.  Mulder fought against his first impulse to rush toward the
structure to see if Scully were in danger.  He moved back into the trees
instead, pulled out his cel phone, and called the number he had for the
Sheriff's Department.

"Sheriff's Department; Deputy Sullivan," was the response.

"This is Special Agent Fox Mulder.  My partner Dana Scully and Sheriff Vernon
may be in serious trouble.  We need backup now.  We're about a mile west of
where David Chandler was found after his abduction.  I'm going to check out
the cabin where I think he was held."

Mulder disconnected, not waiting to have a conversation.  He pulled his gun
from its holster and headed for the back of the cabin as quickly as he could
cover the ground. There was a rear exit that he planned to go through.

_______________

Scully finally got a good look at their attacker when Vernon gently lowered
her into a chair by a table.  The man held the shotgun directed right at
them.  She saw that he was blond, at least six foot six, nearly 300 pounds,
and almost all muscle.  She asked, "Who are you?" not really expecting a
response.

But he replied readily enough.  "Jack Lobell is my name.  It doesn't matter,
since you won't be around to tell anyone that."  He gave her an evil grin.
 "And don't expect that other guy out in the woods will save you.  I have my
own plans for him."

Lobell ordered the Sheriff to tie Scully's wrists and ankles together, then
checked that they were tight enough.  Then he told Vernon to lie face down on
the floor.  He took the Sheriff's handcuffs and snapped them on the owner's
wrists, then tied his ankles together.

All of this took just a few minutes, and then he disappeared into the back
room, his shotgun held ready.

Scully realized the ropes were too tight for her to accomplish anything if
she struggled, so she let herself fall from the chair to the floor and
scooted toward Sheriff Vernon.

"Sheriff," she said as she reached his side.

"I think the circumstances warrant you calling me Matt," he dryly suggested.

"Matt.  Do you think you could try untying these knots on my wrists if I get
them close enough to you?"

"Let's give it a shot.  Don't have anything better to do right now."

She twisted onto her side and he did the same so they were back-to-back.  He
began working at the knots on her tightly-bound wrists.  He commented, "After
a prisoner managed to get the drop on me one time and got the handcuff keys
out of my pocket, I've taken to carrying the keys in a small inner pocket.
 To get to them, you would have to get my pants down.  So trying to untie the
knots on this rope is probably easier than trying to get to the keys."

She was thinking, "But not as much fun."  What came out was, "Lobell didn't
take your keys, then?"

He began to answer when a shotgun blast drew a startled cry from Scully as
they both jumped from the sudden noise.  Her concern for Mulder grew into an
enormous dread.  "Get me loose," she hissed, shoving her hands against the
Sheriff's back.  He stepped up his effort, feeling a sharp pain as one of his
fingernails tore into the quick.


-------------------

The impact of the shotgun pellets against Mulder's left shoulder spun him
halfway around and his gun went flying.  The full force of the blast had
missed him, or he would have been dead already.  After the initial numbness,
the pain slammed into him like a sledgehammer.  It hurt like hell, but he
couldn't stop to think about it.  The shooter was coming down the back steps,
reloading the shotgun.  No time to reach his own weapon so he took the only
cover at hand; he rolled under the house where there was a large gap in the
crawl space next to the porch.

Crawling with an urgency born of fear, both for himself and for his partner,
he managed to get well under the house before he heard the guy with the gun
entering from the same access.  Since it was the middle of the day, it wasn't
dark enough beneath the cabin for him to hide very successfully.  So he kept
crawling frantically toward the opposite end of the house, trying to ignore
the pain in his shoulder, hoping there would be a convenient exit.  His life
depended on it.

Mulder cursed the fact that he hadn't worn his ankle holster this time.  He
had simply forgotten it, probably because it didn't seem necessary for a hike
in the woods.  Stupid, he thought, since this was exactly the sort of
situation for which he had begun carrying the extra gun.  A quiet internal
voice reminded him that he was way too personally involved in the case and
was bound to make mistakes.  Maybe fatal ones.

He realized that he needed to speed things up when a glance back revealed a
hulking shadow much closer than expected.  He put on a burst of speed just as
another blast came from the shotgun.  He felt a blow slam into the bottom of
his left foot that hurt like hell for a second, and then went numb.  He hoped
he hadn't just lost one of his body parts.  Scooting faster than he thought
was possible Mulder could see a gap in the crawlspace ahead.  And then he was
through it, lying face up in the sunlight, covered in cobwebs, dirt and God
knew what from under the house.

When Scully heard the second shotgun blast, this time from under the floor,
she frantically began to flex, yank and pull at her loosened bonds.  She
ignored the pain the abrasion was causing, and at last the rope gave way.
 Hating to waste any more precious seconds, she nevertheless matter-of-factly
unbuttoned and unzipped Matts' pants, dug the handcuff keys from the small
pocket she found inside and freed his hands.  Another minute and she was
shaking the rope from her ankles, whispering her plea to God to let Mulder
still be all right.

Her partner in the meantime was acutely aware that he had to get moving, so
he rolled over, or at least tried to.  His adrenalin level had dropped and
pain from the injured shoulder suddenly made itself known with a vengeance.
 He stifled a moan as he managed to get to his knees, noting gratefully
somewhere in the back of his mind that his two feet were still attached to
his legs.

Then his pursuer burst out from under the house, reloading as he got to his
feet.  He shoved the barrels of the shotgun against the kneeling agent's
forehead none too gently, obviously intending to kill him outright.

Mulder surprisingly felt no fear at this swiftly approaching fate, but a deep
chasm of regrets opened up in his mind.  He found that another had been added
to the long list - that of his son, David.  But before he could give any
thought to mourning the fact that he would never have the opportunity to do
anything about erasing past sins , a shotgun blast became his whole universe.

Scully had raced ahead of the Sheriff out of the cabin moments earlier, saw
the situation, and purely by reflex slammed both arms under the shotgun just
as Lobell pulled the triggers.  Mulder fell back limply and for a horrible
eternity Scully thought he had been hit.

Lobell meanwhile was trying to brain Scully with the now-empty shotgun.  She
managed to avoid the first swing at her head, when she heard Matt yelling,
"Police!  Let go of the weapon and put your hands in the air!"  He had
somehow found one of their guns and was now holding it steadily on her
attacker's back.

Lobell ignored the warning and renewed his efforts to mow Scully down.  As
she ducked and backed away from the menace of the shotgun, she tripped over
Mulder's feet and fell to the ground.  As she hit the hard dirt with her
shoulder she heard the blast of a gun and Lobell toppled like a felled tree,
right on top of her.

Lobell's eyes glazed over and his full weight settled on Scully.  She was
having trouble breathing when Matt finally managed to pull him to the side.
 She was on her feet and kneeling beside Mulder before Matt had straightened
up again.



DAVID    (4/7)
By Gerry Hill
(GHill52695@aol.com)

While Scully muttered and swore at having to fill out what seemed a ream of
forms at the hospital, Mulder was having about a dozen shotgun pellets pried
out of his shoulder.  Four injections had deadened the site of the injury and
now he was just wishing Doctor Daisy would speed the process up a little.  He
thought of her as Doctor Daisy because that was her first name and because it
sounded a lot better than Holtzenfelter.  He knew she had to be older than
she looked, which was fourteen.

"Plonk!"  Another pellet hit the bottom of the little metal pan that sat next
to him on a small table.  Mulder was sitting in a chair since Doctor Daisy
was so short she wouldn't have been able to reach his shoulder if he had
perched on the examination table.

"There!" she said in a satisfied tone.  She carefully cleaned out the last of
the holes, liberally smeared on an antibiotic ointment, and placed a gauze
pad over the whole thing.  A few strips of tape completed the job.

Shaking her long blonde curls back from her face, she straightened up and
gave him a pat on the head.  Mulder was feeling confused; she looked like a
kid sister, her caring and compassion was very motherly, and the sultry looks
she threw his way periodically were very sexy.  Quite a contradiction, was
Doctor Daisy.

Scully showed up in the doorway at that point, and he felt relief that he
wouldn't have to figure out how to deal with this enigmatic doctor.  Had he
been uninjured, alone in town, with no case involving the personal
ramifications this one had, however...

"Ready to go, Mulder?" Scully asked, taking in the scene.  She looked vaguely
amused for some reason and Mulder was thinking that she saw entirely too damn
much and knew him too damn well.

Doctor Daisy spoke up for him.  "He's all set.  Be sure and pick up the
painkiller and antibiotic at the pharmacy on your way out.  And see if you
can get him to rest; it's the best thing to promote healing."

Mulder felt awkward with the doctor talking about him as though he weren't
sitting right next to her.  After all, his hearing had returned to normal.
  And between Scully and himself, they probably knew more about how to treat
his injury than I Was a Teenage Doctor, here.

He refrained from commenting and pulled his ruined shirt back on instead.
 Besides being stiff, his shoulder didn't feel too bad.  Of course, it was
full of a local anesthetic.  He grabbed his pullover and coat, gave Doctor
Daisy the Mulder version of a smouldering look, then limped out the door on
the ruined heel to search for the Pharmacy with a partner who was trying her
best not to snicker at his antics.

While waiting for the prescriptions, Mulder asked, "What happened to the
Sheriff?"

"He was meeting Agent Chan at the crime scene.  After that, I'm sure he'll
catch up with us.  You know the drill for all the questions and reports
following this sort of thing."

He glumly nodded.  There was a contemplative silence as Scully drove them
back to the motel.  He was thinking about how they were going to track down
the person who had been guiding Lobell's bloody hands.  First he wanted to
get a start on doing some research on the victims and their families,
thinking he could find a connection there.  He could turn the process over to
Chan later when they got together.   Mulder borrowed Scully's laptop again
and disappeared into his room after she first made sure he took his pills.

Scully took some ibuprofen for her jaw and then lay down on her bed to get a
few minutes' rest.  The few minutes turned into an hour when she drifted off
to sleep.  She was startled awake by some very insistent knocking at her
door.  She made sure to peer through the peephole first and then opened the
door to Matt Vernon.

He took in the bruise and swelling on her jaw.  It was much more pronounced
than when he had last seen her at the cabin.  Her hair was tousled and her
clothes rumpled, so he figured that she had been napping and hadn't eaten
yet.

"How about some dinner?" he asked.

She looked at her watch in surprise and saw that it was 6:10 pm already.
 "Yeah, I'm hungry.  We didn't have lunch.  Let me touch base with Mulder,
take a quick shower, and we could meet you somewhere."

As she spoke, she walked to Mulder's door and knocked on it.  No answer, not
even one of his pitiful excuses for a wisecrack.  A frown appeared on her
forehead and she rapped on the door again.  Still no answer.

Trying not to show her anger at what looked like another blow-off by her
partner, Scully told Vernon, "Looks as though it's just you and me again.  He
must have gone out."  Seething inwardly, she saw that the car was, indeed,
gone, when she looked out at the half-deserted parking lot.

The Sheriff said, "Go ahead and get cleaned up, then we'll drive over to the
Chandlers'.  I have a feeling that's where he'll be."

"OK, except I'll just comb my hair and change sweaters.  I'll be ready in a
few minutes."

She was true to her word and got into the car next to Vernon in record time.
 He noted that she looked a hundred percent better and thought that she might
have taken one of those minutes to apply some concealing makeup over her
bruise, since it wasn't so prominent anymore.


Earlier that evening

After a shower, Mulder had pulled up his e-mail and found that the Lone
Gunmen had come through for him with the background information he had
requested on Mary Chandler.  And what he read caused him to go pale.

"Married James C. Bentley, multi-millionaire developer, January 3, 1990."
 That was only a few weeks after we broke up - when she was pregnant - he was
thinking.  "Male child born August 15, 1990, named David William.  Obtained
law degree May 10, 1991. Spouse died June 3, 1991 in boating accident.  Moved
to Boulder, Colorado, August 22, 1991.  Married Gary Selkirk, architect,
November 12, 1991.  Spouse died from skiing accident on Christmas Day, 1991.
 Moved to Willows, Washington, February 26, 1992.  Married Anthony Parker,
attorney at law, August 24, 1992.  Interned at spouse's law firm.  Spouse
reported missing when he didn't return from hunting trip, November 19, 1995.
 Remains later identified and death was reported as a result of a thirty-five
foot fall from a rocky ledge.  Mrs. Parker restored the name of Chandler to
herself and to her son on February 1, 1996.  Ms Chandler legally became sole
owner of spouse's law firm at the same time name was changed."

Mulder was aghast at the history he was reading.  A wave of nausea hit him,
but then receded.  She had told him that she just wanted a baby and didn't
want to marry.  Obviously, he thought, she just didn't want to marry *him*.
 The husband she selected after he left was a multi-millionaire.  She had
probably been sleeping with both of us, he figured.

Christ!  The data strongly suggested that Mary was a "black widow" killer who
mated and then murdered their spouse/lover.  He felt a chill at the thought
that he had been a strong candidate as one of her victims.  Why had he
emerged unharmed?  And David...My God.  The nausea returned with a vengeance.

After he was sick in the bathroom he felt a little better.  He realized that
he had a serial killer case to work on but he also needed to make sure that
David was all right.  There was no proof that his mother was a murderer,
obviously, or she would have been locked up long ago.  This could get nasty.

He decided to go over to the Sheriff's office to pry a little gossip from the
staff, and try not to be too obvious about it.  And then he would go over to
Mary's house for a talk.  He figured that Scully was getting a much-needed
nap, so he would have to be quiet when leaving the motel.  She would probably
kill him later for what she called "ditching" her, but he didn't want her
involved any more than necessary with his sordid past life.  She probably had
a low opinion of him as it was, and didn't need any more material to
strengthen that assessment of his moral fiber.  And he wasn't anxious to see
her reaction when he told her that his former girlfriend had married and
buried three husbands since August 1990.

Mulder put his suit and his undamaged pair of shoes on, noticing that the
painkiller seemed to be keeping his aches and pains at bay for now.   When he
reached the Sheriff's office he found the clerk had gone for the day, but
Deputy Sullivan was still there, talking with Agent Chan over a cup of
coffee.

Chan knew who Mulder was, and couldn't hide his awe of the man.  His
reputation within the Bureau was mixed, but Chan knew that Fox Mulder had
solved some pretty tough cases in his career and was thought to be a somewhat
warped genius..  He was more than happy to tackle the investigation into the
victims' families and any other job the infamous "Spooky" threw his way.
 After sending the enthusiastic agent back to his computer, Mulder asked
Deputy Sullivan to tell him everything he knew about Mary Chandler.

The Deputy didn't often have a captive audience, and relished the attention.
 After five minutes of small talk he said, "We were surprised when she
married old Tony Parker, one of three local attorneys.  She could have had
the pick of the men in town, but went for the man who was fifteen years older
than she was.  Tony was a good catch, mind you, with his law firm and his
family's money..."

"He was well-off?" Mulder asked.

"I would be inclined to say he was rich," the Deputy said, grinning.  "Scads
of dough.  He came from a wealthy Seattle shipping family and didn't have to
work, but he liked the law.  We all had quite a respect for the man around
here.  It was a shock when he went missing and then his body was found in
that ravine."

"Did you see the site where his body was found?"

"Hell, yes, I saw it.  I'm the one who found Tony's body, or what was left of
it.  The animals and the elements had pretty much taken care of the soft
parts, but the autopsy showed that it was Tony, all right."  He sat shaking
his head, remembering.

"What about the investigation?  Did anything look suspicious about the
death?"

"Not really.  Other than Tony was afraid of heights and no one could figure
out why he might have been out on that rocky ledge to begin with.  Might have
been running from something like a cougar and got dead-ended at the ravine.
 We still have predatory animals out in that forest. Or it was dark and he
just didn't see the drop-off.  Anyway, there wasn't anything to indicate it
might have been murder."

"Did his wife inherit everything?"

"Except for some holdings in Seattle that reverted back to his family, yeah,
she got everything.  She even took over the law firm, and she's done a great
job of it, too."

Mulder could see that Deputy Sullivan was a "Mary supporter" and took another
tack.

"So she's available again - any serious suitors?"

He flushed and said, "Probably every single man in town.  As for
front-runners, Alan Tyler and our own Sheriff Vernon are the most likely to
win out."

Mulder hid his surprise at hearing that Sheriff Vernon had that kind of a
relationship with Mary and asked, "Who do you think will succeed?"

The Deputy thought a minute and said, "Tyler hates kids.  Well, maybe it's
not that strong; they irritate the hell out of him.  On the other hand,
Sheriff Vernon loves kids, especially little David.  Going on feelings alone,
I would put the Sheriff in there by a nose."

Bluntly, Mulder asked, "Which one has more money?"

Deputy Sullivan raised his eyebrows and answered, "Why, Tyler, of course.
 He's a financial advisor and took his own advice in playing the stock
market.  I would guess he's worth at least a million and probably three or
four.  The Sheriff is just a working stiff with a little money put away for
the future.  He's comfortable, living here in Willows, anyway."

Mulder thanked the Deputy and took a minute to check on Chan and to see what
kind of "command center" had been allocated to their team.  It turned out
they had a 12x12 room containing a computer station, a conference table, six
chairs, and a chalkboard on the wall.  Chan was busily at work pulling up
backgrounds and histories at the computer.  Mulder cautioned him against
working much longer, and that he should go get some dinner.

"I've got an errand to run, but we could get together for breakfast; say,
8:00?" Mulder asked.

"Sure.  I'll come by your room then."

Mulder nodded and then took off for the Chandlers'.   As he drove, he thought
about what Sullivan had told him earlier and began processing each fact in
his mind, selecting key ideas and rejecting obvious irrelevancies.  Suddenly
he pulled over to the curb, slamming on his brakes.  "Shit!  Oh, shit!"  He
hit his fist painfully against the steering wheel, oblivious to the pain.  He
went over everything again, trying to pull in other data that would show his
conclusion to be false, but he wasn't able to disprove it.  He hurriedly
dialed Sullivan and asked the Deputy to check on something for him.  For
once, the man didn't babble on about his dog, job or friends and came back in
four minutes with the information.

With a terse "thanks," Mulder disconnected, put the car into gear and floored
the gas, intent on getting to Mary's house as fast as humanly possible.


The Chandler House
6:29pm

Scully and Sheriff Vernon drove up in front of the house and parked at the
curb.  The street lights had come on, but there was no sign of Mulder's
rental.  "Looks like I guessed wrong.  Since we're here, let's go in for a
minute.  I'm good friends with the family and I'd like to see how they're
doing."  

Mary answered the door looking a little disheveled.  "Oh, hi Matt.  I was
doing some
housecleaning.  Come on in."  She moved back into the living room as Matt
introduced Scully.

"You're Agent Fox Mulder's partner," she commented, with interest.

Suddenly a small body came rocketing from the back doorway calling, "Sheriff
Matt!!  Sheriff Matt!!"  David threw himself into the Sheriff's arms,
giggling at being scooped up and tossed over the tall man's shoulder like a
sack of flour.

Scully had to smile at the two - they were making faces at each other now,
and the boy seemed quite comfortable to be held by his friend.  She noticed
that David was wearing a new-looking blue and white striped tee shirt with
unwrinkled khaki pants and wondered if they had been going somewhere.

Mary motioned that they should sit, and Scully went to an overstuffed chair.
 Sheriff Vernon put David back onto his feet and listened as he told him all
about the kid next door who had gotten a new puppy and he would be allowed to
play with him later.  After a few minutes his mother asked him to get coffee
for everyone; there was some already brewed.  He went off to the kitchen, and
Matt said softly, "That's quite a change from a day ago."

"Yes, he seemed to snap out of it during Mulder's...um, Agent Mulder's visit
yesterday.  I haven't been able to shut him up since then."

Then they all jumped slightly as someone began to frantically pound on the
front door.  When Mary looked through the peep-hole she saw a wild-eyed
Mulder who appeared to be somewhat out of control.

"It's your partner, Agent Scully.  He seems to be upset."

Against Mary's better judgment, she unlocked the door and it was pushed open
immediately, causing her to back up a few steps.  She gave a startled cry

Scully saw the Sheriff's hand on his gun, so she quickly got to her feet and
walked toward her partner saying, "Mulder!  What's wrong?"

But her partner's eyes were riveted on Mary, who returned his gaze with
concern.

"Where is he?" Mulder rasped.

At that point David came out of the kitchen, stepping slowly and carefully,
carrying a mug of coffee in each hand.  He hadn't noticed Mulder, his
attention focused on not spilling the drinks.

The frantic agent took in the sight and slowly let out a long breath of
relief.  Then he muttered, "Excuse me," and grabbed his partner's wrist
tightly with his left hand.   She tried not to wince when it irritated the
abraded skin where the rope had rubbed.  He didn't notice, but pulled her
into the far corner of the room and said in a low, urgent voice, "We've got
to get him out of here, Scully."

"Don't you think his mother might have something to say about that?" she
replied, prying his fingers from her wrist.  He released his grasp suddenly,
took a deep breath to calm himself and told her, "She's probably murdered
three husbands and...may be responsible for the murdered children in our
serial killer case."

Scully glanced over at Mary who had rejoined the Sheriff on the sofa.  She
kept her voice low, but it was tense with her reaction at his statement, as
she asked, "You have proof?"

"No, but a mighty damn solid suspicion.  I need a little time to build the
case but meanwhile David can't be left with her."  He closed his eyes.  "I
believe that she set up the other murders through Lobell so that David's
death would appear to be a part of that series."

"Oh my God!  Why would she want to do something so horrible as to kill her
own child, not to mention those other children?"

He watched Mary talk with the Sheriff at the far end of the large room as
David walked toward the two on the sofa carrying a third cup of coffee.  They
kept glancing over at the two agents, but Sheriff Vernon had evidently
decided to let Scully see what was going on with her partner before butting
in.

Mulder said, "You've heard of people who are born with the inability to feel
anything like love or empathy for their fellow humans?  There have been
serial killers like that who managed to blend into society by imitating those
feelings.  This ability to mimic emotions conceals their true nature, which
is a coldness and indifference to life, enabling them to kill without feeling
remorse.  It would have no more meaning to them than shaking dust from a
rug."

He leaned against the wall, appearing weary and heartsick.

Scully said, "But what would her reason be for having David killed after all
this time?"

"She wants to marry Alan Tyler, a rich man who doesn't like kids.  He would
be her fourth wealthy husband in seven years."

"But..."

Forestalling her next question, he said, "She's an attorney.  She represented
Lobell when he stood trial for child molestation.  Got him off scott free.
 She could have easily manipulated him to use the serial killings as a cover
up for the eventual murder of her own kid.  No one would connect her to the
crime."

"Listen to yourself, Mulder.  You are stringing a series of facts together to
fit your premise.  So she's an attorney who represented Lobell.  There are
probably only a few attorneys in this town who are trial lawyers; the odds
that she would be retained by him or be court-appointed are high.  As for the
dead spouses, apparently there was no proof that she had anything to do with
their deaths, or she wouldn't be free today."  Although his expression was
grim and closed to her, she resolutely continued.

"She's an attractive woman and it's normal for her to re-marry.  And some
stepfathers, if the truth be told, probably don't care for their
stepchildren, but if they love their wives, they adjust to the new situation.
 Killing the kid is a little drastic, don't you think?"

"Scully, she's Lobell's guiding hand in the murders, and she murdered three
husbands."  His face was leaning close to hers, his eyes black and
unreadable.

"Is this coming from a need for revenge for what she did to you eight years
ago, Mulder?" His partner's chin came up in a gesture of bravery in the face
of the coming anger she expected.  But it didn't prepare her for the silence
as his gaze bored into her soul.

Finally he said, "Scully.  For someone who claims to trust me..."  His eyes,
his expression, his whole body seemed to accuse her of betrayal.  He leaned
in closer, nearly nose-to-nose.  "I need my partner to back me up here.  How
many times have I had just this kind of gut feeling and it turned out to be
right?  Are you with me or not?  I need to know, Scully.  This one is too
important to me."

Her jaw clenched with fury at the thought of how often *he* claimed to trust
*her* and then ditched her or kept things to himself.  She spat out, "That
depends.  Are you planning to break the law here, Mulder?  Kidnap the boy,
perhaps?  You - Have - No - Legal - Basis for taking himaway from his mother
or for arresting her." 

She saw his eyes track past her, watching something on the other side of the
room.   So she turned slightly and saw that David was waving his hand at
Mulder with a big grin on his face.  She heard her partner take a deep breath
and his expression softened as he waved back.

The Sheriff finally couldn't stand it anymore.  He excused himself to Mary
and crossed the room to the peculiarly-acting federal agents.  He grimly
asked, "What the hell is going on here?  What's with all this whispering?
 Mary's got to be concerned about your actions, considering what's happened
in her life recently."

Mulder tersely filled the Sheriff in on his theories and conclusions and the
facts he had managed to gather.  Vernon's expression grew incredulous and
then anger suffused his face.

"You son of a bitch!  You're insane, and I don't know how they let you carry
that badge.  You're jumping to all kinds of wild conclusions and I've half a
mind to lock you up to protect these innocent people."

Mulder had a closed expression as he listened to this not-unfamiliar opinion
of his mental faculties.  And knowing how the Sheriff felt about Mary
Chandler, he understood the protective attitude. Then he pushed past the
Sheriff and strode over to Mary, leaning down to keep David from hearing what
he had to say.

"I know all about you and what you've done.  If you harm David in any way,
I'll kill you."  His expression backed up his threat, making it clear that he
meant what he said.  She sat very still, hardly breathing, her eyes wide with
shock.

Then the Sheriff's firm grip was on his arm.

"Let's go outside, Agent Mulder, and have a little discussion," he growled.

Mulder knew he was pushing it with the Sheriff, so he walked out of the
house, followed closely by Vernon and Scully.  They left the brightness of
the front porch light and stood on the walkway near the cars on the street.
 Vernon said, "All right.  Let's get it all out and see what we have.  My
first reaction is to bash your face in for what you said about Mary, but I'm
willing to discuss this situation and look at it strictly from the viewpoint
of the law."

Mulder appreciated that the man could see past his own rage and thought that
he might listen to what he had to say.  So he began to cover the facts in
detail, slowly and clearly leading up to his horrifying conclusion.

"I don't want this to be true any more than you, Sheriff," Mulder said, as
his eyes pleaded with the man for understanding and support.

Vernon nodded and slowly said, "I believe that you don't want these
suspicions to be true.  Since he's your son, you couldn't help but have
strong feelings on the subject."

Mulder's eyes widened and his first reaction was to look over at his partner.
 Scully realized that he thought she had told the Sheriff about the
relationship and felt an enormous sadness wash over her.  Unable to speak
without saying some things she would regret, she simply shook her head "no."

Sheriff Vernon caught this byplay and quickly said, "No one told me, Agent
Mulder.  I could see the resemblance immediately.  I also got the impression
that you had never seen him before and maybe didn't even know about his
birth.  But that's between you and Mary and it's none of my business."

So what do you propose we do about this, gentlemen?"  Scully's voice was
stiff and businesslike.  "It's my opinion that we need to find more evidence
before making any move against Ms Chandler."

DAVID    (5/7)
By Gerry Hill
(GHill52695@aol.com)

Sheriff Vernon agreed immediately with Scully that they needed to see if
there was hard evidence to be found which would support an arrest of Mary
Chandler in either the serial killer case or her husbands' deaths.  He still
would not believe that she had anything to do with any of it.  Mulder was
harder to convince that they must delay taking any immediate action, but
finally agreed, provided someone would keep watch on the house to make sure
that Mary and David didn't disappear meanwhile.  He volunteered to hang
around in his car until the Sheriff could send someone out to take over for
him.

Scully shot Mulder a suspicious look and remained with him while Vernon went
into the house.  The Sheriff said he would only tell Mary that they were
leaving and that they would contact her later or the next day to fill her in
as to what was going on.

"What are you going to do after we leave, Mulder?" Scully asked.

"Sit in my car, mom," he replied sarcastically.

Her face flushed and she snapped, "Dammit.  I don't deserve this attitude
you've got toward me.   If what you suspect is true, you could endanger the
case by doing anything stupid right now."

He was thinking that Scully was right, and that he was being an asshole, but
was not about to risk David by hanging back and letting Mary do God knew what
to him.  He had opened his mouth to break the uncomfortable silence but saw
the Sheriff coming out of the front door.

Hastily, Mulder whispered, "The Sheriff and Mary are an item according to
Deputy Sullivan."

Scully looked startled although she had already suspected that the two were
closer than cop and victim, and commented thoughtfully, "It sounds as though
an impartial party should take over this investigation, given all the
conflicts of interest evident here."

Knowing his partner, Mulder knew she would work on doing just that when she
got back to the Sheriff's office.  Again, he knew intellectually and
professionally that she was right, but it only made him more anxious to
resolve his son's....God, he couldn't believe he could say those words yet -
he mentally rolled the word "son" around in his mind for a few seconds, then
continued the thought...resolve his son's problem before he didn't have
access to him anymore.

No longer looking laid-back, Sheriff Vernon tersely said, "Let's go," and led
the way to the car.  Mulder waited until he and Scully had driven off and
turned the corner at the intersection, then he strode up to the door and
rapped on it urgently.

He heard Mary's footsteps approach the door.  She hesitated for a moment,
then the locks were opened and the door swung inward a few inches.

"What do you want?"  Her expression was guarded.

"To talk."

There was a long moment of hesitation, then she said, "Look, I realize you'll
come in here anyway if you decide that's what you want, and there's nothing I
could do to stop you.  But I don't want David upset."

Mulder didn't say anything, simply waited patiently.

Finally she stepped back and let him past her.

"Where is he?" was the first thing he said.  The house was too silent.  The
lights were on in all the downstairs rooms but there was no sign of David.

"Playing."  She shrugged.

Feeling a flutter of anxiety in his stomach he turned to her and demanded, "I
want to see that he's all right."

With a mixture of fear and defiance, she admitted, "He isn't here."

"What?!" he said, maybe a little too loudly.  "Where could he have gone in
those ten minutes we were outside?"

She just licked her lips and backed away from him.

Raw fear for his child exploded in his mind as Mulder lost his composure.
 Throwing his forearm across her throat and grabbing her wrists in his other
hand, he shoved her roughly against the nearby wall and pressed his body
against hers.  He knew his behavior was bordering on criminal assault - hell,
it *was* criminal assault - but he was beyond being able to stop it.

"I warned you what would happen if you harmed him," he rasped.  "Now tell me,
where is he?"

She struggled but he was too close for her to maneuver, and he simply shoved
harder against her throat.  Her expression reflected her terror as she began
to fight to breathe.  When he saw that she was trying to speak, he relaxed
his forearm to give her some air.

Wincing when she swallowed, Mary said, "Fox, I wouldn't hurt David.  I love
him more than my own life.  He's only next door with Jason and his new
puppy."

"Show me," he demanded.

"You can look out the back window and see them playing."

He kept hold of one wrist and yanked her along with him as he strode to the
kitchen and peered out the window.  David and another boy, presumably Jason,
could be clearly seen in the well-lighted back yard next door laughing and
playing with a small black dog.  Currently the young pup was enthusiastically
licking David's face as he lay giggling on his back in the grass.

Mulder took a deep breath in relief and turned to Mary at the same time he
felt the sharp point of a knife press against his ribs.  Fuck.  He had
underestimated her, knowing what she was capable of.  Any idiot would have
realized there would be knives lying around a kitchen.  She could just say
that Mulder had broken in and had threatened her with his gun again, and she
had to protect herself.  What was one more murder to her?

But she surprised him by backing away, putting the table between them.  The
carving knife clattered from her shaking hands to the table-top.

Her voice was strained as she asked, "Now tell me why you seem to be sure
that I'm going to harm David?"

Certain that she was playing some kind of game with him and impatient with
this pretense of ignorance, Mulder wearily replied, "You hired Lobell because
you want to marry Tyler."

It took a moment for Mary to make any sense out of what Mulder had said, then
her face grew pale.  "Oh, no.  My God, I wouldn't....You've got everything
wrong."  She sank into a chair at the table, looking even paler.

At Mulder's unbelieving stare, she forcefully said, "Matt told me that the
man who took David and murdered those other children had been killed, and I
was surprised to find out who it was.  Lobell never struck me as anyone who
would escalate into actually killing anyone.  He was a pervert who preyed on
kids, and that's bad enough, but I wouldn't have thought he would go to that
extreme."

What about Tyler?"

"What about him?  He's been after me to marry him but I keep telling him no.
 It's Matt I love, and who would make a great father for David." 

"I'm supposed to believe this shit? How many people could have had a
connection to Lobell and also had an  interest in getting rid of your son..."
 Mulder shook his head when he realized the obvious answer.  As Sheriff, Matt
Vernon would have dealt with Lobell when he had been arrested, charged, tried
and released. Also, Matt wanted to wed Mary Chandler, who had to be a
millionaire many times over.  But why would he want to get David out of the
way, especially by murdering him?

"How is your money set up?  Is David involved?"

"Yes, he is.  I can't touch most of it because I had it placed in a trust in
David's name."

"Does Sheriff Vernon know that?"

She nodded with a stricken look, seeing where he was going with this.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face trying to think what to do.  If
she had told the truth, the Sheriff may have guided the serial killer in an
attempt to get rid of David for better access to Mary's wealth after
marriage.  That still left the string of dead husbands on Mary's head.  David
looked to be in serious danger no matter which way things developed.

All he could see to do at the moment was to take custody of David and protect
him until things were resolved to some degree and he was out of danger.

"Mary, my partner and I need to keep David for a while to make sure he's
safe.  If you told me the truth, the killer may very well make another
attempt on his life.  If you were lying, you shouldn't care what happens to
him anyway."

She sat there with a weary, vulnerable look on her face while he felt a rush
of guilt at seeing the angry mark on her throat he had caused.

"You're not going to leave here without him, are you?" she asked with a
defeated air.  "I
remember now how you were when you were on a case;  how you would be so
single minded and ruthless once you caught the scent.  No sleeping or eating
until you brought him down."  With a quirk to the corner of her mouth, she
added, "Fucking, though, you could always fit into your schedule, as I
recall."

Mulder blinked at the comment, but kept his expression noncommittal.
 Nonetheless, he felt a warmth infuse his face and knew he was blushing.

"Understand one thing, Agent Mulder," she suddenly said in a firm voice.  He
noticed that she had picked up the knife and was gripping it tightly in her
hand.  "He's mine.  Do you understand?  He's my child and not yours even if
you contributed to the conception.  If you take him, you had better bring him
back to me or I can make you sorry you were ever born."  Her determined gaze
held his eyes for a full minute.  Mulder was shocked to realize that the
thought of keeping David had indeed been hovering, unformed, in the back of
his mind.

"Whatever is safest for David," he murmured.

"As determined by whom?" she demanded.

He slammed his fist down onto the counter top.  "I don't know, goddammit!
 However it plays out."  A long look between them and she finally slumped
back into the chair, hatred for him and the position into which he was
forcing her clear to read on her face.

And in response, Mulder's fingers itched to slap her, even strangle her for
what she had taken from him.  He was horrified at this reaction, this need to
respond with violence.  He found himself saying, "You took him from me.  My
own child.  And you acted as if I should just shrug my shoulders and walk
away from the whole thing.  Forget there's a little boy who looks like me,
who owes half his genetic makeup to me, and who can nearly pull my heart out
of my chest with a look.  'What he doesn't know won't hurt him' has
apparently been your philosophy."

She had turned her head away from his agony, whether from indifference or
from guilt, he didn't know.

He made an effort to control his emotions and at last said, "While I phone my
partner, could you get David to come into the house?  Don't go outside,
though.  He can hear you from the window."

He removed his cel phone from a coat pocket, punched buttons, and watched
while Mary did as he asked.  He heard Scully's voice from the phone's
receiver and said, "Scully, meet me at the motel in about half an hour and
don't tell the anyone that I called, or where you're going.  It's urgent."

There was a moment of silence, then she replied, "This had better be good."

He felt a flare of annoyance at her remark which seemed to say, "You're just
a nut-case, Mulder, and I have to humor you since you're my partner."  He
disconnected without saying anything more, afraid he would really screw
things up with her.  And he knew he was being unreasonable since she was just
reacting to his own brusqueness and penchant for stretching the regulations a
little more than usual lately.

David came in through the back kitchen door and unzipped his jacket in the
warmth of the house.  He stopped dead in his tracks though, when he saw
Mulder standing in the room.  Once he recognized the agent, he gave him a
sweet smile.

Mulder was struck by how the boy still opened himself up to strangers even
after the frightening time spent with Lobell.  There had to have been damage
done to his young mind and soul, but he was apparently healing and keeping
the bad parts shoved deep down.  The thought occurred to him that these were
normally signs of a basically secure and loved child, but that would be at
odds with his theory about Mary.  Maybe Scully was right about someone else
needing to be handling this case.  But David was *his* son and Mulder had to
assure his safety.

He gave David a smile in return and waited for his mother to explain what
would be happening. When David heard that he would need to stay with the
federal agents for a little while, his whole body froze as though he were
afraid to move or breathe.  Reasoning with him didn't even make him blink.

Mulder moved over next to Mary and knelt on one knee in front of David.

"David, it would only be for a little while and it's only to keep you safe.
 You know that FBI agents are the good guys, right?"  Mulder grinned at him,
hoping that the boy would never have to find out that the statement wasn't
completely true.

A quiet voice came from the boy, saying, "Can I see your badge?"

He hadn't expected that.  But he solemnly withdrew his ID from an inside
pocket of his suit coat and handed it to the boy.

David's small hands caressed the worn leather of the folder for a few
moments, and then there was a quiet intake of breath when he saw the splendor
of the shield.  He studied it briefly, then a forefinger tentatively traced
the ridges of the hard metal as though he could read its mysteries through
touch.  Finally satisfied with whatever truths his explorations gave him, he
turned his attention to the ID card below.

He looked from the photo to the solid reality of the man before him, then
back down to the photo.  David thoughtfully tapped the signature with his
finger, ran it up the side of the card back to the badge, then closed the ID
case.  He held it out towards Mulder with a gravity that seemed to say that
he understood the heavy responsibility this piece of paper and metal placed
on the agent's shoulders.

David looked up at his mother and asked, "Mom, can you go with us?"  His
voice held just the slightest quaver.

Mulder caught the swift questioning glance from her and silently shook his
head.

Huskily she answered him, "No, honey, but I'll be right here and we'll talk
on the phone as often as you like."  His arms reached for her and she hugged
him tightly for a long few minutes.

Mulder felt like a sick sadist.  It was obvious that David loved his mother
with all his heart, with no reservations.  And he was separating them, right
after the kid had gone through hell with that murderer Lobell.  He
strengthened his resolve by thinking that some of the worst killers he had
captured had families with children who adored their parents.  Maybe love
*was* blind.  But he still felt shitty about the whole thing.

He accompanied them when they went upstairs to pack the boy's clothes.  She
seemed to be cooperating, but Mulder didn't trust anyone very far.  Except
for Scully.  No matter how irritated they became with each other, the trust
was there.

His duffle bag packed, David looked around for something and finally found
his old brown bear on the floor on the far side of his bed.  When he picked
it up and looked at Mulder through his eyelashes, obviously unsure whether it
would label him a "baby" to bring his bear with him, Mulder's heart melted.
 Again.

"What's his name?" he asked.

>From behind the bear's head, a muffled "George" reached his ears.

Mary said, "He used to love the "Curious George" books and when he got the
bear, he wanted it to have the same name as the monkey in the books."

"Well, David and George, let's get going."  Mulder turned and headed out of
the room, a smile hidden from the boy.  He didn't want him to think he was
making fun of him.  Hell, he had kept his own bear with him in bed until he
was nearly eleven.  Not that there's anything wrong with that, he joked to
himself.  He helped with the duffle bag when they reached the stairs and were
soon at the front door.  He noticed that the pain in his shoulder was
returning with a vengeance.

"Bye, David," Mary said as she gave him a fierce hug and kiss.  David hugged
her back, holding on a little longer than normal.  Fighting back tears, he
followed Mulder out to the car, his head down all the way.

Fine, the agent thought.  This is good practice for my part-time job when I
retire.  Yeah...I could club little white baby seals to death on the ice.
 Aloud, he said, "Can I help you with the seat belt?"

David shook his head, busy with the intricacies of the belt while not letting
go of his death grip on George.  Finally there was a metallic click and they
were on their way.


Sheriff's office
7:50 PM

Scully looked at her watch and realized she had to leave right away if she
didn't want to be late meeting her partner at the motel.  She had gone to the
Sheriff's office and had just finished making her statement on the death of
Lobell to the Portland SAIC, Paul Gregory, who had come in to personally take
over the investigation.  With two agents injured and the alleged serial
killer dead, he wanted hands-on involvement from here on out.  Scully was
glad, as it solved the conflicts of interest problems without placing her in
the position for Mulder to accuse her of "selling him out."

She had to tell Mulder that Gregory had flatly refused to consider that there
was a "mastermind" involved with the serial killings other than Lobell.  What
he said boiled down to the opinion that Mulder's reputation for "spooky"
profiles was overrated, that small children's accounts of traumatic
experiences were often proven false, and that he felt there was no further
threat to the child in question.  Period.  No further arguments.

He completely ignored her protestations and requests for support in the
further investigation of her partner's theories.

Not bothering to argue with the man any further, she promised that Mulder
would come by first thing in the morning to turn in his statement.  Scully
then asked one if the agents who had accompanied Gregory to Willows if she
would drive her over to the motel since Mulder still had their rental.
 Special Agent Sarah Goldberg, a tall, willowy brunette with very green eyes,
gladly agreed since she was off duty and was headed to the same place.  They
were soon pulling into the motel's parking lot.

Scully saw that Mulder's car was there this time and thanked Agent Goldberg
for the lift.

"Do you think I could meet Agent Mulder?  I've heard so much about him."

Oh, great, Scully thought.  A Muldergroupie.  She stood outside the car with
Agent Goldberg and asked, "Which room are you staying in?  We can stop by for
a few minutes later.  Right now we have some business to go over on this
case."

"Room 108," she smilingly answered.  "See you later, then."

Scully walked to Mulder's door, realizing that Sarah Goldberg's room was
immediately to the left of Mulder's, and hers was on the right.  A Federal
Agent sandwich, with Mulder as the tasty filling.  God, I must be tired; my
thinking has gone into "stupid" mode.

She rapped her knuckles on the door to Room 110 and called out, "Mulder, it's
me."  It took a little longer for him to answer the door than usual and she
was about to knock again when the door was suddenly pulled open.  She saw
that Mulder's tie was loosened, his coat was off  and his shirt sleeves were
rolled up.  Although he looked tired, he had a sparkle about his eyes that
hadn't been there earlier.

"Scully!  I'm glad you're here."  He moved back into the room and revealed
David sitting on one of the beds holding a large stuffed bear and sipping a
Coke.

"Hi," the child calmly said.  But she could tell he was a little nervous as
he put
his drink down on the bedside table and clutched the bear closer to his
chest.

She responded with a "hi" of her own, threw in a big smile, and then turned
to Mulder, her eyes asking him what the hell was going on here?

Mulder, to his credit, didn't try to weasel his way around the issue or make
excuses for what he had done.  He simply left her holding the bag.

"Scully, could you keep an eye on him for awhile?  I have to run out a
minute," he said as he shrugged into his coat.  He winced with the pain in
his shoulder, which didn't get past his partner.

She did something out of character, then.  Scully moved to the door and stood
in front of it, looking determined.

"Mulder, stop.  Tell me what's going on first, and then I've got some new
developments to tell you about.  And why haven't you been taking the pain
pills?"

"Shit, I keep forgetting the damn pills."  He rummaged around in his pocket
and came up with a couple of plastic pill bottles.  He shook a capsule from
each and looked around for a glass.  A tug on his sleeve and he looked down
to see David, offering his partially-consumed Coke for him to drink with the
pills.

"Thanks," Mulder said, accepting the can.

David nodded and returned to the bed, eyes alertly watching the two agents as
he kept a stranglehold on George.

Mulder took the capsules and told David they would be right outside the door
for a minute to talk.  He motioned for her to open the door and they stepped
just beyond the threshold before he turned to her and said, "I've found out
that Mary is expecting Sheriff Vernon to ask her to marry him any day.  She
said that her money is mostly in David's name through a trust she set up, so
neither she nor Vernon could touch it...unless David were to die."

After digesting this, Scully said, "So the Sheriff could be the one who
guided Lobell to David so he could get rid of him, clearing the way to Mary's
money?"

"Exactly.  But I still think that Mary is the guilty party and is using the
Sheriff for covering her tracks.  The story about the trust may not even be
true.  Anyway, I talked her into letting me take David into protective
custody temporarily."

"What about the husbands you say she has murdered?  Could we have two killers
here?"

He was about to reply when they heard, "Why, you must be the famous Fox
Mulder!  I'm Agent Sarah Goldberg, from the Bureau's Portland Office."

Goldberg stood expectantly next to Mulder, holding an empty ice bucket.  She
had changed to a tee shirt with no bra and black tights, Scully noticed.  The
figure she displayed even made Scully's jaw drop, and she was afraid to think
what it was doing to her partner.

It took him all of two seconds to figure out that this woman was gorgeous and
probably not averse to getting to know him a lot better.  Make that a *whole*
lot better.  He heard Scully clear her throat and say, with an odd tone in
her voice, "Agent Goldberg gave me a lift from the Sheriff's office.  She
told me that she wanted to...meet you."

Mulder wisely said, "Ahhh, I was just about to go out.  Maybe we could see
you in the morning?  Agent Chan is supposed to come by at 8:00 and we're
going to breakfast."

"Sure.  It's a date," she said, and sauntered past them on her way to the ice
machine.

Mulder pursed his lips and watched her retreating figure thoughtfully.
 Scully's voice broke his reverie, however.

"Where were you going, Mulder?"

"Hmm?  Oh, to see the Sheriff."

"You're not going to confront him tonight about all this, are you?" she asked
in concern.

(Continued in Part 6)



DAVID      (6/7)
by Gerry Hill
(GHill52695@aol.com)


Turning his full attention back to Scully, he said, "Well, yes, I thought
that we needed to see what he has to say for himself."

"Mulder, the SAIC has taken over the Sheriff's office and our case.  He wants
you to give him your statement first thing in the morning.  He will
absolutely not entertain the notion that there is another person involved
with Lobell in the killings.  I have the feeling that he's out to pin you to
the wall, and you should probably stay away from that office until you have
no choice but to report to him." Since she usually let him fend for himself
when it came to dealing with local Bureau heads, he was inclined to take this
rarely offered advice.

He sighed and followed her back into the room.  David had turned on the
television and was watching something like a cheetah ripping another animal
to shreds.  Ah, the glories of the Discovery Channel.  Mulder positioned his
body between the tv and the boy, saying, "It's getting late.  What time do
you normally go to bed?"

Innocently looking up at the tall man, David said, "Mom lets me stay up as
long as I want."

Grinning, the agent said, "Good.  You can watch some great old movies with
me.  They're on all night."

David's eyes grew big with the thought of actually staying up all night long.

Scully had heard enough.

"Bath time!"  Ignoring the moans, she went into Mulder's bathroom and turned
on the faucet to fill the tub.  When she returned, Scully announced, "Mulder,
I'll leave the bathing duties to you.  Then he needs to go to bed...to
SLEEP," she added.  "I'm going to my room and take my own bath."

Scully heard some muttering as she walked through the adjoining doors, but
ignored whatever Mulder was complaining about.  She heard snatches of "never
draws *my* bath" and smiled at the familiar complaint.

If she could have tapped into Mulder's mind just then she would have found
him thinking of what a good mother Scully could have been and feeling sad
that she would probably never have that kind of life.  Not as long as she
associated with him and the X Files.

When she had finished her bath and was ready for bed an hour later, the
silence radiating from their room got her attention.  Not even the blare of
the television could be heard.  And Mulder *always* had it running late into
the night.

Carefully opening the door, she peeked into the room and couldn't believe
what she saw. 
Stretched out on a bed was her partner wearing his old ratty sweats, sound
asleep.  Curled up against his chest was little David, also sound asleep,
with a thumb in his mouth, still hanging on to his bear.  He was wearing
"Star Wars" pajamas and his hair was slightly damp from the bath.  Scully
remembered that her camera was in her luggage, quickly retrieved it, and got
the picture.  They didn't move a muscle when the flash went off.  She smiled,
replaced the camera in her luggage, and went to bed.


1:45am

The sound of her cel phone ringing gradually pulled Scully up from a deep
slumber.  She groggily patted the surface of the bedside table until her hand
came in contact with it.  Her "Hello?" was the best she could do until the
fog lifted from her brain.

"Agent Scully.  I'm sorry to have awakened you, but I've come across
something that tells me who Lobell's mysterious partner may have been.  Could
you and Agent Mulder come over to my office right away?"  Sheriff Vernon's
voice was strained and he didn't sound happy.  

"Um, I need to get dressed." Scully said, as she swung her legs over the side
of the bed.

"Sorry about this, but I really didn't think it should be left until morning
."

"Have you shared this information with Paul Gregory or his staff?"

"No."

"OK.  Be there in twenty minutes or so."

Scully thought for a moment, wary of this whole scenario.  It could be a trap
if her suspicions about the Sheriff were correct.

She checked to see if the phone had awakened Mulder or David.  By the light
from her lamp shining through the connecting door and by the light of the
full moon she could clearly see the two slumbering people.  Mulder was curled
on his side around David, who was curled around George.  This must have been
the most sleep her partner had gotten in quite awhile.

Making a decision, she gently closed the door and quickly pulled on her
jeans, sweatshirt, socks and tennis shoes.  Before slipping into her jacket
she fastened the FBI-issue holster to its usual spot at her waist and felt
the comforting heaviness of her gun as it settled into its leather cradle.
  Scully quietly stepped out of the warm room into the cold night air, walked
down to Agent Goldberg's room and tapped on the door.

It took a minute, but the tousled and sexy agent, gun held at her side,
peered sleepily through a one-inch crack before opening the door fully.  She
was just wearing an oversized tee shirt.  She rubbed her eyes with a free
hand and asked, "What's going on?"

"Agent Mulder's...occupied, and I need a backup.  I can explain on the way."

Mulder halfway awoke when he heard several doors close nearby, then woke up
even more when he heard voices outside near his door.  One of them sounded
like Scully.  He looked at the glowing digital numbers on the clock by the
bed and saw that it was around 2:00 am, which was a weird time for her to be
up and about.

Then he nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized there was something in
the bed with him.  Two seconds later he calmed down when he saw it was his
son.  His heart clenched with the emotion that swept over him at the sight of
the sleeping boy.  He was intensely aware of the warmth of the small body
next to his and he gently kissed the top of his head.  The silky soft hair
was clean and smelled of soap.

Reluctantly, he backed carefully out of bed, hissing at the sudden pain in
his shoulder the movement caused, and went to the window to see what Scully
was up to.  He saw her getting into a car with someone who looked like Agent
Goldberg.

"What the hell?" he muttered, as he stepped out onto the freezing cold
concrete walkway.  They were already driving off, and he couldn't very well
go running barefoot through the cold night after them, leaving David all
alone.

"Dammit!"  He went back inside and called the motel office, asking them to
ring Agent Chan's room number.  Mulder had to identify himself and argue for
a minute or two, but finally could hear the phone ringing.

"Yeah?" a very sleep-befuddled voice said.

"Agent Chan.  This is Fox Mulder.  Could you come over to my room?  It's 110.
 I have kind of an emergency."

Sounding alert now, Agent Chan replied, "Of course.  I'll be there in a few
minutes."

Mulder hung up and searched for his cel phone, finally finding it next to the
remote control for the television.  He hit Scully's number and crossed his
fingers that she had it turned on.

"Scully."

"Scully, what the hell is going on?  Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry, Mulder.  Did I wake you?  Sheriff Vernon called me.  He says that
he has proof on who is behind the serial child murders.  Agent Goldberg and I
are meeting him at his office.  I knew you couldn't leave David, and thought
you were sleeping."

He was struggling to put his socks and shoes on his feet and tie the laces as
he spoke with her.  His shoulder was killing him every time he moved his arms
which made dressing very difficult.  Damn, he thought.  Those pills I took
aren't doing a hell of a lot of good this time.  With his suit pants on and
his unbuttoned shirt hanging open on his chest he said, "I'm on my way.
 Agent Chan is going to look after David."  He hoped.

There was a tap on the door.  "Be there in a few minutes," he said into the
phone, and abruptly disconnected.  He couldn't take the chance that Scully
wasn't walking into a trap and he had to get to her and provide backup.  If
necessary, he'd bribe Agent Chan to watch David.

As it turned out, that wasn't necessary.  Agent Chan loved kids and had three
of his own.  Although initially surprised by the unusual request, he happily
settled in to guard the "witness."  The only thing he asked was for Agent
Mulder to fill him in a little more thoroughly when he got the time as to
what was going on.

Mulder was in the car and racing out of the parking lot before the
babysitting agent had finished securing the locks on the door.


Sheriff's Office

There was a fine drizzle falling by the time Agent Goldberg parked about a
block away from the office.  Both agents held their weapons at the ready, not
knowing what to expect.  Scully had filled Goldberg in about Mulder's
theories and it didn't hurt to proceed with caution.

"Shit," Goldberg said in a low voice as they walked toward the office.  "This
stuff is changing to sleet.  Watch your step."

Scully's eyes swept across the area ahead of them and in the glow of
streetlights could see that everything was taking on a glossy sheen.

They managed to reach the building which housed the Sheriff's office without
falling, although their feet slipped several times on the treacherous
footing.

Scully indicated with her hand that she would enter low with her weapon out,
and Agent Goldberg should follow her, giving her cover.  Nothing in her
manner gave away the fact that she had a bad feeling about the whole
situation.  Goldberg nodded and moved in behind Scully.

The entry area by the front counter appeared to be deserted in the dim
lighting.  The two agents could see a glow coming from the interior of the
building, however, and quickly moved through the door behind the counter.
 Scully turned left toward the brightness of the Sheriff's office, but the
attack came from the darkness behind them, where the federal "command center"
had been established.

A high-powered rifle round slammed through Agent Goldberg's torso and clipped
Agent Scully's head on its way to a final location in the far wall.  A
significant amount of blood began to pool on the floor where the two women
lay.  Footsteps cautiously approached and stopped next to Goldberg, who was
still alive and whose vision was filled with the sight of a khaki pant leg.
 The image began to blur as her heart slowed and her breathing stopped, and
finally she was swallowed up in silent blackness.

Fox Mulder was having a hell of a time on the slippery roadway.  He nearly
took out several parked cars downtown as he realized just how slick the
surface had gotten in a matter of minutes.  He finally stopped fighting the
vehicle and let it slide lopsidedly across two parking spots near the
Sheriff's office.  He tried to keep from landing on his rump when he exited
the car by holding desperately onto the door.  His shoes wanted to head two
different directions at once, it seemed.

 Then his head jerked as he heard the unmistakable report of a rifle shot.
 He grabbed his cel phone with one hand while hanging onto the car with the
other and called 911, then dropped the phone, yanked his gun free of its
holster and pushed off toward the front door.

Finding that he could make the slick surfaces work to his advantage, Mulder
pushed himself off from a light pole and slid a good distance before having
to carefully shuffle the rest of the way.  He made it to the door and held
his gun ready as he entered the now-silent office.

"Scully!" he called out, sick with worry over the remembered sound of the
rifle shot.  At hearing no response, he threw himself into the hallway beyond
the entry area, nearly tripping over something.  He saw two bodies sprawled
on the vinyl-covered floor, recognizing Agent Goldberg as the nearest one.
 He realized that he was standing in her blood, but ignored that fact.  He
was intent on the second body, knowing it had to be Scully.  He stifled the
urge to gag at the coppery smell of the blood in the hall, then squatted and
felt for a pulse in Goldberg's neck.  Nothing.

He quickly stepped over the dead agent's body and knelt by his partner's
side, aghast at all the blood around her head.  When a faint pulse in her
neck throbbed against his hand, a breath he had unconsciously been holding
was freed from his lungs in a rush.  Feeling around for the wound, he found a
nasty furrow in her scalp just above the temple area, but it didn't look
fatal.  Mulder bowed his head and blinked back tears of relief.

The wailing sound of an ambulance could be heard in the distance, and he sent
them mental messages to hurry up.  Considering the icy conditions, he figured
they were doing pretty well, actually.  He miraculously found a clean
handkerchief in his pocket and pressed it to Scully's still- bleeding wound.
 With his other hand he absently stroked her hair, trying to give comfort
where he could.

The EMTs finally arrived, along with the local police and a sheriff's deputy
named Blaine.  Mulder had to go through time-consuming explanations while
anxiously keeping an eye on his partner.  Since the Sheriff was not in the
office and couldn't be reached by radio or phone, he assumed that Vernon was
probably involved in all this, but kept his opinions to himself for the time
being.

While they were loading Scully's gurney into the ambulance, Mulder recovered
his cel phone from where he had dropped it by the car and called Paul
Gregory.  The SAIC was not happy to be awakened at 3:00 in the morning, and
then to find out one of his agents was dead and another agent seriously
wounded...Gregory demanded that Mulder brief him the minute he arrived at the
Sheriff's office, and for Mulder to get Agent Chan to come to the office as
well.  Mulder simply disconnected without replying, his eyes wide with the
growing certainty that the killer was probably going after David next.  After
all, the reasons for getting rid of him still existed.  But if the Sheriff
were the killer, why would he call two FBI agents to their deaths?  To get
rid of the ones who were beginning to figure out what was going on?  Maybe
Mary told Vernon what we suspected.  She loved him, after all.

His agonized look at the departing ambulance spoke volumes.  He wanted to go
with his partner, to make sure she was all right, and to reassure her of his
support.  But David, his son, could be in immediate danger...And Scully would
never forgive him if he went with her and something happened to the child.

His decision made, Mulder threw himself into the driver's seat, turned on the
ignition and drove like a madman back to the motel.  Luckily the sleet had
stopped falling and the temperature had increased enough so that most of the
ice was gone or he would have never made it.  With all he had seen in his
career, it was way too easy to image the horror of a broken little body from
which the life had fled.  With this mental image, Mulder's knuckles were
white on the steering wheel.  If either Scully or David were to die, Mulder
knew he wouldn't be able to deal with it.

During the drive he somehow managed to ring Agent Chan, telling him not to
answer the phone or door until his arrival, and to keep his weapon ready.

After driving for what seemed to be a week but only lasted five minutes,
Mulder saw the turn for the motel.  Wincing at the protesting pain in his
shoulder, he yanked the steering wheel into a turn and slammed to a stop near
his room.

He knew that Gregory had to be brought into this at some point.  Mulder
needed help.  He would start with Chan and then figure it out as he went
along, hoping not to screw it all up and get everyone killed in the process.

The door to his room opened before he reached it and Agent Chan stepped out,
holding his finger up to his lips.

"He's asleep and I thought we could talk out here."

Mulder, not prone to trusting anyone, pushed past Chan and peered into the
dimly lit room.  David's small form was on the nearest bed and his face was
turned toward the door.  The child  seemed to be sleeping soundly.  His bear
had fallen to the floor and he took a moment to return it to David's side.

Mulder turned, looked his thanks at the agent and motioned toward the car.
 They sat down in the front seats which faced the only entry to the room
where David lay sleeping.   Agent Chan then got the full story from Mulder,
except for the part where David was his son.

"We need to move the boy to a safer place than this motel," Agent Chan
observed.

Surprised that the agent accepted his story so readily, Mulder replied, "I
agree, but where?"

"I could take him down to Portland while you protect your partner.  He may
try again if he finds out that she's still alive."

Feeling the wave of indecision again, Mulder really didn't know whether to go
to Scully and leave David to Agent Chan, an unknown factor, or stay with
David and have the agent cover Scully's back, but again, he was an unknown
factor and may or may not be reliable.

Then it all became academic as a sheriff's car pulled into the empty parking
space on their right.  It was too dark to see who was in the vehicle.

Oh, God, if it's the Sheriff... Mulder's thoughts were chaotic as he tried to
think what to do to keep him from David.  He was suddenly aware of the cold,
heavy feel of his weapon in his hand and didn't even remember drawing it out
of the holster.  Carefully exiting the car, he told Chan to keep down and
follow his lead.  Whatever the hell *that* might be.

But it wasn't Sheriff Vernon who got out of the official car and walked over
to the agents: It was Deputy Sullivan.  Mulder re-holstered his gun and
walked around the car to meet him, feeling relieved that he wouldn't be
confronting the Sheriff just yet.  He wanted to work from a safer and
stronger base than this exposed motel.

"Agents Mulder and Chan.  I was looking for you at the office.  Well, for
that matter, so was everyone else."  He raised an eyebrow in silent question.

Ignoring the latter part of his comment, Mulder asked, "What's up?"

Then the world crashed in around him as the deputy shoved a gun into his ribs
and said, "Your hands."  As he removed Mulder's weapon he called to Chan to
throw his gun on the ground and to unlock the motel room.

Both agents stood unmoving, not wanting to bring this danger to the sleeping
boy inside.

Angry, Sullivan said, "I would have no compunction whatever in killing you
both and then the child, so do what I say."

Chan carefully took the motel key out of his pocket and turned toward the
door, and Mulder whispered, "No."  The agent hesitated, uncertain, but
Sullivan jabbed the barrel of his weapon hard into Mulder's side and said,
"Do it or I pull this trigger."

"He'll kill us anyway; don't help him kill David, too."  Mulder's distress
was clear even in the dimly-lit night and Chan took a long moment before
making his choice.

The door lock gave easily and the three big men were soon crowding the small
motel room, looking down at the still-sleeping child.  David's dark lashes
lay on his smooth cheeks and his breathing quietly rushed through parted
lips.  His innocence practically glowed in the dim room.

"There's the little bastard," Sullivan breathed, looking satisfied.  He
glanced up at the two agents and smiled.

Mulder, sick with fear for David, asked, "Why?  You can't escape, so why?"
 He was desperately trying to think of a way to divert the man from hurting
or taking his son.

"Oh, I'll escape all right.  You see, everyone will think that the Sheriff is
the one behind all this, partly thanks to your theories, and mostly thanks to
all the 'evidence' I'm creating."

Mulder just stared at Sullivan, no expression on his face.  Scully would have
seen from his dilated eyes and tense muscles that he was emotionally strung
tight and close to physically expressing his rage, but he miraculously
continued to hold himself in check.

"I used Vernon's rifle on Agents Goldberg and Scully, and this .38 is his,
too.  But I'll use my own gun when I shoot Vernon in 'self-defense' later."
 His tone grew lower as he confided, "I got rid of Mary's lawyer husband, you
know.  So I could have her for myself.  But then Matt came into the picture,
and she went crazy over him."

His expression grew angrier.  He gestured with his gun as he said, "It was
easy to set up David's abduction with Lobell - he had been killing kids for
awhile when I caught on to him.  Anyway, once David was gone and I blamed it
on Vernon, the coast would have been clear with Mary.  But David escaped, and
then *you* had to screw things up even more."  He glared at Mulder and raised
the gun in his hands, aiming it at the agent's head.

Mulder was about to make a last, desperate move by grabbing for the gun when
several things happened at once.  The door suddenly burst open, Agent Chan
kicked a chair into Sullivan's legs, and then the shooting started.  Mulder
threw himself without hesitation onto the bed, covering David, keeping him
shielded with his body as he pulled the boy to the floor.  Then he tried to
reach his ankle weapon while remaining a shield to the child.

It was obvious that David was frightened to death.  Mulder could hear faint
bird-like sounds from beneath his body and the pressure of small hands
pushing at his chest.  Christ, the poor kid was going to be in therapy for
the next forty years at this rate.

The shattering sound of the shots in the enclosed room had left their ears
ringing.  Mulder, ankle gun finally in hand, looked back over his shoulder to
see what had happened.

Sheriff Vernon stood near the door with several law-enforcement men at his
side, all holding weapons.  Mulder noticed that there was blood on the side
of the Sheriff's throat.  Nearer to Mulder, Sullivan lay very dead, flat on
his back, body torn with numerous bullet wounds.  As for Chan, he was leaning
against the wall to his left, holding a hand to one bloody shoulder, damaged
by a bullet he had caught before getting out of the line of fire.  His face
was pale and he was obviously in pain, but Chan astonished Mulder by winking
at him and giving him a smile.  Then he slid to the floor and closed his
eyes, waiting for medical attention.

David abruptly broke free of Mulder's protection and raced directly toward
the Sheriff across the bed  He frantically was calling, "Sheriff Matt!
 Sheriff Matt" as he clumsily ran over the soft, bouncy surface.  He threw
himself into the big man's arms without hesitation, hungry for safety and
comfort.  And Mulder's heart broke.

It hit him then with the force of a baseball bat slamming into his midsection
that David wasn't really his and that he would never know the kind of
relationship with him that Matt Vernon and Mary had.

(Concluded in Part 7)



"DAVID"     (7/7)
by Gerry Hill
(GHill52695@aol.com)


Mulder got to his feet and sat heavily on the bed, letting the activity flow
around him for a time.  He was aware that David had been sent back to Mary
with one of the officers, that photographs had been taken of the crime scene,
that Agent Chan had been whisked off to the hospital in the ambulance, and
that now the SAIC was sitting on the other bed, knee to knee with him.

Paul Gregory was not a happy man.  The case had been solved but not in a way
the bureau liked to see.  The methods had been sloppy, with a loss of life
that was regrettable, and he felt that the man sitting across from him was
largely responsible for this.

"Let me get this straight; you pegged the mother for being behind the
killings, but you say that your partner was more suspicious of Sheriff
Vernon.  You were both wrong and Agent Goldberg was killed, Agents Chan and
Scully wounded, and Sullivan nearly murdered the little boy who had been a
previous victim and who was in your unauthorized custody.  Oh, and lest we
forget, the Sheriff, some of his men, and you yourself nearly died at the
hands of his deputy when Sullivan went on this killing spree because he felt
you were interfering."

Mulder refused to fight back and continued looking at his hands, which lay in
his lap.  His lack of response was beginning to wear on the SAIC.

"I've left a message with your supervisor, AD Walter Skinner.  I'm
recommending that you be suspended without pay indefinitely for
insubordination, conduct unbecoming an agent of the FBI, and possible
criminal charges.  An investigation will be conducted."

That finally got his attention.  He looked up at Gregory with a peculiar
expression, saying, "An investigation?"  He was thinking that a close
scrutiny would probably turn up David's parentage.

"Sir," he earnestly continued, "I took the child into protective custody with
his mother's
permission.  Events support my fears that the killer would go after him
again.  Granted, my partner and I hadn't yet figured out that Deputy Sullivan
was behind all this, but we were getting closer through the investigative
process, just as in any case.  If you're still upset that we didn't report
every detail to you as we went along, well...that isn't the way we work.  If
we did that, none of our cases would ever get solved.  And our solve rate is
the best at the Bureau."

Gregory wanted to break this maverick agent and show him how he should be
conducting himself as a special agent, but only said, "I won't get into an
argument with you, Agent Mulder.  I'll be talking with AD Skinner shortly and
we'll see.  Give me a full report ASAP if you want that considered in our
decision."

Mulder nodded and Gregory went outside to talk with the forensics people.

Sighing, Mulder followed him outside to talk with Sheriff Vernon.  He learned
that Vernon had discovered records of Deputy Sullivan's frequent phone calls
to Lobell, and had tried to confront him about it while waiting for the
agents to show up at his office.  That led to the Deputy bolting and Vernon
trying to locate him.  It had dawned on the Sheriff that the Deputy would
probably go after David, and that's how he showed up in the nick of time.

Mulder wearily told the Sheriff he would stop by in the morning before
leaving for Portland, then drove over to the hospital to see Scully and check
on Agent Chan's condition.  His shoulder was a constant throbbing ache, now.
 He told himself that he really should take the time to get some pills down
before much longer.  A search through his pockets turned up nothing, however.

It was dawn, and it was going to be a beautiful day from the looks of the
cloudless sky.  He parked in the nearly empty lot and walked through the
sliding glass doors to the reception desk.  He bumped his shoulder against a
hurrying orderly on the way and had to stop and recover before moving on.
 The flare of pain was intense for just that moment, then it faded.

But the alert Doctor Daisy had noticed.  She had been making her rounds and
caught Mulder's reaction to the collision.

"Agent Mulder!  You aren't taking the pain pills, are you?"  Her scolding
tone held a note of concern.

Mulder looked down to his side and had to smile at the serious expression on
that lovely face framed by those blond curls.

"I'm fine," he answered, realizing his ironic use of Scully's words as they
fell from his mouth.

"Obviously you are not fine," she sternly replied.  "Come with me."

"I need to see my partner," Mulder protested.  "She was wounded earlier.  Do
you know where I can find Agent Scully?  And Agent Chan?"

Doctor Daisy, seeing that he was determined, said, "I'll take you to see them
myself if you'll just let me give you something to deaden the pain in that
shoulder first.  And I want to take a peek at the bandage."

He gave in, although still anxious to find Scully.

Before he knew it, Doctor Daisy had him undressed from the waist up and was
removing the somewhat bedraggled bandage.  Her stern look when she had the
wounds uncovered prompted him to ask, "What!?" defensively.

"Somehow you've managed to get this infected, even with the antibiotics you
were given.  I need to apply more medicine to the wounds and inject you with
a stronger dose."

He groaned.  To hurry the process along, he impatiently said, "Ok, Ok, just
give it to me now."

He looked up at this point to see Scully standing in the doorway, eyebrows in
the stratosphere, watching the nubile Doctor Daisy helping him pull his pants
down.  

He noticed that his partner wore a jaunty bandage on the upper side of her
head, probably over a shaved patch of scalp.  The bruise from Lobell's boot
was still prominent on her jaw, giving her an abused appearance.  Her eyes
were slightly dilated, but whether that was from her wound, the drugs, or
Mulder being undressed by this young lady, he didn't care to speculate.

"Hi, I was on my way to see you," he informed his partner, while Doctor Daisy
didn't even blink, but kept pursuing her goal.

Scully nodded and dryly commented, "I see."

Having relieved him of his trousers, the doctor put an arm around his waist
and turned him toward the examining table.  "Bend over and pull your boxers
down a bit."

She took a very large hypodermic from the nearby tray, stuck the needle into
a bottle of yellow liquid, sucked it up into the syringe, and announced
cheerfully, "Are you ready?"

At the sight of the needle, Mulder's stomach knotted up, but he bravely
turned, bared some prime real estate, and closed his eyes.  He supposed that
Scully was getting an eyeful and...ouch!  Damn, that hurt.

Scully had, indeed, been getting an eyeful and fought to keep her expression
forbidding.  Poor Mulder hated hospitals and needles, but most of the time he
brought it on himself.  And it wasn't sympathy for him she felt as she
watched his nearly naked body bent over the table.  She mentally slapped
herself and reminded her wayward hormones that he was off-limits.  It was
only recently that she had noticed this tendency of hers to be very aware of
her partner in the physical sense.  Besides, he was so immersed in this
latest emotionally draining case that any personal feelings on either of
their parts were unthinkable.

And she wasn't about to tell him that Doctor Daisy hadn't needed to inject
him in the butt at all.  By the time Mulder turned, boxers hiked back up, she
had smothered the smile and again looked composed.

The doctor turned to Scully and said, "I need to clean the wounds and
re-dress them.  I'll be just a few more minutes and then he's all yours."
 There was a wry humor in her expression that clearly said 'I know he belongs
to you, but I want to enjoy him a little longer.'  Scully knew she was
probably thinking no such thing, but that's what it looked like.  So she
smiled at the doctor and quietly closed the door on them.

When Mulder burst out of the room about ten minutes later, she could see that
he was looking for her with a desperate air.  A relieved grin graced his face
when he spotted her sitting on a chair near the far wall.  His walk was a
little stiff-looking, she noticed, and when he sat down in the chair next to
her, it was done very gingerly.

He took her hand in his and leaned over the gap between chairs.  His eyes
searched hers as he asked, "How are you doing, Scully?"  His concern was
coming off him in waves.  Although Scully was used to the routine violation
of her personal space by her partner, she was a little taken aback by the
concern radiating from him now.  And she suspected that a lot of his concern
originated from his guilt in not being there for her until now.

"I'm OK; all patched up.  But where were you, Mulder?"  She couldn't keep all
the hurt from her voice, although she tried.

Still holding her hand, he said, "Ah, just the usual, Scully.  Getting shot
at, catching the bad guy..."

At her questioning look, he told her the whole story, noting her astonishment
when he got to Sullivan's part in the unfolding tale.

"So we were both wrong on who was behind the serial murders!"  She was
astonished by his revelation, not having given the deputy a thought in
relation to the case.  And for Mulder to miss the mark so widely was
unthinkable.

Mulder hung his head.  "You were right, though, Scully, about my wanting to
blame Mary, to punish her for what she did to me.  That attitude blinded me
to any other possibilities.  Now that it's over, I can stand back and see
what an ass I was, accusing her of every crime possible."  He looked back up
into Scully's eyes and added, "Sullivan said he killed Tony Parker, her
husband here in Willows."

She saw instantly what that might mean to Mulder.  If Mary hadn't killed her
third husband, the previous two deaths may have been accidents.  Scully knew
that he didn't want to believe that Mary could have murdered anyone,
especially if David had to remain in her care.

"Gregory is suspending me and initiating an investigation into my conduct on
this case," he abruptly said in a dead voice.  "He's pissed off at me for not
working closer and coordinating with him.  I need to get a report prepared so
he can use it when he talks with Skinner."  He stared deeply into her eyes
and added, "But I can't let him discover my connection to David."

She wondered suddenly, with all the things that kept happening in his life,
how he managed to stay relatively sane.  She knew he wasn't nearly as worried
about the threatened suspension and investigation as much as having to
ultimately leave David, his son, when he returned to his so-called normal
existence.

"OK, then let's go get it done.  We'll talk with Skinner ourselves, too,
before turning it over to Gregory.  It'll be all right, Mulder."  She stood
up and pulled on his wrist until he reluctantly got to his feet as well.

As they started for the exit door, Mulder suddenly stopped in his tracks and
Scully ran into him with an "ooof!"

"Sorry.  I forgot to go see Agent Chan and find out how he's coming along.
 He was shot during the melee at the motel."

At the front admissions counter, however, they discovered that Chan had just
gone into surgery for the removal of the bullet that was lodged in his upper
chest.  Scully managed to find a doctor who knew about the case and they were
relieved to be told that everything was expected to go OK for the wounded
agent, since the bullet hadn't hit anything vital.   They decided to try and
check on Chan in the morning before returning to Washington, D.C.

Scully drove them back to the motel in silence and found that crime scene
tape was still in place at Mulder's room.  After what had happened, they both
expected that the Willows Court management would kick them out; however, they
were pleasantly surprised to find a polite office staff who expressed concern
over the agents' well-being and presented Mulder with a key to a replacement
room on the far side of Scully's.

As Mulder fumbled with the key, trying to open the door to his new residence,
it dawned on her that he was probably still in a kind of shock from recent
events.  His normally graceful movements were slow and clumsy and he seemed
lost in thought even when she spoke to him.  So Scully followed him into the
room and told him to get started on a hot bath, keeping his bandaged shoulder
dry, and she would retrieve some of his clothes from the old room, crime
scene or not.

She knew he was out of it when he didn't make any comment on her proposal to
break a law and obediently began undressing. Seeing him begin to take his
clothes off as though he were alone in the room, she hastily departed; it was
unnerving when he did that.  It apparently had never occurred to him to be
embarrassed when changing clothes or undressing in front of her.  She found
that offensive because it meant that he didn't think of her as a sexual being
and, therefore, it was just like undressing in front of another guy to him.

Maybe I should change my name to 'Dan' she was grumbling to herself while
rummaging in his suitcase.  Finally she gave up on selecting something and
decided to take the whole thing.  She put everything back as neatly as
possible, zipped the bag shut, and staggered out the door with it.  She set
it down for a moment, returned to grab Mulder's prescription bottles from the
table, and then replaced the crime tape as best as she could.   Wrestling the
large case down the walk and into Mulder's new room managed to add one more
bruise to her leg, so she was cursing under her breath when she finally
dropped the bag with a thud to the standard motel-brown carpet.

He wandered out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, just in time
to see her kick the side of his luggage.  With an injured expression for this
mistreatment of his luggage, he easily tossed the bag up onto one of the beds
out of reach of her fury.

She guiltily told him, "I'm going to take a shower and change while you get
dressed.  When I come back with the laptop and case files, we can work on
putting the report together."  She beat a hasty retreat as she saw him reach
for the corner of the towel and therefore missed seeing the smirk on his face
in her rush to leave.  He loved to tease her, but most of the time she didn't
even realize he was deliberately doing it.


Three hours later

The detailed report had been faxed to Skinner.  It made no mention of
Mulder's connection with David.  Scully reached Skinner by phone about twenty
minutes after he received the fax and answered all his questions.  After
hanging up, they both breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that their boss
would put the SAIC in his place when he called.  Of course Skinner had taken
several strips out of his two agents' hides first, for not trying to work
with the man.  He told them that the worst they would probably see would be a
letter from Gregory that would go into their files.

Scully had neatly put the laptop, files and paperwork away, then turned
toward the beds.  Her partner had stretched out full length on the farthest
one from the door, his arms crossed over his face.  Either the beds were
short or he was too tall, because his feet came close to hanging off the end.
 She smiled.

"Come on, Mulder.  Let's get some lunch."

His muffled and unenthusiastic, "I'm not hungry; you go ahead," had been
expected, but Scully wouldn't take that for a final answer.

"You have to eat something.  Come on; I have to get some film developed,
too."

She retrieved his prescription containers from the top of the television and
threw them into a purse with her pills so they could both take them with
their food.

Grumbling good-naturedly, Mulder let her drive.  First she left her film at a
one-hour place for development .  "The role of film must almost a year's
worth of pictures on it.  I never find the time to either take pictures or to
get them developed," she told an amused Mulder.

"So after all this time, you require one-hour service?  You're suddenly in
such a big hurry?"

She just gave him an enigmatic smile and drove to the other side of town to a
restaurant that Matt had recommended.  They had a delicious lunch of broiled
salmon with dill sauce, some locally-grown squash, and small red potatoes.
 Mulder surprised himself by eating everything and then wistfully eyed
Scully's remaining portion.  But her killer look stopped him in his tracks
before his hand could even twitch.

He was glad that Scully seemed to have forgiven him to some degree, even if
he didn't deserve it.  Times like this when they could sit and relax together
were so infrequent these days.

"When is our flight, Scully?"

"Not until tomorrow morning at 11:30."

"Now, why can't we get that kind of extra time in a place like New Orleans or
San Francisco?" he whined.

"What?!  Willows isn't exciting enough for you, Mulder?"

He gave an exaggerated sigh and started fidgeting.

Scully knew the signs, and figured what would be coming next.  She called for
the check and they emerged into the late afternoon sun and brisk air.  The
pictures were ready, surprisingly, but Scully absolutely refused to let
Mulder see them.

"I don't even know what's on them myself, and it might be embarrassing," she
protested as she tucked them into the jacket pocket on the opposite side from
where he was sitting in the car.

Here it comes, she thought, when they returned to the room.

Without looking at her, he softly said, "I need to go see David."

Expecting to have heard this sooner, she wasn't surprised.  What *did*
surprise her was that he would bother to tell her first and not just
disappear as usual, with no explanation.

"OK."

Still not looking at her, Mulder held his hand out for the keys to the car.
 She gave them to him but let her hand linger in his for a moment.  He looked
up at her suddenly and Scully felt a stab in her heart at his expression.  So
much pain to be clearly read there.  And then he was gone.

Mulder hadn't called Mary first to see if they were at home, the hospital, or
still with the local authorities.  He figured that if they weren't home, he
would wait until they showed up.  The need to see David again was a tangible
craving seeming to originate somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.  He knew
he would have to let go of his son, but that was equivalent to anticipating
death.  He knew it was inevitable, but felt a deep dread of what came after.

When he reached their house he sat in the car for a few minutes with his mind
on hold.  He supposed he was building up the courage to go in.  What he would
really need, however, would be the courage to leave.

He finally walked up to the door and rang the bell, but noticed that his hand
trembled when he pushed the button.  Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm
down before making a fool of himself.

The door swung open and Mary stood there, an unreadable expression on her
face.  She looked like a school girl with her plaid skirt and heather-colored
sweater.  David was nowhere to be seen.

After a slight hesitation that didn't get past Mulder, she moved aside to let
him enter.

The first words he said as he turned to her were, "I'm so sorry, Mary.  I
accused you of some pretty awful things, not to mention physically hurting
you as well.  Can you ever forgive me?"

Her gaze lifted to his eyes and he saw that she was frightened.  Oh, God,
she's afraid of me, he thought.  

"You aren't going to tell him...?"

Mulder immediately grasped her concern and quickly shook his head to reassure
her.  "No.  I thought about it, but no."

She could see that it had not been an easy decision for him to make.

They heard the back door slam and David came running in, his face flushed,
eyes sparkling, throwing off his coat and gloves as he went.  Seeing Mulder
caused him to brake suddenly and apprehension showed on his face.

The tall agent was quick to reassure him, saying, "I just came to say goodby,
David.  I'm sorry we didn't have time to get better acquainted."

The child's posture relaxed when he saw that no one had guns or seemed to be
about to throw him on the floor again.  He didn't hesitate to shake the large
hand offered by the FBI man.  Even though his latest experiences with Agent
Mulder were a little traumatic, he instinctively felt that the man meant him
no harm.

He was curious, though, why Agent Mulder had tears in his eyes.  It was
always sad to say goodby, but the man was a grown-up.

"David, do you think I could get a hug?"  The tall man had squatted down on
his heels and still looked as though he would cry.  David's basic loving
nature drew him to offer comfort, hoping that Agent Mulder would feel better
if he did as he asked.

Mary was amazed when David unhesitatingly moved into Mulder's arms, and
hugged as hard as he could.

Mulder buried his face in David's shoulder, unable to keep a sob from
escaping.   It was clear that he could hold the small body in an embrace
forever, but loosened his hold when he felt David pull back slightly.

The boy looked into the sad, tear-filled eyes of the agent and said, "Don't
cry.  We'll see you again."  Then he turned and continued on his way to
retrieve a toy from his room.

Seeing that Mulder couldn't speak at the moment, Mary told him, "I don't
think you should see him anymore, but I promise to tell you if we move and
about the big events in his life - his graduation, marriage...  I owe you
that much."

He nodded, gave her a light kiss on the cheek, and quickly left the house.
 He knew that a large part of his heart was left behind, as well.

By the time he reached the motel again, his emotions were somewhat in
control.  He unlocked the door and entered, unsure whether he wanted to find
Scully still in his room or not.

Apparently because it had been getting darker outside, she had turned on the
lamps and closed the curtains.  The connecting doors to their rooms were
standing open and he could hear what sounded like humming.  She passed the
doorway, saw him, and detoured into his room.

"Thought I would get comfortable," she commented when she saw him staring at
the too-big sweat shirt and pants.  To Mulder, she looked so delicate in that
seemingly frozen few seconds that he wondered if he had imagined all the
strength that lay beneath the surface.

That strength suddenly became a magnet to him.  As fragile as he was feeling,
he shouldn't have been surprised when his emotions overwhelmed him and he
burst into tears, hugging Scully to him as if she were a life preserver.  She
represented normalcy and reason, things he needed desperately at the moment.

Scully, as ever, understood, and moved with him to the bed.  Sitting down,
she continued to cradle his head to her shoulder, feeling his body shake with
his grief.  It took awhile, but he finally grew exhausted from the emotional
storm that had ravaged his body.  She let him gently slide down to lie on top
of the quilt, helped him lift his legs up onto the bed, and removed his
shoes.

"Get some sleep.  I'll be right here, Mulder."

Scully thought at first that he might refuse to sleep, aware that he had a
masochistic streak and would normally hug his pain close,  jealous of sharing
it with anyone.  That was why she hadn't expected the tears.  Maybe he was
opening up a little bit more to her each time he hit a brick wall like this.
 He was finally realizing that she wasn't going to fail him or make fun of
him or throw his own failures back in his face.  The trust was deeper, she
realized, as he drifted off to sleep in about a minute. 
 
When he awoke several hours later, he could see Scully in the dim light
sitting at the table, watching him with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Hey," he said.

She hiccuped and hid a giggle behind the palm of one hand.

Intrigued, he sat up and said accusingly, "Are you drunk, Scully?"

"I think...I think I took the wrong pain medication.  I grabbed yours from my
purse by accident when I remembered that we hadn't taken our pills at lunch."
 Her eyes weren't too focused, he noticed, and her words were slurred.

Slightly alarmed, he asked, "Do you need an ambulance?  Was it an overdose?"

She shook her head no, got unsteadily to her feet, and made her way over to
him.

He saw her toes catch in a raised section of the carpet, and then Scully was
suddenly in his lap.  Mulder felt her warm breath on his throat and her arms
slowly wrapped around his neck.  She began to nuzzle behind his ear and an
electric stab of desire shot through him instantly, to concentrate in his
groin.  Oh, God, this wasn't right.  The drugs were messing with her mind and
she couldn't realize what she was doing.

When he tried to tell her they had to stop, he found his mouth covered by
hers in a forceful kiss.  He nearly lost it then, wanting desperately to bury
himself in the sweet oblivion she offered, but found the strength to push her
away.  He would never forget the hurt, devastated look on her face when she
half fell, half climbed off his lap.  Mulder knew that she hadn't started out
to shatter the invisible barriers they had mutually built up over the years,
but when presented with the opportunity, she had had the courage to leap into
the fire.

"Not like this, Scully," he whispered.  "Don't you see that it would just be
a way to escape reality for a short time?"

"So what's wrong with that?" Her soft, still unfocused eyes bore deeply into
his, openly showing him without words that she would gladly, willingly
relieve him of his anguish and sorrow, if only for a little while.

"Other than it would probably ruin our friendship and career, nothing," he
replied.

He could see some clarity returning to Scully's eyes and she nodded.  "Will
you be OK?" she asked, with some embarrassment.

"Aren't I always?"

And she knew it was true.  His wonderful heart took a lot of damage but
seemed to emerge as strong as ever once it had a chance to heal.  Her
fogged-up brain could grasp that much.

As she turned to leave he called, "Scully?  Thank you."

Nodding, she said, "Tap on the connecting door if you need
me...anything...during the night."

"Only if you'll do the same."  He was still concerned about the excess drugs
in her system.

When he got ready for bed, he found the picture on the table that Scully had
meant to give him.  It showed David in his arms, both of them asleep.  He
held the picture in a hand that shook, and he wondered whether feeling such
intense joy and intense sorrow at the same time would kill him.

THE END