Dogged Determination: Book II - The Collector's Edition by Rhondda Lake Contains: Interlude IV: Endless Knot D.D. IV: Suffer the Children D.D. V: Watched Over Interlude V: The Greatest Gift Rating: NC-17 for sex, violence and language Category: Crossover, MSR, Angst Spoilers: Up to "Leonard Betts", but not beyond that. Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance. Summary: The dog Scully finds is more then he appears, and the people looking for him are willing to kill to find him. This sets off a series of events and case files that change the lives of Agents Mulder and Scully forever. From a crossover with Dean R. Koontz' "The Watchers", to Native American spirits, Vampires, Conspiracies and a genius teenager with the strangest ties... Disclaimer: CC owns everything to do with the X-Files. This is a crossover, but as to what with will have to wait till later to give credit where credit is due. M/S Romance ALERT. If that turns your stomach, read no more. Dedication: For Nancy. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Interlude IV: Endless Knot Dear Journal, Hi there. Much to write, little time. For posterity I officially acknowledge that you, dear journal, are a gift from Dana. She gave you to me exactly four hours ago at the small dinner at her mom's house for 'the party'. Not much is going by tradition for this shindig but the party dinner was. That Mrs. Scully is a mean cook. Anyway, Dana thought I might like to keep a journal, after seeing that Connie had. Not a bad idea. Dana is a lot more sentimental than most people think. But don't tell her I wrote that or she'll kill me. Tomorrow is the big day. I'm as nervous as I would be if it were MY day. Jeesh, I wonder if formaldehyde ruins the nerves? Dad told me about the 'special guests'. At first I thought he was pulling my leg. How gullible is that Jamison kid anyway? But he was SERIOUS. Oh well. I'll write tomorrow. ##### WOW! Hard to focus all the giddiness at once. OK, Hope, step by step. They didn't want a church. Dad is agnostic. Hey God, help me convince him you're up there will you? He's a tough case. Anyway, they chose the Helen Avalynne Tawes garden. Because it was beautiful, and outdoors and their special guests could attend. They chose the natural cathedral of the forest section as the exact place. I got to be a bridesmaid. Just two of us. Me and the maid of honor. We wore those new female tuxedo things. I think that was a bow to the maid of honor who threatened to kill something if she was gonna have to wear something pink and frilly. I think Jackie was serious, too. The bride wore white. A white pantsuit, that is. Her bouquet was wild flowers and a single white rose tucked behind her ear was her only hairpiece. She was perfect that way. The bride's mother gave her away. Different, but touching. Dad looked like he was gonna swallow a fish from the start. No tuxes for him, either. Nice gray Armani. But he did wear a plain gray striped tie. See God, I knew you were up there. Thanks for the gift of a tasteful tie. The ceremony was semi-traditional spoken by both a priest and Orenda Brant. Dana's family priest I'm pretty sure. I met Orenda, just before the ceremony. Dad had told me about her. She sure didn't ACT blind. I swear she was staring at me half the time. She told me I had strong protective totems. Ooookkkk, whatever. She showed up being led by one of the 'special' guests. This one's name was Babes. Beautiful animal. But one look into her eyes and I believed every word Dad said. There was a soul looking back at me. One as self aware and as intelligent as I was. See Dad, I TOLD you she wouldn't lie about having brothers. At least that's who I THINK those redhead guys next to her mom were. Skinner was there, looking uncomfortable and supportive all at once. Then there was Harry Baker and Buster. From what Dad said it was Buster who made this whole day possible. So at the informal reception I walked up to him and gave him a big kiss on the lips. My first witness to what they could do was when he typed "I'M A MARRIED DOG," on his laptop. Only a handful there didn't know, but he typed it in an out-of-the-way corner, and I don't think anyone noticed. Oh yeah, back to the guest list... the three stooges. I lucked out. Poor Jackie had to make the return trip on Frohike's arm. I think it was a perverse joke played on them both my Dad and Dana. At least I got Byers. He looks to be the most normal of that crew. He even dances pretty well. Langly wasn't in the wedding party because he refused to wear a suit for any reason. Somehow I'm relieved. After the words were spoken they exchanged rings. Dad picked them. Very nice. The pattern was the Celtic endless knot. Forever looping and entwining, complex yet simple. Eternal. Dana is Irish, and I know she appreciates it. Dad's more sentimental than most give him credit for, too. The small reception was buffet style. Small gathering of friends more then a real party. Music played on a boom box, no DJ. But it was beautiful, because it was for them. OK I'm a sentimental sap, journal. Yup, Ms. High IQ med student loves happy endings, or happy beginnings. From the moment I saw them together I knew Dad and Dana belonged with one another. I don't see that as a betrayal of Connie, either. To be honest from what I've learned of Connie, she wouldn't have made a good life match with Dad. She was too passive, too easily led. Journal, have you noticed my tendency to run off on tangents yet? Get used to it. My mind is a disorganized clutter. The wedding went off without a hitch and a good time was had by all. Dad and Dana danced a lot, and Dana had to toast with ginger ale, but that was ok, even sweet. Oh you noticed I've taken to calling Mulder Dad, have you? Well, we both grew up. I feel I owe him for the hateful things I've said in the past and he feels he owes me alot more. He is you know. My Dad. He will never replace my Daddy, that name is reserved for Robert Jamison alone. But he's trying his damndest to be there for me. To just be. I gotta respect that. And I even like him, when he's not being a jerk. He better treat Dana right, though. If he doesn't, what little bit Dana leaves behind will be torn apart by Jackie and me. They flew off to New Orleans shortly after the reception for a week long honeymoon. They settled on New Orleans cause Dad refused to go to Disney Land and Dana refused to go to Memphis. Oh well, gotta go. Long day. Bet Dad and Dana have a longer night planned. (mental slap for naughty thoughts) The End of Endless Knot. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children Chapter 1. ----------- ABANDONED LACE MILL LAKEFRONT CLEVELAND, OH 12:30 AM Karla slipped under the loose board at the door. The old building had been condemned years ago, but it was used for all sorts of clandestine meetings now. Drug deals were made in the corners, and some of the more desperate working boys and girls sometimes brought clients here, taking them to the back. Karla knew that all too well. She'd done it herself. At sixteen there wasn't much Karla hadn't done. She had just managed to start getting her life back together. Thanks to Karen Haas and Tyche House. Karen had been her 'protective older sister' on the streets, and had guided her into Tyche house. The shelter had helped her, given her a place to stay, and Arianna had personally held her hand throughout the worst of the shakes as she cleaned out. Now here she was, practically throwing away everything she'd achieved, for HIM. For Ace. He was so beautiful, and he paid attention to her so exclusively it made her feel as if she were the center of the universe. For the past week, she was courted, adored... and so she was here, to meet him. In the darkness she knew what each shadowy form was, from the old days. When she came here to turn tricks and pick up drugs. There a loom, its metal rusted beyond most recognition. There a row of empty spools, the smell of their rotting wood all but hidden by the odor of urine, vomit and sex. A hand landed on her shoulder and she jumped, giving a little squeak of surprise. "I knew you'd come beautiful. My angel. Sweet innocence fallen and reclaimed." His breath was soft next to her ear. She could just make out the arc of high cheekbone, the promise of his long, soft hair, black as night. His skin was so pale she could tell where he was. "Ace. Of course I came. You asked me to." She smiled. She was Juliet, and here was her Romeo. Ari had made them read that a few weeks ago. It was mostly confusing to her, but the story itself was nice. She felt a soft kiss on her cheek. Cool breath. She wasn't some trembling virgin, she knew sex in all its forms, most of them without any tenderness or personal release. His gentle caresses, soft kisses were exactly what she'd never had before. And he never took it further than a stolen kiss, a gentle touch. "Why did you need to see me tonight? I could get in so much trouble." Ace chuckled in her ear. "But you are in trouble, my trembling bride." His caress turned into a grip of steel, and old instincts took over. She was instantly terrified. She tried to pull away but he was too strong. She kicked out only to have her leg grasped. "Ooooh, she is sweet." Another male voice to the left. "Innocence found again, and once more lost." Karla felt the sting of the needle, just above the track of old scars. The all too familiar burn of heroine pushing through her veins. "NOOOOOOOOooooooo!" She started to sob and she twisted in the iron grip. "Yes, sweetness. We need. We Feed. We need to feed." A woman's chanting. The first agony was accompanied by a wet ripping sound. It was quickly lost in Karla's screams. ##### SAME WAREHOUSE 11:PM NEXT NIGHT "Karla?" The whisper was thin in the shadows. A small form darted through lancelike beams of streetlights piercing the gaps in boarded over windows. The figure was childishly small, and outside light caressed a flow of dark hair highlighted red. "Karla, honey, are you here?" A pert nose sniffed at the air, and a low keening sound filled the empty room. "No. Nooooo." The small form crouched and a slender, pale finger rubbed at a lump at the floor. The finger shot to full, lightly painted lips and a pink tongue darted out to taste the brownish flakes there. The soft keening grew in pitch, until an animalistic ROAR ripped through the darkness, causing the old machinery to tremble. "Fucking LUSHES!" The words were tinged with such hatred. "You just made the biggest mistake of your short unlives!" ##### UNIVERSITY OF OHIO KATHY HYLAND DORMATORY CLEVELAND, OHIO The empty studio room was the biggest draw of the dorm. It was here that the girls housed there held parties or practiced various arts. The music filling the studio room now was a bumping grinding rhythm accentuated by Steven Tyler's voice. //We were makin love when you told me that you loved me, I thought ol' cupid he was taken aim// The two girls moved in perfect sync. They had taken the same dance courses, and had turned such little interludes into fun for both themselves and anyone who dared to watch. One girl was tall, five foot eight , and lithe. The leotard she wore showed a graceful, willowy build. Her long hair was a rich mixture of browns woven into a braid that slapped against the small of her back as she danced. Her hazel eyes were alive and vibrant, dancing with humor yet edged with a pain that could at times be looked over. The other girl was short, five foot one, and as curvaceous as the tall girl was slender. She looked like she'd been designed for men's wet dreams. In fact her upper half almost got in the way of some turns and arm movements in their dance. The short woman had masses of jet black hair pulled up into a topknot, the ponytail was full of naturally curled ringlets. This girl's eyes were black/brown and there was a hard edge to them, softened by the laughter. The short sleeves of her leotard did not hide the faint line of old scars. Little dots that would forever mark her painful past and an escape sought in the false euphoria of the needle. Both girls fell to their knees brought one foot up, made a turns and twist... //Falling in love is so hard on the knees!// On making the final standing turn the short girl found her balence wrong. Her center too low and her body too top-heavy, she landed on her well-rounded ass. After a sting of curses to make a sailor blush both girls broke into giggles. "Karen, you better get it right someday, your next dance partner won't be as forgiving as me." The tall girl laughed. "These things keep getting in the way." She gestured to her chest and saw the other girl lose all humor and look at her own chest despairingly. "Oh no you don't! Hope, you are a size b and can go braless in the summer heat. You are still nicely curved and obviously female. Lay off it. At least when you dance they don't fly up and smack you in the eye." Karen stuck her fists on her hips and glared up at her friend. Hope eyed Karen enviously. Yeah, sure, Karen could say that. Karen was a D cup at least, and on her little five foot one frame it made her rival Dolly Parton. "Karen, are you coming on to me?" Karen laughed. "Do you want me to, babe?" Hope sighed and held out her hand to help her friend up. It was an old argument between them. "I don't know, should I introduce you to Dad and Dana as my significant other? It might be worth it to see the look on their faces." Karen laughed. "Nah, don't need to borrow trouble. Maybe I'll just invite Ruthie to help move your boxes to their car. The two of us can carry on if you want." Hope shook her head. She had the feeling it wouldn't phase her Dad or Dana a bit to learn her best friend was notoriously bisexual with a heavier leaning towards women then men. Karen's last fling had been with a guy. That had ended when Hope was on the run four weeks before. It turned out the jackass heard Karen had once been a prostitute and thought he could easily 'score'. He was left shredded by a verbal barrage that made some of the University professor's quake in fear. To add insult to that injury Karen was now dating Ruthie, a lovely little pixish blonde who shared her passion for Shakespeare. "When are they due to arrive anyway?" Karen grabbed a towel and tossed another to Hope. Both girls mopped at the sweat covering their faces and chests. "Dad and Dana? Eleven Saturday morning. But remember you don't get rid of me for three more days after that. I promised to give them a tour, and Dad wants to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame." Hope grinned. Karen looked at her watch. "I'll be on my best behavior. I promise. I'm telling you, you lucked out, girl. Those pictures from the wedding had me salivating. Your Dad and his wife certainly are scrumptious." Hope flicked her towel at Karen's retreating behind. "Karen!" Hope got the shower first. She hadn't seen Mulder and Scully since their small, private wedding reception. They'd left from the reception to honeymoon in New Orleans. Dana's idea, as she refused to honeymoon in Memphis. She'd had constant phone contact though. It was hard, however, to try to build some sort of real relationship with her Dad and his new wife over the phone. It was one of the reasons she was moving to Georgetown. A lot closer. She also knew that Dad and Dana were apartment hunting for a place with three bedrooms. They were going to need a nursery in five months, and Hope understood the unspoken implication that the third room was going to be hers whenever she wanted. They still hadn't found a place that fit their ideas of a budget and security, however. As Hope pulled on her bathrobe and wrapped her long hair in a towel she heard crying from the next room. Crying? Karen didn't cry. Ever. Hope threw open the bathroom door to be confronted with a sight she'd never contemplated before. Karen Haas with their phone cradled against her cheek, sobbing her eyes out. "Karen?" Hope reached out and embraced her friend, gently taking the phone from her hand she listened, and heard soft sniffles on the other end. "Hello? Who is this?" "Um... this is Arianna over at the Tyche house. Is Karen going to be OK? I can come over if..." "I'll take care of her." Hope squeezed the older, smaller girl's shoulders. "What happened?" "Karla, the girl Karen brought into Tyche house... she was murdered last night. I called to tell her, and to know if she wanted to help arrange the funeral. She was the closest thing to family Karla had." "Give her some time and she'll call you back with an answer," Hope told the woman. "Thank you for calling her." "I'm sorry I had to." The woman on the other end sounded almost as upset as Karen. Hope hung up softly, then sat on the bed rocking her friend, letting her tears soak her robe and offering what comfort she could. Chapter 2. ----------------- J. EDGER HOOVER BUILDING WASHINGTON D.C. 8:00 am TWO DAYS LATER Dana Scully opened the door to the basement office to find pitch blackness. She frowned. Oh, she was used to dim lighting, Mulder seemed to soak it in to aid in one morose mood or another, but the complete lack of light was new to her. How had she succeeded in beating him into the office when they had arrived in the same car from the same apartment? To top it off, SHE had stopped to chat with Hellen Matthews. They had lucked out and managed to keep their wedding private until after the fact, meaning the OPC couldn't separate them on the basis of an unwritten rule without serious discrimination repercussions, especially when Skinner announced he had no intentions of splitting up such a high performance team, as long as they STAYED high performance. It was both his blessing and his warning. Her hand reached for the wall switch. "Leave 'em out. I was waiting for you." Mulder's voice leapt at her from the darkness. "In the dark?" "Haven't you learned yet? We're always in the dark Scully." She heard small shuffling noises and the well known sound of the projector being turned on just before the machine's light fell on the wall cleared for such shows. "More vacation slides Mulder? I thought you promised not to bore Hope with slides of our honeymoon." The first splash of color against the wall was as gruesome as anything they had seen. It took her a few moments to actually realize it had been a human being once. The head gave it away. It looked like something you'd find in the butcher's shop on a good day. "Someone saw Sweeny Todd one too many times?" She ventured. "Close. This was once Karla Morris. A sixteen year old runaway with a long arrest record for prostitution and drug abuse. She HAD been cleaned up and straitening herself out at a private shelter. She was found two days ago in an abandoned silk mill in Cleveland." Mulder hit the control and another slide filled the wall. A scene much the same as the first. Ten more clicks showed different bodies, all torn apart and butchered. "Eleven reported deaths, the first six in New York, now these in Cleveland." "What was used to do that?" Scully took the file pressed into her hands. "MEs can't tell. They were ripped apart, Scully. No outside tools, just brute strength." Mulder's expression was eager. He had hold of this one with both hands and he wasn't about to let go. "Where's the blood?" Scully finally asked, dreading the answer as she looked up from the file. All the scenes had been remarkably absent of the usual scarlet or dark brown pigmentation. A shiver passed through her. Childhood nightmares got tamped down. "That's what I hope to find out." He grinned and slapped her plane ticket on top of the file. "Tell the truth, you just picked this one up so the Bureau would pay for our trip to pick up Hope, didn't you?" She picked up the ticket and tapped him in the nose with it. "No, but it is convenient. I called Hope and told her we'd be in town early. She said she'll leave us to our work till Saturday morning. It seems the last victim was a friend of her roommate's. Her words were, 'You two go get the bed guys. Don't let them get away with this. No matter what the coroner says, Karen says the girl was clean, so she was clean." ##### TYCHE HOUSE CHILDREN'S SHELTER CLEVELAND, OHIO 3:28 PM The building was a three story brick that used to be an apartment complex. The stonework outside was exquisite, though sullied by years of dirt and bird lime. The corners held what appeared to be sword bearing angels, and the rest of the masonry depicted scenes of Greek Mythology. Scully got out of the car and looked at the architecture. The building was smaller then it's neighbors. "Angels and Greeks?" She looked at Mulder. "Nike. Goddess of Victory. You ever read Homer?" He grinned. "Tyche was the goddess of luck. I wonder if they named this place after the building's leanings." Inside the front doors was a sitting room decorated with second hand furniture. A desk sat off to one side, battleship gray metal most likely salvaged from a school somewhere. The Asian woman behind the desk looked up from her novel as they entered. "Can I help you?" Scully showed her ID. "Agents Scully and Mulder. We're here in regards to the death of Karla Morris." The woman closed her book carefully and nodded solemnly. "I'm Mai Lee. Come with me please. One of the private meeting rooms would be better. The kids wander through here all the time and they weren't told the details." They followed the woman through an institutionally decorated hallway, bright prints of rock posters and a large bulletin board broke up the walls painted in a shade of green definitely not found in nature. The room she opened to them held a folding card table and four folding wooden chairs. A smaller table that had seen better days, held a coffee maker, styrofoam cups and the trappings. "The people you'll want to talk to are Tom Sullivan, our Administrator and Arianna Llewellyn the Director and our primary psychologist. If you want to talk with Karla's friends.... can you please avoid mentioning that there were traces of heroin found in her system if at all possible? They worry about set backs with the other kids." Ms. Lee wrung her hands. "We'll try." Scully assured her. "Where are Mr. Sullivan and Mrs. Llewellyn now?" "Mr. Sullivan is teaching an English class. Umm... most of these kids aren't ready for public schools and the pressures there yet, so we have high school classes here. Ms. Llewellyn never comes in before six. She's here from six till five in the morning though, keeping an eye on the kids, easing late night terrors, and giving counseling sessions until ten, which is curfew." "Can we talk to Mr. Sullivan now?" Mulder spoke for the first time. "Sure. I'll relieve him. Feel free to have some coffee." She backed out the door and left them alone. "A bit jumpy." Scully observed as Mulder checked out the coffee pot. "They just had one of their kids brutally murdered Scully, under circumstances that can make this shelter look very bad." He poured himself a cup and gestured to her with it. "They have decaffeinated tea." She waved it off. Mulder nodded. Even tea was giving her heartburn these days. He eyed her appreciatively. She was four months along and she realized this would most likely be her last field assignment until the baby was born. She had already put on weight and she wore that healthy glow that most people picked up on. The cut of her suit disguised the beginning swell of her stomach. Mulder leaned against the wall and smiled. Less then a month married and he was a contented man. More then he thought possible. The baby had moved for the first time last night, and he'd felt it with a new sense of wonder. He was not about to give up his search for Samantha, or the Truths in the X-Files, but he had found a peaceful center. Of course his peaceful center was swept for surveillance devices once a week... It was three minutes later that a bearded, heavyset man entered. His longish brown hair was streaked with gray and pulled back into a ponytail. "You the FBI?" Both agents held out their IDs. The man nodded and took one of the questionable chairs "What can I help you with? We've gone over all this with the police." "We know, but there are some things we need to check into ourselves. Had Karla been acting strangely prior to the night of her death? Any sign that she was back on heroin?" Mulder's face was carefully expressionless. "God no. We watch these kids very carefully agent Mulder. Some of them call this shelter 'The Police State'. Mandatory drug testing once a week, for everyone. They know they have to work to get off the streets and a screw up like that and they'd be out of here in a heartbeat. We have a waiting list, kids who desperately need our help. We can't waste time and bed space on anyone who isn't willing to fight for their own betterment." Mr. Sullivan spread his hands. "We operate on the one strike and your out principle. Karla had been tested just the day before her murder. She was clean. I can swear to that. She had been for six months. She was even attending public school. Next week she was going to start her first legal job. That kid had a future." The man stopped and chewed at his bottom lip, a suspicious shimmer in his eyes. "There is talk of her seeing a guy. Maybe someone she met at public school. She was all... I don't know... like a real teenager. Her room mate says she was mooning over this guy. The only name anyone gets is Ace. I'm sure you know this, it should be on the police reports. Ari thinks he may have been a set up. Needless to say the pimps and pushers don't exactly appreciate the Tyche House. They'd love to have Social Services shut us down, even though we work with Sochserv. It may be that Karla was killed to make us look bad OR because her ex-pimp wanted revenge." "What can you tell us about her ex-pimp?" Scully spoke up this time. "Rico. Badass Mother. He controls about thirty kids at any given time. We've only ever had four of his former 'employees' go through here. The other three are good kids. Karen is now twenty one and going to Ohio State on scholarships, an English Major. Mike turned eighteen two months ago, he's living in a low rent apartment we arranged for him, works a regular job... he even comes back here to help with some of the younger boys we get. He knows their private Hells, so he helps them get through them better then we can. Karen does the same. There's a loyalty here. Once these kids get off the street they either try to forget the past or come back to try to help others. Debbie, she's fifteen and went home to her mother. All three are in counseling. Deb calls once in a while. " "We have their addresses here." Scully looked at the file she'd brought with her. She knew Karen Haas' address by heart. It was where she and Mulder were to meet Hope on Saturday. "The police are looking into this Ace character, but with no description to work from the chances of them finding him..." Mulder shrugged a bit. "We know that. What's being done about Doug?" Mr. Sullivan looked at both agents, his eyes without real hope. "Doug?" Scully frowned and poured over the file. "Doug Wilson. He snuck out last night. Hasn't come back. We filed a missing persons, thinking that with what happened to Karla the police would be a bit more helpful, but... they seem convinced he just ran back to his pimp and his drugs. Doug is thirteen, and he looked up to Karla, both were on heroin, came in about the same time. Jason, his bunkmate thinks Doug might have gotten a lead on this mysterious Ace. The kids can sometimes find out things no cop ever could. We suspect Dougie went looking for him." "You think Doug Wilson..." The heavyset man cut Scully off. "Is most likely in the same condition Karla is in right now." She looked to Mulder, their eyes speaking volumes into the silence of the room. "Can we talk with Karla's roommate?" "Sure. I'll send her right in." Mr. Sullivan left them to themselves as he sought out the girl. ##### Three hours later both agents were tired, but Mulder seemed to be piecing something together. The first kid interviewed had been Jewel, Karla's room mate. She had sat nervously in the wooden chair, popping her gum and eyeing both agents distrustfully. She spoke of Karla having restless nights. Some killer dreams, in her own words. Karla had been a bit pale, but the flu was going around, and once it was in the shelter everyone got it. The phantom boyfriend was a brunette, that's all she could say, and he quoted poetry. Karla told Jewel he'd quoted something like "She walks in the night with beauty." "She walks in beauty, like the night." Mulder corrected. "Yeh! That's it." Jewel smiled brightly at Mulder, falling into a flirtatious pattern she had learned to use to lure in johns on the street. "Real charmer. Likes Byron." Mulder muttered, ignoring the girls slight change in body language intentionally. She noticed the disinterest and shrugged to herself. She couldn't offer anything more, anyway. They got little more out of Jason, Doug's roommate. The interviews with friends of the deceased and missing were depressing. All of the kids had haunted eyes, and none of them, even ten year old Kimmy, were children. Not really. They'd seen and done too much. They'd seen the worst the world had to offer. Scully felt a directionless anger rise in her. She looked to her partner and saw it had affected him as well. But the anger in him was not as obvious as the sad resignation in his eyes. By the time the last interview was done it was six thirty. Ten year old Kimmy, who had been hooking on the street for two years, left them last. The door opened and another kid walked in. Mulder frowned, there were no more on their list to be interviewed. The kid then met his eyes and he felt the floor go out from under him. Her eyes were pale violet, the kind that you only saw with tinted contact lenses or on Elizabeth Taylor, but he knew in his gut that her's were natural. They bore into him, weighing and measuring his soul. She nodded slightly as if accepting what she found there, then looked at Scully. He could see by his wife's still posture and paleness that she felt as he had, and was equally uncomfortable with it. The person in the door was no kid despite her size. Mulder mused that he had never met such a petite individual before. Even Scully was taller. Yet she was physically perfect in every way, so she could hardly be called a midget. The woman stepped into the room and tossed the end of her red brown ponytail over her shoulder. She was approximately four foot ten or eleven, and willow thin. She wore a black sweat shirt without arms and cut off to expose her toned tummy and tight blue jeans, her feet encased in black soft suede boots. Mulder grinned. It must be hard for her to find clothes that were not designed to make her look cute and twelve. "I'm Arianna Llewellyn. I heard you wanted to speak with me." Her voice was surprisingly soft and mellow. It called to mind liquid chocolate. Mulder cleared his throat. "Yes, we would. Please have a seat." The woman took one of the chairs and faced them calmly. "You are investigating Karla's death, no?" "Yes." Scully faced the woman, oddly disturbed by her earlier appraising look and by the fact that while she was the larger of the two for one of the few times in her life, this woman had a presence that made her feel like an errant schoolgirl. "Karla was a wonderful child. She'd had a hard life. One with little beauty in it. But she had a good soul. She fought her way back from the abyss. And some bastard shoved her right back in before butchering her like a pig. You won't catch the ones who did this." "You seem pretty sure of that Ms. Llewellyn. Do you have an idea who might have done this?" Mulder sat next to Scully. "Several, as no doubt Tom Sullivan has told you." Her bright eyes darted between Mulder and Scully. "I consider every child to sleep here under my protection. They come here seeking help, love, a will to go on in a world that has given them none. I try to provide that for them, as does every teacher, councilor and secretary who either works or volunteers here. Has anyone heard anything about Dougie yet?" She expected no positive response, and did not even blink when Mulder shook his head. "We just heard about him a few hours ago. What were you doing when Karla disappeared? I understand you stay here all night as a kind of night watchman." Mulder was now returning the scrutiny he'd felt from this woman earlier. "I'm only human Mr. Mulder." A small twitch of her lips. "I had stepped out for a bite to eat. When I came back and did the door to door Karla was gone. She'd climbed out her window. Her room was near the fire escape. But not close enough for good judgment. She could have broken her neck in that maneuver. I immediately roused the on site councilors and three of us went out looking for her." Ms. Llewellyn appeared tense, angry even. "Please understand... I had such high hopes for Karla. She was a GOOD kid. I think she could have had a... normal future. House, husband, kids... the American dream. That someone stole that from her..." Her small hands were locked into bloodless fists. Her eyes shimmered as well. She produced a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes swiftly. The motions of one who did not like to be seen so weak. "How can we get in touch with you if we have further questions?" Mulder finished this interview. "Leave a message here. I practically live here anyway." Chapter 3. ---------------- In the car Scully looked over at Mulder. For a change he was in the passenger seat. "OK, what's going on?" She sighed. "How old would you think Arianna Llewellyn is?" She gave him a startled look. "I thought a well-developed twelve at first, but when you get a good look at her I'd say mid to late twenties. You aren't going to go judging people by their size, are you?" Her arched eyebrow was a challenge despite the teasing remark. "Never. As a matter of fact, she made me feel like *I* was twelve in there. I was ready for her to slap my wrist with a ruler," he mused, pulling at his bottom lip. "Do you think she may be in on this? We can check and see if she was in New York at the time of those murders easily enough. But I sincerely doubt she had the brute strength to tear someone apart Mulder." He nodded. "But I think she may know more then she's telling." ##### ROOFTOP OF TYCHE HOUSE She looked down from the roof. Those two... they might just be able to see beyond carefully placed masks into the heart of the Truth. She could not allow that. However, she saw in them something to be admired. They strove, against impossible odds all the time. The hearts of fighters. The souls of Seekers. Like the children below her. Good, honest folk. She just could never turn her back on such people, not even in her youth. Especially not on the woman who carried a new life within her. That had shocked her. She wasn't aware that the FBI allowed pregnant agents in the field. She sighed. The game was getting more complex. She had long ago lost any interest in playing it, but at times like these she was helplessly swept away in it. Justice must be served. Her mind, heart and soul screamed for it. For Karla, and for Dougie. That poor boy... he had been her responsibility. She had been so desperate to find those who had killed Karla she'd failed to notice the boy's troubles. And so far she had not been able to find him. Or what was left of him. She hated feeling so ineffectual. She had let them both down. Guilt. It never faded. That man knew it well. She felt an odd kinship to him. They could not learn the Truth, but they could be useful. Live bait to set a trap. She frowned. Live bait... but steps must be taken to protect the bait. Her conscience was quite full enough, thank you. And if anythig befell a pregnant woman through any doing of her own, Ari wasn't sure she could shoulder that burden. "You ok?" She spun to see little Kimmy on the roof behind her. They were almost of even height. Ari sighed. She saw herself more in Kimmy than in any of them. This girl was the child of Ari's heart, as she could never have one of her body. Kimmy had started hooking at age eight... the same age as a long ago child had been when her sheepherder father raped her and used her as a whore for others. Fast money, no work... Ari shivered. "Yeh, kiddo. I was looking at the stars. They never change, you know. They are the one constant in the universe." She placed an arm protectively around the child. Feeling the warmth of the girl's skin through her clothing. "You always listen when we need to talk. Who listens to you, Ari?" The small voice cut to her heart and she hugged the girl as fiercely as she dared. "I keep my own counsel. Sometimes it is better that way." Kimmy pulled away a little, looking at her friend with eyes too old and wise for a child. "Everyone needs someone to talk to. You told us that. I'm here if you need me." Arianna wiped absently at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Twice today she had been moved to tears. "Thank you, child. I shall remember that. Come. Dinner will be served soon. And I know you just LOVE burgers." ABANDONED WAREHOUSE WATERFRONT CLEVELAND, OHIO 8:00 PM "Ok, kiddies, we got some new players on the field." The new arrival looked at the three people scattered around the room. He ignored the soft whimpers coming from a closed off and padlocked room to the side. The three all wore leather with chain trim. The sole woman wore leather pants accentuating a to-die-for figure made more obvious by the muscle tee she wore. The two men wore leather jackets. All had long, shaggy hair. A street-tough look somehow made more menacing by the extreme paleness of their skin, and brightness of their eyes. "Jako, what kind of players could be of any interest to us? We just make them run in circles till they drop. The game ceased to be fun with them years ago." The dark haired punk was flipping cards into a hat, eternally bored. "Ya know that Fairy Godmother's been closing in, leading us a merry chase right? Well she just got two helpers. Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. They're specialists at handlin our kinda work." Jako wore his hair in a stiff black mohawk, a chain ran from the earing in his ear to the ring in his nose. "Regular psycho Einstein and girl wonder so the rumor mill has it. Wouldn't mind gettin my hands on Little Red either. I cruised by the sleep park they's stayin at. Quite a piece. And a piece inside a piece if ya get my meanin'. They're sharin a room, so I guess it's the Big Bad Wolf's pup." "Shut up Jako. Why specialists? Think we've been gaining a bit more attention than we should?" The woman looked to the card player. "Ace?" Ace looked up from his cards. "Wouldn't Cleveland's premiere Cainites just love that?" He grinned sharply. "Our little Sabbat drawing down their precious little Masquerade. Queenie, this is just too grand." Queenie shook her head. "Ace, you're pushin the envelope. You gonna bring some Justicers down on us major. I like my fun, but I'd also like to see the next century." "Goin chicken on us darlin? Want to spend your nights as a Tease, drinkin the pale stuff, afraid of gettin caught. You ever LIVE as much as you have with me as your Regent?" The woman shook her head. "You did promise me interestin times if I took the Oath to you." "King, go check out Jako's Specialists. Tell me what kind a game we can play. Been three days kiddies. The Beast is risin. Let's make tonight a Party night. The House of Cards are gonna rock and roll!" Ace sent his cards flying in a swift blur for the hat, much faster than humanly possible. "Tonight we can find out if deuces really are wild." He smiled at the locked door, and the pitiful sobs from behind it. ##### HOLIDAY INN CLEVELAND AIRPORT Dana nibbled absently at her pizza as she finished typing out the interview notes. She looked at Mulder as he was cross-referencing this case with some old X-Files. He just finished calling Hope. She could tell by his expression as they talked that he was desprately glad that Hope hadn't turned out to be one of the residents of Tyche House, or worse, one who never made it to the shelter. "So what is the theory on this one? You planning on digging up Bela Legosi?" Her question was teasing, but her mind lingered on chilling tales older siblings had used to terrorize a pesky little sister. And a half-remembered nightmare of red eyes and long teeth coming for her when she was seven. The nightmare still haunted her sometimes. The demon coming, and the Angel that fought it for her. A Gentle angel who whispered the nightmare away. She shivered at the old recollection. Mulder shook his head slightly. "Don't laugh yet, Scully. Two years ago I'd agree with you, but I've seen things." "You told me about the Trinity case, Mulder. And I've told you you most likely were dealing with a case of twins." Scully slapped the remains of her pizza into the now empty box. Delusional ritual killers and twins. It was the only logical explanation. She would not even consider Mulder's theory on that one. She felt obligated to point out nice sane rational to this one as well. >And what if there isn't any?< Her mental voice prodded. >What if this is like other cases, and science gives you no clear cut answers? Can you ever sleep again?< Mulder's voice pulled her from her internal musings. "And John managed to convince himself he'd spontaneously combust if the sun hit him, so it was actually a case of mind over matter? I just don't buy it. And we still have the fact that all the bodies related to these Butcher slayings are curiously low on blood." Scully sighed. "It's pathetically simple. They were killed in one place, butchered and bled, then the bodies were dumped at the sites." "There was just enough blood at the silk mill for splatter patterns, Scully. Karla was killed there." Mulder showed her the old files he had, the papers yellowing a bit at the edges. "Not all of these were butchered, but there have been bloodless corpses showing up across the country since Hoover opened the first X-file." "Then maybe you should be looking for a disturbed Red Cross employee." Scully shoved the file back at him. ##### Outside King watched. The lights from the room let shadows play against the drapes. He'd seen Jako's piece when she'd gone to the door to get the pizza they'd ordered. Very not bad. His ears picked up the low conversation inside, He leaned closer to the wall. He never tired of his heightened senses, in his ability to hear things he'd never been able to in his life before. >From the sound of things Jako might have been right. The guy in there sounded like a real Stalker. The girl was unconvinced. Good. Playing them against each other would be fun. Make it more interesting. Especially with them roomin together and her carryin the pup as Jacko had proclaimed. Watching them go for each other's throats would be a fun game. If the guy knew as much as it sounded like he knew... then they'd have the thrill of the kill at the end of this game. Oh the possibilities. With no warning at all King was pulled backward with unbelievable force. He felt himself flying through the air before the cold pavement of the parking lot met his back with enough force to knock the wind out of anyone. But King was on his feet in an instant, looking around into the dark. Darkness was no cover to him. He could see as plainly as full day. The small figure watched him, eyes narrowed. She stood in shadow. If he had been less than he was he'd never have seen her. She stood with arms crossed against her thin chest. Pitiful little creature. But one who had the strength to toss him aside like a doll. "You dare?" He hissed in challenge. The weak light of the parking lights glinting off extended fangs. He stood in attack position, humanity melting away from him, every lean muscle taught. His eyes took on the golden green cast of the Beast. She did not move. "We are going to talk, you and I. And if I like what you have to say... I shall allow you to live." The voice that touched his ears was a soft whisper. "Who are you?" King's voice had become a gravely rasp as the Beast within emerged. "I am justice. I am what awaits those who stalk protected prey." The soft words were hissed. The small one was angry. She blinked in the darkness, and when her eyelids rose her eyes, too, had changed. Their color a more pure gold. "Justicer? You don't stand a chance." He pounced, the move a blur even to eyes that could track and see much more then any human. Hands twisted into claws ripped for her throat. She dropped to her back and his pounce landed him squarely on the soles of her waiting feet. She kicked out, sending him backward, to crash into one of the light poles, denting the metal. He had barely stood again before he was once more on his back. Her weight was light on his chest, but her hands pinned his wrists to the black top, her strength was way beyond expectations. Her eyes began to glow with their own inner light. She snarled, showing him small, perfect fangs. "Whelp!" She hissed into his face. "Never take on an Elder, even the most hopeless of Childer knows that." Elder? He squirmed, fear waking in his cold heart for the first time in decades. "Where are your friends?" She moved so her face was only an inch from his. Her eyes drew him in, pushing against his will. She was pulling at his mind.. But she was not his master, he could not betray the one he had oathed to. Blood bond dictated that. "Fuck you bitch." He snapped at her throat, only to have her move, too quick, and tear out his own. He felt the pull in his body as she drew out the Blood. Headhunter, diablerie, she was draining him. He felt his too-short immortality slipping away into her deep and final kiss. ##### The phone rang, and Scully answered. "Scully." "Agent Scully? This is Captain Hill of the twelfth precinct. I was told you were investigating a certain kind of murder. We just found the body of a local pimp. Rico Torres. His body was tossed in front of the El, C train's seven o'clock run. Not much left of him. Still can't find his head. But the fingerprints match and... there's no blood in the body." Scully relayed the news to Mulder. "Want to go visit the ME?" "You, me, a row a freezers... a headless dismembered corpse. What could be better?" He stacked his files and went for his coat. "Gee, sweet talk like that reminds me why I married you." She pulled on her own coat with a wink. Chapter 4. ----------------- CLEVELAND MEDICAL EXAMINER'S OFFICE The late Rico Torres had been sliced into five neat pieces, slightly singed from the electricity of the El's tracks. The Police Chief had been correct, there was little blood in the body. Scully would judge the time of death only two hours prior to the autopsy. What bothered her most was the missing blood. The condition of the neck was almost as bothering. It was not the neat severing produced from the train's crushing wheels. His head had been ripped from his shoulders. Jaggedly, violently ripped. Evidence from the vertebrae would suggest his neck had been broken. It was unclear if that or blood loss had killed him. He'd been dead before the train hit him though. She watched Mulder's face as she told him her findings "Looks like he REALLY pissed someone off." Mulder smirked. "So have you determined the point of blood loss?" "No. Although if it was from the Carotid or Jugular evidence would have been obliterated by the fact that his head is missing, and the damage from tearing." A young looking lab technician approached them as they spoke. "Agents Mulder and Scully? Chief Hill just called. They found his head. It was mounted on a stop sign on the corner most of his kids worked from." He handed them a paper with directions on it. Mulder took it and gave Scully his slight, lopsided smile. "I just love it when we get ahead." She walked away, shaking her head slightly. ##### At the corner of Lakeside Avenue and 26th street they got past the police tape and the guards by flashing their IDs. The head was as promised, perched on top of a stop sign. Mulder winced at the sight but recovered with the aplomb of one accustomed to such sights. The sign itself embedded in the stump of neck. There was not much blood at all just a single small stream dried to the aluminum. Something sharp had scored the sign though, scratched into the paint the words "THE FATE OF SCUM". "Don'tcha just love a subtle killer." Mulder stepped back from the scene and looked at Scully. Scully shook her own bright head. "So we're looking for a superman vigilante? If this is the same killer, why go after a ex prostitute trying to clean up her act? It just doesn't fit." "Not much about this case fits Scully." Mulder drew her away from the scene as the forensics people swept the area. "Can you come up with a rational explanation of how this killer, or killers can tear apart a human body?" "If they are under the influence of certain drugs they might have surges of superhuman strength. They would be unable to feel the muscle strain most people experience when they over tax themselves." She met his eyes unflinchingly. "Why did they drain the blood? And how? And the sixty four thousand dollar question is... what did they do with it?" He gestured to the stop sign, now devoid of it's burden. "A man like that has so many enemies tracing them will be next to impossible. But I know who I'd want to talk to first. Arianna Llewellyn." Scully actually laughed. "Mulder, the woman is four foot eleven and might weigh ninety pounds soaking wet with her clothes on. Do you seriously think she'd have the strength to pull this off? Even under the influence of drugs the human body has it's limitations." "I've heard stories of ninety pound housewives lifting cars off their husbands when the jack gave way and fell on him. Hysterical strength." "No way! Oh I know the stories, and I even accept the principle behind them. But," Scully made a chopping motion with her hand, "what would have triggered this kind of reaction? What stimuli? Anger? Not after three days." "All right, I'll grant you that Ms. Llewellyn herself most likely could not have done this... but she might be able to contact the kind of people who can. Revenge Scully. She suspects this guy of killing Karla Morris and possibly Douglas Wilson. He's been getting runaways and throwaways on drugs then tossing them into the street to hook for him. "Did you know who founded and pays all the bills of Tyche House? Arianna Llewellyn. From what I can see she's independently wealthy, and a good deal of her money gets put into keeping the safehouse up and running." "Mulder... everything you just said... that makes her one of the GOOD guys. In my book she should be put up for sainthood, not suspected of hiring circus freak strong men to kill people. Especially not the very people she's protecting." Scully's jaw was firmly set. "We'll check her out... but I'm telling you now Mulder, I don't think you could be more wrong." "I don't know Scully. There was just something about that woman..." ##### TYCHE HOUSE CHILDREN'S SHELTER Kimmy looked up from her homework. She was in the main room with several of the others. But unlike the other, older kids she wasn't lost in the antics of Star Trek on the boob tube. She had noticed the small figure dart past the doorway without a sound. Closing her geography book, marking her place with her pencil, Kimmy slipped quietly from her chair. Pulling her blonde curls back in a scrunchie she had worn on her wrist she headed off down the hall. She heard the distant sound of the showers running in the girl's facilities. She was very careful when she opened the door, hoping the sound of the running water would cover her movements. Silently she moved to the stall issuing steam, and looked at the floor. The water was pink, little swirls of blood flowing down the drain. That much blood simply did not come from women's courses. Propelled by the fear that someone was hurt, or trying something stupid, she kicked open the door and faced a startled Arianna. Kimmy swallowed hard. Ari's skin was always pale but it was shockingly white compared to the streaks of blood down her front, over her small breasts, her flat stomach. "Are you hurt?" Kimmy asked in a small voice. "Did... did one of those bastards out there rape you?" Arianna's face was a mask of startled surprise, but it quickly transformed into her most reassuring smile. "Oh no kiddo. You don't have to worry about me." Ari moved quickly to the door of the stall, looking around the rest of the bathroom. "What are you doing here?" "I saw you come in, out of the corner of my eye. I followed you here." Kimmy was not convinced that her friend and mentor was all right however. "I'm gonna go get Mrs. Malkovich." She indicated the on site nurse. "No! I'm fine Kimmy. Kimmy, look at me." Kimmy felt Ari's hands on her shoulders, and she only had to look up the slightest bit to see Ari's pale violet eyes. "Kimmy. You didn't see anything unusual tonight." Ari's voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Her eyes, they weren't yellow, they were purple weren't they? "You just left to go to the bathroom. You will leave here and go back to what you were doing, completely forgetting you ever saw me." Kimmy nodded solemnly. Her eyes had a slight glassy cast to them as she turned and walked to the door. Ari stepped back and rested her head against the plastic stall wall, letting the water wash away the evidence of tonight's work. She mentally stomped on the wave of self loathing she felt for manipulating Kimmy. The poor child didn't deserve it. It had been concern that had brought her here. Once she was clean Arianna carried a small plastic bag containing her clothing into the basement, to the incinerator. ##### It was almost two when Arianna heard the knock at her office door. She was not surprised. "Come on in, there is no current session." Ari looked up from her desk to see the two figures she expected walk into the room. Ari's office was decorated much like a living room with a desk. The desk was not the battle ship gray metal kind as was in the main reception hall. No this one was particle board covered in wood grain paper. The ink blotter was a large calendar with a triple A logo on top, and her computer was an old MAC. The sofa and chairs were second hand, and the carpet was stained in places. She saw agent Mulder take it all in. What HAD he been expecting? She mentally frowned, just how much did he know or guess? "Ms. Llewellyn, I'm afraid we have to ask you a few more questions." Mulder met the eyes of the small woman behind the desk. Her head tilted to the side questioningly. "Anything to be of assistance. Do you always make your business calls at such... ungodly hours?" She smiled slightly. He was more open minded and intelligent then she had originally surmised. Her smile surprised even her. She supposed her subconscious was acknowledging the game being played out here. "We do in cases like this. Besides I remembered your odd hours here." His eyes held a challenge. Arianna did not move, her gaze was unwavering. Unnerved he looked away. Arianna had the feeling that didn't happen to him often by the stiffening of his spine. Ah, resentment at being bested in such a simple thing as a basic stare down. "We'd like to know if you could tell us your whereabouts at approximately ten o'clock this evening." Scully took over, frowning at Mulder. "I was here of course. Working. May I ask why?" Mulder looked back at her, he wasn't about to give up so easily. "Rico Torres was found murdered this evening." "I see. Forgive me if I don't shed tears of grief. I hope he got what he deserved." Arianna stood and circled her desk. "So you suspect me of killing him." It was not a question. "We don't have any official suspects yet. But his death is tied to the Karla Morris case." Mulder crossed his arms. Arianna sighed. She really didn't feel like having a pissing contest right now. She looked at agent Scully, noticing that the woman had herself schooled into an appearance of complete neutrality. However little things gave her away, tiny lines on her face, her breathing, even her pulse rate. She wasn't sure what was going on. She didn't accept her partner's behavior, but she was doing everything she could to back him up. "I suppose it would be convenient if I had an alibi." She shook her head sadly. "Although I was within the building tonight had gone much better then any of us expected. None of the children came to me. I have been doing paperwork, most of it trying to get some of our younger guests social security cards. I can show you the forms... but that's the best I can do." "Well an alibi might have helped. Mr. Sullivan was on a date at the time, he has a restaurant staff as well as his fiancee to back his story." Mulder stepped closer and looked down at the government application forms on Arianna's desk. "Unfortunately my social life is rather... dead." Arianna looked at Mulder with a touch of amusement. She saw that he was getting angry under his cool exterior. She heard his heart speed up. Part of her was deeply impressed. He actually suspected. He was open enough to see the truth and his attention had focused on her. He was close, too close. He was so very correct in some respects, but off base with others. She would have to lead him a merry chase, keep him interested in her enough to keep him off the real track. But his ability to suspect what she was made him as dangerous as her true prey. Any proof and he would pierce the Masquerade and his life would be forfeit. How does one protect someone from themselves? His near grasp of the situation made her long for someone to talk to, as Kim had offered before. It couldn't hurt to tease, to keep him focused on herself. "Ms. Llewellyn, are you trying to play a game with me?" Ari was not expecting an outright challenge. She gave him points for throwing her off balance for a brief moment. "What is it you suspect me of agent Mulder? Murdering a pimp? Killing the children under my care? Being an inhuman monster?" Her lips twitched into that tiny smile again as his eyes widened slightly. Good, he took the bait. Now to keep him on the line. "Life is a game agent Mulder. If you stay alive and achieve some degree of happiness you win. If you die of anything but a natural death or lead a miserable life, you loose. The point system is based on friendships and love, and how much happiness you managed to spread in the course of the game." No need to be cruel as she did what must be done. Let him think on her words. If he could find some peace of mind, in what she could see was his troubled soul, then she had done better then she hoped. "Did you pick that up from a greeting card?" His voice was almost a whisper next to her. "No, I learned it the hard way. You want to know why I am here. Why I try to save these children. You are intelligent Mr. Mulder, I'm sure you and your partner here have by now uncovered that I am the primary source of finances for Tyche House." Ari looked to Scully again and noted the slight nod of the woman's head. "I inherited the money from the woman who saved me. I was once each and every one of these children. I was bought and sold for coin. My body and my sense of self stolen from me by a father who saw me as a way to bring in money with no effort to himself. I know each and every hell these children are in, because I've been there myself. You will never know what such humiliation, desperation and abuse can do to the human soul. And I am glad. Yes, I have every reason to despise the predators who use these children, to even want to see them dead. But I would never do a thing to harm any of my charges." Arianna turned from them then. What had possessed her to say such things? Dear God, she had spoken only truth, but a truth very few living beings knew. She had bared herself in earnest. True, these two would most likely see through lies. And what she had said WOULD keep them at least partially focused on her as suspect. But she had never risked her sense of self like that before. "How far would you go to protect them Ms. Llewellyn? Would you seek vengeance for them?" Scully asked from her place in the center of the room. "I have every faith that justice will prevail." Arianna cocked her head to the side. "Your own justice or that of law enforcement?" Mulder asked bluntly. "I have respect for law enforcement Mr. Mulder. If it can catch the person or people responsible - it will." Arianna could see that both agents were fully aware that her answers were evasive. She also saw the beginnings of true suspicion in agent Scully's eyes. So, the woman had not thought her capable of the killings. >If only you knew...< Ari thought to herself. Eventually they saw that they wouldn't get much else out of her and made their leave. Arianna closed the door behind them with a sigh. "Quite a show. You should have sold tickets." Ari spun to see a man sitting in the chair behind her desk. She smiled a bit. She should have known. She would recognize the long, lean form anywhere. The long, heavy waves of blond hair pulled back into a braid, the neatly clipped and pointed beard, the intense grey eyes. "Hello Jared. Are you here to try and warn me off?" Ari crossed her arms. Chapter 5. ---------------- "I was afraid I'd be dragging you before the council after that little fiasco in the hotel parking lot." His gaze knifed through the air between them. Ari would not bow, however. She would NOT be ashamed of what she had done. "You were following me?" She arched a brow. "No, I was following King. That was the name he went by anyway. I had no choice but to report it, however. The Prince was not too happy. He sent me here, not to tell you a blood hunt has been issued, but to give you this." Jared Malcom stood and Arianna was irritated that she had to look so far up at him. He was six foot five, and had been considered a giant in his day. He held out four cards. Ari took them with a frown and looked at them. They were old, hand painted playing cards. An ace, king, queen and jack, all of spades. The king card had been torn in half. "Sabbat." Jared spoke the single word and Ari felt the fine hairs at her nape rise. He watched her reaction and nodded. Good, she realized how dangerous this was. "They call themselves the House of Cards. You just reduced the deck by one tonight. But they hide well. We haven't been able to track them far. The Prince knows you want vengeance, so he is withholding the general call for Blood Hunt. It's more... economical... for you to handle it if you can. He gives you free reign in this matter. But these anarchs cannot be allowed to continue. If you go down, we will take over." Arianna nodded. She didn't know if she was happy to be given the opportunity to taste full vengeance or angry that the Prince was using her to take care of his own problems. "How much do you know of them?" Arianna looked at her old friend as he sat on the arm of her office couch. He tended to sit in her presence, a small gesture of respect so she didn't have to crane her neck to look at him. "They have hit several cities, last time it was New York. They get chased out, but until tonight no one has actually killed any of them yet. I imagine their leader, Ace, will be very pissed off about that." Ari grinned without humor. "Let him come after me. He is the one who killed Karla. I want to rip his cold heart from his body, to stake him out to watch the rising sun. I want him to go slowly into final death." "And that's why I try not to piss you off, chere'. If you didn't have a heart as big as the city itself you would be the most ruthless Kindred I know." "Flattery will get you nowhere. Can you give me anything else on this House of Cards?" Arianna tossed the cards onto her desk. "Nothing much. I latched onto King by luck more than design. I had HOPED to follow him back to their lair." He sighed. "You kinda made that hard." "Can't win 'em all Jared. So, are you planning on giving me material support or just information?" Arianna smirked a bit. She wondered how far Jared was permitted to go, and how much further he would go for her personally. "If I happen to be in the neighborhood at a time you appear to be having trouble... I might pop in to share in the fun. But I have no such orders." Arianna crossed to stand next to the seated Jared, leaning forward she kissed his cool cheek. "Thank you. But if I ask you a favor, would you be willing to do it?" "If it does not go against my orders..." "It shouldn't. The two who just left here, they are getting in deeper than they know. Their lives may be in danger. I believe this... King creature I dispatched was tailing them even as you were tailing him. They are pure hearted and true. She carries a child. They deserve protection. If I am... hunting, I cannot be watching. Will you guard them for me?" Arianna would not beg, but that she requested this much spoke volumes. "They are FBI, are they not? How close are they?" Jared's eyes narrowed. "They appear to be married." She blinked innocently and laughed at Jared's annoyed look. "The man, Agent Mulder, is surprisingly open-minded. He is closer than most would find comfortable. This would make guarding them that much more difficult. Agent Scully, however, is too rational for such flights of fancy as her partner follows. I claim them as Protected under my blood." Ari's eyes cut into Jared's. He nodded. He would pass the word. With such a claim, Ari was taking responsibility for them, and anything they learned as well. "As they are so claimed I give you permission to carefully edit any... inconvenient memories they may have should the need arise, but only if there is no other choice to protect ourselves." Jared grinned. Arianna was practical for the most part. She could not have survived so long if she were not. He leaned forward and captured the small woman's mouth in a deep, erotic kiss. He punctured his tongue with the tip of one fang, and passed to her the essence of his blood. He tasted the answering sweetness of her older essence, rich and satisfying, wrapping through his mouth and his veins. No other but the Prince captivated him so. Ari broke the kiss with a small smile. "If I kept you here for more those I charge to your care would go unprotected." With the freshness of the recent blood bond as catalyst she mentally fed him the way to their hotel. "Go, you incorrigible rake. Keep them out of trouble for me." ##### "Well?" Mulder looked at his wife out of the corner of his eye. It was dark, and she was visible only in the flashes of streetlights or the headlights of oncoming cars. "All right, the whole conversation was strange. But if she's trying to hide something she's not doing a very good job of it. She seems too intelligent to really be that inept." Scully crossed her arms, one finger tapping against the other arm as she considered. "Then again she could just be cryptic on a daily basis." She smiled at the look Mulder gave her. "Ok, I don't buy it either. She may know more then she's saying. Maybe she's trying to protect someone... or she's being threatened. That might explain why she was almost deliberately suspicious." "You think someone is threatening her or Tyche house? It's a possibility. But she didn't strike me as the type to take being threatened with such equanimity." Mulder drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled into their hotel parking lot. He frowned. "Scully, was that lamp post dented like that when we signed in?" She followed his eyes to the post in question. "So someone hit it. Come on Mulder, I'm tired. It's been a long day." She got out of the car and headed for their room. X >From the roof he watched them exit the car. The woman's bright head shone in the artificial light. He smiled to himself; he hadn't seen such a brilliant red since he attended the court of his Queen at the end of her reign. Ah, but by then Gloriana was wearing a wig, a midlife bout with smallpox divesting her of her natural crowning glory. The woman's suit, however, was a transitivity. It hid most of her femininity in drab tones and a cut surely designed to downplay her figure. Or the first show of the new life within her growing. How he despised such modern conventions. Especially on a lady of such potential. He allowed himself to momentarily envision the small lass in the silks of his age, the rustling skirts over a farthingale. It would have been a vision indeed. He sighed to himself over such useless whimsy. Stroking his clipped, pointed beared he made note what room below him the two occupied. Closing his eyes he listened, picking the rhythm of their heartbeats out from those of their neighbors. Two loud, steady rhythms almost obliterating the third, faster beating organ. Sitting himself as comfortably as he could Jared prepared himself for a boring morning of playing nursemaid. He'd leave as the sun rose. Secure in the knowledge that those who would harm his new charges shared the same disadvantages as he did. ##### HOLIDAY INN CLEVELAND AIRPORT 8:00am Scully finished with her hair and passed Mulder his jacket as the banging started on their hotel room door. Mulder opened it to be faced with two faces, one gaurded, one openly smiling. "We decided to drop by and take you out to breakfast." Hope swept past Mulder into the room to embrace Scully. "Wow, Dana, you look great." She motioned the smaller girl in. "Guys, this is Karen Haas. Karen, this is Mulder and Scully." "You're married and still call each other by your last names?" Karen smirked. "Karen, I told you they were weird, it covers a multitude of sins." Hope winked and grabbed Mulder's arm. "Come on, there's this great restaurant not far from here with a killer breakfast buffet." "All right. I'm sure we can spare some breakfast time." Mulder looked at Scully, who nodded. "Personally, I'm starved," she added. "Then let's go." The restaurant was small and homey. The buffet was, as promised, packed with more food varieties of food than should be legal. "So, are you getting anywhere with this case?" Karen finally asked. Mulder had to give her credit, she'd held out twenty minutes after meeting them. "I'm sorry, Karen, I can't tell you that. Why don't you tell us about Karla?" He tore into a link of breakfast sausage much to Hope's obvious amusement. "What do you want to know?" Karen drank down her coffee and signaled the waitress for more. "That she had nightmares? That her momma let her boyfriends have their goes at her since she was twelve? That she and I used to shoot up for a mutual escape?" Mulder and Scully had stopped eating. "I'm sorry, Karen." "Why? There's nothing for you to be sorry for. You weren't MY father. You weren't any of Karla's momma's boyfriends. You were never any of our customers. You didn't give Rico free reign. You are the people who try to put a stop to all the crap in the world. There's nothing for you to be sorry about. If you want to be pissed off, fine, be pissed off, but don't be sorry. Don't apologize for what you can't change, change what you can." Karen nodded to the waitress as she filled her cup. "This sermon has been brought to you by the Reverand Karen Hass, feel free to leave a donation at the door," Hope intoned into her spoon. That got a muffin tossed at her head by a smiling Karen. "Hey, Dana, drink your OJ, isn't it supposed to be great for the passenger?" Scully shook her head. "That's before pregnancy. But I may need the sugar before the day's out." She sipped at the juice. "So when is the current due date?" Karen asked, turning the conversation to lighter things. "December 21st. It's going to be a Christmas baby." The meal was interrupted by a ringing cell phone. Mulder and Scully looked at each other. "Mine." Mulder reached into his suitcoat and extracted the offending object. "Mulder." He listened for a while made a few per functionary remarks then hung up. "Sorry ladies, we gotta go. Scully." Scully slid out of the booth followed by Mulder. "We'll get the tab, just eat and enjoy." "Duty calls." Hope smiled weakly. "Um... let me know when you have time. I already know our weekend plans are shot." "Sorry, Hope. I wish..." Mulder spread his hands. "I know. Comes with the territory. Go. Do FBI things." She waved them off. Mulder payed the tab at the cashier and opened the door for Scully. "What do we have this time?" Scully asked as they headed for the car. "Four street people from a homeless camp on the west side." "Four? Our killer is escalating." "Killers, Scully, there is no way a single killer could tear apart four people." Mulder stated grimly as he started the car. Chapter 6. ------------- ALLEY BETWEEN 9TH AND 10TH STREETS WEST END, DOWNTOWN CLEVELAND, OHIO The alley stank of garbage, excrement and vomit. As soon as they walked past the police tape Scully froze and braced one hand against the rough brick, graffiti-covered wall. Mulder paused. "Are you ok?" She nodded, but her lips were pressed into a tight line. "The smell. It just hit me wrong." She was, in fact, fighting valiantly to keep her breakfast. It wasn't the first time in the last three months smells had effected her, but it was, so far, the worst incident. "You can wait back in the car. The smell won't be so bad at the coroner's office." She shook her head and stiffened her spine. "I'm fine, Mulder. I can do my job." "I wasn't suggesting you couldn't. I was just..." "I'm FINE." She swept past him and smiled at the first officer on the scene. The alley had housed a small community of homeless by the looks of the wooden crates, blankets and cardboard boxes. What it held now was a carnal house. Splatter patterns decorated the graffiti ridden brick walls like an obscene expression of modern art. Pieces of bodies were thrown about. Mulder crouched next to a leg. It was still encased in its filthy trousers. It had no foot, and had appeared to be ripped off at the hip joint. The only blood was what soaked the edges of the trousers. Not nearly enough for the damage done. "It's like a fuckin jigsaw puzzle." The plainclothes cop behind him announced over his shoulder. "Only way we know fer sure there's four victims is by a head count. Literally." He lifted a blanket to Mulder's left. It had served as a door to a packing crate house. The head of a grizzled man in his late fifties screamed silently from a metal dog dish. "I'm Detective Sullenburger." He used his free hand to shake Mulder's. "Fox Mulder," He inclined his head to where Scully was examining a torso, "Dana Scully." "What brought in the feds to this little party?" Sullenburger asked. Mulder took over holding up the blanket to examine the head. It hadn't fallen there, or been tossed into the bowl, but placed, so that it faced the opening. A sick joke. "Similar slayings in New York." Scully crouched beside him. She was pale, but it was the only indication of her previous discomfort. "Three male, one female. The men were all crudely castrated as far as I can tell, " she smiled slightly as Mulder and Detective Sullenburger winced, "and the missing... organs were inserted into the female's orifices. Ritualistic?" "Insane," Mulder muttered. "No real pattern for a ritual. But there is posing involved. Still no idea how the victims are torn apart?" She shook her head. "I wasn't able to identify anything but post mortem bruising in the configuration of fingers and hands. I was able to spot at least two different sizes of these finger marks, which supports your theory of more than one killer. But as to HOW they can pull apart a human body? I have no idea." A stick thin and malnourished mutt darted out from between two crates and began to lick at a too-small pool of blood. It's little pink tongue dipping into the dark, clotted mass. A uniformed cop kicked it out of the way. Mulder turned back to Scully to see her scampering away before crouching beside a dumpster and losing her fight with her breakfast. He was at her side immediately. "I'm fine, Mulder,"she wiped at her mouth. "Bullshit. Just because your stomach is no longer made of cast iron doesn't mean you are any less of an agent. You breezed through the autopsy last night. The smell and sights here have ME wanting to run for some pepto. You go back to the car." His hand rubbed up and down her back, "Once these are bagged and tagged and cleaned up you get to go to work." She nodded stiffly and walked back to the car. Her whole carriage displaying an unspoken anger. She was far from happy with this. "Some people can't take it," Sullenburger muttered from around his cigarettes. "She's a pathologist." Mulder felt the need to defend her. "It's just that she's pregnant, and things that never affected her before are affecting her now." The cop nodded. "Sorry, didn't mean to offend. Know what it's like though. My wife was tossin it every time she smelled pine sol when she was carryin our first." He eyed Mulder. "This yer first?" Mulder was taken aback for a moment. Gut instinct being to throw the cop off the scent, then remembering it didn't matter anymore, that they were married and carried an unofficial stamp of approval. "Yea, it's our first." He nodded. Hope didn't count in regards to the question and Mulder felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't been there when her mother was going through all this bullshit. "If the smell gets to 'er again, get some strong fruit flavored hard candy, like Jolly Ranchers. Tell her to suck on the candy and breathe through her mouth. Only thing that worked with my Linda." Sullenburger moved away from Mulder and started shouting orders to a team of forensic specialists. CLEVELAND MEDICAL EXAMINER'S OFFICE Scully emerged from a side room and tucked a few stray strands of hair up into her surgical cap. "Scully, wait." Mulder caught her shoulder. "Mulder, I'm fine, I can do this." Her stare was angry and defiant. Mulder held up his hands. "Didn't think you couldn't." He dug into his pocket and brought out a small bag of Halls Menthol cough drops. "I was told today that if you suck on candy and breathe through your mouth when smells get to you then they aren't so bad. And I happened to recall you have a particular taste for menthol." The anger evaporated into a wry smirk. She smacked his arm but took the proffered bag. "Mulder, you are the only man alive who can twist innuendo into a gentlemanly gesture." "I try." He grinned. "While you're here I have a funeral to attend. Maybe the killers will attend Karla's funeral to gloat." Looking out the window to the clear afternoon sky he shook his head. "I doubt it though. I'm laying odds I won't see Arianna Llewellyn either." Scully snorted. "So now she's a vampire? Mulder I think you should read less Stoker and more of your psychology magazines." "Stoker's boring... now Anne Rice... there's a woman who knows how to use words." Scully tied on her mask. "Mulder, having me read you Exit To Eden over the phone does NOT count as reading Anne Rice." She disappeared through the doors leading to the morgue before he could retort. ##### JACOB-DAVIS FUNERAL HOME Mulder sat next to Bill Sullenburger. They were not the only police presence, two more officers were outside. They were all trying to blend in, but failing. Mulder knew they all stuck out like swollen joints. The mourners were mostly eighteen and under with the exception of teachers, and staff from the Tyche House, and a few people in their mid-twenties. There was a solidarity among the small gathering, and many tears. It was a depressing scene, made more so by the lack of a casket. Only a picture of the deceased on a small table surrounded by flowers. Flowers, arrangements in all shapes and sizes adorned the small room, the air was sickly sweet with their fragrance. Mulder saw Hope come through the door. Karen Haas walked between Hope and a young woman who made him think of Kes on Star Trek: Voyager. Same general build, same blond haircut. Normal ears, though. Hope and the other girl each held one of Karen's hands. Hope saw Mulder and gave him a small nod as she walked with Karen over to a group of kids. Karen said something to her companions then began talking, tearfully, with the group who had been waiting. Hope patted Karen's shoulder then crossed to Mulder. "Glad you could make it. Karla would be pleased." Hope sat next to Mulder, trying to help him and Detective Sullenburger blend in a bit more. "How's Karen holding up?" Mulder smiled slightly in appreciation. "It's hard to tell. She gets these quiet moments when I can tell she's hurting, but then she bounces back into her usual gregarious self." She looked back at her friend. "Ruthie and I are going to take her out tonight, try to get her mind off it." "Just be careful." Mulder could no more stop himself from saying it than he could stop his own heartbeat. Just as he was sure Hope couldn't stop the obligatory eye roll. "Yes, DAD." She crossed her arms and shook her head at the gathering. "Remind me to arrange for a good old Irish Wake for my own funeral. Lots of loud music, food and maybe a laser light show. I hate these things. You leave feeling worse than when you entered." "I don't think enjoying yourself is part of the funeral plan." Mulder chided. "Why not? A funeral is for the living not the dead. The dead are gone on to a better place. It's the living who are trying to let go, to say goodbye." Hope shrugged. "I don't feel any gaping hole in my life that Daddy didn't have a funeral. I said my farewells at his grave side, but I could have done THAT just as well anyplace at all. I try to remember him with joy and happiness. I miss him, and the place he left is a dull ache I don't think will ever really go away, but he wouldn't want me to wallow in misery. This," she waved her hand at the room, "is wallowing in misery just for the sake of wallowing." "Some people find tears cathartic," Bill Sullenburger chimed in. Hope smiled at him. "I suppose. But I'm the type who wants their tears to be private, not a floor show, not forced because I feel I SHOULD cry, just because everyone is watching me and expecting it. Grief is an emotion, not an obligation." "And who is this charmer?" Sullenburger's sarcasm wasn't lost on either Hope or Mulder. "This is Hope Jamison. My daughter." The last was said carefully. Mulder still felt the word strange on his tongue, the concept alien to his psyche. He felt the deep connection to Hope, the fierce protectiveness, the endless guilt of not knowing her... but the idea of having a teen-age daughter was still one he was acclimating himself to. "I thought you said that..." Sullenburger looked embarrassed and confused. "Scully is having OUR first. Hope, here, was a surprise package." Hope nodded. "My life is a soap opera. Nah, the soaps would toss out this story as too weird." Karen had left her group of friends and joined Hope. "See anyone out of place? Anyone you don't know?" Mulder asked more out of form then any feeling he'd luck out. It was too light out for the killers to gloat now. "No. I can name everyone here." Karen looked sadly at a thin blonde little girl. Mulder recognized Kimberly Elko, Tyche House's current youngest resident. "Are you done?" Hope nudged her friend. "Yeah. I said goodbye. Ruthie says you two plan on kidnapping me. Isn't that a federal offense?" Karen looked at Mulder. "Only if they don't bring you back," he answered, deadpan. "Where is Ms. Llewellen? I'd hoped to talk to her." "Ari?" Karen shook her head. "She hates funerals. She said her good byes privately." As Hope, Karen and Ruthie left so did the entertainment value of the surveillance. It got depressing again fairly quickly while Mulder ruminated on the daylight absence of Tyche House's mistress. Chapter 7. ---------------- Scully peeled off both pair of surgical gloves and nodded to the Diener, Kevin Jones. The longtime employee of Cleveland's ME began the clean up procedure as Scully removed her scrubs and deposited them in the biohazard waste bin. She crunched the cough drop in her mouth as she reached for the toxicology files that had been rushed through. She'd been busy for the last six hours and hadn't gotten to them yet. Her phone rang as if on cue. She had the suspicion Mulder had worked out the approximate time she'd need for each autopsy and only called when she was done. When it was clear. When he didn't have to watch. "Scully." She crunched the cough drop again by way of telling him she'd used him method and was grateful for the gesture. "Guess who never showed for the funeral?" "President Clinton, Big Bird or Stephen Spielberg?" "Ha, ha. Don't you think it's a little odd that the person in charge of the Tyche House was conspicuous in her absence?" "No, what I find odd is your assertation that's she's among the walking dead. Guess what I found while you were sitting on your duff watching pretty young things in little black dresses?" "Damn, caught in the act. What, pray tell, did you find, Agent Scully." Dana swallowed the last of the drop. "One of the victims was not homeless by the quality of his clothes and condition of his Rolex. Which has eliminated robbery as a motive by the way. Also, three of the victims had high levels of heroine in their system, including our well-to-do male. Of them only Mr. Well-to-do had scars and cellular buildup to suggest a regular habit. All had a fresh intravenous needle mark in their left arm. The fourth, another male, was one step away from an alcoholic coma, but no drugs." "One male also had blood in his stomach. Not his type. I'm going to assume he was forced to ingest it. Before you ask, it's normal blood, Mulder. Most likely from the female. The sexual mutilation and posing appears to have been staged post mortem. And finally, ash." "Bless you." She smiled slightly. "Very funny. The ash seems to be the industrial grade frequently used by municipal areas during the winter. There wasn't a lot of it, but the interesting thing was one of our killers had long nails. This person's nails cut into their victim as they were performing the mutilations, and in those cuts were more traces of ash." "Have I told you today that I love you?" His voice purred over the phone. "Nope. Better not let your wife hear you talking like that. I hear she has a mean temper." A chuckle over the line. "So have you run a trace on what places in the city stores industrial grade ash?" "No. *I've* been busy. That's YOUR job." "Yes, ma' am. Hungry?" "Yes. Plans?" "Yes. Pick you up in... twenty minutes?" "Yes." She hung up and went to wash up. ##### TINK'S NIGHTCLUB 7:30pm Hope moved her straw up and down in her glass. Across the table Karen was on her third beer, and Ruthie on her fourth. The music was loud, the lights colorful and in constant motion, the drinks were... well how great could 7-Up get? Even with the twist of added lime? She smiled to herself as Ruthie whispered something into Karen's ear making Karen erupt into laughter. Karen was not drunk, yet. Hope knew she was just starting to get a buzz. Karen didn't get really drunk. She hated the total loss of control. She'd lost control of so much of her life she clung to her own sense of power, fiercely, now. Drinking down the last of her soda Hope signaled their waitress. "Another pop, please." The woman looked from her glass to the Designated Driver sticker on the strap of her sundress and nodded. Hope smiled to herself as the woman left to fill the order. If Fox Mulder knew Hope had a fake ID he'd most likely blow his stack and try to ground her till she was thirty. Never in a million years would he believe she used it to get into bars with her older friends then made herself their designated driver, spending the nights scarfing free pop and assuring her friends and acquaintances made it home in one piece. Nope, because she had it on the authority of a certain old journal that one Fox Mulder used to have a fake ID and he didn't use it for altruistic tendencies. He also had a taste for Scotch on the rocks or single malt whiskey when not imbibing in Budweiser. If he had any idea just how many incriminating tidbits Connie MacKenzie kept in her journal he'd be mortified. Of course some little things Hope found out she just did NOT need to know. What girl wants to know her father is a great kisser? Eeeew. "Wanna dance?" Karen looked at Hope with a glimmer in her eye. Karen knew that dancing was a shared passion. Hope smiled slightly. Karen was all she had left. Her last link to her entire life before now. She'd lost her mother too young, only two months ago her father was taken from her. She never was one to easily make friends. In grade school she had plenty, but as she advanced too quickly kids her own age avoided her, and the kids in her classes didn't want to hang out with a 'baby'. She thanked God she had been roomed with Karen in college. Karen didn't care that Hope was just fifteen when they met. She saw Hope as a little sister, and adopted her as readily as the Jamison's had. Now Karen was all that was left. Hope was uncertain of her future with the Mulders. Oh, sure, Fox seemed to want to know her, to build something with her, to feel responsible for her. But the fact was she would never be able to be his kid the way the child Dana carried would be. He never saw her first steps, never told her bedtime stories, never chased away the boogie man under her bed. They had no past. They had to build from scratch. It wasn't either of their fault, it just was. And it made for an uncertain future at best. "Three's a crowd." Hope answered as she smiled at Ruthie. "Not in this place. Come on." Karen grabbed Hope's hand and pulled her along. Hope found herself in a tight circle with Karen on one side and Ruthie on the other. The moved in pretty good synch at the end of the current song. Three female bodies writhing fluidly, swept away by the strains of music. Three nymphs tempting any satyr. One song ended and other began. Hope grinned as she recognized the first strains of Celine Dion. /No more sadness./ How appropriate. As the heavy drumbeat came in, hips swayed in unison. An unconscious sexuality rolled off the three in waves. /I wanna be the one to make you happy. I wanna be the one to give you hope./ Hope spun, her arms over her head. She jumped to feel hands settle on her waist. She found herself looking into fathomless pools of exquisite gray. Eyes so light they picked up the color of each flashing strobe light. Eyes that held her. Pinned her. Looked into her soul. Eyes framed by a face to make Michelangelo weep. High cheekbones, fine, straight nose, a mouth that could only be described as sensuous, pale, ivory skin all framed by a shaggy cascade of pure black silk. His hair fell to below his shoulders. He wore a leather jacket adorned with chains. His very essence screamed both danger and desire. He was magnificent. And he began to dance with HER. His hips moved with hers and his eyes captivated her. Grace like that should be bottled. She began to grow warm under his frankly appraising gaze. /You can't be sure of who you met. You just don't know what you might get. Cause in these crazy times we live in, Love might turn into regret/ His hands were pale, long fingered and fine boned. Gentleman's hands. White against her black dress. They began to slide up and down on her hips as he pulled her closer. Excitement raced through her veins. This couldn't be happening. Not to her. She was too tall, not enough chest, her jaw too square. Her only good feature was her eyes, and she just remembered she wasn't even wearing eye makeup. She tore her gaze from his and looked to Karen who was grinning at her and she caught a quick thumbs up as Karen spun herself and Ruthie away. /But you could be the one to change my point of view./ Her dance partner smiled at her and angels wept. His body fitted to hers in a way that weakened her knees. The dance moved to new levels. Ones she was unsure of. Lost. She was lost in unfamiliar territory. Uncharted territory. His hands slid up her sides. His thumbs brushed over the curves of her breasts. It was blatant. She should slap him and stalk out. But his eyes held her and she was helpless. He leaned into her. His lips brushed hers. Cool against her flushed skin. Fleeting, yet shocking her to her core. He was seducing her. His lips moved along her cheek and settled near her ear. "Sweetness. Innocence." She backed away a bit, not out of his embrace, away from their dance, but enough to look at his perfect face. "Innocence? And you like corrupting innocence?" She challenged. His laugh was rich and vibrated through her skin. "I like you, little girl." His eyes seemed to blaze for a moment as his cool fingers brushed down her throat. Karen swayed into Ruthie with a secret smile. Her eyes darted back to Hope and Mr. Beautiful. She frowned. Something was wrong. The way his hands flowed over Hope. Hope would never... he was pushing too hard. Possessive. She knew that body language. She knew that kind of guy. He was hunting. Not Hope, he wasn't. She couldn't handle this kind of predator. Karen moved herself and Ruthie over to their table. Her eyes met Ruthie's and through eye signals she pointed out the trouble and the plan. She picked up her full beer glass and walked towards Hope, swaying her steps a bit, slowing her movements. "Um... I don't think I should..." Hope was backing away and he was reaching out. Karen stumbled over a nonexistent obstacle and spilled her beer over the guy's Danzig t-shirt and rich-looking leather jacket. He let out a roar and his face was magnificent in it's anger. "Oops. Oh... I am soooo... sorry." She draped her arm around Hope's shoulders. "Baby, go get the nice man some napkins." She giggled drunkenly. Hope darted away quickly and Karen leaned into the guy. She winked conspiratorially and smiled as if she'd drunk twice as much as she had. "She with us, darlin. Sorry, I'm sure you're a real nice guy and all, but none of us... swing in that tree, get me?" His eyes glared at her, making Karen want to sizzle up and curl away in a wisp of smoke. "I think you are mistaken. About a great many things." Hope returned with a pile of napkins from the bar. "I'm so sorry. Karen, I think we better get you home now." Hope wasn't fooled for a minute, and she shot her friend a thankful glance before wrapping her arm about her waist as if to steady her walk. Ruthie joined them, the three girls disappearing through the doors into the night. The man fumed silently until a raven-haired beauty lay a hand on his shoulder. "The Innocent, Ace?" Queenie flinched at the glare she got. "No." His eyes narrowed and looked at the door. "The bitch." Queenie looked across the bar and nodded once at Jako. Chapter 8. ---------------- THE GILDED PHAN RESTAURANT CLEVELAND, OHIO The restaurant was small. The food was Vietnamese. The company was unbeatable. The decor... was passable. They sat facing each other across a serviceable wooden table on sturdy chairs. The walls were decorated with Asian art prints and the doors were hung over with beaded curtains. Scully wielded her chopsticks with the same precision she'd earlier wielded a knife, with the same economy of movement. She lowered the utensils once again into her little clay pot of com tay cam and stared at Mulder. "What? Do I have soup on my tie?" He set down his bowl of shrimp and watercress soup to look at the neckwear in question. "I couldn't tell on a bet." She looked at the riot of purples, greens and blues. "I was wondering why we're here eating a nice dinner and not out touring Ash dumps." Mulder nodded at her com tay cam and she obediently plucked a piece of chicken up with her chopsticks and popped it into her mouth. He watched her lips close over the tender, white meat and his mouth turned up at the corners as lovely erotic thoughts flooded his brain. "Mulder?" He snapped out of it with a sheepish look. "Because I have Sullenburger and his people doing that. That's what the local PD is for, right?" Her answering look was droll and told him she wasn't buying it. "You need to eat, this stuff is different and healthy, and I like looking after you once in a while. I'm willing to bet you didn't eat anything more than a candy bar from the ME's vending machine all afternoon." Scully frowned. She hadn't. Mostly because she didn't want to humiliate herself again, but then because she was so lost in the autopsies she just hadn't thought about it. "See. I know you too well," he continued, "so, I'm making sure you eat and get myself fed as well. When we're DONE... then we'll find out what the PD have come up with. Sullenburger said there is at least twenty five storage sheds in the city and surrounding areas. So they have a wide search area." ##### MUNICIPAL STORAGE SITE #8 Cory Chester looked over at his partner. Jeff Shultz looked back and shrugged. This was the third storage site they'd hit tonight. Cory got out of the car and looked at the building. These things always reminded him of an igloo covered in roofing tile. It was then that he noticed the trucking door had been rolled up about a foot. "Maybe we got lucky." He nodded to the opening. Jeff answered by pulling his gun. "When I was praying to get lucky tonight this was NOT what I had in mind." Jeff smirked. "Oh? Jill cutting you off or somethin?" Cory brought out his own gun and the two men approached the open truck bey door from the side. "No." He whispered. "If her temp is up, then tonight is my lucky night though." He winked in the darkness and Cory snorted. Cory couldn't see anything inside, the faint light from the security lights out here barely penetrated the opening. He reached and pushed the door further upward. Three feet of space. He could make out shapes and angles in the darkness, but not much else. Then he heard the sob. It was the sound of a child. A crying child. Jeff looked at him. He'd heard it, too. "Anyone in here?" Jeff called in and got a smack in the back of the head from Cory for his effort. "Look, we're backlit, if it's our UNSUB, then he already sees us." Jeff rationalized. Cory sighed and climbed the metal ladder set into the wall. He ducked under the bay door, sensing Jeff right behind him. The sobbing was coming from the left. "Police, come on out, with your hands where I can see them." Cory pointed his Glock in the direction of the sound. Jeff opened the bay door completely and the security lights flooded in. Cory saw a kid step out from behind some gas barrels. The boy was rail thin and wearing jeans and a once white t-shirt now caked with mud. His hair was blond, but matted. The boy sniffed again and rubbed at his nose. He wore loose rubber bands of different colors as bracelets, and one braided leather thong. A friendship bracelet they had been called in Cory's day. "Are you hurt?" Cory asked, keeping his gun out. These days kids were as dangerous as adults. "It hurts," the kid muttered, looking at the floor, his shoulders shaking. "What hurts? You got a name, kid?" Jeff moved to Cory's side. "Doug. Dougie Wilson. And it hurts all over. In my head the most." The kid swayed slightly. Jeff tucked away his gun. "You're one of Ari Llewellyn's kids aren't you? Son, she's been worried sick about you." Jeff managed to catch the kid as he fell. "Damn. Cory, call an ambulance." Jeff checked the boy's eyes, pulling open an eyelid. "Shit... something weird..." Cory saw Jeff checking for a pulse as he turned and hurried to the car, with its radio. "Hurry, I can't get a pulse," was called from inside, "I'm gonna start CPR." Cory opened the car door and grabbed the radio. "This is Echo Charlie 13 calling for immediate medical assistance at Municipal storage shed 8 on Irvine. We have a white male, about twelve years old. He just collapsed and has no pulse. Officer already starting CPR." The dispatch answered. "Echo Charlie 13 we have an ambulance on its way. Any indicators as to what caused the collapse?" Cory thumbed the radio. "Yeah. Looks like the kid was on something. I think he OD'd." With a sigh, he tossed the radio back into the car and hurried back to assist Jeff. The storage shed was quiet. "Jeff how's he doi..." Cory stopped dead in his tracks and he pulled his gun once more. Jeff Shultz was laying on the floor of the storage shed. His throat eas gone. A ragged and surprisingly bloodless wound. "Oh fuck..." Cory swept the room as he backed to the open door. Something slammed into him from behind. He rolled and found himself facing the kid. He saw what Jeff had meant by 'something weird'. The boy's eyes were yellow, and practically glowing. Bill started to bring his gun around but the boy caught his wrist and squeezed. Cory cried out as he felt as well as heard bones snap. Whatthefuck? The boy grinned down at him. His chin was covered with a dark wetness. Two of his front teeth were sharply pointed. "It doesn't hurt so much anymore." The boy darted forward with uncanny speed. So fast Cory barely felt his throat being ripped away at all. ##### A still shadow tsked from the open truck bay. "Deuce, Deuce, Deuce... I thought we told you to stay put." Queenie stepped over the first dead cop. "Come on. It's time to go home. Ace is not gonna be happy with your between meal snacks..." ##### Mulder thought the place was better decorated than most Christmas displays. There was more flashing lights, anyway. Bathing everything in swirling reds. Scully got out of the car first. They'd gotten the call as they were leaving the restaurant. She noticed the glares directed at them right away. Open hostility. Not good. "What the fuck do you have us looking for, Mr. FBI?" One cop started towards Mulder but a large black man stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. The cop looked at the man angrily, but moved back. "What happened?" Mulder approached the black man. Captain Hill. "Two of my men are dead. Cory Chester and Jeff Shultz. They called in a kid OD'd on drugs and when the ambulance got here the crew found both men with their throats ripped out. Needless to say, you two are not real popular round here right now." "Captain Hill... I'm sorry about your men." Scully saw that Mulder had paled under the color leaching police lights. "However, *I* didn't kill him, nor did Agent Scully. What we have to do now is try to find who DID. Evidently the ash lead was the right direction." Mulder gestured to the building. "Well we know one of the UNSUBs is a Caucasian male around twelve years old. That was the last thing we heard from Billy." Hill's voice was clipped. He was angry. Neither agent could blame him. "Captain, we need to catch these... people... alive," Mulder stressed. "Agent Mulder, every cop in this city wants a piece of these people now. I don't think I can control the shoot first ask questions later response this kind of thing brings out. I'm not sure I want to." Mulder nodded. "I don't think it would do you any good anyway. Come on, Scully." He stopped when Bill Sullenburger stepped into his path. "Look, Mulder, the guys are pissed off. I'm pissed off. They need a focus for that, and since we don't have the unsub here, you two just got the shit detail of being their punching bags. I know it aint fair. But it's how it is." Billy Shrugged. "I gotta go tell Cory's wife. Ya know, I went to high school with him. He was a good guy. He didn't deserve this." Mulder nodded. "I know. I don't have to like it, but I know." Billy looked over at the glaring faces of his coworkers. "Get outta here before they get really violent, will ya?" They retreated to the safety of the car. "This was the last thing we needed. The whole Cleveland police force out for blood and pissed off at us." She crossed her arms. "Nope." Mulder started the car and backed away from the building. "THAT is the last thing we needed." He nodded at the approaching news vans. The media might only make passing mention of the deaths of transients and ex-prostitutes, but they ate up stories of dead cops. "Just great," she muttered. ##### Jared had been trying to place the woman's face since he had resumed his watch. She was strikingly familiar to him. But how he knew her was not coming. He'd watched them eat, and followed them to the place that reeked of blood. The storage shed was crawling with mortal police. He couldn't get too close, and the scent of so many people covered the scent of whichever members of the House Of Cards were here. Disappointing. He guarded his charges for Ari, but his standing orders were if he came across any of the Sabbat to tail them and find their refuge. He found himself following his current quarry too closely, he backed off before he was noticed. ##### KATHY HYLAND DORMITORY UNIVERSITY OF OHIO Hope sank gratefully to her bed. "You know, trying to keep up with you two is seriously endangering my moral integrity." Ruthie laughed. "Hope, you've got it to spare. But I gotta admit, that guy was HOT... and I don't even go for guys." She winked. "He was dangerous." Karen sat beside Hope and put her arm around her friend's shoulders. "Never let a guy pressure you into doing something you don't want to do. No matter how good looking he is." Hope glared. "I wasn't planning on it. I'm not stupid, you know. I was backing out of the whole situation when you rescued me." "Yes, you were, and you were being too nice, open and honest about it. That guy wasn't about to take no for an answer." Karen sighed and kissed Hope on the cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm mother henning you again. Bad habit. Remind me to break it some day. It's just that... I've lost one good friend this week, I don't want anything to happen to another. OK?" Hope nodded. "I understand. Now why don't you two get going. I'm gonna go take a shower and wash the smell of the club off me." Karen nodded. She looked at the clock. It was only eleven. "I'll be back by midnight. I'm just gonna walk Ruthie back to her dorm. We'll most likely stop in at the coffee shop for a few minutes and listen to the art students philosophize." "If you're late I'll understand. Hey Ruthie," Hope stood and patted the other girl on the cheek as she passed her on the way to the bathroom. "Just remember Karen doesn't do that meaningless sex thing anymore. So if you sleep with her make sure it means something." She ducked into the bathroom just in time to avoid the pillow thrown at her. Chapter 9. ---------------- Karen looped her arm through Ruthie's and smiled as they crossed the park. She always felt more at ease with women than with men. Maybe because from the age of twelve men had used her with no thoughts of her beyond her use as a sex object. The only people she knew were other girls similarly used. A sisterhood of misery. Once she found her way back to a life with a future men still came off as wanting something. The really nice ones were few and far between. Oh, she could admire the male form, even find a touch of lust for it. But it was other women who were understanding. Not pushy. Willing to let her set the pace. There was a gentleness to women that few men had. Ruthie personified that gentleness. "So are we gonna go listen to bad poetry at the coffee shop?" Ruthie asked softly. "If you want to. Maybe Kurt will be there tonight. He's actually very good. It is usually worth wading through the other junk to hear one of his poems." Karen nearly stumbled backward when the man materialized in front of them, as if he'd dropped from the sky. She recognized him instantly. The beautiful asshole from Tinks. She felt Ruthie squeeze her arm and Karen noticed the others. Three others. Another guy sporting a ridiculous mohawk and a nose ring, a woman and... "Dougie!" Karen's eyes went wide. "Dougie, what's going on? Where have you been?" The boy looked nervous and he bit his lip. "Karen, I didn't know it was you. I... I found Ace. I followed him. But I was caught." "Such a touching reunion." Beautiful purred. The group formed a circle around the two girls. They began to move counter clockwise and chant. Only Dougie remaining silent, looking lost as he partook of some strange ritual he didn't seem to understand. "All around the Mulberry Bush, the monkey chased the weasel. All around the Mulberry Bush..." Karen was moving from alarm to terror. She grabbed hold of Ruthie and was about to push her to make a run for it when the woman of the group surrounding them sprang forward. She buried her face into Ruthie's throat and the girl let out a scream of fear and pain. "POP goes the weasel" The others sang and laughed. Karen froze for a moment of incomprehension, disbelief. Then she let out a snarl of rage and she launched herself at the woman on top of her friend. The grabbed a fistful of black hair and yanked backwards with all her might. She felt hair tear loose as the woman roared back. Karen screamed. Ruthie's eyes were wide, her pupils were dilated. She was as pale as a ghost. A chunk was missing from her neck and blood pumped out in time to her heart beat. Karen felt herself pulled backwards. She screamed as bands of iron locked around her arms, preventing her from helping Ruthie. The bitch who had attacked Ruthie laughed and bent back over the girl. Her head bent. An obscene parody of a lover's caress. Karen kicked out at whoever held her. "You limp dicked, VD infested, cock sucking, motherfuckers!" Beautiful backhanded her. Pain exploded along her cheek, her head snapped to the side. The force of the blow sending her into merciful unconsciousness. ##### Hope heard the sound of sirens growing closer. A curious peek out her window showed flashing lights at the other end of the park. She closed her comparative anatomy textbook. The clock at her bedside announced it was 12:30. She frowned. Joking aside, Karen was rarely late. She felt her stomach clench. Something was wrong. Karen would have been walking through the park, right? A sense of dread choked her as she pulled on her sneakers and wrapped her robe around herself. ##### Scully hung up her phone with a sigh. Mulder was looking at her sideways. "What?" She licked her lips, hesitating. That alone had him immediately alert. "What?" he repeated. "There's been an attack at Ohio State. Campus security heard screaming and rushed to the scene. They found the body of a Caucasian female, one of the students from a nearby dorm." She saw Mulder pale, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. He pulled the car into a dangerous U-turn and pressed down on the gas. "Did they give a description?" Scully felt sick inside. "No. No description, no name. Mulder, the chances of it..." "Don't quote statistics at me, Scully. Not now." "It isn't her, Mulder." She tried to reassure him. When she touched his arm she felt his muscles were wound tight as iron. "You don't know that." His clipped answer was the last words he spoke as they drove. He saw the flashing lights on the campus. He drove to them and slammed on the breaks. He was out of the car and running for the police gathering, not willing to wait for Scully. She caught up to him. He was leaning over the covered form, looking beneath the tarp as a uniformed cop babbled to him. He was unnaturally still, tense. Scully swallowed the knot of dread in her throat and approached. She released the breath she hadn't been aware of holding when she peered under the tarp to see short, blonde hair. "Mulder..." "It's Ruthie." "What?" "Ruthie. She's... was Karen's girlfriend. She was with Karen and Hope tonight." She saw him looking around the park. "Was this the only body found?" she asked the uniformed cop and the two pale and shaking boys who she assumed where the campus security. "Yes ma'am. We didn't see much. Just followed the screams. What the hell did that? Some sort of animal?" The taller of the boys asked. Scully watched Mulder drop the tarp and slowly stand, looking across the park. Her eyes followed his and she felt her heart hammer in her chest. Relief, blessed relief. And what she felt could not be but a fraction of what Mulder was feeling. She looked at him and saw his eyes tear bright, and his hands shaking. ##### She walked at a normal pace until she got to within a hundred yards of the scene littered with ambulances and police cars. Then she saw Mulder stand up from a covered form. He was lit by the lights of the police cars and ambulance. She absently noticed the coroner's van. She broke into a run, her robe flapping behind her, heedless that she was only wearing a pair of thin, cotton pajamas. Her heart skipped several beats. Mulder, Dana, both looking so strange, their expression a mixture of grief and overwhelming relief. "What happened?" She pushed passed a cop trying to stop her. Her answer was to be swept up in an embrace that bruised ribs and threatened the integrity of her spine. She was taken aback by it, but wrapped her arms around Mulder in return. He was shaking slightly. She felt his hand at the back of her head, pressing her close. Through his clothes and trench coat she could hear his own strong heart beat. "Dad?" She pulled away, and he released her with reluctance. His reaction scared the shit out of her. Not that she minded. She'd learned fast that Mulder was not an overly demonstrative person. Having him hold her felt good, comforting, but that he had done it... "Dad, what's going on?" He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her away from the scene, from the tarp covering what could only be a body. "Ohmygod... no... no..." She began to shake. Please God, she prayed, Please, not Karen. Don't take Karen away from me too. Let her be all right. Let her be safe. Not Karen. Not Karen. Notkarennotkarennotkarennotkaren... "Hope." Mulder's voice forced her to concentrate, to look at him, to meet the eyes that hers mirrored. "Hope, we need to know if Karen is with you." "Karen?" Her knees buckled. If he was asking that whoever was under that tarp, it wasn't Karen. She was safe. Safe. Please let her be safe.... "Hope..." "No, she was taking Ruthie back to her dorm, maybe stopping at the coffee shop..." Mulder looked to Scully and she nodded, moving to talk to the campus security, asking after the coffee shop... "What's happened?" She forced herself to be calm, to focus. Panic would solve nothing. "It's... it's Ruthie." His eyes were full of compassion. His hand never left her shoulder and he gave her a small squeeze. "She was... she was murdered, Hope. Karen didn't return?" Hope felt her eyes fill with tears, her resolve breaking even as he spoke. "No. Oh God... no, she never came back. She was late. She's rarely late." "Ok, we are going to put out an APB on Karen. She isn't here, Hope. She could be fine." "You don't believe that. Don't feed me a line of bullshit. I need you to be honest with me. The chances aren't good, are they?" He shook his head. If Karen were not back at the dorm, the situation did not look good for her. Hope bit her lip, unaware that she'd drawn blood. Mulder, unsure what to do, but needing to do something, anything, enfolded Hope in his arms once more. She stiffened at first, then melted. She shook slightly, and he was aware of her soft sobs. He stroked her hair and let her cry. He couldn't tell her everything would be all right. He couldn't lie, not to her. He looked up to see Scully watching them. Her face sad, keeping her distance. He nodded to her. She approached slowly. "They never arrived at the coffee shop." Her words brought a louder sob from the girl in Mulder's arms. They were like a pronouncement of death. ##### LOCATION UNKNOWN Karen woke groggily. Her head pounded with pain. It shot from her cheek and eye into her skull. She opened her eyes, startled only for a moment that one of them wasn't opening. Swollen shut, she guessed. It wasn't the first time she'd been hit. She felt cold, and shivered, trying to move her arms to hug herself. But her arms wouldn't move. She stifled a cry when she took in her surroundings. It was dark, and smelled of mold and sawdust. She was laying on cold concrete, naked. Her arms were held to the floor by the punk with a mohawk. "Wakey, wakey." He grinned coldly down at her. Beautiful bent over her. She looked around and didn't see the woman who'd killed Ruthie, or Dougie. Beautiful's smile made her skin crawl. He held something up for her to see. "Yet another fallen angel I see." His cold fingers brushed down the track marks on her arms. Old scars, faded now. The needle in his hand was a familiar sight and she cried out. No. Not again. Not ever again. Please God. If you are up there like Hope claims, not again... Her prayer went unanswered as she felt the sting of the needle, the warm flood of slow extacy move up her arm, pumping through her body. "You shouldn't have interfered, bitch. By the time we're done with you you'll beg us for death. An old whore, aren't you? Can't teach an old whore new tricks." He reached for the buckle of his pants. Karen tried to kick him but he moved too quickly. Her glare was defiant, her body tense. She knew she was not going to escape. Not this time. Her final defiance was to leave that place. To float the warm waves of the drug, to let it take her away, to the safe place. To the place inside herself she'd discovered when her stepfather would sneak into her room as a child. The happy place where no one could touch her or hurt her. Away from her body. Little did she know, the cold gray eyes that bore into hers could touch her mind. She felt herself being pulled away from the safe place, away from the escape. She screamed in despair. She screamed in defiance. She screamed in pain. Chapter 10. ------------------ Jared watched his charges lead a young woman away. He could pick up their conversation. The young woman was Agent Mulder's daughter. He could see the resemblance. Did that mean she fell under his protection as well? He nodded, as long as they were together. He moved closer, sliding among the shadows. His nose detected the scent of the others, the smell of old blood from the corpse. He frowned. He could follow the scent, the impression they left behind. He thought to Arianna. Not words, nothing as simple as that. A single thought relayed what he had found, what he planned to do. His regret. His first duty had to be to his prince. Old lovers came second. He slipped away from the crowded scene and followed the scent. They had a mortal with them. Her blood scent was faint, but distinctive. ##### Mulder drove to the hotel. Hope was silent in the back seat. She hadn't even argued. She just nodded when he told her she was staying with them. Once there Mulder found the room next to his and Scully's unoccupied and he paid for it. Hope was listless. "Hope, I want you to take these and try to sleep." Scully pressed two small white pills into her hand. "What is it?" Hope looked up. "A very mild sedative." Hope took them without argument. "So what now? Just wait till someone reports a ... a body? Shouldn't you be out there looking for Karen?" Dana looked at Mulder and caught his pained look. "We have no witnesses, no evidence, no idea where she could be right now. The forensic team is pouring over that park. As soon as we know anything I'll let you know. Ok?" Hope nodded and her head began to fall. She lay back and slipped between the covers of the hotel bed. "Promise?" She sounded like a lost little girl, just then. Mulder's heart ached for her. He wanted to be able to make the pain go away, and he couldn't. He was helpless, and it was killing him inside. "I promise." He bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, to make up for all the times over the years he'd missed the chance. She was asleep by the time Scully pushed him from the room. "What'd you give her?" He sounded worried as they entered their own room. "Over the counter sleeping pills. Perfectly harmless, Mulder. But it's one thirty in the morning and she's emotionally exhausted. I wouldn't be surprised if she sleeps till noon." She crossed to the bathroom and started to change into her nightgown. When she returned Mulder was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall that separated their rooms, and still in his suit. She knelt before him and tugged his tie loose. She tossed it in the direction of their suitcases. "Mulder, you need to sleep, too." He nodded and managed to change into a pair of old shorts. Once in bed Scully turned off the light and lay on her side. She felt Mulder's cheek on her upper arm and his arm wrap around her to rest lightly on the beginning swell of her stomach. Junior chose that moment to do a rollover. She smiled into the darkness, knowing he had felt it, too. "I can't protect him, Scully." Her heart froze in her chest. Oh no, Mulder. Not now. "Him?" She tried to tease him out of it. "Him." He answered with certainty. "I just have this feeling, it's a him." "Becoming psychic are you?" She placed her hand on top of his. "I doubt it. Even if I were, I couldn't protect him. From the world, from the pain, from things that go bump in the night." "All we can do, as parents, is try. To pick up the pieces. To clean up the scrapes and bruises and to teach him how to handle what life will throw at him. No one can shield us from the pain of life, Mulder. It's part of living. It makes the good things so much better in comparison. It builds us and shapes us into who we are." "Yeah, I guess so. But this one is starting out with the deck stacked against him. We not only have to worry about the average freaks and psychos." "I know." She sighed softly. "I know that, Mulder. I knew that when I took the test, and you know what, I never once considered, despite everything, not going through with it." She rolled onto her back and felt Mulder use her breast as a pillow. His hand didn't move, as if, even now, he was trying to shield the tiny life there. "We have to take it one day at a time, just like any other people. And when the time comes, we get a really big dog and a fancy, Lone Gunmen approved security system." She ruffled his hair. "Oh, goodie, our home will resemble Fort Knox." "If you want it to. But you have to decide if what you want is to lock the world out, or ourselves in. We can't let ourselves become prisoners to fear. If we do, then they've already won." "How do you stop yourself from fearing?" he asked her. "It's not easy. But you replace the fear with vigilance." He didn't answer her. Just held her in silence until she fell asleep. She let sleep steal her away, even though she was aware that he was still awake, contemplating the nature of fear. ##### HECKMAN SAW MILL The trail led him here. He could feel the air, thick with dread. They had split up. Two of them and the mortal were here. Jared pulled his long hair back into a pony tail, tied with a black velvet ribbon. More manageable if he were to enter into battle. He heard a faint scuffing sound behind him and he whirled, peering into the darkness with cat's eyes. He let out a slow breath as he saw the small, slight form emerge from behind a stack of already cut lumber. "How did you find this place?" He asked her in a voice the barest breeze would carry away and render inaudible. "Do you think I've been sitting at my desk filling out paperwork all this time? I went to the storage shed when the police cleared out and caught the scent." Her face was grim, her small hands balled into fists. "They will die, Jared. They have brought Dougie over. A child. A little boy. Never to grow up. To know only the hunger. They will pay a thousand times over." "Ari, this isn't the time for melodramatic speeches. Two are inside. This is a place mortals work in, not their true lair. We have to find out what they're doing." Ari nodded and moved past Jared on silent feet. A small, lost wail cut through the night. Both of them moved in the direction of the cry. Barely human. Both looked into the dusty window. Both saw the abomination. A young woman, naked, bleeding, covered with a score of bites, held in the grip of one of the Sabbat, as another bent over her, burying his head in her neck. Feeding. Ari had only a half a second to curse the fact that she was with a four hundred year old vampire from the days of chivalry. One who tended to act before thinking. Just a half a second, before Jared had thrown himself through the window, filling the night with the sound of breaking glass and the security alarms. Unable to prevent more mayhem she leapt through the broken window after him. Both creatures inside turned to face them, dropping the girl, a forgotten, incidental heap on the floor. "Looky here. It's the Fairy Godmother and Prince fucking Charming come to rescue Sleeping Beauty." The taller of the two sneered. His face covered in blood. "Too late." He laughed then both of them moved in a blur. Ari moved to try and cut them off, but they were not going for the window. They ran out a side door, still laughing. She turned to see Jared bending over their victim. She bit her own lip, tasting the richness of her own blood. She was barely recognizable, her lips split, her eye swollen shut and Ari knew well the signs of rape... but it was Karen Haas, one of her own who was weakly holding her hand to her neck. Trying to stop the blood from seeping through her fingers, futily. Jared saw Ari's hesitation as he gathered the girl up in his arms, smelling her sweet blood as it soaked into his clothing, aware of the scent of the drug she'd be forced to take. "Go! You are older and faster than I. I'll tend to her. Go!" Ari nodded once and tore off through the door, literally. She tore it from its hinges. The sirens blared around him, and Jared stepped back out through the shattered window. The girl in his arms weighing nothing at all, he took her a safe distance from the building. He sat with her, holding her in his lap. Her eyes were large, dark, and clouded with pain, fear and the drug. She was clearly terrified of him. She didn't need to be. She was too pale. He clamped his hand over hers. She had lost too much blood. Her hand was covering an open wound. No neat little precise punctures. The Sabbat fed like animals. The poor child was dead, her body just didn't know it yet. She made a strangled sound in her throat. "Shhhh... look at me... look into my eyes. I will make it easier. I will take away the pain, mon petite. Shhhh... do not fight it any more. Do not prolong the inevitable. I cannot save you. Mine is the taking of life, and always shall be. Look into my eyes and see death as a welcome lover." His eyes bore into hers, commanding her mind to block the pain, to feel free and floating. To feel safe. She fought him. Her mind, confused, hurt, bent near to breaking, raged against dying. She fought it with all that she had. Her soul blazing, she defied death. Was prepared to spit in his face even as he came to embrace her. Brilliant. Her rage, her fighting soul, her courage in the face of what she had surely endured. Jared nodded, admiration plain on his pale features. "Very well, mon petite. We shall see what we can do." ##### They had spilt up as they fled. Ari could hear their mocking laughter. Which to follow? Which one was the leader? Both had flead into the forest. She made her choice and ran. Her feet taking a speed her shoes were never meant to sustain. The soles became hot against her flesh. She ignored it. She saw him up ahead. Reaching out her fingers barely brushed his hair. She grasped his earring instead. He let out a roar as she pulled back. The earring ripped free. She smelled his corrupt blood. He spun. She smiled. Not only had she pulled free his earring, but his nose ring as well. "It was a stupid fashion statement anyway." She dropped into a crouch, her eyes blazing. "Ace will make you fear your own shadow." He sneered. Ari silently cursed that she'd chased down the wrong idiot. He came at her. In the end he really hadn't stood a chance. He realized that just a fraction too late as a small hand connected with his chest and did not stop. His eyes grew wide as she pulled back, holding his unbeating heart before him. She tossed it to the ground, reached forward and closed her hands on either side of his head. One wet hand, one dry, she twisted even as he tried to claw out her eyes. He fell. His heart gone, his neck broken. Yet still, he lived. She took hold of his leather jacket and pulled him along. To a clearing. She smiled as she exacted her final revenge. She found it perfectly fitting considering the way his victims died. ##### She avoided the sound of sirens and followed the blood bond to Jared. She found him, a mile from the sawmill. He was shirtless. His shirt was wrapped around Karen. Arianna froze. Karen's arms and legs were no longer covered in deep bites, only the dark puckered scars of them. She cocked her head and could no longer hear the girl's feeble heartbeat. She walked closer, slowly, and saw Jared's blue eyes watching the girl's face, tenderly. He looked up at Ari. She looked and saw the redness of freshly healed flesh on his wrist. In the shape of a bite. Karen's eyes fluttered, and she moaned. Jared stood, still cradling her in his arms, holding her close. Possessively. Not the possession of a man to a woman, but of a father to a... Childe. "Jared... what have you DONE!" Chapter 11. ------------------ Dana Scully moaned in her sleep. <> Scully thrashed, trying to fight off an invisible opponent. Mulder's eyes snapped open. He knew at once what was wrong. He'd had enough nightmares to know the throes of one. Should he wake her or let her ride it out? Sometimes waking someone from a nightmare was the worse choice. They awoke dazed and confused and still half in the terror. He reached over and stroked her face, making shushing noises. Speaking softly into her ear. "It's a dream, it's only a dream. You're ok. You're safe with me." <> Scully awoke with a gasp. Her heart was no longer pounding, and she felt safe and secure. She felt Mulder's arms around her and he was stroking her hair. "Bad one?" "Yeah," she nodded and reached to touch his face, "but it had a happy ending." "Good." He looked over at the clock near the bed. 3:30am. "Go back to sleep." ##### Arianna fumed the entire trip to the Tyche House. She got out of her car and waited for Jared to park. He emerged from his gleaming, black Porsche carrying the still unconscious Childe in his arms. He had simply pointed out that Karen had been doomed from the damage done, and explained about her ravaged throat. He calmly met Ari's gaze as he related the girl's fight against death. "Chere', I had to admire her spirit. I have a weakness for little females who have a soul of steel wrapped in a soft package." His half-smile and teasing nature did NOT calm Ari. Ari glared as he walked past her now, cradling Karen like a babe. Karen stirred slightly in her weakened state and Ari felt Jared force the fledgling into a deeper sleep. "Shhh, mon petite. It was just a bad dream. All that went before was a bad dream. When you wake it will be to a whole new world." Ari opened the front door to the shelter. "I'm assuming you are keeping her unconscious while YOUR blood cleans the drug out of her system." "Of course. Ari, are you jealous?" Arianna snorted. "Hardly. I am NOT the jealous type. And if you were looking for a Bride and not a Childe... you have just picked the WRONG girl." Jared shook his head. "I saw into her mind. Into her pain. Her distrust of men was great, is greater now. I knew her preferences before I brought her to me. I don't care. I admire her spirit. She will be a great asset to my kind. Do you know that in four hundred years I have never had a daughter?" "So you choose NOW to have paternal urges? Come on, I think I have some clothes here that will fit her. We only have a few hours till dawn and much planning to do. You and she will stay with me this day." Ari walked through the hallway leading from the main room, away from the offices. She pounded heavily on Tom Sullivan's door. He flung it open, his long graying hair a wild mass around his head. He fumbled to put his glasses on. "Ari? What's wrong?" There was fear in his eyes. "Tom, in the morning I want you to get all the kids out of the Tyche House and into different motels. Open the bags of dirty laundry and put one in each room. Stuff the beds with pillows to make it look like the kids are in bed..." "What the Hell is going on?" he demanded. "I always loved chess, Tom. Thinking ahead, anticipating your opponent's moves... I think I've pissed off the Sabbat, and they are going to hit this place fast and hard tomorrow night. Their idea of revenge will be to kill every kid in here. Not MY kids. Now do as I say. I have a trap to set. Oh... and where are the extra fixtures and bulbs for the florescent lights?" Tom was sheet-white and he stumbled back when Jared pushed through his door and lay Karen Haas on Tom's bed. "And get this child some clothing, please." Tom grabbed for his pants. "You know, may you live in interesting times is a CURSE. I should have known hanging out with do-gooder bloodsuckers was gonna give me a coronary." He paused, noticing Karen's condition for the first time. "Oh, no." Ari shook her head. "Don't look at me... he did it. Now move, I want all the residents out of here first thing in the morning. Tomorrow is Sunday... take our bus... make them all go to church and cross themselves with holy water." Tom frowned. "Ari, crosses and holy water won't help..." "I know, but it can't hurt, either. If I could think of a less suspicious way to do it I'd have you take them to a Temple, a Druid and a Mosque just to cover all the bases." Tom shuffled out of his bedroom to go make plans. Tom was the only mortal in nearly three hundred years to know Ari's secret, and through her, Jared's and allowed the privilege of retaining the memory. He didn't fear them, or judge them. For he'd been working at the Tyche House for ten years before making the discovery. He knew good, no matter what face it wore, or what darkness it had buried within it. He also knew enough to keep his mouth shut, because if the Prince or any other Kindred found out he knew he'd be mind-wiped or killed with little thought. "So, what is your plan, oh devious one?" Jared sat on the bed and looked her in the eye. "My friend in the woods was not chosen for his brains. He let something slip. He said that Ace would make me fear my own shadow." She saw Jared shiver and nodded. "Yes, my thoughts exactly. If it means what we think, then he's going to be very dangerous, and I have a plan to stop him." ##### Ace slowly ripped up the Jack of spades as Queenie and Deuce watched. "Ace, she'd killed two already... she's gonna be pissed..." The shadows of the room twisted and reformed, came alive, their darkness surrounded Queenie and lifted her into the air. She let out a growl of rage at the treatment. "Shut up. You whine too much. I might need to get myself another Queen. Maybe that sweet little innocent from tonight, huh?" The shadows released her and she dropped to her hands and knees. They resettled in their proper, logical, places. "Tomorrow first thing we dig up the four stiffs we buried out back. Then we go get some of our own back. The bitch will be out lookin for us, and no guardin the hen house." Queenie snarled. "Dig em up? They're supposed to dig themselves up, or stay there. Ace, you are losin it." "No, we need the new recruits. They'll be hungry enough. It's been five days. The Beast will have hold. And if you question my judgement again you'll be their first chow time." He tossed the card confetti at her. Chapter 12. ----------------- Dana Scully woke up to the most delightful sensation. Warm lips pressing against the back of her neck, down her shoulder... and a wonderfully skilled hand kneading her breast. Tweaking the nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger, shooting delicious jolts of lightening right to her center. "Mmmm... Now I'm having a good dream." she moaned into her pillow. "The dream's just started." Mulder's sexy, smoky voice rolled over her pleasantly as the hand that teased her breast flowed downward, lower, lower, ahhh... right there. He knew just where and how to touch. His fingers pressed against her and she bucked into his hand. "Oh, God..." Her brain shifted back into reality. "Mulder, Hope is right next door." "She's asleep, I checked on her. I've already taken a run, got breakfast, showered and had enough time to watch you sleep. All curled up like a cat, your mouth just the slightest bit open, begging me to kiss you..." She purred just like the cat he'd named her. She reached behind and leaned back for a kiss. He obliged. His mouth toying with hers, his tongue taking little sips before plunging into deeper waters even as his fingers did, his thumb finding the very spot that made the woman in his arms lose all semblance of control. Her hand moved down, feeling behind her to caress his side. He was not kidding. His skin was still shower damp, and he was gloriously naked. Her seeking hand found him where he was pressed against her back. Hot and throbbing. "Have I ever mentioned that I appreciate the fact that you are an early riser?" "On occasion." He gently nibbled her ear and she felt the first little shock emanate from his fingertips. His other arm snaked under her, that hand began to pay attention to her other breast. His tongue traced the path of the tendons in her neck as his hands coaxed her into the storm. It built within her quickly. She had found, of late, that her body seemed to respond much faster than it had before. Her sex drive had increased. Not that their sex life had ever been lacking, but she had been getting turned on at the most inopportune times. Her breasts were more sensitive, and the slightest touch of his hand sent her into a tingling oblivion. In seemingly no time at all, the storm broke over her in waves and she rocked into his hand, then back against him. Her hand squeezed him in time to her movements. He groaned. She shifted, throwing her leg up and over his. Reveling in the contrast of the raspy hair on his leg against the smoothness of hers. He needed no more urging. He entered her slowly, from behind. His hands stayed steadily occupied as he rocked into her. Filling her. Completing her. She pushed back against him, not wanting to lose any of this. The bed creaked slightly as they moved. Soft sighs and muffled cries. She turned to speak but was silenced with his mouth. He was close, she could feel the tensing of his body, the frantic urgency of his thrusts. He tweaked her nipple hard as he pressed down on the knot of nerves made super sensitive by his earlier ministrations. She cried out and stiffened as the second wave took her. And he was there with her. She felt him spill into her. Fill her with his love. With the evidence of his desire for her. She sighed as he held her close. Not moving yet. Still within her, his hands moved to cradle the slight bulge of her stomach, to caress her there. They had done this. They had created this. The two of them, together. In an act just like the one they had just completed. They had created life. If they could do that, together, they could do anything. Scully smiled and leaned her head back against his shoulder. "I definitely like your wake up calls." "Glad to be of service, Mrs. Mulder. Just leave the tip on the nightstand next to the phone." As if on cue the offensive instrument began to ring. With a sigh of regret Mulder disengaged himself and reached for it. "Mulder." He listened intently to the person on the other end, nodding. "We'll be there. Thanks, Detective Sullenburger. Yeah, well I know you are most likely calling me from someplace the others can't see you. Hey, I'm an investigator, that's how I know. See you in a few." He hung up and brushed the back of his fingers up Scully's arm. "Shower and eat, they have another body." "I hope you want me to get dressed too, otherwise I'll be putting on quite a show." She rolled out of bed against the protest of limbs gone languid. "Hope?" "I'll get dressed and wake her, tell her where we're going. I want her to stay here, though, and to keep the door locked." Scully nodded. Wonderful morning wake-ups were pushed to the back of their minds as they once again focused on the case at hand. And the sick dread in both of their stomachs that the body found belonged to Karen Haas. ##### HECKMAN SAW MILL Mulder ignored the hot glares as he moved past the police and forensics teams working around the saw mill. He kept his hand on the small of Scully's back, somehow making the gesture protective as well as courtly. Bill Sullenburger dislodged himself from a knot of uniformed cops and approached the two. "Got a call last night on an apparent break in. Window was smashed and the side door was torn off its hinges. First officers on the scene thought it was just vandals till he saw this." he gestured them to follow and led them to the blood stain on the concrete. It was a large pool. Messy and dried. "We're estimating about five pints just spilled all over. They still thought vandals and pigs blood, but collected evidence anyway. The lab called in this morning. It's human. AB negative in fact, all seemingly from a single source. I don't know anyone who can survive losing five pints. So it looks like a homicide, sans body." He shuffled his feet slightly. "Except for one piece of evidence we can not officially name the victim." He held out an evidence bag. Inside was a single earring. A Marquisette heart with an amethyst teardrop dangling from it. Mulder recongnized it and closed his eyes, passing the bag to Scully. "Karen Haas was wearing earrings like that at the funeral yesterday." Mulder explained. Scully shuddered, remembering the medical history she'd gotten off the college and Hope last night. "Karen is AB negitive. I remember because it's a pretty rare type." Bill nodded. "We also have a ripped up dress. It's also covered in blood. They missed it first time around cause it was tossed up into the rafters. And that isn't all." Mulder looked at Sullenburger questioningly. "Back in the woods. We were combing for a body. We found one all right, just not the one we were looking to find." He led them down a deer path and into a clearing roped off with yellow police tape. They ducked under it. There were no other police here. The body, or what remained of it was well charred. Or, the bones were. Scully bend down and poked at the skull with a pencil. "This appears to be an old corpse, I'd say the person was dead for fifty or more years. But they recently dug him up, dismembered the skeleton and burnt off any remaining flesh." Mulder pointed to the pelvis section which was laying next to the skull. "And what does that tell you?" he asked. "The body was of a male. Ritual desecration, maybe?" She didn't move it, unwilling to tamper with the charred piece of wood protruding from it. "Looks to me, like that wood was there when the body was burnt, sometime around sunrise." Mulder pointed out. "Looks an awful lot like someone shoved a wooden stake up the corpses..." "Mulder! This is the corpse of a man who died years ago by the deterioration of the bones, not of someone killed last night." He shrugged and scanned the area. Wincing he tapped Sullenburger on the shoulder and pointed to a tree just outside of the police tape. On the west side of the tree, in the shade, something hung. Sullenburger cringed when he realized what the charred piece of flesh was. "What the hell?" "Someone was pissed off and nailed his balls to a tree," Mulder explained. He walked closer, with some reluctance, when he caught a sparkle out of the corner of his eye. Draped over the long wooden spike was a chain. One end held a earring, the other a nose ring. The kind of thing a hard rock fan might wear. "This case keeps getting weirder and weirder." Sullenburger muttered. "Why?" Mulder looked at him. "Because of all this..." "No, why did you call us instead of letting us find out about this too late to see for ourselves? Why have you been so helpful? I mean, usually the best we can hope from from local PD is indifference, the times we've actually been facing locals on friendly terms have been few and far between. And after last night, you are risking the censure of your own people to call us in." Sullenburger shrugged and dug his hands in his pockets. "My half-brother was a Fed. Wanted it so bad he could taste it. Got in. Made a hell of an agent. But he was always a sharp shooter, since we were kids. So he joined the SWAT team. We were all proud of him." "Were?" Scully looked up from her examination of the scattered bones. "Yeah. They say he committed suicide. He wasn't the suicidal type. He had a wife and baby on the way. He wouldn't have done it. And he was even afraid of fire." Scully stood her eyes wide. "Fire?" "Yeah." Bill lifted the police tape and moved away from the carnage. "On an assignment they say he doused himself with gasoline and set himself on fire." He spoke softly, over his shoulder, before walking away. Chapter 13. ----------------- The car was a safe heaven. Luckily the press hadn't latched on to the 'vandalism' at the saw mill as being related to the so called 'Butcher Slayings'. Scully closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat. "What are you going to tell Hope?" Mulder shook his head. What could he tell her? Could he face her and coldly, clinically tell her that they'd found five pints of what very well may be her friend's blood, her shredded, bloody clothing and her earring... but no body. No closure. Shit. No fucking certainty. Was Hope doomed to search the faces of dark haired, petite women of Karen's age all her life, looking for a friend, hoping against hope? Would she walk down the street and see a familiar walk or gesture and let her hopes soar... "That's how Karen used to walk. That's how she moves, how she gestures, it must be her..." only to feel her heart hit her toes when she faced a stranger? Mulder had been dancing that dance himself for twenty-five years. Doing double duty two years ago when Scully was simply... gone. No finality. No resolution. Just the eternal hope, the part that never was willing to give up, to let go. And while he never would give up or let go... that was not what he wanted for Hope. Five pints of blood. Karen was dead. She could not survive that much blood loss, or... whatever the hell had been done to her to make her lose so much blood. He liked Karen, even though he didn't know her that well. She was smart, and tough, and she protected Hope as if they were sisters. How many calls, after the disastrous leave taking that ended his first day in the presence of his daughter, had been politely, but oh so smoothly deflected by Karen? An unknown face with a smooth as silk voice telling him Hope was out, or in class, or sleeping or in the bath... never able to come to the phone. Karen, she of a thousand excuses. He hadn't appreciated it then, but he realized what the girl was doing, and that she was doing it for Hope. Being there for her as he was not. Supporting her when he'd callously ripped her heart out and stomped on it for good measure. "Mulder?" Scully's voice brought him back, as always. "I ... I don't know. We both know that Karen is most likely dead. The evidence for it is circumstantial though. Without a body... can Hope ever cope with this? Can she cope with it if there IS a body? Jesus, Scully, she's lost so much already. She had this life... then she learned I was her father, and everything she had was gone. Destroyed. Ripped away." "Don't do this, Mulder. Dr. Jamison was murdered before Hope knew you even existed. YOU saved her. She would still have been kidnapped by that lunatic if she didn't know about you. Only without you, she'd have been raped and tortured to death. Keep thinking of that. It's not a nice image is it? YOU got to her in time. You saved her. You tended to her when she was hurt. You are giving her something to hold on to. You are there for her now. If I hear one more 'I-am-the-bane-of-the universe' piece of crap out of your mouth I will most likely hit you." He nodded as he mentally refuted her assertions. He hadn't saved Hope, some unknown, unseen gunman had. And Hope would not have been in DC, in the path of the lunatic, if she hadn't been looking for HIM. Saying it out loud would just piss Scully off. She had enough to worry about. "So what now?" Scully asked. "Just suppose, for a moment, that the skeleton in the woods is not 50 or more years old. Just go with me on this for a moment, Scully. What if he was one of the people who kidnaped Karen? I'd say tearing him apart, shoving a wooden stake up his ass and nailing his genetailia to a tree is about as subtle as say... sticking a pimp's head to a street sign." "And the burning was due to what? The sunrise? You believe that this victim was a vampire? Ok. So if this person was a vampire, and he kidnapped and killed Karen, then what killed him?" "The same thing that killed Rico Torres, Scully. THAT'S why the killing made no sense when thrown in with the death of Karla Morris. I think we're looking at TWO different killers." Scully frowned, "You already knew that from the post mortem bruising on the alleyway slayings." "Ok we are looking at a whole BUNCH of different killers. And I think Arianna Llewellyn is one of them." Scully leaned her elbow against the car door and rested her temple in her hand. "Not again..." "One group of semi organized vampire killers, like the Trinity Cult. They make the wrong choice of victim, an ex-prostitute under the protection of another vampire. This pisses off the other vampire. I think we are looking at some sort of undead turf war." "The Crypts and the Bloods with fangs?" she smirked. He smiled teasingly. "I think we should pay a visit to Tyche House." "But, Mulder, if your theory, completely beyond the realms of reality as it is, were right, then Arianna wont be at the Tyche House. It's nine in the morning. She'll be sleeping in her coffin somewhere in a old tux and black velvet cape." "Yeah, but we can talk to the kids again, and find out if anyone has seen her during the day." He started the car and pulled away from the death ridden site of the saw mill. ##### TYCHE HOUSE They arrived just as the dull green bus pulled up to the front of the building. The door opened and the kids of all ages and nationalities poured out. Last out was Tom Sullivan. "Ok, go back in, get two changes of clothes and anything you think you might need overnight." He instructed the children as Mulder and Scully approached. "Mr. Sullivan, what's going on?" "Gang war." Kimmy Elko chimed in, flashing Mulder a smile. "This happens to be in the middle of the prospective battleground, so we're clearing out till it's over." "Really?" Mulder looked at Scully, who just raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Yeah." Sullivan gave the ten-year-old a little shove towards the door. "It's safer to know when to retreat and when to stand your ground." "But where is everyone going to go?" Scully gestured to the building. "You have forty six children here, over night accommodations are going to be an expensive proposition." "Emergency fund." Sullivan answered, quickly. "We stopped by to talk to Ms. Llewellyn. She said to contact her here." Mulder stood in Tom Sullivan's way. "Ari isn't here. She is taking care of the center's business. Now if you'll excuse me I have to make sure none of these kids pick a fight over whose hairbrush is whose." He dodged Mulder and headed up the stairs. Mulder and Scully followed. "We'd like to talk to the kids again." Tom shook his head. "No time. I'm moving them into hotel rooms by noon. Try back tomorrow or Tuesday." "You think the gang war will be over by then?" Mulder's face was carefully blank. "One way or the other, Agent Mulder. One way or the other." Tom slipped into the front doors and closed them in Mulder's face. He looked at Scully. She nodded. "Ok, something is going on, and it's happening tonight. Shouldn't we call the local office for back up?" "And tell them what? Two groups of vampires are going to duke it out, bring your Von Helsing Kit and eat lots of garlic?" He shook his head. "No, we stake this place out on our own." ##### Well below the Tyche House the remains of Cleveland's old subway system pass. Long ago, a single industrious individual closed off both ends, leaving a large chamber. Once, long ago, there was an entrance to the subway right next to the Tyche House. When the building expanded to make room for more classrooms and four more boarding rooms it was built over the old closed-off entrance. Arianna's office was put into that corner. If anyone took the time to measure the outside of the Tyche House, and then the inside they would find the inner space was four feet shorter then the outer. Part of her office wall was capable of moving out and sliding to the side. A door that revealed the old subway entrance. Below was her sanctuary. The chamber was large, and the concrete walls had been painted over with frescoes of Greek mythology. The artist had been skilled enough to adorn any gallery. He lay now, on a large, overstuffed couch that was part of an elegant living room suite. A large oriental rug marked the boundaries of the living room area. Beside it, a queen-sized canopy bed, hung with rich velvet of the deepest burgundy. Two woman lay on the bed. The three human forms did not move. No rising and falling of chests marked them as sleepers. No snores or sighes filled the dead quiet. Their stillness would unnerve any viewer not of their blood. Ari's eyes fluttered open. Two hours till sunset. She could feel it, even in the protected darkness. She flicked on the lights, illuminating the room and those in it. She sat up and looked at Karen, sleeping peacefully. Sleeping like the dead. She left the bed and knelt by the sofa. Jared's face was chiseled alabaster. His master had chosen him not only for his artistic talent and sharp mind, but for his beauty as well. In life he had half the women of Elizabeth's court chasing after him. He'd allowed most of them to catch him. She stroked cool fingers down his cheek, running them over the neatly clipped silkiness of his goatee. His hand caught her wrist and his pale blue eyes peered at her, into her. He kissed her fingertips. She bent to kiss him. His lips were cold, but soft and pliant beneath her own. She tasted the salt sweetness of his blood, knowing he had cut his tongue on one retracted fang. She drew back slightly and ran her hands down his arms as he lay, watching her. He was wearing black slacks, a black sports jacket and a dark gray turtle neck. She moved one hand to stroke over the ribbed cotton fabric at his throat. "Arming yourself against me?" He shook his head. "No, never." He sat up, abruptly, and shed the jacket and turtleneck. His body was as finely sculpted as any Greek statue. Ari kissed him again, then brushed her lips along his jaw. Her lips, soft and cool, pressed against his neck. He stiffened and bit back a cry as her sharp fangs dropped and slid delicately into his flesh. The warm sensuality he felt as she drew him into herself was beyond any mortal sex ever experienced. He flowed into her, deeper than any mortal man, becoming one with her in her veins, in her whole being. His eyes flashed gold as he bent his head slightly to lick at her throat, tilted to the side, raised to him, expectantly. He slid into her with his teeth. The rich, hot, sweet taste of her blood sent a thrill through his veins, It burned and invigorated. It was one continuous orgasm, never ending until they chose. The pleasure was so close to pain it crossed the line at times, making them shake and shudder as they each drew from the other. With the blood came memories, visions of each other's past. Nothing hidden, nothing spared. This, surely, was the truest expression of love, of trust, known on earth. Too soon, she drew away, pulling her fangs from him and leaving him feel empty where they had been. One flick of her tongue cleaned the spot on his throat, the wounds gone as soon as she withdrew. He released her and willed the Beast back. It still sparkled slightly, brief flashes of gold in the blueness of his eyes. Ari smiled. "We will need that tonight. We will need the bond. We will need each other." He nodded. They both turned as they heard a delicate cough from the direction of the bed. Karen Haas was awake, and sitting. "I suppose it's pointless to ask what happened. What I want to know is... How?" Jared smiled slightly. "Most of what you need to know is with you, memories transferred with my blood." He caressed Ari's face and then stood, crossing to his Childe. Karen grimaced, bending over slightly and clutching her stomach. When she looked at Jared again her eyes flashed gold. "It hurts." He bit into his wrist and offered it to her. "Drink. Accept. There is much to do tonight, so we will have to delay your first hut. I will have to sustain you for now." Karen looked at his wrist, both fascinated and repelled by the welling redness there. It pulled at her, drew her. She needed it, wanted it, as strongly as any need for heroin had ever been. She leaned forward and attached her mouth to his wrist, part of her screaming in terror, far in the back of her mind. That part was quickly quieted by the clawing, needy THING inside her. The memories came. What she was, how she was, who he was. He would never hurt her. Not like they had, not like any of the men before. She was his. He would protect her, as no one ever had before. As she drank, she wept. For the woman who had died in an old saw mill. For the pain of her life, for those she knew before. She remembered it. She knew and kept each terror, each agony, and cradled it to her heart. She broke away from Jared and looked at him. Her eyes once more a dark brown. There was a thirst in her still. But this beast was not the one she would struggle with for an eternity. This beast had a name. Revenge. Chapter 14. ------------------ UNKNOWN FOREST LOCATION 6:30PM The shovel hit the earth with a soft *chick-shhh*. The pile of dirt grew larger with every sound. Ace watched with a small wrinkle of concentration lining his forehead. No one held the shovel. It was surrounded by dark, swirling shadows. Queenie sat on a log looking bored and stroking Deuce's blonde hair, as a human might pet a dog. The shovel stopped when a hand shot through the packed ground. Filthy, nailed broken, thin and curled into a claw. The hand was followed by an arm, then a head. A young man, covered in mud. His eyes wide, red and quite mad slowly emerged. "Diamond." Ace hissed. The newly emerged man snarled and sprang at Ace. Ace laughed and moved aside at the last moment, allowing the creature he had just released to rush past him and strike a tree. The darkness surrounded the snarling, spitting thing, hefting it into the air as it thrashed and convulsed. "Welcome to the night." Ace grinned. "What you want is blood, the thing clawing at your guts and brain demands it. I'm going to give you some, so it that lovely creature over there, and the boy. Then you will be part of us." The man-thing dropped to the ground and Ace hauled hum up by the collar of it's filthy, shredded shirt. "I name you Diamond." The unmanned shovel began to work again, deep under the dirt they could hear the scraping and clawing of the other three struggling to free themselves, mad with the hunger. ##### TYCHE HOUSE 7:00PM Scully had fallen asleep. Mulder looked at her, enjoying her profile in silence. She was sleeping a lot more lately. He'd noticed her twice falling asleep at her desk in the office when they were working on paperwork and reports. She'd often curl up in a chair and be asleep right after they got home from work, leaving him to prepare dinner. When she did, though, she'd wake up looking embarrassed and sheepish. He considered asking her to go back to the hotel and keep a watch on Hope, then tossed the idea out the window. She'd see through that plan before he'd finished saying it. And she'd rip him a new asshole. She was SO determined to prove she could keep up, that she was just as capable an agent now as she was four months ago. She took this obsession of proving herself too far most of the time. He had to chuckle to himself. Like he should talk. Still, there was nothing wrong with admitting you couldn't take certain smells any more, or at getting tired quickly, or even at not being able to run as fast, not when you were four months pregnant. Her poor body was working double duty. She tried hard to keep herself neutral, but she got pissed off more often lately too, and out of no where she'd become much more playful then usual. He had to admit he preferred the playful. He sat up straight when he saw the lights of the Tyche House begin to come on. On three different floors, lights clicked on in windows at random. Someone hadn't cleared out. Three floors. Looked like three someones. He reached over and shook Scully's shoulder. "Hmm?" She blinked sleep out of her eyes and stretched. "Someone's home. Come on." They crossed the street and Mulder banged on the huge, wooden double doors. ##### When the emerged into Ari's office Karen looked a bit sluggish and confused, but her eyes started to dart to everything, as if seeing it all for the first time. Indeed, Ari thought, she was. Everything would seem sharper, more solid, the entire world in focus for the first time. And details, the change made you able to take in painstaking details at a glance. There was three small cracks in one panel of the Tiffany style lamp sitting on the desk, Ari had never examined it, just noticed it from the first look. If she looked she could see the dust particles floating in the air, without the aid of sunlight streaming through a window. She was aware of a spider seated in the center of it's web in the far left corner of her office. Awareness permeated the essence of the Kindred. In darkness they moved to the room Ari and Jared had left off working on before. "Karen grab that tool box and pass us anything we ask for." Ari ordered as she started to climb a ladder, in the dark. Once at the top she held her hand down. "Wire cutters." Karen saw the toolbox and found the tool requested as Jared climbed another ladder. "What are you doing?" She asked as she passed up the wire cutters. "Making a nasty surprise." Jared answered from atop his perch. They worked with quick fingers, moving the ladders, lifting aloft the frames, the work going quickly, much faster then humanly possible. That task complete Ari passes out a dozen little tape players to each of them. "Go to each room and put this on the bed, hitting play. It's got the sound of a human heartbeat and breathing recorded. It's continuous play. Just don't touch the volume it's set." Jared looked at the little silver boxes. "How long have you been planning this, chere'?" "Since they killed Karla." She answered quickly and headed out the door. "Oh and turn on some lights. Not all, just enough to make it look convincing from the outside." Jared frowned. "Ari, are you planning to..." he wiggled the fingers of one hand at her. She flashed a smile and fished a small metal flash from her pocket. It looked like one of those old perfume flask necklaces. "I took some blood from last night's asshole. Since we are facing a Sabbat then this will have the elements of the blood of the rest of his pack." Jared nodded and moved away, telling Karen to take the third floor. Jared moved from room to room, each press of a little 'play' button making the Tyche house sound more and more full of life to his ears. Sleeping life. The open bag of dirty laundry in each room made it smell occupied. He was on the last room when he heard the knock at the door. He sent a questioning thought to Ari. He received a negative impression. Not them. ##### Mulder wasn't surprised to see Arianna open the door, even though he had not seen her enter the building. "Agents Mulder and Scully, why am I not surprised?" She looked up at them. "We have a few more questions." Mulder stepped toward the door to have it half closed by the tiny woman inside. "It would be in your best interests to hold these questions until tomorrow." She met Mulder's eyes. He found himself, perversely, agreeing with her. At least until she stiffened and opened the door wider. "No time. Get in. Did anyone ever tell you your timing stinks?" Mulder waited for Scully to enter first while he shook his head to clear it, unsure why he'd thought they could wait till tomorrow night just moments ago. He was about to ask Ari what she'd been doing all day when a tall blonde man stepped into the reception area. He heard Scully gasp next to him and he looked at her questioningly. She didn't see him. Her attention was focused on the blond, and Mulder felt the irrational urge to smash in the guy's way too perfect face. "Angel." The word was a whispered sigh from Scully's lips, and she was, herself, way too pale. The blond's eyes widened a bit, then he smiled. "Ahhh... I had the feeling we had met before, that I should know you, Agent Scully. You are still the only person to ever make THAT assumption." She shook her head. "What the hell is going on here? I've never seen you before... it was just an old dream. It couldn't have been real. Some sort of hypnotic suggestion?" The blond nodded. "Yes, just not as you think." He looked at Ari who nodded and jerked her thumb to the door. He nodded back. "It was real, Dana. All too real. Unfortunately you will see that for yourself all too soon. This way, hurry." Mulder didn't move, placing a hand on Scully's shoulder he stopped her. "What's going on?" "I'll explain later, Mulder. But... I have the feeling they aren't going to try to harm us, if that's what you're worried about." Jared and Ari led them down a hallway and into a darkened doom. Ari switched on a table lamp and both agents jumped. Standing there, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, was Karen Haas. Alive and well. She looked at them in shock for a moment, then at Jared and Arianna. "Oh, shit," she muttered. ##### Outside shadows gathered. Ace cocked his head to the side. He could hear heartbeats from within the building. Many hear beats, two of the more distant ones were beating fast. He smiled. Behind him stood the expanded House of Cards. Queenie and Deuce, and with them the gaunt, less the human appearing forms of Club, Diamond, Spade and Heart. Three men and a woman. The last four were very hungry indeed. It was time to party down. Chapter 15. ------------------ Mulder looked from Karen to Ari and back. "What the hell is going on here?" "Karen?" Scully reached out to touch the girl, to prove to herself that this was real, somehow. She touched Karen's arm and drew back. "You're cold." "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about all of this. How's Hope? Is she ok?" Karen hugged herself, moving slightly away from them. "She's worried sick about you. Where have you been, Karen?" Mulder stepped toward her and she backed away a bit more. "To the dark side of the moon. To an awful place. A place no one should have to go, ever." Her eyes flickered to the blond man who nodded. "I... Karen Haas is dead. She died in a place that smelled of sawdust and blood. She died afraid and alone and in pain. I'm what's left. I'm what wouldn't let go. I'm... I'm not Karen anymore." The blond cocked his head to the side. "No, YOU are the angel. A dark, beautiful angel of mercy and justice." She smiled slightly. "Then that's who I am. Karen is gone. I'm Angel now." She didn't look at Mulder and Scully, avoiding their eyes. "We don't have much time. Stay in here." Arianna removed the top section of the two tool boxes they had earlier employed. Inside were four guns. Arianna handed one of the guns to Mulder and another to Scully. The guns were pistols, but their size and the circumference of the barrel was more like flare guns. Ari handed them each a box of bullets as well. "Incindiary bullets. You MUST aim for the head or the heart." She handed the other two guns to Karen and Jared. Jared looked at his with distaste and lay it back on the table. "Make time." Mulder made no move to load his gun. "The ones who killed Karla, Dougie and Karen are pissed at me since I rearranged the limbs of two of their pack. Now they are here, their plan is to kill every kid under my care. They don't know I've sent them away. Now you two and your rotten timing have you trapped in here with us. What's coming is called a Sabbat. They are beasts without much humanity left. They kill for pleasure. To them, you'd both make a tasty snack." Arianna pointed to the floor. "You have GOT to stay here. Because their leader is powerful. So much so that I don't know if I can beat him without this room. In here you stand the best chance... PLUS you bait the trap. We need to get him in here." "Bait?" Scully finally tore her gaze off of Jared. "More of those... red eyed things?" Mulder looked at her in shock. "Scully?" "I saw them before, Mulder, when I was a little girl. One tried to kill me. This man saved me." She gestured to Jared. She looked pasty and ill. "I...I thought it was... just a nightmare." "Welcome to my nightmare," Mulder muttered. "Life is a nightmare if we let it be." Jared held up his hand and cocked his head, listening. "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert...Near them, on the sand," Jared slowly began to cross the room. Karen, no, Angel was loading her gun with two bullets as she followed him, a pale wraith, seemingly his shadow. He continued as he walked. "Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculpture well those passions read." He slipped out the door, Karen in his wake. Arianna looked at Mulder and the slightly shell-shocked Scully. She allowed the Beast to show its face. To impress on them the seriousness and precariousness of their situation. Her eyes flashed gold, and she smiled, allowing her fangs to drop. "If anyone but the three of us come through that door, shoot. Head or heart. Do not hesitate, do not try to capture them. If you do, they will kill you. They are fast, and stronger than you could ever hope to be. If you hear me scream NOW, throw this switch." Her cold hand grasped Mulder's and placed it over a wall switch. "It means he is here, and this is all that will keep him from killing us all." "He?" Mulder swallowed and felt the full weight of the gun in his hand. "Ace. The leader. He has... abilities. He is my main concern." Mulder looked down at the gun and raised it slightly. "And what's to keep me from using this to kill you?" "Your sense of honor." Her eyes bore into his. "You know, despite what I am, that I am not the enemy here." "You're using us as bait," he spat. "I'm not your enemy, but I'm practical. I won't be able to fully hide that you two are here. Agent Scully alone has a distinctive sound and scent. Two heartbeats, one soft and very rapid, one strong and growing rapid as we speak. She smells of estrogen and her blood is very rich now, with nutrients for the baby. Ace knows about the two of you. He'll sense her." "Then get her out of here. I'll be your bait." Mulder stepped between Arianna and Scully, aware by Ari's words that she could hear and smell Scully. Maybe be tempted by what she described. "Mulder!" He ignored Scully's angry exclamation. "There IS no way out, but through them. Your best chance is in HERE. Please, if you love her, if you want to keep her safe, stay here." She was gone in an eye blink. "Mulder?" Scully looked at him. She was clearly shaken, but pulling herself quickly together. "I think... it might be a good idea to stay here." He reached for the cartridges on the table. They LOOKED like flares, with pointed heads. "Mulder, they are civilians, Karen's just a kid." He shook his head. "Not any more. And civilians is that last thing I'd call them." Scully reached for two cartridges as well, and quickly loaded her weapon, eyeing it warily. "I can take care of myself, Mulder. I don't need you playing Don Quixote. We are in this together. Besides, you need me." "Always." He managed to summon a soft smile for her. He did need her. Alive and well. He'd gladly sacrifice having her at his side if it assured the safety of her and the baby. But for now they had no choice. "I really think we better do what Arianna said. If nothing else this room is more easily defensible than running around out there. No windows, no way in but the one door." He tried to look confident and reassuring while mentally cursing himself for not somehow convincing Scully to go to the hotel and check on Hope. "Yeah. One door. No way OUT either. Like rats in a trap." She shivered slightly, old memories or an old dream coming to surface. But was it real? Was any of this real? Yes. It was tangible. She'd seen it with her own eyes. "So, what are we gonna do tomorrow night, Brain?" He grinned, it was forced and fierce. She rolled her eyes. "What was the guy with Karen saying? It sounded like poetry." "It was." Mulder leaned against a wall. "Ozymandias. Shelly. Tell that its sculptor well those passions read," he picked up where Jared had left off, "Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and dispair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay, Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, The lone and level sands stretch far away." Scully felt the shiver travel up her spine, leaving a wake of gooseflesh. The poem was NOT reassuring. "Yeah, well I can recite Green Eggs and Ham." She looked at him with both her gun and her brow cocked. ##### Arianna withdrew the metal flask of blood as she walked to her ambush site. She twisted off the top and placed it against her lips. She took a few drops into her mouth. Vile, cold, lifeless, rancid stuff. She forced herself not to gag. She needed the blood in her, in her veins, where she could command it as only her particular breed of vampire could. Jared's finger wiggle came to mind. Hers was the only clan capable of this. The others called it Blood Magic. It was just another use of the power of will and mind. She replaced the tiny lid and let the necklace flask drop once again to her breast. She used her power, now, to cloud the perceptions of those who were coming. Those who shared the blood bond with the creature she'd dispatched last night. They would not hear the whir of the little tape recorders, only the recordings themselves. She would not only smell unwashed laundry, but the scent of those who had worn the clothing. She could not create a complete illusion, but she could enhance what already was there. She could feel Jared in the building, further from the doors. Between Ari and the rec room the FBI agents had hopefully had the brains to stay in. She could not feel Karen. When they came it was not with an explosion of violence, but with the whisper of stealth. Ari held the vial in her hands, using it to sense them, to know where they were. There were seven now. Five of them were Childer newly born. Five male, two female. Two were climbing the very fire escape Karla had used the night of her death. The irony there was so thick she could chew it and spit out nails. Two were in back, at the supply entrance/back door. And three had opened a window in Tom's office and were slipping in as she tracked them. She hear a roar from the second floor. Rage and hunger mixed with madness. It looks like someone tried to take a bite out of a tape recorder. She was smiling as she ran down the hall to Tom's office. ##### They both jumped at the muffled scream. Not one of pain, but of anger. They had been straining to hear something other than their own breathing. Breathing which had suddenly seemed impossibly loud in the murkiness of the room. They looked up. It had come from the floor above them. Mulder looked over at Scully. She was staring at what hung above them, noticing it for the first time. She looked at him, her eyes questioning. The 'hey, you got all the answers what the hell is this' look in her eyes made him want to kick himself. He had no idea. He looked up. No friggin clue. His hand tightened on the gun he'd been given and his eyes settled once again on the door. He felt like he was part of O. Henry's 'The Lady and the Tiger'. Only there was one door, instead of two. And HE was eventually going to learn what was behind this one. ##### Ace could feel the rage of Club. The Childe's hunger was getting the better of him. He'd been promised slaughter, blood, and it had not been delivered. Ace smiled at Heart as she stood beside him. She reminded him of the little whore he'd taken last night. Heart hadn't been a whore though, she'd been a dealer. Under the dirt and filth she was the same size and general build though. And just before he'd fed off the whore, she too had held madness in her eyes. He knew what Club's bellow meant. The tide had turned. Their little ambush was actually a trap. Ok, that was cool. It could prove to be just as much fun. He headed for the door and had taken hold of the knob just in time to have it ripped from his fingers. "Surprise!" She grabbed his wrist and had tossed him down the hallway before he could react. Chapter 16 ------------------ The female who had been with Ace was a newborn and mad with need. Perhaps that helped push her into the folly of actually rushing Arianna, hands twisted into claws as she snarled her rage. Then again, and more likely, Ace willed her to do it. He'd use his pack as cannon fodder. It was the way of egocentric little shits like him. Ari dodged and balancing on one leg performed a spinning kick, her heel connecting with the girl's spine. There was a satisfying *crunch* as she fell. Ari left her where she was, her arms trying to pull herself up, the bottom half of her body no longer following the impulses her brain was putting out. She turned to again face Ace, but he was no longer there. "Coward!" Her scream echoed off the walls of the hallway. "Come out, come out, where ever you are." Her words were brave, but inside she shivered. She wanted to draw his attention to herself, because she had the best chance of surviving it. ##### The woman who was once Karen Haas found herself glorying in her new stealth. Never had she moved this smoothly, this fluidly, this silently. Her exhilaration was cut short when she heard a room being noisily trashed. Her heart should be pounding with fear. After all, even in her bravest moments she'd been smart enough to be scared. But her heart was NOT pounding in her ears, and an icy dread wound through her guts as she realized why. Her heart would never beat again. She was dead. She was one of the walking dead. Every vampire movie or book she'd seen raced through her mind. Did she really want to live forever? She stepped to the side of the doorway emitting the noise and pressed her back against the wall. Maybe not. But she wasn't ready to meet her final reward yet. She had a life to life, at least one lifetime. Things to do. Places to go. "People to kill," she whispered to herself. She slid the safety off her gun and spun around the door frame. Aimed down the barrel, found the heart on a ragged, dirty looking bum. An old guy. She didn't hesitate to fire. The shot exploded loudly. His chest exploded louder. Blood sprayed the room as flames erupted from the gaping hole that had been his torso, engulfing the creature as it dropped. Then she was kissing the floor as two hundred pounds of enraged creature knocked her to the ground. He'd once been a big black man, the roundness of his face and slant of his eyes betrayed downs syndrome. The innocent wonder that should have been there was replaced by a snarling demon. He punched her in the gut and it hurt. His fetid breath washed over her as his mouth opened wide. She was trapped as he struck for her throat. Not again! ##### "That was a gunshot." Scully looked up again. It was above them. "Karen. She took the other gun. Arianna took one, but I think she stayed on this floor. The guy didn't take any. I hope Karen's a good shot." Mulder felt his nerves coiling tight. He wanted to get out. He wanted to DO something. To help. Waiting was never his strong point. "I hope she doesn't have a habit of dropping her gun." Mulder looked at Scully, startled. She was smiling at him. She was still a bit pale, but recovering nicely considering her reality had taken a big U turn. ##### Jared had retrieved his weapons of choice from Ari's lair. He was a Hunter, a Justicer for his Prince. The closest thing the Kindred had to law enforcement. He was good at it. But he had a traditional bent. He saw the two enter a room to the left, checking for people, no doubt confused that there weren't any. He hefted his weapon as a modern man might heft a rifle. Brought it up to his shoulder and took aim. Soon enough they emerged. The woman first. He gently squeezed the trigger and a **sssssnap** filled the air with the whisper of death. She screamed as the force of the crossbow bolt flung her backward, as the force of the wooden projectile pinned her to the wall. A broken butterfly in a dark collection. The boy snarled at him but was smart enough to flee. Jared withdrew his second weapon. The kiss of steel on steel sealed her doom. Blood trickled from her mouth. Her eyes blazed with the fury of the beast. She spit defiance at him. In four hundred years his blade had never lost its edge. It didn't disappoint him now. A hiss of it slicing the air, then the dull thud of her head striking the chipped linoleum.. He looked at her pinned remains and shrugged, feeling a smile tug his lips and the thrill of the hunt sang in his veins. "Um... there can be only one?" He looked down the darkened hallway the boy had fled. ##### Ace saw Deuce running for him. "Back there, he killed Queenie." The boys words were garbled around his protruding fangs. "Really, then leave him to me." Ace shoved the little annoyance aside and strode into the shadows. The hunter had ceased to stalk. Ace could feel his stillness. He must have realized he was no longer following a half sized Childe. He smiled to himself and let his mind touch the shadows. Through the shadows he saw. There. Just inside the room to his right, poised to strike. A sword, how archaic. His will touched the shadows and commanded them. They swirled and grew dense. Took substance at his command. They tightened around the fool inside the doorway, lifting him as he struggled ineffectively against nothing. How does one fight a shadow? Ace watched, amused as the shadows pulled the man out. Tall, blond, he thrashed about uselessly, slicing his sword at nothing. His eyes blazed gold. "I believe you were waiting for me." Ace put as much boredom as he could into his voice. The shadows tightened around the man. "I wanted to ask you to dance." The blond man sneered. "You? You are the best the Prince could offer to try and stop me? You and that Fairy Godmother? It's laughable." The blond had ceased struggling, sensing the futility of the situation. "Yeah, well, we're just the janitors. You're no more a threat than a spot of shit on the floor. Just don't want people slippin' in it is all." "Gallows bravado? Interesting. Too late you learn just what a threat I can be." Ace sent a thought to his dark minions. Jared's head swung around with a *snap*. Ace let him crumple to the floor. Neck broken. ##### Arianna turned the corner to face the one she dreaded facing more then Ace. Dougie. He sensed her and spun. Her heart cried out at the injustice, yet her feet never faltered. She tackled him and spun him round, so his back was to her. He struggled in her grip. "I'm sorry, Dougie. I'm so, damned, sorry." The gun she carried pressed into his spine, just behind his heart. He ceased to struggle. "I know you are, Ari. Thank you." She pulled the trigger. His chest exploded outward. She stepped back as his body burst into flame. She had no time to grieve as the bond she shared with Jared suddenly filled with panic. Then pain. Then the absence of pain. "No!" She ran down the hall to him. ##### Not yet. Ace sensed her coming. Felt her as she ran through each shadow. No. He was having too much fun. He cocked his head to the side and heard them. Three heartbeats, not far away. Mortals. He followed the sound. He faced a plain wooden door. The mortals were inside. The double beat from one location identified them as Jako's Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf. They'd be watching the door. His mind followed the shadows, under the door. Yes, both were facing it, mortal weapons in hand. Just waiting for him to come inside. He moved away from the door. Mapping the layout of the building in his head he circled into another office. Its side wall was the back wall of the mortal's hiding place. ##### Mulder heard a rhythmic ticking and looked around for its source. He winced inwardly when he realized it was his watch. He was about to tell Scully of his own stupidity when the wall behind them erupted in an explosion of plaster and wood. The center of the explosion was a man. He'd burst through based on speed and brute strength. He swung around just in time to see Scully tossed aside like a rag doll even as she turned to face the threat. His heart leapt to his throat as she thudded against the wall. Mulder aimed for the heart and fired. The man moved impossibly fast, and seemed to dodge. But he howled as a ragged hole opened in his shoulder and his clothing began to burn. He dropped and rolled as Mulder tracked him. The move extinguishing the flames. Scully moaned and began to sit up. Her left arm was held close to her body, and a thin sheen of sweat covered her face. The door burst open and Mulder moved his aim to face the new threat only to sight Arianna. "Now... the switch!" she cried. Mulder backed against the wall and hit the wall switch. The room was suddenly flooded with bright light. The entire ceiling was covered with jury rigged florescent lights. As they came on all the shadows in the room disappeared. Chapter 17. ----------------- Everyone was blinded for a few precious seconds. Ari, however, was prepared. She took aim, only to face Ace, now holding Agent Scully between them. Agent Scully looked half conscious and pasty. Her left arm was curled tight against her body while her other hand clawed weakly at Ace's leather clad arm. "Scully!" Mulder's cry was more in the line of a moan of pain. He was fine. She was not. She was also blocking HIS shot. "Put the guns down or I snap her neck right now. You know I'm not bluffing." Ace tightened his arm and Scully made a choking sound. Ari threw her gun to the floor. "You want to play, Ace. Just you and me. Nothing but our own powers. No weapons." "Big Bad Wolf?" Ace looked at Mulder. Mulder tore his gaze away from his wife with an almost audible ripping sound to look at Ari. She nodded. "Do it. Or she's dead." Mulder held out one hand, whether to show it was empty, or in supplication not even he knew. He slowly lowered the gun to the floor. His training screaming at him not to do it. His hesitation gained him another choked cough from Scully as Ace added pressure. He let the gun go and stood again. "Kick them to me, both of you. I'll accept your little, amusing diversion Fairy Godmother, when I'm sure this asshole won't shoot me in the back." Both guns slid across the floor. Ace tossed Scully right at Mulder and launched himself at Ari. Mulder caught her, the impact knocking them both off their feet. Scully let out a sharp, unintentional cry. He gained a kneeling position and lightly touched Scully's throat. "I'm... shit... no I'm not..." she bit her lip. "My throat is ok. But I think my arm's broken." They both examined her left arm, noting the extra elbow she'd developed. She thought Mulder couldn't get any paler. "I'll live. But I need to get to a hospital. Mulder looked up to see a battle raging between them and the door. It looked like a Bruce Lee movie run at double time. Blows and blocks, kicks and swings, some too fast to follow. Neither opponent looked human anymore. Each tiny muscle of their faces was accentuated, exaggerated. Their eyes blazed impossible colors, and they snarled and hissed, snapping at each other with long, daggered canines. Ace was taller, heavier, should have been the clear winner. But Arianna was fast. She did a spinning kick, connecting solidly with Ace's leg, throwing him off balance. He went down to one knee but managed to block the chop of her hand aimed at his neck as a follow through. Catching her arm he twisted it around, surely breaking it as she raked her nails down his face. Five bloody gouges ripped down the monstrous facsimile of a human face. He brought the heel of his hand up to connect with her sternum. Her ribs had to have cracked or broken with the blow. She stumbled back, her arm still in his grasp before moving in to slam her forehead against his nose. Smashing it in a burst of blood. He let go and they moved back, circling each other. Arianna took hold of her injured arm and with a tug set the bone again, without a flinch. There was little human about her now. Mulder wondered how he had ever thought she was. Ace charged, she dodged and got an elbow into his back. He spun and caught hr other arm. Instead of breaking it, though, he grinned. He hoisted her above him even as she landed a solid kick to his head. With a shout he threw her. Up. Overhead. Into the lights. Mulder threw up his arm and bent over Scully to shield her as shattered bulbs and sparks fell. Tiny glass fragments showered them. The lights flickered. When he dared to look again four of the overhead fixtures were out, one was dangling, one end scraping the floor. Arianna was laying on the floor. Ace approached her and kicked her in the side. She grasped his ankle. He grabbed her hair and hauled her to her feet. He ran to the wall and slammed Arianna's head into the plaster. Once. Twice, Three times. The spot was red with her blood. The force of the blows knocked a hole in the wall at last. Mulder scrambled away from Scully and made a dive for the guns he and Ari had put down. SOMETHING grabbed them and pulled them from his reach. The light in the room had dimmed. What had been the shadow from the ping pong table had moved, swirled, surrounded the guns and pulled them away. Oh SHIT! He barely registered this before a band of iron closed around his throat and he was being hauled upward, his feet leaving the ground. Nothing to his back. He kicked out and as he realized it was a hand around his throat he grabbed Ace's wrist, his own muscles straining to make the monster release him. Pain. Blood thundered in his ears. Spots swam before his eyes. He couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. He was being choked to death. "Not yet." The creature's voice was a purr. "First I'm going to fuck Little Red right in front of you. Then I'm going to rip the parasite from her womb. After I eat it, only then will I drain her completely. And then... Then you die." Mulder felt rage well up. He clawed at the arm holding him, then reached for Ace's face, trying to take out his eyes. "I don't think so, motherfucker." Ace spun to face the voice. Karen Haas stood in the doorway. Her gun pointed at his head. "You! You're dead!" "Wrong. You are!" She fired. Ace's head exploded. Showering Mulder with a gruesome spray. Then he erupted into flame. His grip on Mulder released and they both fell to the floor. Mulder frantically backed away from the burning thing, the flames licking at his heels, catching his trench coat. His throat was too tight; he couldn't cry out, only frantically try to smother the flames. Karen was there, helping him. Then giving him a hand up. "He killed me. It's only fair I got to kill him back," she muttered under her breath. The room spun. Mulder still saw spots. Dizziness, nausea... "Omigod, your throat." She reached for him as he slid to the floor once more. He was dimly aware of three figures entering the door. All wore suits, impeccably dressed. The central figure was a man. He was incredibly beautiful. Dark and savage in that beauty. The man gestured to the fallen form of Arianna and the man to his left bent over her. "She lives, highness," the man announced. "Then get her out and let her feed. If she awakens in here she'll kill her charges before realizing it." The man's voice was silk over gravel. The man who had checked her lifted Ari up and carried her from the room. The tall imposing man then looked at Karen. Karen felt the overwhelming need to fall to one knee and bow before this man. The memories Jared had given her supplied the information she needed. This was the Prince. The man Jared held loyalty to. Karen, however, refused the impulse. He smiled. "You are a defiant little one, aren't you? I can see why Jared chose you." "Will he be ok?" Karen cocked her head to the side. She had felt Jared's pain, then the nothingness of unconsciousness from him. "Yes. Arianna set his neck and gave him some of her blood. His spine had healed by the time we arrived. He too, has left to feed. These mortals would be far too tempting to an injured Kindred. Karen looked down at Mulder and Scully. Of the two only Mulder seemed at all conscious, and that was doubtful. "They need help. An ambulance." The Prince inclined his head. "We are cleaning up the mess you have left behind. Removing the bodies to have them left to the sun. You alone, my dear, have started two fires in this building. We put them out." The Prince moved to look down at Mulder. Mulder WAS awake. He looked up at the man, struggling for each breath. "What a pity. Do you know, Agent Mulder, you represent the single greatest threat to the Masquerade in over a century? I'm afraid you know too much now. Much too much." The Prince bent over him. Mulder wasn't sure if it was the man over him or the last of the oxygen leaving his brain, but darkness swam up to meet him, then drag him down into a warm embrace. His last thought was of Scully. Chapter 18. ------------------ The first thing he became aware of was the pain. It was a raging fire in his throat. Like someone had scoured it with steel wool until nothing but a mass of ragged, abused nerve endings remained. Raw was too tame a word for the pain. And that was only on the inside, where each inhalation burned like acid. Surrounding that pain was another, throbbing heated soreness. He swallowed involuntarily and wanted to scream, but it would hurt too much. Then the scent. The to smell it he had to inhale again, and he wondered how long it would take before he passed out completely again? Into the merciful, painless blackness. But he was rousing now, and that escape was denied him. His nostrils detected the scent of disinfectant, iodine, and an undertone of urine. Ah. Hospital. Next he was aware of someone holding his hand. Fingers entwined with his. Soft, warm, palms pressed together. Scully? He opened his eyes at the thought of her name. The head bent next to him was not Scully's, even though the face was turned away. The person was sitting in a chair, leaning over the gap between the hair and the bed, and sleeping with her head on the mattress. Her hair was a mass of long waves, rich browns of every hue streaked with golden highlights and red undertones. Magnificent hair. Much more interesting then either of her parent's. Hope. Hope Jamison. Ok. He was in a hospital, again. But how had he gotten here? What had happened? And most important of all... where was Scully? Hope shifted, turning her head in his direction. The weave of the hospital blanket was pressed into her face. Her eyes were open and they looked into his. He tried to summon a smile, but was pretty sure it came out a grimace. "Whatever you do don't try to talk." Hope cautioned him as she sat up, stretching a kink out of her back, her voice was soft and whispering. "You have a severely bruised throat and minor crushing damage to your trachea. They had to intubate you when they found you, which I'm sure didn't help the way your throat must feel, but it did keep you breathing. You probably cant talk anyway as your neck has swollen with the bruising and your vocal cords may be limited now. Swollen? Dad, right now you have a better neck girth then Arnie Schwartzenegger." Hope brought a pad and pencil from the bedside tray table and handed it to him. "Lots of people want to know what the hell happened. I'm one of them." She crossed her arms. He wrote one word on the pad. 'Scully?' Hope grinned. "I told them you'd injure yourself further by going on a foolish rampage to find her if they didn't put you in the same room. Then as your next of kin we'd have to sue them for any injury you incurred on such a rampage because they wouldn't listen to my simple request of a common room." She stood and walked to the white curtain to his right. It slid aside softly. He gasped and then choked from the pain of the foolish reflex on his throat. Scully appeared to be asleep in the next bed. Her arm was encased in a cast and held against her chest with a sling. There was a wide belt around her slightly distended stomach with wires running from it to a beeping machine at her side. "Don't worry." Hope moved closer to him. "She's got a broken arm, double fracture of the radius and ulna, but it was a clean break. There are some mild signs of strangulation, but nothing compared to you. The belt thingy is a fetal heart monitor. It's just a precautionary thing. The doctors ran every test they could and the baby seems to be doing fine." As if aware she was being talked about, Scully opened her eyes and turned her head. "You look like shit." Her voice didn't sound any different. He wrote on the pad and passed it to Hope, who read it before passing it to Scully. 'What happened?' Scully looked at him oddly, as if frightened for a moment, quickly concealed. "Mulder, the last thing I remember was sitting with you in the car staking out the Tyche House. I think... I think I fell asleep. I woke up here about three hours ago. I told Sullenburger what I remembered and he's pissed off." Hope sprang in. "An anonymous call for the police and ambulance was made. You were found in the recreation room of Tyche House. There were signs of a struggle all over the place, and signs of a fire in one of the dorm rooms and the hall outside it, but someone had put it out and controlled it." She shivered and held herself. Hope's eyes clouded with pain, and when next she spoke, her voice was tight, strained. "They found Karen's body. On the floor of Tom Sullivan's office. Her back had been broken, and she was burnt almost beyond recognition. Detective Sullenburger at first wouldn't tell me all of it, but he said they couldn't identify her by dental records or finger prints. They... they had shot her in the head with some sort of high caliber weapon. There... wasn't much... left to identify." Hope choked back a sob and the tears spilled over. "Only the remains of the tattoo she'd had on her ankle. A little rose." Mulder was shocked. He could remember nothing past watching the Tyche House. Not how he and Scully had been found hurt and abandoned in the Tyche House, Not about finding Karen's Body, none of it. It was almost like Ellen's Air Force Base all over again. But worse. Scully had been hurt. Her arm broken, choked, her life and that of their baby placed in some nameless danger because he'd had them on a stake out. It was his fault. What had happened that they could not remember? Why couldn't they remember? The questions had to be put to the back of his mind. Hope was shaking now, and Mulder held out his arms. She hesitated for a few seconds, then moved to curl up into the bed next to him. Her tears quickly soaked through the thin hospital gown he was wearing. He felt helpless with her once again. He couldn't even offer words of comfort. Only hold her as she mourned. Scully sat in the other bed, watching them. Her eyes soft. ##### DANA SCULLY'S CASE REPORT I cannot agree with Agent Mulder's theory on the killer(s) being of vampiric nature, unless it is the nature of their own minds. His suspicions of Arianna Llewellyn, however, must be put to rest. The night of our mutual memory loss Arianna was reported to have been at a fund raising party with several of the cities politicians also in attendence. It was given by one of the Mayor of Cleveland's political supporters, Lorcan Germain. She was seen eating and mingling before the sun went down and well into the morning by thirty witnesses, giving her an air tight alibi. In the past week it appears that the death of Karen Haas was the last. As killers of this nature do not suddenly stop killing, we must assume, for now, that those responsible are either deceased themselves or in custody on unrelated charges. Detective Sullenburger will remain on the lookout for any sign of the similar murders and promises to alert us if he comes across any. The damage to the Tyche house has left even more questions. Damage to lighting fixtures, odd holes in the walls, burnt rooms and the body of Karen Haas. These things are being interpreted as terroristic threats connected to the drug syndicate and prostitution rings of Cleveland. To attempt to shut down the shelter and scare off its workers and residents. If this is the case, they have failed. The Tyche House has been cleaned up and donations from several figures at the fund raising dinner has renovations being done. Arianna Llewellyn vows there will be a Tyche House or an institution like it as long as she lives. Agent Mulder and myself are recovering well. We still have no memory of how we came about our injuries, nor can we give insight as to who called the police and ambulance. This will be my last field report. Assistant Director Skinner has called to inform me I will be temporarily reassigned to Quantico until my maternity leave. He expressed concern over my injuries, and considers field assignments too dangerous for my condition. Agent Mulder concurred despite my protests. Special Agent Dana Scully-Mulder ##### HYLAND HALL UNIVERSITY OF OHIO ONE WEEK LATER Hope looked around the empty dorm room. Empty. Like her life. It had once been filled with laughter and girlish giggles. Hours of all night studies and more coffee then was safe for human consumption. She had thought to be gone a week ago. She had thought to leave behind a friend who would write and call. She was wrong. Karen's funeral was much as Karla's had been. She had attended, and had not cried. Her crying had been done in a hospital room in the arms of her feather. Her grief was not for public consumption. Packed among the things she'd take with her to Georgetown were some of Karen's things. Her collection of Shakespeare, her books of poetry, the kewpie doll she'd won at the shooting games at a fund raiser, and a collection of music they had danced to. Hope also kept a album of pictures. Mostly silly, goof off poses from parties and gatherings. A catalog of a two year sisterhood. Hope sat on the bare mattress that had been Karen's bed. She'd dreamed of her last night. The last night she would sleep in this room. She had dreamed she had woken up to find Karen sitting on the edge of her bed. Smiling down at her and stroking her hair. She'd dreamed she spoke. Hope wasn't sure it WAS a dream. After all, she had an inkling that Connie McKenzie, her natural mother, tended to show up when Hope needed her. Even if she never SAW her, and she had been dead for seven years... In her dream Karen had looked sad, even lonely. "Hope, saying goodbye is harder then I thought. I wanted you to know... I never had a family. Not a real one. When you showed up at school, fresh-faced and fifteen, a lost little girl in the great big world... I took you in as my own. You became my little sister. It has been the best two years of my life. What happiness I've known has been found here. In this college. In this room. With you. I love you, Hope. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable. Maybe, if you had been the slightest bit inclined..." the dream Karen shrugged. "I came into this world in pain, ripped from the comforting darkness, and was viciously slapped for the effort, to make me cry, before I was handed over to an uncaring mother. My stepfather took from me what no father had the right to. He hit me, and he raped me. My mother named me a whore. I ran away and took the name my mother gave me. It was the only definition of self they had left me. I was rescued not by a knight in shining armor but by a tiny woman with a soft smile. She taught me self respect and determination. But she only half rescued me. You finished the job. You taught me love." The dream Karen smiled slightly. "Love and laughter and that there is innocence in the world, and that it should be protected. I left this world in pain, viciously slapped, but I did not cry. I went into the darkness again, willingly. The family I found there... was and is far from uncaring." "Don't forget me, Hope. But don't let losing me drag you down. Your father and his wife are good people. Trust them. Give them a chance. Let them be there for you. It is NOT a betrayal of the people who raised you. I have only one request to make of you. Live. Live for me. Enjoy life. Become all you can be. You will make a wonderful doctor some day." In her dream Karen had pressed something into her hand. "I've always considered this MY song. Play it, and remember me." Karen had awoke in the morning with a small silver tape player in her hand. She hit play. It was Alanis Morrisette's 'All I really Want'. She'd cried again, alone. The knock at the door brought her out of her memory of a dream. She turned to see Mulder looking at her, his face drawn, pensive. His throat still had a greenish blue bruise in the shape of a hand, but the swelling was gone. His voice sounded funny though. "You ready?" It was gravely, and soft. He'd make a full recovery though. From what... he still couldn't remember. Neither could Scully. "I suppose so. Yeah, I'm ready. For anything." She picked up her last suitcase and wasn't surprised when Mulder took it for her. "Let's go. Scully's in the car." Hope took one last, long look back, then closed the door on that part of her life, forever. End of D.D. IV ================================================== Dogged Determination V: WATCHED OVER Chapter 1. ----------------- Doggone it. ##### The woods were enchanted. At least to the three children racing through the snow covered magic. Not far away a series of ski chalets spotted the landscape. They had been rented by the parents of the elder two children. Thirteen year old James Hyatt scooped up a fistful of snow and mashed it into a fairly loose snowball. Just in time for his ten year old sister, Della, and their friend nine year old Jonathan Davies to catch up to him. He whirled and threw. Both Della and Jonathan dodged the projectile. Daisy was NOT so lucky. She got a face full of snow and she froze in her tracks. The three children erupted into giggles as Daisy shook the snow loose and whuffed, before launching herself at James, hitting him and knocking him right into a snow bank. "Way to go, DAISY." Della cheered. Daisy looked over her shoulder and smiled. Her brown eyes, so expressive, telling them how much she'd enjoyed that. James erupted from the snow bank and dumped snow over Daisy's back. She shivered and shook, sending it flying everywhere, including back at James. Then she was off at a loping run, playing catch-me-if-you-can. Her red-gold fur making her an easy target against the snow and dark brown trees. "SNOW WAR!" Della cried. "Everyone for themselves!" She ran away from Jonathan, who, though younger than the other two, was old enough to know no quarter would be given. He moved off to the side to begin piling up a makeshift snow wall to use as cover. Della didn't feel the need for a snow wall, but opted to make snowballs as fast as she could. Somewhere behind her Daisy was barking. Della stopped making snowballs. Something was not quite right about Daisy's bark. It was... angry and frantic. "Daisy?" Della abandoned her cache and started heading for the sound of her guardian. She was soon passing the tree line and touching on the road. There was a dull blue van parked on the side of the road. Daisy was scraping her front paws along the sliding door, trying to work the handle as she barked and growled. "Daisy? What's wrong?" Della asked. The Dog spun, canine eyes gone wide. At the same time someone stepped out of the driver's side door. A big someone, dressed in a dark, bulky coat, and a ski mask. He started walking toward Della. Daisy charged him and sunk her teeth into the man's leg. He went down with a cry and tried to fight the dog off. Then another man stepped out of the van. He had a gun. Della's parents had taught her about guns. She knew a lot of things most ten year olds didn't know. And she knew how to run. Daisy had stopped her attack and was hot on Della's heels, urging the girl to run faster. Della made it past the trees before a rough hand caught her coat and yanked her off her feet. She screamed. Daisy turned mid-stride and rushed the attacker, a blur of snarling canine fury. The man raised his gun. The gunshot mostly covered Della's screams. ##### He'd managed to ignore Daisy's far off barking. After all Gadget, his own friend and companion, liked to bark just for the joy of barking. He was used to it. However, Jonathan stood up at the first scream. James must have gotten Della good. He began stockpiling his own snowballs when he heard the crack, and on top of it, another scream. He was torn. Should he run back to the cabins and get his mum, or see what was wrong. If it was a really big emergency it would take more time to go back and get the adults and the Canine Cavalry, as they'd been named. Mind made up, Jonathan ran in the direction of the screams, which had not stopped. "Della? James?" He called before him. "Daisy?" He stopped just before the road, his eyes wide with horror. The snow before him was stained red. An awful red. A wrong red. And in the middle of that red, Daisy lay, unmoving. Jonathan's stomach roiled in revulsion. Daisy! Who would do such a thing? Dead. She was dead. She was dead and Della had been screaming andhewantedhismumrightnow... He heard the roar of an engine and he tore his eyes from the horrific scene before him to look out to the road, mostly obscured by trees. A van. A gray or blue van sped away much too fast. Stunned, sick and very frightened, Jonathan Davies stumbled back the way he had come. Occasionally calling for his friends, his voice breaking on their names. Neither of the Hyatt children answered. ##### The main chalet was filled with laughter. The smell of wood smoke and cooking permeated the air. On the deck, with its grand view of the mountains, some men and women were gathered, bundled in coats and laughing with and at the tall man who was daring to grill steaks in the cold outdoors. The grill was HUGE. At their feet dogs played. Most of the dogs were golden retrievers. A few mixed breeds also romped. Occasionally one would approach the grill and look at it longingly. The chef was also grilling about four packs of hot dogs. "Travis, didn't anyone tell you cook outs were a summer thing?" One woman pushed her glasses up on her face with a gloved hand. Flurries had begun to fall and they stuck in her dark hair. "You know, Sheryl, you don't have to eat it." The man at the grill looked at her with laughing eyes. He was tall and lanky under his ski jacket, and his brown hair was only lightly flecked with gray. His was a strong face, one that showed lines of stress intermixed with fresher laugh lines. Sam "Travis" Hyatt had known both stress and laughter in his forty nine years. In the last thirteen, however, it had been mostly laughter. It was the laughter that went with the name Sam Hyatt. Once, a long time ago, he'd had another name. Travis Cornell. The retriever currently eyeing the grill had been indirectly responsible for all the joys in his life. The Dog was of pure retriever stock, but it was much more than any dog before it. Although, every animal in the house and on the deck shared its abilities. Travis looked down at his friend and felt a pang of sadness rip through him. At fifteen, Einstein's coat was liberally streaked with gray. His dark eyes, so full of intelligence and emotion, now required a pair of specially made glasses. Their thickness showing the decline in his sight. The device might have looked stupid on any other animal. But on Einstein they looked... proper. Fitting. He should have all the benefits a human of his advanced years would have. The dog walked with a very pronounced limp now. The legacy of a long ago battle with a monster from a nightmare. "What're you looking at, old man? You'll get yours." Travis wagged the grilling fork at the Dog. The sire and grandsire, even great-grandsire of every animal present. The Dog barked once. Yes. He knew. "Mum!" Every head turned at the cry. Young Jonathan Davis was stumbling toward them. Alone. Something was wrong. Stephanie Davis broke away from the group, jumping over the railing and running to her son. Their companion, Gadget, not a half-step behind. "Jon! What is it? Where are the others?" Her crisp British accent was as welcome as the hug she threw around the child. Her voice both warm and worried. Jonathan was not the type of child to cause a scene. "Gone. Jimmy and Della are gone. Someone shot... Daisy's dead." The boy's voice shook. On the deck the Dogs threw up a simultaneous howl. Long and mournful. Einstein shook. He looked as if he were going to faint. "Jon, Nancy, get Einstein inside." Travis snapped orders like a drill sergeant. "Krystel, please stay here with Nora, tell her what's going on." Even as he spoke Sheryl Martin had sprinted over the railing and was running for the woods, following Jonathan's tracks. Her faithful friend, Wookie, at her side, nose to the ground. Travis went into the house, ignoring the milling voices and the confusion as Stephanie brought Jonathan inside to the warmth of the chalet and protection of friends. He went to the closet and retrieved one of his guns from the lock box. He always carried them now. Ever since he'd met Einstein. He looked up to see his wife looking at him, her eyes wide, her hand to her mouth. She was shaking but there was a look of trust and determination in her eyes. Krystel's arm was around her shoulder in a motherly way, even though she was younger than Nora. As Travis closed the door he was faced with two others. One a black man, his face lined with age, the other a balding middle aged white man developing a slight paunch. Both showed him the guns tucked in their belts. Lemuel Johnson and Harold Baker were both former NSA agents. Travis nodded and they followed him. In their wake walked Scrappy and Buster, their own Dog companions. They went at a half run through the snow, following the tracks left by Sheryl and Wookie. The snow was beginning to fall harder, and the sun was going down. This, Travis realized with a sick knot of dread settling in his stomach. He sent up a prayer for the safety of his children. ##### Hope Jamison hefted the last of the boxes from the back of the truck. She watched as Jackie St. George and Frohike tried to coordinate their efforts to get the last piece of furniture, her father's black leather couch, through the door of the house. That, in itself, was entertainment. Jackie and Frohike hadn't been able to coordinate their efforts all day. If they were carrying furniture his stride was too short, and hers too long, she was trying to hurry and get the job over with, and he was tiring way too fast. Both of them were breathing heavily, the cold causing each puff to form a vapor cloud before their faces. Meanwhile, Heckle and Jeckle were offering advice that was less than helpful and more than infuriating as they managed to lift and carry in perfect synchrony. Helping Dad and Dana move into their new house was turning out to be the most fun Hope had enjoyed in quite a while. The house was a two story fieldstone in the middle of a planned Georgetown community. It had taken them forever to find it. In the end Dad had liked the security system and the presence of the community police. Dana had also sold him on their next door neighbor, a seventy year old woman who loved to gossip, and who noticed EVERYTHING. However, Dana had actually fallen in love with the house itself. Not the three bedrooms they had wanted, but four, and two full baths. The price had been right, and she wanted to be inside a real house BEFORE she popped. Hope noticed the couch and its movers were now safely inside so she jumped off the back of the truck and followed. Inside, Dana was directing the placement of the last piece of furniture. "Right there, under the bay window." Dana was wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She'd been busy making dinner for the moving crew. No one would allow her to lift anything but the lightest of the boxes. She was now eight months pregnant and looked it. Hope was worried that if her baby brother got any bigger Dana wasn't going to be able to walk. "Frohike, just put it down. I don't want to have to touch this thing longer than I have to. God knows what he's DONE on it." Jackie settled the couch on the floor. "Most likely things even I've never dreamed of," he looked pointedly at Dana who arched an eyebrow at him. "And you'd better not, either, or there wouldn't be a judge around who'd convict me." Hope walked past them to set the box she was carrying marked 'Kitchen' in the proper room, with its fellows. Dana was just so organized. The truck had been loaded systematically, the things to go upstairs to be unloaded first and so forth. Hope was in awe of it. "Where are Byers and Langly?" Hope called from the kitchen. "They took some tools upstairs and are putting the beds together." Dana answered as she walked, awkwardly, into the kitchen. She opened the oven and checked on the lasagna. "You are letting THEM put together a bed you intend for me to sleep in? I don't think so." Hope took a step for the door but paused as Dana reached for the phone. "Who're you calling?" Dana smiled. "Mulder, I'm gonna give him hell for being held up in Georgia." Hope paused, then jumped up onto the kitchen's center island, her legs swinging carelessly. "Oh, this I gotta hear." Chapter 2 - Dog tired ---------------- In the sparse comfort of an anonymous hotel room just outside of Millen, Georgia, Mulder was typing up the end of his report with furious jabs of his fingers. He was SUPPOSED to have been out of here yesterday. Their suspect was dead. There had been no more instances of Spontaneous Human Combustion. Case closed. But their damned flight had been canceled. *CRACK* Mulder's head shot up to glare at his partner. She was twirling the string of pink bubble gum around her finger and popping it back in her mouth. She looked over at him and smiled. She knew she was annoying him, and reveling in it. What the hell did he do to deserve this? *CRACK* Another burst bubble, another string of gum. "I'm gonna make you put that on your nose." He growled. She spit the gum into her palm, mushed it with her fingers, then voluntarily stuck it on the end of her pert nose. He was going to shoot her. She kept working on the report she was doing, with a wad of bright pink gum on her nose. It was glaring at him. Mocking him. "You know, Mulder, if you glare too long like that your face will freeze. I'm sure you have a case about that in your files somewhere." He was doomed. She was out to get him. Not sent by the consortium, not to be the backbone to some insidious plot to ruin him, but because she loved to annoy him. She positively got off on it. She was as good at innuendo and sick, dark humor as he was -- which just added to the annoyance. The phone rang and he snatched it up. "Mulder." His face lit up. "I was hoping you'd call. I was gonna call you at nine." He looked over at his partner, "Yeah, she's here. Do I have to?" She looked up and cocked her head to the side, smiling at him. She knew by the look on his face who was on the other end of the phone. "Mulder, if you two start having phone sex, there's gonna be a harassment complaint on your desk before you can blink. If I can't 'git some' for three more weeks I shouldn't have to listen to you talking about your better sex life." "Yeah," he spoke into the phone and flipped her the finger, "that was just Hellen saying hello." The coffee colored woman seated on the hotel bed returned the hand sentiment. The gesture looking ridiculous combined with the bright pink gum stuck to her nose. "Hellen, Scully ordered me to ask you over for dinner when we get back." The look he gave her told her his delight at that prospect. "Give me a time and I'll be there with bells on." She pulled off the gum and grinned. One more point for Matthews. Irritating Fox Mulder had become her link to sanity since requesting this assignment three months ago. Agent Scully had pretty much been forced to take a teaching position at Quantico when she went into her fifth month of pregnancy. She hadn't shared her husband's relief. Hellen had, over the last six months, developed a friendship with Dana Scully. They were kindred souls. And if someone put a gun to her head she might, just might, admit she found herself liking Mulder, too. But she'd have to think about it. A lot. A bullet in the brain might be the better prospect. When Scully had had to transfer until her baby was born and she'd returned from maternity leave, Hellen found herself getting a call. Not from Dana, but from Eddie Kline. She'd taken to seeing him again, and when he'd gotten out of the hospital and had been recovering from his gunshot wounds, Hellen had insisted he stay with her. He'd returned to his PI job in Cleveland with some reluctance. Now, he called her three times a week, e-mailed her every day, and they tended to fly to see each other every other weekend. Eddie had asked her to watch Mulder's back. Told her about the smokestack, and how he didn't want to see Hope Jamison, Mulder's daughter, orphaned again. So, as a favor to both Eddie and Dana, she'd requested to be Mulder's temporary partner. HE had been less then thrilled. S'okay, so was she. Then and there she'd decided that if she were to keep her sanity working in the weirdness that surrounded Mulder, she'd have to have something to fall back on. Something to concentrate on. Unfortunately for him, annoying Mulder had become her hobby. It was just so... FUN. "I'd like to hang a bell around your neck." Mulder's muttering brought her out of her reverie. "Now, wonderbread, I don't go for that kind of kink. Does your wife know you talk like that?" "Matthews, bite me." "Have you had your rabies shots?" "Yeah, have you had yours?" "Geez, Mulder, that ranks up there with 'I know you are but what am I?' Get some original material for Christ sakes. Besides, I wouldn't bite you, I like my meals to have a bit of substance, if ya know what I mean. I'd need a jewelers loop to find YOURS." She grinned, yup, annoying Mulder was fun. It almost made up for finding the illegal wire tap on her phone line the other day. The one she hadn't told Mulder of, but had dutifully informed Skinner about. The things one does for one's friends... "Mulder, don't you know by now that the correct response to Hellen's comment is 'You couldn't get your mouth around what I got.' I agree with her, you are slipping." Scully thus informed him she could hear the entire conversation over the line. Mulder grinned and turned his attention back to the phone. "Look, I'm sorry I got stuck here..." Just then he heard Hope's voice in the background. "Dana, the Salvation Army truck is here for the hideous black couch." "Don't even think about it," he growled. "I don't know, Mulder, you weren't here to help move all of OUR furniture into OUR house, leaving all the work to our way too understanding friends. There wasn't as much room in the living room as we'd thought, and since that couch clashes with all my furniture..." Hope's giggles in the background gave them away. "Very funny. So what, besides backbreaking labor and massive quantities of beer, did I miss?" He asked. "St. George was teaching Hope a drinking game while the guys were confiscating parts of your video collection as payment for services rendered. You know, Hope just can't hold her beer." More giggles in the background. Then St.George's voice. "It wasn't the beer that did her in, it's when we moved to Scotch. You know, the good bottle he'd hid in the back of your cupboard." "Why do I get the feeling that I am just BEGINNING to pay for not being there?" "Geez, Mulder, I may start believing in psychic abilities yet. Hope, you are just no good at keeping a straight face. I guess the Mulder deadpan is NOT an inherent trait." There was a loud thud followed by a "Jesus, what was that?" "What is it, Scully?" The pause was too long for his comfort. Then Scully's voice was back. "Exactly how attached were you to that cue ball coat rack?" "Ha, ha." "Sorry, Mulder. Serious this time. Langly and Byers were putting the beds together upstairs and they'd just stuck the coat rack at the top of the stairs, as I told them the fourth bedroom was gonna be our home office... Well, they were trying to manhandle our mattresses into the room when Langley backed into the coat rack and it went down the stairs. Two arms broke and one of the cue balls came off." "Tell them they better discover the miracle of super glue." It was NOT a good day. ##### It was dark when the group returned. Travis and Harry were carrying Daisy between them. She was already going stiff. Nora pushed past the gathering of friends at the door and, seeing no sign of her children, closed her eyes. "Someone call the police." She spoke softly. Travis shook his head. "We can't." He held out a note. Sheryl had found it nailed to a tree, not far from Daisy's body. "First put on some gloves." Krystel grabbed her gloves from the closet and took it from him and read it aloud to the assembly as the men set down Daisy's body. The dogs surged forward to sniff at her and make whining noises. "Cornell, or Hyatt, whichever you want, We have the kids. They'll stay safe for now. We want five million dollars in untraceable bills by Friday, noon. If the money is not at the place we will appoint later, we will begin to send your children back..." Krystel's voice broke and she eyed Nora nervously. "My God." "What?" Nora tore the note from the younger woman's hands heedless of the warning about gloves and read on, aloud "Send your children back one piece at a time." Her hands began to shake and two of the other women, Nancy and Chantal took her by the arms and guided her to the couch. Nancy took the gloves Krystel handed her and the letter from Nora to read on. "It says if we go to the police they will kill James and Della and ruin all our plans, as they... they know about the Dogs. They claim they'll make sure everyone knows about them as well. They finish their demands with an additional ransom of the last pure bred litter." Pandemonium broke loose. Buster raced away from Daisy's remains to face Mindy, his mate. She whined and looked behind her into the room. Their five puppies, were laying on the floor inside, sleeping in a tangled heap. They were getting bigger, but they were still only six months old. Not yet grown up. They were the last litter born. "Hold it, hold it!" Travis' voice boomed over the babble. "We are not going to be handing over ANY of our friends. Nor are we going to pay any ransom. Nora and I don't have this kind of money, and while we know all of you would be willing to help... these kind of people cannot be given in to." He looked across the room to Nora. Her eyes were full of pain, but she nodded. He thanked God. She was one of the strongest people he knew. She'd dealt with evil before. Sheryl spoke up. "The snowfall made it difficult, but we could make out two, possibly three sets of adult sized footprints. ALSO there was an area where an obvious struggle took place. By the size of some of the indentations there I'd say Daisy attacked one of them. Brushing into the snow we found blood, so she at least wounded one of them." "Way to go, Daisy." That had come from Kelly Phillips. She stood among the others, her three year old daughter balanced on her hip. Little Kassy, like the other children of the group, had been kept in eye sight. "Harry and I are going to see what we can find out. But on top of that, we have some friends... Buster has some friends... people we can call for help without getting into an OFFICIAL investigation." Lemual Johnson looked at his wife, then over at Buster, who had turned with Mindy to follow the discussion. "Strangers?" Rob Rogers' voice called above the din, "You want to bring in strangers?" "Not strangers," Harry spoke up. "The people who rescued and helped Buster. They are FBI, and they've kept our secrets this long." "FBI?" Krystel looked doubtful, "A couple of stone-faced, by-the-book jerks who couldn't find their asses with both hands?" Buster walked forward and barked twice to negate Krystel's statement. He used body language and little noises to communicate to the other Dogs in the room, to convince them, especially's Krystel's Arabella. The Dogs understood. If one of theirs said a human could be trusted... they would trust them without reservation. Buster barked once. Yes. Fox and Dana. Get Fox and Dana... ##### James Hyatt was cold, even with his coat on. His hands were tied behind him and they'd covered his face with a black cloth bag. He heard Della sniffling softly next to him. He wanted to cry too. The bad men had left. He couldn't hear them in the room any more, but he could hear the wind howling outside, which made him shiver again. "Jimmy?" Della's voice was shaky. "I'm here Della," he leaned over and felt his shoulder touch hers. He scooted his bottom over to press his side against her, trying to share warmth and comfort. He had to be strong, for both of them. He was the oldest. Della was just a kid. "Can you see anything?" "N...no. They put a sack over my head, and my hands are tied behind me. I think it's plastic ties." She lay her head on his shoulder. "Why are they doing this, Jimmy?" "I don't know, Della. I don't know." "Jimmy, I'm scared. They killed Daisy." Della sniffed again. "Maybe they just hurt her. I bet she's managed to go get Jonathan and they went for help right away. I bed Dad and Mom are looking for us right now." They both froze when they heard a clicking noise. It was a familiar sound. Dog claws on hardwood. A dog? Had they been locked up with a regular old dog? Maybe something big and mean like a doberman or a pit bull... A largeish head pushed into James' stomach, a familiar feel, a gesture of affection. He felt a nose poke at his face through the fabric and sweet breath in his face. Sweet, because all their Companions had an additive put in their water to reduce their doggy breath, by their own request. "Daisy!" James cried out happily and was answered by a soft *Whuff*. "Daisy?" Della shifted at James' side. "I thought they killed you. How did you find us girl?" They received no answer. Instead they felt their friend lay over their combined laps, sharing her heat with them and calming their shivers. Chapter 3 - Teaching an old dog new tricks ----------------- The garage had been emptied of Travis's jeep and a table placed in the middle. Five people stood around the table. One canine form lay on it. Deb Prewitt looked sadly from Travis to Harry to Lem, "Shall we begin?" She wore a pair of surgical gloves and she nodded to Mary McKibben, the other veterinarian of the group. Deb bent over Daisy's corpse with grim determination. She was not objective, she wanted the person responsible to pay for this, but she was cautious, because she wanted James and Della back almost as much as Travis and Nora. "One shot. To the eye. You'll all be relieved to know she died instantly, most likely didn't even know what hit her. Exit wound is in the back of her head." She was stating the obvious. The back of Daisy's skull was gone. Deb kept her voice flat, yet she could not turn off her heart. She had delivered Daisy's pups, had been part of The Family for ten years. This was no ordinary animal lying here, never to rise again. This was once a wonderful, loving being who could play a mean game of chess or Doom on the computer. Daisy had once personally beaten Deb, herself, at chess. Daisy had also been a writer. She had a series of disks loaded with the history of The Dogs, from her father, Einstein's, earliest memories and what Lem could tell her, and up to Buster and Mindy's litter. "Deb, look at this." Mary lifted one of Daisy's front paws. Embedded in the nails was a faint blue coloration. "Lem, give me a baggie." Deb held out her hand. She scraped a few flakes into the bag. "It's blue. Didn't Jonathan identify a blue or gray van? I'm betting Daisy managed to scrape at it somehow. It looks like the kind of flaking you get when you scrape a car's paint job. Not too powdery." Lem took the bag and held it up. "Travis, can you charter a direct flight to DC? Harry, call in our friends, have them meet the charter at the airport. We have friends who can check out this paint." Travis nodded. "Right on it. Gunmen?" Lem nodded. "As resourceful as any official lab. I'll bet they can give us the shade and maker, as well as what auto manufacturers used it on what cars during what years. It's a good lead." Travis left the garage to make the calls. ##### A new language had cropped up among those who KNEW. Anyone who knew and kept the secret, who honored the existence of the Dogs whether they were adopted by one or not, was part of The Family. A unit. A group devoted to one another though the wonder of knowledge, bound by bonds as strong as those of blood. All would risk anything for their friends. The Dogs, capitalized, were those special canines descended of Einstein. Companions was the name given to both the Human and Canine halves of a smaller family unit. The Dogs were not pets, and - despite what the tags they wore to appease conventional laws might say - their human companions never really owned them. A human never chose a Dog. The Dog did the choosing. This branch of the family was especially close. They had all arrived two days after Thanksgiving and planned on staying until next week. Thirty one people and twenty eight Dogs had been enjoying an idealistic vacation. Most of those people were employees of Hyatt Homes, the real estate business run by Travis and Nora. The rest were friends met through an odd assortment of circumstances, all bound together by a secret. A wonderful secret. The knowledge of the Dogs. The Chalet was segregated for the first time in days. The men in the group were gathered in the living room, speaking in hushed voices. The children were sleeping, in each of their rooms a pair of Dog's slept in rotations, one alert while the other slept. Constant guards. Nora was in the kitchen baking. Her hands working dough, her mind trying to focus on the simple task. Trying, in fact, not to think. When stressed, Nora baked. A group of women also had gathered in the kitchen, seated around the table. None offered to help Nora. They knew her well enough to know she needed the mundane simplicity of the task. Krystel Oxley-Johns and Nancy Lemieux kept looking from one another to Nora. Watching over her. Waiting for the first sign that intervention was needed. Mel Mooney and Michelle Siiberg were trying to talk of harmless things, the last houses they sold. Sheryl Martin had sat with them for all of five minutes before her own pent up frustration and anger forced her to leave. "Goin' for a walk," she'd said. Only pausing to grab her ski jacket, she had almost run from the place, Wookie pacing at her heels, his eyes worried. Currently Nora was convinced if she stopped baking she would go mad. She would stand in the middle of this kitchen and stare at nothing as her mind snapped under the strain. Her babies were gone. Taken. Stolen. They could be hurt... She scooped up another handful of cocoa to add to the cake batter in the bowl. They were definitely scared, wanting their mother and father... She set to beating the mix together with violent strokes of the wooden spoon. Had they been forced to see their friend murdered before their eyes? The bowl broke in her hand from the force of her stirring. Krystel and Nancy were up and at her side in an instant. Nancy grabbed a dish rag and began cleaning the glass and chocolate batter. "Nora, maybe you should..." Krystel started. "Should what? I should be out there looking for my babies, but I can't. I don't know where they are. The snow... the snow has already erased their footprints. It's like they were never out there at all. Why did I let them leave the chalet? Why did I let them out of my sight?" Nora began to wring her hands. Einstein was at her side then, his nose pressed into her leg. He whined in the back of his throat. She looked down at him. He'd lain out the scrabble tiles they still kept in a dispenser for emergency messages. NOT YOUR FAULT. MINE. Nora sobbed and fell to her knees. "Oh, no, Furface. Never. Never yours. I know how you are thinking and you stop it right now. If I never met you, I'd never have known Travis. I'd never have learned to trust. And James and Della would never have been born. You are the root of all good in our lives. Don't you dare blame yourself for this." They all looked up as Travis came through the back door. He took in the scene and closed his eyes, his face etched with pain. He needed to do something, say something to offer Nora hope. "They found blue paint under Daisy's claws. From the van Jonathan saw, or so we think. I'm going to call John, have him get his plane out here. Lem's gonna take the paint out to DC and have the boys look at it. He's also gonna call Buster's friends and they'll most likely fly back here with John by morning." "Hours." Nora half whispered. "We're going to organize a search party, too. Everyone with a four wheel drive will be out on the roads, stopping at the other chalets, rental places and any building we see to ask if anyone saw a blue van. Maybe we can find out where they went." Travis knelt beside his wife, his brown eyes met her gray ones. The other people in the kitchen ceased to exist. "We will find them, Nora. We will do everything in our considerable power to find them." Nora believed him. Not because she was foolish, or unrealistic, but because she had no other choice. She HAD to believe him. ##### Hope looked around with satisfaction. The kitchen was in order. Every other room might be full of boxes of unpacked books, knickknacks and such, but the kitchen was a serene island of clean white tile and hardwood floor. After dinner Dana had sent the 'work crew' home with many thanks and all the leftovers. Then she had started to unpack the rest of the dishes and pans, the appliances and other things that personalized a kitchen. Hope had let out an exasperated sigh and dug in beside her. If her step-mother thought she was gonna be lifting things into the higher cabinets she was out of her mind. Hope did not want to have to explain to Mulder how Dana's water broke trying to wrestle a bunch of glass serving dishes into the cupboard. It was almost eleven, and both women were ready to drop, but at least ONE room in the new house was done. Hope looked at Scully. She was looking particularly worn out as she leaned against the center island. "You know, we should have done the bathroom first, then we wouldn't have to dig through the boxes for towels and soap." Scully smiled. "They're in the box on the vanity up there. Just open it up and you're all ready. Shampoo as well." "Where did you learn all this stuff. You take organization to a whole new level... either that or you give the word anal a whole new meaning." Hope dodged the swipe at her head. "My Dad was in the Navy. My family moved around a lot when I was growing up. Mom had the whole moving process down to a science. The rest of us kinda picked up on it." "Lucky for us. You saved a lot of work, that's for sure. You get the shower first.... age before beauty." This time she wasn't fast enough and she did get the thwack upside her head. The shower was running upstairs when she hear the chirrup of a cell phone. Hope looked about the living room and it's horde of boxes and despaired of ever finding the source. However, following the sound she discovered Dana's winter coat hanging on the rack by the door. She reached into the pocket and found the disturbance. She thumbed the 'speak' button. "You have reached the phone of Dana Scully, she can't come to her cell phone right now but if you leave your name, number and brief message she'll be sure to call you back. Beeeep." "Is this Hope?" A stranger's voice asked. There was the sound of an engine in the background. "Um...Last time I checked in the mirror." "This is Lemual Johnson. We met at your dad's wedding." Hope remembered the dignified black man who had escorted the two very special Dogs to the ceremony. "Oh yes, I remember you, Mr. Johnson. Can I take a message?" "Can you have them call me at my cell number as soon as possible? Tell them it's life and death." The shower had turned off upstairs. "Wait a second, if it's that urgent..." Hope ran up the stairs with the phone. "Dana, Lem Johnson on the line. He said its life and death." She opened the bathroom door a crack and passed the phone in the narrow opening. Dana took it. Hope curbed her natural curiosity and went to the room she'd been told was hers whenever she wanted. The guys had put the bed together, and the mattresses were on it, but it was unmade. She hadn't expected any boxes in this room, but there was one right inside the door. Black marker labeled it 'Hope's Room'. She frowned and lifted it to the bed. It weighed about ten pounds and was somewhat large. She ripped open the tape and peered inside. Two sheet sets one in cream, the other in a rose print and a comforter. She lifted them out and was startled to find a framed picture nestled at the bottom. It was an enlargement of one of the family portraits that had survived the fire at her old home. It showed herself at the age of six or so sitting on her Momma's lap, her Daddy stood behind them and leaning in. He had one hand on Momma's shoulder and the other on Hope's. It was the last family portrait the Jamison's had taken as a family of three. Three months later Maria Jamison would learn she wasn't suffering from menstrual cramps, but advanced ovarian cancer. Less than a year after this was taken Hope and her Daddy had watched them place the casket in the ground. It had been one of her favorite portraits. How had they known? She wiped a stubborn tear from her eye, but another splashed on the glass covering the picture. Mulder must have gone through every page of the blackened albums after he discovered Hope's existence, saving what he could. He'd had them set into new albums. Many pictures were lost forever, but a surprising number had been salvageable. He'd given them to her two months after they had met. She'd often wondered how long he had poured over them himself. Seeing her as a baby in them, as a toddler, her first class pictures... seeing her happy with the Jamisons. Had he been hurt by it? Did he wish it had been him holding her for her first steps? Yeah, most likely. Her dad had the biggest capacity for self flagellation and undue guilt of anyone she'd ever met. Must be the Jewish heritage, she decided with a smirk. However, this picture had not been in the albums he'd given her. She'd thought it lost. Now she knew he'd had it enlarged and framed. She ran her fingers over the glass. She set the unexpected gift on the empty nightstand by her bed. Tomorrow she'd retrieve another picture from her dorm at Georgetown U. The one she kept there, from the wedding. It was of her, Dad and Dana in front of Japanese garden exhibit. She liked it because in that... they looked like a family. All of them smiling, Mulder standing between his new wife and Hope, his arms around their shoulders. Yes. That one would sit right next to the picture of the Jamisons. She looked at her door. Dana had been quiet for a long while. Tearing herself away from the pictures she went to the open door of the master bedroom. Dana had a suitcase on the bed and she was opening boxes, transferring folded clothes from boxes to suitcase. "Dana, what's wrong?" She looked up at Hope. She wasn't in her nightgown, but in a trapeze sweater and wool leggings. Her feet were shoved into boots. "I have to meet a plane in three hours." "Three hours? Two a.m.? That's insane. Dana, I know you aren't doing field work, and let's face it, what airline is going to let you fly at this late date?" Hope gestured to the bulk the green trapeze sweater did nothing to hide. "Private charter, private matter." She drug out another suitcase and pulled out a box of Mulder's clothes. "Dad too?" "Plane's gonna pick him up in Georgia. Hellen's flying back commercially, alone." She shoved jeans and sweaters into Mulder's suitcase. "Private matter? As in... I'm not to know." Hope let the hurt into her voice. Scully sighed. "Hope, it's about the Dogs. Two children have been kidnaped, and the people that took them know about the Dogs. Therefore official help can't be brought in. We know the secrets, and hopefully we can find the children before they are hurt." Hope nodded. "I'll go pack." "No. You stay here, you have classes." "I'll make them up. You need someone to carry those bags, and whether you like to admit it or not... Dana, you are due in less then four weeks. I'll stay out of the way, I promise. However, YOU can't go chasing after the bad guys in your condition, and Dad won't be able to stay with you if he IS chasing the bad guys. It's either me or... I'm calling your mother." "Hope..." "Don't try it. I have the Mulder stubborn streak. You forget, I'm financially independent of you and Dad. I can just dip into my inheritance and follow you on a charter. That call was from Lem Johnson... he and the other Dogs are in California... but you're packing for cold." Scully shook her head. "You would just go and get yourself lost... Alright, go pack. But the minute you get in the way we're shipping your ass back here." Hope grinned and ran for her car keys. She could pack her things at the dorm and be back in less than an hour. Scully looked at the empty doorway. "Mulder is gonna kill me." Chapter 4 - Dog is my co-pilot ----------------- "Mulder, you are out of your fucking mind. I mean, I knew you were nuts, but you're dragging Dana into this little trip to lala land, too." Mulder's grip on his garment bags tightened. Damnit, Matthews really fought dirty when she wanted to. "Scully called ME, right after our friend did. It's a Family emergency." Pretty good, he reasoned with himself. He wasn't technically lying. He cursed that his long legs made no difference with Matthews. She was also tall, and he couldn't outpace her at a brisk walk. "There are provisions for that, you know. And if you think I can stop Dana from doing anything you're the one who's out of their fucking mind." The air in Georgia was nippy. Not as nearly as cold as it was in DC at this time of year, and not as cold as Colorado. Both agents had passed airport security with calls of conformation on their badges. They stood on the tarmac of the private section of runway. Mulder checked his watch then saw the plane. On time. The plane wasn't as small as he'd expected. It landed on the runway, then turned back to stop a hundred yards from them. Mulder walked out to it even as the door opened and a set of flimsy looking metal steps hung down. He saw Hellen was right behind him. Great. Ascending the six steps he crouched and entered the plane. Scully smiled at him then pushed past him and out the door. He had to admit he'd hoped for a more... enthusiastic greeting. Hope laughed and his eyes darted to her, surprise on his face. "What the hell..." "I'm looking out for Dana. I promised to stay out of the way. I also pointed out I'd just hop the next commercial flight if you tried to stop me coming WITH you." Hope noticed Hellen enter the plane. "Um... I didn't realize..." "She's not coming. I think she was gonna try to convince Scully not to finish this trip." Mulder stuffed his bags in the back of the plane. "Damn straight, but she tore off across the tarmac." Hellen frowned. "Ladies room. John forgot to install one." Hope nodded to the front of the plane. It was only then that Mulder noticed the pilot, a dark haired man in his early thirties who removed his headset and offered Mulder his hand. "John Strasser, pleased to meet you." Mulder shook his hand, then noticed the co-pilot, unfortunately at the same time Hellen did. "This has GOT to be against FAA rules." The co-pilot barked at her once. Mulder grinned. One bark meant yes. "That's Yogi Bear. Sometimes we call him Yogi, sometimes we call him Bear. Depends on his mood mostly. If it's any consolation ma'am, Yogi knows this plane as well as I do, and he flies fine, it's just landings he has trouble with." John grinned. "The world has gone nuts. I'm the only sane person left." Hellen mumbled. "I wouldn't go that far, Matthews. If it makes you feel better I think you're a few sandwiches short of a picnic, myself." Mulder sat in the first aisle seat it gave him plenty of leg room. "Yeah, like I'd trust your judgment," Hellen snorted. "I am a psychologist, you know. If you want I can have you committed..." "The only thing I should be committed for is accepting being assigned YOU as a partner." She threw up her hands. "Hope, if I were to tell Eddie half the shit I now know about this character, he'd be pullin out his hair with worry over you and I'd have to spend my life with a bald man." "You'd drop Eddie for Skinner?" Mulder smirked. Hellen was saved from responding by Scully climbing back into the plane. "We all set? Oh, Hi Hellen." "Dana, a dog is your co-pilot." Hellen gestured to the open cabin. "Hellen, I hadn't realized you were dyslexic." Mulder grinned, he was finally getting his back and loved it. "Fuck you, Mulder." "Not in front of my wife, please. Thanks for seeing me to the airport. I'll see you when we get back. If Skinner has questions on the report he has my cell number. Goodbye, don't forget to write and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out." "Hellen, I'll be fine. Hope is going to be fine. Some friends need our help, so we're going. If you keep this up you might hyperventilate." Scully squeezed the taller woman's shoulder. "I'll call you when we get there if it'll make you feel better." "It would." Hellen glared at Mulder. "I KNOW this is all one huge ploy just so *I* have to face Skinner tomorrow with this crazy assed psychic killer report of yours, Mulder. I'm not amused." With that she exited the plain. "Ok everyone, please be seated and buckle up. Place your trays in their upright positions." John actually set a headset on Yogi's head, over the retriever's closed ear flaps. Only then replacing his own. "Tower this is flight 021270 on route to Colorado..." He spewed off coordinates and their flight plan as Mulder felt Scully settle next to him. No matter how annoyed he was that she's allowed Hope to come, her presence was comforting. He'd missed her this last week. "Hey, beautiful." He took her hand. "Hey there, yourself." She handed him a plain file folder. "The guys gave us these to look over. It's all they have so far." Mulder flipped open the file. Inside was pictures of two children, a boy and a girl aged thirteen and ten. Both had dark hair and sweet smiles. Every shot of them featured one or more retrievers. James and Della Hyatt. He'd read up on Samuel and Nora Hyatt right after they'd returned from the fiasco involving Buster. He'd also looked up the records on Travis Cornell and Nora Devon. The Hyatts currently owned a real estate firm that placed their liquid assets at around 3.5 million. It was not as surprising as it might seem for people who literally did not exist thirteen years ago. Travis Cornell had been pretty good at real estate. Just like he'd been pretty good in the Delta Force anti terrorist corps. Travis was damn good at just about everything he'd done. Nora was his second wife. His first, Paula had died of cancer, apparently sending Cornell into a downward spiral that he didn't come out of until he ran into an escaped lab animal, Einstein. The first Dog. Bred to be human smart. Soon after he'd taken in Einstein he'd met Nora Devon, who almost didn't exist at all, according to records. They'd married in Vegas and almost immediately, Travis and Nora Cornell ceased to exist. They became new people. People Einstein couldn't be traced to. People with a clean slate. Einstein wasn't the only thing that escaped the government funded lab though. A killing machine had also escaped. And it hated The Dog. It was connected to Einstein on some psychic level. It killed too many people before finally finding the Dog and its new family. It hadn't reckoned on someone trained in the Delta Force, or the loyalty the Dog inspired. The creature known as the Outsider died in the Hyatt's garage. Supposedly, and according to all official records, The Outsider had killed the Dog before Hyatt killed IT. Luckily that report had been filed by none other then Lemual Johnson. Now someone had kidnaped the Hyatt's kids. Mulder's fingers traced the little girl's face. She was a year older than Sam had been, but this time no older brother had been left behind. He, too, was missing. These kids were taken, and a demand made for money, more than the Hyatt's could possibly get without aid, AND for the last litter of the Dogs. Buster's litter. His friend's children. These people in essence wanted to trade five children for two. Did it matter that the five had fur coats and paws? They were not human, but they thought as humans do, and they had human feelings. They were, in essence, much more like children then puppies. The plane began to move and Mulder looked up from the map of the resort's layout. Their pilot was absorbed in his pre-flight activities and preparations for take off. "Do you think they're alive, Dad?" Mulder looked back to see Hope sitting behind them. "Yes. I do. Killing them wouldn't get them what they want. If the Hyatts ask for proof that they're alive this person has to give it to them or risk losing his deal." "But why kill the Dog, Daisy, if they want some of the Dogs alive? It makes no sense." Mulder looked to Scully for her support, but she was sound asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. He looked back at the file Lem had drawn up for them. It DIDN'T make sense, except Daisy was of the first litter. Einstein's daughter. She was eleven years old. Getting on in doggie years. Maybe they required the puppies because they'd be malleable. Trainable. More easily broken. More years ahead of them. He began working on a profile in his head, a rough draft as the plane took off. Chapter 5 - Hair of the dog ----------------- Mulder woke up to the sound of engines. Plane engines. There was a weight on his shoulder and his arm was asleep. Looking over he saw Scully sleeping peacefully against him, her cheek pressed against his coat. If the mild crink in his neck was any indication he had the imprint of her hair on his cheek. He moved his head around, carefully, loosening up that annoying crink without waking his wife. There was a touch of sunlight outside the plane window. Mulder looked forward at the unconcealed cabin and felt his skin chill. Their pilot was also sound asleep. His head back on the seat, his mouth slightly open, and a soft snore to confirm the obvious. The earphone-bedecked Dog, Yogi, looked back at him, and Mulder could have sworn he was grinning. Joking with Hellen aside, Mulder was not comfortable with the idea that not only his life, but that of his wife and... children... were now in the hands, or was that paws, of a Dog. Gut instinct. It looks like a dog, it smells like a dog, it barks like a dog, it MUST be a dog. Rationally he knew the amazing mind lurking behind those soulful, yet mischievous, eyes. But his rational mind was having a hell of a time convincing his irrational hands to pry their fingers away from the arms of the seat. "You know what you are doing, right?" he asked the Dog. His answer was two soft whuffs. Wait a minute! TWO! Two meant NO! The momentary panic must have shown because the Dog's shoulders shook and his eyes danced merrily. The damned Dog was JOKING. "Ha, ha. I'm highly amused. You're a regular Robin Williams." John must have awoken at the sounds of conversation. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at Yogi. "Everything all right?" One whuff this time. "Making the passengers nervous?" John looked back at Mulder with a grin. Another single whuff. "Bad dog." The Dog stood in the seat, turned around and lifted his hind quarters, his tail high. Without words Yogi had managed to say 'kiss my ass' quite nicely. "Are they all smart asses?" Mulder looked away from Yogi to John. "Yeah, pretty much. I guess they all learned their humor from Einstein, and he was just BORN a smartass." "I've never met him." Mulder stretched his legs and tried clenching and unclenching the fingers of his right hand to get the blood flowing again. "You will today. I can't wait to see you and Travis together. I have to admit, seeing you get on the plane was quite a shock. Shame I can't come with you to see you two meet." John checked his instrument panel and checked the time. "Why?" "Agent Mulder, you could be Travis' younger brother. He wears his hair shorter, and he has gray in it, but you have the same build, same height, and except for the mole and the nose, almost the same face." John leaned over in his seat, peering at Mulder. "What color eyes you got?" Mulder frowned. "Hazel. They change." John nodded. "Different eyes then. Travis has really dark brown ones, almost black. Still an uncanny resemblance." Hope announced her wakefulness with a whiny, "Are we there yet?" John smiled. "Almost. We land in thirty minutes." * The runway was free of snow, but the rest of the landscape was frosted over. Scully hadn't said a word in complaint, but Mulder could tell by her posture as they landed that she needed to find the ladies room again, as soon as they landed. He COULD tease her about it, but decided he liked his manhood just where it was, thankyouverymuch. Their landing was smooth and without incident. Thankfully, JOHN landed the plane. Yogi only watched over the procedure. When they stepped outside, the frigid air snatched away their breath. A Jeep Cherokee was parked to the side. Both the drivers side door and the passenger door opened. Harry Baker stepped out of the vehicle, but a blur of boundless, red-furred energy raced at them then jumped up on Mulder, almost knocking him over as Buster licked his chin. "Buster! Great to see you too, boy." He dropped his bags and scratched the Dog behind the ears. Only to have Buster abandon him to sit before Scully. He didn't jump on her. The Dog cocked his head to the side and studied her. His eyes seemed to hold both pride and approval. She bent to pet him briefly. Buster looked at Hope and treated her as he had her father. They had only met briefly before, but they had impressed each other. "Any news, Harry?" Mulder loaded their bags into the Cherokee while Scully disappeared into the hanger to their left. "None." The older man looked grim. "We decided against ASKING people about the van, as it might tip off the kidnappers, so we've been pretty much driving around hoping to spot it. Needle in a haystack if ya ask me. Travis, Lem and I thought these people must have followed us from California. If they knew about us, about the Dogs, it was the most likely starting point. I've been running a computer check on all rental blue vans, all makes and models, rented in the area within the last two weeks." Harry opened the back door for Hope and Buster and they climbed in. "Einstein is still running it while I came to pick you up." Harry looked toward the hanger. "I have to admit, I don't think any of us realized how far along Dana was. We would never have asked her..." "And she'd have come anyway." Mulder grinned. "Both the women in my life have a stubborn streak." Just then Scully returned, looking much relieved. ##### James awoke surprised he'd fallen asleep. His arms were numb, and he was still chilled, but Daisy's comforting warmth had helped ward off the worst of the cold. "Daisy?" Jimmy was amazed that his legs had not fallen asleep from her weight. A single, soft whuff answered him. "Daisy, you have to go, you have to get help." Two soft whuffs. No. No? Why? "Daisy, we need you to get help." He felt her shiver on his lap. She whined in the back of her throat. "Daisy?" Della's voice. She was awake, too. With a frightening suddenness Daisy's weight and warmth was gone, and there was the sound of a door being thrown open, banging against a wall. Frigid wind whipped into the room and tore at the children's body heat. "Rise and shine, brats. It's breakfast time." Jimmy knew the direction of the voice by the sound and tried to place himself between the speaker and Della. It didn't work, of course. The sack mask was untied and lifted from the boy's head. Jimmy blinked against the light. Two men stood in the room. They wore ski masks. The room was bare of all furniture but a table in the middle. The windows were mostly boarded over, but there was light streaming in through cracks. The speaker bent down and put two bowls of dry dog food and a single bowl of water on the floor. "Chow down." His laugh was cruel, and made Jimmy's skin crawl. "I'm not hungry," Jimmy managed through clenched teeth. "You will be eventually, and that's all you're getting. We'll just leave it fer ya." He kicked the bowl of food closer then turned and both men left. Jimmy heard them turn a lock. Jimmy looked over at Della. She too was free of the sack, and she was staring at the bowls on the floor with tears in her eyes. "Della, it'll be ok. Mom and dad will find us." Jimmy tried to sound reassuring. "I'm scared, Jimmy." She leaned back against the wall. "Where's Daisy?" Jimmy looked around and saw no trace of their friend. Maybe she had gotten out and gone for help after all. "I think she went for help. Just hold on, Della." Jimmy looked down to see the rope tying his ankles. Just plain rope. If he could free his hands he could undo the rope in no time. But his hands were the problem. His fingers traced the contraption. The plastic handcuff ties he'd seen on COPS by the feel of it. He couldn't break them or loosen them no matter how much he tried. He ended up only hurting his wrists. He needed a plan. ##### The ride had been dicey. The roads had been plowed and salted, but a light snow continued to fall. The ski resorts were most likely in ecstasy. The car pulled up in front of a large chalet and a bunch of people and Dogs literally poured out of it. The man in front if the wave made Mulder understand John Strausser's observations. Mulder got out of the car and offered his hand to Travis Hyatt. The two men were amazingly alike. Scully stepped around the car and grinned. "Now there is an X-File for you, Mulder." Chapter 6 - Dogging their heels ----------------- The dining area of the Hyatt's Chalet had been turned into an amazingly efficient base. Maps were spread across the table and there was a Dog sitting at a computer, a mouse under one paw, and a stylus in his mouth. That, Mulder assumed, was Einstein, the Dog engineered at Banodyne Labs fifteen years ago. That is if the heavy streaks of gray in his coat, and a thick set of glasses attached to his face with an elastic style band wrapped around his head were any indication. There was a series of introductions, both human and canine, then Hyatt motioned to the maps. "We've marked every shack, house, rental place and hotel in the area that we've checked for a blue van. Those are the yellow dots. We've got a team out now, checking parking lots, garages and drive ways." "Can I see the ransom note?" Mulder noticed Hope moving away from the table. She saw a woman, Krystel, surrounded by the other children of the group. She had their attention as she told a story, a benevolent Denmother. Hope sat behind a toddler who was getting antsy. She picked the child up and placed the little girl on her lap, bouncing her on her knee and pretending to steal her nose. Frank Gesuele handed Mulder the note. "Harry already dusted it. No prints." Scully stood at Mulder's side and read. "Have they contacted you again?" Mulder asked, noting the common bond paper used, the note was printed on a computer. Laser printer quality. Travis shook his head. "No." Mulder studied the note. Something was bothering him about it, and he couldn't put his finger on it. "Your estimated LIQUID worth is 2.5, isn't it? Yet, they ask for double that. Either they haven't been watching you as closely as you think or..." Mulder looked quickly away from Travis and met Scully's eyes. "Or they don't want me to pay? You think this is revenge of some sort?" Travis' hands were balled into fists at his sides. "How many enemies do you have, Mr. Hyatt?" Scully asked softly. "Personally? Not many. Our mutual enemies might just be sick enough to try this, with their sole object the puppies and not the money." Mulder nodded. Those who clung to the shadows couldn't PROVE that Einstein and his get actually existed. They might suspect, but all their attempts to obtain on of the Dogs had, thus far, failed. "It's possible, but not their style. They'd never have bothered mentioning money, just a straight out trade for the pups." Mulder scanned the note again. So what DO you think they want, Mr. Mulder?" Travis sat back in one of the dining room chairs. He looked dead tired and frayed at the edges. "I think they want the money. But I don't think we're dealing with rocket scientists here." Mulder gestured with the note. "Speak for yourself." A small but well built redhead stepped from the kitchen. She crossed her arms disapprovingly. She looked like she spent plenty of time at the gym. Mulder frowned. "Huh?" "Lioness Smythe. And I'm a rocket scientist." She stood behind Travis and the room filled with some much needed laughter. ##### "Damnit, Hank, my leg hurts." The large man pulled his leg up onto the over-worn couch and once again pulled up the leg of his sweatpants. The bandage was at least clean this time. The two previous changes had left blood slowly seeping through. It was a fire in his leg, and it really hurt to stand on. "Ya think that mutt had rabies?" "You foamin at the mouth, Mike?" Hank tossed back another beer. "Nah, they keep those dogs in top shape. Probably was healthier then you. Quitcher bitchen and help me out here... Think we should have Hyatt drop the money at the old corner store?" Mike shrugged. "Works for me. What happens if they don't pay?" "Then we just walk away." Hank grinned through his beard. "Storm's movin in. Oughtta be here in two days. Tied up and without heat, weather'll take care of the brats for us." Hank Dryden considered himself a lucky man. All his life things usually just fell into his lap. Like this deal, for instance. His cousin was a hacker, first rate too. He'd once worked for this crime boss outta Vegas. Once, when ol cousin Kirk was boozed up but good, he'd spilled about one of his best pieces of work. Counterfeiting untraceable and complete backgrounds for this couple on the run. He didn't know much about the couple, only that they were desperate, like all the clients he'd dealt with. And that their new name was Hyatt. Used to be Cornell. Cousin Kirk usually didn't drink. He got too talkative when he drank. He shouldn't have drank that night. But he'd just gotten engaged and was celebrating. There was no wedding. Poor Kirk was found with a bullet in his head the next morning. Hank smiled. He'd never killed anyone before. It had felt good. He and he alone held the power of life and death over someone. That other person had no choice. It was all up to Hank. He'd felt like God. Armed with that little tidbit of information Hank had started to look around. Anyone named Hyatt fell under his inspection at one time or another. The knowledge he had ought to be good for SOME blackmail money. It was only four months ago he's noticed Hyatt Homes. It was a kinda big operation. All manner of real estate. And the couple who ran it fit Kirk's description just perfect. Not only were they living lives not theirs... but it soon became apparent that they were runnin' some sort of purebred puppy mill. All the mutts crawlin around, they had to be rakin in plenty under the table. Now Hank had got to thinkin' they might just laugh in his face if he went up and tried the direct demand for a cut. But these two had kids. They seemed to be spoiled kids. If he and his brother managed to get their hands on one or both of the brats... then the Hyatts would have to hand over the money, right? Hank popped open another beer and took a chug. Yep, it took a couple a weeks of plannin' and diggin' around, but they'd hatched this little plan. It was a sweet one. Soon, the money, like a lot of other things, would just fall into Hank's lap. And he just might share it with his shit stupid brother, too. ##### James was beginning to worry. His fingers were stiff and numb with cold. He looked at his sister. Della was curled into a ball of misery. James began to hear a scraping sound. An insistent clawing. Something digging at wood. "Daisy?" He called out. The little room was empty. However, the noise continued. All at once the metal ring once attached to the wall fell with a clatter. James looked at it. It had once grounded a old wood stove pipe to the wall. His eyes looked up to where it had been. There were deep furrows in the wood surrounding the blackened impression it left behind. Claw marks. Like those of a dog. James swallowed, his throat suddenly gone dry. The metal ring moved toward him a little. There was nothing to move it. Then again. It was being pushed across the floor. James' eyes were as big as saucers as he looked over at Della, who was also watching the progress of the metal ring. "Daisy?" She asked into the nothingness. The single woof startled them both, and James wanted to pee his pants. he had wanted to for a while now but that was beside the point. Della was sniffling now. Wet tracks smearing down her face. "I knew... I knew they got you, girl." The only answer was the ring rolling over to bump against James' leg. It wad a ragged edge. Maybe ragged enough to saw through the plastic cuffs. James tried to slow his hammering heart. "D... daisy? I... this is crazy." Something warm and comforting puffed in his face and he felt the familiar head butt against his chest. But there was nothing there. ##### Mulder looked away from the maps currently being updated. Some people had just come in and made their reports. Einstein had found nothing in any rental agency computers. They were getting nowhere, and time was running out. He knew the longer the children were missing the worse their chances were. It had only been 48 hours, but things were currently looking bleak. He felt a paw on his leg and looked down. It was a Dog, but not a full retriever. This one was mixed with... beagle maybe. It's fur was very short and it's head, back and sides were brown. It's belly and tip of it's tail were white, as were the four 'socks' on it's legs. "That's Tramp." Harry handed Mulder a cup of coffee. "He hasn't picked a family yet. Daisy was his mother. Buster has been working on him, talking you and Agent Scully up as only Dogs can. I think he's considering you two." The Dog cocked his head to one side and seemed to have engaged Mulder in a staring contest. "I'm not sure that would be such a great idea. They're still looking for these guys, as if the disappearance of these kids weren't proof enough." "But Tramp is half Beagle. He doesn't look like the rest. Only ten crossbreeds around now. But those numbers are growing. Perfect camouflage, ya know. Besides, Buster thinks you two need looking after." Mulder broke eye contact with the Dog to look at Harry. "So now you're taking advice from a Dog?" "When it's good advice. Don't look at me, I'm not the one who needed one of these too smart fleabags to wake me up and see what was in front of me all along. You ask me you should be namin' that kid o' yours after Buster. If it weren't for him..." "Ha, ha." Mulder absently reached down to stroke Tramp's squarish head as he looked at the ransom note again. What was it? Something about it was just off, somehow. His gut told him as much. Now his brain had to figure out what it was. ##### Scully sat beside Nora Hyatt. The woman summoned up a weak smile. "I'm so sorry they dragged you out here. They shouldn't have. When are you due?" "December twenty first." Scully smiled, "And they couldn't keep me away. Mulder's very good at this sort of thing. If anyone can find your children..." "I know. But what if they can't?" Nora looked away from Scully and out the window. Outside the snow was falling again. "If I lose them... how am I supposed to cope? I'm not doing well now. I don't know if they're hurt, or hungry or warm... It's eating me alive." Scully looked away as well. Not sure what to say. Her eyes fell on Hope who was playing with a beautiful blonde toddler. Her hand went to her own distended stomach. What could she say? How could any mother cope? Chapter 7 - Paws for effect ----------------- Ron Phillips scanned the roads for signs of recent passage. This area was pretty remote, and not much plowing had been done. Just the main routes. Slappy sat with her nose pressed against the passenger window, the condensation from his breath misting the glass. Just about ready to turn back Slappy let out a soft whuff, to get Ron's attention. To the left was a service road. The fresh snow had softened the ruts of the tire tracks, but hadn't yet obliterated them. "Good work." Ron gave his friend a half smile and turned onto the tricky road. Even the four wheel drive was a bit hard put to keep the vehicle under control. Ron kept his speed at something near a slow crawl and his eyes on the indentations of the tire tracks. About ten miles in he hit paydirt. He stopped the car and peered through the lightly falling snow. A cabin was up ahead, lights on inside. In front of the cabin, topped with snow, sat a light blue Aerostar. "Paydirt." He opened the door for Slappy and watched as the Dog slunk out into the cold. Approaching carefully he crept closer to the van. Inside the car Ron was already dialing his borrowed cell phone. It was picked up on the first ring. "It's Ron, I think I might have something. Slappy went to check it out. Off of Conifer Road there is a service road on the left... about five miles past the Ranger station. Ten miles up that road is a log cabin. There's a blue van. Ford Aerostar. Can't make out the plates from here. I'm sure Slappy will get that." "Ron, I could kiss you." Travis' voice echoed over the line. "I'd prefer it if you didn't." Ron grinned. Slappy jumped back in the car and Ron reached across him to pull the door closed. "Well?" One woof. Plain and simple. It was enough. ##### Mulder bent over the map next to Travis. "Ranger station is here meaning the road in question is.... here. There's nothing on the map. Great." Travis scowled. "How do you want to do this? They may not have the kids there." Mulder was pulling at his bottom lip. "And if they do they'll use them as hostages. Good point. OK first we send in a recon team. Someone these guys would have no reason to suspect. With them we send one or two Dogs to sniff around the premises. They drop off the Dogs here." He pointed to a spot a quarter mile from the cabin's reported site. "How about a couple in need of a tow in bad weather? A man and his really pregnant wife?" Scully smiled wickedly and patted her belly. "No. No way." Mulder shook his head. "Mulder, this is the perfect job for me. I want to help. Look, these people may recognize anyone from this group, except us. We weren't here when they were looking the place over. We've never been near the Hyatts before. And no one would suspect me, this big, to pose any kind of threat at all. You'll be there as backup. No problem." Scully crossed her arms. "We can take... Buster and Tramp. Get to the drop off point and pull the plugs on the car and have someone here on standby with a tow truck. We march to the cabin, ask to use their phone to get a tow while casually mentioning that we told some friends we were gonna check out that part of the mountain, so they know people know where we are. How can they refuse without looking suspicious themselves?" Mulder continued to shake his head. "Actually that sounds like a damn good idea." Travis put in. "I don't want you anywhere near these people, Scully." Mulder met her challenging gaze. "Try and stop me. It's either the two of us together or I go on my own. I will not be coddled, Mulder. This is one of the few things I can do here. When you call in the information have a car there to bring me back here. I'll skip any assault you may have planned. I promise." "Anyone got the number for the nearest hospital?" Hope chimed in. "I mean if you people are gonna do this... even if you get the kids out and all is well with the world, someone might need medical attention. Just consider it an afterthought." "What?" Mulder frowned. Afterthought. The word stuck in his mind. "That's it!" He snatched up the ransom note. "The demand for the puppies... it's an afterthought. Not the goal. Just thrown in at the last moment. Anyone knowing what these Dogs were would realize their value was a lot higher than the five million in cash they're asking. So why tack this demand on last. Out of context with the other thoughts?" "What're you getting at Mulder?" Nora looked puzzled then brightened. "They don't know about the Dogs at all." "Right." Mulder smiled at her. "But they claim they do. Why make such a claim if they haven't an idea?" Stephanie asked as her eyes darted, for the hundredth time that day, to Jonathan. The boy was curled up in a corner of the couch, Gadget at his feet. "Look at yourselves from an outsiders point of view." Mulder tried to explain. He noticed Travis and Nora shiver and winced at his own choice of words. "Sorry... But step back. You have no clue about the Dogs, but you see you and everyone you know with these show quality pure bred animals." Mulder met each pair of eyes as everyone focused on him. "Puppy mill. If all your friends have dogs, how much must you be raking in under the table on puppy sales? A quick check with the AKC will show you aren't certified and not paying taxes on such an operation. That's what they THINK they know." "But how can you be sure?" Kelly Phillips challenged. "I mean we're talking lives at stake here." "Because I used to do this for a living. I'm telling you. These people have no idea what the Dogs really represent. THAT'S why they killed Daisy. They weren't looking at her as anything but an ordinary dog." ##### James cursed as the ragged metal grated against his wrist once more. Jagged tremors of pain raced up his arm, and he knew he was bleeding, he could feel the wetness. At first warm, but quickly cooling. Unwilling to give up he tried again. Slowly sawing his way through the plastic wrist cuffs. It was taking forever, and in the process he just knew he's actually tightened the darn things because his fingers were going numb. There had been no sign of Daisy since he had started. He didn't want to think about that. It was scary and depressing and he wanted to believe it was real but what if hewasgoingcrazy? He gritted his teeth. No. Don't think of that. Just work these cuffs off. It seemed to take forever. Every time the plate skitted and he abraided his wrist again he'd look over at Della. She sat there, her knees drawn up in an attempt to preserve body heat. Her eyes closed, she was shaking all over. A few minutes more and he felt the snap. His arms were free. He brought them around and sobbed as seeing the blood and cuts made them hurt worse. The cuffs were still around his wrists though, still too tight. He couldn't feel his fingers. With his teeth he worried the plastic clasp over the smooth portion of plastic and down over the raggedly stretched and cut end. Blood rushed to that hand, and burned him. Fire. The cold and lack of circulation had numbed the nerves, but the warm rush of life regained the feeling, and those nerves celebrated by telling his brain his hand was on fire. He whimpered. Della was looking over at him now, her eyes huge, but filled with hope. With that as his drive he worked the other side free, allowing his left hand the same agonizing freedom as his right. Unable to stop, fearing the return of the bad men, he turned his cramped fingers to the rope tied around his legs. What had seemed easy enough in theory two days ago was now a Herculean task. His shoulders began to inform him they'd been held at an odd angle for two days. His wrists and fingers hurt so much he had a terrible time feeling the rope. It was at least an hour before he was completely free. Any time now the bad men might return, to take them into the little bathroom and stand over them and watch as they did their business. They came twice a day, and that was all. Which was fine, as niether he nor Della had eaten anything. They had, however, broken down and lapped up the water from the bowl, hands behind their backs. Della had cried as she did it. James just knew she cried away at least as much as she drank. He hated the bad men. Della's bonds took less time. He was able to more easily wield the warped metal plate, and by the time he got to Della's feet his hands were only throbbing dully. His sister bit her lip as she tried to rotate her shoulders. "Now what?" She looked at him with complete faith. She fully expected him to know what to do next. Something scratched at the door to the outside. James looked, but saw nothing. Daisy? Did it matter anymore? "Now, we get out of here. We're gonna have to go slow and brush away our tracks for a while." "I want Mommy." Della began to cry again, and James held her. "I do too. I bet mom and dad are worried sick. But we can't count on them knowing where to look. We have to try and find them. We gotta go." Della nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Ok." The door was locked. The hinges, however, were on the inside. James used the plate to get under the hinge pins and pry them up and out. The door fell a little as he pulled it back, hinged now by the padlock holding the other side. The snow was still falling, and the cold was dangerous. James knew that, but to stay here was not an option. The going was slow. ##### Mulder hated this. He glanced to the side briefly. Scully was wrapped in a big gray coat and a blanket. Buster and Tramp sat behind them in the back seat of the borrowed Jeep. Mulder's cell phone was hidden in the back, under the seat. They weren't to use it except in an emergency. The plan was to call from the cabin. The tow truck was right behind them and would park at the intersection. When they called in it would be to Steven Wu, who was driving the truck. He'd call and relay the news to Travis and his group. If Mulder called and asked for a tow because he thought there was trouble with the battery, then he had reason to suspect the children were in the cabin or close by. If he claimed the transmission was shot then they had found no sign of the kids. And lastly, if he claimed to have run out of gas, then they were on the wrong track and Tribble had misidentified the van, which was unlikely. Behind the tow truck were four more vehicles. Travis and Nora rode in one. Both armed to the teeth. Nora would not wait quietly while others tried to save her children. Mulder admired that. Behind them was Ron Phillips and Rob Roberts with their Dogs. The next Car held Sheryl Martin, Lioness Smythe and Deb Prewitt with their own companions. Deb was there as an emergency physician. Scully wasn't going to stay, and Deb, as a veterinarian, was the closest they had to medical personnel. Mulder knew the guns all of them carried were unlicensed, untraceable. He didn't know why that fact didn't bother him. He was supposed to be a federal agent after all. The last car in the line held Mary McKibben and Hope. They would be taking Scully back to the chalet as soon as the scouting mission was done. They would be out of there before the other cars even turned down the road. Everything had been planned very carefully. Mulder wore his sig in it's ankle holster and Scully had her own weapon well hidden. She'd laughed as she wrapped a belt around herself and under her stomach. Her pregnancy would actually conceal the gun. Mulder felt his palms sweat at the very idea that it was there, that she was insisting on doing this. The thought of her needing to use the precaution was not to be borne. "Ready?" They had come to the intersection. "Yep. I miss this." She smiled. She was nervous too, but hiding it well. Two separate woofs from the back was all Mulder needed as he turned onto the road Ron had found. The other cars had all pulled off the main road and sat, waiting. It was all up to them now. As the Jeep inched through the treacherous snow Mulder suddenly felt as if they'd been cut off. They were on their own. Chapter 8 - Wagging a tail. ----------------- Scully kept her gloved hands tucked under her armpits as she watched Buster and Tramp disappear into the trees. The two Dogs were heading for the same destination, but their investigation would be done outside, by scent and cunning. The Dogs had the easier job, truth be told. Mulder finished working the spark plugs loose and slammed the hood of the car down. He met her eyes. His concerns went unvoiced, but communicated nonetheless. If the people in the cabin caught onto them escape was gonna be tricky. He'd just sabotaged their escape vehicle. Scully felt a knot of anxiety clench around her stomach, actually pulling her muscles with its ferocity. However, she put on her brave face and smiled encouragement. "Lead on, McDuff. You can be my trail breaker." Mulder snorted. "Is that all I'm good for? Tromping a path through the snow?" "Not at all, you're one hell of a cook. It's the only reason I haven't dumped you and run off with Skinner." "And with that mental image I will now hurl my lunch." Mulder kept his steps closer together than usual as he pushed through the snow. It was about two feet deep. 'Shit,' he thought to himself, 'it's almost to her knees. We have a half mile of this crap. She shouldn't be out here. If anything happens to her...' "What's so bad about that mental image? I mean, Skinner's a mighty fine looking man, Mulder. Tall, muscular, imposing. If you were to drop dead I'd mourn you a month before this widow'd make the moves on her boss." "God, Scully! You really know how to boost a guy's ego." He looked back to see her struggling right on his heels. His trail breaking efforts barely putting any real dent in the snow for her. "I'm not gonna be able to attend another meeting without wanting to punch his lights out, now. Ya know that, don't ya?" "Relax. I like hair to run my fingers through. Besides, I doubt he can cook." Scully chuckled from behind. "And you ever notice his jaw doesn't move? I'm beginning to suspect it's wired shut." As they went they grew quiet. The banter stopped. They needed the energy for the slow, trudging progress they made. "Tell me again why we couldn't drive a little closer?" Scully's breath was coming in gasps now and Mulder stopped to give her a rest. "If they investigate too closely it will look suspicious. We can rest here..." "No." She gave him a shove. "I want to get there and into some semblance of warmth." Scully bit the inside of her cheek as her back and lower abdomen tightened in protest of the exercise. ##### The paw prints in the snow pointed the way. James had been convinced the bad men would show up as he and Della walked backwards. Using branches from a dead tree found nearby they did their best to fill in their tracks as they went. The falling snow covered the brushed looking patches. Both of them were tired and hungry. They felt their arms scream in protest as they worked. But fear motivated them. Fear and hope. Home. They were going home. When they were far enough from the storage shed they'd escaped James called a halt and tossed their branches into the forest. "If they find us this far away then nothing we do is gonna help. Take a break, then we'll get moving again." James fell to the ground. Della sunk into the snow, her back braced against a tree. She had not stopped shaking. Indeed, out here, in the snow she was worse. Their gloves had been confiscated to accommodate their handcuffs. So now Della tried to stave off frostbite by pulling her arms into her coat and hugging herself. "I'm so tired, Jimmy. I'm gonna take a nap..." "NO!" Jimmy struggled to his feet and caught his sister's shoulders, pulling her back up. "Bad idea. No sleeping. We have to stay awake. Moving will warm us up." "Where's Daisy?" Della blearily scanned the forest. Jimmy wasn't sure if he was right in the head or not, but Daisy's spirit had been leading them so far. "We can't see her, remember? Must be in the ghost rule book. Remember in Beetlejuice? They got all these rules to follow." Jimmy pointed to the trail ahead of them. Paw prints in the snow. Part of him realized the tracks weren't as deep as they should have been. "See, she's leading us as best she can. Come on, Della. I bet when we get back Mom'll have hot chocolate... and warm beds for us." "How far. Jimmy?" Della moved as he pushed her, but her steps were flagging. "Not too far. It can't be too far." ##### The cabin was exactly where it was supposed to be. Scully looked wistfully at the well lighted windows. Mulder had taken her arm for the last few hundred yards to help her. She didn't look at the anger and fear in his face. He was pissed that she'd insisted on doing this, and the fear, though hidden, would lurk in the back of his eyes. He was an expert at worrying about her. A fussy mother hen. "I'm fine, Mulder." She managed to pull her arm from him gently and make it the last few feet on her own. The porch hadn't been swept, so it was almost as snow covered as the path they'd taken. Scully glanced at the snow blanketed van. Scratch marks marred the side sliding door. Daisy's scratch marks. Moments before she was killed, she'd been clawing at that vehicle, trying to get at whoever was inside. Most likely one, or both of the children. The sound of Mulder knocking on the door pulled her attention back to the task at hand. There was no answer. Mulder pounded harder. The door swung open to reveal a shotgun, with a man standing behind it. "This is private property." Mulder had affixed his best ingratiating grin. "We're sorry to intrude, but our car broke down about a half mile down the road. Could we use your phone to call for a tow?" Mulder reached out to pull Scully a bit closer. "And if it's not too much trouble, Cathy needs to get out of this cold." Scully almost kicked him for laying it on so thick, but, too late to change it, she ran her hand over her stomach, making her condition obvious to the first blind guy going by on a horse. Shotgun's eyes narrowed. "We ain't the park rangers." "I know that, sir. But... Jesus, look, it's freezing out here," Mulder went from polite and nervous to indignant, "we're in a bit of trouble and Cathy's eight months along. I doubt we can rob you blind, even if we wanted to, no getaway car. We have some friends who know we were gonna be exploring up this way and we don't want them to worry when we don't get back on time. We just need to call a tow and arrange for a ride back, that's all." Shotgun scowled again and Scully was sure they'd failed. This jerk was gonna send them packing. Which, in itself would confirm the kids were here. He seemed to mull it over. Most likely trying to gauge which move would be least suspicious. He opened the door a bit more. "Phone's right over there." Scully smiled gratefully at the man and walked in. Time to beard the lion in his den. ##### Tramp and Buster watched their friends walk into the cabin and the door shut behind them. Both Dogs suppressed identical shivers. No time to worry. They had work to do. Buster moved to sniff around the garbage cans in the back as Tramp went to the woodshed. Their noses were familiar with the scent of both children. If they were here, the two Dogs were confident they'd find them. Buster felt his heart chill as deeply as the snow around him as he caught the faint scent of both children. Coming from the trash can. No... please no. He sneezed to get Tramp's attention. Both Dogs worked the snow heavy lid off with their noses. Inside was a sealed garbage bag. Buster almost fainted with relief. The scent was still too faint. It wasn't a body. So what was it? Sharp teeth made short work of winter brittle plastic. Gloves. Two pair. Children's gloves. A growl rose in the back of Buster's throat. ##### The cabin was far from clean, although it had once been professionally decorated. Scully let her gaze wander, looking for any sign that the children were here. Shotgun gave her the creeps. "What's goin' on, Hank?" A younger man hobbled out of the kitchen area. He held a sandwich in one hand and a beer in the other. His limp was pronounced. Scully recalled Sheryl's description of blood and signs of a struggle. Daisy had gotten one. Good girl, she mentally added. "Couple here broke down some ways back. Needed to call a tow." Scully watched the glare, the threatening stance shotgun assumed. Mulder didn't miss it either as he picked up the phone. When two people worked together on a crime there was always a dominant and a submissive. The one in control and the obedient servant. He just found out where things stood in this scenario. Hank there was the leader. He dialed Stephen Wu's cell phone. "Yeah, this is David Saks, my car broke down on this unmarked road off the main, 'bout a mile past the ranger station heading east. I... I think the transmission's shot." No sign of the kids. The men weren't nervous enough to have them stashed within the cabin. "Yeah, I have Triple A. How soon can you have someone out here? Us... a cabin 'bout a half mile from the car. The folks here were very nice and let us use their phone." Mulder smiled at Hank. "OK, we'll head back to the car in a few. Thanks." "They said they have a truck out this direction already it could be anywhere from fifteen minutes to a half hour." Mulder reported. "It's comin' down pretty hard. You two're lucky you didn't freeze to death gettin' here." Sandwich Man took a swig from his beer. "Just as bad in the car without the heater." Scully lowered herself to the couch, a bit awkwardly. She winced as another clenching took her. Oh... shit... Her eyes darted to Mulder as he surveyed the room. Thank God, he hadn't noticed. He'd get all flustered and drop the ball. It was most likely another bout of false labor pains. She'd had them last month and her ObGyn told her it was normal. "You two up here skiing or do you live here?" Scully asked, trying to draw them out a bit. "Skiing." Sandwich Man answered. "I fell the other day." He indicated his bad leg. Yeah, you fell when a hundred pounds of enraged Retriever clamped onto your leg, Scully forced herself not to scowl. "You're lucky you didn't break it. I had a friend of mine take a spill skiing round here last year. Broke her leg and her arm." Mulder began to pace around the room. Hank's eyes never left him. "You got a real nice cabin here. Better than the place we got. Course, I could never afford something like this for a weekend." Mulder waved his hand to encompass the cabin. "What do you do for a living?" "We play the market." Hank grinned without humor. "You?" "Construction." Mulder stomped hard on the floor. "It's how I could tell you got a real nice place. Not just second rate materials covered up to look nice." Mulder looked at Scully. The floor was solid, and the sound it made didn't coincide with the hollowness of a cellar. Most likely only one or two feet under it to the ground. The kids COULD be stashed there, but if they were alive and able, they'd have hears them arrive and made some sort of noise by now. Mulder resumed pacing. He casually looked into the kitchen. There was one back door. One window. Four windows and the main entrance in the living room. He mentally constructed a blueprint. It would help Travis plan the assault. "This yer first?" Hank nodded to Scully. "Yeah. Kinda nervous about it, ya know." Mulder winked. "Lots of responsibility. But it'll be worth it. Nothing's as precious as your kids, right?" Hank nodded. "Right. Nothing at all." Mulder checked his watch. "Well, thanks for the hospitality. We should get going, though. The truck will be getting there any time now." Scully stood and nodded, pulling on her coat. "Careful of the weather next time you drive. Safer getting stuck on a warm Miami beach." Hank opened the front door quickly. "You're right. But somethin' tells me it'll be a while before our next vacation." Scully pulled her knit cap down over her ears. Before they hit the end of the porch the door closed behind them. Mulder linked his arm in hers as they began to follow their own tracks back. The snowfall had already reduced their trail to a gentle indentation. When they were far enough away Scully spoke up. "Nice of them to offer us a ride." "They couldn't get rid of us fast enough, Scully. But it was general annoyance, not panic. The kids aren't there." "So... where are they?" "I wish I knew. Maybe Buster and Tramp came up with something." * Stephen wasn't the only one waiting for them at their car. Buster and Tramp were typing on laptops as Mulder and Scully approached. Mary saw them round the far curve in the road and drove to them, slowly. "Get in, it's warmer." They gave no argument. Hope moved over in the back to make room for Mulder. "So?" Hope glared at Mulder, "Didja get anything?" Mulder filled them in as he warmed up. Then he opened the car door. "Ms. McKibben, take them back please. And be careful." Mary nodded. "I will. I grew up round here, Mr. Mulder. I can handle this. Heck, this is just some flurries." Mulder watched the car drive slowly away before he joined the group huddled around the hood of the Hyatt's car. Mulder helped draw a schematic of the cabin and told them what he and Scully had seen and observed. Tramp had brought the gloves back with him. There was no doubt that these were the kidnappers. Legally they should go to the police now. Mulder was certain the assholes didn't know about the Dogs, but their suspicions could turn some pretty close scrutiny on the Family. That could alert the consortium and other interested parties to the Dogs. That had to be avoided if at all possible. Mulder wondered, however, just how far he was willing to go. How far any of the people surrounding the Hyatt's car were prepared to go. He looked up into the eyes of Travis Hyatt and got his answer. God help them all. The snow began to fall harder. ##### "Jimmy, I can't." Della stumbled again and struggled to regain her feet. "Come ON, Della. If we stay out here we're gonna die." James Hyatt couldn't afford to sugar coat it now. "Go ahead, send Daddy back for me." Della sobbed. She couldn't feel her fingers, ears or nose anymore. What she could feel was her legs, arms and shoulders, and they were a mass of pain. "I'm not gonna leave you." Jimmy tried to pick her up, but he was too weak and she was only a little smaller than he was. "DAISY!" The wind howled through the trees, blowing the falling snow at them like tiny daggers of ice. Then she was there. Jimmy felt warm breath on his face. "We gotta find shelter, girl. Della can't make it." There was a soft whine, torn away by the wind. "What are we gonna do, girl?" Jimmy felt a tug at his arm. "We can't go much further." The tug became more insistent and for a moment, just a moment, Jimmy thought he saw Daisy there. ##### Mary cursed and slowed a bit more. They were at ten miles an hour now, and they had about ten miles to go before they hit the chalet. Scully gripped the door handle and gritted her teeth. "Um... Mary, how much further is it to the nearest hospital?" "Oh shit... please tell me you're joking, Dana. You ARE joking, aren't you?" Hope gripped Scully's shoulder. "No. I thought it was false labor, but it's been going on for about... two hours now." "Oh God, ohgodohgodohgod..." Mary muttered as she drove. "The nearest hospital is thirty miles from the chalets. I don't think we can make it in this. Agent Scully, this is a pretty bad one." "Damn." Scully bit her lip. "Let's get to the chalet. Maybe an ambulance can make it through." Hope wanted to cry when she saw the look in Mary's eyes in the rearview mirror. No ambulance was gonna make it in this. Visibility was almost nil. Chapter 9 - Three dog night. ---------------- Mulder hunched over in the snow next to Tramp. To his left Sheryl and Lioness also crouched with their Companions, hidden in the trees. To his right, Ron and Rob and their Dogs. Travis, Nora and Steven were around back with Buster and Steven's Psylocke. The cabin was in sight. He had a beeper at his hip, set to vibrate. When Travis used his cell phone to connect with the beeper they were to move in. Mulder peeled off his gloves and balanced the small Glok he'd been given. Travis insisted he not use his own gun, but an sterilized weapon from the Family's stash. How far beyond the law had he gone already? Mulder shifted his attention from the gun to the cabin. How far was too far? In a firefight he could shoot with no problem. The him or me effect. Protect your team. But if they captured these assholes, could he stand back and allow murder? Torture? The world hadn't been black and white for him in a very long time, but now the shades of gray were becoming less and less distinguishable from one another. ##### Travis felt his palms sweat against the binoculars, despite the cold air. He checked every available window. There was movement in the kitchen area for a few minutes. Steven Wu snuck up beside him. "We may have trouble." Travis lowered the binoculars and looked at his friend. "What kind of trouble?" "Set of tracks, pretty much covered, leading from the back of the cabin into the woods or back. Can't tell. Too much snowfall since they were made. So we either have three people now in the cabin or one's already gotten away." "Fuck." Travis met Nora's eyes. "If someone left..." "We do it now. If we wait then we could put James and Della in more danger." Nora's eyes were fearful, but determined. Her voice, however, was strong and sure. "Steve, get Sheryl and Wookie to follow those tracks. Wookie's got the best nose." Travis made the decision quickly. Steven nodded and loped off to the side. ##### Mulder saw someone move in on Sheryl. The someone had a Dog at his side and the two conversed quickly before Sheryl and Wookie tore off through the snow, circling the house. He didn't have time to wonder what was up for long. He had managed to sneak in right under the side window as his beeper vibrated. In the chaos that followed he had no time at all to think beyond the moment. ##### The moment the van stopped before the warm and welcoming chalet Hope felt relief flood through her, only to have the blessed feeling snatched away at the sound of Scully's moan. Hope got out and was at the passenger side door in two seconds flat. "Hold on, Dana, just a bit further." She helped Scully out of the seat. As soon as Dana's small feet hit the snow and she stood upright there was a rush of bloody fluid. Scully cried out and Hope grabbed her and held her up with all her might. "HELP!" She called to the house even as Mary grabbed Scully's other side. "WE NEED HELP OUT HERE!" They were surrounded by a swarm of people in moments. ##### The children were kept occupied in the living room with Disney tapes as Mary and Hope set to work around Scully. A layer of garbage bags had been applied to the bed then a layer of fresh bedding. Scully worked on her Lamaze breathing as Hope and Mary stripped her down and slipped a cotton nightgown over her head. When the latest contraction faded Hope sat beside Scully. "You have rotten timing, Dana." "I don't, HE does. He's already his daddy through and through." Scully managed to look composed somehow. As if she were not about to give birth in a ski chalet miles from a hospital in a terrible snow storm. Mary was probing the solid girth of Scully's stomach before looking at Hope, her eyes worried. "What?" Hope couldn't take much more of this. "How much OBGYN or neonatal training have you had?" Mary tried to smile, and failed. "I've seen a birth while doing an ER rotation. But I'm only third year pre-med. I know the book work, and the basics but beyond that..." Hope felt the blood leave her face. "You're going to learn fast." Mary met Dana's eyes. "Dana, I'm a vet. I've only worked with animals, but I've delivered lots of babies. That's the GOOD news. The bad news is... Your water's broken and this little one still hasn't turned. Now, we are going to try every trick I know to get this baby to turn on his own. But if he doesn't..." "He's going to be breech." Dana's hand gripped Hope's so tightly the young woman lost feeling in the fingertips. "Only if we can't get him to turn. I've delivered a breech foal once. No problems." The vet managed a smile at that. "Great. Just remember I'm not a horse, please." ##### Glass shattered. The sound of splintering wood and snarling Dogs. The people going in were those who had training in combat and fighting. Meaning Mulder got the dubious honor of going through the front door while Travis kicked in the back. Mulder crouched near the front door and nodded to Lioness, who was to cover the plate glass window and make sure no one escaped through it. She nodded back, her face a mask of grim determination. Mulder felt the vibration at his hip and he stood. His booted foot connected with solid wood. The impact jarred up his leg and rattled his hip as the door flew inward. He crouched quickly and held his gun before him, his eyes sweeping the room even with the targeting sight of the Glock. A man's back as he headed for the rear of the house presented a perfect target. "Freeze!" Mulder spoke the word, knowing it wasn't going to work. The man spun, a rifle in his hands. He brought the gun up, firing without aiming. Mulder counted his blessings as the wood of the door he'd just kicked in erupted and splinters flew even as he dove behind the couch. Another gunshot rang through the air and Mulder readied to fire around the couch, only to find there was no need. The rifleman was down, his shoulder bleeding. He was reaching for his fallen weapon with his good arm. Mulder sprang forward and kicked the rifle clear, training his Glock in the man's face. It was the limping sandwich man from earlier. Travis nodded to Mulder and moved off to sweep the rest of the house. "Where's your buddy?" Mulder looked back down to see the man was staring intently into the barrel of the pistol. "He... he... he went for a walk, man. He shot me. That guy shot me." His eyes were wide with disbelief and pain. Had he thought himself immune to bullets? His leg should have taught him he was as vulnerable as anyone else. "He's gonna do more then shoot you if..." Mulder was interrupted as the others entered the house. "Clear. Where's your partner?" Travis' voice hard and tight. The dominant was missing. Shit. Mulder moved back so Lioness and Rob could haul the downed man to his feet then throw him into a chair. Nora handcuffed him, her eyes gone cold with determination "Mulder, would you mind following after Sheryl and Wookie? They were trailing the tracks leading from this place." Travis leaned against Sandwich Man's chair, coldly, casually. "This gentleman was just going to tell us where James and Della are." "Fuck you." Sandwich Man had limited intelligence as well as a limited vocabulary. "Wrong answer, bright boy." Travis swung and punched him. Hard. In the gunshot wound. He screamed. Mulder turned away. This he couldn't watch. He understood it. God help him, he did. If it were Hope and the baby... but he still had a lingering thread of his own integrity. He couldn't sit back and watch. He welcomed the out. "Sure. Tramp, wanna go for a walk?" Mulder looked down at the mutt. The Dog sneezed and nuzzled his leg. ##### "Della?" James shook his sister. She was curled up in a ball, sound asleep. It was warm here. Amazingly warm. And they were both sooo tired. He couldn't feel the pain in his wrists any more. That was good. He looked out the small fissure that was the mouth of this little cave. The snow continued to fall softly, it even made a sift whispering noise. It was sooo pretty. He lay down and curled around Della, to keep her warm. He felt Daisy. She permeated this little hidey hole with her warmth. She's such a good dog. Chapter 10 - Bite is worse then the bark. ------------------ Sheryl followed Wookie. The Dog's muzzle pushed snow before him as he followed the tracks. His tail was down and his ears back, illustrating the seriousness of his position. They had gone at least a mile when the little shelter came into view. It looked like a ranger's station or an emergency stop. Sheryl scowled. The tracks seemed to lead to it. "Wook, cover me." She approached as quietly as she could through the snow. She pushed the slightly open door with her gun. The hand came from nowhere. It wrapped around her wrist and pulled her in. A rapid succession of two gunshots filled the quiet of the woods. ##### Mulder heard the distant shots, but in the open, with mountains on all sides to bounce sound around he had no idea where it had come from. Tramp barked once then took off at a run. The trail cut by Sheryl and Wookie they had been following made the going a bit easier. Mulder ran as quickly as he could, barely keeping the dark brown coat of the Mutt in his sight. In minutes they were facing a small wooden building. Wookie was growling at the building, limping around. The Dog's blood was bright on the snow. A furrow ran down his side. Tramp paused to sniff the other Dog's wound. "Sheryl?" Mulder called out. That she was not visible and her Dog was injured spelled trouble. "Cornell?" It was a man's voice that answered. Mulder could see Sheryl's prints leading to the door. The man was calling from inside. Mulder went into a crouch and tried to see any sign of windows or a peephole. "I can see you, Cornell." The voice was taunting. At this distance, with their many similarities, Hank had mistaken him for Travis. "Hank. We have your brother. Where's Sheryl? You can still walk away from this alive, you know." Mulder motioned for Tramp to circle the shack. Hopefully the Dog would know to look for an opening, a window, something. Wookie kept low and moved close to Mulder, whining low in his throat. Tramp disappeared around the side of the building. "She's alive." Mulder heard the woman yelp from inside. "He's got a sawed off winchester..." Sheryl yelled out, her words cut off abruptly. "Shut up, bitch, or I'll blow your guts around this room." Mulder gripped his gun tighter. ##### "I wanna push." Hope lost feeling in her fingertips as Scully gripped her hand. "Not yet, Dana. He hasn't turned." Mary was pushing on a spot between Scully's first and second toe. Dana's foot looked small in the other woman's hands. Having tried nudging on Dana's distended stomach to force the baby to turn Mary had switched to acupressure. Dana was not convinced it would work but at this point she'd try anything. The next step was the one she was NOT looking forward to. Dana breathed in short, sharp pants. The breaths designed to not allow her to push. Hope brushed a lock of damp red hair from her stepmother's pale face with a weak smile. She was amazed at Dana's fortitude. She hadn't screamed once. Hadn't even raised her voice, even though she was obviously in pain. Pain they had no hope of relieving. Hope gently touched the bulge that contained her little brother. >Come on.< She silently willed, thinking that if there was any chance her father might be right about psychic communication the force of her will would drive this into the infant mind separated from her by flesh and muscle.>Come on, little brother. You don't want to start life off by getting your mom pissed. Trust me, she's impossible when she's pissed. Just turn around and make this easier on both of you.< Dana's breathing regulated and her grip relaxed, signaling the passing of the latest contraction. Hope looked worriedly at Mary. The vet wouldn't meet her eyes. Not a good sign. "Has anyone heard from the others yet?" Mary shook her head. No phone calls, nothing. Everyone both in this room and in the main part of the chalet were on edge. Too much was happening, and there wasn't a damn thing anyone here could do about it. A reddish, furry head popped in the door of the bedroom come delivery room. "Out!" Mary pointed, her finger at her own Companion. "The last thing Dana needs right now is dog hair all over. Piper, tell them nothing's changed. Please, just keep the canine half of this family out of here." The Dog nodded his head once and backed through the door. "He's only worried." Hope defended him, still partly in awe of the miracle of the Dogs. "I know, but this room is far from sanitary as it is, we don't need them adding to it." Mary's voice softened. She was obviously worried as well. She had two lives in her hands, not much in the way of equipment and just about all that could go wrong crashing down on her. "So, Dana," Hope started with forced cheeriness, "you never did tell me if you decided on a name? Here my baby brother is almost out in the world and I have no idea what I'm gonna be calling him. Fox Junior?" Dana's smile was weak, but genuine. ##### Sheryl refused to touch the pulsing pain in her jaw. She wouldn't give the asshole the satisfaction of showing her pain, beyond to spit the blood from her mouth. She glanced around, looking for something, anything to give her an advantage. Then she saw it. Frozen blood. Not hers. On the floor next to the remains of plastic ties. Modern, disposable handcuffs. Shit. Were the kids even still alive? The guy before her was all joe cool. His long brown hair was a bit wild, his square jaw was set in a teeth clenching grin. His deepset eyes were... inhuman. He actually looked like he was enjoying this idiotic standoff. The bore hole of the gun facing her stretched to about the size of a canon ball as she realized he wouldn't hesitate to shoot. He might actually get off on it. This had to be diffused quickly as she really did like all her internal organs exactly where they were right now. It'd be a pity to go rearranging them when they worked perfectly well, right down to the bladder that was threatening to humiliate her any moment now, as that bore hole seemed to grow bigger. When her chance came she was gonna have to move damned fast. The asshole's gun never wavered as a scraping sound came from the roof. He looked quickly out the crack in the door, to see the man still crouched in the snow. So who was on the roof? Sheryl looked up. Wookie? If the guy would just try shooting at the roof she might be able to rush him while the gun was aimed elsewhere. No such luck. Even as her eyes started to return to her captor Sheryl realized she had missed her chance, even as the but of the gun filled her vision and the explosion of pain filled her skull. She crumpled to the floor, still. ##### Mulder watched Tramp circle the small shed-like shelter. His eyes grew wide as, a few minutes later, he saw the animal's chocolate colored form begin to appear on the roof, right next to the chimney. How the hell... He'd worry about that later, but there was just no way the dog would fit down the metal chimney shaft. He could tell from here. Tramp disappeared from view an reappeared running across the snow. He skidded to a stop before Mulder and Wookie. The Dog had a dried out tree branch in it's mouth. A woodpile, Mulder realized. There was a woodpile in back high enough for Tramp to scramble up and get to the roof. So how did that help? Tramp dropped the branch and looked at him, his squarish head cocked to the side. The Dog's too intelligent dark eyes seemed to be questioning him. What? Wookie whimpered and looked up at him, too. Great. He'd finally gone to the dogs. Ok, how could the tree branch be used as a distraction? Drop it down the chimney? Fine, if the flue was open. Did those old metal stacks have a flue? Mulder had to admit that his chimney knowledge was rather limited. He began patting down his pockets. Travis had wanted to cover all bases. No one was to get lost or injured if he could help it. There was a small first aid kit in one of his parka's pockets, a compass and matches in another, and extra clips for his gun filled the rest. "Gimme that." Mulder held out his hand and Tramp retrieved the branch, plopping it into Mulder's waiting palm. Keeping low Mulder led the dogs around, out of the line of sight of the shelter's door, it's only apparent opening. "Cornell! If you run away I'll kill this bitch then slit your kids' throats. You just had to do this the hard way, didn't you?" The man inside was ranting. Delusional. Mulder pulled the palm sized first aid kit out and opened it, tearing open the five packets of gauze and tiny plastic bottle of rubbing alcohol. "Wait! Don't hurt them. I'm coming back. Slow and easy." He called out. Then he switched to a whisper. "Tramp, this is gonna have to be quick. Once I give this to you the alcohol and gauze are gonna go fast. Think you can drop it down that chimney?" The Dog looked at the shed, and at the stick before barking once and wagging his tail. Mulder wrapped one end of the branch in gauze and soaked it with the contents of the bottle before using a match to light it. He carefully handed it to the Dog who clamped his teeth around the end as far from the flames as he could. Then he was off. Mulder moved quickly back into the view of the door only this time a few feet closer then he had been. Deciding to play on the case of mistaken identity he called into the shed, "Can't we just make the deal and have this over with. You kill me and where are you gonna get your money?" "You got a wife. I'm sure she'd like her kids back, too. Now drop the gun!" Mulder saw Tramp crest the roof. The torch was dropping bits of burnt gauze. Mulder held the gun out. "Okay, Okay, don't do anything stupid!" "Ain't me who's been stupid, man. If you just did what you were told you'd be havin cocoa with your kids right now." The branch dropped down. "What the..." Mulder ran for the door in a crouch, he had only seconds. He flew through the door to see the man stomping out the burning branch turn on him, raising the shot gun toward his head. Oh shit... the thought flitted though his mind as he threw himself to the side and his ears rang with the sound of the blast. Fire ripped through his shoulder and bicep and he bit back a cry of pain. He rolled, as he landed, bringing up his gun. Another flash of pain as his gun hand was kicked to the side, the weapon skittering across the room, and he found himself looking into the barrel of the shotgun, the stink of hot metal and sulfur wafting in his face. "You ain't Cornell." The man holding the gun exclaimed in shock. Mulder, in that instant, wished he had told Scully how much he loved her more often. He wished he'd had more time to be with Hope, and tell her how much she'd come to mean to him. He wished with all his being he could be there to see and hold his son when he was born. So much he wanted to do. The sound of the gunshot was deafening. Chapter 11 - Going to the Dogs. ------------------- Hope was ready to cry. She tried to be strong, for Dana's sake, but her stomach had dropped to her toes every time she looked over at Mary. The baby had still not turned. Dana was expending a lot of energy on resisting the urge to push. She was becoming exhausted and she had not fully dilated yet. This wasn't supposed to happen. Dana was supposed to give birth in a nice clean hospital, surrounded by the best her science could offer to assure both her and the baby's health. She was supposed to have Mulder there, holding her hand, getting screamed at like a good husband should. Mary smiled at Dana and patted her leg. "It's going to be fine, Dana." Scully's eyes were full of mingled pain and fear, but both were overshadowed by determination. "Don't try to placate me, Mary. I know just how bad this is." Mary nodded, chagrined. "Give me a moment with Hope." Mary took Hope's arm and led her from the room. Outside the hall was filled with curious, tear stained faces. Worried eyes, both human and canine, focused on them. "Not yet, go busy yourselves." Mary shooed them before speaking to Hope. "Hope, you're thinner than I am, you have smaller hands and arms..." "OH NO." Hope shook her head. "You can't be thinking what I think you're thinking. Un-uh. No way." Mary's sad face transformed in an instant to a mask of anger. "Do you think I WANT to do this? Jesus, girl, this is the second to last thing I want to do. And if I tell you to do it, you WILL do it, for the sake of the woman in there and the baby she's trying to deliver. Once she's fully dilated, if that baby hasn't turned, we have no CHOICE. Now you are likely to cause less pain and damage than ME by virtue of size. Here is exactly what you are going to do..." In minutes Mary's voice echoed down the hall. "Nancy, Kristel!" Both women peered around the corner to see the Vet looking determined and Hope looking pasty and ready to faint. "I'm going to need hot water, as hot as you can stand putting your hand into, and that antibacterial soap. Go next door and get all the extra towels you can, what we have in there might not be enough." Both women looked from Mary to each other and nodded. "Anything else?" Nancy asked. "Prayer. Lots of it." Mary replied over her shoulder as she shoved Hope back into the bedroom. Piper and Mindy, Buster's mate, sat in the hall and whimpered piteously. Einstein limped over to them and sat beside them, the three Dogs leaning together. ##### Mulder was surprised to find he could open his eyes. He blinked once, just to be sure. If he was dead the afterlife was fucking COLD, and his arm and shoulder were thrumming with pain. Hell wasn't fire and brimstone, it was ice and pain. Something heavy was on top of him. "Thanks for the rescue." Mulder looked over to the corner the voice had come from. Sheryl Martin was glassy eyed, her face was covered with blood, and his gun was held limply in her hand. "I think it was mutual." He shoved against the weight across his middle. Hank rolled over, dead weight. Half his face was missing. "I hope his brother spilled where the kids are." Mulder pulled himself to his feet, feeling his arm flare into agony again. He didn't want to look, but he had to. It wasn't as bad as he thought. He was sure half his bicep was gone. But the blood soaked sleeve of his parka showed a dozen tiny pellet holes. He crossed to check on Sheryl. The blood was from a nasty gash across her hairline. "How many fingers am I holding up?" He made a V before the groggy woman. "Four. Aren't you glad I'm a good shot?" Her twisted grin reminded him of Jackie for a moment. Wookie and Tramp were sniffing at the body now. Wookie moved away from it to limp next to his companion and lay his head in her lap. Tramp took a moment to raise his leg in salute of the dead. "Mulder! Sheryl!" Travis' voice called through the silence. "In here!" Mulder answered. Travis and the others were soon crowding the tiny shelter, hands were everywhere, first aid kits were brought out and wounds were tended to briskly. "Is there any sign of the kids?" Nora's voice was frantic over the quiet murmuring of the rag tag band of people. Outside, the Dogs started barking. ##### The snow had ceased to fall. Canine noses rose and tasted the air. They smelled something. A sister, a cousin, an aunt. As one they tore off across the snowswept landscape, leaving the humans to follow behind. Impossible, not right. The logical, smart part of them were shaken by the scent. The baser, animal parts just accepted and followed. Tramp looked over his shoulder to see that the humans were, in fact, following. They were slower, but the Dogs were braking the trail. They ran as a pack for twenty minutes, barks, howls, whuffs, echoing through the trees. At last they stopped before a small rise in the snow. It was Buster who began to dig and paw at the snow. The others soon followed. In moments they had clawed an opening free. It was a small, narrow cave, and it smelled entirely of Daisy. The Dogs moved back as the humans arrived. People began crawling on the bellies as Travis scampered into the narrow depression. "It's them! They're alive!" The shout of joy filled the woods as Nora fell to her knees and began to weep with relief. ##### The small train of cars and four wheel drive vehicles pulled up to the lodge and were met by a rush of people. James and Della were not handed over, but carried inside by their parents. They were rushed to the bathroom where hot water was being drawn to try to stave off hypothermia. Neither child had been able to stop shaking since they were pulled from the cave. Yet the inside of their little hidy hole had been surprisingly warm. Kelly and Ron Phillips helped Sheryl inside, where people began to swarm over the impatient woman. It was Kristel and Nancy who intercepted the battered form of Fox Mulder, however. "The back bedroom, quickly." Nancy pulled on his good arm. "Wha..." "The baby's coming. We called an ambulance but with the storm... just GO." Mulder no longer felt the pain in his arm tuned with his heartbeat. He pushed his way through the throng to the back bedroom, where some worried faces still remained parked outside the door. He threw open the door to be confronted by the scene within. His wife lay propped up by a dozen pillows, the short, cotton nightgown she wore was plastered to her body and his heart dropped to his stomach as her heard her groan. Hope and Mary McKibben were perched at the bottom of the bed. All three looked up at him as he entered. "Mulder..." The sound of his name falling from his wife's lips would have been wonderful if it weren't so full of pain and fear. "I'm here." He reached out with his good hand and sat beside her on the bed, tangling his fingers with hers. "I'm right here." "Come on Dana, push. Not much longer now." Mary patted Scully's knee. Dana's face contorted and darkened as the cords in her neck stood out. Mulder felt her fingers wring the life out of his. Her stomach moved. Then it struck him, she was having his baby. The moment was here, and it was more terrifying than looking into the barrel of a sawed off shotgun. "Oh, thank GOD, he's CROWNING, Dana. We have a head. Push. Just a little bit more and it'll all be over." Hope smiled up at Dana, then at Mulder. He took a moment to appreciate how calm and collected his daughter appeared in the role of doctor. Then he lost feeling in his fingers again. He looked at Scully and forced his injured arm to move, his heavy, numb fingers to brush the wet strands of copper fire from her brow, leaving a smear of his own blood in his fingers wake. He kissed her temple. "Mary! Mary, the clamp!" Hope was calling out and Mulder looked to the bottom of the bed. His daughter was holding a mess. A squirming bundle covered in blood and other vile fluids. A baby. His baby. Hope took the clamp from Mary and tied off the umbilical cord. She looked up at Mulder and grinned. "Looks like I have a brother. Congratulations. Now get down here and do your job, for once." Scully let out a weak laugh. "Let me see him." "You'll hold him in a minute, Dana." Hope moved as Mulder let go Scully's hand and came to the bottom of the bed. The sheets and plastic lined floor were covered in blood and fluid. His throat tightened and he looked back to Scully. Was this normal? "Go ahead, Dad." Hope was beaming at him, offering the infant still attached to Scully. Mary pressed a pair of sharp scissors into his hand. "Right above the clamp." Hope explained. Mulder's hand shook. "Steady, Dad, or I might end up with a sister after all." Those were the last words Mulder heard. ##### Hope stood there, wide eyed, looking down at her father. "You can't take him anywhere, can you?" She looked up to see Dana struggling hard not to laugh. Mary cut the cord. Hope stepped over her father and cleaned the baby's nose and throat before handing him to his mother. Dana took him, her eyes filled with tears as she kissed his still messy cheek. She tucked him against her breast and then Dana proceeded to throw up. All in all, Hope was ecstatic to hear the sound of sirens in the distance. Chapter 12 - How much is that doggie in the window? ------------------- Jackie St. George pushed open the double doors to the maternity wing with a bit more force than necessary. The plane ride out here to the middle of frozen nowhere had been less then thrilling and she'd just learned that her best friend hadn't given birth in the hospital at all, but in some god forsaken ski lodge in the forest during a snowstorm. She pulled to a halt before a large paned window. Two people were peering into the room. One was Hope Jamison. The other was a woman about Jackie's height, a bandage wrapped around her head. Hope spotted Jackie and grinned. She pointed into the nursery where a nurse was currently changing a disinterested looking infant. "That is Andrew William Mulder. Isn't he cute? Five pounds 6 ounces. Almost a month premature, but doing wonderfully. Dad and Dana are down the hall. They are allowing Dana to shower, so you have to wait till the door opens again." Jackie couldn't pry her eyes away from the baby on the other side of the glass. "He's bald." Hope laughed. "He was born with a little tuft of red hair. But it came off on his pillow over-night. Dad was mortified. At least he didn't faint over it." Jackie smirked, she could just imagine Mulder's reaction. "Cut the guy some slack, Hope. He'd had a hell of an afternoon, lost quite a bit of blood and came back to be told to cut the cord. I'm amazed he stayed conscious as long as he did." The nameless woman chuckled. There was a story there, and Jackie was itching to here it. "Hi," She stuck her hand out, since Hope had failed to produce any introductions, "I'm Jackie St. George." The woman took the proffered hand. "Sheryl Martin. Pleased to meet ya." Both woman paused, feeling a shiver go up their spines, they looked each other over and shook their heads in wonder. "Nah..." They both spoke at once. Just then the door Hope had indicated opened. Mulder saw Jackie and grinned hugely. One of those ultra rare smiles filled with teeth. Jackie grinned back. "Hiya, daddy." She nodded to Hope and her new acquaintance and then pushed past Mulder to get to Scully. Dana was in bed, her hair still damp from the shower. She looked pale and weak. That made Jackie pause right there. But on seeing Jackie, Dana's face lit up. "I don't believe you flew all the way out here." "I don't believe you let Doogie Howser out there deliver your kid." Jackie jerked her thumb at the door. "She had help." Dana indicated an empty chair. "They'll be bringing Andy in for his feeding any moment." "What's this I hear about Mulder passing out?" Jackie sat down and eyed Mulder, a gleam in her eye. It faded when she realized he was wearing an arm splint. "It was blood loss." His tone was defensive. For once Jackie didn't push. There was a knock at the door and a nurse entered, bearing the blanket wrapped infant over whom so much fuss was made. Scully held out her arms and the baby was handed over. "As soon as I feed him you can hold him, Jackie." "What?" The Canadian squeaked. "I might break him. He's... he's... TINY." "If Mulder didn't break him you won't," Scully smirked, "and believe me, he didn't feel tiny coming out." There was another knock at the door and Mulder looked to see Lem Johnson cocking his head, asking him to follow. Mulder excused himself and followed the older man out, past Hope and Sheryl to a waiting room decorated with ducks and bunnies. "I wanted you to know everyone in good health has taken separate flights out of Colorado. Jimmy and Della are going to be discharged tomorrow. The pediatrician said their dehydration is cleared up and as long as Jimmy's wrists don't get infected they'll be fine." "What's being done about..." "There was a fight in the shed between two brothers. Hank Dryden beat the crap out of his little brother Mike before the twerp had enough and shot him in the head. Anything Mike Dryden is claiming is being flatly denied by us. We got twenty witnesses to say we were all busy with search parties looking for James and Della who got lost in a snow storm. Travis, Harry and I took care of the evidence and details." That left a bad taste in Mulder's mouth. He was actually taking part in a cover up. He sagged against a powder blue wall and swallowed his own disgust. "Do you think any of what we did was unjustified?" Lem's question caught Mulder off guard. "You tortured a man..." "Yeah. We did. And with perfect hindsight we now know that what he told us was useless as the kids had escaped. But at the time it was the only option." "I don't have to like it," Mulder muttered. "No, and if you did, if any of us did, I'd be really worried. We do what we have to for the protection of our family." Lem touched Mulder's shoulder. "That includes you. All of us would come to your aid if you needed it, Mulder. You've got all of us in your debt, and now that Tramp's made up his mind, you are really and truly part of the Family." "What?" Mulder looked up, shaken. "Yup. You got yourself a Dog. Tramp announced he'd be goin home with you and Dana. He said your family needs Watching Over. He's appointed himself the Dog to do it. The fact that he's a mutt is the perfect disguise. Now your biggest worry is if you'll ever get your computer off him. That Dog is a DOOM addict, man." Mulder chuckled. Two new members to his family. It was becoming scary. Two years ago he was a bachelor living in a three room apartment with his only concern his personal quest. Now he had a wife, a baby, a teenager in college and a Dog. Why did he get the feeling things were only going to become more chaotic in his life now that he'd 'settled down'. "Oh, and here's one for your X-Files, Mulder. The Dogs say DAISY led them to the kids. They followed her scent right to them. The kids claim she was with them the entire time. If there was ever any doubt that our friends have souls..." Lem spread his hands and smiled. Mulder walked back into his wife's room to find Jackie holding his son, a soft look on her face. She saw him come in and stood with her precious cargo. "Here you go, Mulder. Good thing for him he seems to take after his mother." She deposited Andrew in Mulder's arms. Hope came in and sat on the bed next to Scully, watching her father cradle her brother. Both man and infant staring into each other's eyes, getting to know one another. Sheryl had told her about Tramp. Hope grinned. Everything was going to be just fine. The phone rang beside the bed and Hope scooped it up. "Mulder room." She held the phone away from her ear with a wince. Well, almost everything was going to be alright. "Oh, Dad... It's Hellen." Hope grinned. END OF D.D. V: WATCHED OVER. ===================================================== Summery: Mulder ponders the meaning of Christmas. Short and sappy. G rated. Dedication: To my fellow xpfc members, and to Kristina Lake - who showed me the face of God. INTERLUDE V: THE GREATEST GIFT He awoke in darkness. The moonlight filtering through the window was a weak, pale promise of illumination never quite fulfilled. In the eerie darkness he could hear with a preternatural clarity. The soft, steady breathing by his side. The scrape of cotton sheets against flesh as a limb shifted and settled. The barely perceptible tick of his wristwatch on the night stand. His own blood coursing through his veins and the pounding of his heartbeat. He looked at the digital clock by his head, the green numbers painting the immediate area in a nightmarish glow. Four fifteen in the morning. The dead of the night had given way to the threat of morning. Fox Mulder rubbed at his eyes and wondered what unsensed stimuli had broken his peaceful slumber. He couldn't recall any nightmare. No terror clutching at him from the realm of somnolent horror forcing him into sweat-drenched wakefulness. Hell, Scully hadn't even whacked his nose with her elbow in her sleep, as was known to happen on occasion. Nothing but darkness and silence, and a sudden wakefulness that denied even the thought of further slumber. It was Christmas morning and he was as alert as any seven year old crouched outside of his parents door, aching to hear the first sounds of wakefulness and the promise of Santa's wonders. He slid from under the sheets and comforter. Familiarity allowed him to move silently through the room and to avoid waking the bed's other, more peacefully inclined occupant. He left the bedroom behind to pad on bare and silent feet to the living room where he plugged in the lights of the tree. The tiny spots of white immediately bathed the room in magical wonder. Ornaments glittered and caused some pinpoints of light to dance and sway, the decorations lost in their own silent celebration. Two years ago he hadn't celebrated Christmas. His own upbringing, an occasional mixture of hollowed-out Jewish and Presbyterian trappings left him confused as to what exactly was being celebrated and why. He learned early enough that mere ritual was being followed without a foundation of belief or faith. It was habit and rote, not celebration. Light the Menorah, spin the dreidel, but skip the prayers, don't explain the how and why. Wooden portrayals of supposed duty. Go to church for daddy. Sleep through the service, wait to tear open presents brought by Santa. Light the tree and move on. Even when Samantha was there, the ordeal had been the same. Ritual in a multi-faith household that lacked all faith. As he had grown the whole thing seemed designed for the enjoyment of children, something to be tolerated by adults. No purpose. Now he stood bathed in the mystical glow of tree lights in his own living room. He looked away from the tree to the Nativity placed with care on the coffee table. It was Scully's, of course. She'd told him it had been her grandmother's. She had set it up their first Christmas together and he had envied the faith that was symbolized by each figurine. It seemed both childishly earnest and anciently wise, her belief in something beyond this world. Beyond even her precious science. In a way, her faith was something stronger, and more trusting than his. He believed in extraterrestrials, in psychic powers, in things beyond the norm, but things that - in the end could be proved tangibly. A promise of something to touch and see. Of evidence. Her faith promised no such thing. Last year he had gazed at the Nativity and found it to be, to him, mostly a reminder of Scully's familial closeness. This year... this year he wasn't sure what he saw. Perhaps, just perhaps, a reminder of God. He smiled in the soft glow of indistinct light and reached a finger out to touch the tiny figure of Mary. If he'd been told a year ago that he'd see God in the lines and angles of a mass-produced nativity scene he'd have scoffed. But so much can change... Mulder looked away from the figures to the stacked piles of presents under the tree. Brightly wrapped boxes, ribbons and bows waiting only to be shred away and disregarded. Certainly more packages now than he'd thought he'd ever see under his own roof. But not a single offered present could come close to the gift he'd been given a month ago. Not one material gift could force him to find his faith in something beyond himself, beyond Scully as what he'd already been graced with. He left the lighted living room to pad back up the stairs. He opened the door across the hall from the one he'd earlier exited. He crossed the room and looked down at the greatest gift, illuminated by the pale moonlight. The face of God. He reached out a steady hand to stroke the tiny cheek with the same delicate care he'd applied to the figurine. Eyes the color of heaven's skies popped open and peered at him with the serious study of a scholar. Tiny lips pursed in consternation at the invader who had unintentionally disturbed visions of sugar plums or whatever unformed comforts a one month-old mind might grasp. "Shhhh. Shhhh," Mulder reached into the crib and picked the infant up. "That's my boy. Don't wake Mommy." He carefully sat in the rocker he'd bought eight months ago. The first purchase made to prepare for the miracle he now held. He felt warm breath against the bare skin of his naked chest. Solemn eyes looked up at him still. The face of God in the features of his only begotten son. The promise of something greater than the now of the moment. The gift of a future. "Merry Christmas, Andrew. Did you know it's Christmas?" Mulder's voice was a raspy whisper in the darkness of the room. "But you know what? You and your mommy are the greatest gifts I ever received." "The feeling's mutual." Mulder jumped a bit as he turned to see Scully's figure outlined in the doorway. "I... I didn't want to wake you." "So I heard." She crossed to peer over his shoulder and look down at their son. "Just between you and me, Andy, I think your daddy's a little excited about Christmas this year." Mulder grinned in the dark. "Just a bit. But not for the reasons you might think, Scully." "Since we're all up, let's go. I'll start some coffee and you can introduce Andrew to that train set you bought for him." Scully ruffled Mulder's hair and moved out into the hall. "Merry Christmas, Scully," he called after her. "Yeah, yeah, it will be as soon as I get some coffee." She called back. Mulder stood up and cradled his tiny son close to his heart. "It already is," he whispered. "Thank you." The last was said to one he had only just begun to believe was listening. END GREATEST GIFT.