Part 4 Madame Miranda's Love Connection January 17, 1999 12:37 AM "Stop that, Mulder," Scully said as Mulder sat behind Miranda's desk and began rifling through the top drawer. They were in hour three of a fruitless stakeout and Mulder's mind and body needed exercise. For her part, Scully was content to lay back against the ornate purple chair with her stockinged feet up on a footstool she had pulled up to use as an ottoman. They had pulled back the velvet draperies, which gave them access to two rooms at once--the reading room, where they spent most of their time, and the waiting area. "I'm just being thorough. There may be clues that Miranda has overlooked. Besides, it's not like I'm looking in her underwear drawer or anything." "Mulder. It's still her desk. Do you think the ghost--or whatever you think we're dealing with--left her a note?" "He wrote on glass. Why not paper? Ah--what have we here?" Mulder pulled out a small printed card with a picture of a crystal ball on the front. Inside was a description of where it was made and how many years the company had been in business but on the back was a handwritten note. "'A crystal ball for a rusty psychic. Your reading last night sucked. Love, K'. K--" Mulder closed his eyes and put the card up to his forehead. "K--I see a cop--a cop named Kevin. So, he's the 'friend' who gave her the exploding crystal ball." Scully smiled softly. Mulder frowned. "You find that romantic, don't you? God. It sounds downright insulting to me. He told her that the work she does sucks. *Sucks,* Scully. That's romantic?" "If it was an insult, she wouldn't have kept the card. There must be more to it and therefore, yes--it's kind of romantic." Mulder stared at her with an unreadable expression on his face. When she first met him, she found that look intriguing. Then there was a short phase when she felt she actually could read those unreadable expressions. Now, they just annoyed her. "What?" Scully asked, finally. "Nothing," he put the card back and closed the drawer. He let his arms hang down between his spread legs and looked up. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." "Where did you pick that up? Ghost-busting 101?" He looked at her again. "Aren't you bored? Tired? Frustrated?" "All of the above. And I'm cold, too. Miranda should have warned us that they turn off the heat." "She probably didn't know," Mulder said. "She made you uncomfortable, didn't she?" "Why would you ask that?" "Just a feeling." "Mulder--you throw out these odd statements and have nothing to back them up." "You gave her a strange look, okay?" "What kind of a strange look." "A look of avoidance. Like you didn't want her delving into your private thoughts." "She not going to go delving into anything." "Oh? Don't be too sure." "Mulder. This is ridiculous. You think she automatically reads everyone she meets?" "I would." "Yeah, I have no doubt about that." "And I would have read *you* the minute you walked through the basement door." She said nothing but rolled her eyes and smiled. She knew he was doing this just to stir up the static air in the place. "Would you have read me?" he asked. "No." "Really? Come on--picture it. You have this wonderful gift of seeing into another person's love life and you wouldn't use it?" "No." "Why not?" "Because I would never imagine it to be as simple as it seems." "You complicate things, Scully." "I'm sure I do," she said. "You're very agreeable today." "Yes, I am." "I bet all that would stop if I made a really smutty suggestion, wouldn't it?" "Well, you answered your own question, didn't you?" He frowned. "Scully--have I ever done anything you consider the least bit romantic?" It was Scully's turn to stare at him. The question was unexpected. They had had one night together--so many months before that she assumed he just considered it a big mistake on both their parts and wanted to move on. The next day had been tempestuous, at best. It started with the OPR hearing where he felt personally betrayed, and was followed by the return of Diana Fowley, which stirred up all kinds of negative emotions in Scully. At times, she wasn't so sure they *hadn't* made a mistake. But, Mulder had been right in what he said as he held her after their last time together. They had one night that no one could take away from them. One perfect night. And then, without discussion, they returned to their easier, tried and true relationship. The banter soon resumed but was without real promise. Mulder's question seemed to go beyond banter, however, and threw her enough to allow her to answer without guile or hesitation. "Antarctica," she said softly. "And a few other times but that one--well, you can't get much more romantic than that." He smiled, warm and genuine and then deflected. "Hey-- it's just the type of guy I am. I'm making some coffee. You want some?" XXXXX Miranda's apartment Hotel Andres 1:45 AM Miranda closed the door behind her. Max ambled by her side as she walked down the dimly lit hallway past the faded floral wallpaper. At one time, the Hotel Andres was a reasonably priced hotel catering to families on seashore vacations. Now, it was an inexpensive residential hotel filled with retirees, people down on their luck and ... Miranda. No one questioned why she lived there. She seemed to belong in some vague, inexplicable way and the other residents accepted her without question. Max ran over to an elderly gentleman seated on a ratty wooden rocker. He was facing the balcony doors in one of the hotel's communal lobbies. The old man laughed and ran his fingers through the golden coat. "Hey, Max, old boy--what's happen'in?" "Good evening, Rupert." "Evening, Randa. What you doing up so late?" "I could ask you the same thing." "You could, but you already know the answer. I'm an old man. Don't need more than 4 or 5 hours at night--tops. I do take a nice afternoon nap, though. Now, what's your excuse?" "I don't know. I just wanted some fresh air." "Girl, that air can get no fresher. It's twenty degrees out there. It's so fresh, it'll bite you on your bee- hind." She smiled. "I'll only be out there for a few minutes. You can time me, okay?" "Okay." Miranda left Max by Rupert's side and stepped out onto the old balcony, closing the french doors behind her. If she leaned far enough to her right, she could see the ocean but she chose to just concentrate on the empty streets. A sudden movement caught her eye and she stepped back for a moment. "Miranda, Miranda, wherefore art thou, Miranda?" "Kevin?" Kevin stepped out of the shadows of the motel across the street and crossed to her side. "Kevin, it's almost 2 AM. What are you doing here?" "What are you doing up?" "I couldn't sleep." "No ... sightings?" "No. Of course not. Kevin, you're going to wake everyone up." "So, I'll arrest myself." "Kevin, go home. I'm fine." "Where's Max?" "In with Rupert." "He should be with you." "Next time." "I should be with you." "You should be home." "So should you. I'll go in when you get off that creaky balcony, stop freezing your butt and the lights go off in your apartment." "So, is that what you've been out here waiting for? My lights?" "Yes it is." "You're hopeless. And I think you might qualify as a stalker." "I don't care." "Good night, Kevin. Go home. I'm not kidding." "Lights off." "Go home. I already had one father. I don't need another one." He smiled up at her and she gave him a quick, dismissive wave. She smiled as she closed the doors behind her. "Girl! You didn't tell me you got yourself a fella," Rupert said. "I don't." "Uh-huh." "Good night, Rupert." She walked back to her room with Max following closely at her heels. The old man's laughter gently accompanied their steps. XXXXXX Madame Miranda's Love Connection 6:45 AM "Scully," she felt a hand touch her hair. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. Scully opened her eyes with a slight groan. It was even colder than before. "What time is it?" "6:45--rise and shine." "Mulder, I've only been asleep for a half-hour." "I know. You fell asleep right in the middle of one of my more scintillating stories. Remember?" "Uh, huh." "Of course you don't. You need your jolt of caffeine by now. But, we're being relieved in fifteen minutes and you can either caffeine yourself up or go to bed in your nice, deluxe motel room. Your choice." "I'll get back to you on that. Who's relieving us? Kevin?" "Nope. Miranda's old uncle got someone to relieve us during the day. He's giving us time to sleep and investigate outside of the shop." "Your government dollars at work." "Scully, you're not taking this case seriously." "I am, Mulder--but I'm also putting it in perspective. If this happened to anyone other than a relative of a high ranking FBI official--you wouldn't even be able to get the local PD involved." "Well, it is happening to a relative of a government official. And it is an x-file--albeit a seemingly minor one. So, we are on the case." She leaned back against the couch and then leaned forward. "Where are you going?" "You'll see." She heard the back lock being opened and the door closing. In a few minutes, she heard the metal security gate lock being opened. She got up and stood by the windows. She couldn't see anything from inside but the bright morning sunlight should tell the tale. When Mulder pulled it up, the only thing seen through the windows was Mulder's smiling face. Their ghost had writer's block. End of Part 4