Raspberry and Lace - Part 9/10 Summary and disclaimers in Part 1 ***** Mulder sat in the dim light of the Raspberry and Lace's kitchen playing solitaire at the small table in the center of the huge room. He hadn't turned on all the lights, just the one above the stove; he wanted his eyes to adjust to the dark quickly if the need arose. He hadn't slept, since he had been too busy thinking of Scully, so he played the card game in order to keep himself awake and alert. It was distracting, but not so much he wasn't aware of his surroundings. Yet, when his cell phone rang, he jumped. With a frustrated sigh directed at himself, he picked it up off the table where he had laid it after taking over for Monica, and answered it. "Mulder." "Mulder, it's me." He immediately felt his heart speed up, as it almost always did upon hearing her voice. "Hey. Do you know what time it is?" "Yes, Mulder. Believe me, I am very aware of the time." Her voice was full of sarcasm, and Mulder smiled when he heard it. "Let's just say it's a little hard to sleep around here when there are people sneaking around outside." "Did you catch him?" Mulder demanded. God, he hoped so. He wanted to go home...to Scully. "No." Mulder's heart sank at her words. "But we did catch Bobby Wagner." "Bobby Wagner? The guy that works at the gas station here in Bartow?" "Yep." "What the hell was he doing at Doggett's house?" "He wouldn't say," Scully responded. Mulder felt his brow furrow. "Did he say anything?" "Nope." His lips twitched. "You sound pissed, Scully." "Do I really? Imagine that." She sighed heavily. "I'm just very ready for this to end. Doggett's a wonderful host, but I want to go home." "Hey, this was your idea," Mulder argued. "Don't remind me. Hey, Mulder?" "Yeah?" "This Connie is sure she saw Wagner talking with Wallace?" "She's pretty sure." "Well, if that's the case, Wagner could be here because of Wallace. Feeling the place out maybe." Mulder nodded. "Right. Which means I want you and Doggett to stay on the alert. Wallace could be watching you guys even now." "Or he could be watching you," Scully countered. The words had barely echoed in Mulder's ear when a startled shriek from somewhere in the old building caused Mulder to turn toward the kitchen door sharply. "Damnit!" he growled. "I hope you're wrong. Gotta go!" He barely registered Scully's angry voice calling out his name as he disconnected. Setting the phone down, he picked up his weapon and headed for the door. He and Reyes were the only ones in the house, and the shout he had heard sounded like his current partner. But what had caused it? The locks to this old house were good, and the windows were strong, hard to break without great force. Wallace couldn't have gotten in without notice. Unless he had a key. Connie, Mulder thought. She had keys. If someone had gotten to her... Slowly, silently, he made his way up the stairs, once more thanking Fate or whoever that there were no guests in the building yet. Reaching the top of the ornate staircase, he moved toward the room he knew Monica used. The door was closed, and he could see no signs that anyone had been by recently. His eyes, having accustomed themselves to the dark quickly, as planned, scanned the floor, the walls, the other doors. He reached Monica's room. If he crashed in there, only to discover the woman on the other side of the door had had a bad dream or something of the sort, he would feel like an absolute fool. Wouldn't be the first time. But, if she was in danger... Just as he was reaching for the doorknob, he heard a thud from inside the room. Loud enough to be a person's body. He turned the knob slowly and gently pushed open the door. A loud whisper from the other side made him pause. "You bitch. You may not be her, but you'll do for now." Mulder took a deep breath, then kicked the door in, weapon ready. "Freeze! FBI!" Kip Wallace turned from where he stood hunched over Reyes' limp body. He carried a gun in his hand, and with speed that startled Mulder, he threw up his arm and took a shot. Mulder, who was still in the hallway, dodged to the side as the bullet hit the doorframe. He heard a gasp and knew that Wallace had grabbed Monica. "Drop your gun and get in here," Wallace growled. "Unless you want your lovely partner here to take a bullet in her pretty little head." Mulder raised his arms and stepped into the room, making sure Wallace saw him drop the weapon and push it off to the side with his foot. He glanced at Monica. She seemed a bit woozy, but she met his gaze. Though she was still clothed, it was apparent she had been grabbed straight from sleep. He had failed her. He had been the one on watch; she should have been able to sleep safe. "Very good." Mulder turned his attention back to Wallace as the man started speaking again. "It's nice to know some FBI can follow orders." He shoved Monica on the ground again. As the woman fell, Mulder noticed her hands were tied behind her back. He cringed. With her groggy and restrained, she would not be any help to him...or herself. "Now, before I take the little look-alike here with me, I want to know where Charlene is." "You really expect me to tell you?" Mulder asked. "Well, since I haven't heard back from my friend Bobby yet, I can't be sure she's in Alexandria. But, I'm guessing that is exactly where she is." He nodded with confidence. "With that other FBI agent, right? Funny," he started giggling. "I never thought Charlene would fall for an FBI agent." He glanced at Monica, who had managed to get to her knees. "Seems I was right." His smile disappeared. "Now, what should I do about you?" A bright grin split his face in two. "I know!" He moved toward Mulder. "Turn around and get on your knees, hands behind your back." Mulder glared at him for a moment, then did as told. "You know, I've been in this position before," he said, his tone conversational. "I didn't die then, either." "Really? Does that mean you think you're going to get out of this?" Though Mulder couldn't see the man's face, he could feel the mouth of the gun on the back of his skull. "I don't think so." Mulder felt and saw so many things in that one moment, he thought his brain might overload. Just as the many other times he had been near death, he thought of Scully. But, now her image wasn't alone. That of her unborn child appeared just as clear. He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering if maybe he was destined to never know his child. BANG! He jumped at the sound of the shot, but knew immediately it hadn't come from the revolver Wallace had been holding. Just as before when he had escaped an execution style death, he felt his heart jump to his throat, then dive back down to his churning stomach. A grunt of pain followed the sound of the gunshot, and Mulder took advantage of the moment. Dropping his arms, he twisted sideways, bringing his hands down to the floor, and swung his legs back, knocking the legs of the serial killer out from under him. Wallace didn't need much encouragement to fall, Mulder realized. He was already gripping his right shoulder in pain, his gun hanging in his useless right hand. The gun dropped to the floor as he fell. Mulder quickly threw the man on his stomach, straddled him, and pulled his arms behind his back. Wallace screamed in pain, but Mulder ignored him, pulling a set of handcuffs from his back pocket and flicking them on Wallace's wrists. He took the fallen gun and shoved it in the waistband of his jeans. With the groaning prisoner struggling painfully under him, he looked at Monica. She was laying on the floor, her eyes clear and bright with fear and excitement. In the hands tied behind her back, she held a small gun. Her right pant leg had been pulled up, revealing an empty ankle holster. "Good shootin', Tex!" Mulder shouted, his own adrenaline high. "Whad'ya mean, 'good shootin'?" she demanded. "I missed! I was aiming for the fucker's head!" Giving Wallace a hard shove on his back, Mulder started laughing. ***** They all met the next morning at the Sheriff's Office in Bartow. Wallace, who had been treated at the local clinic hours earlier, was being transported to Charleston mid-morning, where he would face charges for the death of three women several years ago and assault on a Federal Agent. Having been on the FBI's most wanted list for nearly ten years, Wallace's capture was bound to make headlines, and Mulder and Reyes were not looking forward to the media attention. Scully had insisted on taking the three hour drive from Alexandria to Bartow with Doggett and Charlie, even though long distance traveling was tough for her these days; she had to take restroom breaks far too often. But she was curious to know the 'how' and the 'why' behind Wallace's attempt to get at Charlie so many years after her initial escape from him. Wallace had indeed been in prison for most of the last several years...but not in the US. Which was why the FBI had not been able to find him. After running from the authorities in '91, Wallace had fled to Mexico, where he was arrested after only three months in residence for knifing a Federale who had requested Wallace stop loitering on a certain affluent street corner. Knowing he was a wanted man in the US, Wallace had stuck with his alias, Roy Breker. Not really caring if the US wanted him or not, Mexico sent his photo and name out to the American authorities, and when they received no reply, sentenced him to a Mexican prison for fifteen years. He was let out early for good behavior. He had never stopped thinking about returning to West Virginia and continuing where he left off. Bobby Wagner, his old High School buddy, was more than willing to help him out; ever since Charlie had moved to Bartow, she had ignored his advances. The rebuffs had Wagner seeing red. It hadn't been hard to weasel out the name of the Agent in Alexandria or the cell number of the Agent supposedly romancing Charlie at the R&L. Deputy Cliff Stewart had already been fired for his gullibility and stupidity. Convinced Charlie wouldn't leave her home, Wallace sent Bobby to Doggett's to check and make sure Charlie wasn't there. Unfortunately, Wallace hadn't prescribed to the 'if you want it done right, do it yourself' theory. Now, Wagner would also been spending time in prison. Wallace was expected to get a minimum of life. After Wallace was taken away in the care of several Federal Marshals, Charlie, who had been subdued all morning, came to life. She never stopped chattering in the car as they drove out to her bed and breakfast; she was very anxious to meet her weekend guests. Connie, who's keys had indeed been stolen by Wallace the evening before while she was out at the Boot Hill Saloon, was taking care of the new arrivals. The room that Monica had slept in, the one with Wallace's blood on the floor and the bullet gouge in the door frame, would be closed off until the police were done with it and it could be cleaned and repaired. But the guests didn't need to know this. Scully was impressed by the Raspberry and Lace. It was just the kind of peaceful place she would enjoy staying the weekend in. As she pulled herself out of the car, she looked over at the man stepping out of the driver's side of the other vehicle. It was the perfect peaceful place to have a very serious discussion with the man you loved, too, she thought. Mulder turned his head to look at her, and she blushed, quickly looking toward the front door of the building where a woman, presumably Connie, was waiting. Charlie swept up the stairs and she and Connie hugged exuberantly. An older woman, later introduced as Mrs. McClarren, also stepped outside into the warm, spring air to give Charlie a hug. She and Doggett mounted the steps onto the porch and accepted the thanks offered by the other women for taking care of Charlie. Then, they were directed into the house. Scully moved forward slowly, trying not to think about how she again needed to visit the restroom, when Mulder came up behind her, escorting her into the building with a familiar hand on her back. Other than the grins they had shared when she had arrived at the Sheriff's office earlier, they had not had any contact at all. Now, his presence was not only comforting, but nerve-wracking; she had done a lot of thinking since they had last been in each others presence. But, the talk she anticipated was not destined to happen at the Raspberry and Lace. After eating a wonderful meal prepared by Mrs. McClarren, the four agents decided to head home. Reyes still had her car at the R&L, and both Mulder and Doggett had their own vehicles, so Scully had a choice with whom she would ride back to DC with. As if there was a choice. Now was the perfect time for that talk. ***** Agent Reyes had left with a smile and a soft 'good luck' directed at John just after Fox escorted Dana out of the house. Charlie wasn't ready to try and guess what the woman had meant by those words. But she did get an inkling when she realized John didn't look like he was in a hurry to leave. Her skin began to tingle and her heart started to race; she and John were alone. "Well..." she said, her voice unusually husky. "Yeah, well." He didn't move. He just stood there and watched her, his hands deep in the front pockets of his dress pants. He looked different in a suit, she thought. Different, but just as good. "You better get going," she told him softly. "I'm sure Fox and Dana will need your help to catch more bad guys." John's lips curved into a faint smile. "I'm sure." He sighed and took a step toward her. "Charlie, I..." She waited, and when he didn't continue, she tilted her head and prompted, "You...?" "I'd really like to see you again." She gently bit her lower lip, but she wasn't sure if she was doing it to keep herself from smiling at the rushed, almost nervous way he said it, or to keep from crying because she knew from the look in his eyes he meant every word. She nodded. "I'd like that, too." He gave a sharp nod. "Good. I mean, great." He stopped and looked slightly confused for a moment. "I..." Again, he stopped, apparently at a loss for words. Where had the brave, bold FBI man gone, Charlie wondered? "You know where to find me, John," she said softly. His eyes met hers, and again she was filled with wonder at their beauty. "Yeah." He blinked and looked around the foyer where they were standing. "This looks like a wonderful place to run away to for the weekend." She allowed herself a smile this time. "Yes. It is." He looked back at her, that familiar smirk once again adorning his face. He stepped forward and leaned into her. He was only a few inches taller than her, but she still felt tiny next to his powerful, wiry frame. Yet, despite that feeling of smallness, she felt no fear. And when his lips touched hers, Wallace and the horrors she had survived were the farthest thing from her mind. He stepped back, and Charlie realized she had closed her eyes sometime during the gentle but very non-platonic kiss. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. "One step at a time," he whispered. "Hope you don't get bored, going slow," she whispered back. His smile widened. "Yeah, right." He turned and headed for the open door, speaking over his shoulder. "Let's just say I'm going to be looking forward to my weekends for the first time in a long time, Ms. Taylor." Before he exited, he turned and winked at her. Then he was gone. ***** Mulder had been driving for nearly an hour before Scully made any kind of comment whatsoever. "You better pull over here." An old gas station sat off to the right. He glanced at the gas gauge, though he knew they didn't need to fill up. Stealing a glance at the woman next to him, he guessed it was the exact opposite. With an amused sigh, he turned into the station and parked next to the old building. "Are you sure?" he asked. "We might find a better place to stop further down." Newer. Cleaner. "I'm sure," she responded through clenched teeth as she slid out of the car. "Need any help?" Mulder called after her. She turned a deadly glare his way. That was her only answer. He didn't have to wait long. She was back within minutes, her face set in a grimace of disgust. "That bad, huh?" She shook her head. "Let's go." "Need anything to drink before we go?" Again, the glare. "All right, all right," he mumbled as he started the engine and pulled back onto the highway. They were silent again for another ten minutes or so, but it wasn't a comfortable silence. Scully seemed unusually tense, as if she was about to say something, but couldn't. Mulder wished she would say something. Starting a conversation might actually help him tell her what he wanted to tell her. Might actually help him ask those questions he needed to ask but was too afraid to. "Mulder?" Finally. "Yeah?" "You know that class I've been taking?" "That birthing class thing?" "Lamaze. Yes." He nodded. "Well, Mom made a suggestion the other day that I thought was a pretty good idea." "What?" "That you be my partner." He kept his eyes on the road, not looking at her. He didn't want her to see how excited he was about the idea. "You sure you want me to be the one by your side when you give birth, Scully? I mean, I might pass out or something." He glanced at her. She had a soft smile on her face. "Yes, I'm sure I want you to be there." She paused, then said softly. "You have more right than anyone to be at this child's birth." His heart swelled upon hearing those words. Though she hadn't said it outright, she had basically just told him she considered this child his. "I'll do it, Scully. Just tell me when." She looked over at him and nodded. "Thank you." She looked at his hands on the steering wheel for a moment, avoiding his gaze. "Mulder, I..." "Yeah, Scully?" She sighed and looked away out the passenger window. "Never mind." ***** End 9/10