Ch. 8

2:44 pm

The electronic bleating of the cellphone was almost muffled by the
vinyl seat, but she caught it on the fourth ring.

"Scully."

"Hey, where are you?"

"Ten minutes from the office. Something wrong?"

"I just talked to Agent Kramer. He's heading up the search. He said
there had been a formal request made for me to work on the case."

"Yeah, I know. I was just up there, actually."

"I thought so. Scully, I wish you wouldn't have done that."

"It wasn't me, Mulder, she asked for you."

Nothing.

"Mulder?"

"She did?"

"Mmmhmmm."

Scully could read nothing into his silence.

"They think they might have a lead. Somewhere in Southeast DC. I'm on
my way to meet them."

His sudden professionalism was covering something he wasn't ready to
deal with yet.

"Okay. Well, I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah." Click.

She shook her head and dropped the phone back onto the seat, doing her
best to pretend she wasn't the least bit worried about him.

**********************
Mulder ducked under the yellow police tape and pinpointed Agent Kramer
under a haze of cigarette smoke.

After flashing his badge, the older man nodded, pointing to the gurney
being wheeled into an ambulance.

"It's not her."

Mulder nodded, waiting.

"8-year-old girl. They found her body in the stairwell. Beaten. Can't
find her family, but neighbors said the stepfather and a few assorted
boyfriends the mother kept around were abusive." He dropped his
cigarette butt to the ground, stamping it out with the heel of his
cheap loafer. "Makes you wonder why nobody did anything about it. I'm
sick of this shit."

He looked over to see that Mulder's gaze was no longer meeting his,
but was focused intently on the ground. Without a word, Mulder
returned to his car and sped off.

Agent Kramer watched Mulder fishtail back onto the main road, as he
lit another cigarette. "Now I know why they call him Spooky," he
muttered to himself.

In the car, Mulder pulled out his cellphone, then thought better of
it. He'd tell her in person. 

Maybe then she'd believe him.

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

chapter 9


6:50 pm

Christmas.

Why did these things always happen around Christmas?

Scully's God obviously had some end-of-the-year clearance on misery.
Maybe there was some quota he and Scully hadn't met. 

Her father had died around the holidays. Then Emily. And it had never
been a Hallmark holiday for him either. Maybe when Sam was
around...had she still believed in Santa before she...?  He couldn't
remember.

He *could* remember sitting alone in his apartment at Oxford, after
convincing the few friends he'd made that he had *big* plans for
winter break. He didn't mind being alone, it was better than going
home. He just didn't want anyone feeling sorry for him. He could do
that for himself.

The TV announced that "It's A Wonderful Life" was airing next week.
Mulder snapped off the TV, sitting in darkened silence.

He didn't need a little old angel to tell him what life would have
been like if he'd never been born. There would be no X-Files, and the
most beautiful woman he'd ever known would be married to a brain
surgeon with 2.6 children. Advantage: Scully.

What if Scully had never been born? That was an easy one. He'd be
dead. End of story. Frank Capra would not be pleased.

He heard the lock tumble, admitting her into the shadows of his
darkened mood. He wasn't sure if it was his good angel or his bad
angel who occasionally tried to force her to leave him. Obviously, one
of them was bent on self-preservation, because it would kill him if
they succeeded.

"Where have you been?"

She was startled, even though, having worked on the X-Files, she was
accustomed to the darkness having a voice.

"Mulder, you know where I've been. I talked to you two hours ago. Why
are you sitting here in the dark?" She clicked on the small lamp be
the door.

He wouldn't look at her. She hated that. It was as though someone were
speaking to her in a foreign language and she couldn't find an
interpreter. His eyes always told her what his words could not. It
made her feel a little off-balance, and she decided she wasn't going
down alone.

"Since when do I need your permission to leave the grounds, Agent
Mulder?" Her arms came across her chest as she prepared for battle.

"Why did you go up there?" He was still staring straight ahead,
apparently arguing with the TV screen. But Scully was the one who was
about to blow a fuse.

"Because she asked me to come, Mulder". Her tone sent a chill through
him; Mr. Freeze had nothing on Scully in an argument.

Finally Mulder swung his head around. "What did she say?"

Scully's eyes were narrowed at him, her lips tight, and for the first
time he saw her resemblance to Bill Jr.

"I'll just type it all up in one of my 'little reports' and leave it
on your desk," she hissed.

Scully walked around the sofa to stand in front of him, daring him to
speak. Instead, he picked up a sheet of paper and held it up. She
raised her eyebrows in a question.

"Profile," he offered. Just as Scully reached for the paper, he
snatched it back, crumpling it in one large hand.

"What did you do that for?" her voice tight with the strain of
desperately trying not to strangle him.

"Because I know who did it. I know who took her."

Scully sat down on the coffee table. "Who?"

Mulder's face twisted with sarcasm and rage. "Dear old Grandpa."

"How do you know?"

He lowered his head. "I just know."

Scully sat back with a resigned sigh. "So you don't have any proof."

He looked as though she'd slapped him.

"He has Lauren, Scully. They're probably running tests on her right
now. Do you want to find her now or be polite and wait until they're
finished?"

He stood, circling the couch in two steps and reaching for the phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"My sister," he growled, "if that's alright with you."

"Mulder, wait. You can't do that," she paused. "She thinks he's dead."

"I wish she was right," he said coolly.

"Mulder, don't do this to her now. There's absolutely no rational
reason to tell her your suspicions. She still thinks of him as her
father. Do you want to hurt her even more?"

She had meant 'more than she's hurting already', but she knew he
hadn't heard it that way. She knew he would take full responsibility
for a natural disaster if he could just get hold of the paperwork.

His entire body tensed, and he slammed the phone down onto the base.
He knew she was right, just as he knew he couldn't stay in the same
room with her for another second. He would say something to hurt her.
He stalked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

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