Sunday, April 12
Atlanta, Georgia
Crime Scene

Dr. Samantha Waters stared down at the body of a young girl where she lay in a damp Atlanta alley. Looking at the girl, she couldn't help but think of her own little girl, Chloe. It was the third identical murder in just under a month, and they were no closer to solving the case than they had been when the previous victim had been discovered. The little girl was no more than ten years old, and Sam's heart lurched at the obscenity of it.

She recalled the relief she had felt when Grace had revealed there was no evidence of sexual assault. The relief was something of a double edge sword, because it made discerning the killers motives even more difficult. Closing her eyes against the sight in front of her, she sought to discover anything of the killer that might have been missed before. In her mind's eye, she could see him watching the girl from a distance. He would wait until he could strike, when others' attention was at its least. The catch was that he always abducted the young girls when they were in their homes, with at least one parent nearby.

She was uncertain, but for some reason she had the feeling that he thought he was helping the girls in someway. However, the connection wasn't falling into place. Sighing softly, she looked around the people gathered at the crime scene. Officers and medical personnel hurried here and there, yet she found herself unable to move.

A light drizzle began to fall onto the area when the evidence team was just finishing up. Detective John Grant walked over to where Sam was continuing to gaze at the ground. A flash of concern filled his blue eyes when he recognized the distant look on her face. Standing beside her, he spoke quietly. "Come on, Sam. There's nothing more that can be done here." She nodded silently, and walked alongside John back to the car they had driven to the alley only an hour before.

"I'm not sure why," she said quietly as she watched the buildings of downtown Atlanta pass by the window as John drove. "But I can't get a grasp on this one. Flashes, maybe. But the whole picture is a mystery. It's strange. I can run so far with it, and then it's like a door slams shut. There's something we're not seeing."

He glanced over at her, quickly returning his attention back to the road. There had been a note of defeat in her voice he was unaccustomed to hearing. When they first met, she had initially surprised him with her determination and tenacity. The longer they had known one another, the more endearing qualities he found in Sam. It hurt him to see her so seemingly lost and confused. The case had the entire team rattled, and the pressure to catch a child killer was intense. It wasn't unheard of for the stress to cause someone to lose focus. But not Sam his inner voice insisted.

"We'll catch this guy, Sam," was all he said in response. The rest of the drive was silent, with each agent lost in thought.

Monday, April 13
Washington, D.C.
Basement Office of Special Agents Mulder and Scully

Ever since arriving that morning, Scully had been surprised by the quiet atmosphere that had intruded upon the office she shared with Mulder. She had caught herself repeatedly glancing over at where he was sitting behind his desk. She was curious if something had happened over the weekend, but hesitated to ask. It was several minutes later that she noticed he had fallen asleep.

Given the opportunity to observe Mulder's appearance without being questioned or harassed, she took in his appearance. If she were to guess, she would say he hadn't gotten much sleep over the weekend. His hair was tousled and his face appeared drawn. Since he hadn't mentioned anything, nor had she received any late night phone calls during the past few nights, she was led to assume that he was having nightmares again. True, he did often call her after a rough nightmare, but more often than not he came to work the next morning looking much as he did at the moment. Like hell.

Crossing the office, she sat on the edge of his desk and felt his forehead for signs of a temperature. She didn't expect to find one, but was relieved all the same to discover she was correct. He stirred at her touch and she could see his eyes struggle to focus. After a few moments, he looked up at where she sat watching him intently.

"What?" His expression plead innocence, but Mulder knew better than to try and out bluff Scully. Switching tactics, he attempted to steer the conversation to work. "So, have you finished the reports that Skinner wants? It is your turn after all."

Scully closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. If he thought he was getting off that easy, he had another thing coming. "When is it not my turn to do the paperwork, Mulder?" She tried to smile, but her concern shone through in her eyes. "What happened to you this weekend?"

Mulder looked away from Scully's gaze. His eyes searched all over the office for something else, anything else to turn the conversation onto. He could tell she had guessed what had led him be in this condition. If it wasn't alien retro viruses, it was the demons of his own mind. Over the past month his dreams, which had faded somewhat in the previous weeks, had returned with a vengeance. He had started to tell Scully about them before, but hadn't wanted to bother her. Now he knew he would probably pay for that decision.

"The dream. The same dream I've been having for a month now, only different. I don't understand it. Each is the same, yet different. I can go for nights without one, and for four nights in a row they're relentless. This is the third time, and by far the worst."

Scully tried to recall if any times over the past month she could recall Mulder coming in to work in such a state of . . . She wasn't even sure how to classify it. Sadly, she couldn't remember. Scully had been distracted somewhat ever since Emily, and in her off time she had especially kept to herself. Clearing her throat she said, "I'm sorry I hadn't noticed, Mulder. What was your dream about? Do you want to talk about it?" The look of relief in his hazel eyes broke her heart.

He closed his eyes momentarily, and saw flashes of the dreams in his mind. "It starts like I'm dreaming about Samantha." Mulder was speaking slowly, he hated admitting his weakness over something that he could never see as anything but his fault. "We're in the house, playing Stratego. Then it changes. I'm not twelve anymore, the house is different, and the girl isn't Samantha. In fact, the girl and house are different every time."

He paused, and Scully wondered if he was going to continue. "Then I'm not in the house, I'm with a man, and the man is watching the girl. Somehow, it's hard to explain, but he takes the girl. It ends with me chasing after him." Looking up at Scully, his eyes betrayed his confusion.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Her voice was a hoarse whisper, she couldn't believe she hadn't seen it before now.

Sighing, he paused before speaking. "I didn't want to bother you. You've had enough to worry about the past few months because of me without adding more."

"You should know that it wouldn't be a bother. That's what friends are for, Mulder. What do you think is causing the dreams?" He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, signifying his lack of an explanation. "Do you remember the dates they happened on?" She crossed back over to where her laptop was set up, waiting on Mulder to speak.

"Do I remember? I wish I could forget, Scully. Let's see. The first time I had the dreams was in mid-March, the 16th through the 19th. The next was March 27th through the 30th. And this weekend, April 9th through the 12th. Why?" He stood wearily, and walked over to where Scully was sitting and read over her shoulder at the computer screen.

She finished typing in the dates, and then asked, "Can you describe the girls and the houses?" Scully switched over into professional mode, and silently hoped Mulder might do the same. She knew better, even before he started speaking with a tormented look in his eyes.

"Okay, the first girl had short brown hair. She looked about nine or ten years old, and she was wearing a blue pajama set. The house was split level, painted off-white. A minivan of some sort was parked in the driveway." As Mulder continued to relate the haunted images from his dreams, Scully typed wondering what had lead to such a situation.

Monday, April 13
Atlanta, Georgia
VCTF Offices

The team had assembled early the next morning in the Command Center. No member appeared to be escaping this particular case unscathed. After allowing everyone a moment to be seated, Bailey began the meeting. "Okay, we all know how important it is that we catch this guy. Does anyone have anything new to add?"

George was the first to speak up, he typed several commands into his computer and pictures flashed up onto the screen in front of the table. "The latest victim was Nikki Marie Walker. She was nine years old, and had been missing since she disappeared from her house three days ago, or two days before she was found. There was no sign of forced entry at the house, same as the other two." As he spoke, a school picture of Nikki Walker, complete with missing front teeth smiled down at them. It was followed with photos of the Walker's suburban two story house, house and the all-too-familiar alley from the night before.

When George finished his report, it was Grace who spoke next. "The autopsy revealed very similar results when compared to the previous two. There was actually very little trauma to the victim, like before. She appeared to have been smothered within twelve hours of the discovery of the body." Grace shook her head sadly as she spoke. "My best guess would be he used a pillow, possibly while she was asleep or drugged. By the time we found the body, any drugs would have broken down in the body."

"Okay," Bailey said. "Sam, do you have any thoughts?"

John glanced over at Sam when Bailey asked his question. He knew it upset her that she couldn't make one of her surprising leaps that might allow another little girl to avoid being kidnaped and murdered. He watched, concerned, as she slowly let out a long breath before speaking.

"I can't explain why, but I get the impression that our killer believes he is helping the girls in someway. It's like he feels that he is setting them free. I don't think there is a pattern as to which girl he chooses each time. It's possible he watches the local schools. George, could there be a connection in which school each of the victims went to?"

"Just a sec," George answered. A few seconds later, a map appeared up on the screen with markers on two different locations. "According to records, the first and third victims both attended Westside Elementary. The second was a student at LeMay Elementary, which is only a few miles away from Westside."

Sam studied the map before she continued. "Okay, there is the possibility that he is going back and forth between the two, or is selecting schools in that vicinity. George, could you mark the locations of other elementary schools in, say, a five-mile radius?" George nodded, and a few seconds later, three more blue dots appeared on the map.

"Who woulda thought Atlanta had so many elementary schools." John commented. When he received a look from Bailey to shut-up unless he had something useful to add, he backed down.

"Bailey, I'd suggest having regular patrols of police officers at these schools, concentrating on LeMay. We should also be able to assume that our killer lives in that area, especially considering that no one saw the girls after they were taken or before they were left. I still feel as if there is something we're not seeing."

Bailey cleared his throat, "All right people. Let's go back over what we do have. Nathan, what do you have from the first victim?"

Nathan thumbed through some paperwork before asking George to key up the photos of the first victim. "Okay. Diana Jo Norton. She was ten years old. Lived with her parents, John and Sue Norton in a split level house on East Peach Avenue. Both parents were in the house the night she disappeared, and neither heard anything. She was discovered missing when her mother went in to check on her about nine p.m. She was noticed missing on March 17 and found on the 19th."

"John, your report on the second victim?" Bailey requested.

"Courtney Anne Howard. Eight years old. She lived with her parents, Mary and Jordan Howard. The family lived on Central Avenue, nice house. George?" John motioned for the photographs from the second victim to be shown. She had long brown hair and large hazel eyes, a typical eight year old.

"Her mother was still at the office the night she disappeared, however her father was in his study. There was a little brother asleep down the hall, but who wasn't disturbed. Her dad went to tuck her into bed and she was gone. He looked for her in the house and called the police, but no trace was found of either her or the kidnapper. That was March 28th, she was found on the 30th, two days later."

Bailey rubbed his eyes with his hands, somewhat lost himself. "And that brings us up Nikki Walker."

Tuesday, April 14
Washington, D.C.
Basement Office of Special Agents Mulder and Scully

"Mulder, do you know anyone in Atlanta?" Scully asked when she walked into the basement office, only to discover that he wasn't there. "Where'd he go?" She wondered aloud.

"Where'd who go, Scully?" Mulder walked in behind Scully, and smiled when she jumped slightly. "Looking for someone in particular?"

She rolled her eyes, although she was relieved that Mulder was feeling well enough to be annoying again. It was a definite improvement over the day before. "The man of my dreams, Mulder. Too bad, I guess I missed him."

He moved around Scully to sit down behind his desk. "Ha, ha, Scully. I always did love a woman with a sense of humor. Too bad you don't have one." His tone was flat, but the grin on his face was unmistakable. "So, what's up?"

Scully pulled out a folder from the stack of papers she had brought back to the office. "This is what's up, Mulder. I ran the dates and descriptions you gave me through the database. I found something, quite, disturbing."

"You found something in the Bureau database about my dreams? Wait a minute, why did you even think to look there anyway? You usually don't make jumps like that. I mean they were just dreams after all." He watched as Scully pulled out several individual pieces of paper from the manila folder. The fact that something might come of his nightmares bothered him, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to harass Scully just a little.

Scully, for her part, just sighed. "It must be your amazing tutelage, Mulder. You're finally rubbing off on me. Seriously though, it just sounded like a bit of a stretch. And after the paper hearts case, well, I decided to play a hunch. The sad part is it played out." Mulder looked up at her, confusion playing across his features. Silently, he encouraged her to go on. "According to the information in the database, a string of kidnapings occurred in Atlanta. The dates overlap, Mulder."

Handing him the files, she continued. "You had dreams for four days at a time. Each time you did, one day after they began a girl was kidnaped. Each time when your dreams stopped, the same girl was found that night. Each was strangled and left in alleys across western Atlanta." As he scanned the information, Mulder felt his heart constrict. As much as he hated the nightmares, he never considered they might have such a gruesome connection.

Scully, for her part, was concerned about how Mulder would take the information for a slightly different reason. It was the similarity to Samantha's abduction that was nagging at her. She worried how Mulder might take it, if they were to become somehow involved in the investigation. Mulder, however, was already a step ahead of her. "Bailey Malone is listed as the Agent in charge. It's this Sam Waters that is familiar. I've read about the Jack-Of-All-Trades killer. She's supposed to be pretty good. I wonder if Skinner would scream too loudly about us flying down to Atlanta for a few days?"

Seeing the look in his eyes, Scully knew it was already too late. He was already determined to go to Atlanta, no matter how many pieces he fell into if another girl died. And she knew, without question, that it would be her he turned to when his world crumbled around their feet. A familiar if unfortunate pattern to repeat as often as they did.

"All right, Mulder. I'll back you on this one. Let's get a flight to Atlanta and contact Agent Malone before going to see Skinner. Then we can go home and pack. It's your turn to drive to the airport, you know. So you can pick me up an hour and a half before our flight." She could tell by the look on his face that he was somewhat surprised to win so easily. He nodded silently, and picked up his telephone to call the travel agency.

Scully, meanwhile, called the number listed for Bailey Malone at the Violent Crimes Task Force. After several rings, she was met with a gruff "Malone."

"Agent Malone? This is Agent Dana Scully in D.C. My partner and I might be able to help you in the case you're currently working on."

"Help, Agent Scully? Do you have some information?" Bailey was confused to say the least, as to how an agent in Washington might have anything valuable to their investigation.

Scully closed her eyes briefly. It was in moments like these that she understood what Mulder went through on a daily basis. "Yes. My partner, Agent Mulder, has an angle on your investigation. We've arranged a flight to Atlanta and would like to assist your team."

Malone paused, she could hear him exhale loudly on the other end of the connection. "Agent Scully, really, we appreciate the offer, but . . . Wait. Mulder, as in Fox Mulder?"

"Yes."

She held her breath when Agent Malone didn't respond initially. "Your partner, Agent Scully, I've heard of him. He has a reputation for impressive leaps of logic, doesn't he? Maybe if he and Sam worked together . . . "

"Agent Malone, Mulder mentioned knowing of Dr. Waters. We're hoping that maybe we could help you solve the case. It's possible fresh eyes might see something previously overlooked. There is also another angle that is a bit complicated to go into over the phone."

"Okay, Agent Scully. I'll have Agent Grant pick you up at the airport. He can fill you in on any questions you might have on the ride to the Command Center. Do you have your flight times yet?"

Scully looked over to where Mulder was reading through the paperwork she had laid on his desk about the abductions. Covering the mouthpiece, she asked, "Mulder, did you get our flight times? I need to tell Agent Malone when to expect us."

Mulder read the scribbled note in front of him, and responded. "Seven fifteen, tonight. American flight 623." She repeated the information over the phone and hung up.

"Now the hard part," Scully said. "Now we have to tell Skinner."

Tuesday, April 14
Atlanta, Georgia
Atlanta International Airport

For the fifth time in as many minutes John looked down at his watch, cursing under his breath. He knew something was up when Bailey called him into his office that afternoon. As far as he was concerned, they didn't need a couple of D.C. agents coming to Atlanta to breathe down their necks about not having the case solved. What added insult to injury was that he was forced to play cabdriver to them. Again looking at his watch and the monitor listing arrival times, he sunk into one of the molded chairs. Ten minutes late and counting.

Fifteen minutes later, the passengers of flight 623 began debarking. John was particularly aggravated by the fact he didn't know what they looked like, only that it was a man and a woman. Scanning the business attired travelers, his gaze fell onto a pair that fit the bill. Standing and moving to meet the pair, he asked, "Agents Scully, Mulder?" When each nodded their heads, he continued. "I'm John Grant, Bailey sent me to give you a lift to the office. The car is this direction." He gestured to the side with his arm. "Agent Scully, can I take your bags?"

She smiled, nodding her head no. "No thank you, Agent Grant. I'm fine." Mulder fought a snicker, at her insistence of being fine. Those words were so often heard coming from Dana Scully. She cut Mulder a look and he tried even harder not to laugh. John, for his part, grew curious of the partners. He could see a silent communication flying between the two of them.

A few minutes later, the three agents were nearing the parking deck. Clearing his throat, John resumed speaking. "I'm curious as to what you believe you can add to our investigation. But that aside, Bailey told me to answer any questions you might have."

It was Mulder who responded. "We've read over the information that was available in the Bureau database on this case. What would be helpful is anything that wasn't included, or anything that might not be easily included. What's your feeling about the case?" John looked over at the tall agent walking next to him, and was reminded briefly of when he first met Sam. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something about him that struck a familiar chord.

Unlocking the door to one of the team cars, he answered. "I'm not sure, exactly what you're wanting to hear, Agent Mulder. The abductions happen at random time intervals, we haven't determined a link between the victims to help us figure out how to outguess the guy." John noted the way Scully seemed to tense up at the us of the word , but continued. "Sam's at a loss. We have no warning, and a very limited time frame after they disappear. We were called in after the second girl disappeared, shortly before her body was discovered."

Having let Scully sit in the front, Mulder had been leaning forward in the back seat to listen to what John was saying. At his mention of the girls disappearing, he felt a well-known emptiness in the bottom of his stomach. Fighting the customary surge of bile in his throat, he spoke. "It's only been a day since the last girl was found, so we should have some time before it's too late . . . " He let his statement hang open-ended. Scully closed her eyes, she knew what her partner was most likely going through.

John merely agreed. "Yeah, I just hope it's enough."

Tuesday, April 14
Atlanta, Georgia
VCTF Offices

"Sam, I'd like you to meet Agents Mulder and Scully." When they had arrived at the office, most of the team was still there, even though it was far later than they usually stayed. Sam looked up from the paperwork on her desk to look at the three agents standing in the doorway to her office. Motioning for them to come in, she closed the folder.

"Sam, I've got some things to take care of in my office so I'll be there if you need me."

"Okay, Bailey. Thanks." She smiled as Bailey left her office and closed the door behind him. Returning her attention to the two still standing in her office, she gestured toward the couch. "Please have a seat. Bailey told me that you believe you might be able to help us with this case. I hate to admit it, but we are at something of a stalemate. We can't seem to get a break." She looked at the man sitting on the left, putting a face to the stories she had heard. "You're Agent Mulder?"

He nodded his head. "Yes. I know we've never met, but I do know of your reputation as a profiler, Dr. Waters."

"As I you, Mr. Mulder. And please, call me Sam." She was having a difficult time overlaying the friendly man before her with the somewhat strange rumors that circled throughout the agent ranks.

"It's just Mulder, actually." Scully watched the exchange with some interest. The two were considered among the best of the best in their field. It might be interesting to see if it lead to a profitable paring or arguing and name calling. With Mulder one could never be too sure.

"Mulder. Okay. Agent Scully, I understand you were the one who thought the two of you might be able to help us out."

She nodded, and readied herself for what might be an interesting conversation. "When Mulder described some dreams he had been having, something about them struck me as familiar." As she spoke, Mulder slightly squirmed in his seat, and found his gaze wondering about the well-kept office instead of focusing on either of the two women seated near him. "I'm still not sure where I had heard about your case, but Mulder's description triggered my memory and when I checked the dates of his dreams verses the kidnapings, they overlapped."

Sam looked from the confident woman on her right, to the almost nervous man beside her. "Dreams?" Her question rang of a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "How could you gain information from your dreams, Mulder?"

"Scully's the one who put it together," he began, glancing over at his partner. Pressing forward, he continued. "For about a month I had been having these dreams, they would persist for about four days and disappear. Each time they began the same, but integral features would change during the duration. The appearance of the girl, the type of house. By this past Monday morning, I was miserable from lack of sleep. When I told Scully why I was such a mess, she just put two and two together somehow." While still somewhat skeptical, she could see in his eyes that he truly believed what he was saying. And, she reminded herself that he was regarded as an excellent profiler, with an astonishing closure rate. Even if his methods had earned him scorn and rebuttal from within the Bureau community.

"I'm guessing the details from your dreams also corresponded with the actual murders?" Mulder nodded, but stayed silent. "So what do you think we should do now?"

It was Scully who spoke up. "It would be wise to keep the investigation running the way you have it now, you obviously know what you're doing. The one advantage our being here might provide is that the dreams that led to our involvement seem to start a day before the kidnaping."

Sam's eyes shot open at that piece of information. "Before? You mean, we might be able to know when he will strike, even if not exactly where?" To this, Scully nodded her head in agreement.

"Depending on the depth of the dream, it's possible I can tell you a description of the house." Although Mulder was all business, both could see his hesitation at having to experience another round of nightmares related to something so close to his personal history. "However, we will only get one day's advance warning. That is, if the pattern continues."

Sam felt the first surge of hope she had known since March 18th. The idea of a dream leading to the answer still appeared as something of a stretch, but for a reason she couldn't explain she felt more comfortable with Mulder's extreme means of an answer, than with others' more conventional means. "All right, the two of you are now a part of the team. Hopefully, we'll be able to catch this guy before you have to experience another session of nightmares courtesy of our killer." Mulder blinked at her seeming ability to read his fear after such a short time. "But right now, it's late. I believe that Bailey has arranged for you to have two hotel rooms nearby, and I'll be glad to drop you off since it's so late."

Scully recognized the signs in Sam that she often saw in her partner, the mark of many sleepless nights. It piqued her curiosity about the profiler. She felt more confident that the pairing of the two profilers temporarily might not be such a horrible experience after all. "That's not necessary, Dr. Waters. We can drive ourselves, if we had access to a vehicle."

Sam smiled at Scully's insistence of being polite. "Really, it's not problem. And as I said, it's Sam, Agent Scully. We'll get you a car tomorrow, and Bailey or I will pick you up in the morning."

Scully was again pleasantly surprised by the informal atmosphere that so quickly developed between the three agents. She could only dream of such a transition with most of the other agents they worked with. Having "Spooky" Mulder for a partner did have its detractions. "What do ya say, Scully? Be chauffeured tonight and then back to the regular grind tomorrow?" She was relieved to see the grin cross her partner's face.

"You might not consider it such a grind if you ever let me drive, Mulder." Scully's voice carried from where she and Mulder were walking toward Bailey's office.

Sam smiled, listening to the banter that played between the partners. She too was surprised by how well the meeting had went. When Bailey had told her of Scully's phone call, she hadn't been sure what to think. What she had heard about the agents who manned the X-Files, as they were referred to, had been rumors of being difficult to work with, moody and just plain 'out-there'. At the time she had wondered just what the clinical definition of 'out-there' was. Thus, the people she had met that night led her to believe maybe it wasn't such a bad thing allowing the outside help, after all.

Having packed up the papers she wanted to take home, she closed her office door and started to walk toward Bailey's office. Before she walked five steps she was intercepted by John. "Hey, John. What's up?"

He pulled her over to his desk where they could talk. "How are you doing, Sam?" She could see concern in his eyes, and felt her heart melt a bit. Grace had once mentioned that she thought Sam and John would make a nice couple, but Sam had laughed it off. It was in moments like this, when she felt her resolve soften some. Since Tom, intimate emotional feelings were something she tried not to allow herself. Her one mistake had been Coop, and she refused to allow a similar situation to develop with John.

"I'm fine, John. I'm just frustrated that we haven't made any headway on this case. These are just little girls we're talking about. No one deserves this." For just a moment she allowed her control walls to crumble. Talking to John had at some point become second-nature.

He nodded and pulled her into a warm embrace, she felt as if she might actually be able to feel strength radiate from him into her. John, on the other hand, believed the exact opposite. He had often been amazed by the stores of strength she held within. Pulling out of the hug, he whispered. "We're going to get this guy. Don't forget that."

Nodding, she commented. "Until tonight I was beginning to worry. But after talking to Mulder and Agent Scully, I have the feeling something's about to turn our way."

Confused, John sat on the edge of his desk. "What do these two hotshots have that's so great? I mean, they fly down here out of the blue, and all of a sudden, we're saved?" Sam recognized the mix of sarcasm and annoyance that laced John's words.

"Don't look at it that way, John. I was just talking to them, and honestly, I get the feeling they be a great help. It's very complicated, and somewhat unusual so just trust me until tomorrow's meeting and then judge for yourself. All right?" He looked deep within her blue eyes and knew he had no reason not to trust her. She was one of the few people whose instincts he had learned to trust as much as his own. If Sam thought they could help, he would at least give them a chance.

She could see the gears in John's head cranking, and waited patiently to hear his response. "Okay, Sam. I'll give them a chance." She smiled, knowing how stubborn he could be. "Now," he added, "don't you need to get home to that adorable daughter of yours?"

Sam squeezed his hand softly, "Thanks, John. Thanks for always being there." As she walked away, he had to remind himself to wipe the large smile off his face.

Sam knocked on Bailey's office door, and entered to find both he and Mulder laughing and Scully trying very hard to look annoyed. Only she wasn't quite pulling it off. As it was, Sam could recognize a tension breaker when she saw one. "What's so funny?" She asked with a smile.

"You probably don't want to know," Scully admitted with a smile.

"Ah, one of those types, huh?" At that both she and Scully laughed, with Bailey and Mulder exchanging looks of what just happened?

"I'm ready to head out, if the three of you are finished." Bailey nodded his head, and sat back down behind his desk. "So, Bay, what hotel am I taking these two to? The Ritz, right?" She laughed both at her own joke, and the partners reaction.

"Uh-huh. You know it," Bailey answered the bait. "The penthouse."

Mulder's eyes flickered recognition, and he decided to play along. "Does this mean I get to buy the pay-per-views on the tab?"

"Pay-per-view? Is that what they are calling the things you watch these days, Mulder? I can imagine someone's getting paid, but not for viewing anything." Sam shook her head, still amused by the relationship between the partners.

"Ah, anyway. Hate to interrupt the fun, folks, but it's the Ramada over on South Lakewood."

The three of them watched as Bailey began sorting through the papers on his desk. "Bay, don't you think you should head home too? Go see Frances. The two of you are still getting along okay, right?"

Bailey smiled. "Yes, Sam. Things are going okay. I'll be out of here soon enough. We're all putting in long hours because of this case. You should take your own advise and spend some time with Chloe. It will be close to her bedtime by the time you get back to the firehouse." Sam nodded, and led the two agents with her out of his office and toward the parking deck.

After the short drive to the hotel, Sam pulled up to the hotel and killed the engine. "Here we are. You should be all set if you just go into the office and give them your names."

As Scully was getting out of the car, she commented. "Wow, Mulder. This is way beyond the usual rat-trap flea bags we stay in. They might even have all the lights working."

"Just keep talking Scully, keep talking. Next time I'm going to make you deal with the hotels when we're on a case. Fun, it ain't." Mulder took both of their bags from the trunk of Sam's car and Scully pushed it closed.

Sam handed Scully a card with both her office, cell and home phone number written on it. "If you need to get in touch with me for any reason, one of these should find me. In the morning, call me about seven and we'll work out who will pick you up. See you in the morning!" Sam waited until they had entered the hotel office, and pulled out of the parking spot. Ever-mindful of the agents shadowing her until she reached the firehouse, she pulled out onto the nearly empty streets and headed home.

Wednesday, April 15
Atlanta, Georgia
Ramada Hotel, South Lakewood Drive

Mulder knocked on the door separating his room from Scully's adjoining one. He waited a couple of minutes until he heard her muffled, "Come in, Mulder." He opened the door and looked around for Scully, finally deciding she was in the bathroom. Sitting down on the end of the bed, he waited on her to finish.

When she emerged from the bathroom, he couldn't help but pick on her a bit. "This is a switch, Scully. Usually it's you having to wait on me to get ready. Have an excuse?"

Pulling on a black pump she responded, "Anything to give you a reason to harass me, I suppose." Her tone was snappish, but the glint in her eyes revealed all he needed to know about her intent. "Why don't you call Sam about a ride to the office. I'd like to get as much of a head start on this as we can."

Mulder nodded in agreement, and pulled the business card she had given them the night before out of his wallet. He grabbed the phone by the bedside and punched in a nine followed by the seven digits. After two rings, a female answered, but he was pretty sure it wasn't Sam. "Hello?"

"Yes, I was trying to reach Dr. Sam Waters . . . "

"May I ask who is this is?" Mulder could hear the hostility in her voice, and wondered if this was just a daily part of her life.

"My name is Fox Mulder. My partner and I were supposed to call Sam about a ride into the office this morning." He figured he might as well give who ever this was the whole story, seeing as how she determined if he spoke directly with Sam.

"Agent Mulder. Okay, yeah Sam said you would be calling. I'll go get her, hold on a minute." When he heard the phone being placed down, he realized that she had spoken so quickly that he couldn't have gotten in a word edgewise.

Mulder could hear the receiver being picked up, and was greeted by Sam's more familiar voice. "Mulder. Hi. You're ready I take it?"

"Yeah. Well, I am. Scully's taking her time over here." At that remark, Mulder found himself on the receiving end of a shoe being tossed across at him. He ducked, and continued speaking. "Seriously, though. We're ready as soon as you or Agent Malone are."

Sam laughed at the muffled noise on the other end of the line, and could guess that Mulder's comment had earned some payback. "Okay, great. I'm just fixing to leave and I'll be by to pick you up in about twenty minutes. Sound okay?"

"Sounds fine, we'll be downstairs waiting. See you then."

"Bye, Mulder." He hung up the phone and walked back over into his own room to get his jacket. He dreaded the morning meeting they were fixing to have to attend. Thanks to the jokes and jabs, it had been possible to at least push the haunting memory of the murders and dreams into a corner of his mind. But there was nothing that could drive them away entirely. Still he knew that what mattered was catching this guy.

"Mulder? Time to go." He heard Scully call out to him from in her room, and he shrugged into his jacket. Time to face the day, he figured.

Wednesday, April 15
Atlanta, Georgia
VCTF Offices

Sam, Mulder and Scully arrived at the Command Center five minutes before the scheduled morning meeting. Here they were supposed to brief the other agents on Mulder's dreams and how they could help the investigation. After a quick trip to her office, Sam came in and took her usual seat next to John. Two extra seats had been pulled up to the center table to Sam's left, and Mulder and Scully sat in them.

Bailey began the meeting as usual. "The good news is we haven't had any reported missing children in the past day. The bad news is we're still no closer to guessing who we're looking for or how to find him. We've been joined by Agents Scully and Mulder, from Washington to help in this investigation. Sam?" It had been decided that the rest of the team might take it better if Mulder's dreams were explained by Sam initially.

"We're still stuck, but if it comes down to another abduction, we might have some warning this time. We were contacted by Agent Scully when she linked a series of nightmares that Agent Mulder had with the dates and events of this particular series of murders. The possible advantage is that these dreams always started a day before each abduction. It's a stretch, but for the moment it's our best option to avoid another death if we can't catch him before he strikes again."

"Agent Mulder," Nathan began. "Do you have anyway of knowing ahead of time when these nightmares might occur?"

Clearing his throat, Mulder responded. "Not any more so that anyone does of when he will strike again. I know when I wake up from the first of the nightmares. So far, they've been somewhat detailed about what the little girls looked like, and what type of house."

"But if you've been having these dreams since the first murder," John questioned, "why wait until now to come to try and help?" Sam glanced over at where John was sitting and silently willed him to try to cooperate. "Why not before the third little girl was murdered? Or the second?"

"I didn't know what I was seeing, Mr. Grant. It's not often one's dreams can assist in solving a serial murder case. I hadn't heard about this case until Agent Scully made the connection in the dates and details. As soon as we knew what we might be looking at, we called you. The last thing I want is for any little girl to suffer like that. Her or her family." John saw the shadows that lurked in Mulder's eyes and backed down somewhat. He had the feeling that Mulder was speaking of something beyond this investigation, something he had a personal connection to.

Meanwhile, as Mulder was speaking, Scully was hoping he could hold his temper. He was used to being questioned at his every move, that wasn't what bothered her. It was being almost accused to allowing two small girls to be taken from their homes and killed. Of all people, Mulder understood how the consequences of such an event could affect those involved. It was a relief when she saw recognition of this flash across Grant's eyes.

"Until you have another dream we just wait?" Nathan asked.

Bailey shook his head. "No, we continue with the investigation the way we were before Scully called. George, would you pull up the elementary school map again? This is what we were looking at yesterday morning. Since then, we've put plain clothes cops on patrol around the schools concentrating on recess and bus arrivals and departures. Our thought was that he would return to LeMay Elementary, if he is indeed following a pattern."

When the meeting ended each of the agents left the table, heading back to their desks. "I hate feeling helpless," John muttered.

Mulder stood saying, "I'm with ya there."

Sunday, April 19
Atlanta, Georgia
Ramada Hotel, South Lakeside Drive

The case hadn't progressed as fast as anyone would have liked. The longer they went not only without catching the killer, but without even a suspect the more likely the press was going to explode. It was a small miracle they had managed to keep it out of the public eye as well as they had.

After another late night at the Command Center, Mulder had gone back to the hotel while Scully had gone back to the firehouse with Sam to go through some paperwork. Days of searching and late nights had lead to no leads what so ever. As he sat with his head leaning against the wall staring blankly at the television, he felt inclined to hit his head against the wall. He felt as Sam did, that there was something he was missing. Something small, but so important it would crack the case wide open if one of them could just put their finger on it.

As was the pattern he'd developed, he spent part of the evening recapping the case in his mind. Maybe tonight, he thought, would be when he saw what they'd missed. So far, there had been four previous maybe tonights and he was no closer than he had been Wednesday night. The case was truly a lesson in the aggravating. Not only could they not discern how he managed to get into the three houses undetected, but how had no one seen him with the girls or why no one had noticed him dumping the bodies. As the case continued, Mulder found it harder and harder to not think about Samantha. The photos of the girls could easily turn into her in Mulder's mind's eye.

He knew that Scully was concerned about his ability to distance himself from the crime in cases such as these. Mulder had seen some of the looks she was throwing his way, especially the night she had caught him at two a.m. up reading one Courtney Howard's files. It hadn't been lost on Scully that she was the only eight year old of the group, and the closest to Samantha in appearance as well.

Mulder was torn between being relieved he had yet to have anymore nightmares, and wanting to catch the guy. He knew their best shot came just after he had his next nightmare, because of the information it could provide. Sighing, he tapped his head against the wall lightly, trying to get the urge to do some real damage out of his head. He tried concentrating on the fifties science fiction movie that was flickering on the screen, but he had seen it a dozen times and had lost interest long ago.

The clock read 12:15 a.m. and he longed to get some sleep. He considered calling Scully to see how things were going over at the firehouse but decided against it. Maybe amidst the work they were trying to accomplish she could loosen up a bit and try to relax. He knew Sam needed to relax as badly as any of them, as well. Clicking off the lamp beside his bed, he picked up the remote and started channel surfing. It was his way of going about a little stress relief, by taking out the frustration on the rubberized buttons of the control.

The television was still on when he finally drifted off to sleep.

Early Monday, April 20
Atlanta, Georgia
Firehouse Residence of Sam and Chole Waters

"He didn't?" Sam asked when Scully finished talking.

"Seriously, he did. Here we are on our first assignment, and he's screaming we've lost nine minutes and painting a giant X on the blacktop. Needless to say, by then I was pretty sure he was certifiable." She laughed, recalling something that happened so long ago, and earmarked a new part of her life. "Still, I had my quirks on that case, too."

Sam laughed, she had forgotten how nice it felt to laugh easily. "Do tell, Scully."

"Oh, not right now. I think I would like to keep some of my professional integrity intact. Well, what's left of it after five years in the X-Files anyway," she laughed. "By the way, you can call me Dana. Mulder is the only one who has ever called me Scully."

Sam nodded, "All right, Dana. You know, this hasn't been too bad. I think we both needed something of a breather from this case. I just can't believe we can't seem to find a weak spot anywhere. Maybe it's good you are here, it's like we have a ghost on our hands."

"Of everything I've investigated in the X-Files, I don't recall that many ghosts," Scully smiled weakly. "This is just a case of an even worse freak of nature, I'm afraid. Sometimes, I wish I could get inside his head, like you or Mulder might. Just to try and see what makes him tick."

Shaking her head, Sam remarked, "That's just what's so strange about this case. I can't really get inside his head. Usually I'm more concerned with getting out in time, but this time I can't find the door at all. From the discussions we've had this week, neither can Mulder. However, why is it I get the feeling this is somehow more personal to him that he's letting on?"

For a moment, Scully considered whether or not she should reveal to Sam the reason Mulder took these kinds of abduction cases so seriously. She started not to, but after a moments hesitation went ahead. She thought it might help the case in some way, and she knew Mulder trusted Sam as much as he was able to trust anyone other than herself. "It was his sister," she stated silently hoping Mulder would forgive her transgression.

"What?" Sam asked seriously, uncertain of where her statement was leading.

"Mulder's sister, Samantha. She was abducted when she was eight and Mulder was twelve. She was never found, and he has spent his life blaming his self for not saving her. Cases like this are always personal to him. There's been more than once I've pulled him back from the brink of madness practically, because of this guilt. When he looks at those little girls, he sees her. Maybe that's why it was him of all people that started having the nightmares."

For a moment Sam just sat speechless. There was little she could say to Dana's statement. She had felt since she first met him that Mulder had a ulterior motive, a more personal one, for seeing this case solved. Now she knew why.

"It's what motivates almost everything he does. That is what defined Mulder as the man he is. It's sad in a way, not only was his sister's childhood ripped away, so was his own. His father blamed him, and he in turn blamed himself." Scully realized she had been rambling somewhat, and not even about her own life's story. Although, his life concerned her as much as her own did. "He is the best friend I never knew possible, and the most important person in my life."

Curiosity got the better of Sam when she asked, "Are the two of you involved romantically?"

"No, although rumors to that effect abound in the Hoover Building grapevine."

"I wasn't sure, but there is something. The two of you have a connection, I've watched how you seem to communicate without words at moments. I'd almost say you were something like soul mates. I hope you don't mind my asking, but do you wish it romantic?" Sam watched her closely as she sought out the right way to phrase her answer.

"Honestly, no. It's hard to explain, but the bond we seem to share isn't defined by such, limited, terms. It's sounds somewhat corny I'd guess you'd say, but I think we were meant to be just friends. In the closest, truest sense of the term possible."

Sam was quiet for a moment, contemplating what Dana had just said before she responded. "It sounds like you've found one of the kinds of relationships we all look for. Only not everyone is so lucky to find them, are they?"

"Don't sound so down," Dana interrupted. "I've see the way one particular agent looks at you when he thinks no one is looking. I would say he's quite head over heels if I've read the situation right." Sam's eyes widened as she listened to what she was saying. "And, I'd say the feeling was mutual from your end, too." A sly smile had found its way back onto Dana's face as she finished speaking.

"It can't be that obvious, can it?" Scully merely gave her an innocent look and waited on her to continue in her own time. "I've known for awhile that I cared for John. I've not paid attention to what he might be feeling because I can't allow myself to fall in love with him."

"Mulder told me about Jack, Sam. I can't imagine living with quite such a threat. However, should you really pass up such a chance out of fear? John obviously cares very deeply for you. It's in his eyes." Scully's voice had taken on almost a whisper-like quality toward the end.

Sam could see the logic in what Dana was saying, yet that logic was locked in a battle with the overwhelming dread she felt at the possibility of losing someone else she loved so dearly. "Is love really worth it, Dana?"

Recalling Emily's face, Dana didn't hesitate in her answer. "Yes. I think you think so to, somewhere deep down. Love is where the hope is."

Both were startled when Scully's cell phone rang quietly, interrupting the conversation. Pulling the phone out of her bag, she punched send. "Scully."

Muffled breath filled the ear piece and for a moment Scully was confused. After a mere moment, it hit her who it was. "Mulder?" The breathing was steady, but she had yet to get a verbal answer. Sam watched as the color seemed to drain from Dana's face. "Mulder? Talk to me, what's wrong?"