Title: Breathe 
Author: Xenith
Feedback: Oh yes! Lots of it!! Lots and Lots!!!
xenitha@yahoo.com 
Date: Sat, 29 Mar 2003 
Rating:PG 
Classification: XFile
Keywords: M/Sc/Sk friendship 
Disclaimer: The XFiles and all the characters belong
to Chris Carter. This story is written in homage to a
fine series, intended to keep the flame alive until CC
gets us the next XF movie!
Spoilers: None, but takes place assuming seasons 8 and
9 never happened.
Archive: Sure! But e-mail me first. 

Summary: When Skinner's infant goddaughter dies, he, Mulder and
Scully set out to investigate reports of a cat sucking babies' breath.

***

Monday morning
2 a.m.

Skinner fumbled for the phone in the dark room. He
squinted, where were the damned glasses? There... 2
a-fuckin'-m in the...

"H'lo?" He mumbled, trying to keep the phone in his
hand. If this was Mulder calling about some asinine
case of his he'd chew him a new asshole...

"Walt? It's Matt. Look, I'm sorry about the time but I
had to call you. I...I need your help. Shelley's
dead."

Skinner's eyes opened wide and he snapped on the
bedside light. "What? What happened? She's only a year
old! She wasn't sick or anything?"

"No. At least not that we knew. They're calling it
crib death; there's been a lot of it lately. Six...no,
Shelley makes seven...kids have died over the past
year in this town and nobody can figure out why. The
Feds have been out here for three months and keep
telling us some crap, that it's a statistical bubble,
all a coincidence; they've tested the water, the soil,
the air, everything..." The voice trailed off.

"Shit. Matt, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?
I'll be on the next plane out," Skinner sat up and
grabbed a pen, beginning to make a list of things to
pack...things to do...

"Well...um...that's why I called. You told me once
that you supervise some kinda ghostbuster squad? Some
agents that deal with weird shit?"

Skinner set the pen down and frowned. "I do have some
agents who specialize in, ah, unusual cases. Is there
something odd about what happened to Shelley?"

"The cops just laughed it off and the CDC guy hung up
on me. She...died...last night and I'm the one who
found her. I opened the door to her room and I could
swear, it was dark but not that dark, y'know? I could
swear I saw a cat crouched over her and...and...and it
looked like it was drinking the breath out of her! I
ran over to her crib and she wasn't breathing, so I
started mouth to mouth and CPR. By the time the
paramedics were there and the cops, the cat or
whatever it was had disappeared. I don't know how it
got in, or out." 

Skinner was silent for a moment, his eyes closed.

"Walt, I know this is really weird, but you have to
believe me. I'm not making this up!"

"No, I believe you Matt. I'll take the next flight out
and have my two best agents with me. We'll find out
what happened."

***

Monday
4:00 a.m.

The phone shrilled over the soft moaning from the t.v.
set. Mulder grabbed it off the coffee table. "Y'uhh?"
He rubbed his eyes and watched the two guys on the
screen really turning on the busty blonde.

"Mulder? Is that you? What's that noise?" The blonde
had started to squeal with delight as Mulder hastily
grabbed the remote and hit the mute button.

"Nothing. The neighbors. What's up, sir?"

"I have an important case for you and Scully. Meet me
at the office in an hour. Be on time."

The phone clicked before Mulder could answer it.

***

5:00 a.m.

"So what kind of bee do you suppose Skinner has up his
ass on this fine Monday morning?" Mulder sipped
gingerly at the Starbucks vente he'd picked up on the
way in. "Calling us in this early, the aliens better
have landed on the White House lawn."

"Or maybe they landed on Skinner's lawn," Scully
looked entirely too awake this early, linen suit
neatly pressed and makeup perfect. Mulder felt rumpled
next to her.

Nobody was in the bullpen yet and the secretary's desk
was vacant but they could see light leaking from the
half closed door of Skinner's office.

"You asked to see us, sir?" Scully gingerly pushed
open the door to Skinner's office.

Skinner was looking even grimmer than usual. He looked
up expectantly and motioned them to seats. "Take a
seat. I'll be right with you." He carefully folded
what looked like a letter on blue stationery, then
tucked it into an envelope and laid it carefully on
the desk. He took a breath then looked up at his
agents.

"Thanks for coming in this early," he pulled off his
glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I have a new
file for you." Replacing the glasses, he picked a
folder off the desk and handed it to Scully then
leaned back into his chair. She opened it and began
reading, Mulder craning his neck to see.

"I don't understand, sir. I can see that this involves
a cluster of apparent crib deaths over a one year
period. I don't see how this would be an X-file." She
lifted an eyebrow. "And I see that the CDC has already
investigated and found that it's a statistical
variation; no evident causes."

Mulder took the file and began riffling through it,
his brow wrinkling.

Skinner leaned forward and cleared his throat. "Just
because the CDC hasn't found a cause doesn't mean
there isn't one. Over the past year, seven families in
the town of Potterville have lost infants. The most
recent death occurred two days ago and the child who
died was my goddaughter. Her father tells me that just
before he found her dead in her crib, he thought he
saw an animal of some kind leaning over her and
apparently...drinking in her breath."

Skinner met their eyes somberly. "He says he thinks it
was a cat but can't be sure. He chased it away from
the crib and was so busy administering CPR to his
daughter that he never noticed what happened to the
animal."

"And that's why this is an X-File?" Mulder asked
softly. "There are legends..."

"Old wives tales, invented to explain SIDS before
modern medicine..."Scully trailed off nervously.

"Legends that describe cats stealing the breath out of
babies," Mulder added. "Maybe the old wives were onto
something?" He closed the file.

"Sir, we're sorry for your loss and we'll be on a
plane as soon as possible."

"Don't worry, I already have our tickets," Skinner
opened the desk drawer and handed eticket printouts to
the agents. "I'll be going as well. Shelley's funeral
is tomorrow. Our plane leaves at 2 p.m."

***

Monday
7 p.m. EST
Flight 472 to San Francisco

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Scully whispered
to Mulder. "I've never seen Skinner this upset."

Mulder's jaws moved against the sunflower seed he'd
pulled from his pocket. "I have," he spat the shell
into his napkin. "Don't worry. He is, if anything,
more effective when he feels strongly about something.
I remember the last time Skinner was this motivated,"
he smiled at her ruefully. "You wouldn't..." He
gestured to the book tucked into the seat pocket. "We
really should be reading up on our case..."

"Animal Legends and Myths by Jeremiah
Wilkins...Mulder, you have got to be kidding. These
deaths are perfectly explainable, probably by
something mundane. There has never been a recorded
instance of a cat murdering an infant by 'stealing its
breath'. Regardless of what my Aunt Martha used to
say." The last was muttered softly.

Mulder grinned, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that. Your
Aunt Martha used to say something?"

She sighed. "My Great-Aunt Martha if we're being
exact. When she used to come and visit, she'd chase
our cat out of the house and insisted it not be in any
of our bedrooms.

She didn't want it harming any of the children, she
said. Of course, this is the same aunt who also put
bowls of milk on the porch every night for the little
people."

"And I'll bet the milk was always gone by morning,"
Mulder deadpanned.

"Every time."

***

Monday
9:00 p.m. EST
Flight 472 to San Francisco

Scully slept in the window seat, slumped against
Mulder's shoulder, her soft snoring tickling his ear.
Mulder studied Skinner's profile in the darkened
cabin. Even in a full flight, Skinner had managed to
get both Mulder and himself aisle seats across from
each other. Mulder appreciated the added leg room.

Skinner hadn't said much during the flight, although
he occasionally studied the letter on blue stationery.
"Penny for your thoughts, sir," Mulder said softly.

Skinner jerked and looked up from the page, "Oh,
sorry, I must have been somewhere else."

"Something important?" Mulder nodded at the letter.

Skinner sighed and handed it across the aisle to him.
"Only to me. This is the last letter Matt and Alex
sent me, just after Shelley's christening. She had red
hair, just like her mother.....They tried for five
years to have a child and Shelley was a miracle when
she arrived. And now this." Skinner shook his head.
"I've known Matt since 'Nam," he smiled. "He married a
cute redhead a few years ago; Alex is a lot younger
than he is but she's crazy about him. She's a great
match for him, no nonsense, very organized. She's the
town librarian." He smiled. "She's a bit like Scully."

Mulder looked over the letter and let the enclosed
photo drop into his hand. A mischievous little face
smeared with chocolate frosting grinned up at him, her
red curls stringy with still more frosting. The letter
said:
"Hey Walt, I thought I'd drop you a line and show you
Shelley's latest photo. Too bad you couldn't make it
to her first birthday party; we all missed Uncle Walt,
but she missed you the most. She loved the teddy bear
you sent and has been dragging it all over the house
since she opened it. You're sure it's washable? I hope
so, because God knows what it's picked up in her
travels. Hope you can make it out here the next time
you're on the left coast..."

Skinner took the letter that Mulder handed back to him
and put it into his pocket. "I can't accept that this
is just another instance of crib death. Matt is just
broken up about it," he shook his head. Alex is still
on sedatives, so Matt made all the arrangements."

***

Monday
8:45 PM PST (11:45 PM, EST)

"There's the exit for Potterville," Scully clutched
the map and peered through the heavy fog. "You can't
see much out there."

"I thought they only had fogs like that in the
movies," Mulder commented from the back seat. "Whoa,
is that the welcome mat?"

As Skinner took a hard right off the highway they
could see a big sign that said "Welcome to
Potterville, Catlovers' Haven. All felines welcome!
Sponsored by the Potterville KatKlub(tm)."

"Matt told me once that the town was founded by a
bunch of eccentrics, now I believe it," Skinner
muttered. "I'd forgotten about that."

"Cats again.  Hey!...watch out!" Scully yelped as two
dark shapes skittered across the road in front of them
and vanished into the fog.

Skinner braked frantically as the car skidded and slid
into a ditch. The three sat thoughtfully as the engine
died and the car settled gently into rest.

"You were saying?" Skinner said drily. "Well, we'd
better call for a tow and see how far from town we
are. Can you get your doors open?"

Skinner's door opened on grassy embankment, as did
Scully's. Mulder took a careful step and found himself
knee deep in scummy water. He sloshed his way up the
side of the road and joined the others on the pavement
where Skinner was surveying the area by flashlight.
Mulder couldn't see anything but fog. More fog. Dark
fog. Light fog. Fog. And, barely, Scully standing next
to him.

"Mulder, where are y...phew!" Scully wrinkled her
nose. "What did you step in?"

"Probably some of the local sewage. Nothing to worry
about, It'll wash off," Mulder vainly scrubbed at his
shoes with his handkerchief but the smell just didn't
go away. "The report said the CDC cleared the water?"

"Ack..cough...Yeah. They didn't implicate it in the
deaths. It's probably manure from the local fields
added to runoff," Scully grimaced.

Skinner interrupted, "I got through the auto club. The
nearest garage doesn't open till morning. They said
our best bet is to walk in to town and have the car
towed in the morning," Skinner pocketed the cell, then
his nose wrinkled. "Mulder, what happened to you?"

"Nothing. Just a little sewage runoff."

Skinner shook his head. "Well, we'd better get
walking. Matt said that there's a motel just inside
town; I've booked rooms for us there." He looked
askance at Mulder. "We ought to get some dry clothes
for you out of the car...no, maybe not. We can
retrieve our luggage in the daylight."

Skinner took the lead and the three set out down the
empty road.

Mulder squelched glumly along behind. He couldn't
blame Skinner for not wanting to crawl down that
embankment and maybe get a mouthful of sewage. Eerie
countryside, what you could see of it. The fog
shrouded everything, muffled every noise. He couldn't
even hear his own footfalls very well. Only the feel
of the asphalt pavement confirmed that he was even on
a road. He swung his own maglite to the side and
stopped when he saw one, two, no....four pairs of eyes
gleaming from the darkness. "What the...did you see
that?"

"See what?" asked Skinner, turning around.

"Eyes, shining just off the road. Animal eyes," Mulder
gestured with his flashlight again but the eyes were
gone. Skinner scanned the road with his light but
there was nothing. He gave Mulder an unreadable look.
"Let's keep going."

Behind them, in the fog a group of dark figures
gathered and silently watched the three agents walk
forward toward the town.


***


Tuesday
5:30 a.m.

The fog comes in on little cat feet...no, on soft
little, velvet little kitten feet with bright eyes to
watch you...fog is so thick, so heavy, it flows into
the lungs like heavy cream and settles. Chest is
heavy... breathing through mud... Can't breathe, try
to pull the air in...breathe..

Mulder drew in a deep breath in a loud sucking wheeze
and shot upright in bed. He panted and looked wildly
around the twilit room. Motel. Oh yeah. Last night, no
early this morning Skinner had checked them in. He ran
his hand through his hair and slowly creaked his way
out of the bed, hunting for a water glass. That was a
new nightmare, not one of the old standbys.

Gulping down the water...gaaak, what a flavor...he
tugged the curtains open. Surprise! More fog. He could
barely make out the shapes of cars in a nearby parking
lot. The streetlights were still on but it didn't feel
that early. He checked the clock, 9 a.m. "Does it
always look like this?"

"Every day in winter time," Skinner's voice came from
behind him. "I found the connecting door. I'm glad
you're up, Agent Mulder." Skinner, looking like he'd
showered and shaved, was adjusting his tie.

Mulder suddenly realized that he wore nothing but his
shorts and dove for the clothes draped on the chair.
Until the smell stopped him dead. Phew! He looked at
Skinner helplessly. "I'm sorry sir but I'll have to
wait for my luggage before I can get dressed. Unless
you have some tomato juice or something for me to do
my laundry in."

Skinner stifled a smile. "I'll see what I can do. The
tow truck should be coming soon to pick me up. I'll
show him where the car is."

Mulder nodded unhappily as Skinner returned to his
room and closed the door. A few minutes later there
was a tap on the front door. "Mulder? Are you decent?"

"Scully, you know I'm always decent!"

The door opened a crack. "Mulder, you aren't even
dressed..." she caught a whiff and grimaced. "Oh,
yeah. Do you want me to go to the store and get you
some sweats or something?"

"Skinner is going to get the car pulled out, but I'd
appreciate it if you could find me something to wear
until then. And I'm hungry; I can't go out for
breakfast until I can get dressed."

Scully grinned. "Okay, okay, can't have you starving
to death. I think I spotted a store down the block.
I'll see what they have. Be back in a minute or two."
She closed the door behind her.

Great. Sitting here half naked in a cheesy motel room
in a cheesy little town with nothing to do but stare
out the window and watch...hey...what? Coming from the
fog he could see a small figure slinking toward the
building. It was dark, no, a grey striped cat stalking
it's prey. Then it pounced on a withered leaf on the
pavement. Another cat. How many cats did this town
have?

Mulder blinked. Where did it go? Must've ducked behind
something. Hmmm, he was a dog person himself, he'd
never really trusted cats. They were fascinating,
mysterious, but he'd always wondered what they were
thinking.

He leaned back into the chair. Cats. Stealing the
breath of small children. Why? What would a cat want
it for? And how did they get in? Well, that part was
simple. Doggy doors and open windows probably. Now
that he thought about it, this room was decorated in a
kitty motif. Framed picture of sadeyed kitten with
waif; cat pattern in the bedspread. Oh my God,
"Porcelain cats on the dresser? What is *with* this
place?" He had a sudden urge to run away. Anywhere.

Nothing to do but take a shower. His nose wrinkled in
the direction of the pile of soiled clothes. At least
he could get those laundered. He opened the closet and
found a small plastic bag labeled 'dry cleaning',
stuffed the suit inside and put it outside the room
door.

Now for the shower. He wandered into the bathroom,
leaving the door a crack so he'd hear if Skinner or
Scully arrived and turned the water on full. A small
dark shadow trotted from under the bed to the bathroom
door, sniffing at the steam tentatively. It was soon
joined by a second, then a third. One cat sat back
calmly on its haunches and began cleaning its paws,
the second watched Mulder intently. The third ventured
back toward Mulder's shoes and gave a loud *sniff*
when she'd gotten a snootful of eau de sewage. The
other two glared at the third and as the water stopped
they began to melt away.

What? What was that noise? Mulder turned off the tap.
"Scully? Are you back yet? Skinner?" Wrapping the
towel around his waist, he peeked out the door. Was
that a shadow moving in the corner of the room? No.
Nobody here. Door was shut. Oh, there was a tap at the
door, that must've been it.

"Mulder? Open up. It's me," Scully's voice came
through the door. He opened it gratefully and found an
embarrassed looking Scully outside. "Mulder, I didn't
find much but you'll only have to wear it until
Skinner gets the car." She gave him a surreptitious up
and down glance, then resolutely pulled her eyes away.
*Not* while they were working..."You're probably cold,
Mulder. You ought to get dressed."

"Thanks Scully, I was wondering if I was going to
spend my morning in the altogether. Did you get..."

"I got underwear, socks and a pair of cheap sneakers
too. I don't want to go near those shoes of yours.
I'll see you in the coffee shop, okay?" She handed him
the sack and enjoyed briefly as he tried to hang onto
sack and towel simultaneously, then left him to it.
Mulder gladly peeled open the sack and pulled out
undies...okay...black jeans...good...white socks...can
always use them...black sneaks...okay...and a tshirt.
A tshirt, alas in his size, it said "Welcome to
Potterville: Kitty Haven!" and had a great. Big.
Fluffy. Gray. Kitten. With a bow on it. He was gonna
kill her. After breakfast.

***

Kit-Kat Kafe
7:30 a.m.

Mulder swung open the coffee shop door and peered
through the clutter, looking for his partner. Cats.
More cats. Plush toy cats, cat statues, cat figurines,
porcelain cats, glass cats, wooden cats (painted in
bright colors). And all for sale. The pudgy woman
behind the counter beamed at him. "Can I help you sir?
I can see you're a fan of Potterville."

"Agent Dana Scully," Mulder snarled, trying vainly to
keep from baring his teeth.

"Um...uh...she's at table nine, down past the stuffed
persian and next to the crystal siamese statues..."
The woman said nothing more as Mulder pushed his way
past the postcard racks to the tables.

"Mulder! Hi! I'm over here," Scully called brightly
from her coffee and toast. He stalked over to her
booth and plunked himself down across from her. She
choked off a giggle and took a quick swig of coffee.

"I see the shirt fits. I'm sorry Mulder but at this
time of day this was all I could find at the gift
shop. It's only until Skinner gets back. And besides,"
she finished in a rush before he could blow up.
"You'll have a souvenir of the trip. And you did say
you were hungry."

"Skinner's not going to think I'm much of a manly-man
in this getup," Mulder grumbled and poured himself a
cup of coffee from the table carafe. Ahhh, good
coffee, well, maybe the day wasn't going to be so bad
after all. "Anything interesting in the local paper?"

"See for yourself," she handed him the morning edition
of the Potterville Sentinel. Screaming headlines
proclaimed, "Seventh innocent dead! Will there never
be an end?"

"Hmmm, I'd say the locals are taking it well. It
reiterates what Skinner already told us; no answers."
He reached for his cup and saw, out of the corner of
his eye, a small grey kitten watching him intently.
No, he blinked, no there wasn't. Just the shadows
under the coat rack. He shook his head and drank more
coffee.

"Ah, there you are," Skinner strode forward and
deposited himself next to Mulder. "Nice shirt," he
said drily and poured coffee into an empty cup for
himself.

"How's the car, sir?" Scully asked.

Skinner shook his head. "It's just as well we waited
till morning to get it out of the ditch. The driver
didn't even have to tow it; he just spread something
on the embankment and drove it right out."

"That was a slippery embankment. What did he use for
traction?" Scully asked.

"Kitty litter," Skinner said blandly.

***

Tuesday
9:30 a.m.
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church

"Quite a few people here," Mulder commented as Skinner
drew into the last parking space.

"Most of the town, I'd bet. It's a very small,
close-knit community." Skinner shaded his eyes. "I
think I see Matt.."

"Walt!" A tiny woman with long red hair broke from the
crowd and ran to Skinner. "Walt, Walt I'm so glad to
see you! My baby's dead...she's dead..." The woman
threw herself into Skinner's arms and started crying.

Skinner looked down in consternation, then wrapped his
arms around her. "I know, Alex, it's a terrible thing.
I'm so sorry," he said softly and held her close.

Mulder and Scully exchanged glances. After a moment
Alex drew a deep breath and looked up, sniffling.
Nodding at Skinner, she stepped back out of his arms.
"It's okay, Walt. I'm okay. It's just that the last
time you were here..." She stopped herself and ran a
hand across her eyes, then turned to face Mulder and
Scully. "Hi, I'm Alex Moulton. You must be Fox Mulder
and Dana Scully; Walt has told us stories about you
two."

"Nothing too bad I hope," Mulder shook her hand and
noticed vaguely that she was even shorter than Scully.
And she had turquoise eyes...

"By no means. We, Matt and I, are glad you decided to
come along and help us," she said slowly.

"Then you don't believe that your daughter's death was
from natural causes?" Scully asked, sizing the other
woman up.

Alex crossed her arms over her chest. "Shelley'd had a
doctor visit a week before she died. She didn't even
have the sniffles. There was *no* reason for her to
die and I don't believe it was crib death. I've
already researched it; it doesn't run in my family or
Matt's, she had no apnea or breathing problems before
she died and she slept on her back!" She gave Scully a
defiant glare.

"But you do know that a certain percentage of SIDS
deaths are never explained," Scully said quietly.

"She is the seventh child to die in a year. For my
money that's no coincidence!"

"Sweetheart, let's talk about this later, somewhere
quiet," A tall man in a dark suit came up next to
Alex, then turned to Skinner. "Walt, it's good to see
you again. I can't tell you how grateful we are that
you made the trip." He scanned the other agents. "That
all of you are making the trip." He looked over his
shoulder. "Looks like the service is starting. Can you
come over to the house afterwards? I want to show you
something I found. But please, don't tell anyone what
I told you on the phone, Walt. There are things you
need to know first about this town." Matt turned and,
grabbing Alex's hand, walked up the path toward the
church door. Skinner motioned to his agents and the
three of them followed the Moultons into the church. 

In the parking lot a small tabby cat curled up on top
of the rental car's engine where it was nice and warm


***


The funeral service was short but moving. Mulder
couldn't help feeling the sadness of it all, a small
life cut off too soon. He idly looked over the
resident congregation. If Matt was right, the whole
town was probably here.

Well, none of them looked like serial killers but
then, they never do. He was glad to a seat at the end
of the pew, grateful that he could stretch his legs
out a bit. Next to him, Scully was also scanning the
crowd like a good agent. Skinner...Skinner looked pale
and wasn't taking his eyes off Matt and Alex. No, he
was watching Alex.

Mulder felt a soft brush against his ankle and looked
down. A gray cat looked up at him with imploring green
eyes, so he reached down a hand and began skritching
him behind the ears. I wonder whose cat this is, he
pondered. No collar or tags, where did he come from?
Oh yeah, all the church doors were open for a good
hour before services.

He gently lifted the small body into his lap and
listened to the purring and felt soothed. Unwilling to
be hidden in Mulder's lap, the cat mountaineered up
his jacket to a spot just under his chin, bumping it
with the top of his head. Feeling guilty, Mulder just
couldn't put the cat down and continued to scratch him
and listen to the purring.

It was hypnotic, the purring. He could feel himself
relaxing, limbs going still; couldn't move if he
tried. Everything slowed down, time slowed, too much
effort to keep scratching but the cat didn't mind.

Too much effort to do anything, no need to move the
lungs. He felt the air draining out of him, flowing
slowly out and down, ruffling the cat's fur. So
peaceful...

"Mulder? Mulder can you hear me? Mulder!"

The cat was gone and Scully was kneeling over him.
That wasn't right, we were sitting up in a church pew.

Skinner's face swam overhead looking concerned and he
heard a loud gasping noise and realized it was
himself. Air...no air in here...

"It's some kind of asthmatic attack, we have to get
him to an emergency room," She said tensely. "Mulder,
keep breathing, okay? Just keep your mind on breathing
in and out."

Mulder nodded and focused grimly on forcing the air in
and out of his lungs while Scully and Skinner helped
him to his feet and began to half carry him over to
the sacristy.

"Excuse me, but maybe this will help." A blonde woman
in a green dress approached them as they were easing
Mulder onto a couch. "I have asthma and always carry
an inhaler."

Scully all but grabbed it out of her hand and took a
quick look at the canister label. Albuterol,
good."Mulder, here's an inhaler. Push down on the top
and breathe in at the same time. Give yourself two
sprays." She handed him the inhaler and watched while
he gave himself the doses.

Slowly his breathing began to ease and he relaxed
against the couch.

"Thank you for that," Scully said. "You might have
saved his life."

"I'm glad I could help," the woman shrugged. "Having
asthma is no picnic. Your friend should probably see a
doctor and get some allergy testing done. By the way, 
I'm Darlene Eggert. I understand you're here to 
investigate the deaths."

"Yes we are," said Scully. "Although so far I
understand that the authorities have ruled the deaths
were caused by SIDS."

The other woman shook her head. "I can't say, but I
know all the families and they're heartbroken." She
shook her head."Well, if I can help in any way please
feel free to call on me. I'm the town archivist and
you can find me over at City Hall."

"Thank you," said Scully, handing her the inhaler. 

Darlene smiled and opened the sacristy door," No, you
keep it. I have more and he might need it again. I'll
see you around," she said and slipped out the door.

Scully frowned. "Mulder, we really ought to get you to
an emergency room. If it's an allergy you might have
another attack, possibly a worse one. Especially since
we don't know what triggered it."

"Wasn't allergy. The cat did it," Mulder wheezed,
propping himself more upright on the couch. "It was
stealing my breath."

"Cat? What cat?" asked Skinner.

Mulder blinked. "The cat that I was holding on my lap.
It was a little gray kitten; it came up to me in the church."

"Mulder, I didn't see a cat either," said Scully,
feeling his forehead. "And you were right next to me. 
You must have had some hallucinations before you 
passed out."

"There was a cat! It was a cute little thing and it
sat there purring on my chest. You didn't see anything
at all?" Mulder looked from Scully to Skinner as they
both shook their heads. "It was *there* and I'll prove
it. Check my jacket for cat hair!"

He struggled out of the jacket and Skinner folded it
carefully front side in."I'll have it analyzed," he
said. "But Mulder, you have to know this is a long
shot. Are you sure you don't want to go to the
hospital?"

"And even if we find cat hair it only proves that you
came into contact with cat hair at some time and you
are very allergic to cats." Scully said.

"Just send it, okay?" Mulder said and began to climb
to his feet."Let's get this investigation going."

Scully and Skinner exchanged glances and Skinner
helped Mulder up. "I won't ask you if you feel able to
continue the investigation, but if this happens again
you're off the case. Got it?"

"Yes sir," said Mulder. "But it won't happen again."

"No, it won't," Scully stated and handed Mulder the
inhaler. "Keep that on you just in case. And we're
going to the drugstore to get you some heavy duty
antihistamines and an epi pen. If you go into
anaphylactic shock you'll need the adrenaline."

"Scully, I'm not some semiinvalid who's allergic to
bee stings!"

Scully said nothing, just looked.

"All right. All right...."

***

1 p.m.
136 Manx Ct.

"I think that's the house, " said Scully eyeing the
numbers on the white house with green shutters.
"Okay, I'll let you out while I find a place to park.
It looks like half the town is parked on the street ,"
Skinner replied. 

Scully climbed out and opened the rear passenger door
to let Mulder out. He refused the arm she extended to
help him and walked quickly to the front of the house to 
wait for Skinner. Scully sighed and followed him.

Skinner circled the court and found no parking spots
at all. Oh well, just have to go further out. There's
one...He parked the car in front of a small gray house
surrounded by a tall chain link fence. That thing was
at least eight feet tall and the owner must be pretty
paranoid, bars on the windows and were those halogen
floodlights? 

Skinner got out of the car and as he slammed the door
he jumped. Three huge rottweilers were throwing
themselves against the fence, barking and whining. One
dog looked like he was trying to squeeze under the
fence to get at him.

Skinner pulled out his gun but began to walk slowly
away from the house. Behind him the frenzy continued
as the dogs kept charging at the fence and being
repelled.

Around the corner he met Scully and Mulder waiting for
him at Matt and Alex's front door.

"What happened? Why's your gun out?" demanded Mulder
looking around for assailants.

Skinner grunted a short laugh and holstered the gun.
"Nothing. Just some overexcited dogs. One of the
neighbors has a house set up like a bunker,complete
with guard dogs." He pressed the buzzer.

Alex answered the door, "Please come in, we're so glad
to see you." She led them into a living room crowded
with people. "Agent Mulder, I hope you're feeling
better? I have a guestroom if you need to lay down,"
she eyed him doubtfully.

"I'm fine now, ma'am," said Mulder firmly.

"Good," said Alex. "There's been enough sickness and
death in this town for a lifetime." She glanced over
the crowd and turned to Skinner, "Walt, we may not be
able to talk for a few hours but please stay until the
crowd leaves. Excuse me," She fell silent for a
moment, then "Matt and I really need your help."

"We'll be here," Skinner said softly. She nodded and
melted back into the crowd. "Well Agents, we might as
well mingle and see what we can find out."

***

5 p.m.

"Is that the last one? Thank God!" Scully sat down on
the couch and reminded herself that she hadn't just
taken the Lord's name in vain, it was a really prayer
of gratitude.

"Yeah, that's all," Mulder closed the door and joined
her on the couch.

Skinner took the armchair next to them and sipped at
his soda. He'd been quiet all day, looking and
listening more than talking.

"Thank you for being here today," Matt sat down on the
loveseat and leaned forward. Alex came over and
quietly sat down next to him. "We have a lot to
discuss," he said. "As you already know, we don't
think these deaths were accidental and they certainly
weren't caused by crib death!" Matt snorted.

"Can you tell us what happened?" asked Scully.

"I put Shelley down for a nap at about 4 p.m. I went
back at six to check on her and I didn't need to have
the light on, the room was dim but I could see and I
saw a cat, I swear it, crouched over her. I ran
forward and it looked up and I swear it looked at me,
then it ran away somewhere. I wasn't paying attention.
I went to check Shelley and she was dead, then I
started CPR and called for Alex to dial 911." He
brushed a hand over his face. "We didn't even think
about the cat until later and, well," he shifted in
embarrassment. "I remembered my mom always saying that
cats stole babies' breath. Then when the government
said it was all a crib death..." He fell silent.

"Were there autopsies in the case?" Scully asked.

"Yeah, but they didn't show anything," Matt said. "But
there's something hinkey about this town and there has
been since the day we moved in." He stood up and began
to pace.
 
"Have you seen the sheer amount of goddam *cats* in
this place? You can't walk ten feet without tripping
over one of 'em."

"Yes, we have noted quite a few," Skinner said drily.
"Most of the businesses seem to have cat themes."

"Well, there's a reason for that," Matt sat down again. 
"This place was first settled a hundred fifty years ago 
by a bunch of religious nuts.."

"A religious sect, Matt," corrected Alex softly. "They
were called the Potterites. I read up on them after we
moved in; the library has quite a collection of their
writings. It seems they held cats sacred. They felt
that the cat was the animal closest to God, closer
even than humans. They devoted their lives to keeping
cats, studying them and performing rituals involving
them."

"Yeah," said Matt. "And they even say that some of the
original cats died but never left here. They
supposedly reappear as God's messengers, but how you'd
be able to tell them from the rest of them I wouldn't
know."

"It almost sounds as if you didn't like cats," said
Mulder.

"I used to like 'em fine before we moved here and were
surrounded by the damned things. And the thought that
one of 'em killed my daughter makes me want to go out
there and hunt them all down," Matt fumed. 

Alex put a hand on his arm."That would be a bad idea
here. Most of the town are descendents of the
Potterites. They don't worship cats any more but they
do love them and keep them." Alex shook her head. "By
the dozens. Being a cat hater isn't going to make you
popular here."

"You don't have a pet cat, do you?" asked Scully.

"No, we're too busy to care for a pet. Shelley keeps
us...kept us...pretty occupied," Alex said sadly.

"Did any of the other affected families?" Mulder
leaned forward. "Did any of the other families see a
suspicious cat near their child before it died?"

Matt shook his head. "If they did, they haven't told
us."

"Well, not everybody is a catlover," said Skinner. "On
the way in I parked in front of a house with three big
dogs."

Matt nodded,"You mean Larry Schultz. Yeah, he has
dogs, all right. It's a good thing he's got them
fenced in. They were killing stray cats and animal
control almost put the dogs down until he put that
fence up." He pondered a moment. "You know, Larry and
Paulette are the only family left in town with a kid
under two years old. All the other babies have died,"
his face worked. "And our government says there's
nothing significant here."

"It sounds like we have some work ahead of us," said
Skinner. "Agent Scully, I assume you'll want to review
the autopsy records."

"I think I'd like to look into these Potterites more
thoroughly," said Mulder. "Where would that
information be?"

"We have some at the central library," said Alex. "But
for the real scoop you'll want to talk to the town
archivist, Darlene Eggert."

Mulder's eyebrows rose, "We've met. Okay, I'll stop by
her office and see what she can tell us."

"I'd like to have a talk with local law enforcement,"
said Skinner. "We'd better be going."

"I'll walk you out," said Alex, giving Matt a
questioning look. Matt shook his head,"No, I'll stay
here and clean up."

Mulder and Scully walked ahead on the sidewalk,
Skinner and Alex following behind. Mulder couldn't
hear what they were saying but they seemed to be
talking intently about something. He looked back
briefly and saw Skinner leaning down close to Alex's
face to murmur something to her.

Behind them a small furry black head peeped out from
some geraniums and watched them walk away.


***

7:30 p.m.
Kit Kat Kafe

Dinner was quiet. Skinner said nothing, looking into
space, munching his sandwich. Mulder's whole attention
was focused on Skinner, examining him carefully.
Scully watched Mulder watching Skinner for a while,
then tried to break the silence.

"So, any theories?" She picked at her salad. Skinner
jerked his attention back to the table and caught
Mulder's eyes. Mulder looked away quickly.

"I think the Potterites bear a closer look," said
Mulder through his cheeseburger.

Scully shook her head,"Mulder, they're long gone. And
besides, the legend doesn't say that the cats were
hostile, just different. I think it's possible that
this could all be the result of some kind of allergy."

"How so?" Skinner asked, putting his half eaten
sandwich down.

"A severe allergic reaction can trigger anaphylactic
shock, which includes wheezing and asthmatic symptoms
like Mulder showed today. Death due to anaphylaxis
would not necessarily show up on autopsy if the victim
died quickly."

"So you're saying that coincidentally all the babies
in this town but one developed a severe cat allergy?"
Mulder grimaced. "That's too much of a coincidence."

"Statistically it could happen, especially when you
look at the prevalence of cats in this community. It
makes more sense than some kind of killer feline
cult," Scully replied.

"Well, check out both possibilities," said Skinner. "I
think I'll take a walk." He got up and pulled his coat
off the chair.

"Sir, pardon my asking, but are you all right? You've
been very quiet this evening," Scully stood up, eyeing
Skinner clinically.

"No, no I'm fine. I just want to get some air. I'll be
back in an hour or so." He gave his agents a
no-nonsense look and left the restaurant.

"He's very affected by this death, isn't he? I'd
almost say he's grieving." Scully folded her napkin
and slid closer to Mulder in the booth. "He must be
very close to the Moultons."

"I think...maybe it's something more," Mulder said
softly. Scully shot him a questioning look but he just
shook his head.

***

7:45
Le Chat Noir Bar and Grill

Skinner glanced nervously around the lounge, then
spotted her, alone at a small table in the corner. He
looked around him, then made his way to the table.

"You made it," Alex stood up and hugged him.

"What else could I do?" he replied. "Alex, we
shouldn't be doing this. We decided.."

"Yes, I know what we decided, but I had to see you,
talk to you." She sat down, still holding Skinner's
hands. "She's gone, Walt. Our little girl is gone."

Skinner bowed his head,"She wasn't mine and you know
it. We agreed that she would be yours and Matt's. We
weren't going to discuss this again. Ever." He looked
around the bar. "Do you know what it would do to Matt
if he knew?"

"I know," Alex said tightly and sipped her drink. "I
love him too, remember? Trust me to find two great men
and only be able to marry one of them!"

"You chose right," Skinner waved over the waitress and
ordered a drink. "My life just isn't, well, settled
enough for a family right now. There are things about
me you don't know about and it's safer that way." His
eyebrows rose as he thought about some of those things
and wondered briefly if Shelley had been killed to get
back at him. No, if it had been directed at him they
would have rubbed his nose in it by now. "You still
love Matt, don't you?" God, I hope...what do I hope?

She looked down at the table. "I'm not sure how I
feel. Matt's so angry since Shelley died, I can't
reach him. He wants to strike back at something, make
it all right. But it won't be all right, will it?
She'll still be gone." she eyed Skinner sadly. "I miss
Matt. And I miss what you and I had, Walt."

"I can't do that again, Shelley, so please don't ask
me. Matt was my best friend in Viet Nam. He saved my
ass a dozen times and I did the same for him." Skinner
lowered his voice. "I hated myself every instant we
were together, worrying about Matt finding out. I
betrayed him once, I can't do it again." No more
betrayals, ever, he reminded himself. No more friends
hung out to dry, no matter what.

"It wasn't a betrayal. In the end you gave him what he
wanted most in the world: a child. Shelley was a
blessing," she said. She watched him silently for a
moment. "There's something else. Last night I went
into Shelley's room and...just sat. I folded her
blanket close, just to smell her scent. And I found
this," she reached into her pocket and pulled out a
baggie enclosing a tuft of gray fur. "It's from a cat,
isn't it?"

Skinner examined it,"It looks like it may be. I can
have it examined. Do you believe Matt when he says the
cat killed the baby?"

"I don't know what to believe, I just want my baby
back." Alex looked down at the table. "Walt, I feel so
empty, I don't know what to do. And Matt's so distant;
it feels like he blames me for this."

"It wasn't your fault, Alex," Skinner said softly.
"And we'll find out what happened." With Scully to
follow up the logical, scientific leads and Mulder to
hit the kookie and outre, they were covered all right.
He sipped his drink and hoped that this wouldn't be
the one time the pair came up dry. Alex just sat in
her chair, so alone. He wanted to hold her, comfort
her...No, that way lay trouble. He looked at his
watch. "I need to get going. We'll let you know if we
find anything."

He left Alex sitting alone at the table.

***

Kit Kat Motel and Kafe
7:30

"Scully?"

"Yeah Mulder."

"Whatcha doin'?" Mulder sat back on the bed,
television remote in hand, idly flipping channels.

"Reviewing the CDC reports Skinner gave us. I'll be
meeting with the County Coroner tomorrow and I want to
be prepared." Scully looked up from her folder.
"Mulder, if you're bored why don't you go to a movie
or something? I'm busy."

Mulder frowned and put the remote down. Yes, he was
bored. The library was closed and so was City Hall, so
he couldn't do anything till morning. Although, now
that he thought about it, he could go cat watching.
"Think I'll go for a run," he said. There isn't much I
can do for now, so I may as well check out the
neighborhood."

"Take your inhaler with you!" Scully reminded as he
slipped outside. He didn't need an inhaler or that
adrenaline pen Scully had insisted on buying for him.
He wasn't allergic to cats, he'd been attacked by one.
Well, he had his gun with him and no cat was going to
get a second chance at him.

The fog hadn't let up that he could see. Actually, it
was thickening. He glanced around, looking for
landmarks. The street was quiet and empty, the street
lights dim and spaced far apart. He began to wonder
whether this jog had been a good idea.

He could see small dark figures out of the corner of
his eye, ducking behind trees or just melting into the
fog. He could feel his breath easing in and out of his
lungs. Maybe it was time to get back to the motel. He
stopped and looked around him and didn't recognize a
thing. Okay, he'd just go back the way he'd come. He
heard a rustling sound from behind him and turned.
Nothing but fog. 

He slowly drew his weapon and pointed it in front of
him, waiting for more sound. Nothing. Okay, try to get
back to the motel, slow and easy. He started to walk,
then saw out of the corner of his eye, two cats
approaching on the left. And three more from the
right. Then three slipped out of somewhere and planted
themselves ahead on the sidewalk. Both were big;
neither was moving. He headed to one side, intending
to run in the street and avoid them, when he saw four
more cats separate themselves from the shadows to
block his escape.

Mulder glanced over his shoulder and saw three more.

He slowed to a walk and watched them close the
distance between them.

Nowhere to go, not even a tree to climb. He stopped
and waited while they slowly surrounded him.

***

10:00 p.m.
Kit Kat Motel and Kafe

"Sir, I'm concerned about Agent Mulder," Scully stood
in the doorway to Skinner's room. "I've tried to reach
him on cell phone and gotten no answer. He should have
been back by now."

Skinner looked out the doorway at the swirling fog and
wasn't hopeful. "Do you know where he planned to go?"

"No sir, he usually jogs a mile or two around wherever
we're staying," She eyed the fog as well. "He doesn't
usually stay out this late."

"Let's take the car, then. Do you have your weapon?
I'd like to try to find him before we contact local
law enforcement." Skinner shot her a worried glance,
then grabbed his keys.


***


Scully peered through the windshield at the fog. It
had thickened noticeably since she and Skinner had
taken the car from the motel parking lot. Now it was
so thick she found it hard to see the road; the street
lights were so dim she could barely see them. "I don't
like this," Skinner said, grimly clutching the
steering wheel. "We can't see the sidewalk, much less
Agent Mulder." 

"You aren't going to give up, are you?" Scully
demanded. "We don't know what might have happened to
him!"

Skinner pulled the car over to the curb and cut the
engine. "Agent Scully, I think we should look at the
larger picture here. If the two of us get ourselves
lost in the fog it helps neither Mulder nor the case
we're here to investigate. It makes sense to wait for
morning." Skinner paused, then sighed. "All right,
let's continue the search on foot, but we stay
together."

"How far are we from the motel? A block?" Skinner
asked tensely, focusing his flashlight on the ground
ahead of him.

"Two blocks, I think," said Scully, looking around.
"This area looks familiar. Wait, there's a street
sign. We're at the corner of Persian and Manx; that's
near the Moulton's house, isn't it?"

"Yes, we're near the place I parked and...what's
this?" Skinner moved off the sidewalk and squatted
near a clump of bushes in a vacant lot. He shone the
flashlight at a dark object and gently lifted it up
with a gloved hand. "It's a Sig Sauer; it looks like
Mulder's weapon," he said grimly, standing up and
surveying the area. "Can't see a damned thing in this
fog!"

"Hold it! There by your foot..." Scully picked a cell
phone off the ground and flipped it open. "This is
Mulder's. He must be around her somewhere. Mulder!"

They both circled the lot, calling and searching under
every bush and tree but found nothing. 

"The neighbor's dogs are awake," commented Scully. "Do
you think their owner might know something?" The dogs,
behind their tall fence had started barking as soon as
the agents approached the lot and hadn't stopped.

"Well, the owners certainly aren't asleep in all that
racket," Skinner said. "Mulder's gun was under the
bush right next to the chain link fence, so it's a
possibility. Let's give it a try, but keep your weapon
handy."

They moved over to the front gate, the dogs following
them from the other side. By now, the three of them
were barking in a frenzy, throwing themselves at the
fence. Skinner found a small sign next to the gate's
latch, "Please ring bell." next to a second sign: "No
Solicitors, No Trespassers, This means YOU!"

"Friendly, aren't they?" Scully muttered. Skinner
pressed the button.

The dogs went berzerk, their barking rising to a fever
pitch, slavering and pitching themselves at the fence.
Skinner and Scully backed away from the gate, looking
at each other with dismay. Skinner leveled his gun at
the dogs, just in case one got out.

The house's outside light went on, the door opened and
a loud male voice yelled, "Moe! Curly! And you! Shemp!
Quiet out there! Come here!" The dogs stopped barking
and ran back to their master. The man, tall and very
thin walked out to the gate, the dogs following him
eagerly. 

"Who are you? What do you want?" the man demanded.

Skinner holstered his weapon and pulled out his badge.
"I'm Walter Skinner with the FBI, this is Agent
Scully. We are wondering whether you might have seen
one of our agents, Fox Mulder, this evening?"

"Fox Mulder? What kinda name is that?" The man peered
at their badges. "You must be the people in town to
investigate the deaths." He stuck out his hand, "I'm
Larry Schultz; why don't you come on in." He opened
the gate and gestured for them to enter.

Skinner and Scully looked at each other hesitantly,
then at the dogs. Schultz laughed, "Don't worry about
them. You're with me and their bark is worse than
their bite. They wouldn't hurt a flea." Schultz
gestured to the dogs, "Go on boys! Go on!" 

The dogs obediently ran to the back of the yard,
leaving the humans standing in silence. Skinner
shrugged at Scully and they followed Schultz into the
house.  A woman stood in the doorway as they entered,
"Larry? What's going on out there? Oh. Who are you?"

"These are FBI agents Skinner and Scully," said Larry.
"They're here investigating all those crib deaths.
They want to know did we see one of their agents? A
Fox Mulder.."

"He would have been in the neighborhood early this
evening," put in Scully. "Wearing gray sweatshirt and
pants."

"In this fog?" snorted the woman. "I'm lucky if I can
see a hand in front of my face. I haven't seen or
heard anything unusual, except for those damned dogs."

"Now Marie, you know why we keep the dogs," Larry
muttered to her.

"Why do you keep the dogs?" asked Scully. "That's an
awfully big fence for family pets."

"They're big dogs," Larry shot back.

"Oh, come on, Larry. They might as well know," Marie
gestured toward the living room. "Why don't you sit
down. Would you like some coffee? The dogs are there
to keep the cats out. This whole town is overrun with
them."

"Is there something wrong with the cats?" Scully
accepted a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch.

Larry sat down in the armchair, looking ill at ease.
"You know how many kids have died over the last year?
Well our little girl is the only baby left in this
town. The first couple deaths people, well, talked.
Shirley Hawson said she saw a cat hanging around
outside their house before their little boy died. Burt
Janovich saw the same thing before his girl died. But
whenever people would talk to the authorities about
it, they just got pooh-poohed. And the rest of the
town went along with it. Damned cat lovers."

"We got nothing against cats, you understand," said
Marie. "I've even owned a couple in the past. But the
folks in this town, they worship 'em. Won't say a bad
thing about any cat! They did test some of the cats in
the neighborhood for diseases but they found nothing.
Ever since, if you say anything about one of their
cats you get the cold shoulder from the rest of the
town."

"So four months ago we got the dogs," added Larry.
"Got the biggest ones I could find and put a fence
around this place. The dogs look fierce but they won't
hurt humans. But they sure scare the cats away."

"Your neighbors say that the dogs were killing
neighborhood cats before you put the fence up,"
Skinner said.

Larry said calmly, "I do whatever I have to do to
protect my family. If any cat comes into this yard,
it's dog meat. And if it gets past the fence, it
doesn't belong here."

"How long have you lived in Potterville," Scully
asked, setting her coffee cup aside.

"About two years? That right, Marie?"

Marie nodded. "We thought this would be a friendly
little community to live in. We'd just started a
family and wanted a family-oriented place. And it was
pretty friendly until the deaths started."

"How many of the families who lost children were also
cat owners?" Skinner asked.

Larry thought for a moment, "All of them except for
the Moultons. Like I said, this is a cat-loving
community."

"Do you have any idea what might be causing these
deaths?" asked Scully.

Both Marie and Larry shook their heads. "No, we don't.
Do you think we'd just be sitting here if we did?"
Larry added. "The dogs are a precaution and they'll
protect us against burglars as well as killer cats, if
that's the real cause of all this. Just like we've
started to use bottled water in case that's the cause
and they just aren't telling us."

Skinner looked at his watch and stood up. "Well, thank
you for your information. Please be assured that we'll
do everything possible to find the answer to this."

"I'm sure you will," Marie said as she and Larry
followed them to the door. "But for now, watch out for
strange cats!"

Outside the fog was still impenetrable. Scully shot
Skinner a hopeful look but he shook his head. "No,
we'd better get back to the motel and call in the
local police for help. There's nothing more we can do
tonight."

Skinner managed to find his way back to the motel
through the fog-shrouded streets. He was conscious of
Scully craning her neck at the window trying to spot
Mulder. He found he was doing it himself, but all he
saw were strange images in the fog. He could almost
swear he saw cats curling in and out of the mist, but
they disappeared when he focused on them. 

Scully called the local sheriff's office and reported
Mulder's disappearance. The deputy advised them that,
since this was a small town, the two deputies assigned
to the town wouldn't be on duty until 6 a.m. Since
search conditions were bad it made no sense to wake
them up and turn them to searching now. Skinner
couldn't disagree and had to accept their judgment. He
could see that Scully was equally uncomfortable with
it.

He silently walked Scully to her room, then went to
his own. Darn that Mulder, he was always getting into
trouble like this. No, that wasn't fair. Mulder threw
himself at cases with his whole body and soul. It was
inevitable that sometimes the cases fought back.
Skinner carefully hung up his suit and padded to the
bathroom in his skivvies to brush his teeth. He was
worried; more than he wanted to admit. It wouldn't do
to alarm Dana Scully and he knew for a fact that she
wasn't going to sleep much tonight. She'd be worrying
about Mulder, out there in the fog somewhere.

And losing little Shelley. Alex was devastated and so
was Matt. In a dim sort of way he felt responsible for
Shelley's death, as though he had failed to protect
her. But what could he have done? Crossed a continent
to tuck her in every night? The possiblity of
transferring to a local office had occurred to him but
his home was in D.C. The fog almost had a personality,
evil and persistent, hiding whatever it was that was
killing babies. Now the fog had swallowed someone else
from his life, dare he say from his family? 

Skinner rolled over, determined to get some sleep.
Mulder is fine and we'll find him tomorrow. He's
probably spending the night in somebody's guest room.
Skinner shifted onto his back and stared at the
ceiling. God, he didn't want to ever have to tell
Scully that Mulder was dead. Please don't make it this
time.

***

Wednesday, 2 a.m.

Adrian Beloitte, age 26, sat on his couch surfing the
late night movies. He hated the cheesy couch but his
parents wouldn't buy anything better. They said he
spilled so many crumbs and stuff on it that it wasn't
worth replacing. The t.v. was ten years old and
trashed too, the rabbit ears only gave them about four
channels and one of them was PBS. 

He got up and adjusted the antenna. The snow cleared a
bit, so he sat down again. Too bad his folks couldn't afford
cable, the stuff on network television sucked big
time. He scratched himself and meditated on his life.

He lit up a cigarette and took a drag. They hated him
smoking too, but what were they gonna do about it,
huh? He was over 21 and an adult, so there! His
parents were after him again about getting a job, said
he was a bum and a loafer. Well, maybe so but he
wasn't going to settle for just any McJob flipping
burgers. No, he was made for better stuff. They just
didn't understand he had to wait for the timing to be
right, then he'd open the martial arts dojo he'd
always wanted. Of course, he ought to work out some,
he'd put on weight...maybe tomorrow. Where was that
sack of chips?

He scrounged around the floor next to the couch and
his hand touched something warm and soft. What? A 
cute little gray cat.

"Where did you come from, huh?" He picked it up and
sat it, purring, in his lap. "Well, you sure don't
look like that sour old furball Mom insists
on calling Fluffy, are you." The cat looked up at him
with deep fathomless eyes and snuggled under his chin,
clearly asking for a skritch. He obliged and settled
back into the couch, the cat's purring in his ears.
What a nice cat. This was so relaxing...so
relaxing.... His eyes closed and breathing grew slower
and slower, then finally stopped.

The cat cuddled up against him until it had drunk all
the breath the man had in him. When Adrian Beloitte
was white and still, the cat lightly hopped down from
the couch and made a beeline for the cat door in the
kitchen. A quick flip of the door and he was out of
the house and padding up the street. He flirted in and
out of the fog, seeming to be part of the landscape
and disappearing entirely from view. At last
he came to a small white house and went in at the
back, where a window had been left open for him. 

He dropped from the window
ledge onto the bedroom floor with a light thud and
picked his way delicately over to the bed.

"Buster, is that you?" A female voice came from the
bed, then coughed harshly. She sat up and brushed 
her blonde hair from her eyes, putting down her book. 
"How'd you know I couldn't sleep? I could
use the company..." she gave a hollow cough and
reached for her inhaler. 

As Buster leaped up onto the bed, she was giving
herself two hits from the inhaler, trying vainly to
breathe the medicine in deeply. "Buster," she rasped.
"You've been outside, haven't you? You're a bad kitty.
You know you shouldn't be out tom-catting around on
these winter nights, don't you?" She leaned forward,
reaching for him. Buster butted his head against the
palm of her hand as she stroked him.

She coughed once and then again, propelled into a fit
of coughing which left her breathless, her face very pale. 
Buster moved up the bed to snuggle next to her chest, 
watching her closely as she reached for the inhaler again. 
"I'm sorry, kitty. I know you hate the noise
these things make, but Mom can't breathe too well just
now." She shook the inhaler and took two more hits,
gulping in the air, forcing it into her lungs as hard
as she could, then fell back against the pillows.

Buster watched her closely, then nudged himself up
under her chin. She smiled and closed her eyes, sinking 
back into the bed.

Her breathing slowly eased, the wheeze dying down into
deep clear breaths as Buster's purring got louder and more 
resonant.

"Yeah..." she whispered as she dropped off to sleep.
"That feels better...much better...good medicine in
that inhaler..." Buster just cuddled in
closer, his purring filling the room. Darlene Eggert
slept deeply and well.

***

Wednesday,
7:30 a.m.

Scully woke to the sound of her bedside phone. She sat
bolt upright and grabbed for it. "Scully," she said
breathlessly.

"They've just found Mulder," Skinner said. "Get
dressed, we have to get going."


***


Mulder looked around him and saw nothing but the cats
slinking towards him through the fog.  They watched
him intently until the biggest cat made his move, a
big gray tiger-striped tom, stalked toward Mulder.
Mulder raised his gun and pointed it at tiger-stripe
then saw movement flickering on the periphery of his
vision. 

A black cat ran and jumped at him, knocking the gun
from his hand with sharp teeth. The cat gripped, hung
from his hand and let go, then grabbed the gun in his
mouth and trotted off into the fog, dragging the gun
with him. Mulder lurched sideways with the blow and
clutched his bleeding hand to his chest. The cats
backed away from him, still watching. He remembered
that cats like to play with their prey before killing
it and began to worry.

The tiger stripe began to inch forward again. Despite
himself Mulder backed away slowly, searching vainly in
the fog for a house or some escape. Tiger stripe was
joined by two, and then four more of the cats. Mulder
began to panic and turned to run when he felt, rather
than heard, the first cat jump onto him. Suddenly
there were cats everywhere, and two more somehow
tangled into his legs and he couldn't keep upright
anymore. He fell to the ground, swarmed with a
yowling, hissing mass of bodies.

"There now! You! Samson, leave the man alone!" A
female voice came through the fog and Mulder found
himself looking up into a pair of faded blue eyes. A
old woman with white hair peered down at him
uncertainly. "Are you all right?"

Mulder looked wide-eyed up at her, then gingerly sat
up. The cats had disappeared, all but one. Tiger
stripe sat next to the woman staring at him
unblinkingly. Mulder carefully stood up and brushed
himself off.

"I'm fine, ma'am," he said. "Excuse me, but is that
your cat?" He eyed the tiger-stripe which
dispassionately eyed him right back.

"Samson? Well, he stays with me. I can't really say I
own him since he belongs to himself," she looked
affectionately at the cat, which was now purring and
twining itself around her ankles. "You look a little
shaken, though. Why don't you come inside and have
some tea?" She motioned toward a front porch that
appeared from the fog. With a lit porch light.

Mulder blinked and wondered vaguely where a three
storey victorian house had popped from. "Yes, I'd like
that tea, ma'am," he murmured and allowed himself to
be led inside.

Mulder soon found himself sitting on an amazingly
comfortable horsehair couch in a period sitting room,
sipping tea from a dainty wedgewood teacup. The old
woman presided over the tea service like a pro,
handing him cookies and water crackers with aplomb.
The tiger cat, Samson he supposed, watched him like a
hawk. No, like a small mouse at a mousehole. Mulder
shivered and put down his teacup. "Mrs..."

"Anderson. Mrs. Hannah Anderson," she beamed. "And you
would be Agent Fox Mulder, lately of the FBI. We have
heard of you and what you are here to do," she set
down her cup and picked up the teapot. "More tea? No?
Well, have another cookie then. In any case, Agent
Mulder, we've been very distressed at the goings-on
here lately."

"We?" Mulder munched on his cookie. Really, it was
very good. He didn't get home cooking very often.

"My..um..friends and I. We've been in this town for
some time and take a proprietary interest in the
residents. These deaths aren't natural, as I'm sure
you've figured out by now. I'm glad I was able to meet
with you. I think I can be of help."

Mulder sat up attentively. "Really? How?"

"I know that you suspect that the trouble is caused by
a cat, although you are not believed by the
authorities. I agree with you about the source of the
danger. My friends have been keeping an eye out and
we've spotted the cat several times but have never
caught it in the act." She put down her teacup and
sighed. "I'm really very frustrated that I can't tell
you where the cat is now or which humans house it."

"You don't know where it is?" Mulder asked.

"I know that we've seen four similar cats in this town
and can tell you which humans those cats belong to.
Whether any one of them is causing the trouble I can't
say." She shook her head,"Cats have been integral to
this community since it was founded. It upsets me that
a cat should be killing children, and now has killed
an adult."

"There's been another death?" Mulder demanded,
starting to rise from the couch. Mrs. Anderson waved
him down again.

"Yes and there's nothing we can do about it now. I
don't have much time but here's what I know.
Potterville has been a special place for cats from its
inception. The original settlers believed that cats
were more spiritually advanced than we poor humans. We
held them in special esteem, rather as the ancient
Egyptians did in their temples to Bastet. After we
moved here we found that there was a natural spring
with very pure water. Unfortunately it had an
unpleasant odor which meant that humans used the water
for irrigation but nothing more. The animals, well
that was another story. Our cats began to drink it and
began to change," she smiled and poured him another
cup of tea. Samson leaped up onto the arm of her chair
and purred, his eyes never leaving Mulder's face.

"How?" Mulder divided his attention between Samson and
Mrs. Anderson. 

"Because of this special spring water they became more
intelligent and developed an ability to blend into the
scenery. While normal cats can slip away unnoticed,
our cats became almost invisible to the naked eye when
they didn't want to be seen. We didn't notice these
changes because we never saw a difference. We had been
exposed to the water too, washing our clothing in it
and even drinking it in the early days. We could
always see the cats. But when we stopped using the
spring after we found more desirable water, our
ability to see the cats faded. Only those with a
psychic gift saw them then." She leaned forward and
Samson jumped lightly off her chair, to settle on the
couch next to Mulder. Mulder nervously eyed the cat as
it began to purr.

"You, Mr. Mulder, were exposed to the spring water
when you first came to town, so you can see our cats.
I imagine your friends thought you were quite mad; a
madness often shared with Potterville residents, who
will see cats fading into the distance depending on
their exposure to spring water and the presence of
psychic ability."

"That still doesn't explain how one cat can apparently
steal the breath from babies," Mulder said
challengingly. Samson stretched leisurely and wandered
back to Mrs. Anderson's chair.

"We never really found out all that the water would
do. When we discovered that it was changing us we
stopped using it and piped water in from a spring
miles out. But the water is still there, used by the
farmers for their crops. Anybody's pet cat could get
to it. Now, I know that cats can be very determined
and loyal creatures. Who can say why a cat might want
a child's breath or what it might do with it?" She
reached into a pocket and removed a slip of paper.
"These are the households where the suspect cats
live."

"You keep saying 'we'. Who are you talking about?"
Mulder looked around the room which suddenly seemed
crowded with small furry bodies. He blinked. Or were
they? All he saw now was a room filled with very plush
furniture.

"Just a few of the older residents of town. I'm sorry
I can't give you some more definite suspects, but in
the six months that this has been happening we've
eliminated all of the town's six thousand cats but
these four; which I think is a fine six months' work,"
she scratched under Samson's chin to Samson's ecstatic
purr.

"Six thousand cats?" Mulder gulped.

"The town has ten thousand residents, over half of
whom have cats, often two or more to a family, as well
as the feral cat population. I think that's an
accurate census," she said with a complacent smile.

"I see," Mulder scanned the list. Four families, then,
including...Darlene Eggert? Odd coincidence. Well,
he'd been wanting to find out more about Potterville
and she was a good place to start. He stood up,"Thank
you for the tea, Mrs. Anderson, but I'd better be
going. My partner will be worried about me. Maybe I
should call her," he reached for his cell phone but it
was gone. Damn! Must have dropped it during his fight
with the cats. Those cats. "Mrs. Anderson, when we met
I was being attacked by a pack of cats. You wouldn't
happen to know anything about them, would you? Are
they involved in this?" He searched her face for any
expression, then felt vaguely dizzy and suddenly
tired. Very tired. He looked at Mrs. Anderson, who
suddenly appeared very blurry. He stood up unsteadily,
trying to head for the door. The old lady had drugged
him!

She smiled brightly, "You look very tired, Agent
Mulder. Perhaps you should lie down on the guestroom
bed for a while." She grabbed his arm in a strong grip
and propelled him into another room. He sank down
thankfully into a soft feather bed, four-poster...you
didn't see many of those any more. The last thing he
saw before he passed out was Samson crouched over him,
staring  down at him.

------------------------
>^^<---------------------------
Wednesday
8 a.m.

"Where are we going?" Scully asked tensely as she
buckled herself in.

Skinner swung the car out of the parking lot. "Damned
fog, never lets up. Can't see the goddamned traffic in
this burg. Where do you think? The Potterville
Hospital," Skinner kept his eyes fixed on the road,
largely obscured by the everpresent fog.

"Where did they find him? How is he hurt?" She focused
on keeping her voice calm, just as she always did in
these situations.

"The deputy said they found him in a vacant lot,
unconscious. He revived on the way to the hospital and
seemed incoherent. No visible marks on him but could
be a head injury, judging by his behavior."

Scully's lips quirked. "Or it could just be Mulder."

"Well, we'll know soon. He's in the emergency room,"
Skinner parked the car in a red zone and opened his
door. Scully eyed the "No Stopping" sign and got out
of the car, following him. They were met at the door
by a San Joaquin County Sheriff's deputy.

"You must be Walter Skinner? I'm Tom Bertram,
Sheriff's department," a tall blonde man approached
and shook Skinner's hand. "And you're Dana Scully?
Right, I've spoken with Agent Skinner by phone." He
shook his head. "We found your agent early this
morning."

"Where is he?" Scully asked quickly before the deputy
could say any more.

"He's in with Dr. Evans. We should know something
soon. Hey! You aren't supposed to be in there...Hey!
Ms. Scully!" He moved away from Skinner, trying to
follow Dana Scully into the examination rooms. 

Skinner neatly blocked his path. "How did you find
Agent Mulder?"

"She's not supposed to be back there...she'll regret
it if she pisses of Doc Evans...Well, anyway," The
deputy stopped craning his neck to follow Scully's
progress and faced Skinner. "My partner and I were out
looking for your agent this morning, about 6 a.m. and
saw the weirdest thing," he looked around and leaned
closer to Skinner. "It looked...the fog looked funny.
Like cats were swirling around in it. Anyway, I caught
sight of something moving in the bushes at a vacant
lot. Can't really tell what it was, but Pete and I
went in to check it out just the same. We found your
guy curled up under a bush, out like a light. We tried
to rouse him but he wouldn't wake up, so we called the
paramedics." His voice dropped to a whisper. "But the
weirdest thing of all? The fog was really thick last
night and the trees, shrubs and ground were sopping
wet. Your guy was bone dry. And he was surrounded by
mud but there were no footprints there. Not even his."

Bertram shook his head and folded his arms. "I rode in
the ambulance with him in case he woke up and said
something. Well, he said something all right. He woke
up and told me he'd been mugged by a bunch of cats!"


------------------------
>^^<---------------------------

"Can I see him?" Scully gave the nurse her most
professional look and flashed her badge. "I'm Agent
Mulder's partner and a medical doctor myself."

"You can ask Dr. Potter yourself," the nurse gestured
toward a woman in a white lab coat just exiting one of
the examination rooms.

"Dr. Potter?" Scully moved up to her. "I'm Dr. Dana
Scully, Mulder's partner. Can I see him?"

Potter set a chart down and drew a bead on Scully.
"Agent...Dr. Scully? Your partner needs the services
either of a trained psychiatrist or a psychic. I'm not
sure which."

"What are his injuries," Scully anxiously eyed the
chart Dr. Potter had just set down, itching to pick it
up and read it.

The doctor sighed,"He has no head trauma, his
bloodwork comes back normal and I find no evidence of
injury. Yet his account of the evening is nonsensical.
If you'd like me to refer him for a psych workup, just
let me know and I'll be happy to help you." She gave
Scully a hopeful look, "But you may want to wait until
you get him back home to do that."

Scully smiled, "I can see him, then?"

"Very shortly. I'm discharging him, he's dressing
now."

"Scully! Hey!" Mulder came out of the room, adjusting
his gray sweatshirt. Scully saw no stains or signs of
violence on his clothing, no bruises or marks that she
could see.

"Hey! How are you feeling?" She quickly examined what
she could see of him, reaching out to feel for fever.
Mulder batted her hands away.

"I'm fine. Really. But I need to tell you what I've
discovered," he looked around and spotted a grim
looking Skinner coming down the hallway.

When Skinner caught sight of Mulder his expression
eased but didn't change entirely. "Agent Mulder, can
you explain what happened to you?" Skinner moved in
closer and added softly, "And why everybody I talk to
wants you committed?"

"Yes I can sir, although it's a long story."

"I have nothing but time."

***

9 a.m.
Felix's Pancake House

"And the next thing I know, I'm in an ambulance,"
Mulder finished off a pancake. "I think Mrs. Anderson
offered some genuine insight into the problem."

Skinner turned to Deputy Bertram who'd come to
breakfast with them. "Do you know any Hannah
Anderson?"

Bertram jerked and then frowned. "The Andersons
haven't been around for years. I don't know of anybody
of that name living in the town any more." He gulped
down his coffee and turned to Mulder. "What did you
say her house looked like? A two story victorian?" At
Mulder's nod, Bertram stood up,"C'mon. I want you to
see something."

Skinner put some money on the table and the agents
followed Deputy Bertram. Outside the cafe, Bertram
pointed,"There, down the street is city hall. Follow
me," he led them down three doors to a tall
old-fashioned building and up a set of marble steps.
Inside the lobby he waved at a receptionist and led
them to a door labelled "City Archives", turned the
brass knob and ushered them in. 

Skinner and Scully looked around with cool curiosity,
missing the avidity on Mulder's face.
A woman at a computer turned around and smiled, "Hey
Tom! It's great to have some company; and you brought
friends with you." She stood up and shook hands,"Agent
Skinner, Scully, I'm so glad to see you again. Agent
Mulder, I hope you're feeling better than the last
time we met."

Mulder eyed her closely, then grinned and pulled her
inhaler out of his pocket, "I suppose you'll want this
back. I seem to have my own now. Say, who's this?" A
small gray head popped out from under the desk and a
pair of bright green eyes stared balefully at him.

She took it with a smile and set it on the desk. "This
is Buster, my best buddy and partner. He likes to come
to work with me." Buster gave the agents a long stare,
focusing especially on Mulder, then dived back under
the desk. Darlene shrugged, "I guess he isn't in the
mood for guests." She turned to where Bertram was
already going through a file cabinet. "Can I help you
find something, Tom? Or is this a warrant search?"

She moved over to the file cabinet, Skinner and Scully
following. Mulder trailed behind, watching the cat who
was still eyeing him from under the desk.

Bertram pulled away from the drawer, mildly
embarrassed. "I'm trying to find the town yearbook for
1900; there's a picture in it I want to see."

Darlene looked puzzled but went over to the cabinet
and pulled it out of the bottom drawer,"Help
yourselves. There's a library table over there, if you
need it."

Bertram thanked her and led the agents to the table
and opened the book to the flyleaf. "Is this the
house?" He pointed to a yellowed photograph of a
victorian house, two stories tall with elaborate
gingerbread trim. 

Mulder examined it carefully, then nodded."Yes, that's
the place all right. That's where I was last night."

Bertram thumbed the book a few more pages over to a
color photograph of a painting. It depicted an older
woman in a formal nineteenth century gown, holding a
large tiger-striped cat on her lap. "Does this look
familiar?", Bertram asked.

Mulder looked at the picture, then up again."That's
Mrs. Hannah Anderson and that," he pointed to the cat,
"Is Samson."

Bertram shut the book. "She's been dead for eighty
years. The house was razed in 1955 and is now is a
vacant lot next door to the Schultz place. She was the
last Anderson in Potterville, and the last surviving
Potterite. They called her the cat-lady because at her
death they found she had over twenty cats in her
house."

"Then I'd suggest that she still has an interest in
the town," challenged Mulder. "Enough to arrange a
meeting with me."

Scully shook her head,"Mulder, you've had a trying
couple of days. This vivid dream you had may be the
result of the attack you had yesterday or possibly a
reaction to the medications. Maybe you should go back
to the hotel room and rest."

"No, Scully, there's more information to be found
here. Mrs. Anderson wanted me to help and I'm going to
do just that." Mulder gave them a pleading smile. "I
have the feeling that the answer is here."

Skinner sighed, "Then at least we can continue the
other avenues of the investigation that were postponed
since your disappearance. Agent Scully, I think you
had an appointment with the coroner's office?"

Scully got up,"It's just two doors down, not far."

"Good. I'd like to follow up some other leads. I'll
take the car and be back here in," he checked his
watch. "Three hours. Is that okay? All right, I'll see
you then. Deputy Bertram, I have a few more questions
for you..." Skinner and Bertram left the office.

"He's trying to keep Bertram from spreading this to
the nearest Field Office," Scully said quietly.

"Since when have I cared about what they think about
me?" Mulder said, focusing on the book intently."You
know me, Spooky Mulder!"

Scully sighed and took her leave as well.

Mulder riffled through the yearbook's pages. Yes, that
was Hannah Anderson there. He'd bet on it.

"Agent Mulder, can I find anything else for you?"
Darlene stopped by the table, a stack of files in her
arm.

Mulder smiled up at her,"Do you know anything about
Hannah Anderson?" He pointed to her portrait in the
book.

Darlene set down the files and took a seat next to
Mulder. "She was one of the town's founders. She died
in 1920 after leaving all her money to her cats," she
smiled. "Even though the heirs disputed it, the cats
won and the last cat died in 1932 after a life of
luxury in Hannah's house. Funny thing, though, some
people say that Hannah never left. She seems to be a
sort of guardian angel for the town," Darlene stood up
and grabbed her files. "At least that's what the
townspeople say."

"How about you? What do you think?"

"I wouldn't know. We've only been here eight months,
Buster and I."

"Buster? Your son?" Mulder closed the book and set it
on the table.

"No, my cat. I moved here to get out of the Bay Area.
The air there was killing me; my asthma was terrible
there. I'd heard that Potterville was very
cat-friendly and was lucky to get the job here. And
so, here we are!"

"Your asthma was bad, huh? I'm pretty new to this
stuff. Has moving here been a help?"

She nodded her head vigorously. "Oh yes! In the bay
area I was in the emergency room at least once a month
with a severe attack and I was on two or three
different inhalers. There were places I just couldn't
go, like perfume counters or anywhere near cigarettes
or I'd be sick for days."

"And it got better here? When?"

"Within about two months of moving here. It took a
while for the Bay Area influence to wear off, I
suppose. My doctor is very pleased with me these
days."

Mulder got up and wandered over to Darlene's desk and
picked up a framed photograph. "Family picture?" he
asked with a smile.

"Oh, that," Darlene laughed."One of my friends
insisted on taking a shot of me with Buster. 'For your
desk,' she said. Everybody has a family picture on
their desk and I should be the same. Buster's a
Russian Blue; they're very intelligent and very
friendly cats," she laughed. "He'll even fetch paper
balls when I toss them."

"Just like a dog," Mulder commented.

"No, better than a dog. A Russian Blue will fetch,
then teach its owner how to fetch it themselves. One
step past what a dog will do," she smiled at the photo
fondly, then put it down on the desk.

"He must love you very much," Mulder said gently. "I
know that lots of people are allergic to cats; I'm
surprised that your asthma doesn't get worse when
you're near him."

"No, that's the surprising thing. Mine actually seems
to get better when I'm with Buster. Isn't it funny?
Sort of an anti-allergy."

"I imagine you've noticed it especially since you
moved here," Mulder said, watching her closely. 

She frowned and said slowly, "Well, yes, I suppose so.
Buster didn't affect my asthma either way when we
still lived in San Jose. But lately, it is true that I
feel better somehow when he's near me, especially when
he sleeps on my bed..."

"Darlene, you've heard about the babies' deaths lately
haven't you?" Darlene nodded and Mulder continued.
"Several family members of those who died reported
seeing a cat near the victim and believe that somehow
the cat caused the death."

She was silent and Mulder went on. "Yesterday, in the
church, I didn't have asthma. I gray cat with green
eyes attacked me and stole my breath. You saw the
result."

She frowned,"That's ridiculous! It's an old wives tale
about cats' stealing breath!"

"Has it ever occurred to you just why a cat might want
the breath of a child? A young, vital child with a
life-full of breath in him?" Mulder said softly.
"Maybe to give to a loved one who didn't have enough
breath?"

She stared at him in horror, "You can't mean that
Buster...Buster couldn't do something like that! It's
an old wives' tale and that's all it is!"

"You're the only one who can say how your health has
improved since you and Buster moved here and since the
babies started dying," Mulder went on. "There's only
one baby left in town, and it's surrounded by a barbed
wire fence and three dogs. He's begun hunting adults
now and if he's not stopped, there will be more
deaths. Only you can say what a difference Buster
makes to your asthma."

She met his eyes, "Buster isn't doing this. He's just
a cat." She stopped, wheezing, then continued. "That's
all he is!" She stood up suddenly and began to cough,
barely able to catch her breath and moved toward the
inhaler on her desk. Mulder rushed ahead of her and
snatched it off the desk. She, wheezing harder,
reached over the desk and opened a drawer, her hand
scrabbling through it. "Let...me...get...."

Mulder dispassionately grabbed the second inhaler from
the drawer, then backed away from the desk to the far
corner of the room. Darlene, struggling for breath,
sank down into an office chair. Buster peeked out from
under the desk and, seeing that Mulder was on the far
side of the room, moved quickly toward Darlene. He
began to twine himself around her ankles, then backed
up and took a running jump into her lap. Her arms went
around him reflexively and she held him close. As she
did so, the blue color began to leave her skin and her
breathing quickly eased.

"Can you deny the truth now?" Mulder asked from the
far side of the room.

She looked at him with wide eyes, then looked down at
Buster who sat purring against her chest."I won't let
you kill him. I'll lock him in the house, keep him
from getting out."

"Do you want to take that chance?"

She held onto the cat more tightly. "You don't
understand. Buster found me at my old apartment. He
was starving, neglected; he'd obviously been abused. I
fed him for weeks and finally coaxed him into the
house and took him to the vet. He loves me and he
trusts me," she buried her face in his fur. "He's only
doing this because he loves me. He's my family and I
won't betray him!".

"You have to turn him in," Mulder said inexorably.
"Otherwise more people will die. For you. Can you live
with that?"

"No! I won't!", she said suddenly and held Buster
tight. She ran with him for the door but Mulder was
faster and grabbed an armful of fighting cat. Buster
clawed and scratched but Mulder wouldn't let go. He
backed the cat into a coatrack, knocking a raincoat
off and maneuvering it around the cat. 

Darlene moved in on Mulder and started punching and
kicking at him, trying to make him lose his grip on
the cat. Mulder didn't know how long he'd last but
wasn't going to give up, even though he was sure that
Buster was chewing a hole through his arm. Buster
slowly stopped moving and Mulder began to hope that
the fight had gone out of him when Mulder began to
feel short of breath. Oh no...Darlene said Buster was
bright. The air felt thick, like breathing syrup.
Mulder hung grimly onto the cat and began to wheeze.

"See...Darlene! This is what Buster does...He can't
help himself!" Mulder gasped and slowly dropped to the
floor, curling himself around the cat. Darlene stepped
away from him in dismay. Mulder struggled to breathe,
pulling in air with an increasingly loud rasping
sound.

"Drop him and he'll stop it," Darlene shouted, in
tears. "Don't make him do this!"

Mulder fixed his glazed eyes on Darlene, "If...he
kills for you...you better see it. This is his gift to
you!" He coughed, trying to catch his breath but held
on tighter as the cat began to struggle again.

Darlene moved in again and began kicking and grabbing
at Mulder. "Let him go! Just let him go and I'll take
him away from here! Please, just let him go..."

Neither of them heard Scully enter the room.

"Get away from him," Scully barked at Darlene, who
slowly moved away from Mulder. Mulder lay on the
floor, his arms clutched tightly around the cat, a
firmly wrapped, struggling, hissing bundle. "Mulder,
can you hear me?"

Mulder didn't respond but he was still wheezing long
breaths into his lungs. Scully looked around and
spotted the filing cabinet. She opened the bottom
drawer, tossed out the files, then went over to Mulder
and carefully took the bundle from him. He resisted at
first but then gave in when he realized it was Scully.
Holding the cat at arm's length, Scully deposited him
in the drawer and closed it.

"He can't breathe in there," protested Darlene.

"He can breathe a damn sight better in there than
Mulder is now!" Scully bent over Mulder and scooped an
inhaler off the floor."Take this. Now, Mulder!" 

Mulder obediently inhaled.

He kept breathing doggedly and waited with Scully and
Darlene for Animal Control to arrive.

***

Thursday
3 a.m.
Potterville Animal Control

A dark figure carefully circled the building, then
crouched near the front door. "Good thing they never
updated the locks," Darlene whispered as she pulled
the master key from her pocket. "And even better that
they kept the spares at City Hall in the
Receptionist's desk."

The door opened and she went inside. The building was
quiet, with few animals here. Ah, there's the dog
kennel and here the cattery. She opened another door
and found the cage she was looking for. Green eyes
glowed at her from the darkness."I'm so sorry, Buster.
I came as soon as I could." She pulled him out of the
cage and cuddled him close, then carried him out the
door.

In the car his carrier sat on the passenger seat and
he gratefully went into it. She slid into the driver's
seat, closed the door and hit the gas as hard as she
could. She wanted to get the Hell out of this town as
fast as she could. She'd buckle them both in later
when she was far far away from here. 

She kept her headlights off to avoid being seen, but
doubted the sheriffs would find her. Heh, they didn't
go on duty till 6 a.m. They were home sleeping! She
turned into Potterville road and  increased her speed,
then turned on her headlights. Thank God they were
getting out of here! She gunned the engine, then
suddenly saw dark shapes running across the road..
three, no four cats stood in the road, their eyes
glowing in her headlights. She hauled the steering
wheel to the right to miss them.

The car veered sharply right, running off the road and
into the tall oak that had stood there for four
hundred years or more, then came to rest with its hood
wrapped around the tree. A few minutes later a small
gray cat climbed out of the window and stood
hesitantly on the grass. Three cats broke from the
bushes and moved quickly toward the gray cat, hissing
with tails erect. The gray cat backed away slowly and
then more swiftly as the other cats ruthlessly chased
it into the countryside.

***

Thursday
6 a.m.

"Mulder, wake up!" Scully stood next to Mulder's bed
when he pried his eyelids open.

"What? What's happened?" He sat up.

"Darlene Eggert broke into Animal Control last night
and took Buster," Scully explained.

"Damn!" Mulder got out of bed and pulled his slacks
out of the suitcase. Scully averted her eyes and went
on.

"There's more. She apparently ran her car off the road
early this morning and was killed instantly. The cat
carrier was broken open and there's no sign of her
cat. He's loose." Scully folded her arms in
consternation.

Mulder zipped his slacks, then buttoned his shirt.
"Then we don't need to worry."

"What do you mean? It's a killer. You said so
yourself," Scully protested.

"No, there's no danger now. Buster was stealing breath
to keep Darlene alive. He was killing for her. Now
that she's gone, he has no reason to kill." Mulder
heard a tap at the window and turned to look. "What's
that noise?"

Scully looked up. "What noise?" She followed Mulder to
the window. "There's nothing out there..."

"Yes, there is," Mulder opened the window and
retrieved the cat collar that Samson had just dropped.
"It has a tag on it...Buster. I think the problem has
been taken out of our hands by a higher authority."

***

Thursday 
1 p.m.

"Are you sure you have this solved? Was this cat
really the cause of our baby's death?" Alex asked
Skinner. Skinner's hands tightened around his drink.
He hadn't wanted this meeting, again without Matt.
There was too much danger here.

"Yes, we found the animal that did it. It attacked
Agent Mulder several times, so we have proof of what
it was able to do," Skinner replied, hoping his
discomfort didn't show.

He supposed it must have because Alex wouldn't meet
his eyes. "You don't think we could...It really is
over between us, isn't it Walt?"

"It has to be, Alex. We made our choices a long time
ago," Skinner replied."Whether you can be happy with
Matt or not is up to you. In either case, you wouldn't
be happy with me. We've changed too much. I've changed
too much."

She got up and gave him a watery smile, "Well then,
I'll kiss you goodbye.Good bye Walt." She placed a
delicate kiss on his lips, then walked out of the bar.


Skinner sat for a long time wondering whether he'd
made the right decision.

***

Saturday
Reno, Nevada

A small gray cat picked its way carefully through the
weeds. His ribs showed that he hadn't eaten much
recently, and his fur was matted. He felt safe now,
far far away from the angry ones who had driven him
from their territory. He had lost his person, felt her
die, and he grieved for her. He knew that man, the
tall one who'd trapped him, had something to do with
it and he'd get even with him if he ever saw him
again. But until then he had to survive. And maybe
find another person to be his human. He made his way
up a dilapidated front porch where he hears faint
coughing and gave a loud mew.

The door opened and a small boy opened it. The boy's
eyes grew wide when he saw the cat sitting there,
looking at him imploringly. The boy gave a wheezy
laugh of delight and bent over to pick up the purring
cat.

"Mom! Look what I found!! Can we keep him?"


The End