Mulder’s Creek: 18 Not Bliss Summary: While the rest of the gang tries to absorb the the fact that Sam actually exists, Mulder deals with the reality of two new siblings. Opening scene Mulder creeps into his brother’s room an hour after everyone else has gone to bed. His mother and the baby have only been home for a few hours, so both his parents have fallen into an exhausted sleep, comforted by sleeping in the same room for the first time in days. Mulder supposes that Sam is sleeping as well, since he didn’t hear any noise in the direction of the guest-room-turned-Sam’s-room. Price, however, is not asleep. Content to lie awake and wave his hands as his eyes focus on nothing in particular, he’s lying quietly under his alien quilt. Mulder is thrilled to catch the baby in one of his rare waking moments, so he carefully picks him up, making sure to gently cradle his head and neck with one hand and the rest of his body with the other. As Mulder settles into the rocking chair that’s near the window, he swears for a moment that Price gives him an approving look. The moonlight streams into the room, but neither of them notice. Mulder slowly rocks the chair back and forth as he thinks about his brother. This is the first opportunity he’s gotten to spend any time alone with him, and he’s enjoying it. He’s overwhelmed by the sense that Price trusts him utterly to be kind to him, and has no reason whatsoever to feel that Mulder has let him down. Though on one level he knows that his brother’s thoughts are much more shallow than that at this point in his life, he still worries irrationally about the comparisons his siblings might some day make: The one he could protect, the one he couldn’t. As if summoned by his thoughts, Sam appears in the doorway, looking a little lost. For a moment her long white nightgown, streaming hair, and bare feet make her look like a small woebegone ghost, and Mulder has to stop himself from shivering. He puts Price into his crib and turns to talk to her, but by the time he turns around the sound of light footsteps in the hall tell him that she’s gone back to bed without getting whatever it was she was looking for. ** Theme song- "Stranded" By Plumb ** Thursday 3pm, Leary home Mulder sits at his desk and picks up his pen. He taps the pen against the top of his desk as he tries to gather his thoughts and find a place to begin his letter. At last he starts to write. "Dear Arden, The last week has been strange beyond measure. I have a new brother, Price. At first his name seemed strange to me, but no more so than Mulder or Arden, I suppose. Within minutes of meeting him for the first time, though, the symbolism behind his name became glaringly obvious to me. He is the price my parents paid for happiness. By having him, they got what they wanted. I have no proof of this yet beyond half overheard conversations, but I’m sure it’s true. You see, in exchange for having another child, they got back one they’d lost. I don’t know how this came to be, but I’m certain that it’s the truth that my parents will not make me privy to. My search for Sam is over. She is home. Can you imagine? Instead of gaining one sibling, I got two. The shock was so great I nearly fainted, and that is no exaggeration at all, because sheer will power is all that stood between me and the suffocating grayness of unconsciousness. Though I don’t yet understand it, we were wrong about my parents. They wanted her back too. In the end, it seems they did even more than I did to find her again. But life is not bliss. I’m not sure that I ever thought beyond getting her back, because that alone was so vastly consuming that I didn’t have room, or the luxury, to imagine her living with us. My parents claim ignorance of where she’s been for twelve years, so they are, or at least act, as perplexed as I am. And she doesn’t say anything about it, either. Sam…doesn’t talk. At all. The first couple of days we were so overjoyed to have her home that we didn’t quite grasp that fact. I suppose we each privately thought she was just a quiet child, and was speaking to the others out of our hearing. By the third day, though, my parents compared notes and admitted their concern to each other. So the next day Dad took her to the pediatrician, the very doctor I gripe that the HMO requires me to see until I’m eighteen, and had her looked at. The doctor pronounced her hearing to be fine, but she just doesn’t speak. I could have told them that, her intelligent eyes tell us that she understands everything said to her. The doctor told my parents to give it time, but they are still worried. As am I. She’s using some signs, but only because we taught them to her. How can you go your whole life not speaking without learning some means of communication? My parents seem worried that she was kept in conditions where no one spoke to her her whole life. A secret that I keep, for a change of pace, is a fear that we’re the reason she isn’t talking. That perhaps until the very day we brought her home she was a chatterbox, like Doggett’s girlfriend Reyes. Some times, when we’ve approached her too softly for immediate notice, there’s fear in her eyes that she quickly tries to mask with a warm look. My parents ignore it, or don’t even notice it. Oh, Arden, she’s home, but I still worry about her too much of the time, and she’s as much of a mystery to me as she has ever been. But at least…at least now I can give her a hug and know that she’s safe perhaps for the first time in her life. Please send her your good thoughts, I think she needs them. Love, Mulder Mulder folds up the letter and sticks it in envelope, planning to mail it before his parents notice it; he tells himself that they’re not the only ones with the right to keep secrets. ** Friday morning, driving Scully, who has just earned the privilege of being able to use her father’s unneeded car, picks Mulder up at his house on her way to school. He slides into the passenger seat after a mumbled good morning, then stares fixedly at the dashboard. Scully chalks it up to another sleepless night. He startles her by saying, "I wrote to Arden yesterday. ‘told her about Price…and Sam." "Oh." She says, waiting for him to say more. But he doesn’t. Leaving him to his thoughts, she tries not to sink dangerously deep into her own as she drives. Sam, she thinks. When Mulder first called her a week ago to tell her that his brother had been born, there had been something wrong with his voice. She’d been afraid at first that the baby had been stillborn or born with something wrong with him. Then he told her that Sam was back and she realized that it was shock that had deaden his voice. She’d been shocked too, because until that point she never fully believed that Mulder really had a sister, even though she desperately wanted to believe him. She met the girl for the first time that night, shortly after the Learys not staying at the hospital had returned home. Mulder’s call had ended with a request for her to meet him at the house, so she quickly honored it. When she got there, she watched Sam timidly trail after Mr. Leary as he excitedly explained that the guest room was really intended to be her room, and if she wanted anything else done to the room, she could have it. Then the life drained from his voice when he realized that there weren’t any clothes in the bureau. He turned to Scully with a beseeching look, and asked her for a favor for the first time since she met him. "Scully…I don’t know anything about girl’s clothes. Could you help us out?" He asked her, sounding slightly desperate. An hour later Scully found herself with Sam and Mulder in Target, finding clothes for the little girl. Sam didn’t express an opinion on anything except sleepwear, so Scully picked everything out, and helped Sam try things on. She had Mulder carry the items they decided on so he felt useful. Mr. Leary decided to make himself feel useful by buying Sam and Mulder several PS2 games. In the end they left with several bags of appropriate clothes for a twelve-year-old, and a number of violent video games. Scully cringed at the total at the register, but Mulder’s father paid it with a grin, so she supposed the money wasn’t important to him and momentarily envied that. Sam spent the rest of the night watching Mulder and Scully take turns running people over with cars while playing Grand Theft Auto 3, and shaking her head no every time they offered her the controller. Scully wonders why they didn’t figure out she didn’t talk that very night, since her silence must have been obvious. She pulls into the parking space and smiles at Mulder. "Another morning I managed to get us here in one piece. Imagine that." Mulder grins, and gives her an impulsive hug, which surprises her. "What’s that for?" "Just ‘cause." He tells her as they get out of the car. Scully decides to accept, rather than question, his sudden good mood. "You know, any time you have a spare hug lying around that you want to get rid of, I’d be glad to take it off your hands…" "Oh, really? I’ll keep that in mind…Hey, you think those short little legs of yours can keep up?" Mulder asks, racing her to the front door. ** 4pm Witter home Doggett sighs as Reyes once again suggests that they go over and see Mulder’s new brother. "Come on, "Reyes cajoles. "He’s a week old and we still haven’t seen him for the first time yet. He’s going to loose that newborn look pretty soon-" "You say that like it’s a bad thing. Newborns aren’t cute, no matter what people say. Anyway, why do I have to come? You could go over yourself. I’m not going." "Yes you are. We’ll go over to pay our respects right now." Says Sheriff Witter, who startles them by suddenly appearing. "It’s about time we go over and congratulate the Learys on their new son." Sheriff Witter herds them out to his car, because he occasionally likes to drive his own vehicle. Reyes smiles, but Doggett reluctantly gets in the car. When he thinks back very hard, he vaguely remembers Mrs. Leary being pregnant when she helped out at the end of the year party at the preschool. He has a slightly less fuzzy memory of running into Mulder and his dad over the summer while shopping, and Mulder telling him that he had a new baby sister. But by the time they started preschool again in the fall, there was no baby. Cynical even at four years old, Doggett decided that Mulder made up the whole thing, and continued to believe it until a week ago. Not that Mulder brought her up to me after the first few times, Doggett reminds himself, because it made him cry to be told he was fibbing. Doggett can’t help feeling guilty as they drive. ** As soon as they’re shown in, Reyes asks Mrs. Leary if she can hold Price. Mrs. Leary smiles and puts the baby in her arms. Though she is cooing about how cute the littlest Leary is, Reyes is also studying the baby quite intently. He doesn’t seem to mind the attention, and it’s almost as if being held by strangers is already so mundane after a mere week’s existence that he takes it as par for the course; he silently and contentedly studies her back. Making one more comment on the preciousness of the baby, Reyes hands back the baby and suppresses a sigh of relief. She’s not sure what she was looking for to mark him as different, but he seems to be a perfectly normal baby. Although she has been trying for a week to deal with Spender’s betrayal, and attempting to understand it, she hasn’t been entirely convinced that everything that Spender has told her is false. Even though she’s concluded that he’s at least insane if not evil, she wonders if he might know something of the truth, since he believes himself to be a product of the experiments he described to her. Price, she thinks as she grins at him, isn’t after all. ** 7pm, The Ice House Mulder gives Skinner a grateful look that the other boy doesn’t notice. Mulder is thrilled that there is one person this week that is asking him answerable questions, instead of the hard ones that he’s been fielding all week at school from overly curious classmates. None of Skinner’s questions are about Mulder’s feelings or where Sam has been for the last dozen years. "So what are your parents planning to do about school for the rest of the term?" "My mom decided that since she’s on maternity leave from the station anyway, she’ll home school Sam for the rest of the term so she won’t be ‘the new kid.’ There’s only a month left, and since she doesn’t talk, my parents didn’t want to send her to school until the fall." "So they think that she’ll be talking by then." Skinner shrewdly guesses. "They certainly hope that her first word will come before Price’s. Dad took her to a specialist yesterday, and he seconded the opinion that there’s nothing physically wrong with her, so she should be able to speak. Whether she will…"Mulder shrugs. "At the moment they are chanting ‘give it time’ but I figure that it won’t be long before they start trying to bribe her to attempt to speak." "Are you against that idea? And does she make any sounds at all?" Skinner asks with his voice alight with curiosity. Mulder holds up a hand in surrender. "One question at a time. No, I don’t object to them bribing her. I still think that they’re to blame at least in part for her disappearance, so they have a lot of making up to her to do. And as for your second question…I heard her laugh once or twice, but that’s it." The look on Skinner’s face makes Mulder wonder if he’s going to demand an elaboration on elder Learys’ suspected involvement, but instead Skinner says, "Wow, I can’t remember the last time Reyes was quiet for as much as hour at a time. It must be weird." "It is, kinda. But I guess it would be weirder if she had talked and then stopped. It is kind of spooky, though, how she can approach you without you hearing her…I don’t know how many times this week I’ve almost screamed when she’s suddenly appeared in a darken hallway." Mulder tells him with a sheepish grin. "Can’t be too many times." Skinner observes, "Since you’ve only had her home for a week." "You would think so, but she tends to get up in the middle of the night and wander. I wish I knew what she was looking for, so I could help her find it." "Does she walk down the hall then peer into the rooms?" Skinner asks. "Yeah…how did you know?" "Well, I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with your sister, but before Mom went completely off the deep end and had to be hospitalized, she did the same thing. I asked her why once and she told me that it made her feel better to check on us to make sure we were still there. Your sister is in an entirely new place, back with her long lost family, so maybe she likes to reassure herself that you’re really there." "Wow, Skinner, you should major in psych when you get to college, since that makes a lot of sense. She only looks in at me and Price, though…"Mulder trails off looking slightly dismayed. "Have you or your parents tried getting her to write stuff down to answer questions?" "We’ve tried, but all she does is shake her head no. I’m pretty sure that I saw her write in a journal, though, so I guess it’s a matter of not wanting to write stuff down rather than being unable to. She reads a lot so my parents aren’t too worried about it, and don’t seriously worry that she can’t. They say it’s part of ‘adjusting.’ I bet you can tell they’ve been doing a lot of their own reading." "You’ve all got to do a lot of adjusting, what with a new baby and a new almost-teenage girl in the house. I wish you all a lot of luck!" Skinner exclaims, smiling. A customer comes in before Mulder can thank him, so Mulder returns his attention to his burger and fries while Skinner waits on the woman. ** Monday night, Leary home Scully could have probably predicted it, but Mulder himself is slightly surprised that he’s having yet another sleepless night. He supposes that it’s not so uncommon a complaint amongst people living with a new baby, but Price sleeps quietly. His parents have already fondly commented a score of times that they finally got an easy baby. Mulder wonders a bit each time they say it in his hearing if he’s supposed to feel guilty about keeping them up when he was small, because he doesn’t. He figures that it was his job to keep them on their toes, and he’s still semi-dedicated to that mission. No, he repeats to himself as he yawns, it’s not Price that’s keeping me awake. It’s really that conversation with Dad. Because he’s too tired to stop himself, he surrenders to the impulse to replay the entire conversation in his head again. ** After Scully went home and Sam fell asleep that first night, Mulder asked his father an important question. "Dad, how did we get Sam back?" "She was dropped off at the hospital a few minutes after your brother was born." Mulder frowns. "I know that, but I mean… did you and Mom know you were getting her back? " "Someone called us today and told us that we would." Mr. Leary says, but the look on his face prompts Mulder to think he’s being lied to. They had to know before today, Mulder thinks. "Who was it?" Mulder asked impatiently. His father stares off into space for a moment, and Mulder thinks he’s not going to answer, but then he does. "I don’t know." "You don’t know who called, or who dropped her off?" Mulder asks, wishing his question had been clearer to begin with. "Neither, Mulder." "Do you know where she’s been for the last twelve years at least, Dad?" "No, Mulder I don’t. I have no idea where she’s been between the time she left this house and when she showed up at the hospital earlier today. I didn’t ask." "Dad!! How the hell could you not of asked??" "Look, Mulder, I was told not to ask questions. That was the condition of getting your sister back. If I asked questions we weren’t going to get her back. So I chose not to know the answers and have my daughter again instead. "Mr. Leary said angrily. "I don’t want you to bring this up to your mother, do you understand me?" Mulder mumbled, "Yes, sir." Then left the room. ** Each time he replays the conversation the more certain he is that his father knows more, perhaps a lot more, than he’s shared. But how to prove it? He asks himself with a sigh. ** Tuesday evening, McPhee house Reyes stares at the blank screen and screws up her resolution. She has finally decided that in her game of cat and mouse with Spender, it’s time for her to explore her more feline qualities. She roughly grabs the keyboard and begins to type. Fowley, I kept your advice about Mulder in mind. His little brother was born a little over a week ago, and I got to go see him over the weekend. Besides being a beautiful infant, he seems like a normal little boy, so perhaps he’s like Spender claims he is- one of the babies where their genetic monkeying didn’t "take." (You know, Mulder and I discovered something sort of horrific about his past, and we can’t decide if we should go to him about it before we tell the police.) Which of course, is all to the better as far as the Learys’ are concerned with, to be sure. I’m really writing because I’m concerned about you, though. It’s been weeks since I heard from you, and I’m really worried. You must have had your baby since you were due before Mrs. Leary…Did they let you keep him or her like they said? They don’t seem like the type of people who are likely to keep their word. Is your baby normal? Is it even…a baby? I mean you were talking about the weird things they could do now, so I worry how human the products of this experiment even turn out to be, not that I think your child could be a monster or something. And most importantly, are you ok? I’m really really worried about you too, not just your baby. I’m…If I don’t hear from you right away, I’m going to go see your grandmother. I think that you might need more help than I can give you by being supportive. I’m sure that a woman as wise as she is will be able to think of ways to get you away from those people, and if she can’t, you’ve said that your dad has some clout with people too, so… Anyway, let me know that you’re ok, I’m on pin and needles here. Reyes She hits send and wonders how Spender will take the idea of her contemplating going to other people about Fowley’s "problem," since he was so adamant that no one else should know about the situation. Though she’s usually sweet-natured, she can’t help but allowing herself a nasty little smile at the thought of Spender having kittens. ** Wednesday night, Leary home Scully is lying on her belly on the Leary’s living floor with the entertainment section of the newspapers spread out before her. She’s propped up on her elbows, and Mulder is tempted to knock her down to see what her reaction would be. Before he can act out his fiendish plot, she pokes the paper with a finger and calls him over. "It is playing tonight after all. Did you still want to see it?" She asks, still pointing at the black and white ad. "Sure." He tells her, suddenly realizing that she might have just saved him from her wrath. "I’m always up for a little bit of live action comic book heroes." Scully sits up and gives him an appealing look, which makes him immediately suspicious. "Mulder… Do you think we should ask Sam to go with us? Most kids like this type of movie, and I’d sort of like to get to know her better." Mulder slaps his forehead. "I can’t believe I didn’t even think of asking her… some brother." He says sighing dramatically. "I don’t think you’re that bad." Scully tells him, holding out a hand, which he takes to pull her up. "Thanks. She’s up in her room, right?" "Yeah, let’s go ask her right now." Sam nods eagerly when they ask her, and Mulder adds an item to his mental list: Sam likes Spiderman. He’s already decided to figure her out even if it kills him. ** Since they are inordinately thrilled that Mulder and Scully have included Sam in their plans, Mulder’s parents give them an excessive amount of money for the concession stand. Mulder, sitting between the girls, glances over at his sister and smiles to himself because her entire lap is swallowed by a giant tub of popcorn that she’s happily munching on. Mulder pops a couple of sour patch kids into his mouth and offers them to Scully and Sam, both of whom decline. Mulder shrugs and decides that they’re an acquired taste. As the trailers roll, Mulder is surprised to see one for a film called "Men in Black 2, "since he has never heard of the first movie. It seems sort of neat, but something about it nags at him. Suddenly he realizes what it is with a jolt. He leans over and asks Scully, "Isn’t that the FBI agent we talked to??" "I don’t know Mulder, but it sure looks like him." "Weird. I wonder if he was just an actor rehearsing for the role or something when we saw him." "I guess so. That whole thing was pretty strange…"Scully trails off with a shrug. Mulder is enjoying the movie, and he is content that Scully and Sam are too. It’s not exactly what he was expecting, but it’s action packed and Kristen Dunst is pretty so he decides that it is worth the price of admission. Mulder’s enjoyment of the movie is suddenly marred as he watches a particular scene in the movie. Parker’s aunt is being harassed by the Green Goblin, and it somehow triggers something in Mulder. His stomach roils and a memory swarms up from the depths of his subconscious so fast that it threatens to engulf him. Mulder misses the next few minutes of the movie as he desperately tries to make sense of what he just remembered. He thinks that he’s fine by the time the lights come on at the end of the movie, but Scully gives him a concerned look and asks him if he’s all right. He gives her a weak smile and tells her that he must have eaten too much popcorn. ** Thursday afternoon, Leary home While their father is at work, their mother takes Price to a well-baby check up, leaving Sam and Mulder alone for a couple of hours. Before she leaves, Mrs. Leary pulls Mulder aside to talk to him privately. "Are you ok with being left alone with her? I’m sure she won’t give you any trouble, but with her not talking…" "Don’t worry, Mom. If she needs something I’m sure we’ll figure it out." Mulder reassures her. Mrs. Leary tires to look like she agrees. A few minutes after their Mom leaves, Mulder goes into the living room to see what Sam is doing. She’s watching one of Mulder’ Batman Beyond DVDs, and for a moment there’s a pain in his chest as he wonders why another teenage hero has so engrossed her attention. To calm himself he decides to ask if she’d like a snack. Sam grins up at him then twists the fingers of one hand on the palm of the other, and then tilts an "L" towards her mouth. Mulder thinks about it for a moment then asks "Cookies and lemonade?" and is rewarded with a vigorous nod. "Lemonade? Ick. If you want it…I think I’ll stick to the more traditional milk as an accompaniment to cookies." He says as he walks out of the room. When he returns with their snacks, the credits are rolling on the screen. Mulder gives her cookies and the lemonade, and makes a quick decision. He looks at Sam, and says quietly, "I’ve finally remembered clearly." She tilts her head to indicate she’s listening, but says nothing. Mulder takes a shuddering breath. "The night you were taken, I mean. I had shadowy memories of it for years, but last night I remembered it all for the first time. You were still sleeping in my room, because the paint in the nursery was barely dry, and mom was afraid there might be fumes. It was a totally ordinary summer night, and I went to bed not long after mom and dad put you in your crib. I suppose I fell asleep quickly. I fell asleep at any rate." Mulder pauses to see if she’s listening, and he sees that her eyes are locked on his face. "I woke up at some point, because there were people in my room. I started to cry out, but a large hand was clamped over my mouth. Another hand pushed my chest down into the mattress, pinning me. I tried to move my head, but I couldn’t much because of the hand over my mouth. When I rolled my eyes to the side, though, I could see that there was someone reaching into your crib. I tried to scream at them to leave you alone, but the only sound that escaped under that hand was a muffled keening. "The person who had you ran out of the room, and I heard him clatter down the stairs. But the other man didn’t let me up, still. He leaned down, and his breath was foul as he whispered to me. He told me that they were going to be watching, and if I got out of my bed, they would kill you. I believed him, and once he was sure of that, he left. I lay there, frozen, for the rest of the night. "I wouldn’t get out of bed the next morning, because I thought that they might still be watching. Eventually Dad dragged me out of bed, screaming. I hit him with my fists and kicked, but he was still gentle with me. Finally I told them what had happened, and they already seemed to know you were gone. They told me to forget about it. "And for the next five years, they kept telling me to forget about it. To forget about you, that there ever was a you. When I was nine I was old enough to know that I shouldn’t try to talk about you, but I never forgot about you. Never. "I don’t know how much you trust our parents, and you probably won’t tell me, but... I love them and fear them a little bit both. I was never, and still can’t, able to understand how they could try to forget about you, like you were a kitten that ran away or something. Their seeming lack of concern has made me suspicious, and I’ve almost always known if I wanted to get you back I couldn’t rely on them for help. "In fact, this year I tried as hard as I could to find you. I knew in my heart that you were still alive, and that you needed me. That I needed you too. I thought I was getting close to finding you, but I never expected to find you standing in a hospital room. "I still wonder what happened to you, and maybe to some degree I always will, since there really is no way to recapture twelve lost years. But we have each other now, so even if we’ve gotten to a late start…I just want you to know that when you’re ready to tell someone what happened to you, I’ll be ready to listen. I’ll always be ready." Mulder finishes, feeling parched from speaking so long. Sam gives him a long look, and for one hopeful second he thinks she might say something. Instead she throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight. Mulder decides to settle for that. ** Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Must ("Free Child") Marry Me Jane ("Blue Light") The Verve Pipe ("Hero") And Toad the Wet Sprocket ("Something to Say") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 19 Moose Mayhem Summary: Suprising events lead Mulder to ponder the question- is there a connection between rampaging animals and a local genetics lab? Opening Scene The strains of a pop song on the cd player make the floor vibrate as Mulder walks down the stairs towards the living room. He’d gone to his room to find something, and didn’t expect to see the sight he’s greeted by as he pauses on the landing. Scully and Sam dance around the room, laughing as the song progresses. Mulder sits on the stairs and watches them, awestruck. If someone had told him six months ago that he’d now be watching his sister and his girlfriend spin by in their own joyful orbits, he would have laughed at them, and said it was impossible. Mulder decides that he’s had a radical overhaul in his summation of what is or isn’t possible. As Sully sings along to the song "Won’t you stay? Won’t you stay? Forever and ever and ever," he decides not to, and instead sneaks into the living room and joins their dancing, much to their amusement. ** Theme song- "Stranded" By Plumb ** Saturday morning, McPhee home It doesn’t surprise Reyes very much to see that she has a message from FLindley. After going several weeks without hearing from "Fowley" one well worded message has gotten a response soon enough. Reyes settles into her chair, preparing to enjoy reading the message. 6/1 Dear Reyes, I’m sorry to have made you worry, I didn’t mean to. Things have gotten weird, though, so I wasn’t able to write back to you. First I got caught trying to send you a message, the risk of which we both knew existed from the outset. They didn’t punish me or anything, but they kept me under closer surveillance until I had my baby. You were right to think that they weren’t to be trusted. I barely got to see him before he was whisked away from the room, and I haven’t seen him much since. I’m glad that the Mulder’s brother is normal, because….my son is not. I think some of the drugs they gave me, since they thought he was one of their hybrid babies, damaged him. It’s really too terrible to talk about, so I’m not going to elaborate. I must be a terrible person, but…I can’t help but be almost relieved that they are taking care of him, and won’t let me have him back. I think it will make returning to my real life easier this way. I’d prefer not to talk about this whole mess when I get home, you know, so I can just put it all behind me as quickly as possible. Hey, what did you discover about Spender that would make you consider going to the police? I doubt he ever committed a crime, so I don’t know what could possibly be in his past that would be so dangerous. If I were you, I think I’d talk to him about it before doing anything rash. See you soon, FLindley Reyes rolls her eyes, and wishes that bad things will happen to Spender. Of all the terrible ploys to keep her from talking to Fowley about this, he has to invent a deformed baby that’s too painful to talk about. She supposes that he doesn’t claim the baby died because having it alive somehow forwards his sick little game. Well, she thinks, I am going to talk to Fowley when she gets home, you jerk, and I think she’ll be very interested in how her life has been going according to you. Maybe I’ll even tell her about who you really are. ** Sunday morning, Witter home When Doggett pads downstairs to look for something for breakfast, he’s surprised to see his Dad and brother sitting at the kitchen table, eating pancakes and laughing. Sheriff Witter smiles at his youngest son and says "Hey, let me make you some pancakes. Your brother has a story that you’ll love." Doggett blinks and says, "Thanks for the pancakes Dad." Then turns to his brother with an expectant look. Kersh grins and starts his story. "Ok, so one of my friends who’s on the force in Boston swears that he saw this happen when he was walking the beat yesterday afternoon. Seems that some guy lifted an elderly woman’s purse, and by the time he caught up to the guy, the thief was screaming bloody murder. Not to mention that the guy smelled like crap and had it all over his hands. Once he got the crook and the old woman to the station, to book the crook and take her statement, he was able to piece together what had happened." "Which was what?" Doggett asks, dying from curiosity. Kersh’s grin transforms into a broad smile. "Here’s where it gets interesting. It seems that the woman was walking her dog when the man accosted her. She told my friend that she hated the idea of carrying around a pooper scooper, and the idea of carrying around a baggie of dog poop was even more horrifying since she often ran into friends while on her walk. So to compromise she’d bought an old purse at a thrift shop, so she could store the offending baggie out of sight until she got home." "Oh no." Doggett remakes, seeing where this is all going. "Anyway, this method was working great until the guy nabbed the purse. She tried to yell at him what was in it, but he took off before he heard her. So he gets about a block away and shoves his hand in the purse to find out what he’d gotten. Apparently his prize was less than pleasing to him. My friend figures that’s the last purse that man will ever attempt to steal." Kersh says laughing. Doggett laughs too, finding it surreal, if pleasant to be included in a shared joke between Kersh and their father. He takes the next shift cooking pancakes. ** Monday, Capeside high school The TV is center stage in the classroom. The man on the screen is middle aged, thin, wearing thick glasses and a blood spotted lab coat. He’s outdoors standing next to a wood-chipper into which he is throwing rubber chickens while screaming "It’s not a biological imperative!" He repeated this ritualistically, even while a pile of shredded yellow rubber grew next to the machine. At last his screams fade away as does the picture. The teacher shuts off the television, and begins to address the class. "This is an example of vague symbolism used to manipulate viewers into thinking of worse things, in this case the slaughter of animals. This example is, of course, produced by a group of militant vegans. Other examples of this method include…" As the teacher drones on, Scully finds herself paying very little attention, which she supposes is normal for June. A sudden scream pierces her thoughts, and for a moment she looks at the television, confused, because its screen is blank. Then she notices that a few of her classmates have just bolted from their seats and run towards the windows. She slides out of her chair and joins the crowd at the windows. The screamer is a student, who she supposes was part of a class having their lesson outdoors. This student isn’t staying with his class however, but is running around aimlessly. Since there are three squirrels with their teeth sunk into his arms, drawing blood, Scully doesn’t blame him. Eventually his teacher tackles him and gets the crazed animals off of him without being bitten herself. Scully’s teacher wisely realized that trying to gain control of the class while the drama played itself would have been a futile effort at best, but orders everyone back to their seats as the bitten boy is lead back into the building. ** Talk of the boy’s strange attack was the buzz in the lunch room when Scully joined her friends at their table. Mulder smiles at her as she sits and goes back to debating with Doggett. "Doggett, I don’t think it’s normal for squirrels to attack people, not singularly, and certainly not in packs." "Three is hardly a pack." Doggett scoffs. "And maybe he did something to scare them." "Maybe." Mulder says grudgingly. "But I still think that there’s something strange going on." Scully shakes her head and turns to Reyes. "What’s all that about?" "Oh, you know, another rousing round of skeptic vs. believer." She says rolling her eyes, then looks more serious. "The kid is suffering the misfortune of being administered a series of rabies shots. I don’t think he’s going to be back to school for a couple of days…" "The poor kid." Scully says, then tries to steer the conversation to more pleasant lunch-time topics. ** 3pm, Leary home Mulder puts his bookbag down and wanders over to the kitchen table to see what Sam is working so hard on. From a distance he thought she was doing some of the homework that their mother assigned her, but up close he could see that she was using colored pencils to draw in an art pad. Mulder suddenly remembers his parents making a fuss because she somehow indicated to him that she wanted the paper and colored pencils. So his father when out right then and there and bought the highest quality ones he could find. Mulder thought at first that it was silly to buy professional quality art supplies for a child, but looking at her picture, he is stuck by how skilled at drawing she is for someone so young. The picture is flawless, and it is creepy. Mulder feels the hairs on his neck rise as he looks at the picture. In the foreground of the picture there are a lot of pine trees, densely packed, grudgingly giving enough room for a narrow path that leads up to what Mulder assumes to be a cottage. There’s something sinister about the way Sam has drawn the cottage, though Mulder can’t figure out what about it gives him that impression. There are only a few windows in the cottage, and the pencils’ shading makes them all look dark and abandoned. Except one. In one there’s a figure half swallowed by shadows, who almost seems to be peering out of the window. Mulder is seized by an urge to ask Sam if this picture has any significance to her, and her kidnapping, but he knows what will happen if he does. She’ll look up at him with luminous hazel eyes, so like his own, and give him an innocent look that gives nothing away at all. Instead he runs up to his room and grabs his camera, intending to take a picture of her drawing. His parents gave him the camera for his birthday, after he expressed interest in photography, and it’s as high in quality as Sam’s art supplies. As Mulder is rushing back down the hallway, he hears a noise from Price’s room, and looks in the open door. Price, who has apparently just woken up, gives Mulder a sleepy look through the bars of his crib. Mulder blinks, and realizes that Price’s eyes are still midnight blue. Though his parents assume that the baby’s eyes will change to brown or hazel like Mulder’s and Sam’s, there is no indication yet that his eyes actually will. Price gives a small yawn and falls back to sleep even as Mulder watches him. He’s tempted to take Price’s picture too, but fears that his mother will kill him if he wakes the baby up, so he trots back down to the kitchen. Sam doesn’t even seem to notice that he takes her picture. She’s concentrating that hard on the drawing. Thursday 5pm, the video store Doggett is stocking the shelves with newly returned videos when he hears the bell on the door jangle to announce that a customer has come in. He turns towards the door and tries to keep his welcoming smile from sliding off his face when he sees Krycek walking towards him carrying a large bag over one arm. "Hey, Witter, just the person I hoped to run into." Krycek says, grinning broadly. "Hi. What’s up?" "Well, since you were so helpful with finding a way for me to convince Sandy to go to the prom with me, I wanted to thank you and show you my tux." He says, unzipping the garment bag. As Doggett looks at the black and white tux, he figures that Krycek will look as much like an overgrown penguin as anyone else there that night. "Looks good, man." "Thanks!" Krycek exclaims. "For everything, I mean." He gives Doggett a good-natured cuff on the shoulder and leaves the store. Doggett stares after him. Did that really happen? He thinks, shaking his head in bewilderment. ** 9pm Friday night, McPhee home Reyes brings a huge bowl of freshly popped popcorn into the living room. Skinner sniffs appreciatively, and Scully looks up and smiles. "It wouldn’t be movie night without popcorn." Reyes says, putting the bowl on the coffee table. "You know, Scully, around these parts, Reyes’ skills as a popcorn maker are renowned." "So my ears deceive me? A compliment from my brother? Why thank you, Skinner." "You’ve earned it. It took a lot of work on your part to garner the necessary skills. Remember the first time to tried to make popcorn-" "Skinner." Reyes says with a note of warning in her voice. "- and you accidentally knocked the cover off the air popper, and the popcorn exploded all over the room while we scrambled to unplug it?" Skinner finishes with a grin. "Anyway, let’s start the movie." Scully says, hoping to distract them from an argument that could lead to bloodshed. "Sure." Reyes says happily. "I love ‘Drive me crazy’. " "Because it reminds you of Doggett’s attempts to drive you crazy, I bet." Skinner says leaning as far away from Reyes as possible. "No hitting!" Scully admonishes Reyes as she leans over Scully and tries to swat her brother. "I wonder if Mulder and Skinner are having a good time, too." Scully muses. "Who cares? It’s time to start the movie." Skinner says, settling back against the couch as the credits roll. "Ow! I thought you said no hitting!" Skinner says to Scully as he rubs his shoulder. Both Reyes and Scully stick their tongues out at him. ** 11:30pm Fishing poles poke out of the rear passenger window as Doggett’s borrowed car sails down the highway back towards Capeside. Mulder turns his face towards the open window, enjoying the rush of night time air. Doggett turns down the radio to get his attention. "Looks like we’ll get back home before curfew." "For once." Mulder says with a snort. "Do you think we’d ever get busted?" "You maybe, if you’re by yourself, but me? Forget it. As soon as they see my face they say ‘dammit, Witter, go home!’ There are some perks to being the sheriff’s son." Doggett says with a grin. "Just don’t say that in front of your brother. He’d probably force his friends to write you up to spite you." "Duly noted." Doggett says. "Hey, you know how the prom is tonight?" "How could I not? Most of the older girls in my classes spent the day saying ‘oh no, how could they be so cruel to assign homework this weekend? The prom is tonight!’ "Mulder says, rolling his eyes. "Anyway…The strangest thing happened yesterday while I was at work. Krycek came in and thanked me profusely for that bad advice I gave him about that ditz and showed me his tux." "It doesn’t seem that cold out for June…" "What on earth are you talking about?" Doggett asks, confused. "Hell froze over, didn’t it?" Mulder asks with a grin. Before Doggett can retort, the police ban radio on the dashboard comes alive with a squawk. "…accident…rt 212…Capeside…" "Looks like we ought to expect a delay." Doggett says with a sigh. Five miles later they come to the scene of the accident. There is a scatter of red and white glass ahead of the car, which has sustained heavy damage to the front end. Doggett is about to drive by when he sees the car’s occupants huddled by the side of the road, waiting for the police. Doggett pulls over to the side of the road. "What gives?" Mulder asks. "Did you see who it was? Krycek and his date. I don’t like them, but I’m not going to leave them here all alone until the police show up." Doggett says, getting out of the car. Mulder sighs and scrambles out after him. ** The heavy bass of a southern rap song spills out from the damaged car, because no one has thought to turn off the radio. Krycek and Sandy look alert, if upset, as the boys approach them. "You guys ok?" Mulder asks as they get nearer. Sandy is huddled next to Krycek, her face streaked with tears, but she’s not crying now. "Yeah, we’re fine." Krycek tells him. "Just bruised." Doggett stares at him. "You have a nasty gash on your arm, Krycek." Krycek looks at his arm, his expression dumb with surprise. Apparently he hadn’t noticed his injury before now. "Oh." "We heard on Dad’s police ban radio that the police are on there way. I’m going to go back to the car and use the CB to tell them to send an ambulance too, ok?" Doggett asks. "Yeah, sure." Krycek says, sounding a bit vague. As soon as Doggett walks away he turns to Mulder with a stricken look. "I’m not going to get the deposit back on the tux, huh?" "Probably not." Once he’s back in the car, Doggett puts on the car’s emergency flashers, and grabs the CB from off of the seat. "This is sheriff Witter’s son, Doggett. My friend and I came across the accident scene reported a few minutes ago. Over." "Is the cruiser there yet? Over." "Not yet. There’s a minor injury also, one of the two passengers is going require stitches. Over." There was a momentary pause, then the voice came back. "An ambulance is on the way. Over." Doggett grabs a flashlight and runs around the car to the trunk, hoping that what he’d seen in there a week ago is still there. Mulder stops his attempts to reassure Krycek that his mother won’t kill him when Doggett rejoins them, carrying an unopened water bottle and a pair of gleaming white handkerchiefs. "My dad’s aunt sends him these by the truckload, so I’m glad to have found an unopened package of them in the trunk. Krycek, help is on the way, but I think we should try to slow the bleeding while we wait." Krycek nods. "Mulder, can you roll up gently his sleeve?" Krycek winces as the fabric goes over his wound. Doggett pours some of the water on the cut to wash out debris, then carefully wraps the handkerchiefs around the cut. "That should help some." "So…what happened?" Mulder asks. Sandy, who looks more together during a crisis than either of them would have ever dreamed of giving her credit for, explains. "We left the prom a little while ago, and were on the way to an after party, when suddenly a moose-" "There aren’t any moose in Capeside." Doggett objects. "There was one today." Sandy insists." A moose ran out in front of the car, so we stopped dead in the road, figuring that we'd wait for it to cross the road. After a couple of minutes it left, so we started driving again, then the damn thing dove out in front of the car, like it had just been waiting for us to move to attack." "It was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen." Krycek adds. "That does sound strange…"Mulder says, give Doggett a "is that possible?" look. Doggett shrugs slightly. The ambulance suddenly arrives, killing all further conversation. ** 12:39 am, Leary home Mulder stifles a yawn as he opens the front door. He cringes as he hears his father’s footsteps, and braces himself for being lectured. To his surprise, his father doesn’t raise his voice, but instead calmly asks "Why weren’t you home a half hour ago?" "Unforeseeable circumstances. "Mulder says, aiming for levity. Mr. Leary doesn’t smile. "We were on the way home when we ran across an accident scene. It was two kids from our school, so we didn’t feel right just leaving them there, so we waited with them until the cops and the ambulance came." Mulder explains. "Someone got hurt?" "Yeah, but not badly. He just needed some stitches for a gash in his arm." "What happened? Was there drinking after the prom or something?" Mr. Leary asks, his brow furrowed in concern. "No, nothing like that. But it’s the strangest thing… Sandy claimed that she and Krycek were on their way to the prom’s after party when a moose attacked their car." "There aren’t any moose in Capeside." "Yeah, that’s what I thought too. The police pointed out thick brown fur caught in the car’s ruined front end, though." Mulder told him, not bothering to add that the officer only showed them to earn brownie points with Sheriff Witter. "That is strange." Mr. Leary agrees as Sam pokes her head into the room. Mulder blinks in surprise, he hadn’t heard her come down the stairs. "Oh, that reminds me…I agreed to let your sister stay up until you got home. She has a surprise for you." "For me?" Mulder asks, and Sam smiles broadly and nods vigorously. Sam leads him up the stairs and into his room. She snaps on the light and he immediately sees the surprise. The top of his dresser, which usually had nothing on it, now had a five gallon fish tank, with a bright blue base, sitting on it. Inside the tank there is a blood red Siamese fighting fish, and a small gray catfish. "Wow, Sam, thanks!" "I think she saw how hurt you looked when Scully and Reyes accused you of only liking fish to ‘torture’ them." Mr. Leary uses their euphemism for fishing. "So she drew me a picture and insisted we go to the pet store." Mr. Leary says with a fond smile at his daughter. Sam grins back and her hands dance- first in a circle near her face, then swimming away from her body, thus signing ‘pretty fish.’ "You’re right," Mulder instantly agrees. "They’ve very lovely fish. I guess I’ll have to name them…"Mulder thinks for a moment, then his face brightens. "I know, Ebert and Roper!" Mulder decides that Scully might be having a bad influence on his sister as she pulls her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes. ** Dusk, Sunday Mulder twinned his fingers around Scully’s as they took a peaceful walk at the tail end of a relaxing weekend. Mulder was happy to have time alone with her, since it seemed that his time over the past few weeks was being booked on him before he had any say in it. "What are you thinking about?" Scully asks, breaking their companionable silence. "You." He tells her truthfully. "Oh? What about me?" "I was thinking about how it’s almost summer, and how it will be nice to be out of school and spend more time with you. And wondering if you’d ever dye your hair blue." "Why would I dye my hair blue??" Scully asks sounding very puzzled. "Why would anyone? I saw a girl on TV with her hair dyed blue last night." "You’re weird, Mulder." "Thank you. What were you thinking about?" "Oh, how nice it is that after I get home I’ll still have a couple of hours to study for finals before Bessie brings Alexander home from our aunt’s house." Mulder stops and gives her a serious look. "I think the romance is dead, Scully." "You." She says, throwing her arms around his neck. Mulder laughs as his arms go around her waist and pull her close enough to smell her flowery shampoo. After a moment Scully disappoints him by pulling away. "What’s going on over there?" She asks, a note of concern in her voice. Mulder turns around and sees a flurry of black-tipped wings. Then he realizes that the seagulls seem to be dive bombing a couple who is having a picnic in the park. The man throws a jacket over his and the woman’s heads as they try to avoid the sharp beaks. Mulder and Scully notice that there’s some sizable sticks laying around, so they grab them and rush at the birds, hoping to drive them away. After a few angry parting shrieks, the birds fly off. "What the heck happened?" Mulder asks the man. "I don’t know. We were just sitting here having our picnic when they flew at us. We figured that they wanted the bread, so we threw it to them, but they ignored it and attacked us instead." "Are you hurt?" Scully asks, not seeing any blood. "I don’t think so." The woman says, giving herself and the man a look-over. "If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I bet we would have been." "Yeah. Thanks a lot." The man adds. "Glad we could help…"Mulder says faintly, thinking that something smells rotten in Capeside. ** 5:30 Monday morning, McPhee home The twins make an effort to spend quality time with their father before school once a week. This week the morning is a bleary Monday so, with the exception of Mr. McPhee who is dressed except his tie, it’s a pj breakfast type of morning. Skinner, dressed in an Incubus t-shirt and sweat pants, pours out three glasses of orange juice, and yawns. Reyes, wearing bright orange Tigger pjs that she’d rather die than have anyone outside the family see her in, pulls cinnamon buns out of the oven and puts them on a plate to cool. Mr. McPhee tunes the small TV that lives on the kitchen table to the morning news. They’re eating breakfast when something the monotonous news caster says catches their attention. "…the latest animal attack took place a few hours ago when a pair of rampaging black bears attacked a bus full of nuns, who were on their way home after a spiritual retreat, when the bus stopped at a rest area so people could stretch their legs. None of the passengers was seriously hurt, but driver was bitten badly, and received 28 stitches before being released from the hospital. The bears could not be found after the accident. Local scientists are baffled as to why so many normally peaceful animals, like raccoons and deer have suddenly taken to attacking people. And in Red Sox news…" Skinner looks at his father, intending to ask him his opinions on the attacks, but Mr. McPhee speaks first. ""You know that they're still going to lose this year. Every year they start off strong, then piss away their lead…"For a moment Skinner is baffled, then concludes that his father must be talking about baseball. Skinner shrugs. "You don’t think that they could win the world series this year?" "I don’t think they’ll ever win one in my lifetime. The curse of the bambino." He says ominously. Reyes shakes her head and heads up stairs to get dressed. ** Mulder slings his back pack onto his shoulder, and he’s about to leave the house when he hears his father on the phone. The older man’s angry tone intrigues him, so he decides to take a minute to indulge in his favorite pastime- eavesdropping on his parents. For a moment he wonders if it has anything to do with the mystery people who had Sam, but after a moment he realizes that it’s about a completely different mystery all together. "…I don’t know where you got your information, but I assure you that Candling industries has nothing to do with the animal attacks." Mr. Leary says heatedly, then listens to the person on the other end. Mulder wishes he could hear the other side of the conversation, but decides that beggars can’t be choosers. "The accusation is as unfounded as it is absurd. Candling has no more created genetically altered animals than it has done anything to cause animals to run amuck. Yes, you can quote me on that." Mr. Leary slams the phone down, and Mulder decides that it’s a good time to walk out the door. It’s Mulder’s conclusion that whoever called must be a reporter who has gotten the idea that Mr. Leary’s workplace is somehow responsible for the string of bizarre animal attacks. Mulder sighs deeply as he makes his way down the stairs; as much as he’d like to take his father’s word on it, that’s proven to be a mistake in the past, so he wonders if Candling has more to do with the animals than his father’s angry statements would lead people to believe. ** As they’re leaving school that afternoon, Mulder throws his arms around Scully and Doggett’s shoulders. They both give him suspicious looks. He ignores that and says, "Neither of you has plans for tonight, do you?" "Why?" They ask him in unison. "I think tonight would be a good night for an adventure." Mulder grins. "You think the night before the first day of finals would be a good night for an adventure?" Scully asks him in disbelief. "Why yes, yes I do. What are you worried about anyway? You’re going to ace the next three days of tests just like you have every other test you’ve ever taken." Mulder says, an exasperated note in his voice. "Mulder does have a point, you know. You’re a genius, what do you have to worry about?" Doggett says with a smirk. "I suppose that you’re all set to go off on this adventure, without even knowing what he wants to do." Scully says sharply. "You know me too well. Anything to avoid studying." Mulder interrupts. "Anyway, a little bird told me this morning that my dad’s company might have something to do with animal attacks, and I thought a little snooping might be in order." "You mean trespassing." Scully says flatly. "Let’s not quibble over words." Mulder tells her. "So Doggett, are you in?" "You bet, Man. Sounds like fun." "Scully?" Mulder asks. Scully sighs deeply. "Yes. If only to keep you two out of trouble." "Great!" Mulder exclaims. "Let’s meet at 7…" ** 7pm "It’s the next building. Park next to the other vehicles so it’ll look less suspicious." Mulder tells Doggett. "What could look suspicious about three teenagers just happening to find themselves at the genetics lab that one of their parents works at?" Scully says sarcastically. "Hey, at least he didn’t order us to where black and put on ski masks." Doggett quips. Mulder sighs. "All we’re going to do is look in the windows and see if we notice any animals matching the deceptions of the attacking ones." "Right. Look for moose." Doggett says, nodding. The three of them walk softly around the dark building, and shin lights into the windows. After the peer into the windows of every room on the first floor, they admit defeat. Mulder’s shoulders slump as they walk back to the car. "They wouldn’t keep animals about the first floor, right?" "Squirrels, maybe. But I’d like to see someone get a moose or bear up a flight of stairs or in an elevator." Scully tells him. "I don’t get it. I was sure from how angry my dad sounded that Candling was involved some how." "I don’t know Mulder." Doggett says. "What was that?" He jumps when he hears a crash. "I don’t know." Mulder tells him, switching on his flashlight. "Wait, I think it’s over there." They approach the source of the sound quietly and soon find themselves about a hundred yards from half a dozen raccoons. "Don’t make any sudden moves." Mulder whispers. "What do we do now?" Doggett whispers back as the raccoons begin to walk away. "Follow them." Scully suggests. "What??" Doggett and Mulder ask, shocked. "You promised me an adventure, and frankly, this has sucked so far. If we follow the masked bandits over there, we might find out what’s really going on." Scully tells them. "Besides, Bessie makes me carry pepper spray, so if they get to close we can douse them before we get bitten or scratched." "Well, you heard the lady." Mulder says, and they begin to follow the raccoons at a safe distance. ** To their surprise the raccoons do not scamper off into the woods, but instead they take a left out of the parking lot and walk slowly down the road. Not knowing what else to do, the kids shrug and trail after them. After a mile or so they become concerned that they’ll walk too far away from the car to be able to get back to it without being completely exhausted, but then the whisper to one another that an animal with short legs probably won’t be going too far. As it turns out, they’re right. Eventually the raccoons turn onto a dirt driveway and begin to mull around a small white house. "Did you hear that?" Doggett whispers. "Hear what?" Mulder asks. "That high pitch whine." "Nope." Mulder says with a shake of his head. "You must hear it though." Doggett says to Scully. "Sorry. I don’t hear anything either." Doggett pulls at his ears. "It’s painful, I can’t believe you guys can’t hear in." "Guess you have bat ears." Scully tells him with a grin that soon fades. "Bat ears…Doggett, how bad is the noise?" "I dunno, what do you mean?" "Does it annoy you enough to cloud your thinking?" Scully asks. "Not really, but if I heard it all the time it might drive me crazy." Doggett tells her. "Wait…" "What if there’s a noise that most people can’t hear driving the animals nuts?" Mulder asks, catching on. "How would we prove it, though?" "Look for moose." Scully tells him, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. The house is dark except for a light on the third floor. Figuring that who ever was up there wouldn’t be able to get to them quickly even if they were spotted, they confidentially roamed the property. It wasn’t long before they found the moose out in a shed. Other sheds littered the property, and peering into their depths revealed many other animals, of all different sorts, both wild and domestic. Mulder leaned against a window, hoping to catch a better look when Doggett tugged on his arm. "We’ve got to go. Now." "Why?" Mulder asks unhappily. "Because the noise stopped and I think someone is looking at us from out that window." Doggett says urgently. Mulder pulls Scully away from another shed that she’s looking into the windows of and explains what’s going on. The three of them run out of the yard and make their way back to the car. As soon as they’re there, Mulder lends Doggett his cell phone so he can call the sheriff. ** Tuesday lunch time, Capeside high "… and my Dad said that the guy used to work for Candling doing animal research, but was fired when his behavioral experiments became unethical. Apparently he decided to keep experimenting on his own, and didn’t care who got hurt or what the animals did." Mulder concludes, finishing filling people in on what he’d learned that morning. "Just think, if it hadn’t been for my good high pitch hearing, we might not have figured it out." Doggett adds with a grin. Reed looks at Mulder with a concerned look on his face. "Are there any adults in this town who aren’t completely nuts?" "You sound really jaded for someone who has only lived here for four months." Reyes says, with a smile. "So, what’s going to happen to the animals now?" Scully asks anxiously. "Well, he didn’t do anything to psychically change them or really hurt them, so they took the wild ones to be released, and sent the domestic ones to the shelter so they can get decent homes. Hopefully." "Oh…"Scully says, tuning out the rest of their conversation. ** Wednesday afternoon, Potter home Scully opens the door and lets Mulder in, but he’s startled as something small and reddish runs over his feet and nearly makes him loose his balance. Mulder looks at Scully and raises his eyebrows. "What is that?" "He, not it." Scully says sounding slightly indignant as she reaches down and scoops up the wriggling bundle of fur. "That still doesn’t tell me what kind of animal HE is." Mulder points out. "Oh, Mulder." Scully sighs and runs her fingers over the little animal’s head, which it seems to enjoy. "It’s a puppy, obviously." Mulder didn’t think it was obvious. "What’s his name?" He asks, staring at the puppy’s pointed little muzzle. In fact, he thinks, if he didn’t know better he would have thought it was a very large- "I named him Fox." -fox kit. "How could you have named the ppoor little animal Fox? That’s so…goofy." "I think it has a certain charm to it." Scully says, thrusting the animal into Mulder’s hands. "Don’t you think he’s sweet?" As Mulder struggles not to drop him, he can’t help but agree. "He is…but how did you get him?" Mulder wonders how an animal that weighs a fraction of what his brother does could be so much harder to hold. "Well, last night I told Bessie how bad I felt about how your dad said that all the animals being sent to the pound for new homes. And I told her that there was a Finish Spitz and her puppies there…and when I got home from school Fox was waiting for me." "Oh, so that’s what kind of dog it is." Mulder says, snatching his fingers away from the puppy’s pink tongue. "And what you were looking at when I pulled you away from that shed." Mulder realizes with a grin. "Yup. Bessie said that since we were living here without any ‘menfolk’ it might be nice to have a protective dog around. I think that’s an excuse, though, since Fox isn’t likely to get big enough to scare anyone, probably only 30 pounds or so that the most. She really did it to make Alex and I happy, but won’t admit it. It might even be that she’s feeling guilty that she’s sending Alex off to preschool this summer, but whatever the reason, he and I are both thrilled. The vet said Fox about eight weeks old and healthy as a horse, so to speak, so he should be around for a good long time." "I think she made a good choice picking this particular puppy…Fox does just about match your hair." Mulder says with a grin as he reaches for the new leash hanging by the door. ** Thursday afternoon, Leary home The afternoon that school ends is a bright sunny one, and Mulder itches to be outside, doing anything at all. Mrs. Leary smilingly agrees that the fresh air would do everyone some good, so she puts some sunscreen on the baby, and has Sam and Mulder help her put up a hammock that is meant as a Father’s day gift for Mr. Leary, deciding it’d be criminal not to give it to him a couple of day early. The three of them make short work of it, and take turns testing it, while keeping an eye on Price. Price is less interested in what his family members are doing than in what the fauna in the yard is. A flurry of butterflies amuse themselves as Price watches from the comfort of his baby seat. Mulder looks over and decides that his brother is probably attracted to the bright colors, because he remembers something from his health class’s child development unit, about young babies being able to see bright colors better than dull ones. At any rate he decides that his brother looks quite content as the insects continue their complicated dance far above his head. One with wings as blue as Price’s eyes dips down and nearly lands on the infant’s nose, then flits away again. It bothers Mulder, for a reason he can’t quite put his finger on, that the butterflies scatter the moment Price’s eyes droop and he falls asleep. ** Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile ** < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Kylie Minogue ("I can’t get you out of my head") Tori Amos ("January(Black Dove)") And Outkast ("The Whole World") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 20 Many Unhappy Returns Summary: The beginning of Summer brings about Fowley's return, and to Scully's shock a figure from her past also resurfaces Opening scene "..’and that’s when Billy noticed that his new friend had green skin.’ Well, it should say gray, but we’ll forgive the writer, won’t we boys?" Mulder asks. Price, who is lying in Mulder’s lap doesn’t seem to have an opinion either way, but Alex, who is cuddled up next to Mulder nods wide-eyed. The just turned three-year-old has idolized Mulder since he and Scully rid the boy’s room of whatever it was that had been in his closet. "‘ You’re an alien! ‘ Billy squeaks. Smart kid, that Billy. I suppose we should give him a break since he only looks to be six or seven. ‘ What planet are you from?’ " Mulder decides that it’s sort of fun to babysit again, although he’s not actually being held responsible for anything. Bessie and his mother are downstairs in the kitchen discussing recipes for ‘summer food’ so he decided to offer to keep the little ones occupied out of the way. If any troubles arise he fully intends to hand the boys off to their mothers, but so far everyone seems to be having a good time. After another fifteen minutes Billy and his little green friend finish their adventure and promise to keep in touch, which leads Mulder to wonder if you can spend a postcard via the space shuttle. As soon as Mulder shuts the book, Alexander looks up at him and says, "I like that book a lot. And I like you, too." Mulder smiles and is almost knocked over when Alex throws his arms around him, which, fortunately, doesn’t seem to phase Price at all. "I wanna be like you when I grow up." The boy tells him solemnly. Mulder swallows his laugh before it has the chance to leave his throat. "You know, I think you should tell your Auntie that." He replies instead in an equally solemn voice, though his eyes dance with merriment at the thought of Scully’s reaction to that. ** Theme song- "Stranded" By Plumb ** Saturday 11:30am, Logan Airport The bags go around and around on the baggage coral before Fowley finally spots her luggage and grabs it. For a moment she wonders if most "lost" luggage is merely snagged by a person who can easily pretend that its theirs. She shrugs and begins scanning the crowds. Before she’s finished looking, her grandmother hurries towards her and throws her arms around her. "Oh, Fowley, I’ve missed you!" Feeling slightly strangled by her grandmother’s embrace, she gasps out, "I’ve missed you too Grams, but I can’t breath." Grams blushes and lets go of her. "Oops, sorry. How was your trip?" Fowley wonders for a moment what the most tactful way to answer that question would be. "It was better than I thought it was going to be." "Well, I’m glad to hear that." Grams says warmly. "I can’t wait to hear what you did in Europe. I heard about some of it from your mom and dad, but I’d like to hear your version of it too, but that can wait until tomorrow if you’re feeling jet lag or anything." "I see you found her first, Mrs. Lindley." A voice says from behind Fowley. She turns around and finds Spender standing behind her. "Mr. Morgan here was kind enough to keep me company on the ride up." Grams explains. "That was nice of you, Spender." Fowley tells him, with a smile. "It’s good to see you." "I’ve missed you." He whispers to her as they walk behind Grams on their way to the car. Fowley blushes. ** 2pm, the Atlantic ocean The sand castle grew to gigantic proportions as Skinner helped Sam work on it. Mulder and Scully had helped her work on it as well, but gave up on it when Doggett and Reyes insisted that they play volleyball. Sam works on making turrets while Skinner methodically digs a moat around the castle’s base. Reed, who is oblivious to both the volleyball game and the sand castle building, lies on a towel and reads Jacob I Have Loved by Katherine Patterson. Scully glances at the cover and smiles, figuring that she should have known that someone who cringed away from any and everything that hinted of fantasy and the unknown would have instead chose a book that explores the perils of the human condition. The ball gets away from Scully and Reyes when Doggett spikes the ball over the net. "Point our side!" Doggett crows after the girls who run for the ball. They finally caught up to it right before it enters the water. Scully tackles it, and Reyes nods her head in Reed’s direction. "I can’t believe Skinner isn’t interested in him. He’s a nice guy, really sweet-" "And extraordinarily attractive." Scully adds. "Scully!" "Reyes, you have no idea how many girls just ‘happened’ to start coming to the Ice House regularly during his shifts. I haven’t the heart to tell them that they don’t have a shot in hell…besides, it’s good for business." "Your sister is…using him." Reyes says with a note of disgust in her voice. "No she’s not. He knows that the girls come there to stare at him. Besides, he gets more tips than Skinner and I do put together." Scully laughs. "Well, I guess that’s ok then." Reyes agrees. Doggett watches as Scully and Reyes slowly walk back towards their side of the volleyball net. "What do you think they’ve been giggling about?" "I bet they’ve been talking about how good we look in our swim trunks." Mulder tells him, while taking a moment to admire theirs. "I bet you’re right." Doggett says, preening a little. Fortunately for them, neither girl hears their narcissistic exchange. ** 7pm, Potter home Scully bounds up the steps and cheerfully picks up Alex from where he’s sitting in front of the TV watching Bob the Builder and dances with him around the room. Since the little boy is used to the teenagers in his life acting strange, he takes it all in stride and squeals in delight. After a few moments he demands to be put down. "Bob’s on, Auntie Scully! I wanna watch Bob and Rolly fix the road. I’m missing Wendy and Scoop. Put me down!" His small face looks very indignant, so Scully has to try very hard not to laugh at him as she sets him on his feet. Bessie walks in the room, her expression unreadable.. "Did you have a good time at the beach?" She asks Scully in an oddly flat voice. Scully doesn’t notice at first so she starts off animatedly, "Yes, I had a great time. We played volleyball and helped Sam make a huge, intricate, castle. Mulder took some pictures and promised to get copies for everyone." Scully trails off when she notices how grim Bessie suddenly looks. "So um, we had fun…Bessie, what’s wrong?" "Sit down, Sweetie, I got some incredible news this afternoon." Scully sits down on the couch, wringing her hands and wonders what new disaster has come into their lives now. Bessie sighs and starts to explain. "After lunch I got a phone call from the prison where dad is-" "Did something bad happen to Dad?" Scully asks, her voice rising in fear. "They went to his cell to get him for lunch, and… he wasn’t there." "What do you mean he wasn’t there?" "The best they can tell, he and his cell-mate bribed a weak willed guard into letting them out. They’re looking all over the city for them, but they haven’t found any signs of them anywhere. The only good thing I can say about it is neither of them is considered to be ‘armed and dangerous’ so there aren’t orders to shoot them on sight." Bessie says, sounding very depressed. "Why would he do it? He could have gotten out on good behavior, and he threw it all away!" Scully shouts, though not really at Bessie. Alex flinches, and looks away from the TV for a moment, unsure what’s going on. "Come on Scully, he’s been in jail for four years, and wasn’t going to eligible for parole for another four. Maybe he just got tired of waiting." Bessie says, defeated. "So now what do we do, wait for him to show up here, then call Doggett’s dad to take him away when he does?" Scully asks bitterly. "Unfortunately, that’s exactly what they expect us to do." Bessie tells her. ** Sunday 2pm, Shaws Supermarket Doggett is pushing his cart through the isles, getting the items on the list and anything else that strikes his fancy. Since his mother trusted him with her debit card, he takes cart blanche when it comes to picking up other stuff. He’s about to grab a bag of potato chips when he sees something that makes him do a double take. "Hey Fowley, how are you?" He crows, walking over to her. "Does Reyes know you’re back yet?" "Hi Doggett. No, I just got in yesterday, so I haven’t had time to call her or anyone else yet. I will tonight, though, I think." "I guess I ought to tell my Dad you’re back too, ‘cause he wanted to set up another lesson for target practice when you got back." "What? Target practice?" Fowley asks, having no idea what he’s talking about. "Oh, you weren’t here, but after Chad started sending my sister death threats he had us all learn how to properly handle firearms. The funny thing is that Scully was the best shot, even though she’d only gotten out of the hospital a few days earlier. We wouldn’t admit it to her, but we boys were all jealous." Doggett says with a smirk. "Scully was in the hospital? Just how much have I missed since I was gone?" Fowley asks him. "If you’ve got a few minutes I can try to give you the condensed version." Doggett says with a grin. "Sure, why not. A few more minutes here in the store are a few minutes less I have my grandmother fussing over me." Fowley replies, only half kidding. "Ok…you left right after Christmas, but if I remember what Reyes told me, you haven’t seen anyone since Christmas Eve, right?" He pauses long enough for Fowley to nod her head. "I’ll start from there then. That night Scully finally got the nerve to kiss Mulder, right under the mistletoe, though she claimed that she was just following ‘the rule.’ Reyes and Skinner saw their mother with disastrous results. Their mother was snippy to Reyes and mistook Skinner for his dead brother, Tim. Then you left, which caused a stir, and Mulder became convinced that his driver’s ed instructor was a murderer, but he was just being an idiot, because the so-called body turned out to be a CPR dummy. Scully and Reyes started to hang out together right around then, which surprised everyone since Scully had never shown an interest in female friends before then. Then, on MLK weekend, Mr. McPhee and Mr. Leary decided to take me, Mulder, Scully, Reyes, Skinner, and Skinner’s then-boyfriend, Ethan, on a ski trip, but we headed towards the slops before the grown ups and ran into an unexpected blizzard, which threw us off course. We waited out the storm in an abandoned lodge, which Reyes and Mulder are convinced is haunted. Scully and I still maintain that even though there was weird stuff going on in there, it was probably done by a squatter, not a spirit. Right after we got back Scully took up some baby-sitting, and came down with vacillic pneumonia, which is the type that comes from chickenpox complications and is fatal in more than 1 in 4 people, and ended up in the hospital for just about forever, more than a week. It scared everyone, especially Mulder and Bessie to death. It was just a few days before Valentine’s day that Skinner and Ethan officially broke up, and my sister’s stalker tracked her to Capeside, and my dad made us all learn how to properly handle fire arms like I said. A new boy named Reed moved into town, started working at the Ice house, and seemed to be treating Skinner like a jerk, but it turned out that he was just shy around him because he found him interesting. Valentine’s night Mulder schemed with Bessie to bring the valentine’s day dance to Scully, who was still home from school because of doctor’s orders. He asked her out that night, and they’ve been dating ever since, not that they told me right away." Doggett pauses for breath, and Fowley tells herself, I am not jealous. I didn’t want Mulder, and I have Spender anyway. I’m happy for them, or I will be, and maybe this means that Scully and I can finally get along. Doggett finishes panting, and starts his tale again. "So a few days before my birthday, Mulder and I start to find evidence of what he claims was bigfoot. We saw something on my birthday, but I still think it was a hoax, though I haven’t been able to prove it. Yet. After that nothing of interest happened for a while, except for a grade-wide poetry assignment that you were lucky to avoid, though Scully did manage to write a nice poem for it. After that the lone gun men, which is what Byers, Langly and Frohike are calling themselves these days, published a weird ‘interview’ with Mulder and Scully about the two of them having seen an alien posing as Santa Claus back on Christmas Eve. You can make of that what you will, it just makes me more sure that those boys are nuts. Not long after that a pair of FBI agents came to talk to Scully and Mulder about that kidnapping case from November that you and Reyes helped my brother crack. Scully told me that she doesn’t think that they were actually agents, though, because they saw a movie preview about some sort of agents who look just like the people they talked to. Right after that we all went on a field trip to the zoo and I was forced to spend the day with Scully, which to tell the truth, wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and I convinced Krycek to climb into the monkey exhibit after he asked me for advice for impressing girls, and that turned out to be very funny, mostly because he didn’t get hurt but got into a boatload of trouble. "Doggett smiles at the memory." Reed followed poor Skinner around all day, and Skinner finally had to tell him that he just wanted to be friends, which has turned ok between them. After that I actually started to get along better with Kersh, and Scully and Mulder discovered that her nephew Alex’s fears about something being in the closet were not entirely unfounded because they really was something living in there. And Krycek thanked me for my ‘good’ advice, since the garbage I told him actually convinced that idiot girl he was trying to impress invite him to the prom. Then Skinner made us all hike to the summit of a mountain, and Krycek and idiot girl invited themselves along. Before they got too much on our nerves they took off, and Krycek fell in the river, which was also funny. A few days later Mulder’s brother Price was born, and, most shocking of all, his sister Sam who had been kidnapped as an infant, showed up from locations unknown. So now he has two siblings after having spent most of his life with none." "Wow." Is all Fowley can think to say. "That’s an understatement," Doggett grins. "Anyway, that bring us up through mid-May. In the last month Mulder’s sister has been as mysterious as ever, because she doesn’t talk, and if anyone knows where she’s been for more than twelve years, it’s her. Mulder is determined to figure it out, but no one seems to have a clue. Oh, and just recently there was a string of weird animal attacks. Even Krycek got hurt, which for once wasn’t funny. Mulder, Scully and I thought it had to do with the place his dad works at, and inadvertently figured out what was going on. It was all being caused by a former behavioral scientist who had snapped and was doing illicit experiments on all sorts of animals, including ones that he imported just to mess with. They arrested him and took care of the animals. I think that’s about it." Doggett finishes. "I never thought it was possible to miss so much in just six months." Fowley says, feeling overwhelmed. "Ha. I’ll bet. "Doggett says. "well, now that you’re back you’ll be in the thick of it all again, instead of hearing things second hand all at once. I’ll talk to you later, my mom will pitch a fit if I don’t get home with this stuff soon.. Bye." "Bye." Fowley calls after him faintly. ** 5pm, Leary home Mulder holds Price up over his lap and the baby gives him a dubious look. It might have something to do with what Mulder is saying to him. "Mul-der. Come on. Mul-der. You can do it." Mulder encourages him. Mrs. Leary starts to walk by with a basket of laundry, the stops and laughs. "Mulder!" she says, reaching down to gently ruffle Price’s dark shock of hair. "He’s only five weeks old, don’t you think you’re jumping the gun a little?" Sam shoots her a look, as if to say "that’s what I’ve been trying to tell him." "Maybe a little." He replies sheepishly. "How old are babies when they start to talk, anyway? Three or four months old?" "Oh dear. Maybe you should read some books on child development, son. They usually don’t start talking until they’re at least eight or ten months old." "That old?? It’ll be practically forever before he’s talking!" "Mulder, trust me, eight months goes by in a blink of an eye. He’ll be mangling your name before you know it." Mrs. Leary says with a fond smile. Mulder counts out the months to himself in his head. "So there’s no chance he’ll be talking by Christmas then?" "Well…"She says, taking Price from him. "Maybe your brother will be especially brilliant and talking at seven months old." As she walked out of the room she called to him, "Hopefully he won’t be the only one with something to say by then." Mulder quickly looks at Sam, and is not surprised that she has a scowl on her face. He walks over to her and gives her a quick hug. "It’s ok, Sam, don’t talk until you’re good and ready." It hurts him a little that she seems to shrug off what he says, and stalks out of the room as well. Mulder shrugs his shoulders and reaches for the abandoned laundry basket, and carries it to the laundry room. It’s only as he’s dumping the clothes into the washing machine that it hits him. When his sister was five weeks old, she’d been missing three weeks, and they had already stopped looking for her, at least according to Thaddeus Quinn’s article. For a moment, as he’s dropping tiny garments into the machine, he wonders why he didn’t think of it three weeks earlier, and is sort of thankful he didn’t. ** Mulder picks up the phone in his room and dials. "Hey Scully. Can we talk?" "Of course. What about?" She asks, teasing Fox with the phone cord as she talks. The puppy leaps at it, seeming to think that it’s moving of its own volition. "Sam. I inadvertently did something that lead to my mother saying something to upset her." "What did you ‘inadvertently’ do?" "I um…tried to get Price to say my name." Mulder confesses sheepishly. "Which was fine, then Mom and I started to speculate when Price would start to talk…" "Then your mom said something snide about Sam not talking?" Scully guesses. "More or less. She actually said maybe he wouldn’t be the only one talking by Christmas. Suppose she does, though, do you think it will take her long to catch up?" "Probably not. I mean, look at Alex, all of the sudden he’s gone from 2-4 words strung together to intelligible sentences, all in the matter of a month or two. She’s older, and very bright, so once she starts talking, I bet she’ll sound like any other kid her age. Although that assumes on thing, Mulder." "And what would that thing be?" He can’t help but sound slightly nervous. "It assumes that she can’t already talk. I don’t know about you, but I sort of have this feeling that I can’t explain, but I seriously doubt that she doesn’t already know how to talk and just doesn’t want to. "Scully explains. "I’ve thought of that too, but what reason would she have for not wanting to talk?" "What are your parents going to want from her the second she opens her mouth?" "An explanation of where she’s been, what’s been done to her, and by whom." Mulder replies automatically. "Exactly. What way to keep your secrets than to make everyone around you believe you can’t reveal them? Like I said, she’s very bright. And I’ll tell you something else, Mulder, I bet she talks to you before she talks to your parents." "I hope you’re right, Scully. I hope you’re right." Mulder says, then thanks her before hanging up. ** Monday morning, Lindley home Spender carries a box of donut holes and containers of chocolate milk in with him from his car. Grams waves to him as he comes up the walk, but doesn’t say anything to him because she’s running late. "Where is she off to in such a hurry?" He asks Fowley as he gets to the house. "Oh, she’s doing another volunteer project with her church." Fowley says, taking the food from him. "You brought breakfast?" "Yup. It seemed like a good idea at the time." He grins. "I love donut holes." "And I love you." Spender says in a teasing tone. "Oh, do you?" "Sure, let me show you." He says, throwing his arms around her. Finally, Fowley thinks as she snuggles against his chest, everything is all right. ** That afternoon, Ice House Reed is whistling to himself as he wipes down tables when he hears Skinner try to smother a burst of laughter. He straightens up, and looks over towards Skinner, the cloth still dangling from his fist. "What?" Skinner grins broadly and points out the picture window. "Yon fan club approaches." "Oh no." Reed groans. "Hey, go back to wiping down the tables. If they get a nice look at your butt, I bet they’ll tip more." Skinner suggests. Reed is tempted to give him the bird, but the girls are already coming in, so he just directs a dark look in Skinner’s direction. Reed really does need to finish wiping down the tables, but now feels subconscious because he knows there are eyes on him. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Skinner approach the table where the four girls are sitting, and hears faint murmurs of disappointment coming from that direction. He gives a small smile as he escapes to the back room to help Bessie get lunch ready. "They’re back." He informed her as he started making the salads he had heard the girls’ order right before he’d left the dining room. "So I take it you’re hiding?" She asks him lightly. "Well…"he hedges. "It’s ok." Bessie says, patting him on the shoulder. "They’re here nearly every day, so I don’t blame you for wanting a break once in a while." "Thanks for being understanding." "No problem. Scully said she thought it bothered you, and I think that’s a bit ironic." Bessie replies. "What’s ironic about that?" "It’s ironic, because she has never in her life noticed that anyone is staring at her, and it happens every single day. Mulder should be thankful for that." Bessie laughs. "I bet he is." Reed says with a broad grin, partly because of what Bessie said, and partly because Skinner is calling back that the girls have decided to have their meals to go. ** Tuesday morning, Lindley home Fowley lets Reyes in, and hugs her. "I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to talk to you much until today. Things have been so busy since I got home." "Hey, that’s ok. You’ve only been home for 72 hours, right?" Reyes says as they curl themselves up at either end of the couch. "So…are you sick of the questions about what you’ve been doing up until now?" Fowley laughs. "A little, but go ahead. I’d rather get the questions from a good friend, and saving randomly shouting ‘ I don’t want to talk about it!’ at strangers." Reyes hopes she doesn’t look as nervous as she feels. "So, um, your grandmother said that you were in Europe with your parents?" "Yup. As you saw when they took me, I was very un-thrilled to be going with them. But I agreed to, if I wanted to continue to living with Grams…"Fowley made a helpless gesture with her hands. "I remember." Reyes says, thinking of that terrible late December morning. "Anyway, I sulked for about a week, and wouldn’t even talk to them on the plane, which I still think they deserved." Fowley says with a grim smile. "But after that?" "After that I slowly warmed up to the fact that they’d brought me to I’d have been thrilled to be in, had I been in anyone else’s company." "So eventually you forgave them and spent the next several months in a lovely paradise over the seas?" Reyes asked. "Ha. You know, the view we get of Europe from books and so on is fairly romanticized. I don’t know if it shows, but I lost about ten pounds due to not liking the food." Fowley answers with a laugh. "I liked Paris, though, it was nicer there in February than it is here." "What about England?" "Well…the accents on those boys there is to die for, but the food…at least meat, potatoes and Yorkshire pudding is safe. It rains a lot there, which, gauging from the state of the grass, is something we could use here, huh?" "Yeah, early warnings about droughts have been coming in already. You don’t regret being back here, in that case, do you?" "Nope, no regrets at all. Here I have Grams, you, and Spender, so I’m happier. I mean, I guess I love my parents, not that they’ve ever made a lot of effort to know me, but you three…"Fowley trails off, wondering what she said to make such a strange look appear on Reyes’ face. "Did I say something wrong?" "No, no. I just…thought of something else. I’m glad you’re happy to be back." Even as she says that, she worries about what is going to happen when she tells Fowley the truth about Spender. "Hey, we should go shopping for sandals this week. This is no weather for hot feet." Fowley nods at her, and Reyes hopes that she’s already forgotten her reaction to what she said about Spender. ** Wednesday 1am, Potter home Scully was walking down a wooded path that seemed somewhat familiar. It was only as she approached the cottage at the path’s end that she remembered where she has seen it before. Instead of tar paper or wooden shingles on the roof, there were large peppermint hard candies nailed down. The siding on the cottage was made of chocolate wafer cookies, and the flag stone walkway were neco wafers, which Scully hated. As she got closer she saw that the shutters on the window were made of gram crackers, and knew, without even tasting it, that the windowpanes were made of a sugary substance that had hardened. She put her hands on her hips and looked hard at the cottage. She knew it was that cottage. The one she and Bessie helped their mother make, as they tried to celebrate that last grim Christmas before their mother’s death. It had been mere weeks before her death, and she had been so weak that the cottage was her only contribution towards decorating their home. Most of the decorating fell to Scully, who would have, under any other circumstances, been thrilled to be included and allowed to make decisions on the decorations for the first time in her life. Instead it hurt more with every box she opened. Scully was baffled as to how the cottage had gotten out in the middle of the woods, and even more so by the fact that it was now the size of a real dwelling. She walked around the house, pondering its impossibilities, when she thought she saw movement from within the structure. She rushed to one of the windows and peered in, not surprised that there was no furniture, since they hadn’t put any in it when it had been a mere gingerbread house. For a second she thought that she saw a figure rushing through a doorway that shouldn’t have existed, and she thought that from behind, even in that dim lighting, it looked a lot like her mother- "Come on Scully, wake up." A hand gently shakes her shoulder, so she finally opens her eyes to see Bessie looking down at her. For a moment she wonders if she was supposed to get up early for something, then realizes it’s still dark out. She sits up in bed. "What’s going on, Bessie?" Bessie snaps on the light on Scully’s night-stand, and the light causes them both to wince a bit. "I thought you should hear this from me, before anyone else, like Doggett maybe, tells you. A couple of hours ago, they caught the other prisoner, the one who broke out with dad. Apparently he wouldn’t say anything for a long while, but they finally got him to say where he thought Dad was headed. Here." "I thought we already knew that." Scully says, annoyed. "We suspected it, but now it’s more or less confirmed. I know it’s a hard thing to do, but if we see dad around here, we need to call the police and turn him in." Bessie says gently. Scully only nods and lies back down as Bessie leaves the room. Hard for you, maybe, she thinks. You grew up believing he was a good man, but me? I only got to think so for twelve years of my life. Then I found out he was having an affair while Mom was on her deathbed, and that he was selling drugs. No, it wouldn’t be that hard at all. ** Wednesday morning, McPhee home Reyes waits until she hears Skinner stirring in his room before she works up the courage to knock on his door. She spent most of the day before trying to figure out what to do about Fowley and Spender and came to no solid conclusions. "Come in." Skinner calls through the closed door. "Hey, what’s up? I thought it was dad." "Nope, it’s just me." Reyes says with a fleeting smile. "Do you think I could ask you some advice?" "Shoot." Reyes settles herself into his desk chair. "I’m not exactly sure where to start…Ok, so I have this friend, and I found out some really terrible things about her boyfriend, and I’m not sure if I should tell her or not." "This a girl from school?" He asks, and she nods." I guess it depends on what sort of things you found out about him. Has he been cheating on her or something?" "No, nothing like that. He’s been, um, spreading all sorts of rumors about her that aren’t true. And she thinks that things are still great between them." "I think you owe to her to tell her, then. She might get mad at you, but she’d be even madder if she found out later that you knew and didn’t tell her, right?" "I guess so. Thanks, Skinner." "No problem. So…are you up to watching a movie?" "Can it be Labyrinth?" "Sure." "‘ It’s not fair.’" Reyes quotes. "‘ You say that so often. I wonder what your basis for comparison is.’" Skinner replies as they go to find the movie. ** 3am Thursday, Potter home Scully’s eyes snap open, and she’s not sure why she’s awake. After a few moments she decides it’s a good time to go to the bathroom, anyway. While she’s washing her hands she notices that she’s really pale, and has dark circles under her eyes. At least it’s summer, so I can sleep late, she thinks, switching off the light. She peeks in Alex’s room on her way down the hallway, and notices that he’s curled up in a ball on his bed, and his thumb is half in his slack mouth. Bessie has been trying to get him to stop sucking his thumb, but he still does it at night some times. Scully wonders if he’s feeling their stress too, even though he’s too little to have any idea what’s going on. She sighs as she crawls back into bed and pulls a thin blanket back up over her. Even though it’s technically summer, she can’t sleep without a blanket and never has been able to. She lets her thoughts drift to the weekend just past, and how much she liked Mulder’s swim trunks. Its as she’s just about to give herself to sleep that she hears it. A sharp rap at her window. For a second she remembers her childhood fears of monsters, and is afraid to look at the window. Then she wakes all the way up and realizes what it must be. Her father’s unshaven face is pressed up against the glass. "Scully! I thought you’d never wake up. Could you let me in, sweetie? I don’t have a key any more." His muffled voice filters through the glass. "Bessie changed the locks anyway." "That’s ok, but let me in all right?" "Yeah, sure, just a minute." Scully says. Instead of heading to the door like her father expects, Scully runs down the hall into Bessie’s room. "Bessie, Bessie, he’s here!" "What? Who? Oh. Dad’s here?" Bessie sits up with a yawn. "Yeah, he just asked me to let him in." "You didn’t, did you?" Bessie asks, her voice raised in alarm. "What are you, crazy? Of course not." "I’ve got to call Sheriff Witter. I’m sorry, Scully." "Why are you sorry? I’m not sorry. I…I hate him, Bessie." Scully says slowly. "You don’t mean that, Scully." Bessie says, even as she fumbles for the phone. "Yes I do. "She replies, but Bessie doesn’t hear her because she’s already talking to the police. There is a cruiser on patrol only a mile or so away, so it only takes them two or three minutes to get to the Potter house after Sheriff Witter directs them to go there. Scully listens as the officers tackle her father, and put him in cuffs. There’s a lot of swearing as he’s read his rights. She can hear Bessie crying in her room, but Scully’s own eyes are so dry that they burn. She drifts to the front door and watches from the doorway as they stuff him into the back of cruiser. Just before the car door swings shut, Mr. Potter notices her watching and screams out "How could you turn in your own father?!" How could we not? She thinks as the officers back out of the yard. How could we not turn in a father like you? The air seeping into the house is cool for June, but her heated emotions keep her warm. ** 1pm McPhee home "Hello?" Fowley’s voice calls. "I’m in my room." Reyes calls back. She gives her computer a woeful look, then takes a deep breath. "Hey, you said you had something to show me on your computer?" Fowley asks as she enters the room. "Yup, it’s all set up." Reyes says, moving out of the way so Fowley can read the screen. She watches, and immediately sees a puzzled look cross Fowley’s face. "I don’t understand." Fowley tells her. "Read them all." Reyes urges her. It takes Fowley fifteen minutes to read through all of the e-mails to and from Flindley. When she’s done she stares at Reyes. "I didn’t send these to you." "I know. I mean, now I know, but I didn’t until about a month ago." "Do you know who sent them to you? Who was pretending to be me, and telling you such a sick story about me?" Reyes looks at her feet. "Yes." She says, finally looking up. "Who??" "Someone who claims to be an early product of such an experiment. Although I know now that that isn’t true either. " "Don’t #$%@ around, Reyes. Tell me who it was." Fowley says, beginning to get angry. "It was Spender, ok? When he got to your house right after your parents took you away he told me everything you supposedly told him about being targeted for some sort of genetics experiment. I guess that was a set up for sending me messages from you. I finally began to wonder if it was true or not, so I got some of Mulder’s friends who are good with computers to look into it, and found out that the e-mails were being sent from his computer." Reyes says in a rush, refusing to look her in the eye, so she doesn’t have to see the pain there. "I don’t believe you." "There’s more, as well. Mulder found out that the same people who kidnapped his sister took four other kids, and all but one of the kids besides her was returned to their homes." Reyes pulls up the article on the computer screen, and takes Spender’s kindergarten class picture out of her desk drawer. "This is the boy who was never returned. Four year old Scott Martin. And this," She holds the other picture up next to the screen, "Is five year old Spender Morgan." Fowley looks at the pictures and shakes her head in disbelief. Though her eyes are telling her that the boys in the picture are without a doubt the same child, her mind is frantically denying the evidence. "I’m not listening to any more of this. Goodbye." Reyes watches sadly as Fowley storms off, and wonders if she’s just given their friendship a fatal blow. ** Fowley’s feet bring her to the dock. The same dock Spender once fell from and drown. Although that turned out not to be the case. For a moment she’s grabbed by the urge jump off it herself, but then tells herself not to be so melodramatic. Even if what Reyes told her is true, which is something her mind is working its way closer to accepting, it’s not the end of the world. The more she thinks about it, even though it hurts to do so, the less she can concretely say she knows about Spender. Or at least the Spender that turned up alive and well in November. All she has to go on about what he was doing those months after his "death" are plausible denials that he was dead and a handful of conflicting reports he presented as the truth about happened to him. For all I know, she tells herself darkly, he could have spent that time as one of Mrs. McPhee’s floor-mates at the mental hospital. Even if nothing Reyes says is true, it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t really know him. So how can I love him? She asks herself. She feels her heart start to break as she decides what she has to do. ** 4pm Swan Pond Mulder has his arm around Scully’s shoulder as the watch the stately swans and, in his opinion, detestable ducks swim through the water. Scully turns her head, and he’s tempted to kiss her, but he senses he shouldn’t because she has something she needs to say. "She just doesn’t get it Mulder." "You have to look at it from her point of view. It’s hard for most people to accept that one person hates another of their relatives. Most people like to believe, that deep down we all love our family members because there is some sort of biological imperative that says we must. They tend to gloss over the fact that there are breaches of trust that are so significant that that sort of instinct to love can be ignored." "She feels guilty about this whole thing, even though she did what was right. And she’s mad at me for not feeling guilty. " "You can’t win." Mulder sums it up. "Nope." She says, sighing, and letting her head sink to his shoulder. "I’m sorry." Mulder says, wishing he could give her better advice. "I know. She and I will get through this, Mulder. Thanks for being here for me." Scully tells him, and tightens her embrace. "I’ll always be here for you." Mulder tells her, and finally kisses her. ** Friday night, Lindley home "I’m sorry that you and that Morgan boy aren’t seeing each other any more." Grams tells her. "I know how upset you must be." "I’m fine, Grams. You worry too much." Fowley tells her, then kisses her cheek. "Well, all right, dear. If you want to talk about it later…" "I’ll keep that in mind." Fowley says lightly as she walks out of the living room. She broke up with Spender three hours before, and for some reason it hurt her even more that he almost seemed prepared for that to happen. It makes her angry as well as heartsick. Once she’s in her own room, she quickly gets undressed and puts on a well-loved pair of summer pjs and sits down on her bed. She carefully brushes out her hair, not so much because it needs it, as to calm herself. That doesn’t have any effect on her mood, so she sighs and puts the brush away. She glances once at the door to make sure that Grams isn’t planning to come in for any last minute platitudes, then begins to rummage through her dresser. In the bottom drawer she finds what she is looking for: a package of Morley 100’s that only has one cigarette missing. She’d tried them once, and hadn’t liked it, so she’d just put them away and forgot about them. Now, however, she was willing to give them another shot. She skips tracks on a cd until she finds the song that had been on her mind since finding out about the whole mess with Spender. Then she lights the cigarette, settles herself on the bed, and fumes about the way life turns out some times. ** Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile ** < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Cool for August ("Hey you") Dishwalla ("Policy of Truth") And Fastball ("slow drag") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 21 When We Are Seven Summary: When one of Grams' friends seems to have mysteriously grown younger after winning a fountain at auction, Fowley and an uncharacteristically skeptical Mulder ponder one question: did she find the fountain of youth? Opening scene Mulder and Scully sit on the roof of the porch, and stare at the crescent moon. There’s just enough room there for them to stretch out their legs as they sit side by side. One cloud slowly passing the moon, veiling parts of it, but other than that the sky is completely clear. Hundreds of stars shine bright pinpoints in the night sky. "The stars like this sort of remind me of the light-brite I used to have when I was little." Mulder reminisces sounding wistful. "Maybe I’ll get you one for Christmas." Scully teases him. "There are stranger gifts." Mulder trails off and looks at the stars again." Do you know what the best part of summer is?" "No, Mulder, what?" Scully asks, her fingers seeking his in the dark. "I don’t know." "You don’t know?" "If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked, would I?" "You probably would, just to irritate me." Scully complains. "You sound irritated now, so I suppose I wouldn’t have needed to, were my goal to annoy you." Mulder says with a sage nod that Scully can barely see. "Mulder, promise me one thing." "Anything." He replies promptly. "Promise me you won’t go into law. That wouldn’t be fair to anyone." "That’s a little insulting…hey, I thought you thought I ought to be in the FBI." He reminds her. "God help us all." She laughs while Mulder gives her a puzzled look. ** Theme song- "Stranded" By Plumb ** Sunday 8:30am, Potter home Alex wanders into Scully’s room wearing Monsters Inc. PJs, which Scully has always found ironically amusing, and scrambles onto her bed. He bunches up her blanket while watching her get her shoes on and do her hair. "What’s up, Alexander?" Scully asks when she’s gotten bored of waiting for him to say something. "Mommy went to the Ice House already. She said to bug you for breakfast." He says, and Scully is impressed by how well spoken he’s become in such a short time. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised, because one of her mother’s favorite topics was how well she and Bessie spoke as little children. Scully is suddenly seized by a perverse desire to tease her nephew. "So…you want bugs for breakfast. Gotcha. Do want lady bugs or dragon flies?" "Aunt Scully!" "Well, maybe we could get a few ants or grasshoppers, but no bees or anything else that stings. They could sting us while we eat them." Alex stares at her, and the expression on his face seems to indicate that he thinks she’s lost her mind. "I want cereal and toast!" Scully reaches down and pats his curly head. "Why didn’t you tell me that to begin with? I thought you wanted bugs." Alex follows her to the kitchen, still giving her suspicious looks. He relaxes once she pours his cereal into a bowl for him. Scully pours some for herself, and thinks about how she and Bessie are still barely speaking. Though she assured Mulder that she and her sister would soon put things to rights between them, it’s taking longer than she thought it would. Bessie seems to be waiting for her to admit that she doesn’t hate their father, and Scully feels she can’t admit something that’s not true. At least she has to talk to me at work, she thinks as she butters their toast. ** Monday afternoon, Lindley home Fowley mopes around the house, trying to fight off the urge to pick up the phone and call either Spender or Reyes. She doesn’t want to call Spender, because she’s half-afraid that if she speaks to him, she’ll find herself taking him back without thinking things through. And she doesn’t want to call Reyes, because she’s not ready to forgive her. She knows that it’s unfair to blame the other girl for the problems in her relationship, since Spender is the one who caused them, but she suffers from blame the messenger syndrome. She can’t help but think that if she didn’t know that Spender was unbalanced, he wouldn’t be, and she could continue believing that there was nothing wrong between them. Which is why she feels so resentful of Reyes for forcing her to accept things she would have rather not have. She tells herself that it does no good to keep thinking about her former boyfriend and her estranged friend, but she can’t stop wondering what they’re doing. Maybe there are other people in Capeside she should think about instead… ** Tuesday morning, Leary home "Mulder, you have a guest!" his mother’s voice floats up the stairs. He figures that it’s Scully, so he takes the time to save his game before leaving his room. When he gets downstairs he surprised to see Fowley standing in his kitchen. "Sorry I took so long, I thought it was Scully." Mulder says sheepishly. "And she doesn’t mind waiting?" Fowley asks innocently. "Oh, she minds, she’s just reigned to it." Mulder says with a grin. "What brings you over here? I haven’t seen much of you came back." "Yeah, and that’s my fault. I need to spend more time with friends…anyway, the reason that I’m here is that I could use some help." "Sure, what do you need help with?" Mulder asks. "Apparently Grams’ church had an auction last week, and now I’ve been roped into, I mean asked to, deliver some of the items people won. However, some of the things are way to heavy for just one person…" "I’d be glad to help. I’m surprised that Reyes and Skinner didn’t volunteer to help, though, since their dad is big into the ‘community service’ thing. Which is how we all ended up volunteering with the kids, right? " "They’re busy." Fowley says quickly. She doesn’t actually know their plans for the day, since she didn’t ask them. She opts for a fib instead of explaining everything to Mulder. "I’d suggest we ask Scully, but…she’d kill me if she heard me say it, but I think she’s too little to be much help. Just you and me then, ready to go?" "Sure. We have to go to the church first to pick things up." ** Fowley and Mulder have sweat on their brows by the time they are struggling with the last piece from the auction. It is a large ornate fountain made of black marble, and it is all they can do to carry the heavy thing. Fowley tries to catch her breath enough to speak as they near the porch. "We’re supposed to leave it on the porch. Mrs. Smith won’t be home until tomorrow." "The Mrs. Smith?" Mulder asks, thinking of the tale Reyes and Skinner told him. "Yes, the Mrs. Smith with the possessed turkey." "I thought it turned out to be mechanical." Mulder pants. "It was. Hey, watch my foot!" she exclaims as the base of the fountain comes perilously close to her toes when they set it down. "I couldn’t even see your foot." Mulder complains. "All done?" He gives her a hopeful look. "All done." "Let’s go for ice cream, then. It’s hot!" "I noticed." She says, giggling and pointing to the line of sweat soaking into his shirt. Mulder just sticks his tongue out at her. ** Tuesday Afternoon, the Ice House Since she’s on break, Scully has taken off her shoes and socks and is soaking her feet in the water by the patio. Reyes is doing the same. "It’s not as good as wading…"she starts. "…but it does cool you off." Scully finishes with a grin. "This is one huge perk to having a restaurant so close to the docks, not to mention that so many boaters stop by." Scully wiggles her toes in the water." So, why are you here? It’s not that I mind having company on my break, but…" Reyes stares out at the sailboats. "Well…I’m sure you know that Fowley is back in town. I’ve hung out with her a few times since she got back, but I think I might have dealt our friendship a moral blow a couple of days ago." "What did you do that was so terrible?" Scully asks, immediately thinking of Bessie and her father. "I don’t want to go into specifics, since it’s as much her private business as mine, but Spender told me a bunch of terrible things about her, none of which were at all true, and I had to tell her. I mean, I had to, because she seemed to think that things were peachy between them, and they’re not. So of course she’s furious with me for wreaking the illusion." Reyes says, sighing morosely. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, my sister is currently not speaking to me, except to give me instructions at work, because I hate my father and don’t feel badly that we had to turn him into the police last week." Scully says, putting her socks and shoes on. "Of course it doesn’t make me feel better." Reyes complains. "What I’m getting at is eventually they’ll get over it. They have to." Scully says with a conviction that belies the look of doubt in her eyes. ** mid-morning Wednesday, Grams' Church Fowley doesn’t attend services with Grams, not the weekday ones Grams favors nor Sunday ones, much to her grandmother’s disappointment, but they do have a ritual: Fowley meets her at the church and they walk home together. When Fowley arrives at the church she sees Grams talking to another woman. The woman looks to be in her mid-fifties, and for a moment Fowley wonders who she could be. Finally it dawns on her why she looks vaguely familiar. Grams smiles and waves her over. "Gladace, I think you’ve met my grand-daughter Fowley before?" "Oh, yes, I met her at Thanksgiving, didn’t I, dear?" Fowley nods silently, still finding it hard to believe it’s the same woman. "That nice boy you brought over helped me figure out what was wrong with my turkey." "Skinner’s handy that way." Fowley says. "I’m sure he’ll make some girl a wonderful husband some day." Gladace Smith says benignly. Fowley bites her lower lip to keep from blurting out her opinion how unlikely that is. Gladace leaves them a couple of minutes later, smiling as she goes. As Fowley walks with Grams she finally asks, "Does she look…different to you?" "Yes, dear, but I wouldn’t feel right criticizing someone’s appearance." Grams says. "Oh, I don’t mean she looks bad. She just looks a lot younger than she did the last time I saw her is all." "Maybe she discovered the fountain of youth." Grams quips, not noticing the startled look on Fowley’s face. ** Mulder picked up the phone on the first ring. "Yellow." "Um…blue. Hey Mulder, I need to talk to you about that fountain." Fowley tells him. "The fountain we delivered to Mrs. Smith?" "No, some other big-@ss fountain." "What is with people lately? Everyone is so snippy." Mulder moans. "Sorry. Anyway, that fountain. Do you….think it’s possible it’s the fountain of youth?" "You’re messing with me, aren’t you. I say it’s remotely possible, then you laugh at me, right?" Mulder asks, his voice colored with suspicion. "No. I’m actually serious." "You're really serious?" "As a heart attack." Fowley tells him. "Freaky, I’m the skeptic for a change. So what makes you think that it’s the fountain of youth?" "Well, I ran into Mrs. Smith today, and you’d swear she was fifty-five if you saw her." "So?" "So she’s in her late 60’s!" "Oh. That is odd." "Yeah, especially since she looked every one of her years the last time I saw her." Fowley replies. "So how would we prove it?" Mulder says, glad to for once be on the asking end of that question. "I have an idea…" ** Wednesday afternoon, Potter home Bessie is at the stove, as usual, making dinner for herself, Scully and Alexander before going over to the Ice House to supervise the dinner rush. Scully is entertaining Alexander at the table by teaching him "where is thumbkin," but she keeps glancing at her sister with expectant looks. Bessie puts down the pot-holder and turns to her, her hand on her hip. "I sense that you have something to say." She comments dryly. Then she turns to her son. "Alex, go wash your hands for dinner." "Aww, Mom!" He groans, but jumps out of his chair and heads towards the bathroom. "Now that we’re alone, you may as well come out with it." Bessie tells her. "I...I just don’t like that we haven’t been speaking lately." Scully says, berating herself because she thought it sounded lame. "We do talk." Bessie says, not suppressing her sigh. "I’m talking to you right now. And we talk at work, we talk about chores…" "But that’s not what I mean, and you know it. I mean we don’t talk about real things lately." "Why do suppose that is?" "Because you’re mad at me, of course. Look, I know you feel guilty about having had to turn Dad in, but I don’t. You and I, we had completely different childhoods." Scully says, a plaintive note creeping into her voice. "You were grown up when everything went to hell." "You tell me again in a handful of years how grown up you feel." Bessie says, eyes flashing dangerously. Scully holds her hands out in placating gesture. "Ok, ok. I know you were still young, but at least you were older than I am now. I think I’d be a different person if we hadn’t lost our parents when I was so young, but I don’t know if it’d be better or worse, but I’d be different. I do know that how things actually turned out have everything to do with how I feel about Dad. It was bad enough that Mom died, but then he abandoned our family too. Maybe when I’m older I’ll be able to forgive him. Now, though, I know for sure that I’m not ready to let him back into my heart. I’m sorry, and I wish this hadn’t come between us. "Scully doesn’t realize that each of her cheeks has a fat tear decorating it. Bessie looks at her for a few seconds, then hugs her. "If that’s the way you feel, I guess that’s the way you feel." Bessie says, wiping away Scully’s tears. "What do you say to me renting some silly movie after work tonight, then staying up all night watching it?" "That sounds really good." Scully tells her, nearly crying all over again, this time from relief. "I’ll have the popcorn waiting." ** 10 pm Gladace Smith’s house Mulder crouches in the dark beside Fowley. Her arms are cradling an ancient cat, and Mulder has a small bowl in his hands. They creep up to the porch, and look at the fountain which is now full of water. "All you have to do is scoop some water into the bowl, then I’ll get Marigold to drink it." Fowley whispers. "Where did you get that thing?" Mulder asks, looking at the cat. "She belongs to one of the neighbors. They’re out for the night, so hopefully they won’t even notice she’s missing." Mulder puts on a pair of gloves and scoops up some of the water, then carries the bowl away from the house while Fowley follows with the cat. Once they’re in the shadows he puts the bowl on the ground. The cat begins to lap up the water. "Now what?" "Now we bring her home and I keep an eye on her to see if the water makes her younger. It shouldn’t take long because Gladace has only had the fountain for two days… Mulder, what’s with the gloves?" "If it is the fountain of youth, I’m not taking any chances. It’s taken me seventeen years to get this old, and I don’t want to suffer any backsliding in my age. " "You’re being silly." Fowley chides. "I’m being silly? I’m being silly?? I’m not the one who abducted the neighbor’s cat to get it to drink water from the fountain, am I?" Mulder sputters. "All right, we’ve both being silly. Thanks for helping me out with this, I’ll let you know how it works out with the cat." Fowley says as she scoops the decrepit yellow cat up into her arms. ** Thursday afternoon, McPhee home Reyes is sitting in an armchair, but only technically. Instead of sitting in a typical fashion, she’s got her legs draped over one arm of the chair, and she’s waving one foot in the air as she reads a novel from her personal summer reading list, since the school didn’t assign one. She feels a tap on her shoulder, and looks up to see her brother towering over her. "What are you reading?" "The Poisonwood Bible by Kingsolver." She tells him. "Is it any good?" He asks as he throws himself on the couch. "Sure. I feel bad for the kids and keep hoping their father will die, though." She replies with a wry grin. "You? Wishing someone’s death? Why I never!" Skinner says, adopting a shocked expression. "Well, it’s not as though he’s a real person, now, is it? So...what’s up?" "Actually, I wanted to ask you what happened with that friend of yours that you told me about. Call it an insatiable curiosity about whether or not you took my advice. It’s been, what, a week? And you haven’t said another peep about it." He answers in a slightly disapproving tone. "As a matter of fact, I did take your advice." "And? "Skinner persists. "And she’s not talking to me. And she broke up with the creep." "Ouch." He says, cringing. "Guess that was a win-lose result." "Definitely." Reyes says with a sigh. "Maybe she’ll talk to me again before the end of the summer." "Oh, I’m sure she will." Skinner says, standing up to give her a companionable pat on the shoulder. "You’re not the type of person people can stay mad at for long." "That was a really sweet thing to say, Skinner." She says, then looks worried. "You didn’t find out I’m dying or anything did you?" "Why I oughta…"He says, shaking his fist at her, but laughing. ** Friday morning, Lindley home Fowley crouches down by stone wall that separates Grams’ yard from the next, and calls softly for Marigold. She puts down a bowl of gourmet cat food down to tempt the animal. Eventually she sees the cat coming slowly towards her from the direction of its owner’s porch. She’s disappointed, because the cat looks as old as it always has, and moves as slowly as ever. Still, she reaches out to pet it while it sniffs at the food. Her mind wanders while the cat eats its breakfast. Spending time with Mulder has reminded her why she wasn’t interested in him in the fall. Scully may be attracted to tall, dark, moody and strange, but she’s sure now that she isn’t. For a second she feels a pang of longing for Spender, then shakes her head to clear it. She pets the cat again and thinks, I’m better off al- "What are you doing?" A voice says behind her, and she looks back to see her grandmother standing behind her. "Making friends with Marigold." "Oh, that’s nice. You might want to ask her owners if it’s ok to feed her in the future, some old cats need special diets." Fowley started to feel guilty, but the cat turns its nose at the food, so she figures that there is no harm done. "You know Grams, I got this silly idea that you were right about Mrs. Smith discovering the fountain of youth…so I got Mulder to help me give some of the water from her fountain to Marigold." Fowley confesses. She expects Grams to be cross with her for having done that to the cat, but the woman laughs instead, which puzzles her. "Oh, Fowley, she got a face lift while she was staying with her daughter. That’s where she was when you and Mulder dropped off the fountain." "Gee, now I feel really dumb." Fowley says, her cheeks becoming red. "Don’t. Everyone wants to believe that there’s a way to keep us from getting older, so you shouldn’t feel ashamed in indulging in that sort of belief yourself." "I guess." Fowley says, thinking of how she’s going to have to tell Mulder that she was wrong. "You know, though, Dear, I think there’s a way you and Mulder could sort of experience a fountain of youth yourselves." Grams says, then begins to lay out a plan that makes Fowley smile. To be continues 8:30 pm, Lindley home Mulder and Doggett throw more logs onto the fire, which is already burning high. Grams sweet-talked the fire marshal into allowing the bonfire, which took some persuading since the summer has started off so dry. Fortunately the man is Mr. Brooks’ best friend, so he was finally convinced that if she supervised, there would be no problems with it getting out of hand. She smiles to herself as the boys follow her instructions about creating a safe fire. She turns to look at her granddaughter who is across the yard. "I’m glad you came." Fowley tells Reyes while they open bags of marshmallows. Reyes gives her a tentative smile. "I was sort of surprised you asked me, to tell you the truth." "Friends some times fight and get angry at one another. It’s not the end of the world, right?" "Right. So tell me more about the boy over there with your brother." Fowley says, motioning to Reed with her thumb. "Oh, he’s a nice guy…who has a serious crush on Skinner." Fowley rolls her eyes. "It really figures." "Hey, I think that Krycek broke up with his air-head girlfriend, Sandy…"Reyes says, then ducks when Fowley threatens to swat her. ** Grams looks at them as they all sit around the fire, and nods to herself. "We are gathered here tonight to search for the fountain of youth. My granddaughter and Mr. Leary thought they found it a few days ago, but were mistaken, because they looked in the wrong place. It’s actually here, in this bag." She says, holding up a black velvet bag. "Who would like find out how much of our youth can be recaptured?" Everyone looks at each other, and finally Doggett stands up. "I’d love to have the honors, Mrs. Lindley." "Reach into the bag and remove one item." She instructs him. He puts his hand in and takes it out, something small grasped in his fingers. He uncurls them revealing a polished stone with the number seven carved into it. "Ah, so we’re seven," She tells them. "Each one of us will explain what life is like when we are seven." Everyone smiles, finally understanding the game. "Doggett, why don’t you tell us about something that’s happening in your life?" Doggett smiles and looks at everyone around the fire. "I’m seven years old, and I’m excited because I’m finally going to start the first grade in a couple of months. I still sort of resent the fact that Mom and Dad signed me up for an experimental school program called ‘readiness.’ Sure, I’m hyper, but my brother and sisters all went to first grade when they were six, so it makes me mad. But Mulder and Scully were in my class- he day dreamed too much and she was too shy- so it was better than I thought it was going to be. Today I went to the beach with my brother, which is weird, since he never does anything with me. He’s a teenager, so he’s too cool to play with my anymore. Today we had fun, even if I got tired on the walk back. He gave me a piggyback ride, even." "Doggett, how about you pick who goes next?" Grams suggests. "We’ll keep it going that way." "In that case, I’d like Skinner to go next." Doggett says. Skinner scowls at him. "I’m seven years old, and tonight Tim and I caught fireflies. Tim is nine, almost ten, so he’s an experienced firefly catcher. I haven’t done it before because they’re weren’t any last summer, and before that I was too little to go with him. He always did things first, because he’s the oldest. Sometimes I think it’s not fair, and other times I’m glad there’s someone who isn’t scared to do the things I’m doing for the first time. I think Dad calls it ‘the benefit of voice of experience.’ Tonight, though, I was out there, catching fireflies in a jar. Your turn, Reyes." Reyes remembers the night he told them about. "I’m seven years old, and I feel left out. My brothers went out to catch fireflies, but wouldn’t let me come because I’m a girl." She says, glancing at Skinner, who has a guilty look on his face. "Mom noticed that I was sad, so she told me that we should do something special together, just her and me. So we made cookies. At first I wanted the cookies only her and I, but I asked me if being left out felt bad, and I said yes. So we shared." Reyes finished with a smile. "Reed?" Reed’s nervous blush can be seen even by firelight. "Um…I’m seven years old, and my uncle Craig is taking me to a Phish concert. I don’t know the music, so I’m not caring much about that, but it’s my first concert ever, and it’s so exciting. I can’t believe how many people are crammed into the venue, but it’s outside, so it’s ok, like a big party. Every time I see Uncle Craig after that he asks me if I remember it, and looks so happy that it had a lasting impression on me." Reed finishes with a smile. "Scully’s turn." "Ok, I’m seven years old, and like Reyes, I’m spending special time with a parent. It’s just me, Dad, and Fenway park. On the ride there Dad tells me how excited he is that I want to see a game with him. Bessie was never interested in sports at all, so he’s thrilled that I am. So I don’t tell him that I don’t like baseball either, I just like spending time with him. It doesn’t seem like a big fib to let him believe, since he’s happy. When we get there we root for the Red Sox, buy Fenway franks, and sing ‘Take me out to the ball game.’ "Scully finishes, for a moment remembering what it was like to spend time with her father. "Ok, Mulder’s next." "Ok, I’m seven years old, and I’m buying a birthday card. I only get a dollar a week, so it’s taken me two weeks to save up for the card- I don’t successfully lobby for an allowance increase until Christmas. Anyway, I slipped away from Grandma in the mall and run to the card shop. I didn’t want her to come with me, because she’d ask questions. I buy a card that has a little girl on a rocking horse on it, and the words ‘So you’re three!’ written in big enough letters that I can read it without help. After I pay for it, I cram it into my back pocket, with part of it sticking up under my t-shirt, and wander to the toy store. Grandma finds me there and figures I was there the whole time. When we finally get home I bring it to my room and write ‘Happy birthday Sam’ in my messy scrawl, then hide it under my mattress." Mulder says, staring into the fire so he doesn’t have to see the pitying looks. "Grams turn." "Oh, let me see… it’s been a long time since I was seven." She says with a chuckle. "I’m seven years old, and we’re in the middle of a war. They’re calling it world war two, which scares me, because I think that it means the whole world will literally be at world. One afternoon the thought overwhelms me, so I crawl onto my Papa’s lap, and ask him if I have to be a solider too. He laughs and tells me no, most people don’t have to be soldiers. Then he carefully explains to me why they call it a world war, and why we’re fighting it. And for some reason it made me feel better and worse, all at the same time." Grams tells them. "Fowley, it looks like you’re last." Fowley shrugs a bit and nearly confesses that she hasn’t thought of anything that doesn’t make her bitter. Then she has a sudden inspiration. "I’m seven years old, and there’s a turtle in the garden pond. I don’t tell my mother, because I brought them up once and she dismissed all reptiles as ‘dirty animals,’ which I don’t think is fair since this turtle seems clean. He spends most of his day in the clean clear water. I like to go out there and lie on my belly, watching him as he swims back and forth, back and forth. It reminds me of summer, and I wish it was summer always." Fowley smiles at her grandmother. "Thanks Grams, this was a really fun idea." "I’m glad you think so." Grams says fondly. "I thought it was a lot of fun too. And it’s nice to know that no one is going to be doing any cat-napping on my watch." She adds pointedly, which confuses everyone but Mulder and Fowley." Does anyone want to make S’mores?" "Yes!" they all cry, getting up to help her make them while she laughs. Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Green Wheel ("Breathe") Nickelback ("Worthy to say") And Saliva ("Always") ** ** Mulder's Creek: 22 Rocket's Red Glare Summary: Emotions run high a 4th of July nears Opening scene Mulder yawns and stretches as he gets out of bed. The sunlight shining into his room suggests that it is midmorning, and a glance at his clock confirms it. He smiles a bit, enjoying being able to get up whenever he feels like it, then he heads for the bathroom. His hand is on the bathroom doorknob when he hears a loud voice from down stairs. He freezes, wondering why his mother sounds so agitated. Finally he realizes she must be talking to Sam, so he creeps to the top of the stairs to listen. "Your father and I have been patient with you, but you've got to start making an effort…Don't you shake your head 'no' at me. Do you remember that meeting we went to at the superintendent's office the last week of May, when you met the woman who did some tests? Well, that was about your IEP, that's short for individual education program. They called me, and you know what, if you're not talking by the time school starts in the fall, they might hire an aide for you…he or she would translate your sign language for your teacher, and they'd follow you around all day. I can tell by your grimace that you don't like that idea, and I don't blame you. However, if you're talking by then, we can get another meeting to tell them you don't need someone's help. But you have to start trying! Look, there's a speech pathologist that Dad and I hired to work with you three days a week, beginning Monday. I want you to promise to try to do what you're asked, ok? Good girl. I hope you know that Dad and I just want what's best for you…" Mulder slips into the bathroom and begins to brush his teeth. Poor Sam, he thinks, wondering how many other conversations like this he's missed. ** Theme song- "Stranded" By Plumb ** Monday morning, Leary home Mulder dashes into the kitchen, intending to grab a quick breakfast before meeting Scully, Doggett and Reyes to go the beach, when he stops dead in his tracks as he notices a stranger sitting at the kitchen table across from Sam, who is scowling. It must have struck the man as comical, because he looks up at Mulder with a broad grin. Mulder looks him over, takes in his chocolate brown eyes, and light brown hair with its golden sun streaks, and decides that most of the girls he knows would swoon over the man. "Uh, hi. I’m Sam’s brother, Mulder. You’re the speech person?" "That I am." He says happily, and Mulder wonders how old he is, since he doesn’t seem to be that much older than Mulder is himself. Since he and tact have only a passing acquaintance, Mulder decides to grill him. "I don’t mean to be rude, but are you a student or something? You don’t look old enough to be a teacher…" "I’m twenty-three, and I’m a therapist, not a teacher. I went to UCONN until I graduated last year, and I just started working for Capeside school system, in the middle school, this summer. I took the job because it reminds me of the school I did my internship in. Any more questions?" He asks Mulder while still sounding good-natured. "Well, your full name would be nice, in case my best friend’s Dad, the sheriff, wants to do a criminal background check. And since I’m going to be asked this by female friends…are you married, engaged, dating someone, or studying for the priesthood?" Mulder asks, trying not to laugh. The man does laugh, even as Mulder turns red in the face from the effort of trying not to. "My name is Zane Archer, but the sheriff would find that my record is clean. And if your friends ask, you can tell them I’m very single, but I don’t date girls who are under eighteen." "Oh…some of them are going to be disappointed." Mulder laughs. "They complain that straight, single guys never move here. "He turns to Sam and ruffles her hair. "Have fun, Sam, I’ll see you later. "With that he grabs his towel and runs, because Doggett is honking the horn. "So that’s your older brother." Zane says to Sam, who signs yes with a smile. "It was nice to meet him, but I guess we should get back to these mouth exercises." The scowl returns to Sam’s face. ** As he slides into the back seat of Doggett’s borrowed car, Mulder smiles apologetically. "Sorry about that, I just meet Sam’s speech person." "What’s she like?" Scully asks Mulder as he puts on his seatbelt. "He, not she. He seems pretty nice. He’s only a few years older than us, and I think that a lot of girls in Capeside are going to develop sudden crushes on him this summer." Mulder tells her with a grin. "So he’s cute." Scully states. "As unmanly as it is to admit that you notice that another guy is likely to catch the ladies’ eyes, I’d be lying if I said no." Mulder admits. "Well, what’s his name?" Reyes demands. "Hey, you’re not shopping for my replacement are you?" Doggett asks in a mock- worried tone, which makes her roll her eyes. "Zane Archer. I’ve never heard the name Zane before, but I guess he’ll fit right in with a name like that." Mulder chuckles. "His name is Zane?" Reyes asks. "That’s a form of John." "That’s something I love about you." Doggett says. "I never need an encyclopedia- Ouch, quit it!" he demands, rubbing his shoulder before exiting the driveway. . ** Tuesday noon, McPhee home "Reyes, come down here!" Skinner insists as he calls up the stairs. "Why?" She yells back, still looking for her shoes. "Because Fowley is standing here waiting for you!" "Oh." She finally spies her shoes under the bed. "Be right down!" Fowley and Skinner grin at each other. That sort of exchange makes Fowley wonder what she might have missed out on growing up as an only child. "God, Fowley, what took you so long?" She snaps, watching Reyes face turn pink. "I, um, couldn’t find me shoes." Reyes mumbles in apology. Fowley giggles. "I’m sorry, I was just messing with you. You’ve only known I was here for about a minute, so why should I be mad?" "You never know…"Reyes replies cryptically, making Fowley give her a questioning look, which she ignores. "What’s up?" "I think we need to talk to Spender. Knowing why he did those things is going to be the only way I’m going to be able to get over him." Fowley tells her. Skinner senses this is his cue to exit. "I’m going to go see a movie at Reed’s house, so, uh, bye." Reyes watches her brother bolt from the room, but she’s more concerned about what Fowley has just said. "Are you sure that’s a good idea?" "No," Fowley admits. "But I think it’s something I need to do." "Well, if you’re sure…" "Sure as I can be." Is Fowley’s grim reply. They wander into the kitchen, then stare at the phone for a minute. "Your dad won’t mind if I use the phone?" "It’s a local call, so it won’t even show up on the bill." "Well, ok, here goes nothing." Fowley says as she picks up the phone and dials his number. When someone answers, she politely asks, "May I speak to Spender, please?" "Oh, I’m sorry." A woman on the other end answers. "Spender has gone to visit his grandparents for the week. He won’t be home until the 5th of July. Would you like to leave a message?" "No that’s ok." Fowley says, resisting the urge to sigh. "I’ll call him on the 5th." "Well, ok. You have a nice day." The woman replies before hanging up. Fowley gives the phone a disgusted look as she returns it to its cradle. "He wasn’t there?" Reyes asks, already knowing the answer, but not wanting to admit to listening closely to the conversation. "Nope. Apparently he’s at his grandmother’s, according to his Mother." "I guess we’ll have to talk to him when he comes back, then." Reyes suggests. "Did my brother seem weird to you a few minutes ago?" "Nah, running away when girls talk about ex-boyfriends is a pretty typical male response." Fowley grins. "Not that your brother is typical." "He sure isn’t. No wonder we all love him." Reyes says. "Even Reed. I’m afraid we sent him out of the pan and into the fire just now." "I thought you said that Reed knows he’s not interested." "He does. But Scully says it doesn’t stop Reed from staring at the poor boy every time Skinner is distracted by something else." "So do you suppose it’s a case of love-sickness or lust?" Fowley asks. "I don’t know. There are some cases, like in the case of your sibling’s love-life, that ignorance is bliss." Reyes says with a grimace. "Aww, keep talking like that, and you’re going to make me wish I wasn’t an only child." "If you really want a sibling, we might be able to convince Doggett to give you one of his. He and four so he’d never miss one." Reyes tells her. "But I’m sure he’d give you one of his oldest sisters, so it might not be a good deal." "No thanks. I’ve heard tales about the sisters Witter, and from Grams of all people, who is usually the most charitable of souls." "From what I’ve heard, growing up those two were Capeside’s answer to the wicked witches of the east and west." They both dissolve into laughter. ** 10 minutes later, Lane home Skinner thanks Mrs. Lane, and walks down the hall towards Reed’s room. Though he’s only been over his house a couple of times, Skinner’s good sense of direction leads him right to the other boy’s room. He’s about to knock on the door when he realizes that he hears singing. "Let me love you and it won’t be wrong….won’t be wrong…"Skinner takes a moment to admire Reed’s voice before knocking. "Oh, hey, you been there long?" Reed asks, a blush starting to creep up his cheeks. "Long enough to wonder what you were singing." Skinner grins at him. "An old Bryds song, actually." "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a great voice?" Skinner asks. Reed brushes his hair out of his eyes, self-consciously. "I don’t want to sound conceited but actually, a lot of people have. " "You should be in a band!" Skinner exclaims gleefully. "Well…I am." "You’re in a band? Why haven’t you told anyone about it?" Reed looks down and drags a foot across the floor, obviously avoiding Skinner’s eyes. "Because…it’s only been since school got out…and you hate the person who asked me to sing." "I don’t hate anyone…You’re in a band with Krycek??" Skinner sputters. "Yeah. I know he’s a jerk, but can he ever play the guitar." Reed says with a faint smile. "So what’s the band called?" Skinner asks, trying to keep himself from saying anything bad about Krycek. "beerisnotasexcrime." Reed mumbles. "I didn’t catch that." Reed sighs and repeats himself more slowly. "Beer is Not a Sex Crime." He shakes his head. "The band already had a name when Krycek and his friend Craig asked me to join." He adds defensively. "That is a name people won’t soon forget." Skinner says, smiling in spite of himself. "How did Krycek know you could sing, anyway?" Reed shrugs. "He was in my chorus class this past term. I’m not sure why though, since he seemed to hate it." "Sophomores get screwed on picking classes, so it probably wasn’t his idea to take the class. What sort of songs will you be doing?" Skinner asks. "Covers mostly, at least to begin with. We might end up writing some songs, but for now we’re just trying to play together." It’s at that moment that Skinner’s eyes land on an object in the room. "You play bass?" "Yup. I’ve been playing since I was eleven." Reed says with a hint of pride in his voice. "Wow, I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you." Skinner says. "You’re right." Reed says in a tone that makes Skinner wonder what he just missed. ** 4pm, Potter home "Mulder, I’m scared." Scully tells him as she cuddles up against him on the couch. For once there’s no one else home, because Bessie took Alexander with her when she went to visit a friend. Mulder puts his arm around her. "Scared of what?" "Fourth of July." Scully answers in a small voice. "Well, I’ve never heard anyone say that before…why are you suddenly afraid of a national holiday?" He asks, trying to sound serious instead of amused. "Haven’t you heard? People on the news keep talking about how there is some rumor that the terrorists are going to steal oil tankers and use them to attack places in Las Vegas." "While that’s disturbing, we’re thousands of miles from Vegas." Mulder points out reasonably. "I know that, but you’re not seeing the big picture." Scully insists. "Which is?" "That it’s still not over. Months and months later they’re still causing us terror with every rumor because they did what they set out to- they pulled the rug out from under our sense of security. Now we’re always on guard, since we have no way of knowing if a rumor is just a way to scare us, or something they intend to actually do. And it will only get worse in September." Scully says with a deep sigh. "So much for our knowledge that that sort of thing doesn’t happen here." Mulder agrees. "I suppose we’re not as far removed from the rest of the world’s self-inflicted damage as we’d like to think." "Mulder, you’re not making me feel better." Scully complains. "I’m sorry, but you don’t want me to lie to you, do you?" "‘Just lie to me, and I promise, I’ll believe…’ "Scully wistfully sings a line from Sheryl Crow. "Well, in that case," Mulder says, pulling her onto his lap. "I’m going to grow up to be a rich and famous photographer, and people will think of me before they think of Ansel Adams. You and I will get married exactly 13 months after we both graduate Magna cum laude from Ivy league schools, so we’ll have a prefect June wedding. We’ll have two perfect children-" "Four." Scully insists. "Well, ok, since you’re the one who has to carry them, you get the final say." Mulder agrees with a broad smile. "Four perfect children, two boys and two girls, naturally, who will be the lights of our lives. People on the street will stop you and I and tell them that we are very inspiring, since we’re madly in love, and have a perfect family." Scully begins to kiss his neck. "You can say the sweetest things." Mulder doesn’t reply, because Scully is distracting him from coming up with a witty reply. ** Wednesday Morning, Leary home Mulder wanders into the kitchen, and pretends not to be listening to Zane and Sam talk. Not that Sam is actually talking, per say. Mulder smiles to himself as he grabs a box of cereal off of a high shelf. "What sound does a dog make?" Zane asks her. Sam turns and gives Mulder a pleading look, seeming to be asking to be rescued from the crazy person. Mulder grins at her. Zane notices their silent exchange and turns to Mulder. "Well, what sound does a dog make?" Mulder put down his milk and made a growling noise deep in his throat. "How’s that?" "Not bad." Zane tells him. "Look Samantha, if your big, seventeen-year-old brother isn’t afraid of seeming dumb for making animal noises-" "Hey!" Mulder protests. Zane ignores him "- then you shouldn’t be afraid to try either. Come on now, I did banish your parents from the room to make it easier on you, but they’re going to be asking me how cooperative you’ve been as soon as we’re done for the day." Sam narrows her eyes at him. "wwwwoof." She says, making the first sound, besides a laugh, that Mulder’s ever heard her make. "Yay Sam!" Mulder exclaims as he grabs his bowl and spoon and heads for the living room where he intends to watch the cartoon network. "Great!" Zane says, passing her a sticker, which she takes with a smile. "Most of the girls that I work with like sticker collections. I bet you do too." Sam nods eagerly. "Actually, don’t tell anyone, but some of the adults I know like stickers too. I’ll tell you what. Every time you do what I’ve asked, and at least make an attempt, I’ll give you another sticker. I’ve got all kinds, fuzzy ones, prismatic ones, scratch and sniff…what do you say?" "Woof." Sam says, laughing loudly enough for Mulder to hear her in another room. "Great! So what does a duck say?" Sam rolls her eyes and obediently quacks for him. ** Zane is on his way out the door when Mulder stops him. "Hey, that was pretty cool, you getting Sam to make some noise for once. Why animals sounds?" "Well, a lot of kids with speech problems can make sounds, but they don’t talk very often, because they’re afraid that they’re not going to say things correctly. So animal sounds are a way for them to practice making sounds without having to worry about pronouncing something the wrong way." Zane explains. "That’s pretty smart." "That’s why they pay me the big bucks." Zane says with a laugh. "Or they would in a perfect world, anyway." "There is no justice in this world." Mulder agrees, going to open the door when the doorbell rings. Zane waits for Scully, Reyes and Fowley to come in before he goes out the door himself. Reyes turns to Mulder with wide eyes as soon as Zane is out of earshot. "Who was that??" "Zane, you know, the guy who’s working with Sam." "Oh my God…"Fowley whispers under her breath as she watches Zane through the window, on his way to talk to Mr. And Mrs. Leary, who are doing some planting in the garden. As soon as he’s gone she turns to Sam, who has come into the living room and says "You are a very lucky girl." Sam shakes her head and walks away from the drooling girls. "He’s not so attractive." Scully says, wrapping her arm around Mulder’s waist. "You are a terrible liar." He says with a grin, and kisses her cheek. "So, what do you ladies want from me this morning?" He asks, wondering what would cause the three of them to do anything together. "From you?" Reyes asks. "Nothing. We were hoping to be able to see your brother, though. Fowley hasn’t seen him yet." "Speak for yourselves." Scully tells them. "I’ve come to harass the older Leary brother." Mulder echoes Sam, and goes upstairs shaking his head. He brings Price, who is awake and gurgling, back downstairs. Reyes and Fowley immediately start oohing and ahhing over him. "I don’t know how my ego can stand this, my brother isn’t even two months old yet, and he’s already got more female admirers than I do." Mulder says with a mock self-pitying sigh. He notices Scully’s unamused glance and adds. "At least the one I do have isn’t going to throw me over for a younger, cuter guy." "Yeah, you think so." Scully tells him with an evil grin. Mulder sighs for real, and even Sam laughs at him. ** Wednesday afternoon, The Ice House Mulder slides into a booth, and waits for Scully to come over and take his order. Scully brings him a menu, even though they both know he won’t use it. Mulder looks up her and says "The lengths I have to go to just to see my girlfriend…" "Mulder, I’ve already seen you three times this week…including this morning." Scully says, starting to get a bit defensive. Mulder holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "A joke, just a joke. So…I do want a hamburger since my parents have taken the other kids to visit Aunt Gwen, and I can’t really fend for myself because they’re supposed to do this week’s grocery shopping on the way home." "Anything else?" Scully asks, wiping out a notebook and pen out of her apron pocket. "Chocolate milk and a side of fries…"Mulder pauses and glares at his fellow customers, daring them to make a comment about the chocolate milk. No one even notices. "And a confirmation on our plans to see the fireworks tomorrow night." Scully looks at the floor. "Um…The chocolate milk and French fries I can manage, but…I can’t go tomorrow night." Mulder gives her a morose look, remembering New Year’s Eve. "Why not?" "Bessie doesn’t want me to. Oh, she claims that she needs Reed and I to work tomorrow night so she can go somewhere in Boston to buy bulk restaurant supplies from the one place that’s open on a holiday. And that she won’t be back until very late, but I know she’s worried about the fireworks display." "Let me guess, she’s the one who got you all worked up about terrorists." Mulder guesses. "Gee Mulder, you’re showing sparks of clairvoyance yourself. I guess you have something in common with Reyes after all." "Very funny." Mulder says with a glare. "I’m sorry that you’re not going to be able to come to the fireworks, but I guess that’s ok. I was planning on bringing Sam along, anyway." Scully puts her hands on her hips, and pretends to be mad. "I see how it is, three’s a crowd, huh?" "No…but we’d have to be on our best behavior. No mushy stuff." Mulder tells her. "Darn, that’s my favorite part of Holidays." Scully says, watching Mulder’s face turn red before going to put in his order. ** Thursday morning, McPhee home Fowley walks into the house with a curious look on her face. "What was so important that you called me first thing in the morning?" "I wanted to talk to you about the first step in operation FAS." Reyes tells her. Fowley looks skeptical. "What does FAS stand for?" "Forget About Spender, of course." "Oh God…"She mutters. "You need to get over him. Really get over him." Reyes admonishes. "Ok, ok, what is the first step in this program? And are there eleven other steps?" "We won’t know how many steps there are until you’re over him." Reyes tells her in a reasonable tone. "And the first step is immersion." "Immersion in what?" Fowley asks, fearing that this will somehow involve being placed in a pool filled with something. "Immersion in society. Holing up alone and moping isn’t good for you, so tonight you’re going to accompany me, Doggett, and Skinner to the fireworks display." Reyes says cheerfully. "I have a feeling that I’m not the first victim of this ‘cure.’ So who else have you done this to?" "My brother, after he broke up with Ethan. Skinner got sort of a mini-program since he stopped mopping soon after the first step." "It was probably in self defense." Fowley says darkly. "Wait…there was no fireworks display while I was gone, so where did you make him go?" "The Valentine’s Day dance." Reyes confessed. "Your poor brother!" Fowley laughs because she can’t think of a worse place for the newly, bitterly, single. "All right, I’ll come along with you guys." "Great! Doggett will pick us up around six. I think he said something about going for pizza before it gets dark. " "That sweetens the deal a little." Fowley says, finally starting to warm up to the idea. At least it would probably help keep her mind off of Spender until she got to talk to him the next morning. ** Late Thursday Afternoon, en route to Reyes house Doggett is driving along at a reasonable speed when he sees what everyone dreads: blue lights flaring up in his rearview mirror. He pulls over to the side of the road, and plans to tell the cop a. that he doesn’t know why he’s being pulled over since he wasn’t speeding, and b. that his father is the Sheriff and wouldn’t take him getting a ticket very well. Doggett rolls down his window, and waits in anticipation as the officer takes his time approaching the car. It’s Kersh. "Hey Kersh, I’ve got places to go." Doggett says as Kersh approaches the window. "Step out of the vehicle please." "Kersh, I’m telling you-" "Step out of the vehicle please." Kersh repeats evenly. "Oh, whatever. I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing…"Doggett complains as he gets out of the car. Kersh shoulders him aside, and uses a flashlight to look under the seats. After a through check, he walks over to Doggett who has stepped away from the car, and is wearing a confused expression. "Open the trunk please." "Come on Kersh, even I know that’s not legal to ask unless you have probable cause." Doggett tells him. When Kersh give him a hard stare, he finds himself opening the trunk. "This isn’t right." Kersh ignores him and rifles through the contents of the trunk. Once he’s satisfied, he turns to Doggett and says, "You can get back in the car now." Doggett doesn’t move. "What in the Hell was that all about?" He asks, glaring at his older brother. To his surprise, Kersh smiles. "Dad asked me to make sure that you didn’t have any fireworks on you. They’re illegal in this state, as you know." "I know that! That’s why we’re going to go see a fireworks display!!" Doggett screams at him. Kersh nods. "You have a nice day now, hear?" Doggett thinks about it and decides it’d be worth a possible ticket, so he flips his brother off as Kersh climbs back into the cruiser. Doggett shakes his head with angry bemusement as he climbs back into his car and continues on his way. ** July 4th Fireworks display They found a great spot to watch the fireworks, Fowley thinks as they settle onto the grass to wait, although it’s hard to find a bad stop when it comes to finding a place to look up at the sky. Capeside goes all out with fireworks every year, even though the city is aware that they can never hope to gain the prestige that the Boston displays, accompanied by The Pops, have. The town doesn’t care, though, and thoroughly enjoys itself anyway. As the fireworks start, Doggett stands behind Reyes, and wraps his arms around her waist as they watch the show. He rests his chin lightly on the top of her head, and points at pattern of sparks he thinks looks like rain. "Look at that one." "It’s beautiful." "But not as beautiful as you." Doggett corrects her, then kisses her. Fowley can’t help but feel envy as she watches them. She has no interest in Doggett, but she wishes someone would treat her the same way that he treats Reyes. She glances over at Skinner while the sky is right, and wonders if he felt the same way after breaking things off with Ethan. She hadn’t gotten to know Ethan very well, but she knew from things Reyes told her that things between them had ended badly, so she felt a wave of empathy. ** Mulder and Sam never do find Doggett, Fowley and Reyes. Instead they stake out a spot half a field away from the trio. Mulder wishes that they could have found everyone else, but he decides that maybe fate really wants him to enjoy the display with just his sister for company. As they watch the fireworks, Mulder can see the excited look on Sam’s face, and he finds himself wondering if she’s ever seen them before. Mulder smiles down at her and says, "They’re great aren’t they?" He looks back up at the sky and watches a sparkling green explode across the sky. He never would have expected a reply, so when he hears a wistful voice say, "I’ve always heard they were pretty, but I’ve never seen them before," he’s so shocked he nearly falls over. ** Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile ** < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: The Bryds ("It won’t be wrong") Nada Surf ("Fire Cracker") And The Used ("Taste Of Ink") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 23 Grave Secrets Summary: Mulder talks to Sam about what's she's been hiding from everyone, and Spender promises Fowley and Reyes explainations for his actions. Opening scene Mulder looks a second time to make sure that their parents are not in earshot before he drags his sister up stairs, shuts the door firmly and begins to talk to her in hushed tones in his room. "How could you not let me know you could talk?" He hisses at her. "You kept telling me not to let myself be pressured into speaking." Sam says defensively. "I meant Mom and Dad!" He exclaims. "Oh, I see how it is, it was good policy as long as I didn’t apply it to you too. You’re going to narc on me now, aren’t you?" She demands to know. Mulder stares at her, wondering how someone who had never seen fireworks would have knowledge of that sort of slang. "No. No I’m not going to ‘narc’ on you, thank you very much. What sort of person do you take me for?" "I don’t know, Mulder. I like you, but I haven’t known about any longer than Price has…I trust you though, which is why I decided to talk to you tonight." Sam says evenly, not realizing how much it hurts him to realize that she didn’t spend her whole life waiting to meet him as he had her. Mulder tries to keep the pain off his face so he can talk to her about what really matters. "Yeah, ok. How’s it going to be now? Are you just going to start talking to everyone now?" "I don’t think so. I agree with one thing you’ve said, Mom and Dad are going to have a hell of a lot of questions if they know I can answer them. Playing dumb, no pun intended, is working pretty well for me." Sam tells him. "If you want to play it this way, that’s your choice. But I do have a new piece of advice for you." "What’s that?" Sam asks. "Cooperate with Zane a little more. You know, add a word or two this week to what you’re willing to try to say. Otherwise, things might backfire on you, and you’ll end up in special ed classes." "Ok." Mulder pretends to punch her in the shoulder. "You’re going to have to be talking for real before school starts, you know." "I know…"Sam sighs. "I’m just not ready yet." "You and me, kid, have a lot of talking to do in the near future." Mulder tells her, wondering how they’ll do that and still keep their parents in the dark about it. ** Theme song- "Stranded" By Plumb ** Friday morning, Potter home Scully walks into the living room and is surprised to see her nephew, who has apparently dressed himself, huddled up on the couch. Scully looks at him in concern, because, in addition to his morose expression, he also has his thumb in his mouth. Since he has long since given up sucking his thumb while awake, she worries. "What’s wrong, Alex?" She asks gently. Unshed tears shine in his eyes as he mumbles something she can’t understand. "Sweetie, I’ve told you before that I can’t hear you if you talk with your thumb in your mouth." She reminds him. His thumb comes out of his mouth with an audible pop. "I wanna take Fox for a walk, but mommy said I’m too little. And she won’t go wit’ me, neither." Scully admires his tan for a moment, and shakes her head slightly. It’s been a long time since she was too little to do something she wanted to do, rather than merely be too young by law. "So how’s about I take Fox for a walk, and you come with us?" "Yes!" He shouts, scrambling off the couch in search of the puppy’s leash. As soon as he’s got it in his hand, a small hyperactive ball of reddish fur trails behind him giving excited yips. Scully resists the urge to roll her eyes as the preschooler and the puppy get each other even more wound up. In the end she’s not sure which is harder: getting Alexander into his shoes, or Fox into his harness. "Come on, you two." Scully says, herding them both towards the door. "We need to get back before eleven so you can go to preschool." "We’ve making paper match A today!" Alex exclaims, bounding out the door while Fox struggles on the end of his leash to keep up with him. "Aunt Scully, what’s paper match A?" He asks her. Scully can’t contain her giggles, and has to give herself a minute before she can explain what paper mache is. ** Afternoon, Lindley home Grams kisses Fowley’s cheek and reminds both girls that there is stuff to make sandwiches in the fridge. "Grams, we can handle lunch. Go on and enjoy yourself." Fowley tells her, trying to get her grandmother to go out on her date without wringing her hands in guilt. "I know you’re capable girls, but I still think I ought to have made lunch for you…"Grams trails off doubtfully. "We’ll be fine, Mrs. Lindley. You don’t want to make Mr. Brooks worry about where you are, do you?" Reyes asks with a winsome smile, knowing that she’d just given the older woman something else to worry about instead. "You’re right. I mustn’t be rude to him…"Grams said, finally going out the door. "Bye Grams!" Fowley called cheerfully after her. "Wow, I never realized that you were this spoiled." Reyes comments. "What do you mean?" "I bet you have never made a meal since you’ve lived with Grams. Skinner and I do all of the cooking in our house, even for our dad." Reyes explains. "Oh…since you’re right about that, I guess I am a bit spoiled." Fowley admits. "Anyway, ready to call Spender?" "Since talking to him might be cathartic I guess so." Reyes replies doubtfully. "All right then. I’m going to put him on speaker phone so we can both hear him, ok?" "Sure." Fowley picks up the phone and dials. "Hi, could I speak to Spender please? Thanks." She reaches down and switches to speaker phone as she waits for him to come on the line. "Spender." He answers. "Hi Spender. This is Fowley. I’ve got Reyes here with me." She says, wondering if he’ll immediately hang up when he finds out who it is. "What do you want?" His voice comes back, sounding less than friendly. "We wanted to talk to you about a few things." Fowley tells him. "Like what?" "Like the e-mails you sent me." Reyes says. "Oh." "Oh?" Fowley says loudly, trying to keep her temper. "You’re not going to deny you sent them?" "You wouldn’t believe me if I did deny it, so why bother?" He asks. "Why did you send them?" Fowley demands. "I can’t tell you that." He replies. "Why not?" Reyes asks. "It’s not the right time to." "When’s the right time?" Fowley asks icily. "Look, this isn’t the sort of thing that I want to talk to about on the phone, ok? If you meet me on Wednesday, I’ll tell you every thing." Spender says calmly. "Meet you where?" Reyes asks. "Call me Monday, and I’ll tell you then." Spender says, then hangs up on them. "I can’t believe him!" Fowley exclaims. "Guess we’ll have to call him Monday." Reyes says with a sigh. ** That night, Capeside Pizzeria- Mulder tries to see how far he can get his slice of pizza away from the rest of the pie before the cheese reaches the limits of its elasticity and breaks. "Eight inches!" He crows, apropos of nothing. "What??" Scully asks sharply, turning to look at him. "I got the slice of pizza eight inches away from the rest of the pizza before the cheese broke." Mulder tells her, wondering why she has a strange look on her face. "What did you think I was talking about?" Scully deftly changes the subject. "You said you had some incredible news about something that happened last night?" Mulder still wants her to admit what she’d thought he’d meant, but decided to let it pass. "You’ve got to keep this to yourself but…" "But what?" Scully asks. "Sam talks." Mulder tells her quietly. "You mean Zane has got her to say something?" Scully asks, thinking of how the other girls had been so smitten by the handsome young man. "No, I mean she talks as well as you and I do." Mulder says. "Mulder…" "Honest to God, Scully. I nearly crapped myself when she started talking to me during the fireworks last night." "Are you sure it was her you heard?" Scully asks doubtfully. "The fireworks are really loud, so maybe you just thought it was her talking." "If she hadn’t talked to me again when we got home, I’d probably doubt my own sanity as much as the look on your face suggests you do." Scully has the grace to look embarrassed. "Mulder, I don’t think you’re crazy, but…" "Whatever. She talks. But, she says she’s only going to talk to me. Which sort of reminds me of that Porky Pig cartoon with the ‘dead’ frog that sings ‘hello my baby’ only to Porky. Everyone he tries to tell thinks he’s insane because all they see is a dead frog." Mulder says. "Do you think it’s healthy to identify with cartoon characters?" Scully teases him. "Silly me to think you’d take me seriously and be supportive…"Mulder grouses. "That was pretty silly of you-" Scully says, then shrieks as Mulder threatens her with a slice of pizza. ** Monday afternoon, McPhee home Since Mr. McPhee is at work, and Skinner is as well, Reyes and Fowley decide to call Spender from the McPhee house where no one would be around to overhear the conversation. Reyes picks up the phone and dials the number that Fowley supplies them. "Spender." He answers, obviously having anticipated their phone call. "It’s Fowley and Reyes." They tell him. "Obviously. Meet me in the cave on Three-Tree island, and I’ll answer any questions you two care to put to me." He says. The girls look at each other in dismay, they hadn’t expected him to want to meet in a cave. Why a cave?" Fowley demands. "It’s private." He says flatly. "You should be able to see it along the shoreline. You’ll need a rowboat to get there, though, unless you can swim as well as I can. Be there at two pm on Wednesday." "Before you hang up on us, won’t you at least tell us what you had hoped to gain from the façade?" Reyes asks. "Ask me on Wednesday." He says, then hangs up on them, leaving the two of them to listen to the dial tone in disgust. ** Wednesday morning Mulder is sacked out on the couch, feigning interest in reading a book Scully insisted he read. He doesn’t really find "She’s come undone" by Wally Lamb to be that interesting, despite Scully and Reyes claiming that it’s "the best book ever," but it provides a reason for him to be within hearing range of the kitchen. This way he can spy on his sister’s speech secession without doing it overtly. "Samantha, lots of kids find that ‘no’ is a pretty easy word to start with. In fact it’s often a toddler’s favorite word, as I’m sure your family is going to find out within the next year and a half." Zane says. As if on cue, Price, who Mulder is keeping an eye on, begins to fuss because his swing has wound down, so Mulder goes and winds it again, and misses part of what Zane is saying to Sam. "…so you give it a shot." Mulder pretends to read his book, worrying about the long silence that follows the request. Finally he hears, "Nuh…nuhhhh….No." "Great work! Try it again." Zane says encouragingly. Mulder is glad his back is turned to Zane so the man can’t see his smirk. "No." "Wonderful." Zane praises her, and talks to her at length about things that don’t interest Mulder. Eventually Mrs. Leary comes into the living room and takes Price out of the baby swing. "Have you been a good boy for Mulder?" She asks the infant, who merely looks up at her with his midnight blue eyes. "No!" Sam chirps, in reply to her question, from the next room. Mulder takes his brother before a startled Gale drops him. "Mulder…am I imagining things, or did she just say no?" Mrs. Leary whispers. "You’re not imagining it." Mulder says with a grin. "And don’t worry, the little guy here was pretty well behaved, despite Sam’s opinion on the matter." Mulder tells her as he settles back on the couch with his brother on his lap. Price kicks the book Mulder is still holding right out of Mulder’s hand, so he decides that the baby doesn’t hold the story in high regard either. Mrs. Leary’s eagerness to interrupt the speech secession shows on her face, but she takes a deep breath and scurries back upstairs, claiming that she has something that needs to be done before she talks to Zane. "Yeah, right." Mulder whispers to Price as he reaches for the remote control. ** 2pm, in the water Fowley stops rowing for a moment and wipes the sweat from her forehead with the back of one hand. "I think I see it," she says, pointing at a dark spot along the shore. Reyes peers in that direction for a moment. "That’s definitely what he was describing. ‘A shallow cave right off of the island’s shore.’" She and Fowley pick up the pace of their rowing, and soon are looking for a place to dock along the shore. "There. We can rope the rowboat to that big rock." Fowley says as she and Reyes jump out into the shallow water and tie their knots. Once they’re satisfied that the boat is secure, they make their way to the shore. "I wish I’d worn shorts." Reyes moans, as she looks down at her jeans, which are soaked nearly to the knees. "You’ll probably be glad for the jeans, wet or not, once we get into that cave. Who knows what sort of things could be crawling around in there?" Fowley punctuates her statement with a shudder. "Good call." Reyes agrees, thinking of spiders and bugs. "Any idea why he insisted that we meet him out here?" "God only knows. I think he gets off on making this as difficult as possible." Fowley proclaims bitterly. "At least he’s agreed to meet us and explain why he did it. That should be very interesting to hear." Reyes says, her cheeks becoming red at the memory of how long it took her to catch on to his lies. "Yeah…"Fowley says with a sigh, as they reach the mouth of the cave. "Spender, we’re here." She calls in. Nothing greets them in return but the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the shore. "Spender?" After a moment she turns to Reyes. "Maybe he’s not here yet." Reyes is about to nod in agreement when she suddenly gets the feeling that he’s already there. "I think he’s in the cave, Fowley." She tells her without explaining the feeling. "You’re right. He could be hiding on us." Fowley says. "From everything you showed me, he might well be unhinged enough to try to scare us by jumping out at us or something." "Or he could be hurt." Reyes suggests, shivering. "I suppose." Fowley says, ducking into the cave. "He always was a klutz." Something crunches underfoot, making Reyes jump. "What was that??" Fowley steps into the shadows so more light can come in through the mouth of the cave. They both glance down where Reyes had stepped. "Just a mussel shell. This cave must fill up a bit during the tides." Fowley tells her. Reyes peers into the milky darkness to either side of the cave’s mouth. "Sure. It’s is a lot bigger than I thought it would be, we can even stand up without our heads touching the ceiling. This cave has got to be 20 feet wide. This is some hill it’s carved out of..." Reyes rambles nervously, looking at how the cave stretches away in both directions. "I hope we find him soon and get out of here, the cave being big doesn’t make me feel any better." "What’s the matter, are you afraid of bears being in here?" Fowley teases. "Not unless they swam over from the mainland, since this is an awfully small island." Reyes retorts. "I just…have a bad feeling about this place." As she moves, Fowley feels something bump against her leg. "Oh! I completely forgot that we have a flashlight. I think we ought to turn it on now, you think?" "Nah, I think we ought to walk around in here in the dark." "Well if you want…"Fowley giggles as Reyes swats at her. She snaps it on, and its dim light gives them an idea of what the cave is like. "Wow, there are lots of shells in here. It must flood all the time." Reyes nods in agreement. "Spender?" She shouts, listening to her voice echoing in the cave. "Come on out, we’re here to talk to you!" "Do you suppose there are passages in here? We can’t even see the back of the cave from here." Fowley complains, taking a few steps forward. "I guess so. Too bad we didn’t think to ask the Witters if we could borrow one of their police flashlights. Those things will light up an entire field. But then, we’d of had to explain why we’re in a cave, waiting to talk to your ex-boyfriend." Reyes says ruefully. "So I guess we’ll have to make due with an inferior, store-bought one." They continue to make their way through the litter of debris, which in time contains pieces of driftwood and small rocks. After five minutes or so, glancing behind them, the mouth of the cave is only a dim pinprick of light behind them. Eventually the flashlight picks out the back wall of the cave. Fowley begins methodically sweeping the back wall with the light, looking for passages. "I don’t know, Reyes, maybe he’s really not in here." She says halfway through the sweep. "He’s here." Reyes insists. A few seconds later they do find an opening in the cave wall. "Do we really want to go in there?" Fowley asks doubtfully. "Maybe we should make sure there aren’t any other passages first." Reyes suggests. Fowley begins her sweep again, and Reyes sees a large pile of driftwood over towards the side-wall of the cave. For a moment it strikes her as strange that so much would be caught up into the corner of the cave like that, until Fowley screams. Fowley rushes forward, and Reyes has to follow her least she be left alone in the dark. As Fowley begins to sob, the fact that she was mistaken about the stuff being driftwood finally penetrates her mind. Instead of wood and dead leaves, it becomes clear that the light is shining on the remains of a human being. Reyes blinks as she looks down at the bones and dirty rags of clothing that haven’t entirely rotted away, though the flesh has. She looks over at Fowley in concern. "Fowley, we’ll just call Doggett’s dad and tell him that there’s a skeleton in here. Don’t cry, it’s not anyone we know." Fowley’s shoulders shake as she cries. Finally in a strangled voice she says, "You don’t get it. Look at the ring, look at it!" Reyes nearly tells her she’d rather not, but it seems important to Fowley, so she crouches down so she can look at the ring that by some chance still clings to the bony finger. It seems like an unremarkable class ring at first, but then she realizes that the year on the side of it is their class’s. For a moment her mind reels, because there have been no news reports of any of their classmates going missing this summer. She tilts her head so she can see the far side of the ring, where she knows the initials will be. As soon as she reads it she stumbles back with her hand over her mouth, and trips over something on the cave floor and lands on her butt. The ring says "S.M." on it, and there is only one person in their class, besides Skinner, who has a different ring, with those initials- Spender. "How?" She wails, her mind in a fog of confusion. "We talked to him yesterday." "No we didn’t." Fowley replies in an emotionless voice that worries Reyes more than her crying had. "We couldn’t have. This body has been here a long time." "So maybe someone stole his ring, or someone has been impersonating him." Reyes suggests desperately. "No one stole his ring, because I can tell this is the outfit he was wearing the day he fell off the dock." Fowley says, tears running down her cheeks again. "They never did find his body…" "But we’ve seen him since then!" Reyes exclaims. "Have we? Or have we only thought we have?" Reyes stares at her. "What are you suggesting, that we’ve been spending time communicating with a ghost?" Fowley nods slightly. "I think…maybe we have. Maybe he came back so we could find his body and he could finally get some rest. "She laughs hollowly. "After all he did promise that if we met him here, we’d find out why he did everything he has." Reyes nearly tells her that that’s crazy, but she can’t think of a more plausible explanation herself. She follows Fowley silently, hoping that the authorities will provide a more logical answer once they retrieve the body. ** 11pm, Lindley home Fowley lets the tears fall down her cheeks as she tries to make sense of everything that happened. She chocks back a laugh as she thinks about her first conversation with Spender after his seemingly miraculous return to her life. The conversation only took place after I regained consciousness, she thought, finally giving into the urge to giggle, thinking about how she had fainted at the first sight of him. * Fowley realized that she was being talked to. She opened her eyes and looked up at her grandmother. "Ah, there’s my girl. I didn’t know how long you were going to be out, so we put you on the couch. You didn’t cut yourself when you fainted, but I think they’re going to need to replace your cast. The tea made quite a mess of it." "That’s ok, I’m supposed to get a walking cast anyway." Fowley mumbled. Her eyes flickered from one corner of the room to the other, looking for Spender." Did I…? Is…was Spender here?" Fowley asked, hoping it too was a dream like the nightmare she had earlier. "Oh yes. He went upstairs to get a pillow for you." Ok, Fowley thought, this isn’t happening, but I’ve got to pretend that I don’t realize it. Any second now, a dead man is going to walk into the room and I’m supposed to not be shocked about it. Spender walked into the room carrying a pillow, shield-like, wearing a tentative smile. Fowley watched him ease himself into a chair, and marveled at the thoroughness of her hallucination. His hair has grown a little since he died, and his tan is faded. He seemed to notice her acute examination of him, because he said, "I’m not dead." "Ok." She agreed placidly. "You don’t believe me." "No, but I’m supposed to. How can it be my delusion if I don’t embrace the madness?" "You’re not delusion because I’m really not dead." Fowley smiled and said, "But you are. I was there when you died, remember? Oh, well, I guess not, but I do. You fell off the dock, and never came up. I cried at your funeral three days later. You drown, you’re dead, and this conversation can’t be happening because Grams doesn’t believe in ghosts and neither do I." "Did you see my body?" Spender asked pointblank. "They never found your body. Everyone supposes it washed out to sea." Fowley replied. (excerpt from episode 2x04 "Mulder’s Creek: Dead Man Walking") * Oh Spender, she sniffs, swatting the tears off her cheeks, we’ve found it now. I hope this means you’ll be able to rest. ** Thursday afternoon, Leary home "Mom, I’m taking Sam for ice cream." Mulder calls up the stairs. "I’ll need to borrow the car." "Fine with me!" His mother calls. Price is being very cooperative about his diaper change, so she’s so distracted that she’d probably had ok’d a trip to France. "Ok, we’re going then!" Mulder says, rushing Sam out the door. When they get into the car Sam gives him a skeptical look and says, "I bet we’re not really going for ice cream." "Sure we are." Mulder tells her. "But we’re going to talk in the car since you probably won’t say a word in the ice cream place." "Obviously. What are we supposed to talk about?" she asks. Mulder glances at her for a second before returning his gaze to the road. "Since this is a short drive and we don’t have a lot of time, let’s get right to the important part. Where have you been for your whole life?" Sam shrugs, then realizes that Mulder isn’t looking at her. "I’m not sure." "You’re not sure?" He asks, a slight note of sarcasm creeping into his voice. "I mean, a lot of the time I was too young to remember, you know?" Sam says. "But I was in the same place for about the past five years." "Where was that?" Mulder asks as he pulls up in front of the ice cream place "New Mexico." Sam tells him, reaching for the doorknob. "I want chocolate ice cream." Mulder opens his mouth to ask her more questions, than realizes that it’s pointless since she’s already out of the car, and won’t say anything else while they’re around other people. He shakes his head and follows her into the building, at least they’ll be able to talk again on the way home. After a two minute wait, he ordered two chocolate ice cream cones. "Hey Sam, this is something we have in common." He says, and she only nods in return and signs ‘I like chocolate’. They take a seat in the booth, since Mulder has already been lectured about the importance of not eating in his mother’s car if he values his driving privileges. He’s about halfway through his cone when he feels someone tap his shoulder. Looking up, he sees Skinner standing behind him holding a vanilla cone. "Do you mind if I join you two?" "No, go ahead." Mulder says, sliding over to make room. "Have you heard the news yet?" Skinner asks. "What news?" Mulder asks, giving him a puzzled look. "Spender is de…I mean, my sister and Fowley found his body in a cave yesterday." "His body??" "Well, his bones, anyway. Everyone is freaking out because it looks like he’s been there for a long time. Since last year, maybe." Skinner says. "But that doesn’t make any sense. We’ve seen him this year." Mulder says in a stunned tone. "I know. I told you everyone was freaking out." Skinner says, sounding as puzzled. "Hey, could you give me a ride home? I’m supposed to be at the Ice House tonight, and if I walk back I’m going to be really pressed for time." Mulder thought, oh no, then I won’t have any time to talk to Sam since we live so close, but found himself saying, "Sure, no problem." ** 11am Saturday, Capeside Cemetery Unlike the memorial service nearly a year before, it appears as though the whole town has come to pay their respects to Spender Morgan. Dental records revealed that body is indeed one Spender Morgan, age 16, who died the summer before. The official theory is that he had fallen into the water and drown as originally suspected, but his body had washed into the cave during an unusually high tide, and caught on a rock instead of washing back out. The fact that there was a drought kept the water levels low enough that there wasn’t another tide high enough to reach the back of the cave and wash the bones out again. Which, Reyes thinks as she stands next to Fowley during the service, does nothing to explain why hundreds of people have seen him between November and July. Most people just shrug and won’t say anything more about it than it is "strange." A few people whisper amongst themselves about ghosts, but fewer believe it. Most people seem to be pretending that they never saw him. Fowley kept expecting Spender to show up after they discovered the body, and tell her that it’s all a joke. But though she keeps looking for him, he hasn’t shown up again. She tried to talk to his parents about it before the service, but they’re more hysterical about it than she is, and keep telling people that he was fine until they went up stairs to get him the morning Fowley and Reyes went into the cave. ** As they follow Grams back to the car, Reyes impulsively hugs Fowley. "I’m so sorry that we were the ones to find him, and that he’s gone." Fowley smiles faintly. "It’s strange, and it’s painful, but it’s better in a way." "What way is that?" "Now I know he didn’t change. The boy I loved didn’t really do all those terrible things we can’t explain, because he was resting in a cave all that time. We may never have a good explanation for everything that happened, but at least I know now he didn’t become sort of terrible crazy person who set out to hurt us. But I’m still going to miss him forever." Fowley says, trying not to cry again. "At least there were a few nice things about him returning." She adds, thinking of Christmas Eve and the day she returned from Europe; moments in which this Spender was so like she remembered. "I guess Grams is right, God works in mysterious ways." "Oh Fowley…"Reyes trails off, unable to think of a single thing that would offer any comfort or explanation. ** 2:30am, Lindley home Fowley wakes from a dream about the funeral because she swears she can feel someone’s arms wrapped around her. A moment before she opens her eyes, a soft kiss lands on her lips. She looks in time to see Spender walk away from her bed. "Spender!" she cries out softly, sitting up in her bed. He turns and looks at her. "I loved you." She tells him, her eyes filling with tears. "Good-bye." He smiles at her, and waves before fading away, leaving only moonlight at the foot of her bed. Fowley gasps and lies back down. She decides then and there to never tell anyone about Spender’s good-bye, so she can never be convinced it might not have been real. ** Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile ** < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Boy Hits Car ("Man Without Skin") Saves The Day ("At Your Funeral") and Poe ("Haunted") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 24 Wail Summary: Mulder finds out more about Sam's past than he ever dreamed of, and a despondant Fowley meets a man who claims to be visited by something that screams outside his window at night. Opening Scene Scully sits on Mulder’s bed, with her knees tucked up near her chin, and her arms wrapped around her legs. "I don’t get it, Mulder." Mulder, who is sprawled in his chair turns his head and looks at her. "You say that like you think I do." He half accuses her. "Don’t you? This is usually your sort of thing. I even thought you would be sort of excited and intrigued. "She replies, cocking her head to one side. Mulder sits up straighter. "Sure. I like ghost stuff, and some part of me is fascinated by this, but I have no idea whatsoever how Spender, who is dead, walked around town, looking as alive as can be, for several months. I don’t know if he was a ghost, a zombie, or something else entirely. I don’t think anyone has that sort of answer." "No one?" "Well…maybe religion does, but Spender doesn’t strike me as the Jesus type, does he you?" Mulder asks. "Definitely not the savior type." Scully agrees. "Although…" "What?" "He did perform one miracle while he was back in Capeside." Scully says with a coy smile. "Which was what?" He asks her with a puzzled look. "If it wasn’t for him, you might never had noticed me." Scully says in a sing-song tone. "I would have noticed…"Mulder says defensively. "Definitely before we turned 30." Scully giggles at him. ** Theme song- "Stranded" By Plumb ** Friday afternoon, Valentine’s garage "…I heard you say let’s go down to normal town. Let’s go down, to normal town. Right down. Down, down, down, down-" Reed sang until Krycek abruptly stops playing. "What?" he asks, looking at the other boy. "It’s not you, you are singing and playing as well as could be hoped." Krycek tells him, then turns to glare at Craig’s friend Nick, who has joined them for the one song. "Do you think you could get the timing down a bit better?" he asks sarcastically. "Look, I told you that I play the drums, like Craig does. I can sort of play flute too, but not as well. If you wanted someone better you shouldn’t have asked me to play." Nick retorts. "What’s your problem, anyway?" Craig asks, turning his dark eyes onto Krycek. Reed had noticed that Krycek had seemed agitated since the beginning of their practice. "Is there something else on your mind besides the song?" He asks. Krycek smirks at him. "Aren’t we as sensitive as advertised." Before Reed can snap at him he makes his confession. "Alright, so… I got us a gig. I kinda wanted things to be perfect with our playing before I told you guys." "Really?" Craig asks, looking interested. "When? Where?" "In a couple of weeks. At Pete’s Pockets." Krycek tells them. "At the pool hall?" Craig asks incredulously. "Yeah. They’re trying to clean up their image, so they’ve converted the room that used to hold the broken pool equipment into a small stage with a dance floor. It looks pretty sweet." "When do they plan to start offering live music?" Reed asks suspiciously. "In a couple of weeks." "We’re the guinea pigs?" Craig yelps. "Well, yeah. Look, we’re only 17, we’ve got to be grateful for any shot we get, right? So maybe things might not go as smoothly for us since we’ll be the first ever act, but if people like us, we might gain a following, you know? You’re both going to do it, right?" Krycek asks with a pleading look in his eyes. Then he turns to Nick. "I’m sorry I was rude, we need you too if you’ll play this song then." "What the hell. It’ll be good to get that first humiliation over with sooner than later." Reed says with a grin. Despite himself Krycek is a fairly decent manager who really seems to have the fledgling band’s interests at heart, and Reed admires that. "Ok, I’m in." Craig finally agrees. "What the hell." Nick says. "I can humiliate myself for one song." "Great!" Krycek exclaims. "Let’s try this song again, then." Soon the garage filled once more with the sound of alternative music covers. ** Late Sunday morning, en route to church Fowley drags her feet as she walks towards the church were she’s going to meet Grams to go to brunch. She’s not reluctant to go to eat, since her stomach is beginning to growl, but she’d had a spirited "discussion" with Grams over whether or not going to church this morning would make her feel better. It’s not as though she doesn’t think that Grams means well, because she’s sure Grams does, but it bothers her that the older woman has yet again brought up religion. Grams simply can’t seem to accept the fact that Fowley is agnostic. Her lack of religious beliefs are not meant as an affront to her grandmother, it’s just how she’s come to feel about spirituality. The thing that strikes her as ironic, as the church comes into view, is that she wishes that going to church could provide her with the comfort that Grams has come to depend on. Though it has been eight days since Spender was laid to rest, her grief is still raw. Even if his death had been more typical, it would still be normal to be depressed. Add having lost him twice… "Excuse me, Miss." Fowley nearly jumps out of her skin when a hand is placed on her shoulder. "Did you hear it last night?" The speaker, she finds as she whips around, is an elderly man wearing Bermuda shorts, black socks and thick sandals. Fowley thinks he looks harmless despite his fashion statement. "Did you hear them last night?" "Hear what?" Fowley asks, giving him a confused look. He looks puzzled too. "I don’t rightly know, but whatever it was howled something terrible last night. Right outside my window." "Maybe it was the wind." Fowley immediately suggests. "Oh, I thought so too, but I opened the front door and checked. No wind. The trees were still and there was no breeze." He told her. Fowley nodded, though she didn’t remember if there’d been wind or not the night before. Short of a branch being thrown through her window, she wouldn’t have noticed if there had been, given the state of her thoughts. "I’m sorry, I don’t remember hearing anything unusual." "That’s ok, Miss. I just thought I’d ask." He told her with a gentle smile. "I know I have no right to ask favors, since you don’t know me from Adam, but if you hear them, could you tell me? I live in that house there." He points to a small gray cottage next to the church. Before she quite knows why, Fowley finds herself saying, "Ok." He beams at her. "Thank you, Miss. I’ll let you go back to what you were doing, since I’ve taken up so much of your time." "You’re welcome." Fowley calls, spotting Grams walking out of the church. By the time they’ve walking back that way the man has gone into his house. Fowley glances at it before following Grams towards the restaurant. ** Monday morning, Potter home Bessie twirls the cord of the phone around her finger as she tries to reason with the woman on the other end of the phone. "I realize that the policy is designed to make things fair to everyone, but I gave the weeks I would be available, and this isn’t one of them…No, I can’t call in sick, I run a restaurant...No. I’m the owner, I have to be there to open…Yes, having an on-call manager would be nice, but unless you’d personally like to fund that position…Well, I don’t much care for your attitude either. I gave you fair notice about when I would be free to help. Why don’t you call another parent? There must be…Yes, but I don’t think that would be fair…She’s not even an adult anyway….Oh. I suppose I can ask her…No, I’m not going to order her to do it!" Scully, who only entered the room at the end of the conversation threw Bessie a deer in the headlights look when Bessie gave her an imploring glance. Bessie put her hand over the phone and gave Scully another appealing look. "Scully, I’ve got a problem." "What problem?" Scully asks warily. "I told the preschool when I could be available to chaperon their weekly field trips, and expressly told them I would be able to the first or third Tuesdays of the month because we open for breakfast for certain local festivals." "But they signed you up for today anyway? "Scully guesses. "Bingo. And this witch is unrelenting. She wants someone from this family there today." Bessie hisses. "Alexander is a member of our family." Scully teases. "Besides him." Bessie sighs. "Somehow they realize that you’re a teenager, so they want you to do it." "Ok." Scully says. "I told her it’s not fair to you, and that I wouldn’t force you…What?" "I said Ok. I’ll do it." "You’re a lifesaver, kiddo. Let me tell the witch." Bessie says, and Scully wonders if she intentionally took her hand off the receiver as she said witch. Scully tries not to worry about what she just got herself into. ** 11am Fowley isn’t sure why, but she’s walking back towards the church with a loaf of banana bread in her hands. She’d asked Grams about the mysterious old man she’d met, and Grams had told her a sad story. Apparently the man’s wife had left him thirty years before, taking their two children with her. After that he became depressed, and has been a recluse ever since. So Fowley baked him a loaf of bread and decided that she was almost obligated to visit him, since she was probably the first person he’d gone out of his way to talk to since before she was born. As she approaches his door she begins to have second thoughts and worries that she’s bothering him, but before she even knocks the door opens. "Oh, hello there, Miss, what brings you by?" "I was hoping to find someone to share this banana bread with." She says shyly. "Oh, my favorite! Won’t you come in?" And Fowley walks in after a second’s hesitance, but instantly decides that it’s not the city and he’s harmless so she can go in without worry. She finds her city upbringing hard to forget at times. She follows him into a nice kitchen, and watches as he selects a dull knife to cut the bread. "Oh where are my manners? I never introduced myself. I’m Albert Calhill." He tells her with a smile. "You can call me Albert." "My name is Fowley Lindley." She replies after catching his expectant look. "The things they name children these days…"he mutters to himself. "Your grandmother is one of the church ladies, I’m guessing." He cuts them both slices of the bread and slides hers towards her on a blue plate. For a moment Fowley almost laughs because his saying that makes her think of Dana Carvey. He’s probably never seen Saturday Night Live, so she stifles herself. "She is very active in the church." She agrees. He gives her a sudden intent look. "There’s an awful lot of sorrow in your eyes for a slip of a girl like you." "Oh." She says, looking down at her bread. "My…I lost someone close to me recently, a good friend. He died." "That’s terrible. But you know what they say, the good die young." He replies sadly. "We have to hold on to people tightly, because you never know when they’ll be taken from you." "Yeah, I guess." Fowley doesn’t want to talk about it, so she changes the subject." Yesterday you said you heard something howling outside your window, is it gone now?" "I’m afraid not. The same as before, something wailing terribly outside. I even called animal control last night, and they didn’t find anything. Just said it must have been scared off. I think they thought I was just a dithering old fool who imagined things." "I’m sure they didn’t." Fowley says, but she half wonders that herself. However, something is sparked at the back of her mind, and she decides to take a detour on the way home and stop off at the library. ** 11:30am "I wanna pet the sheep." "No, I wanna pet them!" a second voice insists. "Me too, me too!" A third voice pipes up. "No. Can’t. Just me." The first speaker arrogantly declares. "I can pet them too! Tell him I can pet them too!" A small hand tugged on Scully’s t-shirt, and she forced herself to grin and bear it. The entire time they’ve been at this little farm, which features several petting-zoo exhibits, she’s been more refereeing the three small children she’d been assigned to. At first she couldn’t figure out why they needed a fourth chaperone, since there were only twelve children in Alexander’s class. Then she met the kids, and wished there were a few more chaperons. She was used to one or two small children at a time, and didn’t realize that adding just one more child multiplied the problems ten-fold. "You can all pet the sheep." She declares in a firm voice, and the little boy who insisted he alone could pet them gave her, Alexander, and the little girl in the group a dirty look before pouting. Scully recognizes the gleam in his eye, and decides very quickly to re-arrange how they are grouped. "Hannah, I want you to hold Alex’s hand now, ok? It’s Jacob’s turn to hold my hand." "Ok!" the little girl pipes up, and lets go of Scully’s hand, which is only empty long enough for Scully to grab, but gently, Jacob’s hand before he flees. Scully glances over at the girl, who is wearing a sunny smile, and wonders if she was such a cute looking brat at that age. The child looks terribly sweet, but she’s caused as much trouble as Jacob, who at least looks the part of a troublemaker. There’s a few moments of peace when they do nothing more annoying to each other than bump into each other while jockeying for a good spot to reach for the placid white sheep who seem quite resigned to being clumsily pawed at by very young children. Unfortunately for Scully, three-year-olds have very short attention spans and they’re soon ready for another argument. "I wanna pet the ducks." "No, I wanna pet them!" "Me too, me too!" "No, just me!" Scully grins in spite of herself. For a moment she finds herself imagining what the discussion would have been like had it been her, Doggett and Mulder at age three: "I wanna pet the ducks!" "Me too, me too!" "Nooooo! No ducks! No ducks!" Then, their poor chaperone would have had her and Doggett hold hands while she tried to coax Mulder out of hiding after he ran away in fright. Doggett probably would have pulled her hair to make her cry, and have been rewarded with a kick in the shins, so the woman, or man perhaps, would have had three crying children on their hands. Of course, she didn’t know either of them when they were three, but she thinks her image would have been fairly accurate. Her flight of fancy makes her mood improve. Until she glances at her watch. ** 1pm Capeside Library Fowley casts a nervous glance at the front desk, and feels better when she assures herself that the librarian isn’t the woman who used to work in the elementary school’s library. She’d been told that that woman was still receiving treatment for her break with reality, but it’s always best to double check this sort of thing. The librarian notices her standing there, and looks up with a smile. "Can I help you?" She asks in a pleasant tone of voice. Fowley drags her foot across the floor. "I need to look something up, but I’m not sure where to begin." "Tell me what it is that you’re interested in, and maybe I can help you narrow down the search." The librarian replies. "That’d be great. Ok, so someone told me this story, that involved this ‘thing’ howling outside his window, and I’m pretty sure that I’ve heard something like that before." "Sounds like a banshee to me." The librarian replies. "Oh, you know, that might be it." Fowley tells her, thinking that it sounds slightly familiar. "You’ll want to look in the non-fiction section on mythical creatures." "Non-fiction?" Fowley asks, sounding surprised. "Some people take this sort of thing very seriously. There’s a whole study of those sorts of creatures called cyptozoology." "They study things like bigfoot and the Lockness monster, I take it?" Fowley asks. "That’s right." "I have a friend who might consider that a good career choice." Fowley says with a grin as she walks towards the non-fiction section. A half hour later she is wiser for her reading. She realized the moment that the librarian said "banshee" that she’d heard of them before, but she’d forgotten the details. The books filled her in. Banshees, she learned, were a Gaelic legend, and considered a harbinger of death. Banshees were thought to be ethereally beautiful women with long hair, who spent their nights making a noise that would disturb the soundest of sleepers. Some families were prone to having Banshees wailing in expectation of a death. Related to Banshees were another creature of legend, large black dogs that would haunt a property while someone was dying. The dogs, and the banshees, would abandon the family once the death they predicted came about, so families would know that they were safe. At least until they returned. Fowley closes the book with a frown. She isn’t as quick to jump to a supernatural explanation as Mulder, and her pride still stings from the fountain of youth fiasco, but the events of the last couple of weeks had made her somewhat more open-minded to the possibilities. And more afraid, because if Banshees were real…Fowley promises herself to make a through investigation of what’s hanging around Mr. Calhill’s house. ** Wednesday morning Barre Woods "You don’t think your brother will be insulted that we didn’t ask him to come with?" Doggett asks Reyes, who shakes her head. "He’s working today, so it would have been pointless to ask him." "I don’t mean to put him down, but I’m glad it’s just you and me. It’s too hot for a forced march today." "Aww, come on, it would be fun to hike hither and yon. Although Krycek isn’t with us to fall into the water, so there’s a decreased fun quotient." Reyes says with a grin. "I know you’re missing Sandy…"Doggett says, ducking out of the way before adding, "I bet you and Scully will be friends with her in the fall. Maybe she’ll even asks you two to join the cheer-leading squad." "Go team go." Reyes says dryly. "I think you’d look cute in one of those outfits." "Well, there’s always next Halloween." "Oh! And I could go as a football quarterback." Doggett says, pretending to take the suggestion seriously. "You." She says fondly. "What did I do now?" he asks plaintively. "You’re just…You." She smiles. "And that’s a good thing?" "You bet." "My, you’re easily impressed." He tells her, slipping his arm around her waist. She just nods her assent, happy that he’s a warm, living, presence in her life. For a moment she hopes that Fowley will find someone like that, but the thought flies out the window as Doggett does something silly and distracts her. ** Mid-afternoon, Calhill home "Hello Fowley, nice to see you." Mr. Calhill says, ushering her into the house. "I hope you don’t mind me dropping by again." "Oh no, I love the company." Fowley decides to get right to what’s on her mind. "How did you sleep last night?" He assumes a worried look. "Not so well, truth to be told." "The wailing again?" She asks, looking sympathetic. "Yes. It’s the darnest thing, though." "How’s that?" Fowley asks. "Well, I thought about it, and I seem to remember something my father told me when I was very young. My grandfather heard something similar before he died." Fowley gets a chill. She wonders for a moment if she should tell him about the banshees, but decides that it couldn’t have a positive outcome. She would just be worrying him needlessly. "Maybe I could ask my grandmother if I could come over tonight and see if I can figure out what it is that’s keeping you up at night." She suggests. He reaches out with one gnarled, yet soft, hand and pats hers. "I don’t think your grandmother would appreciate you being out in the middle of the night looking after an old fool like me." "She would never think you’re a fool." Fowley says, sounding shocked. "Oh no, Dear, you misunderstand. I’m calling me a fool. I know she would never speak unkindly of me, or most other people for that matter." He says with a soft smile. "Well, I’m supposed to go with her to Boston tomorrow, but I’ll come by Friday, if that’s ok with you. Maybe I can help you get to the bottom of this." She declares. "That’s sweet of you. I’ll look forward to your visit." He tells her, then they chat for a little while and listen to the ball game on the radio before she has to be on her way home. ** Thursday morning, Leary home Mulder awakens to a hand shaking his shoulder, and the sound of a crying baby. He slowly opens his eyes and sees his mother standing over his bed. A glance over her shoulder shows that it’s eight in the morning. Swallowing back a yawn, he asks "What’s the matter?" "Mulder, I need some help today. I was going to bring your brother and sister to Sam’s Club to do some shopping, but your brother isn’t feeling well. He’s not really sick, just a typical baby cold, but he’s unhappy enough to keep me from taking him shopping." "What do you need me to do?" He asks, sitting up, and wondering if he’s going to be called on to baby-sit a fussy infant. He loves his brother, but a day full of dirty diapers and baby puke is his idea of hell. Mrs. Leary wrings her hands and looks to the right as though she could see Price through the walls. "I hate to ask this, but could you take your sister with you and do the shopping? I’ve cut down the list to just groceries." "You want me to take Sam to Sam’s Club?" He asks slowly, still waking up but finding it funny nonetheless. "Yes, please. I know it’s a long drive and you haven’t had your license all that long, but you’re a good safe driver..." she shrugs, her body language showing her desperation. "No, it’s ok. Hey, Mom, have you ever taken Sam there before?" He asks. "No, I haven’t. Thanks, Sweetie." She says, patting him on the top of the head, which he hates. "You’ll drive carefully, won’t you?" "Of course, Mom." He answers absent-mindedly. He is already thinking about what a long drive it is, and how no one who has ever met him or his sister is likely to be in a store 45 minutes away. "Thanks so much, Mulder." She says, rushing out of his room and towards the now-wailing baby. ** Mulder snaps his seatbelt closed, and glances at Sam before they back out of the driveway. "Make yourself comfortable, Sam, it’s going to be a long drive." "Oh boy, can’t wait." Sam says. "You know, when you decide to talk to anyone but me, you’re going to get along with Scully and Doggett. They’re always sarcastic to me, too." "And you’re not to them?" Sam retorts. "Ok, ok. Pot, kettle, black, point taken." He says with a smirk. "So now you’re going to ask me more about where I’ve been and stuff." Sam predicts. "Good call." He disingenuously praises her. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she asks. "Begin the interrogation." Mulder wonders where to start. "Did they treat you ok?" Out of the corner he catches sight of Sam shrugging. "‘Depends on what you mean by ‘ok.’ I didn’t live with a people like in a family, but they didn’t starve and beat me if that’s what you’re worried about." "Of course I am. We don’t know where you’ve been all your life, just that someone snatched you out of your crib. People who are capable of stealing an infant are capable of anything." Mulder says heatedly. "I don’t know why you’re getting mad at me, it’s not as though I had any say in it." Sam complains. Mulder shakes his head slightly. "I’m not mad a you. I’m mad at them. Ok, so you didn’t live with a family, so how did you live, then?" "I don’t know a good term for it…you know how people all live together, like at a school or if they’re in the army?" "Like in a dorm or barracks?" Mulder supplies. "I guess. Sort of like that. Big building with everyone there together. "Sam concludes. "Who is everyone? Other kidnapped kids, people in charge?" "Yeah. And doctors and more kids too. But, Mulder, we didn’t know that we were kidnapped, you know. And some of the kids weren’t, because they were born there. Or their parents didn’t want them any more." Mulder tries to decide which part of what she said to ask about first. "You didn’t realize you’d been kidnapped?" "Nope. I mean, from some of the stuff I read I got the idea that lots of kids live with their parents, but not all of them, because some parents die or don’t want their kids. Jubilee from the X-Men comics lived at a school, and it seemed sort of like that where I was. But I don’t think it was a school, Mulder. I really don’t." "Why were there doctors, and why were their kids born there?" Mulder asks. "I’m not sure. Those kids, they couldn’t play with us or talk to us. Even when we had classes they were kept apart from us. Or the other way around, maybe, since there were only five or six other kids I could talk to and play with. I think, now that I’m home, that they were like me. Normal kids. The other kids weren’t normal, Mulder." "Not normal how?" Mulder asks as he stops for a red light. "They could do things. Do things with their minds that most people can’t, I think. I only heard a little about it since they kept me separate from them, like I said. I think the doctor’s made them." Mulder gets a sudden chill as he thinks back to the last day school, and how the butterflies had almost seemed to be obeying a command… "Sam, this is really important. Were there any babies there?" "Yeah, lots. They had a nursery for them on another floor. Why?" Mulder’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. "We’ll talk about that some other time, once I’ve had some time to think about it." Sam opens her mouth to protest, but instead says, "Ok." If Mulder could have seen her face he would have seen questions written all over it. "Sam, did you know that you were coming to live with us?" Mulder asks her once he’s calmer. "No. They woke me up one morning, told me to get dressed and come down stairs instead of going to class. Then they put me in car and drove to the airport. I took a plane with one of the teachers. They wouldn’t tell me anything at all. Once the plane landed, the teacher rented a car and drove to the hospital. He told me to go up to room 314 and that my real family would be there, and I was going to live with my family from now on. Then he drove off, without so much as looking back to see if I really went into the hospital." Sam explains. "That must have been very scary." Mulder comments gently. "It was. I didn’t even know I had a family, then I was suddenly meeting my parents and two brothers. No one even told me if it was ok to talk to you people about my past or anything, so I was worried I’d say the wrong thing and be punished for it." "So you didn’t say anything at all." "It seemed like the smartest idea. If I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t say the wrong thing, right? " "Good point." Mulder says. "You know though, I have a feeling that when you start to talk to Mom and Dad, they won’t actually ask you a lot of questions about your past." "Why not? They’re been pestering me to talk all summer. Why wouldn’t they immediately want me to tell them where I’ve been?" Sam asks, sounding very puzzled. Mulder sighs. "The day you came back, when Price was born, I talked to Dad before bed. I asked him the same things I asked you today: where you’ve been, and who with… and he said he was told that if they only found out that morning that you were coming back, and was told that if he asked questions, they couldn’t have you back. And I wasn’t ever to ask them again. But he was lying, Sam. He and Mom must have known you were coming home, because they set up the guest room right before Price was born. They told me that Aunt Gwen was coming to stay with us, but I talked to Aunt Gwen. They never even asked her." "So you think that they’re not going to ask because they already know where I was and stuff?" Sam asks. "I think they might even know why." Mulder says quietly. "Well, that’s more than I know." Sam replies sounding angry. Mulder wonders what she thinks of their parents, but is afraid to ask. So instead he asks the other question nagging at him. "Sam…what’s with the super heroes?" "Huh?" "Spiderman, X-men, Batman Beyond…you really seem to like them." Mulder comments. "Oh. They liked us to read them. I think they said that it encourages ‘tolerance’. You know, for the weird kids." Sam replies. "Sounds like it really worked." Mulder kids, making her laugh. ** Friday morning, Cahill house Fowley is somewhat surprised that the front door is closed, since Mr. Calhill has a tendency to leave to only keep the screen door closed. She knocks on the front door, and worries when he doesn’t answer the door. She walks around to the back door, intending to knock there as well, but then notices that there are no sounds coming from the house at all. The radio is silent for the first time. Fowley sits on the steps for a moment, feeling guilty and overwhelmed. She should have told him about the banshees so he could try to escape them. The books she read weren’t really clear on whether you could out run them, but if she mentioned them, he might have had a shot at trying to get away from them. Now his house was closed up, because he died the day before. She wondered if she walked over to the church if they would at least tell her when the funeral was so she could pay her last respects, not that she deserved to since she wasn’t a good friend. She stands with a sigh and starts walking towards the church. Before she is halfway there a woman comes outside and begins to walk towards her. "Are you Fowley Lindley?" The woman asks. "Yes." Fowley answers, bracing herself for accusations and guilt-trips. "Oh good, I was hoping that was you I saw knocking on Mr. Calhill’s door. He left a letter for you here at the church. I’ll pop in and get it." A letter? She wonders. How did he have time to write a letter? "Here it is." The woman says, handing Fowley an envelope addressed to her in a slightly spidery hand. Fowley thanks the woman, and walks back to Mr. Calhill’s steps to open the letter. Dear Fowley, I’m sorry that I’m going to be missing your visit tomorrow. I saw a doctor this morning, and he explained what I’ve been hearing for the past several nights. Apparently some mishap has happened to my poor eardrum, and it has made ordinary night sounds become distorted. Once he told me that I realized that I wasn’t hearing other things quite normally during the day, but I was so used to the sounds of the radio and so on that I was able to fool myself into thinking the sounds were fine. I thought about your young friend dying, and got to musing about how it’s an even greater tragedy than death to love someone and not let them know it. So once I got home from the doctor’s, I did a rather brave thing: I picked up the phone and called my youngest son to tell him I love him. He and I talked for hours, then he begged me to come live with him, at least until whatever it is I did to my ears heals, although I think the doctor is full of bull but too polite to tell me that I’m imagining things. How would I hurt my ears without knowing it? Anyway, I think my son would like me to live with him from now on, truth to be told. So, by the time you read this letter, I’ll be on a plane to his house, seeing him for the first time in five years. I did my boys a disservice by distancing myself after their mother left, so I’m hoping to try to make amends. My older boy is bringing his family for a visit too, so hopefully I’ll begin to heal the breach on both fronts at once. Thank you so much for making an old fool think long and hard about how he wants to spend his remaining days. I’ve enclosed my address, and I’d love to hear from you if you have the chance to write, dear. My son told me about this newfangled thing called e-mail, over the computer of all things, so maybe you could send a letter that way too, once I know my address. I hope you find another boy worthy of your love soon. Oh, I know you didn’t tell me that the boy who died was someone you loved, but when you get to be as old as me you can tell that sort of thing from the look in someone’s eyes. You’re a sweet girl, and whoever you end up will be lucky to have you. Take care of yourself. Love, Albert Calhill Fowley puts the letter back into the envelope, and goes home with a happier heart. Instead of killing an old man she helped him see his life in a new way. Not a bad week’s work. She decides that she’s going to write to him as soon as she gets home so she can promise to keep an open mind and heart where love is concerned, even it’s a little scary and hard. ** Saturday The Icehouse Reed keeps giving Skinner and Scully expectant looks, so, while the two of them do a chore for Bessie out of his sight, they make a quarter bet on how long it will be before he spits out whatever it is that’s on his mind. Skinner wins the bet an hour and a half into their shift. "Hey, uh, are you guys doing anything next weekend?" Reed asks them, sounding shy. "I don’t have any plans." Scully says. "Me neither." Skinner adds. "Why?" "Oh…our band has got a small gig next weekend, and I was hoping maybe that you’d come and hear us." Reed says, his face rapidly turning beat red. "I don’t see why not." Scully tells him. "Maybe I can get Mulder to come too. I’ve been wanting to hear this great voice of yours for myself, anyway." She says, giving Skinner a pointed look that he ignores. "I’ll be there for sure." Skinner says. "For once I’ll have an excuse not to watch sports with my dad." "That’s great." Reed says, grinning despite his blush. ** Afternoon, Lindley home After cutting her sandwich into two rectangles of equal size, Fowley put a handful of chips on her plate, and picked up her glass of cold lemonade. She eyed the frosted brownies, but decided that she should wait to cut herself one until she was ready to eat it, least it get stale. Grams, who had already brought her lunch to the kitchen table watched her with amusement. As Fowley took her seat she gave the girl a gentle smile. "I heard that your Mr. Calhill is no longer in Capeside." "You’re right. He went to live with one of his sons." "So…are you glad you got to know him?" Grams asks, giving Fowley a look that makes her wonder if her grandmother is clairvoyant. "Very glad. I think he and I both benefited from meeting each other. He left me a letter to tell me that I made him think that he should try to get to know his sons again." Fowley explains. "And what did you get from him?" "He made me realize that I can get to know someone and lose them without it hurting very badly. Some times the kindest thing you can do is let someone go." Fowley says with a half-smile, silently adding to herself that she can also get close to someone without them dying on her. "That sounds very valuable indeed." Grams says, returning the smile. ** Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile ** < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Beth Orton ("She cries your name") Fuel ("Mary pretends") and Crazytown ("Drowning") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 25 New Mexico Summary: When Mulder is unexpectedly left in charge during his parent's business trip, he takes the opportunity to take Sam on a search for answers. Opening scene Price lays sprawled on his stomach on Mulder’s bed. He lifts his head up so he can watch his older brother, who is putting something on his desk. Mulder notices this and turns to the baby with a smile. "Hey, you’re getting good at that." Price doesn’t respond with words, of course, but does look at Mulder. "I bet you’ll be sitting up on your own in no time, then walking a few months later. I guess I’ll have to put a lot of my stuff up on the shelves when you’re mobile. "Price demonstrates one of his other new skills, and grants Mulder a toothless smile. Mulder kneels down by the bed in Price’s line of sight, and continues to talk to him. "Mom says you’re too little to understand what I say, but I know you’re a little genius." He’s rewarded with another baby smile. "Sam’s a genius, and I’m a genius, so you must be one too, right? The genes run in the family." Price gurgles with what Mulder considers to be assent. "See? I knew you understand what I’ve been telling you. " Mulder traces the pattern on the back of the baby’s sleeper. "So…do you like trains, or what? Sure, the engine matches the blue of your eyes, but doesn’t it get old having no say in what you wear? Mom dresses you in things with trains and cars on them all the time, but maybe you’d like blocks better." Price gurgles again. "You have a silly brother, don’t you, Price? Oh yes you do!" Mulder says, scooping Price up and wondering how long it will be before his brother starts to laugh. He just hopes that a biting sense of humor doesn't come along with the genes for intelligence, since it’d be nice to have someone who isn’t sarcastic in his life. ** Theme song – "Stranded" By Plumb ** Sunday, 10am, Witter home The door to Doggett's room opens slowly. Doggett, who is half awake, curls more tightly into a ball and is glad that he's facing the wall. "Doggett." A hand pokes his shoulder. Doggett squeezes his eyes even more tightly closed. "Doggett." Someone sits on the foot of his bed and bounces. Doggett breathes deeply and evenly, and doesn't open his eyes. "Doggett." One hand grabs his foot and another begins tickling it. "Ahhhh!" Doggett sits up with a shocked look on his face. Gretchen gives him a sweet smile. "Does pretending to sleep actually fool Mom and Dad?" "Every weekend." Doggett moans. "What do you want?" "If you'll look at your clock, you'll see that it's so late that most people have already joined humanity." "So?" Doggett grumbles. "I like sleeping." "So I thought that today would be a good day to go fishing. I'm only going to be home for a few more weeks and- " "Save the guilt trip. I'll go with you." Doggett says, heaving himself out of bed. "Oh good. See you downstairs." Gretchen says, bounding out of the room. Doggett shakes his head and rubs his eyes. He then grabs for a pair of khaki shorts and a dark blue t-shirt. Five minutes later he's a presentable as he has the energy to be. Once he's in the living room, he notices that Kersh is home and whistling a happy tune. "Hey, Kersh, do you have today off?" He asks. "As a matter of fact I do." "How are you going to spend a hard-earned day off?" He asks without a trace of sarcasm, since he really does think his brother is over-worked. "I'm going fishing." Kersh says with a grin. "Hey that's funny, because-" Doggett stops when Gretchen walks into the room. Kersh holds up his car keys and lets them jangle. "Everyone ready to go?" Doggett follows his older siblings with a confused look on his face, still trying to figure out what he'd gotten himself into. ** Noon, Leary home While the parents aren't watching, Sam flicks part of her egg salad sandwich across the table at Mulder. He grimaces and is about to retaliate when he notices that his father is looking at him. He guiltily lets his hand drop back to the side of his plate. Mrs. Leary smiles at them both, which makes Mulder nervous. Mr. Leary clears his throat and says, "We have something we wanted to talk to you both about." Mulder braces himself. Well, he thinks, it can't be that they're having another baby since Price is only three months old, and we're not having turkey dinner with friends. If Sam has any suspicions, she keeps them to herself. Mrs. Leary says, "I've been offered a job covering a huge arts festival for two weeks. The station is doing an exclusive on it, and it's supposed to be a fairly big deal. " "That sounds great, Mom." Mulder says, wonder why his mother's reporting counted as news. At least of a family variety, anyway. "It's in New York, and your Dad is coming with me." She concludes. "Oh." "Your Aunt Gwen has agreed to take Price while we're gone, so you won't have to worry about him. Mulder, do you think you could handle taking care of the house with your sister," Mulder thinks it's nice that he said 'with' instead of 'and' as not to wound Sam's nearly teenage dignity. "While we're gone?" Mr. Leary asks. "I think I can handle it. Sam will be a big help, right?" Mulder asks, and Sam nods. "I'm glad to hear that." Mrs. Leary says. "We'll leave money for food and such of course." "Ok." Mulder replies. "Did I tell you we're leaving tomorrow?" Mrs. Leary asks. Mulder just shakes his head with a surprised look on his face. ** 12:30pm, The Weathervane The waitress smiles as she places the plates on the table. Doggett gives his food a quizzical look. "I don’t get it." "We’re having lunch." Kersh helpfully explains. "I understand that." Doggett snaps, glaring at Kersh. "What I don’t understand is why Gretchen asked me to go fishing if we were only going to lunch." "There are fish here." Gretchen says, gesturing with her hand. "On our plates, even." Doggett sighs in defeat. "You just cooked this up between you to drive me crazy." He says mournfully. "Too late." Kersh shoots back gleefully. "We’re not trying to drive you crazy, Doggett. We’re saving you!" Gretchen exclaims. "From what?" Doggett plaintively asks. "From a fate worse than death." Kersh intones. Gretchen swats at him. "Kerry is on vacation. She called mom this morning and threatened to bring the kids over for lunch." Gretchen explains. Doggett shudders. "Thank you for sparing me from putting up with Sis and the no-neck monsters. But why?" He asks, looking at his brother. Kersh gives him a friendly cuff on the shoulder. "Even I like you too much to allow you to be subjected to that." "Thanks. I think. What was the cover story?" Doggett asks. "You and I promised last week that we’d go with Kersh today to keep him company while he fished. We’re sorry, but we can’t break a promise." "Won’t the lack of fish tip her off? I suppose we could bring home the leftovers, but the breading will probably give us away." "The fishing gear is in the trunk. We’ll go after lunch." Kersh says. "The deviousness of this whole afternoon is a little scary." Doggett says in awe. Gretchen pats his hand. "We expect great things from you in the future too." Doggett grins at his siblings. ** Monday11am, Leary home "…make sure you lock both doors if neither of you is going to be in the house, don't let your sister stay up past midnight, and double check that the stove is off when you're done with it." Mrs. Leary says, then pauses for breath for the first time in fifteen minutes. If I let Sam stay up past midnight will she turn into a gremlin? Mulder wonders, but doesn't ask. "Mom, when have you known me to use the stove? We'll stick to using the microwave only. And we'll be safer for it." Mulder assures her. She nods, but Mulder worries that she might cry again when she turns her shiny eyes towards Sam. She had already burst into tears once that morning, right after Gwen left the house with baby Price on her shoulder. At first Mulder had figured that Price would be the only one of them that would be hard for her to leave for two weeks, since he was just an infant and most mothers found it hard to leave their new babies. But then he realized that though Sam was quite a big girl, their mother hadn't had her much longer. He represses his sigh as his mother gathers his sister into her arms, and worries about how she'll take it in two years when he's off to college for the first time. "You be a good girl and mind your brother, ok?" "Ok." Sam says. She'd added a few words to what she was willing to say, much to the delight of their parents. "I'm so sorry that I'm not going to be here for your birthday. I tried to get them to let me leave for the day, but it's just not possible. Daddy and I will have to make a big deal of it when we get back." She says in a sad tone, making Mulder feel bad for her since she looks so heart-brokenly guilty. "Don't worry, Mom, I've got something in mind to make her birthday special while you're gone." Mulder says, trying to cheer them both up. "That's sweet of you Mulder." After a few more lectures and hugs, their parents leave Mulder and Sam standing at the window waving. "You were just saying that to make Mom feel better, right?" Sam asks. "Of course not. I'm not going to let your first birthday go by without being a memorable one." Mulder says with a grin. "It's not my first birthday, I'm going to be thirteen, after all." Sam objects. "Ok, first one with us, then." Mulder corrects himself. "I've actually got to go do something related to it right now, so try not to destroy the house, ok?" "Ha." Sam flops onto the couch and gives him a sour look. ** Tuesday Capeside town beach, 4pm Scully lets her ankle trail back and forth in the water as she props herself up with her arms behind her on the dock. Reyes, on the other hand, is sitting up straight so her legs are in the water up to her knees. They’d swam most of the afternoon and are too tired to swim any longer, but too hot to leave the water entirely. "We seem to be doing this a lot lately." Scully remarks, turning her head slowly to look at Reyes. Her sunglasses slip on her nose, so she makes a quick grab for them. "It’s summer, it’s what we crazy kids do." Reyes’ sunglasses stay firmly on. "You should put on more sunscreen, you’re starting to burn." Scully sighs and grabs the bottle up off of the dock. "They claim this crap is waterproof. I should sue." "Hey why not, it’s probably make a good school project for the fall." Reyes agrees. "I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, but I don’t think you’ll like it…" "So it has something to do with Fowley?" Scully asks with a tilt of her head. If Reyes wasn’t wearing sunglasses, Scully would be able to see her blink in surprise. "Wow, you’re good." Scully shrugs. "Nah. Barring you shockingly confessing that you have designs on my boyfriend, I can’t think of anything else you’d ever bring up that I’d object to." "Do you still hate her?" "I never hated her! It was just… extreme dislike." Scully says defensively. Behind her shades Reyes rolls her eyes. "Ok, whatever. Do you still dislike her to great extremes?" "No, I no longer have any reason to. To be perfectly honest, I haven’t given her a lot of thought since she came back. I do feel bad about what happened with Spender, though. She must be lonely." "Exactly!" Reyes exclaims. "Exactly what?" Scully asks, sounding bewildered. "Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Anyway, what I really want is to enlist your help on a project." "Which is…?" "Helping Fowley get over Spender. There are a lot of nice single guys, we’ve just got to help her find one that’ll take her mind off of her grieving. " "I don’t know…people don’t usually like it when others decide to meddle with their personal lives-" "Meddle? You’re saying I meddle?" Reyes sputters. Scully ignores her interruption. "-and it takes a long time to get over the death of someone you love. You must know that from experience." Scully adds, thinking of Reyes’ older brother, Tim. "I’m not saying that we’re going to set her up on a blind date or anything, but find a likely guy and give her a nudge in the right direction. It can’t hurt, right?" "It can’t hurt as long as you promise me that you’ll back off if she gets upset with us. I don’t think having her pissed off at me would be a step in the right direction if I ever want her and I to be able to be on friendly terms." Scully says firmly. "Oh sure, if she tells us to butt out we do immediately, no arguing." Reyes readily agrees. "All right. If I think of anyone who might be a good match for her, I’ll let you know." Scully reluctantly tells her. "Great! What do you say to asking her to come with us to the mall tonight?" "Don’t push it." Scully growls, then shrieks when a Reyes splashes water at her with one foot. ** Thursday 8pm, Leary home Mulder pushes "send" then closes out the web browser once the confirmed page pops up. He walks out of his room and listens at the top of the stairs, checking to see if Sam is still playing a video game. When he decides that she is, he goes back into his room. His closet is neater than usual, so he’s able to find what he wants rather quickly. Only one thing falls on him as he wrestles the oversized backpack out of the closet. He’d gotten the bag for Christmas his Freshman year, to use on overnight school skiing trips. It had been hanging in his closet since they got back from their aborted ski trip in January. While he isn’t planning to use it for skiing, of course, it’s very roomy, which is what he needs He hunts through his dresser for several days’ worth of socks, underwear, t-shirts and shorts, and throws them into the bag. He adds a pair of jeans and a hoodie for good measure, just in case things get cooler than he anticipates. Once he’d put his stuff in the bag he checks again on what Sam is doing before carrying the backpack into her room. He throws in a similar selection of clothes into the backpack for her, and looks around the room for the book she’s reading and the stuffed bear she won’t admit that she’d been sleeping with for the past three months. Since there is still room he adds a couple of more books for each of them and the book-lights that their parents have recently given them. Right before he goes down stairs he remembers that he needs something from the attic, so he puts in a huge effort to go up the quietly and quickly. Once he’s got what he needs he buries it under his own clothes. Sam looks up him with interest when she sees the backpack. "Nice bag, Mulder. Going camping?" Mulder shakes his head. "Remember that I said I wanted to do something special for your birthday?" "Yeah, but it’s not for days yet." Sam objects. Mulder adjusts the backpack before saying, "I know, but we need to go right now for the surprise." Sam gives him a suspicious look. "You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?" "Nope. Check to make sure the back door is locked and the stove is off, ok?" "But we haven’t used the back door or the stove." Sam objects. "I know, but we promised Mom." Mulder tells her with a beatific smile. Sam sighs deeply and turns off her game. Mulder pats his pocket to make sure that the note he wrote is in it, and grabs his cell phone. When Sam comes back she gives him pleading eyes. "Will you at least give me a hint about where we’re going?" "First we’re going to Scully’s house to drop off a note." Mulder tells her. "Hopefully without getting caught by her and Bessie while we do it." "And then?" "And then the adventure begins." Mulder tells her with a grin, which she does not return. ** 8:30 pm, somewhere near Scully’s house Mulder is able to tape the note to Scully’s door without arousing anyone’s notice. He’d been afraid that Fox might have heard and started barking, but the puppy had been quiet. As he walks away he wonders if four-month-old puppies sleep as much as three-month-old infants. Sam trails after him as he walks along the road. "Mulder, what are we doing? It’s dark out, why are we walking? I don’t like walking in the dark." She shivers despite the warmth of the night air. Mulder gives her shoulder a reassuring pat. "We won’t be walking much farther, don’t worry." "Don’t worry. Easy for you to say since you actually know what’s going on." Sam snaps. Five minutes later a large well-lit building comes into sight. It’s surrounded by a huge parking lot that is flanked by sternly worded signs that forbid parking. Sam shakes her head and is even less thrilled when she figures out where it is that they’ve walked to. Mulder, ignoring the frown on his sister’s face, strides up to the counter and speaks politely to the bored looking woman. "Two tickets to Manchester, New Hampshire please." "That’ll be twenty-five fifty." She responds, sounding as bored as she looks. Mulder slides the money over the counter, and is handed two white and orange tickets. "The bus leaves in twenty minutes, boarding begins in five." "Thanks." Mulder tells her, going back to Sam. "What’s in Manchester, Mulder?" Sam asks, taking her ticket. Mulder is surprised that she isn’t argumentative about it. He begins to sense that below her irritation she’s actually curious about what he has in mind, maybe even a little excited. "Truthfully? Not a whole lot, which is sort of sad since it’s one of the state’s largest cities. It’s a starting point, though." "Ok, whatever." Sam sighs and takes her ticket from him. Mulder shrugs off the bag, and pulls the book-lights and their books from it before closing the bag up again. By the time the bag is back on his shoulder a man in a blue uniform opens the door to the bus saying "Capeside Massachusetts to Manchester New Hampshire. Please leave bags on the sidewalk for storage before boarding the bus." Mulder herds Sam in front of him, and they have their choice of seats since there are only three other people waiting to get on the bus. "Do you want the window, Sam?" Mulder asks her. Sam gives him a suspicious look. "You want me to sit by the window so you can protect me from strangers?" The look on his face suggests that the thought did occur to him, but it doesn’t linger. "I thought you might prefer it. Sue me for trying to be nice." Mulder says with a pout. "Thanks." Sam says, plunking herself down on the window seat and taking her book from him. Mulder sits next to her and opens his own book. The bus is full fifteen minutes later, and pulls away from the bus station. ** 12am, Manchester, NH Mulder wakes Sam up, and he coaxes her off the bus and into another building. She’s bleary-eyed but walks without stumbling. Mulder himself is wide awake, and her realization of that doesn’t do much to improve her mood. Mulder tells her that she can take a seat, which she collapses into gratefully. She yawns and only half hears the conversation Mulder has at the counter. "Hi, I ordered tickets on line. Here’s my confirmation code." He tells the man, sliding a piece of paper across the counter towards him. "Thanks, this makes it easier on me." The man remarks, before turning to type at his computer. A moment later a set of tickets are printed out. "Here you go. Your flight leaves in one hour." "Thanks a lot, sir." Mulder says while scooping up the tickets. "We’re in an airport." Sam accuses him. "Yes, I know." "We live an hour from an airport. Why did we take a bus to an airport three hours from home?" "Because the airline we’re taking doesn’t fly out of Boston, it flies out of Manchester. If we got a flight out of Boston it would have cost nine hundred dollars, which I can’t afford. Coming up her to take this flight costs two hundred and fifty." Mulder explains. "Ok, yeah, nine hundred is a lot of money. But where did you get two-hundred and fifty dollars?" "You know how I go to the video store and help people? They pay me for that for some reason." Sam punches him in the shoulder. "You are such a jerk." "People keep telling me that." Mulder tells her with a wry smile. "Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?" "Nah, I think I’ll let you figure it out on your own. Do you want something from Dunkin Donuts? I’m having a coffee and a couple of donuts." Sam is about to wave off the offer when her stomach growls. "Yes please. Two donuts, one blueberry and one honey dip, and chocolate milk please." "Ok, I’ll be right back." By the time Mulder gets back she’s already asleep again. He feels bad waking her, but decides that she can sleep during the flight. "Wake up, Sam." She wakes up and takes her food. "Thanks." She nearly sounds thankful ** Forty-five minutes later they’re sitting in the plane. Mulder has defeated her best efforts to discover where they’re going, because he wouldn’t let her have her ticket, and covered her eyes when she tried to read the terminal screens. As they’re buckling their seatbelts the captain makes an announcement. "…thank you for flying Southwestern flight 208 from Manchester, New Hampshire to New Mexico." Sam turns to Mulder with wide eyes. "This is your idea of a good birthday present?" "Yup. This might be the only chance to give you something that matters: The truth." "I hope you know what you’re doing, Mulder." Sam sighs and leans back in her seat so she can look out the window at the darkness. ** 5am, New Mexico Mulder picks up his backpack from the luggage carousel and takes Sam’s hand so they don’t get separated in the airport. Sam looks up at him with sad eyes. "No more planes or buses or even trains, please Mulder." "Not right now. There’s supposed to be a motel right nearby so we’ll crash there for a few hours, ok? Sleeping during the day probably won’t do a lot for jet-lag, but we’ll feel better after sleeping." Sam is too tired to respond, but docilely follows Mulder while he makes arrangements to check into a hotel. They’re checked in quickly and go up to their room. Sam collapses on one of the beds and kicks off her shoes. "Mulder, how did you get the room? I thought you had to be eighteen to rent a room. " "At some places you’re supposed to be, but I think they only give you trouble if you pay cash. Most people assume that you’re over 18 if you have a debit card." Mulder holds up a blue piece of plastic. "Our bank is just progressive enough to let you get them at sixteen. They didn’t even ask me for ID. " He might have continued his explanation if he didn’t realize that Sam is sleeping soundly on the top of the blankets. He smiles to himself and pulls the covers up over her before going into the bathroom to change. ** Friday 8am, Leary home Zane gives Scully a quizzical look as he notices her waiting on the steps. She stands up and smiles weakly. "You’re Zane, right?" she asks, although she already knows the answer. "That’s right." "Good. Mulder must have stopped by my house early this morning, because he left me a note. Apparently he and Sam went to spend the week at his Aunt’s house. "Scully tells him. "Mr. and Mrs. Leary said that Samantha would be looked after by Mulder this week, so that there was no reason not to continue her sessions in their absence. And Mulder didn’t say that anything had changed when I was here Wednesday." Zane says, sounding confused. Scully shrugs. "I think that they decided that they’d feel better at their Aunt’s house. In Mulder’s defense, I’ve tasted his cooking, and I don’t think that anyone could survive an entire week on it." Scully says, remembering that Home ec had been an all around disaster for Mulder. "Well, thanks for letting me know that they’re not here. It’ll keep me from wasting time checking back for them." Zane says, sounding a bit annoyed to Scully. "You’re welcome." Scully smiles. "Hey, do you like live music?" "Sure, why?" Zane asks. "My friend Reed’s band is playing at Pete’s Pockets tonight, and he sort of asked me to spread the word. It’s their first show, so they’re worried that no one will come. I figured that you’re young, and probably like music, so you might like the heads up." "Thanks. I’ll probably drop by and check it out." Zane tells her, thinking of his utter lack of weekend plans. "Great. Maybe I’ll see you there." Scully says, getting an idea that she can’t wait to share with Reyes. She watches as he gets into his car and drives off. ** 7pm, Pete’s Pockets The brand new dance floor at Pete’s Pockets is crowded as the very first band to ever grace the stage comes out with the guitars. The drum kit was put up hours before, so Craig is empty-handed as he heads for it. Krycek grabs the microphone and gives the audience his sexiest smile. "Hi, we’re Beer Is Not A Sex Crime, and we want to thank you for coming out tonight to see us!" There’s an appreciative roar from the crowd as the band begins to play. Reed, looking unexpectedly calm, takes his place before the microphone and begins to sing. I still remember you dressed in gray working undercover for the CIA You were cursing Silber living in Back Bay Sailing on the Charles when I heard you say Let’s go down To normal town Let’s go down To normal town Right down. Down, down, down, down Down, down, down, down Reyes pokes Fowley in the side. "I think he’s over there!" she says, pointing into the corner. Fowley struggles to see through the densely packed people. I washed you lover and scrubbed your face Running from Miss Porter's you showed up one day From a flat in South End where you made me strong You said, "We're burning out at both ends." So I came along. "Oh, I see him. Don’t you?" Scully asks. Fowley shrugs, then catches sight of him. "I see him now." Fowley admits. Let’s go down To normal town Let’s go down To normal town Right down. Down, down, down, down Down, down, down, down "So go talk to him!" Reyes urges. Hey! Wouldn't it be great to never worry about your future never asking why? Hey! Hey? In a subdivision watching television and our lives go by. Zane notices that a pretty, dark-haired girl is making her way through the crowd. He’s surprised when he realizes that she seems to be heading right for him. She looks vaguely familiar, and it finally occurs to him that he has seen her before, at the Leary’s house. "Great song, huh?" She asks, looking a little shy, which amuses him since she was bold enough to come up to him. "Yeah…friends of yours?" He asks. Let’s go down To normal town Let’s go down To normal town Right down. Down, down, down, down Down, down, down, down She shakes her head. "Friend of friends. I was gone most of the time that Reed has lived here." She says loudly, hoping to be heard over the music. Let’s go down To normal town Let’s go down To normal town Right down. Down, down, down, down Down, down, down, down "Where were you?" Zane asks. "Europe." Fowley shouts over the applause as the song ends. "World traveler, huh?" Zane quips. "Technically, I suppose. My parents and I are sort of estranged, and they insisted on taking me with them for six months." Fowley says, relieved that the sounds of the crowd have quieted to a dull roar between songs. "You don’t sound very happy about that." Zane comments. Reyes and Scully stare across the crowd room looking amused. They sing along with the next song, laughing. Cause everyone's a critic, and even on your best days Someone's got something bad to say "Residual bitterness. I was happy enough in Capeside before they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse." She says with a wry smile. "That’s the first time I’ve hear someone say something good about this town while sober." Fowley tilts her head to one side. "You don’t like it here, then?" They finally notice that the group has launched into another cover when Reed and Krycek are singing the chorus. When push comes to shove You’ve got to hold on You’ve got to be strong And look for that light from above Cause everyone's out to bring you down And if you can't keep your head up Then you're lost "It’s all right. It’s just sort of lonely when you’re from out of town, you know?" Zane asks, turning his brown eyes back towards her. "Sure. Once you meet someone nice it’ll be less lonely then." Fowley says innocently. "You think so?" Zane asks with a smile. Fowley blushes because she hadn’t meant to flirt, but he obviously thinks she had. ** 7:30pm Roswell, New Mexico Since they were exhausted, Mulder and Sam end up sleeping until two in the afternoon. They miss the nearest bus by one hour, so they’re told that they’ll have to wait for three hours for the next one. Mulder is annoyed, but Sam thinks that it’s a wonderful opportunity to do what most girls love to do: go shopping. Mulder first thinks to object, but quickly decides that being dragged shopping by someone he himself has dragged across the country is something he had better suck up and deal with. He does, however, talk Sam out of buying things that have "NM" printed across them, by reminding her that their parents aren’t supposed to know where they are. She instead buys herself her own backpack, explaining that if their parents ask he can claim that he took her to back to school shopping. At six pm they board their last bus west. The bus eventually comes to a stop in the middle of a small desert town. Passengers begin to disembark without needing to be told to do so. Once they get off the bus, Sam and Mulder yawn and stretch their arms skywards. Sam rubs her eyes with the back of one fist and looks at her brother. "Well, now what?" Mulder points to a restaurant that has a fake UFO stuck through the side of it. "I think we should go there and grab a bite to eat. Then we can ask one of the locals to recommend a nice, not too expensive, place to stay." Sam shrugs and follows him. Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Better Than Ezra ("Normal Town") Trik Turner ("Sacrifice") and Econoline Crush ( "You don’t Know What It’s Like") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 26 Roswell Summary: Mulder and Sam try to learn about her past with a little help from some extrodinary teens in Roswell. Opening scene Sam stops in her tracks, still several yards from the restaurant. "What is it, Sam?" Mulder asks her as he walks back towards her. "I was just thinking. What’s going to happen when Mom and Dad call the house and get no answer?" "That won’t happen." Mulder assures her. "What do you mean? They’re bound to call. They’ve already called twice this week." "Ah, but they won’t get no answer. We’ll answer the phone." "Mulder, the phone is across the country, how could we answer it?" Sam asks, looking puzzled. Mulder pats his pocket. "Through the magic of call forwarding. Mom and Dad will call the house, but my cell phone will ring instead of the home phone." "The level of planning you put into this is scary." Sam unconsciously echoes Doggett’s conversation with his siblings while shaking her head. Mulder just smiles and walks towards the Crash Down. ** Theme song – "Stranded" By Plumb ** Friday 7:20pm, Crash Down Café Liz gives the table a half-hearted swipe with a wet rag and turns to her best friend, Maria. "Another fine Roswell afternoon spent waiting on all the customers." Maria smirks. "Oh wait, there are no customers." Liz says in mock surprise. "I can’t believe that your dad thinks he needs both of us here every day." Maria comments. "The thing of it is, I’m sure he doesn’t think he needs both of us here. I think that this his way of keeping me away from bad influences. Me jailer, you unwitting warden." Liz gripes. "Bad influences being Max Evans?" Maria asks with a knowing look. "Of course. Dad just doesn’t like him. He doesn’t even know that Max is-" "Czechoslovakian." Maria interrupts with a pointed look towards the door. For the first second Liz is puzzled, but then hears the bell jingle, so customers must be coming in. The customers turn out to be two kids, obviously siblings. The older, a boy about their age, looks a lot more eager to be there than the younger girl. Mulder looks around the café with barely disguised mirth, inside it looks exactly how you'd picture a café that has an spaceship sticking out of it to look. As he takes in the space/alien motif he wishes that he had a camera so he could take pictures to show Scully. A young woman wearing a slightly futuristic blue waitress uniform, complete with apron, approaches with menus. "Hi, I'm Liz, let me show you to a table." She tells him. Mulder notices that she has a slight lisp, but it's sort of cute. "Thanks." A couple of minutes later Liz takes their order and goes back to stand with Maria while they wait for the food to cook. Maria nudges her and whispers in her ear. "Kinda cute, huh?" "What about Michael?" Liz whispers back, gratefully noticing that the boy is talking to his sister, and not listening. Maria makes a face. "Yeah, what about Michael? I've been asking myself that for months. I'm not saying I'm looking for someone else, but even if here weren't…" "Czechoslovakian." Liz supplies. "Yeah. I still don't know if it will ever work out between us." She notices the frown on her best friend's face. "You can't blame a girl for looking." Mulder, who has actually been listening, tries not to grin. The other waitress is pretty enough, but it bothers him slightly that she seems to be a racist. "So, have you ever been here before?" He asks Sam in a low voice. She gives him a helpless shrug. "They never let us leave the campus." Mulder gives her a fierce smile. "Then no one will recognize you. Good. But if anyone does, I'll pretend to have no idea that this is where you were, so us being here is merely a coincidence." "I don't doubt you'd come up with a compelling lie." Sam says, sticking her tongue out at him. "Compelling, huh? That’s an awfully big word for a little girl." Mulder says with a smirk. Sam checks to see if the waitresses are looking, then flips him the bird. ** 8:58pm, Pete’s Pockets The crowd begins to break up as the house lights come on. The first performance at Pete’s Pockets ends to hearty applause. Several girls offer the members of Beer Is Not a Sex Crime their phone numbers as they walk by the stage on their way out of the room. Reed just blushes and politely turns them down, but Krycek and Craig welcome the attention with happy grins. Even happier with the band than their new groupies is Pete himself. Though overweight and balding, his smile still manages to be beautiful as he talks to the band. "I want to congratulate you guys on your first show. You were great. The kids loved you." Pete pauses and looks into the other room. All the tables have games in progress, and there are several show-goers who are waiting for tables to be freed up. "If you want to play again in a couple of weeks or a month, just let me know." The boys nod and smile. Reyes grabbed Scully’s hand as soon as the band said good-night. Because she’s smaller than her friend, and didn’t want to put up a huge fight, Scully found herself dragged outside before she knew it. "We can’t leave without her. Even I think that’s too mean." "We’re not going to. We’ll just wait for her out here. We, um, needed some air." Scully doubts the wisdom of this, but it’s a nice warm night, and it’s only been a few minutes. As the crowd thins out, Fowley looks for her friends, a word that she mentally surrounds with quote marks because she’s annoyed, and fails to see them. Zane gives her a look that manages to be equal parts sympathetic and flirtatious at the same time. "Your friends ditch you?" He asks, not mentioning that he saw them run out the door. Fowley shakes her head. "They wouldn’t." Or I’ll kill them, she silently adds. "I’m sure you’re right." Zane agrees as they make their way towards the door. "But if they did leave for some reason, I wouldn’t mind giving you a ride home." Fowley feels a tortured anxiety as she thinks of all the warnings she’s been given by adults over the years. She doesn’t want to offend this nice guy, but… "I really appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I don’t know you well enough to accept a ride from you." She’s afraid to look at him, since she’s sure she’s blown it. To her surprise, he smiles. "Hey, no problem. A girl has to look out for herself, I totally understand that. It can be a dangerous world." She gives him a grateful smile, and finally catches sight of Reyes and Scully. "There you are!" They call, almost sounding like they sincerely thought their separation had been her fault. Before she goes over to them, Zane lightly touches her arm to get her attention. "But maybe someday you’ll know me well enough to accept that ride." All she has time to do is blush before he gives her a brilliant smile and disappears into the night. The color must have left her cheeks by the time she rejoins the now giggling duo, since neither of them tease her about it. ** 9:05 pm Crash Down Café Mulder puts his fork down. "That was great pie." He tells the waitress. It was pecan, his favorite. Liz grins at him. "I’m glad that it didn’t go to waste. There haven’t been many people ordering it today." "Yeah… it does seem a little slow. I like that." Mulder says and she nods. "Can you recommend a good place in town to spend a few nights?" "Is it just you and your sister?" Maria asks, ignoring Liz’s look. Liz always thinks she asks to many questions. "Visiting here? Yeah. Our parents couldn’t come." "But you’re from the east coast, though, right?" Mulder blinks. "Yeah, we are." He hadn’t realized that his accent is so noticeable. All he can do is hope that the girl doesn’t ask him to say drawer to amuse herself. Maria, however, has something other than his voice on her mind. "What are a couple of kids from across the country doing all the way out here?" She winces when Liz pokes her in the ribs. Mulder stares at her for a minute than shrugs. He’ll never see these girls again… "My sister here was kidnapped as a baby, then held in a compound on the outskirts of Roswell, where they've been keeping other kids with odd mental powers, for twelve years. I’m hoping to break in and find any records they have on her so we’ll finally know why." "Mulder!" Sam exclaims. Mulder gives her a look as if to ask what she’s worried about. Maria opens her mouth again to ask more questions, but Liz’s hand shoots out and covers it. "There’s a nice B&B ran by one of my mom’s friends about a half a mile from here. Her rates are pretty reasonable." Mulder thanks her and pays their bill. As soon as he leaves Maria turns to Liz. "Don’t cover my mouth when I’m talking, that’s rude." "And grilling the customers isn’t?" "I wasn’t grilling him, I was getting to know him." Maria corrects. "It’s not like he was telling the truth anyway. They probably ran away from home or something." "Whatever." Liz replies, shaking her head. The boy was probably having them on, more than likely he was, but there was something in the girl’s reaction that made her wonder. It bothers her for the rest of the night. ** 9:30pm Winkin, Blinkin and Nodd Inn When Mulder had seen the sign, he’d wrinkled his nose in distaste. There was something cloying about the name that turned him off to the nth degree. Sam, of course, claimed that it was "cute." Now that they were standing in the lobby, though, Mulder finds that it’s not nearly as scary as he feared. There are no dolls all over, not cutsey framed photos of babies and kittens, and the walls are white, not pastel. "You’ve come at the right time of the year," The proprietor tells them as she leads them down a long corridor. "There’s not much in the way of tourism during the summer. The heat, you know." "It’s not so bad." Mulder replies, lying though his teeth. Sweat is causing his shirt to cling to the back of his neck. The woman nods absently. "Here were are." She swings the door open onto a large room. The room was bright lit and airy, comfortably furnished. Sam immediately claimed the bed nearest the window. Mulder smiles with a small shake of his head. "Are you sure this is the right room? This doesn’t seem like a thirty-five dollar a night room." "As I said, this is the off season. I lower the rates so I get at least some business to keep me company in this place." The woman explains. "Oh, ok." Mulder says, hardly believing their good luck. ** 10:15pm, outside The Crash Down Liz is locking the door to the café when an arm slips around her waist. She doesn’t scream only because she knows who the arm belongs to. "Max." She says, snuggling closer to him. Max grins at her, and she smiles back, thinking for the hundredth time that her fair, dark-haired, hazel-eyed boyfriend would look at home as an elf on the set of the next Lord Of the Rings movie. But, she thought as the arm tightened around her waist, he was a lot stronger than you’d imagine looking at him. "Slow boring night as usual?" He asks, giving her a sympathetic look. He’d spent much of the summer listening patiently as she blew off steam about her unjust "imprisonment" in the café. "Slow, but not without its interesting moments." She says, thinking about the two kids who’d come in. "Oh? What was so interesting?" He asks, looking down at her. She gives him an appealing look. "I’d tell you, but then you’d say no..." "Say no to what?" A feminine voice asks. Liz peers over Max’s shoulder, and sees Max’s sister, and their friend Michael. "Where’s Maria?" Michael asks. Liz frowns. "You missed her by about three minutes. She went home." Michael looks disappointed. "Say no to what?" Isabel repeats. Liz squirms as the other girl’s piercing look locks onto her. They’re not friends, and Liz has the feeling that Isabel only tolerates her for Max’s sake. "Oh. I met two people tonight, kids, and if I didn’t already know you’d say no, I’d ask if you could help them." "Help them do what?" Max asks. "The other one, a guy our age, said that they were here looking for answers. His sister was kidnapped and held somewhere here in Roswell. He wants to know why, and is going to break in to find out." Liz’s face burns; she knows it sounds dumb as she say it. "Oh, if that’s all." Michael says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Liz, even if that story is true, you already know that we can’t just use our powers to help whoever-" Max says, thinking about Liz’s grandmother. To everyone’s surprise, Isabel has something to say in the matter that isn’t as mean as Michael’s comment. "Before we completely dismiss the idea, don’t you think that we should find out if it’s true?" "How would we do that?" Liz asks, her thoughts anxiously conjuring up the idea of the four of them barging into the Inn to interrogate the boy and his sister. "Actually, how would I do that. I think it’s a good night to do some dream walking." Everyone gives their shrugged consent, it couldn’t hurt. ** Midnight, Evans house One of Isabel Evan’s powers is the ability to enter other people’s dreams. She can passively observe their dream, or force herself into it, becoming a character within it. Since Mulder is a complete stranger her plan is just to observe. Though she’s never met Mulder, she doesn’t think that it will be hard to find his dream, since he’s probably the only teenage boy staying at Winkin and Blinkin. When Isabel enters Mulder’s dream, she’s confused. The typical dream for a teenage boy, or at least in her estimation, usually involves the boy winning a girl or doing something to make himself look good. Which is why she’s surprised that the dreamer’s character is wearing footed pjs and standing next to a crib. "Daddy said big brothers look after little sisters." The small boy says, looking into the crib. The baby is tiny and asleep. The boy reaches out to touch the baby, and it disappears. Isabel’s brow creases, since she has no idea what she’s seeing. The little boy lets out a shriek and two people come into the room and led him away. He balks, and cries "my sister, my sister!" and looks back at the crib. The adults just shake their heads and lead him away. Time passes as it does in dreams, skipping from scene to scene, and the little boy tries to show his parents the empty crib. They turn their back on him. He tries to show two other people, a towhead little boy and a small red-haired girl, and they do look. "My sister is gone." He tells them. They shrug and point to their ears. After he repeats himself a couple of times, the blond boy turns his back as well. So the little boy keeps trying to tell the girl, but no matter how many times he says "my sister" she can’t hear him. Tears roll down the little boy’s cheeks. The boy gets older quickly, and spends what seems like years running up and down hallways looking in cribs everywhere for the missing baby. All the cribs he finds are empty. Eventually he looks in a crib and the baby is there. He gives a happy laugh and pulls the baby out of the crib. The baby morphs into the girl Liz told Isabel about. Isabel thinks that the dream will have a happy ending, but she notices that the boy is frowning. The girl has her hands held over her mouth. He approaches the older couple again and tells them, "I’m still worried about my sister." They smile and turn their back on him again. He tells the other boy, whose hair has darkened nearly to brown. The other boy points to his ears and shakes his head. Mulder runs and grabs the hands of the red-haired girl. He tries to tell her too, but she can’t hear him either. She just gives him a kiss as if that will make him feel better. He screams in frustration, then calms down. His sister gives him a curious look. "It’s just you and me." He tells her, and they begin to walk away. Isabel opens her eyes in her own room. She’s not sure what the dream means, but there’s one thing she’s sure of: Mulder isn’t there because of them. The memory of the dreaming boy’s pain echoes in her head she contemplates doing the unthinkable – telling Max and Michael that they should help. ** Saturday, 10:10am, Capeside Mall Reyes and Scully quietly sip their frozen lemonades, which annoys Fowley. Or, to be more accurate, it annoys her that they're staring at her while the do it. They met at the mall twenty minutes earlier, and she's been waiting ever since for the other shoe to drop. Instead of bringing up what's on their minds they're looking at her much the way they'd look at Scully's puppy if he suddenly began speaking English and were hoping to interview it as to how that happened. Finally, she can't take it any more. "Stop it!" They give her innocent looks. "What?" "Stop staring at me the way cats look at mice, right before pouncing on them and snuffing the life out of them." Fowley complains. "I believe she's calling us catty." Reyes grins at Scully. Fowley makes a low sound deep in her throat in way of response. Scully hold up her hands in mock surrender. "Ok, we'll stop playing with you and get to the point. How did you and Zane hit it off?" Fowley looks down at her lemonade and mumbles. "Ok." The other girls giggle. "Ok, huh? Details!" Reyes demands. "There's not a lot to say." Fowley demurs. "She's right, Reyes, there can't be much to tell. I mean, they only hung out for most of the concert, and that wasn't very long." Fowley sticks her tongue out. Though her words are nice enough, Scully's tone is teasing. "Come on, you have to tell us. Match making is no fun if the victim won't dish afterwards." Reyes says with a pout. Fowley smirks. "Pouting may work on your boyfriend and your dad, but it doesn't do a damn thing for me." Scully senses that things might be taking a turn for the worse. "Tell us to butt out." She urges Fowley. "Why?" Fowley asks suspiciously. "Just do it." Scully says, parroting Nike commercials everywhere. Fowley shrugs. "Butt out." "You don't play fair." Reyes gripes at Scully, making Fowley wonder what that was all about. Reyes' face suddenly brightens. "Reed's band was wicked good, don't you think?" "Yeah, he's got a great voice." Scully agrees. "Bet he's going to be disappointing more girls. While Fowley is glad that they've dropped her evening from the conversation, she feels suddenly left out. There's something in the look that passes between the others that tells her that they're laughing at something other than the mere fact that the girls in question would be disappointed by Reed not being straight. As much as people have been trying to include her this summer, nothing can change the fact that she's missed six months worth of in-jokes. ** Noon, Crash Down Café As soon as they come to a stop Max and Michael climb out of the Jeep, intending to go inside for lunch. Although the Parkers have subtly tried to keep Liz away from Max, they haven’t been so bold as to ban the boy from their business. Isabel, on the other hand, is none so subtle. "Wait. I want to talk to you first." She says, still sitting in the back seat of the jeep. Both boys stop and walk back to the jeep. "What about?" Max asks her, not liking the tone he heard in her voice. "I went into that boy’s dream last night, like I said I would." "-What did you find?" "–Is he dangerous?" They speak at the same time, so their words overlap, but Isabel already knew what they’d ask, so it didn’t really matter that she hadn’t heard them clearly. She gestures to them to be quiet. "He’s not dangerous." She tells Michael. "At least not to us. He’s not hear because of anything involving aliens." "So why are they here?" Max asks. "As strange as it sounds, what he told Liz last night is true. His dream was the most painful I’ve ever visited. This kid, a boy our age, spent most of his life trying to figure out what happened to his sister when he was just a little boy himself. Littler than we ever were, even. He got her back, apparently, but he’s still looking for answers. I feel bad for him." Pity fills Isabel’s eyes. "What are you saying, you want to help them?" Max asks. "Max, you know what it’s like to look for answers." Michael argues. At first this surprises Isabel, but then she realizes what it is about this person he empathizes with. Michael, more than any of them, wanted to discover the truth about their origins. So being tortured over missing pieces is something he can relate to. She flashes him a grateful smile. "Of course I do." Max is torn. He does feel for the kid and his quest, but…"We have to be more careful with humans than ever now, if we’re going to stay here and not be detected by others who might cause us harm. If we slip up and someone else does figure us out, they could be like Liz, but they could also be like agent Pierce." He reminds them of the FBI agent who had just recently captured and tortured Max. "I would love to be able to help everyone who could benefit from out powers, but we can’t risk exposing ourselves, and if Liz things they need our help they’d need the type of help that would expose us." He finishes with an air of regret. There’s silence for a moment, then something gleams in Michael’s eyes. "We can help them without exposing ourselves." He says confidently. "How?" Isabel asks. She’d like to be hopeful, but Michael’s ideas are often fool-hardy. Michael grins. "Remember what Liz said after Isabel volunteered to dream walk? His sister was kidnapped, and held with kids who had ‘odd mental powers’." "Yeah, so?" Max asks. "Put yourself in this kid’s shoes for a minute. Some people offer to help you break into a place where they keep kids that are ‘different’ and the people display powers like ours. Which would your first thought be, ‘oooh, aliens’ or ‘oooh kids with strange mental powers’?" "If I already was thinking about kids who had mental powers I’d probably never give aliens a thought." Max admits. "So if we get Liz to convince them that we are like those kids, we can help them and without exposing ourselves. He’d probably be so grateful for the help that he’d never say a word about us to anyone, and even if he did, no one would know it was us he was talking about." Michael says brightly. Max gives him a doubtful look. ** "I was thinking that we ought to do something fun tomorrow, since you girls finally have a day off." Alex is saying as he toys with his coke. Their tall gangly best friend has been campaigning on more togetherness all summer. Liz is listening, but when she sees the aliens troop in, she smiles to herself. Her father isn’t working, so he won’t be there to frown at her. He was still tied up with bringing the receipts to the bank, so only she, Alex and Maria were there. Literally only them, the lunch rush had already passed by since it was a nice day and no one was in the mood to linger over lunch. Stragglers would come in eventually, but for the moment they had the café to themselves. Isabel looks around at the empty tables and says "Good." She pretends not to notice the worshipful glance that Alex is directing her way. It’s not that she minds she just has other things on her mind. "What’s good?" Maria asks. "Not business." She adds melodramatically, since business is just fine and only seems slow when you work entire days instead of a few hours after school. "She means it’s good that there’s no one around because we need to talk to you." Max elaborates. "About what?" Liz asks cautiously. They normally didn’t all end up talking about something all together unless there was a problem. A couple of months back that happened more than any of them would have liked. Max’s cheeks turn a dull red. "Maybe Michael and Isabel should explain, it’s their idea." "You know those kids you told us about? We want to help them." Michael says in his usual abrupt manner. "The two kids who were here last night? They were kidding! They had to be." Maria exclaims while giving them incredulous looks. Isabel shakes her head. "I promised Liz I’d dream walk the older kid, and the stuff that he told you was the truth." "How could there be a secret place holding kids hostage in Roswell without us hearing about it?" Maria asks. "How could there be an abandoned hospital in Roswell that was used to study aliens without us hearing about it?" Max retorts. "Touché." "This is a joke, right? You’re only pretending you want to help so you can laugh at me for being dumb, right?" Liz asks Michael. "Nope. This isn’t like the thing with your diary, I really want to help them. But we need the three of you to do it." "As usual, I’m the only one in the dark." Alex complains. "Last night Maria and I meet a kid and his sister. He claimed that he was here because someone had kidnapped the little girl as a baby, then kept her here for most of her life. Then he said he was going to break into the place to find out what they’d held her for." Liz explains. "Ok, I can see how aliens would be useful in that sort of situation, but what help would us mere human be?" Alex asks, raising an eyebrow. Michael points at Liz and Maria. "You two, since you’ve at least met them, will go and visit them at their room tomorrow night and tell them that you know some people that can help them. Your story is going to be that these people were kids who were born in the place but not raised there. That will explain the strange powers we have without screaming ‘alien’." "How are we supposed to explain your not being raised there?" Maria asks. "I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll come up with something. You’re good at making up stories." He says with a smile, which makes her stick her tongue out at him. "And what is my role in all this supposed to be?" Alex asks. "We don’t know yet, but I’m sure there will be something for you to do." Isabel says with a smile. "Yeah, ok." Alex answers, and she wonders if he even heard what she said. "Remember, you girls go see them tomorrow night. We want to do this thing late Monday night." Max says, not looking very happy about the prospect. ** Sunday 6pm, Winkin, Blinkin and Nodd Inn Mulder is about to eat his last piece of pizza when there is a knock on the door. Sam looks at the door and shrugs, so Mulder gets up and goes to open it. The only person he can think of that would be bothering them is the Inn’s owner, which would indicate that there was a problem, so he’s slightly apprehensive. When he opens the door he sees that it’s not the Innkeeper, it’s the two waitresses from Friday. "Uh, hi." He says, giving them a confused look. "Do you mind if we come in? Ok great." Maria says as they walk in. Mulder shuts the door behind them. Sam looks up from the cartoons she’s watching and gives Mulder another shrug. Clearly she, at least, doesn’t find their visit all that unusual. "So…"Mulder says, hoping to get them to spit out whatever it is that they’re there to say. "So…you know how you told us Friday about your sister?" Maria asks. Sam finally looks interested in their presence. "Well, we have some friends who could help you do that thing." "Break into the place where she was held hostage?" Mulder asks, to make sure they’re on the same page. "Yeah that." Liz agrees. "The thing of it is, though, that they lived there too. Back when they were really little. So they have some ways of helping you that normal people don’t." "Really?" Mulder asks. There’s a happy gleam in his eye. "Really. But they don’t like to talk about it." Maria says. "And, unfortunately, they were really young when they were adopted, so they don’t remember the place. They just know that’s where they were from." Maria says, hoping that he’ll buy it. Mulder nods like the story is plausible. "Look, I’m glad for the help, so I’m not going to ask questions that would make these friends of your uncomfortable. I don’t need to know anything about them if they don’t want me to. " Maria feels better. "Great. They said that they want to meet us back at the café tomorrow night at 10pm, which is when Liz and I get off work." "Ok, see you then. Thanks a lot." Mulder smiles as they leave and picks up his slice of pizza. It’s a little cold, but he doesn’t mind. Once they’re gone Sam gives Mulder a reproachful look. "Do you really think it’s a good idea to trust some people who don’t want to talk about who they are?" "Well, I trust you, don’t I?" Mulder laughs as Sam gives him a dirty look. "At this point I don’t care who we have to go to as long as they’re willing to help find the truth. They could be six foot tall chickens or little gray men for all I care." He says, having no idea how close to the mark his statement is. ** Monday 10:30 pm, ‘Candling School’ When they arrive at the school they pile out of Maria’s car and Max’s jeep. To their astonishment finding the place had been as simple as checking the local phone book for the address. The only reason that it took them 30 minutes after the crash down closed was that Michael insisted that he and Sam would need to alter their appearances first. It made sense to Maria that he’d wanted to stick thick glasses on Sam, and put her hair into a different style, since she was the only one who was likely to be recognized, but he told her that there wasn’t time to explain why he wanted Isabel to darken his hair. Max had worried that the place where the girl had grown up would be like the abandoned hospital that Agent Pierce had brought him to, and tortured him in. But the place is, from all outward appearances, a school as it claims to be; hiding in the light. It’s a large modern two story building, a lot of white stucco and glass. The building, far from wanting to appear empty and foreboding, seems welcoming. Mulder notices a metallic sign hangs above the front door and declares the building to be "Candling School for Exceptional Children." He’s stuck by the fact that the word exceptional is used to identify children from both ends of the intelligence spectrum, but Liz interrupts with an observation of her own. "Mulder, is your Dad’s company called Candling, too?" "Yeah, why?" "Do you know what candling means?" She asks, thinking about her biology classes. "I thought it was just a last name." Mulder whispers, giving her a questioning look. Liz shakes her head. "No, it’s a farming term. A long time ago farmers discovered that they could find out if an egg was fertilized or not by holding it up to a candle. They used candling to separate the eggs that would become chicks from those that would be food." "Wow. I guess my time at farms would have been better spent listening to lectures than hiding from ducks." Mulder mumbles. "What?" Liz asks, not sure she heard him correctly. Mulder just blushes and refuses to repeat himself. Max hisses at them to be quite, and they follow him to a locked side entrance. The lights are all off, so they don’t think that they’re likely to be spotted immediately if they use that door. Mulder is about to ask how they’re going to unlock the door when Max places his hand over the locking mechanism. For a second Mulder thinks that he sees a faint glowing coming from under the other boy’s hand, but it’s gone so quickly he’s not sure if he saw that, or perhaps a firefly was sitting by the lock. Max grabs the doorknob and opens the door. They all fill in after him. "You said the records room is on the second floor, but where’s the front desk?" Michael whispers to Sam. She points down a darkened hallway. He nods. "Ok, Liz, Alex, Maria, you come with me. We’re going to provide a diversion." The four of them make their way quickly down the hall, then group themselves in front of the desk when the receptionist isn’t looking. "Excuse me." Michael interrupts her politely. The woman is startled and blinks. "Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. What can I do for you?" "We’re here to see out friend Jason. His mom says his room is on the second floor." Michael lies smoothly. Jason is a common name, so he’s sure that there’s at least one boy there with that name. "Oh…"she glances at the clock. "It’s awfully late. We don’t usually allow visitors after 7pm." Alex and the girls make distressed noises. "His mother didn’t tell us that, and it’s taken us all day to get here…"Michael gives her a hang-dog look. The woman looks at the four unhappy teenagers, and feels bad. "Well, I can see what I can do…"she picks up a walkie-talkie and calls security. "I know it’s late, but Jason has some visitors who have traveled all day to see him…"she listens to the garbled response. "Two boys and two girls… the boys and one of the girls have dark hair, and one of the girls is a blond." She says, studying them. She doesn’t notice that Maria’s eyes widened when she realized why Michael had been concerned about his hair. "All right." She smiles and looks at them. "He’s doing rounds on another floor right now, but if you go to the top of those stairs "she points. "and wait in the waiting room on the far right, he’ll meet you in about 15 minutes so you can have a short visit with your friend." "Thank you so much." Michael says, giving her a charming smile, which the receptionist returns. The four of them promptly go up the stairs, run down a hallway, find more stairs, and exit the door they came in through. Once they’re back outside Michael plucks a walkie-talkie of his own out of his pocket. "You’ve got 15 minutes before you’re going to meet a guard in the second-floor lounge to visit your friend ‘Jason’." He tells Max, who thanks him. "Well, all we can do now is wait and hope for the best." Michael tells the others as they walk towards the vehicles. ** "You heard that." Max says quietly, as he, Isabel and Mulder follow Sam. "It’s right around here…"Sam says nervously, as they pass closed doors. "Here it is." Mulder looks away while Max deal with the lock, not wanting to be tempted to ask questions. After a few seconds they find themselves in room filled with file cabinets. Fortunately they’re labeled so they find the one containing files on children very quickly. Mulder rifles through the file cabinet and grabs the files that say "Mulder" on the corner, going back a bit he grabs another as well, this one with "Morgan" on it. He’s about to shut it when Sam grabs his hand. "Wait a second." She whispers. Mulder shrugs and steps back. Sam pulls our another folder and lays it on the pile he’s holding. He glances down at it. "Archer?" "Zane." Sam whispers, as if that explains everything. "We’re going to talk about that later." Mulder whispers harshly. He glances around the room with a distressed expression. "I have to find a way to copy these before we get caught." Isabel rolls her eyes and grabs the folders out of his hands. "I’ll do it." She sets them on a desk and waves her hand above the pile. An identical pile of folders forms next to them. Mulder gaps at her, then thumbs through the first folder in each pile. "They’re exactly the same." He says in wonder, as he stuff them into a backpack that is identical to the one Alex brought in the building with him. "Of course they are." Isabel says, picking up the duplicates and stuffing them in the file cabinet. "Let’s get out of here and find that lounge." ** The guard looks at the four people sitting quietly in the lounge. Two boys, both with dark hair, a girl with dark hair, and a blond girl, just like the receptionist said. "Sorry about the wait." He apologizes. "We’re just grateful that we can see Jason despite the late hour." Max grins. "Ok, you can say hi to your friend, and I’ll wait to escort you out." The guard tells them. "Thanks!" They exclaim, wondering how poor Jason is going to take their arrival. They pass by several rooms with children in them. Most of the windows show sleeping children, but Mulder’s pace slows as he passes one room. A small boy is sitting on a bed, playing with toy airplanes. The planes, which look like typical models, probably put together by some well-meaning adult, zip through the air as the child laughs. Mulder is stuck by the fact that the child is no older than Scully’s nephew is. Eventually they reach the room that belongs to unsuspecting Jason. "Five minutes." The guard tells them. They nod and go in. Jason is about 15 years old, and sound asleep, which comes to a relief to them since nothing they’d thought of to tell the boy sounded even half-way intelligent. After five minutes they leave the boy’s room, and thank the guard and the receptionist for letting them visit with their "friend." ** 11:30pm Crashdown café Mulder clutches the bag full of folders and doesn’t know what to say. "I…I can’t believe you would… Thank you." He says with his eyes full of gratitude. The three humans and three aliens smile at him. "Hey, it’s not as though we had anything better planned for tonight." Alex quips. "Yeah, we don’t get to do enough breaking and entering." Michael adds. "How long are you going to be here?" Isabel asks once the boys stop cracking wise. "Um…I think we’ll be leaving Thursday, so we’ll be home before our parents." Mulder replies. Isabel studies him for a moment. "I can’t read minds or predict the future, but I have a feeling that this won’t be the last time we see you. If you find after you read those files that you need to go back there for more information, I’m game." "Me too." Michael says. Max pauses, and also agrees. "Thank you, but why?" Mulder asks, bewildered. Isabel looks at Sam. "It’s important to know where you come from so you can figure out where you’re going." Mulder wants to know what she means by that, but he promised to ask no questions. Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Tricky & PJ Harvey ("Broken Homes") Seafood ("Cloaking") and Taproot ( "Poem") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 27 Roswell Revelations Summary: Before leaving Roswell, New Mexico, Mulder learns several secrets about his family and others who have been affected by Candling. Opening scene "All set." Sam declares as she steps back into the room in her night clothes. Mulder, who has been patiently waiting to use the bathroom wonders if she’d taken the time to brush her hair while in there to torment him for some obscure reason. The innocent look she gives him as he passes by her makes him reconsider that. Maybe she’s just being a young girl after all. Once he’s washed up and changed for bed he asks Sam about the folder she gave him earlier that night. "How do you know Zane?" Paranoia spills into his voice. "Is he working for them?" Sam shakes her head. "He doesn’t work for them. They made him." "What do you mean, they made him?" Mulder gives her a bewildered look. "Some kids go to Candling because it’s a school, just like it’s pretending, which is why they let us in tonight. Those kids have a parent or parents who work there, mostly. Normal kids like me, you know?" "Was Zane’s Mom or Dad a teacher?" Mulder interrupts. "No. There are two other types of kids too. Kids who are different, and kids who were supposed to be different but aren’t. Zane is one of the second kind." Sam explains. "How do you know he’s the second kind?" Mulder presses. "Because they let him leave when he grew up." Sam answers quietly. "I don’t know why, I just know that’s what happens." She adds, giving him an exasperated look. Mulder finds the statement spooky, but lets it go temporarily. "Does he know that you can talk?" "Probably not, or if he does he probably thinks I stopped for some reason. I was only five or so when he stopped talking to me at school." "Why?" "I…He didn’t leave for a while after that, so it wasn’t because he left. I can’t remember why he stopped talking to me." She says, looking upset. ** Theme song – "Stranded" By Plumb ** Midnight, Tuesday, Winkin, Blinkin and Nodd Inn Sam slips into a blue funk that Mulder can’t seem to jolly her out of, so he gives up and thumbs through the pile of folders . Zane Archer, Spender Morgan, Samantha Leary, Price Leary, Mulder Leary. Mulder Leary? "What the hell?" Mulder asks aloud. "What?" Sam asks, looking over at him. "One of these folders is on me." Mulder tells her. "So?" Sam asks. "So there shouldn’t be anything on me. I was never here or anything." Mulder says, shaking his head in bewilderment. "So read it." Sam says, going back to her book. Mulder frowns, wondering how she could have so little curiosity about his folder. It is thin compared to the ones on either of his siblings, which is why he hadn’t noticed it earlier. He feels that he should look through the other folders first, but a burning desire to know what is in own grips him, and it proves too irresistible. There’s only one piece of paper which he pulls out and begins to read: +++ General Public Testing Report 7-20-89 Subject Leary, a bright and active four-year-old boy, approaches the tests with a lively curiosity. The subject shows very little ability in the form of precognition, and his correct responses may well be chalked up to chance… +++ Mulder puts down the paper, because a memory is swimming back to his consciousness. His father picks him up from daycare, and gives him an ice cream cone. He explains that instead of going right home, they’re going to go back to where he works. Mulder wonders if Daddy has forgotten something at work, but Mr. Leary says no. They’re going to go see someone that he works with. When Mulder asks why, he’s told that they’re going to play some games. Since he’s only four, this doesn’t sound strange to him. His father’s coworker turns out to be an older woman who reminds Mulder of the librarian in the children’s section. He’s shy, but she offers to let him sit in a wheeled chair just like hers, and that breaks the ice. Mulder spends a couple of minutes playing with the chair, and she patiently waits for him to be settled. Once he’s ready to pay attention, she shows him a laminated poster the size of a placemat covered in strange symbols. Some look like balls, others like squiggles or stars. She shows him deck of cards that has the same symbols on them. She shuffles through the cards and tells him "I’m going pick up a card and not show you, ok? I want you to try to guess which card I’m holding. You think about it then point on the poster at which one you think I’m holding." Mulder laughs, and decides that it’s a fun game. She holds up cards, and he points to symbols. She tells him that he’s doing a good job, and writes some things he can’t read down on a piece of paper. When they’re all done she gives him a sticker book and tells him that he was a good helper. He leaves with his father and buries the seemingly insignificant memory for the next thirteen years. Suddenly afraid to learn anything else, Mulder pushes aside the folders. He tells Sam that he’s tired, so she tells him good-night and turns on her book-light instead. Mulder finds it slightly odd that she doesn’t ask him about what he was reading, but soon falls asleep. ** Tuesday 9am, Winkin, Blinkin and Nodd Inn The next morning Mulder plans to methodically go through the rest of the folders. The first one he picks up is the Spender Morgan folder. It contains stuff that makes him even sadder for the dead boy. +++ September 20th, 1989 Status Report: Martin Rebecca Martin has quit her position at Candling. She had previously been informed that if she took this action, or threatened any legal action, her son would not be returned to her. Apparently this does not bother her, as she and her husband have sold their home in Maine and can not be located. Her defection is an unpleasant blow to the project. We had hoped that we would be able to get her to relent, as we have in all but one other case after taking extreme measures, but it seems that we will have to continue without her genetic contribution to the project. This is rather unfortunate, as she is one of the employees with the highest scores we’ve recorded thus far. Arrangements will be made for the boy. December 29th, 1989 Status Report: Morgan Subject Morgan is making progress. He responds to being called Spender, and no longer insists that his name is Scott. When asked he will report that his full name is Spender Ryan Morgan, and that the Morgans are his parents. The Morgans have been flying out every other weekend to get to know young Spender. Once the boy is fully acclimated to his new identify, we will be sending him home with the Morgans. The Morgans have long been loyal to Candling, and it is for this reason that we have felt that they will make an appropriate family for the boy. We offered them the choice of the two remaining wards, and it came to as surprise that they chose the boy, who is older. Apparently they’ve always wanted a son, so his age was not an issue when they made their decision. It’s just as well, since we might yet get an agreement out of the other child’s parents. +++ Mulder puts the report aside, suddenly sure that "the other ward" is Sam. His head reels as he thinks about the fact that his sister might have once been offered to other people. It is only the whim of the Morgans that prevented his sister to grow up in Capeside. It scares him to think that she might have been that close her whole life, but would have been just as lost. ** Mulder next reaches for Zane’s folder, wondering how Sam’s speech therapist fits into this puzzle. It surprises him a little that the papers on Zane started many years before Sam was even born +++ Subject Report: Archer November 15th, 1979 Subject Archer is a healthy three-month-old infant. While he does seem unusually bright, as of yet he is not showing any signs of talent. However, since he is one of our first subjects, it’s hard to gage when we should expect to see these things emerge. We will continue to closely monitor him. Subject Report: Archer September 30th, 1985 Subject Archer is settling into the first grade quite nicely. In retrospect it seems to have been a very good idea to keep our subjects at the facility for their education as well as observation and living arrangements. Archer’s class is the second class of first graders. Troubling is the fact that Archer, along with approximately one third of his age-mates, still shows no signs of talent. It has been concluded that in addition to producing many desirable subjects there were several nulls born as well. The current plan for nulls is to continue to keep them at the facility in hopes that they will eventually show latent abilities. Those that never show any talent at all will be allowed to leave the facility at age eighteen after signing non-disclosure agreement. We believe that this will not lead to disaster, because being raised with the more desirable subjects should instill a proper respect for the puissance of our wish to keep the program private, and allow them to understand the likely consequences of breaking their agreements. +++ Mulder flips through several more reports that lament Zane’s lack of "talent" and remark on his exemplary behavior and grades. He turns to the last report and reads it fully instead of skimming it. ++++ Null Report: Archer 8-15-97 Subject Archer has been explained the non-disclosure policy, and seems rather unlikely to break it. The set back he experienced a while back seems to be very present in his mind, and the consequences of that seem to impress upon him the seriousness of our expectation that he not do anything to jeopardize the project. Thus far we’ve released seven nulls, and have no problems from them. We expect that Archer will continue this pleasant streak of problem-free releases. Other than seeming slightly morose about the conversation regarding the non-disclosure, he seems to be in high spirits today, his eighteenth birthday. Although he is now free to go, he has chosen to remain here for the next six days, as he gets ready to start his Freshman year at the university of Connecticut. The fact that he is lingering leads the staff psychologist (the one hired for nulls) to believe that he harbors no ill will towards the facility, and that he will continue to be well adjusted when he leaves us. ++++ Mulder wonders for a moment what sort of "set back with consequences" would be powerful enough to frighten someone into never speaking about how they were raised or why. And why is he being referred to as a null, a nothing? "Sam, would you mind if I take a walk? I need to clear my head a little." Sam looks at him and sees the tension etched across his face. "Sure, go ahead. I’m a big girl, you don’t have to worry constantly about me." She tries to sound bright and cheerful, but Mulder still looks troubled as he leaves the room. ** Mulder returns to the room with a large paper bag tucked under one arm. Sam gives him a tentative smile. "I thought you were taking a walk." "I did, and it’s the strangest thing, I found this bag." Mulder says with a grin. "What’s in it?" Sam asks, pleased to see him looking happier. "I don’t know, I didn’t look." He waits to see if she’ll play along, then makes a show out of opening the bag. Peering inside, his eyes widen, then he reaches inside. "Looks like a pint of Ben and Jerry’s chocolate ice cream..." he puts that on the desk, and reaches into the bag with both hands. "It seems to be…yes, it’s a chocolate cake with white frosting!" He exclaims, putting it with the ice cream." Oh, look there's also plates and forks, how thoughtful of someone." Sam smiles at him. He rattles the bag. "I think there’s still something in here, why don’t you see what it is?" Sam takes the bag from him and pulls out a package that manages to be long, flat, and lumpy all at the same time. "Looks like a present." She comments. "Maybe we should bring it to the local police and turn it in. We wouldn’t want to deprive someone of a gift." He peers down through the plastic cover of the cake. "Although, whoever it belongs to seems to be named Sam, too." "Mulder!" Sam exclaims, tiring of the game. "Oh, all right, maybe you should open it." Sam strips off the wrapping paper, and two things spill out of the package: a book and a cardboard and plastic container. "Oh my gosh, thank you!" she squeals, throwing her arms around Mulder’s neck. "Watch the cake." He teases. "You really like your present?" "Yes, of course. I’ve wanted this book about Batman for practically ever, but since I couldn’t tell Mom and Dad… and I really like the Spiderman action figure too." "I’m glad." Mulder says, pleased that there was a comic book store nearby since he hadn’t had the chance to shop before they left home. "I have something else for you too…"he adds shyly. Sam gives him an expectant look while he rummages through the backpack. He yanks out a yellow paper bag and hands it to her. Sam can’t quite figure out what it is until she spills the bag’s contents onto her bed. Several envelopes land on the spread. She gives Mulder a questioning look. He looks embarrassed, but pleased. "I couldn’t get the first one until I was seven, since I didn’t have any money to spend when I was younger than that, but there’s one there for every birthday from your third on." Sam looks shocked. "You bought me birthday cards?" "Mom and Dad pretended your birthdays were just normal days, but… I kept buying them, hoping that I’d be able to give them to you some day. So you would know that I knew you would come back to us some day." "Mulder, I don’t know what to say…"She picked up the cards, and tried to decide which one to open first. ** It’s not until the picture falls onto the bed that Mulder realizes that it came with him, stuck between two of the cards. Sam’s hand reaches out and picks it up. "What’s this?" she asks before she really looks at it. "I think it’s you." Mulder tells her, remembering the trip he and Scully took to Mystic Connecticut the November before. "It was taken near home, though, so I can’t figure it out how that could be if they kept you here your whole life. Sam’s eyes widen as she looks at the small faded photograph. "I remember this. Oh my God, Mulder. Zane!" Mulder gives her a concerned look. "What about Zane?" "Give me a minute and I’ll tell you, ok?" Sam says breathlessly. After a moment she’s gathered her thoughts. "Remember how you told me that you finally remembered what happened to me? While we were at the movies?" "Of course." He says thinking of the more recent occurrence of that as well. "Well, now I know what you meant about something rushing back to you. I did leave here once, but I forgot about it." Sam says, her brow wrinkling as tries to figure out how to explain what has come back to her. "Zane took you somewhere?" Mulder asks gently. He wants to understand, but doesn’t want to push her. Sam takes a deep shuddery breath. "Someone, this older man, started watching me. I was probably four or five, pretty little, you know? He asked me questions, and was nice to me. Told me jokes and stuff. He talked to Zane a lot too, I saw them together sometimes. I think Zane was your age then, not quite grown up, but a lot older than me. Some times the man would point me out to Zane, and if I noticed, I waved." When Sam pauses for breath it is all Mulder can do to keep from asking questions. Since he doesn’t want to break her concentration he behaves himself. Sam’s hands kneed the blanket, but he doesn’t think she realizes what she’s doing. "One night I woke up and realized that there was someone standing over my bed. It was Zane. He put his finger to his lip, then lead me out of the room. Our friend was waiting for us, and we quickly left the building. I didn’t really know what was going on, but I trusted them, so I went with them without a second thought." Sam looks over to make sure he’s listening. He nods. "We went on a plane. I was sleepy, but I sort of listened to them. The man was supposed to be taking Zane to Boston to look at a college. Maybe for a summer program? It’s hard to remember their conversation since I didn’t really understand it, but I guess they were letting Zane go because he turned out not to be special. Anyway, he had permission to take Zane away, but not me. He wasn’t allowed to go where the little kids were, but since Zane was a kid too he was allowed to go wherever he wanted without people bothering him, so that’s why he got me. I fell asleep after that." "So the man took you away when he wasn’t supposed to." "Apparently. When I woke up they got a car and we drove to these little cabins. I was confused since I thought that we going to a school for Zane, and there were no schools there." "Just a bunch of little log cabins." Mulder commented. "Yup. The man said that we were going to go to Zane’s school a little later on, but first we were going to meet some people. Mulder, I think he meant Mom and Dad." Sam says, giving him sad look. "What makes you say that?" Mulder asks. His heart squeezes in his chest. All he can think of is what could have been if his family had gotten her back eight or nine years earlier than they had. "He made a phone call and sounded really happy. I got bored and decided to play outside. Zane said we could do something neat to the trees." "Zane helped you carve your initials into the tree." Mulder interjects. Sam gives him a startled look. "Exactly. When we got back inside it was about an hour later, and he wasn’t alone. At first I thought that maybe it was the people we were supposed to be, but our friend was arguing with them. One of them hit him. That made me cry. He said that they couldn’t take me, but one of them picked me up and put me in the car. They told me to be quiet, they wouldn’t hurt him. Eventually there was another plane, and before I knew it we were back here." Mulder was almost afraid to ask, "What happened to this friend of yours?" "I don’t know, and I’m afraid to think about it. I never saw him again. I don’t think Zane got in trouble, though, since I saw him a few times before he left. He pretended not to know me anymore, though, so I learned not to wave. That's what I couldn't remember last night." Mulder decides to change the subject. "We should probably eat this before the ice cream melts. Sam nods, also happy to be able to focus on more pleasant things. ** 2pm, Reel Deals Doggett attempts to put the stickers with the store's new name on them on the videos and DVDs , while being followed around, and asked questions. "What’s this one about?" A video is waved near his eyes. "Um… It’s about a pair of roommates that make a vow that they’ll kill themselves if the don’t find true love by their 30th birthdays." "That’s so romantic…what’s this one about?" "A girl gets her neighbor to pose as her boyfriend so they can make his ex and the guy who rejected her jealous." "I like the sound of that… and this one?" Doggett sighs. "It’s a story that follows the love lives of four couples. An older couple who is thinking of breaking up, one having an affair, a woman who is reluctant to get involved with a nice guy, and a young couple who are held apart by his personal problems." "Oh! And this one?" "A remake of The Taming Of The Shrew, set in a high school." Doggett gently pushes the video away from his face. "Sweetie, I know you could read the backs of the boxes as easily as have me give summaries, so I have a feeling that you’re trying to make a point here somehow." Reyes bats her lashes at him. "Am I that obvious?" "I’d like to say yes, but I’m not sure that I understand what the point is. You want to break up or commit suicide?" "No!" She gives him an exasperated look. "They’re romantic comedies, and I want to spend time watching them with you. Get it now?" "I wish I didn’t." Doggett says with a wry grin. "You watch the icky romantic movies tonight, and I’ll go with you to the racetrack this weekend. We can watch the cars varooommm around the muddy track. What do you say?" "You drive a hard bargain, but deal." Doggett doesn’t tell her that he would have watched movies with her for nothing more in exchange than the chance to spend time with her. ** * In order: If Lucy Fell, Drive Me Crazy, Playing by Heart, 10 Things I Hate About You 5pm Winkin, Blinkin and Nodd Inn Mulder saved the most painful folders for last. He glances over at Sam, who is engrossed in her new book, and then reaches out for her folder. He wants her to be able to read it as well, but a protective instinct tells him that he ought to preview the contents first…to see how devastating they will likely be to her. Unlike the other folders, most of the documents on Sam seem to be in a more casual, narrative form. An unknown author addresses an unknown audience. +++ May 2nd, 1989 First, it’s unfortunate that Leary’s wife became pregnant with their second child before the couple could be recruited for our new project. However, since the child is due in a matter of only two months, we hope to include them by December. Their child will be four months old at such a time, so another pregnancy at that point would not be completely unreasonable from a physiological standpoint. However, the wife is hysterically opposed to participating. At first we thought it was the thought of having two babies so close in age, which is understandable. In an effort to address that we offered to hire a nanny to care for both babies, confident that this would conquer her reservations. That was not to be the case. We then tried to convince her that we would be allowing her and her husband to raise the child we wished her to have, but this too turned out not to be the source of the problem. At this point it’s unclear if someone said something to her to scare her, or if she’s merely the victim of her own over-active imagination, but she’s afraid. Some how she’s become convinced that the prescient project babies are monsters. So far, we have not been able to change her mind, despite our assurances that all our babies have been perfect. We have gone so far as to show her two of the non-resident babies who live in her area, but she simply accused us of showing her different babies. Since the Learys are not unique in their refusal, it’s all the more troubling. It’d beginning to seem that the drastic measures that were suggested at the last meeting may become regrettably necessary for the project to continue, after all. August 30th,1989 We have procured baby Leary as our hostage, as planned. However, things did not go as smoothly as hoped. Traumatizing the hostage’s four-year-old brother had not been part of the plan, for example. Our associates explained that his waking up made their actions necessary, but it doesn’t excuse them. It’s unfortunate that things happened the way they did, since the staff member who met him said that he’s a likable little chap, if not a suitable hostage. It was in fact, the report of their meeting that lead us to chose the baby instead; even at his young age he is resilient and beginning to become self-reliant. We felt that his parents would worry less about him because of the strength of his young character. Back on the subject of the hostage…like most two-week-old babies, she is indifferent to her caretakers and surroundings as long as her needs are being met, which they are. This in fact, makes her a perfect hostage from our point of view, as it terrifies her parents without harming her in the least. Let me stress that it is not our aim to make this child suffer. She’s our pawn, our tool to get her parents to cooperate. We plan to let them worry about her for a while before revealing our demands +++ Mulder feels a moment of self-hatred when he realizes how relieved he is that their taking Sam really wasn't about anything that he could have done differently. Even if he'd done better at the "test" they still wouldn't pick him. The guilt that he'd felt since learning about Spender's abduction fell away, but he couldn't stop feeling angry at himself for feeling better. Sam didn't get to feel better, so why should he? ** +++ November 27th, 1993 Doctor Ascot has been dealt with, and subject Archer will no longer be able to speak to Samantha as a consequence of the part he played in the fiasco. We don’t believe that the boy presents any danger to her, and we realize that he was an impressionable youth following the directives of a man he greatly admired, but their separation is for Samantha’s sake. She was quite traumatized by the incident, and a continued association with Archer is likely to reinforce the unpleasant memory. Given her tender years she may well forget it if there are no reminders. We believe that Ascot may have photographed the girl, but we were unable to find a camera. September 8th, 1994 Setbacks… Samantha is growing into a lovely child, and is now attending kindergarten with the nulls and the staff’s children who are schooled here. She’s a favorite among the staff and other children, but she’s shy and quiet despite our attempts to socialize her. It’s slightly worrisome, since she’d been much more out going as a toddler and preschooler. We had hoped that we would be returning her to her family soon, since the Learys finally agreed to participate in the project. Unfortunately, the first attempt was a failure, and Mrs. Leary miscarried at six weeks. They do not seem eager to try again. The current plan in place for Samantha is to continue to school her here and release her at age eighteen, if her parents do not produce a child for us. It’s unfortunate, but as nice a child as she is, she must continue to serve as an example of what results if we are defied. July 23rd, 2001 To everyone’s surprise, the Learys came to us and asked if they could try again. We assume that the tick of their biological clocks is what propelled this startling decision, but we did not ask why they waited seven years, instead only expressed our pleasure at their acquiescence. May 10th, 2002 Plans are to release Samantha to her parents care within the next few hours. We received a call early this morning to inform us that Mrs. Leary was in the early stages of labor. The baby, a boy, is expected to be delivered some time today. One of the staff will be accompanying Samantha on the plane and bringing her to the hospital where she will be reunited with her parents. The staff member will await confirmation of the birth before explaining to her the purpose of the trip. We expect her to docilely follow the orders from adults, as it is her nature. +++ Mulder sighs as he puts his sister’s file aside. All of it had really been to hurt their parents after all. A child was subjected to over twelve and a half years of separation from her family just so people with power could prove some sort of a point and bend someone’s will. It makes him incredibly sad for his sister. He can’t understand how the person who wrote the files could have convinced his or herself that what they’d done had not harmed Sam. It had hurt her immensely. However, the startling revelation that his mother had had a miscarriage instantly makes sense to him. *He’d have been nine at the time, which is when his parents had their last argument about Sam. The one that preceded his mother tearfully purging the house of all reminders of Sam, which Mulder later rescued from the trash. His mother’s accusations that his dad didn’t care about Sam, and his father’s insistence that they move on now had a context. The argument must have been about whether or not they should try again after the miscarriage. He too wonders why they took seven years to change their minds. * refers to events recounted in episode 1x04 ** Mulder’s hands tremble as he reaches for Price’s folder. It was hard enough to read about the pawn, what fresh horror would be recounted about the prize? The first few reports in Price’s folder are more about their mother than the baby himself. They report that the IFV procedure was successful, and that the pregnancy was normal and relatively easy considering Mrs. Leary’s age. It’s not until the tenth of May that the reports begin to be about Price-the-person rather than Price-the-unborn-fetus. +++ Subject Report: Leary May 10th, 2002 Male 8lbs, 4oz 21 inches in length Apagar: 9 (five minutes) Dark brown hair/blue eyes His parents have chosen to call him Price Willem Leary. Biweekly exams with parents have been scheduled. +++ Mulder skims the first two reports, half eager and half scared to read the one from Price’s sixth week. +++ Subject Report: Leary June 17th, 2002 Mother has reported that Price has shown his first sign of talent. This is slightly precocious as most babies don’t begin to show signs until 3-4 months old, but he is within the normal range. We hastened to assured his parents that babies and toddlers tend to only show sporadic bursts of talent, and an early sign such as this isn’t normally an indicator that they will need to worry more than usual about him endangering himself. The talent that was reported is among the rarer ones that prescient project children typically possess, so it should be interesting to see how strongly it develops. However, controlling non-human creatures’ behaviors is not something we have a practical application for at the moment. If Price’s contemporaries begin showing this more frequently, there are uses that could probably be found for it. +++ Useful for what? Mulder worries. The only things the report confirms are that Price’s play with the butterflies had a significance, and that he was not the only one to notice it. He wonders if his parents will eventually ask for help documenting "signs of talent" and hopes for once to be left out of things. He picks up the file again, hoping that one of the remaining reports will shed light on what Candling’s interest in his brother is. +++ Subject Report: Leary July 22nd, 2002 Price is not showing any additional signs of talent, which is not atypical. His mother, however, seems pleased about this, and there is some concern that she believes that her son is ordinary. The truth is that none of the prescient project children is ordinary. They are more human than human. This, however, is not very reassuring to a mother, as we understand. We have tried to impress upon her that we stand by our promise not to interfere with her family’s upbringing of young Price, and that we never remove non-resident children from their families: only children born of surrogates are expected to be schooled by Candling, and we will be only as intrusive as requiring bi-weekly exams throughout his childhood. None of this soothes her fears. We are thinking about starting a parents’ group, including the other parents of non-resident project children in the area, so that she and a couple other wary parents can benefit from those parents who are more resigned to the parts that their children will one day play in the grand scheme of things. +++ That’s all there is. Just a few reports faxed from home, and not a single additional scrap of information about this prescient project or their plans for the sweet helpless infant who isn't even old enough to sit up on his own yet. Mulder groans, he needs more information. Fortunately, he thinks he can get some help on the matter. ** After Mulder finishes reading the files he turns to his sister. Sam is still reading her birthday present, and toying with a second piece of cake. She looks so happy that Mulder feels bad about disturbing her, but disturb her he must. "Sam, I'm done with the files. You should read them now." "I don't want to." Sam replies, hardly glancing up. "Well, I guess it can wait a little while if you're at a good part of the book, but-" "I meant I don't want to read them at all." She interrupts. "There's some really important, and upsetting, stuff in there about you and Price." Mulder tells her, beginning to get upset. "You can't make me read them." She challenges with a smirk. "You're right about that, but I don’t understand why you’re so indifferent to all of this." Mulder spits out. Sam’s eyes are luminous with anger and sorrow. "I’m not indifferent to any of this." "Then why don’t you care about the truth? We both wanted to know." She shakes her head hard. "That’s not so. You assumed. You never asked my opinion. Never. Not once. Finding the truth is your all consuming passion not mine." Mulder throws up his hands in exasperation. "How could you not want to know the truth?" To his horror, Sam’s eyes fill with tears. Most boys would have made their sisters cry at a much younger age, but he’s not most boys. His heart feels like it’s bleeding when the tears spill down her cheeks. "To you, to you the truth is a thing." Sam sobs. "Something interesting, to be learned about, like science or math. It’s. My. Life. Don’t you get it? The truth you’re looking for is my life. I had to live it. I don’t want to remember it, remembering is confusing and it hurts. I don’t want the truth enough to hurt, I want to forget and be a normal girl, with a normal family, but you won’t let me." Feeling like he’s the most retched person on Earth, he starts to reach for her, to offer her comfort, but he stops himself. "Sam…I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you. But I can’t promise that I won’t do it again. If it was just you it would be different, but I love our brother as well." He says gently. "I know you love him too." Sam nods and the movement of her head splatters some of her tears across her cheeks. "Of course I do." Tears sting in Mulder’s eyes too. "Because we love him, and want the best for him, I need to find out more. I wish I didn’t have to, but those reports, they make me think that Price needs us to protect him, and we can’t do that if we don’t know everything. I can’t let them hurt another baby. I just can’t." He finishes brokenly. Sam scoots closer, to him, and nods resignedly. "But it’s not your fault. Nothing that happened to me is your fault." "Whether it is or not is something we could go back and forth on all day, kiddo. What if you don’t go back? I’ll need to tell you what I learn, but what if you don’t go back to Candling with me? Maybe you could stay back at the café and talk to one of the girls." Sam leans up against her brother and puts her arm around his waist. "I could deal with that." She whispers. Mulder nods and looks at his little sister. He knows he’s asking so much of a thirteen-year-old, so much…"You’re a good person, Sam. A good sister." Neither of them say anything else, and they sit together for a long time, waiting for their tears to dry and the fear and funeral atmosphere to leak out of the room. ** 10:05 pm, Crash Down Café Liz flips the sign in the window from open to closed. Maria looks up from re-filling a napkin holder and asks her best friend, "Do you think we'll see those kids again? Liz shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know. They're not from around here, and they're supposed to be going home Thursday, so if we do it'd have to be soon." "Maybe it's just the wishful thinking talking, but I don't think that we've seen the last of them." "Wishful thinking because of the boy, I'm sure." Liz smirks. "He's cute." Maria defends herself. "Strange name, but those eyes, those lips…"She smiles. "The way talking about him has the potential to make a certain alien we know jealous…" "You're terrible!" Liz laughs. She feels a certain empathy regarding complicated human-alien relations. There's a sharp rap on the front door, which startles them both. Maria catches sight of a pale face out in the dark. "Speak of the devil," she mutters as Liz gets up to unlock the door. Mulder looks gray-faced and out of sorts when Liz lets him in. He casts them an apologetic look. Um hi…sorry it's so late. Look, first I wanted to tell you again how grateful I am that you and your friends helped me get those files-" "But now you're read the files and they're upsetting enough to make you want to go back." Liz shrewdly guesses. Mulder swallows hard and nods. "The stuff about why they took Sam and why was hard enough to read but…"His voice drops to a near-whisper. "We have a little brother back home. Sweet little guy, just three months old. Those files allude to plans they have for him…" Liz finds herself unusually glad to be an only child. "I'm going to call Max and Isabel right now." ** Wednesday 12:30pm, Witter home "Doggett! You have a guest!" his mother’s disembodied voice floats into his room. Doggett groans and turns off the TV. He’d been watching cartoons on the Disney channel, which isn’t something he wants his friends knowing about. He has a certain reputation to maintain, after all. He’s surprised to see Scully standing in the living room, enduring small talk from his mother. "Hey, what’s up?" he asks. "Bessie made too many clams for lunch, so I wondered if you’d eaten yet." She says, holding up a bag from Ice House His stomach gives an appreciative leap once the smell reaches his nose. "Nah, I haven’t gotten around to that. Let me grab us a couple of sodas and plates. We can eat at the picnic table." "Ok, it’s a nice day for it." She replies. A few minutes later, after they’ve divvied up the clams, Doggett finally asks her, "So…why have lunch with me?" She shrugs. "Let’s see…my boyfriend has gone off to his aunt’s house for the week, Reyes is trying to drive Fowley insane over the Zane thing, and I haven’t seen much of you this summer. Will any of those reasons do?" Doggett grins. "Awww, you missed me. I’m touched." "Don’t worry, my aim is getting better." She assures him with an evil grin. "I can’t believe that the summer is almost over." "Me neither. But I’m happy enough to put off school for a while." "I thought you were looking forward to being a junior." "I am. I’m just not looking forward to the spring." He says between bites. "Why’s that?" "Four letter word. Something that Reyes is going to go way overboard about and drive us all insane over." "The prom?? She can’t be thinking about that yet." Scully exclaims. "You’d think so, but she’s already dropping hints." Is Doggett’s morose reply. "Awe, come on. You knew this was coming, no reason to let it ruin the entire school year for you." "I was thinking, maybe I could fall into a convenient coma until May..." "With your luck she’d find a way to get you there anyway. I can just picture it. Her all dressed up in a pretty dress, you wearing a johnny and being pushed, unconscious, in a wheelchair. Your hairy legs all pale and spindly, jaw slack …" Doggett covers his face with his hands. "I’ll get you for putting that picture in my head." He lowers his hands and gives her a more serious look. "Things are better now, right?" "What do you mean by better?" She gives him a puzzled look. "Well, when we went to the Zoo back before school let out things were tense all around. But now that Sam is back, and that whole business about Spender is over with, they’re ok now, right? And we are too." Scully nods, thinking about how upset they’d been over the secrets. "I think that everything is going to be smooth sailing from here on out." "I’m sure you’re right." Doggett says cheerfully, turning his attention back to lunch. ** 7pm Crash Down Café "You should try a galaxy shake. They're our house specialty." Maria says to Sam. Instead of a sky blue uniform, Maria is wearing black shorts and a white tank top. It's her night off, so she’s eating dinner with Sam. "Ok, sure." Sam agrees shyly. She thinks it’s nice of the older girl to hang out with her why they wait for Mulder and the others to get back. Unfortunately, Sam’s self-inflicted silence has left her rather inept at conversing with anyone but her brother. It doesn’t bother Maria, however, who has enough words for the both of them. "I’ll get Liz to make you one, then." Once Liz had gone after it she gives Sam a conspirital grin. "Don’t tell Liz I told you this, but that blond you met earlier tonight? Liz can’t stand her." Sam blinks. The girl, Tess, seemed nice enough. "Why?" "Tess has a thing for Max." Maria tells her, leaving out the aliens, destiny and reincarnation bits. "That tends to cause friction between people, you know?" Sam nods, but she doesn’t, not really. The idea of relationships hasn’t really taken root in her brain yet, beyond being a passive observer to those of older people’s around her. But she knows that Maria is looking for an agreement, so she nods. "I knew you were a bright kid!" Maria praises her before entertaining her with stories about Michael while they wait. ** Meanwhile, Candling School Since the plan is to go into the school and ransack an office instead of merely grabbing a few files, Max decided that he needed Tess's help. No one liked the idea, least of all Liz, since she and Maria were staying behind, and she wouldn't be able to keep an eye on her rival. Alex promised to report back, but the look Liz greeted the suggestion with convinced no one of her happiness with the plan. Since Max is de facto ruler, the others deferred to him despite the grumbling. Everyone but Mulder had breathed a sigh of relief once Tess and Liz were headed in different directions. He didn't know any of them well enough to understand the nuances to the tension in the air, and his mind was more on his sister than any squabbling between his new friends. He's happy that leaving her behind this time will cause her less anguish, but he feels alone. The others are kind enough to offer him aide, but he alone has any personal stake in the success or failure of the mission, at least beyond the desire not to get caught. The knowledge of that makes him feel an aching loneliness. Although he's not sure he'd be any less alone with her there. At first he was confused as to why it was decided that Alex's computer hacking skills were deemed necessary. "Can't you guys just..?" He'd asked Max, waving his hand in the way Isabel had while copying the files. Max, not a person usually given over to mirth, laughed. "My sister, who is the strongest of us in that regard, probably could make a duplicate of the entire computer. I don't think that toting it out of the building would aide us in a clean get away, though." He pretended not to notice Mulder's red cheeks. "An every day, but intelligent, person like Alex is our best bet." Mulder nodded, and decided to make an small intrusion, hoping he'd be forgiven his trespass. "Do you remember when you lived at Candling school?" Max shook his head, since he never had he of course didn't. "No. None of us remembers anything that happened before we were found wandering the desert, naked, when we were six years old. Even after that the first few days after I was adopted are blurry." He sounded so truthful that Mulder accepted it as the unvarnished truth, without the rest of the details. While what he'd told Mulder had been true, Max had within the past few months remembered the events immediately prior to the ones he described: His, Michael, and Isabel's escape from the ship they'd incubated within for decades; their reluctant abandonment of the sleeper who would become Tess… "Don't feel too bad for me, though." Max gave a small smile. "We're happy enough now to make up for the lost memories." He concluded with less conviction. Sensing that the subject is more painful than Max let on, Mulder didn't ask any more questions. Now, back in Candling for the second time, Mulder has little time to think about Max's past. Michael and Isabel go to the first floor, promising to provide a distraction. Mulder assumes that this will be of an equipment failure nature, because, for reasons he doesn't quite understand, he and the remaining two boys are wearing repairmen uniforms. The girl, Tess, on the other hand is dressed normally for a hot August day. ** Tess stops at the end of the hallway and whispers "Go on to the office. I’ll keep an eye out." Max and Alex nod, and Mulder shrugs, maybe they could use a lookout. Downstairs Isabel and Michael work on providing the building’s staff a little entertainment. Isabel takes the opportunity to dream-walk a employee dosing in the break room. They already had a general idea of where they’d find the circuit breakers, but a little interference in the man’s already mundane dream helps them pinpoint the location exactly. "Did you get what you needed?" Michael asks her once she’s done manipulating the man’s dream. "Yup, it’s one floor down from this hallway exactly." Isabel smiles softly to herself, knowing that the dreamer will probably not mind the fact that a pretty girl entered his dream long enough to ask directions. "Ok, then, let’s do this." He replies, leading the way to the stairs. The hallway is, by either fortune or the simple virtue of it being in the basement, dark and deserted. They make a bee-line for the circuit breakers. Isabel pries the door to the small box open, then nods to Michael. "I’m pretty sure that’s a water pipe." She points. "Maybe you can see if you can do anything to it." "Why not?" He shrugs, then gives her a grin. "Don’t tell Maxwell, but this vigilante stuff is kind of fun." "Righting wrongs where ever we go, sure that’s us." She intones dryly, rolling her eyes. "Or wronging rights." He quips back as he examines the water pipe in question. Her eyes immediately locate the circuit breaker for the floor they want to target- the first- taking care not to confuse it with the floor the others are on. "On the count of three, ok? 1…2…3…!" She places two fingers along the lever for the circuit she’s aiming to destroy, and concentrates. Within a few seconds she can feel a faint heat under her fingers, which she snatches away before the melting plastic sticks to them. If Isabel wields her power delicately, Michael uses his like a sledgehammer. He holds up one hand in the direction of the offending pipe, and releases a wave of power with a blue-white shimmer. The pipe bursts, showering them both with water which they quickly back away from. "That should do it. Let’s get out of here." Isabel says, grabbing him by the hand. ** Meanwhile… Mulder looks on anxiously as Alex types rapidly. Alex keeps up a running commentary as he works. "I’ve just about…almost…ok, got it!" He exclaims as he finds a backdoor to override the password protection. "This was easier than hacking into the FBI database." Mulder nods, not really getting the FBI comment, and gives Max a nervous look while Alex searches the hard drive. "That girl, Tess, she’s keeping a look out for trouble right?" Max gives him a measuring look, trying to anticipate his reaction. "Strictly speaking? No." "No?!" "Tess is…special. Even for people like us. She can make people see things that aren’t quite reality. She doesn’t make thing up completely, so props like our uniforms make it easier on her, but she can make people believe we’re supposed to be here. Don’t worry." Max tries hard not to smile…He’s never been able to explain their powers to anyone who would believe him and not endanger them, or being endangered by them, by getting them involved in what the humans refer to as "alien business." So he finds helping Mulder refreshing. "I promise to try not to worry." Mulder tells him, hoping to keep his word. While they’ve been chatting, Alex has found the file. "Ok, there’s actually only one big file on this computer beyond the basic operating stuff. It’s a document and when I skimmed it, it had the ‘prescient project’ thing right at the top of the page." The cd-rom drive pops open. Alex grabs the disk out and puts it in its case. "Here you go. Sorry they’re not time to print it." "Hey, no, this is great." Mulder says, slipping the case into a pocket of the uniform. "Thanks a lot." A few minutes later they, and Tess, leave the building unnoticed amidst the chaos the lack of power and flooding on another floor are causing. No one gives them as second glance. ** Thursday 8am, Roswell Public Library Mulder believes that he can sleep on the plane ride home, which is why he got up early to come here rather than get an extra hour of sleep like Sam is doing. He yawns as he waits for the computer to boot. Having gotten there when the library opened means that he gets first crack at the patron computers, but it also means that he has to sit through the machine’s start-up process. He doesn’t mind though, since it only makes his way a few minutes longer. His first impulse, the night before, had been to take the disk immediately to the all night print place that mainly catered to college students. He mentally nixed the idea when he realized that the clerk doing the printing would see the document. He trusted his new friends, but remained wary of everyone else in the desert town. It had been difficult to say good-bye the night before. The two waitresses had taken a shine to Sam, and thought she was "a neat kid." Mulder himself found it difficult to find the words to fully express his gratitude. In the end they exchanged addresses and promised to keep in touch. If ever asked, Mulder intended to tell his parents that they were pen-pals from a class project. The computer finally finishes loading, and as he begins reading he’s glad to be in a public space, which helps him keep from over-reacting. +++ Candling Industries- Prescient Project Mission Statement Candling industries is committed to providing quality information gathering operatives. Our operatives are highly trained, and come to their employers with the assurance that they are the best that money can buy. Operatives are suited to infiltrating objectives as well as recognizance. Our operatives possess such talents as precognition, mind reading, remote viewing, telekinetics, and mind control. History Candling itself has been in business for over 50 years, and has been involved with genetic research since the beginning. Candling initially began with the idea of furthering the efforts of the food industry, and breeding better livestock. Before long the business began to branch out and explore the possibilities of affecting human pain and suffering…and monetary gain. The Prescient Project itself began in 1977, and for the past 25 years we’ve been committed to the creation of better spies. Our initial vision was to use eugenics to create perfect spies, but it was soon evident that this would not be the most effective means of reaching our objectives. Some of our first subjects are quite good in their own right. They are the result of selective breeding. Their parents, recruited into the project, showed natural talents towards mental powers. Some of the oldest of our subjects have very obviously inherited their parents’ gifts. However, eugenics failed to provide a steady source of quality subjects. In fact several nulls- those with no gifts- also resulted. Fine, productive members of society they may be, they are not what we were aiming for. Least prospective clients fear otherwise, let us assure you that nulls are treated with the utmost respect as their short-comings are hardly their fault; nulls leave our project and go on to lead normal lives, as are fitting for them. In 1988 we began something revolutionary: gene manipulation. As you probably have heard, scientists have begun to insert genes into zygotes and viruses to produce spectacular results. A well publicized example of the former is the creation of the rabbit Alba, who has jellyfish genes that make her glow in the dark. Inserting DNA into viruses, then injecting it into humans is already showing promise in treating diseases, such as progeria, that are caused by damaged genes which the injected DNA has been able to repair. Our work predates the earliest public announcement of either sort of development. We have isolated the gene that triggers the expression mental powers and can now insert it into human zygotes before implantation. The results of this have been extraordinary, as not only have there been no nulls produced through this method, the powers held by subjects are even stronger than those held by our oldest subjects. Although it is slightly problematic that our most superior subjects are still young children, we have been able to use this to our advantage. While we do have several subjects who are currently acting as "controls" and are being raised by their families so we can study the progression of unfocused powers, the majority of our young subjects live in special facility so we can oversee them. There, in the facility, we are able to teach the children to use their powers, and, more importantly, train them in the ways of information gathering. The facility subjects are well trained by the age of ten years; and many of them are already being utilized by various interested parties. Many clients find that a young child, innocuous by nature, is the prefect recognizance operative as virtually no one is suspicious of a child who is pretending to be distraught over being lost. (note: no children in our program are approved for assassination missions; only operatives over eighteen years of age can be contracted for that sort of work.) At the moment we have forty-five subjects who are ready for fieldwork, and expect, between control subjects we will be recalling at age eighteen and new births, to have over one hundred by 2012. There is a waiting list at the moment, so please make your requests for contracting one of our subjects at least four months in advance for recognizance work, and eight months in advance for wet-work. Methods of Operation In order to procure children for the project, we insist that all employees who are not infertile give one child to the cause. Those employees and their spouses who wish to raise the children undergo IVF. Those who do not are expected only to donate genetic material, which will be implanted in a surrogate. The children of the employees in the later group are raised at the Candling School for Exceptional Children. There we can monitor them closely, and help them learn to control their gifts. The actual method of creating prescience in the children was actually relatively simple once we were able to isolate the gene that activates the usually latent extrasensory abilities that all humans theoretically possess. We have not had one failure since we’ve learned how to insert the gene into zygotes. All of the children with the gene have proven to have gifts. In fact, there has also been no cases of deformity or any other ill effect of the gene insertion. The sole side effect is that, regardless of parental eye colors, all of the younger generation prescient program children have dark blue eyes. This has not proven to be a hindrance, as even a pair of brown-eyed parents can be carriers for the recessive blue gene, so there are no difficult questions to answer for in regards to their parentage. Since this was a wildcard effect, we are just thankful that they did not end up brown-eyed, which would be harder to deal with. +++ Mulder pushes the eject button on the cd-rom drive, making the words disappear from the screen abruptly. There was more in the document, but it is all he can take at once. If Mulder had read the e-mails that Reyes had received- presumably from a spectral Spender- at one point, he would be even more distraught than his is, because they backed up the validity of the information in the project’s history report. As it is, Mulder puts the disk back in the case and covers his eyes with his hands. Price is in no immediate danger, but he pictures himself seventeen years from now, as a 34-year-old man sneaking into his childhood home and spiriting his teenage brother away to somewhere safe, where no one will want to use him as a spy, or assassin. His despair comes not from the worry over the potential disruption to a life he’s not yet living, since he would gladly sacrifice anything for his siblings, but from the incredulity he’d likely be met by in the process. Intimately familiar with the mental processes of a seventeen-year-old boy, he can’t imagine that Price would ever believe him. He wouldn’t believe someone telling him the same story, either. ** Monday 8pm, Leary home A car pulls into the driveway, and Mulder goes to the window. His father is getting the bags out of the trunk, while his mother reaches back into the car to unhook the car seat straps. Mulder has felt anxious about their arrival since they called him the night before to say they’d be picking Price up on the way home. As they walk up the driveway, he has to remind himself that giving into the urge to snatch his brother out of his mother’s arms and scream accusations at both his parents might make him feel marginally better, but would accomplish nothing productive. Mr. and Mrs. Leary are smiling when they get into the house. Mr. Leary starts to put things away while Mrs. Leary speaks to her son. "Mulder, be a dear and take the baby so I can put my things down." She requests while handing over the placid infant. "So how have you two been? The house looks wonderful! I can’t believe what responsible and thoughtful kids I have. You’d never know that you’ve been home by yourself for two weeks-" Mulder’s worries about accidentally saying something inappropriate evaporate when Sam runs into the room and throws herself at their parents. "You’re home! I’ve really missed you!" She exclaims. Mulder is glad he’s the one holding Price. Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Smashing Pumpkins ("To Forgive") Tricky & PJ Harvey ("Broken Homes") And Reveille ("Closure") ** ** Mulder's Creek: 28 Pressing Issues Summary: When school starts in Capeside, many people want to know more about Sam's story. Including a reporter. Opening scene The waves race towards the shore, and then, as if being unable to stand another moment's separation from the bulk of the sea, they rush back, dragging sand and small shells with them. Mulder sighs as he watches Doggett and Reyes splash through those same waves, laughing. He gently pulls Scully closer. She smiles and resettles her self on the blanket they'd spread out hours before at lunch time. "Can you believe that we go back to school tomorrow?" He asks quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the roar of the surf and the cries of the seagulls. "No…"she sighs, echoing him. "The summer seemed to fly by. Except the week you spent at your aunt's. That dragged on and on." He thinks to agree with her, but it would be dishonest, even for him lately. The days in Roswell flew by. "Well, at least we've gotten to spend a great deal of the last three weeks together." "Sure." She laughs, poking him in the side. "But you know that you're sad you haven't been at home, at the center of the 'drama'." "Yeah, right." He gives her a wry smile. "So…explain it to me again. She just started talking, just like that?" "No! I've told you that she's been talking to me since the 4th of July. But you just had to play little Ms. Skeptic- " "Little?!" She sticks her tongue out at him, which he ignores. "But yeah, as far as my parents know she got sick of trying to get her wants and needs across to me, and so she became more brave at her attempts to speak." "Ok, but why did she really start talking to them, then?" "Easy. Because if she didn't, she was going to be placed in a special ed class since my mom is back at work and can't home school her any more. You've got to give her credit, it worked." "And your dad was able to get her re-evaluated by the school on such short notice?" "Yup. She'll be starting in a normal seventh grade class tomorrow." Scully smirks at him. "Wish my life was so eventful." She teases. "Oh no you don't." She quickly corrects her. "Just kidding." She assures him. ** Theme song "Stranded" By Plumb ** Wednesday 6:30am, Leary home Mulder yawns as he walks through the living room. His sister sits barefoot, and clutches a spoon, as she eats cereal and watches cartoons. She wrenches her eyes away from the screen just long enough to acknowledge his presence, so he gives her a little wave on the way by. In the kitchen he decides to eat his own breakfast like a civilized person, at the table. He's just about finished when his mother rushes into the room and plunks Price into his highchair. It's the first day she'll be bringing him to a sitter- the same one Bessie used for Alex- and it seems to be stressing her out. The baby doesn't seen phased by the behavior of the whirlwind that looks like their mother, but Mulder is. "Um…busy morning, Mom?" Mrs. Leary impatiently blows a stray lock of hair out of her face. "The busiest. Sweetie, could you give Price his breakfast? I'm afraid if I do, I'll have to change." "Well, ok, just this once." He teases his mother. He then gets up and goes through the cabinet until he finds a jar of banana custard, which is his brother's favorite. For reasons Mulder can't quite discern, Price inevitably uses feeding time as target practice when Mom is the one wielding the spoon. Mulder, on the other hand, is now and always greeted by nothing more than smiles and lip smacking when offering the exact same flavors of baby food. He's half-convinced that Price senses much, much, more than is normal for a four-month-old. Price pauses his eager swallowing just as the thought crosses Mulder's mind, and laughs. It's a sweet baby laugh, but the coincidence unnerves Mulder even as he hands the baby his bottle. ** 8am, Capeside Middle School Sam walks into the classroom labeled "Ms. Walker’s," the name which matches that on the card guidance gave her as soon as the bus arrived at the school. She glances around the homeroom, and notices that it looks a lot like the classrooms at Candling – books filling cases, desks, a chalkboard. The biggest difference is that everyone who is already in the classroom, waiting for the teacher’s arrival, is staring at her. At first she feels really self-conscious, and wonders if there’s something on her face, a milk mustache maybe, but then she concludes that it might be because she’s new. As if reading her thoughts, a girl with short blond hair comes up to her and asks, "Who are you?" "Sam Leary." "That’s a boy’s name." Another girl says, emphasizing ‘boy’s’. "It’s a nickname for Samantha." She tells them, wondering why they wouldn’t realize that. "Your older brother is Mulder, right?" A boy with spiky brown hair asks. "He was my little neighbor’s big buddy last year." "Yup, Mulder’s one of my brothers." Sam says, flashing the boy a grateful smile. Which dissolves when he asks, "If your brother goes to school in Capeside, why haven’t we ever seen you before?" "Yeah, why?" Someone adds. "Where have you been?" Yet another voice asks. "Where?" Voices chorus. Sam’s eyes dart towards the door, seeking an escape route, but the teacher come in, causing the room to fall silent. For now. ** 2:15pm, near Capeside High School Fowley is enjoying the still-warm September weather on her walk home. The leaves haven’t started to change yet, so it looks like a summer day. She hears her name being called, and a look of annoyance takes up residence on her face when she realizes who it is. "I thought the other schools get out later." She says, not hiding her displeasure. "They do, but there were no sessions scheduled for therapists today so we could have a meeting about departmental procedures. We got out early." Zane tells her with a boyish smile. "So how come you’re not happy to see me? I thought you liked me." He adds with a pout. "I do." She says, giving in to his charm. "Then why do I get the sense that you’ll turn me down if I offer to walk you the rest of the way home?" Fowley puts her hands on her hips. "Don’t play stupid, I’ve explained Grams’ policy to you." "I know, you’re not allowed to date anyone eighteen or older. That’s reasonable enough, but what if you were dating someone and he turned eighteen before you did? Would you have to break up with him on his birthday? That’d be a nice gift." "I’d doubt she’d go that far, but there’s a big difference between someone who is turning eighteen, and someone who is already twenty-three." She points out. "I know, which is why I won’t try to get you to disobey her. I can wait." "I won’t be eighteen until next May." She warns. "Patience is a virtue." He says primly before grinning. "I do, however want to meet this Grams of yours." "Why?" she asks warily. "To ask her policy on friends, of course. Now can I walk you home?" She nods and leads the way. ** 4pm, Leary home Mulder straps Price into his stroller, and calls for Sam. She comes down, and he notices that she looks rather morose. "Hey, Sam. I’m going to bring Price to the park to enjoy the remainder of this gloriously warm day. Snow’s just around the corner, you know. Do you want to come with? Scully is bringing her nephew too." "No, thanks." "Was school ok? You look a little sad." "It was ok." Mulder senses that there’s a lot she’s not saying, but he doesn’t want to push it. He has distinctly unpleasant memories of his mother prying when he was a moody thirteen-year-old, which inevitably resulted in his being angry as well as unhappy. "That’s good. I know first days can be rough. My day went ok, I have a couple of classes with Scully and Doggett. Well, if you want, we can play a game or something when this little guy and I get back." "Sure." Mulder watches for a minute while she scurries back to her room. He has a feeling that what’s bothering her will come eventually, even without pestering her. ** "Mulder, I wanna play catch!" Alexander crows, looking at Mulder with an expectant look. The hero-worship from the late spring has not worn off yet. "In just a couple of minutes. "Mulder tells him with a grin. "Goodie!" Before he goes off to play catch, he asks Scully if it’s ok. "You’re sure you don’t mind? I mean, I’d be leaving you with Price." "Mulder, my nephew thinks you’re a God for some bizarre reason. I couldn’t deprive him of a game of catch with God. Don’t worry so much, it’s not as though I’ve never looked after a baby before, and you’ll be within sight." "Ok, great." Mulder tosses the ball to Alex, who immediately runs away, giggling. Mulder ambles after the preschooler, laughing himself. Scully shakes her head and looks a Price, who is lying on his back on a baby blanket, pulling at his socks. "It’s all your fault my boyfriend is neurotic, you know. Well, more than he used to be. He has this strange idea that if he doesn’t spend lots of time with you after school, you’ll forget who he is. Maybe if your sister had been around when she was little things would be different, so maybe it’s not entirely your fault." She means her comments as a joke, but Price doesn’t take it that way. His eyes immediately fill with tears, and his mouth begins to tremble before he opens it widely to bawl. Looking contrite, Scully immediately picks him up, and tries to comfort him, by standing and bouncing him gently. "Shhh, I was just kidding. I know you don’t understand me, but you’re going to make Mulder think I did something to you." To her chagrin, Mulder notices that Price is crying, so he and Alex head back over. Of course, by the time they get there, Price is quiet again, with one thumb stuffed into his mouth. Scully looks relieved that the worse is over, and is about to explain to Mulder that’s she’s not entirely sure why he was crying when she feels a tap on her shoulder. She looks behind her and sees a frowning face framed by stark-white hair. "Aren’t you ashamed?" The woman asks her. "Of what?" She asks, bewildered. The woman wasn’t there the moment before, so she couldn’t have overheard the one-sided conversation. "In my day and age young women didn’t have babies, and they didn’t flaunt them in public if they did. Certainly not two of them." The woman says coldly, giving Price and Alexander a distasteful look. Scully blinks. "I don’t have children! Of these boys is my nephew, and the other is my boyfriend’s baby brother." The woman stalks off with a haughty shake of her head. Mulder, who has been holding his breath to keep from laughing, makes a strangled noise as the woman wanders away. He coughs for a second, and wipes tears away from his eyes. "Oh man, that was rich." "Yeah, a riot." She says, putting his brother into his arms." "I guess that just means you and I ought to put off starting a family for a few years." "Darn, and I was hoping to be knocked up by the time I was eighteen." She tells him with a smirk. "What does knocked up mean?" Alex asks, giving them a puzzled look. Neither of them had remembered that he was listening. Scully blushes, but Mulder answers the question. Sort of. "Your auntie hopes to be taller soon, so she can knock higher up on a door. People inside hear it better if you knock near the top of the door." The little boy nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. Then his eyes widen. "Grown-ups can get taller?" "We’re not quite grown up, kiddo." Mulder tells him, ruffling his hair. "We won’t be grown-ups until you’re four." "Oh." He nods his head sagely. "That’s a big time away." "Sure is." Mulder agrees. ** 8pm, The Ice House The rush finally over, there’s time to wipe down the tables and talk. Reed and Skinner, who don’t have any classes until later in the week, are happy for the time to catch up; they hadn’t had any shifts in common during the last couple of weeks of summer. "So, what did you do at the end of the summer?" Reed asks. "Oh, you know, annoy my sister, tried not to annoy my dad so he wouldn’t send me out to chop wood for the fireplace…I watched too much TV, and slept in too. You know, the usual stuff. How about you?" "Pretty much the same, except for the sister part. We had a festive gig near Boston at the end of the summer, though, and that was pretty cool." "You didn’t invite your friends?" Skinner says, looking surprised. He still feels a little guilty about having missed Beer is Not a Sex Crime’s first gig, but he’d been grounded for some stupid infraction. "It was small and last minute, so no. We only got to do three songs, so it wasn’t really worth it for anyone else to go all the way there for it." "But it was fun?" "Sure. I mostly liked listening to the other bands though." "Oh, who was good?" Skinner asks with interest. "There’s this one band, The Money Grubbing Communists, and they were wicked good. Even if they do have a weird name." "Ha. Like you guys have a leg to stand on when it comes to criticizing a band’s name." Reed frowns at him. "What did you like best about them?" "The lead singer Chris." "He’s a good singer then?" "No…"Reed looks down, but smiles. "Oh." Skinner says, catching on. "That’s… nice." "I’m only getting to know him, but he seems really nice. I’m probably going to see him again this weekend." "That sounds like fun." For a reason he can’t quite put a finger on, talking about Reed’s new crush bother’s him. ** 11:30 pm, Leary home A voice distracts Mulder from his dreams. He rolls over with a groan, and shakes his head to clear it. Eventually he realizes that the rather loud and upset sounding voice is his mother’s. Worrying that there’s something wrong that he should know about, he hops out of bed. He’s about to rush down the stairs to inquire what’s wrong, when he pauses at the top of the stairs, realizing that she’s talking to someone on the phone. "…and you have the nerve to call at this time of night looking for a ‘scoop’?? You wonder why no one respects you as a journalist, if these are the methods you’re willing to try… Actually, yes, I do think that there’s something wrong with wishing to invade an acquaintance's personal life for a story…I’m not going to stand here and listen to any more of this. Goodbye." Mulder expected his mother to slam the phone angrily, so it surprises him when she rips the phone cord out of the wall and heaves the handset across the room instead. "Mom, is everything ok?" His voice sounds timid even to him. Mrs. Leary reaches to pick up the fallen phone. "No… not really." She puts the handset back into the cradle before turning to look at him. Her face is flush and her eyes shiny. "What’s the matter?" he asks, touching her arm. "You probably know that people who do the TV news like I do don’t get along all that well with the print journalists." Mulder nods, so she’ll continue. "Well, my coworkers have been respectful about our wanting to keep your sister out of the lime-light. Unfortunately, one of the journalists for the local paper has a nephew in one of Sam’s classes, and now he wants to do a story on her kidnapping and recovery." "But they can’t if you say no, right?" "I wish. People can sue the paper, but there’s nothing to keep them from writing whatever story or stories they want. All we can do is not talk to them." She wrings her hands helplessly. "You know about the first amendment and freedom of the press, Mulder." "I’m sorry, Mom." He says, giving her a hug. "Thanks. Just promise that you won’t talk to any reporters you don’t know, ok? Actually, don’t talk to those you do know if I’m not there. You never know when the lure of a story might turn someone you know against you." She says darkly. "I promise." Mulder wanders back to bed, wondering what going back to school is really like for his sister. ** Thursday 6pm, The Ice House The reporter is having a hard thing of things. He tried to talk directly to the little girl while her class was at recess, but a teacher chased him off, accusing him of leering at little children. He was rather put out by that, but he didn’t let it get him down. He tried to call Gale again to see if she could be reasoned with, but he only ended up getting yelled at by her husband, who he met once. Since Mitch was a very strong looking fellow, he decided that calls to the house were probably not a good thing. He tried to talk to the older of the sons, but was only told off in colorful terms. So in desperation he decided that the best way to get his story would be stalk the young man and see who he hung out with. There was an off chance that the boy’s friends might not realize that he was a reporter and let some salient details innocently slip. Which is why he is now at the counter, waiting on a bacon burger and onion rings. The pretty little waitress is definitely close to Gale’s son, or she wouldn’t have kissed the boy before dashing inside twenty minutes ago. She smiles as she places the plate before him. "Here you go." She says with a customer-friendly smile. "You know, I think I saw you with a friend of mine’s son right before I parked my car." He remarks. "Gale Leary?" "Oh yeah, she’s my boyfriend’s mother." Scully replies. "Incredible how her family got their little girl back, isn’t it?" "Really incredible." "I haven’t talked to Gale since before it happened. Do you know how they happened to get her back?" He asks with a shark-like smile. Which immediately sets off warning bells in Scully’s head. "You know I don’t. Mulder’s never really talked about it, beyond being glad that she’s home safe and sound. I’m sorry to cut this short, but I promised my sister that I’d help her with salads after I served you." She smiles again, and dashes out back. The reporter glumly picks up his burger. If the girlfriend doesn’t know, who would? As soon as she’s safely out of sight, Scully picks up the phone and dials Mulder. "Hey, I think I might try out for the next drama club play, since I just gave a performance you’ll thank me for." "What do you mean?" "Is there a reporter trying to get a story on your sister? This guy just casually mentioned that he’s a friend of your mom’s, and he saw us together a little while ago. I get the feeling that he didn’t just ‘happen’ to see us. I think he was following you. Asked me if I knew you, which I said I did. Then he wanted to know if I knew how your family got your sister back. "Scully explains. "I played dumb. Well sort of, since I don’t really know how she came back." Mulder mutters swears with the phone held away from him before continuing to speak to her. "Yeah, neither do I, I guess that’s part of what makes it such an appealing story. Thank you very much for calling me, I think I need to call everyone and tell them not to talk to anyone asking questions. My mom is going to have a fit." "No problem." Scully tells him before really going to make salads. ** 8pm, Leary home Mrs. Leary went for a ride after they ate and surprised them by bringing home Baskin Robbins’ ice-cream for an after dinner treat. Mulder and Sam claimed the chocolate quart, and the older Learys enjoyed pralines and cream, which the kids turned their noses up at because of the nuts. They are just finishing their treat when Mrs. Leary turns to them with a serious look on her face. Mulder freezes. This is never a good sign. "What’s that look for, Mom?" He asks, trying not to sound too nervous. "Mulder, I want to thank you for letting your father and I know that there is a reporter asking questions about us." Mulder shrugs. "Your dad and I talked it over while we were out, and we’ve concluded that there’s only one way to deal with this." "How’s that?" Sam asks in a quiet voice. "If it’s okay with the two of you, we want to go to my work and let one of my friends do a story on us. It will be on Saturday. As long as you’re willing, of course." Mrs. Leary tells them. "But why does anyone need to do a story?" Mulder asks. "If we don’t let anyone do a story, they’ll do one anyway. And since it will be mostly guessing on the reporter’s part, it probably will have things in it that we wouldn’t like very much. If we do a story first, we can only say things we want said, and that’ll be the end of it." Mr. Leary says. Sam looks upset, but she says, "Let’s get it over with then." Mulder gives her a surprised look, he’d thought she’d be the one to resist the most. "If it’s ok with Sam, it’s ok with me." Their parents look relieved. "Great. We’ll talk more tomorrow about what it is that we’re going to say. Ok?" "Ok." ** Friday Capeside Middle School "This seat taken?" Sam looks up to see a boy her age holding a lunch tray. "There’s no one sitting there." She says in a non-committal tone. The day before she’d thought someone was asking to sit with her, but they had only wanted the chair. To her surprise, he actually sits down. "Thanks. So… are people always so friendly to the new kids?" Sam sighs. "I don’t know. I just started this week, too." "And I thought people were so cold just because I started late." "Why did you start late?" She asks curiously, half-wishing she could have started later too. A few years later, maybe. "I usually live with my dad. He’s in the army, and they called him over to the Middle East. He says that they’re sending a few people over now because they already don’t think that they’ll go through with that weapons inspector thing. Since I couldn’t go with him, I got dumped at my mom’s for the school year. With like three days’ notice." The look in his blue eyes in not a happy one. "You don’t like her?" "I don’t know her." "Yeah…"Sam says, thinking that they have something in common. "My name is Sam, by the way." "I’m Daden." "That’s…different." Sam says, squinching her nose. "Oh yeah? Well, Sam’s a boy’s name." He retorts. "God! It’s short for Samantha. Didn’t any of you watch ‘Who’s the Boss’ or ‘ Bewitched’?" In addition to encouraging a liking of comic books, the Candling School also dosed the kids on a heavy diet of Nick At Night offerings. "It means ‘deeds’ in Dutch. My name, that is. It’s the only thing my mom ever gave me." He explains. "Wow, you really aren’t close." Sam remarks. Daden shrugs. "I really only met her last night. She’s not Dad, but she seems ok." "Wait until you get to know her." Sam says with a knowing smirk. Daden giggles. "I bet you’re right." Sam doesn’t quite realize it, but anyone looking can see that she’s well on the way to making her first friend in Capeside. ** Saturday 1pm, channel – Mulder sits next to his dad, who is holding Price in his lap. Sam and his mom sit a bit forward from the rest of them, making them the center of attention. Everyone is dressed up nicely. Mulder and his father are wearing button down shirts and slacks, and Price is wearing a brand new pair of blue corduroy overalls with a train embroidered across the front. Mulder had smiled to himself when he’d first seen them, and he couldn’t wait for his brother to start talking so he’d finally get an answer about trains from him. Mrs. Leary is wearing an airy white summer dress since it is still quite warm out, and Sam, after much cajoling was also forced to dress up. She’s got her hair French-braided and is wearing a dress too. Gale smiles at the camera man, and he gives the signal that the tape is rolling. Gale’s smile widens as she addresses the camera. "Hi, I’m Gale Leary. You probably know me as the news anchor for this station. I’d like to take the opportunity right now to introduce you to the rest of my family." She points at Mr. Leary. "Over there is my husband Mitch and our sons, Mulder and Price. This young lady next to me is our Daughter, Samantha." Sam smiles wanly at the camera, then Mrs. Leary goes on. "Samantha is the reason that we’re here to day. As you may or may not know, Samantha was kidnapped when she was two weeks old. Our home was broken into in the middle of the night, and that day was the last anyone reported seeing her." Mrs. Leary takes Price from Mr. Leary. Price looks like he might cry for a second, but doesn’t, quickly settling on his mother’s lap. "At least until the day that Price was born in May. We received an anonymous phone call from someone involved in her kidnapping, and they told us if we didn’t investigate our daughter’s past, they would release her. We readily agreed, as any parent would, and Sam was dropped off at the hospital. To this day we do not know where she was." I see what you meant by only telling them what we want to know, Mulder thinks. Obviously the truth isn’t one of those things. But really, whose business is it but theirs? "Sam herself has only been talking for a few weeks, and has memory loss so she hasn’t been able to fill any of the blanks in for us. We don’t feel that where she was is important, since she is back with us, and that’s all that matters to her family. Right now the important thing is to concentrate on the future rather than dwell on the past. " "We’d like to thank those people who have prayed for her safe return over the years. Thank you so much." The camera man shuts down, and they are soon ready to go. Mr. and Mrs. Leary are excitedly talking to Sam about how brave she was to go on TV and let everyone know about the kidnapping, and Price babbles along, seeing to want to add his own comments on the matter. Mulder trails behind, wondering how many reporters are going to cry themselves to sleep tonight in anguish over losing the chance to be the first to break the story. He hopes it’s a lot. ** 5pm Ice House Skinner is wiping down the counter when the bell on the door jangles, letting him know that someone has come in. He looks up and sees a young man walking quickly towards him. The guy smiles at him. "Hi, is Reed here? He said he was getting off around now." He said. "I think he’s clocking out now. I can go tell him that you’re waiting for him. Although, it’d be easier if I know your name." Skinner says with a brief smile. "Oh. I’m Chris." Chris. The Chris, presumably. Skinner gives him the once over. He’s short, although taller than Scully and Fowley, he’s probably not even as tall as Reyes. His hair is too long, at least in Skinner’s estimation, and it looks like it could use a good wash. Besides being short, the guy is heroine addict thin. Reed could do better, Skinner thinks. "Um?" Chris says, looking concerned. Skinner gives him an apologetic look, realizing that he’d been staring for quite a while. "So I’ll go let him know that you’re here." "Ok." Chris looks relieved. He must have a nice personality, Skinner thinks with a slight shake of his head as he wanders towards the back room to find out where Reed is. ** Sunday, 3pm, Leary home The Learys recently bought a porch swing, so Mulder and Scully try it out. It has hearts carved into the arms, which Mulder thinks is silly. He mother gushes over how "perfect" it is, so he just grinned and bore it when she asked his opinion when they went to look for it. Sam had only shrugged, which had made him wonder for a second how much of a girly-girl his sister might have been if she’d grown up entirely under his mother’s influence. There’d probably been a lot more frilly dresses in her past. He was rather thankful that none of the girls he’d grown up with were the prissy type. "So I saw you on TV yesterday." Scully says, breaking his reverie. "Yeah? Did I look fat? You know they day the TV cameras add ten pounds." He tells her with a wry grin. "Only your butt." She tells him with a serious look, before laughing at him. "Oh thanks." "It was really brave of you all to do that, you know?" She says, referring to the news segment. "I don’t know about that." He corrects her. "It was just a preemptive strike against a flurry of reporters wanting to break the story, you know? It made it easier on us than it would have been if we hadn’t done it." "Even so, there are now millions of people who don’t even know you but know something about your family history." "Millions? Wow, Mom’s station would be thrilled to hear that." Scully rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean." "But of course. What would be the fun of talking to you if I didn’t get to give you a hard time?" Scully sighs. ** Monday 3pm, Leary home The front door swings open, and Mulder looks up from his history homework. It’s a bunch of dates, which he finds boring, so he doesn’t mind the momentary distraction. Sam bounds into the room, looking happier than he’s seen in days. "Good day at school?" He asks, trying to raise an eyebrow like Scully would in the situation. He’s marginally less successful at it. "The best! I mean it, Mulder, the best like ever." She clarifies. "What was so good about it? No homework?" "No, we got homework. Do you know much about multiplying fractions? It was the best because kids were nice to me. They all saw that news thing this weekend, or most of them did. Now they don’t ask why I didn’t go to school with them ‘cause they know." "Well, that’s good. I’m glad we did it then. Some people I go to school with saw it too, and they said that you must be a strong girl to deal with everything. Pretty cool since they don’t know the half of it, huh?" Sam nods. "No kidding." "So do you have any new friends yet?" Mulder asks, hoping that the question won’t be the wrong thing to ask. "Yup, one so far. His name is Daden. He was nice to me before the TV thing, though." Mulder gives her an impulsive hug. "That’s great! Maybe school won’t be so bad after all, huh?" "It’ll be ok. But Mulder, you didn’t answer my question. Do you know anything about multiplying fractions?" ** Tuesday Capeside Middle School Because he lost a bet over whether or not the character Gambit will appear in the second X-men movies, Mulder is meeting Sam after school so he can take her to pick out her choice of comic books. If he’d won, she’d have to load the dishwasher for a week. Mulder still isn’t sure if she didn’t realize how cheap a comic book is, or she was just convinced she’d win. When he parks and begins to walk towards the school he gets a chill like one would in the presence of evil. He almost chuckles when he notices Krycek giving him an unfriendly glance. "I should have known you’d be here." Krycek grumbles. "The question is, why are you here? I know things didn’t work out with that airhead you dated in the spring, but have you completely given up on finding a girl our age dumb enough to date you? I know middle school girls are young but even they aren’t-" "I’m picking up my brother from school, if you must know." Krycek says with a scathing look. "Since when do you have a brother?" Mulder asks, giving him a suspicious look. "Since when do you have a sister?" Krycek counters. "Touché." "I’ve nearly always had a brother, he just doesn’t live with Mom and I. I guess my parents had a difference in opinions in regards to wanting a second child. Dad did and Mom really, really didn’t. They split up as soon as my brother was born. My dad said she didn’t even look at the baby after he was born. Right now my dad is off playing army hero, so the kid is staying with us. I think she wanted to send him to boarding school, but her conscience, or what passes for one, got the better of her." "Must be strange for you. I know it’s been strange for me." Mulder says almost sympathetically. "A little, but I’ve seen him. It’s not as though we never met before, he’s at my Dad’s when I spend time with my father." Krycek shrugs. Sam and a brown-haired boy walk over to them. "Mulder, this is my new friend, Daden Valentine." Sam explains. Mulder and Krycek exchange a look. It’s not a happy one. ** Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Crash Palace ("Two Kinds") Juliana Hatfield ("My Sister") and Republica ( "I’m Back") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 29 How We All Got Here Summary: When something upsetting and unexpected happens right before New Years, Mulder looks back over the past few months and tries to puzzle out what went wrong. Opening scene The TV plays Rudolph’s Shiny New Years, but no one is paying it any attention least of all Mulder, who is the one who turned it on for a distraction. He can hear his brother fussing in his room, and one of his parents going in to care for him. Mulder continues to stare at the wall, lost in thought. When he hears the police cruiser pull into the driveway, it’s enough to roust him from his stupor. He moves to look out his window, and he hears his at least one of his parents rush down the stairs. The officer driving isn’t either of the Witters, which makes him wonder if things are going to go worse than they would if one of Doggett’s family members was taking care of the issue. Sighing, he tries to peer into the car’s back seat. ** Theme Song : Stranded" By Plumb ** December 30th 4pm, Leery home Mulder assists his parents with the preparation for their New Years Eve party, which they’ve decided to make a yearly tradition again after the year before’s success, with a heavy heart. Last year Langly, Byers and Frohike had been able to make the party, but this year they’re still on campus in the apartment they share at MIT. They’d only been home for Christmas day, and they’d barely had time to talk to Mulder. He mostly kept up with what they were doing through their newsletter and e-mail. It was through e-mail too that he was able to keep in touch with the people he and Sam had met in Roswell, and it seemed from one bitter e-mail that he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t looking forward to this night. The thing that is the same is that Scully won’t be attending. Last year she’d been dragged by Bessie to go retrieve a friend of her sister’s, but this year it was Mulder’s fault she wasn’t coming. Sort of. As much as he protested otherwise, Scully wouldn’t believe him. He is moping while he dusts when he hears a shout from another part of the house. Dropping the duster, he goes to see what’s wrong. Before he can get up there his parents’ door slams, and his parents begin talking in upset tones that are muffled just enough to keep Mulder from understanding what they’re saying. He hesitates, wondering if he should go ask what is wrong, but Price catches sight of him, and begins to clamor for his attention. Mulder shakes his head, and goes into Price’s room. The baby is now strong enough to stand in his crib, as long as he holds on, which he is doing while he tries to get Mulder’s attention. "‘Der! ‘Der!" he calls. An early speaker, Price’s vocabulary at seven and a half months of age already includes "Mama," "Dada," "Sam," "’Der," for Mulder "train," and "ball." His wish to have his name being mangled by his brother before Christmas has come true. Mulder picks him up, which makes Price laugh, then goes to Sam’s room to see if she has any idea what is going on. She’s not there. ** 6pm, Leary home Doggett tickles Price, enjoying the baby’s laughter. Price grimaces when Doggett reaches down and ruffles his wispy dark hair. While Doggett keeps up the pretense that he’s helping out by looking after the baby while his father talks to Mr. and Mrs. Leary, he’s really doing it so Mulder won’t feel like he needs to talk if he doesn’t want to. He gives Mulder a sidelong glance as he moves a stuffed animal in an animated way that fascinates the baby. Price’s eyes are wide as he reaches out his chubby little hands for the stuffed bear that has never walked before. Doggett is glad he can make the little boy happy, because he hasn’t a clue how to make his best friend any happier. From what his father told him on the ride over, Mr. Leary went into Sam’s room to ask her to help with the party, and she wasn’t there. What was there, however, was a note saying that she was running away. Although she phrased it more that she was ‘leaving for a little while’ which didn’t make anyone feel any better. Especially since no one had any idea why she’d left or where she’d went. As far as the Learys can tell it is her handwriting, so their initial fear that she’d been kidnapped again had dissipated somewhat by the time Doggett and the sheriff arrived. There was, however, nothing to make them feel good about a thirteen-year-old who is off on her own. As Mulder watches Doggett play with his brother, the memories from the other reality he was allowed to glimpse come back to him. A bored five-year-old Doggett playing with Sam before her first birthday party. But that didn’t really happen. He’s fairly sure. His thoughts drift back to the present and this reality. Doggett looks over at Mulder who is looking rather listless, and curled up on the couch. "Penny for your thoughts." He says, attempting to draw him out. Mulder replies in a tired voice. "I’ve been thinking about how we all got here, Doggett. Things were going so well before they got bad, you know?" Doggett knew. ** September 25th 3:30pm, Leary home Mulder lets Daden in and gives the boy a wry grin. You can tell by looking at him that he is Krycek’s little brother. Besides the eye color difference, he looks very much like the Krycek in their own 7th grade pictures. There is, however, one other significant difference: Krycek’s cocky sneer is absent from his brother’s face. It makes the younger boy seem far friendlier and approachable than Krycek ever was, even as a first grader. Mulder doesn’t really like to think about Krycek, but they’ve fallen into an uneasy sort of truce since their siblings became friends. And that only came about because Gale and Mrs. Valentine told the two of them in no uncertain terms that they would be grounded until they graduated high school if either of them did anything to discourage the younger kids’ first attempts at friendship in a new school. Mulder and Krycek both felt that their mothers were eerily united on the issue given that they barely knew each other. So Mulder and Krycek are on their least snippy good behavior…at least around their families. At school they can relax and openly despise each other like normal. Mulder joins them in the living room, and resists the urge to give an indulgent smile as he notices them sprawled at opposite ends of the couch as they watch TV. They look nearly as boneless as Price does while sleeping. He does give them quick glances, though. They remind him a lot of him and Scully at that age, and he finds himself idly wondering if they’re old enough to have crushes. At their age he and Scully would still sometimes have sleepovers, and hormones didn’t rear their heads to detract from the innocence of it. It wasn’t until he met Fowley, and developed as massive crush on her, when he was 15 that he ever felt much of a difference between the girls and guys he was friends with. He glances at them again. They still look like pals to him, so maybe he’s not the only late bloomer in the house. Or maybe they’re just normal, despite what TV and movies would have you believe about young kids. It makes him feel better about the rightness still left in the world. ** December 30th 8pm, Leery home Price is now sleeping flat on his back, his arms thrown out, and his lips slightly parted. For a second Doggett imagines what it would be like to come home from that and see that in a few years…He smiles to himself, wondering what Reyes would think sometimes if she could actually read minds. Mulder is still curled up on the couch, looking despondent, so Doggett is about to offer to bring the baby up to his room when Sheriff Witter comes in. He’d been talking to the Learys’ and directing his officers via phone and radio since they’d gotten there. The sheriff scoops Price up expertly, having a lot of recent practice with his own grandkids in past few years, and motions for Doggett to come with him. Mulder doesn’t even look up. Once they’re upstairs, Sheriff Witter gently puts Price in his crib. Despite his admonishments to his two youngest children about not wanting either of them to make him a grandfather again any time soon, he does love little kids. He closes the door behind them, and pauses to talk to Doggett in the hallway. "I want you to do something for me, Doggett. Go into Mulder’s room and get some clothes for him. I don’t think he should be alone tonight, because he looks really depressed, but his parents are too wrapped up in this to do more than necessary to take care of the little one. There are going to be people trooping through here all night probably, so I’m going to bring you two to our house for the night. See if you and Gretchen can cheer him up, ok?" Doggett nods, then grabs some clothes that he thinks he remembers seeing Mulder wear. He wishes that Reyes was there, because she’d remember what his favorite clothes are, even if Mulder never told her. Or better yet, Scully, but he knows that Mulder wouldn’t want her over. A few minutes later he’s on his way back down, and his father assures the Learys that he’ll be back soon. "Get up, son." Sheriff Witter demands gruffly. "You’re coming to my house for the night. Your parents have enough to worry about right now." "Ok." Mulder agrees faintly, following after them like a dutiful puppy. Once they’re in the cruiser, Mulder presses his face up against the window. "What are you thinking about?" Sheriff Witter asks, glancing at the rear-view mirror. "Halloween." ** Halloween 7pm Leary home Although their friends tried to talk Skinner and Reyes into having another Halloween party, the twins reacted with horror. Since the last party resulted in there being a dead body on their front lawn, their trepidation was not hard to understand. And even if they had embraced the idea, the likelihood of convincing Mr. McPhee to allow one would have been slim. He’d had to fill out a huge stack of paperwork the year before, which might be why he hadn’t offered to let them have another party since. Instead, the plan for the night is to gather at Mulder’s house, and watch horror movies while feasting on sweets. Scully and Reyes arrive first, while Doggett and Skinner are still out picking up the movies. Fowley and Reed plan to arrive fashionably late. Although Scully claimed that she and Reyes are there to help him set up, it’s obvious that their real motivation for being there early is Sam and Daden. Envious of their more extreme youth, which allows them to go trick o’ treating without guilt or embarrassment, they gush over the costumes the pair is wearing. Predictably, they’re going as super heroes. Sam is Rogue, and Daden is Gambit, which doesn’t surprise Mulder at all, since his sister is still harping on the fact that her favorite male x-men character has been written out of the movie. There’s a commotion as Mr. Leary bring down Price. Sam objects violently when their father insists that she and Daden go out with him and the baby, saying that it’s tradition for him to shepherd trick o treaters. When Sam looks to Mulder for back up, he can only shrug. His dad had gone with him when he was their age. Sam pouts. Mr. Leary compromises with the indignant young teenagers by telling them that if they carry a walkie-talkie, he’ll let them get ahead of him and Price. They agree, because while it’s not quite as good as going out on their own, at least they won’t be mortified by an adult sticking to their sides. The night goes by in a subdued manner, at least compared to the year before. There are no murders, no romps though the woods, no broken bones. It was very tame by Capeside standards. The scariest thing all night is wondering how the neighborhood kids are going to react when they are told that there’s no more candy. As people are leaving, Mulder says good-bye at the door. Fowley was the last one to leave. "Pretty mundane compared to last yeah, huh?" Mulder asks, holding the door for her. She smiles wryly. "Hey, at least I won’t be capping off this Halloween with an e.r. visit." Fowley says, referring to the ankle she broke exactly one year before. "Ah, but at least the handsome e.r. doctors would be bore exciting company than I have been tonight." "I don’t know…I can’t think of too many people who lead more exciting existences than you do. Besides, the only handsome e.r. docs are on TV. The one I saw last year was about my dad’s age, fat, and balding. You’ve got a leg up on them." She told him laughing as she left. It’s only a couple of hours later as he’s trying to get to sleep that he wonders if she might have been flirting. He shakes his head at his own foolishness and rolls over to try sleeping on his other side. ** 8:30 pm, Witter home Mulder docilely follows Doggett into his house. Doggett pauses just long enough to wave good-bye to his father, who will be returning to the Learys’. Mulder doesn’t seem to notice that Doggett stopped. The first and only thing Mulder does is park himself on yet another couch. "So, are you tired? Dad says you’ll be sleeping in Kerry’s old room, and it’s all set if you are. Don’t worry, my folks had it fumigated after she left." Doggett says with a wry look. "I’m not tired." Mulder answers in a disinterested voice. "Hungry? Mom made meatballs, and it’d only take twenty minutes to make pasta. Well, if I turn the burner up high. Mom hates that, but who’s going to tell her?" Doggett’s mother is spending the week at his oldest sister’s house. "No thank you." Mulder says. That same flat tone, devoid of emotion. Doggett looks frustrated. "Not tired, not hungry…I’d ask if you wanted to play a video game, but you’d just say no to that too." Doggett sighs and picks up a remote control. "Let’s watch TV, no thinking required." Doggett startles as Mulder grabs the remote control from him. "Why?" The other boy looks aggravated, but not angry. At least not at him. "I figured it was something we could-" Mulder shakes his head. "Why would she run away?" "I don’t know. A lot of kids do. Almost all of them come back in a day or two. That’s what my dad says, and he deals with a lot of runaways. " "No! She’s not a lot of kids. She’s someone who was taken from her family. Doesn’t she know that she can’t run off because of that? Doesn’t she?" Mulder eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "You’re right. She’s not like most kids. But she is just thirteen years old. Kids that young don’t think like adults do, or even like we do. Don’t you remember when we were thirteen? We were pretty stupid some times." Doggett tells him. "Yeah, and you still are." "Hey!" Doggett assumes an insulted look, but he’s secretly glad Mulder looks a little better. "Isn’t that the year we decided to paint your parents’ garage?" "Without asking." Doggett adds. "I didn’t leave my room except for school for a week." "I still think it looked pretty good." Mulder tells him, forgetting to be upset for a moment. "Yeah, so good that Dad had it repainted professionally." Doggett laughs, remembering the two them covered head to toe in gray paint, some of which got on the garage that they neglected to strip the old paint from first. ** November 9th, 9am Leary home Mr. Leary went into the office, and doesn’t expect to be home until noon. Mrs. Leary and Sam are also gone, having taken an impromptu visit to the urgent care clinic. Sam had woken up with a high fever and a sore throat, so their mother worried that it was strep throat. She and Sam argued about it for fifteen minutes, but Mrs. Leary finally won in the end, despite Sam being nearly in tears at the thought of visiting a doctor. Mrs. Leary was blithely unaware of what memories Sam associated with all people in white lab-coats, so she thought that Sam was just being stubborn. Taking stock of the situation, and being faced with the real possibility of being dragged along to entertain the baby in the waiting room, Mulder took preemptive action and immediately offered to baby-sit Price from the comfort of home. "Oh, Mulder, that would be great." His mother had told him, apparently so wrapped up in helping a sullen and frightened Sam get bundled up to go out that she failed to recognize his ploy for what it was. She led Sam, with a comforting yet firm grip on her shoulder, out the door, but took the time to look back at Price on the way out. "You be a good boy for your brother." She admonished her youngest. Price just laughed at her. Mulder yawns and stretches once they’re out of the house, and plops down on the couch. He fixes his glaze on his brother. "Did mom feed you before she left?" Price started at him. "Hungry?" He actually expects an answer to the second question. Some of Sam’s old sign language books covered babysign, and Mr. Leary is teaching it to Price. So far he knows the signs for "yes," "no," "more," and "all done." While not as precise or intricate as the real ASL signs, they’re adequate for allowing pre-verbal babies an opportunity to express at least some of their wants. Price smiles at Mulder and wags one curled fist up and down in response to Mulder’s question. Mulder drags himself off the couch. "Ok, I’ll feed you then. I haven’t eaten either." He says as he frees his brother from the clutches of his baby swing prison, only to immediately put him in another one in the kitchen. While it’s not exactly a sign, Price quite clearly conveys his impatience by smacking the tray of his high chair repeatedly. "Geez, give me a minute would you?" Mulder complains. The pounding increases in volume. Sighing Mulder puts a baby cookie in each of Price’s fists, so he gum them while Mulder gets their breakfasts. The baby only has three teeth yet, so Mulder thinks the cookies will keep him occupied for a while. Once he’s done putting the baby food in Price’s suction-cupped, sectioned bowl, he advises his brother that he’s about to go for a ride. The baby squeals in delight as Mulder drags the high chair to the center of the room. "There! I’ve been watching you throw things, and I’m pretty sure the cabinets are out of your range." Not quite sure why their parents are so reluctant to allow Price to feed himself, since baby food wipes up, he wants to see if Price has any luck if he’s able to practice it. For once Mulder would like to be able to eat his own breakfast before it gets soggy. He firmly affixes the bowl’s suction cup to the tray, and hands the baby his spoon. "Go nuts." He watches a moment to see if Price has any luck, and when he does, he walks to the cabinets and gets himself his bowl of cereal. He’s just putting the milk back when the phone rings on the other side of the kitchen. As he expects, it’s his father. "High Dad…"He says, noticing that the fridge door has bounced back open the way it does when it hasn’t been closed firmly enough. Mulder frowns at it as he tells his father what’s on the grocery list his mother wrote before realizing she needed to take Sam to see a doctor. He wishes that his brother is big enough to send to close it while his father drones on. Price, who’s been attentively watching Mulder between clumsy attempts to get the spoon in his mouth, follows Mulder’s gaze. Mulder nearly drops the phone when the door swings itself shut with a definitive snap. Price claps. Shaken, Mulder immediately decides to keep what just happened between himself, Price and the fridge. What his parents don’t know, and can’t report on, won’t hurt Price. ** 9:30 pm, Witter home Reyes gives Mulder a quick hug. "Do you mind if I steal Doggett for a minute? I need some help getting something from my car." "No, that’s fine." Mulder tells her with a wane smile. Reyes is sweet, but her smothering concern and attempts to cheer him up are getting on his nerves, and she’s only been here for half an hour. He knows she means well. Reyes leads Doggett outside by the hand. Once she gets to the car that her father bought for her and Skinner, she pops the trunk. "What is that?" Doggett asks, peering into the dimly lit interior. She shrugs. "Something heavy. Maybe a sewing machine." "If you don’t know what it is, why did you bring it?? "Doggett asks, giving her a shocked look. "Well, I had to have some excuse to get you alone that wouldn’t make Mulder feel self-conscious." She insists. "But… how did you-" "I knew such an excuse would come in handy from the way you described how he was acting. No psychic skills required." She laughs. "So…has he told Scully about what’s happened?" "You should know he hasn’t. They don’t talk much lately." Doggett shrugs helplessly. "I know." Reyes says looking chagrined. "It’s still hard to believe that they’re not together." "At the moment." Doggett insists. He picks up the heavy plastic case. "I’m sure Gretchen will be glad for the loan." "What?" Reyes looks confused for a second. "Oh, right… Poor Mulder, first that thing with Scully happens, now this. "She trails after Doggett, wishing that she knew how to make things better for their friend. ** December 2nd, 6pm Capeside House of Pizza Mulder walks in through the front door, scanning the moderately sized crowd for Scully. Although she said she’d meet him here at six, she seems to be running late. He does, however, see a familiar face. Huddled in a booth, Fowley picks listlessly at a piece of pepperoni pizza. Figuring that she looks like she could use someone to talk to, Mulder walks over and slides onto the seat next to her. "Why so glum?" When she looks at him, he sees that her eyes are red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying a lot. This doesn’t make him feel any less concerned. "Oh…It’s December 2nd, you know." "Yes..." Mulder knows the date, but it doesn’t explain things, like perhaps it being the 7th might. So far as he knows, the second is not a day of infamy. Fowley gently shakes her head. "Sorry. It’s been exactly one year since…since Spender came back." "Oh." He says, since there’s nothing else he can think of to say. The anniversary of the return of ones’ dead-undead boyfriend isn’t something to lend itself to spur of the moment speeches. At least not for him. "I can’t help but think about Spender. I mean, I wasn’t exactly thrilled when he came back, or whatever that was, and I even ordered him to leave because he freaked me out! I was really mean to him a couple of days later, and yelled at him too." She says guiltily. "But that wasn’t really Spender." Mulder says gently. He’s worried about her mental state, if just a little bit. "I know… but I didn’t know then. I should have been nicer. I didn’t know having him, or who I thought was him, back was only a temporary thing. I guess that’s sounds silly." Her cheeks begin to redden. "No, I think I understand." Mulder says quickly. She smiles wanly. "That’s something I’ve always liked about you. You’re very understanding." "Well, that’s just because I’m willing to believe just about anything." "No!" She gives his shoulder a playful push. "One thing I don’t like about you, though, is that you sell yourself short. You have a lot of good points. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re handsome…"Before Mulder knew what was happening, she leaned over and kissed him full on the lips. ** Mulder pulls away quickly, blinking in shock. "What are you… you know I have…" "I hate you both!" A voice exclaims suddenly, confusing Mulder even more. By the time Mulder figures out what is going on, Scully is running out the door of the pizza place. "What did you do?" He hisses angrily at Fowley as he struggles to get out of the booth. Fowley gives him an unrepentant look as he leaves as well. "Scully, wait!" Mulder calls as he races after her fleeing form. He catches up with Scully half a block away from the pizza place. "Please stop." He pleas. She whips around, looking at him. "Why should I?" Wisely, he doesn’t point out that she already has stopped. "Because that wasn’t what you thought it was." "It wasn’t you kissing Fowley?" She challenges. "No, it was Fowley kissing me!" "Like that’s so much better." She says angrily. "I don’t know why she did it, she just did." Mulder exclaims. "There’s got to be a reason." "There isn’t." Mulder insists. "Or if there is, I don’t know what it is, because it just exists in her head." Scully’s expression tells him that she doesn’t believe him. "Leave me alone, Mulder." She turns on her heel and walks quickly away from him. "Scully, please!" Mulder calls after her. She doesn’t look back. ** 8am, Witter home A large, slightly rough hand on Mulder’s shoulder pulls him out of sleep. Mulder blinks and looks up at sheriff Witter. "Time to go home?" "Yeah, time to go home." Doggett’s father agrees. "Did they find Sam yet?" Mulder asks, fear seeping into his voice. The sheriff shakes his head. "I’ve got cops looking for her right now." "So she’s not dead." Mulder blurts out. Seeing the horrified expression on the man’s face, he adds, "That’s all I dreamt about. Sam, found dead." "Mulder, we’re going to do everything we can to find your sister as soon as possible. This isn’t the big city, there aren’t a lot of predators in Capeside, so there’s no reason to think that we won’t find her safe and sound." Mulder looks up at him with hollow eyes. The sheriff hasn’t seen half the things that he has, and doesn’t realize that humans aren’t the only monsters roaming the world. Especially in Capeside. ** December 24th 9pm Leary home As soon as she gets in the house, Arden Leary makes a bee-line for her cousins. "Sam, show me your room." She says brightly as she throws a familial arm around her shoulders, leading her past a Christmas tree standing over half a ton presents the elder Learys seem subconsciously convinced are necessary to make up for the dozen missing holidays. Arden seems to be part of the "making up for it," and her family has just gotten to Capeside. They are just stopping off for a quick visit before going to the hotel for the night, planning to return in the morning. Sam, who has never met her before this very minute, doesn’t seem to know what to make of their cousin, but seeing that Mulder likes her follows his lead. Once they’re in Sam’s room, Arden firmly shuts the door. "Finally! This time last year I doubted that I’d ever get to met you. Oh, I know your brother was looking for you, but call me a doubting Thomas." She says with a grin. "I like your hair." Mulder comments when she pauses for breath. She’s dyed it a platinum blond, which keeps her and Sam from looking just alike. "I was blond when I was born, so I figure I’m entitled." Arden explains. Sam’s expression suggests that she’s trying to catch up to the conversation. "You’re the cousin who helped Mulder try to figure out what happened to me." "None other. "Arden grins. "You know, I think he would have found you before long even if they hadn’t decided to bring you back. I wish I could have helped him more, but college kept me busy – still does- and I was all the way across the country. I’m so glad you’re back, though." She gives Sam’s arm an affectionate squeeze. Sam smiles back, surprised to learn that her brother wasn’t the only member of the family willing to try to find her. Mulder, however, doesn’t pay much attention to his sister and cousin’s chattering. Instead his eyes are fixed on the window. All he can think about is that he won’t be seeing Santa this year, because Price is too little to believe. The mysterious alien and his glowy-green friends might be stopping at Scully’s later on, but this year he won’t be there to see them. He wonders for a second if Scully will stay up late, but concludes that without his insistence otherwise, she’ll pretend that what they saw was nothing, nothing worth looking for a second glimpse of. ** Noon, Leary home Mulder hasn’t spoken to his parents since he’s gotten home. Instead he’s shut himself up in his room, so he can be alone with his bitterness. His parents are still carrying on, professing fear and grief, and it’s killing him. Though his memories of early childhood are admittedly faded with time, he’s entirely certain that his parents hadn’t made such an outpouring of emotion when his sister was stolen as a helpless infant. All he kept thinking about was how his parents told him to forget about her. Now, that she was big enough to be able to decide to take off on her own, now they were all grief-stricken. It seemed so contrived, and he almost hated his parents for it because he had no way of knowing if they were generally upset or not. They wouldn’t ever let him in, so he didn’t know them well enough to read them. He promises himself that if Sam comes home, he’ll make sure things aren’t like that between them, since they may be the only true allies either of them will ever have. ** December 30th 11am Leary home Sam is watching Price in his room while Mulder and their parents move furniture downstairs in preparation for the party. Daden is over too, and he’s helping her look after the baby. Sort of. At the moment he’s holding the little boy’s hands, and helping him to stand. "Look at that! I bet he’ll be walking soon." Daden cheerfully exclaims. "I don’t think so. He can’t even stand up alone yet. He’s not even eight months old, you know." "I know. Most babies this young can’t do this at all, though." He insists as Price bounces happily. "You spend a lot of time around babies?" Sam asks, arching an eyebrow. "My dad is dating a woman with two little kids." Daden explains. "One is a baby a little older than Price is now, and one’s two. She’s nice, the babies are nice too. Her husband died before the younger baby was born, so she and dad have been dating for a while now." Mulder walks in then. "Hey, what are you two doing? And have you seen the step-stool? Dad thinks you took it." "Oh yeah." Sam says sheepishly. "It’s in my room. I’m too short to reach the closet shelves without it." As she stands up, she glances over at Daden and Price with a frown, then leaves the room quickly. ** December 31st, 3pm Leary Home Not wanting to get underfoot, Mulder makes his way downstairs slowly. The two officers, one of whom Mulder vaguely recognizes, perhaps from the night of Krycek’s accident, have already been let in the house. Silent and shrinking back against the couch, Sam doesn’t respond to any of their parents’ hysterical questions. The older officer speaks to Mr. and Mrs. Leary in a low voice, presumably explaining where they found Sam. Mulder, however, doesn’t find out because she suddenly bolts away from their parents, pushing past him as he finally reaches the foot of the staircase. Her door slams shut with a rattle. Mulder looks up the staircase, then wanders over to his parents, who are exchanging good-byes with the police. He’s about to open his mouth to suggest that perhaps he should talk to Sam, when he mother beats him too it. "Mulder, she talks to you. Can you try to talk to her? Let her know that we’re not mad, we were just scared." She pleads. Mulder tries for a reassuring smile. "Sure mom. But I’m not going to report everything she says back to you." "I don’t expect you to. Just see if you can get her to promise not to ever do it again." "Ok." Mulder wonders if Sam will even talk to him, but he agrees with his mother, he’s the one she’s most likely to talk to. It’s not as though either of their parents has given the girl a reason to confide in them. ** Mulder knocks softly on Sam’s door, then opens it slowly when there’s no answer forthcoming. He expects her to shout at him to leave, or at least give him hateful looks, but she doesn’t. Instead she’s curled up on her bed, crying softly. He sits on her bed next to her and touches her back. "Do you want to talk about it?" She sits up suddenly, and turns her red eyes on him. "I lied to you." "About what?" "I told you that I wasn’t interested in those…files we went and got, and that I wasn’t going to read them." "But you read them anyway?" Mulder guesses at what the lie is, that’s all he hopes it is. "Price has blue eyes, because of what they did to him before he was born." She says in a hollow voice. "I know." "And…did you ever really take a good look at Daden?" "I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Sam." "Ok, yesterday, I finally took a good look at them. Price and Daden. They’re got the same color eyes, Mulder. No one else has eyes that color." "Weren’t there kids at Candling with eyes that color?" Mulder blurts out before his brain catches up to what she’s implying. "I told you, we weren’t allowed to play with those kids." She says sounding frustrated. "They said in the report that they wanted to show mom other kids who would be like Price. But back when I was a baby. There was a parents’ group, remember? For people in the area with kids like that. Daden is one of those kids, Mulder, he has to be." "Sam, that’s an awful lot to assume based on someone’s eye color…"Mulder says, then realizes that he’s just trying to placate her, not approach the idea logically. "but you might be right. Has he…done anything strange in front of you?" Sam shakes her head. "No…but I’ve never seen Price do anything either, and you know he does." Mulder thinks about the incident with the refrigerator door, and the butterflies. He nods. "So you ran off because you were upset?" ** "Yeah… I know I shouldn’t have, but… I couldn’t think here." Sam says, looking slightly ashamed. "The thing is, though, I don’t think we should tell Mom and Dad the truth. God knows they have no regrets about lying to us. Ok… the people that kidnapped you used to… scream at you and tell you how worthless you were on new years because it meant another year had gone by without your parents getting you back. You thought about all the bad memories, and it made you scared that they might be right and that we didn’t really care about you. When you heard the police calling for you it made you realize how silly that was, and how much it meant to us that you were back with us, so you went to the police so they could bring you home. After you explain that, start crying and they’ll feel so guilty they probably won’t ask you anything else about it." Mulder tells her. "God, Mulder, that’s brilliant. But don’t you feel bad about all the lying we do to them?" Sam asks curiously. "Do you think it’s not justified?" "No, but I was wondering, because I don’t." She says with a small smile. "Whatever it takes to keep you and Price safe. "Mulder says. "And we’ll help Daden too if we can. But you know they’re not going to do anything until he grows up, just like Price." He points out. "Yeah… but you’d really help him too? He’s not our brother or anything." "You can’t judge someone’s importance by virtue of sharing DNA with them." Mulder says with a shrug. But he’s thankful that Daden is almost five years away from his eighteenth birthday. ** Leary house 8pm Since everyone’s nerves have calmed, Gale has spent the last two hours on the phone, explaining to people that the party is on again. Most people have been delighted, and still plan to come. Most people. Mulder doesn’t notice the guests arriving, because he’s been on the phone himself, with Scully, for the past ten minutes. He allows himself to be hopeful because things have been going well, as far as he’s concerned. So far all they have talked is how Sam took off, and how the police found her hanging around an abandoned house a few miles away. Mulder doesn’t tell her the real reason Sam took off, because as of yet he’s been too afraid that she won’t believe him to ever have explained the adventure he and Sam had over the summer. So she receives the same bland explanation for the running away as Mulder’s parents did. Like them, she seems to buy it. Feeling brave by her politeness, Mulder suddenly decides to make his move. "That party my parents were having? It’s back on now that Sam’s home. The invitation still stands if you want to stop by." Three heartbeats later, Scully says, "Thanks, but I’m not going to. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I’ll….I’ll see you once school starts. Bye." Mulder stares sadly at the phone as the dial-tone sounds. Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Jeremiah Freed ("How They All Got Here") The Cardigans ("Erase and Rewind") And Mighty Joe Plum ("Borderline") ** ** Mulder's Creek: 30 Life's a Stage Summary: Everyone, except Mulder, thinks that the school play Scully and Krycek are co-staring in is plagued by a ghost. Opening scene They are each holding a game controller on the pretense of playing but they’re really talking about what a screw-up Mulder is. "Seriously, what did you say to make Fowley think that it was ok to kiss you?" Doggett asks again. Mulder thinks it’s for the fifth time, but third is probably closer to the truth. "Nothing! I’ve gone over everything I’ve said to her since she came back this summer and there’s really nothing." "But Scully doesn’t believe you." Skinner says, sounding sad. "You saw her at school today… she barely said a word to me, even at lunch." "It was cold the way she wouldn’t come to the party." Doggett sighs. "Not even as a friend. She’s supposed to be your friend, isn’t she?" "I understand it, though. It would have been wicked awkward for her. That’s not what I wanted." "You’ve got to fix things before it’s too late." Skinner scolds. "I waited too long to make a move, and look where that got me." He says, and they know that he means Reed seeing someone else. "How?" Mulder demands to know. "I’m open to suggestion." They shrug helplessly. ** Theme song - "Stranded" By Plumb ** Friday morning, Capeside High Smiling broadly, Krycek wanders over to Mulder's locker. Smiling is never a good sign when it comes to him and Krycek, so Mulder is immediately on his guard. "What do you want?" "Oh... I was just wondering if the rumors are true." Krycek sneers. "What rumors?" "The one that goes you try to make up with Scully and she blows you off." "What do you do, hire a PI to follow me around so you can find things out to irritate me?" Mulder snaps at him. "Oh no," Krycek says gleefully. "No hiring necessary. Really Mulder, if you want thinks kept private, you shouldn't make a phone call when you have party guests." Mulder wonders who his parents might have invited who would have spilled the beans. He supposed it didn't really matter. "Even if it is true, what's it to you?" "It's definitely true then." Krycek laughs nastily. "What's it to me is that I figure if Scully's not attached..." "Leave her alone." Mulder demands. "Funny, Leary. The way I see it, you're just about the last person who has any say in what anyone does to or with her." Krycek says, wandering off happily. Mulder stares after him, angry that Krycek is planning to bother Scully, and angrier that the other boy is probably right. ** Lunch time On her way to meet Reyes and Skinner in the café, Scully notices a flyer on the junior cork-board, so she stops to look at it. The blue paper is an enthusiastic call for kids to join the cast of the school’s winter play. The try-outs are scheduled for the following day. As she reads it, Bessie’s words from the day before come back to her, "If you’re not going to work things out with Mulder now, you need to find a way to get your mind off of him." Since she still isn’t ready to try to make up, the idea isn’t bad advice. She has, she reflects, spent entirely too much time brooding. A hand touches shoulder, and she nearly jumps. "What are you reading?" Reyes asks, obviously wondering what has so thoroughly captured her friend’s attention. "This sign." Scully points at it. "It’s about try outs for a play." "Are you going to try out for it?" "I think I will." Scully suddenly decides. "That’s great!" Reyes tells her in a bright tone, but she’s already thinking something out. "I didn’t know you acted." She adds as an after thought. "Neither did I." Scully tells her with a grin. "I probably won’t get a part, but it could be fun to try out." "And it would look good on your college transcripts if you do." Reyes says, making her groan. Reyes is the only one who is totally consumed already by the idea of college. Everyone else is more concerned with just getting through the last eighteen months of high school. But Scully is in a much happier frame of mind by the time they get to lunch, even though Mulder’s sitting next to Doggett. ** Friday Morning, Leary house Mulder is in the middle of brushing his teeth when the phone rings. No one ever calls him before school, so he ignores it, letting someone else get it. So it comes as a surprise to him when his mother’s voice calls up "Mulder! Phone!" He spits and rinses quickly, then rushes down the stairs two at a time. He has a half formed hope that it’s Scully, but that expectation isn’t strong enough to disappoint him when it’s not. "Mulder!" Reyes’ voice floats up to him from the receiver before he’s even got it to his ear. He grins, thinking that he should have guessed. The early morning weekend visit just prior to Doggett’s last birthday should have told him that she’s not too conscious of how early is too early. "What’s up? Doggett’s birthday isn’t for about a month." He points out. "I know." Reyes replies dismissively. "I’m calling about Scully, actually." "About Scully how?" He asks cautiously, wondering if Scully had said something about him. Half hoping she had, but half fearing it too. "She’s trying out for a play at school today." Reyes says brightly. "That’s nice…" "No, don’t you see? You have to be there!" Reyes insists. "Why?" Mulder asks, wondering if the answer would be more obvious if they were having the conversation later in the day. "To try out, Silly." "I don’t act." He protests. "Then you can volunteer for stage crew." "This isn’t a good idea, Reyes." He cuts her off before she gets any more wound up. "Why not?" She demands to know, and he can hear the pout in her voice. Doggett insists it’s endearing, but he can’t fathom that. "Scully asked for space, and this would be the opposite of that." "But-" Reyes protests, obviously not read to give up the good fight. "I know you’re just trying to help, but I’ve known her a lot longer than you have. This would just make her madder at me." "Ok." Reyes says, but her disappointment is clear. "I wouldn’t want her to be more mad." "Me neither." Mulder reverently agrees. "I’ll see you at school." He says good-bye, and finishes getting ready for school. He knows she just wants to be helpful, but he wishes people would stop trying to help. ** 2pm, Capeside High Stage Skinner is going to be part of the stage crew, but he only needs to sign up, so Scully is alone at try-outs, and she only half minds that. She’s had a sneaking suspicion that she and Mulder are Reyes’ new project, so she half expects for the other girl to drag Mulder there to watch. It’s to her vast relief that neither of them are there. However, her relief is short-lived. "Fancy seeing you here." A snide voice from behind her says. She doesn’t bother to turn around. "What are you doing her, Krycek? Going to do the special effects?" "The effect I plan to have is pretty special, but I’m here to try out for the best role in the play." Scully rolls her eyes. "I’m surprised you’ve even read the play." "Had to, it was assigned in my English class last year." Krycek tells her. "Which is why I know I’m perfect for Don John." "You would play the villain. You’re so suited for it." "I guess you’re not trying out for Margaret, you’re too cold for that role. She’s hot blooded." He retorts with a condescending sneer. "You are so-!" Scully doesn’t get to finish her reply, because the director calls out that the tryouts are about to begin. ** Scully only looks a little nervous as the bright stage lights shine down on her. "Hi, my is Scully Porter, and I’m reading for the part of Hero." When the director nodded, she began to read. "O god of love! I know he doth deserve As much as may be yielded to a man: But Nature never framed a woman's heart Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice; Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, Misprising what they look on, and her wit Values itself so highly that to her All matter else seems weak: she cannot love, Nor take no shape nor project of affection, She is so self-endeared." "Thank you." The director says, his voice completely neutral. It makes her nervous as she walks off the stage, since she has no idea if he liked her reading or not. Krycek brushes against her shoulder as he passes. "Aww, don’t leave, I’m about to read." She smirks, but decides that his reading will probably be entertaining, so she decides to stay, and sits in the last row near the door, where she knows she can’t be seen from the stage. Krycek swaggers up to the stage, and she’s entertained already. Exuding more self confidence than any high-schooler should ever know, he introduces himself and begins to read for the part of Don John. "The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I could say she were worse: think you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it. Wonder not till further warrant: go but with me to-night, you shall see her chamber-window entered, even the night before her wedding-day: if you love her then, to-morrow wed her; but it would better fit your honour to change your mind." His delivery is full of feeling and hints of planned treachery. Scully is not the only one who enjoys his performance, and he gets a smile from the director. This causes Scully to feel envious. As entertained as she was, she leaves before Krycek gets off the stage, not wanting him to know she was jealous or even stayed. ** Saturday 11pm Lindley home Fowley looks up and down the hall as she goes up to her room. She’s sure that Grams is in bed, but she doesn’t want to be caught with her visitor, even though the visit isn’t going to lead to anything risqué. When he follows her into the room, she closes the door softly behind them, then goes to perch on her bed, with her knees drawn up to her chin, her arms wrapped around them. It isn’t going to be a friendly visit, it never is. "I don’t understand." He hisses. "I thought you agreed with me." "I do." She protests, giving him a fearful glance. "I do agree." "Then why haven’t you gotten his mind off of her?" "I broke them up." She points out defensively. "That was over a month ago." His voice is dark, she shivers. "Have you done anything since then? No. You haven’t even spoken to him! Damn little rabbit…" "I’m not a rabbit!" the absurdity of the insult shocks her, and she’s reminded suddenly of her favorite Tori Amos song. "Hiding, twitching… seems rabbit-like to me." "I’m not hiding." "You are. If you weren’t, you’d have done as I told you by now, and made Mulder like you again. He did once, so there’s no reason for him not to now that he hasn’t gotten a girlfriend anymore." "But Spender, things are different now!" She wails, almost loud enough to wake her grandmother. Spender gives her a look she can’t read. "Not as different as they’re going to be." He fades into the shadows again a couple of minutes later, leaving her still cowering on her bed. For the millionth time she wonders what he really wants of her, and why he came back again, once they’d thought him gone for good. The difference is this time she’s the only one who sees him. ** Tuesday morning "I don’t want to look." Scully says as Skinner attempts to steer her towards the bulletin boards. "You have to." He insists. Sighing, she goes up to the board and finds the boldfaced word "Hero." Then she looks back at him with a frown. "I didn’t get a part." Skinner, meanwhile, has been looking at the rest of the cast list. "Yeah you did." "No, Katie Greenwood got Hero." Scully corrects him, grumpily. "I didn’t say you got Hero, I said you got a part." "Which one?" She asks, still feeling gloomy. "Beatrice." Skinner happily tells her. "I’ve always thought she was the coolest female role in the play." "Really? I’m Beatrice? I’ve always liked her character, too. Who got Benedick?" "You don’t want to know." Skinner says quickly. When she tries to look, he covers the name with his hand. "Let me see!" She demands, batting his hand away. He reluctantly drops his hand, she wishes he hadn’t. Benedick: Krycek Valentine "This is not happening!" Scully moans. Skinner pats her on the back. "At least the animosity between your characters won’t be feigned." He says brightly, not daring to mention how the play ends. "And I’ll be there in case he’s a jerk. "This is going to be the worse production of Much Ado About Nothing ever." She says dramatically, making him wonder if it’s a prediction or a vow. ** Thursday 4pm Capeside High Stage Three girls sitting in the front row while they wait for their minor parts in a party scene make eyes at Krycek, but he doesn’t notice because he’s looking at Scully. She’s not thrilled by that, but since it’s a scene they have together in act one she can’t make any reasonable objections. The quips are kind of fun, she thinks. "I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you." She says as Beatrice. "What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?" Krycek looks mockingly surprised, which earns him a titter from the girls in the front row. "Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence." The girls glare at Scully, who has to hide her grin; at least she’s getting a reaction from someone if not the director. Predictably Krycek is his pet. Krycek opens his mouth to say his next line, but instead dives forward and knocks Scully off her feet. Her eyes wide with furious shock, she thinks to scream at him from her landing place on the floor. But then she hears a tremendous crash. One of the stage lights is now shattered where she’d been standing moments before. "Are you ok?" Krycek asks, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. Still shaken, she lets him help her up instead of snapping at him or batting his hand away. Meanwhile the director is shouting for someone to find the janitor. After a few minutes of the director and janitor scrambling to clean things up, while the shell-shocked cast sits and watches, the show rehearsal goes on. "Take it from the last line, please." The director instructs. "Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence." Scully repeats nervously, barely resisting the urge to look up at the remaining lights. "Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none." "A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me." Scully retorts. "God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face." Krycek crows. "I knew I picked the right people for Beatrice and Benedick. I could tell by the way they were fighting before the auditions." The director mumbles, but not as softly as he’d intended to. "Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were." "Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher." "A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours." "I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's name; I have done." Krycek quips to laughter. The laugher stops abruptly when a sinister cackling fills the room. Everyone on stage and off looks around for the source, while the director squawks about the sound cues. Skinner and another boy come onto the stage and protest that they haven’t touched the sound board yet, so don’t blame them for the noise. Not believing them the director tromps up on stage and goes to look at the sound board for himself. It’s not turned on. But the cackling has stopped too. Skinner gives Scully a nervous look when the director storms back declaring the rehearsal to be over, and that he didn’t ask for this, he wishes no one ever made him department head if he was going to have to deal with plays like this one. "Scully… I think you should tell Mulder about this." Skinner says as they file out. "Yeah you should." Krycek adds. Scully glares at him. "Hey, isn’t your boyfriend the one who figured out who was making the animals act crazy last year?" The girl playing Margaret asks suddenly. "I remember that." Another boy says. "Tim from my bio class was the kid who got bit by the squirrels. You should ask your boyfriend about this." "He’s not my boyfriend." Scully declares. "We broke up." "You should still talk to him about this." "Yeah, this is weird. I bet he’d have ideas." Feeling overwhelmed, Scully wants to tell them to leave her alone, but she’s shaken by the botched rehearsal too, so she knows where they’re coming from. It doesn’t make it any easier, though. ** Friday 7pm Leary home Grimacing slightly because of the smell of dirty diapers emanating from the bag, Mulder carries it out to the curb as quickly as he can. He didn’t mind the chore half as much before his brother was born; as much as he loves Price, the kid can make quite a stink. Just as he sets the bag down, his flashlight goes out. It’s so perfectly dark that he can’t even see his house, so he shakes and taps it, hoping that it’ll spring back to life. It does, just in time for him to be attacked by a monster. "Ah!" he cries as he’s thrown completely off balance. Swaying perilously, he comes very close to landing on the bag of garbage, but he twists away at the last second, and lands on his butt in the snow instead. "God, Mulder, what’s wrong with you?" A familiar voice asks. Shining the now active light on the figure before him, Mulder sees that it isn’t a monster at all. It’s Scully. "Yeah, you sneak up on me in the dark and ask what’s wrong with ME?" He snaps, before he remembers he wants to get back on her good side again. "It wasn’t so dark before your flashlight went out." She points out. "And I wasn’t so much sneaking as walking from the opposite direction where I parked my car. Are your parents having a party? Your driveway is full." "My Mom’s book club is meeting." Mulder tells her as he finishes brushing the snow off his pants. "Why are you here?" She cautiously answers his question with another. "Is it ok that I’m here?" Mulder doesn’t know. "I guess." He finally says. The flashlight’s weak beam offers enough illumination to make the fact that she’s obviously cold, and something at the back of his mind tells him that he ought to invite her in. He ignores it, however, because he already knows that whatever her reason is for visiting, it has nothing to do with making up, and he’ll get more nosy questions from his mother than he can bear. "What’s up?" "You know I’m in a play, right?" Scully asks. "Yeah, Reyes told me." He says, confirming Scully’s suspicions that Reyes is meddling. "Well…"She trails off hesitantly, leaving him to wonder why. "There have been strange things happening during the rehearsals." "What kind of strange?" He asks, wondering if Krycek has been bothering her. The fact that the other boy plays opposite her in the production has not escaped his notice. "Your sort of strange." Scully says, her cheeks turning pinker than the cold has already made them. He wonders if he should be flattered or insulting that he has a ‘kind’ of strange. "Lights flickering on and off, one light actually fell on the stage, sound cues getting messed up, props going missing…and a really weird laugher echoing though the stage." Scully inventories the events of the past two days. The rehearsal earlier in the day hadn’t gone much better than the one before. "Sounds like someone is amusing themselves by playing pranks." He tells her, his mind still on Krycek. "You don’t think it sounds like a ghost or anything?" "You don’t believe in ghosts." He points out, sounding puzzled. "I don’t, but…"She shrugs. "Everyone else seems to, and you can’t reason with everyone." "But you’re here because…"He prompts her. She squirms as she explains. "Because they know you dig that sort of thing, and I was drafted to ask for your help." Mulder frowns in the darkness away from the flashlight’s beam. It seems unfair to him that she’s completely unwilling to give him a second chance, yet still wants his help with things. Still, it is a step forward… "When’s your next practice?" "After school Monday." Scully sounds less embarrassed. "I still think it’s someone messing with you guys, but I’ll come and see what happens. Ok?" "Great, everyone will be so pleased." It’s only after she’s gone that he lets himself wonder if she’s pleased too. ** Saturday after the lunch rush The Ice House Looking up from the table she’s clearing, Scully notices that Reed is only taking half-hearted swipes at the counter he’s cleaning. She expects him to begin sighing deeply any second now. "So… you look depressed. What gives?" "You remember Chris, right?" She does have a fairly clear mental picture of the short skinny lead singer for Money Grubbing Communists. "I think you might have brought him by a time or two." She teases him. When his eyes cloud over, she wishes she hadn’t. "He told me he met someone new." Reed says, finally sighing. "I’m sorry." "Yeah… Looks like you and I have something in common now, though." "What’s that?" "You know, facing Valentines Day alone." She thinks of correcting him, but stops. Chagrined, she realizes that she is going to be alone on Valentines Day, and it’s all her own fault. And Mulder’s. "Oh well, we’ll just have to wear black and listen to the Smiths." She tells him, managing the faintest of smiles. ** Monday 5pm Capeside High "So? What do you think is going on?" Skinner asks Mulder. Skinner’s eyes are wide because this practice was interrupted when a can of blue paint came sailing from back stage and landed in the middle of a scene with a splash. "It’s a ghost, isn’t it?" Krycek asks. "I know you people were talking about a ghost when we went on that hike last May." "Hey! How did you know that?" Mulder demands to know with a glower. "We talked about that before we decided we wouldn’t kill you for joining us. You were at least 50 feet away still." "I can’t help it if I have good hearing." Krycek protests. "Nice avoidance tactic, Mulder. You still haven’t said what you think is going on." Skinner complains. Mulder gives them a level look. "I think someone is messing with you." "Someone like a ghost, right?" Krycek prompts. "Or maybe an evil spirit." "Someone like a human being. Like Skinner or I." He smirks when Krycek picks up on the implication of what he’s said. "You’re not serious." Skinner says with a faint smile. "Now tell us what you really think is going on." "I think that someone is messing with you. I don’t think this has anything to do with the supernatural at all." The look Skinner and Krycek give him is one of such great disappointment that he’s tempted to change his mind and tell them maybe it’s Casper after all, but he really doesn’t think it’s the work of anything but a plain old flesh and blood person. "Well, thanks for coming to the practice." Skinner says, sounding awkward. "Yeah, no problem. I’m sure you’ll figure out who is behind it soon." They nod, but the second he leaves they wonder aloud if he’s losing his touch. ** That night Leary home "Mama, Dada, S’m, ‘Der!" Mulder laughs as he watches his father play with Price. The baby is on Mitch’s lap, and he’s helping him point at people to name while they wait for dinner to be ready. Gale gives them a quick smile, but she’s got her hands full, so she doesn’t really join the game. "Boy, you’re smart Price." Sam tells him, reach over to tickle him, which sets him giggling. "You got every one right." "Uh oh." Mitch stands suddenly. "Someone needs a diaper change, right away." Price just grins at them, and if Mulder didn’t know better, he’d think the baby was pleased with himself. He’s still grinning as Mitch whisks him away. "Mulder, would you keep an eye on the potatoes? I need to get something out of the freezer downstairs." "Sure, Mom." He replies, and Sam mouths a hopeful "pie?" as their mother leaves the room. Mulder shrugs. "Have you ever heard of bloody Mary?" Sam asks as he peers down into the pot on the stove. "Oh no, not you too." "Not me too what? What’d I do?" She pouts. "Skinner and Krycek are convinced that there’s a ghost haunting their play." "Well, is there?" "I don’t think so. I keep trying to tell them that it’s probably someone playing a joke on them, but no one believes me." "It is kind of odd for you. I mean, everyone knows you believe in ghosts, so why are you saying it’s not a ghost?" "Just because I believe in ghosts doesn’t mean I have to think everything weird that happens is because of ghosts." Mulder points out. "This just doesn’t seem like ghosts." "Funny, though, you being the one to doubt the unexplained, though." Sam tells him. "and here I thought I was the only one with any sense." When their mother returns with the pie, Sam is running around the table to escape Mulder, who’s still trying to swat her in retaliation. Since they’re both laughing, she ignores them, and shoves a pie in the oven. ** Two weeks later Capeside High stage 5:45pm People are frantically scurrying around, trying desperately to get into their costumes. Several half-dressed people are nearly hysterical because their hair or makeup seems "wrong! All wrong!" suddenly. Scully ignores them and calmly puts on her own costume. The rehearsals have gone well, disruptions not withstanding, and she’s feeling pretty good about opening night. She’s also more than half thankful that there are only going to be three showings, since it taking up a month of her life so far is more than enough for her. Everything, besides the panic of getting dressed, seems to be going fine. At least until a chilling laugh swells up. Several people stop talking in mid-complaint, and most people look at each other. "Bwa-hahahaha!!!!" Skinner catches Krycek's eye, but very few people notice that they’ve left their former positions. "Bwaha- Ack! Get off of me!" Everyone looks puzzled, but there’s more yelping and the sounds of a scuffle. Finally a figure, wrapped about the middle with one of the veils from the last act, is dragged out onto the stage by a triumphant looking Skinner and Krycek. "So…did anyone want to say anything to our ‘ghost’?" Krycek asks with a sneer. Several people shout questions, most of which are difficult for the culprit to answer, given they’re about his character. Scully stares at the boy, whom she recalls was someone who tried out for the part of Claudio, in mild wonder. She’d begun to half believe that people were right, and the play was haunted. She isn’t sure how she feels about it just being a boy after all…just like Mulder insisted. "You know, though." Skinner tells Krycek as soon as the boy is no longer their problem. "Mulder is going to be insufferable when he finds out that he was right." "Aww…everyone gets to be right once." Krycek replies in a condescending tone, but he’s smiling. ** Capeside High stage 8pm After the "ghost" was removed by the vice-principal, the play went off without a hitch. Scully gets through the play by pretending that her sister, her nephew, and her friends are sitting there in the audience watching her. Skinner asked Mulder to come, and a tiny part of her is glad he’s there, if only because he’d helped them solve the mystery. The play lopes along like an excited puppy, and at last they get to the last act, in which Claudio agrees to marry Hero’s "cousin" and is shocked, but thrilled, to learn that the woman he’s marrying is his lost love. Once the happy pair are married, it’s time for one of Scully and Krycek’s biggest scenes. He looks at the still shrouded women. "Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice?" He asks. Scully throws off the veil. "I answer to that name. What is your will?" "Do not you love me?" "Why, no; no more than reason." Scully reluctantly replies, completely in character, fortunately. "Why, then your uncle and the prince and Claudio have been deceived; they swore you did." Krycek affects a surprised tone. "Do not you love me?" "Troth, no; no more than reason." He replies, turning her words back upon her. "Why, then my cousin Margaret and Ursula are much deceived; for they did swear you did." "They swore that you were almost sick for me." Krycek retorts. "They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me." Scully looks mirthful. "'Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?" His hurt is obviously pretend, but maybe under the surface it’s a real answer he’s looking for. "No, truly, but in friendly recompense." Scully declares primly. "Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman." Leonato admonishes. The boy playing Claudio brandishes a slip of paper" And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her; For here's a paper written in his hand, A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, Fashion'd to Beatrice." "And here's another Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, Containing her affection unto Benedick." The play’s Hero adds, picking her cousin’s pocket for another paper. "A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity." Krycek proclaims with a smile. "I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion; and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption." Scully retorts. "Peace! I will stop your mouth." Krycek exclaims, kissing Scully. ** Sitting in the audience, Mulder grinds his fingernails into the palms of his hands. He knows that the kiss is just a stage one, but it doesn’t look like it. And Scully doesn’t look terribly unhappy about having to kiss Krycek. Maybe it’s right for her to kiss him, or some other boy. Maybe they’re not really meant to get back together. The maybes keep him from realizing that his hands hurt until they’re more than a dull ache. Glancing at his palms, he sees the weeping red crescents, and stuffs his hands into his pockets. He’s gone before any of the actors leave the stage. Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: AFI ("Silver and Cold") 3 Days Grace ("I Hate Everything About You ") And Travis ("Re-Offender") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 31 Mister Sandman Summary: Desperation forces Scully to work with Mulder to discover the reason why no kids, including her nephew and Price, are sleeping. Opening Scene On his way back from a middle of the night bathroom visit, Mulder pauses in the hallway. At first he’d chalked it up to his sleepy mind imaging it, but there was definitely someone talking in Price’s room. He pushes the door open, and is hardly surprised to see his brother standing in his crib, holding on for dear life, which is typical since he can’t quite stand on his own yet. What is surprising is that Price is chanting, or doing a baby’s approximation of a chant, anyway. "Out…out…out…out…" "Hey, what are you doing awake?" Mulder asks, glancing at the glow-in-the-dark face of the nursery clock. It’s nearly 3am. "Out!" "Aren’t you tired?" Though Mulder himself is yawning, Price looks wide-awake. "No." It’s unclear to Mulder if the baby is answering his question, or just felt like saying the word. He knows his brother understands more language than he can say, but not how much more. Mulder yawns again. "It’s bedtime." If Price understands that he gives no indication. Instead he braces his chest against the crib rail and holds out his arms to Mulder. "Pwease?" Though he’s tempted to take him out and let him play, he knows it’s a bad idea. "Sorry, Buddy. It’s time to sleep." Mulder picks him up and puts him on his back. Unimpressed, Price practices one of his new skills. Pouting. Which suits Mulder better than having an object propel itself at him unexpectedly, which occasionally happens when Price’s will is thwarted. "Out." Price whimpers, staring up at him. "What’s up?" Mr. Leary asks, making Mulder jump out of his skin. Nearly. "I heard you talking." "Price thinks it’s time to get up." Mulder explains, yawning yet again. "Ok, you go back to bed. I’ll try to reason with the munchkin." "See ya, then." ** Theme song – "Stranded" By Plumb ** 7am, Tuesday Potter home "Bessie, are you feeling ok?" Bessie’s eyes are bloodshot and it looks as though making toast requires a great deal of effort. She looks weary as she answers. "Alex decided last night that sleeping is an optional activity. He work me by playing loudly in his room. Which is what he’s still doing since I couldn’t get him back to sleep." "That sucks." Scully sounds sympathetic, but she’s also thinking that she’s grateful that his room isn’t near hers. "Yeah, well, he better not pull that again, or I’m going to sell him to gypsies before he gets too old to bring in a good price." "Boy, remind me not to keep you up all night." "You better not." Bessie growls. "Unless you like the idea of being sold into white slavery." ** Capeside High Art class While art isn’t the favorite class of most of the people there, the fact that they’re allowed to talk sweetens the experience. Mulder sits at a table at the back of the room with Reyes and Fowley. If Scully was talking to him, he might have qualms about sitting with Fowley, but since she isn’t – much- it’s nice to sit with people who are. They’re trying to work on their collages amidst a chorus of yawns. "Does everyone seem extra tired to you today?" Mulder comments. "Not everyone, but a lot of people." Fowley replies. Reyes looks up from gluing buttons onto a supermodel’s head. "Maybe Alexander wasn’t the only kid keeping people up last night. Scully said her sister was threatening to sell people if they robbed her of sleep again." Mulder feels a pang of envy. It used to be that he’d be the one to hear something like that. "That’s funny, Price was up at 3am this morning, too." Reyes’ face softens, she adores his brother, as most girls do. "Aww, was he sick?" "Nope. He was begging to be released from the imprisonment of his crib." She rolls her eyes, but chuckles. "I bet you were just like him as a baby. At least we’re not experiencing sleepless nights." Fowley frowns. "Speak for yourself. I started to have trouble sleeping after… after we found Spender." He voice drops to a whisper on the last word. "Wow…are you still having trouble sleeping?" Reyes asks. "That was July…" "Nah. I began sleeping better in December. But not every night." "Hey." Mulder thinks of something. "I bet if you did a survey of the people who look dead on their feet, eighty percent of them have little brothers or sisters." "Interesting theory." Reyes remarks. "But could we get extra credit for such a survey? Maybe for social studies?" Mulder and Fowley shrug. ** Leary Home Thursday afternoon "What do you think of this?" Mulder asks, sliding his collage across Sam’s desk. "Pretty neat. I like how you used fabric and paper both." Wisely, she doesn’t ask him what it is. It’s a sunflower on a blue background, at least in his mind, but it seems a little abstract to everyone else. "Thanks! I knew if someone would know if it was any good, it’d be you." Sam gives him shyly proud look after that. "My opinion is worth that much?" "You are the family artist." Mulder tells her, pointing at the drawing of tiger cubs she’s working on." "You’d already claimed photography by the time I’d come along." She tells him with a smirk. "That’s ok, this is more fun." "Looks hard to me… Hey Sam, you asked me a while back if I knew about Bloody Mary-" "And you said ‘Oh no, not you too’ so I dropped it." "Then we got distracted by pie-" "Mmmmm, pie." He rolls his eyes; Weebl and Bob have been performing on her computer quite frequently lately. "But I meant to ask you why you wanted to know." "Oh. Some of the girls at school said that if you look in a the mirror and say ‘Bloody Mary’ three time, she’ll show up in the mirror and get you." "That’s the legend I’ve heard too." "I won’t do it, so they think I’m chicken." "Nothing really happens when you do that, you know." "I know, but…" "And what do you care if some girls from school think you’re chicken?" He asks, thinking it’s a sensible question. Sam sighs, and gives him a look that confirms he will never, not ever, understand the motivations of teenage girls. ** Potter home Saturday 11pm "Go to sleep, Alex." "No! I’m not tired." Alexander insists, giving her a defiant, and wide-awake stare. Perching on the end of his little twin bed, Scully wonders what keeps Bessie from throttling him when he acts up this way. Bessie is out with a friend for a rare girls night, and Scully has been trying to get Alexander to go to sleep for the past two hours. He has twice as much energy as she does, and she’s worried that she’ll fall asleep before he does. "Did you sleep last night?" He shakes his head, making his dark curls bounce. "All done with sleeping." "For how long?" She asks, thinking he’s being silly. "Forever!" He declares, jumping up onto the bed. "Don’t gotta sleep no more." "Of course you have to sleep! Everyone has to sleep, that’s the way our bodies work. If we didn’t sleep we’d be all weak and tired." She decides not to mention ‘and die’ since he’s not quite four, and has a fuzzy concept of death anyway. "I didn’t sleep last night." He points out. "You look sleepier than me." "I am, Alex. You wear me out." He stares at her in alarm. "What?" "Mommy said I can’t wear my sponge bob shirt no more ‘cause it all worn out, and fallin’ apart. You’re not gonna fall apart too, are you Auntie Scully?" "Nu…Yes. If you don’t try to go to sleep, I might fall apart, all over your floor. Then no more Auntie." "Oh no! I’ll go bed now!" He says, sounding shocked. To her amusement he scrambles into bed, and she’s glad that she’d at least been able to get him into his PJs before he declared that he wasn’t go to bed. "Night, Alex." "Night!" As she clicks off his light, she wonders if Bessie will be amused or upset about how she answered his question. Knowing her sister, she’s betting on amused. ** Lindley home 1am Things happen in a pattern. She goes downstairs, pours a cup of water for her pill, takes it. Goes up to the bathroom, washes her face, brushes her teeth, and goes back to her room. As always, he’s there, waiting for her. "Hello, Rabbit." "I’m not a rabbit." "Forgot my carrots. Forgot my tea set too." She gives Spender a puzzled look. "Tea set?" "To read the leaves." "What for?" Fowley climbs onto her bed and pulls the covers over her, hoping that this time he might get the hint and leave. It doesn’t work. Never does. "I want you to build something." She waits for him to go on, and eventually he does. "A walrus." "A what?" "Badger?" He sounds uncertain. "Ok, I’m supposed to build a walrus. Or a badger. Out of what?" "Umbrellas." She lets her head skin into her pillow. "Go away, Spender, you don’t make any sense." "Two for a penny, three for a nickel." Groaning, she sits up, pillow in hand to throw at him, but he’s already gone. She doesn’t know how he left, she’s just glad he did. ** Leary home 3am Finally ready to call it a night, Mulder turns off his computer and cd player. Once he does, he realizes that he can still hear something. Singing. Blinking in wonder, Mulder wanders towards the source of the noise, which is rather odd for this time of the night, even if it is the weekend. Mister Sandman, bring me a dream Make him the cutest that I've ever seen Give him two lips like roses and clover Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over The door to Price’s room is barely open, and he peers in, completely unnoticed. Sandman, I'm so alone Don't have nobody to call my own Please turn on your magic beam Mister Sandman, bring me a dream With Price on her hip, Gale dances the two of them about the room, enthusiastically singing the Emmylou Harris version of the song, the one that’s about a man, instead of a woman. Mister Sandman, bring me a dream Make him the cutest that I've ever seen Give him the word that I'm not a rover Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over Mulder grins broadly, watching his mother attempt to get Price to sleep. Unfortunately for her, Price isn’t having any of it. He looks gleeful and entirely too awake as their mother finishes the song. Mister Sandman, bring me a dream Give him a pair of eyes with a come hither gleam Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci And lots of wavy hair like Liberace Mister Sandman, someone to hold Would be so peachy before we're too old Sp please turn on your magic beam Mister Sandman, bring us Please, please, please Mister Sandman, bring us a dream "No luck, huh Mom?" Mulder asks, breaking the spell. "Mulder!" She gasps. "How long were you standing there?" "Long enough to remember when you used to sing to me when I was a little boy. Boy, that was a long time ago." "I stopped because you became a critic, and told me I sang terribly." Gale says, not looking upset. "Even at three you knew what you liked." Price, on the other hand, looks astonished when she puts him back in his crib. "Well, your voice has improved since then." He laughs. "What are you going to do about him?" "I made an appointment with his pediatrician for tomorrow. Over the phone he advised me not to worry if he didn’t look run down. I get the feeling he only made the appointment to humor me. Baby doctors probably take classes in humoring their patients parents." "Yeah…"He sees that Price is pouting again. "You’ve got to sleep some time, kid." "Out!" "Go back to bed, Mulder. Since we can’t get him to go to sleep with help, I’m just going to leave him in his crib and hope he gets bored enough to lie down and sleep on his own." "Won’t he cry?" "Probably. He has to learn that he can’t always get what he wants, though." "Ouch. Such a painful lesson." Back in his room, Mulder smiles to himself when he thinks that it’s a good thing that Price can’t levitate anything heavier than a stuffed animal, or he might try to use his skill to get out of his crib. Not that, with crawling as his locomotion of choice, he could reach the doorknob. Humming his mother’s song, Mulder crawls back into bed. Almost asleep, he bolts up when a strange idea occurs to him. It’s impossible, yet… ** The Ice House Sunday 11:30am Price never did go to sleep, and he did cry to show his unhappiness at being alone, so Mulder is drafted to go buy lunch; his yawning parents swore they’d set the house on fire if they tried to cook. Since everyone is hungry as well as tired, eight burgers and fries seems like a good choice, so he swings by the Ice House, half wondering who’s working that day. Scully is at the counter, and she gives him a look that’s half-polite, half-wary. Before he thinks better of it, he blurts out. "You look terrible." "Thanks." "Sorry. It’s just, you look like my parents. Let me guess, Alex isn’t sleeping either, right?" "Why won’t they sleep?" She groans. "They’ve been awake for days, isn’t that supposed to kill you or something? I got Alex to lie down for about an hour last night, but he was up again right after that." "You probably don’t want my theory." Mulder tells her. "Oh go ahead and tell me. I’m tired enough to have an open mind." Thrilled that they’re having a real conversation, Mulder is slightly hesitant to tell her about the idea he’d had hours before. But eventually his eagerness to share the thought gets the best of him. "Way early this morning, My mom was singing that Mister Sandman song to Price, trying to get him to go to sleep. He didn’t, of course, but it made me think… what if there’s something wrong with the Sandman?" "What Sandman?" Scully asks, giving him a blank look. "You know, the Sandman. Sprinkles sleepy dust on little kids eyes to make them sleep…ring any bells?" "Yeah, that’s something from cartoons." "What if he’s real? It wouldn’t be out of keeping with the rest of the strange things that happen in this town-" "Ok." "Ok what?" He gives her a puzzled look. "Ok I’ll go with you to look for him." When he looks shocked, she adds, "This town is pretty friggin weird, so who knows, maybe he is real. I’m willing to try anything at this point. Tell me when and where, and I’m there." "Tonight at midnight?" He ventures. "And bring Alex with you." "What? Why?" "I’ve got a gut feeling that we’ll have better luck if we bring him and Price along. I’m not sure why, but…" "You want to follow your hunch. Ok, if Bessie falls asleep, I’ll bring him with us." "Great. See you tonight." He pauses. "Oh yeah… I need eight hamburgers and four orders of fries." "Now you tell me." She does her best to sound put out, but there’s an excited sparkle in her eyes. He’s sure that she misses their adventures as much as he has. ** Leary home 11:35pm Mitch and Gale must be delirious with their lack of sleep, since they immediately take up Mulder’s offer to entertain Price downstairs so they can get some sleep. Sam is at a sleep-over so things are a little out of routine anyway, so maybe that makes them more accepting of another challenge to the status quo. "… I don’t have school tomorrow, so I’ll just stay up watching movies." Mulder offers, watching the two of them fight to keep their eyes open. "That’s nice of you, son." Mitch tells him, yawning sleepily, and stumbling up the stairs. Price, from his baby swing, gives Mulder a look that asks ‘now what?’ but Mulder really puts on a movie, in case they come back downstairs. When they don’t after fifteen or twenty minutes he sneaks up to their room and listens. They’ve both snoring. Grinning to himself, he dashes into Price’s room for his current favorite blankie and the new baby blue hoody that Gale thought the baby just had to have. He’s still struggling to get the sweatshirt on his brother when there’s a knock on the door. Alex is holding Scully’s hand very tightly, and he looks very excited. Once Mulder joins them, blanket wrapped baby in arms, he comments on Alex’s new sneakers. "Wow, I used to have light up sneakers like that once too." "You did?" Alex seems awed, probably because Mulder is still one of his favorite people, no matter what Scully’s feelings. "Sure did. I bet you’ll be a big help lighting the way." "It’s a good thing that we have tomorrow off." Scully says as Mulder begins to lead the way. Her flashlight is much more illuminating than Alex’s sneakers, but neither of them have the heart to tell him that since he’s taking path lighting very seriously. "Where are we going anyway, Mulder?" "After lunch I got on the Internet and looked up the Sandman-" "And you were able to find references that didn’t pertain to that bore Gainman? I’m shocked." "I was too. Boy, the comics must be better than his novels… anyway, from what I was able to learn, the Sandman is one of the fey." "He’s a fairy? No wings, though." Scully points out. "Guess they don’t all fly." Mulder shrugs, which makes him have to shift his grip on Price’s wiggly little body, so he decides not to do that again. "But being a fairy, he probably likes living in the woods." ** "Mulder! We can’t wander the woods all night!" "Why not?" Alex asks. "Woods are fun." "See, I thought of that." Mulder sighs theatrically. "So I narrowed it down to the most likely spot. Sparkle Point." "Wow, it’s been years since we’ve been there. You do know, though, that the rocks there only glow because there’s laced with phosphorous, right? It’s why that grave stone up in Portsmouth, New Hampshire glows in the dark too. No fairy dust involved." "No one likes a science geek." Mulder teases. "I know why Sparkle Point glows, but I think it might be just the sort of thing a fairy might get a kick out of." "Ah, like crows and shiny objects." Alex stops dead, making Scully stumble. "I don’t wanna see a crow." "We’re not going to see a crow, I promise." Scully tells him. "All the crows are sleeping. Why your Mommy let you see that movie, I’ll never know." "The Crow?" Mulder guesses. "No, The Birds." "Good Lord." "Lud! Lud!" Price attempts to mimic. "Stop the world, I want to get off." Scully mutters as Price continues to chant and Alex goes into detail about what other birds he doesn’t want to see, either, which makes Mulder think of nasty ducks. Scully looks more miserable, though, her lack of bird fears aside. If things were different between the two of them, Mulder would have given her a reassuring hug, but they’re not so he doesn’t. ** It’s fortunate that Sparkle point isn’t too far from Mulder’s house, because already Alex is getting tired of walking, and Price seems to have doubled his weight. At last the four of them reach the strangely glowing rocks. He has a moment to reflect on all the time he, Doggett and Scully had played there as very young children before everyone demands that he tell them what to do next. Or Scully does, anyway. Alex and Price don’t seem to care. "Now what?" Scully asks. Resisting the urge to shrug, Mulder calls out. "Hello? Mister Sandman? We’ve got two very awake kids here that really need some sleep!" "Oh, like that is going to work." Scully scoffs. Alex, on the other hand, thinks that Mulder is hysterical. "You’re so funny. We don’t ever have to sleep again!" "Too bad everyone else has to sleep." "Yah, too bad!" Alex giggles. "Bad ‘Der." Price agrees. Mulder would have been shocked that his ten-month-old brother had just strung two words purposefully together, except something else even more astonishing grabbed his attention. "What do you want?" A cranky voice asks, behind them. They turn around, and see a man standing there. He’s wearing a long, red stocking cap, and a long night shirt that looks like it’s cotton with vertical tan and red bars on it. A red velvet bag is lashed about his waist with a silky cord. If it’s not the Sandman, they don’t know who he is. Mulder and Scully exchange a look. They don’t know what to say. ** Luckily, Alex takes this in stride, and speaks up for them. "Are you the Sandman?" "Yup, that’s me." "You don’t look sleepy." Alex accuses. "My mommy says the Sandman is sleepy and he yawns a lot." The Sandman nods. "Usually I am. But I’ve been drinking a lot of coffee lately." That response satisfies Alex, but not Mulder. "But why?" "To stay awake, of course." "We stay awake too." Alex informs him, and Price gurgles what could almost be an agreement. "Don’t gotta sleep no more." "Well, of course you do." The Sandman says, giving the boy an indulgent look. "All people sleep." "Not me! I haven’t slept for a year!" "A week." Scully corrects. "But it feels like a year." "Not really." The Sandman insists. "Yes really. My baby brother hasn’t slept since Monday night either." The Sandman sits on a pile of the glowing rocks, modestly tucking his night shirt along his legs. "Oh dear. Is it just these two who haven’t been sleeping?" "Judging by the crankiness of most adults and older kids lately, I’d say no kid in Capeside under the age of ten has slept all this week." Mulder says, and Scully nods vigorously in agreement. "I thought the position was largely ceremonial…"The Sandman murmured. "This won’t do at all. I never thought…" "Why haven’t you been visiting the kids?" Scully asks, which surprises Mulder. She’s taking the whole ‘the Sandman is real’ thing pretty well in his opinion. There’s hope for her yet. "Well, last week was my two hundredth birthday, and one of my friends gave me a DVD player. Wonderful thing, DVD players. I discovered the most wonderful show on DVD and I bought all the seasons of it. I guess I sort of let watching this show take over, and shirked my duties, I’m afraid." Curiosity gets the best of Mulder. "What show?" "Sex and The City. Have you ever seen it?" "No… We don’t have HBO." Mulder tells him, which is true, but not why he’s never seen the show. Really, he was expecting the man’s answer to be something like M*A*S*H or StarTrek:TNG. "Ah. You should see it some time. It’s wonderful. Too wonderful." He stands up. "Guess I better get back to work. Shall I start with these boys?" "No!" Alex and Price cry. "God yes." Mulder and Scully tell him. ** "Sorry boys, it’s bed time." He reaches for the bag at his waist and loosens it enough to stick his hand in. "The sand’s rather pretty, though, don’t you think?" Neither of the little ones can drag their eyes away from the sparkling sand held flat on his palm, even when the Sandman bends to blow it gently in their eyes. Giving little sighs, they quickly fall asleep, Alex sagging against Scully’s legs, and Price suddenly drooling on Mulder’s shoulder. "It was really nice meeting you." He tells Mulder and Scully. "I guess I needed a wake up call. I think I better be going, I’ve got a lot of home to visit." "Wait, before you go." Mulder stops him. "Where do you live?" He’s been trying to figure out where the Sandman could possibly keep his DVD player. "Normally the fey aren’t supposed to show humans something like that, but since you brought this matter to my attention before I got written up by the council, I’ll make an exception just this once." He blows some more of the dust, this time into their own eyes. "Don’t worry, it only puts kids to sleep. But it helps older people see what they do." They blink a few times, then they can see a cheery little cottage about three hundred feet away from where they’re standing. They must have gone right past it earlier in the night. "Why didn’t we bump into it when we went through here?" Scully asks critically. The Sandman gives her and indulgent smile. "There are some things that don’t exist within the bounds of the scientific, and me and my home are two of them. Have a safe walk home." When they blink again, he’s gone, and the cottage fades a little more from view with each blink that dislodges the sand from their eyes. "Hey, I think we’d better swap kids. Alex is too heavy for you to lug all the way home." Mulder hefts Alex from the ground, and Scully cuddles Price. Neither boy seems to care who is carrying them, they’re more or less dead to the world. Even still, Mulder and Scully don’t say anything as they walk home, and it’s only half out of fear of breaking the Sandman’s spell. Once they get to Scully’s door, though, Mulder decides to brave an attempt at conversation. "Wild, huh? I’ve really missed this. The adventures, I mean." "Me too." She agrees, suddenly looking wistful. "Maybe we’ll find more adventures." Mulder suggests hopefully. "That’d be nice." She opens the door quietly. "Good-night, Mulder." "Night." Walking the rest of the way home, he wonders if tonight could be considered a break-through. They’d spent more than an hour together, not fighting. It’s a start. ** Potter Home Monday Morning The sounds of snappy pop music lead Scully to believe that everything is well in the house once again. Bessie is singing along to the radio as she dances around the counters, cleaning them. Scully’s giggles give her away. "Having a good morning?" "It’s a wonder what a difference a good night’s sleep makes." Bessie tells her cheerfully. "Is he still asleep?" "He’s sleeping like a log. I guess this week finally caught up to him." "I’m surprised it didn’t catch up to us, too." "He woke up for a little while ago and told me about a dream he had before he feel back to sleep. That kid’s dreams are as goofy as he is." "How so?" Scully asks, pouring herself a glass of juice. "He said that you, Mulder and Mulder’s brother went and found the Sandman. Of course, he claims it really happened." Bessie laughs. "I know Mulder would probably go for something like that, but you? What a silly kid I’ve got. I think he just misses Mulder." Scully manages not to choke on her juice, and is glad that Bessie decided it was just a dream. "I actually talked to Mulder yesterday. He came by the Icehouse." "Did you get into an argument?" Bessie looks faintly concerned. "Nah. It was a completely civil conversation." "Good." "Why good?" "Just… good." Bessie’s smile is knowing. ** Leary home Monday Afternoon Sam bounds into Mulder’s room, and he holds a finger to his lip. "Shhhh! Price is finally sleeping, you don’t want to wake him, or mom and dad will kill you." "Oh, sorry." She looks contrite. "But I have to tell you what happened at the sleep over." "What happened?" "Ok, so Hannah and Megan said I was too chicken to call for Bloody Mary-" "I thought we talked about how that wasn’t real." Mulder protests. Sam ignores him. "So I said I wasn’t and we all went into the bathroom, with the lights all out. I said ‘ bloody Mary, bloody Mary, bloody Mary, come to me’ and they were all scared and giggly. Then a white face with bloody lips appeared in the mirror-" "What?!" "– and they ran off screaming. It was so funny." Mulder gives her a suspicious look. "You weren’t scared though. All right, what did you do?" "Me? I didn’t do anything." She protests. "Except let Daden in. He’s the one who put on the make up and wig, and hid in the bath tub, behind the half closed shower curtain, until we said the words." He chokes on his laughter. "Oh lord. You are definitely my kid sister." "Was there ever any doubt?" "Nope." Mulder agrees. "Are they mad at you?" "They still think it was real. And by the time they figure it out, they’ll be too embarrassed to say anything about it." "That a girl." ** Lindley home 5pm Grams is sitting in the living room, reading her bible to prep for her Adult Bible study when Fowley hesitantly approaches her. She looks up and sees the apprehensive look on her granddaughter’s face. "What’s wrong, Fowley?" "Do you believe in ghosts?" Puzzled as to why this is so upsetting, she answers cautiously. "I believe that our spirit survives after death, but I’m more inclined to think of it as souls going to heaven." "But can’t they get trapped here, unable to go on?" "I hope not." Fowley’s face crumples. "If there aren’t ghosts, I’m losing my mind." "What do you mean?" "Spender. He keeps coming into the house, and talking to me." "Oh dear." "At first I thought he had to be a ghost, since everyone had seen him before-" "That is unexplainable." Grams mummers to herself. "But… he talks to me, and it makes no sense. None. Maybe he’s not really there, and I’m just going crazy." Grams hugs her. "My poor girl…" "Is there a history of insanity in our family? schizophrenia, maybe?" "I don’t think so." "But that doesn’t mean that there couldn’t be something wrong with me." Fowley insists. "No, it doesn’t. Would you like to see someone? A doctor, I mean." At first Grams thinks that Fowley is going to cry, but she slowly nods her head. "I think that’s a good idea." Her voice is wobbly. Grams gives her at gentle smile. "And if the doctor says there’s no problem, we’ll get a priest to come to the house." Fowley’s laugh is wobbly too. "I love you, Grams. You always know what to do." "Not always. But I try." Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile ** < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Emmylou Harris ("Mister Sandman") REM ("I Don't Sleep, I Dream ") and Kent ("If You Were Here") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 32 Possession I Summary: Mulder and Scully reconcile just in time for the prom...and to be cajoled into being part of the prom committee. Opening scene Mulder rolls his eyes when he sees what his mother has dressed Price in. He didn’t even know such an outfit came in that size. A yellow slicker comes down to Price’s knees and tiny red rain boots go so far up his shins that you can barely tell that he’s wearing pants. Price doesn’t seem impressed by the yellow hat tied to his head, and is busily whining as he tries to pull it off. "Mom…he can’t even walk yet, what does he need boots for?" "He can stand." She replies in a reasonable tone. "So you think that I’m going to carry him outside and stand him in a puddle?" "Mulder, just put your coat on." "Aww, Mom…" "Put it on, Mulder. I want both my little boys dry and warm." She says sweetly. He sighs and grabs his raincoat. At least his is nylon and blue, not yellow or vinyl. "For someone having a favor done, you sure are pushy." He remarks. It wasn’t his idea to take his brother shopping, she’d begged him to, pleading a headache…which seems to be improving already. "That’s how moms are." He’s still frowning as they head for the car. Whoever said that April showers bring May flowers should have been smacked for their irritating enthusiasm. So far the only day it hasn’t rained was his birthday. Gale is watching from the door, so he waits until she closes it to whip the stupid hat off of Price’s head. "That’s better, isn’t it?" Price gives him a toothy smile, so he obviously appreciates the gesture. "I know moms and dads are supposed to know what’s best for their kids…" Mulder trails off, and faces forward in the driver’s seat. Did his parents really know what was best, particularly for this little son of theirs? All at once he can imagine the arguments that he’ll have with them on Price’s behalf when Price is much older. The thought both saddens and scares him. Looking over his shoulder, he says, "But don’t you worry, Brat. Sam and I won’t let them do anything bad to you." When Price squeals his name and claps his hands, Mulder feels better. He throws the car into drive, and they’re off, away from their parents. For half a second, he wonders if this will be a pattern between them, driving away. *** Theme song -" Stranded" By Plumb *** Great Bay Mental Health Wednesday Afternoon There’s a model skull on the desk, three framed diplomas from schools that are either far away or made up, six red books, five yellow books, three green books and eleven blue books in the bookcase, a plant on the window sill, and one doctor who’s staring at Fowley since she isn’t really looking at him. But since he hasn’t said a word to her yet, she’s too nervous to look at him. Finally, he speaks. "When your grandmother made this appointment for you, she mentioned that you were experiencing some difficulties." "Yes. Either my dead boyfriend has been haunting me for the past four months, or I’m going crazy." There. She’s said it. She doesn’t feel much better, though. That’s disappointing. "I see. Let’s talk about when this happens. Is it the same every time, or does something different happen each time?" "It’s the same every time. I see him right before I go to bed." "Ok… Can you describe your pre-bedtime routine, please?" Fowley wants to shout at him that she doesn’t see any point in this, but he’s the trained professional… "I get undressed and put on my PJs. Then I go downstairs and get a glass of water and take my pill. After that I got to the bathroom, brush my teeth, wash my face, and return to my room. And he’s always there, waiting." The doctor nods, so she goes on to explain how she realized that she was crazy. "At first I thought he was breaking into the house but then I realized that he’s always there too quickly-" The doctor cuts her off, seeming not to be very interested in her theory. "You said you take a pill. A pill for what?" "Oh. To help me sleep. I stopped sleeping normally when my friend Reyes and I discovered my boyfriend’s body during the summer." "A sleeping pill?" "Yeah. Ambien." "How long have you been taking it?" "Since the beginning of December." "I see… How long do you think usually passes between the time you swallow the pill and you go into your room for the night?" Feeling very confused, Fowley has trouble figuring that out for a minute. "Ten minutes, maybe?" The doctor nods again, which is beginning to annoy her. "When your MD prescribed Ambien to you, did he explain to you that an usual, but not rare, side affect to that particular drug is hallucinations?" "I think I would have remembered her saying something like that-" Fowley stops to think for a moment. "Wait, do you think that the sleeping pill is causing me to see him?" He gives her a slightly encouraging look. "While I can’t answer that question with certainty at this point, it is a place to start. Is it possible that the drug is causing you to hallucinate that you see him? Undoubtedly. However, we won’t know that for certain until we try stopping the medication and see if you continue to see him or not." "That would be wonderful… but how am I going to sleep without it? The doctor prescribed it because I wasn’t sleeping more than 3 or 4 hours at a time." "Before you leave today, I’ll give you some literature on non-chemical methods of curing insomnia. Something like self-hypnosis often works, but it’s not seen as efficient as medicating, so many MDs don’t explore those possibilities." "That sounds great." It really does. For the first time in months Fowley feels like she might not be losing her mind after all, and it feels wonderful. ** Hallway of Capeside high Friday between 5th and 6th periods "Doggett, do you know what’s coming up?" He gives Reyes a wary glance. She’s looking at him with the same look in her eyes that a cat does right before it pounces on a hapless mouse. "Am I a man or am I a mouse?" He wonders aloud, to her bafflement. Before she can ask him what he means, he asks, "What?" "The prom." "I noticed the posters." He tells her with a slight nod of the head. She looks like she’s expecting him to say more, but he doesn’t to tease her. After letting her stew in a sulky silence for almost a minute, he asks her the question she’s waiting for. "So… this prom, suppose we should go?" Though she tries to match his casual attitude, her eyes give her away. "I think we ought to. They say people who don’t regret it." "Yeah… we wouldn’t want to set ourselves up for a lifetime of regret. I suppose this means that I’m going to have to wear a tux though." "People might point and laugh if you don’t." "Since when am I afraid of pointing and laughing? Maybe I’ll just not wear one to show them that I’m not afraid of a little humiliation." "Doggett-" He can tell she wants to shout at him, but is desperately trying to hold her temper. "But if it were you who wanted me to wear one, I might. I do care what you think." "Please wear one." "You’ve got it. Anything for you, Babe." She raises an eyebrow. "Babe?" "Just trying it out. I don’t think it works. How about Kitten?" "Really anything?" Oh God, he thinks. "Um…" "I think Mulder should ask Scully to the prom." "What is that, ‘rejection is good for the soul’ or some other such trite theory?" "We don’t know that she’d say no." "No, but there’s better chance that she would than saying yes. How about you do something for me. Promise not to interfere." "But Doggett-" "But nothing, Kitten. Match making doesn’t usually lead to anything good. Let’s worry about you and I enjoying the prom, and leave everyone else to sort things out for themselves." Reyes sighs. "I guess…" He throws his arm around her. "That’s a girl. I wonder if they make a patch." "For what?" "To cure people of a match making addiction." She pushes him away, but she doesn’t look too upset. "Right in the isle with the smart ass patches." "What, and rid myself of my best feature?" "The world would weep. And Doggett? Don’t call me Kitten." ** Capeside High Last period Mulder notices that Krycek is sneering in his direction. Deciding that he’d rather get things over with, he asks "What?" "Just lookin’ at these signs, and thinking." Krycek nods in the direction of the signs that Doggett and Reyes had been talking about earlier in the day. "You were thinking? Congratulations, we all had faith in you that you’d form a thought some day." "Funny. I was thinking about who I was going to ask to the prom, actually." "Are you going with Sandy again? You made a nice couple last year." Mulder finds himself saying, though he has no idea how those polite words got into his brain. "Nah. Sandy said she doesn’t want to see me any more. I don’t know why." "She smartened up, apparently. Now she’s only as dumb as a stick. I suppose that’s an improvement over a rock, since a stick is alive." Krycek ignores him. "I was thinking of asking Scully to go with me, actually." Mulder’s eyes widen in surprise. "Are you insane? She can’t stand you! She’d never go to the prom with you." "I don’t know, Mulder, when we were in that play this winter, I think there was chemistry between her and I." "That was a stage kiss." Mulder scoffs. "Sure it was." Krycek laughs and walks away. Frustration builds up in Mulder as thought about that kiss again. An unpleasant thought sobers him: does he even have the right to try to scare Krycek off? ** Leary home Saturday night "Mulder, that paint shop program you have, you can use it to edit pictures, right?" "Yup." "It’s not supposed be good as photoshop, though." Sam frowns a little. "I know. But photoshop costs six times as much, and mom and dad won’t buy it." "Yeah… do you think you could put your program on my computer, though?" "I guess so. " "Good, ‘cause we’re learning how to do things to pictures in my computer class, and I want to try some stuff with pictures I got off the internet." "G-rated ones, I hope." Mulder smirks. "Nah. I found pictures of slutty beaches and erect forests." "Sam!" She grins at him, apparently pleased to have gotten that reaction. Then she completely changes the subject. "How old were you when you decided that you liked Scully?" "Scully and I are not dating." He points out. "I know, but you used to. How old?" "Sixteen, I think. I liked Fowley before that, though." Mulder gives her a suspicious look. "Why?" When her cheeks pink he realizes that whatever she’s hiding, it’s not a plan like Reyes’ constant scheming to get them back together. "I was just wondering…"Sam mumbles. "Uh huh." "We’re too young now, but someday Daden’s gonna be my boyfriend." "Oh really?" A smile plays at the corner of his lips, because he wonders if any girls had ever thought that about him when he was thirteen. "Yup. It’s destiny. Just like you and Scully." And look at how well that worked out, he thinks. ** Main street Sunday afternoon Fowley is looking into a window of a store, trying to figure out if her grandmother is in there, when a hand touches her shoulder. She leaps forward and lets out an undignified little shriek of fright, all thoughts of the pesky clerk she wants to avoid flee. When she turns around, she sees Zane standing there, trying to control his mirth. "I don’t usually have that effect on women." "Do you usually go sneaking up behind them?" "Only if they’re really cute." She doesn’t reply, just blushes. "I haven’t seen you around much. Is it because your grandmother likes me ok? I know that can be the kiss of death." His tone is still playful, but there’s a bit of hurt in his eyes. Fowley doesn’t know what to say. "I was hallucinating my dead boyfriend for a few months, and that sort of took up a lot of my time" just doesn’t have a good ring to it. Instead she settles on, "You’re not as persistent as I’d figured. That’s sort of disappointing." "I might seem like a suave Don Juan on the outside, but on the inside I’m a mess of insecurities." "Aren’t we all?" Her tone is sardonic, so he gives her a faintly puzzled look. "Perhaps we ought to be insecure together then." He suggests. "Safety in numbers and all." "I’m still seventeen." She reminds him. He gives her a pensive look, then brightens. "But I believe that your birthday is in May, and this is April." "That’s true, my birthday is the seventh." "Excellent. I’ve waited since July, I can surely wait another month for your undivided attention… It would be undivided, wouldn’t it?" "Yes. But what about you, no girlfriend still?" He leans towards her and whispers, "Apparently I’m ‘difficult.’ No one wants to put up with me. They just don’t have complementary temperaments." "And I do?" Her smile is wry. "Well, I’m willing to find out, anyway, if you are. I’m going to bring you a birthday present, all right?" "Ok." He gives a flamboyant bow. "Until then my lady." She watches him go, a look of mingled happiness and amusement on her face. Grams joins her, coming out of a different store than the one that Fowley had been looking in. "You look happier than I’ve seen you be in a long while." "I am happier." Fowley admits. "Good. Want to get ice cream before we go home?" "I’d love to Grams." But even as she’s answering, something occurs to her, and she vows to address it as soon as possible. Guilt will make sure she does. ** Potter Home Tuesday late afternoon Bessie doesn’t recognize the girl standing there when she opens the door. "Hi…is Scully home?" "Yup, one minute." Scully jumps when Bessie knocks on her door. She’d been doing homework, and felt like the knock was pulling her back from miles away. "You scared me." "Sorry. Listen, there’s someone here to see you." "Who?" "I didn’t get her name. She has dark hair, though." "Oh, okay." Scully wonders who it could be, since Bessie would obviously recognize Reyes. When she gets outside, she’s not sure she wants to stay. "I’m sorry to drop by without warning, but I really need to talk to you." Fowley says. She looks as uncomfortable as Scully feels, which is the only reason Scully decides to hear her out. "There’s a picnic table out back." Once they’re both seated, across from each other, not next to one another, Fowley’s mouth quirks in a half frown. "I don’t usually like to talk to people about personal things, but I think you have a right to know what’s going on." Scully stares at her, wondering what she’s come to confess. This only flusters Fowley more. "I know you know that Reyes and I found Spender’s…body over the summer. What you don’t know is that after that I stopped being able to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I had nightmares. Over and over we found his skeleton, the clothes rotting off, his skull gleaming… "This went on for months, until the beginning of December, when Grams had enough of trying home remedies, none of which helped. She had me see my doctor, and get a prescription for sleeping pills. And they worked great, I could sleep again." Scully nods, wondering why Fowley had put such an emphasis on the word "December." "A lot of people swear by sleeping pills." "Yeah… The other thing that happened in December is that Spender started to haunt me." Fowley won’t look at her. "Oh." "He told me to do all sorts of things, and if I didn’t, he’d spend hours yelling at me, calling me names… At first I tried to ignore him, but it got to be too hard to listen to him, so I started to do the things he wanted me to do. One of those things was to break you and Mulder up." She finally looks Scully in the eye. "Why?" "I don’t know. I regret it now… Eventually, the things he wanted me to do made less and less sense. So I began to wonder if maybe I wasn’t being haunted, but going crazy instead." "Are you crazy?" Scully blurts out, then is horrified by her lack of tact. Fowley doesn’t seem to mind though. "I thought so, until a few days ago. I saw a shrink, and he told me that I’m not being haunted, or going crazy. One of the side effects of the sleeping pills I was taking is hallucinations, but only a tiny number of people have them. I was one of the lucky few." "You were only imagining you saw Spender, then?" "Yup. I haven’t taken the sleeping pills in a week, and he hasn’t come back. The nightmares are gone now too." "Well, that’s good, but why did you need to tell me this?" Scully asks. "Don’t you see? Mulder wasn’t lying to you. He really didn’t do anything to get me to kiss him. It was all me…I thought Spender wanted me to break the two of you up. If you need proof I can get the shrink to write you a letter about the hallucinations." "No, that’s ok. I believe you." "I feel so bad, Scully. You two were such a good couple, and I ruined everything." To Scully’s horror, she sees that Fowley’s eyes are brimming with tears. "It’s all my fault. I wish you would talk to him, because I can’t stand to see you both suffering apart." "Who says we’re suffering?" Scully counters. "Everyone. Neither of you so much have looked at anyone else the past four or five months, doesn’t that tell you something? You can’t move on, because you’re not supposed to. You belong together." "Maybe we would have broken up anyway." "Maybe." Fowley agrees. "But I didn’t give you the chance to find out." "Does Mulder know that you’re talking to me?" "Like he would believe we’d talk without killing each other." She has a point, Scully decides. "Thanks. It was brave of you to tell me all of this." "Will you talk to Mulder then?" Fowley looks hopeful. "I’ll certainly think about it." Scully finds herself promising. "Good. Like I said, I’m really sorry about this." For once Scully thinks that the other girl is being sincere. It surprises her a little. ** The Icehouse Thursday Dinner Skinner is looking for a case of paper napkins in the store room, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. Glancing up, he sees that it’s Reed. "I didn’t think you were scheduled for today." "I’m not. I sort of wanted to talk to you." "Oh? What about?" "How political are you feeling?" Reed looks slightly bashful, so that confuses Skinner. He has no clue what’s going on. "It depends on the issue." Reed looks even more flustered. "I was thinking that we ought to go to the prom. Together." "To make a statement?" Skinner asks, raising an eyebrow. Reed squirms. "That’s part of it… the rest is because, well, I think that you might feel differently about me than you did when we first met." "True. When I first met you, I thought you were a stuck-up pain in the butt. Now I know you were just shy." "And?" "Oh." Skinner can’t resist making Reed suffer for a moment longer, so he lets a pregnant pause build up before replying." I’d love to go to the prom with you." "Great." Reed looks thrilled and shy both. "That’s um, great." "You know, though, you were right earlier. This is going to be seen as a ‘statement’." Skinner warns. Reed shrugs. "Let them think whatever they want. It’s worth it." ** When Skinner goes on break a little while later, he uses the phone to call home. "Hey Dad, is Reyes around? Ok thanks. Talk to you when I get home." He waits while Mr. McPhee hands off the phone. "Hey sis, do I have news for you…Reed asked me to the prom…Yes really… Of course I said yes…Oh God, do I have to? Can’t Scully be a fashion consultant for you?…Ah, yeah, I know what you mean. Ok, I will, but you can only go to three stores, then I’m picking out a tux and going home…take it or leave it. I’ve got to go, we’ll talk at after I get home. Knowing you we’ll talk for hours…You can’t get mad at me for telling the truth!" After Reyes makes an explanation about tact and hangs up on him, he uses the rest of his break to think about the prom. ** It makes me sad to think This could all be for nothing I wish there was a way For you to see inside me I've never felt this way About anyone or anything Tell me Standing alone against the wall, Mulder watches. Scully is wearing a slinky black dress and her hair is French braided with matching ribbons woven in. Her head is grown back and she's laughing at something. Krycek's arms are around her, holding her close. Mulder grimaces as Krycek's hands wander towards Scully's butt. Krycek catches his eye and smears at him. He wishes of the floor were open up and swallow him. He never should've let Doggett and Reyes talking to coming. He doesn't along here, among the happy couples, and he knows it. Scully finally notices him and smiles for a split second- just before kissing Krycek. One word fills Mulder's mind as the kiss deepens. "Noooo…" There's the tremor, and the floor in front of him begins to ripple. He's not sure if he ought to be glad that his wish is coming true, or frightened out of his mind. At first it seems like he's the only one who notices what's going on, but then there's a person reaching out to him. It's gotten dusty, and he can't tell who it is. Apparently doesn't matter, because the person grabs the shoulder and- "Hey Mulder, wake up." Before he opens his eyes, an unpleasant smell fills Mulder's nose. Dead fish. "What?" "Have you not then sleeping at night or something? It's not like you to fall asleep on the way back from fishing." That is it. He and Doggett are driving home from fishing. It's the first time they've gone in a while, and it has been fun. "Yeah, and federal a rough few nights." Mulder gives Doggett a sidelong glance. "Do you think Scully would go to the prom with Krycek?" Doggett snorts." Maybe after a lobotomy. Why do you ask?" Mulder waves hand. "That's what my dream was about." "Sounds more like a nightmare." "Uh huh." Besides the floor opening part, a dream had had an unpleasant realistic quality to it. But Doggett was right, there's no way that Scully would go to the prom with Krycek ** Leary home Thursday 10:30pm "Mulder! Come downstairs!" Mulder gives a puzzled frown. His father sounds annoyed, and he can’t think of anything that he’s done wrong today to make him upset. He turns off the TV and rushes down. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, Mitch is waiting with a stern look. "Visitors this time of night are not acceptable, Mulder. Please keep it brief." "Visitors? What visitors?" His father moves aside, and he sees Scully standing in the doorway. "Keep it brief." Mitch mutters, stomping up the stairs. Scully looks apologetic. "I’m sorry to get you in trouble." "It’s ok." Mulder says, holding the door open so she can come in. "Um… is there something wrong?" "No." "Then, um…" "I’ve been thinking about something for days, and I just couldn’t stand it a second longer, so here I am. Bessie will probably kill me for being out this late on a school night, but I can’t take it any more." Mulder gives her a stricken look. This is when she tells me that she’s going to the prom with Krycek, he thinks. "Have you talked to Fowley this week?" "We’re in the same Art class, so I kind of have to. I mean, you can’t share materials without occasionally asking for something." Scully shakes her head. "That’s not what I mean. Have you talked to her?" "I don’t think so. Not about anything important." Mulder looks puzzled. "She told me what happened. In December." Mulder almost asks her what Fowley’s version of the events is, but Scully continues to speak. "She told me that it wasn’t anything you did. It wasn’t your fault." "Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that you finally believe it’s not my fault, but why do you believe her? I told you it wasn’t anything I’d done, and you didn’t believe me." "Because she didn’t have anything to gain by lying to me. Because she told me that her doctor finally figured out that she was seeing Spender because a drug she’d been prescribed was making her see Spender." "What? She saw Spender? Was he the one who told her to break us up?" Scully nods. "She’s sorry. God, Mulder, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone who looked more sorry. So I guess we really can’t blame her for what happened." "Yeah, well…" "Will you go to the prom with me?" It takes a couple of seconds for his brain to process the question. "You want to go to prom?" "This has been a stupid waste of four perfectly good months, Mulder. We shouldn’t let a problem that we can’t really blame anyone for steal any more time from us." "Are you… do you just want to go to the prom, or are you talking about getting back together?" He stammers. "Not that prom isn’t good-" Instead of answering him, Scully stands on her toes and kisses him softly on the mouth. "Both, if you want to." "I think I’d like to give it a shot." His voice is husky. He’s just about to draw her closer when they hear a squeal behind them. Whipping their heads back, they see Sam crouched on the stairs. "I told you it was destiny!" She giggles, then flees to her room. Mulder rolls his eyes. "You heard that, it’s destiny." "She’s quite a kid." Scully tells him with a smirk. "Hey! Don’t talk about your future sister-in-law that way!" "Oh, not only are we going to the prom and dating again, we’re going to get married too?" She asks archly. "If you play your cards right." "Good-night, Mulder." She kisses his cheek. "Thank you." Mulder can barely sleep that night, because he keeps remembering what happened, half afraid that it’s all going to be a dream when he wakes up. But he is awake. ** Capeside High Friday Lunch "Guess what." Scully says to Doggett, Reyes, Reed and Skinner at lunch. "Mulder and I are going to the prom." Mulder says nothing, but turns a little pink since everyone has turned to look at him. Sensing that they’re expecting an acknowledgment of some sort from him, he nods. "This is so great!" Reyes says excitedly. "You know what this means, right?" "We’re all going to be wearing uncomfortable clothes?" Mulder suggests. "No, Mulder. We’re all going to be wearing uncomfortable clothes together." Doggett corrects them. "But they’ll be pretty. Even if they are uncomfortable." Scully objects. "I hate you all." Reyes complains. "What this means is that you all can be on prom committee with me." "Un uh." "No way." "I don’t know…" Reyes puts her hands on her hips. "You’re not thinking things through. Reed, Skinner, if you’re on prom committee, it’ll mean that no one can keep you from going to the prom. Scully, you’ll have one more thing to put on your college activity under extra curricular activities." She then turns to look at Mulder and Doggett, both of who are smirking." And you two, do you know what one of the biggest responsiblies of the prom committee is?" "Does it involve balloons?" Mulder asks. "Naw, I bet we get to pick out which of the pretty glasses people get to keep afterwards. I vote for mugs, for the record. Manly mugs." Doggett declares. Reyes looks unfazed. "The prom committee must visit the various locations they think might make a good location for the prom. During the last two periods of the school day." "I’m in." "Sign me up." "I know quite a few places that might work." ** Radford Castle Tuesday after 5th period The building doesn’t look much like a place to hold a prom. The paint is pealing, the sign is hanging crookedly from its posts, and the parking lot looks rather desolate. "Nice taste your grandma’s friend’s got." Skinner teases Reed, who looks aghast. "It might not be so bad." Reyes says, but they can all tell she’s trying to be positive. "I’m sure if we le-" Mulder trails off suddenly as a woman rushes out and approaches the car. At first he wonders if maybe it’s not the right place after all, and she thinks that they’re trespassing, but there’s a smile on her face. Doggett rolls down a window, and she peers in at them. "You must be the prom committee, come inside, please." They follow her down the flagstone path, and she keeps up a steady stream of chatter. "This is so exciting, and you’ve caught us at just the right time too. We’re remodeling." She seems to notice that Scully and Reed have just exchanged looks of disbelief. "The inside is done, but the outside is going to be done soon, now that we’ve got good weather. That’s the problem, you see, you can’t do out-doors remodeling in the winter. Long winter, don’t you think…" The inside looks vastly different than the outside. "It’s beautiful." "Thanks you, dear. We’ve been struggling to make it look exactly like it did three hundred years ago." The woman’s voice holds a note of pride. "Three hundred years ago?" Skinner sounds surprised. "I didn’t know there were still any buildings that old in existence in this part of the country." "This building used to be the home of a rather infamous baron who moved here from England right at the beginning of the seventeenth century. The tales they told about that man…"She shook her head. "Tales like what?" Mulder asks a little too eagerly. "No, I don’t think it would be right to go about repeating nonsense." "Yeah…"Skinner looks around the room. "I think I’d like to take some pictures, if you don’t mind." "By all means." "Reed, come with me, I forgot the camera in the car." "Now, would the rest of you like to see the dance floor?" She asks. When she leads them to it, they look awed. "This is great." Reyes tells her. "Why don’t you try it out?" She invites. The four of them walk on to the dance floor, and they all notice that something feels a little odd. Shrugging it off, they begin to dance. Doggett with Scully. Mulder with Reyes. Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Stabbing Westward ("What do I Have to Do?" ) The Stills ("Still in Love Song ") and Seether ("Fine Again ") ** ** Mulder’s Creek: 33 Possession II Summary: The location Reyes picks out for the prom is great...except for one little thing. *Note: this is the season finale. After this episode season three will begin five years from this point.* Opening scene The look on Mrs. Graves face is in flux. She appears both frightened and pleased, not that the others notice any of this. The dancers whirl around her, to a song that she can’t hear, but since their steps are all so precisely matched, it seems that all four of them do. After a couple of moments it enters her mind that perhaps she ought to intervene, but the other two boys return, and she doesn’t have to. Skinner and Reed notice nothing unusual, since the others have all come to a graceful stop, and are standing with their hands by their sides. "So…you guys like this place?" Skinner asks when no one says anything. "It’s great." Scully tells him, a dreamy look in her eyes. "It really is." Reyes agrees. "We’d love to book this place for our prom, Mrs. Graves." For just a fraction of a second the woman hesitates. "Yes, of course. May 30th, wasn’t it?" "Yes, it is." Reyes tells her happily. "Good. I’ll see you young people then." Mrs. Graves bid them farewell. Looking out the back window, Skinner got a slight chill at the way she was staring at their car. He didn’t like it at all. *** Theme song -" Stranded" by Plumb *** Sunday Capeside Mall During a lull in the dress shopping – Skinner has fled to get donuts, and they’re still waiting for him- Scully gives Reyes a side-long glance. "Okay, spill it." She demands. "Spill what?" Reyes asks, still scanning the crowds for her twin. "It’s been days since I told you that Mulder and I are going to the prom, and I can’t take the waiting any more. When are you going to ask if that means Mulder and I are back together or not?" "I wasn’t going to." Reyes says cheerfully, not looking her in the eye. "Why?! I know you’re dying to know, so why wouldn’t you ask?" "I assumed it meant you were." "Try again." Scully tells her. "You wouldn’t have unasked questions all over your face if you really thought we were back together." "Doggett made me promise not to interfere." "That I believe. At least him asking you to. The you actually honoring his wishes is harder to believe." "Hey, sometimes you’ve got to do what the boys want. It keeps them happy if you throw them a bone now and then." "What are you talking about?" Skinner asks, plopping down on the bench next to them. They wait until he’s handed out the donuts. "Throwing people bones." "Ah." He glances at them, noting the lack of bags. "You’re not going to pick your dresses today, are you." "Nope." Scully agrees. "Well, I think I’ve actually come to a decision." Reyes swats her brother when he gasps in amazement. "I think I like that dark blue one we saw." "In the first store?" Skinner groans. "It’s better to shop around than to have to return something when you find another you like better, Skinner." Reyes tells him primly. "Whatever." ** May 10th 2003 Leary home Mulder thinks that the blue and white streamers decorating the entire downstairs of the house are little disturbing. As happy as he is to have his little brother, he thinks it is more than a little silly to have birthday party for someone too young to even know what a birthday is. But it seems to make his parents happy to celebrate it, and Sam seems pretty happy about it too, so he keeps his mouth shut. It’s safer that way. Besides, he thinks it would be hypocritical to fault someone else for doing something silly; he does silly things all the time, as people like to point out to him. Since he’s pretty much useless when it comes to decorating, he has been assigned the task of keeping the birthday boy entertained. Given Price is learning to walk, this task is not is easy as it once might have been. He might be wobbly on his feet, he's a speed demon on all fours. "Hey kid, I hope that you enjoy this considering how much trouble everyone going through. Except me, of course. When you’re bigger, you figure out how to get out of things too." It’s not clear if Price understands, but he does grin at Mulder. "At least I’m good entertainment." Mulder tells him grinning back. Mrs. Leary and bustles in just then. She scoops Price out and talks to him in a high singy voice. "Birthday boy, you’re going to love the cake. I have the bakery make it special." "Mom, he’d love any cake that he can smear on himself." "Cynic." His mother accuses, but still, she smiles. "No, I just remember Alex’s first birthday party. Bessie and Scully spent more time cleaning up than getting ready." Mulder warns. Mrs. Leary just sighs dramatically. ** Thirty minutes later Although their parents and sister obviously mean well, the birthday boy seems bewildered by the hustle and bustle. Looking around, Mulder discovers that no one has been keeping an eye on Price, and no one bothered to ask him to keep an eye on him again after their mother picked him up earlier. Mulder finds him hiding in a corner of the room. Price is sucking a thumb and clutching something in his other fist. Crouching down, Mulder addresses his brother. "Hey Price, what have you got there?" "Bankie" Price replies waving it. It's the quilt that Scully helped Mulder make, and he wonders where it came from since he hasn't seen it in months. He has an idea of how Price got it, though. "Can I have your blankie?" Price looks reluctant, but hands over. Mulder opens the closet door at the other end of the room and tosses the quilt in. By the time he turns around, the quilt is back on Price's lap. Even though Price had taken a few cautious steps the week before there's no way he could've gotten past Mulder and returned without Mulder having seen. "Interesting." Is all Mulder says. ** "Happy birthday, dear Price..." Mulder finds himself picturing a potential disaster: Price, enchanted by the candles, decides to bring them closer, which in turn sets the streamers they pass on fire. Much screaming and panic ensues. Fortunately, Price doesn't seem to care about the candles that all, and they stay put until after Mitch blows them out for him. The rest of the party is fairly uneventful, and more than a little typical. Price needs help opening his presents, which he promptly ignores in favor of the boxes they'd come in. Mitch snaps about 400 pictures and Gale looks all teary-eyed. If Mulder hadn't seen his little brother transport an object from inside the closet without even opening the door, he might be tempted to think that it's just a typical birthday party for a typical baby. But he knows better. ** 9pm Sam looks up when she hears a knock on the door. Usually her parents just come in, so it has to be her brother. "Come in, Mulder." "How did you know it was me?" Mulder asks, with a puzzled grin. "You are the only one who actually respects privacy around here. What have you got there?" She asks, eyeing the wrapped package in Mulder’s hands. "Is it something you forgot to give Price? He won’t know if it’s late." "Nope. It’s something for you." He puts it in her hands. "It’s not my birthday. And Mulder, I don’t want my next birthday to be as memorable as last year, okay? I’m still surprised Mom and Dad haven’t figured out what we did." "I know it’s not your birthday. But today is a special day for you anyway. It’s been exactly one year since you came home. I hope it’s been a good year." When she doesn’t say anything he does. "Go on, open it." Inside is a framed picture, one taken exactly a year before. Mitch had insisted on taking a picture of them before they left the hospital, so a still shell-shocked Mulder was sitting in the hospital room’s uncomfortable chair with Sam standing next to him, and their newborn brother in his arms. In the moment the picture captures neither of them are looking at the camera, but down at the baby. Tears prick at the corners of Sam’s eyes, and she puts the picture on the bed before flinging her arms around Mulder’s neck. "The parts of the year that have been good have been because of you and Price. I didn’t know if I would like having brothers, now I can’t imagine life without you both." "I can’t speak for Price, but I’m so glad you got to know us." Mulder tells her, hugging her back. "Some day you’ll have belonged to this family so long we won’t even remember to count how many years it’s been." "Good." ** Monday Lunch Capeside High Reyes and Fowley are the first ones of their group of friends to get to the cafeteria, so they wander over to the hot lunch line while keeping an eye out for everyone else. Reyes has spent the first two minutes they’ve been in line talking about how cool it is that Prom is coming up. Fowley has politely nodded at appropriate times, but she doesn’t seem excited about the idea. "What about you, are you going?" Reyes finally asks. Fowley wrinkles her nose. "The only person I'd want to go with is Zane, and he's not allowed to go since our school will not let anyone over twenty-one attend the prom. Not to mention he's on the middle school staff..." "So go stag." Reyes commands. "I don't know..." "C'mon it'll be fun. Everyone thinks the you're really brave and they don't blame you or anything so you could sit at our table." "Well..." "at least let me show you where it's going to be held. To you say something about wanting to do a report on a historical building in Capeside?" "Have to, not want to." Fowley says grumpily. "There’s no way I would have come up with this paper topic on my own. "You'll like this place. It's a real live castle." "Castles are inanimate." "Whatever. You know what I meant." "Hey look, there’s Doggett." Fowley points, obviously looking for something to distract Reyes. Luckily, it works. ** 3pm Lindley Home As soon as she steps into the house, Fowley goes over to her grandmother and gives her a hand with the laundry she’s folding. Grams is surrounded by laundry baskets, some of which look like they're threatening to fall over. Fowley decides it must be her grandmother's turn to do the church linens and grabs a basket of freshly washed tablecloths. "You look like you could use some help." "Thank you, dear. It’s been a busy afternoon so I hadn’t gotten around to this laundry until just a little while ago, so I appreciate the help. How was your day?" Gram asks. Fowley gives her a frown. "Reyes is trying to make me say I'll go to the prom with them, even though I won't have a date." Grams nods. "You should go." "I should?" It's not what she expected to come out of her grandmother's mouth. "Of course you should. You're only young once. Ten years from now, you want to be able to share from memories with other people, not just hear about theirs." "Did you go to yours, Grams?" "Yes, I did." "What was like?" Fowley asked, suddenly curious. She can hardly imagine her grandmother with her hair down, never mind dancing. "Oh, it was lovely." Grams says with a faraway look in her eyes. "Except for the flooding." "The flooding?" Fowley drops the tablecloth she's folding into her lap and leans forward with interest. "Our prom was during the rain storm, you see. It was one of the biggest storms in Capeside history. We didn't notice for the first half of the prom, but eventually the rain level got so high that the prom began to flood. Some of the crepe paper decorations got very soggy and peeled off the wall, leaving colored streaks." "Did the venue charge you extra to clean it up?" "No, dear. Back in my day proms were held right in the high schools. Going somewhere else to have a prom is a relatively new idea, and from what I hear some schools don't do that even today. They still do them right at the school's gyms." "So did everyone have to go home of the water started to get it in?" "That would have been the smart thing, but we were teenagers. And unlike proms, teenagers have not changed much in the past several decades. No, we just took off our fancy shoes and threw them up on the stage, and made sure that we lifted our skirts the when the water got too deep while we danced." Grams glances over at her, taking in her surprised expression. "I know it sounds the total disaster, but really, it's one of my most fond memories I have from when I was your age." "Wow." Grams pats her on the hand. "That's why I don't want you to miss out, Fowley." "I guess if you think I should go..." Grams' encouraging look distracts her. "I'll go" she says resignedly. "It'll be fun, just you watch." She nods, but she finds it hard to believe. But going means is she won't have to listen to people complaining that she isn't going, so she supposes that that's reward enough. ** Wednesday Capeside High For once, Krycek isn't swaggering as he approaches Scully. Since this is atypical of him around girls, it puts her on guard and she gives him a wary look. "What?" "I was thinking about the play. It was fun. Besides that jerk pretending to be a ghost... I still think Skinner and I should have kicked his ass, but we didn't want to get suspended. Anyway, it was fun." "It was kind of fun." Scully agrees. "Maybe we can do the new play in the fall." "Yeah, maybe. I'd try out for if you did." "If I did?" She raises an eyebrow. "Acting with you was cool. I didn't know if we could pull the whole romantic interests thing off, but everyone said it was believable." "Well, all Benedict and Beatrice do is argue. We argue too." A strange thing is happening to his face Scully observes. Is he blushing? "They kiss too." He's definitely blushing. The warning bells sounds; two minutes before the next class starts. It's not the only warning bell she hears. "Would you... go to the prom with me?" "I can't." "I know you think I'm a jerk, but I can be nice too. If I was given the chance." Scully gives him a look of pitying disbelief. "I'm going already, with-" "Don't tell me." He says abruptly. Turning on his heel, he rushes off muttering, "gonna be late for class." For a second Scully watches him, and then walks to her own class. Fortunately it's nearby. It's the first time she's ever seen Krycek upset before, and makes her feel a little the bad. Him seeming human is novel. Scully shrugs off her guilt; he should have known she turn him down ** Thursday Afternoon The Valentine's garage I know a place where I can go when I'm alone Into your arms whoa into your arms I can go I can go... "Hey." Krycek interrupts before they practice the song again. Craig and Reed look up from drums and microphone. "I've got great news." "What kind of news?" Craig asks. "I've scored us the best gig. The prom." Craig looks vaguely pleased, but Reed does not. "We can't play at the prom." Reed's voice is already slightly agitated. "Why not?" "Because it kind of pisses off your date if you're playing Instead of paying attention to them, that's why. You should have asked us if we were going before volunteering us for that." "It's not' volunteering,' we're getting paid!" Krycek protests. "That doesn't matter! You shouldn't have assumed you weren't the only one who couldn't get a date." "How was I supposed to know you were going?" "Um, by asking?! I told you couldn't practice last week because I was drafted to be on the prom committee, did you think I was doing it for my health?" "I kind of thought they asked you because well... there's that shown bravo..." he trails off when he notices that Reed and Craig are both shooting him daggers. "We can't back out of this, or will never get to play at dance again." Krycek looks mournful "I'm sorry, but..." "You're always sorry when you sign us up for things without asking." "Look, it won't be so bad. We're supposed to do like six songs, then there's a DJ to play requests the rest of the night." "I guess that's not so bad." Reed says grudgingly. But he worries. Will Skinner feel the same? ** Radford Castle 7 p.m The sun is slowly going down as Masoners get off their scaffolding and begin packing up for the day. It's hard to believe, but in a few short weeks, it'll say light out past nine. "It's looking good." Mrs. Graves praises the foreman. "Ayuh," the man, a Mainer by birth, agrees. "We ought to be done by the day after tomorrow. I figure we ought to finish it up Saturday instead of coming back on Monday." "That'd be wonderful. There's going to be a prom here in a couple of weeks, so it should look nice for then." "Oh, sure. We'll be out of your hair by then." She waves goodbye and goes inside, not bothering to turn on lights. "When?" a hissing voice asks. She thinks she sees a flicker of movement in the shadows. "I've already told you." She complains. "When?" A second voice demands. "May 30th." She pauses knowing that their grasp of calendar dates is childlike at best. "Two weeks from now." "You should make it sooner." The voice is petulant. "Yes, sooner." "I can't do that. They make the dates at their convenience." "Liar. If you wanted to you could make them change to sooner." "Or we could do hurting things. To make you make them." The second voice giggles evilly. "Shut up." Mrs. Graves tells them sounding unafraid. "I won't be pushed around the ghosts." "Ghost!" The voice is shrill with indignation. "You know we're not." "You're just wish we were." The second voice adds. "Yes. I know you're not." She agrees flatly. "Good. Two weeks, then we'll have our playthings." "But why?" Mrs. Graves asks, exasperated. "Why not?" The voice sounds baffled. ** Sunday afternoon McPhee home Reed drops by but doesn't announce a reason why. Skinner can tell there's something on his mind by his distracted expression. He's on the verge demanding to know what, but the other boy speaks first. "I, uh, have some bad news about the prom... As usual, Krycek made decisions about the band without asking anyone, this one about the prom. He decided that we ought to be the band for it." He gives Skinner an apologetic look. "It's only six songs, but... I'm sorry. I wanted this be good time for both of us. And you watching us play with no one to dance with isn't what I had in mind." "It's okay, I don't mind." Skinner tells him. Reed blinks. "But you hate Krycek." "I don't hate him, I just wish he'd move far far away. Maybe to another dimension. But I know that music is important to you, so I don't mind watching for little while. Besides, Fowley's coming without a date, so it's not like there's no one to hang out with during your set." "I didn't know you knew her well." Skinner shrugs. "I don't. My sister likes her though, and she's not a terrible judge of character, so why not hang out together instead of being alone?" "Good thinking. You really not mad?" Reed's eyes are uncharacteristically puppy dog'd. "Nah. I'd rather spend the whole dance with you, but this isn't the end of the world." "Have I ever told you how sweet you can be?" Reed asks. "No, but if you wanted gush over my virtues, I'm listening." ** Monday afternoon Lindley Home The castle is beautiful just as Reyes promised, but something about it makes Fowley shiver. Seeing it from the car didn't make her eager to ever go in it, so she's beginning to regret agreeing to go to the prom. It's not anyone's reactions to hearing that she's tagging along, since they seem to all be in a forgiving mood. It's the castle. Later, when she's doing the research about the castle for her paper, she wonders if her reaction stems from some forgotten mention about the place. It certainly has a past according to things she dug up online and at the library. Frowning slightly, Fowley re-reads part of her paper as she types." Radford castle was one of several historical European castles that was purchased by wealthy Americans at the beginning of the 20th century and shipped from Europe to the US brick by brick and painstakingly rebuilt. Three masons lost their lives during the reconstruction of Radford castle, but the castle's dark history began centuries earlier. Once the home of an eccentric Scottish lord, local legend held that it was a place of dark desires and that it held darker lords as well. Demons. The demons, four of them, were rumored to have an eye for attractive humans. Perhaps unlike one would expect of demons, they were not cruel to their mortal victims for cruelty's sake alone. In fact, their particular cruelty was much like that of a child that never learns that others feel. Or perhaps the demons simply didn't care; "witnesses" never said one way or the other when describing the demons' actions. What these actions were is something every account has in common - the demons would tire of their non-corporal existences and seek out humans who strayed to close to "borrow" their bodies for a taste of Earthly pleasures that being embodied could afford them. Their unwitting hosts didn't seem to mind the invasions, but the demons were not the souls of moderation and restraint, so those who could not free themselves from the possessions died of exhaustion or misadventure. Or so those who repeated the tales would have the unsuspecting believe." Although she knows that the legends ought to be taken with a shaker of salt, she can't help but shiver a little at the idea of a demonic castle. Living in Capeside has made her more open to extreme possibilities... the extremes have a way of becoming the plausible in a place like this. Nothing she reads as she tries to finish the article melts the ice that's formed along her spine. ** Saturday morning Witter home Doggett is wandering by the open bathroom door when Kersh sticks head out the door. "You get your tux yet?" Kersh asks. For a moment Doggett considers pointing out to his brother that the shaving cream is sliding down his face and onto his collar, but decides against it. "I've reserved it, if that's what you mean." "I remember when I picked up my tux for the prom-" "You went to the prom?" Doggett asks. "Well, of course you did, Mom has pictures, but I don't really remember." "You were in elementary school, I'm not surprised you don't remember. Just be glad you don't remember when our sisters went to their proms." Kersh says heavily. "I remember Gretchen's prom." Doggett protests. "Not one of the sisters I was talking about." "Oh…"Doggett says with a shudder. He does find himself suddenly grateful. "Boys actually asked them?" "I think Dad paid them off." Kersh said with a straight face. "He should have, anyway. Kerry was even worse than Anne. I thought her date was going to have a nervous break down because of all the screaming…before they even left for the prom. ' I told you my dress was purple! Does this corsage look purple to you?! No, it's a light lavender!' Yikes." "Do you think dad paid Ryan to marry her?" Doggett asks. "No. I think Ryan had a lobotomy a long time before he met Kerry. No amount of money would have been enough to compensate for having to live with her." "Sometimes I wonder if we're too hard on her. Do you think we'd have gotten along with her better if she'd been our full sister?" "Why? Anne doesn't." "Good point. You and I get along better than she and Anne do, and we're half-siblings too." "Yeah… I've always been surprised that a house never landed on either of them…"Kersh muses. "But we were talking about my prom, not monsters." "Oh yeah." "It was a disaster." "Really?" "Did you ever hear about the kid who brought a gun to the prom?" "I think so, yeah." "That was my prom. Jason Kell was upset that his newly ex-girlfriend had the audacity to find someone to go to the prom with, so he showed up and decided that he'd 'teach her a lesson'." "God. Was anyone hurt?" "By the gun, no, but there were more than a few bumps and scrapes as people tried to run from the idiot waving the gun. Tripping over chairs, slipping on spilled drinks, things like that. The cops came pretty quick and took him away, but people didn't feel much like dancing after that." "Well no wonder!" Kersh thumps Doggett on the shoulder. "It was a fluke. I'm sure your prom will go much better." "Yeah, thanks." Doggett says. The reassurance is anything but. ** 6pm Potter home Without any preamble or even a knock as a by your leave, Bessie comes in and sits on Scully's bed. "What's up?" Scully asks, putting aside The Scarlet Letter. She hates the book, so she doesn't mind the interruption. Why high schools still insist that people read it despite there being hundreds of years worth of books she doesn't know. "I was wondering if you've found a prom dress you like yet." Bessie asks. Scully's nose wrinkles. "No, not yet. I'm planning to go to the mall after I get out of work tomorrow." Grinning, she adds, "If you wanted to let me off early…" Bessie doesn't seem in the mood to do favors. "You don't have much time to decide." "Don't rub it in." "I'm not. I just wanted to show you something." Bessie says, getting up. "What?" "Just come on." Bessie says, putting on her hand until she stands up. Their destination is apparently the attic. The stairs are already down and light shines down on them, so Scully knows that Bessie has already been up there. "The attic?" She can't keep the slight tremor out of her voice. "C'mon. Dad was only kidding when he told us that there were bats up there." Bessie prods her towards the stairs. "Bats don't live in houses unless there's no place better around, and given we're in the woods, they've got a lot of better choices." "Says you." Scully mutters. She was eight when her father told her that, but the idea of bats flying around the attic still freaks her out to this day. "Why would he tell us that if it wasn't true?" Bessie laughs. "Don't you know that's where he used to hide all our Christmas presents when we were little? As a way of keeping us from going up there to find them, I'd say it worked pretty well." Despite the heat, Scully shivers a little as she stands in the dusty attic. Even at mid-day the light is pretty dim, and it does nothing to make her feel better about being up there. She shoots her sister a 'can we get this over with?' look. "What did you want to show me?" Instead of answering, Bessie walks towards on of the attic's two windows. "Come see." Swallowing a sigh of frustration, Scully follows her sister. And sees what she has. "That's beautiful, where did it come from?" "Back before mom got sick, she and Dad used to go to functions for her work. This was the dress from one of the last formals they went to." Bessie pauses, giving her an appraising look. "You're about Mom's size, so I thought that if you don't find something you like better, this might do with just a little bit of alteration." "I love it." Scully tells her, reaching out a hand to touch the fabric. "Then let's bring it downstairs and see how it looks on you." Bessie tells her, gathering up the dress. "If it needs to be taken in or something, I think my friend Stacey would do it for us." ** Sunday 9am The peace of making breakfast is disturbed when a voice shouts "Mulder!" He nearly drops his plate and stares at his mother. Thinking quickly he can't come up with anything he's done wrong. "What?" "What color is Scully's dress for the prom?" Price takes his mother's momentary distraction as an opportunity and clumsily lobs a spoonful of baby cereal at her. A frown creases her face as she reaches for a paper towel to clean off her pants. It amuses Mulder so much that Price still doesn't like being fed by her that he forgets the question. At least Price is sporting about it and only manually throws things at her. "Mulder?" "What?" "Her dress?" "Oh. Um… She called last night and said she finally had one-" "I can't believe she'd put it off this long. I know when I went to the junior prom I got my dress two months before the dance. It was red-" "She's fussy. Do you want to know about her dress or not?" Mulder complains. He can feel his plate cooling as he holds it. It’s not, in his opinion, the right time for a meander down memory lane. "Sorry. You were saying?" "It's green." "What kind of green? Mint Green? Kelly Green? Forest green-" "Dark green." Mulder remembers that the conversation the night before had wandered into crayon colors. "You know, I think she, or maybe Bessie knew you'd want to know. She said it was the color of a hunter green crayon." Mrs. Leary gets up and begins going through drawers, leaving Price to fend for himself. The baby starts to fuss for a second, before dropping his spoon on the floor. He's happy again as soon as he's gotten the first fistful of cereal to his mouth. Mulder starts to tell her, but shrugs. She finishes rummaging and comes up with a box of crayons that Mulder had forgotten about and a pad of paper. A few seconds later she has scribbled a patch of hunter green on the paper and is holding it up to the light. "Yeah, that’s it. So what does the color matter, anyway?" Mulder asks. "Flowers, Mulder. You need to know what color dress to know what color flowers." "They don't make green flowers, do they? I mean, they dye carnations green at Saint Patrick's day, but-" "The flowers don't have to match, they just have to look good with the dress color. You don't want something that will clash." "Oh." The thought of dress and flower color conflicts would never have occurred to him. "After I get home on Monday, we'll go to the florists." His mother tells him. "And Mulder? Since you let your brother eat with his hands and didn't do anything to stop him, you can give him a bath. Now." Mulder put his plate in the microwave with a sigh. The rumble in his stomach told him that maybe he ought to have picked up the spoon after all. ** Friday 3pm Capeside High A vehicle pulls up along the curb, and Fowley glances over to see Reyes sticking her head out of the driver side window. "Fowley, we've got to go to the hall early to decorate. Do you want to come with us? It might be fun." Reyes encourages. She's got her dad's SUV, and Mulder, Scully, Doggett and Skinner, plus all the supplies are already in it with room to spare. "We'll spend an hour or two there, then go home to change." "I might as well." She agrees, but it makes her a little nervous to go their ahead of the crowd. The ride there doesn't take nearly as long as she wishes that it would. * Mrs. Graves tried to ignore the excited chattering from the back hall as the prom committee arrives, but they're making quite a ruckus. "I want the tall one." "No, mine!" "Quiet, I saw him first." "Pretty…we'll be so pretty." Mrs. Graves is chewing on her lip when the kids start to enter with decorations. She makes a sudden decision. She'll keep them out of the dark, because the demons need for it to be dark in order to possess their victims. "No don't go in there!" Mrs. Graves shouts, "Let me turn the lights on for you." But it's too late. All four victims have already walked onto the dance floor. They drop the boxes they're holding, and turn to look at her. "We'll get you for that." Reyes warns her with flashing eyes. The voice is the same, but the look on her face isn't any that's ever been there before. "Let's lock her up." Mulder suggests. "Then she can't cause any more problems." "No no, don't. I'm sorry." Mrs. Graves babbles. "You won't let them will you?" She turns to Scully and Doggett, who have watched impassively, but as soon as she sees their eyes she knows that she's wasting her breath. They've been taken too. Doggett and Mulder reach her just as she's turned to run, but they grab her by the arms and tug on her. Her heels drag on the shiny dance floor as they pull her towards a door that one of the girls has opened. The woman is still protesting as they shove her into a storage closet. "Be quiet and maybe we'll forgive you and let you out later." Scully hisses. "Otherwise we might forget to let you out at all." The woman looks up at them with defeated eyes, then collapses onto the floor while they slam the door. Fowley and Skinner come in just then, carrying the last of the decorations. Reaching out one hand, Fowley flicks on the lights. "Like it in the dark?" The other four look at each other. "We love the dark." Reyes tells her. "Okay…but it's hard to decorate in the dark." Skinner remarks. "Yeah. Lights on are fine." Doggett tells him, but he's looking at Fowley when he says it. ** As Fowley is arranging balloons in the corner of the room, she glances over her shoulder and nearly falls off the foot stool she's standing on. Reyes is leaning over Mulder, putting up decorations, her body pressed up against his back. That he doesn't seem to mind doesn't surprise her, but that Scully doesn't seem to care does. "I guess she's gotten past being the jealous type." Fowley mutters under her breath, then wonders if what happened between Scully and Mulder only happened because it was her that kissed Mulder; Mulder has never shown any interest Reyes or vise versa, so perhaps that explains Scully's non-reaction. At least that's what she tells herself until she sees Doggett walk behind Scully and goose her. Scully squeals and jumps, then turns and gives Doggett a playful smack. Mulder and Reyes don’t notice because they’re staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Fowley rubs her own eyes, wondering if she's landed in bizzaro world somehow, because anyone who didn’t know the quartet would think that Doggett was dating Scully not Reyes. She wonders if Skinner notices this too, but wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t, because he’s been working in the opposite corner of the room as everyone else, decorating the stage. "Skinner, could you give me a hand?" She calls across the hall. He nods and goes over to her, and she doesn’t catch his surprised look halfway there. "I left something in the car, help me look for it, please?" When they get outside Fowley pulls Skinner aside. "Is it just me, or does everyone else seem to be acting a little strange." He opens his mouth to say no, but then he thinks of his worry moments before that it looked like his sister had kissing Mulder in mind." Now that you mention it..." "Do you believe in possession?" Skinner drops the flashlight and jumper cable he was moving to get at the forgotten decorations and gives her a startled look. "Not you too. I thought my sister and Mulder were the town resident supernatural conspiracy theorists." "Hello? While with my undead boyfriend, I saw ghosts in the high school. Later on I was with your sister when we discovered Spender's bones. I later thought that one of my grandmother's friends had purchased and used the fountain of youth. It's not as though they've cornered the market on open-mindedness." She pauses, noticing Skinner's utterly blank look. "We don't know each other very well, but I'm surprised that Reyes never mentioned any of this to you." His look is sheepish. "My sister talks to me. A lot. A real lot. I know people are lead to believe that twins are always on the same wavelength... sometimes I wonder if we're even on the same planet. "But you asked me about possession. I'm sure you had a reason." "Um, yeah. Your sister suggested that this place would be a good building to do a report on, and brought me to see it. So I began to do research on this castle-" Skinner scoffs. "This place, a castle? It's way too small for that." Fowley shakes her head. "Over in Europe there were tons of castles. Practically every lord had one. Most of them were a lot smaller than the ones kings had. Anyway, this castle used to be in Europe, before someone dismantled it and shipped it here, and it was originally was owned by Lord MacLeod. He and his family were murdered by the people he governed." "Why were they murdered? Or is it a mystery?" "It's no mystery. The who family was cut down in their sleep when a member of the guard let armed men into the castle during the night. As for why, the common folk rose up against them and killed them for conjuring demons from the depth of hell." "That's movie stuff." Skinner protests. "People can't really do that." "Apparently some people can. The people had ample evidence before they took action." "Evidence like what?" "After being possessed the victims would engage in completely self destructive debauchery, that was completely out of character for them." "So? Behaving a little wildly doesn't mean a person's been possessed." "Most people don't self-indulge to death...Rock stars not withstanding." "True..." "So if they are possessed, which I seriously doubt, what do you think we-" Skinner abruptly breaks off when they both hear a door. Reed comes in carrying a mike stand. "Aww, man, you're not the rest of the band. I didn't recognize the car, did your dad get a new one?" before Skinner can even not Reed is talking again." I thought they were here. Dammit, why am I only one who's ever on time?" Reed stops his complaint to give them a bright smile. "How are you guys doing with setting up?" "Everyone else is acting funny, so Fowley thinks everyone but she and I are possessed by demon." Skinner's tone is one of long suffering. "Okay." "Okay??" "Yeah." "But...!! But...!!" Skinner sputters. "You're the most skeptical person I know, how can you just say 'okay'?" Reed shrugs. "There's some sort of a problem, right? I don't have to agree with what she thinks is the cause in order to help find a solution." "I guess..." Skinner still sounds doubtful. "So, what makes you think they're possessed?" Reed asks Fowley. "Well, they're acting really strange, and there's a legend about this castle being inhabited by demons." Reed ignores the second half of her statement. " Strange how?" As Fowley explains what’s been going on, he smirks, obviously not believing for a second that her theory to explain the behavior is the right one. ** "So what do you want us to do about all this?" Reed asks once she’s paused to catch her breath. Fowley’s eyes suddenly look less worried. "I told you that I was doing a report about the history of this place, right?" "Yeah, so?" Skinner asks impatiently. His eyes are scanning the area, watching to see if the others are coming in. So far they aren’t. "There was this legend I found online, something about one of the previous possessions. The author of the story said an old man told him how they were able to rescue some of the victims from these demons." "How?" Reed asks eagerly. "Get a psychiatrist to talk to them?" "Reed, they’re possessed, not crazy." Fowley protests. "Whatever." "The hero of the tale was supposed to have used fire to drive them out." "Would a flashlight work?" "I don’t think so. I mean, they don’t seem to like the lights overhead, but it’s certainly not driving them out. I don’t think an incandescent bulb is going to hack it. It has to be fire." "Wouldn’t that hurt them?" Skinner asks. "Besides the whole not wanting to hurt our friends thing, I’d hate to have to explain to Doggett’s dad and brother if things didn’t go well." The three of them raced around the castle, looking for a source of fire. The others must have known where things were, because they found several hurricane lanterns shattered on the floor of a room upstairs. Disappointed, they went back to the kitchen, hoping that it was a gas range. "The stove’s electric." Fowley gave the offending appliance a kick. "Dammit, I wish I hadn’t quit smoking – I’d have a lighter or matches if I hadn’t." "You smoked?" Skinner looks surprised. "Wow." "Yeah, I had a bad habit, what of it? Look, as much as I’d like to stand around and continue discussing this, it’s not getting us anywhere. We need to find a source of fire." "And what will they be doing while we look for fire?" Reed asks. "If we don’t know, we can answer questions later." Skinner points out. "As long as whatever it is doesn’t lead to me becoming an uncle this winter, I don’t want to know, either." Fowley gave him a stricken look. "You don’t think they’d….do you?" "Do you honestly think the people they possessed who died from overexertion ‘danced’ themselves to death?" Skinner asks. "Oh god. Let’s find fire, quickly." "How come you care so much?" He asks curiously. "Reyes is my best friend, and I’ve screwed so much up with Mulder and Scully…maybe fixing this is a way to make amends." Pointing at a high shelf, Reed interrupts. "Behind that box of cake mix, doesn’t that look like a candle?" "It sure does. If there are matches with it, there is a God and I’ll go to church on Sunday." Fowley says, trying to reach for the shelf. Skinner, who is considerably taller than her, reaches for it instead. He turns around with a grin. "Your grandmother is going to be so happy." ** They almost squeal in delight when the first match lights up, but they stifled themselves to keep the kids in the ball room from hearing them. "We can’t just wave a candle at them all though." Fowley whispers. "Divide and separate." Reed whispers back. "We’ll lure them in one at a time. Skinner and I can hold them down, and you get the fire in their faces." "Me? I hope I don’t burn off anyone’s eyelashes." She gives them both a weak smile. "Let’s do this." * "Reyes, could you come here please? I need some help from my lovely sister." Skinner calls out loudly. In the ballroom, the four demons look at each other. "They’ll be suspicious if you don’t go." The demon possessing Mulder points out. "But I don’t want to leave you." She says, running a finger down his jaw. "I’ll be here when you get back." She nods, then wanders into the kitchen, where she sees the human’s brother. "What did you need help with?" Before she can shout, one human sneaks up behind her, and wraps one hand around her mouth while the brother pulls back her arms. "Do it." The brother hisses, and she shakes her head back and forth when she sees the girl with the lit candle. Despite her best efforts to keep her eyes closed and thrash away from the flames, she still manages to see it when she cracks her eyes to see what the human that just pinched her is doing. The flame is warm, and so bright. So very bright… Then Reyes bites Reed’s hand, making him pull it away with a strangled gasp. "What the hell are you doing to me, guys?" Instead of answering her, they all peer into her eyes. "I think the demon’s gone." "Demon, what are you…oh my god, that was all real, not a dream, wasn’t it." Reyes looks horrified, before she tries to get free. "The rest of them –“ "Wait, wait. We need help luring them in to fix them too." Reyes tells her, before whispering the outline to the plan to her. Within 10 minutes all four demons are banished. As they rid Doggett of his demon, the clock rings, and Reed turns to look at as soon as the other boy stops struggling." Good timing, I need to go home and get ready for our gig." "Yeah, and we need to get dressed." Reyes points out. "I’m glad that’s over with." "Um…not quite." Mulder says suddenly thinking of something. "I think we locked Mrs. Graves in a closet." "Oh crap. Do you think we should let her out now or later?" Reyes asks. When they all stare at her, she shrugs. "I’m afraid she’ll kick us out if we let her out early." "It’s a risk we’ll have to take." Scully says resignedly." We can’t leave the poor woman locked up." * Fortunately, Mrs. Graves is so relieved that the demons are gone that she doesn’t make them cancel the prom. "Are they gone for good?" Doggett asks her as he helps her stand. She shakes her head. "They’ll be back. But it takes them years before they gain the strength to. Hopefully, by then I’ll have someone raze this building before they can. I wanted to retire anyway." She too glances at a clock. "You’d better scoot! It’s only an hour before your prom starts, and none of you are dressed for it." They all apologize again, then rush out of the building. ** An hour later "Why is it the girls go to the bathroom groups?" Doggett asked watching Fowley and Reyes as they make a hasty departure. Scully shrugs. "It is probably going a talk some crap about you. Have you done anything to piss her off tonight?" "Very funny." "I'm not kidding." Scully tells him. "I'll go get us some punch, okay?" Mulder says hoping to head off an argument at the past. Or another one – Scully and Reyes have no idea that he and Doggett had a friendly dispute earlier over who’s girlfriend looked better: Scully in her silky green dress or Reyes in her sparkly silver one. That argument concluded in a draw. "Thanks Mulder." Scully says with an appreciative nod. "Wait for me." Doggett tells him. "I wonder what the odds of someone having spiked it is. My brother said that he doesn't happen nearly as often in real life as it does on TV." The boys have only been gone for about a minute when Scully feels a hand on her shoulder. Not liking the familiarity of the gesture, she whipped her head around, prepared to glare at whoever it is. Standing behind her, Krycek's grin is wide. "Hey." "What you want Krycek?" "I signed the band up to play because I didn't have anything better to do tonight." "What, you couldn't con Sandy into coming to another dance?" Her tone is snide. If it sinks in, it doesn't show. "But if I did have something better to do, I'd say we couldn't perform. Something came up." He adds with a leer. "I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at." The engine her voice suggests that this statement is not true one. "I'm saying there's time needed to ditch that loser Mulder, can spend the dance with somebody better." "So let me get this straight, you decided to ruin Skinner and Reed's, as well as Craig's, evening because you didn't have the spine to show up at the prom alone, but still wanted the chance to pester me. And if your ridiculous proposition sways me, you're willing to screw them again?" Krycek shrugs. "Basically. Sooner or later I am going to wear you down, so I'll take every opportunity that arises." Doggett reappears first, and is both confused and annoyed when he sees Krycek leaning over Scully. Her face is perfectly calm when she reaches out and takes a glass of punch from his hand. Before he can tell her that Mulder has her glass, she has empties the contents of the glass down the front of Krycek shirt. "Tonight is not your night, Krycek." She says evenly, before placing the empty glass onto the table. "You probably want to get cleaned up before you take the stage." His face as red as his shirt, Krycek stomps off without giving her a backwards glance. "So, I'd guess out go get another glass of punch." Doggett says, leaving quickly so Krycek and Scully will both be out of earshot when he starts to laugh to himself. He meets Mulder half way to the punch table. "You've got a helluva girlfriend Mulder." He tells him, refusing to elaborate. ** Skinner and Fowley are sitting at their table, watching the others dance. Not that Mulder and Reyes hadn't tried to talk them into dancing too, but they'd eventually given up, and conceded that they were both happier where there were. When a hand taps her on the shoulder, Fowley looks up in surprise since the people she knows are in sight. A waiter is looking at her. "Are you miss Lindley?" "Yeah, why?" "There’s a gentleman asking for you at the door." The waiter’s eyes glint with humor. "He described you perfectly." "How about you describe him?" Skinner asks. The waiter shrugs. "Tall, sandy blond hair…one of the waitresses said he’s a hottie." Fowley and Skinner exchange a look. "Zane." "I should go talk to him, but…" "Go talk to him. The band should be done soon, so I won’t be alone long." Skinner tells her, giving her a nudge towards the door. She gives him a look of thanks and goes where the waiter pointed. ** "You know, they won’t let you into this place without a ticket." Zane says as soon as he sees her. "And I’m kind of old for a ticket." "You’re not terribly old, are you?" Fowley pats his arm. "Well, I’m not old enough to run for president. Or rent a car for that matter." Zane holds the door open for her as she joins him outside. "I guess that means we can’t elope." She teases. "Not until next year." He agrees sadly. "Since I’m sure your grandmother has the plate number for my car. But we could dance." "Outside?" Fowley sounds surprised. "Sure. I can hear the music just fine, can’t you? Maybe we’ll start a trend." "A couple of trend-setters, that’s us." "I don’t think you give us enough credit." He tells her, pulling her close. "Why me?" She asks, looking into his eyes. They look dark in the moonlight, but an inviting darkness rather than a cold one. "Why do you keep asking that?" He rests his chin on her head for a moment. "It makes people wonder if you've somehow got the idea that you don't deserve it." "Maybe I don't. I've screwed up a lot-" "Who hasn't?" That gives her pause. "You think I'm too hard on myself." He whirls, the swirl of her dark blue dress making the air around them sing. "Either that or you're not hard enough on everyone else. Look, I know you're not perfect. I don't mind, since neither am I." "You keep saying things like that and I might give you the chance to regret it." She warns. "Now that's the sort of challenge I live for." He tells her. She would have replied, but she found his soft mouth over her own and forgot to. ** An hour later "Well, Beer Is Not a Sex Crime would like to thank you for your enthusiasm. It’s time for us to go. Would any of you like to sing a song?" Krycek holds the microphone out to the audience. "No!!" The audience roars back. "Are you sure?" Standing near the stage, Reed’s friends laugh. He sees them and makes a beckoning motion with his hand, and they all shake their heads. Looking disappointed he tries again, and they laugh harder. Eventually Skinner nudges his sister in the ribs, "I think you should sing." "You sing?" Doggett says looking surprised. "She took lessons for years." Skinner says. " Our mom was big into that artistic stuff. Reyes took voice lessons, Tim painted and I took piano. Unfortunately, Reyes was the only one of us to have any talent whatsoever." "I'm not that good." Reyes demurrers. "You’ve got to be better than Krycek, Kitten." Doggett says with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. She glares at them. "I thought we said we weren't going to call me kitten anymore." "No, that's what you said. I never agreed to that." "You're living dangerously, Doggett." Skinner isn't put off by the conversation's sudden derailment. "C'mon sis, show people what a real song sounds like." Turning very red Reyes cups her hands around her mouth and yells to Krycek, "Give me the microphone." He looks a little surprised that someone is taking him up on the offer, but he bows flamboyantly and hands her the microphone. Once it's into her hand she looks out of the audience, turns redder. " I just want you all to know that my brother and my boyfriend are making me do this… you probably don't know this song, but I hope you like it." A whispered conversation confirms that the band, at least, does know the song. The audience falls quiet as the first few notes drift towards them. By the time Reyes opens her mouth to sing there's no other sound in the room but the music. I love the time and in between the calm inside me in the space where I can breathe I believe there is a distance I have wandered to touch upon the years of reaching out and reaching in holding out holding in I believe this is heaven to no one else but me and I'll defend it as long as I can be left here to linger in silence if I choose to would you try to understand I know this love is passing time passing through like liquid I am drunk in my desire... but I love the way you smile at me I love the way your hands reach out and hold me near... I believe... I believe this is heaven to no one else but me and I'll defend it as long as I can be left here to linger in silence if I choose to would you try to understand Oh the quiet child awaits the day when she can break free the mold that clings like desperation Mother can't you see I've got to live my life the way I feel is right for me might not be right for you but it's right for me... I believe... I believe this is heaven to no one else but me and I'll defend it as long as I can be left here to linger in silence if I choose to would you try to understand it I would like to linger here in silence if I choose to would you understand it would you try to understand... Pulling his lips away from hers, Mulder looks down at Scully and grins. "You sure you don’t wish I was Doggett?" "Shut up, Mulder. Or I’ll kick you in the shins." "Okay, I’ll be good. I’d hate to have to explain the scruff marks when I return the tux." Scully just shakes her head and lets him lead. ** Credits Produced by CC, KW and Neoxphile < Voice Over> This episode of Mulder’s Creek featured music from: Lemonheads ("Into Your Arms") Earlimart (“Heaven Adores You”) Papa Roach ("Between Angels and Insects") Sarah McLachlan ("Elsewhere") Stay tuned for scenes from the next season of Mulder’s Creek