Avenging Angel - The Collector's Edition by Junko Mitani (new addy!): mitani3@beige.ocn.ne.jp Rating: NC-17 (for extreme violence, sexual/adult content, and profanity). Classification: X-Files with a touch of Pre-XF. (If you read it, you'll know what I mean.) Date: May 18, 1998 - August 10, 1998 Warning: Extremely hazardous to children under 18. Lots and lots of angst. Doesn't have much to do with the mythology of the show. Those of you who are sentimentalists, you may like this one. Keyword: Statue, Italy, tabloids, sexuality, black magic, kidnapping, rape, therapy, family dispute, and murder. Spoilers: Pilot; Fallen Angel; Squeeze; Tooms; Beyond the Sea; Fire; Born Again and DPO (for stealing a phrase); Darkness Falls; Duane Barry; Red Museum; Anasazi; Paper Clip; Paper Hearts; Tunguska; Terma; The Field Where I Died; Memento Mori; Small Potatoes; Demons; Gethemane; Redux Iⅈ Detour; The Post-Modern Prometheus; Emily; Christmas Carol; Mind's Eye; and Several other fifth season episodes I don't know the names for. Summary: When a phone call breaks a typical X-File case briefing in AD Skinner's office, Mulder finds himself suddenly trapped and be forced to deal with events from one of his first year FBI Violent Crimes Unit cases in which he participated as a consultant and the killers' final victim. With two of the six serial killers escaped and on the run for months, Mulder has no clear understanding of what the case offered him in Santa Monica, except that he had to get Scully off of the case at the first opportunity. Disclaimers: AD Skinner; Tina and Fox Mulder; Dana, Charley, and Bill Scully; Byers, Langry, and Frohike of the Lone Gunmen all belong to the cast and crew of X-Files which is owned by 1013 Productions and Fox Studio/Network. The poetry excerpts are from "In Memorium" by Alfred Lord Tennyson. - Although I didn't quote any of the songs mentioned except for one written by St. John of the Cross and translated by Loreena McKennitt called "The Dark Night of the Soul", and similary the one William Butler Yeats and translated by Loreena McKennitt called "Ce He Mise Le Ulaict? (The Two Trees)" in "The Mask and Mirror" in Chapter 4 and 5, the rest of their titles are: 10,000 Miles (from "Fly Away Home"), Water Is Wide ("Lilith Fair", Disk 2), Stand By Me (Soundtrack "Stand By Me"), Iris by Goo Goo Dolls (Soundtrack "City of Angels"), Angel by Sarah MacLachlan ("Surfacing"), Men In Black by Will Smith (Soundtrack "Men In Black"), Just the Two Of Us also by Will Smith ("Big Willy Style"), and You're Still the One by Shania Twain. All the references I've made regarding the black magic and voudoun (aka voodoo) were taken out of Harper's Encyclopedia of Mystical & Paranormal Experience by Rosemary Ellen Guiley. - Everything and everyone I've mentioned here were used without permission of their creators. However, no copyright infringement was intended. Note: This story is purely an attempt to exorcise my personal demons. I was horrified to realize just how big the demon I was fighting to kick out of myself. I even thought I'd gone mad just reading some of the words that flew out of my mind. This is also the third XF fan-fiction I've worked on, written at the same time as "Red Paper". The story is set before the 5th season finale takes place. The name I use now and here, is a pen name. This is also (probably) the last story I work on while my stay in the US, just as the XF moves out of Canada. Archivists: Go ahead and exhibit this story anywhere you wish, but have my name and date attached. Dedications: A big thanks to every decent agent employed by the Federal Bureau of Investigation for keeping themselves out of the hands of corruption. Another big thanks (and apology) to the city of Santa Monica for my using your city for my selfish and probably grotesque purposes. I don't know if FBI does have a regional office in Santa Monica, but I don't believe so; which is the precise reason why I created such an assortment of love-to-hate characters in there. - A big thanks to David Duchovny for giving me the idea of this story. He talked about his being named after Michelangelo's "Statue of David", then I sort of stole a few bits of the plot out of "Kalifornia". He also said in an interview (I believe it to be an old US magazine cover issue) about a photographer he admires, that he never wants the photographer to take his picture, because he wouldn't be able to stand being captured as honestly as this photographer manages to do. In another US magazine cover issue (I believe it to be February this year), there was an excerpt from his Princeton senior thesis, "Schizophrenic Critique of Pure Reason in Samuel Bekket's Early Novels", where he was talking about how Bekket thought about God in a novel called "Murphy". I've taken some of what I wrote on the eulogy from that excerpt. Those who actually have read the thesis, I envy you. I couldn't even locate it through LION nor Princeton. How'd people get a copy? Guess I just have to become a journalist. - Although the descriptions for the statue I use in the story is in very lovely detail, I've constructed those bits and details from David Duchovny's earlier work (such as in New Year's Day, Julia Has Two Lovers, Rapture, and Kalifornia). Using New Year's Day and Kalifornia were great ideas, because the curves of his bones and muscles were more pronounced; especially considering that the details of the statues are that of Fox Mulder, eleven years ago. More Personal Thanks To: My best friend Lynne Yoshii and The Reverend Samuel B. Abbott of Grace Church (both live in New York City); Sarah Kelly, a Delta Airline employee in Helena, Montana; Dr. Martha Silverman of U of MT Health Services, Justin Ivary of MT Forest Services, Jeffrey Holliday (a Missoula EMT), Jeffrey Ingman of San Francisco (for teaching me never to trust people too easily), Beth Duda of Colorado State University for believing in my gift for writing, Jason Van Hyning for getting me interested in poetry and for 'widening my horizon'; Elizabeth Lipski for teaching me that there was more to life than I ever believed possible, and lastly Bill Miller of Libby, MT for showing me the courage to keep living. Office of the Assistant Director Walter Sergei Skinner J. Edger Hoover Building, FBI Headquarters Washington, DC Present Time... "There's a call for you, Agent Mulder. Should I patch it through?" Kimbery asked Mulder, who looked toward his department's direct superior for a consent. The older man waved lightly, indicating there was no need for Mulder to leave the room and call back whoever it was calling. "Mulder." He announced as he leaned forward on the AD's desk. His partner fidgeted nervously in her seat in front of the AD's mahogany desk. No one called Mulder in this office before, which meant it was a matter of extreme urgency. "I'm Dr. Summers at the County General in Santa Monica, California. Agent Mulder, do you know a Savannah Sarah Waters?" Mulder flinched upon hearing the name. "Yes. I ...what happened to her?" He knew something must have gone wrong for anyone to call him about her. The caller sighed. "You're listed as her emergency contact." Mulder's heart contracted painfully. "Okay, I'll be on the next available flight..." The sound of the doctor's deep breath stilled him. "Sir, she's deceased. Ten minutes ago." Mulder shivered as the news went down his throat like a dash of crushed ice. "She was brought in with a head trauma and spinal injuries after collapsing in a restaurant. We've done everything in our power to revive..." "Thank you for telling me. I'll ...try and get there." Mulder cut her off, not needing another word. Feeling the AD's eyes on him, Mulder couldn't hit the doctor with questions. "The coroner's going to take the body down to the county morgue..." Mulder changed his mind in that instant. "Can you hold the body until I ...we get there?" Mulder spared a quick glance to his partner and the AD, who looked ready to fume at him, but held his tongue until Mulder was done. "Surely. Considering your Oxford degree and FBI credentials, I believe I can let you in..." "My partner is a forensic pathologist and a medical doctor. I'd like to interview the medical examiner and..." "Agent Mulder, everything can be discussed once you get here. There has been many visiting art dealers and specialists sent from art galleries in her place, and in this hospital. She was supposed to be having a party or a press conference of some sort in her place, and I'd appreciate your doing whatever you can to ward them off with your badges." Mulder closed his eyes. He didn't know why in the hell Dr. Summers didn't contact him sooner. As for Savannah, he hadn't even known when she returned to US. Eleven years, when he thought about it, was enough time for anyone's life to be ruined. "Of course. Is her address still at the...?" "Agent Mulder, I'm not sure. But I know she kept her studio in Marvel Avenue..." "I know where that is. Thank you." Mulder hanged up the phone without waiting for the woman's reply, and turned back to face the AD. Scully was already on her feet. "What's this about?" Skinner asked the inevitable and Mulder took a deep breath. "I need to get to Santa Monica, California as soon as possible with Agent Scully. This is a matter of urgency, and although this has a lot to do with an old FBI case, it is also a strictly personal matter." "Go on." Surprised that Skinner was willing to let him finish, Mulder nodded appreciatively. "Savannah Sarah Waters is the name of the deceased. Pronounced ten minutes ago. She was a part of an investigation that the Violent Crimes Unit handled eleven years ago ...as a victim of the serial killers who were hiding up in a Cascade mountain cabin." Wanting to stay no longer than he had to, Mulder looked toward the AD, silently asking for the man's permission to let him go. However, Skinner kept looking at him expectantly. Mulder sighed. "I was there as a consultant, and I tried to convince the agent in charge ...I believe it was Agent Lewis, to let me send myself to take a closer look. I told them I'd be careful, but if I got caught, I'll at least free the hostage. They knew about my degree in psychology and that being my first year, I was more used to being a psychologist than an investigator." Mulder paused again, this time looking at both the AD and his partner. Neither came to his rescue. "Agent Mulder, I recognize this is a matter of importance, but the deceased woman won't go anywhere any time soon. I at least expect you to give me a full explanation before letting you go with such short notice." Mulder again sought Scully's help with his 'jump in anytime' pleading look, but she only moved to cross her arms in front of her chest. Mulder sighed. "...They thought about giving me a crash course in hostage negotiation techniques before I came to join this investigation, which as you know I didn't take. My intentions weren't to negotiate with them, but to let Savannah know we were there, and possibly retrieve her. Convenient for me, the assailants didn't know that they'd been surrounded by FBI rescue team with us VCU in command. The agent in charge barked at me, rightly, to stay where I was. That he'd have my neck if anything went wrong and I got myself into trouble. I lied and agreed to stay behind. The truth was, I knew the assailants would have Savannah killed within two hours at best, and in exactly the same manner as they've done with the others. The agent in charge refused to accept my profile for each of the assailants, and I knew if my profiles were correct, I'd have to go in." "That definitely sounds like someone I know." Scully jumped in, and turned to face the AD. "Sir, Agent Mulder's encounters and testimony are matter of public records, and evidences are stored in our vaults. If her death has anything to do with this old case, I believe we are right in going there as soon as possible." Scully's intention was to rescue Mulder out of his apparent misery, and Mulder gave her an appreciative look. "Two of the assailants managed to escape from jail, and are yet to be caught. I haven't received any conclusive reports from their capture nor internal investigations at the correctional facility. The hospital employee I just spoke with didn't tell me the cause of Savannah's death. It could be anything and nothing. But considering her previous FBI involvements, I'd like for the ME and Agent Scully to make sure she hadn't died of any unnatural causes." Still thinking of Harbor and Pickett on the run, Mulder couldn't afford to miss anything. The AD finally sighed. "All right. Agent Scully, go arrange your flight. Agent Mulder, I can only give you up to a week for this to be over, and I expect your complete report on my desk exactly seven days from today. If you aren't able to clear this matter within the time allotted, I have no choice but to pull you out of California. There are three case files waiting on your desk in your office. Don't forget that." "Thank you very much, sir." Mulder nodded an appreciation and left the room with Scully. Skinner picked up his phone the moment his agents were out of sight, and phoned the VCU to get the said case files delivered to him. En Route Santa Monica... Two Hours Later "Mulder, why don't you tell me about her?" Scully asked as she sipped her soda. Mulder broke his gaze away from the window and turned to look at her. He pursed his lips, looked away again, and said nothing. Scully sighed her frustration and returned to the studying of the old case files. Mulder was still furious that Skinner had those files delivered to himself, then the copies for Scully to pick up at the bureau's travel office. That, the AD had gone behind Mulder's back. 'At least she didn't have time to watch the tapes.' Mulder thought grumbly. If she had, Mulder wouldn't be able to face her. "Mulder?" Her voice again broke through his reverie. "What?" He replied a bit too jumpy, and Scully narrowed her eyes. "You kept calling her Savannah. You very rarely do that. In fact, I've never seen you do that in front of Skinner. What's bothering you so much? These case files don't have anything but hard evidences and what was said about them by witnesses in courts. This was one of your very first cases, and you weren't even the primary. I need to know more, so I know what to look for." Not dare telling him how much the case files appalled her, she asked him anyway. Mulder bowed his head and swallowed hard. "How much do you need to know?" This was another thing she never heard from Mulder. And his defensive attitude didn't help her any. "Everything you can tell me." She had to believe he would be honest with her. "I don't want any audience. Wait until we get a car." He said, indicating the sparsely occupied seats around them. She sighed. If he wanted to wait, she'd spare him as much time as she could. "Yeah, and I hear them snoring. ...Fine." The case in itself was appalling not only because of the violence inflicted on the victims, but because of the cruelty behind them. Each six victims were beaten, raped, and strangled before their deaths. But exactly an hour after each rape, the victims had been taken away what they most treasured about themselves. The first victim was a high school music teacher and the man got his hands cut off by the assailants. The second victim was a fashion model turned fashion designer, and she had her face burned. The third victim was a chess master, and he'd had his brains extracted from a hole opened at the top of his skull. The forth victim was an opera singer, and she'd had her vocal cord severed. The file had a note attached, informing the victim hadn't lasted long enough for the assailants to strangle her. The fifth victim was a lawyer, and she'd had her tongue cut off of her. The tongue was later found in her stomach, undigested. That got Scully's stomach flipping. The sixth would-be victim, Savannah Waters. She was an artist, a sculptor, who'd exhibited her sort of a self-portrait called "Avenging Angel" in a state museum of modern arts. The assailants apparently debated amongst themselves whether to take her hands or her eyes. They decided they'd already taken hands before, and took her eyes instead, before the FBI team called in for a tactic move three hours after the deadline Mulder figured to be. Scully didn't know how Mulder got the sixth victim and himself out of the case alive. But the only surviving witness was clammed up and refusing to talk. "Mulder? You didn't take her eyes, and you're not the agent in charge of catching those two serial killers on the run. Their case is so famous, they could be recognized immediately if they decide to do anything." Seeing Mulder was closing his eyes, she tried not to imagine just what were in the videotapes recovered from the assailants' cabin. She shuddered. En Route Santa Monica County Morgue... Seven Hours Later The sound of a folder hitting over the dashboard startled Scully out of her half-dozing state. She cleared the cobwebs from her eyes and sat up straight in her seat. Mulder was driving as before, but he wasn't wearing sunglasses when she last saw him. She then turned her attention to the file suddenly shoved in front of her. Seeing it was another VCU file but considerably thinner, she opened the folder. She gasped upon seeing the attached photos of the crime scene and another victim. Scully was engrossed in the file and Mulder stayed silent the entire time. "Mul..." She never got the first word out as Mulder cut her off. "I was the seventh. This file isn't in the VCU file cabinet, because I kept it in our office. ...The assailants didn't get to finish either of us, but my unexpected arrival delayed the bastards for at least three hours. I didn't receive any reprimand for going against my supervisors' advises, because no one had the guts to face me straight. I proved them wrong, and I got Savannah and myself out alive. We spent the next nine weeks recovering. A paid vacation. They thought about locking both of us up in some mental institution. But once they viewed the bastards' tapes and reported events at the hospital where we were treated for our ...injuries, it was clear that they didn't need to. Not as long as they let us spend the down time in each other's company." Scully focused on the blue sky lay just out of the windshield. It didn't take a medical doctor to guess what happened within the nine- week period. "Why did they let you two be in the same room? I mean, you had to watch each other in pain and everything..." "What pain could be greater than what we'd gone through? None. When they discovered us, I had us wrapped in a blood stained sheet. She was clutching at me with every ounce of strength left in her, and I was doing the same to her. It took four paramedics to get us separated. The clinical psychologist at the hospital saw us calling out each other's names, especially at nights and whenever the knock-out drugs wore off. Not to mention both our repeated requests to get rid of the walls that separated us. So she allowed us together for about two days, saw improvements, and kept us together." "...What did they try to take from you?" Scully knew Mulder expected her to ask him this. "My heart." "Your...? Why?" His answer startled her, considering the assailants knew nothing about him. But then, they could've beaten a lot of words out of him in the three hours. "Because they thought that was my gift. I was forced to talk ...about what my life was like. I couldn't dare tell them that I was an FBI agent. So, inevitably, I had to talk about my personal life. I told them about Samantha's abduction, about Phoebe's betrayal, about my parents' marriage collapsing... All before telling them I had a Ph.D in psychology. That got them asking me all kinds of questions about the field of study, and my photographic memory helped. I talked, then talked, and talked. For as long as they listened. I figured if I kept them entertained, Savannah wouldn't have to die. I could hear her in the next room, sobbing or screaming. I wish they hadn't kept us so close to each other right then, but I didn't dare tell them that. If I had, then they would know how much it would've bothered me to watch them torture her. But it was only a matter of time before they'd purposely put us in the same room. Even when we were in separate rooms, I couldn't bite back a lot of my physical responses. She'd have heard me screaming through the walls. Hell, the agents outside eventually heard us when they noticed I was missing and got closer." Mulder kept driving, but Scully wanted him to pull over and let her drive. "Mulder, why don't you pull up to the shoulder? I'd like to drive us." She fidgeted again in her seat, watching as Mulder swallowed hard but didn't move. She didn't want him to think she worried he'd go into the fantasy island, but it was a possibility. Apparently, Mulder sensed her distress and grinned knowingly. He wordlessly pulled over to the shoulder and climbed out of the car, followed by Scully on the other side. "Are you sorry now that you asked me?" Mulder said as they passed each other in front of the car. Scully placed her hand on her hip, and gazed at him. "No, I'm not sorry I asked. I'm sorry this happened to both of you. And I'm sorry you lost such a good friend. But I must admit as a medical doctor, that you shouldn't be driving right now. Not in your condition. And I appreciate your going with my request." Scully reached up and touched a side of his cheek. Mulder nodded slightly, and climbed into the car from the passenger side. The moment the car started again, Mulder went on with the rest of the story, this time without being asked nor asking for her consent. "The last thing I wanted to do was to frighten her further and send her permanently away into la-la land. I'd have rather be the one to get hurt further than hearing her screams. I did my best to spare her the pain. ...Eventually, they concluded that my 'overly sensitive nature and a broad capacity to feel pain for those who do feel pain', or in short, my sensitivity made me who I am. That, my insights into the mechanism of the human mind got me where I was. "They already suspected they were being sought out by the Police. But they didn't know about the FBI surrounding the cabin. I tried to convince them to keep us as hostages to buy their way out of trouble. I knew it was a futile effort, but trying wouldn't have hurt at that point. Most of serial killers aren't interested in living long. They get kick out of hurting their prey. But Pickett and Harbor were interested. They wanted to get more victims. More fresh blood. So I used that as an advantage, to make them convince the others to surrender. I even told them if I used my psychology degree, I could let them escape death sentences. Which actually turned out to be the case. As I said before, it was my first year. I practically ended up giving them therapies. I got some of them talking about their personal lives. I knew they never stopped taping us, and figured if I couldn't make it out of there alive, at least the others would know what kind of serial killers these men were." "Where was the last known eye-witness account?" Scully asked, sensing Mulder was returning to his 'investigator' mode. "Two months ago, Arizona. An old woman living alone came home and was met with two strangers asking her if they could spend the night in her house. They said they were lost, and they were trying to go home to their mother. The old woman was kind enough to take them in, and actually let them stay for two nights. The day after Pickett and Harbor left, she went into town to buy groceries and spotted the WANTED ads placed everywhere in the nation's newspapers. She almost had a heart-attack when she read what the 'sweet boys' did in their spare time." Scully inwardly winced. "Where do you think they target next time?" Reading his detailed profile, she knew he must've had some ideas but wasn't allowed to get involved in the case itself. "Nuh. They're going for the cross-country killing spree. They wouldn't be able to get much done, though. They always research their victims' backgrounds. The other three boys are still in jail. They can't move quickly as they used to before. If the VCU let me get involved in the investigations, they'd have been caught a long time ago. It's only a matter of time before they quit laying low and start up the business again." "Did these young men have an assigned pattern?" Scully didn't know how to phrase the question. Mulder snickered and dared to guess. "Like who did what to whom and when?" "Uhh ...yeah." He could see the wince on her lips, and sighed. "Scully, I suggest you stay away from the gory details. Personally speaking, what these men do are much worse than Boggs or Eugene Victor Tooms, Loche, or any of the other serial killers you've encountered in your life. I wasn't even contacted when they escaped. Not just because I wasn't the primary investigator or because I was in the X- Files. But because of what they did to me and Savannah. They thought I'd go on my own revenge spree before losing my mind for good. After we were taken to the hospital, the bureau recovered everything. They watched absolutely everything that was on the tapes recovered from the cabin. Each trophy recovered was stored in a glass jar." "You said 'me and Savannah'. What was so different about your situation than any of the other victims'?" Mulder had to be careful with this one. 'Leave it to Scully to read me so well', Mulder inwardly grumbled. "First, we were alive. Secondly, they never took more than one victim at a time until I happened." "And the third?" She just had to know. Mulder shook his head no. "I don't want to tell you. And if I ever catch you watching those damn tapes the entire VCU got kick out of, I'll force you out of my life." This, he regretted saying. Scully took a deep breath in her seat, but she shifted and kept her eyes on the road. "Fine. But that gives me the right to hear the third. If there's a third clue, I'll need to know. If Savannah was killed by those two, then they could be after you. I'd rather hear you say it than hearing it for the first time out of their filthy mouths." "Scully, you're off this case as soon as Savannah's autopsy's completed. Skinner would never contest it. My guess is, he's already viewing the tapes out of suspicion and probably emptying his guts in his trash basket." "How dare you decide when I get on an off of a case!" Scully fumed, but this he had to push through. "Because I care about you!! What do you think they'll do to you, once they figure out how much you matter to me?! Savannah was a stranger. Just because I didn't want to see her suffer, they put us in the same room and tortured us. What the hell do you think they'll have planned for you, and me?!" Scully remained silent, but she grew paler than any snowman. Mulder hated to see the horror in her eyes, but he had to scare her off of this ride at their first stop. "...That still doesn't keep me away from hearing the third." She practically choked the words out of her guts. Mulder decided it was time to spill the bean for her own benefit. "...Third off, until these 'boys' took us, they didn't have the pleasure of forcing their victims to fuck each other at gun point. After all the beatings and torture." Scully nearly lost the control of the steering wheel, and pulled over to the shoulder. "What?! They did what?!" Her face flashed with pure rage, that even Mulder was frightened. "I told you once, and I won't say it again." His voice rose a few notches in response. "You don't have to, Mulder." She added quickly. "I couldn't fake it. They were watching and taping absolutely everything we did closely. If that was a typical bad quality porno; the kind even I stay away from, then I could have faked it. If we both had enough senses left to fake it, maybe we could. But Savannah was half way 'out there' and didn't respond to anyone's verbal command. As much as I'd loved to have my brains blown at that point, I didn't think Savannah could bare experiencing that. As I said before, each victim was subjected to the 'trophy taking' phase exactly an hour after their rapes ended. So, she still had her eyes. I tried the best I could to let her know that I didn't want to hurt her. They'd already hurt her badly, enough that she had several deep gashes left by long knives inside her ovary. I didn't want to be a part of it. But if I hadn't agreed, the last thing Savannah saw would have been my head being blown off. And, as long as I went with the bastards' requests, she'd have a greater chance of getting out of the hell hole alive. I personally expected a punctured lung from my cracked ribs by the time I got done. "She was in no condition to register what I was saying to her, but she later told me in our joint therapy sessions, that she saw the gun pressed against my head, then my expression, and knew whatever I was doing wasn't intentional." "Joint session? Are you saying you two even did therapies together? That's unheard of." Scully was still trying to cope with the shock that just sprang on her. Mulder nodded and proceeded to smooth out her feathers a bit. "Sure. We did everything together to recover. We felt no shame in looking at one another after the incident, and the pains we felt during treatments were mutual. We both went through the works, and I had a two-inch long incision scar on my chest for you know what. She had to deal with the fact that she'd lost her sight, and no one objected when she insisted I accompany her to stay with her at her house. We had a therapist living with us for the entire nine weeks, but she gave us privacy for most of the day. She made us take medications and do the session exercises, but the rest of the time we were together. "The bureau investigated me thoroughly on the fact that I had sexual intercourse with an unwilling adult, but came up with nothing they could blame on me. Besides, Savannah defended me as soon as she heard about my being subjected to professional conduct hearings. I couldn't hide my shock when she showed up, unannounced. She just came into the meeting room and took her seat next to me. We shook hands because we were in front of the FBI panel, but she didn't take the hand away, and instead threaded her fingers with mine. She then placed both our joined hands on the table. We were still on the said vacation, and she must've heard the message left for me in her answering machine. No one said a word after the hearing broke up. We raced to the elevator and we began French kissing inside. No one who was with us said anything, so we just didn't care. After we got out of the building, we raced to her car hand-in-hand and laughed ourselves silly." Mulder smiled innocently. "I think I heard enough. ...For now." Scully got some of her colors back and returned to driving. Seeing that the residual horror on her face had taken its residence for a long haul, Mulder slid his sunglasses off and handed them to her. "I'll sleep a bit. Wake me up when we get there. Once her death was confirmed to be of unrelated cause to the serial murders, we're both safe. You can go home, and I'll ...take care of a few things." Mulder said as he reclined the seat all the way and moved to the backseat to stretch out. This was another act he'd never done before in her presence, that Scully broke out of her reverie and helped him put the seat back up. "Sure, Mulder. Use my coat for a pillow." She said, watching him do as suggested. "It won't be long, though." She added and turned on the radio. Former Savannah Waters Mansion Marvel Avenue, Santa Monica, CA One Hour Later Scully had taken charge of things to be handled at the hospital and half forced Mulder out of her territory to get to Savannah's studio/house. The minute he identified himself to the group of people milling around in the area, they swarmed around him and began attacking him with questions he had no idea how to answer. He had no idea how art dealing worked, and he didn't know who her probate lawyers were, nor how to answer about how he came to know Savannah Waters in the first place. He couldn't dispense any details of the FBI investigations into the serial murders, because they're still on the loose. "Excuse me! Excuse me, people! Let me through!" A high female voice hushed everyone at once, and Mulder was met with a middle-aged, well-dressed woman. "Are you Special Agent Fox William Mulder?" The woman asked, reading from the thick folder in her hands. Mulder nodded a greeting, holding his badge and eyeing the folder suspiciously. "Then, you need to come with me. I'm her probate lawyer." Mulder quickly moved through the crowd, wondering what the woman wanted to know. For a probate lawyer to get to the scene within ten hours of a client's death, there had to have been some kind of previous notice, or an indication predicting this event. "I'm an investigator. I don't know what you need to know from me, but..." Mulder shook his head slightly in wonder, and the woman gave him a look combined with amusement and impatience. "You are listed in her will, sir." "Oh?" This surprised him, thinking of how they hadn't gotten in touch with each other since she decided to go to Italy for a position in teaching. The woman had him seated in a black wooden chair across the round table from her. "As you know, she has no family and her late husband, a Emilio Niccolo in Italy has long been deceased. She..." The woman paused and began looking through the pages and pages of material in the folder. Mulder failed to disguise his uneasiness. 'What did Savannah want me to do?' Mulder reminded himself of the seven-day curfew Skinner put on them. When the woman raised her head, Mulder was ready to pick up his cellular and shoving it in the woman's face in order to spare himself the stress of explaining whatever will be in the way of their investigation to an enraged Skinner. And Mulder had no intention of leaving this place without helping Savannah with whatever he could. "She what?" He asked impatiently. The woman smiled without opening her mouth. "She left you everything. Absolutely everything." Mulder dropped his jaw. The woman nodded understandably, and handed the folder to him. Mulder gasped as he read through every page. "Oh, my God. ...Savannah, why?" He slumped in his seat and muttered to himself. He wiped his face with one had, then closed the folder and his eyes. "I know, I know. This is a big step for you, not to mention responsibility. ...But she thought your being so noble an FBI agent, everything she had would have their suitable resting place." "But, what about the Niccolos? Or her cousins? Why me?" In the end, the question was 'why me?', from beginning to the end. The woman smiled, this time genuinely. "That probably has to do with her work. Especially the final piece." She pointed to the assembly of her artwork, all presumably done after she lost her sight. Most of them were covered with sheets, and Mulder hadn't had a chance to see any of them. The woman, however, had obviously seen them before. Mulder quickly returned his gaze back to the lawyer, now that the mob who'd attacked him before was collectively staring at him. A pounding headache began knocking on his head to announce its pending arrival. Mulder groaned. "She left me the specific instructions to allow you absolute privacy when you view that final piece. She'd taken a few photos for several art specialists who came to interview her, but no one else had seen it. She'd of course told me what it looked like, because I needed the assessment. But she told me that one was eleven years in the making, and that she'd had to change the position and style a few time before deciding." "Eleven years ...you don't mean ...I mean, if you'd seen it, I..." Mulder's question was instantly reduced to stuttering. He knew what the woman was talking about. And everyone else who'd ever seen it already knew who Mulder was to Savannah Waters. That explained the curious stares from a few sets of eyes watching him from across the room. "As I said, she had to try a few before deciding on one. The practice pieces were moved out of her hands by her colleagues before she could destroy them. Her friends thought they were too good to be destroyed, but you know how artists get sometimes..." "Sure, sure." Mulder resisted adding, 'whatever'. "And she's asking you in her will to destroy them for her." "What?" This was probably the hardest task he had to accomplish out of everything else she's asking him to do. He could never destroy what she created. Reading his mind, the woman continued. "She thinks their existence only taints her psyche. She wants you to find them, and relieve her from misery." "Oh..." Mulder was at a loss. "She said her photographic memory had everything committed in her mind." "Huh?" This was new to him. "Excuse me? Savannah had eidetic memory?" "Yes, and according to her, so do you." Her words now made sense to him. "Yeah, I do. ...No wonder she learned to read braille so quickly. She knew how to write simple sentences by the time she left for Italy at the end of the year. I still remember I said good-bye at the airport. ...Ahh, are you sure no one's contesting her will? At all?" In a corner of his mind, he wished someone did. This was a big bomb to handle. "Nope. Her late husband was good to her, but he also had no family and they had no children..." "I know." Not wanting to remember why she couldn't have children, Mulder intercepted the woman's words. She nodded understandably. "So. Congratulations, Agent Mulder. From what I heard, you deserve everything you got." Mulder released a nervous laughter, and thought about what he was supposed to do with everything. "Did Savannah have any idea on what she wants me to do with her ...things?" Mulder tried to think up a few ideas, but he was in too much a shock. "Well, she always wanted to open up her own gallery, but I think the house in Italy is practically her gallery, considering most of her work, including the said practice pieces of the statue are stored there. Before losing sight, she did quite a lot of drawing. They're also stored in that house." "Oh. Okay, then." Mulder mumbled dumbly. The furniture had changed somewhat from his recollection, but the general feel of the place was the same. Marbles for floor tiles, bluish white on the walls, and incredibly high ceilings were just as he remembered. The stairs to the upstairs bedrooms were marble and starling silver. The security railings were made of polished wood. Perfect for an artist who needed space to think and work. The entire first floor, as he remembered, was used for her work and exhibition. "I guess you have some phone calls to make now. I expect you to meet me at my office tomorrow morning at nine. And if you can't make it then, come by around three in the afternoon." The woman handed him her business card, a complete copy of the probate folder. Mulder was exhausted by the time she handed him the keys along with a business card for the security consultant of the house and exited the building. Mulder mutely nodded a good-bye, and didn't move. Until his cellular rang, and at least half the mob searched for their own to see if it was theirs. "Mulder." He mumbled. "Mulder? It's me, Scully." 'Of course, it has to be you.' Mulder thought and waited for her to continue. "I just got done with the county medical examiner, and I need you here immediately." His heart skipped a beat at the tone of her voice. Something was troubling her. "Scully? I'll make it there as soon as I can, but you have to expect some other troubles to be thrown over us." "What kind of troubles?" She lowered her voice. Mulder surprised himself when he tried to speak and something resembling a sob escaped his mouth. 'Oh no, you don't lose it now!' Mulder ordered himself and took a deep breath. "Mulder? Are you all right?" Scully was asking, and Mulder needed to answer sooner or later. Nodding into the phone wouldn't serve its purpose. "Yeah, yeah. ...I'm fine, physically fine. I ...have some people here who need to be chased out, so wait for me there." Mulder didn't wait for an answer before hanging up. He then stood up a bit unsteadily, and walked toward the mob. "I'm sorry about the wait. I wasn't informed of any of ...this, until now. I assume you are here to make assessments of her art work?" Several people nodded, and Mulder nodded back. "And how many of you are with the press?" A few nods. "Okay, I'm in the middle of an investigation, and I need to leave. I can't have you staying here, although I appreciate you all for coming. I have a few ideas about sending her artwork to her estate in Italy in order to renovate the place as her own art museum. You can elaborate on that, if you want. "Some of you questioned me earlier about my personal life, and all of you are probably wondering what's in this folder." Mulder raised the said mystery folder and saw everyone's eyes followed the damn thing. Mulder sighed. "For the record, my name is Fox William Mulder, and I have no intention of leaving my job nor the place of my residence just because this happened. I'll need to get in touch with her colleagues or close friends. I don't mean to be rude, but I'll have to contact those people myself. No one can just come up and tell me they were her colleagues or friends until this investigation closes. I'm sorry, but I need you all to leave right now." Mulder said as he walked up to the door, and no one dare protested. Mulder looked at the manuals and the pages of keyword for every room, storage, and the front gate. And sighed. 'Wait 'till Skinner hears this one', he thought as he climbed into the rental car and left for the county morgue. County Morgue Santa Monica, CA Ninety Minutes Later "Mulder? What happened to you?" Scully asked as she watched Mulder slump into the nearby chair. And stared at her through the dark lens of his new sunglasses. He remained silent, but he dropped the folder on the chair and walked up to her. Then stopped at about ten feet away from the autopsy table. Scully by now had finished cleaning up what she could of the body, but she needed to keep it open until she finished explaining her partner. She hated to be the messenger, but she also knew he'd rather heard it from her than anyone else. "Lots." Mulder said as he watched the still form on the table. Scully had considerately covered the body with the blue sheet, then wrapped the body's head with a white sheet. "What did you find?" "She was murdered." Simple and to the point. Mulder nodded. "Same killer?" "I don't know. I've contacted the VCU agents who'd worked on this case, but..." "They couldn't find the damn kids for months, Scully. Don't expect any progress from them." "I know how you feel. But I contacted Skinner, and he thinks we're both on the target list. He wants both of us under protection." "Then it's time for you to leave, Scully." Mulder took off his sunglasses, so she could see his seriousness in his eyes. "No. I've got us included in the official investigation team, Mulder. Skinner isn't crazy about it, though." "Of course he isn't. The man probably spent half the day in the Men's Room." "He did say he was concerned about both our lives. He didn't say anything that suggested..." "He has the entire fucking VCU to get statements from, Scully! He won't need those damn tapes to know everything noteworthy. He probably heard about every single detail of our hospital reports and psych analysis! He's crazy if he won't let you off. Or maybe he already has, but you're not telling me." "Can't you trust me?!" Now she was furious. "Mulder, damnit! I'm an FBI agent! I'm not a lawyer or an artist or music teacher or a chess master or an opera singer! I'm trained with these situations, and I'm very capable of doing my job!!" "But if you are right and we are targets, they're planning their moves for who knows how many steps ahead of us! You don't want to be on this case. Please don't come with me on this." Mulder inched close enough to touch her shoulder with his fingertips. But she brushed the hand off, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Mulder sighed his frustration and yanked her toward the wall. She gave a startled cry, but he was pinning her against the metal storage unit, his eyes flooding with the trace of the horrors and pains he experienced beyond words. "If they manage to get to us, I can't stand hearing the screams. I can't face the horror of smelling the blood, vile, urine, sweat, and semen I was forced to learn, to come from you! Not to mention watching them raping you, or your being forced to watch me going through the works! You have no fucking clue how much it hurts for a guy to be fucked in the ass and get his dick sucked when he has broken ribs!!" Mulder slashed his arms wildly, then kicked the metal drawers as hard as he could. His shouting voice was only inches away from her face, and Scully felt her knees buckle. His eyes began welling, but they dared keep her in target. "Savannah kept dreaming about how the knives felt in her ovary, and the description of her sufferings during therapy sessions made me vomit each time. Just as she got sick from hearing about how those men's urine and semen tasted in my mouth. Or ...or, about how both of us had to fight to draw our breaths, because their dicks blocked our airways and damn nearly choked us. If they hadn't wedged that piece of wood they had in our mouths, we'd have surely bit their dicks off! Do you understand the danger in this?! This endangers both our lives, careers, not to mention our partnership! I know how strong you are, and where you are vulnerable. But I can't take the chance to lose you. Not to them. Get the hell away from me for awhile, Dana. Go home." "My shoulders hurt." She said quietly, barely above a whisper. He deflated at the statement and gathered her in his arms. She returned the gesture, briefly closing her eyes as he nuzzled the side of her face and eventually planted a light kiss on her temple. "I'm sorry. But I want to stop your pains right here. I don't want you going further." "Savannah Waters died of a massive hemorrhage in her brain. An artery was severed by what seems to be a very slim, sharp object. Most likely made of metal. It was inserted through her left eye socket and stopped just above the hypothalamus. She collapsed in a restaurant, and the EMT didn't catch the cause of death immediately. They only knew that she had a brain injury, and a possible spinal cord injury from her fall down the stairs." Scully kept speaking in the same whispering tone, still cradled in his arms. "Anyone could have walked up to her and did this to her, Mulder. Little risk of eyewitness, and she's a blind woman. Anyone would rule it out as an accident. The small puncture wound inside the eye socket was hidden under the eyelid, and almost invisible. Mulder, if that's the case, it may not have been our boys." Scully said, feeling him loosening his hold on her. "But it's been so long since they'd had the last victims, and maybe those two boys may have had a few unique ideas of their own in how to kill people." Mulder closed his eyes with frustration, but quickly regretted it as a few flashbacks hit him from behind the rids. "She also had evidence of breast cancer developing in her right breast. Which is ...why I believe she wrote out her will in the first place." Mulder flinched. "You know about her will?" He asked, damning those big mouths that leaked whatever information they thought were newsworthy. Scully nodded. "It's been the talk of the place. Although they didn't tell me much, they knew she'd spoken about you at a great length. No one knew it was you, as in Fox Mulder. But they knew it concerned an FBI agent who'd risked his life to rescue her. Apparently, she was working on a sculpture that was based on the event." "I know." Mulder answered, his eyes quickly losing their tension. "I have it." He added. She rounded her eyes. Mulder sighed and retrieved the probate documents. He handed them to her and led her to a chair. "You'll need to sit down, believe me." He spoke as he walked up, again, to the autopsy table where he was sure Scully wanted to explain point by point where the cancer was to be found and the evidence of murder behind the left glass eye. If he'd known she had such little time after her success, he'd have visited her before seeing her dead body. He took a deep breath, and lifted a corner of the blue sheet. And opened it. "She's grown quite thinner than I remember." He spoke, startling Scully out of her reading. "Yeah. Well, it's normal. Considering her state of health." She replied without looking up. "She had photographic memory, Scully. And she didn't tell me. Which makes me wonder if the assailants purposely picked gifted minds and talents as victims." "Possible, but only the three of the seven victims had photographic memory. The third being the chess master." "Yeah, I remember." Mulder said as he kept studying the body. "How progressive was her cancer?" "She probably had less than six months. Like I was." Scully regretted saying the words, but it was easier than explaining what that woman must've felt like each morning. She still kept her eyes on the folder. "Okay." Mulder said as he picked up the sheets to cover her back up. He'd known every inch of the body that lay opened in front of him. But he didn't know her as a wife or a painter nor a teacher. He tucked in the corners of the sheets with care, and finally went on to remove the white sheet covering her head. He knew that for Scully to examine brain injuries, the head would have to have been open. He was right. But he stood his ground and focused on her face and the curve of her jaw. Her hair had been shaven for the examination, and he tried to picture it as he'd remembered. "Did she have long hair or short?" He had to ask. "Uhh ...shoulder length." To this, Mulder raised his eyebrows. She'd had her hair shorter than his when he was with her. "She's still adorable." Mulder mumbled, gently tracing the shape of her jaw, then tracing her eyebrows. "Yeah, she was quite an eye-catcher." Scully instantly regretted her words, and visibly winced when she finally looked up to see Mulder's tense form. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I didn't mean it that way. I..." "Scully, stop. I know." Mulder said as he bent down and kissed on Savannah's forehead, then wrapped her head back carefully. Scully watched the scene with amazement. She'd never seen him do this. But again, she'd never known them when they were together. Mulder released a long, exhausted breath and slumped into the chair next to her. "Congratulations, Mulder. You can retire and go on a world tour with the rich and famous." Scully grinned as she handed the folder back to her partner. Mulder swallowed hard. "I don't know about this, Scully. I need your help, but I don't want to risk you. If what you thought was correct, there must be a few loads of enemies Savannah had in her life. Maybe someone was jealous of her talents, and maybe the money she had was an obstacle. She didn't come from a happy family, and she wasn't exactly the pedigree that some wealthy people would want to have in their family. I need to know why Emilio Niccolo died, and whether his loving Savannah had created some controversy in the man's family." "And it still could be the serial killers that committed the murder. ...Looks like we've got some work cut out for us." Scully muttered, starting on sewing up the opened body before calling in the interns to do the clean-ups. "Can you come with me to the probate lawyer's office tomorrow at nine? I don't want to face them and the mob alone." At this moment, Mulder looked more like a lost boy asking if his mother could come into the school building with him on his first day. Scully nodded a yes. "Sure, I will. I know the weight of this responsibility you are facing, and the pressure that come with investigating the death of someone who was close to you. Skinner may have some problems, though. Not just time wise, but that you maybe too close to her to investigate this without bias." Mulder nodded his understanding, and picked up his cellular to contact the AD personally. "In the mean time, I guess we can forget about the motel rooms. I have more bedrooms than I ever dreamed of having. You can come with me and stay at the house. But remembering these security details is a bitch." Scully gave a chuckle in response, and patted him on his back before heading for the locker room. When Scully returned, the assistant was done cleaning up and readying the body for the funeral house where Savannah desired to be sent to. It was good that Savannah had left exact instructions for Mulder on how to take care of her funeral details. The body was to be released to him immediately after the autopsy, and Mulder was glad the task was done. The toxicological data was to be analyzed by tomorrow morning, and she repeatedly reassured Mulder that everything was done, and there won't be any need for exhuming her grave once she was buried. He called the priest whom Savannah had designated, and informed the man of the situation. They agreed to meet each other in two days, when the funeral was to be held at the grave yard close to his church, where eulogies were to be delivered and the sermon preached. Mulder was also instructed to go to Italy to participate in the memorial service to be held by her colleagues, who were already supposed to be notified by her lawyers upon her death. Mulder's headache increased at the news. He couldn't speak Italian, nor knew anyone who could translate his speech for him. But then, he figured there must be at least one of her friends who could help him. Former Savannah Waters Mansion Marvel Avenue, Santa Monica CA Evening - Same Day "Oh, Mulder! This place must've cost millions to build! Not to mention the furniture." Scully exclaimed, coming to a much clearer understanding of what kind of responsibilities were suddenly placed over her partner's shoulders. "Take any room. They all have a fantastic view of the city and the distant hills." Mulder said, dropping their luggage at one of the living room couches. Scully took slow steps, drinking in the sight of the interior. "My Mom would really love to visit you here, Mulder. If you don't mind..." "Scully, I'm staying where I live. I won't leave the job, and I won't move down here." "Then you can come back here on the time offs and the holidays. Maybe invite your mother..." "I'd rather invite your mother down here than my own mother." Scully sighed. It seems that he wasn't interested in being cheered up. "Well, it certainly is closer to San Diego. I can maybe drop by after seeing Bill Jr., and Matthew." Mulder didn't know why so suddenly Scully was engaging herself into family talks. "Sure, I won't be in here much, anyway. I ...everything needs to stay as it is. I don't know what the hell to do with this house. Savannah didn't leave any instructions on interior stuff." "What about the house in Italy? You should visit. Florence is such a beautiful city, you know?" "Did you want to go there, Scully?" He just had to ask, thinking how it nice it would be if she could accompany him to the memorial service and eventual opening ceremony of the museum. She walked down the stairs, back into the living room. "I don't know if it's the same for the boys, Mulder. But every girl in the world would at least dream about visiting romantic places once in their life. Paris, Venice, Florence, Tahiti... You know the deal." Mulder followed her closely and nodded. "Sure. I loved London, and the England's country side. But personally, I loved Scotland." "Oh, you lucky dog. I'd love to visit there. And Ireland, of course." To this, Mulder had to laugh. "Of course. You and your mother would be their idols. Not to mention your brothers..." "They can drink all they can handle." They laughed together, and high-fived. "Sigh no more, lady. Sigh no more." Mulder quoted Shakespeare, and watched her freeze on spot. "I'm instructed to direct her funeral service in two days, as well as the memorial service to be held in Florence. You're coming with me." "But..." "No buts. Neither one of us can be alone in here or in DC, Scully. You know that as well as I do. You can invite your mother if you want, and she can see the city with you while I get to chat with her friends there. Maybe I'll do some of the interviews." Mulder wanted at least Dana Scully to be with him in Italy. "That's a great idea, but not my mother. Not when serial killers are on the loose, and not when there's the potential of family war breaking out." Scully's concern was genuine, and Mulder nodded. "But you're still coming with me, aren't you, Scully? I'll get you the airline ticket." "Ohhh... All right, all right. But I don't speak Italian, and neither do you. We might be ridiculed and made fun of. I can't look forward to that." Scully was wincing at the image, and Mulder joined her in heart. The exploration of the kitchen which eventually followed, revealed the fridge to be filled with food that would at least last them a week. Not to mention the rows of ice cream cartons, all fresh and very high in quality, that Scully found. "The hell with diet restrictions. We need some treat in our lives." Mulder said as he filled a large soup bowl with at least four scoops of ice cream, each scoop from a different container, and shoved it in front of Scully. "Mulder..." She began shaking her head no, but he kept shaking his in return. "I'll get my own favorite flavors, and I'll race you to the bottom of the damn bowl." Mulder smiled triumphantly and began taking out four more containers in addition to the ones already on the counter. Scully watched in disbelief as he began stuffing himself with the frozen treat. She stared at her own pile, and got to work. Former Savannah Waters Mansion Later at Night It didn't take more than a few hours for Skinner to return Mulder's call. Mulder had left the man a message since Skinner was tied up with a meeting. Both Scully and Mulder were reviewing the autopsy report again when Mulder's cellular rang. "Agent Mulder, what is this I hear about an investigation?" The man jumped right in. Mulder grinned, thinking about how to break the news. "Sir, the details of Savannah's autopsy revealed she had been murdered. I'll put Scully on the phone to explain her findings, but before that, there's something I need to tell you. There maybe a few people who'll be bothering you with questions about me. ...Savannah was a cancer patient before being murdered, and she'd left her will with a probate lawyer. Scully reports that Savannah had no more than six months to live, and she was trying to get everything set up." "Was the murder committed by the two escaped convicts in question?" "We don't know, sir. She was killed with what Agent Scully believes to be a slim metal object, inserted through her eye socket. The only object those convicts had in possession while we were held were some blades they used to cut up Savannah's ovary. I didn't see much of them, but they may have had weapons resembling the murder weapon used in this murder. We just know too little to jump into any conclusion." "What was that about some 'questions' you told me to be aware of?" This was the fun part. "Well, sir ...I was completely unaware of her feelings for me, but ...she left me everything. And I mean, everything she owned. They're all listed in her will, and I'll need to take care of a few things in regard to this ...development. No one's contesting her will, but I'm going to investigate her family connections to see if Savannah had enemies. She could have had many of them, considering how famous she was in her field." "Agent Mulder, this is a hell of a de-tour." "Yeah, ...I mean, yes, sir. But if she wished me to take care of everything ...after everything we've been through, I'd like to do whatever I can for her." The line stayed silent, and Mulder chose to continue. "In the mean time, I've inherited this huge mansion I've stayed with her in Marvel Avenue, and there's about half a dozen bedrooms in the second floor. The first floor is entirely for her work and exhibition. The outside has a pool we used as a part of our physical therapy programs. I felt kind of foolish booking us motel rooms, so I'm letting us camping out in here. Tax payers will be mailing us cherry bombs if they learned we've wasted their money." Mulder carefully under-played the fact that Scully was staying in the same house as himself. When no reply came, Mulder sighed and decided to humor the man a little more. "Sir, I'd like to stay with my job, at the same address, and I don't want a transfer anywhere. However, I'd be happy to have you and your wife here any time..." "Agent Mulder, that's enough." The man's frustrated sigh could be heard over the line to Scully, who sat next to him and grinned. Mulder grinned back and handed her the phone. While Scully explained the details of Savannah's autopsy, Mulder mouthed a 'I'll talk to you later', and left the large living room to enter the exhibition room. The probate lawyer told him to have absolute privacy when he first sees the 'final piece'. He remembered the titles of each piece Savannah has done in her life, but the final piece didn't list any title. Not even 'untitled' was written on the list, which meant she asked the woman to deliberately leave it blank, though the piece did have a name. Mulder just hoped it wasn't his real name. No beautiful artwork would go with a name like Fox William Mulder. But then, she didn't name her self portraying piece after herself. She'd named it the Avenging Angel. Mulder wondered why, but knowing her rough childhood, maybe pursuing the meaning of beauty in humanity was her act of rebellion, or a vengeance. And she certainly was like an angel to Mulder. He came to a stop at the group of statues standing against one wall, all wrapped in sheets. Mulder didn't know which one was which, so he decided to start uncovering the one from the very right. He cut the ropes and pulled the sheets off one by one. And was met with the statue of a masculine man, who was clearly not him. Although he was fascinated by its beauty, Mulder moved onto the next piece, not wanting Scully to sneak a peek before he found the said 'final piece'. He uncovered the second one, and was met with a woman's statue. Seeing it wasn't and couldn't have been the 'Avenging Angel', he studied it for only a few seconds and moved on, promising himself to take all the time he wanted later. The third piece was of a child, holding a bird in his hand that was cradled against his chest. Mulder studied the piece for a minute or two, recognizing the purity and innocence, not to mention affection that was close to compassion, in the boy's face. 'Imagine doing all this just from touch.' Mulder thought. There were only two pieces left, and Mulder hesitated. From reading the folder of inventories, he knew she'd donated the 'Avenging Angel' to the state museum of modern arts, thus it wouldn't be here. He felt almost afraid to uncover what was supposed to be the statue of himself. It meant Savannah had spent the last eleven years remembering and reconstructing him; not just the physical aspects of him, but also what made him who he was. He didn't know if he could face himself through Savannah's eyes. He took a few deep breaths, studying once again the other pieces she'd done and the meticulous detail in which she reconstructed the subjects. When he felt strong enough, he took the covers off the second last piece. It was of an old man, holding what looked to be a damaged armor in his hands. A broken sword was laying at his feet. Mulder released a breath of relief and anxiety. It meant only one thing. The last piece was the 'final piece'. Mulder was about to pull the ropes off of it when he heard a knock at the door, and Scully came inside. "Scully, I need to be alone for a while." Mulder said before Scully realized what he was doing. "Oh, I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't too late." She apologized once she realized what the room was used for. Then gasped upon seeing the other sculptures. Mulder sighed and waved her inside. "I need to be absolutely alone when I see this last piece, but the others we can see. Come on, they're all beautiful. You like art museums, so Savannah would be happy to let you see them." Mulder said, motioning her to advance further into the room. She complied in an instant. "My God, they're amazing!" Scully was breathless in the face of such strong expression of beauty. While Mulder slipped into a reverie, Scully took her time studying meticulous detail of each piece. She could only guess what the 'final piece' might look like. She was particularly intrigued by the statue of the child with a bird, and spent nearly twenty minutes just thinking what the piece represented in Savannah Waters's short life. "Done?" Mulder's voice from behind her sounded so close, so loud, Scully jumped. "Huh? ...Yeah, I, uh ...I might take another look later, but I know you need to see the last one. I'll get ready for bed, and I'll see you in the morning. Just tell me if you need anything." Scully said as she walked to the door. Mulder nodded with a small smile of gratitude. "Good night, Scully." Mulder appreciated her closing the door after her. The smile evaporated from his face once he turned back to face the statues once again. He swallowed hard, and again readied himself. Cutting the rope seemed to take forever, and the hands that pulled the sheets trembled slightly. He rarely felt so vulnerable in his life. But after taking a quick deep breath, he yanked them all off in one motion. And forgot how to breathe. It couldn't have been him. It only looked like him. This man could never be him. And yet, he knew it was him. The sudden waves of dizziness threatening to take over him made Mulder take a shuddering breath. He numbly sat down on the floor, and stared up at the silent statue. A smile broke over his face after the initial shock settled over him. Surely, he'd never looked more beautiful in his life. If anyone looked at the statue and never known Fox William Mulder, they'd think he was some sort of a mythical figure from a Greek legend. He felt like dragging everyone at the headquarters into this very room, and show them the statue. He'd then thought about taking the picture of this statue and use it for his I.Ds, then mail one to Phoebe just to spite her. When he rested his head on his palm, he came eye to eye with the title curved at the bottom of the stone, in its designated space. And felt his face flare up with embarrassment. Surely, it couldn't be him. Could it?? Messiah, the name plate claimed. An anticipated savor and/or a liberator. The one who is 'expected' to be a savior in Judaism belief system. The statue was standing with his back slightly bent forward. Its left foot was a step in front of the right, and its right hand extended forward as if reaching out for someone he'd sworn to save next. "Oh, Savannah." Mulder mumbled to himself his face still burning from embarrassment. Scully couldn't see this one. There was no way he was going to show this one to Dana Katherine Scully. For one, the figure was nude. However, Mulder had to admit Savannah did remember absolutely everything about his body. She'd curved in a few veins she'd felt on his arms and legs. She'd even known how long his hair was, and how they were styled. He just had to laugh upon spotting the mole on the statue's lower right cheek. Everything from the curve of its nose to the point of the chin, the collar bones and the contour of the rib cage were a meticulous and perfect match. The curves of his abdominal muscles and the round dent of his navel in the center were unnervingly innocent. For such a meticulous work of art, everything about the statue pronounced its right to exist. Hell, she'd even gotten every detail of his testis and scrotum right, not to mention the vein that showed on the bottom of its penis. If Tina Mulder was to face the statue, she would have another stroke, and probably beg him to put a pair of boxers on it in her will. The statue's feet were another area to applaud for. The toes were digging into the ground with no energy to spare. The detail of each joint of each toe were meticulous, including the toe nails. The curves of each ankle showed the exact detail of the bones and veins pulsing under the skin, looking ready to take any necessary action but never ready to surrender. Clearly, they were the feet of a warrior. Numbly getting back onto his feet, he walked around to the statue's back, and was faced with an equally mesmerizing portrait of a man he was eleven years ago. The shoulder-blades and the trace of ribs lined evenly, and each vague contour of its vertebrae underneath the layer of skin were curved in without any room for speculation nor cheating. The way the statue's back was bending enhanced the detail of those backbones, making each rise and fall all the more intriguing. The strength shown in the detail of its lower back muscles were obvious though without exaggeration. On the back of its thighs, the curves flowed smoothly as on his body, leading to the joint of the knees. The bit more complicated features of his calves were a bit smoother, again, on their back side. Savannah clearly did not wish to elaborate nor fake a single detail about Mulder. He genuinely appreciated the fact. The back of the left ankle where a numerous band of nerves and tendinous gathered, she curved the detail of how they were positioned while its heel was slightly tilted upward, in response to the bent back and the reaching right hand. Mulder felt almost seasick at this point, thinking how exactly she knew his body so well, and just how much it took to reconstruct such seemingly- insignificant details. The other reason Mulder knew this statue had to be portraying him, was the neatly curved incision scar on the center of his chest, where he'd been cut. How Savannah knew its exact spot was a mystery to Mulder. He recalled the sharp pain of the blade as it cut through his skin and a bit of flesh. And Savannah even had the insight to curve a drop of blood seeping out of the wound. She knew he'd bled quite a bit out of the wound, so Mulder figured that to be one of the reasons. But he knew she'd added that detail for the reason why the wound was created in the first place. The assailants thought his gift was his heart. But what was the most intriguing about the statue was the detail of its eyes. Not many, not even Michelangelo's Statue of David had its iris curved out. But this one did. The eyes were so expressive, not even Mulder himself couldn't help but be drawn into them. The eyebrows enhanced the strength in which those eyes held, but the slightly lowered eyelids brought out the gentle nature more than the aggression in those eyes. The statue's eyes clearly belonged to a man who you don't want to be caught red-handed. And yet they loudly demanded your reasons and strived to achieve understanding. To keep peace without betraying justice. Mulder certainly didn't feel like deserving the title of a messiah. He was expected to be a savior every day because of his profession. That much he could feel he belonged to the statue's purpose. However, there were so many failures he'd caused in his life. Mulder silently wondered if that was the reason she'd added the scar over his heart. Although he knew the statue will be standing in plain view of the world sooner or later, his lingering feeling that he hadn't lived up to the honor this statue held prompted him to cover up the statue with the sheets again. Office of the Probate Lawyer Santa Monica, CA Next Morning "Just sign these papers, please. Everything will be official, and your plans for remodelling the estate in Italy as Ms. Waters's private gallery will be your personal responsibility. Just don't forget to mail me the invitation." The woman smiled as a tease, and handed Mulder the pen. Next to him, Scully was smiling her reassurance. The sound of the pen running over the papers felt unnecessarily loud in his ears. "There you go." He slid the pen with the papers across the table to rest at the woman's hands. "Thank you, Agent Mulder. ...Have you taken a look at the statues, yet?" The woman asked, obviously wanting to hear its model's response. Mulder closed his eyes and smiled shyly. And nodded. "Yeah, yeah. ...I have to say, I never looked more beautiful in my life." The woman blushed momentarily, but she quickly hid it when she faced Dana Scully's 'I'm missing something important' look. "I don't understand, though. I don't deserve the honor that statue claims that I have." Mulder added, then ran his hand through his hair. The woman shook her head with defiance. "I believe you do." She said as she stood up and began clearing the desk. The agents also stood up, and shook hands with the lawyer before leaving. Last night, Mulder was thoroughly thankful that Scully was with him. Otherwise, he'd be overwhelmed by old memories and wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to finish his job. After the shock of seeing the statue faded, he was attacked with an assortment of flashbacks from the tortures he'd undergone with Savannah. The sound of screams, the blood and their kidnappers yelling at him to 'fuck' Savannah senseless. The feel of cold metal on his temple, the searing pain upon each penetration, the feel of his broken ribs brushing against each other... Everything came back as he recalled the opened body of Savannah on that autopsy table. Thankfully, after the assault of all that terror, the good memories came flooding in almost as if Savannah was trying to protect him from the breaths of evil brushing up against his psyche. When he took a shower in the shower room, he remembered how her hands felt on his wet skin, under the rushing hot water. And how her soaped skin felt in his hands. Not to mention the way her lips grazed his, and the way she pressed against him. Mulder smiled as he dried off, and wrapped himself in his bathrobe. As he got himself a glass of juice from the refrigerator, he recalled the way she cooked her omelette and a broiled snapper just two days after their discharge from the hospital. He'd gone to sleep in the same bed he'd slept with Savannah, under the same bedcovers and recalling the way her heart beat under his ears. Contrary to his fear, he didn't suffer any nightmare. "Mulder, can I see the statue now?" Scully demanded like an impatient child who's wanting to drag her father into a roller-coaster ride at an amusement park. And, like the reluctant father, he bit his lower lip and said nothing. She sighed her frustration, and climbed into the driver's seat. She was carrying the picnic-basket sized metal jewel box full of Savannah's personal collection, and Mulder was going to store it all into Savannah's bank safety deposit box, which had its reluctant new owner. "I'll give you a clue why I don't feel up to showing it to you. The statue was named 'Messiah'. An expected savior. I don't deserve the title. At least not until I get my sister back." Mulder said as he parked the car into the parking lot of the bank. Scully stayed silent, but patted him on his shoulder as they walked through the front door of the bank. When he opened the jewelry box to move its contents into the deposit box, Mulder remembered several of the vast collection he'd seen Savannah wear. Even after losing her sight, she'd kept the ones which were most important to her within her reach. He picked those which he remembered, separated them from the rest, and asked Scully to pick one for him to bring back with him to DC. Scully studied each one carefully while Mulder laid the rest into their new home. Mulder was closing the original carrying box and setting it on the floor by the time Scully came up with her choice. "Will you put it on me? I feel like I'm getting a medal of honor from someone more deserving." Mulder said as he bent down slightly for her to reach the back of his neck. Scully slightly chuckled, and reached up to put the necklace around his neck. "This sword suits you. Why diamond, though?" "She was a Taurus." The answer came, and Scully nodded an understanding. "This should serve well. For a defender of truths, and a messenger of justice." "Hey, you had that gold cross for sixteen years. It's about time I should get a diamond sword." Mulder chuckled, and buttoned his shirt back. He left the tie hanging loosely at where he lowered it, but Scully impulsively reached for it and tightened it back. "Thanks, Mom." Mulder joked, remembering the last time she'd tried to do it in Skinner's outer office. Scully glared at him, but he knew it was only for a show. "You said the statue was named Messiah. But you also said it was beautiful. Why can't I see it?" Scully wasn't smiling, and Mulder had to think his answer carefully. "Because I'm not ready to show it to you." In the end, that was the truth. Scully sighed. "Fine, fine. ...I'll see it when it's out for the world to see." "When I'm ready, I'll drag you into the room and tie you to the damn thing. Then you can cuddle with it as much as you want." He didn't mean to say the last sentence. It was too damn suggestive. But Scully chuckled, and slipped her sunglasses back on. They were going to have to get to the FBI field office, and begin digging into Savannah's family background checks. The next day was reserved for researching Savannah's friends/colleagues connections. All the while, they had the VCU to contact in regard of the serial murder connection. If Skinner wanted them under protection, there wasn't a safer place than the little Fort Knox of the Waters residence. And they were both armed, each with a back-up piece and an extra clip for their Sig Sauer. FBI Regional Office Santa Monica 1 PM Same Day Mulder was twice thankful for Scully's presence by the time he got to meet with the special agent in charge of the office. They were given the copy of the complete VCU reports on Harbor and Pickett then were invited to use every available resource the office had to offer. They both thanked the man, and went on to doing their own research of Savannah's family backgrounds. But everything went down hill from there. First, Scully caught a few rumors about 'old Spooky getting lucky' in the lounge before entering the room and everyone present collectively shut up. Then, like the plot of a cheap B-movie, Mulder was treated to the same assortment of 'Spookster' jokes in the Men's Room before he exited the stool. Then, Mulder made a mistake of going to the lounge by himself to get a bag of sunflower seeds. He was treated to the rumor that Fox Mulder was a bisexual, because Mulder was giving blow jobs to at least four of the assailants, then getting the blow jobs from five of them at least once each in their videotapes. Mulder announced his presence this time by unsnapping the top cover of his Sig hip holster and releasing the safety of his weapon before walking up to them with a sunny smile. Then he sat down at the same table as the increasingly uncomfortable agents were seated, and yelled at them to remain on the spot when they motioned to leave the room. Knowing what Mulder and Savannah went thorough that day, they obeyed and nervously started up a conversation again while Mulder proceeded to clean his gun with excruciating care. Mulder then counted and even cleaned every bullet that was in the clip. As soon as Scully heard about the event from one of the six agents who'd been 'held hostage by Spooky', she yelled at the female agent to gather whoever else was in the lounge. Mulder was ordered by an enraged Scully to stay seated in the main lobby couch while she proceeded to confine herself in the lounge and fire away her frustration upon the six red-faced agents. Scully then gathered whatever she and Mulder uncovered of the background check files. As the stunned agents observed them, Scully stormed out of the building, dragging Mulder behind her. "Agent Mulder! Agent Scully! Stop, please!!" A woman they both recognized as the agents who informed Scully of the incident ran out of the building after them. Scully forcefully pushed Mulder into the passenger seat before turning back to face the flustered woman. "What do you want?!" Scully barked, and the woman dropped her shoulders. "I'm not one of them." Were her first words, and Mulder climbed out of the passenger seat. This time, Scully didn't push him. "How did they get the tapes from the VCU?" Scully asked, her hands over her hips. The woman sighed. "When they heard Harbor and Pickett escaped, the VCU contacted Ms. Waters. She consented to help in anyway she could, and to have a guard around the house. Until then, everyone in the office thought tapes wouldn't be necessary. But the VCU people sent them down for reference, anyway. I ...everyone who was involved in their search watched them all together, but very few of us watched the sixth tape, with Ms. Waters and Agent Mulder in it." Mulder wiped his face with his right hand, and nodded an understanding. "The sixth tape was regarded important not because it was their final crime, but also because it was the first time they took more than one victim at once. They also wanted to know what Agent Mulder's intentions were, and how the two convicts behaved after they figured out they were surrounded by us. It could provide important facts before we make the move to capture them. To see what we should expect about their behaviors in case they returned to Santa Monica to act on Ms. Waters as a revenge." "We're pursuing the suspects with full anticipation of that situation." Mulder said as he leaned back into the passenger door. Scully released a breath, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. The agent smiled her relief for their understanding. "I thought so. Otherwise you wouldn't be here. Look, whatever you need, just give me a list. You don't have to come down here any more. I know how you feel, the awkwardness. ...You wouldn't have much to do here in their office, anyway. If some situation develops, like if we get a lead of some sort, they'll contact you. But for simple errands ...I don't think you should be here." "You speak like you've had some bad memories here, yourself. What happened to you?" Scully caught on quickly. Mulder leaned forward a bit, all ears. The woman fidgeted a bit, and focused on her shoes for a moment before looking up again. "They make everything noteworthy a gossip here. There have been many agents who got transferred because of their misconduct. Law enforcement, tabloids, and criminals dance a beautiful waltz in this state. FBI usually has higher profile cases than local police departments do, so gossips regarding FBI matters are priced pretty high ...as yours were. Although you weren't here for the circus, Ms. Waters's got a whiff of it. She was glad to stay the hell away from this town and stay in Italy with her fiance. Her fiance wanted to see her estate in Marvel Avenue, but she didn't return until a few years ago." Mulder closed his eyes and bowed his head. 'No wonder she didn't contact me.' He thought as he opened his eyes again to see the woman's concerned gaze. "I was a topic of a gossip myself, so I know how you two must feel. I got harassed and turned in an agent. Don't worry about me, though. I'm requesting a transfer myself to the headquarters. I might see you again there." She smiled, and turned to look at the building before turning back again to shake the two agents' hands. "Please, let me help you. Believe me, some of the tabloid reporters even tried to steal those tapes from the office. You don't want to be here any more than necessary, or they'll hound you." "I think it's too late." Mulder said as he jerked his chin to the spot across the street. Scully hissed at the man with the camera, shooting the scene. The photographer scurried away upon seeing Scully and her holstered gun. The female agent shook her head with disbelief. "Savannah Waters was a quite a popular artist, and a very wealthy one. It'll be a matter of evening news by the time you get to leave here. I hope you didn't let them know that you're staying in the mansion." "No, I didn't. Although I believe they already suspect it." "Pickett and Harbor ...they know where the house is located. You'll be sitting ducks if you don't be careful." "The house's got a tight security system, and we might have some guards in at the first sign that they are on to us." Mulder let on, almost hopefully. "I suggest you do that. In the mean time, let me run your errands here. As I said before, contact me on my cellular, or give me a list of things you need and I'll get them. We can meet somewhere quiet and I'll hand whatever you need over to you. I shouldn't visit the house." "Agent Sullivan, do we really need to be that paranoid around here?" Scully's skepticism kicked in, and the woman almost laughed. "I'd say you can't be too careful. Not unless you want your video to end up in some talk shows or in the local porno video stores. Some of the underground night clubs around here have employees who have live sex on stage. You know ...with chains, electric shocks, leather gear and bull-whips. From the looks of your tape, some of the gay porno collectors might drool over it." "Okay, this is my cell number, and the one above is Agent Scully's. We appreciate your concern." Mulder declared finality, shuddering at the images of some psychos getting writhe out of his sufferings. Mulder handed the business card to the agent, and shook hand with her. Scully followed, and they both returned to their car. "This is getting better and better." Scully mumbled as she turned on the ignition. Mulder grunted and slipped his sunglasses on. Any hopes of enjoying the California beach and sun during this stay had just vanished with her appetite. She stopped the car in front of a sport good store, and told Mulder to stay in the car. Still shocked from the revelations he'd just been subjected to, Mulder never complained. Scully returned twenty minutes later with a shopping bag, and stated the car again. "What did you need in there? You won't need sunscreen indoors just yet." Mulder joked, pointing to the sky and the thinning ozone layer. Scully chuckled, and shook her head no. "It's not a hard guess. You can't go on a jog, I don't feel like going to a local health club after what I heard, and neither of us should be at the beach." Scully heard Mulder's chuckle. "I hope you bought bikinis." His chuckle turned to a small laugh as Scully swatted his arm, preventing him from reaching the shopping bag and peeking inside. "Tease me further, and you'll regret it." Her murderous look shut him right up. "Okay, sorry." He raised his hands in a mock surrender. "To make it up, I'll cook us dinner." "What?! You can cook?" Scully laughed, knowing that when he does have the time and ingredients, he could cook a fine meal. This time, Mulder reached over and messed her hair up. "We don't have the chef like Savannah did. Besides, her personal home care nurse did all the cooking. Did you notice all the vegetables in the fridge? That woman knew exactly how to feed people health menu. I spotted a bag of black tiger shrimp, so I had it defrosted yesterday. ...You know, when we had the ice cream eating contest." Scully genuinely laughed this time, remembering how the contest ended in ice cream fight. Mulder chuckled at the memory and continued on. "There was also a bottle of white wine, presumably for cooking purposes. I have all I need, Scully. I grew up in Vineyard. I'm used to sea food, and I have some of Mom's cook book pages memorized. When I was in London, Phoebe couldn't boil water right, so I cooked for her sometimes. Ask her if she visits here in the colonies again." Mulder said as he popped in a sunflower seed he'd bought at the vending machine, in the lounge of the evil FBI office. Scully made a face at the sight of the seed shell. However, as anyone who'd gotten used to this habit, she handed him the ashtray. "Need any help in the kitchen, then?" She smiled upon seeing him nod. "I know you cook well, Scully. But only if you want to. I'll appreciate your audience more than anything." Scully's eyebrows jumped an inch, and Mulder smiled wider. "Mulder, are you sure about what you said back there? About the guards?" She asked as she stopped at a street light. Mulder pursed his lips, but nodded a yes. "Skinner can put some heavy duty gag order on those bastards at the office. I don't want the tapes ending up in anyone's hands other than the FBI evidence vaults, and I don't want any obstacle in the way of our investigation. Not to mention destroying Savannah's reputation in Italy. ...She was an artist and she lost her eyes. She was strong and didn't show much of her sufferings, but that lawyer told me she used to paint. If I make mistakes and her reputation goes down not only in here, but in Italy... I can't bare that." Mulder shook his head, and looked at Scully in the eyes. She swallowed and started the car again as the light turned green. "I'll contact some of my friends in the headquarters personnel office and the communications. I don't want that woman getting any more back glances and finger pointing." Scully saw Mulder nodding in agreement next to her. "Of course she'll be treated to a whole new load of gossips about us, but at least there's Skinner, and no one knows her there. She could start over." "We could chat once in a while. You could call up some people and validate her claim about the sexual harassment thing. Just in case." Mulder stopped trusting anyone long ago, not without validation. Scully agreed, not wanting her to be another Krychek. Former Savannah Waters Mansion Marvel Avenue, Santa Monica CA. 5 PM Same Day The utility companies began calling in to ask Mulder about bill arrangements, making him a prisoner on the phone for hours. Scully already began reviewing the documents they uncovered, starting with the said VCU updated files. Although what Mulder said about the assailants using various types of blades and knives as tools for torturing women victims tugged on the back of her mind, she didn't think such needle-thin tool would be in their possession. The object must be longer than any conventional length of blade, and must be as sharp as an ice pick or a barbecue stick, which makes it inconvenient to carry around. However, the scene of the murder was a restaurant, and restaurants do have lots of barbecue sticks and other culinary tools available. Scully made a mental note to check the backgrounds of the restaurant employees. As for the VCU files, there were transcripts of numerous interviews of the convicts, all of which either angered or turned her a little green on the gills. The younger one of the two liked fantasizing about raping whoever he met in the prison and outside world. Even to his own lawyer who defended him in the court. This younger man particularly got kick out of urinating in his victims' mouths, especially when the victim was a male. The first victim, the music teacher, almost bit his penis off, so he came up with the biting wood idea. He remembered, or more like cherished, the memories of what he did to each of his victims. The first victim had left him with some thrill, but of course, his favorite one was none other than Fox Mulder, because Mulder was the most beautiful male victim they'd caught, and because he was the easiest to have. Mulder went with their requests as long as they kept the woman alive. The interview read: 'Real sensitive guy, that Foxy fellow. Tasted good, too.' Mulder wasn't sexually abused before like the opera singer, nor a homosexual like the third victim, so he got kick out of taking Mulder's anal virginity. Mulder 'screamed real loud, too. Maybe the others broke too many of Mulder's ribs' during the previous tortures. The older of the two also loved raping the victims as other four accomplices, but he restricted himself to the females. This man loved the art of torturing his victims, and that was his specialty. He didn't like getting blow jobs from any of the victims. He loved yanking finger nails off of the music teacher before sewing them off; loved inserting blades into the opera singer's throat to sever her vocal cord; loved punching the big hole on the top of the chess master's head; loved scratching Savannah's eyes out; loved cutting the lawyer's tongue; and loved burning the model's face. A large hand suddenly appeared in her view and placed a glass of fresh lemonade in front of her. Scully jumped with a gasp, but soon thanked Mulder and took a large sip. Mulder settled down next to her on the couch, and took a big gulp out of his glass. "You looked like you needed a break. Or those creases between your eyebrows are going to leave permanent marks." Mulder said as he studied some of what she was reading from his position. Scully sighed and closed all the folders, not wanting him to read any of them. She raised her knees up to her chest, and rested her chin on them. Mulder rocked her sideways like an egg until she fell into his arms, and cracked up. Scully released a small chuckle herself, and uncoiled as his arms wrapped around her belly. "That lemonade tastes good, but different. Did you mix something in it?" "Just a bit of ginger ale. Nothing alcoholic, I swear." Scully smiled, staring up at his smiling eyes. "I know you never drink alcohol, Mulder. Especially on duty. You did offer at one time, when you first met Deep Throat. But you never actually ordered anything in there except for soft drinks. I had a small glass of beer in there recently, but that's all." "Sure. And I know you like red wine." He grinned as she shot him a warning look. "I know special doctor things, Mulder." Scully regretted the instant the words were out. "Sorry, I didn't mean that." She quickly apologized, but felt his arms shifted her to let her lay on her belly. She didn't protest him, and rested her head on his shoulder. He released a long breath, and repositioned his legs to allow her more comfort. "It's all right, Scully. I dealt with those issues eleven years ago. Sure, Savannah's death and those convicts still on the loose get my nerves jumpy. But I have you with me. There's no one better to be here with right now. You do make me feel safe and you've known that for a long time." "I can say the same things about you." Scully said as she closed her eyes and rubbed his belly with her free hand. It was good to listen to his heartbeat. "That's good to know." Mulder laughed softly, and rubbed her upper arm. "I'm sorry I lost it there today. ...In the lounge. I don't know how much of it you heard, but..." "They said you ordered them to sit down while you cleaned your gun and bullets with a cloth." Scully mumbled, sighing her anger toward the six guilty agents out of her system. Mulder stopped rubbing her arm, and shifted her up a bit. "Yeah. I gave them a real sunny smile, and snapped the top cover off the holster and released the safety of the Sig. I never took it out until I got to the table, but I shouldn't have done it. The way they spoke about me really got to me. I know it shouldn't have, but..." "Mulder, they're assholes. They are sorry excuses for federal agents. I let them know we had the Assistant Director for a supervisor." "Go, Scully, go." Mulder spoke as if she was a cheerleader. But she knew he meant it as a gratitude. "It was just me today, Scully. But I can't be sure if I can stop myself from firing on them if they ever speak about Savannah the way did with me. Especially if it happens in front of me." He drew a thinner breath, and toyed with Scully's hand on his shoulder. "Well, then I'll shoot them first with my gun and you can sand-bag them." Scully's voice was devoid of humor, and Mulder seriously considered the possibility for a long moment. "Like we were told, we don't have to go there unless it's an absolute necessity. We'll go to the murder scene tomorrow ourselves. I know the forensics are doing some head-start today, and there should be a preliminary report from the agents who first arrived at the scene, but we should go there ourselves anyway, and I need to get the backgrounds of the restaurant employees. Maybe I'll swing by the forensics department later on, and fetch the results myself." "There's no way we can return to DC in time, Scully. Skinner must be sensing that already." "Yeah, but who can blame us? We're not the ones responsible for their escape. He can yap at the prison guards for as loud as he wants to, but we're out of the target range." "And I still think you should get off of the case while you can. I know it's impossible and I don't want to, but..." "Mulder, we've had this conversation already. I'm not going anywhere until I have answers." "I knew you'd say that, Scully. Just as you knew I had to say what I said." Mulder gave her a small smile, and stared up at the high ceiling. And thanked Savannah for being there for him as he was for her. Scully returned a soft laugh, and patted him on his shoulder before sitting up again to drink the rest of the lemonade. Mulder remained in the laying position, but he took one of Scully's hands again to toy with it. She giggled as he began spreading her fingers and ran his index finger on the sensitive skin in between each finger. Scully brought her knees up to her chest again, so she could sit up on the couch and still face Mulder. "Wanna let me in on what's on your mind?" Scully asked after a few minutes of silence. Mulder pouted and pondered his answer. "Just ...you have such unique hands. I've always loved your hands. They're real miracle." Mulder's tone lowered a bit, and she knew it was a sign that he needed to zone out for a bit. "Thanks. I have my mother's hands, and so does Charley." She watched as Mulder nodded. "Well, I meant more in line of what they can do. ...I mean, you cut up corpses and use chain saws with these hands. I know these bumps at the base of the middle and index fingers are from lifting those stuff and grabbing tools to crack open rib cages. But you use these same hands and fingers to heal your patients, mostly me. You stitched me up, cleaned and dressed my wounds. And you gave me injections when I needed them. You hold your cell phone whenever I call you for with or without reasons. You hold food and knives with these hands when you cook. Then once in a while, you grab cliff surfaces and tree branches with these same hands." "And sometimes I hold down suspects on pavements, punch those who deserve it, and point finger in direction needs to be pointed." Scully concluded and finished her glass of lemonade. She had to break Mulder out of the reverie, or else she'd have blushed enough for him to notice. She'd never met anyone who actually considered what and how much she did everyday. Mulder chuckled at her statement, and let go of her hand. "Sometimes you shoot those who deserve the bullets with those hands, too." Mulder added, grinning to let her know he was joking. That he held no grudge about her shooting him, because it actually saved his life in the end. She smiled, and handed him his still half-full glass. He took it and sat up, reaching for the folders she closed. "Mulder..." Scully shook her head no, but he wasn't listening. "I need to read them, Scully. I've got to rewrite those bastards' profile, and those interview notes you've been reviewing would help me. Besides, as I said before, you're here with me. Although I'm concerned for your safety, you make me stronger." Mulder smiled and bumped her shoulder with his. Seeing him innocently drinking down the lemonade, Scully sighed and looked at her watch. "All right. But only for an hour and a half. You need to start cooking dinner, then." She said as she took out the files on Savannah's family background. Mulder nodded an agreement and picked up the first interview note. Former Savannah Waters Mansion Marvel Avenue, Santa Monica CA Dinner Time Scully watched with fascination as her partner expertly chopped the vegetables and peeled the shells off of the plump shrimps. "I use these shells for broth. They're better than clam juice. ...At least that's what I heard on the TV Food Network. They actually cook, so I got to see their performance first hand. ...Don't ask. I couldn't sleep that night." Seeing Scully's 'hmm, what else aren't you telling me?' look, Mulder quickly added the last statement. "Savannah used to cook omelette with her special non-stick egg frying pan. ...Don't ask this one, either. It's her hobby. Cooking, I mean. ...She loved putting black olives in her omelette. Along with zucchini, wild mushrooms, green or red bell peppers and fresh tomato slices. She put ham slices in mine along with everything else she put into hers. We did cajun style, too, sometimes. With chili powder, avocado slices, some salsa and all the regular veggies. For brunch omelette, she once put in Spanish pilaf. That was great, too." "How did she do all those? I mean, she didn't have her eye sight." "I chopped the veggies, she fried them up in another pan, then I got that special pan out, and she handed me the bowl of stirred eggs. I poured the eggs onto the pan, she talked me through the instructions, and I put the cooked insides into the special pan to be wrapped up by the cooked egg. She used to do all that by herself, of course. Before we were taken. But in the end, it was a beautiful team work." "Was she a vegetarian?" "Not so much before, but after we were released from the hospital, neither of us felt much like buying dead animal flesh. That happened to me every time I came off of tough VCU cases. Cases like this one we're handling. But she thought the transformation must be made gradually, and put ham into mine. In return, she ate pastrami slices with her sandwiches for lunch. But mostly, we ate lots of seafood. As we are now." "It's okay, Mulder. You know I don't eat much red meat. Not since the Clay's BBQ incident." Scully chuckled upon seeing Mulder's expression. "I don't blame you. We've fed on BBQ ribs loaded with alien growth hormones." "Thinking of food, what are you going to do tomorrow? Do you have to invite people down here after the funeral service, or are we going somewhere else? Like renting a restaurant or something?" This was something Mulder wasn't thinking of. "I don't know. ...I don't think we should invite anyone here, as long as this investigation continues. We can't risk too much public exposure. I don't like the idea of the bastards on the loose while we are in the open." "Is the priest notified of this?" "I think he figured as much. I mean, what kind of bozo would think an FBI agent/a potential next serial murder victim would host such a party during the investigation concerning the deceased?" "True." Scully replied. After adding a dash of spice mixture he'd made earlier in a small bowl, Mulder expertly began frying up the hard vegetables such as shredded carrots and parsnips. "These spices smell better when they are left in the skillet for about half a minute." Mulder gave her the tip, liking the look he received from her. Soft veggies such as minced garlic, sliced onion, fresh diced tomato, and black olive halves followed next. She then watched as Mulder poured the white wine and squeezed the lemon juice into the large frying pan. Shrimp were to be placed at the last, since they wouldn't take long to cook. "If I thought enough to marinade the shrimp, it would have tasted better." Mulder said, putting the rid on the top. Scully shrugged, saying it would still taste heavenly, if what her nose and grumbling stomach are telling her was true. "Do you like fresh parsley? I use them as garnish and sometimes inside the skillet. I always see you picking these out of sandwiches and soups." Mulder asked, holding up the bunch of green leaves. She shook her head no. "You go ahead and sprinkle them on top of your share. I'll pass on it." Surprised that he'd actually noticed such small details, Scully had to smile. Mulder got a fresh pair of glasses out of the hooks they lined on, and poured another serving of the lemonade he'd made earlier. "You didn't know I made a whole pitcher of it, did you?" Mulder asked, grinning. She shook her head no again and took her glass. "You amaze me, Mulder." Mulder smiled appreciatively. "Thanks. Six weeks of living together, plus whenever else we could sneak in during the trial with a woman who loves her kitchen would change a thing or two about a person, you know." Mulder said, taking a large sip from his glass. She figured Savannah must have taught Mulder to cook the way she liked since losing eye sight. But she'd never seen him do any of what he was doing right now. She secretly wondered if this place brought out the parts of Fox Mulder that had been deeply buried inside his psyche, especially considering the way in which he threw himself into work and other short, disastrous relationships in his life. Within two hours, Scully threw in her white towel of surrender."I don't think I can eat any more, Mulder. I haven't eaten this good since Thanksgiving." Mulder chuckled and passed her a small dish of mango sorbet. "Ice cream wouldn't go with what you just ate. Trust me, that stuff's a major mistake dinner dessert with this menu." "Mulderrr..." Scully was reduced to whining, and Mulder enjoyed the sight. "Okay, we'll share this one. Come on, Dana." Mulder gave her the first bite, and watched as she widened her eyes and took the second bite as well. Mulder chuckled and gave her the third, taking the exact half the share at her insistence. "You should do this more often, Mulder. It's a delicious recipe." Seeing Mulder shrug, Scully stopped the line of the questioning and got to sticking the rather small pile of big dishes into the dishwasher along with their glasses and utensils. "I have a favor to ask you, Scully." Mulder said as he filled the machine with detergent and pressed the appropriate buttons. "What is it Mulder?" Scully asked in return, closing the dishwasher door and pressing the start button. "I need you to pick something up that Savannah can wear in the coffin. It's not open casket for the reasons we know, but..." "Sure, Mulder. I'll be honored to." Scully knew the uneasiness in which Mulder spoke. Savannah Sarah Waters' Funeral Service Graveyard- Name Unknown Santa Monica, CA 9 AM Next Day The weather was too sunny for such a dark occasion. The priest welcomed everyone, and addressed Fox Mulder with special fondness. While he was delivering his sermon, Mulder got to take a look at the large number of turnouts to commit them into his memory. He needed to do so in case some of them followed Mulder and Scully to Florence for the memorial service. When the priest gave Mulder the chance to speak, Mulder was desperately trying to hold back his tears, because he personally didn't see a dry eye in his sight. Although he'd had a poem memorized for the ceremony in Florence, he'd decided to speak entirely with his words for this occasion. Scully stood next to him, silently gazing down at the coffin and giving Mulder her assurances by her presence. She'd heard him rehearse it the previous night, before they retreated into their bedrooms. He'd asked her to time it and to tell him if it got too long or too wordy. Though Scully knew his tendencies to be wordy, she knew full well Mulder needed all the time he could spare to say his good- bye. Not only because of the tragic circumstances of Savannah's death, but because of its tragic timing. Mulder never had a chance to say good-bye while this woman was still alive. If it was a death by an accident, or in a case of a completely healthy woman being murdered, it was understandable that no one had time to prepare for her departure. However, in this case it was twice as hard on Mulder, because he had learned so recently that she'd known exactly how long she had. Still, she refused to contact him and instead chose to put all the burden of the 'aftermath' of her death over him. So when he'd finished and asked for Scully's opinion, she told him to go on with it. Even in that practice, they both ended up in tears and she'd spent a whole hour holding him. After she came out of shower, she spent another hour at the pool side, just watching him swim his grief out of his system. She only interrupted him twice. Once to throw him a pair of swimming trunks after noticing that he'd been swimming in his birthday suit. At his 'where'd these come from?' look, she explained she'd bought them at the sport goods store along with her swimsuit, because she knew he hadn't expected to get a chance to swim as much as herself. The second time was to say her good-night. She was now thankful that they'd had the speech practice, or otherwise neither of them would have been able to get through the entire thing without falling over one another. "The first time we've met was in the cabin where she was being held. I wished for better ways for us to meet. But as fate would have it, we came to meet each other in such intense circumstances. Like in any such relationship, we didn't last long as lovers. Although I can easily list out the simpler reasons for which why we decided not to continue together as lovers in our roles of life, I know now why we haven't taken that path we once so strongly considered. We were still too young to know where our places were in the world, and I believe one can never be old enough to know the world, because the world was made not to be understood entirely by a single individual. We live the lives that we created for ourselves out of what we were given. And we do our best to make the best and/or the most out of our lives. To make sense of how the world really works. "Savannah pursued art, even after losing her eye sight, to achieve the greater understanding of what made her who she was. To understand where she belonged the most. I believe she found that place not in any geographical means, but within the landscapes of life itself. ...In all the mountains she climbed, in the storms she stood against, in the waves she dove into, and the endless scorching desert she refused to fall over, in life. In the end, it is a world she created, and it possesses a breathtaking beauty in itself. And she's ruled that world very well. I know, because she always knew how to find peace and balance in the life filled with chaos. She knew how everything, including the elements of chaos, needed to fit into the puzzle. "Earlier in her career as a sculptor, she's done what she called Avenging Angel. She used herself as the model, and although the piece was exhibited before we were taken by our assailants, I saw the elements of herself deeply lodged in every part of it. The strengths of will she's shown during our toughest moments in the battle for our survival; the courage in which she's reached out to me when I fell; the compassion and love she's so generously protected me with; the wisdom and capacity she possessed in not only to fight and comfort those who needed those parts of her, but also to be the receiving end of what she's given to the others when she needed to be. ...I've recognized it all within that single piece of curved stone, and I certainly hope that every individual who comes across it will share my vision of her. It is indeed a symbol of humanity, not only of Savannah, but for all individual. In the end, Avenging Angel is who she was, and still is. "I regret the fact that I'd never had the chance to know her as a teacher, a painter, and a happily wedded wife. She'd have made a wonderful mother if she'd had more time. But again, as I said before, those parts of her life were probably the parts she needed to live without my presence, but with my influence. And I needed to establish my mark as an FBI agent that I've become, in presence of my allies and enemies. But always with the influence of my past. "The final piece of artwork she's done as a sculptor, as some of you might already know, is called Messiah. And the statue clearly is based on the kind of influence I've had in her life, as well as what is expected of me. I personally feel reluctant to see myself the way she captured me in that piece of stone. I seriously doubt I ever deserve the title as a messiah. Maybe when I can find my younger sister who was taken away from me decades ago, and whom I've sworn to retrieve and to always protect, I would at least feel as though I am a part of it. But I am very unsure that I would ever be able to achieve the height of her expectations. I can only wish that my doing the absolute best within however much time and resources I am allowed to explore the parts of the world revealed to me, would be enough for her seal of approval." Everybody watched the coffin as it was lowered, and Mulder dutifully took the shovel as it was handed to him. Scully caught the tiniest tremble in his breath as he pushed the shovel into the mound of soil and dumped it over the polished surface of the coffin. Everyone threw flowers in as their means of closure, then the grave-diggers took care of the rest as they began flooding the soil into the six-foot harrow. Mulder silently watched the process until it was done, then poured water over the flowers covering the fresh earth. All the while, Scully watched over Mulder, pondering the meaning and weight of the words this man just spoke. The previous night, this subject left her in her reverie until she eventually fell asleep. This time, until Mulder's arms snaked around her waist and the small of her back. She returned the embrace a moment later, and waited for a few moments before leading him back to their car. Former Savannah Waters Mansion Marvel Avenue, Santa Monica, CA One Hour Later... When they arrived back at the house, however, there was another car parked in the driveway. Which could only mean one thing. Mulder drew his weapon ready as he punched in the security code for the front gate, and watched Scully draw her own weapon. "Go park the car. I'll go take a look." With that, Mulder jumped out of the door and was gone in a matter of seconds. Scully took control of the steering wheel, and watched everything around her like a hawk. Mulder returned a few moments later with a man about Mulder's age. The young man seemed to be trying to explain something, and although Mulder was listening to the man, he never lowered the gun. "This is Mr. Carpenter. He's the security consultant of this house, but he could be somebody else until I ran this man's ID through the bureau data base. Give a call to Agent Sullivan, Scully. We need her help." Mulder said as he led the man through the front yard and to the main door. Scully was already on the phone by the time they got to the door. "So, Mr. Carpenter. I was wondering when I'd be seeing you people. I suppose you are here to give me all the security details not give by Savannah's lawyers?" "Yes. I installed the security monitors and the alarms..." "Yeah, well... I've learned never to trust a stranger until they prove themselves trustworthy. I'm sure we understand each other on that respect, don't we?" Mulder still kept his gun aimed to the man's abdomen. The uninvited guest grew a bit green on the gills upon seeing the gun still fixed on him. "I was just here to reinstall everything ...for your use. I heard there are two serial killers she encountered, and if they're still on the loose, there's no better way to guard the house than reinstallation..." "You know, Mr. Carpenter? You kinda look like one of them. There were six guys, and two escaped. Younger one had hair just like yours..." Mulder even narrowed his eyes for the show. "Please!! I'm not him! I assure you!" The truth was, Mulder knew the younger man wasn't the psychopath he was after. Hell, the man didn't look like any of them. However, knowing what Mulder heard from Agent Sullivan, this man could be an accomplice, the said porno collector, Savannah's obsessed fan, or someone sent by the tabloid publication. All in all, he couldn't be careful. "Your assurance won't mean a squat to me. Don't worry, Mr. Carpenter. I'm sure we can come to an understanding. But first you've got to tell me why you didn't contact me on my cellular, nor during the first two days of our arrival. And you tell me why..." "Our bosses didn't want anyone else other than myself to do the installation. I was booked to the roof, and I couldn't get here. I ...my boss personally hates the FBI, and they didn't bother giving my boss your cell numbers. We got in touch with your headquarters supervisor ...Walter Skinner, I believe, and he told us he'd get everything straightened out. But then, today was the funeral and I didn't want to..." "So, you are a security consultant with a conscience. Why didn't you push this through? You know the FBI can't just refuse to give you information if they're for justifiable reasons." "Well, Assistant Director Skinner didn't know anything about what's been going on here with you and Ms. Waters's will. That got everything delayed." Mulder closed his eyes. He'd neglected discussing the issue with the man. "Well ...it wasn't as important as the details of our investigation, and I didn't want them thinking I'm here on a vacation." Mulder still couldn't believe that the man was who he says he is without actually confirming it. So he never lowered the gun. "I'm a bit curious, Mr. Carpenter. Have you heard anything about Ms. Waters around the shady parts of this town? Somewhere under the covers?" "If you are talking about the psychos who tried to steal some kind of security tapes from the bureau office, Ms. Waters was contacted by the agents here. She was jumpy, and wanted to hire a security guard through us. We said yes, and she spent the next couple of months practically being a prisoner of the palace." This was a bit too much detail to get around without a proper channel. Mulder put the safety of the weapon back on, but still didn't get around to holster it back. "What do you know about it?" "Well, Ms. Waters did get harassed a lot whenever she was out, and even inside the house, there was a couple of crank calls. She restricted herself to the fax and e-mail for a while." "Why couldn't she just get an unlisted number?" "Security breach. It's like a curse. You know what happens to the movie stars and other celebrities. Someone, somewhere knows how to access their lives. Sure, people like me are few of those, but with the modern technology ...anything's possible." Mulder couldn't deny that. Lone Gunmen are the experts. "Scully? How's it coming?" Mulder only spared a glance to her partner, who was still on hold. "They're saying they can fax us the info, but I insisted we get it all on the phone. I wouldn't want us going inside until we're sure." Scully seemed to have grown paranoid over the years, too. "For your peace of mind, I believe there'll be a few financial people coming here shortly. To discuss what is where and who takes care of them." "Uh-huh. Bet that detail sells very high." "If you don't want any bugs around in this place, you better let me get to work, now. I know you already are informed about the ...inheritance. But there's a lot more to..." "I know, Mr. Carpenter. I've lost my father three years ago. Shot dead in his bathroom. Everything was left to me." Next to Mulder, Scully dropped her shoulders and ran a hand through her hair. "Oh. I'm sorry about that." Carpenter lowered his eyes for a moment. "Yes, I'm still holding." Scully's voice broke through the two men's tension, and they both turned to see Scully concentrating hard on the ground. Something she did often when she was on the phone and needed to think. Both men gazed at her, straining to catch whatever was going on. "...Yes. Yes, that should be enough. Thank you." She hanged up the phone, and released a breath of relief. Mulder followed, and finally holstered the gun back. Carpenter looked ready to recite a few prayers. "All checked out?" Mulder asked, seeing her nod. Mulder nodded back, then offered a handshake to Carpenter. "I'm very sorry about that. Let's start this over, shall we? I'm Fox Mulder, and this is my partner, Dana Scully. She's my next of kin, and you need to see that she'll get access to everything in this house, and whatever else I have access to. Including the bank's safety deposit box. Both of us can handle the security details once you explain it to us, but during our absence which would be ...most of the time, I need you people to keep an eye on everything." Mulder's eager attitude toward Scully left Carpenter feel a bit uneasy. He'd never seen anyone give such level of trust to anyone unrelated. He silently wondered if these agents were more than partners, but he didn't detect any sign of direct physical involvement between these two. Those looks that lovers usually try to hide but cannot cover completely, were absent from this match. "Are you sure, Agent Mulder? I mean, it's a whole lot to handle..." The moment he began, Mulder began nodding. "Let me tell you something." Mulder said, his hands on his waist. 'Stand attention', those hazel green eyes screamed. "If you get a call from anyone asking for entry other than Dana Katherine Scully, they need to be checked out. Not even my own mother gets in here without one of us authorizing it. If someone ever comes here, looking for Dana and they claim to be related to her, both of us need to be notified. Once they're proven to be who they claim to be, they're welcome to stay in the house, but nothing further without Dana or myself present." "Sure. That's ...specific enough." Mr. Carpenter raised his hands in mock surrender, and exchanged look of astonishment with Scully. From the looks of it, she never expected Mulder's previous statements, either. "Mulder ...I appreciate it all, but Mr. Carpenter's got a point. It's a lot to handle for one person. I need some time to digest it." Scully's pleading look was understood by both men. "I'm sorry, Scully. I don't have anyone else to trust than you and maybe your mother." Mulder shook his head distastefully. "I know this may come as a surprise to you, Mr. Carpenter. But I've gone through so much with Scully, sometimes we don't need words to communicate. We're partners for five years, and we trust each other with our lives. And as for my family ...I'd rather trust the Assistant Director than my own mother." With that, Mulder motioned the security consultant to the door, and watched as the man expertly disengaged the alarm system and let the agents inside. Carpenter didn't need to have years of experience with watching family disputes and tragedies unfold to see just how strongly Fox Mulder trusted his partner. Two hours spent touring in the house revealed a lot more of the estate than either Mulder or Scully were aware of. Mostly because Mulder was weary of the entire issue, and didn't want to deal with the prospect of suddenly becoming a millionaire. But also for the said security reasons and for the work. First surprise came from the fact that ever since Savannah lost her eye sight, Mulder never even suggested they go for a drive. So, the sight of the back building filled with two cars - one BMW convertible and a black jeep, was a surprise. The swimming pool, as it turned out, had a sauna room in the back that Savannah never used and Mulder never cared for. But it was obvious to the men that Scully got kick out of it. In the basement was the security control room, where Carpenter looked mostly at ease. The agents spent the next three hours learning how everything worked, and how to handle the actual operation. Mulder personally went to watch the neat beams of light stretch out its web, and got giddy thinking how 'out there' it all seemed. Then he came up with an idea. "Scully, what would you say if I bring in a few of my own security consultants? But only in case of emergencies?" Mulder whispered to Scully, out of the earshot of Carpenter. "Mulder, you're not saying..." Scully was already caught up. "Just for emergencies, Scully. Besides, they could use this place as a get-away spot. They could bring in whatever the equipment they want stored in here." "Yeah, but that could expose them. They'll never agree to it." "Not if the Mr. I-Know-Everything is kept in the dark about it. Besides, the security firm could have an info leak. In case Mr. Carpenter knows anyone, or is being used by anyone for foul play, I need to know. The Gunmen are the only ones who can check into this stuff. Besides, we're never really gonna be here that often, anyway." "Oh, well. ...All right, let's have them check every