TITLE: None So Blind (2/5)
AUTHOR: bcfan
FEEDBACK: bcfan@shaw.ca
RATING :strong NC-17 for disturbing content. Please heed the warning.
SPOILERS: post-episode, Fallen Angel
CATEGORY: X (casefile), M/S UST
SUMMARY: Child sexual abuse cases leave Mulder and Scully struggling for resolution.
NOTES at the end.



Hiding in plain sight. Ramirez liked the sound of that. He purposely chose nondescript 
suburban homes for his base of operations, near a school if possible. That way, his 
own group of kids fit right in.

He was whistling as he unlocked the front door of the burgundy house, its white trim 
and Victorian lines appealing to his sense of irony. Solid security bars from a previous
owner covered the basement windows.

He'd paid cash on the barrelhead the minute he'd laid eyes on it, and he didn't want to 
leave anytime soon. Not unless he had to. Ramirez ignored the shabbiness of the first 
floor, walked up the broad staircase, selected another key from the ring, and unlocked 
a double set of solid doors. They were the entryway to his own private world. Soundproof 
and secure. Ramirez hung his leather jacket on the antique coat rack, same with holster
and gun. He toed off his shoes and stepped into a pair of corduroy slippers. Give me a smoke 
and a scotch and I'd be just like my old man, he reflected. Actually, a scotch wasn't a bad 
idea.

"Hey Betty," he called. "What's for lunch?"

His favourite broad appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in a low cut silk two-piece,
hair and makeup in place. She looked like a million bucks - just the way he liked it.
Ramirez grabbed her hourglass waist, wrapped his arms around her and began to claim her
mouth, to rub against her skirt.

"Maybe I'll have dessert first," he growled in Betty's ear.

"Sure. But I - I got steaks on the broiler, we're having steak and eggs."
He reluctantly loosened his hold, and Betty stepped quickly and deliberately away. He grabbed
 her upper arm and gave it a shake. "Later, then."

"Of course, Paulo," Betty blinked at him, wide-eyed.

Ramirez sat and Betty served him, the perfect hostess. She poured him a drink, and looked
hungrily at the bottle as she did so.

"No drinks. You gotta be sober to take care of business tonight."

He ignored her pleading look and gestured for her to join him. He concentrated on his food 
for a few minutes, then looked up and smiled. He dug into his pocket and flashed a roll of bills.
"I won big at the track this morning, Betty."

"That's great, Paulo."

"Yeah, I'm thinking it's time for a new car. Lexus or Caddy, I'm just not sure. A Caddy's 
more traditional, but the Lexus is one fast mother. Waddya think?"

"I don't know. I'm sure you'll make the right choice. You always do, Paulo."
Ramirez nodded. She was right.

"Anything new here?"

Betty jumped up and grabbed her bright pink Hello Kitty notepad. "I wrote it down, Paulo,
so I won't forget. Just like you told me to." She bent her head over the page, struggling 
to decipher the messages.

"Um, so far five clients are coming tonight, for three girls and two boys. I fed the kids 
already, and later I'll get those five from the basement and clean them up. I got their 
clothes ready."

"Anything else?" Ramirez drummed his fingers on the table impatiently.

Betty was one spaced-out broad. Given her past history, he was also unsurprised to 
realize she could barely read and write.

"No - oh! Oh yeah, the Boss called. He wants to meet with you tonight."

"Fuck!" Ramirez slammed his fist on the table. "What did he want?"

"He didn't tell me." Betty's grimace of distaste was quickly hidden.

Ramirez shrugged, but a lick of uneasiness crawled up his spine. It was an iron-clad
rule that the littlest products were kept for the Boss alone, but five hundred dollars 
had been impossible to resist. If the Boss realized that another client had used Richie
- no. He'd made sure that Richie would be too scared to talk.

Betty's voice was edged with fear. "That guy gives me the creeps, Paulo."

"Yeah. Me too."

***

Competing odors of floor polish and Lysol almost overpowered Scully as she opened the 
paint-chipped community centre door. "Watch your step," she murmured as Mulder 
negotiated the warped linoleum with head bowed, stepping carefully with his cane.
Scully walked ahead to a glassed-in reception area and rapped on the window.

"Hello," she called, and an older woman poked her head out a side door.

"Welcome to Albright Community Centre," she said. "How can I help you?"
Scully held up her badge. "My name is Agent Scully and this is my partner, 
Agent Mulder. We're with the FBI and we would like to speak to the centre director."

"That would be me. I'm Miranda Kerry. Please come in." She ushered them into her inner office.

Kerry waved them into the two straight-backed chairs before her desk, then placed 
half-glasses on her nose as she seated herself. Scully was reminded of her old principal, 
the one who would stare at students suspected of misbehaving until - seemingly of their 
own free will - confessions poured out of them. An excellent interview technique; one 
Scully tried to cultivate.

"Now, what can I do for you?"

"Thank you, Ms. Kerry, for taking the time to speak to us. Agent Mulder and I are
here as part of the investigation into Jimmy Findlay's disappearance."

"Yes, of course," Kerry answered. "The police were here a few times about Jimmy. 
Has there been any news?"

"I'm afraid not," Mulder said. "But the investigation is still ongoing."

"Of course," Kerry nodded. "This has been so hard on the staff. The day care workers
 were hit especially hard."

"Understandably," Mulder said.

"About your staff," Scully began, seeing the perfect opening. "We'd like to examine 
your staff records, the records of the children currently in your care. We'd also like 
permission to speak to them as a group and individually."

"Again?" Kerry asked. "The police have already been here, gone through all the files. 
Everyone was cleared."

"Things sometimes get missed in the course of an investigation," Mulder said. "For Jimmy's
 sake, we want to be sure that hasn't been the case."

"Of course." Kerry nodded. She stood and unlocked a battered filing cabinet. She pulled out
 a stack of blue folders and a stack of red folders, piled them side by side on the edge of her 
desk. "All the current staff and volunteer files are in here-" pointing to the blue pile "-and the 
children currently in the program are in here-" pointing to the red. "I can't let you take any of 
these off the premises, though. I'm sure you understand there are privacy issues. The National 
City police department does have photocopies of this material."

Mulder plucked a blue folder from the top of the pile. "Do you know off hand if Tomas Parraz or 
Richie Andros currently attend the child care program?"

Kerry frowned. "Those names don't sound familiar," she said as she leafed quickly through the 
stack of red folders. "If they are older than seven, though, they'd be in the after-school 
program." She reached for a binder stacked on the lowboy behind her desk. "No," she shook 
her head. "I don't see either name here."

Scully asked, "Ms. Kerry, how many people do you have working in the child care program?"

"Four." She pulled four files from the blue pile, handed them to Scully. "Three paid staff and one 
volunteer."

"Thank you." Scully accepted the folders and began flipping through them.

"They've all had the standard police checks," Kerry assured her. "We're very particular about that."

"Are they the only staff who would have contact with the children in the day care program?" Mulder 
asked.

"I suppose all of the centre staff could have at one time or another," Kerry conceded. "But the police 
spoke with each member of the staff the day after Jimmy went missing, too."

"I see the police check paperwork in these three files," Scully held out one folder to Mulder, "but not 
in this one."

"What?" Ms. Kerry stood, obviously surprised.

"Maria Nunez Ramirez," Mulder read the name off the flap.

"Oh," Kerry sagged with apparent relief. "Mrs. Ramirez has been a volunteer since before I started
working here."

"Is she the woman the children call Mrs. Nanny?" Mulder asked.

"Yes," Kerry nodded. She went to the cabinet and began searching through the other drawers 
before turning to Mulder and Scully. "Her police check probably got misfiled."

Mulder glanced at Scully. He raised a brow. She raised her own in reply.

"I need to apologize," Kerry said as she slid the last file shut. "I wasn't here during the initial
 police investigation-"

"Oh?" Scully asked.

"You were hospitalized at that time, I believe?" Mulder looked pointedly at Kerry.

"Yes," Kerry nodded, "An emergency appendectomy. The police questioned me at home three 
days after my surgery."

"Did you know about Jimmy's disappearance before you went in?"

Kerry shook her head. "No, I didn't. It was quite a shock. I don't know all the day care children 
well, but when something like this happens it's hard not to imagine the worst." Scully nodded. It
was difficult. Thinking the worst was becoming second nature.

Kerry straightened her shoulders. "Well, it appears Mrs. Ramirez's information is not in place. 
I'll contact her and get this straightened out immediately."

Mulder stood. "Do you know if she's volunteering here today?"

"Probably. She helps out with the afternoon program most days."

"We'll speak to her ourselves, then," Mulder answered. "Would it be possible to visit the child 
care centre now?"

"Yes. I'll call downstairs, it's in the basement. Unfortunately," Kerry looked at her watch, "they'll 
only be in session for a few more minutes before lunch. It was a half-day at school today, so the
workers will be going to the park for the afternoon with the younger play group and the after-
school care children."

xXx

Mulder put his badge back in his pocket, and Scully almost smirked at the wide-eyed, adoring
looks two very young, very blonde childcare workers were giving him. She was sure they would 
see a visit from a suave FBI agent as the highlight of their week, and fodder for endless phone 
chats between friends.

"And so, ladies, Agent Scully and I will be at the park during the outdoor play period as part of 
an ongoing investigation."

"Agent Mulder, is this about Jimmy Findlay?"

"As you know, Tracy, we've spoken to Ms. Kerry, and we want to keep you informed of our 
presence," Mulder's voice was patient while his long fingers fiddled with his cane handle, "but 
the investigation is confidential."

Scully glanced around the basement room. Unlike the rest of the building, bright colours and
a wealth of toys served to create a welcoming and cheerful atmosphere.

She smiled at a rainbow of artwork that lined one wall - until she noticed black blobs scattered
among the colours. Scully walked closer for a better look. Intermixed with sunshine and tulips
 were a series of crayon scribbles and paintings so similar to Sarah's that it took her breath away. 
Here was childish record of a sinister presence.

She called, "Mulder."

He glanced around, and his eyebrows rose at Scully's discovery.

Mulder stood next to Scully, pointed. "These pictures are interesting," he said, directing his 
comment to the childcare workers.

"Oh, that's Boogy," Tracy answered. "The kids draw him all the time."

"Have you ever asked them why?"

"Actually, Agent Mulder," Tracy smiled brightly, "We learned in our courses that it's important
for kids to deal with their fears. We're helping to empower them by encouraging their self-
expression. Right, Britt?"

"Right." Britt nodded.

A feather-light touch on her knee and Scully looked down. Sarah grinned up at her. She 
marvelled at Sarah's trust in adults despite what she'd seen. She thought of Jimmy. It would 
take a lot to break a child's trust, Scully knew. But when it happened, the difficulty to restore 
it would be enormous.

Scully leaned down, put her hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Hi, Sarah. I'll see you later in the park."

"Good." Sarah wandered over to a small green table and sat down, began a puzzle with a friend.

"Why don't we take a lunch break, Mulder?"

Mulder nodded. "Ladies, if you remember anything, please let us know." He handed Tracy his card.

xXx

"I know a place. Do you like seafood?"

"I grew up in New England, Scully. Of course I do."
Scully narrowly avoided a flame-licked Harley as she pulled into a glorified roadside 
shack. An open-air veranda was crowded with weathered bikers, college kids, and 
families, and a line snaked into the inside seating area.

"Do you mind sitting outside?"

"Not at all. I'm just surprised you picked a place with porta-potties for our California 
dining experience."

Scully smiled. "As long as we stay away from the fried fish we should be okay."

They made their way over to a live well bubbling with crabs and chose two. After paying 
at the cash register and collecting a plastic numbered placard, Mulder led the way to a 
scarred and sticky wooden table. He sighed in apparent relief as he propped his leg out 
in front of him on a spare bench.

Scully sat across from Mulder, lost in thought. It was so odd to be here. She kept bumping 
into parts of her past. The childhood part of her wanted to say, 'yes I ate here when I rode 
with my neighbour on his motorbike, hugging him close against the wind. He was sixteen and 
treated me like a kid, but I was in love.' The adult part knew she should keep those feelings 
locked away, should play it nonchalant.

Mulder seemed to echo her thoughts when he started tracing the carvings on their table with
his fingers. "Look, Scully - primary source material. You could read a scrawled history of several 
decades' worth of love affairs and unspoken crushes if you just knew how to interpret the symbols."

Scully was relieved to remember notebook doodles rather than roadside graffiti. Mulder had 
a sharp eye - and a 'DS heart GL' would have been mortifying.

"Did you ever do a little carving, Mulder?"

"No pocket knife, Scully." Mulder pulled a mournful face and Scully snickered. "I had to use a pencil 
to scratch out my flirty sonnets. Want to hear one?"

"Do I?"

"Roses are red,
A chicken you pluck,
I love you, my dear,
Do you want -"

A gangly teen in a butter-stained apron suddenly appeared, holding two paper plates with
steamed crabs and fries. He gave them a bored look, set the plates down, and stuck the
 placard in his pocket.

"You're reputation as a poet has been saved, Mulder, just in the nick of time."

"There's more where that came from, Scully. Anytime - just let me know."

She relaxed against the wooden bench and lifted her face to the sun, eyes closed, enjoying 
the warmth of the day and her lingering feelings of contentment. Mulder's light-hearted banter 
delighted her. The crab was delicious and seasoned by her happiness. But when Scully's cell 
phone suddenly rang, her happiness seemed to drain away. Back to work.

"Dana?" Mary's voice was shaky and sounded clogged up, as if she'd been crying. "Any news?"
Scully lifted a casual shoulder against Mulder's questioning look.

"Hi, Mary. No, I'm sorry, I don't know anything more."

"Oh, Dana." Mary was sobbing in earnest now. "I miss Jimmy so much."

Scully blinked back shared tears. "I'm sure you do, Mary, and I'm sorry I don't have better news."

Mary laughed, an edge of hysteria in her voice. "I've been thinking, Dana, how wrong I was 
to stay here. I should have moved far away after Jake died, and then Jimmy would have been 
safe. I just had trouble making decisions at first, and now this is what it's come to."

Scully felt helpless in the face of her friend's hysteria. Mary's emotional storm passed finally, 
and she muttered in a raspy voice, "Do you remember, Dana, when we were thirteen, how 
Cassie's little brother went missing?"

"No, I don't. I must have moved by then. What happened?"

"One night he disappeared from his bedroom. Just like Jimmy. And," Mary swallowed, "they never 
found him or any of the other kids again."

Scully's skin prickled with ice. Evil was a creature who preyed on young children, and she was
getting another glimpse of his face. "Other kids, Mary? Which other kids?"

Mulder leaned into her space as she wrote down the names Mary mentioned. Mary finally 
assured Scully she was fine and rang off.

"What's up, Scully?"

"You know how they say there's a pattern under the surface of every human interaction?" 
Scully held up her notebook. "Mary just mentioned several child disappearances from about
fifteen years ago. There may be no connection."

"Then again, this might be it. I'll call Captain Ortega and the field office and get them 
searching the records. If there is a link, we'll find it."

xXx

Sharing a park bench, waiting for Sarah's playgroup to arrive, Scully glanced at her 
partner. If it hadn't have been for the slight bounce of his legs, she would have thought 
Mulder was relaxing. But after her last few months on the X-Files, she wondered if he 
ever relaxed. She had to admit, though, his intensity was very attractive. Among other 
attractive things.

The playgroup came swarming in. And 'swarming' was exactly the right word - it was huge. 
She spotted Sarah as the little girl ran to the climbing frame.

"There's Sarah." Scully waved, and Sarah grinned and waved back.

Tracy and Britt stood on the other side of the equipment, whispering and chewing gum.
She was sure that Mulder was the topic of their conversation by the not-so-casual looks 
they shot his way.

"Sarah likes you, Scully." Mulder fished a sunflower seed out of his bag.

"Sarah likes you too, Mulder."

"Not the same thing. Oh look," Mulder pointed with his chin, "this must be Mrs. Ramirez now."

Scully watched as an elderly woman walked slowly to a bench on the other side of the play 
equipment. She sat and wrapped a black shawl around her shoulders, then took knitting
out of her battered black bag.

Scully muttered, "She looks like everybody's grandma," but then sat in silent amazement
 as a steady stream of even more children were dropped off or walked in on their own. 
Soon the playground was raucous and crowded, the sandpit was full, and Sarah was 
one face in a sea of little ones.

"I'm surprised that parents are allowing their kids to play at the park, especially after
what's happened."

Scully nodded. "These parents are the working poor, Mulder. They're scraping to get by, 
and without subsidized childcare some of them couldn't afford to keep their jobs. But this
- it's like the Pied Piper in reverse. Mrs. Ramirez must be very well established in this 
community for parents to feel this level of trust."

"I've never seen anything like it. Should we talk to some kids first, Scully, or Mrs. Pied Piper?"

Scully smiled to herself. Mulder was different. He actually seemed to seek out her opinion.

"Let's talk to the woman first. The children seem to trust her, and they might talk to us
 more easily if they see we've been accepted by her."

"Good plan."

Scully slowed her pace to accommodate Mulder's cane. Odd, Scully thought as they 
approached, the woman hasn't looked at us once.

She finally lifted her head when Scully and Mulder stood directly in front of her. The 
woman's sharp brown eyes contrasted with the kindly grandma impression Scully just 
formed. The woman blinked - and then the picture seemed to readjust itself. A gentle 
senior with arthritic hands and a vague expression sat on the bench, a half-knitted 
baby booty on her lap.

"Hello, ma'am," Mulder began, "We're visiting the play group. Do you come here often?"

The woman nodded. "My son Paulo was small, he played at this park. I volunteer to 
come here and watch the little ones."

She opened her bag, and Scully saw bandaids and tissues and lollipops mixed in with 
her personal items. "The kiddies, they fall over, or they hungry, they come sit next to 
Mrs. Nanny. I take care of them."

"Your son, Paulo. Was he part of the play group fifteen years ago, ma'am? Were you
a volunteer back then?"

Scully took a half-step back, shocked at the venomous look the woman gave Mulder.

"Why you bother me? I come, I sit, I help when the kiddies need me. Who are you, cops?"

"No ma'am, were not cops. Sorry to bother you."

Mulder turned abruptly, and Scully followed him back to their bench. She felt dagger
 eyes on her back the entire way, and breathed a sigh of relief when she finally sat.

"We're not cops, Mulder?"

"Not technically, no. Besides, why not lie to a liar? I've got a bad feeling about her, Scully."

"Me too."

"Why, Scully, you're intuitive sense is developing."

Scully loved his teasing mode. And teasing right back. "No, Mulder, I'm just observant. 
If looks could kill, we'd be dead right now."

"Grannie's a suspect."

"She's something, that's for sure."

Scully caught Sarah's eye and motioned her over. "Sarah, can you please ask your 
friends if anyone would like to tell us what they know about the boogyman? We want 
to help Jimmy."

"Okay." Sarah bounced back into the crowd.

Scully watched with growing dismay as Sarah spoke to one child after another, receiving 
scared looks and shaking heads for an answer. No one seemed willing to talk.

She was ready to get up and walk over herself when Sarah came through the playground 
holding an older girl's hand. "Hi. This is Rosa."

Rosa smiled shyly. She was a young Hispanic girl with long dark braids and a missing front 
tooth.

Scully held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Rosa. My name is Agent Scully and this
 is my partner, Agent Mulder."

"Hi." Rosa said.

"Agent Mulder and I are trying to find Jimmy, Rosa. If you have any idea what happened 
to him, or where he might be, it would be a big help if you told us."

Rosa licked her lips and glanced at Sarah. Sarah whispered, "Tell them, Rosa. You're 
big. You know."

Rosa straightened slightly at the compliment. "I - I think the boogyman took Jimmy. I 
seen him at the park. He's black and thick like no light can be in him and he smells bad."

"Smells bad?" Mulder prompted.

"Like after a fire," the girl replied.

"Where did you see him in the park, Rosa?"

Rosa pointed at the woods behind their bench. "There. But kids at my school know where 
he lives."

Scully blinked. A boogyman with a street address? This was a new twist on what she 
believed was a shared fabrication. Scully glanced at Mulder and saw the spotlight of his 
attention focused on their small witness, was sure that only their agreement to let her 
question the children was stopping him from grilling Rosa.

"Do you know the names of the kids who know where he lives, Rosa?"

"No, they're big kids."

Sarah piped up. "Bigger than you, Rosa?"

"Yeah, they're in sixth grade."

Mulder leaned in, touched Scully's shoulder. "It's Friday afternoon, Scully. We can't wait 
until Monday to interview the kids. Too long."

Scully remembered how rumours flew around the school when she was a child. Fact was 
soon embellished into fiction - there was even a child's game that proved it was so. But 
giving up was out of the question - three young lives were at stake.

"Did you hear them say anything about the boogyman's house?"

Rosa wrinkled her nose and began to chew on a fingernail. "Um. I know. They said the 
boogyman lives in the big purple house near a school."

Scully couldn't keep the edge of excitement from her voice. "Your school, Rosa?"

Rosa shrugged her small shoulders. "No, a school with a bell tower."

"A high school?"

"I don't know."

Mulder unhooked his cane from the back of the bench and stood.

"Let's go see what we can find, Scully."

They headed for the car. Scully felt a shiver of something behind her. But when she turned 
around, there was nothing.

xXx


Mulder unfolded the new map on his knee. Luckily, National City was small enough that its seventeen 
schools were listed along with other municipal buildings. Mulder took out his pen, crossed out Rosa's 
school. "Sixteen to go, Scully. Let's find that bell tower."

Scully glanced over, noticed Mulder lifting his leg slightly, rubbing his ankle. Fine pain lines were 
etched around his eyes and his mouth was pinched at the edges.

"Ankle bothering you, Mulder?"

Mulder pulled his hand up and shrugged. "Only when I walk."

"Do you want to go back to the crutches?"

"Can't chase the bad guys on crutches, Scully."

Scully stopped at the light. "You shouldn't be chasing the bad guys at all. If we do find something
suspicious, we're going to need backup."

Mulder nodded. "I know."

The neighbourhoods changed steadily as they drove. After ninety minutes, they turned into an 
upscale avenue with middle class mid- century homes. There were well-kept rock gardens and 
groupings of palm trees. American flags fluttered from porches and windows. At the end of a 
cul de sac, they spotted a school. A small, mission-style bell tower topped the school's roof.

"Got it." Mulder leaned forward eagerly. "See any purple houses, Scully?"

Scully slowly drove down the main avenue, then side streets, when they both spotted the only 
possible match in the neighbourhood.

"Is that house red or purple, Scully?"

"Yes."

Mulder shot her a look.

"Burgundy. I can see how a child might call it purple, though."

Scully pulled over to write down the address. As she bent to the task, Mulder touched her arm, 
whispered, "Look, Scully."

A florid man in suit and tie stepped foot over the threshold. An older man parked and headed 
to the door while they watched. After ten minutes, yet another man stopped his car and 
went inside.

"The boogyman must be a sociable guy," Mulder said.

"Must be."

Mulder spoke quietly. "This is starting to look like something else."

"Such as?"

"I'm not sure. A drug house?"

Scully took out her portable binoculars and scanned the windows. Thick curtains prevented 
even the smallest glimpse of the interior. She scanned the neighbouring houses and street 
then stopped, blinking.

"Look down at the end of the block." Scully handed the binoculars to Mulder. "Who do you 
think that is?"

"Very interesting. I'm calling Ortega."

"Good idea."

"It's Agent Mulder, sir," Mulder spoke into his cell phone. "Has police surveillance been ordered 
for any house on Larkspur Road?"

Scully listened in as Ortega explained, "1917 Larkspur? There's a joint INS/police raid planned
for tonight. Ten p.m. They got a tip that the site houses illegal aliens working in an underground
brothel. Why?"

"Do you mind if Agent Scully and I tag along?"

"Is this related to the missing kids?"

"It could be," Mulder replied.

Scully couldn't hear Ortega's answer, but saw Mulder nod and close the cell phone.

"We're in, Scully. The INS and Ortega haven't connected this site with the kids' disappearances
 - they think it's a brothel - but I'd like to follow through on our lead from Rosa."

Scully nodded. "Me too." She started the engine.

"Where are we going?"

"We're heading back to the motel. If anything happens before we can go in, we'll know 
about it."

Scully expected argument. The fact that none was forthcoming made her realize just how 
rotten Mulder must be feeling. At the motel, Scully urged Mulder to lie down while she removed 
his tensor brace and carefully examined his ankle. No real change for the worse, she decided, 
but had to be in considerable pain from all the walking.

Mulder smiled gratefully as she wrapped his ankle in a heating pad and set it on low. "Thanks, 
Scully."

"Try to get some rest, Mulder. I'll be back in two hours."

Scully turned off the lights and carefully closed the connecting door. I could kill for a coffee, 
she thought. Scully sat for long moments, trying to decide what to do. She felt numb with 
fatigue but was afraid to sleep, knowing how hard it would be to wake up again. Her appetite 
was non-existent. She finally opted for tea and toast from the coffee shop next door, then a 
long soak in the tub until it was time to wake her partner.

Mulder was still an enigma to her, she realized. He seemed to deliberately raise his own 
personal barriers while at the same time persistently broaching hers. He was challenging, 
whip-smart, impatient. Compassionate, funny, and the only person at the FBI to date who 
treated her with true equality.

Appealing qualities - and there was no denying how attractive Mulder was in the looks 
department. Lanky, with sensuous lips and expressive eyes. She remembered her friend's
high school acronym for unrequited attraction - SWAG, "Sigh, what a guy."

The bath water grew cool, and Scully reminded herself for the thousandth time to guard 
her heart. As far as she could tell, Mulder never thought of her at all outside the office, while 
she spent more and more time thinking of him.

Dressed and ready to leave for the evening, Scully entered Mulder's room as quietly as she 
could. Mulder was stretched out on the bed, one arm flung across his eyes. Even breathing 
told Scully he was asleep.

She stepped to the edge of the bed. "Mulder, it's time to wake up." She touched his shoulder 
and he pulled down his arm, blinked sleepily.

"I'm going to massage your ankle with arnica ointment and then help you put on your tensor 
brace. We need to get ready."

"Mmm. Okay."

Scully began carefully, with even strokes where the ligaments had been injured. She began to 
firmly massage under his ankle, pausing when she heard a catch in Mulder's breath.

"Sorry, Mulder."

"S'okay, Scully. I don't think I could do it myself."

Mulder sat up and stretched. A smattering of chest hair peeked through his unbuttoned shirt 
collar.

"I'll take care of the ankle brace, Scully. Let's get this show on the road."


Continued in chapter 3