Fractured Geometry

Things had been very dull for the X-Files division. The partners had done nothing but catch-up on paperwork for two solid weeks; the pile of completed reports gave Scully a feeling of accomplishment. Mulder was just glad they were done.

Two weeks of paper work had been pure Mulder torture. Of course, he had taken time out to peruse The Globe, The National Enquirer, and the Internet, among other resources, for potential cases. He had even submitted several 302's to Skinner. But eventually it became clear--even to him--they were staying right here--in this office--until Skinner had every single overdue report in his hands.

Scully had worked carefully and methodically; he had worked carefully and erratically, his efforts interrupted by a frequent need for coffee, snacks, lunch, a sharper pencil, anything that would momentarily free him from the mind-numbing drudgery of final reports. On the side, he had honed his free-throw skills using bits of the reports that he had written and Scully had rejected, enhanced his ability to flip freshly sharpened pencils into the ceiling, and had even constructed an impressive silver chain using every available unused paper clip in the X-files division. Now, finally, they were done.

Scully had taken the substantial pile of reports up to Kim while he cleaned up the remaining mess of papers and files that littered the office. It had taken less than five minutes to stack all the files and loose papers and file them under R for random. Scully would be pleased to see both their workspaces cleared. Mulder kicked back in his chair, propped his feet on the now pristine surface of his desk, and eyed the decorated ceiling proudly, his mind happily considering a series of potential cases that he would soon be free to investigate. Freedom was just around the corner. Mulder doubted there would be a problem with getting the stack of reports approved. Scully had long since mastered the fine art of making his theories and thoughts sound scientific, and that gift alone was reason enough to love her. As soon as she returned, they could be about the important business of preparing for their next case. He was a lucky man.

Hearing the door open he turned, goofy grin in place, expecting to see his partner back from her errand. His eyes settled instead on a broad chest, fastidiously starched and ironed white shirt, expensive silk tie, and impeccably fitted suit coat. His eyes shifted up to meet bespectacled brown eyes as he scrambled to his feet, straightened his own somewhat less than conservative tie and shifted his features into a more professional arrangement. "Good afternoon, sir, what brings you down here?" he queried as the last vestiges of good humor drained from his eyes with the realization that a visit from his superior rarely heralded anything but the worst of news. For a brief moment his mind skittered across the horrible fear that something had happened to Scully. Fortunately he quickly rejected that thought. He had after all heard her board the elevator only minutes earlier; an abduction between the basement and fifth floor of the Hoover building seemed unlikely--even within his admittedly paranoid world view. Preparing for the worst, he raised his defenses, schooled his face into the impassive expression he used to hide from the world, and waited for the AD to impart his news.

True to form Assistant Director Skinner maintained his stern visage, pointedly ignoring the rolled up sleeves, goofy grin, and, most of all, the pencil-decorated ceiling. He watched with a mixture of satisfaction and sadness the impact of his arrival. It wouldn't do for his wayward agent to realize he had a sense of humor. Furthermore, the cause precipitating his unexpected visit left little room for levity. Both of his agents were anxious to return to the field, but neither would welcome the case he was about to assign. "Good afternoon, Agent," he ventured as an icebreaker. "I have a case that I would like you and Agent Scully to investigate." His eyes scanned the room, seemingly only just realizing that the two men were alone. "Where is Agent Scully?"

"I don't know how you missed her," replied Mulder. "She just took the overdue case reports up to your office for approval." A frisson of fear passed through Mulder's body before he quickly tamped down on the emotion, certain that there would be a logical explanation for why Skinner had missed seeing her.

The AD raised his eyebrow at this bit of news. "So you finally caught up on all that back paperwork. I am glad to hear that as you may be away for an extended period on this new assignment. I just came from the Director's office, which is probably how I missed running into Agent Scully." Skinner's eyes shifted around the room seemingly unwilling to meet the curious eyes of his agent. "He specifically requested that the two of you be assigned to the task force investigating this case. Please look it over." Mulder gingerly accepted the proffered file, wondering what the hell had his normally stoic boss acting so ill at ease. Skinner continued his uninterrupted monolog, "Despite weeks of work, the task force has made little headway. I'd like both you and Agent Scully to meet with me in an hour and discuss any questions you might have. The Director would like you on a plane for Minneapolis tonight, so you don't have a lot of time. Unfortunately there is no airport in Frostbite Falls, so you'll have to drive the rest of the way." Without waiting for a response and glad to have completed his somewhat onerous task, Skinner pivoted and left the X-Files office, leaving a slightly bewildered agent staring at the space he had just vacated.

Mulder slouched back into his chair, eyeing the delivered casefile distastefully; loath to open it and learn what new evil had been unleashed on an unsuspecting populace. It must be a doozy, if Skinner's odd behavior was any indication. He heard the elevator ding, hopefully signaling the welcome arrival of his partner as well as the equally welcome departure of his boss. He sighed, listening to the familiar click of her heels as she returned to him. Whatever horrors the mundane manila folder contained--at least he would not have to face them alone. He turned and smiled as Scully entered the office. The smile was a shadow of the one that had greeted Skinner only moments earlier, but he hoped Scully appreciated the effort.

Within moments Scully had taken in Mulder's slumped form and pathetic smile, compared it to the jubilant partner she had left in this office only minutes earlier, added in not only the oddness of encountering Skinner at the elevator entrance, but also his distracted behavior, and deduced that those observations equaled trouble. Conclusion drawn, she pinned Mulder with her gaze, "Ooookay Mulder, what the hell happened in the ten minutes I was gone?"

"Sculleee," he responded with raised eyebrows, "It wasn't my fault. I had just finished cleaning up the office when Skinner walked in and left this." He pointed disdainfully at the innocent-looking file folder on his otherwise empty desk. "You know everything isn't always about me."

Scully arched an answering eyebrow and in a still suspicious tone replied, "That may be true, Mulder, but you do have a way of finding and causing trouble without even trying. So, if you didn't do anything and I didn't do anything, the problem must be in that file. Have you looked at it yet?"

"No, but I was just about to do so. How about I look over the police reports and the interviews while you check out the autopsies?" In a clear delaying action he gingerly pushed the file in her general direction. "Here, you pull out the autopsies. I need to visit the little agent's room and run upstairs to the snack machines before settling in to read."

"Sounds like a plan," sighed Scully, indirectly acknowledging her awareness of his ruse to avoid opening the file, even as he rapidly escaped out the door. As she sifted through the thick folder for ME reports and autopsies, she mused over her partner's strange behavior. It was very unlike him not to hog the file on a new case.

Having exhausted all the reasonable delaying tactics at his disposal, Mulder reluctantly turned his steps back towards the basement office. No sense in adding Scully irritation to an already bad situation. Damn. He had been so close to freedom--just him, Scully, and the open road--and then Skinner had assigned them to this bad-ass task force--no doubt with the SAC from hell. Turning into the office, he was surprised to see a very puzzled Scully hunched over the file, one eyebrow cocked in a way that clearly conveyed her complete confusion over its contents. She was so absorbed that she failed to notice his entrance. Slightly unnerved by her single-minded focus, he prodded her, "Scully, is there a problem?"

She momentarily jerked up from her perusal of the case. "Geez, Mulder, give a girl a heart attack, why don't you? And yes, there's a problem. This case is weird, really weird," she muttered, as her eyes drifted back to the file.

At the word 'weird,' Mulder brightened considerably. He moved closer, even as he asked, "Care to be a little more specific? Weird encompasses so much of what we do." He reached out seeking to gain possession of the file so that he could formulate his own opinion relative to its weirdness, but Scully pulled it away, still engrossed in her perusal of the contents. "C'mon Scully, give me a little more information. Is this an X-File?"

At the word 'X-File' Scully seemed to return to the present. "Nope, Mulder. Sorry, but I don't catch even a whiff of that paranormal bouquet of which you're so fond. This looks like the work of an ordinary kidnapper, but it's damn odd."

Mulder visibly slumped at her words, dropping into his own chair and tilting backwards. "Well, how about handing me the police reports and interviews so I can get a handle on the weirdness level for myself?"

"I would, Mulder, but there aren't any autopsy reports, so we'll just have to share the police reports and interviews." She began to summarize what she had learned, hoping to prepare him a bit before he looked at the pictures of the victims for himself. "There have been 15 kidnappings in the past month, all children between the ages of seven and nine, a variety of socioeconomic levels, and no pattern in sex or ethnicity. The only commonality among the victims is that all are extremely bright. It appears to be the work of a serial kidnapper as all the cases share a similar MO. None of the victims or their bodies has been recovered. The city is in a state of panic, and the local press is crucifying the law enforcement agencies--city, county, and state, as well as the Bureau. Here, take a look at the case summary and these reports and interviews. It's been a month since the kidnappings started, and there has essentially been no progress in capturing the kidnapper. The UNSUB has made no effort to communicate with the families of the victims, the police, or the press, so we have no insight into motive. The only thing we know is that another child can be expected to disappear every other day." On that solemn note, Scully handed the file over, watching her partner slump even lower in his seat as he absorbed her words. She knew he hated cases that involved children, especially kidnapping cases--or abductions, as he was prone to think of them. She knew as she examined his pensive form that he was reliving his own sister's abduction. Unexplained serial abductions, her mind laughed. Now she knew why Skinner was worried. And, of course, who did the FBI want? Wonder Boy. Spooky Profiler Mulder. Her mind unwillingly dredged up the Lucy Householder case, skittered briefly over his behavior during the Patterson case. Mulder, abducted children, and profiling were a very bad mix. Why the hell couldn't Skinner have found someone else for this case? She sighed. Much as she might hate it, she knew there was no cogent argument for that scenario. Mulder was the best, and those kids deserved the best. She knew Mulder wouldn't have it any other way.

At her sigh, Mulder looked up from the casefile. "Oh Scully, I almost forgot. Skinner wants to brief us in an hour--well, now it's about 40 minutes. Then he wants us to fly out tonight."

*****

Scully glanced over at her sleeping partner, glad that he was getting some rest since she was sure the days ahead would allow little time for sleep. The briefing with Skinner had been uneventful. It was clear to her discerning eye that he regretted assigning the case to them, but it was also clear there would be no reprieve. The Bureau wanted this case solved, and they were counting on Spooky Mulder to deliver, regardless of the cost to his well-being. The orders had come directly from the Director. It had been a hectic day, and she could feel her own eyes beginning to close with fatigue. It was hard to believe that it had only been this morning when they had completed all their back paper work. Then Skinner had arrived and their leisurely day had become a day filled with briefings, packing, and ultimately a mad dash to the airport to catch the last flight of the day. As she mentally reviewed the contents of the file, her head drifted to her partner's shoulder and she joined him in sleep. The next thing she knew, they were on the ground, the pilot was making chatty announcements, and a grinning Mulder was looking down at her.

"Hey, Scully, you drooled on me. You must have really been tired to sleep through the landing." He then stood, assisted her to her feet, and pulled their carry-ons from the overhead bin. "Let's go, Scully, daylight will be here in no time." And indeed, by the time the partners had rented a car, driven to Frostbite Falls, and checked into their motel, dawn was beginning to lighten the sky. By mutual agreement they entered their respective rooms and tumbled into bed. If they were quick, they could get two hours of sleep and still make it to the 9 AM briefing at the local bureau office.

*****

Mulder and Scully arrived at the Bureau office at exactly 8:45 looking sharp and professional. Except for slightly bloodshot eyes, no one would ever guess the agents had spent the night on the redeye out of D.C. They approached the receptionist and Scully introduced them, asking, "could you direct us to the briefing room?"

The receptionist gave them the room number and directed them in the general direction. She was mildly surprised by their professional and normal appearance. The guy was pure eye candy--not at all what she expected, given the rumors that had been flying about ever since the SAC received notification of the addition to the task force. Who would have guessed that Spooky Mulder would look so good? Oh well, she had been working for the Bureau long enough to know that many a fruit loop was hidden under a great exterior.

The briefing room was a beehive of controlled activity as agents conferred, gobbled donuts, and made last minute changes in their morning reports. Despite the high level of activity, the overall atmosphere was subdued as the agents from the various teams compared notes and realized that they were not one step closer to solving the string of kidnappings than they had been on day one, with fifteen victims and--unless their luck changed--another one projected for today. Mulder and Scully entered the room together, eyes sweeping over the 11 other agents in the room, as their own entrance temporarily went unnoticed. Then the noise--as though controlled by a rheostat--slowly died away as the other agents paused in their conversations to inspect the new arrivals and then gradually returned to its previous level as agents completed cursory examinations and self-consciously returned to abandoned conversations. The conversations now had a new focus as agents randomly discussed the bits and pieces of gossip they had heard about these newcomers from D.C. Did they really chase aliens? Was he as crazy and brilliant as they had heard? Did they really think they were going to come in here and crack this case? Was she as crazy as he was? Scuttlebutt on her was mixed; they had heard she was a gifted pathologist and investigator, that she just put up with him because he looked good and was a great lay, and alternatively, that she was cold as ice and just as crazy as he. They would watch and draw their own conclusions. As the conversations continued, one figure drew away from the others and approached Mulder and Scully.

He walked up to the agents, "Hi, I am Mark Rossini. I'm the SAC for this task force, brought in on special assignment from the Minneapolis office. I gather you are Agents Mulder and Scully." He extended his hand as he completed his greeting.

Mulder grasped the proffered hand, and the two men exchanged a professional handshake. The man then diverted his attention to Scully, offering his hand to her and exchanging a softer and more attenuated version of the handshake he had shared with Mulder. Mulder carefully scrutinized his new SAC throughout the introductions. He was smaller than Mulder, only about four inches taller than Scully, but well-built. Mulder wondered if he might have wrestled in college. More importantly he wondered if he would end up as friend or foe. In the long run, it didn't matter; he would do his job regardless--it was just a lot more pleasant if he didn't have to buck the man in charge.

Having completed opening civilities the SAC addressed the two agents more directly. "I've heard a lot about both of you, some good, some bad. I don't want you coming in here and interfering with our ongoing investigation, but I am hopeful you will be able to provide us with some new directions. I have orders from A.D. Skinner to give you as much freedom as possible in following your own avenues of investigation. But Agents, there is a limit to my patience. I will not have you disobeying orders or turning this task force into a cartoon." Then he turned, focusing his attention on Agent Mulder. "Please keep in mind that this is not one of your so-called X-Files. And Agent Mulder, while a different, and rather unusual vehicle was used in each kidnapping, none of the kidnappings involved a flying saucer. I look forward to seeing a completed profile as soon as you have the necessary data to formulate one." He then pivoted and moved to the front of the room to initiate the morning briefing, his mind preoccupied with the two new agents and how they would affect the dynamics of his task force. At least he didn't require Agent Scully's autopsy skills yet, although he had little doubt that her skills would, unfortunately, be needed in the very near future.

Mulder and Scully took their seats and exchanged raised eyebrows and strained smiles as Mulder mouthed, "Nice." The briefing lasted for over an hour as the leader of each of the three teams gave a report of their previous day's activities and findings and answered questions from other team members. Unfortunately the reports added very little to what was already known. At the conclusion of the briefing, the teams separated to pursue their assigned responsibilities.

Mulder and Scully were left to follow their 'own avenues of investigation,' which suited them just fine. They quickly decided to visit the crime scenes, then interview the six eyewitnesses, and finally interview the families of the victims. Mulder realized that other agents had already covered this ground, but personally visiting the sites and interviewing witnesses and family members was very helpful in formulating a profile. He abhorred talking with the family members, but it was that part of the process that gave resonance to his understanding of the victim. Without that, he found it nearly impossible to visualize the UNSUB, and it was his ability to see the UNSUB in three dimensions that made his profiles so eerily accurate.

By mid-afternoon, both agents were exhausted, the previous day's marathon reflected in their tired steps. Little new information had been garnered through their efforts. Basically, they knew that the kidnapper took a new victim every other day, that he used a variety of vehicles and none of the reported license plates were real, and that the victims voluntarily climbed into the vehicles. And then there was the odd fact that the vehicles themselves were rather fanciful, not standard Fords and Chevrolets, but brightly colored custom jobs. Their onsite investigations had added a little flesh here and there, but nothing really new. The most interesting bit, other than the diversity and oddness of the cars, was that every eyewitness emphasized that the children not only voluntarily climbed into the kidnapper's car, but also seemed most eager to do so. Even the most recent victims had happily climbed into the kidnap vehicle--despite having recently received dire warnings about the danger of speaking to strangers. The only conclusion to be drawn was that the kidnapper must have somehow momentarily inveigled the children. Mulder considered the possibility that he might have a puppy or some equally attractive inducement to draw the children in.

Having just completed interviews of three of the victim's families, the two agents were discussing how to best use the remainder of the day. Scully wanted Mulder to return to the motel and begin working on the profile, while she interviewed more of the families before joining him for dinner. Her proposed justification for this division of labor was SAC Rossini's desire to have a new profile to work from as soon as possible. In truth she could see that the interviews were torture to her partner; every victim was Samantha, every broken sibling, him. The last family had been especially difficult. The mother had broken down in tears when he asked her to relate how she and her son had spent the day of the kidnapping. The irate father had then accused Mulder of getting his kicks by forcing innocent family members to relive the horror of that tragic day when he should have been out catching the bastard. Mulder had simply clammed up at that point, leaving Scully to complete the interview and guide his nearly catatonic form back to the car. Her justification fell on deaf ears as Mulder insisted he could not complete the profile until he had at least met all of the families. They had compromised by agreeing to interview the family of one more victim before returning to the motel and beginning to collate the information they had.

It was at this point that they got their first break and certainly the highlight of the case. SAC Rossini called to say that the most recent kidnapping attempt had failed. The victim was a seven-year old girl named Rebecca Sooter. The kidnapper had pulled over to the curb and engaged her in conversation as she played outside her home. Then, unlike all the other victims, she had--according to witnesses--suddenly run away screaming. However, she steadfastly refused to relate the experience to any of the agents at the scene and had now been taken to the local hospital for observation. The staff psychologist there found no evidence of emotional trauma, but the girl was resolute in her refusal to divulge any details regarding the attempted kidnapping. Her doctor elected to keep her overnight and refused to allow any further interviews until the following day. The big question now was whether a second attempt would be made.

Deprived of their opportunity to interview Rebecca, the agents decided to continue with their original plan and visit the family of the next victim--Sharon Indersen--before returning to the motel. Sharon was nine years old, blonde, and blue-eyed. The interview of her family progressed much like the earlier interviews they had conducted. The family was typical; both parents worked, and there was an older brother and younger sister. They had spent the day doing normal things. The brother spent the day with a friend while the girls had gotten up early, watched cartoons on the cartoon network, and then gone grocery shopping with their mom. It had been a quick trip to the Value Rite grocery store to pick up a few of the staples they were running low on. They came home, had tuna sandwiches, baked beans and chips for lunch. Then Rob, the father, decided to take a nap after having worked in the yard all morning. Sharon and her sister went to play in the front yard. Their mom reminded them to be careful and not to talk to any strangers. She then went upstairs to vacuum. She paused to check on the girls through the upstairs window and saw a bright purple car sort of like an oversized Volkswagen bug pull up to the curb. Sharon had immediately walked over to it. She screamed out the window to get back, but got no response. Terrified she raced down the stairs and burst out the door--too late to save her daughter. She had written down the license plate, but the police had been unable to find a match in their database. It had been a beautiful, normal day culminating in a horrible, very abnormal, tragic event. The two agents listened sympathetically as the mother related her story, waiting patiently when tears caused her to pause in her recital of events. When she was finished, Mulder asked her what items she had purchased at the grocery store. She thought about it a minute before listing milk and bread. "Oh, and I got each of the girls a box of cereal. I wasn't too happy about that because we had plenty at home, and it costs so much more at the local grocery store than it does at the Wal-Mart Supercenter, but you know how kids are. They had been so good all morning that I didn't really mind. Sharon picked Trix. I know it's loaded with sugar, and I'm not even sure she likes the cereal, but she definitely likes the advertising. Whenever her sister wants them for breakfast, Sharon grabs them and says, 'Silly Rabbit, Trix are for kids.'"

On that bittersweet note the agents stood to leave, Mulder pausing to ask why the food was so much more expensive at Value Rite. Mrs. Indersen seemed bewildered by the strange question, but was willing to provide any information that these two new investigators thought might help save her daughter. "I don't really know, Mr. Mulder. I suppose it's buying power. The big chains get better wholesale pricing. I mean, I know that Value Rite is part of an association of independent grocers and that helps them with prices, but they still can't really offer the discounts that the big chains have."

Mulder seemed to consider the answer carefully. Finally, he said, "Thank you, Mrs. Indersen. You've been very helpful. We'll be in touch if we need any further information, or if we uncover any information concerning your daughter's whereabouts." With those parting words the two agents took their leave and returned to their dark blue Taurus rental.

Scully slid into the car and buckled up, waiting for Mulder to do the same before inquiring, "So, Mulder, care to enlighten me as to your sudden interest in grocery store prices?"

Delaying his response, Mulder pulled out into the street before finally glancing over at Scully, a small smile playing across his features. "Well, Scully, I think that bit of information may not only end up saving me money when I grocery shop, but could also be the connection that we've been missing. I mean, we have considered every possible connection between these kids and found absolutely nothing. They live in different neighborhoods, have different doctors, go to different schools, play on different sports teams, and even shop at different stores. It looked like the kidnapper was just randomly driving around until he spotted a victim and nabbed them, but the high intelligence of all the kids is contradictory to the idea of chance selection. And it just doesn't fit with the profile I am developing. But now I have a possible connection--if it pans out. Scully, even though all the stores had different names, perhaps they are connected through that buying association she mentioned. I'm going to ask Rossini to have someone look into that while I work on the profile. Maybe, just maybe, our guy works for this association. Maybe he supplies or delivers commodities to all the different stores--maybe even cereal--and has access to the kids somehow while they are shopping. I mean, every single family reported having taken their son or daughter shopping on the day they were kidnapped. But because they all frequented different stores, no one thought that would turn out to be significant. And Scully, none of the stores mentioned were major chains. I just feel like this might be the break we've been looking for."

"I hope you are right about this, Mulder, because so far we have nothing. The one thing we know for sure is that the longer these kids are missing, the less likely it is we'll find them alive. But I'm afraid I don't see how any suspects we turn up through this proposed connection would be able to identify the brightest children as victims."

Sighing, Mulder replied, "Yeah, I wondered about that too, Scully. I know I'm reaching here, but it's the only straw I've been able to grasp. I just hope it's the right straw."

The partners completed the remainder of the drive back to their motel in silence, both lost in their own thoughts about the case: the lack of progress, the concern for the kids, and the overriding fear that the bodies were going to start showing up. Mulder was anxious to start putting the profile together, but realized that so far he just didn't have enough insight into the UNSUB. He was reasonably sure it was a guy, but it was more of a gut feeling than anything else. It was certainly nothing he could justify in front of the task force. He ran it through his head: male, probably Caucasian, fairly short and slender, non-threatening demeanor, and very good with children. Mulder was certain of the last part. Whoever was kidnapping these kids had a real knack with kids, the Pied Piper of Frostbite Falls. Not much of a profile to go suspect hunting with, but it might be useful if his proposed connection held up, and if they could generate a list of suspects that would have reason to be at each of the stores. Those were still two big ifs, and even more problematical was the question of how the UNSUB--even if he had contact with the kids--was able to determine they were gifted. Furthermore, why would the kidnapper use intelligence as the winnowing criterion for selecting his victims? And on a slightly more frivolous note: where was he getting all those weird cars? The cars described by the eyewitnesses were not exactly cars you could drive around town unnoticed. Mulder pulled into the motel with that last thought still bouncing around in his brain.

Preoccupied with brightly-colored vehicles, Mulder followed his partner into her room and was startled when she tapped him on his shoulder. "Earth to Mulder," she intoned while peering into his face. "Anybody home in there?"

Mulder smiled. "Sorry, Scully. I was lost in thought. I'm having a tough time getting into this guy's head. The only profile I have thus far is so superficial that if I actually presented it, Rossini would probably laugh his ass off."

"Well Mulder, tomorrow is another day. You were able to identify a possible connection between the victims today, and tomorrow, we might have the opportunity to interview Rebecca Sooter. If she opens up, she may give us the dynamite we need to blow this case wide open. On top of that, the kidnapper didn't get his next victim. How about you go type up as much of the profile as you have, and I'll call Rossini and see if he can get some agents to look into the connection between the grocery stores? Then I'll order us some dinner. Any objections to Chinese?"

"That sounds like a plan, Scully, and Chinese sounds wonderful. I am starving. If you don't mind, I'm going to grab a quick shower before dinner."

Scully watched her partner disappear into his own room, eyebrow raised in amazement at his unexpected behavior. She wasn't complaining, but she did wonder where Spooky Mulder was hiding, and when she could expect him to show up.

******

After a good night's sleep, Mulder was awake before five and went for a quick run. He then showered and dressed before knocking on Scully's door. A slightly bleary-eyed Scully appeared and balefully eyed her hyper partner. "Mulder, it's only six, we don't have to be at the briefing until nine, and Mulder, you can't wear that tie. The colors hurt my eyes, and FBI agents do not wear ties with Porky Pig on them. And what are those other creatures? Never mind, I don't want to know. Just take it off. SAC Rossini looks like a by-the-regs kind of guy, and while you haven't really done anything to piss him off yet, I'm sure it's only a matter of time."

"Aw, c'mon, Scully, I got this tie on eBay. It's my new favorite, since I ruined my Marvin the Martian one. Besides, I'm not going to the briefing. That's what I came to tell you."

"Mulder, you have to go to the briefing."

"No, Scully, I don't have to go to the briefing, and I'm not going. You can go and tell me what I miss. Here are the keys to the rental. Oh, and here is my profile, such as it is. Please give it to SAC Rossini."

"And exactly what the hell am I going to tell him you're doing?"

Mulder smiled at his partner. He loved the way her eyebrow went up and her eyes got all wide when she was angry. And she looked so damn cute all sleepy and rumpled. He sure was lucky to have her for a partner.

"Mulder, wipe that stupid smile off your face. What the hell is wrong with you? You do have to go to that briefing. And if you don't go, what am I supposed to tell Rossini?"

Still smiling, Mulder turned to climb into the waiting cab. "Tell him I'm revising my profile and pursuing my 'own avenues of investigation.'" With those parting words, he was gone. He turned his attention to the cab driver. "Drop me off at the Frostbite Falls Memorial Hospital, please."

In retrospect, he had to admit Scully had a point. What the hell was wrong with him? Here he was, working a serial abduction case involving kids, and he wasn't even mildly depressed. He was clearly slightly manic, but overall he felt good. His "spooky" ability to get into the UNSUB's head seemed to have completely deserted him. Usually on a case like this, it felt like he was swimming in a cesspool. Maybe it was because there weren't any bodies. The casefile was filled with smiling faces, all before images and no after images. God, he dreaded the possibility of seeing the "after" pictures. He had to find the kidnapper before that happened. He just had to.

******

Finding Rebecca Sooter was easy. Getting in to see her was not. First, he had to convince her doctor that he was indeed an FBI agent; the doctor didn't seem to like the tie any better than Scully had.

"Look, um...Agent Mulder, I understand how important it is that you learn as much as you can about the kidnapper, and I know that Rebecca is apparently the only child with whom the kidnapping attempt was unsuccessful. I don't want to see another child taken anymore than you do, and I do realize the probability of finding any of those unfortunate kids drops with every passing minute. But Agent Mulder, Rebecca seems to remember nothing of the event. I see no reason to harass or upset her any further. Rebecca's parents are extremely protective of her; she hasn't been around other children much. Her parents have always treated her as an adult, so she is very mature. Her refusal to discuss what happened is most unusual, but whenever anyone even mentions the experience she clams up, claiming she remembers nothing. The Bureau even sent a child psychologist down to talk to her. He got nothing. What makes you think you'll have any more success?"

"I understand your concerns, Dr. Sanders, and I don't know if I'll have any more success than any of those other people. All I know is I'm trying to put together a profile on this guy, and I just don't have the information I need to do it. Just talking to her--even if she won't talk about the kidnapping--will give me information. I promise if she shows any signs of distress, I'll back off. If I can't get a better read on this guy, kids are going to start to die, and none of us wants that."

"Look, Agent Mulder, I'd really like to help, but I just can't take a chance on you pushing Rebecca too far and causing a serious problem. She is clearly repressing the event. It's going to take time and a professional psychologist to help her deal with the trauma."

"How about if I promise to not even ask her about the kidnapping? We'll just have a nice talk. You can come in with me, and if you don't like the way things are going, just say the word and I'll stop. C'mon, what harm could that cause?"

The doctor sighed and gave in. "Okay. This goes against my better judgment, but I will let you talk with her. Keep in mind, though, that when I say the word, the interview is over, and you leave--no questions asked."

With the rules established, the two men walked into Rebecca's room. Mulder was surprised to see her engrossed in reading "A Tale of Two Cities." He shut the door firmly in order to divert her attention to him. "Hi, my name is Fox Mulder, and I just dropped by to talk with you for a bit."

Rebecca turned to consider her newest visitor. Fixing him with cornflower blue eyes, she replied, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Mulder. My name is Rebecca Sooter, but I guess you already knew that."

Mulder had the feeling he was talking to a middle-aged woman in the body of a seven-year old, a feeling that left him slightly adrift concerning the direction his interview should take. "So, do you read a lot, Rebecca?"

"Oh, yes, and I love Dickens. Reading is one of my favorite things to do."

Mulder searched his memory for some other books she might have read, finally asking, "So, are you a big fan of the Harry Potter books and movies?"

"No, I never read silly things like that," was her unexpected answer. "Mother says it's a waste to read such fanciful things. Everyone knows there aren't any real sorcerers, witches, ghosts, dragons, or any of that sort of nonsense."

More than slightly taken aback and with his interest piqued, Mulder continued, "So you only read serious books, nothing about Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny?"

"Of course not, Mr. Mulder, those are all made up things. Mother has always been very truthful with me. She told me that other children believe in those things, and I should never try to dissuade them, as it wouldn't be appropriate. But I know they're not real. Mother says when they get older they'll know too."

"Well, that is an interesting point of view, Rebecca. Please call me Fox; no one calls me Mr. Mulder."

"Okay...Fox. That is a funny name, but I think it fits. That's a pretty silly tie you have on, by the way. My father would never wear anything like that. You know, looking at that tie makes me want to tell you something. I haven't told my mother or father because they would think I needed counseling. But I have wanted to tell someone and everyone keeps asking. You didn't ask, but I think you want to know. First, though, you need to tell me why you have on such a funny tie."

"Everyone's a tie critic today. What, you don't like Porky Pig?"

"Well, actually, I don't know who Porky Pig is, but I can tell he isn't real. And that is sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Mulder smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile and prompted her to continue. "I'd love to hear what's on your mind, Rebecca." He glanced over to make sure the doctor wasn't making any move to interrupt.

"Well, Fox," she smiled at the odd name, "yesterday I was outside reading under the big oak tree in our front yard, and Mr. Peabody came by. It was the first time I ever saw him outside the grocery store, so I went over to talk to him. Mother said, 'Don't talk to strangers,' but Mr. Peabody isn't a stranger. I said hello to him, and he asked if I would like to go for a ride with him and his friends. At first, I didn't see anyone else in the car, but then I looked in the back seat. Now, Fox, this is the part where it gets weird. There was a moose in the back seat--a moose and a rabbit. The next part is kind of embarrassing for me, but I was so frightened when I saw the moose that I ran away screaming. Mr. Peabody drove off, my mother came running out, and everyone started talking about the kidnapper. Soon, the police arrived, and everyone wanted to know what happened. I didn't know what to say. I know Mr. Peabody wouldn't kidnap me. And how could I tell my mother that the reason I was frightened was because there was a moose in his backseat? Now, I certainly hope you don't think I made this up because I promise you, it's the truth." She paused at that point and waited nervously for a reaction to her story. It was the truth, but she couldn't imagine anyone believing her.

Mulder had listened with amazement to the child's story. His mind was going a mile a minute. Had the lack of myth and legend in her childhood coupled with the attempted abduction caused her to snap? That didn't seem to be the case. She seemed as sane as he was--well, to be honest, she seemed a lot saner than he was. But how could the kidnapper--Mr. Peabody--have a moose riding around in his car? He decided to focus for the moment on Mr. Peabody. They could talk about the moose later. "So, Rebecca, what does Mr. Peabody do at the grocery store?"

Rebecca relaxed when she realized that Fox didn't seem to find her story the slightest bit odd. She had definitely chosen wisely when she picked him to share her strange experience with. He just seemed like the kind of person who would believe in weird stuff. "Mr. Peabody brings the cereal and puts it on the shelf. He comes every Thursday to Big Star Grocery. That's the night Mother shops. He is so kind and interesting. We talk about history, but he makes it seem real--not like he is telling you about things he read in a book, but like he is telling you about things he actually saw."

Mulder could barely contain his excitement. He hoped that Rebecca had just given him the kidnapper's name and job. Now, he just needed to find out about the moose. Trying to sound nonchalant, he asked, "What about the moose in the back seat? Was it a real moose?"

"Of course it wasn't a real moose. How could a real moose sit with a rabbit in the back seat of a car?"

"Good point, but if it wasn't a real moose, was it a stuffed moose?"

"Fox, do you think I would run away screaming from a stuffed moose? The moose was alive; it just wasn't real."

Mulder, at this point, was a having a very hard time keeping up. "Rebecca, I am a little confused here. You're telling me the moose was alive, but it wasn't real. Did you imagine it?"

"Fox, that's a little insulting. I don't imagine things. This moose wasn't real, but it was alive, just like that pig on your tie. I'm telling you, Fox, there was a moose in the back of Mr. Peabody's car, and not only was the moose alive, but the moose was loose. And don't forget that there was a rabbit, too, but it wasn't nearly as scary as the moose. Oh, and don't tell anyone, but the moose said 'hello' to me. That's when I ran away."

Mulder was really confused at this point, and he could see the doctor was ready to bring the interview to an end. For the time being, the moose would have to remain a mystery, but he had a good lead as far as the kidnapper's identity. He smiled a real smile at Rebecca and thanked her for her help, promising to drop by and talk to her again later.

******

Mulder called Scully as soon as he was out the hospital doors. She answered on the first ring. "Mulder, where are you? SAC Rossini is ready to put you on the first flight back to Washington. He clearly views ditching his daily briefing as a personal insult."

"Listen, Scully, I got a lead. Did they present any information on the possible connection between the grocery stores today?"

"No, Mulder, I'm not even sure Rossini has anyone looking into that angle. I don't believe he thinks much of your idea, or of you. He said your profile was crap, and you sure as hell weren't living up to your reputation as a crack profiler, but he could definitely see why everyone thought you were a pain in the ass. He wants to see you immediately."

"Oh, Scully, that wounds me. You know how important it is to me to be loved. If you can avoid it, don't tell him you talked to me. Oh, one last thing. I don't know how important it is, but there is a moose involved in this case, and the moose is on the loose. I gotta run. Places to go, people to see."

"Mulder, don't you dare hang up on me. Mulder, where are you? What's your lead and what are you talking about, 'the moose is loose'?" Dammit, she was talking to the ether--again. "What the hell is wrong with that man?"

******

Thanks to his eidetic memory, Mulder was able to remember each of the grocery stores visited by the kidnapped children. He was on his fifth store, Mel's Discount Grocery, inspecting the cereal aisle, when he saw the man that had to be Mr. Peabody. He was small, slender, close to Scully's height, and was wearing black-rimmed glasses. He was busy stocking the shelves, but was also busy chatting with several children. Both Mr. Peabody and the kids seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. This man certainly didn't look like a serial kidnapper, but Mulder was sure this was the Mr. Peabody that Rebecca had talked about. He didn't want to start anything here in the store, not with so many civilians in the vicinity, and especially not with the children so close to the man. He sure didn't want a hostage situation, and he sure didn't want a dead suspect. He needed this man alive to find out where the other children were being held. At least, he hoped the man was still holding them captive; the alternative was not something he wanted to consider. Mulder's careful perusal of the suspect didn't reveal any obvious weapons, but it was best to err on the side of caution. He would wait until the man was in the parking lot before approaching.

Unfortunately, Mr. Peabody had already noted his presence and was busy formulating a plan of his own. He gradually worked his way down the cereal aisle, stocking the shelves as he went. He was now as close to the exit as he could get without leaving the aisle. At that point he turned to his young charges and conspiratorially asked, "Do you see the tall gentleman in the dark suit with the cool tie?" When the children nodded vigorously, he continued, "Well, he's a friend of mine and a policeman. He has a gun and everything. Why don't you go and talk to him, while I run out to the truck for another load of cereal? I am sure he has some great stories. Just address him as Mr. Detective." With the children's attention diverted, Mr. Peabody was on his way, slipping around the corner, into the office, through the employee exit, and out into the alley--instead of the parking lot where his delivery truck was parked.

Mulder started to move after him, but he suddenly found himself surrounded by small children calling him Mr. Detective and demanding a story. Damn, the man had made him. Just his luck that the only one who thought he looked like a law enforcement officer would be the suspect. He quickly extricated himself from the ring of children and was on the chase. He flew out the front doors, scanned the parking lot with a practiced eye, and noted the delivery truck still parked in the same spot. He raced back into the store, shouting, "Which way did Peabody go?" He was met with shocked faces and fingers pointing to the office. He tore out of the office in hot pursuit, just in time to see the elusive suspect disappear around the corner. The man was faster than he expected considering his small stature, but now that he had visual contact, he was confident of his ability to catch the surprisingly swift suspect. He careened around the corner, pleased to see that he was quickly gaining ground. He nearly had him when the man disappeared through one of the doors lining the ally. Mulder, fearing he was about to be thwarted by a locked door, put on a last minute burst of speed and foolishly flung himself through the still open door after the suspect. He had a momentary glimpse of the wide-eyed, shocked expression on the face of Mr. Peabody as he hurtled past him. Then, his body plummeted downward, striking the floor with a thunderous thud. He woozily lifted his head and saw that he was at the bottom of some kind of shaft, with a door to the right. He could hear Mr. Peabody clambering down the ladder after him; he knew he needed to get up and away before he became Peabody's latest victim. With a final effort, he pulled himself to his knees and was able to crawl through the fortuitously unlocked door. He had a brief impression of bright light and bodies before he lost consciousness.

******

Scully was approaching full panic mode. She had repeatedly called Mulder's cell, only to be greeted with the hated, 'The cellular customer you are attempting to reach is unavailable or is outside the coverage of the network.' She had initiated an emergency search for his location using the GPS location software in his phone, but even that had failed to reveal his whereabouts. She had just returned to the Bureau office for the 7 PM briefing and was debating how she would break this unwelcome news to Rossini. Her thoughts on the matter were scattered when the SAC entered the briefing room, and noting Mulder's absence, angrily demanded, "Where is Agent Mulder? I've had it with his cavalier attitude and half-assed profile. As far as I am concerned, he's off this case. We've got fifteen missing kids, and he has been less than useless in finding them or their kidnapper. On top of everything else, I got a complaint about him from Rebecca Sooter's doctor. The doctor said he barged in there early this morning, demanding to speak to Rebecca; claims that Mulder had the girl talking nonsense about the kidnappers, including a moose and a rabbit. For good measure, he even added that Mulder didn't look or act like any FBI agent he had ever seen."

Scully took a deep breath and delivered the unwelcome news. "Sir, I believe Agent Mulder may be in trouble. I spoke to him early this morning, at which point he was following what he believed to be a lead on the kidnapper. Since then, I have had no contact with him. He was supposed to check in around noon. I'd like to initiate a formal search."

"Agent Scully, I see no evidence that Agent Mulder has met with any misfortune. He didn't contact me about any leads, solid or otherwise. I understand your concern, but as you know I'm critically short of manpower."

Scully, sensing that she was about to be turned down, interrupted the SAC's tirade. "I understand that you don't have enough agents for the case, but surely you can at least spare me. My skills are not yet needed, as luckily, thus far there have been no bodies that require autopsies. I could start the search for Agent Mulder."

"I just don't like the idea of sending you out without backup. The Bureau assigned a new agent to the case yesterday. He would have been the perfect match for you, but at the last minute they diverted him to a serial murder case in New York. With him you'd have some backup--just in case Mulder really has gotten his ass in trouble."

Scully bit her tongue to keep from saying something she would regret in response to the disparaging remarks being made by Rossini, instead simply waiting for him to finish. When he was done, she would go find Mulder--with or without the Bureau's blessing.

"Yeah, he and I go way back. We were kids in Georgia together. He's a terrific agent, solid and down to earth. You'd be able to depend on him, unlike that flake you have for a partner now. He believes in good solid police work, a real dollar to donuts kind of guy. His name's John Doggett. He'd of been a real good influence on you. I'm sorry, Agent Scully, but without him, I just can't spare anyone to back you up while you search for what I consider to be a rogue agent."

Her concern for Mulder ratcheting upward with every passing second, Scully looked the SAC straight in the eye and with extreme effort managed a polite and professional response. "Well, in that case I would like to continue the search on my own. I'll keep in close touch with the team and keep you posted on my investigation. I think I'll begin with the grocery store link that Mulder found so interesting. If I get worried, I'll call in for backup." She then tilted her head up and locked gazes with her superior. "And sir, Agent Mulder is a fine partner, whether you think so or not. There is no one I'd rather have watching my back."

"I am not going to argue Agent Mulder's qualities with you Agent Scully. His absence speaks for itself, but I sympathize with your concern. It is against my better judgment to send an agent out alone, but you have my permission to initiate a search for him. I hate sending you out without backup, but under the circumstances, I just can't justify additional manpower. Make certain you check in regularly and keep me informed of your location."

Scully mumbled a barely coherent "no problem, thank you for approving the search" as she headed out of the Bureau Headquarters, SAC Rossini and his prejudice already dismissed from conscious thought as her mind focused on the search for her missing partner. Panic nibbled at her heels, kept at bay only by her faith in Mulder's profiling and survival skills. If he believed the grocery stores were the key to this case, then that would be where she would initiate her search for him. And he would somehow hang on--wherever he was--until she could get to him.

*******

Mulder could feel consciousness returning to his aching body. He tried to remember where he was, how he had gotten there, and why he had this excruciating pain in his head, but it was just too hard to think. Someone was vigorously shaking him, and a familiar voice was demanding that he not only wake up, but also get up and get moving. He ineffectually tried to push the offending hands away. Gradually the sense of urgency in the anonymous, annoying, yet strangely familiar voice, began to filter into his pain-wracked brain. With superhuman effort he pulled his eyes open and was greeted by the worried countenance of his partner. "Scully, where am I? How did you get here? And stop shaking me, my head is killing me."

"Never mind that, we have to get out of here--now. This building is going to blow, and it will take us with it if we don't get moving now." His diminutive partner continued to pull on his arm, urging him to his feet. Accustomed to obeying that voice without question in times of danger, Mulder lurched to his feet, sincerely hoping that his head wasn't really exploding in response to the sudden movement.

The partners rushed through the only door leading out of the room they were in, hauled themselves up the rickety escape ladder, and hustled through the exit door and out into the darkened ally. Mulder stumbled after his partner who offered as much assistance as possible, considering the huge difference in size. Finally judging they had put sufficient distance between themselves and the building, they ducked behind a dumpster just as the building they had escaped from erupted into a huge orange fireball that briefly turned darkness into daylight.

Mulder mumbled a heartfelt, "Thanks Scully," before noting that she was giving him a very strange look. "What's the matter, Scully? You're looking at me like I just sprouted antlers."

"What's the matter with me? The question is, what's the matter with you? Don't you remember me? I'm your partner, and what are you talking about, 'just sprouted antlers'?"

"Of course I remember you, Scully. Nothing's the matter with me except for a pounding headache. The last thing I can remember is chasing the suspect in our serial kidnapping case. I almost had him, too. Now, could you just explain what happened, why the building blew up, and how you found me?"

The highly agitated smaller partner peered into the much larger partner's eyes, obviously searching for signs of a concussion. "First of all, my name isn't Scully. Second of all, something is clearly the matter with you. Third of all, I don't know why the building blew up. Last of all, you went into that building chasing a suspect two days ago and disappeared. I've been searching for you ever since, but it was like you disappeared into thin air. It was just luck that I stumbled across you when I did; one minute the room was empty, and the next, there you were. And even more last of all, Bullwinkle, you've always had antlers."

At that last remark, Mulder dropped his head into his lap and moaned. Bullwinkle? This had to be a bad joke. He wondered if he was dead or just delusional. After a moment's reflection, he decided he'd best find out which of those was true. He looked into the very familiar face of his partner and asked, "Ok, if I'm Bullwinkle, then who are you, and what are we doing here?"

"I'm your partner and best friend, Rocket J. Squirrel, but you just call me Rocky. We've been investigating a cereal kidnapping. I'm sure that dastardly duo Boris Badenov and his cunning cohort Natasha Fatale are behind the kidnappings, but so far we haven't been able to find any proof. You've got to pull yourself together, Bullwinkle, and we've got to foil the fiendish plot to corner the Frostbite Falls cereal market and find the missing cereal before the children of Frostbite Falls develop malnutrition."

Mulder reflected on his new circumstances thinking that at least the part about investigating a serial kidnapping sounded familiar.

******

Mr. Peabody stumbled into the room in hot pursuit of the persistent FBI agent. He was shocked to find no sign of the aggravating agent, but he was relieved that all of the children were just as he had left them. Quickly, he asked his charges if they had seen the troublesome man.

One of the children responded, "A man was here for a minute. He didn't look too good, and then he kind of evaporated."

At that news, poor Mr. Peabody dropped his head into his hands, mumbling, "Things were bad before, but now they are worse." Raising his head, he addressed the others in the room. "Children, if you have finished your history assignments for today, you may watch cartoons. I'll be in my invention room. And Sharon, would you please ask Silly Rabbit and Bullwinkle to load the tooncars onto the truck after they get the cereal unloaded? Ask them to come see me as soon as they are done." With those words, Mr. Peabody disappeared into the invention room to think.

The perspicacious Agent Mulder was already well known to Mr. Peabody as his perverse penchant for truth seeking had frequently threatened to alter the flow of history. It now appeared that Agent Mulder was the alter-ego of either Silly Rabbit or Bullwinkle. He had known that the presence of those toons in this time and space would create a vacuum in the adjacent universe, and that there was, therefore, a slight risk of an event such as this. The uncommonly unfortunate agent had apparently gotten too close to the portal and been sucked into the alternative universe to restore the balance. What were the odds that this would happen? Six-billion people on this planet, and who follows him home? One of the only two humans alive that could possibly pass into the other universe. It was his invention that made it possible for toons to move into this universe against the gradient, and it had been his decision to have Silly Rabbit bring the shipments of cereal here so that he would have a means of support while he searched for his boy, Sherman. He thought the risk of Silly Rabbit's alter-ego showing up at the portal to be negligible. Then, Bullwinkle had unexpectedly arrived after falling into the back of Silly Rabbit's delivery truck while investigating a cereal shortage. Mr. Peabody had been forced to intervene to prevent Bullwinkle from inflicting bodily harm on Silly Rabbit for his role in smuggling cereal into this adjacent universe. Bullwinkle was, of course, quite understanding now that he understood that Silly Rabbit's motivations had been entirely altruistic. Well, almost entirely altruistic. Mr. Peabody had allowed Silly Rabbit to eat all the Trix he wanted. After all, he needed to repay the rabbit for his services somehow. In any case, the small amount of cereal Silly Rabbit had smuggled between universes would never have been enough to cause a cereal shortage. Clearly, the cereal shortage was the result of the machinations of another group whose motives were no doubt much more diabolical.

No matter how it had all happened, though, Mr. Peabody had created quite a mess and he needed to fix it quickly. Agent Mulder could not be left to wreak havoc in the wrong universe. He had to be returned to his own time and space. With a heavy heart, Mr. Peabody decided that he and his friends were going to have to return home without finding his boy Sherman. At the loud arrival of Bullwinkle and Silly Rabbit, Mr. Peabody looked up to explain his plan. "I am going to have to return to the toon side of Frostbite Falls. Both of you will have to remain here until I am able to bring Agent Mulder back to the vicinity of the portal connecting the two universes. In the meantime, take good care of the children and make sure they keep up with their lessons. You can only remain in this universe for 22.5 more hours before you will be real-ized--like I was. You both know how dangerous that is. If I have not yet managed the transfer by then, you will have to come through the portal on your own. Your arrival will be extremely dangerous for Agent Mulder since the presence of his alter ego in toon Frostbite Falls will cause his immediate real-ization, but it is unavoidable. You simply can't risk remaining here beyond the deadline."

******

Mulder kept pinching himself, hoping all of it was a bad dream from which he would awaken at any minute. He passed his hands in the air over his head, waving for the antlers. Baam. His head jerked backwards as his left hand collided with something hard. Mulder followed the protrusion upwards, noting the many forks. He had really sprouted antlers. Then he felt his nose. It was soft and furry and even bigger than before.

With a sigh, he turned to follow Scully - no, he forcibly corrected himself. Not Scully. Rocky. Rocky the lovely squirrel. He shook his head. He followed Sc--Rocky as the squirrel kept talking. "Bullwinkle, would you please focus and quit fawning over yourself? We have got to find the missing cereal! It's been disappearing from kitchen tables, factories, and delivery trucks all over town. There have been multiple complaints from citizens about the cereal shortage. Cereal. Don't you care about that at all?"

Mulder blinked. Rocky sighed. "What is wrong with you? First you call me Scully, and now you don't even bother bringing up box tops when I mention cereal in front of you."

Mulder blinked again. "Box tops?"

"A few days ago, every time I tried to discuss this, you went off on your box tops. Would you like me to list your box tops for you? I've only heard about your amazing personal collection of cereal box tops a million times. Oh, wait, I believe you called it, 'my world-famous collection of box tops'."

"I have a world-famous collection of box tops?"

"Oh, whatever is wrong with you today, Bullwinkle? It is almost as if you've returned a different moose!"

******

Mulder watched nervously as Rocky approached the Skinner-look-alike. Rocky had already glared at him for yelling, "Skinner!" And that was after he had received a lecture on paying attention and dealing with the matters at hand. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. It was already wreaking havoc with his confused mind. Skinner looked very odd in that red Canadian Mounted Police uniform.

Rocky and Dudley Do-Right held a whispered conversation, regarding the sudden shortage of cereal, the concomitant rise in cereal prices, and "Boris" and "Natasha", whoever they were. Rocky had mentioned them once before and was certainly under the impression that they were to blame for the current cereal shortage.

He glanced up to see Rocky stalking back towards him. Rocky was really little, but he could get scary when he developed an attitude. His alarm went off full blast: "Scully mad, Scully mad, Scully mad." He turned it off and, trying to be civil, asked, "So, Rocky," with an emphasis on the name, "did you find anything of interest?"

"No. Absolutely nothing. What about you? Don't you have anything to add? You were supposed to be investigating this case! You followed Silly Rabbit into that abandoned building. Then poof, you ditched me for two days! Where were you for two days, and how did you suddenly end up back in that building?"

Mulder stumbled over his words. "Umm...uhh...investigating?"

"Dudley Do-Right told us three days ago that somebody had seen Silly Rabbit loading a truck with cereal. You were supposed to interrogate him. Don't tell me it took you two days to question somebody. Did you ever even talk to Silly Rabbit?

Mulder blinked slowly and rubbed his antlers, doing his very best to make sense of his new reality. "Silly Rabbit?"

Clearly confused and more than slightly aggravated, Rocky saved him from making any further attempts at intelligent conversation by announcing. "You know what? Forget it. I'll go interview Silly Rabbit myself. You just sit here and don't move. Maybe your mind will come back to you while I am gone"

With that, Rocky stomped off, leaving a stunned Mulder sitting on the ground contemplating the cracked reflection of reality that had become his life.

*****

Mulder looked up to see a dog running towards him, a dog with spectacles. As the dog neared, it opened its mouth and panted, "Finally. Here you are. I've been looking all over for you. You have got to come with me now."

Mulder stared. The dog was talking to him. He finally managed to say, "I'm sorry. I can't. I promised my partner I would wait here for her."

"She? Your partner? And who would that be?"

"Sc--Rocky. My partner is Rocky."

Mulder watched, confused, as the dog hit himself in the head repeatedly, finally grasping one of Mulder's antlers and tugging. "Come on. Come with me now. And just for the record, Rocky is male."

Having had quite enough of this, Mulder pulled his antler free and brusquely interrupted, "Who are you?"

"I'm Mr. Peabody. Now will you quit yapping and come along like a good little moose?"

"Mr. Peabody?" Mulder scratched at his antlers, idly wondering how Mr. Peabody had managed to turn into a dog. "I've been looking for you, too! I'd like to question you about the kidnappings--"

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll explain it all. That's the only way to get you pigheaded moose to do anything."

Mulder flinched at the word 'moose' but sat quietly awaiting the explanation.

"A month ago my boy Sherman and I went on an expedition with The Wayback Machine. We were traveling to the Queen Anne. Somewhere along the way we got separated. I ended up in your universe--real-ized. I don't know how it happened, but I lost Sherman, so I fabricated my plan to find him. I didn't harm any of those kids. I just needed to bring them to the portal, to see if they were Sherman. I was very careful to see that they were properly nourished and that they did not neglect their studies. I was going to return them as soon as I found Sherman. Probabilities indicated that he would also have been real-ized and deposited in the same general locale where I found myself."

For some reason, that explanation sounded perfectly reasonable to Mulder, whose thought processes were not exactly up to par. Perhaps antlers obstructed clear thinking. Then, at the mention of the Queen Anne, Mulder cut in excitedly. "I think I know what happened to Sherman. One month ago, I was on the Queen Anne--in the Bermuda Triangle. There was a time anomaly. You and Sherman were probably separated by the time rift, and you ended up back in the present while he remained in the past. Can you go back there using that Wayback Machine you mentioned? I think Sherman will still be there--on the Queen Anne."

Mr. Peabody was so excited at the prospect of finding Sherman that he forgot his original plan to return Mulder to the portal and set the worlds right again. Instead, he hustled off to his den, where The Wayback Machine was harbored, leaving Mulder still sitting on the ground.

******

"Bullwinkle, get up! Why are you sitting on the ground?"

Mulder glanced up to see Rocky glaring at him in an unnerving fashion. "You told me to wait here for you."

"Well, get up now, you big lump. No one knows where Silly Rabbit is. We're going to go see the deputy, to see what he has to say."

*****

Mulder wanted earplugs. Quite desperately. If he had to hear the Deputy draawwlll his name one more time, he would go crazy. If he wasn't already. "So, Buulllllwinkle, what do you think?"

What did he think about what? He had absolutely no clue what he thought beyond the certainty that he didn't want to play BS with that deputy. A game could take a whole year if he said "Buullllshit" as slowly as he said "Buullllwinkle".

Rocky spoke up for him. "The eyewitness claims it was Silly Rabbit, but I don't think Silly Rabbit would do such a thing. Silly Rabbit is a petty thief, and his only interest is Trix. I still think Boris and Natasha are behind it, and it's just my luck that nobody has any idea where Silly Rabbit is." Rocky muttered something under his breath that Mulder couldn't catch. It did, however, sound suspiciously like, 'Bullwinkle was supposed to find Silly Rabbit.' "I'm going to go look for him one more time, and this time you're coming, Bullwinkle. Do you understand?"

Mulder nodded, but not before the Deputy jumped in again with his drawl. "Ya know, Rocky, we turned up an eyewitness to one of the cereal nappings. Nobody's had the chance to question him yet; maybe you could go, especially since nobody can find Silly Rabbit right now."

Rocky nodded his enthusiastic agreement to the deputy's suggestion. A new witness might provide some additional avenues of investigation and they were certainly stymied at the moment. Excited at the possibility of gathering new information, Rocky started shooing Mulder out the door, turning back when the deputy offered his opinion that "dollars to donuts, Silly Rabbit's your guy".

Rocky had opened his mouth, starting another tirade pinning all the conspiracies in this world on Natasha and Boris, not Silly Rabbit, when he suddenly realized the Deputy had neglected to tell him exactly who the eyewitness was. Changing topics halfway through his argument, Rocky asked, "Who am I going to question?"

The Deputy looked a bit taken aback by the sudden question but realized his error and told them it was Daffy Duck. Rocky seemed satisfied and bid the deputy goodbye. Meanwhile Mulder was smiling to himself, glad to see Rocky forgetting something for a change and wondering just who the heck Natasha and Boris were. Rocky sure had it in for the two of them and seemed especially antagonistic towards Natasha. His musings were interrupted as Rocky again began shooing him out the door. His mind suddenly processed what the Deputy had said. Daffy Duck? They weren't really going to go interview a duck, were they? And not just any duck, but a daffy duck? Mulder took one last look at the short, heavyset, floppy eared deputy with a bulldog jaw, and a big nose and was suddenly very curious. "I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name..."

The Deputy shot him a look of pure confusion, but after a moment's pause said, "My name is Dawg. Deputy Dawg."

*****

After they left, Rocky rounded on Mulder. "You didn't catch his name? You've only been working with him forever. What is wrong with you today? Oh, whatever. Let's go find Daffy Duck."

Mulder almost asked, "Daffy Duck?" before realizing he would probably be better off keeping his mouth shut.

Right then, Mr. Peabody bounded up behind the pair, dragging along a small boy. He shouted with joy, "I found Sherman! I found Sherman! Thank you so much, Bullwinkle!" He paused. "Bullwinkle...Bullwinkle! You need to come with me now!" He glanced at his watch shouting, "Oh, no! Silly Rabbit and the real Bullwinkle will be coming through the portal in fifteen minutes. We have to hurry or you will be real-ized when the real Bullwinkle returns, and then you can be killed. You know toons can never die--well, they can be erased, but they can never die." With that cryptic remark, Mr. Peabody ran off.

Rocky and a very confused Mulder followed Mr. Peabody, and, as they ran, he began to recognize his surroundings. Peabody was leading him back to the building he had first found himself in. He wondered why. As they approached the rubble, they saw a two figures climbing up out of the rubble, seemingly from a shaft or room ensconced beneath there. Mulder shouted, "It's Cancer Man and Diana!" as Rocky simultaneously yelled, "It's Boris and Natasha." Both took off in pursuit as Boris and Natasha disappeared back into the rubble, completely ignoring Mr. Peabody who was shouting, "Stop, stop, Bullwinkle! You are about to be real-ized. It's too dangerous."

Rocky and Bullwinkle raced down the ladder after the diabolical duo, catching a brief glimpse of them as they disappeared through a secret door and into a massive hidden room. The intrepid moose and squirrel pushed the previously undetected door open, revealing thousands of boxes of cereal before Natasha and Boris opened fire, forcing the partners to seek cover. Then, Mulder had the strangest feeling as a white rabbit and the real Bullwinkle materialized in the room with him. Simultaneously, a ricocheting bullet glanced off Mulder's forehead, and the chaos and gunfire dissolved to black.

*****

Next time he awoke, he saw Scully peering at him. "Mulder, are you okay?"

"You're still here, Rocky?" Suddenly, it occurred to him that Scully had called him Mulder. She knew who he was! He surreptitiously reached up, first to feel the top of his head, and then his nose. He heaved a great sigh of relief: no antlers and no furry nose. He was Mulder again, Scully was here, and all was right with the universe.

Scully eyed Mulder oddly. "Rocky? Rocky the flying squirrel? Rocky the flying squirrel who works with Bullwinkle? Rocky the flying squirrel who works with Bullwinkle the moose? Are you sure you're feeling okay, Mulder?"

At the word moose, Mulder grimaced, but quickly changed that to a grin at the knowledge that he was finally back with Scully. "Yep, Scully, I'm feeling fine, but boy, do I have a story to tell you. First of all, did you find the kids?"

"Yes, they were in the same room where I found you. They were quite concerned about you, but they were in excellent mental and physical health and seemed to have learned a great deal of history during their ordeal. They were very unclear on how you happened to be there, unconscious and bleeding from a head wound. I'd been looking for you since yesterday. While SAC Rossini was less than concerned, I was worried sick; this ditching has got to stop. But, in any event, you are the hero of the moment. Dashing FBI agent is injured in the recovery of 15 missing children and all that." She held up the local paper with the headline and his picture. "You made the Bureau look good. Really good. Of course, everyone is wondering what happened to the kidnapper."

"Scully, there never was a 'real' kidnapper, although there was an abetting rabbit and 'a moose on the loose', just as the astute Miss Rebecca Sooter informed me. I didn't really do anything, but the coolest thing happened. I was in this alternate universe, and Scully, you were a squirrel, and you could fly. Skinner was there, too. He was Canadian. Hang onto your hat and listen to this tale."

Scully eyed him critically, but in view of all the painkillers he was on, decided to humor him, giving him a barely perceptible nod to continue. At her look of compliance, he began his amazing tale at the point where he chased Mr. Peabody from the grocery store and ended it at the point where they discovered Cancer Man, Diana, and the stolen cereal. Having completed his fantastic story, he gave Scully a self-satisfied smile. "So, what do you think, Scully?"

She resisted the eye roll in consideration of his drugged state and gave him a raised eyebrow instead. "I think, Mulder, that was a very interesting story, and I will see you when the drugs wear off."

As she approached the doorway, he called out, "Hey, Scully," and fixed her with his best puppy dog look.

With a slight sigh, she returned to his bedside. "Yes, Mulder?"

Mulder gazed into the serious and beautiful eyes of his partner, momentarily losing himself in her return gaze before finally confessing, "Scully, I moosed you."

Scully rolled her eyes and groaned. "Oh, brother..."

Mulder watched her leave with a cryptic smile. It was deja vu all over again.

******

END

Additional Disclaimers: Rocky, Bullwinkle, Dudley Do-Right, Natasha, Boris, Mr. Peabody, and Sherman are the property of Jay Ward Productions. Deputy Dawg is a Terrytoon and Daffy Duck and Porky Pig belong to Looney Tunes. Frostbite Falls is a fictional location created by Jay Ward Productions.