Date: Mon, 30 Sep 96 08:28:20 PST
From: "schneider, kathy" <kmspider@aol.com>

Disclaimer: Chant official disclaimer words aloud while
standard
denial song is hummed loudly in foreground. Don't own
'em. Never will. Ain't making money from 'em. Fox
Mulder, Walter Skinner, Reggie Perdue, Jerry Lamatta
Blevins, Steve Wallenberg, John Barnett property of
Carter, 1013 & Fox.

Author note: Pre-xfiles story. All Mulder. No Scully.
Rating: Mild R for language and violence.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
BY KMS!
kmspider@aol.com

Fox Mulder's still form lay on the bed, his wrists in
the restraints. His breathing was rhythmic in sedated
slumber, an intravenous needle still lodged in his arm.

Reggie Perdue glanced up as Assistant Director Walter
Skinner walked into the room. Skinner hesitated a
moment, taking everything in, then sat down on the
chair beside Reggie.

"Blevins notified me. How is he?" Skinner asked.

Reggie's eyes rested on the sleeping form of Mulder.
"They got him sedated now.
He's been asleep for a couple of hours."

Reggie's gaze moved back to Skinner's face. "The stuff
he said before...did it pan out?"

Skinner looked away, removed his glasses and tiredly
rubbed at the bridge between his eyes. "They found the
girl, right where Mulder said to look," he said with a
sigh. "But the bastard got away."

He slipped his glasses back on and looked at the older
black man. "Do you think we dare wake him up long
enough to ask him where to go next?"

Reggie looked hard into eyes that were made a little
larger behind the glasses. He shook his head with a
sigh. "I hate to. He's pretty bad. Mostly
incoherent."

"We may not have a choice. Baltimore PD just got a
report of another missing child. The squad thinks it
may be our man again."

"Damn." Reggie said softly.

Skinner slid his hands down his thighs to wipe them as
he stood up and walked to the bed. He gazed at the
sleeping form of his agent, noting the regular rise and
fall of his chest. A moment later he felt the presence
of Reggie Perdue next to him.

"I feel like hell, asking you to wake him," He shook
his head. "He looks so damn young when he's asleep.
Like a little boy," he said with a frown.

Reggie nodded his head in agreement. "I know what you
mean. It got pretty ugly when he was awake. It took
four of us to hold him down so they could sedate him
the first time."

"I know. I read the report. They found glass all over
the bathroom? 'Cause he broke the mirror?"

"Yeah." Reggie rubbed his tired eyes. "His hands were
cut up pretty bad."

Skinner looked down for the first time and noticed the
bandages on Mulder's hands and forearms. "Do you think
he tried to hurt himself?" he asked sharply.

Reggie looked to where Skinner's eyes rested. "No," he
shook his head slowly. "No. Most of the cuts are on
the palms of his hands. We think he was slapping at it
when he broke it. Trying to get out."

Skinner looked at Reggie, amazed, "Through the mirror?"

Reggie's gaze returned to Mulder's face, so peaceful in
sleep. "Through the looking glass." Reggie said
distantly.

Skinner studied Perdue a moment. "What does that
mean?" he asked softly.

Reggie's eyes didn't leave Mulder's face. "You mean
beyond the reference to 'Alice in Wonderland?' I don't
know. Nobody does. He just kept saying it over and
over until they shot him so full of drugs he stopped
talking."

Mulder shifted in his sleep, a moan escaping his lips.
He pulled feebly at the restraints.

Instinctively Reggie reached out a hand and placed it
on Mulder's shoulder, a warm touch to let him know he
was not alone. The frown that had furrowed Mulder's
brow smoothed itself out. With a sigh, Mulder relaxed
and lapsed back into sleep.

Skinner lifted his arm and glanced at his watch. "I
have to go." He said to Reggie. "I'm sending an agent
by to record anything he says. He should be here
shortly. And, Reg?"

Reggie looked up.

"The name of the missing child? It's Alice... Alice
Glass."

A cold finger shivered down Reggie's spine.

"And, Reg?"

"Sir?"

"She disappeared about the same time Mulder had his
'outburst'." Skinner said carefully, pausing before the
last word. Disbelief showed on Perdue's face. Skinner
raised one ironic eyebrow. "Spooky, huh? Keep me
updated."

Reggie looked back over his shoulder as the AD exited,
"Yes, Sir," he replied and a moment later he was alone
with Fox.

He looked down at his friend, reaching out to smooth a
stray lock of hair from Mulder's forehead. Reggie and
his wife had never had children, and he remembered the
first time he had taken Fox Mulder home for dinner. He
thought Emma was going to squeeze the life out of the
poor boy with her welcoming hug. He had met Fox Mulder
when Mulder had just graduated from the academy at
Quantico. The still wet-behind-the-ears agent had
arrived at the bureau with a reputation already in
place. Rumor had it he had picked up the nickname
'Spooky' at the academy. His talent for putting
together
off-the-wall facts and solving cases were becoming
legendary.

Some of Mulder's ideas seemed extreme but damn if they
didn't turn out to be true.

There was a story going around about Mulder's
abilities. One of the many cases the bureau was unable
to solve was used as an example for students. The
whole class was given the chance to solve the case. In
the last ten years, no one had. At least, no one,
until Fox Mulder had shown up on the scene. Part of
the assignment was for the student to write a profile
on the suspect. Fox Mulder's profile was like a
blueprint for his professors. Intrigued by Mulder's
profile, the instructor had asked a fellow agent to
check it out. Twenty-four hours later the suspect was
in custody. About the only thing the profile didn't
include was the man's shoe size. A twenty-year old
case, solved by a student in a day. Spooky! That's
how he got the name. Now who had given him that name?
Reggie thought hard. Oh yeah. Jerry. Jerry Lamatta
had teasingly nicknamed him that and it had stuck.
Reggie's brown eyes were sad a moment. Poor Mulder.
He hated that name. Reggie grinned. Almost as much as
he hated being called
by his given name, Fox.

As soon as Mulder graduated from the academy he was
assigned to the Violent Crimes Section and Reggie was
assigned as his ASAC. Mulder had practically bounced
into his office, he was so eager. Perdue got pissed
off just looking at him. He was so green. So preppy!
Reggie had kept an eye on him. Mulder was so full of
himself and so sure that he could solve the bank
robberies that they had been assigned, he was almost
annoying with solutions. But Mulder was right about
the robber's moves and was out-thinking the man.
Barnett, the perpetrator, started to view it as a game
of cat and mouse, leaving notes for Mulder. 'Fox and
Hound play chase,' one note had read. The way that
Mulder was two steps ahead of Barnett; it was eerie.
Watching the way Mulder's mind worked, Reggie
understood why they called him Spooky.

The case had ended badly when they had surrounded
Barnett and he had tried to shoot his way out. Mulder
had followed the rules, played by the book, but Barnett
didn't. The shoot-out had resulted in the death of
fellow agent, Steve Walenberg. Mulder blamed himself.
He felt that he should have been able to predict that
Barnett would not give up and he should have broken the
rules and shot Barnett, even if it meant endangering a
hostage. Mulder also felt guilty that Walenberg had
left a wife and kid behind.

"I think it was then you threw out the rule book,
Mulder," Reggie said quietly.

Reggie thought back to the beginning of this case,
wondering what had set Mulder off, caught in this
internal world surrounded by his own demons. He
studied the boyish face again. "Damn it, Fox," he
whispered to the sleeping man, "Why didn't you just ask
for help? I could have taken you off this case if it
was too much for you."

But he knew the answer to that one. Mulder had an
unerring instinct for solving cases and getting into
trouble. Even some of the people he caught, admired
his abilities. The name John Barnett, again, floated
to the surface of his thoughts. 'Bastard! Thank God,
he was behind bars now,' Reggie thought.

Reggie studied the sleeping face again. What Reggie
wouldn't give at this moment to hear Mulder's teasing
voice saying his name over and over like a mantra.

Reg-gee. Reg-gee. Reg-gee. Like he was Reggie
Jackson at the World Series Games and Mulder was a
fanatical fan. Reggie snorted to himself and his face
twisted with a wry grin. God, he hated it when Mulder
did that. Still, it would be better than the screams
he had been hearing since yesterday.

Reggie had been the first one they called when they had
found him in the bathroom. They had heard Mulder's
screaming and had pounded on the door to be let it.
Mulder hadn't responded, just more muffled yells and
then the sound of breaking glass. Someone had finally
kicked the door in. There was Mulder, screaming and
incoherent, broken pieces of mirror everywhere. Four
agents had gone in to subdue him. Reggie had gotten
around the other agents and had reached Mulder's side,
only to find him holding a piece of broken glass in his
bloody hands and repeating over and over, 'Through the
looking glass. Through the looking glass.' Reggie had
finally eased the glass out of his hands, listening as
Mulder hissed with pain. He quickly wrapped the hands
in a towel, then, glancing over his shoulder, yelled
"Get an ambulance." At the time Reggie had noted that
Mulder had no cuts on his wrists. The palms of his
hands and the back of his forearms had been lacerated.
There were no cuts or bruises on his knuckles. Mulder
had not hit the mirror with his fist, he had hit it
with his open palm until the glass gave way under his
hands.

Reggie was still puzzled. What was with the mirror?
What did Mulder see? Was he just so distraught with
the case that he freaked out? Under too much pressure?

This case had to be doing a number on him. It was
doing a number on all of them. The abduction and death
of four children, so far, had haunted them all. The
press quickly dubbed the killer 'The Harton Murderer'
after the small town where the first body was
discovered. Mulder felt responsible, wanting to
prevent them all. Each small body that was found was
like a knife in his heart.
When the third child had been found, a small, dark
haired girl of eight, Reggie
had arrived at the scene only to find Mulder apart from
the rest. His arms were wrapped around himself, his
head down, while tears streamed silently down his face.
No other agent had seen, so Reggie had hustled Mulder
out of there until he could collect himself. Reggie
silently cursed himself now for not having paid more
attention to what had happened. Everyone had trouble
with cases once in a while, but this case was pushing
Mulder right over the edge. HAD pushed him over.

Reggie sighed again. He knew Mulder would have to be
questioned again, but the prospect of it made him
shudder. Best to get it over with now though and be
done with it. Perdue pushed the call button to signal
a nurse and a moment later one appeared at the door.

"Please get Doctor Saunders." Reggie said. The dark
haired nurse turned and left, returning a few minutes
later with the doctor.

George Saunders was a middle-aged man with a slight
paunch. 'Too much hospital food.' Reggie thought to
himself.

"You wanted to speak to me, Agent Perdue?" Dr. Saunders
said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"I hate to do this, Doctor, but we need to talk to
Mulder. Do you think you could start bringing him
around?"

"I'm not recommending it, Agent Perdue." Dr. Saunders
replied.

"I know that, Doctor. And believe me, if it wasn't
vital, I would never ask. We believe Agent Mulder may
be able to help us prevent the death of the children
being stalked by the Harton Murderer.

The doctor drew a sharp breath. "I had no idea he was
working on that case. My son went to school with one
of the victims, Susan Freedman." He shook his head in
horror. "Do you think he can really help? I was the
admitting physician when the ambulance brought him in.
He didn't even know his own name."

"He wrote the profile for this criminal, Doctor. From
what he has put together so far, we were able to
prevent another child being taken today. We need to
talk to him. We have to find out what our suspect will
do next, especially since we managed to stop him
today."

The doctor looked down at his patient and shook his
head. "I'll do it, but I have to insist we keep him in
restraints until we can assess his condition."

"Agreed," Reggie replied.

The doctor looked down at the medical file he carried
in his hands. "Agent Perdue, are you aware of the
results of the toxicology tests that we ran on Agent
Mulder?"

Reggie looked up at the doctor. "What were they?" he
asked, puzzled. Mulder wasn't a druggie.

"There was evidence of an psychtropic derivative found
in Agent Mulder's bloodstream."

"What?" The word exploded from Reggie.

"I've ordered a second set of tests to confirm the
results, but, yes, so far it looks like he managed to
ingest a very nasty substance. I've already looked for
evidence of injections and there doesn't appear to be
any, so I'm assuming it was ingested. I'll go now and
get what I need to bring him around."

Unseen by both men, another man had entered the room.
The doctor brushed by him as he left. Reggie looked up
and finally acknowledged the man.

"Agent Perdue?" The young man asked.

"Yes?" Reggie answered. From the man's suit Reggie
knew the man was an agent.

"I'm Agent Simmons. AD Skinner asked me to come by and
record anything Agent Mulder said." He held up a
micro-cassette recorder and a pad and pencil.

Reggie smiled to himself. CHRIST! Another green one.
He could almost hear Agent Simmons' voice crack with
nervousness.

Reggie nodded toward a chair, giving Simmons a
speculative look. "Have a seat, Agent Simmons. As you
can see were not quite ready, yet."

Simmons nodded once and pulled up a chair to the other
side of the bed, near Mulder's head. "Is it true what
they say?" Simmons asked, "That he was able to tell
them where the kid was?"

Reggie looked at the young agent. "Yes. It's true,"
Reggie said cautiously.

"Whew! He's really that good?"

Reggie studied the young man a moment. "He's really
that good," he stated flatly.

The younger agent studied Mulder. "I read the profile
he drew up on that guy. Do you think that's what sent
Spooky over the edge?"

Reggie sighed heavily. "Agent Simmons?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't call him Spooky. He doesn't like it."

"Yes, sir."

"Have you read the case file, Agent Simmons?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were you there when we found Agent Mulder?" Reggie
couldn't recall seeing him before.

"Yes, sir. It's all anyone has talked about all day."

"Agent Simmons. You will be listening to Mulder's
testimony, if, and when, we manage to get him coherent
enough to talk to us."

"Yes, sir."

"And if you ever talk about this to anyone other than
me or the Assistant Director I'll make sure you spend
the rest of your career with the bureau doing
electronic surveillance. In Alaska. UNDERSTOOD?"

Simmons' eyes grew round and Reggie watched as his
Adam's apple bobbed while he swallowed nervously. "Yes,
sir," he said in a subdued tone.

Secretly, Reggie was happy to see he still had the
ability to inspire fear in the younger agents. Not
that it ever seemed to work on Mulder, who just grinned
lopsidedly at him and chuckled.

A second later Doctor Saunders entered the room,
followed by a nurse. The needle he carried was
injected through Mulder's IV and moments later Mulder
began to moan, his head rolling from side to side.

Reggie smoothed Mulder's hair away from his face and
spoke to him in a low, calm voice. "Mulder, it's me.
Reggie. Can you hear me, Fox? It's Reggie.

Reggie noticed Agent Simmons had clicked on the
recorder and set it near Mulder.

"Come on, Mulder, wake up. It's Reggie. Wake up,
Fox."

Reggie watched as Mulder's lips moved. He had to lean
down to catch the whispered words. When he did, a
smile spread across his face.

"What did he say?" Agent Simmons asked curiously.

"He said, 'Mulder, not Fox.' He hates being called
Fox. "

Reggie glanced up at the doctor. "I guess you didn't
have to worry, Doc. He does know his own name," a
relieved grin on his face.

The doctor returned his smile with a small one of his
own. "Don't over-estimate this, Agent Perdue. We may
not be out of the woods, yet."

The black man nodded soberly before returning his
attention to Mulder. The doctor was right. They still
had a long way to go.

He turned his attention back to Mulder.

"Mulder. Do you know who this is?"

"Reggie?" Mulder's whisper was a little stronger.

"That's right, Mulder. It's me."

"Where am I, Reggie?" Mulder said in a small voice.

"You're in the hospital. Do you remember freaking out
in the bathroom?"

Mulder's eyes narrowed in concentration. "The girl.
The mirror. Through the mirror." His words came fast
now, breathless.

Reggie placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
"It's okay, Mulder. Your safe now." Mulder focused on
Reggie again. "Can you tell me what you saw?"

Mulder was silent a moment, studying Reggie. "There
was a girl. I saw her in the mirror. She wanted me to
help her, but I couldn't get through the glass. There
was someone coming for her. I couldn't see him but I
knew he wanted to hurt her. She kept calling me, but I
couldn't reach her. I couldn't get through. I
couldn't get through." Mulder's voice rose in panic.

Reggie squeezed his shoulder. "It's okay. It's okay,"
he said quickly. The doctor motioned for Reggie's
attention. Reggie looked up.

"If he becomes agitated, I'll have to sedate him
again," Dr. Saunders said.

Reggie nodded impatiently and returned his attention to
Mulder. Mulder was watching the doctor but returned
his attention to Reggie when he heard his name.

"Mulder. We got the child back before our suspect had
a chance to do anything. We need you to tell us what
his next move will be. Do you think you can do that?"
Reggie was watching Mulder's eyes, trying to see if the
wildness would return. But Mulder's hazel eyes were
calm, watching Reggie. He looked tired, older than his
years, as a frown crossed his face.

"I... I'm not sure. I think that's what the girl in
the mirror was trying to tell me." Mulder's voice
trailed off. "I know it sounds crazy, Reg, but I think
the girl was his next victim. We have to stop him
before he gets to her. I... I think he was using the
last girl as a distraction. So he could give himself
enough time to get to the girl in the mirror."

Mulder was becoming agitated again. He pulled at the
wrist restraints and tried to sit up.

Both the doctor and Reggie laid a restraining hand on
his shoulders.

"Whoa. Slow down there, boy. You ain't goin' anywhere
just yet. These nice people here want to talk to you."
Reggie said, indicating the doctor.

Again, Mulder tried to sit up. "We don't have time for
this, Reg. He's out there and I've got to stop him."

Together they pushed him back on the bed again.
"Settle down, Mulder. That's an order," Reggie said in
a stern voice.

Reluctantly Mulder lay back down. He looked at Reggie
earnestly. "I've got to go, Reggie. If you stopped
him this time, it just means the next time will be
worse. We've got to hurry!"

Mulder looked from Reggie to the doctor and back.
"We've got to go," he insisted.

Reggie studied him a moment then looked at the doctor.

"If what he says is true, Doc, then we've got to spring
him."

The Doctor eyed Reggie a moment. "He's delusional,
Agent Perdue," the doctor insisted. "Telling you
someone came to him in a mirror and told him what to
do?
Do you realize how that sounds. And if he loses it
again, Agent Perdue? Are
you willing to take that risk?"

Reggie gave the doctor a dead-eyed stare. "If it means
saving another child's life, then yes, Doctor. It's a
risk I'm willing to take."

"They don't call him Spooky for nothing." A quiet,
unnoticed voice spoke from
beside the bed., and all eyes suddenly focused on young
Agent Simmons who had broken his silence. "Can we
take the chance that he's wrong?" He looked up at both
men.

The doctor looked at Reggie a moment. Finally he said,
"A temporary pass. Released into your custody. YOU
will be responsible for him, Agent Perdue," the doctor
said for emphasis. "If he has another episode like the
last, I'm admitting him for forty-eight hour
involuntary observation."

"Agreed, Doc." Reggie said.

"If you'll just follow me, you can fill out the
paperwork before you leave, and I'll give you a
prescription for antibiotics and pain relievers."

Reggie nodded. The attendants moved to release the
restraints. The nurse quietly disconnected the IV and
removed the butterfly needle.

Mulder sat up and looked at his bandaged hands. "How
bad is this, Reggie?"

"Let's go, Mulder. You'll live."

"Thirty-four stitches." Agent Simmons whispered to
Mulder as he handed him his jacket.

Mulder grinned at him conspiratorially and quickly
finished getting dressed.

Reggie made his way to the door to get the necessary
paperwork done and collect Mulder's prescriptions. He
watched the exchange between the two. "Simmons!"

"Sir?" Simmons squeaked, caught in the act.

"You're with us."

"Yes, sir."
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Mulder had not been happy when Reggie had told him of
Alice Glass' disappearance. Reggie heard him cursing
quietly and muttering under his breath, 'too late, too
late.'

Finally, they arrived at the base of operations.
Mulder insisted he needed to talk to the latest child
to see if there was anything new he could learn.

Reggie stood apart and watched him as he talked to the
little girl, Chrissie Beston. He seemed to have it
together but Reggie wasn't taking any chances. He
wanted to stay close to Mulder. Behind him, unnoticed,
trailed Agent Simmons, looking for all the world like a
lost puppy.

Mulder sat down next to the little girl, watching her
face as he questioned her.
Quietly, he asked her to describe the man. Any marks.
Tattoos. Scars. Did
she see his car. Mulder had managed to get her to talk
about all the 'scary stuff' (as she called it), without
upsetting her. He showed some pictures to the child
and asked her some more questions. He even managed to
get her to giggle once with his gentle teasing. Even
from a distance Reggie could see the child was
responding to Mulder. He did seem to have a knack with
kids. They seemed to like him instantly, the trust
immediate. This wasn't the first time Reggie had
noticed it. He could hear the girl question Mulder
about his hands. Vaguely he heard the words 'Alice in
wonderland' and 'Through the looking glass'. The girl
giggled again at Mulder's joke. Finally Mulder
finished and re-joined Reggie. He looked a little
better than he had in the hospital, but not much.
Still much too pale.

"Were you able to get anything out of her?" Reggie
asked.

Mulder glanced back at the child and nodded.

"A description of the car. Not much of a description
of the man, but what we got coincides. Maybe some
other stuff. Have to check it out first."

Agent Simmons asked, "How'd you do that, Mulder?
Earlier the kid wouldn't talk to anyone. Just sat in
her mother's lap and cried."

Mulder shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. It's a
gift, I guess."

Mulder wasn't looking at either agent. He stood there
talking to them, but his mind was elsewhere. Reggie
frowned, worried again.

Mulder turned abruptly and headed out the door. Reggie
quickly followed him. Mulder stopped when he got
outside, thrusting his hands deep in the pockets of his
overcoat, glancing around a moment before continuing
towards a group of agents that were standing beside the
vehicles, talking.

"Agent Green?" Mulder asked. One of the agents turned
in his direction.

'Oh shit,' Reggie thought to himself. He knew there
was bad blood between Donald Green and Mulder. He had
even thought about taking Green off the case when he
had found that Green and Mulder would be working
together. They had worked together previously and
Green had never forgiven Mulder for solving a case by
using the testimony of a witness that Donald Green had
chosen to ignore.
He had had to separate them once already.

"Agent Green?" Mulder said again.

"Yes?" the man said, a look of venom in his eyes.

"You wrote the report when the Beston girl was found?"

"Yes," the agent replied.

"Did you interview the child's grandmother?"

Agent Green tilted his head curiously. "Yes. Yes, I
did."

"Did she tell you if she ever took the child with her
when she had her hair done?"

Green started to open his mouth, then shut it, a
puzzled look on his face. "I didn't ask her, Agent
Mulder."

"Do you think you could?" Mulder asked after a moment.

"Why? What does that matter?" Agent Green flared,
getting angry over any implication that he had failed
to do his job properly. "Who cares! Who cares if she
did or not?" He moved to get into Mulder's face. "Are
you saying I missed something? I messed up? I can't
handle my job, you nutcase?"

Reggie moved closer behind Mulder, hoping against hope
that Mulder wouldn't lose it again.

But Mulder stood there calmly staring at Agent Green,
letting the other man continue with his tirade. Reggie
could see his eyes moving over the other man's face,
studying him. Mulder's only movement was to pull the
overcoat tighter around him. He reminded Reggie of a
man at sea facing an oncoming storm.

Finally, Donald Green's voice petered out and he was
silent. His face was red and the veins stood out on
his forehead. He looked down at Mulder and realized he
was getting no reaction.

Again Mulder asked, "Do you think you could call and
ask her? Get the name of the place?" he said calmly,
enunciating each word, as if nothing had been said
before.

Green opened his mouth to start up again then shut it
when he looked over Mulder's shoulder and noticed Agent
Perdue for the first time. He licked his lips and
visibly got himself under control.

"Yes. I can call and ask her," he said tightly.

"Thank you." Mulder said, and turning on his heel, he
walked away.

Reggie snagged Mulder by the elbow as he passed,
pulling him to one side. "What was that about?"

"The Beston girl was able to identify photos of the
other victims." Mulder appeared contained before
Reggie.

"How? They didn't go to the same school. Didn't
belong to the same girl scouts. Didn't go to the same
church. They don't even live that close to each
other."

"She'd seen them before." Mulder stated firmly.

"Where?"

"Chrissie said it was where her grandmother had her
hair done. That's why I need Green to double-check and
see if it's true for the others."

"No one else ask her about the other children, did
they?" Reggie studied his face.

"She said they didn't."

"How did you know? How did you know to ask?"

Mulder hesitated. "I... I... Reggie... it was the girl
in the mirror. Something about the way he touched her
hair." Mulder glanced away. The haunted look in his
eyes again. "I don't understand, but what I saw in
that mirror is important. I just don't know why yet."
Mulder looked back up at Reggie. He shrugged his
shoulders, then stared down at his shoes. "Do you
think I'm losing it?" he asked the ground.

Reggie studied the bowed head a moment. Reaching out a
hand he placed it on Mulder's arm. "I don't know what
the answers are yet. God knows, I've seen you do some
remarkable things before. Maybe this is just another
one of them."

Mulder looked up into his face. "I've never had
anything like this happen to me before. I've never
been accused of being psychic. I believe Alice is
trying to warn me, to give me clues, but I can't figure
out what I'm supposed to see."

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

An hour later, Agent Green had returned with
confirmation. Chrissie Beston's grandmother regularly
had her hair done at a boutique called 'Wonderland Hair
Design' on Cheshire Street.

Agents were dispatched with photos of the previous
victims to interview family members, looking for a
connection to the salon. Reggie put in a call to
headquarters for a background check on the salon's
owner.

One by one reports filtered back with positive results.
Previous victims had been sighted at the boutique and
all the victim's families had a connection there.

Mulder sat quiet and thoughtful as reports found their
way back to him. He was chomping at the bit to go out
and do some of the investigating of his own, but Reggie
was keeping him on a tight leash, restricting him to
the premises. Reggie had already dispatched two agents
to interview the owner of the shop, but
they were having some trouble locating her. The
lateness of the hour precluded
an interview at the salon and they were busy tracking
down her place of residence.

Word finally arrived from the two agents that
Wonderland's owner was out of town and would not arrive
back until work the next morning. Now they could only
sit and wait.

Reggie Perdue sent young Simmons out for Chinese food,
ordering Mulder to try to eat. It was nearly midnight
and Reggie was exhausted.

Using his senior agent status, he appropriated an hotel
room. To his dismay it contained only two single beds.
Reggie was bound and determined to keep an eye on
Mulder and he knew to do that he would have to have
help. "Agent Simmons, you're with us." Snagging
Mulder's elbow he steered him to the hotel room. "I'm
not tired yet." Mulder whined, sounding very much like
a child who had been kept up over-long. "You're going
to go to bed, whether you like it or not. There isn't
any more we can do tonight. Simmons, you have the
couch." Wearily Mulder let himself be led to the room
with a sigh. There was no fighting Reggie when he was
in one of his moods. Mulder stripped off his suit
coat, dropping it over a nearby chair, his necktie
crumpled in its pocket. Toeing off his shoes, he
headed for the bed. With one last bone-cracking
stretch, he fell face down on the mattress. Oblivious
to the noises of the others, he was asleep in minutes.
Reggie glanced over at the still form and shook his
head. Mulder never ceased to amaze him. Letting Agent
Simmons use the bathroom first, he prepared himself for
bed. Patting down his pockets, he discovered the
medication Doctor Saunders had given him for Mulder.
Pain medication and antibiotics. 'To be taken before
meals and before bedtime' Reggie read. 'Shit' he
cursed softly.

Agent Simmons exited the bathroom and Reggie went in to
retrieve a glass of water. Opening each bottle and
tapping out the proper dosage he nudged Mulder's
shoulder.

Groggily, Mulder opened his eyes with a grunt. "What?"

"Time to take your medicine, Mulder."

"I don't want it." Mulder fussed.

"Do you want to go back to the hospital so they can
give it to you in an IV?"

Mulder grumbled and sat up, awkwardly taking the pills
and water from him, tossing them back and gulping down
the water until it was gone. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic. Now get out of your clothes and get into
bed. We'll change the bandages in the morning."

Mulder frowned at him. "Yes, Dad!"

Agent Simmons gave a small cough to hide his chuckle.
Reggie glanced over his shoulder at the young agent.
"And you too, SON." Reggie commanded with a grin.

"Yes, Sir." Simmons responded with a salute, spreading
his blankets on the couch before jumping down on it.

Reggie shook his head. "Lord in heaven, now I have two
of them." Lightly punching Mulder in the arm, he said
"You're a bad influence."

"So, I've been told."

Fifteen minutes later, Reggie came out of the bathroom
to find Simmons with the television on, playing softly,
bathing the room in flashing blue light. Simmons
turned it off as Reggie entered the room. Mulder
appeared asleep on his stomach, under the covers, his
arms wrapped around the pillow, his dress shirt and
slacks on the floor beside the bed. Reggie got into
the adjoining bed and snapped off the bedside lamp.

Mulder's disembodied voice reached Reggie in the dark.
"I can't sleep. Talk to me, Reggie."

"About what?"

"Doesn't matter. Anything. Emma's cooking. Cutting
the lawn. Anything. Anything but the case."

Reggie smiled tiredly. "You mean you want a bedtime
story."

"That would be nice. Just so long as it's not about
this case."

Reggie could understand that. Mulder, more than anyone
he had ever known, had a hard time disconnecting from
tough cases. "So do you want 'Goldie Locks' or 'The
Three Little Pigs'?"

Mulder's voice chuckled. "Only if its the X-rated
version of 'Goldie Locks'."

Reggie grinned at that. He was silent a moment, then
asked, "Did I tell you I was writing a book?"

"Really? What about?"

"It's a mystery."

Reggie heard the quick intake of air as Mulder yawned.
"Detective novel?" he asked around the yawn.

"Yeah. Maybe I'll even call my main character Mulder."

"As long as you don't call him Fox. Marty, John, Fred.
Anything but Fox."

Reggie chuckled. "Maybe, I'll just let his secretary
call him Foxy."

"I'll have a secretary? Will this be adult fiction?"

Reggie outright laughed at that. "Don't get your hopes
up. I just may make his secretary a man."

Mulder hunched his shoulders. "Eewww. Don't go there.
Will you let me read it when your done?"

"Maybe, but for now, get some sleep. If I'm too tired,
we'll never finish here and I won't be able to go home
to Emma and finish my 'Great American Novel.' By the
way, I called her earlier tonight. She wants you to
come to dinner. I think she wants to set you up with a
friend of hers."

"Have you met this woman?"

"She didn't tell me who she had in mind. I told her
you weren't fit for polite company, but, and here I
quote, 'you just make sure he gets his skinny white
butt here or I'll have to go to his apartment and drag
him back by his ears.'"

Mulder chuckled at that. "You married a tough woman
there, Reg. You can tell her I would be happy to
accept. Besides, I make it a policy to never
disappoint women. Especially your wife. I know
better. She could hurt me."

"Your telling me! Goodnight, Mulder."

Mulder let go another jaw-stretching yawn. "Good
night, Reggie. And thanks. 'Night, Simmons."

Their only response was a soft snore from the other
side of the room.

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

The morning broke bright and cold. Reggie awoke with
the sun slicing into his eyes through a break in the
curtains. Rolling over he peeked at the bed beside him
before bolting upright. The bed was empty. 'Damn that
man.' Reggie quietly cursed him. Looking around he
saw that Simmons still snored on the couch. He pushed
himself off the bed and stumbled over Mulder's shoes on
his way to the bathroom. Stopping for a moment, he
studied the shoes, trying to put his thoughts in order.
If Mulder wasn't wearing his business shoes, then he
couldn't be far. Hopefully. Passing a hand over his
tired eyes, he yawned and stretched. It was just too
damn early in the morning to be trying to figure out
Mulder. Even after strong coffee and a full breakfast
it was a task. Glancing down at his watch, he noted
the time. Quarter to seven. Stumbling on his way, he
wondered where Mulder had gotten himself off to now.

Twenty minutes later, Reggie was just stepping out of
the shower when Mulder returned. "Where the hell have
you been?"

"Gee, Reg, and I thought you were a detective," Mulder
said with a grin.

Looking at him, Reggie noted the running clothes and
well-worn sneakers. A light sheen of sweat covered his
face, making him glisten in the early morning light.
"You could have left a note."

"Sorry, mom." Mulder brought a foot up on the end of
his bed and began to untie his tennis shoes using the
tips of his fingers, the only part that peeked out from
the bandages.

"Very funny. Not like you didn't spend most of
yesterday in the hospital, you know."

"Yeah, well, not 'cause I was ill. Physically anyway."

"That may not be true. Doctor Saunders told me
yesterday that you had evidence of drugs in your
system. Nasty drugs to hear him tell it."

At that, Mulder's head came up. "Why didn't you tell
me this yesterday."

"We were a little busy yesterday. Why?"

Mulder looked thoughtful for a moment. "You think it
could be connected to the case?"

"You think so? Someone targeting you? Your not
getting paranoid on me now, are you?"

Mulder shook himself. "Probably. But something sure
feels funny. What if their trying to throw me off the
scent."

"I already have a couple of agents tracing your
movements the day before yesterday. Doctor Saunders
said you might have ingested it so I'll need a list of
places you ate at on that day."

Mulder nodded before heading for the shower. "Are you
going to make me stick around here today, too?"

"No. I think I'll let you off your leash today. But I
want Simmons to stick with you, so don't even think of
trying to ditch him."

Mulder gave him a mock salute before closing the door.
A second later Reggie was knocking at the bathroom
door. Mulder opened it up and peeked out. "YES?" he
asked archly. Reggie held out two rubber gloves.

"What are these for? This ain't no crime scene and you
ain't my proctologist." Mulder looked puzzled. "And I
refuse to call you nurse."

Reggie dropped them in his hand. "Put them on before
you get in the shower. You're not supposed to get your
stitches wet and I refuse to wash your back for you."

Mulder grinned. "Do you think I could get Emma to come
and do it for me?"

Reggie snorted. "She'll scrub the white right off your
scrawny hide. That woman could scrub the white off of
rice."

Mulder left Reggie chuckling as he closed the door and
yelled from behind the closed panel, "Call her up!
Call her up!"

Shaking his head, he walked over to the couch and shook
Simmons by the shoulder.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." Simmons groaned and
pulled the pillow over
his head. "Wake up, wake up, wake up."

Simmons groaned again and sat up. "Do you have to be
so cheerful, so early?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Reggie fought down a grin, his dark eyes dancing in
merriment. "I'm a morning person. So shoot me."

Simmons gave a squinty look around the room. "Where's
my gun?"

"Your up next for the shower. Mulder's in there now."

"Thanks. That should give me at least fifteen more
minutes," he said, flopping back down on the couch.

By the time Simmons had showered, Mulder, bandages
changed, had compiled a list of places he had eaten the
day of his 'outburst.' Reggie took the list in hand to
pass along to the agents he had assigned to track
Mulder's movements that day. They were headed out the
door when the phone stopped them. Reggie picked it up
only to find Walter Skinner at the other end. Quickly
briefing his boss on what they had learned so far,
including Mulder's possible poisoning, before he
outlined their plans for the day. He promised to fax
the doctor's results when they were received.

Skinner passed along the background check on
Wonderland's owner: Doris Fredrickson, divorced, one
child, had owned the boutique for the last fifteen
years. No prison record, no arrests, no warrants.
Even her taxes were in order. The woman was clean.

"Thank you, sir," Reggie said into the phone.

"No problem, Agent Perdue. If you need anything, just
give me a call."

"Will do, sir."

"And, Reggie?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Keep an eye on Mulder. His HMO is starting to scream
again."

At that, Reggie chuckled. "I'll try to do my best,
sir; but, you know how he can be."

"I've read the reports. Good luck, Agent Perdue,"
Skinner said before hanging up.

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Arriving back at their base of operations, Reggie began
to coordinate the team for that day's events. Mulder
was antsy, eager to be out of Reggie's watchful eye for
a few hours. With a heavy sigh, Reggie assigned Mulder
and Simmons to talk to Doris Fredrickson. The hour was
getting late and she should be arriving at her place of
business soon, so the two agents confiscated a car and
headed downtown.

Reggie had insisted that Simmons do all the driving,
not that Mulder could with his hands still bandaged,
but Reggie made a point of saying it nonetheless.
'Mother hen,' Mulder thought as he relaxed against the
seat, watching the shadows shorten into the morning.
It was Simmons who noticed they were low on gas and
pulled into a station a few blocks from the salon.

'Joe's Garage' the sign above the service bay proudly
declared. While Agent Simmons filled the tank, Mulder
got out of the sedan and hunted down the candy machine
for some breakfast. Wandering around the station,
Mulder nibbled on the candy bar his coins had
purchased. Something was tickling at the back of his
thoughts and he let his mind wander to follow its
crooked path.

Something about the place was triggering a reaction
from him. Mulder meandered around, entering the
service bay, studying, searching, trying to put the
pieces together. Nearly stepping in a puddle of oil,
he withdrew his raised foot. One of the sites had
carried a similar stain. Frowning in concentration,
his eyes unfocused, lost in the puzzle, he continued
around the bay. Suddenly, he saw a mechanic round the
corner and lock eyes with him. Chrissie had described
the man as wearing a uniform. Seeing the mechanic,
dressed in cover-alls, his mind connected a piece of
the puzzle. But something about this mechanic was
registering wrong. The man had froze at the sight of
Mulder, his eyes growing wide in recognition. Mulder
noted the features, long blond hair, uniform, build
like a line-backer. Chrissie's description.

Just as his own eyebrows raised in recognition, the
mechanic turned and fled the other way. Mulder gave
chase, drawing his weapon, calling out to Simmons as he
did. Rounding a corner into a breezeway, Mulder felt a
grasp on his arm, pulling him off-balance. The suspect
grabbed him and throwing a shoulder into Mulder's
chest, pinned him to the wall. Mulder felt the
mechanic's hands cover his own, not attempting to
remove the gun from his grasp, but squeezing his
fingers into the grip. Mulder cried out as stitches
began to tear in the tender flesh of his palm.
Instinctively he tried to open his hand and release the
offending object, but the other's hands crushed his
fingers around the weapon.

Both men looked up as Simmons flew around the corner.
The suspect tightened his grasp over Mulder's until the
gun exploded with an impossibly loud retort, echoing in
the breezeway. Simmons' body hit the pavement a moment
later, shuddering to a stop. Mulder attempted to jerk
his hand away, but the other man's grip was impossible
to break. The blond let go with his left hand and
thrust his elbow backwards, hitting Mulder square in
the jaw, even as he tried to turn away. While Mulder
blinked to clear his vision, he missed seeing the elbow
coming again until he felt the impact. His head
snapped back, thudding into the cinderblock wall,
before he slid, unconscious, to the ground.

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Reggie sat in the borrowed office of the local police
station and cursed all constabulary coffee. This stuff
should have a toxic warning on the side. He put the
styrofoam cup away from him in disgust.

Suddenly, Agent Green appeared in the doorway, huffing
out of breath. "Agent Perdue!"

"What is it, Green."

"Someone called from the front desk. There's been a
shooting on Cheshire Street. Officer down."

Reggie felt his stomach clench, the coffee turning to
stone. "Do they know who it is?"

"It's Agent Simmons, sir. He's in an ambulance on his
way to the hospital."

"And Mulder?"

"No word."

"Shit! Green, get the car. I want to go to that
goddamn hair salon."

"It didn't go down there, sir. It happened a few
blocks away. A 'Joe's Garage'."

Reggie was scooping up his coat as he made for the
door. "Then drive me there. Send Douglas and Jackson
down to 'Wonderland' and see if Mulder and Simmons ever
made it there."

Agent Green acknowledged him as he raced ahead of him,
snapping orders to the other agents.

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Mulder awoke to find himself lying on his stomach,
hands bound behind his back. Both his wrists and feet
were securely wrapped in duct tape. 'Quack quack,'
Mulder thought to himself as he remembered an old radio
program's joke. Another piece of the gray tape secured
his mouth. Lying on greasy cement, he had a few more
bruises than he remembered acquiring. His ribs ached
with every breath, his hands damp with the blood that
had soaked through his bandages. His fingers felt
numb. Thank god for small favors.

Lifting his head he tried to get an idea of where he
was. Possibly an old garage or an abandoned warehouse
from the looks of things. The minute he lifted his
head someone grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked
his head backwards until his neck was stretched, his
throat exposed. The sharp pain of a knee landing in
the middle of his back, followed by a heavy weight,
forced the air out of his lungs. As he struggled to
take a breath, a voice whispered next to his ear,
"Sonofabitch, I can't believe you found me."

A harder yank on his hair made Mulder cry out from
behind the gag, then forced his head forward until it
impacted with the cold concrete beneath him. Mulder
felt a spot above his left eyebrow open up and warm
blood spilled down to blind his already star-filled
eyes. A whimper escape him and the fist in his hair
forced his head up again, the voice hissing into his
ear. He wiggled to escape, but the knee in his back
only pressed down harder, digging into his spine. "I
told that bitch we should have given you enough of that
stuff to kill you. But, no. That wasn't part of the
plan. 'We could get into trouble messing with a cop,'
she says. 'Too dangerous,' she says." The voice
released his hold on Mulder and he collapsed back onto
the cement.

"Stupid bitch," the voice muttered as the man levered
himself up heavily. Mulder sighed with relief before
the aches returned. He realized where the line-backer
had fisted his hair was right where he had smacked his
head against the wall during the fight. Ouch. Even his
scalp ached.

"Sonofabitch," the blond muttered again as his foot
lashed out and connected with Mulder's ribs. Mulder
groaned and curled his body into a ball, doing his best
to protect his stomach and ribs from further injury.
"You've gone and fucked everything up." The mechanic
kicked out again, this time landing a blow on Mulder's
shoulder. Mulder yelped behind the gag and attempted
to schooch away.

"What the hell!" Mulder heard a feminine voice
exclaim.

He turned his head to the voice and, blinking the blood
from his eyes, he saw a petite woman standing at the
entrance of the building.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Mulder recognized
the woman and tried to place where he had seen her
before.

"He found me," the blond said simply.

"How?" The anger radiated from the petite form.

"I don't know. Him and another guy showed up at the
garage."

"Damn it, Jack. How did he find you?"

"I... I don't know." The blond man seemed to quell
before her anger.

The woman stomped over to Mulder. "The least you could
have done was to blindfold him. And now he's seen us
both," she hissed in disgust. "Turn him over and take
off the gag."

The big man followed her and rolled Mulder over onto
his back. Digging a dirty finger into his cheek he
managed to catch the edge of the duct tape and yanked
it away. Mulder hissed with pain, sure he could see
his skin and lips come away with the adhesive.

The woman squatted down next to him and, taking out a
crumpled tissue from her pocket, she gently wiped away
the blood from his eyes. "So, how did you find us,
G-man?" she asked curiously.

Mulder swallowed convulsively, trying to get his voice
working again. "I didn't," he whispered. "I chased
him," Mulder indicated the blond man with his chin,
"When he started to run."

The woman examined him a moment, looking for the lie.
"Shit," she spat. Looking over her shoulder at the
blond. "You panicked, you idiot. Now you've messed up
everything."

"It wasn't my fault. He started chasing me," the big
man whined.

The room was silent a moment before Mulder quietly
said, "I remember you from the restaurant across the
street from the police station. You were our waitress.
Jenny, right?" Mulder's brain was finally kicking in,
remembering the nametag on her uniform.

"I wondered how long it would take you to remember."

"It was you who poisoned me, wasn't it? Why?" Mulder
asked in a puzzled voice.

"Working there is a great way to keep tabs on things.
Those officers do like to impress a gal. I heard them
talking about you." She studied him a moment. "I knew
the rest of those knuckle-heads would never figure out
what was going on, but you... you were a danger to the
plan."

"The plan? Just what was the plan?" Mulder demanded,
"What possible reason could you have for killing those
kids?

The woman gave him a feral smile. "The oldest reason
in the world. Greed."

"Money? Someone's paying you?" Mulder asked in
disbelief.

"Insurance money, Agent Mulder. I've got a policy out
on each one of those kids. And who's going to question
the payout when even the FBI is looking for a serial
killer." The woman smiled in triumph. Mulder felt a
shudder run through him. Standing up, Jenny brushed
non-existent dust from her slacks. "You want to see my
million-dollar baby, Mr. Mulder. We've still got
little Alice. Bring him along!" she commanded her
companion.

The blond man grabbed a handful of Mulder's shirt
front, pulling him upright, before lifting him over his
shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Mulder nearly screamed as feeling poured into his
bloodless arms. A moment later he squeezed his eyes
shut as his view swam under him, the blood rushing to
his head.

The couple carried him into an adjoining storage room.
Mulder and the blond waited as the small woman unlocked
the door. Flipping on the overhead light, they entered
the room. None-too-gently, Mulder was placed on the
floor. Looking around him, he saw the terrified form
of Alice Glass huddled in a corner.

"Are you okay?" Mulder asked the terrified child. The
girl began to cry.

"Shut up, brat," the big man snapped at her.

"Leave her alone, Jack." Walking over to the child,
the woman reached out a hand and caressed her hair.
"This, Agent Mulder, is my million-dollar baby. When
the insurance pays off on this one, Jack and I are
gone. No one will ever find us. But, we have to wait
awhile. It's not time yet for your local serial killer
to complete his task. Got to stick to the schedule.
Though you throw a bit of a wrench into the works."

"Are you going to keep me here?"

"For the time being. Enjoy yourself."

The couple approached the door. "Wait!" Mulder called.

The woman turned back to him. "Yes?"

"Please. Untie my hands. I can't even feel my arms
anymore."

Glancing up at the big man beside her, she asked, "Do
you still have his handcuffs?"

Jack produced them from a back pocket. "Right here."

"You've emptied his pockets, right." The man nodded,
indicating he had. "Cut the tape and put them on him.
At least he can keep the kid quiet."

Mulder almost cried with relief as the pressure on his
arms was released. Jack quickly snapped the cuffs over
Mulder's wrists. Watching from the doorway, the woman
asked, "How did you do that?" indicating his bandaged
hands.

"Accident. I broke a mirror," Mulder said, looking in
Alice's direction. But Alice gave no indication that
she knew what he was talking about.

"Seven years bad luck, Agent Mulder," Jenny laughed as
the door clanged shut behind them, sounding like a
death knell. He heard the bolt slid home as he and
Alice were firmly locked in.

"Are you okay?" he asked again.

"Yes," the tiny girl sniffled.

Mulder sat up and tried to find the edge of the tape to
release his feet, his bloody hands making the process
nearly impossible.

Alice left her spot against the wall and came to sit
silently at his feet.

Mulder looked up at her. "Do you think you could find
the end. I can't seem to grab it."

Alice wiped away the blood smears with her tiny hands
and pinched the end of the tape with her fingers,
tearing it away. Quietly she worked the tape away from
his ankles.

Mulder took the time to study the girl. She appeared
unharmed. When she had finished, he stretched out his
long legs on either side of her, sighing with relief.
He wiped the tips of his fingers on his pants and held
them out to the child.

"Fox Mulder," he introduced himself. Alice looked into
his eyes before solemnly taking his fingers with her
own. "You can call me, Fox."

"Alice. Alice Glass," she said. "Are you a
policeman?"

"I'm with the FBI. We've been looking for you."

"Have you seen my dad?" she asked anxiously. Mulder
remembered reading that Alice's mother had died a
couple of years earlier. Alice was being raised by her
single father.

Mulder shook his head. "No. But I know that he's
worried about you. Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"No. But you are," Alice said, turning over his larger
hands in her tiny ones. Mulder winced a little as the
handcuffs chaffed his wrist. She bent to examine the
bloody bandages wrapping his hands as Mulder smiled
down at her.

"Going to be a doctor when you grow up?"

Alice glanced up with a grin spreading over her face.
"That's what I've always wanted to be. That's what my
mama was."

Mulder returned her smile. "Looks like you'd be good
at it."

"Do you think they'll be able to find us?"

"I hope so, Alice. I hope so."

Alice nodded and released his hand. It wasn't in
Mulder's nature to talk down to children and he could
be quietly attentive when the moment called for it.
Many agents tended to be too brusque with older folks
and children, not giving them the gentle prodding that
Mulder could. Being patient, waiting for them to
reveal themselves in their own time. Some of his best
leads came from senior citizens and children.

"Papa says mama is an angel in heaven and she looks out
for me. We're going to be okay."

Mulder had no idea how to respond to the girl. "Are
you cold, Alice?"

Alice rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms. "A
little."

Mulder moved to stand up, Alice beside him. Stretching
the kinks out as much as he could with his bound hands,
he padded around their cell, looking for an escape.
Alice trailed behind him.

The only opening was the door, a heavy steel panel
barring their way. No handle was evident from inside.
Fresh air found it's way in from the inch gap at the
bottom of the door. The light came from a single bulb
attached to the ceiling. Ten feet above their heads.
The rest was cinderblock walls. No way out. Not
unless he turned into Spiderman.

"Wish we had a baseball and a bat," Mulder muttered.

Alice looked at him curiously. "Why? What could you
do with that."

Mulder pushed at the door. "You know. Three strikes,
you're out," he said with a grin.

Mulder was delighted to hear the girl giggle. She
shook her head. "I don't think baseball is going to
get us out of here."

"No. I suppose not. Do you play little-league?"

"Pee-wee baseball."

"What position?"

"They move us around alot. I like being pitcher. I'm
good at it," she said proudly.

"I'll bet you are. Any no-hitters?"

"In pee-wee ball? They're all no hitters."

Mulder grinned at that. He pulled back a sleeve and
glanced at his watch. Almost two in the afternoon.
"When do they feed you around here?"

"Usually by now. They missed lunch."

As if in answer to their words, they heard the deadbolt
draw back. The door swung open and Jenny stood there.
In her hands she held Mulder's pistol. Jack stood
beside her.

"Step away, Mr. Mulder. Against the wall. I wouldn't
want to have to use this."

Mulder and Alice backed up until they were against the
far wall. Mulder pushed Alice behind him, shielding
her small body with his own. Jack tossed in a white
paper sack. It landed at Mulder's feet, wrapped
burgers and fries spilling out.
Beside the entrance he gingerly placed another bag,
before standing up and
pushing a bucket in with his foot. Inside sat a roll
of toilet paper.

"Dinner and a potty break," sneered the woman, "What
more could you ask for." With that, she shut the door
with her foot and turned the lock.

"Can't say much for the service in this place," Mulder
said, "Lets see how good the food is." Mulder bent
down to retrieve the bag, looking in as he stood up.
"At least its still warm." Mulder handed the bag to
the child and went to inspect the one by the door.
"Drinks, too!" he called out to Alice.

Together they brought the food to the far corner of the
cell. Sitting beside each other, they distributed it
out. The first burger seemed to disappear in a frenzy.
Mulder had missed breakfast and this was Alice's only
meal of the day.

Finishing up, they held a couple of burgers out for
their dinner. The two spent the rest of the day trying
to amuse each other, Mulder doing his best to distract
the child. He prayed Reggie would find them soon,
afraid that Alice did not have much time left. He knew
the pattern and what to expect. Their present
circumstance didn't give him much hope.
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Reggie arrived at Joe's Garage with a grim look on his
face. Simmons had been taken away by ambulance long
ago.

The crime scene technicians were swarming over the
place. Agent Green pointed out evidence of a struggle
and the spots of blood on the cement floor and wall
where Mulder's head had impacted.

"Was Simmons able to tell them anything?" Reggie asked.

"A little. Just before he went into surgery. He saw a
mechanic struggling with Mulder before he was shot and
one of the mechanics is missing." Green checked his
notes, "A Jack Carson. Hasn't been seen or heard from
since the incident. His vehicle is missing, too. An
APB has been placed on both."

"Get his home address from the owner and send someone
down there. Have you already done a background check
on this guy?"

"Already in the works. We should be hearing back
soon."

Reggie sighed. "Any news on Simmons yet?"

"Still in surgery."

"Damn it," Reggie swore vehemently, "What the hell
happened here?" Wearily he sighed. "Did Douglas and
Jackson talk to Doris Fredrickson?"

"Yes, sir. She acknowledges knowing the families of
the victims but doesn't know how it's connected to with
the shop. She gave us a list of employees and we're
having that checked out."

"Get someone out to Carson's. Stake the place out and
talk to the neighbors. Let's get a work history from
the owner. I want to check out any absents against the
days of the murders. The guy may not be involved but
I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Yes, sir." Green trotted off to delegate the job
while Reggie studied the crime scene. As he came
around the building he spotted the car Mulder and
Simmons were using. Opening the driver's door he
turned the key to its first mark, making the electrical
system kick in. Sure enough, the needle on the gas
gauge was in the red. Reggie shook his head. Could
they have simply walked into a gas station robbery?
With Mulder's luck, certainly; but... something didn't
feel right. Somehow this was connected. Otherwise,
where was Mulder? Where was the mechanic?

Reggie turned the car off and got out. He continued to
wander around the station. In the service bay he
discovered a half-eaten candy bar, carelessly dropped
in a small puddle of oil. Payday. Mulder's favorite
when he wasn't munching on those god-awful sunflower
seeds. Reggie stood there a moment, looking around.
If Mulder had stood here, he could not have seen a
robbery in progress. He might have seen someone coming
around the corner and followed them. The mechanic?
The man was missing. Somewhere deep in his bones
Reggie was sure Jack Carson was connected. But how?
And how to prove it?

Reggie stood thoughtful for a moment. "Agent Green,"
he called out. "We have a picture of this Jack
Carson?"

Agent Green produced a photocopy of Carson's license.
"There has to be a connection between this," he waved
his hand to indicate the crime scene, "And that
boutique. Mulder was sure that place was connected
somehow. Someone could have been stalking the
customers or someone connected to the shop is involved.
Let's show it to the owner and see what she says.
It's possible they just walked into a robbery, but I
want to know for sure."

"Yes, sir," Green answered as he headed toward their
car.

"Let's go see Doris Fredrickson."

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Mulder now knew just about all he ever wanted to about
camp songs. Alice began to teach him another. 'Hurry,
Reggie. Be here soon,' he prayed.
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Reggie Perdue and Donald Green arrived at 'Wonderland
Hair Design' within minutes. They introduced
themselves to Doris Fredrickson. Reggie stepped back
and let Green handle the interview. Green produced the
picture and proceeded to ask her about it.

"That's Jack Carson," Doris confirmed.

"How do you know him, ma'am?"

"He's my daughter's boyfriend."

"Does she work here? Do you think we could talk to
her?"

"Well, sometimes she helps out but she has a job over
on Lincoln street."

"Could you tell us her name."

"Yes, it's Jenny. Jenny Thompson."

"Do you think you could give us her address and phone
number? We'd like to speak to her."

"Sure, no problem. Has Jack done something?"

"He may be a witness to a crime."

Doris rummaged around for a paper and pencil, jotting
down her daughter's address and number. "Those other
gentlemen already asked me about those poor children.
Is this connected to that?"

"We're not sure yet."

"My daughter may not be home yet. She may still be at
work."

"Where does she work, ma'am?"

"She waitresses at a coffee shop across from the police
station. 'The Thin Blue Line Cafe'."

Reggie's jaw almost dropped and he caught Agent Green's
eye. "Thank you, ma'am," both men said before they
exited.

Once outside, Green turned to Reggie. "What is it?"

"The restaurant. It's on Mulder's list of places he
ate the day he was poisoned. I think we need to talk
to Jenny Thompson."

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Reggie and Green arrived at the 'Thin Blue Line Cafe'
to discover that Jenny Thompson had not been scheduled
to work that day. They talked to the owner and asked
him for employee records. The owner, Al Wystead,
turned out to be an ex-cop, injured in the line of
duty. He gladly opened his office to them. It didn't
take long to establish that Ms. Thompson was absent
from work on each day of the murders. When the picture
of Jack was produced, the owner quickly verified that
he was Jenny's boyfriend, Jack Carson. Agent Green put
out an APB for Jenny Thompson as Reggie sent agents to
both their homes to stake them out and talk to the
neighbors. DMV records were searched to see if the
woman owned a car and an APB was placed on that as
well. Now all they needed to do was find Mulder.
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

At nine o'clock the lights went out. One of their
captors had turned it off from the switch outside the
door. They huddled together in a corner. Mulder lay
on his back, inspecting the ceiling, his head pillowed
on the roll of toilet paper. Alice slept next to him,
her small form a nestled warmth at his side. He
drifted off at last, only to awaken with a jerk. A
dream of losing another little girl pulled him back
from peaceful slumber. Looking down, he saw that Alice
had climbed into his coat with him to keep warm, her
tiny hand clutching his shirt in her sleep. A trace of
a smile crossed his features as he stared at her. Her
inner strength had impressed him from the moment he
spoke to her. Such a solemn child. How he had come to
see her in the mirror, he had no idea. She certainly
didn't seem to recognize him.

His head hurt, his ribs ached, his hands had swollen up
and the cuffs were cutting into his wrists. Reggie was
going to kill him when he found him. If... he found
him. Reggie would find him. They both knew better
than to disappoint Emma. He had to keep telling
himself that. They will come. They will come.
Believe... Believe. Slowly he drifted off to sleep,
again.
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

It was after midnight and Reggie's tired eyes ached.
Damn that Mulder. Stop for gas and get hijacked by a
serial killer. Mulder luck. Dumb fucking Mulder luck.
The stuff ought to be bottled and sold as a curse.
'Give it to your enemies,' he could hear the sideshow
man hawking it like snake oil. Granted the man was
brilliant, insightful, and right, ninety percent of the
time, but, damn, he knew how to step in it.

Reggie nearly jumped when the phone beside him rang.
Snatching it off its cradle, he nearly yelled a
'Perdue' into the mouthpiece.

"Agent Perdue. I just called to get an update." It
was Walter Skinner.

"Sorry, sir. Not alot yet. We found Carson's car.
Apparently abandoned. The team has gone over it.
Traces of Mulder's blood type were found in the back
seat. I have men staking it out in case he comes back.
No sign of Jenny Thompson or Carson. Neither has
returned to their residences or to their workplaces.
Something interesting though. Jenny Thompson's bank
account has been growing by leaps and bounds lately. I
have agents talking to the bank, tracing the source of
the money."

"No family reported paying ransom?"

"No, sir."

"You think someone could be paying her?"

"It may be easier than that. It could be insurance
money. I have feelers out on local insurance
companies. No call-backs yet." Reggie rubbed his
tired eyes.

"Any word on Mulder yet?"

"Not a one. It's like the earth opened up and
swallowed him whole. I think I have a division out
there searching for him by now. Something's bound to
break."

"Damn. I got the copy of his doctor's report and spoke
to some of our experts here. From what they tell me,
his reaction to the substance was pretty light. They
tell me it could have been alot more dramatic."

"MORE DRAMATIC! Hell's bells, sir, we were peeling him
off the walls as it was." Reggie sighed heavily. "I'd
hate to see what they called a dramatic reaction."

Skinner was quiet a moment. "Apparently it usually
results in a dead body. Or two. If you're lucky.
Sometimes the patient has to be permanently
institutionalized."

"Shit." Reggie said quietly. "Count our blessings, I
suppose."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Are there going to be any side effects that I need to
warn the men about, sir?"

"No. Apparently if you survive the initial trauma
without physiological damage, the rest of the effects
are transitory."

Reggie snorted in disgust. "Where the hell did they
get something like that?"

"Do you want to know the street value?"

"No," Reggie said in resignation. Reggie was quiet a
moment, thinking. "How come you're still up, sir?"

Perdue could almost see the tired smile over the phone.
"I wanted to see if you found our boy yet. That and I
wanted to know how you were holding up."

"I'm okay. Just tired. Frustrated." There was a
pause on the line. "And I'm going to kill him when I
find him."

Skinner chuckled. "Find him first. Any word on
Simmons?"

"Came through surgery just fine. I'm going to see him
tomorrow. See if he can tell us anything more."
Reggie shook his head tiredly. "I never should have
sent a rookie out with Mulder."

"You couldn't have known." Skinner needed to stop the
self-recriminations before they started. "You know how
Mulder is, he's a magnet for trouble. Some people are
high maintenance and Mulder... he's higher
maintenance."

Reggie snorted at that. "Ain't that the truth."

"Go to bed, Reggie. Get a fresh start in the morning."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Goodnight, Reggie." Perdue heard the phone click as
Skinner hung up.

Reggie stood up with a stretch. Passing the front
desk, he made sure they had his cellular phone number
and his hotel number. "If anything comes in..." he
started.

"We know, sir. We'll call you if we hear of anything,"
the desk sergeant assured him. "Goodnight, sir."

Reggie barely made it to the hotel room before he
collapsed into bed. He lay there, staring at the
ceiling, unable to sleep. Finally, he reached for the
phone, dialing a familiar number.

"Emma?" he said, when the line had been answered. The
sound of her voice calmed him, like a fresh spring
flowing over his soul. Quietly he told her what was
going on and guaranteed her that he would make sure
Mulder made it to the invited dinner. He would get him
back. Emma's soft voice reassured him and she didn't
really mind when he drifted off to sleep, the phone
still clutched in his hands. She continued to speak to
him until she heard his soft snores, then gently hung
up the phone.
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Mulder drifted slowly back to consciousness. 'Must be
daylight already' he thought to himself. He could feel
the warmth of the light and its brightness showed red
behind his closed eyelids.

Opening his eyes he looked past Alice and saw a woman.
It wasn't Jenny or anyone else he knew. She appeared
to glow with an inner light, her radiance lighting up
the room. Mulder stared harder. He could see through
her! He could clearly see the far wall and the outline
of the door through her translucent body.

In startled suprise, he tried to sit up, but she raised
a restraining hand and he lay back down. That blow to
his head must be worse than he thought. The woman gave
him a gentle smile.

"You found my Alice," she said at last.

"W...w...who... who are you?" he stuttered.

"Alice's mother."

Mulder shook his head. "Alice's mother is dead."

"Yes," she replied simply.

"But how?"

"I knew you believed. So, I sent you a message. To
save my Alice." The woman looked fondly at the
sleeping child.

"That was you? How... how did you do that? I'm not
psychic."

"When these people drugged you, your resistance to
receiving my message was lowered. And you believed.
It made it possible for me to reach you."

Mulder studied the apparition a moment. "I don't
suppose you can open the door for us."

Carol Glass gave him a tiny smile. "I'm sorry. I will
be watching over you. I'll do whatever I can, but I
have no mastery over the physical plane. Take care of
my Alice."

And with that the light seemed to dim and Alice's
mother disappeared. 'Reggie is never going to believe
this,' Mulder thought.

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

The next morning Reggie awoke with a start. Sitting
up, he rubbed the side of his head, which held an
impression of the phone he had found still clutched in
his hand. He smiled to himself at the memory of Emma's
voice calming his frazzled nerves the night before.
God, what would he do without her.

Pressing the buttons on the phone he dialed the
station. A quick conversation with the desk sergeant
confirmed no new developments. Reggie thanked the
woman and hung up.

Getting up he stretched and headed for the bathroom.
An hour later he was headed to the hospital.

Stopping at the nurses station, he ascertained Agent
Simmons' condition. Simmons was stable. Yes, he could
receive visitors. Yes, he was awake. In fact, he was
just having his breakfast.

Reggie headed into the room. The young agent was
propped up in bed, looking pale and sore. His shoulder
was bandaged and he was managing to feed himself with
one hand while the other arm was strapped to his side,
an IV still attached to the back of his hand. He
looked up as Reggie entered and nodded a 'Good Morning'
to him.

"How're you feeling this morning, Simmons?"

"Better, sir."

"Well enough to tell me what happened?"

Simmons nodded and proceeded to fill him in. He
described discovering they were low on gas and stopping
at the station. Mulder had gone to hit the candy
machine while Simmons had filled up the tank. He had
heard Mulder shout from the service bay and had raced
around the corner, saw Mulder struggling with a
mechanic, before the weapon had discharged and he had
been hit. He had come back to himself to find the
station owner standing over him. Simmons had no idea
where Mulder had gone.

Reggie held up the photocopy of Jack Carson. "Is this
the man you saw?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any idea what happened to Mulder?"

"No, sir. I do know they were struggling for Mulder's
gun, but with his hands the way they were..." Simmons
held out his hand expressively. "I was shot with Agent
Mulder's gun, sir."

"Anything else, Simmons?"

"I vaguely remember Mulder crying out and a car
starting a little after that, then nothing."

"Thank you, Simmons." Reggie rose from the chair.

"Sir, have they found him yet?"

"Not yet, son. But we will."

"Yes, sir."

"Get some rest now. I'll keep you updated."

"Thank you, sir."

"And, Simmons?"

Simmons looked up. "Sir?"

"What the hell is your first name?"

Simmons grinned, the boyish smile lighting up his face.
"Harold, sir. Everyone calls me Harry."

"Get some rest, Harry."

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

It was ten o'clock before Reggie made it back to the
precinct. He had just sat down when Donald Green
walked through the door, a pile of messages in one hand
and a cup of coffee in the other. Handing Reggie the
coffee, he informed him of the latest developments.

"The insurance database turned up something. Each of
the victims had a policy drawn up in their names. I
sent agents out to talk to the insurance brokers and it
looks like they were not paid out to the same name.
Different names, different brokers, different
companies. Each policy has a different receiver's name
on it, but the brokers' descriptions match the Thompson
woman. She claimed she was using the policies for a
future school fund for the kids. She also claimed to
be related to each child. An aunt in most instances.
The only one without a policy was Chrissie Beston.
Someone may have just screwed up and nabbed the wrong
kid by mistake."

"Damn," Reggie swore softly, looking over the
documents. "The payout amounts match the leaps in
Thompson's bank account?"

"Exactly, sir."

The phone rang, interrupting them. "Perdue."

It was the sergeant at the front desk. "Agent Perdue,
we just got a report from one of our patrol cars.
Seems they may have found Jenny Thompson's car."

"Where?"

"Outside an abandoned warehouse. Fifth and Elm. I
have the officers keeping an eye on it until you
arrive."

"We're on our way." Reggie turned to Green, spouting
orders a mile a minute. Five minutes later they were
headed for Fifth and Elm.
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Perdue and Green arrived at the site fifteen minutes
later, their car skidding to a halt. Within ten
minutes the place was surrounded and a swat team
strategically placed. The faded sign on the side of
the warehouse read, 'Mirror Image Storage Facility.'

Reggie sat in the swat van listening to Frank Robbins,
the team leader, co-ordinate the squad. Men in black
flak jackets moved about purposefully. Reggie felt
helpless, needing to take a backseat to other
expertise.

"Team one to team leader. Sighting confirmed. A man
and a woman moving about in the warehouse.

"Roger that, team one."

Turning to Reggie the team leader said, "That's
confirmation, Agent Perdue. Your suspects are inside."

"Any sign of Agent Mulder or the child?"

"Not yet, sir, but the blueprints describe several
storage rooms. They may be located in one of them."

Reggie nodded his agreement. Inside he just prayed
they were both still alive. "Is your team set yet?"

"Yes, sir. Set and ready to go, on your word."

"Then it's a go."
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Inside the darkened room, Mulder awoke to the sound of
the door unlocking. He struggled to sit up, but Alice
was faster and slipped out from inside his jacket
before clutching his arm in her small hands. Mulder
knew the time table. Today was the day they would kill
Alice.

"Alice!" Mulder whispered urgently to the little girl.
"If I tell you to run, run for the nearest door. Just
as fast as you can, okay?"

Alice acknowledged him with a swift nod of her head
before the door swung open.

In the doorway stood Jenny and Jack. "Rise and shine,
my dears," Jenny called out. Jack stood beside her,
pointing the gun in their direction.

Jack stepped in and pulled Mulder to his feet, turning
him around until he could wrap one meaty arm around
Mulder's throat. Mulder's hands flew to Jack's
forearm, insuring that Jack wasn't trying to choke him.
But Jack just held him loosely before he gently tapped
the barrel of the gun against Mulder's temple.

"You're not gonna give us any problems this morning,
are you?"

Mulder swallowed nervously but stayed silent. Jack
used his arm to knock Mulder's chin up, then placed his
lips close to Mulder's ear and softly said, "That's a
good boy."

Mulder cringed away from the hot breath and he heard
Jack chuckle behind him.

"Move out!" Jenny ordered, leading the others out of
the room.

Mulder studied the situation. The only gun apparent
was the one that Jack held.
If he could distract Jack long enough, Alice might get
away. Jenny was ahead
of them, Alice behind her, walking in front of the two
men.

The dingy windows of the warehouse didn't let in much
light and without the interior light on, the place was
gloomy. What windows there were, were unreachable from
the ground floor. No more than ten feet away from them
was an emergency exit. But even if they got outside,
he didn't know where they were or how far they were
from any help.

Just as Mulder was plotting his best strategies, the
room was plunged into darkness. Everyone stopped and
Mulder blinked in suprise. Reaching out to Alice in
the dark, he pushed at her shoulder, "Run," he hissed
at her. Alice took off like a shot, heading for the
large door. Behind him, Jack roared to life, cursing
loudly, he brought the gun up, aiming for the small
fleeing figure. But the gun was knocked aside as
Mulder pushed his arm away, throwing off his aim. They
struggled a moment before Jack swung the butt of the
gun against Mulder's head. Mulder sagged in his arms.

They all winced as Alice slammed the push bar down and
opened the door. The room was flooded with the
brilliant morning sun as it bathed the interior with
it's morning glow. Hands flew up in front of faces,
trying to reduce the glare.
Mulder heard Jenny's shoes slapping the concrete floor
as she raced to catch
the child. But Alice's small form didn't stop, didn't
slow, barely registered the impact of the door. She
raced out the exit and pumped her legs as hard as she
could. Behind her she heard someone explode out the
door as they followed her, curses and threats streaming
from their lips.

The crunch of the gravel grew closer and she prayed for
another burst of energy from her too-short legs. She
felt a tug at the ends of her hair as it fluttered out
behind her, her breath catching in fright. 'Nononono'
her mind sang out to her. 'Tooclosetooclosetooclose.'

And suddenly there were arms catching her up. Alice
screamed and struggled a moment before she realized it
was not Jenny. This man was big and tall and was
dressed all in black. He wore a helmet and goggles and
carried a large rifle. The letters 'FBI' were printed
across the back and the name Johansen was sewn above
his right breast. Then she noticed the raised voices.
"FBI! FREEZE! ON THE GROUND!"

"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay." Johansen tried to
reassure her, one arm still wrapped around her waist.
She looked back and much to her suprise, there was
Jenny, face down on the gravel, a dozen men surrounding
her, guns drawn, while another placed handcuffs on her.
Alice almost giggled at the sight, remembering how
this woman was always so picky about her clothes.

She looked up at the man. "Fox! Fox is still inside!"
The man frowned at her a moment until he remembered
the missing agent's name was Fox Mulder. "He's got
Fox!" Alice insisted. "He's got Fox's gun."

Looking up at the group around him, he called out a
warning, "We've still got someone inside, people!
Let's get out of the line of fire!"

Jenny was lifted from the gravel and placed in the
police van, armed men surrounding her. She shot a
nasty glare in Alice's direction, but made no other
moves toward the child.

Johansen turned to the girl. "Are you okay? Are you
hurt?"

"Fox is still in there. The big man has Fox." Alice
insisted.

Johansen put a restraining hand on her shoulder. "It's
okay. We'll get him out. Are you okay?"

Alice nodded her head. "They didn't hurt me. I'm
okay."

"Can you tell me how many there are?"

"Just the man now. It was just the man and her," Alice
said, pointing in Jenny's direction. "He has the gun.
And Fox."

The swat member relayed the information to the team
leader and minutes later Alice was sitting next to
Reggie Perdue and Frank Robbins. They questioned her
gently, wary of her harrowing experiences, before they
released her into the hands of the paramedics. Alice
had been insistent that they get Fox out and Reggie was
determined to do just that.
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Inside, Jack roughly pulled Mulder to his feet. Mulder
staggered a little, still dazed by the blow to the
head. Then they heard it, voices yelling "FBI! FREEZE!
DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

"Oh, shit," Jack cried. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Carson
wrestled Mulder to the door and nudging it open with
his foot, peered outside. Jenny was on the ground,
surrounded by men armed with guns. "Jenny!" he cried
softly, unheard. "Damnit!" he tightened his choke hold
on Mulder, drawing him back against his body. Mulder
began to cough before Jack relaxed his grip enough for
him to breath again.

They waited quietly a few moments until they heard a
voice over the loud speaker interrupt their thoughts.
"Carson, this is the FBI. Come out with your hands
up."

Carson didn't react. Mulder was silent, waiting. He
wanted to see what Jack would do. Waiting for his
moment to break free. Finally, Jack pushed him to the
door, using Mulder as a shield. He kicked the door
open and put the gun to Mulder's head.

"Stay back or I kill him."

Mulder could see the swat team, guns aimed in their
direction. "You come in here and he's a dead man."

"Let him go, Carson. You can't get away."

"I'll kill him!" Jack screamed.

All eyes were focused on the two men in the doorway.
Johansen cursed under his breath. Mulder was in the
way, they couldn't get a clean shot.

Mulder and Carson squinted against the bright morning
light. Suddenly, to their right, a bright light
flared. Thinking the swat team had entered the
building behind them, Jack swung his gun in the
direction of the light. Mulder looked up to see Carol
Glass, surrounded by luminescence so bright it outshone
the sun.

Carson panicked, seeing the strange figure, and started
to unload his weapon at the apparition. Mulder made
his move. Jabbing Jack in the stomach with his elbow,
he dove for the opening. Carson swore aloud and swung
the gun around, but before he could train the weapon on
Mulder, a dozen sharp-shooting rifles opened fire.
Carson crumpled into a bloody heap in the doorway. The
light inside the warehouse faded away as if it never
existed. Carol Glass was gone. Her child safe from
these avaricious monsters.
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Mulder blinked as the sun was blocked by bulky shadows.
Hands reached down and brought him unsteadily to his
feet. A dozen voices around him secured the area and
asked if he was all right. Mulder mumbled his replies
before he was lead over to the waiting ambulance.

When Alice saw him she threw herself into his arms.
Mulder flinched a little as she connected with his sore
ribs but returned the embrace. He was grateful when
someone finally removed the handcuffs, giving him the
chance wrap his arms around the little girl as she wept
into his chest.

And that was how Reggie found them, paramedics working
around the two to re-wrap Mulder's much-abused hands
and dab antiseptic against the cut on his forehead.

Reggie caught his eye and smiled at him, relieved that
they had finally resolved this case. Perdue diverted
his attention from Mulder long enough to thank the swat
team. Calling to Donald Green, he sent him to contact
Alice's father. "Have him meet us at the hospital," he
called out to Green.

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Later that afternoon, Reggie walked into the room
Mulder and Simmons shared. Mulder wasn't badly
injured, but Doctor Saunders wanted to keep an eye on
his ribs for a day or two.

Reggie stopped at the door, watching the two agents
argue over basketball teams.

"But, if Jordan... Hey, Reg!" Mulder called out.

"And how are you two today?"

Mulder looked at Simmons. "I'm ready to get out of
here, but I think Simmons, here, has fallen in love
with Nurse Ratchet."

Simmons gave him a mock glare. "It's not Ratchet, it's
Flowers. Helen Flowers."

"My mistake," Mulder grinned. "I think you just like
her for her sponge baths."

Simmons ears turned a interesting shade of red. "She's
never given me a... " Simmons began to defend himself.

"But you've thought about it, eh?"

The blush rose further until Harry's face was pink.

"Mulder, stop giving the boy a bad time. You could do
with a life yourself."

Simmons shot him a triumphant grin.

"I have a life." Mulder stated.

"Miss September doesn't count. You realize this won't
get you out of Emma's dinner. Maybe she can help you
get a REAL life with that girl she's trying to set you
up with."

"But, Reggie, I'm wounded."

"No excuses. You know how she is. And, Simmons, why
don't you ask Nurse Flowers to come."

The blush had disappeared for Harry's face. "Yes, sir.
I will, sir."

"By the way, Jenny Thompson is being charged with four
counts of murder and the kidnappings of Alice Glass and
Chrissie Beston. With everything we've collected, the
District Attorney doesn't see any problem with getting
a conviction."

"And Carson?"

"Didn't make it. He was dead at the scene. Mulder...
I meant to ask you. When we were outside, the swat
team had cut the power, but we all saw a bright light
inside the building. Do you know what that was?"

Mulder's smile froze on his face. He knew what it was,
but there was no way he could tell them it was Alice's
mother. Not without them permanently locking him up
and throwing away the key.

"I think it was just a latent power surge. Must have
burned out a transformer in the building." Mulder lied
smoothly.

Reggie frowned a little. He could tell Mulder was
lying, but couldn't tell why.
"Yeah, that was probably it," Reggie quietly agreed.

"How's Alice?"

"She's fine. That is one great kid. Said she wants to
be a doctor when she grows up. I hope she's okay if
they put her on the witness stand."

"She'll be okay, Reggie. The kid has one hell of a
guardian angel."

Reggie smiled and nodded his head. 'And so do you,
Mulder. So do you.'
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The End
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