March 14th, 1995

"Mulder, did you hear?"

He looked up to see his partner standing in the doorway, a pensive look on her face. Shaking his head, he beckoned her inside his office, watching her sit down and primly cross her legs. That was one habit he still couldn't leave behind, profiling the people close to him, and he was doing that to her that very moment. Scully's stance was still very closed off to him, as if she didn't quite want to be there, telling him this information. "What news are you bringing me, Scully?" he asked, grinning at her as he leaned back and settled his feet on his desk.

She tossed a newspaper on his lap, and he glanced down to see that it was from Fairfield, Idaho. "Seems like our zookeeper has turned up missing. The running theory is that she was liberated by her wildlife activist friends, since residents of Fairfield report seeing a bright light, like on a helicopter. In fact, it was so blinding that no one can remember if the cell she was being kept in was unlocked or not. Seeing as it's been a little over two weeks, officials are giving up the search and declaring her missing, presumed dead."

"Huh," he muttered as he picked up the paper and began to read the article. Scully had left out a few key details, like how the sheriff and his deputy had lost about two hours the night Willa Ambrose had gone missing. And the fact that no one from her former group was gloating about the fact that they had enacted a major coup in breaking her out of jail, well, that was just the cherry atop the sundae. "So, what do you make of the missing time, Scully?"

"They probably fell asleep. That town is so quiet, it wouldn't surprise me if they were trying to claim that time had slipped past them in an effort to cover up the fact that there had been a jailbreak."

"Still, don't you consider the fact that no one has seen Will, nor heard from her, in weeks to be a little odd?"

Scully shook her head. "No, not at all. Come on, if anyone was to tell where she'd been secreted off to, the authorities would be doing their damnedest to get her extradited back to Idaho and face murder charges. These people would not go through that effort just to have her imprisoned once more. Face it, she's gone with the wind, Mulder. An interesting footnote to a bizarre case that I would just like to forget."

"Hey, you're the one who brought me the newspaper, here."

"Only because it was left on my doorstep, on top of my regular subscription."

Mulder frowned a little at her , and she shook her head, smiling wryly at him. "You obviously think you know what I'm going to ask next. Go on, say it."

"I have no idea why someone would leave a paper for a small town on the other side of the country on my doorstep, but it probably has nothing to do with the fact that I am an FBI agent, assigned to cases that are somewhat beyond belief. There's an answer for everything, even if I don't know it yet."

This made him laugh a little, shaking his head as he bent back over the paper, perusing the article in close detail. "Keep telling yourself that, Scully. Maybe someday I'll convince you that there's more stuff in heaven and earth than is dreamt of in your scientific method."

"I thought it was my philosophy," she quipped, and he shook his head. "Why?"

"You're a scientist, you're not focused on the whys of the world, you're focused on the hows and the whats. Hence, the change in quote."

Scully sighed loudly before getting up from her chair and heading over to the doorway. "I'll just go and finish up the case report for the last case we worked. Make sure that you get me your part of it soon, so Skinner doesn't come yelling to me about the missing paperwork."

"Yes, dear," he laconically muttered, studying the picture of Willa that the paper had used. There was something about her eyes that was so haunting, so full of yearning, that he couldn't help but wonder if that was the reason that she had been chosen, or if Sophie had told the visitors about her keeper and friend and if that compassion had marked Willa as different, as the part of humanity worth saving.

Sighing, he set the paper aside before pulling out a pair of scissors from his desk drawer and clipping the article from it, placing it in the file he kept of stories that he knew would come back to visit in some way, someday. There was no way that the tender voice of Willa Ambrose was quieted just yet, and he was determined to welcome her home, whenever that day arrived.