I'm so, so sorry I didn't get this up yesterday!! I endured the hair cut from hell (seriously, ouch), so I was pretty well focused on just chilling the rest of the night. But, here is the next part, and I will get another part up sometime this weekend no matter what. There's only two left, so it will be finished some time next week.

And, thank you all so much for reviewing!!!

April 11, 2000

Rehoboth Bay- Sussex County, DE

Red and blue swept across the marsh, and the dusk sky beyond it. It felt like half the cops in Delaware were there, cruisers and emergency vehicles parked along every available piece of road. Patrolmen and women were slogging through the marshland in thick rubber boots and black wading overalls. They'd been searching the area for close to four hours, and so far the drag nets were coming up empty.

Mulder was anxious to find the body, and get the hell back to the prison. He didn't like the thought of Scully facing that animal all by herself. Sure, there were prison guards, but it was his job to back her up. He couldn't do that an hour away. But, they'd both decided it was best she stay and keep working Dodge, see if she could get any further locations from him. The sooner he gave them all up, the sooner they could leave, and never think about Dodge again.

"Over here!" Like a choreographed dance number, everyone stopped what they were doing, and turned to the voice.

A young patrolman was staring nauseated at the bone in his rubber-gloved hand. Mulder followed Feinstein out toward the kid, making a racket as they splashed through the murky water. The young rookie cop actually looked a bit frightened by the object in his hand, as if he'd just realized that it wasn't a TV show.

"It's a femur, and it's aged," the medical examiner patted the rookie on the back, and took the bone from him, studying it through her thick glasses.

It was tarnished to a tan color, and glistened with the water that soaked it, still dripping back into the marsh. Mulder stood and waited patiently for the ME to comment further, to let them know if the time frame fit.

"I can't give you much, but judging by length, it's likely female, and I'd say thirty years old, give or take. With more bones, I can give you more." She shrugged at them, her mousy brown curls bouncing against her shoulders.

"Alright, let's concentrate dragging over here!" Feinstein shouted to the cops. "I can't believe it, the bastard actually didn't lie to us," he said to Mulder.

Mulder shook his head. "He likes the attention too much. If he lied, we'd find out quick enough, and one call to the prison, and he doesn't get to see Scully anymore. He doesn't want that, he wants to spend as much time with her possible."

Feinstein studied him. "It bothers you a lot, doesn't it?"

"That my partner has to spend hours talking to a rapist-murder, while he gets off on his own crimes, and fantasizes of doing the same to her?" He said harshly. "Yeah, it bothers me a lot."

Feinstein opened his mouth, seemed to reconsider what he was going to say, and closed it again. Mulder looked at him dubiously, he assumed the older agent was trying to find the least offensive way to approach the 'are you banging your partner' question. The whole Bureau assumed he was, showed how little they knew.

Surprising him, Feinstein shrugged. "I've never had a female partner, but politically incorrect or not, I don't think I'd be too happy about this situation either. I'm old fashioned."

Mulder sighed. "It's less to do with her being a woman, and more because she's a close friend."

"Well, you better suck it up, Buddy. We've got twenty-six bodies after this one." He clamped Mulder on the shoulder.

Mulder scowled, and started when he heard one of the cops yell out, "I've got the skull!"

Sussex County Coroner's Office

Scully stood with her arms crossed over her chest and lips pursed tightly, metal autopsy gurneys on either side of her. Mulder, Feinstein and the ME were in front of her, the ME in her protective clothing. Discolored, waterlogged bones sat on one table, and with just a cursory look Scully could immediately tell the victim was female, and died at least two decades ago, likely more.

The other table held a dry, discolored set of bones--also female, and older than the water-logged set. This set had bite marks, on the ribs, ulna, and femur, which she attributed to foxes. It would make sense, foxes were mostly scavengers, and the marks were small. And, 17-year old Selena was found in a secluded and almost forgotten part of a wildlife refuge not far from Wilmington.

Scully turned to Lori's remains, and saw the photos of the pretty blond transposed in her mind. She heard the girl screaming, and saw her thrashing and fighting as Dodge used a cattle prod on her, and laughed, his erection growing with her pain. Lori was only a couple years older than Selena; had Selena not been murdered, they could have gone to college together. They could have been friends, two young women, laughing and drinking cheap beer in their dorm rooms to celebrate the end of midterms.

"Damn it," she mumbled. She felt his eyes, and looked up to Mulder's questioning face. She shook her head. She was fine, and they weren't going to discuss it here anyway. He nodded and backed off. Sometimes she underestimated the convenience of their ability to read each other so quickly and thoroughly.

"It's a safe bet that these are your girls, but we won't know until the lab finishes with the DNA. I already sent it to the Bureau lab, by the way. The guy laughed when I called him and told him to put a rush on it."

Mulder laughed at that. "They've been backed up since they opened."

"We can't make notifications until we know for sure. I won't put these kids' families through that," Feinstein said, his brown eyes dark with sorrow. He'd been fine earlier, but the bodies seemed to bring the whole cases racing back with a smack in the face.

"You didn't get anything else out of Dodge, did you, Scully?" Mulder ripped his eyes from the gurneys.

"No locations. Though, he does like his evening drives, seems to find them very relaxing, even with a dead body in the car."

The ME snorted. "Sounds charming."

"Terribly. He did give me a few more names though." She tore a page from her note paid, and handed it over to Feinstein.

He nodded. "I'll give this to some guys to work on tonight. Go back to your hotel, agents. Get some sleep."

Motor Lodge - Smyrna, DE (outside the JTVCC)

"I hate this, Mulder." She practically fell into the passenger seat of their rental, eyes closing as she pressed her skull into the headrest.

"Say the word, Scully, and I'll call Skinner myself, and tell him you've had enough." He closed his door, and sat, watching her.

She opened her eyes and turned to him. "I didn't say I wouldn't do it, just that I hate it. My skin is still crawling. I need a shower."

"I'll drop you at the hotel, and then go find dinner. Any requests?"

"No," she sighed. "Wait, nothing with meat or bones or blood."

"One of the guards mentioned a Mexican restaurant. How about a bean burrito and salsa and chips, extra spicy for the adventurous lady?" He gave her a smile.

She managed a smile back. "Sounds good."

As promised, Mulder dropped her off, and then headed off to the restaurant, thanking god for his photographic memory. He knew the address and after four days of driving around the area, knew how to find it. He followed his partner's lead, and went vegetarian for a night, still seeing the bones in his head and the enraptured look on Dodge's face as he stared at Scully, imagining ways to torture her.

Mulder was surprised, when he got back to the hotel, to find his partner lounging on his bed in her pajamas and a bathrobe, a file folder in her hands. He smiled at the memory it evoked of their first case together. It felt like such a long time ago, that he had that wonderful moment of finding someone who'd actually listen to him without laughing in his face. She still listened to him.

"He partner, whatcha reading?" He set the box on the bedside table, and began to remove his jacket and loosen his tie.

"Howard's file."

He stopped his motions, his hands going to his hips. "Why?"

Scully looked at him over the file, baby blue eyes impatient and tired. "I want to know why."

"Why what?"

"Why he is the way he is. What made him a killer."

Mulder sighed, and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. "You aren't going to find what you want in there, Scully. You're never going to understand him the way you need to, you can't, he was right about that."

"Why, Mulder? That's what you do, you figure them out, and then find them. He's already found, I just want to figure him out. It shouldn't be that hard."

"I don't figure them out, Scully. I study behavior and predict future behavior and the past experiences that may have led to it, but I've never really understood. Not the way you're looking to." He didn't want this for her, this emotional torture. He knew it too well, and the last person he'd wish it upon was Scully.

Scully who watched him tight-lipped, unhappy with his assessment.

Mulder sighed and ran his hands over his face. "He's a sociopath and a sexual sadist. His father was abusive to both Howard and his mother, Howard's mother was abusive to him in turn. He took it from both, he saw the way his father treated his mother, and emulates that now. He blames his mother because she was too weak to protect him from his father, too weak to protect herself, and too weak to protect him from herself. So, he takes strong women, petite like his mother was, and does his damnedest to abuse and break them. Like his mother broke him. He has to show them both that he's stronger than they ever were, and that at heart they are weak and worthless. It may have started with a woman that pissed him off, and his need to release the anger that had built up, but after a few years of doing it, the only way he could get off was extreme violence. But, that doesn't really explain it, does it?"

"No," Scully answered softly, watching him with tired, miserable eyes.

"It doesn't explain why he became a monster, and another horribly abused child grew up to be a social worker, or a drug addict, or a teacher, or hell, a cop. Nothing in that file will explain that, Scully. Trust me. I've read and written hundreds of profiles, and never found that answer. Nobody in the BAU has or ever will." Mulder picked up her hands and held them in his. "Please don't do this to yourself. You'll drive yourself crazy."

She continued watching him for several silent minutes, before surprising her partner, and leaning up toward him. She dropped his hands, and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him as close as she could, sighing into his shoulder.

"I can still feel his eyes on me, Mulder. I can't shake that feeling. It feels like Pfaster."

After the surprise wore off, Mulder squeezed her back, happy to provide her whatever comfort he could. It took all his self-control not to tense at the mention of Pfaster, and if this assignment was dragging up those memories, he was ready to call an end to it.

"Let me call Skinner, and get us off this."

"No." She abruptly pulled back, and looked into his eyes. "I have to see this through, for those families, and for myself. I'll be alright."

Mulder knew there was no talking her out of it. Dana Scully, strong as a redwood. He sighed. "Alright, what do you say we see what's on pay-per-view?"

She smirked. "And what, charge it to the Bureau?"

"It's the least they owe us for this mindfuck," he said, already grabbing the remote.

"As long as you explain it to Skinner."

He grinned. "Of course." He knew they were both putting on fake smiles, but it was the best they could do with Howard and his victims hanging over their heads. He'd play his part. "Ooh, Lusty Babes of Little Rock."

Scully grinned and threw a pillow at him.