"And it is the spirit of the LORD, that you have come here tonight! And I HOPE, that in HIS HOLY NAME, you will give of your hearts this day!"
"You can go past this, thanks." The security computer tech nodded at Scully's prompt and the tape sped up, accelerating the Reverend's movements to a comical flailing.
"You have to admit, Scully...the man has the powah!" She didn't have to turn to see Mulder's grin. "He raised over $150,000 that night." He clasped her shoulders in his hands for a moment. "Demons out!"
Scully's lips twisted into a wry grin at Mulder's antics and elbowed him softly. "It's not hard to get people to do something if they think you have something they need." She turned and looked up at him from her seat. "In the case of the Reverend's viewers, they believe Canfield has a touch with God that they don't. They will empty their wallets just for a piece of that, and he uses his charisma to make them think that he'll speak to God for them."
"Stop it here," she told the tech as the speech ended, then looked back at her partner. "In the case of these people, he alters his sermon to make those who have money feel guilty for their riches, as it is not the humble lifestyle the Lord appreciates. They'll ease their consciences, empty their checking accounts and get a tax write-off all in one fell swoop. No muss, no fuss, no commitment."
*And in your case, Mulder, your hope of finding your sister is the ring in your nose by which the Smoking Man leads you.* She paused a moment as she pushed that thought to the back of her mind. *Too many parallels, Mulder...am I the only one to see them?*
She sighed. "It's sad how easily people with hope can be led, and that there are people like Canfield ready to lead them for their own selfish gains." She sighed, thinking of more than just the Reverend's jilted flock as she spoke the last. "But we didn't come out here to debate ethics, or strength of faith." She looked back to the tech again. "Okay, play it from here."
They watched the five different screens as the party began, the sound from the speakers tinny as the music started and people began to get up and mingle.
"You said that this was when he approached her?" Mulder leaned forward to watch as she nodded in reply. The three of them watched the sulky teenager silently as she picked at her food and looked idly at the crowd.
She felt the heat of her partner against her back as he leaned forward to point at the upper corner of the screen. "There," he said, "See him? He's watching her."
Scully followed his gaze and saw that he was right. He was standing off to one side, sipping a drink and watching her. He fit the sketchy description too; with his tall frame and dark wavy hair, this could be their man. *It certainly fits with the Devil description as well...he even has a goatee*
They focused on him for another minute or so, and watched him take a glass of champagne from a waiter and approach her table. "Stop it here." The tape froze as he handed Christine the drink, catching his smiling face in the frame. "The description fits with what Christine remembers....can we zoom in and get a printout of that picture?"
"Sure thing, Agent Scully." The tech highlighted the young man's image and clicked the PRINT button. The inkjet machine whirred to life and the picture emerged a half-inch at a time.
"I'll get Chuck to sharpen it up for us." Mulder resumed his seat and she glanced back at him, remembering the intrepid photoanalyst from other cases.
"You will tell Chuck that it's just a photo, right? Nothing else?" She felt her eyebrow arch, this time with amusement.
Mulder mock-pouted as he grabbed the printout. "You're no fun. How else am I going to feed the man's hobby?" She chuckled softly and nodded to the tech to start the tape again.
They watched as the two talked, with nobody else seeming to show interest in Christine. She sipped some champagne and took his offered hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor. "Well, so far it fits with what she told me." She looked at Mulder, who was watching with a puzzled expression. "What?"
"I'm just wondering why all the photographers are still snapping pictures of the Reverend and his contributors and not capturing this Kodak moment." He nodded to the unmolested couple, swaying against one another, oblivious to the crowd. "The tabloids would give a fortune for a photo like that; you saw how they jumped all over the story after it happened. How come none of them saw the beginning of it?"
Scully watched a little more carefully and saw that it was true. Nobody seemed to be watching the couple at all, least of all the photographers. She grew even more puzzled as the couple went to the bar and were served without a second glance. She knew the Reverend would have left specific orders *not* to serve Christine alcohol. This certainly made things more interesting.
She had to admit, with his handsome looks and obvious style, it would be hard for Christine or any teenager to resist this young man. *That doesn't make him innocent of date rape* she admonished herself. *You've met many a handsome monster in your younger years as well.* As Christine and her new friend sat at a nearby table and talked, Scully wondered what he was saying to her, what he was promising to get her away from there.
Whatever he said must have worked, however, because she glanced nervously at her father's table about ten minutes later, then at the door. He leaned forward and whispered something, and Scully tensed as Christine smiled and nodded.
Scully was reminded suddenly of what she did when she watched a favorite movie, praying that the hero didn't take that one step that led to certain disaster no matter how many times she knew that he did. She prayed that Christine would come to her senses, even as she watched them walk to the door, the girl's fingers twined with his, then watched with surprise as nobody acknowledged that Reverend Canfield's daughter was leaving with a stranger. "What the hell...?"
"My feelings exactly." Mulder pointed to the stone-faced bodyguard that stood not ten feet from the exit, oblivious to their departure even as the pair walked by him. "You think he's still employed by the Reverend?"
"I don't know.....can we see the valet parking video now?" Scully looked at the confusing array of VCRs and monitors and located the archive for the valet drop-off even as the tech grabbed it. "If he dropped his car off, we can find the plate number from the valet records."
Mulder watched as the tech slid the tape into the VCR and hit PLAY. "That is, if people even remember him being there."
The tech fine-tuned the images as the video began. "Well we have him on camera, and I can zoom in and get a plate number, record or not." He began to play the tape on a higher speed, slow enough to see the people getting in and out, but fast enough so they wouldn't be there all evening.
"Hey, you wanna catch Sigfried and Roy after this, or walk over and see the pirate show?"
Scully looked back to Mulder's grin with one of her own. "What, no drive-thru wedding with Elvis as the minister?" She pointed soberly at her partner, as he appeared to consider the suggestion. "No."
"But--"
"Here he is."
They both ceased the banter and leaned forward at the tech's summons, and saw the smiling face of Christine Canfield as the now-familiar young man walked her around to the passenger side of a dusty Jeep Grand Wagoneer. Her step was unsteady, and Scully knew by the girl's silly grin that she was at least tipsy, if not full-blown intoxicated by this time. *Strike two, mystery guest. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor* "Can we get a plate?"
The tech highlighted the fender of the big wagon, and blew out his breath in frustration as the image enlarged. "Dammit....there's a dirty dust cover on the plate. I can't see anything."
Mulder shrugged. "We can check with the valet's records and hope for the best."
"Wait." Both men turned to her curiously. "Go to the right....zoom in on the fender. There's a sticker on it...see if you can sharpen that up."
"What, you looking to find out if he wants to save the whales?" Mulder watched as the tech went to work enlarging the image, already arranging his papers into something portable.
Scully said nothing as the image began to coalesce on the screen, and as it cleared she smiled. "Bingo."
"What?" Mulder tilted his head at her smile, the glanced at the screen. "What is it?"
"Something that Christine told me about what he said to her made me remember....it's been so long, I wasn't sure I remembered right, but this confirms it." She tapped her finger to the screen and the small square sticker on the bumper. "UCB. This is a parking sticker for University of California at Berkeley."
"How do you know?" Mulder squinted at the image.
"Christine said that her attacker teased her about worshipping a golden bear instead of a golden calf. Berkeley's football team is The Golden Bears." She suppressed a smile at Mulder's surprise.
"How do you know *that*?" Even as he asked, she saw the realization dawn. "Right....freshman year at Berkeley...physics major."
She nodded. "California, here we come..." She paused as Mulder looked at her strangely. "What?"
He winked at her. "Just trying to imagine you in a tube top and love beads."
The computer tech snorted in laughter, and she pulled Mulder out of the room by his tie.
**********
Scully fumed silently, her eyes closed in weariness. *All those hotels in Vegas, and we end up here. I'm going to kill him.* She sat up on the bed, trying *not* to look at the mirror above her, and reached for her suitcase.
She declined to unpack, as the dresser drawers looked more suited for a domicile for vermin than a place to put clothes. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and headed for the miniscule bathroom. After a moment's glare at the toilet and sink --no shower-- she began to get ready for bed. *I'm going to kill him.* The memories of the evening filtered back to her travel-fogged brain, and as she brushed her teeth she started to sort through them, something she would have done earlier if she hadn't fallen asleep in the car.
First, they'd shown Christine the stranger's picture, and her wide-eyed, wordless nod confirmed that the goateed youth was who they were looking for. After a few more questions, she told them that she remembered a big car that sat high on the road, which was consistent with the Grand Wagoneer they'd seen in the video. Canfield had thanked them for the information, and they'd left to question the hotel staff.
"Yeah, I saw him...had a real knockout with him too. Tall brunette, legs goin' on for miles!" The bartender had barely glanced at Christine's picture before shaking his head. "Nope, he was with the brunette all night. *Man* was she something!"
The valet's account was just as puzzling. "Yeah, I remember that Jeep...he kept that old thing tuned like a piano. The girl that was with him had trouble getting in."
"Because she was drunk?"
"No, because she was short. Cute little redhead in a short skirt, she had a problem getting in, ah, shall we say modestly?" He'd looked at Scully, taking in her diminutive figure and dress, and had the good grace to blush and mumble an apology before they thanked him and left.
They'd even treated the now-unemployed bodyguard of Reverend Canfield to couple of drinks. He'd shook his head when they'd showed him the picture. "I would have seen anyone trying to leave with her, 'specially someone like him. The Rev, he left me specific instructions to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't drink and didn't leave with anyone. When I saw she was gone, I figured she went up to her room." He looked at them, an earnest, lost expression on his face. "I don't know why I didn't check....but I guess that's why I got fired. I should have been watchin' her closer." They'd left him to his regret with heavy hearts and no closer to answers than they were when they'd left the security office.
Then Mulder suggested heading out to California that night to get a jump on the drive. Tired and hungry, she had agreed when he said they'd stop for something to eat as soon as they got on the road. And now, to her regret, they were here, at the irritatingly named Hotel California. Mulder was grinning when he woke her to show her what he'd found.
"Such a lovely place...." He'd said. If she hadn't been muzzy from her nap, she would have punched him.
Now, as she shed her blouse and skirt and pulled on the soft cotton pajamas, she tried to sort out the answers they *did* get. How, if everything they saw on that video was what happened, did everyone else see this young man with someone different? Could this be an organized attempt to discredit the Reverend? She sank to the sagging mattress and lay back, turning quickly on her side and wishing she could put a cover over that damned mirror.
There was another issue on her mind....Berkeley. She'd been back there once since she transferred with her family to Maryland, and it was quite an experience. A lot of memories had surfaced as she'd walked around the campus, some of them pleasant, some of them not, all of them things that she thought she'd left behind.
She remembered her diligence and focus on her physics classes; her parents had sacrificed a lot to give her the chance to go to a big university, and she wasn't going to squander it on partying and slacking off. Those were long study nights in her dorm room, mostly alone as her roommate seemed intent on drinking away her freshman year.
It was a month into the semester that things changed, when she looked up from her books and began to really listen to what was going on around her. All these people in one place, all of them voicing their opinions and all of them ready to debate until they dropped about it. She had been nearly dumbstruck with the realization that this was not her house, where her father's rules and opinions were law. This was a place where she could voice her ideas *and be heard* instead of trying to shout above her brothers and sisters' voices.
She could practically taste the pizza she'd been offered (Hawaiian) when she joined one of the activist groups for a discussion on nuclear power and weapons. The debates had been numerous, and had lasted long into the night. She had devoured every bit of information she'd been given, believed every "educational" brochure she read on the subject, and every day she learned more and more about what the military was doing with the power of the atom. What her father was doing every day when he went to work.
She remembered that Thanksgiving break, and coming home with her soul afire with new ideas, *different* ideas that she knew would make waves in her "smooth-sailing" family. She remembered her anticipation all the way home. And they thought *Melissa* was a handful.....
She remembered the hot tears that burned down her face as she stormed out of the house that first night, her throat sore from shouting, crescent-shaped nail marks so firmly pressed into the heels of her hands that she'd nearly broken the skin. Bill and Charlie had shouted right back at her, good little Navy brats, standing up for what their country had done at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. She didn't care about their anger; from them she was used to it. What had made her cry was the hurt she saw in her father's eyes, the disappointment in her that had rendered him speechless in the face of her tirade. Her heart had ached for what he must be feeling, wondering what had happened to his daughter, the one she knew was his favorite.
She remembered her surrender, how she'd gone back and apologized to Ahab, and her soul had cracked when she saw the gap she'd opened between them. The love would always be there, but the knowledge that she'd somehow tarnished his image of her stayed with her even now.
But she also remembered laughing her troubles away with her new-found friends at a local microbrewery, getting drunk from "tasting" the various flavors. She could almost smell the rich flavor of the thick stouts....
And a brisk October night under a star-filled sky, soft hands stroking her body and a beard-scratchy smile against her cheek as she surrendered to her long-repressed passion.
So many mixed feelings, so many memories surfacing that she'd thought were long-buried after she decided to go to medical school. They'd poked their heads up when she was here a few years ago, and now they were investigating on campus. She was still wondering what the next day would bring when she fell asleep.
**********
His daughter was in a sedative-induced slumber when the man arrived for his instructions.
"You have what I need?"
The Reverend held out a computer printout, obtained by the hotel security tech. It was amazing how easily secrets were divulged with just a slight application of authority. He would have to phone his lawyer to cover the tech's hospital bills, plus a generous amount delivered to his home both to keep him quiet and to let him know that he knew where he lived if he didn't keep quiet.
The man took it, looking at the smiling face for only a second before putting it inside his coat. "How you want me to work this?"
The headline swam before his eyes as he replied quietly. "Make it look like an accident."
"Where do I start?"
**********
"University of California at Berkeley," Mulder read the sign aloud as they entered the campus proper. "My mother used to say that it was too small to be a city-state and too big to be an insane asylum."
Scully's lips barely curled upwards, and he sighed to himself. He had hoped to get at least a smile out of her before they began the investigation, but it looked as if it was futile. His partner had been strangely reticent, even though his attempts at conversation on the way here. After the first hour of trying, starting with "I Spy" and ending with "99 Bottles of Beer", he'd just given up and turned on the radio.
Now, as they drove slowly along the road, classic rock playing softly on the speakers, she watched out the window at the kids playing frisbee, the group sitting in a circle and talking, and a pair of musicians, a scruffy brown-haired young man on the guitar, and a pretty blonde on the bongos. He watched Scully watching them, and wondered as he did a few years ago what her college experience had been like. She'd never told him about her college years, and while he was certainly content to let her have her privacy, it still nibbled at him on occasion.
What was she like back then? Looking at her now, he found he couldn't picture her as anyone but the woman that sat beside him. Anyone else that he'd known in her family he could picture as younger, even as children, with little difficulty.
Melissa, the pretty dreamer blowing dandelions and skipping rope. Growing to a coltish, then beautiful young woman that drove the boys crazy.
Bill Jr., teasing the girls and playing baseball, his shoulders growing broad even as he shot up to tower over his classmates.
Even Maggie, picking flowers and skinning her knee on the playground. Becoming a rock of stability to her family and children.
But Scully....he sighed inwardly as he even used her last name in his thoughts about her, even so far as to be startled when someone called her "Dana". He wondered if Scully had *ever* been a child, let alone a teenager or college student. He supposed that if he'd known her father, he'd probably have the same dilemma. She was just...Scully, so self-possessed in life, in work, even in grief. He wondered if she'd ever let herself go, really let her feelings show through the walls he saw in her eyes sometimes. He was still mulling it over as he eased the car into a parking spot near the campus security.
Scully came out of her reverie as he turned the car off, and for a second she paused, seeming suddenly far off as she looked over at the security building.
"You okay?" He knew what the answer would be, but at least she would say something.
"I'm fine." She gathered the papers together into the manila folder and reached for the door handle. He watched her with growing curiosity as they headed for the small building, wondering at the memories that must be returning for her.
The blue-uniformed man looked up at their entrance, his large hands straightening the papers he was looking at as he rose. He was tall and reasonably fit, which surprised Mulder. When he thought of campus security, he pictured a uniform straining over a paunch, of a face twisted with bitterness of dreams of law enforcement unrealized. With his blue eyes and honest smile, this man looked as if he would be just as comfortable on a surfboard as well as behind this desk. He blinked out of his introspection and reached for his I.D. as the man spoke. "Can I help you folks?"
He and his partner flipped open their wallets with an eerie synchronization and Mulder nodded. "Special Agents Mulder and Scully, we faxed in a request on a parking sticker that was issued this year?"
The officer, whose name tag read "Pritchard", raised his chin in recognition. "Oh yeah. The secretary got the fax and passed it along." He went back to his desk and picked up the papers that he'd been reading, handing them the third sheet in the stack. "There you go, I ran the number that you sent. Hope that helps, Agents."
Scully grabbed the paper, and he saw her brow furrow in confusion as she looked in the file they'd brought with them. "Something wrong, Scully?"
She passed the paper to him, and Mulder felt his own brows draw together as he read the name of the registrant: Melissa Stevens. He glanced at Scully, who was double checking both the picture of the car and of the sticker that they'd lifted from the parking video in Vegas. "Is this the right car?"
"If it's a 1982 Jeep Grand Wagoneer, it is." Pritchard smiled. "I remember that one too....little thing like her driving a beat-up boat like that. She called it 'large and in charge'."
"All these kids coming in and you remember her?" He didn't even need to look to see that arched eyebrow as Scully spoke up, her "skepti-brow", as he called it.
Pritchard smiled even wider. "She was the only freshman to ask for my telephone number." He chuckled. "She was something."
"Have you ever seen her with this man?" Mulder showed him the photo of the suspect, and the man shook his head slowly.
"Nope, haven't seen her much at all...or him." He nodded to Scully. "Like you said, it's a big campus. I have my hands full with kids who *do* get in trouble. She's kept her nose clean, or I'd remember seeing her."
Mulder squinted at the blurry copy of the girl's drivers license, but couldn't get an idea of what she looked like other than 5'2"/blonde/blue that was listed on the card. It was no matter, he had her campus address and phone number, they could--
"Do you have a copy of this year's Student Directory?" He and Pritchard both looked over at Scully, and the officer nodded. Scully looked back at him, and must have seen the curiosity in his eyes. "It's to help the freshman get to know each other, get an idea about where everyone was coming from, their majors, a way to bond."
Mulder nodded at her explanation, and suddenly knew what he was going to look for before they left California. Pritchard handed her the thick book with a smile. "You an alum?"
She shook her head with a soft smile as she flipped through the smiling faces. "I spent my freshman year here before I had to move. I remember this, though." She patted the glossy pages as she flipped through it. She stopped on a page near the back, and after a second, she pointed, moving so that he could see the picture. "Here she is, Melissa Stevens, Tulsa, Oklahoma, Environmental Science major."
Mulder looked at the face, grinning impishly for the camera, and suppressed the urge to smile back. He gave himself a little mental shake, chastising himself for the slip. Her car was used in the commission of a crime; just because she made people smile didn't make her any less of a suspect. Still, the face was familiar, and he closed the book quickly. "I know where we can find her." Scully looked at him, and he smiled. "She likes the bongos."
He saw her puzzled look clear as she remembered the two musicians at the foot of the steps, and she nodded, then smiled at the officer. "Thank you for your help, sir." Mulder raised his chin in farewell as they walked out.
He smiled at her as they headed back to the car. "So, they keep the Student Directories in the library?"
She chuckled back at him, and he gave a mental cheer at the gleam in her eye. "You'll see it when we find the Devil at Berkeley." Mulder just smiled and started the car.
As they made their way back to where they saw Melissa, he took advantage of her suddenly talkative mood. "So if your family hadn't had to move at the end of your freshman year, would you have stayed here?" He looked at the sunny day outside, at the bits of campus life. "There's a lot to like from what I can see."
A glance saw her tilt her head to one side, considering her answer, then a small shake of her head. "No...no, I don't think so."
When she didn't continue, he asked. "Didn't it have enough to offer? The curriculum, the faculty...." He trailed off as he spotted the pair again, and a parking space nearby. He almost missed her reply as he nosed the sedan between the lines.
"I think it offered more than I was ready for."
He felt his eyebrows brush his hairline as she got out of the car, and muttered to himself as he followed, "Curiouser and curiouser."
The two students looked to be taking a break, laughing and talking to each other as they relaxed in the afternoon sun. The boy was dressed in thrift-store finery, carpenter pants, a t-shirt with a Hot Wheels iron-on decal, and the requisite Birkenstock sandals. His brown hair was wavy and pulled back in a ponytail, and his hazel eyes gleamed as he laughed at something the girl said. A well-worn guitar rested across his lap.
The girl, whose open smile revealed her to be the girl they were looking for, was dressed in the same causal style, an old army jacket over a U.C. Berkeley shirt, faded wide-leg jeans and a pair of hiking sandals. She wore a silvery choker around her neck, and friendship bracelets festooned both arms from her wrists to her elbows. Her sun-bleached hair was mussed, but she didn't seem to care as she raked a hand through the short platinum mop. Between her knees sat a set of bongos, a strap attached to each side for easy transportation.
The two looked up as he and Scully approached, their smiles fading into wary curiosity as they reached them. Mulder couldn't blame them. With their suits and manner, he and his partner were obviously here on Official Business, which Scully confirmed as she addressed the girl. "Are you Melissa Stevens?"
The girl peered up at them over the edge of her Lennon shades; her eyes were a clear blue. "That's me. Are you the Prize Patrol or something?" she asked, her smile softening the sarcasm into charm. Her voice had a soft drawl, not enough to brand her a "hick", but enough to remind him how falsely the Reverend's accent rang.
Her smile faded again as they both flashed their credentials. "I'm Agent Dana Scully, and this Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions...?"
She cast a glance at the guitarist, who caught the hint and got to his feet. "I'll catch you later, Moon." He tugged at a lock of her hair playfully, and she winked at him.
"Not if I catch you first, brother....seeya!" She watched the young man lope across the quad, then turned back to them. "All right, ask away."
Mulder looked at Scully, caught her small nod and smiled down at the girl. "You know a good place where we can score a couple of sodas?"
Her eyes widened. "They TOLD you?"
He paused for a second. "Told us what, exactly?" He tensed, ready to grab her if she decided to bolt. Maybe she did know why they were here...
She grinned at their reaction and winked at him. "That I knew the vending machine that will give free Cokes. I'll show you." She leaped lightly to her feet and slung the bongos over her shoulder, and he and Scully moved to either side of her as they headed toward a nearby classroom building.
"You know, you guys have great names," She said as they opened the door for her. "Did you know that Dana is a goddess in certain circles?"
Mulder suppressed a grin at Scully's wry, "I hadn't heard."
She nodded, her smile widening at their quiet amusement. "It just fits...especially with your partner." She turned her charming smile to him. "It would take a goddess to tame a Fox."
Scully shot him a glance, and Mulder felt the heat rise in his cheeks at her "taming" look. He shook his head at the girl's chuckle as they escorted her to an empty classroom. "Have a seat," he said, "We can talk in here."
"Sure thing." The girl moved to the teacher's desk and hoisted herself onto it, letting the bongos slide to the floor with a soft wooden "thud". Mulder wondered if she chose that spot on purpose; in order to keep the figurative "upper hand", he and Scully would have to remain standing as they questioned her. A glance at Scully saw that she was thinking the same thing. "So," she said, "What's the buzz?" She took off the shades and tucked them into a pocket.
Mulder took the cue, pulling out his notebook for effect, though he wasn't sure if his "dumb cop" act would fly as well with her as it had with the Reverend. "Do you own a 1982 Jeep Grand Wagoneer?" Scully stood to one side, while he took a seat at one of the student desks.
She nodded. "I do." She replied, her gaze open and curious. "Did I miss a ticket?"
"Were you driving it last Friday night?" Scully countered, forcing the girl to shift her gaze to her.
She shook her head. "No, I was on campus. Me and Jeff...he's the guy I was with today...we perform together at a local cafe." She shrugged. "But that doesn't mean it was parked. I own it, but a lot of people have the keys."
"Why is that?" Mulder took his turn, genuinely curious.
She shifted her gaze again, her lips tightening just a bit, fading her friendly demeanor enough to show Mulder that she knew exactly what they were doing. "Not a lot of freshman have cars. I do, but I rarely use it. I gave a bunch of people sets of keys, so long as they fill the tank and keep it in good shape. So far no problem.....but then you wouldn't be asking about it." Her brows drew together in puzzlement. "What's happened?"
"We're going to need the names of all the people who have sets of keys, Ms. Stevens," Scully pulled out her notebook and a pen, continuing their route around the desk.
Melissa sighed, looking towards the ceiling as she thought. "Lessee, there's Doog, Jeff, Mike, Cory, Oz, Gina, Andrew, Bill, Hale, Mary, Grace...."
"Do any of this vast list resemble him?" Mulder held up the printout of their suspect.
As she leaned over to glance at it, they heard the sound of footsteps approach the classroom and a young man poked his head in. He smiled at the girl. "Hey Moonie, I was just looking for--" He stopped mid-sentence as he saw she wasn't alone.
Everyone froze.
Mulder's eyes widened as he recognized the newcomer. The young man was dressed far more casually today, but the smile, the hair...he was the one they were looking for. The young man's gaze flicked from the picture in Mulder's hand to his face, and that shift in attention released everyone from their surprised paralysis.
The young man bolted, the soles of his sneakered feet slapping at the tile as he ran.
"Stop right there!" Scully shouted, sprinting out the door after him. Mulder leaped to his feet and started to follow her.
The door slammed shut in front of him, even as he heard another noise to his right. He grabbed the knob and pulled hard, but the door wouldn't budge.
"Can't let you do that, sorry...."
He looked over at Melissa, forgetting until he heard her voice that she was even there, and saw her standing against the closet door, her back to it and pushing hard. He gave a stronger yank at the door, and felt it give a bit--
--just as the closet door opened a bit. Melissa shoved herself back, her rear slamming the closet door with a jolt--
--and the classroom door slammed so hard it pulled the doorknob from his grip.
"Open this door!" Strange or not, Scully needed backup, and he'd been floored by far worse than this to stop now. A crazy thought flitted through his mind. *Or what? Am I going to charge her with Illegal Use of Door?*
Even in the face of his anger, she smiled, seemingly in response to his thoughts. "How are you going to arrest me for obstruction of justice if you go after them?" Her body relaxed just a bit. "He won't hurt her, and she can't catch him."
He stared at her, incredulous at her smile, her quiet defiance. She met his gaze with a slight shrug. "He's lost her already, I'll bet."
As if on cue, his cel phone bleated at him, and she walked back to the teacher's desk as he grabbed it. "Mulder."
Scully's voice was breathless. "I lost him, Mulder....I'm on....the east side....of campus."
His jaw clenched at her words, and he looked over at Melissa, who was gathering her things. "Stay there, Scully. I'll come pick you up."
"Right..." Still panting, she cut the connection before he could say any more. He shoved the phone back in his pocket, feeling the headache start as he regarded her. "How did you know?"
Her smile was sympathetic. "You've never seen him run."
He turned away before he said something he'd regret and gave the doorknob another yank. This time it opened easily, and headed down the hall toward the glowing red "EXIT" sign.
"Hold up!"
He stopped, not looking back. He didn't want to think about what she'd done back in the classroom. Scully was waiting for him, and he was damned if this girl would delay him any longer than she had already. He heard a metallic *thunk*, and turned around as two more followed the first, his curiosity winning over his frustration.
Melissa stood at the vending machine, and now cradled three cans of iced tea against her chest. She hurried to catch up with him, and met his hands-on-hips glare with surprised indignation. "What? She's gonna need it, isn't she?"
He whirled and made for the car, forcing her to keep up with his long, angry strides if she didn't want to be left behind. To his annoyance, she managed it easily, the bongos bumping against her hip. She slid into the back seat of the car, and thankfully kept quiet as he cruised the campus in search of his partner.
**********
Scully leaned against a building as she waited for Mulder. It hadn't taken her long to regain her breath, but regaining her composure...that would take a bit longer. She shaded her eyes with her hand, staring out across the road beyond the parking lot, the road where the suspect had escaped.
She looked, unbelieving, at the dusty sneakerprint on the car's hood. Footprint. Singular. Not a set of tracks as he ran across the hood and roof of the car...just one footprint, then nothing.
"I had him..." she said to herself. "I *had* him."
And she had. He had gotten a headstart when he first bolted down the hallway, but as he reached the front door he'd skidded and nearly fell, banging out the door awkwardly before regaining his footing. She'd reached the door before it closed, shouting the familiar battle cry of "Federal Agent!" as she leaped down the steps. As she'd closed in on the suspect, she'd thanked herself for continuing her workouts at her local gym, and her mother for pointing her towards the Easy Spirit store to buy her work shoes.
She'd lost a bit of ground as he hurdled over a bicycle rack and she had to run around it, but made it up quickly when he had to hesitate before crossing the street. Her lungs had started to burn, but not as hot as her determination; she would catch him.
Then he'd started playing with her; she felt her hands clench into fists again as she remembered. He'd slowed down a couple of times, glancing back to check her progress, then pouring on the speed as she neared. Anger had lent wings to her feet, and the fire in her lungs was nothing compared to what she envisioned she would do when she caught him.
He'd made a quick turn between two classroom buildings, and she'd felt a flare of triumph. If she remembered correctly, the alley emptied into a long fenced parking lot, the entrance at the far end. He wouldn't be able to scale the fence before she reached him, and she would catch up with him if he tried to make for the entrance. That thought spurred her even faster. Their footfalls echoed in unison against the buildings as they pounded past....
And that's when it had happened.
They'd reached the parking lot, and his stride had checked for a moment as he saw the cars, then the high fence beyond. Instead of slowing, or turning to make for the entrance, he'd looked back and smiled. Smiled! Then he'd shouted in a voice tinged with laughter.
"Can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man!"
Before she had a chance to process what he said, he'd vaulted onto the hood of the car before him, and jumped....
He sailed over the row of parked cars and the high fence with room to spare, landing with a rolling tumble on the other side.
She'd skidded to a stop, catching herself on a nearby car as he picked himself up. He'd met her incredulous gaze for a moment, then winked, blowing her a kiss before jogging up the street as if he had all the time in the world.
And here she stood, trying to believe what she had seen, and having a *very* hard time with it. She almost wanted to laugh; she could hear her own voice in rebuttal. *Nobody can jump a row of parked cars and a nine foot fence. Even with a running start it would take far more strength than a normal man possesses*
She snorted delicately in self-derision and muttered, "Since when have the past six years been normal?"
Two quick honks of a car horn shook her from her thoughts, and when she looked up she saw the familiar sedan approaching. She saw two people inside, and sighed. She couldn't talk to Mulder about this in front of anyone. It would sound crazy enough just coming from *her*, let alone in front of a bystander.
*You mean accomplice. He called her by name...she knows him. How could she be protecting him?*
She pushed her speculations to the back of her mind as they pulled up to the curb and got out. She would definitely talk about this later. She turned and faced the pair as they approached, and paused as Melissa held out a can of iced tea.
"Here," she said, "Electrolytes and all that."
"Thanks...." She took the can, giving the girl another searching look as she popped it open.
Mulder shot Melissa a look of his own, then looked down the walkway where she had chased the suspect. "Is this where he went?" He started to walk towards it, and she felt a stab of panic. She couldn't let him go back there just yet, she had to talk to him before....
She turned to Melissa, who was watching them both. "Ms. Stevens, you're free to go, but I must ask that you remain on campus in case we have any further questions." Mulder stopped in his tracks at her words.
*Good*
She fished a card from her coat pocket and handed it to her. "If you have any further contact with this man, please call us."
The girl took the card, tucking it away in a pocket, and looked back up at her. "No problem....what did he do?"
Mulder interrupted at this point, his voice a bit harder than his usual drawl. "In using your car, he may have made you an accessory to rape."
Melissa blanched at his words, and Scully couldn't help but feel for her a little, someone who seemed to trust everyone to be burned this badly. Mulder continued, pressing the "bad cop" angle. "If you know anything about this, I suggest you let us know now, and maybe make things easier for you when we finally do bring this guy in."
The girl nodded, wide-eyed, taking a step back from Mulder's angry gaze, then flushed as she hefted the bongos onto her shoulder. "We'll talk, okay? I just have to get a few things together." A cloud passed over her features even as the sky darkened with threatening weather. "You know where to find me."
Mulder watched her as she turned and headed back towards the west side of campus, his expression as stormy as the sky. She broke the silence before the rain began. "Let's go find a hotel. I need a shower, and then we need to talk about this."
He nodded, his gaze still following the girl. "Something's going on here, Scully."
"I know." She felt her lips curve up as he looked at her in surprise. "We'll talk after we're settled in."
**********
He watched them head back to their car with a soft smile on his lips, then nodded to his student as she came around the corner. He sensed her mood before he saw her frown, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Easy, now...what is it?"
"They said he raped someone, Loren, and he used my car the night he did." Her voice held an equal measure of hurt and anger. "I told you he was trouble--"
He smiled soothingly at her concern. "Peace, Moonshadow." He slipped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him as the thunder rumbled closer. "You know how things get exaggerated when we're involved. People don't want to believe." He looked back across the campus, and saw that the car had pulled away. "In this case, however, things are a bit more complicated." He sighed. "These aren't small-town cops that have a backlog a mile high. We'll have to tread very carefully."
"Do you really think he did it, Lor? You're his mentor, you know him better than the rest of us." He heard the hope in her soft voice, and his heart was glad for it. Of all his students, she was the one he knew would do more with her passions than "just do it". Still, hope could only be stretched so far before that trust was broken.
"I don't know...but we have to find out before the FBI." The first fat drops started to fall, and they trotted quickly to a small, covered pavillion. "What were their names?" he asked as she shook the water from her short hair.
She wiped the rain from her cheeks and smiled despite her troubled manner. "They were beautiful names....Fox Mulder and Dana Scully." Her voice had an almost reverent quality as she spoke the names, then turned as wry as her grin. "You'd think people named Fox and Dana would be a little more attuned to these things..."
She continued to talk, but he didn't hear what she said, so powerful was the memory that surfaced at the name, as if suddenly cut free from the anchor that had held it deep within him. Now it filled his consciousness so completely he forgot the rain as it pounded down on the pavillion. The smell of the dying leaves beneath them, the bite of the chilly autumn air, the warmth of her body....He started to laugh at the turn of the wheel that had brought her back to him. It was so perfect....
"Loren, this isn't a laughing matter! We have to find him, and find out what really happened that night!"
He stopped quickly, hearing the distress in her voice, and smiled at her shining eyes. "Hey, no tears." He reached out and caught the first one as it trailed down her cheek. "It's not a lost cause. Your Dana Scully is more attuned than even she realizes, trust me."
She took a deep breath and let it out, and by the time she'd done it three times, she was calmer. "If you say so, brother."
He tipped her chin up and gave it a little shake. "And I do say so." He looked out at the pouring rain. "You go back to your dorm, talk to the others. See if anyone's seen our wayward child." He caught her nod from the corner of his eye, yet she paused. "What is it?"
"What if he did do it?"
There was a tremor to her voice, and he smiled gently as he remembered the first time he thought something like that, when he realized that even their number were just as capable of monstrosity as of goodness. He slid an arm around her shoulders again, leaning down to rest his cheek her damp hair. "Then, Moonshadow, we will deal with our own."
She nodded against his lips, her murmured "I understand" barely audible over the rain. He gave her a quick squeeze, then let her pull away. "Now go find the others and track him down."
She nodded, her shoulders straightening, her smile returning. "I'll find him, and we'll get it all straightened out."
He ran his hand through his curly hair as she stepped away, brushing the long locks back from his shoulders. "That we will."
As she pelted through the rain towards her dorm, he shoved his hands into his pockets and sat down to wait out the storm. He chuckled as the newly-surfaced memory bobbed to the front of his mind again. "My sunshiny Day.....I wonder if you remember me."
"You can go past this, thanks." The security computer tech nodded at Scully's prompt and the tape sped up, accelerating the Reverend's movements to a comical flailing.
"You have to admit, Scully...the man has the powah!" She didn't have to turn to see Mulder's grin. "He raised over $150,000 that night." He clasped her shoulders in his hands for a moment. "Demons out!"
Scully's lips twisted into a wry grin at Mulder's antics and elbowed him softly. "It's not hard to get people to do something if they think you have something they need." She turned and looked up at him from her seat. "In the case of the Reverend's viewers, they believe Canfield has a touch with God that they don't. They will empty their wallets just for a piece of that, and he uses his charisma to make them think that he'll speak to God for them."
"Stop it here," she told the tech as the speech ended, then looked back at her partner. "In the case of these people, he alters his sermon to make those who have money feel guilty for their riches, as it is not the humble lifestyle the Lord appreciates. They'll ease their consciences, empty their checking accounts and get a tax write-off all in one fell swoop. No muss, no fuss, no commitment."
*And in your case, Mulder, your hope of finding your sister is the ring in your nose by which the Smoking Man leads you.* She paused a moment as she pushed that thought to the back of her mind. *Too many parallels, Mulder...am I the only one to see them?*
She sighed. "It's sad how easily people with hope can be led, and that there are people like Canfield ready to lead them for their own selfish gains." She sighed, thinking of more than just the Reverend's jilted flock as she spoke the last. "But we didn't come out here to debate ethics, or strength of faith." She looked back to the tech again. "Okay, play it from here."
They watched the five different screens as the party began, the sound from the speakers tinny as the music started and people began to get up and mingle.
"You said that this was when he approached her?" Mulder leaned forward to watch as she nodded in reply. The three of them watched the sulky teenager silently as she picked at her food and looked idly at the crowd.
She felt the heat of her partner against her back as he leaned forward to point at the upper corner of the screen. "There," he said, "See him? He's watching her."
Scully followed his gaze and saw that he was right. He was standing off to one side, sipping a drink and watching her. He fit the sketchy description too; with his tall frame and dark wavy hair, this could be their man. *It certainly fits with the Devil description as well...he even has a goatee*
They focused on him for another minute or so, and watched him take a glass of champagne from a waiter and approach her table. "Stop it here." The tape froze as he handed Christine the drink, catching his smiling face in the frame. "The description fits with what Christine remembers....can we zoom in and get a printout of that picture?"
"Sure thing, Agent Scully." The tech highlighted the young man's image and clicked the PRINT button. The inkjet machine whirred to life and the picture emerged a half-inch at a time.
"I'll get Chuck to sharpen it up for us." Mulder resumed his seat and she glanced back at him, remembering the intrepid photoanalyst from other cases.
"You will tell Chuck that it's just a photo, right? Nothing else?" She felt her eyebrow arch, this time with amusement.
Mulder mock-pouted as he grabbed the printout. "You're no fun. How else am I going to feed the man's hobby?" She chuckled softly and nodded to the tech to start the tape again.
They watched as the two talked, with nobody else seeming to show interest in Christine. She sipped some champagne and took his offered hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor. "Well, so far it fits with what she told me." She looked at Mulder, who was watching with a puzzled expression. "What?"
"I'm just wondering why all the photographers are still snapping pictures of the Reverend and his contributors and not capturing this Kodak moment." He nodded to the unmolested couple, swaying against one another, oblivious to the crowd. "The tabloids would give a fortune for a photo like that; you saw how they jumped all over the story after it happened. How come none of them saw the beginning of it?"
Scully watched a little more carefully and saw that it was true. Nobody seemed to be watching the couple at all, least of all the photographers. She grew even more puzzled as the couple went to the bar and were served without a second glance. She knew the Reverend would have left specific orders *not* to serve Christine alcohol. This certainly made things more interesting.
She had to admit, with his handsome looks and obvious style, it would be hard for Christine or any teenager to resist this young man. *That doesn't make him innocent of date rape* she admonished herself. *You've met many a handsome monster in your younger years as well.* As Christine and her new friend sat at a nearby table and talked, Scully wondered what he was saying to her, what he was promising to get her away from there.
Whatever he said must have worked, however, because she glanced nervously at her father's table about ten minutes later, then at the door. He leaned forward and whispered something, and Scully tensed as Christine smiled and nodded.
Scully was reminded suddenly of what she did when she watched a favorite movie, praying that the hero didn't take that one step that led to certain disaster no matter how many times she knew that he did. She prayed that Christine would come to her senses, even as she watched them walk to the door, the girl's fingers twined with his, then watched with surprise as nobody acknowledged that Reverend Canfield's daughter was leaving with a stranger. "What the hell...?"
"My feelings exactly." Mulder pointed to the stone-faced bodyguard that stood not ten feet from the exit, oblivious to their departure even as the pair walked by him. "You think he's still employed by the Reverend?"
"I don't know.....can we see the valet parking video now?" Scully looked at the confusing array of VCRs and monitors and located the archive for the valet drop-off even as the tech grabbed it. "If he dropped his car off, we can find the plate number from the valet records."
Mulder watched as the tech slid the tape into the VCR and hit PLAY. "That is, if people even remember him being there."
The tech fine-tuned the images as the video began. "Well we have him on camera, and I can zoom in and get a plate number, record or not." He began to play the tape on a higher speed, slow enough to see the people getting in and out, but fast enough so they wouldn't be there all evening.
"Hey, you wanna catch Sigfried and Roy after this, or walk over and see the pirate show?"
Scully looked back to Mulder's grin with one of her own. "What, no drive-thru wedding with Elvis as the minister?" She pointed soberly at her partner, as he appeared to consider the suggestion. "No."
"But--"
"Here he is."
They both ceased the banter and leaned forward at the tech's summons, and saw the smiling face of Christine Canfield as the now-familiar young man walked her around to the passenger side of a dusty Jeep Grand Wagoneer. Her step was unsteady, and Scully knew by the girl's silly grin that she was at least tipsy, if not full-blown intoxicated by this time. *Strike two, mystery guest. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor* "Can we get a plate?"
The tech highlighted the fender of the big wagon, and blew out his breath in frustration as the image enlarged. "Dammit....there's a dirty dust cover on the plate. I can't see anything."
Mulder shrugged. "We can check with the valet's records and hope for the best."
"Wait." Both men turned to her curiously. "Go to the right....zoom in on the fender. There's a sticker on it...see if you can sharpen that up."
"What, you looking to find out if he wants to save the whales?" Mulder watched as the tech went to work enlarging the image, already arranging his papers into something portable.
Scully said nothing as the image began to coalesce on the screen, and as it cleared she smiled. "Bingo."
"What?" Mulder tilted his head at her smile, the glanced at the screen. "What is it?"
"Something that Christine told me about what he said to her made me remember....it's been so long, I wasn't sure I remembered right, but this confirms it." She tapped her finger to the screen and the small square sticker on the bumper. "UCB. This is a parking sticker for University of California at Berkeley."
"How do you know?" Mulder squinted at the image.
"Christine said that her attacker teased her about worshipping a golden bear instead of a golden calf. Berkeley's football team is The Golden Bears." She suppressed a smile at Mulder's surprise.
"How do you know *that*?" Even as he asked, she saw the realization dawn. "Right....freshman year at Berkeley...physics major."
She nodded. "California, here we come..." She paused as Mulder looked at her strangely. "What?"
He winked at her. "Just trying to imagine you in a tube top and love beads."
The computer tech snorted in laughter, and she pulled Mulder out of the room by his tie.
**********
Scully fumed silently, her eyes closed in weariness. *All those hotels in Vegas, and we end up here. I'm going to kill him.* She sat up on the bed, trying *not* to look at the mirror above her, and reached for her suitcase.
She declined to unpack, as the dresser drawers looked more suited for a domicile for vermin than a place to put clothes. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and headed for the miniscule bathroom. After a moment's glare at the toilet and sink --no shower-- she began to get ready for bed. *I'm going to kill him.* The memories of the evening filtered back to her travel-fogged brain, and as she brushed her teeth she started to sort through them, something she would have done earlier if she hadn't fallen asleep in the car.
First, they'd shown Christine the stranger's picture, and her wide-eyed, wordless nod confirmed that the goateed youth was who they were looking for. After a few more questions, she told them that she remembered a big car that sat high on the road, which was consistent with the Grand Wagoneer they'd seen in the video. Canfield had thanked them for the information, and they'd left to question the hotel staff.
"Yeah, I saw him...had a real knockout with him too. Tall brunette, legs goin' on for miles!" The bartender had barely glanced at Christine's picture before shaking his head. "Nope, he was with the brunette all night. *Man* was she something!"
The valet's account was just as puzzling. "Yeah, I remember that Jeep...he kept that old thing tuned like a piano. The girl that was with him had trouble getting in."
"Because she was drunk?"
"No, because she was short. Cute little redhead in a short skirt, she had a problem getting in, ah, shall we say modestly?" He'd looked at Scully, taking in her diminutive figure and dress, and had the good grace to blush and mumble an apology before they thanked him and left.
They'd even treated the now-unemployed bodyguard of Reverend Canfield to couple of drinks. He'd shook his head when they'd showed him the picture. "I would have seen anyone trying to leave with her, 'specially someone like him. The Rev, he left me specific instructions to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't drink and didn't leave with anyone. When I saw she was gone, I figured she went up to her room." He looked at them, an earnest, lost expression on his face. "I don't know why I didn't check....but I guess that's why I got fired. I should have been watchin' her closer." They'd left him to his regret with heavy hearts and no closer to answers than they were when they'd left the security office.
Then Mulder suggested heading out to California that night to get a jump on the drive. Tired and hungry, she had agreed when he said they'd stop for something to eat as soon as they got on the road. And now, to her regret, they were here, at the irritatingly named Hotel California. Mulder was grinning when he woke her to show her what he'd found.
"Such a lovely place...." He'd said. If she hadn't been muzzy from her nap, she would have punched him.
Now, as she shed her blouse and skirt and pulled on the soft cotton pajamas, she tried to sort out the answers they *did* get. How, if everything they saw on that video was what happened, did everyone else see this young man with someone different? Could this be an organized attempt to discredit the Reverend? She sank to the sagging mattress and lay back, turning quickly on her side and wishing she could put a cover over that damned mirror.
There was another issue on her mind....Berkeley. She'd been back there once since she transferred with her family to Maryland, and it was quite an experience. A lot of memories had surfaced as she'd walked around the campus, some of them pleasant, some of them not, all of them things that she thought she'd left behind.
She remembered her diligence and focus on her physics classes; her parents had sacrificed a lot to give her the chance to go to a big university, and she wasn't going to squander it on partying and slacking off. Those were long study nights in her dorm room, mostly alone as her roommate seemed intent on drinking away her freshman year.
It was a month into the semester that things changed, when she looked up from her books and began to really listen to what was going on around her. All these people in one place, all of them voicing their opinions and all of them ready to debate until they dropped about it. She had been nearly dumbstruck with the realization that this was not her house, where her father's rules and opinions were law. This was a place where she could voice her ideas *and be heard* instead of trying to shout above her brothers and sisters' voices.
She could practically taste the pizza she'd been offered (Hawaiian) when she joined one of the activist groups for a discussion on nuclear power and weapons. The debates had been numerous, and had lasted long into the night. She had devoured every bit of information she'd been given, believed every "educational" brochure she read on the subject, and every day she learned more and more about what the military was doing with the power of the atom. What her father was doing every day when he went to work.
She remembered that Thanksgiving break, and coming home with her soul afire with new ideas, *different* ideas that she knew would make waves in her "smooth-sailing" family. She remembered her anticipation all the way home. And they thought *Melissa* was a handful.....
She remembered the hot tears that burned down her face as she stormed out of the house that first night, her throat sore from shouting, crescent-shaped nail marks so firmly pressed into the heels of her hands that she'd nearly broken the skin. Bill and Charlie had shouted right back at her, good little Navy brats, standing up for what their country had done at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. She didn't care about their anger; from them she was used to it. What had made her cry was the hurt she saw in her father's eyes, the disappointment in her that had rendered him speechless in the face of her tirade. Her heart had ached for what he must be feeling, wondering what had happened to his daughter, the one she knew was his favorite.
She remembered her surrender, how she'd gone back and apologized to Ahab, and her soul had cracked when she saw the gap she'd opened between them. The love would always be there, but the knowledge that she'd somehow tarnished his image of her stayed with her even now.
But she also remembered laughing her troubles away with her new-found friends at a local microbrewery, getting drunk from "tasting" the various flavors. She could almost smell the rich flavor of the thick stouts....
And a brisk October night under a star-filled sky, soft hands stroking her body and a beard-scratchy smile against her cheek as she surrendered to her long-repressed passion.
So many mixed feelings, so many memories surfacing that she'd thought were long-buried after she decided to go to medical school. They'd poked their heads up when she was here a few years ago, and now they were investigating on campus. She was still wondering what the next day would bring when she fell asleep.
**********
His daughter was in a sedative-induced slumber when the man arrived for his instructions.
"You have what I need?"
The Reverend held out a computer printout, obtained by the hotel security tech. It was amazing how easily secrets were divulged with just a slight application of authority. He would have to phone his lawyer to cover the tech's hospital bills, plus a generous amount delivered to his home both to keep him quiet and to let him know that he knew where he lived if he didn't keep quiet.
The man took it, looking at the smiling face for only a second before putting it inside his coat. "How you want me to work this?"
The headline swam before his eyes as he replied quietly. "Make it look like an accident."
"Where do I start?"
**********
"University of California at Berkeley," Mulder read the sign aloud as they entered the campus proper. "My mother used to say that it was too small to be a city-state and too big to be an insane asylum."
Scully's lips barely curled upwards, and he sighed to himself. He had hoped to get at least a smile out of her before they began the investigation, but it looked as if it was futile. His partner had been strangely reticent, even though his attempts at conversation on the way here. After the first hour of trying, starting with "I Spy" and ending with "99 Bottles of Beer", he'd just given up and turned on the radio.
Now, as they drove slowly along the road, classic rock playing softly on the speakers, she watched out the window at the kids playing frisbee, the group sitting in a circle and talking, and a pair of musicians, a scruffy brown-haired young man on the guitar, and a pretty blonde on the bongos. He watched Scully watching them, and wondered as he did a few years ago what her college experience had been like. She'd never told him about her college years, and while he was certainly content to let her have her privacy, it still nibbled at him on occasion.
What was she like back then? Looking at her now, he found he couldn't picture her as anyone but the woman that sat beside him. Anyone else that he'd known in her family he could picture as younger, even as children, with little difficulty.
Melissa, the pretty dreamer blowing dandelions and skipping rope. Growing to a coltish, then beautiful young woman that drove the boys crazy.
Bill Jr., teasing the girls and playing baseball, his shoulders growing broad even as he shot up to tower over his classmates.
Even Maggie, picking flowers and skinning her knee on the playground. Becoming a rock of stability to her family and children.
But Scully....he sighed inwardly as he even used her last name in his thoughts about her, even so far as to be startled when someone called her "Dana". He wondered if Scully had *ever* been a child, let alone a teenager or college student. He supposed that if he'd known her father, he'd probably have the same dilemma. She was just...Scully, so self-possessed in life, in work, even in grief. He wondered if she'd ever let herself go, really let her feelings show through the walls he saw in her eyes sometimes. He was still mulling it over as he eased the car into a parking spot near the campus security.
Scully came out of her reverie as he turned the car off, and for a second she paused, seeming suddenly far off as she looked over at the security building.
"You okay?" He knew what the answer would be, but at least she would say something.
"I'm fine." She gathered the papers together into the manila folder and reached for the door handle. He watched her with growing curiosity as they headed for the small building, wondering at the memories that must be returning for her.
The blue-uniformed man looked up at their entrance, his large hands straightening the papers he was looking at as he rose. He was tall and reasonably fit, which surprised Mulder. When he thought of campus security, he pictured a uniform straining over a paunch, of a face twisted with bitterness of dreams of law enforcement unrealized. With his blue eyes and honest smile, this man looked as if he would be just as comfortable on a surfboard as well as behind this desk. He blinked out of his introspection and reached for his I.D. as the man spoke. "Can I help you folks?"
He and his partner flipped open their wallets with an eerie synchronization and Mulder nodded. "Special Agents Mulder and Scully, we faxed in a request on a parking sticker that was issued this year?"
The officer, whose name tag read "Pritchard", raised his chin in recognition. "Oh yeah. The secretary got the fax and passed it along." He went back to his desk and picked up the papers that he'd been reading, handing them the third sheet in the stack. "There you go, I ran the number that you sent. Hope that helps, Agents."
Scully grabbed the paper, and he saw her brow furrow in confusion as she looked in the file they'd brought with them. "Something wrong, Scully?"
She passed the paper to him, and Mulder felt his own brows draw together as he read the name of the registrant: Melissa Stevens. He glanced at Scully, who was double checking both the picture of the car and of the sticker that they'd lifted from the parking video in Vegas. "Is this the right car?"
"If it's a 1982 Jeep Grand Wagoneer, it is." Pritchard smiled. "I remember that one too....little thing like her driving a beat-up boat like that. She called it 'large and in charge'."
"All these kids coming in and you remember her?" He didn't even need to look to see that arched eyebrow as Scully spoke up, her "skepti-brow", as he called it.
Pritchard smiled even wider. "She was the only freshman to ask for my telephone number." He chuckled. "She was something."
"Have you ever seen her with this man?" Mulder showed him the photo of the suspect, and the man shook his head slowly.
"Nope, haven't seen her much at all...or him." He nodded to Scully. "Like you said, it's a big campus. I have my hands full with kids who *do* get in trouble. She's kept her nose clean, or I'd remember seeing her."
Mulder squinted at the blurry copy of the girl's drivers license, but couldn't get an idea of what she looked like other than 5'2"/blonde/blue that was listed on the card. It was no matter, he had her campus address and phone number, they could--
"Do you have a copy of this year's Student Directory?" He and Pritchard both looked over at Scully, and the officer nodded. Scully looked back at him, and must have seen the curiosity in his eyes. "It's to help the freshman get to know each other, get an idea about where everyone was coming from, their majors, a way to bond."
Mulder nodded at her explanation, and suddenly knew what he was going to look for before they left California. Pritchard handed her the thick book with a smile. "You an alum?"
She shook her head with a soft smile as she flipped through the smiling faces. "I spent my freshman year here before I had to move. I remember this, though." She patted the glossy pages as she flipped through it. She stopped on a page near the back, and after a second, she pointed, moving so that he could see the picture. "Here she is, Melissa Stevens, Tulsa, Oklahoma, Environmental Science major."
Mulder looked at the face, grinning impishly for the camera, and suppressed the urge to smile back. He gave himself a little mental shake, chastising himself for the slip. Her car was used in the commission of a crime; just because she made people smile didn't make her any less of a suspect. Still, the face was familiar, and he closed the book quickly. "I know where we can find her." Scully looked at him, and he smiled. "She likes the bongos."
He saw her puzzled look clear as she remembered the two musicians at the foot of the steps, and she nodded, then smiled at the officer. "Thank you for your help, sir." Mulder raised his chin in farewell as they walked out.
He smiled at her as they headed back to the car. "So, they keep the Student Directories in the library?"
She chuckled back at him, and he gave a mental cheer at the gleam in her eye. "You'll see it when we find the Devil at Berkeley." Mulder just smiled and started the car.
As they made their way back to where they saw Melissa, he took advantage of her suddenly talkative mood. "So if your family hadn't had to move at the end of your freshman year, would you have stayed here?" He looked at the sunny day outside, at the bits of campus life. "There's a lot to like from what I can see."
A glance saw her tilt her head to one side, considering her answer, then a small shake of her head. "No...no, I don't think so."
When she didn't continue, he asked. "Didn't it have enough to offer? The curriculum, the faculty...." He trailed off as he spotted the pair again, and a parking space nearby. He almost missed her reply as he nosed the sedan between the lines.
"I think it offered more than I was ready for."
He felt his eyebrows brush his hairline as she got out of the car, and muttered to himself as he followed, "Curiouser and curiouser."
The two students looked to be taking a break, laughing and talking to each other as they relaxed in the afternoon sun. The boy was dressed in thrift-store finery, carpenter pants, a t-shirt with a Hot Wheels iron-on decal, and the requisite Birkenstock sandals. His brown hair was wavy and pulled back in a ponytail, and his hazel eyes gleamed as he laughed at something the girl said. A well-worn guitar rested across his lap.
The girl, whose open smile revealed her to be the girl they were looking for, was dressed in the same causal style, an old army jacket over a U.C. Berkeley shirt, faded wide-leg jeans and a pair of hiking sandals. She wore a silvery choker around her neck, and friendship bracelets festooned both arms from her wrists to her elbows. Her sun-bleached hair was mussed, but she didn't seem to care as she raked a hand through the short platinum mop. Between her knees sat a set of bongos, a strap attached to each side for easy transportation.
The two looked up as he and Scully approached, their smiles fading into wary curiosity as they reached them. Mulder couldn't blame them. With their suits and manner, he and his partner were obviously here on Official Business, which Scully confirmed as she addressed the girl. "Are you Melissa Stevens?"
The girl peered up at them over the edge of her Lennon shades; her eyes were a clear blue. "That's me. Are you the Prize Patrol or something?" she asked, her smile softening the sarcasm into charm. Her voice had a soft drawl, not enough to brand her a "hick", but enough to remind him how falsely the Reverend's accent rang.
Her smile faded again as they both flashed their credentials. "I'm Agent Dana Scully, and this Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions...?"
She cast a glance at the guitarist, who caught the hint and got to his feet. "I'll catch you later, Moon." He tugged at a lock of her hair playfully, and she winked at him.
"Not if I catch you first, brother....seeya!" She watched the young man lope across the quad, then turned back to them. "All right, ask away."
Mulder looked at Scully, caught her small nod and smiled down at the girl. "You know a good place where we can score a couple of sodas?"
Her eyes widened. "They TOLD you?"
He paused for a second. "Told us what, exactly?" He tensed, ready to grab her if she decided to bolt. Maybe she did know why they were here...
She grinned at their reaction and winked at him. "That I knew the vending machine that will give free Cokes. I'll show you." She leaped lightly to her feet and slung the bongos over her shoulder, and he and Scully moved to either side of her as they headed toward a nearby classroom building.
"You know, you guys have great names," She said as they opened the door for her. "Did you know that Dana is a goddess in certain circles?"
Mulder suppressed a grin at Scully's wry, "I hadn't heard."
She nodded, her smile widening at their quiet amusement. "It just fits...especially with your partner." She turned her charming smile to him. "It would take a goddess to tame a Fox."
Scully shot him a glance, and Mulder felt the heat rise in his cheeks at her "taming" look. He shook his head at the girl's chuckle as they escorted her to an empty classroom. "Have a seat," he said, "We can talk in here."
"Sure thing." The girl moved to the teacher's desk and hoisted herself onto it, letting the bongos slide to the floor with a soft wooden "thud". Mulder wondered if she chose that spot on purpose; in order to keep the figurative "upper hand", he and Scully would have to remain standing as they questioned her. A glance at Scully saw that she was thinking the same thing. "So," she said, "What's the buzz?" She took off the shades and tucked them into a pocket.
Mulder took the cue, pulling out his notebook for effect, though he wasn't sure if his "dumb cop" act would fly as well with her as it had with the Reverend. "Do you own a 1982 Jeep Grand Wagoneer?" Scully stood to one side, while he took a seat at one of the student desks.
She nodded. "I do." She replied, her gaze open and curious. "Did I miss a ticket?"
"Were you driving it last Friday night?" Scully countered, forcing the girl to shift her gaze to her.
She shook her head. "No, I was on campus. Me and Jeff...he's the guy I was with today...we perform together at a local cafe." She shrugged. "But that doesn't mean it was parked. I own it, but a lot of people have the keys."
"Why is that?" Mulder took his turn, genuinely curious.
She shifted her gaze again, her lips tightening just a bit, fading her friendly demeanor enough to show Mulder that she knew exactly what they were doing. "Not a lot of freshman have cars. I do, but I rarely use it. I gave a bunch of people sets of keys, so long as they fill the tank and keep it in good shape. So far no problem.....but then you wouldn't be asking about it." Her brows drew together in puzzlement. "What's happened?"
"We're going to need the names of all the people who have sets of keys, Ms. Stevens," Scully pulled out her notebook and a pen, continuing their route around the desk.
Melissa sighed, looking towards the ceiling as she thought. "Lessee, there's Doog, Jeff, Mike, Cory, Oz, Gina, Andrew, Bill, Hale, Mary, Grace...."
"Do any of this vast list resemble him?" Mulder held up the printout of their suspect.
As she leaned over to glance at it, they heard the sound of footsteps approach the classroom and a young man poked his head in. He smiled at the girl. "Hey Moonie, I was just looking for--" He stopped mid-sentence as he saw she wasn't alone.
Everyone froze.
Mulder's eyes widened as he recognized the newcomer. The young man was dressed far more casually today, but the smile, the hair...he was the one they were looking for. The young man's gaze flicked from the picture in Mulder's hand to his face, and that shift in attention released everyone from their surprised paralysis.
The young man bolted, the soles of his sneakered feet slapping at the tile as he ran.
"Stop right there!" Scully shouted, sprinting out the door after him. Mulder leaped to his feet and started to follow her.
The door slammed shut in front of him, even as he heard another noise to his right. He grabbed the knob and pulled hard, but the door wouldn't budge.
"Can't let you do that, sorry...."
He looked over at Melissa, forgetting until he heard her voice that she was even there, and saw her standing against the closet door, her back to it and pushing hard. He gave a stronger yank at the door, and felt it give a bit--
--just as the closet door opened a bit. Melissa shoved herself back, her rear slamming the closet door with a jolt--
--and the classroom door slammed so hard it pulled the doorknob from his grip.
"Open this door!" Strange or not, Scully needed backup, and he'd been floored by far worse than this to stop now. A crazy thought flitted through his mind. *Or what? Am I going to charge her with Illegal Use of Door?*
Even in the face of his anger, she smiled, seemingly in response to his thoughts. "How are you going to arrest me for obstruction of justice if you go after them?" Her body relaxed just a bit. "He won't hurt her, and she can't catch him."
He stared at her, incredulous at her smile, her quiet defiance. She met his gaze with a slight shrug. "He's lost her already, I'll bet."
As if on cue, his cel phone bleated at him, and she walked back to the teacher's desk as he grabbed it. "Mulder."
Scully's voice was breathless. "I lost him, Mulder....I'm on....the east side....of campus."
His jaw clenched at her words, and he looked over at Melissa, who was gathering her things. "Stay there, Scully. I'll come pick you up."
"Right..." Still panting, she cut the connection before he could say any more. He shoved the phone back in his pocket, feeling the headache start as he regarded her. "How did you know?"
Her smile was sympathetic. "You've never seen him run."
He turned away before he said something he'd regret and gave the doorknob another yank. This time it opened easily, and headed down the hall toward the glowing red "EXIT" sign.
"Hold up!"
He stopped, not looking back. He didn't want to think about what she'd done back in the classroom. Scully was waiting for him, and he was damned if this girl would delay him any longer than she had already. He heard a metallic *thunk*, and turned around as two more followed the first, his curiosity winning over his frustration.
Melissa stood at the vending machine, and now cradled three cans of iced tea against her chest. She hurried to catch up with him, and met his hands-on-hips glare with surprised indignation. "What? She's gonna need it, isn't she?"
He whirled and made for the car, forcing her to keep up with his long, angry strides if she didn't want to be left behind. To his annoyance, she managed it easily, the bongos bumping against her hip. She slid into the back seat of the car, and thankfully kept quiet as he cruised the campus in search of his partner.
**********
Scully leaned against a building as she waited for Mulder. It hadn't taken her long to regain her breath, but regaining her composure...that would take a bit longer. She shaded her eyes with her hand, staring out across the road beyond the parking lot, the road where the suspect had escaped.
She looked, unbelieving, at the dusty sneakerprint on the car's hood. Footprint. Singular. Not a set of tracks as he ran across the hood and roof of the car...just one footprint, then nothing.
"I had him..." she said to herself. "I *had* him."
And she had. He had gotten a headstart when he first bolted down the hallway, but as he reached the front door he'd skidded and nearly fell, banging out the door awkwardly before regaining his footing. She'd reached the door before it closed, shouting the familiar battle cry of "Federal Agent!" as she leaped down the steps. As she'd closed in on the suspect, she'd thanked herself for continuing her workouts at her local gym, and her mother for pointing her towards the Easy Spirit store to buy her work shoes.
She'd lost a bit of ground as he hurdled over a bicycle rack and she had to run around it, but made it up quickly when he had to hesitate before crossing the street. Her lungs had started to burn, but not as hot as her determination; she would catch him.
Then he'd started playing with her; she felt her hands clench into fists again as she remembered. He'd slowed down a couple of times, glancing back to check her progress, then pouring on the speed as she neared. Anger had lent wings to her feet, and the fire in her lungs was nothing compared to what she envisioned she would do when she caught him.
He'd made a quick turn between two classroom buildings, and she'd felt a flare of triumph. If she remembered correctly, the alley emptied into a long fenced parking lot, the entrance at the far end. He wouldn't be able to scale the fence before she reached him, and she would catch up with him if he tried to make for the entrance. That thought spurred her even faster. Their footfalls echoed in unison against the buildings as they pounded past....
And that's when it had happened.
They'd reached the parking lot, and his stride had checked for a moment as he saw the cars, then the high fence beyond. Instead of slowing, or turning to make for the entrance, he'd looked back and smiled. Smiled! Then he'd shouted in a voice tinged with laughter.
"Can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man!"
Before she had a chance to process what he said, he'd vaulted onto the hood of the car before him, and jumped....
He sailed over the row of parked cars and the high fence with room to spare, landing with a rolling tumble on the other side.
She'd skidded to a stop, catching herself on a nearby car as he picked himself up. He'd met her incredulous gaze for a moment, then winked, blowing her a kiss before jogging up the street as if he had all the time in the world.
And here she stood, trying to believe what she had seen, and having a *very* hard time with it. She almost wanted to laugh; she could hear her own voice in rebuttal. *Nobody can jump a row of parked cars and a nine foot fence. Even with a running start it would take far more strength than a normal man possesses*
She snorted delicately in self-derision and muttered, "Since when have the past six years been normal?"
Two quick honks of a car horn shook her from her thoughts, and when she looked up she saw the familiar sedan approaching. She saw two people inside, and sighed. She couldn't talk to Mulder about this in front of anyone. It would sound crazy enough just coming from *her*, let alone in front of a bystander.
*You mean accomplice. He called her by name...she knows him. How could she be protecting him?*
She pushed her speculations to the back of her mind as they pulled up to the curb and got out. She would definitely talk about this later. She turned and faced the pair as they approached, and paused as Melissa held out a can of iced tea.
"Here," she said, "Electrolytes and all that."
"Thanks...." She took the can, giving the girl another searching look as she popped it open.
Mulder shot Melissa a look of his own, then looked down the walkway where she had chased the suspect. "Is this where he went?" He started to walk towards it, and she felt a stab of panic. She couldn't let him go back there just yet, she had to talk to him before....
She turned to Melissa, who was watching them both. "Ms. Stevens, you're free to go, but I must ask that you remain on campus in case we have any further questions." Mulder stopped in his tracks at her words.
*Good*
She fished a card from her coat pocket and handed it to her. "If you have any further contact with this man, please call us."
The girl took the card, tucking it away in a pocket, and looked back up at her. "No problem....what did he do?"
Mulder interrupted at this point, his voice a bit harder than his usual drawl. "In using your car, he may have made you an accessory to rape."
Melissa blanched at his words, and Scully couldn't help but feel for her a little, someone who seemed to trust everyone to be burned this badly. Mulder continued, pressing the "bad cop" angle. "If you know anything about this, I suggest you let us know now, and maybe make things easier for you when we finally do bring this guy in."
The girl nodded, wide-eyed, taking a step back from Mulder's angry gaze, then flushed as she hefted the bongos onto her shoulder. "We'll talk, okay? I just have to get a few things together." A cloud passed over her features even as the sky darkened with threatening weather. "You know where to find me."
Mulder watched her as she turned and headed back towards the west side of campus, his expression as stormy as the sky. She broke the silence before the rain began. "Let's go find a hotel. I need a shower, and then we need to talk about this."
He nodded, his gaze still following the girl. "Something's going on here, Scully."
"I know." She felt her lips curve up as he looked at her in surprise. "We'll talk after we're settled in."
**********
He watched them head back to their car with a soft smile on his lips, then nodded to his student as she came around the corner. He sensed her mood before he saw her frown, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Easy, now...what is it?"
"They said he raped someone, Loren, and he used my car the night he did." Her voice held an equal measure of hurt and anger. "I told you he was trouble--"
He smiled soothingly at her concern. "Peace, Moonshadow." He slipped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him as the thunder rumbled closer. "You know how things get exaggerated when we're involved. People don't want to believe." He looked back across the campus, and saw that the car had pulled away. "In this case, however, things are a bit more complicated." He sighed. "These aren't small-town cops that have a backlog a mile high. We'll have to tread very carefully."
"Do you really think he did it, Lor? You're his mentor, you know him better than the rest of us." He heard the hope in her soft voice, and his heart was glad for it. Of all his students, she was the one he knew would do more with her passions than "just do it". Still, hope could only be stretched so far before that trust was broken.
"I don't know...but we have to find out before the FBI." The first fat drops started to fall, and they trotted quickly to a small, covered pavillion. "What were their names?" he asked as she shook the water from her short hair.
She wiped the rain from her cheeks and smiled despite her troubled manner. "They were beautiful names....Fox Mulder and Dana Scully." Her voice had an almost reverent quality as she spoke the names, then turned as wry as her grin. "You'd think people named Fox and Dana would be a little more attuned to these things..."
She continued to talk, but he didn't hear what she said, so powerful was the memory that surfaced at the name, as if suddenly cut free from the anchor that had held it deep within him. Now it filled his consciousness so completely he forgot the rain as it pounded down on the pavillion. The smell of the dying leaves beneath them, the bite of the chilly autumn air, the warmth of her body....He started to laugh at the turn of the wheel that had brought her back to him. It was so perfect....
"Loren, this isn't a laughing matter! We have to find him, and find out what really happened that night!"
He stopped quickly, hearing the distress in her voice, and smiled at her shining eyes. "Hey, no tears." He reached out and caught the first one as it trailed down her cheek. "It's not a lost cause. Your Dana Scully is more attuned than even she realizes, trust me."
She took a deep breath and let it out, and by the time she'd done it three times, she was calmer. "If you say so, brother."
He tipped her chin up and gave it a little shake. "And I do say so." He looked out at the pouring rain. "You go back to your dorm, talk to the others. See if anyone's seen our wayward child." He caught her nod from the corner of his eye, yet she paused. "What is it?"
"What if he did do it?"
There was a tremor to her voice, and he smiled gently as he remembered the first time he thought something like that, when he realized that even their number were just as capable of monstrosity as of goodness. He slid an arm around her shoulders again, leaning down to rest his cheek her damp hair. "Then, Moonshadow, we will deal with our own."
She nodded against his lips, her murmured "I understand" barely audible over the rain. He gave her a quick squeeze, then let her pull away. "Now go find the others and track him down."
She nodded, her shoulders straightening, her smile returning. "I'll find him, and we'll get it all straightened out."
He ran his hand through his curly hair as she stepped away, brushing the long locks back from his shoulders. "That we will."
As she pelted through the rain towards her dorm, he shoved his hands into his pockets and sat down to wait out the storm. He chuckled as the newly-surfaced memory bobbed to the front of his mind again. "My sunshiny Day.....I wonder if you remember me."