Petting Zoo
Washington DC
Two beady eyes stared at the huge red furry thing above it, daring it to out-stare him. He shifted back and forth across the cage, sniffing hopefully for the food that would sometimes miraculously appear without warning.
"I once saw a man fit seven live ferrets down his trousers."
"Really. How many ferrets can you fit down your pants Mulder?"
"Depends on the weather."
Scully looked up from the cage in which the little animals darted around. One golden yellow guy sniffed cautiously at Mulder's outstretched finger.
"What are you doing here?" Scully fed Buster a small treat. "It's not like you to attend charity events. And, since you didn't call me on the cell, I can safely assume one of three things. Let me guess, either a) something horrible has happened and we're leaving, b) something horrible has happened and you're leaving to do something incredibly stupid, or c) something horrible has happened and you're not telling me everything."
"Scully, you know more about me than anyone I've ever known. You know everything about me. Well, except maybe the Scissors Incident."
Scully cast him a quizzical stare.
"Did you know that fifty percent of all ferret deaths are due to mechanical parts in reclining chairs?" asked Mulder looking up from a pamphlet he was examining.
Scully gave him The Look.
"OK," Mulder, tossing the brochure back on the counter what do you know about the Land of Mu?"
Scully sighed a weary drawn out and melodramatic sigh. She turned back to stroke Bailey on her head.
"No really, Scully, I'm serious."
"Mu: Ancient lost land that is the counterpart of Atlantis but in the Pacific. Supposedly was destroyed or sank by disaster," she droned, slightly bored.
"Ancient South Amerindian legends give many accounts of the land."
Scully picked up Brewster by the scruff of his neck and dangled the ferret in front of Mulder's face. "All of those accounts were forged by some lunatic in the eighteenth century. All records and folklore were conveniently destroyed by the Spanish missionaries. It doesn't exist Mulder, so drop it."
Brewster dangled placidly, letting Scully rub his tummy, and yawned.
"Scully, Mrs. Fitzroy wrote me another letter the other day. I got it this morning. She claims that her unborn son's father was a man from Mu."
"Mulder, if we investigated every story from Mrs. Fitzroy, that would be half of our cases. She makes something new up every week! She watches way too much television."
"She was found this morning in her home in Ohio. She was shot in the back of the head. She was six months pregnant."
Scully, very slowly, put Brewster back in the cage.
"There's more Scully," Mulder went on. "A neighbor heard the shots and saw a man leaving her house. His description matches that of Krychek."
