Authors Note: There's quite a bit of MSR in here, mostly later in the chapter. But I haven't gone into much more of the case. This is a fairly long chapter compared to the others anyway… Hope you like, please R&R, I want to know what you think!

Chapter Four:

Mulder opened the apartment door slowly, not really sure what he was expecting to find. Scully edged around him and into the apartment, because he just stood frozen in the doorway. She covered her mouth and turned and smacked straight into his chest. He hugged her close. He'd never really seen Scully react like this at a crime scene, and it made him worry, not for the first time since they'd read the case file. What if she got too close on this case?

"I'm sorry," she muttered, embarrassed, she pulled herself from his grasp, and turned around. Even though she wasn't facing him, he knew she was putting on a brave face, she always did. "I'm just a bit tired after our long car trip and all…"

"Do you want to wait until tomorrow?" She shook her head, and walked further in. A pile of toys sat where someone had left them, and a walk phone lay on the floor where the mother had most likely dropped it. Scully looked around and noticed the phone line had been cut. She shuddered to think how utterly terrified and helpless Tricia must have felt when she realised she couldn't contact anyone to help her.

"Why do you think the killer chooses single moms?" She questioned, looking to the floor where a large puddle of blood had soaked into the carpet, a few splatters of blood on the white walls. She looked to the couch; she recognised it from the crime scene photos. It was where the little girl had been sitting when she was strangled.

"I have given it a great deal of thought about that. I've come to the conclusion it's a father, who's lost a custody battle… Maybe he sees his ex-wife and child in every one of these people. Or, I think that's where we should start anyway."

Scully's eyes widened in surprise, and admiration... He'd come up with that fast, and it had nothing to do with aliens, or the paranormal, but when she looked at him she realised he was joking. He continued anyway…

"Before you say there's nothing paranormal about my theory – I also have a theory on how this victim died." He pointed to the blood, and then to a piece of broken vase. "Maybe it's someone like Pusher. Maybe he made her stab herself with that, and that's why there are no prints here other than the victims, because she did everything." She nodded, he wasn't joking about the second part.

"I would agree with you, I'd even go as far to say if there was someone else who had abilities like Pusher's. Tricia could have strangled her daughter, and then killed herself. But there are problems with the theory."

"The daughter died second," Mulder said thoughtfully.

"And it's impossible to stab yourself from that angle yourself, and how could you remove your uterus while you're bleeding to death? You just can't. And what on earth happened to it?"

They looked around the apartment, but found nothing that wasn't in the case file. Mulder led a pale Scully to the car, and decided it was time to find somewhere to stay, and get them some food.

"We could stay at that Motel I saw, next to Roxys Diner." Scully suggested. Mulder agreed, and drove straight to it, he noticed Scully smile as the parked, but didn't ask why she was smiling.

"Its pretty, this town; almost too perfect?" she said, the smile still on her face. "I don't mind perfect little Motels like this though," she said as she got out of the car, and she gestured towards the Motel building, and then the gardens beside it.

"Roxys Diner must get a lot of money in from the tourists staying here," Mulder commented as he grabbed his bags. Scully grabbed hers, but didn't answer – she seemed to be lost in thought, looking out at the pretty gardens, and the stone path running through the garden.

Scully decided as soon as she'd had dinner, she was going for a walk to clear her head. Then she was going to have a good night's sleep, and really start this case so they could find the sick person who did this. No more getting emotional, because it wasn't going to help them solve this case.

--

"Hey the guy at the office didn't mistake us for a married couple – that must be a first," Scully called from her room. They'd left the door connecting their rooms open.

"Could it be the fact that you still had your FBI jacket on? He looked pretty intimidated."

"Could be," she answered with a laugh. She found some comfortable clothes to wear, and was half way through pulling on her black pants when Mulder appeared in the doorway. "Hey, you could warn me when you're coming in." She pointed out.

"Do you have any toothpaste? I forgot mine." He pretended he hadn't heard her, and seemed to be searching her body for the toothpaste.

"Did you even hear me?" She asked doing the buttons on her pants up, and slipping a blue jersey over her head that matched her eyes.

"Yeah, Scully... I've seen you naked on more than one occasion – does it really matter if I see you getting dressed?" She rolled her eyes, he was right of course. But he should still respect her privacy. She was about to tell him so, but he turned his eyes to hers, and she realised he'd been kidding. "Sorry Scully, I'll warn you I'm coming in next time," she laughed with him, and chucked him her toothpaste from her toiletries bag.

"This place is nice, I like my room." She commented as she lay back on the bed while waiting for Mulder, who had chosen to use her bathroom since it was closer.

"Mm," he said through, what she guessed, was a mouthful of toothpaste. She heard the tap running, and then he came in and lay on the bed next to her. "Yeah, it is nice."

She looked around the room, painted a burgundy red with a quilt on the bed to match. The paintings on the walls were of a pretty little cottage and the other of a border collie, its tongue lolling out to the side, the black and white coat of the dog stark contrast against the bright green of the grass it lay on. She didn't usually pay much attention to paintings, but both seemed to call attention to her. She'd never been in a motel that everything was so clean. She touched the silky quilt beneath her with her fingers, and let out a contented sigh. The case forgotten for the moment…

--

"That was the best pasta I've ever had!" She exclaimed as they reached her room later that night.

"Yeah, I have to say – that steak was pretty damn good." But before he could take the conversation any further, she made a quick decision to get him out of her room.

"Goodnight Mulder," she said and pushed him from her room and through the adjoining door so that she could finally go for a walk through the gardens. He gave her a funny look, but said goodnight, and shut the door. She tip toed across to the door, even though she doubted he'd hear her, and clicked the door shut softly behind her.

The cool night air felt nice against her skin and with a full stomach and a beautiful Motel room to go back to tonight… Her best friend, and possibly the man she loved right next door to her – which was better than the arrangement back home… She felt happy. She wandered around the garden, the stars and the almost full moon lighting the path perfectly.

She sat down on a seat next to a small pond. A couple of ducks quacked sleepily, and swam over to her, the water rippling around their bodies. She watched as they squabbled over who got out of the pond first, obviously they thought she had food. She nearly leapt out of her skin when Mulder slipped into the small gap on the chair next to her, and she shuffled over a little making room for him.

"How did I know you were going to come out here?" He watched the ducks waddle up to their feet.

"How did I know that you were going to scare the hell out of me again?" She retorted.

"I don't know… Are you psychic?" They sat in silence for a few minutes, until she felt his fingers entwine with hers. She looked down at their hands, and then up at him. She was surprised, recently he'd been holding her hands, and hugging her a little more intimately than before.

She knew they were attracted to each other. Hell, everyone thought they'd been sleeping together since the first week they had begun working together. But the fact that Mulder initiated all the contact so far surprised her to say the least. She lifted their hands and looked at them.

"Mulder,"

"Yeah,"

"What's this?"

"Well that's my hand, and that's yours." He joked, but he looked at her eyes, and smiled sheepishly.

"No I mean us. I mean this… Oh I don't know." She said, feeling flustered and hoping he couldn't see the blush tingeing her cheeks. Why, when it was important – could she not get the right words out?

"You don't seem to mind," she leant her head against his shoulder.

"I don't mind, at all."

"Then what's the problem?" She decided, no matter how awkward this could make things, the truth was better.

"Protocol Mulder… How can we follow FBI Protocol? It is too much of a temptation for both of us."

"You think we may live up to the rumors?" He said with a chuckle. But when she pulled her head back so she could see his face, he just had a serious expression on his face. "I don't think AD Skinner would mind. Actually, I have a feeling he thinks we're sleeping together as it is." She turned her face into his shoulder and smiled.