ACT THREE

ACT THREE - PART ONE

Scene 1 - FBI Headquarters

Having reached the middle of the afternoon, the FBI agents were once again all reunited in Skinner's office for a debriefing session, a takeaway party, and preparation for the end of the day.

Decision had indeed been taken to attempt setting a trap this evening, even if the odds were largely against them and if they obviously had a major lack of task force.

They would have a chance to officially open a case, soon.

Leyla -thanks to the help of the victim's relatives- had been able to quietly diffuse into the mind of some of the women the idea they would have to complain. But this was a long and tough work that had just begun.

Mulder had then urged them to do something meanwhile -anything in their capacity, however paltry it could appear. In four days was Women's Day, convincing Mulder that the perpetrators -as it seemed now that a bunch of devious guys were involved- would necessarily operate, probably on a larger scale. They had acted yesterday on Mrs Gem, they would presumably continue this evening and each day this week.

Furthermore, in order to gather deeper information, the fitness clubs would need now to be visited and properly investigated.

But, presently, all the agents were just busy filling their stomachs while relaxing and chatting.

Skinner had finally made Holly join them, as she had expressed to him that she was eagerly willing to help tonight. These two were sitting side by side, and the way they were acting together was revealing an intimate bond that Mulder and Scully hadn't suspected prior to this day.

Mulder, immensely glad to be reunited with Scully, bent his head and murmured in her ear: "Baldy Skinman and Pretty Holly, what a lovely couple."

"I'm afraid Leyla feels lonely, seated alone, too far away from us," replied Scully, whispering back close to his face.

"She seems OK. Look, she's busy texting... to her hubby and her kids, I guess. She should have been with her family today."

"You're right. She surely has a lovely home to come back when it's finished," sighed Scully.

Mulder squeezed Scully's hand in his own.

"I'm sure we would have spent the evening watching a soapy movie, drinking beers, then savouring sushi on the couch... If we hadn't been expelled out of our deserved quiet Sunday," he said.

"Soapy? Sushi?"

"Well, whatever you would have wanted to, Scully. It was your turn to choose."

"Indeed."

And then, Scully bit fiercely in her huge meaty burger.

"I sense that you are in a sushi vibe, these days," Mulder muttered after a little while, his mouth full of greasy fries.

"How come?"

"My gut, Scully."

Scene 2 - FBI Headquarters

Mulder was pacing the hallway, anxiously waiting for Scully.

She had disappeared just after their quick early-diner, leaving all of them on an impulse and promising she won't be long.

He wondered what was in her head to act so strangely. And she hadn't told him, or any of them, anything except she won't be long. Wasn't she aware of his state of mind today? That he was worried this case could ultimately shake them, if not affect them intimately?

Mulder stopped, checked his watch, didn't feel relieved and sighed heavily. A sudden hand tapping his left shoulder made him startle.

"Don't be so nervous, Mulder," said a low voice behind him.

Skinner.

Mulder turned around and shrugged.

"Yeah, you're right. Always keeping me guessing," he replied. "Why bother?"

"Go and take some fresh air," Skinner advised.

"Right... Rather some fresh water to cool my high-pressure head."

In long strides Mulder headed to the restroom. He indeed needed to release his body in many ways.

After having drenched the urinal and cleansed his hands, Mulder flushed his face and neck with cool water at the sink. Feeling better, he stood in front of the mirror, observing his face.

What was Scully seeing when she was staring at him? Was she noticing his deeper wrinkles? His thickening features? His more pronounced drooping eyelids? Did that really matter? He hoped she just could see him the way he wanted to be perceived. Obviously aging and changing but confidently wiser and mature. Undoubtedly severely presbyopic -he'd have to really face it and buy new glasses- but still eager to overuse his eyes to marvel at the wonders of the world, to look for the tiniest brightness into darkness, and to endlessly send sparks of love and admiration towards Scully.

And wasn't he one of the luckiest men on Earth to have still thick hair on his head? Healthy teeth? Whole playgrounds being at hand -and mouth- just for her.

Also, under his hair and skull, was a brain that had suffered a lot and gone through chemical imbalance, yet was still functioning so well. With time, it had even softened and fattened, settling into the warmness and coziness of regular oxytocin baths, and becoming less sensitive to the adrenaline shots it was addicted to in its youth.

Aging had definitely some advantages and he would be an idiot not to acknowledge them when they were displayed face to face.

A buzz made him blink and woke him up from his self-enchantment.

He quickly read the text that had been sent. 'Coming back very soon. I got you a workout outfit.'

So, that was it? A mere matter of workout outfits?

Now, he really needed to follow Skinner's advice and get some fresh air.

Ten minutes later, Mulder was pacing the underground parking of the Hoover building, still waiting for Scully, but not anxious anymore -he was just slightly impatient. He also had obviously given up the idea of freshness. This quality was really lacking in the stagnant air he was breathing.

Five more minutes later, the quintessence of freshness was walking towards Mulder, almost making him lose his whole mind and breath.

He definitely should have gotten some fresh oxygen before haunting the parking lot.

Scene 3 - FBI Headquarters - Parking lot

The first thoughts bursting into Mulder's mind were all spooky ones, coming directly from the outskirts of his reptilian brain, a location that was prompt to jump into the most paranormal explanations -because it was just the way it had been shaped for decades.

Mulder thought of parallel universes, time travels, fountains of youth or witcheries. He was even waiting for the sudden appearance of Rod Serling telling him he had entered another dimension. Another dimension of mind blowing. Another dimension of sight.

For this was Scully walking quietly and voluptuously in his direction, except that it wasn't the Scully he had seen earlier.

For the Scully he was staring at was sixteen years younger.

For the Scully who had stopped a few inches in front of him was the one he had known when they were outlaws and on the run. When they were only two against the world and beyond. When one single spark in Scully's eyes was instantly setting him on fire. When they were relentlessly moaning and coming out loud under starry skies in the middle of nowhere.

Mulder closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, trying to call back the blood that was dangerously heading down his body, trying to make his vital fluid flood his brain instead.

He really needed to buy new glasses.

When he opened his eyes, Scully was smiling at him, seemingly satisfied by her effect.

Focusing his sight on her face and her head, Mulder updated his judgement. Scully wasn't sixteen, but ten years younger -was it less insane?- and she definitely had new hair.

"Mulder, it's me," Scully said.

"Yeah, if you say so."

"Come on… Stop staring at me like that."

"It's just that... you're such a sight to behold."

"You know what we say, all is in the eye of the beholder."

"Rod, step out of this body!"

"Wait, what?"

"The Twilight Zone, Scully. You made me enter in an episode of The Twilight Zone."

"Ah… Maybe in one of the revivals. Look at us, we are not black and white."

"Well… Your hair is black, and I'm sure my face is white. All the blood has been drained… elsewhere."

Scully took Mulder's right hand in her spare left one -she was holding a sports bag in her right- and led him towards the elevator.

"A shame we don't have time..." she replied once they walked, "To enjoy your elsewhere."

"Then, what's the point, if not making us relive our glorious performances on the run?" Mulder asked.

"To become an unrecognizable bait, in her early forties."

"I thought Holly was meant to be the one."

"There's room for the two of us. We would be able to split our team and share the task."

"Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Yeah. I wanna catch these bastards."

They entered the elevator and stood side by side, facing the mirrored side. Scully was adjusting a couple of strands from her wig and was checking her rejuvenating make-up -she had learned some useful tricks, back in the days, when they had been outlaws.

"Scully, you didn't need this disguise. You're still looking so young," Mulder said, contentedly gazing at her reflection in the mirror.

"Flatterer," Scully answered with a wide smile.

When they arrived on the right floor, the sound of the opening door made Mulder land back on Earth and in the reality of their investigation.

"Scully… What if I lose concentration… What if I'm not able to be focused because your attire and features are blurring my mind?" Mulder asked, concerned by whatever could happen wrong to Scully.

Scully stopped the already shutting elevator door with her foot, locked Mulder's eyes and took a serious tone.

"I always trust you to save me, Mulder."

ACT THREE - PART TWO

Scene 1 - Four Seasons Fitness Club - Washington DC

Scully couldn't deny that she was having fun despite the seriousness of the situation.

She had always liked to exercise her body but had never -or sparsely- practice in such conditions. Showing off her athletic physique and her muscular calves in a room filled with other sweating bodies. Under the sight of dozens of strangers.

With all Mulder's eyes on her as she was working out.

Two accurate eyes that were discreetly watching her back -in many ways- as she was doing her best to attract men's attention. Trying to mousetrap devious men who couldn't stand women like the image she was portraying -like her, minus a few years.

That was an enjoyable feeling. For a little while.

Because she couldn't keep on thinking of Mulder's presence for too long. Because, soon, she couldn't help thinking about these bastards and their victims.

Scully was conscious that they were taking an improbable gamble. What were the odds that she, a newbie in the club, would drag attention and would lure these men if they were ever there? That they wouldn't be highly suspicious?

And how was she supposed to convey the whole supposed subtext making her a perfect potential victim?

'Hey, don't you see I'm the archetype of a successful and independent woman, who doesn't give a shit about your archaic viewpoint on women, does whatever she wants to in her life -professionally and personally- and will never be interested in your pathetic person?'

Well, maybe that wasn't too hard to advertise because that was exactly her.

Scene 2 - Four Seasons Fitness Club - Washington DC

Mulder couldn't deny that he was enjoying the situation despite his concentration.

He was at ease training his muscles, sweating and exhibiting his good -god?- sculpted body within this spacious temple of fitness worship. Though, it was too bad he had to keep a low profile, to remain at the back of the room and avoid drawing attention to himself. Avoiding the sight of dozens of strangers.

Avoiding being stared at by Scully who was working out in the center of the room and had to ignore him.

But bound to be all eyes on her. Compelled to watch her lovely back and admire her perfect legs and muscular calves moving up and down. Letting his visual brain imagine Scully's smiling face while making efforts, and picture her exquisite chest squeezed in a tight T-shirt.

That was indeed pleasurable and thrilling. For a little while.

Because he couldn't keep on daydreaming about Scully for too long. Because, soon, he couldn't help thinking about these bastards and their victims.

Mulder knew that they were playing with luck and happenstance. Betting they had chosen the right places -Holly and Skinner in other ones, Leyla backing them up and supervising- at the right moments. That they could count on Mulder's hunches -like choosing this first Four Seasons Club because of its catchy name- and on the stupidity and heedlessness of these guys.

Yet, these men surely weren't that idiot. And they were dangerous. That was a risky game their undersized FBI team was playing at.

Scanning the whole room for the nth time, Mulder suddenly felt a side stitch when laying his eyes on a few men that had gathered far away in a corner. He instantly knew that the stinging pain wasn't due to exercising but had this special sharpness and tasteness of a gut-hunch.

And Mulder was always trusting his gut -with or without glasses.

Scene 3 - Outside the Four Seasons Fitness Club

The short dead-end alley was dark, smelling bad and trash dirty. How could it be possible such a decor would exist in such a posh neighborhood?

Mulder had tailed the three guys spotted a moment ago, and, after moving along obscure corridors leading to the back of the building, he had landed in that shabby space. Seemingly empty.

It was smelling bad and not good at all.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to properly communicate with Scully when he had left his treadmill. Now, he was worrying he or she would be mousetrapped.

It was indeed stinking and he was smelling a rat.

Walking nevertheless a few steps forward -because his freaking Fox gut told him so- a chilly movement of air made him shiver, the sweat moistening his bare arms and legs freezing in an instant.

He would be damned to have followed his intuition without care. He would be punished to have let his youthful impulses override his mature cautiousness.

All that because Scully had undeniably fogged part of his ripe mind.

He knew he had made a wrong move before even seeing or hearing any of them. He knew he was concomitantly putting Scully in danger before any imminent peril showed its ugly face.

And that realization hit him harsh in his heart.

As he was instantly overpowered in this dark alley, all he heard was ruffled noises and a 'TOM!' war cry; all he saw through tears of self-anger and helplessness were limbs, hands, blurry faces, and letters on red caps.

'MMGA.'