Disclaimer: No infringement intended.
Chapter 5
Saturday
Scully slapped the top of the alarm clock three times in a futile attempt to silence the insistent ringing before she realized it was her cell phone. She felt Mulder's weight against her body as she reached out for the phone and flipped it open to answer it without checking the caller id.
"Hello?" her gravel laced voice crocked out.
"Agent Scully?" A. D. Skinner's voice called to her. "It sounds like I woke you."
Scully squinted at the alarm clock, checking the time before she answered. "Well, yeah, it's only 7 a.m. here sir," she squirmed out from under Mulder's weight and rolled over to stare at his slumbering form.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't take the time zone difference into account. Well, that explains why Mulder isn't answering his phone. I hadn't heard from either of you and wanted an update on the case," Skinner stated flatly.
"I think Mulder is out for his morning run," Scully replied as she shook her partner slightly. She watched his eyes open slowly and put her finger to her lips to keep him from making any loud sounds. "Unfortunately sir, we haven't really made any headway. We've a couple of leads, but it's a work in progress," Scully replied, as she watched Mulder stretch like a cat next to her.
"Considering the San Diego PD worked the case for seven months and didn't have a lead it's not surprising," Skinner said.
"Well, I hope we aren't out here investigating this for seven months," Scully retorted.
"No, I would hope not as well. I think the Deputy Director would have some concerns whether you two were actually working the case or just playing house if it dragged on that long," Skinner said. "Okay, well, I didn't mean to wake you. Just be sure to have a progress report to me via email by Monday morning, Agent."
"Certainly sir," Scully replied. "I'll be working on our case notes later today." She closed the phone and stared at Mulder as he shook the morning cobwebs out. "Hey, sleepy head," she called to him softly as he opened his eyes again.
"Aghh, what day is it?" he growled, twisting his back opposite his knees in another stretch.
"Saturday."
"Just Saturday? Geezus, is this assignment ever going to end?" he muttered in frustration and rolled over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling in silence for several seconds until Scully broke the silence.
"Whatcha thinking 'bout?" Scully asked him as she traced her finger down his chest.
Mulder looked over toward her and sighed. "Nothing... What did Skinner want?"
Scully sighed and pushed herself into a sitting position. "He wanted a progress report."
"Ha! Yeah, I'd like one, too. One that had some substance to it instead of Dear Diary: I have no clue." Mulder laughed and shook his head. He paused for a moment and sat up. "I'm going for a run. You wanna go with me?" He turned and looked back at her, expecting her answer to be no. She didn't disappoint.
"I think I'll pass, Mulder," she replied as she stretched her arms over her head. "I'm going to do the laundry and clean the house instead."
"Okay," he mumbled as he stood up and walked to the dresser. "Suit yourself."
The thoughts dancing through Mulder's mind during his run were not of his beautiful partner, or on the mystery of the case. He was preoccupied with one thing… the lone piece of quiche he had spied in the fridge when he left on his run. It was all he could think of during his prance through the neighborhood. He could taste its cheesy goodness all warm and bubbly on the tip of his tongue. It made his mouth water in anticipation as he jogged up the driveway and punched in the key code on the garage door entry. He walked triumphantly into the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator door ready to claim his prize only to find the quiche was missing.
"Aw no!" he mumbled under his breath as he pushed some leftover dishes around inside the fridge, frantically searching for the food item. When he didn't see it, he closed the door and looked over at the counter, scanning for any signs of the plate it had been sitting on in the sink or on the counter top. He even stepped over to the dishwasher and looked inside to see if Scully had stowed the evidence there. When he found no trace of the dish, he headed up the stairs, dejected, but armed with accusations ready to level at Scully.
He found Scully in the bathroom brushing her teeth, still dressed in her pajamas. So much for her doing the laundry and cleaning the house, he mused to himself. Go ahead, act all coy and innocent, he thought as he stared at her standing at the vanity. He could feel his emotions getting the best of him … He was irritated that she ate the quiche …but it wasn't just the quiche that was ticking him off. Perhaps it was suburbia, or his lack of sleep the previous night, or the never ending-no leads case or maybe it was just because he was sick of being nice. Whatever the case, today he was just going to be in a funk. The honeymoon is over, he thought quietly.
"Mulder, who ever taught you how to squeeze a tube of toothpaste?" Scully yelled at him once she saw his reflection in the mirror.
Mulder took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Excuse me? Lady, you do not want to go there with me today, he thought as he walked across the room. He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and threw it across the room at the hamper. It missed. He shrugged his shoulders indifferently and walked into the closet to stare at his clothing choices. "What's wrong with the way I squeeze the toothpaste? I put pressure on the tube until the gel comes out and then I smear it onto the brush. It's not rocket science," he replied curtly.
Scully scowled at his tone. "By doing it that way you cut off the supply of toothpaste. When you squeeze from the middle, product gets stuck at the bottom and doesn't come out, which ultimately means you waste money buying more toothpaste."
Mulder rolled his eyes at her argument and sighed heavily. "Well, I beg to differ with you, I have never had an issue emptying the tube of toothpaste nor do I really care how much money I spend on toothpaste."
"You're kinda testy this morning," she remarked. She stared into mirror and the splashed water on her face.
"I just don't appreciate being chastised by you about how I squeeze the toothpaste, especially considering that you ate my breakfast," he retorted. He pulled a pair of jeans off the shelf and grabbed a yellow golf shirt and its hanger off the rack. He walked out of the closet and headed over to the dresser to retrieve his boxers and socks. .
"Excuse me?" Scully questioned as he crossed the room. "What are you talking about? I haven't even left the bedroom since you went on your run."
"Right," he muttered as he opened the dresser drawer and picked over his options lying in the drawer. "Then explain to me how the last piece of quiche was in the refrigerator before I left on my run, but now it's suddenly not there."
Scully walked out of the bathroom to face him. "Mulder, I didn't eat the quiche."
Mulder stared at her in disbelief. Does she think I'm stupid or something? Of course she ate it! "Scully, you can admit it if you did. It's not that big of a deal."
Scully put her hands on her hips. "I'm not lying. I did not eat the quiche. I honestly have not left this room since Skinner's phone call."
"Oh, so much for your ... 'I'm going to do the laundry and clean the house' excuse then," Mulder blurted out. "If you didn't want to go on the run with me you should have just said so. You don't have to lie about it," he said deadpan. His voice was raised slightly and he suddenly felt very hot.
"You think I'm lying to you now? Okay! Fine! I didn't want to go on the run with you. And for your information I was cleaning the bedroom, not that you would ever notice, I even ran the vacuum cleaner!" Scully fired back at him, eyes blazing with anger.
"So now I'm a slob?"
"Well, if the shoe fits," Scully retorted and headed back into the bathroom. "And while we are on the subject, when are you going to get it through your thick head to put the toilet seat down?"
"Why should I?" Mulder grabbed a bath towel out of the linen closet and walked away from her. He left the room and headed down the hallway to the second bathroom.
"Because it's gross," Scully yelled after him in the hallway.
Mulder stopped in the doorway to the second bathroom and yelled back at Scully who was in hot pursuit of him in the hallway. "No, No, No … It's only gross because you obviously weren't paying attention, sat down on the rim and your cheeks had a close encounter with the water!" He slammed the bathroom door to escape her pursuit. "Don't blame that on me, Dana!"
A look of shock crossed her face. Dana? Since when are we on a first name basis? She was mulling it over in her head when she realized he was still yelling at her from behind the closed bathroom door.
"And another thing … why can't you do something about your hair all over the bathroom floor and in the shower drain. You think I'm a slob? Everyday I have to sweep up your hair and clear out the shower drain. If it wasn't for me, you would have had to call Roto Rooter by now to clean the clogged drain!"
"My hair is not long enough to clog the drain," Scully replied defensively. "You must have confused it with your chest hair!" There was silence from the other side of the door. After a few seconds the only sound that could be heard was the flush of the toilet followed by the sound of the shower.
Scully stared at the morning newspaper reflecting on the domestic squabble she had just had with Mulder. Was I being bitchy? she thought to herself as she perused the front page of the paper. Of course I was bitchy … It's a tube of toothpaste for chrissake. Who gives a crap how it's squeezed? she mused to herself as she tried to figure out the real reason for their fight.
"I think this place is getting to me," she whispered to no one as she leaned back in the chair. She closed her eyes and replayed "the" relationship conversation she and Mulder had had through her mind.
It wasn't the case or the cookie cutter neighborhood that was getting to her. It was the ugly green monster that burned inside her veins … her jealousy of Diana. Scully couldn't put her finger on why she couldn't stand that woman. Maybe it was the smug grin that was plastered on her face all the time or the fact that she was exactly Mulder's type and had everything in common with him. Mulder had even admitted to Scully that there was still chemistry between them. So was it really Diana that made Scully crazy, or Mulder? She trusted him with her life but was she ready to trust him with her heart?
After she had stormed out of the loft, Scully had driven aimlessly for a while and had let her imagination get the best of her. She talked herself into believing that Mulder had run to the security of Diana's arms after their fight in the loft. Diana never questioned him or challenged his theories, so it would be natural for him to seek solace in her … arms, bed …whatever. When it was confirmed that he had gone to Diana's apartment, Scully turned to someone for comfort as well, someone from her past that seemed all too eager to give it. Ethan.
They had dated off and on for a couple of years before she was paired with Mulder. The relationship had ended after Scully started spending all her time with Mulder on "cases". Through the years, they had always stayed in touch, so when her heart was breaking after "the" fight and when Mulder didn't seem interested in reconciling Ethan was her easy substitute. But for the all reasons that Diana seemed the perfect compliment to Mulder, Ethan was the exact opposite. He was too much like Scully, too controlling, too overbearing, too OCD as Nester had put it. Ethan was a likable guy in small doses, but long term exposure chafed her emotions and annoyed her.
As Scully mused over Ethan and Diana, she continued to flip through the newspaper. A photograph of a couple walking together in a park caught her eye and her mind drifted back to the conversation with Mulder about the "skeletons in her closet."
"I don't understand why you let her get to you like this Scully. It's not like you don't have any former lovers lurking around in your closet."
"That's different."
"Exactly how is that different? If I remember correctly you went to dinner with that TV guy … what's-his-name …Ethan…before we left on this case," Mulder had questioned her.
"I don't want to sleep with Ethan, he and I are strictly friends."
"You slept with him once."
"Yeah, eons ago … before I met you."
A light bulb went on in Scully's mind. How did he know I went to dinner with Ethan? I never told him … unless … oh my god! Scully could feel her heart beating in her throat. She had gone to dinner with Ethan the night before they left on the case, but she hadn't given Mulder all the details. She had just told him that she was going with a friend. To make sure Mulder didn't see anything on his way home, she had arranged to meet Ethan a block away from the parking garage in the opposite direction that Mulder usually traveled. At the time Scully had chided herself about the lengths she had gone to make sure Mulder didn't find out who she was having dinner with but was grateful after she walked up to Ethan's car. Ethan had surprised her with a bouquet of roses, pulled her into his arms and laid a deep, lip smashing kiss on her. The whole episode had embarrassed her at the time. As she recounted the scene in her head, she felt her cheeks become hot and could sense her ears turning red. Mulder saw him kiss me … Holy shit! I'm such a hypocrite! Mulder runs to Diana, I run to Ethan … the results are the same! I'm bitchy, I'm OCD and I'm a hypocrite! Mulder's feet pounding on the stairs pulled her out of her reviver. She watched him carefully over the edge of the newspaper, suddenly feeling like a complete idiot.
"Do you want to go to a movie tonight?" she blurted out of nowhere, surprising herself. It was a peace offering of sorts for everything she had done in the past few months.
"Nope," he replied blankly without looking at her. He walked to the laundry room, retrieved his Doc Martens, and then walked back to the stairs to slip them on.
"Why not?" Scully asked him, staring him in the face.
"Because we're on assignment and one of us needs to stay at the house at all times," he remarked. He put on his shoes and stood up from the stairs, looking for his car keys and the door opener.
"Mulder! That's bull," Scully said. "We've been on assignment before and gone out to a movie."
"When we had solved the case, we haven't solved anything yet," he muttered under his breath. He found the keys hanging on the memo board by the fridge and the remotes in the basket underneath. He pushed his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and walked to the garage.
"Where are you going?" Scully asked watching him walk out of the kitchen.
"Out." He walked to the garage and climbed into the jeep as the garage door went up.
"Out where?" There was no response from him. "Mulder!" Scully yelled at him as she chased him to the garage. "You could at least have the decency to tell me where you're going, as I have all this week!" Scully stared at him from the doorway of the laundry room with her hands of her hips.
"I'm going to get some breakfast since you ate the quiche." He started the Jeep up, put it in reverse and backed out of the garage leaving Scully standing in the doorway.
"I did not eat your friggen breakfast!!" she yelled at him, emphasizing each word as she said it. As she watched him drive down the street she muttered under her breath, "Idiot!" Ironically, Scully wasn't just commenting on Mulder's behavior.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Mulder was away from the house most of the day, leaving Scully to tend to house duties, laundry, cleaning and unpacking. She worked on their case notes for about an hour and then emailed the file to Assistant Director Skinner. About 5:00 pm Scully decided she needed to get some fresh air. She had beat herself up mentally most of the day for starting the fight this morning, for accusing Mulder of sleeping with Diana, and for just being bitchy these past few weeks. She decided to go to the movie anyway, alone. She left the house just after 5:00 with a plan of getting dinner, doing some shopping and going to the 7:30 show.
Mulder returned to the house about 7:30 p.m. After he'd had breakfast, he'd gone to the FBI field office to work on his case notes and then spent the afternoon golfing with Nester and his brother in law. Mulder had told Nester he was suffering from a severe case of cabin fever and needed some fresh air. Four hours later, after a mild case of sunburn, multiple mosquito bites and several beers, Mulder was in a much better state of mind. He wheeled the Jeep into the drive way and punched the remote in the cup holder to open the door. As the door opened, Mulder noticed the van was gone, which meant Scully was out of the house. A wave of relief rolled over him as he exited the Jeep. He was not in the mood for another confrontation.
Mulder walked into the house and made his way into the living room. Hmm, she cleaned the place, he thought as he sat down on the couch. He opened the file folder that he had carried with him from the car and flipped through his case notes again. After an hour, he turned the TV on and channel surfed mindlessly for what seemed like forever. He looked at his watch and noted the time. 9:30. Where the frick is Scully? he thought as he stood from the couch. He pulled his cell phone from the clip, started to dial her number and then stopped midway through. Frick … forget it Mulder, she'll be home soon enough and the next round will begin. I'll go shoot some hoops until she gets home, he thought and ran upstairs to get a jacket.
The night was clear and the air crisp as Mulder shot hoops on the portable basketball pole on the driveway. The sound of the ball hitting the pavement echoed through the neighborhood as he dribbled and shot non stop for over an hour. The repetitive movement centered him and drove his irritability over Scully's self-righteousness away. I think the toothpaste act was just a cover for the quiche, he thought as he shot from the grass and dribbled the ball. Mulder bounced the ball off the garage door and then went up for a lay up just as the Shroeder's van pulled into their driveway.
Winn Shroeder bailed out of his van and ran over to Mulder's yard like a man on a mission. Mulder watched his approach and tried to toss the basketball to him. He could hear Cami yelling something at him from their yard.
"Hey Winn, wanna play a game of horse?"
Winn caught the ball and threw it into the yard behind Mulder and ran over to the portable hoop. "Dammit Rob, help me get this thing in the garage," Winn said as he started tugging the hoop down.
Mulder ran over and stepped on the base of the pole. "What are you doing Winn?"
"Come on Rob, you gotta get this thing down," Winn replied with a pleading tone in his voice. Mulder noticed the man was as white as a ghost and appeared a little freaked out.
"Why? What's the big deal?" Mulder questioned him, not budging from the base of the stand.
Winn made another feeble attempt to pull the hoop down and then gave up when he realized Mulder wasn't going to move. He looked around with a bewildered expression on his face and then turned back to Mulder. "You've been warned Rob," he stammered.
"Warned about what?" Mulder asked with a laugh staring Shroeder down.
Shroeder was about to answer when Cami let out a blood-curdling scream from the Shroeder's driveway. Mulder immediately went into FBI mode and ran toward the screams, leaving Winn frozen in the driveway.
As he crested the embankment that separated their driveways, Mulder caught sight of a large dark figure looming over Cami. "Stop!" he yelled out as he ran down the hill. The figure turned and ran across the front yard of Shroeder's house and around the corner. Mulder chased the figure around the side of the house and through the backyard. He lost sight of him at the neighbor's lattice fence. He looked around the fence and the corners of the house to see if the subject was hiding in the shadows. Mulder stepped back to scan the yards, looking for any movement in the yards. Where the frick did he go? He looked around the yard again and then headed toward the front of the house to where Cami had been standing.
He found Cami and Winn staring at the yard light with bewildered expressions on their faces. "It looks like he got away. You okay Cami?" Mulder asked, and then noticed that the color had drained from their faces. "Winn? Cami?" He waited a second for them to respond. They were staring at the yard light as if in a trance. Mulder looked up at the light, and other than the bulb being broken, found nothing extraordinary about it.
Movement to Mulder's right caught his attention and he caught Cami just as she fainted next to him. He scooped her into his arms and nodded toward the house at Winn who ran to the front door. Mulder carried Cami's unconscious form into the living room off the foyer and laid her gently on the couch. He put a hand to her throat, feeling for a pulse and found it beating strong and fast. He shook her shoulders firmly and called her name.
"Cami?" Mulder called as he continued to monitor her pulse. "Winn, could you get a me a washcloth … wet with cold water?" Mulder directed as he noticed Winn still acting like he was in shock. He watched the man retreat down a hallway to the washroom and he directed his attention back to Cami.
His years of being partnered with Scully were paying off in this moment, as Mulder attended to Cami. Winn returned quickly with the cold washrag and Mulder placed it on her forehead. He shook her shoulder again and repeated her name, noticing that she was beginning to regain consciousness.
"Cami?" Mulder called to her one final time.
"Wha… What happened?" Cami questioned, not understanding how she ended up on the couch.
"You fainted," Mulder replied simply, not understanding what really had taken place in their yard. There was something or someone standing over her ready to attack when he crested the embankment. But where that thing or person went when he chased it was anyone's guess. Based on their reaction, the trance like state and Cami's fainting spell, whatever it was scared the crap out of them.
"Winn?" she stammered looking around the room frantically for her husband.
"I'm right here, Sweetie," he called on his way back from the kitchen. He had a glass of water in his hand and sat next to Cami on the couch, helping her take a swallow from it.
"Winn, I saw…"
"Shhh, Sweetie," Winn comforted his wife. "It's okay." He shot Cami a look and then looked over his shoulder at Rob/Mulder.
"Thanks for your help, Rob," he turned slightly on the couch to face him. "Thanks for chasing the guy away. I think we'll be okay now."
"Are you sure?" Mulder questioned getting the distinct impression that Shroeder was trying to get rid of him. "You should probably file a police report…."
Winn stood from the couch and put his hand on Mulder's shoulder. "No, really Rob … it's okay. I'm just going to sit with Cami for a while and then get her ready for bed." He walked Mulder to the door while conversing.
Mulder held his ground at the door and tried one more attempt to be helpful. "Okay, well, the least I can do is change the bulb on your yard light," Mulder said with a hopeful smile on his face.
"No, don't bother. I'll get it later," Winn replied nervously as he ushered Mulder toward it again. "Geez look at the time…you should probably get home to make sure Laura's okay."
"Okay…" Mulder started to say as Winn closed the door in his face. "Fricken weirdo," Mulder mumbled under his breath as he took three steps back from the door. He watched Winn return to the couch and sit next to Cami. They were both oblivious to the outside, so he decided to reinvestigate whatever it was that he had just chased through the yard. He fished a flashlight from his jacket pocket and snuck past the front window of Shroeder's house into their back yard.
Scully looked at the time on the rclock radio. 10:35 p.m. Mulder's going to kill me, she thought as she neared their house. On the way home from the movie she had decided to stop for a drink at the Red Truck Grill. The bartender recognized her from earlier in the week, so one drink quickly turned into two. At three, she was feeling a little tipsy. She bowed out gracefully and called a cab to take her home.
The light was still on in the garage when the cab dropped her off in their driveway. Mulder must have just got home himself, she thought as she fished her keys out of her purse and walked to the front door of the house. She came through the foyer and made her way to the coffee table in the living room where she dumped her purse and a shopping bag. She noticed the CC&R binder laying open on the coffee table and picked it up to see what Mulder had been reviewing. The book was opened to the section covering outdoor lighting.
"All homeowners must maintain outdoor security lighting at all times. This includes but is not limited to yard lights, walk way lights, and front door lights. Failing to maintain these appliances could result in fines from the home owners association," Scully muttered, reading the passage aloud. She scanned the next section and then flipped the page to read on. Every paragraph ended in could result in fines. "Geezus, Bill was right about the fines around this place," she mumbled as she set the book down.
A footfall on the stairs caught her attention and she looked upward toward the loft. "Mulder? Is that you?" She waited a second for some type of response. There was nothing. Surely he isn't still mad at me? Scully thought as she put the binder down the table. A shadow in the upstairs hallway caught her eye and her ears tuned in to pick up another footfall. "Mu … Rob?" Scully waited again for a response and then patted her waistband for her gun. Frick! It's in my dresser, she thought as she looked around for something else to defend herself with. She spotted the fire poker hanging in the rack by the fireplace and backed up to grab it.
As her heart pounded in her ear and she felt butterflies in her stomach, Scully made a quick search of the main floor, checking the trap door for the crawl space twice to make sure it was secure. Then she headed upstairs to chase the shadows in the hall. After she had checked the empty bedroom on the third floor, the guest room on the second floor and the master bedroom, she headed down the stairs toward the kitchen when she thought she saw something. First she thought she saw a shadow by the spare bathroom behind her and then she thought she heard a footfall near the kitchen.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs she heard a second footfall and a door close. She felt her pulse rate quicken in her throat and noticed her hands were trembling. Geezus Scully, cool your nerves! She took a deep breath as the footfalls became louder and closer to the stairs. Scully pulled the fire poker back like a baseball bat. When she was sure the person was about to walk in front of the stairs she swung the poker with all her strength at the intruder.
"Whoa!" Mulder yelled as he ducked, the poker just missing his head. He put his hand up to deflect the blow and crouched down on the floor in front of the steps.
Scully was horrified that she'd nearly taken off her partner's head and put the brakes on the movement mid-swing. "Sorry, Mulder," she mumbled as she let out the breath she had been holding.
Mulder stood from his crouch and stared at her from the bottom of the step. What the frick? Why does she look like she just had the begeezus scared out of her?
"There was someone in the house," Scully finally coughed out.
"Tidying up," Mulder replied as he started up the stairs. He put his arm around her and rested his hand in the small of her back and then ushered her up the stairs to their room. "They put away my basketball hoop. Someone is watching out after us, which might not be a bad thing."
"Why?" Scully asked as he shuffled her into the bedroom.
"I got a good look at that thing that's been scaring everybody. I take it back …this is an X-file."
Scully stared at him dumbfounded and followed him across the room. She listened as he retold the incident with Winn on the driveway, Cami screaming and chasing the creature through the yards. Scully even followed Mulder to the front yard and stood patiently as he tried to find an "outlet" for the creature to materialize out of the dirt. Mulder was convinced the creature lived in the dirt, although she didn't believe it. She had her own theory.
"Mulder, do you want my opinion?" Scully asked quietly.
Mulder rolled his eyes and looked back at her. She had planted the seed for another fight, but his better judgment was telling him to bite his tongue. "Always," he conceded and stood up from the ground. He followed her into the house and watched as she walked over to the breakfast bar.
"This morning after you left I started cleaning the house, doing the laundry and the dishes and what-not," Scully started as she pulled the video camera and a Polaroid photo from the drawer. "I ran the dishwasher and when I was cleaning it out later, I discovered we were missing some dishes, specifically two plates, a fork, spoon and a glass."
Mulder looked at her quizzically. "What are you trying to say? That I left them laying around the house somewhere?"
Scully held up her index finger to silence him and then continued with her explanation. "I also found dirt on the floor by the laundry room door and around the nook. I got a good shot of it on the video camera." She ran the tape on fast forward until she found the spot she was looking for and then handed the camera to Mulder. The footage showed footprints around the trap door and by the garage areas. Mulder looked at the film once and then rewound it and played it back.
Mulder set the camera down and walked over to the trap door leading to the crawl space. "Did you go down here?' he asked her over his shoulder.
"Yes," Scully replied and handed him the Polaroid photo. The photo revealed a "nest" in the crawl space where someone had obviously been living. Their missing tableware was lying on the floor next to a tattered pillow and blanket. "I think it's a pretty safe bet that whoever is living down there ate your breakfast this morning."
"Did you leave the plates down there?" Mulder began. Scully held up her hand again and pulled two evidence bags from the drawer. One contained a plate and the other a juice glass.
"That's my girl," Mulder smiled at her.
"Your girl?" Scully retorted. "Just this morning I was the thorn in your side."
"That was before I went golfing with Nester," he replied calmly. "I needed a dose of the real world to remind me of my purpose here."
"Your purpose on this case or with me?" Scully retorted as she stared at him. He was staring at the photo again and was oblivious to her comment. He's still pissed at me, she thought as she set the evidence bags back on the counter top. She looked toward the living room and saw the CC&R book lying there. "I take it you were reading up on the rules after that thing at Shroeder's tonight?"
Mulder looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"
"Weren't you looking at the CC&R binder after the incident at Shroeder's?"
"No … I just came back now when you tried to bat me in the head," he replied evenly feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He followed her to the coffee table and picked up the book.
"Mulder, I found this open on the coffee table when I came home. I thought you were reading it," Scully remarked. "You didn't circle this section on outdoor lighting?"
Mulder scanned the section. "No," he muttered and then pulled his flashlight out of his pocket to get a better look at the page. The section about the security lighting was circled in a shaky thick stroke and there were faint traces of red on the edge of the page.
A thud in the background drew their attention from the book to the direction of the trap door. Mulder held his index finger to his lips and motioned to Scully to "gather" her things and head up stairs. He picked up the case file that was under the binder and followed her to the master bedroom.
Once in the master bedroom he shut the door and started talking again. "I had Nester try to work that lead on Big Mike. He went to the Vet clinic, found a couple of decent prints on Mike's desk and phone and a handwriting sample from one of the patient files." Mulder flipped the file open to the correct page. "Big Mike's blood type is B Negative …. the fingerprint on the jeep? It's a match with the one taken from Mike's office. The handwriting sample is also a match to the note left in the mail box, although the analysts felt the writer was under duress when it was written. I'm willing to guess the prints on that glass and plate are going to come back to Mike as well."
Scully gave him a perplexed look. "What's he doing hiding out in our basement? Why not just stay at his own house?"
"I've been casing the place every morning on my run. It's cleaned out."
"Everything?" Scully whispered not believing him.
"Yep. Furniture, fixtures, even his lawn mower … all gone. It happened the other night."
"So he's living in our basement because he can't go back home? Mulder, that gives me the creeps," Scully said setting the evidence bags down on her desk. She folded her arms at her chest and rubbed her arms as if she was cold.
Mulder smirked a little. "I dunno, just think of it as our own personal protection system. He's obviously trying to tell us something…. leaving the binder open on the lighting page, the rules about the dog, pushing the Jeep in off the driveway." Mulder flipped the file folder to a new page and handed the file to Scully again. "I did a background check on him when I was at the field office this morning. Not only was he one of the original home owners, he was on the association board with Shroeder, Berlanger, Vesch and Gogolak. So maybe he did something to piss off the rest of the board."
"And they killed him for it?" Scully stated as a rhetorical question since Mike obviously wasn't dead.
"Or sent the "monster" there to do it," Mulder remarked.
"Mulder," Scully answered rolling her eyes. "This isn't going to be another case of Mauk Men is it?"
Mulder chuckled and walked to the dresser, pulling open the second drawer. "Ah, now now Scully be careful what you wish for … the Mauk Men turned out to be real." He pulled his service revolver out of the dresser drawer and removed the clip from the gun. He counted the bullets in the clip visually and shoved it back into the gun.
"I don't think anyone ever officially labeled that creature I shot as a Mauk Man," Scully muttered ruefully. "Planning on shooting someone?"
"Yeah, the son-of-a-bitch that ate my quiche," Mulder winked at her. "Wait here." He opened the bedroom door and headed down the stairs to investigate the crawl space.
Scully was nervously pacing the bedroom when she heard the footfall on the stairs. Her mind had run the gamut of possibilities while Mulder was investigating the crawl space and the alcohol in her system wasn't helping much. To say she was jumpy was an understatement. Scully stepped over to the dresser, pulled her service revolver from its holster and stepped to the wall between the door and the closet, holding the gun behind her back. Mulder entered the room and shut the door. He was dirty but otherwise intact.
He noticed she was trembling and caught sight of the gun as she tried to hide it. "Were you drinking tonight?" he asked as he stepped over to her and pulled her chin up to meet his gaze. He could smell the liquor on her breath, although it was obvious she had tried to hide it with spearmint gum. He watched her eyes for the involuntary jerking movement that was the basis of all sobriety tests and took the gun out of her hand. "You seem a little jumpy."
She ducked her head as he took the gun from her and swallowed hard. Busted! she thought in her head, wishing that he hadn't noticed. "I stopped for a drink at the Red Truck Grill on the way home from the movie."
"Just one?" he replied shutting the dresser drawer. "I'm no expert, but I'd have to say you would probably test over the legal limit right now."
"I'm fine, Mulder," she snapped.
"Uh, huh," he thought leaning back on the dresser. Oh, we're back to that again? He stared at the floor for a moment. You're not fine, he thought. "So what's this really about then?" he asked her.
"What?"
"It's not like you to drink on a case … and it's affecting your judgment. First you try to bat me in the head and then you pull your gun?"
"Mulder, I thought I heard someone … something," she implored, getting impatient with his questioning. Scully could tell he didn't believe her. "It's nothing. I'm fine."
Mulder stared at her for a second, not believing her in the slightest. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck tighten. He could pick this apart with her right now, like she had that morning with him over the toothpaste, or he could let it drop. He chose the latter.
"Okay," he replied slowly. "I'm going to spend the night in the living room to see if our friend makes a return visit to the basement." He pushed off the dresser, leaned over the bed to grab the pillow and walked over to the door. "I take it you'll be fine up here alone?" he asked, looking over at her.
"Yeah, Mulder," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'll be fine."
TBC