Sunday was uneventful and Mulder used the time to sort through the reports and research that was coming in. His frustration was mounting at the lack of forensic evidence and he still had no idea what linked the two victims.
When the phone rang, he was simultaneously hopeful that it was Scully, and dreading that it was Andy to give him bad news.
To his immense relief, it was Scully but she didn't have any leads to offer.
"So there's nothing on Phoebe?" He asked, lounging on the couch, his feet proppedup on the cushions.
"No," Scully admitted with an aggravated sigh. "I can't believe we can't find something – anything."
Mulder exhaled noisily. "We didn't get anything off the note?"
"No. The words were glued on from a newspaper. Nothing special about the glue and I'm waiting for the tech to give me the report on exactly what species of wild dog that stamp is supposed to be."
She paused.
"What?" Mulder asked.
"I'm coming home tonight."
Mulder sat up, his legs swinging around and his feet hitting the floor with a thud. "Tonight?"
"Yes. Look, I know what you're going to say – that it's too dangerous there right now."
Mulder winced. Yep, that's what he was going to say.
"But," Scully went on, "I need to be with you. I'm not getting anything done here that the lab techs can't do and I'd rather sleep in my own bed at night."
Mulder relented. "Yeah – I understand. How's your mom?"
"She's fine – sends her love."
Mulder couldn't help but smile. "Oh, there's a message from Jane about when to reschedule your rehab."
Scully groaned and Mulder sat up a little straighter.
"I completely forgot about rehab," she admitted ruefully.
"I can call her if you want," he presented her an out; his brow furrowed in puzzlement at her tone.
Scully breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Would you?" she seemed to jump at his offer. "I really could use a break right now. I – uh – I admit that I've been pushing myself a little too hard."
Mulder let her admission slide. It was a huge step forward for her to admit that she was anything but fine and he didn't want to push her and possibly shut her down. If she needed a rest, then she deserved a rest, as far as he was concerned.
"Just don't tell Jane that," she added; her guilt evident in her voice.
"I won't," Mulder assured her, "as long as you promise to not to start back up until you're sure you're ready. I'll call Jane and think of something – or just make something up. I don't want her to know that we're on the case here, although Andy's taking a lot of heat from the locals who want updates about exactly what's being done, etcetera. So far he's keeping our names out of it, and the only person that I've talked to personally is Phoebe's husband and he's – "
"Oh-" Scully broke in, "my ride is here. I'll see you soon. Jane's number is on the notepad by the kitchen phone."
"Be careful, Scully," Mulder said. "I love you."
"I love you, too. And I will. Turn down the bedcovers and I'll be there before you know it" She said, her voice husky with emotion and then she hung up the phone.
Mulder stared at the receiver in his hand for several moments as if holding it would let him bring Scully sooner and safely. Finally he shook himself out of his reverie and glanced at his watch.
"Guess I can call Jane real quick," he mumbled as he dragged himself off the couch to get Jane's phone number.
His surprise at getting her answering machine left him fumbling through his message. "- So – uh – Scully will call you – or – uh well – just give us a call if this is all right - uh- scheduling wise. Sorry to leave things up in the air like this – but – uh – something's come up."
Finally he just rolled his eyes and hung up.
"Smooth, Mulder," he groaned, even as he glanced around self-consciously. "You sounded like a teenager – could you be any more obvious that you're not being straight with her?"
He decided to go back to the bedroom to make sure that everything was set for Scully's return. A long hot shower left him feeling a little more relaxed and since he was unable to remember when he ate last, he then made himself a light, late dinner. Glancing down at his watch, he figured that he still had an hour before he'd see Scully so he settled himself on the couch to wait.
Outside, the Watcher was more careful, not wanting any slipups to risk detection. Surprised that the window was still open, the Watcher took advantage of the opportunity to listen in on Mulder's side of the conversations. When Mulder finished his dinner; the Watcher knew what had to be done.
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(Almost finished,) the Watcher thought with glee, knowing that the best was saved for last. First things first, though. The Watcher got dressed in the special jumpsuit that wouldn't leave fibers, put on heavy duty gloves and headed over to Diana Mitchell's house. Victim number 3.
