NAME: frogdoggie

E-MAIL: frogdoggie@hotmail.com

CATEGORY: SRA

SUMMARY: Another trip for Skinner and Mulder to the hot South. A VCS case. A hotel in Baton Rouge. A coming out of sorts. Enjoy! FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? I use them to roast weenies, hamburgers and Italian sausages on the grill.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING.: After the film I think - next season? But I mess with the mytharc a little - I'm not dealing with the films events here. This is frogdoggie country - do what thou whilst. Some oblique references to Ascension, Anasazi, and Folie A Deux.

KEYWORDS: story angst slash Skinner Mulder NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Dana Scully and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use. 

Baton Rouge
by frogdoggie 

I suppose you'll wonder when I realized I liked men. I mean liked them sexually. Well...probably around the same time I discovered I liked women. No shit. Bisexual you say? Well...Yeah. But with me it's mostly sexual I guess. The genitalia are...beside the point really. But, I like to be in love more then in sex when it comes down to brass tacks. And hell - that's so rare for me that when it happens I don't give a flying fuck quite frankly what the other party has between their legs. Christ. 

But I started out with women. There have been several. Did I love them? Did they love me? Well, let's examine the evidence. After all, I am an FBI agent. That's my J.O.B. - examining the evidence. Oh, wait, better yet - let's play that little daisy game - you know the plucking thing - *She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not*? Yeah. 

I'll skip my high school girlfriend. I barely remember her now to tell you the truth. So stick that old flame in the *She Loves Me Not* column. 

Next - Phoebe Green. Oh Jesus. Well I guess you can imagine where she goes. No - maybe not. The daisy game doesn't have a line for *She Hates My Guts*. We'll just put *old Pheebes* in the *She Loves Me Not* column and not revisit that sorry situation. Love her? Hardly. It was strictly lust left in the dust. 

Hmmm. Diana Fowley. Diana, the huntress in Roman mythology. A double entendre there for sure. She did know her J.O.B. though. Smart, perceptive woman. I am Christfully sorry that she's lying in a hospital bed right now struggling for her life, though. It's a fucking shame because I really did like her. I respected her and we had a good friendship. In hindsight, I think the sex ruined it. Yeah, she doesn't exactly go in the *She Loves Me* column. Why? Well, because despite the fact that she chased me all the way back to DC - on the hunt, oh yes no mistaking that fact - I don't think the pursuit had anything to do with love. And in the end that's what broke us up really - she was insatiable and well...I just don't burn as...consistently shall we say. I'll get back to that point later. Nope Diana would fit nicely in a column headed *She Lusts for Me*. But love? NO. And like I said we were friends that probably should have stayed just friends and not become lovers. 

Marita Covarrubias. Definitely *She Loves Me Not*. And the feelings mutual. No question. The Ice Queen. Hey, Ok, at least she was a real blonde. But that was about it. Cock teaser. Bitch really, but a valuable informant. A one night fuck. And I hated myself afterwards because we did the wild thing in a fucking hotel room next to the only woman in this whole Godforsaken world who I know really does love me. 

Dana Scully. God in heaven. *She Loves Me* and she's the only one *in* that whole frickin' column. Listen - I love her too all right. Everything we've been through together it's just...I'd die for her - OK. She's a dream come true for me. The first truly compassionate person I've ever known. Intelligent, warm, intellectually and physically stimulating. A Goddess. An angel. 

Scully and I are soulmates. We have a spiritual connection. And oh yeah - we're lovers too. So we love each other in mind, spirit and body. But even so, the body lovin' bit is a little...complicated. 

How can I put this...Scully and I have an arrangement. Uh, Scully doesn't...well it's not that she doesn't like sex or is afraid of men per se - she just isn't interested in most men. They bore her? No that's not exactly it - close but not quite right. They just don't challenge her intellectually, or physically - I mean as in let's get physical. She claims I'm the only man who does. Well, that viewpoint is as flattering as all get out and part of the reason I'd lick her sensibly high heeled clad feet if she asked me too. 

Most men are afraid of her though and I think that's more to the point. She's a strong woman and most men are intimidated by the idea of a woman who can best them intellectually (as well as physically a lot of the time). So, she doesn't suffer fools and in her book most men are fools. Except for yours truly as I said. 

So we have an arrangement, and really we are in love beyond words. Dana Scully is a very passionate woman. Not many people realize that she burns. They equate her with a woman like Marita - an iceberg. But that's as far from the truth as you can get. She's a fucking red head for God's sake. And if anyone was the stereotypical fiery red head in bed it's Dana Katherine Scully. She has an appetite - oh yeah. But it's a selective appetite and she doesn't feed it very often.

And remember when I said I didn't burn as consistently? Well I don't indulge myself all that often either. 

Sex for both of us is problematical. If we aren't up 72 hours straight on a case, with no food except for maybe salt, sugar and caffeine, then we are writing reports and filling out paperwork. If we aren't on a case or filling out reports and paperwork, we could be lying in a hospital bed with the injury or disease of your choice, or missing in action all together for some reason. In short, we are workaholics. And when we aren't working we're trying to take care of our meager personal lives - her family, my mother, and then we fall into bed exhausted. So, grabbing your partner for a little bump and grind isn't exactly a priority you know? 

But hell, we do get horny. And when we want to indulge we want too boogie big time. And we want someone who is willing to go balls out. And Scully's balls are as big as mine, no doubt about it. I love her for that too. We're perfectly capable of spending 24 hours together in the sack, fucking each other senseless, getting up to eat take out Chinese, shower, shit and shave and then we're good to go again. I mean - Thank you Lord! When we want it we got it baby! 

So, that's the arrangement. We're there for each other - in every way, every day. I don't see other women (since La Femme Marita), and she doesn't give a rats ass for other men, not really despite that crap with Ed Jerse. I told her once another woman wouldn't bother me - I mean her with another woman. HA! She gave me an elbow in the ribs. She's not going there anytime soon. Of course, she doesn't mind the fact that I like men. She wouldn't begrudge me a male lover as long as we practiced safe sex. She understands, my Scully. She knows the bottomless hole in my soul. The one that craves filling with as much love as I can get. The love that I never got when I was young. She fills that empty space but doesn't quite fill it up. I just need...something more. Something hard, something masculine as well. The tough love part - to go with the soft and sweet. Hey, I'm a psychologist. I know what that sounds like. I want a Daddy *and* a Mommy right? Well, cut me some slack, Mary Jane, all right? It's been a bumpy ride.

Now. What about my men? There haven't been as many men. But shall we play our little game there as well.. sure... 

I was a virgin with men until I got out of the academy. I mean I had the urge but...well I didn't want to admit it to myself. I finally got up the guts to confront my feelings enough to get my cherry busted though. Reggie did that for me, big time. 

Reggie Pardue. Yeah, I'd put him in the *He Loves Me* column. Another partner I was balling. But it went beyond just sex. I did love the big goof. We just drifted apart. I was a different person when I was in VCS. A prick really and the profiling got to me. So, Reggie and I were splitsville and I found the X-Files. But, shit. I miss him even now - a lot sometimes. 

Alex Krycek. God, Alex. Biggest mistake of my life, you motherfucker. Scully and I weren't together yet at that point. I mean we were still dancing around what we really wanted with each other. Scully and I as a couple came way after Duane Barry. But when Alex walked into my life I was hurting and confused enough that I fell for the fucking Ken Doll like a ton of bricks. Alex was so sympathetic - the little prick. Little prick? I don't think so. And he could use it too. Christ Jesus. But it wasn't just the fact that he was a great lover. I thought that...well, maybe that...Oh hell! His betrayal hurt me more than I can even talk about now. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget. I hadn't wanted to look at another man for a long time after Alex. 

But I had always hoped...hoped that, you know, I'd find a man for me as special as my special woman, Dana Scully. The only man to match the only woman in my life. I hardly imagined I would, and who he would be. 

I mean come on, Walter Sergei Skinner? Who would have thought? I've known Assistant Director Skinner for five years. Sat across from him while he chewed on my ass more times than I can count. Put up with his by the book, tight-assed, fill out that form, Agent Mulder, get the report in on time, Agent, I can't approve this request and what about this expense Mulder, button-down collar, bullshit formality every time I have to talk to him. 

However. I'll admit something here. Even while all that was going on for five years I looked. I mean I thought about him once in a while. OK, more than once in a while. I thought about it a hell of a lot after Mr. Walter Skinner had to put his hands on me, restrain me a few times when I got out of hand. The last time - I mean well, we were pressed pretty fucking close that last time. So what if I was scared shitless and he was as mad as hell. (not to mention the fact his righteous anger was unfounded because I was saving his fat neck, but we won't go there). Even under those conditions it was a little difficult not to notice his pistol wasn't the only hard thing in his pocket. Yeah. I thought about that hard body against mine more than once or twice after that little incident. 

Hell, Scully's thought about Walter every once in a while. She told me as much one night. I think Walter comes under Scully's *might just be acceptable* column as far as men go. Except he's the boss for her. So, she keeps her distance. 

And really I couldn't get past that boss thing either. The guy exudes authority, projects the dom, the top. That *oh please spank me Daddy thang*. He was the best closeted queer I've ever seen. So closeted he hadn't even...well I'll get back to all that in time. What I mean is - who would have known? But in our J.O.B. staying in one kind of closet or another is a way of life. So Walter's camouflage was a matter of preservation. Walter was married for 17 years and personifies the tight-lipped, Mr. Spock unemotional, hardass for his own protection. It's not a stupid precaution. Believe me. 

So, although I entertained my fantasies regarding AD Skinner I never dreamed...And now I'm in love with him? That's a fucking X-File let me tell you. But nevertheless it is true. What's more funny folks is, Walter's in love with me too. Honest to God. And it all happened so fast. We fell in love - fell - hell yes - like that ton of bricks again. Maybe it was the heat. Baton Rouge is hot after all. Yeah, it happened in Baton Rouge. 

xXx 

Baton Rouge, Louisiana, in July - Mother of God. It was hot. They say that the heat causes more crime. There's a theory that says temperatures below 98.6, human body temperature, cause crime stats to stay flat or decrease. The cold keeps the crooks at home warming their toes in front of their stolen microwaves. Above 98.6 the perps are too hot to commit their little anti-social atrocities. But right at 98.6 people go a little crazy. It was just about 98.6 in Baton Rouge. 

Some bastard was crazy in Baton Rouge that's for sure. As a loon. Sexual serial killer. The worst kind. Child predator, kidnapper. Baby killer. I hate those cases. Walter always assigns me to consult on them because - OK - I am the best resource he has to catch the sick fucks. I can profile them and the local Fibbies or cops can have them cuffed in record time - before they claim another victim. So even though I go through a living hell on a VCS consult I understand logically why Walter loans me out. I just have a hard time handling it emotionally. This time was no different. 

To make matters worse it was a high profile case. The first victim had been a police captain's little 8 year old daughter. The second, the 9 year old daughter of a noted public defender, the third, the assistant district attorney's daughter, just turned 10 (a non-partisan killer it seemed), The fourth, the daughter of a district judge, 10 again, and the last had been the oldest, the 11 year old daughter of Senator Andrew Rhodes, the very liberal senator for his district which encompassed Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The first four victims had been found raped and mutilated, their bodies found floating, tied to cross-shaped bundles of straw, in the bayou. 

The local newspapers and network broadcast media broke the story and then ran with it. They ran it all the way up to a national level and now the major national print publications and the big broadcast networks, including FOX, were all having a field day. The story finally made *The Today Show* and all bets were off then - it was a press feeding frenzy. 

The headlines became more and more hysterical, inflammatory and spectacular. *Holy War Against the Law*, *The Moses Killer*, *Dead Babies in the Bayou*, *Who Crossed Him?* etc. etc. ad nausuem. I wish the press would realize when they write those headlines that they were fueling the asshole's fire. The guy was probably beating his own meat over the morning paper by that point. Crap.

The local bureau office was quite frankly floundering with the case. They just couldn't come up with any valid leads. The importance of the victims families, the age and sex of the victims, and the religious Modus Operandi of the crimes was causing local politicos to put a lot of pressure on DC. The locals wanted to get some help down there to capture the sick dick before he grabbed another kid. 

Unfortunately, DC allowed the SAC in Baton Rouge to flounder a bit longer and the Senator's daughter got snatched. That's when Senator Rhodes squealed like a stuck pig all the way to the Attorney General and anyone else who would listen up on the hill including the President of the US of A. So, the powers that be had to find somewhere to have the buck passed - or rather someplace to have the buck stop. Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner was called in, and consequently that's where I came in as well. 

I don't know if you realize just what Walter does for a living. He's one of nine Assistant Directors at the Bureau. He is specifically, AD in charge of Criminal Investigation. In other words he's in charge of 80 per cent of the bureaus agents. Maybe in charge of 70,000 or so cases a year? No shit folks. No wonder the guy's bald. He's the head of seven separate sections including civil rights, counter-terrorism, drugs, white-collar crime, organized crime, investigative support, and of course violent crime. 

Assistant Directors very seldom go into the field. They are rarely involved directly in a case unless it's a very high profile one. High profile like a senator's daughter being snatched and under peril of death somewhere in Baton Rouge. And high profile because the fucking SAC is screwing things up the whazoo and the local and national media (fucking short memories of the Richard Jewell fiasco notwithstanding), are having the FBI for breakfast. 

So, Walter Skinner got the word that he would be going to Baton Rouge to kick ass, run interference against the press, and hopefully rally the forces to catch the murderer before the Senators daughter ended up on a cross floating down the bloody bayou. It was going to be a management nightmare. 

Naturally he needed the best resources to help him accomplish this miracle. So as I said - being one of the best resources brought me into the equation. He would have liked to have had Dana Scully too. But unfortunately, Scully was in San Diego with her mother. Her brother Bill had been injured in a shipboard accident and was in very serious condition. Both women were in California to support his wife and children. So, Scully's invaluable forensic help was out. Walter would have to rely on his ace in the hole - me. 

I knew when he called me up to his office I was in deep shit. He looked like he'd forgotten to take his Metamucil that morning. 

"Agent Mulder, sit down." 

Walter has different ways of saying "Sit down." Just by the mere inflection of those two words both Scully and I know what we're in for. 

In this case the inflection told me something unpleasant was lying in wait with his next words. But, and this analogy just jumped into my head, and I have to laugh now under the circumstances. His tone of voice reminded me of John Steed in *The Avengers*. You know when he says that line *Mrs. Peel, we're needed?* Yeah, well anyway - I got the idea AD Skinner was going to ask for my help, needed it desperately, but his stiff necked, FBI brass-assed, ex-Marine assholiness wasn't going to let him admit it. He was going to order me instead, and it was going to stick in my craw again. But I sat and kept my mouth shut - yeah, for a change - and listened to what the man had to say. Something about the look in his eyes told me I'd better wait and hear him out. 

Yup, just like that. No - Mulder, I'm sorry, Or Mulder, I wish I could send you *and* Scully, or even Mulder would you like Kim to get you a cup of coffee before I stick it in and ram it home? Fuck. 

"That baby killer in Baton Rouge?" I couldn't help it. My voice rose an octave at the end of the sentence. I sounded like fucking Mickey Mouse for a second. An accusatory Mickey Mouse. Well, I was pissed. I knew the general information about the case of course. I knew it was more than likely going to be a nightmare. God damn Mulder torture. 

"Is that a problem, Agent Mulder?" He was stern, stiff, affronted. I had smart-mouthed him and he didn't like it. I just stared at him for a second. OK. I was going to stick my neck out. I was just a little tired of being assigned to the worst gut-wrenching shit Walter could find for me over in VCS. I just had to stand up for myself this once. 

"You know it's a problem sir. With Scully gone I have to do all the paperwork for the X-Files and since we just closed that case out in Wisconsin there's a mound of it as high as my butt cheeks down there and..." 

"Agent Mulder." His tone stopped me dead then. It was so bereft suddenly. Like he had the entire world on his shoulders. And in a way he did. The whole world of the Criminal Investigation Division anyway. He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

"Do you have any idea what the Rhodes case involves? Any idea of what's going on down there in Baton Rouge?" 

"Only what's in the newspapers and on TV, sir." In truth I hadn't paid too much attention to the Rhodes case. Like I said I did know the rough facts. Scully and I had been out in Wisconsin for the better part of three weeks and had returned only to have Scully get on a plane almost immediately for her trip to San Diego. So although I knew some sick fuck was killing kids in Baton Rouge I didn't know all the details. 

Walter put his glasses back on and then fixed me with his baby browns. They looked hard, black instead of brown, like black marbles and just as shiny with barely self-contained anger. 

"Then I'm surprised you didn't read in the papers, or see on the tube, that the SAC down there, Scott Adams, is fucking the case up royally and the media is crucifying the FBI just like Mr. *John Doe Baby Killer* is crucifying those little girls." He was glaring at me and his voice was very low, and very dangerous. If I said something snide now I thought - Christ he'll come across the desk and strangle me. 

"No, I didn't know that sir, I'm sorry." 

"Yeah, Mulder. Well, babies *are* dying in Baton Rouge and the fucking locals don't have a clue on stopping it. So what I'm trying to say is I could really use your help when I fly down there tomorrow. I know you don't like these VCS consults, Mulder, but...I..." 

"When you fly down there?" I asked. I was a bit taken aback. First of all that he was at last actually asking me for my help. And secondly that he was going down to Baton Rouge with me. Of course, it made sense. He had said SAC Adams was losing it down there. Walter Skinner had a reputation for taking the reins in that type of situation and getting results. So shit - they were sending old Walter down to knock heads. Well, well. That might make things just a tad more tolerable. Results would be paramount under the circumstances. Between the two of us I thought, we just might be able to swing bringing in our man. Yes sir. 

AD Skinner didn't look happy about the situation though. Jesus I couldn't blame him, really. What a shitty position to be in all the way around. Hey, I know what I'm like on a VCS consult. What I'm like most of the time for Christ's sake. So does Walter. Would you want to be working with me under that kind of pressure? Right. I turned my attention back to my boss because he was giving me his vision of the way of the world. 

"Yes. I'm being sent down to take charge of the investigation," he stopped for a moment and then I guess he was trying to make things a little lighter because he let his mouth twitch into a terse little grin. Just for a second. Hell. 

"The Director is sending in his version of the fucking cavalry," he rumbled. 

"Don't you mean he's throwing the Christians to the Lions, sir?" I answered. Well, I was going to at least try to match the bitter sounding tone that underpinned his humor. 

He barked his gruff laugh. 

"You've got a point there, Mulder." He looked down at the two very thick files on his desk. 

"Is that the Rhodes file, sir?" I asked following his eyes. 

"Yes, two copies. One for me and one for you." 

I moved forward and extended my hand. He picked up the top file and handed it to me across the desk. 

"Just what I always like, a little light reading." 

"Right. I want you to read it and give me your thoughts first thing tomorrow morning. I want you in here at 4 AM Mulder." 

"What time's the flight tomorrow, sir?" 

"6 AM, the earlybird." 

"I'll see you here in the morning, Mulder. We'll leave for the airport after we discuss the case. Dismissed." 

So, we flew down to Baton Rouge. 

xXx 

Walter was seated next to me on the plane. It was a two seat, three seat arrangement. We did have the vacant seat between us, for formality, for distance. So both of us could have some damn leg room really. Walter was on the aisle, a cup of coffee and the partially eaten airline breakfast in front of him. I was next to the window and I'd all ready wolfed down my scrambled eggs, toast and sausage patty. I like to carb up before I know I'm going to go through a brain drain like Baton Rouge. I'd had two cups of coffee as well. I'd been up all night with The Rhodes Case. It was being called the Rhodes case as in Senator Rhodes. Prior to the Senator's daughter it had been Baton Rouge case *#gazillion whatever*. I thought it was a bit of a disservice to the other victims to change the name. But I suppose little Ashley Rhodes wouldn't think so. But I digress. 

"He may think that's what he's doing, sir. But in reality I think his problems are a lot more deep seated than just being pissed because he got a bad deal in traffic court." 

"I have to admit the religious angle does make more sense." 

"Yeah. I'll know more when I get a look at the crime scenes and the bodies. But I think we're looking for a white male, 25 to 35, basically your typical serial killer. A guy with deep seated religious psychopathology here as well. I mean that Moses in the bulrush imagery is pretty hard to deny." 

Walter took a last bite of egg and nodded his head. He picked up his coffee cup, took a quick sip and grimaced. It must have gone cold. I went a little cold with his next words. 

"I've got the bodies, uh, you're scheduled to view the bodies first. Their parents really want them released for burial. Mulder you realize we probably have only 48 hours before the Rhode's girl ends up in the bayou, don't you? That's been the MO up to this point. Snatch them, torture them for 3 days and then float 'em. The damn idiots down there let 24 hours elapse on this one before we were called in. So, we've got maybe 48 hours. Christ." 

I cringed a little. Wonderful. I had a feeling I'd be viewing the victims remains right after the plane landed. If I'd been smarter I might not have eaten my entire breakfast. 

"Yes, sir, I'm aware of those facts from the file. I'll be prepared to hit the ground running in Baton Rouge. I understand the urgency." 

"Good," Walter replied tersely. He nodded his head in appreciation. I really did get the idea he was very glad to have me along. It made me feel good too. I sort of wanted to show Walter Skinner what I could do in this situation. He'd be seeing me work again face to face and I just felt like I wanted to do a really good job for once so...well fuck what can I say? I wanted to impress the boss for once. Hey, even I like to do that once in a while. I may be an anarchist rebel a lot of the time but once in a while I like to have my ego stroked too. So sue me. 

I was about to ask Walter when we'd be going to the county morgue when the stew came by our seats. 

"Can I get either of you some more coffee?" 

What was funny though was she really hadn't paid as much attention to me as she did to Walter. Walter was seemingly oblivious to that fact. I mean here's this gorgeous woman, going out of her way to be attentive to him and he's chomping on his toast and eggs like she isn't even standing there in the aisle. 

I guess there was more than one reason for that inattentiveness. He was focused on Baton Rouge. I didn't know the other reason until later of course. Besides that, Walter doesn't realize anyone could be attracted to him. Not really. I know that sounds incredible but deep down the man has a serious inferiority complex about his appearance. What's not to like you ask? Yeah well - repeat the words bald and over forty a few times and you'll get a clue. Never mind the fact that he's built like that bronze Rodin statue, *The Thinker* with muscles as hard as Rodin gave his man in thought. Walter just doesn't have a clue as to his assets. So when someone pays attention to him he just doesn't see it. At least not right away. And like I said - his mind had all ready flown ahead of the plane down to bayou country. And I could understand why that had happened for sure. 

"I could use some more, thank you," he answered the stew, extending his coffee cup. And then he did give her a little smile. Just enough to be sociable and appreciative. Oh boy. Well, the stew was panting then. Oh yeah. She filled his cup nice and slow. 

"Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked smiling really wide. She was looking right at Walter. Her glance in my direction was an after thought. I'm thinking, "Yeah, like a membership in the mile high club." 

"No thank you. Mulder?" he replied. 

"What?" Oops I'd been caught in *Wally World* there for a couple of seconds. 

"Do you want any more coffee?" Walter asked inclining his head at the stew. 

"Oh, no thanks, Nancy, I'm caffeined up just fine," I smiled at her as well. She really was a nice kid. Her eyes lit up just a bit when I showed my pearly whites. But really I guess I wasn't her type. Fine by me. I'm leaning towards petite red heads nowadays. Or maybe I should say leaning on. Jesus. I was going to miss Scully on this trip. No doubt about it. I made a mental note to call her when I got settled in my hotel room. By that time I'd really need to hear her voice. 

"All right. Well if either of you change your minds just hit the call button," she answered and then she headed up to the next occupied seats with her cart full of goodies. 

Walter went back to sipping his coffee and I went back to watching Walter. 

Something I need to tell you about what happens to me on a VCS consult. I go a little crazy - well, more crazy. You've probably caught on to that idea by now though. One of the odd side effects, a problem I have, is that I just...I don't know...all my senses become magnified. My perceptions are heightened. It's almost like a sixth sense. It helps me with the profiling but it doesn't help me with my sex life. Why? Because it makes whatever sense I have that gets my hormones hopping (maybe olfactory?), go on overtime. I mean maybe it is this blood hound nose of mine I don't know. But boy I can sense the fucking pheromones in the air and wham - I'm as horny as hell. It's a fucking curse too. 

On consults where Scully's along we'll usually try to schedule a day or maybe two after we get back to DC to decompress. Then it's major Mulder comfort for her and Scully soothing for me. We end up clinging to each other half in desperation I think mostly to feel alive, human again. Sometimes it isn't even a 24 hour sex marathon either. Sometimes we just sit around, dazed - and talk. Or watch some old scifi movie, play scrabble whatever. As long as we can touch and hold each other when the shadows get too long. But of course we do make a lot of love too - it helps us forget everything else except each other for awhile so we can back to what passes for normal for us both. 

At any rate, on the plane to Baton Rouge my hormone hopping hound dog sense was working it's annoying magic. I was watching Walter and my pupils were starting to dilate. I'm just glad I wasn't sitting in the seat directly next to him. If I had been I'm sure I would have been sweating with the feeling of that warm, hard solid wall of muscle he calls a bicep pressing up against my arm. As it was I was struggling not to get aroused and before we reached Baton Rouge I had failed miserably and was sporting a woody for Walter like you wouldn't believe. God, I hate my body sometimes. And being a man can be a curse in a situation like that too, let me tell you. I mean Jesus, I had to stick the friggin' in flight magazine in my lap to hide my boner and then pretend I was asleep so I could do square roots in my head to get myself calmed down. 

However - when we landed in Baton Rouge I had no trouble losing the perpendicular pecker. The media and the 90 degree heat and humidity took care of that for me. The media and the ungodly temperature were waiting at the airport. The press had their own hound dog noses in the air at the smell of fresh DC meat on the hoof, prime for the slaughter. I started to sweat both from the prospect of running their gauntlet and at the feeling of blast furnace heat that we could feel even inside the air conditioned planes cabin.

xXx 

"Fuck," Walter cursed looking through the planes window.

"What?" 

"Press pukes," he growled. 

"Where?" 

"In the God damn concourse and the gate area. I can see them through the observation windows." 

"There must have been a leak that we were coming. Scott Adams's ass is grass I can tell you that right now. That prick. I'll leak him. Crap, I'd like to take a leak on him. Jesus. He should have controlled this better all the way around," Walter hissed between his teeth. 

"Yes sir," was all I could think to say. I guess I was going to get to see AD Walter S. Skinner in action for sure now. I figured my best bet here was to keep my mouth shut and go along for the ride. Go along or get bulldozed over. So, I just made myself the model Special Agent and prepared to lend a hand if need be. 

"Look, Mulder. This could get ugly. Just...keep your lip zipped and let me do the talking. Your only comment is *No Comment* understand?" 

"All right. We'll deplane last. That should give the press some confusion with the crowd. I just hope Adams had the sense to get us some extra interference out there. I want to get into the VIP lounge, and then get the fuck out the back door, and downtown as soon as possible." 

"I can't agree with you more there, sir." 

"Yeah. No shit. Mulder, listen. I...I'm not going to be very pleasant to live with over the next few days until we catch this killer. Uh...I want to apologize now for being the *A Number One Prick* I'm going to be, all right. Just...do your best. I know you will, that's all I expect of you. And I appreciate it." 

I was pretty much struck speechless on hearing him say it. It touched me too. The look in his eyes told me more than his words ever could convey. He knew we were entering the *heart of darkness* and he really was sorry he was dragging me along for the descent into madness. But, after all it was part of the J.O.B. And for crying out loud I'd seen more weird shit than Walter Skinner had ever dreamed of in his wildest nightmares. At least I thought so. I thought I was ready for anything. I was almost right. 

The plane started to empty out. I was grateful we only had carry on luggage. So, no trip to the luggage carousel was necessary. Who knew if we'd ever get our luggage. Walter must have read my mind. 

"Mulder, watch your luggage, ok. I wouldn't put it past one of those media assholes to lift something if they thought they could get a lead." 

"Yeah, well, if they think my flying pig print boxers are worth a sidebar they're welcome to them," I quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Walter looked at me with a raised eyebrow. But then he did rumble his bass laugh for a few moments and I was glad he had liked the lame attempt at humor. I wouldn't hear him really laugh again until days later. And between then and now it would be a long, cruel trip. 

xXx 

The media circled like sharks smelling blood in the water. But neither Walter or I was going to thrash around long enough for any of them to take a bite. 

The other debarking passengers in front of us acted as a milling, confused and very satisfactory diversion for Walter and me to make our exit from the plane. I went out first, carrying my garment bag, and laptop, in the hopes no one would recognize me either. It would have worked too if the agents accompanying the SAC and ASAC hadn't known my identity. But they did, and formed an immediate phalanx around me and then Walter as he followed behind me. Crapola. The press surged forward all the way from the concourse, like angry hornets, buzzing their questions as we fought our way to the VIP lounge. 

"No comment?" I didn't even have a chance to get a word in edgewise. The reporters were firing questions so fast I would have never had a chance to answer them anyway. But most of the queries were directed at Walter Skinner. They were all fairly typical. *Assistant Director Skinner - What are you and your team from DC (oh yeah team, right - Walter and moi), going to do to help catch the killer? Has DC lost confidence in the local FBI office, is that why you're here? Did the fact that Ashley Rhodes was a Senator's daughter bring all the high powered guns down to Baton Rouge now? Did the Senator exert pressure to get DC involved? If you won't answer now, Mr. Skinner, will you be holding a press conference to answer some of these questions soon?* 

The last question finally got Walter to stop saying "No comment." As we reached the door to the VIP lounge he turned to face the crowd of reporters being held back by the bodies of twelve agents, SAC Adams and ASAC Matthews. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I can tell you there will be a press conference this afternoon at 5 PM at FBI headquarters downtown. I will have a prepared statement at that time which should answer some of your questions. Until then - I have no further comment." 

An angry and indignant murmur went up. Exclamations of all sorts could be heard. "Prepared statement? Read press release, no questions, shit," and "Crap, he's timing that for the evening news," and "It figures. No answers and then just a damn press release how's that gonna look on, or in, or..." "I hate cooling my heels until 5 PM..." "Friggin' DC Bastard, How about some copy you..." "What a thick necked asshole," and even a couple of "who the hell was that agent with him, the tall guy in the designer suit? "I think that's the profiler, what's his name?" "Mulder." "Yeah, what have you got on him. Hey, find out your own shit..." 

Oh Whoopee! I could hardly wait to hear what they had to ask Walter about me at the press conference. And they would ask despite the prepared statement idea. That was the way the game was played. I didn't have much time to think about anything else though. I was being swept forward as Walter the SAC, ASAC and the other agents shoved through the single doorway into the VIP lounge. 

xXx 

"Christ on a crutch, Adams. Who the hell leaked we were coming to those fourth estate ghouls?" Walter asked, red-faced as he adjusted his tie and smoothed his suit. He took out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face and neck. He returned the cloth to his pocket and shifted his neck sideways suddenly. I heard an audible crack. God. His neck was cracking like a gunshot all ready. 

I felt like I needed to crack my entire body. I also thought I was going to melt. I was dissolving inside my suit and I really wished I had a handkerchief to wipe my sodden face. I resorted to using my suit coat sleeve and watched SAC Scott Adams basting in his own sweat as well. Walter wasn't done with him yet either. He moved up into his personal space and continued his tirade. 

"And what the flying fuck are *all* of you doing down here? Just who's minding the store? Is anyone investigating this friggin's case? You should know better, Scott. And Jesus - Where's your God damned PR man. I know I'm supposed to handle the press but not before I even get a chance to take a piss here". 

"Walter, I'm sorry, I have no idea who leaked the information. And I thought you'd like as much help out here as possible once I found out the media was going to mob you," SAC Scott Adams replied. 

"It's your job to know, Adams. Now what about the PR liaison?" 

"He resigned two weeks ago. We haven't replaced him yet." 

"Are you serious?" Walter replied incredulous. 

"Unfortunately, yes, Walter." Adams shot back. His hands were shaking slightly. Walter ran his hand over his mouth and shook his head. His face got marginally more red and it wasn't from the heat any longer. 

The other agents were doing their best imitations of deaf, dumb and blind people as the SAC seemed about to face the music. They milled about in groups of two and three waiting for the fireworks to explode so they could duck and cover. 

Walter fixed Adams with one last glare and then turned his back on him to face Johnson Matthews. 

Everyone busied themselves with talking or looking elsewhere. 

SAC Adams hastened to introduce Mathews to Skinner, "Assistant Director Skinner this is Johnson Matthews, my ASAC." 

Matthews was a short black man about the same age as Walter. He looked a little bit like and older version of Barry Sanders, the Detroit running back. Matthews was older than his SAC. Adams was about my age - and white. Obviously some of the good old boy politics were still in evidence in Baton Rouge FBI circles. Matthews extended his hand and Walter shook it. 

"I'm pleased to meet you Johnson. Vietnam, Class of 73, right?" Walter greeted him firmly. 

"Right, sir. I seem to remember a Walter Skinner in the MASH unit around the same time I did my little tour there. Am I correct, sir?" 

"Were you that noisy son of a bitch that kept singing those Sam Cook songs?" 

"Hell, yes. That was me." 

"Thought so."

"Don't bullshit me AD Skinner, I know you read my file." 

Walter blinked for a second and then he chuckled, "Well, you got me there. I wasn't sure it was you until I read the file. But I do remember your damn good rendition of those Sam Cook tunes just the same. A couple of nights you were the only thing that kept me from ripping my hair out - and I had a hell of a lot more hair then, even with the Marine regulation haircut." 

It was Johnson Matthews turn to chuckle then but he laughed pretty hard instead, nodding his head and saying, "Is that so...well shit..." 

"Well, I'm sorry we don't have more time to talk over old times, but this is going to be a hell of a war here too, Johnson. Can I count on you to get the job done?" 

"I'll do my best, sir." 

"That's all I can ask." 

I watched as Walter, with just a few pleasantries had pulled Matthews into his sphere of influence and effectively cut Adams out of it. The scene did not bode well for the SAC. 

As the three men were doing their dominance dance a woman agent had drawn up to listen and watch the conversation. She was standing next to me. I figured, what the hell, I might as well join in the introductions since no one was bothering to introduce me. Just as I thought it Walter spoke up again. 

"I'm sorry, Ladies and Gentlemen," The assembled group became instantly alert and attentive, gathering around to hear Walter's next words of wisdom. Walter continued and I started to flinch because I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. 

"This is Fox Mulder. I think most of you know him by reputation as a profiler. You are to treat him as you would treat me. He should have your utmost cooperation and free rein to perform his job. Believe me he's very good at what he does. If allowed to do what he does best we'll catch your perp. Is that clear?" 

There was a chorus of "Yes, sirs." Christ. Well, it was flattering of course. But, I felt like shrinking into the cement floor. Shit. Walter moved off to talk to SAC Adams and ASAC Matthews in private for a moment. He dismissed the other agents back to their duties and the assemblage began to break up, taking the rooms back door out to where their Bu-cars were parked in VIP parking. All of them had assigned duties for now and were anxious to get back to them and out of the tension that was obviously brewing between the SAC, ASAC and AD. 

The tall, muscular, Hispanic woman agent standing next to me didn't leave with the rest immediately. She instead extended her hand with a smile, "Nothing like being singled out as the fair haired boy, Agent Mulder. I'm Carmen Guitteraz. Pleased to meet you." 

"Pleased to meet you too, Agent Guitteraz." I replied grasping her hand. I smiled a little sheepishly at her remark. Just what I needed - it would be *Pretty Boy Spooky* next if I wasn't careful. Her grip was firm in mine. She had a grip like a vice. She looked like a female body builder. Really ripped. I thought - hell I wouldn't want to go against her in hand to hand - no way. 

"Carmen's fine. We'll be working together. I've been assigned to act as your liaison. I...up until now I was as close to a profiler as they had here. Degree in psychology from Duke University." 

"Oh, well...I don't mean to step on any toes, here Carmen. I'm sure I can use all the help I can get. This case is going to suck, really, to be blunt. I would appreciate someone to bounce ideas off. If you'll bear with me, put up with my shit, I think we'll do ok - deal? Oh, and please - just call me Mulder." I studied her carefully. She looked smart. Alert. I was hoping she was as perceptive as Dana Scully. I needed someone with as keen a mind as Scully had to keep me sharp too in this kind of difficult situation. I was hoping Carmen Guitteraz would fit the bill. She'd certainly be able to watch my back with no problem. No question about it. 

As we got done with our little detente, SAC Adams, ASAC Matthews and Walter returned to our side. 

"Oh, Good I see Agent Guitteraz has introduced herself. Sir, I've assigned, Agent Carmen Guitteraz as Agent Mulder's liaison. She has a degree in psychology and has been acting as our de facto profiler on this case," Adams spoke up, addressing Walter with deference. No more Walter. It was sir now. 

"Fine. Welcome aboard, Agent Guitteraz. We appreciate having your expertise and prior knowledge here. I'm sure both will be invaluable. Please accompany us to the hotel. You can fill Agent Mulder in on recent data that wasn't in the case files we had in DC." 

"Yes, sir," Carmen replied shaking Walter's hand. 

"Mulder we're going to the hotel to check in and dump our luggage. Then you're due at the morgue, and after that you're scheduled to view the crime scenes," Walter was all stiff professionalism now. More ram rod straight then I had ever seen him, "I'll meet you at FBI headquarters as soon as you're done. I want your report at that time. Be prepared to brief the entire team in fact. We need to know who you think we should really be looking for." 

Ouch I thought. He was really sticking it to SAC Adams. I noticed ASAC Matthews had rather a wry look on his face. 

"Yes, sir. I'd like Agent Guitteraz to accompany me to the morgue and the crime scenes," I replied looking at SAC Adams. 

"Agent Guitteraz has been assigned as your liaison, Mulder. She's going wherever you go," Walter advised cutting Adams off before he could even get his mouth open.

Then he turned on the SAC and ASAC. 

"Gentlemen I want you to come along to the hotel and then we'll drive down to headquarters together. I want to meet with you both immediately when we get down there. We have a lot to discuss, including this God damn press conference. I can't worry about your lack of a PR man now. We'll have to come up with the press release on our own. So, I hope you're prepared to play spin doctors. I need to schedule that team meeting right away as well. Have everyone ready to meet with me at 1 PM and ready to report in full. All right?" 

Like they would say no? Both Adams and Matthews gave a simultaneous "Yes, sir." All of us left the room and headed to separate Bu-Cars. SAC Adams was all ready on his cell phone contacting the various agents in charge, rounding up the entire team to get them back at headquarters for the 1 PM meeting. Jumping to it like it was going to save his skin now. I almost felt sorry for the skinny little turtle ass. But not quite. Kids had died because he'd hadn't been able to handle his job. And now Walter and I were here to pick up the pieces. 

I was riding with Carmen to the hotel. The big wigs were taking a second Bu-Car, Matthews was driving. I was suddenly extremely thankful I had Carmen giving me a lift. One look at the SAC, ASAC and AD told me that the air in the car might possibly turn blue way before they got to the hotel. Unless of course Walter would wait until he got them in separate meetings back at FBI headquarters to lower the ax. I thought he might just wait. At least to spare ASAC Matthews seeing his SAC's ass chewed up and spit out on the car seat. 

AD Skinner had more savior faire then to embarrass one subordinate in front of another. No, I figured he'd travel in stony silence, letting both men stew in their own juices until he got to headquarters. Then I had a feeling I just might be addressing Johnson as SAC Matthews before too long and Adams would be reading tourist brochures for Nowwheresville, USA, where the local bureau office had two men in it - him and some guy named Buford who was a couple of years away from retirement.

Carmen and I got into her Bu-Car and followed Matthews out of the airport, and out onto the freeway towards the Hyatt Regency Hotel near FBI headquarters we'd been booked into for the duration. 

We drove along in silence for a while. I was enjoying the Olds AC after the steam heat treatment of the parking lot. I watched the scenery go by for a few minutes and then Carmen popped the 64 thousand dollar question. 

"So, Mulder, do you really hunt down little green men or is that just a nasty rumor I've heard about you?" 

Oh fuck, I thought. Here it comes. Now I'll lose all credibility and dealing with her will be like being a hog farmer. Shoveling through deep shit every day on the job. 

"They're gray actually. And yes, all the rumors are true, Carmen. Is that a problem? Do you think my unique casework will prevent me from busting my hump down here in order to stop any more little girls from ending up in the bayou?" I replied quietly. I was just so tired of hearing that shit. 

"No, Mulder, I don't think that at all. I'm just trying to make conversation. Besides, I...I've followed some of your work on the X-Files. I graduated from Duke in psychology remember. I just didn't mention my minor was in parapsychology." 

I laughed then. Well, well. Ms. Carmen Guitteraz was a little spooky herself. This wouldn't be so bad after all. 

"So, are you a fan Ms. Guitteraz?" I couldn't help smirking a bit. It was the relief mostly. 

"Let's just say - sort of a Ms. Spooky, Ok. That is what the assholes up there in DC call you isn't it - Spooky Mulder?" 

"Yeah, But they call my partner, Dana Scully, Ms. Spooky. You'll have to find another nick I'm afraid." 

She laughed then as well, "Ok, I'll give it some thought. Where is your partner?" 

"She's taken a temporary leave of absence. Family emergency." 

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear it." 

"Yeah. We could really use her here. She's a crack forensic pathologist as well as a brilliant field agent." 

"You must be a good team. How long have you been partnered?" 

"Five years." 

She nodded her head and grew quiet. When she spoke again her voice was very soft, very subdued, "My partner, Ted Grady was killed in the line of duty two months ago. I'm just coming back from medical leave myself. I haven't had anyone assigned as a partner yet and then this damned serial killer began murdering those little girls. It..well things have been a little difficult..." 

"I'm sorry to hear that Carmen. Well, with any luck we should get this jerk. I'll do my best anyway to see we do get him fast." 

"We're going to have to, Mulder. We only have around 48 hours before he kills the Rhodes girl." 

"I know that Carmen. Let's...Why don't you fill me in on the most recent information you have. Then I'll tell you the theory I'm developing. If we exchange ideas I bet we can come up with a total picture and get this fucker dead to rights. How about it?" 

I turned sideways and stared into her profile. She was watching traffic but her attention had been on my every word. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. I could see determination flow from her face through her entire body. 

Carmen Guitteraz smiled an almost feral looking grin of pleasure at the thought of getting the perp behind bars, "Oh yeah, Mulder. Nothing would give me greater pleasure." 

And as our car sped off towards the hotel in the mornings boiling sunlight, Carmen began to fill me in. As it turned out, she had been very perceptive in her theories and observations. The second crime in Baton Rouge had been that SAC Scott Adams had practically ignored everything she had had to say up to this point. Sweet Jesus. 

xXx 

*Four little maids all in a row* flitted like a dark, macabre shadow, through my mind as I stood in the morgue with the coroner, Carmen and the four little bodies each on a separate autopsy table. This room was cool. Under other conditions I would have reveled in the wonderful cool respite. But instead of making me feel better the morgue's AC made me feel cold to the bone way beyond the actual number on the thermometer. Hell, no matter how many times you face this situation, no matter how many times you prepare yourself for it - when the bodies under the sheets are this small even Spooky Mulder has some trouble dealing with it. 

Normally the air would stink of antiseptic, blood and other bodily fluids which could also add to the grotesque aspect of the scene. But, I could barely smell anything except the Vicks Vap-0-Rub the coroner had considerately supplied both Carmen and myself with. The whole room smelled like my chest used to smell when I had a cold as a kid. 

The coroner and the coroner's assistant had laid out everything in a very business like manner. Copies of their findings were all available. I'd read them all ready of course - back in DC - but I thanked them just the same. 

I examined each body for anything that might have been missed all the while wishing Scully were here. I'd barely had time to talk to her in San Diego from the hotel after I'd literally dumped my luggage in the room adjoining Walters. Walter barely had time to take a piss before he was headed out again for downtown. I'd excused myself to Carmen and she'd gone into Walter's empty room through the connecting door while I dialed Scully's cell phone number. It had been good to hear her voice. I learned that her brother had been moved from the critical to serious list in the hospital. I had told her I wished she were here and I'd heard the smile in her voice when she said she really did wish she was with me as well. I gave my love to her and her mother. When we hung up I thought just how valuable she was to me both as a life partner and as a job partner. She would have been a great asset here. I had an idea what I was looking for but it would have been nice if I could have had her expertise. But even without Dana Scully's decisive, intelligent autopsy findings I soon found what I was looking for. 

"Carmen do you remember your Old Testament?" 

"Come here." 

Carmen joined me next to the first girls body. 

"Do you see these wounds - these are all blunt trauma injuries according to the report." 

"Right. Isn't that right, Dr. Murphy?" Carmen replied glancing back to confirm with the pathologist. 

"That's correct. Blunt force trauma, from trace evidence in the wounds I would say he used a rock. A rock high in granite content." 

"Uh huh. All the bodies exhibit the same type of wounds." 

"Mulder what are you getting at here?" Carmen asked in a whisper. 

"Well, you suggested in the car and I agreed that this perp is somehow mixing up a hatred of authority with some kind of biblical mania - the floating crosses made of hay and straw rushes point in that direction. Now what old Testament figure was found floating in a river..." 

"Moses!" 

"Bingo. Now look. What do these cuts on her forehead resemble?" 

"Well I don't know exactly, they look random." 

"Those are superficial cuts, Agent Mulder. Probably caused when the body was transported to the bayou. We all ready know he didn¹t kill them there."

"I understand that but what you¹ve overlooked here Dr. Murphy is that each of these girls is marked on the forehead with a different Hebrew letter. The cuts may look random or superficial but they really aren't at all. They're just done delicately and are quite clear if you know Hebrew at all."

Murphy walked over and stared down at each girl's forehead in turn. "Shit, I'm Baptist, Agent Mulder. How..."

"Look, it was easy to miss, ok. They don¹t look like letters if you aren't familiar with Hebrew."

"So, do they mean anything?" asked Carmen.

"Gimel, Alef, Lamed, Nun" I spelled out, wishing my Hebrew was better. "It could be redeem, or .."

I shook my head. I was forgetting the rest of the profile. "Somehow, though, I doubt our killer is fluent in Hebrew. He probably just looked up the letters."

"So, is that G, A, L & N?" asked Carmen.

"Well, "alef" is a silent letter so it could really be any number of vowel sounds: A, or E, or Š."

"Mulder, the first four books of Moses are Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus..." Carmen began.

"And Numbers..." Murphy finished for her, "Every good Baptist does know that, Agent Mulder. I...Good Lord...I don't know what to say...."

"Forget it. Like I said, it was easy to miss ­ in fact, it doesn't even really make sense outside of this guy's twisted head. I mean, Genesis, Leviticus, etc. ­ those names come from Greek, not Hebrew. And the rest of your report is excellent. The blunt trauma is particularly important. You've all ready theorized the perp stoned these girls to death. I mean beat them to death with a rock. What type of rock?"

"I said possibly granite or marble..." the coroner mused. 

"Like a..." 

"Like a gravestone," the coroner whispered, "Oh sweet Jesus..." 

"Moses..." Carmen corrected distantly as she stared at the four bodies. 

The coroner began to speak then into the cold, still air of the morgue. The hair on my neck stood on end as he spoke. 

"And God appeared to Moses on Mount Sinai and he commanded, "Thou shalt set bounds unto the people round about saying, Take heed to yourselves, that ye go not up into the mount, or touch the border of it: whosoever toucheth the mount shall be surely put to death: There shall not a hand touch it, but he shall surely be stoned, or shot through; whether it be beast or man, it shall not live..." 

"Or apparently little girls as well," I interjected, "Carmen I think we'd better get a look at the crime scenes now. It sounds like they're all close together according to the file." 

"Yeah, he's been consistent in dumping the bodies. They've all been found floating in practically the same stretch of bayou." 

"Good, that'll save time. We need to work fast and then get down to headquarters. I have to brief Skinner and then the investigative team as soon as possible before Ashley Rhodes ends up as *The Book of Deuteronomy*. 

xXx 

It wasn't necessary to go over all the crime scenes as it turned out. Two were enough. I'd more than begun to formulate a theory. As we returned to headquarters at around noon I made some brief notes on what I needed to tell Walter. I thought distantly that I should have brought my lap top along. But I'd ditched it at the hotel thinking it too bulky to carry around and too delicate to be left in the hot Bu-car. Someone was going to need to retrieve it for me later so I could use it at headquarters. For now, I was resorting to the old fashioned method of writing in the little notebook Carmen had given me. It felt comforting somehow to see my thoughts go down in black and white. I needed all the comfort I could get by this point. 

I hoped to hell we would be in time to find the Rhodes girl before it was too late. Up until that point the killer had kept to a timetable. The bodies showed up after 72 hours and time of death placed at not long before discovery. He left the girls in an area where they would be seen floating by someone within a relatively short period of time. It showed the killer was bold. Confident that he could take risks and not be caught. The cocky bastard was shoving the dead kids down the FBI's throat because no one had caught on to what he was really trying to say with his crimes. 

But I was afraid that he was going to escalate. Decrease his timetable because of all the extra publicity - the prospect of tweaking his nose at the DC experts would really excite him. Get him hot to trot. He'd kill the Rhodes girl sooner then we planned and then dump her somewhere really public. Maybe she'd be found floating in a public park or fountain instead of the bayou this time. Some really spectacular spot to create optimum horror and panic. The press would eat us alive as a result and the perp would jerk himself off with every new front page headline. Groovy. I just love maniacs. Shit. 

The large meeting room set aside as command central for the Rhodes case at Headquarters was awash with agents working phones, studying maps, interviewing witnesses and just generally doing everything in their power to find their man. 

As Carmen and I entered the room, all eyes seemed to turn in our direction. It was obvious what they were all thinking. Here comes the answer man. And just like a jury coming in to render a verdict, all eyes followed us as we walked past the desks and tables filled with agents. I kept my eyes straight ahead. I had spotted AD Skinner all ready and kept my attention focused on getting to him as quickly as possible with my information. 

Walter was near the back of the room, standing next to a long table with a huge city map on it. The table stood in front of a wide window that ran almost the entire length of one wall. Sunlight streamed through it and I thought - God what a stupid architectural design. The damn greenhouse effect was making the AC work overtime. It wasn't quite keeping up with that blast furnace effect. The room was tepid. And I was still sweating, ragged from being out at the crime scenes. Lord. 

Walter was talking with ASAC Johnson Matthews. I didn't see SAC Adams anywhere near by. O-K. So, something had obviously happened. I supposed I'd find out in time. I let myself study Walter as he stood in the bright, hot sunlight streaming through the window. 

He had taken his suit coat off and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He was sweating a little again. His forearm hair gave off a golden glow in the reflected sun. I thought he looked even more like a bronze statue standing there. I swallowed hard as I watched him move to point at the map that was spread out on the table in front of him and Matthews. He looked like some big cat, fluid, tensed to spring into action. Hell, Mulder, rein it in here son I thought. I felt that hound dog hormone thing going on again and I struggled monumentally against it. I really did not need to let my dick rule my head right now. Please no. Now was not the time. I bit my lip hard in concentration. I caught Carmen looking at me with a quizzical expression on her face. 

"Would you like a coffee or a soda, Mulder? I...I'm going to get a Coke before I pass out from dehydration," she offered. 

I drew my attention away from the object of my inappropriate fantasies. 

"Yeah, I could really use some Ice Tea if you have any. If you don't, a Coke will be fine. And hell, could you get me some paper towels. I feel like I've taken a bath in my suit." 

"I'll see what I can rustle up. I'll be back as soon as I can. Mulder, why don't you take your suit coat back off for crying out loud. I thought DC got humid too. You should know better," she patted my arm quickly to temper her words, and was gone. 

"Hell yeah, I knew better. I'd taken it off at the crime scenes. But carrying the fucking thing in the heat had almost been too much as well. And DC humidity was nothing like Baton Rouge. The air felt like molasses in comparison. 

I continued my progress over to the AD and ASAC, removing my coat and loosening my tie as I did. Walter caught my approach and motioned for me to come over. 

"Mulder. Good. Do you have something to report?" 

"Yes, sir. Whenever you're ready." I threw my jacket over a chair. 

"Is Agent Guitteraz with you? I'd like to hear what she has to say as well." 

"She's getting us something to drink. We were both pretty parched." 

"Oh. Well that's fine. I need to tell you what's happened here anyway". He turned to nod at Matthews. 

"Mulder, you'll be addressing Johnson here as SAC Matthews from this point on. Scott Adams is no longer SAC for this local office. He's still here, and as far as the public and press is concerned he's still SAC. But internally he's history. I've put him out in the field going door to door canvassing additional witnesses. We need every bit of manpower we've got otherwise he'd be on medical leave of absence right now. As it is, as soon as this case is closed he'll be transferred to...some less stressful office." 

I nodded my head at Matthews. 

"So, what do you have for us, Agent Mulder?" the new SAC asked me just as Carmen returned with a cold Lipton's Brisk Ice Tea and her Coke Classic. 

"Here you go, Mulder," she said handing me the tea. She also handed me a wad of paper towels which I gratefully accepted. I swabbed my face and neck quickly with those, scrunched them up and then tossed them for a rim shot in a nearby wastebasket. I felt a bit better with a dry face. I gave my attention back to Walter. 

"Agent Guitteraz, I want to let you know..." Walter began to tell her about the change in the chain of command. Just as he started to speak there was a growing murmur of voices from the front of the room. 

Matthews looked up, "Oh shit," he cursed gesturing with his head. 

Walter looked in the direction we indicated and Carmen and I did the same. 

"Christ on a crutch," Walter swore. Standing at the front of the room with a small group of his own people, and talking to one of the senior field agents, was Senator Andrew Rhodes in all his florid glory. Little Ashley Rhodes must have been a late in life child for him. At least it looked like it. Rhodes appeared to be older than Walter, with a full head of carefully coifed steel gray hair. 

The senior agent was pointing in our direction and Rhodes was nodding and then sweeping towards us like a battleship, his entourage surrounding him like tugs piloting the ship into port. Any port in a storm I thought, as I watched Walter tensing to meet the Senators intrusion. 

As Rhodes drew close I could see the look of worry on his face. He looked like shit actually in his expensively tailored Brooks Brothers suit. So, the Senator must really love his little daughter. I felt my stomach go into knots at the prospect of what might happen to the little girl if we didn't find the perp in time. Obviously Rhodes had the same thing in mind. He reached our table and without even extending his hand addressed Walter. 

"Walter, now what are you going to do about finding my baby?" Oh boy I thought. The guys hands were shaking. He was pretty much near the breaking point all ready. 

"Andrew I..." 

"Walter, this is horrible, my poor wife..." 

I nodded my head again and watched as Walter took Andrew Rhodes gently by the arm and steered him into the nearby office and shut the door behind them. It seemed like the room let out a collective sigh of relief. The Senators entourage of five hangers on stuck together like a school of fish, but savvy fish - they knew enough to shut up and stay out of the way to one side of the room. I turned my attention to both Matthews and Carmen. I pulled the tab on my ice tea and took a healthy swig. It tasted delicious. 

"I feel for that man," Matthews ventured. 

"Yeah, that kid is his only child. Late in life kid like that too - it's a shame." Carmen interjected. 

"Is his wife younger?" I asked just out of curiosity. 

"I hope he won't either, sir. I'll try to see that doesn't happen. But we're going to have to work fast. I don't think we have as much time as we originally thought to find her..." 

"What do you mean?" Matthews asked. 

Just as I was about to answer him the door to the office opened and Walter stuck his head out. 

"Mulder?" he said gesturing for me to come into the room. I set the can of ice tea down on the table next to the map, picked up my suit coat, and started to turn to join the AD. But I needed to tell Carmen one last thing. 

"Carmen, can you fill in SAC Matthews please. I may be awhile here. Thanks." I asked Carmen with a slight grin. She didn't know about the change in command yet of course. Both her eyebrows shot up and then she smiled wide at Matthews. I turned and left them both by the table as Carmen began to explain the lay of the land to her new boss. 

xXx 

"Mulder, come in," Walter held the door for me and I entered the smaller room. I had shrugged into my jacket again so I'd look more formal. Walter once again shut the door behind us. His face was impassive but I could see a jaw muscle jump. Senator Rhodes was seated at a round table to one side with a paper cup of water from the nearby water cooler sitting in front of him. His face was ashen. 

"Andrew, this is Fox Mulder. I just wanted you to meet him. Agent Mulder is profiling the perpetrator. He's the best, Andrew, really. He's going to get this sick fuck." 

Rhodes looked up at me and smiled weakly. 

"I'd like to say it's a pleasure to meet you sir, but under the circumstances..." 

Rhodes nodded his head, "I more than understand, Agent Mulder. May I call you Fox?" 

"Yes sir." 

"Fox, Senator Matheson speaks very highly of you. I...I just hope you haven't, that you and Walter haven't been called in too late to do any good. God, that jerkwad Adams. I could string him up by his balls." 

"Andrew, Scott Adams' career with the Bureau is, for all intents and purposes, over. I wouldn't give that incompetent idiot another thought. Let's just concentrate on getting your little girl back safe now, all right?" Walter interjected softly. He had walked over to Rhodes and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"All right, Walter. Agent Mulder, can you tell me anything new. Anything that will help to find Ashley?" 

Oh Great I thought. I wasn't sure I wanted to tell the Senator my findings. First of all the true Modus Operandi and possible psychopathology of the killer were horrific enough. My conclusion that he was going to escalate wasn't what I thought the Senator wanted to hear at all. I glanced up into Walter's face. Once again he was very perceptive. When he spoke it was to the Senator. 

"Andrew, Agent Mulder hasn't even briefed me yet. I need to talk to him, and then he needs to brief the team as soon as possible. If you'd like to be present for that briefing I have no objections. Uh, but Andrew, it's going to be rough. I'm not going to gloss that over. I'm going to have to knock some heads and then we're going to be talking about the victims and in view of what you're going through I feel I need to warn you that may be extremely unpleasant for you." 

"Listen, Walter. I appreciate your saying all that, really. But...I just have to know. It's the not knowing that's driving Stacey, my wife, and I crazy. If I can just get a handle on the new direction the investigation is going to take and maybe have something concrete to report back to my poor wife then I'll be satisfied for now. I'll handle the briefing the best I can. I want to be included, please, Walter. Can you do that for me?" 

I watched Walter let out a long breath. His face softened then and he looked really very kind. I marveled at how he was rising to the occasion here. I also marveled at just how good he looked when his face wasn't a hard tight mask. He looked more handsome, tender, gentle and...I squelched those thoughts and keyed in on his professional abilities. Safer thoughts. I didn't expect anything less then professional acuity from him really. Walter Skinner is an excellent manager and people person. A keen observer of human nature in his own right. He knew just where to bend when necessary. This was one of those times. 

"All right, Andrew. Why don't you and your people go down to the cafeteria and get a late lunch or something. I'll send an agent down with all of you to take care of anything else you should want. When the briefing is going to begin I'll send someone else to bring you back up here." 

"Thank you, Walter," Rhodes replied, relief etched in every inch of his body. He got up, leaving the little paper cup of water on the table and advanced to Walter taking his hand. He shook it and said, "Walter I just want to thank you. No matter what happens I know you're doing your best. Stacey and I really appreciate it. Hell, the citizens of Baton Rouge appreciate it." 

Walter smiled tersely tight-lipped. The last part was political bullshit and he didn't appreciate hearing it under these conditions and from a reasonably close acquaintance. But he swallowed the ire and shook Rhodes hand firmly in return. 

"Thanks Andrew. I appreciate the vote of confidence." 

Rhodes let go of his hand and took mine in turn. He did have a firm if somewhat shaky grip. 

"And thank you too Agent Mulder. May God be with you." 

"Yes sir," I answered. God had better be with me or his little girl would be doing her baby Moses imitation up close and personal with God before too long I thought with disgust. 

Walter moved to open the conference room door. Rhodes walked out and motioned for his entourage to gather round. As he began to explain to them what was going to happen next, Walter called over one of the field agents and whispered into his ear. 

"You're off the phones for a while, Phillips. Take the Senator and his crew down to the cafeteria and sit on them. I want them sequestered, kept incommunicado until I'm ready to let them back up here for the briefing. Get them whatever they want to eat or drink, magazines to read, whatever. But keep them down there and don't let anyone in or out of that room. The rest of us can use the vending machines until after the briefing. Do you understand?" 

"Yes sir. Keep them under wraps until you give the word." 

"Very good son. Now get going." 

Phillips went to tap Rhodes on the arm and Walter came back in the office and shut the door. 

He crossed over to the table, picked up the paper cup of water and threw it in the wastebasket nearby then he motioned for me to sit down across from him. I took the proffered seat. 

I sat and watched as he removed his specs and cleaned them on the handkerchief he took out of his pants pocket. His jaw wasn't clenching as much but he looked tired, pinched. 

"Would you like a Coke or something cold to drink, sir? I could..." 

"Mulder, I've worked with you long enough to know what that look on your face means. We're in deep shit aren't we?" 

I let out a ragged sigh. 

"Tell me this kid isn't going to die, Mulder." 

"I wish I could say no, sir." 

"I was afraid you'd say that. This guy's going to escalate isn't he?" 

"That's my thought on the matter. Did you want Agent Guiterraz in here now, sir? I left her outside to fill in SAC Matthews." 

"In a minute. I want you to tell me how many hours we may have left here first. I have to consider damage control now too - what to do if this kids body shows up. I need to...I need to know what the fuck I'm going to tell her parents and the press if we don't get to her in time."

"I'd say less then 24 hours, sir. I think he'll do her and dump her someplace really public this time. She's apt to be floating in the fountain out front if this asshole is as bold as I think he is." 

"Fuck." 

"Yeah." 

Walter ran a hand over his mouth, "All right. Go get Guitteraz. I want to hear what she has to say too. She knows the area. Maybe she's got some bright ideas. From what I've seen of the evidence this guy is good. Very clever. Getting to him is going to be like finding a friggin' needle in a haystack." 

I got up and walked over to the door. Carmen was sitting at the table with Matthews obviously explaining what had become our theory as quickly as possible. As I called to her to come in Walter said, "Tell Johnson to join us as well. He should hear all this too." 

Both Johnson Matthews and Carmen entered and we all sat down around the table. It was pretty close quarters. Matthews had fished out some legal pads and pencils from a nearby desk for us to all take notes on. We settled ourselves and sat staring at Walter to see how he wanted us to proceed. Walter sat back away from the table, attempting to put us at ease by trying to look more relaxed himself. He studied us in return. Sun from the window flashed on his lenses. He finally spoke. 

"Agent Mulder, I'd like for you to go ahead and tell us all what you think we're up against. Then Agent Guitteraz I'd like to hear what you have to say. Johnson, if you have any ideas can you save them for last. I think I'd like to get all this in small doses here so my God damn head doesn't explode." 

"I hear you, Walter," Matthews smiled grimly. He sat back with his arms behind his head and waited for yours truly to give my recitation. 

"First of all I want to say that I don't think we have as much time as we thought to catch this guy. With all the extra publicity and the opportunity to tweak his nose at the DC FBI along with you folks he'll want to strike while the iron's hot. So I think the Rhodes girl has less then 24 hours to live."

"Shit," Matthews cursed." 

Carmen looked down at her hands. 

"Also I think he's going to float her boat someplace very public. Like a park, golf course or hell - maybe even a city fountain. I think he's getting ready to escalate out of control here. It just feels that way to me, and he'll want to cause as much public panic as possible because he'll get off on it." 

"So should we be telling the Baton Rouge PD to patrol the parks more heavily?" Matthews asked. 

"Wouldn't hurt. But by the time you catch him in the park it will be too late. He'll be dumping the body." 

"So you're suggesting a manhunt?" Walter asked, "a house to house search?" 

"I'm getting to that, sir. If you'll bear with me." 

"Ok. Basically we are looking for a male - likely unless we're looking at something even more bizarre here - from the evidence of rape. I'd say he'll fit the stereotypical serial killer profile in that he's more than likely between the ages of 25 to 35, of above average intelligence and white - they found Caucasian hair samples on the last girls body. When we bring the perp in, the semen and hair DNA analysis should tell us that we have the right man." 

"Right, we're prepared there, Agent Mulder. Now what else can you tell us to help collar this sucker?" Matthews asked again. 

"His MO is rather unique and I think that's the clue to apprehending him. We need to find a man who has real trouble with authority yet is in a position of authority. Also - he is deeply religious, maybe even involved in a church somehow. I don't think he's a priest, but he may be a lay minister or just someone who is very involved in his local parish. His pathology is such that he's using the sections of the Bible that deal with Moses to teach us all a lesson. I think - and I know I'm missing a piece of the puzzle here - but I think these kids - I think maybe they did something in his eyes - broke some rule, some infraction that he's blown up into a killing offense. Remember - we're dealing with someone who isn't operating in the real world here. These little girls could have done something as simple trespassed on his lawn and he equates that with walking all over Mount Sinai and offs them to fulfill that quote in the Bible. 

"You mean the one about God telling Moses anyone trespassing on Mount Sinai should be stoned to death?" Matthews asked incredulously. 

"Yes, sir," Carmen replied, "The coroner picked up on that idea right away. He had...well he'd overlooked the Hebrew letters on the girls heads that corresponded to the first four Books of Moses. Agent Mulder says that was easy to overlook however unless you knew ancient Hebrew." She smiled slightly at me and then she continued, "But he hadn't overlooked the fact that the girls were stoned to death." 

"Right, I knew they were killed by blunt trauma." Matthews nodded. 

"So they were stoned to death?" Walter interrupted, "I read that in the coroners report about the granite dust. I just thought..." 

"Sir, my guess is he bashed them to death with pieces of a gravestone. I think he quite possibly kills them near a church with an attached graveyard or near a cemetery and then disposes of the bodies in the bayou on those floating crosses to keep with the Moses motif. I think he's trying to send a warning that his version of biblical law should never be broken, by anyone on penalty of death." 

"Christ," Walter exclaimed, "But you said there was a piece you were missing?" 

"Yeah, I can't help feeling that...well somehow I think these kids are connected somehow. I'm leaning towards the perp knowing them or at least being familiar with them all. Otherwise I don't think he could have taken them so easily." 

Carmen interrupted me at this point and I was glad she did. I was beginning to run out of steam a little. I was grateful that she was taking up the slack. I think fatigue from the heat was catching up a little with me. "Agent Mulder and I would like to go over all the files on the girls again, sir to see if we can find some kind of common denominator. Something they had in common that might have put them near their killer. Like they all went to the same McDonalds or..." 

"A McDonalds near a church or graveyard?" Walter asked with a raised eyebrow, "Because if I hear you right we need to find a guy hanging out near a church or cemetery lying in wait for little girls so he can bop them with a headstone and then carve Hebrew letters in their foreheads because they might have picked his prize petunias. Am I close here, Agent Mulder?" 

"That about sums it up, sir." 

"There are a lot of churches in Baton Rouge, Mulder. And a lot of cemeteries," Matthews added his two cents. 

"I know that sir. But how many are near the bayous, and which ones might be near something else these little girls had in common? That's why I think Carmen and I need to go over the files. In the meantime, a house to house canvassing near each of the crime scenes to question witnesses again wouldn't be a bad idea. And also I think beefing up Baton Rouge police patrols in parks and near other public bodies of water might not be a bad idea either." 

Walter was studying my face closely. He ran a large hand over the back of his neck. I could see the wheels turning behind those deep brown eyes of his. Come on Walter, I thought. You know I'm right. Let's not waste any more time.

He glanced at his watch. 

"Agent Guitteraz, do you agree with Agent Mulder's assessment of the facts based on your previous knowledge of the case?" 

"Yes sir. Everything Agent Mulder has said is as close as we're going to get to the facts at this point." 

"What Carmen is too modest to admit, sir, is that she'd come up with some of this theory all ready. SAC Adams ignored most of her opinions," I sighed. I might as well give her the credit. She more then deserved it. 

"So I gather. Johnson here all ready told me about it. He also tells me Adams did the same with a lot of his theories as well." 

"Fraid so," Matthews added somewhat bitterly. 

Walter set his jaw and sat up straight in his chair, "Well, I'm not going to ignore any of it. Mulder and Guitteraz I want you to handle the briefing together. Lay it all out on the table just like you did here. Don't pull any punches. This group has to know there is very little time left to find that girl. Johnson, once the briefing is done I want you to organize that house to house and then get in touch with the local PD. Tell them SAC Adams is asking you to authorize the extra patrols. If they argue about it tell them to see me. I'll need to handle the Senator unfortunately, after this briefing. I don't imagine he's going to take any of it too well. Then, Johnson I want you and I to get ready for the press conference. Mulder and Guitteraz, you can start going over the files at that point." 

"We can use my office, Walter, if that's all right with you. Mulder, you and Carmen are welcome to use this office so the two of you can have some privacy." 

"Yes, that's fine, Johnson. So...that's may battle plan. Any questions or comments?" Walter finished by adding. 

"Sir, not that I want to be mundane here - but I think we could all use something to eat. I don't think it's a good idea to skip meals under the circumstances. We're going to need the energy." I suggested. I couldn't help it. I was starving and thirsty again too. I didn't want to get a headache from lack of food or dehydrated in the summer heat from lack of fluids. Wouldn't do at all to have your premiere profiler passing out on the job. 

"Oh yeah. Well the cafeteria will be less busy after the briefing. Why don't we get them to bring us up some sandwiches. That way we can keep working." Walter suggested 

"Works for me," I nodded. I just hoped my stomach wasn't going to growl during the briefing. Somehow I didn't think my complaining gut would help convey the real gravity of the situation. 

xXx 

He didn't knock individual heads for the failure of the investigation so far. He was fair. He just cited what had happened to SAC Adams, and informed everyone regarding their new SAC, Johnson Matthews. Walter implied that he was perfectly willing to take that SAC Adams career change idea right down the line if need be to the lowest clerk in the office if that person wasn't doing his or her job to the utmost of their abilities. Nuff said. 

At the conclusion of the briefing and the reports from the senior agents in charge, Walter turned the meeting over to Matthews to let him give out his first assignments as SAC. Everyone went about their assigned tasks. Walter took Senator Rhodes aside in private. The Senator had handled things better then we expected but he was still shaken. Walter sent him home to his wife to comfort her and wait. Rhodes was best out of the picture so the agents didn't have to see him wringing his hands over the next 24 or so hours. Johnson Matthews and Walter went to Matthews office to prepare for the press conference. 

Carmen and I went back to the smaller office with a shitload of files. Both of us took off our tailored suit coats again, slung them over chairs, rolled up *our* sleeves and got cracking. Lunch appeared. The cafeteria worker left a box full of sandwiches and sodas with us. 

Carmen laughed, "I bet that woman thought we were all still meeting in here. Ill take some of these over to Matthew's office." 

"Hey, that's ok. I can do it. Why don't you keep reading through those files? You're local, you may spot something more quickly at this point. Besides - I have to use the facilities anyway." I felt like my bladder was bursting by this point. I planned on hitting the can before I delivered the sandwiches and sodas. 

"Do you know where his office is?" 

"Yeah, I saw which way AD Skinner and SAC Matthews were headed." 

"Ok. Just down the hall. His name is on the door. The men's room in on the way. And Mulder..." 

"Yeah." 

"Leave me the ham and Swiss, ok?" she chuckled bending back to read the file in front of her. 

"Will do," I smiled. I pulled several sandwiches, ice teas and Cokes out of the box and leaving the remainder in it headed out of the room and down the hallway towards Matthews office. 

I reached Matthew's office door, and balancing the box, knocked on it. 

"Come," Walter replied from inside. I switched the box under one arm and grasping the door handle, twisted it. I levered the door open with my hip and entered the room. 

Walter was alone. He was sitting in a chair looking out the window over the city of Baton Rouge. I wondered - where the hell is Matthews? But I didn't think about Matthews for long. I started to think about Walter almost at once. To think about his wide, muscular back. The sweet view of his neck just above his collar. There was just a little sweat below his hairline. His...oh brother. Not good, Mulder. Not good at all. I swallowed hard and hefted the box of sandwiches up in my hands. 

"A cafeteria worker brought this box of sandwiches and sodas up to the other office. Carmen figured she thought we were all still meeting in there," I said quietly. 

Walter didn't turn his head from the window. Instead he just started to talk in a very quiet, dreamy voice. 

"You know, Baton Rouge is a really lovely city. I was down here once, years ago...one of my first cases. It's changed a lot but it...it's still quite a graceful city." 

I watched the back of his neck. He looked stiff. His shoulders looked really tight. The back of his shirt was a little stained with perspiration. I put the box down on a low table just inside the door and walked over to stand in back of his chair. I looked out the window as well. 

"It's a lot like New Orleans without the Mardi Gras trappings," I replied. 

"Mardi Gras, shit. That's a zoo". His chuckle was barely audible, "Have you ever been to Mardis Gras, Mulder?" he added in that calm, slightly distracted voice again. 

"No, sir." 

I did something then that, well, I knew was a stupid thing to do, but I went ahead and did it anyway. I couldn't stop myself. I guess it was just a reaction to the moment. Or my hopping hormones rearing their horny little heads. Or maybe just the fact that I knew Walter Skinner was under a lot of stress, hurting right at that moment in time. 

I reached forward and touched his shoulders with both my hands and then I started to knead the stiff muscles at the base of his neck. I felt him stiffen up immediately. I thought oh shit, I've done it now. Here comes the kick in the ass. But he didn't say anything. In fact, he relaxed suddenly and leaned back against me, allowing my hands to work his corded tendons all the way down into his back. 

I tried to keep my touch as impersonal as possible. To just act like this was a co-worker, a friend doing a service for another friend in a very bad situation to relieve some tension. But it was a struggle. And as Walter's tension started to leave his muscles it started to creep into mine. And one muscle in particular. But I still couldn't stop. And for some reason I got the idea that Walter didn't want me to stop either. Maybe it was the fact that his warm, heavy, back was resting against my cock and balls and he wasn't going out of his way to shift forward. Jesus he smelled good. What the hell is that aftershave, cologne? Old Spice? Hell, I think my father used to wear.... 

I felt like I should say something at that point. I was almost afraid to speak but I went ahead and took a chance. 

"You...you looked really tight, sir. I...I do this for Scully sometimes. It always helps." Christ did I have to stammer? I thought. 

He made a small noncommittal noise in his throat and let his head sag down against his chest. 

I continued to apply pressure to all the knotted spots I could find all the while wondering where the hell Matthews was, but not caring in the least as long as he stayed away for as long as possible. I wanted to keep touching Walter. I didn't want to stop at all. 

"Is this good?" I asked in a whisper as I rotated his shoulders. 

"Yeah. Great," he rumbled, his voice muffled against his chest. I stopped rotating his arms and went back to the massage, loosening kink after kink as I moved my hands all over his back. 

I let my mind wander to images of what it would be like if his shirt and t-shirt were off. I'd seen him in the gym weight room a couple of times stripped to the waist. That's why I knew he looked like that Rodin stature. He was in great shape for a 46 year old guy. God, I would just like ...someday...to touch...to touch...stroke his naked....ssskin...I wasn't paying attention. I had let my hands stray to either side of his head and my impersonal touch had turned to more of a caress. 

"Mulder..." 

I held my breath. Oh God, I'm a dead man." 

"Sir?" I choked out. 

"Agent Scully is a very lucky woman." 

My mouth dropped open, but before I could say anything else I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I let go of Walter's head like I'd been burned. I was incredibly hot. I was partly erect and my breath had picked up enough that my arousal was going to be obvious to whoever was standing behind me. I thought - please don't let it be Matthews. But what if it was...oh shit. I turned around to see Carmen Guittiraz standing in the doorway, my cell phone in her hand and a puzzled, but amused look on her face. 

"Agent Mulder, you're cell phone was ringing so I took the liberty of answering it. It's your partner, Dana Scully, calling from San Diego." 

"Thanks Carmen. I'll be back down to the other office in a couple of minutes." She grinned at me slightly. Looked from me back over to Walter and turning on her heel disappeared from whence she had come. Oh wonderful. She must have been standing there long enough to see me feeling up my boss. OK. Well the ball was in her court. I wasn't going to bring up the issue if she didn't say anything. If she did I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. I put the cell phone to my ear and spoke into the opposite end. 

"Scully can you hang on a second? I need to finish up with AD Skinner." Finish up? Oh fuck, no kidding. I was more than finished. I was very well done meat. Burned toast. Oh crap. 

"All right, Mulder. I'll hang on," Scully replied from the other end. She sounded much less tense. It sounded like good news was in the offing. I felt a bit better thinking about her. I let my mind focus on thoughts of Scully. Thinking of Scully started to drive Walter out of my mind. 

I turned towards Walter where he was standing with his back against the windows now. The sun made him nothing but a black outline. I couldn't see his face, the expression on it or the one in his eyes. But his posture told me that he'd more than known what I'd been doing. Known and wasn't quite sure how to react. But he wasn't leaning towards anger. If anything his posture was attentive. Questioning. I mulled that idea over for a split second and then decided I really wanted to get back to talking to Scully. 

"I'll just take this call down the hall," I told him gesturing out the door. 

"Fine, Agent Mulder," he replied in that gruff voice of his, "thanks for bringing in the sandwiches and sodas." He turned away from me again and his gaze took in the city view once more. 

O-K. So he wasn't going to say anything right now either. Fine by me. I'd just as soon put a bag over my head and hide my shame then talk to him about what just happened. I nodded in understanding and left in a big, hurry, passing Johnson Matthews as he walked back up the hallway, his arms full of files. 

xXx

Scully' brother had turned the corner and was going to pull through. He'd have a long recuperation ahead of him but with any luck he'd be able to return to duty eventually. Scully was going to spend another week helping her sister-in-law to deal with the situation and then she and her mother would fly back to DC together. I wished her and her family well, told her I missed her terribly (which was really true at that point) and I looked forward to seeing her back in DC. I didn't dwell on the case. She had seen enough of it in the news to know it was horrendous. I didn't see the need to make her worry about me when she had enough on her mind all ready. She would certainly be seeing a lot more news soon anyway after the press conference. 

After the call I'd gone back to join Carmen Guitteraz in the second office where she sat up to her ears in case files.

I entered silently, leaving the door open to keep the AC circulating to a bearable level. I grabbed a sandwich and can of ice tea and sat down across from her at the round table. I was surprised to see my laptop resting there.

Carmen noticed my raised eyebrows. 

"I had Agent Sanders go to your hotel room and retrieve your laptop. I hope you don't mine. I hate the things personally. But I'm somewhat of a Luddite. Ted used to make fun of me..." she let her voice trail off, a furrow on her brow. 

"Oh, hey, no problem. Thanks. Scully tells me my lap top and cell phone are like my security blankets. She's probably right. I appreciate you having it brought down." 

She nodded and went back to her files. I opened the laptop and booted it up. I had some additional information in the thing on the Old Testament I thought. Something I'd stored from a couple of X-Files ago. Maybe it would help I thought as I grabbed for a file from the stack sitting between us while the PC woke up. 

The clock on the wall said 3:15 PM. Not much time left until the press conference. I had hoped we'd have that last piece of the puzzle by that point. I would have liked to be able to hand Walter the pigs head on a platter so he could stand up in front of the media and say - "We got our man." And preferably got him before he'd added Ashley to the list of victims. But it looked like those prospects were fading fast. Carmen and I were working our asses off and not making much headway. But we were working well together. Smoothly. if something was to be found I thought we'd be more then capable of finding it. And I really did think the last clue was somewhere in the morass of data sitting on that table.

It felt so close... 

4:00 PM rolled around and Walter came in through the office door. 

"Mulder?" I looked up and read the obvious question on his face. 

"Nothing yet, Carmen?" 

"No. I'm tracing the girl's whereabouts on the day each of them was taken right now - but so far zilch." 

"All right, Look. I don't want either of you at this press conference. I'd just as soon have you up here continuing to work on this angle. There isn't much time and I don't think your talents should be wasted fielding idiot questions from the fucking media." 

"I appreciate that, sir." I replied. No shit. I knew what the newshounds would want from me. My *Close Encounters of the Third Kind* life story. Walter knew it too. Neither one of us wanted my work on the X-Files to detract from the importance of this case. I'd probably stay in seclusion up here unless I was really needed in the field - which I hoped I wasn't. I'd be perfectly content to play Mycroft Holmes in the FBI Diogenes club, solving the case in my head to the successful conclusion. Fine by me. When the time was right I'd even let Carmen take all the credit and deal with the press as well. She'd do just fine in that area. 

"I thought you might, Mulder," Walter nodded a knowing smile just gracing his lips, "Johnson and I have come up with a prepared statement anyway. I don't intend to answer very many questions either. We're going to release to the press just enough information about the case and the perp to get the public involved a bit in trying to apprehend him. I don't like this idea but Senator Rhodes is offering a reward. His representative will be in on the press conference as well," he shook his head and pushed his glasses up his nose, "I guess that will divert some attention off me at least," he sighed and gave us a tight smile. Despite the put upon attitude Walter seemed a bit refreshed. He was gearing up for battle. His eyes were alert and sharp. Shit he looked good I thought. Yeah, like a God damn Greek General at the walls of Troy. I smiled back. So did Carmen. 

"Having the citizens of Baton Rouge acting as eyes and ears can't be too bad an idea, sir," Carmen added kindly. She was studying Walter carefully. I could tell she respected him. She knew he was working hard to see things were done right and came to the best conclusion if at all possible. 

"I hope we're right there but I do tend to agree with you, Agent Guitteraz. So, you two keep plugging away too. If you come up with anything we can use - sing out." 

"We will sir," I replied. 

"Good luck," Carmen added. 

"No danger of that, sir," I chimed in a bit too brightly, eagerness in my voice before I thought better of it. Oh shit. Way to go Mulder. Let's just tell him he looks like your mental picture of a Greek Warrior and that you're warm all over because...Oh hell." 

Walter raised an eyebrow and pinned my eyes. Something passed across his face, an intense look that caused me to swallow hard and press my legs together under the table. Carmen was glancing from one of us to the other again. 

"Johnson has an electric razor in his office, sir. I'm sure he'd be happy to let you use it," she interjected quickly, defusing the electricity in the air. 

Walter's eyes lifted from mine and I felt like a rabbit that had been released suddenly from the hawk's predatory gaze. His eyes relaxed their heated look a bit and settled back into their former ready for battle alertness. He focused on Carmen. 

"Thank you, Agent Guitteraz. I'll probably ask him to use it." He nodded one more time, turned and was gone. I let my breath out in a rush. I hadn't even been aware I was holding it. 

"He's kind of intense isn't he?" Carmen asked carefully. 

"Intense? He's a slave driver," I said absentmindedly. Slave? Oh yeah. I wanted to be his slave. His naked, oiled up boy toy, fanning his hard, muscled, reclining....Oh Jesus. I was still staring at the spot Walter had just vacated. I thought in panic for a moment that if I wasn't careful I'd be panting, drooling or letting my tongue hang out in a second. I pulled my eyes away from the door and back over to Carmen's face. 

Oh Fuck I thought instantly. The look on her face told me one thing before she slammed it down into impassive regard. Busted. She knew where I was coming from all right as far as Walter was concerned. Great. I could see the unasked question before she sealed her face up tight. She was almost as good as Scully at masking her emotions. Almost but not quite. I thought I had to say something. Maybe it wasn't a good idea but my gut was ruling my head right then I had the urge to either scream of try to deflect the situation. I opted for deflection. 

"Carmen..." I began. 

"Look, Mulder. Uh, let's not go there right now, OK. I...we can talk later. I really think we need to concentrate on these files. Don't worry about it. Just...which file is that you're looking at now?" 

I stared at her for a second. Yeah. She was more than right. Shit. My rampaging hormones and sex fantasies were the last thing that should be on the table here. We needed to get down to business and get down to it fast or a little girl was going to die. I castigated myself mentally. I needed a good kick in the ass. 

"Mulder?" 

"Yeah. Sorry. Ok. These are background files on the girls. I mean vaccination, dental, school records, that kind of thing." 

"Oh. Listen. Let's switch files. I'm reading some reports I put together here and they're too familiar. I think Marge Blake put those notes you have there together. Let me look at her notes and I think I'm more likely to spot something." 

"Sure," I breathed out, passing the file across the table towards her. 

xXx 

The press conference ended and we still hadn't found anything. I heard people talking outside the office about how it had gone. It sounded like the score had been Walter Skinner 1 press zip but I couldn't be sure. I couldn't afford to concentrate on the conversation. I needed to stay focused on the matter at hand. 

Walter came back by again and told us things had indeed gone well. Matthews and he were going to help man the phones. Calls from citizens would start to come in. They had given phone numbers out for the express purpose of phoning in tips. The house to house was continuing augmented now by Baton Rouge police. The state police were beginning to pitch in as well in patrolling around public bodies of water. The net was tightening. I only hoped it was going to catch the fish. 

Dinner appeared. Pizza. But neither Carmen or I touched it. At 8 PM Carmen looked up from the file containing a bunch of newspaper clippings she'd been reading. When she spoke all my senses went into overdrive. 

"Mulder?"

"What?" 

"Listen. I'm not sure but..." 

"Do you have something?" 

She looked up and I saw it in her eyes. Excitement. She had the scent. I got up and walked around the table. I sat down next to her. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her upper lip. 

"Show me," I said quietly. 

"All right. Look. These are newspaper clipping about Senator Rhodes campaign. I collected these early in the case from microfiche records. I was trying to get at the political angle at the time. You know - the idea that one of his enemies..." 

"OK, but that didn't track." 

"Right. Anyway I was just going over these again and I noticed something. This article mentions his little girl attending St. Joan Antida Catholic Grade School..." 

"St. Joan Antida?" I asked. My mind raced. Click. That wasn't right. I knew it instantly. 

"But that's not correct. Where's that other file..."

I plowed through the pile of paper until I came up with the girl's school records. I pulled the slim folder on Ashley Rhodes. 

"This says she attends public school. Wait. I leafed to the bottom. She enrolled in public school only two months prior to her abduction. Before that she attended St. Joan Antida." 

"I told you Marge was thorough," Carmen grinned. I began to flip through all the school records. 

"They all attended school together," Carmen whispered. 

"Bingo!" I smiled. Carmen shifted in her chair and I got up then and started to pace. 

"Right, right. OK. Now. Does the school have a graveyard, a cemetery near it?" 

"Mulder, let me think. I don't think it does. My aunt went to school at St. Joans. It's really old. Very exclusive. Shit. I need a city map." 

I walked quickly over to the door. The large map that Walter and SAC Matthews had been studying earlier was still outside on the long table in the big conference room. Carmen got up to follow me out. 

Walter was manning a phone at one of the desks nearby. He had just hung up and saw me emerge from the office. He took one look at my face and was on his feet and at the table even before we reached it. 

"Talk to me Mulder," he barked. He invaded my space as I stood over the city map of Baton Rouge. 

"Sir, Carmen discovered that all five girls actually attended school together. The fact was overlooked because...well someone just didn't look closely enough at the files or didn't put two and two together until now. It's not important. All five girls were students at St. Joan Antida Catholic School. Ashley Rhodes transferred to public school only 2 months before she was snatched." 

"And this is the connection you were looking for?" Walter asked. He stood very close and looked deep into my eyes. 

"I think so. I want to look for a cemetery or graveyard. A church, something like that near the school. Carmen doesn't think the school itself has anything like that attached to it. But she's familiar with the area. We're going to look on the map to double check and see if anything else jumps out at her." 

Johnson Matthews had noticed our tete at tete by this time and having finally gotten off the phone came over to the table.

"Is this good news?" he asked hopefully. 

"I think so, Johnson. Go on Mulder." 

"Sir, we need to look for a church or cemetery near the St. Joan Antida Catholic Grade School." 

"Is that near the bayou?" Matthews asked perceptively. 

"Here, look." 

We all gathered around where she was pointing. 

"This is St. Joan Antida..." she began. 

"What?" Walter asked as her voice stopped. 

"Oh my God. Sirs, this is Divine Savior Holy Angel, three blocks away." 

"The church?" I asked bending to look closer. 

I looked up at Walter. He read me again like a book.

"Johnson, I want you to contact both Baton Rouge PD and whatever team we have in the area..." 

"That would be Danvers and Washington, Walter." 

"Ok, Good. Get on the horn and tell them all we may know where this jerkwad has his little hidey hole. Have them stake it out. Tell the PD to use plain clothes and unmarked cars, dicks, whatever, just no uniforms. Don't tell them to move in unless they're sure something's up and then to use extreme caution. We don't want this guy capping the kid because he smells us coming on."

 "Are we coming on, Walter?" Matthews asked with a grin. 

"Like flies on shit, Johnson. Get your car."