From: macspooky@erols.com (Macspooky)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Gener/Inlaw(1) Macspooky/Juliettt
Date: 4 Oct 1995 08:54:17 -0400


Here is Chapter 1 of Mother-In-Law, the latest in the Generations
series.  There are a total of 15.  Enjoy!  Mac and Juliettt

Here is the next installment of Generations.  Things definitely got
out of hand! 15 Chapters!  I even tried a real case this time around,
probably its weakest link.  It introduces some new, and I hope fun,
characters for everyone to enjoy.

ALL THESE CHARACTERS ARE FICTIONAL AND ANY RESEMBLENCE TO THOSE LIVING
OR DEAD IS UNINTENDED.  Some of the places are fictional as well,
although Mad Martha's and the ferry company are real.  Something else
marvelous happened too.  I ended up taking on a cowriter, Juliettt,
who was editing for me and sent me a chapter she wrote for fun.  It
was so beautiful, and fit so well, that we decided to finish the story
together.  It's been fun, and I think her writing added wonderful
insight to my new characters at a time when I was floundering.  I
won't give away any more here.  Anyway, "Xfiles" and it's characters
still belong to CC, 1013, Fox, et. al and I'm, no, we, are still
borrowing them.  No copyright infringement is intended, no profit
being made except by them (I hope because then they will keep it
going).  A brief thanks to Windsinger for letting me run my initial
plot line by her.  It was appreciated.  All comments can be addressed
to Juliettt or Macspooky @aol.com I absolutely promise that my next
stories are going to be upbeat and happy!  Thank you for bearing with
me while the Mulder's go through a down phase.  It's life! Rated R for
adult situations.  Story completed by Juliettt and Macspooky 9/2/95.



                              Mother-In-Law

                                   by
                                    
                                Dynamic Duo of Juliett and Macspooky
                                    
                                        
                                    
Chapter I
                                    
     Dana was tired and cranky.  It had been a long, hard day at work.
She had had to go down to Quantico in the morning and teach a class.
She had returned to Washington around mid- day and had then had to
perform two autopsies on an emergency basis because another
pathologist was out sick.  She hadn't had any lunch, and her head was
pounding.  She came in the door to see two of Mulder's jackets tossed
over the back of the chair, yesterday's and today's.  There was a mess
of sunflower seeds on the end table near what had once been her chair.
They were spilling over unto the floor.  Two empty beer bottles sat
nearby.  Her husband was stretched out in the recliner in jeans and a
t-shirt, with the newspaper.  He looked pretty damn sexy with his five
o'clock shadow.  The jeans were awfully tight.  He looked very good in
tight jeans. Hell, he looked better without them. To her, he looked
best in absolutely nothing.  She felt her skin begin to tingle at the
thought of her husband wearing nothing.  She did not smell anything
cooking, however.  Since it was his night to cook, and since she was
starving, this did not bode well.  It made her forget how he looked in
tight jeans, or without them, for the moment.
     "Hi, sweetheart," he said giving her his best Mulder grin.  He
was about to ask her what restaurant she would like to eat at, since
he wasn't very good at cooking and hated it anyway.  He looked at her
with frank admiration.  She was looking really sexy in the short skirt
he had seen her pull out of the closet that morning, a little too
sexy.  Once, he had made the mistake of suggesting that she not wear
the newly fashionable short skirts.  The suggestion had gone over like
a lead balloon.  He had had to do a lot of hugging and kissing then,
and a lot of explaining that he just didn't like other men looking at
her, that he wanted to keep her all to himself, to smooth her ruffled
feminist feathers.  She didn't like possessiveness and had reminded
him smugly that he had always had her to himself. Her point had been
well taken.  It was the truth.
     "Enough of that, Mulder," he admonished himself in order to get
his mind off her beautiful body.  He had been good.  He hadn't touched
her in nearly three months.  God, it was hard.  He wanted her so
badly. He could feel the ache in his groin.  His jeans got suddenly
tighter.  Still, he wasn't going to do anything to risk hurting her
again, anything at all.  He had promised himself.  Fox still woke up
with nightmares in which he saw her lying on Skinner's floor in a pool
of blood.  It wasn't worth it.  No matter how wonderful making love
was, it wasn't worth losing her over. If Dr. Chan had said she
shouldn't get pregnant for three months, he would not risk doing
anything to put her in that condition. They had already had a birth
control failure.  Condoms could break.  Fox only wished she
appreciated his sacrifice more.
      Mulder knew he was in trouble when she put her hands on her hips
and glared.  Lately the tension between them was growing unbearable.
Neither of them slept well, and Dana seemed miserable and unhappy.
She had been very cranky.  He knew why.  He had, as he frequently
teased her, created a monster.  The woman he so fondly called "Shorts"
enjoyed their sex life immensely, and now she missed it. They said
after you had been married awhile, passion died down, but in her case,
the more time that passed, the greater Dana's passion for him seemed
to grow.  The more it grew, the deeper his love for her became.  It
was scary sometimes. He wasn't sure he liked having that much power
over her.  He knew himself.  It was too easy for a guy like him to
hurt her, not meaning to, but just because he was the way he was
sometimes.  He hadn't forgotten the way he had gone off the deep end
just before Christmas and caused her so much anxiety.  Dana Katherine
Mulder was the last person in the world he ever wanted to injure, but
because their relationship was so intense, she would be the first
person who would get hurt.
     "Goddam it, Fox, why the hell is this place such a mess, and
where the hell is dinner?"
     "Hey, it's not a mess," he replied.  To him the pile of sunflower
seeds didn't seem particularly large.  She was just too damn fussy
sometimes.
     "And just what do you call that?" she inquired pointing at the
seeds and the beer bottles.
     "Shells and beer bottles?" he replied rising to his feet.  She
was aggravating him now.  He was pretty cranky himself these days.
     "And, what do you call these?"  she asked him tossing the jackets
that she had picked up in his direction.  They landed on the floor,
annoying her more.
     "My jackets."
     "Well, hang them up, and vacuum up the seeds," she ordered.  She
had promised herself on the day they got married, she would never make
an issue of the jackets, but the promise was momentarily forgotten.
She glanced in the direction of the parrot he had bought her,
ostensibly as her birthday gift, who now sat in the corner happily
scattering feathers and even more seeds. It was a far cry from the
emerald earrings of the year before.  Try as she might not to, she
hated that bird, or rather the bird hated her.  In spite of the fact
that Mulder called it Krycek, she knew it must be female.  It adored
Mulder.  It would sit on his finger and pluck sunflower seeds from
between her husband's lips endlessly, but let Dana go near it, and it
shrieked and screamed at a decibel level that was unbelievable for a
creature it's size.  Once it had even bitten her hard enough to draw
blood when she was putting food in its cage.  "And while you are at
it, you can vacuum up after Phoebe," she continued in her best Gestapo
voice, the one that always brought out the "better" aspects of her
husband's nature.
     "His name is Krycek."  Fox was suddenly angry..  She was being a
real bitch tonight, and he hadn't, in his opinion, done anything to
deserve it.  Didn't he love her more than anything in the world?
Wasn't he always telling her so? What the hell did she want from his
life?
     "Her name is Phoebe."  It was a stupid argument, but Dana didn't
care at that point.  She wanted a neat house and dinner, not to
mention sex.
     "What the hell is your problem tonight, Scully?" he demanded.
     "What's my problem ?  It's the one that you don't have because
YOU take LONG showers every morning ,while I go to work every day
feeling miserable."  That hurt.  He had been taking long, cold showers
every morning.  Fair was fair. He wouldn't leave her feeling miserable
alone. If it had been anyone else but Mulder, he would have told her
that and diffused her temper, but of course, he didn't.  He just
glared at her for a moment looking dark and forbidding, a fact which
wasn't frightening her in the least at the present time.
     "Dana, we've had this argument before.  Amy said we should wait
at least three months before..."
     "Before I got pregnant again.  She didn't say you couldn't touch
me."
 
     "Well, three months isn't quite up yet, and even so, you should
appreciate the sacrifice I'm making ,and stop being such a bitch."  He
hoped he sounded genuinely hurt.  Dark and forbidding wasn't doing it
tonight.  Hurt worked better on her sometimes.
     "Damn you, Fox Mulder...." Dana was suddenly furious and close to
tears.  She picked up a nearby vase, and in a fit of redheaded Irish
temper, threw it at him.  She was tired. She was hungry.  Her head
hurt.  She was sick of her formerly immaculate house being a mess.
The bird drove her nuts, and last but not least, she was horny.  She
had gotten used to him, gotten used to making love to him nearly every
night.  No, it was more than that.  He still sent jolts of electricity
through her.  She wanted him.  She needed him, needed to be loved by
him, especially now, especially after losing the baby, and he didn't
seem to understand.
     Fortunately for Mulder, he was athletic.  He easily caught the
vase.
     "You know, you aren't the only man in the world," she threatened.
She didn't mean it.  God, she would never think of going to bed with
another guy. The very thought made her skin crawl.  She knew she was
being a bitch.  She just didn't seem to be able to stop herself.
     "F --k Krycek for all I care," he roared throwing the vase back
at her. He may not have had red hair, but he certainly had a temper
that matched if not surpassed hers.  Just the thought of her with
another guy made him crazy.  He hated that threat.  She had used it
once before, in a fit of anger, right before they had gotten married.
He hadn't appreciated it then.  He certainly didn't appreciate it now.
Dana ducked as it flew past her head.  It crashed into the wall
adjoining their nextdoor neighbor with a loud thud and shattered.  In
ducking, Dana managed to knock over her favorite planter, a large,
heavy clay pot, containing a beautiful Jade plant.  It landed with a
crash and broke, spilling dirt all over, just as Krycek began to
shriek for the very first time, the words Fox had been so patiently
been teaching him, "Help, murder.  Help, murder.  Help, murder."
     It took Dana nearly five minutes to get rid of the nice policemen
who knocked on the door.  She told them, giving them her prettiest
smile, that the only one that was going to get killed was the goddamed
parrot, whose neck she was going to ring if he yelled "help, murder"
one more time.  The officers said they thought it would be justifiable
homicide and returned to their patrol car with something to talk
about, smirking all the way.
     Dana broke out the vacuum cleaner.  She knew that the only way
the mess was going to get cleaned up was if she did it herself.
Leaning against the dining room table surveying the scene, she felt
herself getting angry all over again.  Seeing the look on her face,
Fox decided he better do some sweet talking, try his best little boy
grin, find a way to placate her, or his life wasn't going to be worth
living.  It also occurred to him that his wife was beautiful when she
was mad, beautiful and sexy.  He approached her to try to talk to her,
but Dana Scully had learned a lot since she had gotten married.  Hell,
she had had a good teacher.  Before he knew it, she had hopped up on
the table and wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulled his mouth
down to hers and inserted her tongue between his lips.  He realized
that his wife was not only ready to resume mating, but was, in fact,
truly desperate to do so.  There was no way he was going to get out of
it. He was melting. Hell, he didn't want to get out of it.  His brain
was no longer in control.  The fight of the decade ended quickly in a
moment of ecstasy, with Dana doing what he teasingly called her
Bridget Feeney screaming act, and a loud crash, as the dining room
table, the one with the loose leg she had been asking him to fix for
two months, collapsed with a bang that shook the apartment like an
earth quake, just as Krycek once again resumed screaming "help,
murder" at the top of his little parrot lungs.
     They burst out laughing with relief, not to mention the
ludicrousness of the situation.  Dana observed that her butt was going
to be black and blue for at least a week.  He told her that it was her
own damn fault for wanting him to be on top all the time.  It was no
more than she deserved for making him do it to her on top of the
dining room table instead of restraining herself until they could go
to bed.  She countered that he had done it with her, not to her, and
she did not scream like Bridget Feeney. Of course, she knew she did
sometimes, but was never going to admit it.  They were laughing so
hard, it came as a big surprise when there was once again a loud knock
at the door.  This time it took Dana ten minutes to convince the same
nice policemen that no crime was being committed.  What finally did it
was she brought her hand out from behind her back, revealing a pair of
torn flimsy purple panties.  They realized then that it wasn't murder.
It was marital mayhem that had ended in domestic bliss.
     "Put a cover over the bird cage and go to bed," admonished the
younger of the two officers.  They said they would not be back that
night under any circumstances and left, snickering, with something
really great to discuss with their buddies in the donut shop.
     Fox and Dana decided that the mess could wait.  They called the
"take out taxi" and had their favorite Chinese food delivered.  They
then threw a sheet over an insulted Krycek's cage, and when dinner
came, retired to the bedroom and fed each other with chopsticks
between various positional experiments.  Their relationship was back
on track.  Their normal passion and tenderness had returned.  Fox
admitted ,finally, that the bird had really been a new toy for him
since he had given his fish tank to Michael, and that he hadn't been
able to think of anything else creative to get her for her birthday.
Dana confessed that she could get to like it, if only it didn't always
try to bite her when she fed it.  It was insulting.  He told her that
the showers he took every morning were ice cold and that he hated it.
She whispered in his ear that she loved him, and needed him, needed
what he left inside her to feel complete.  Her words made him feel
wonderful and manly.  He gave her a final kiss.  They snuggled down,
as they had always done before the miscarriage.  Before they fell into
a deep contented sleep, Dana whispered to him that she hoped there
would be a baby inside her, and that he shouldn't be afraid.  Their
bed had once again become a haven against the outside world and the
horrors they encountered in their work.  They would wake up in the
morning, and life would once again be good.


     Assistant Director Walter Skinner sat in his office, the phone
pressed to his ear, and listened carefully.  He knew he had a problem.
There was no way that he could keep Mulder off of this one, and no way
that he could assign him either.
     "Alright," he said into the phone, "fax me the relevant
materials.  Yes, yes, I'll send you the best forensic pathologist we
have.  Yes, I understand....right....Goodbye."
     Skinner hung up the phone and sighed. He supposed he should have
been grateful that he had been contacted first.  None-the-less, his
head was already starting to pound.  A mass grave had been found by a
hiker trespassing in a wooded area on Martha's Vineyard, land that
belonged to a retired Senator, a man who still had clout. The grave
was hiding the bodies of at least ten children, perhaps more.  The
investigation had just begun.  The bodies hadn't even been fully
excavated yet, and it was already hitting the fan.  Martha's Vineyard
meant mega bucks.  Martha's Vineyard mean powerful politicians with
Irish last names.
     Fox Mulder had been born on Martha's Vineyard.  Fox Mulder's
little sister Samantha had disappeared without a trace from Martha's
Vineyard when she was only eight years old.  The case had never been
solved.
     "Yes," thought Walter Skinner, "even without the money and the
politicians, the egos and the power trips, it was already hitting the
fan."  There was no way he could keep Fox Mulder away from Martha's
Vineyard.  With a sigh, he signed a blank form authorizing his
spookiest agent to take leave without pay and called Dr. Dana Scully,
one of the best forensic pathologists he knew, the best at her job,
and the best at keeping Special Agent Fox Mulder in line.  It was the
best compromise he could think of.  One of these days, he would have
peace.  He thanked the heavens that he was eligible to retire.  He
thought about it more and more these days.  One day soon, he and Meg
would take that final step and tie the knot.  When they did, he wanted
some peace and some time to spend with her.  One of these
days.....Walter Skinner reached into his draw and took out two
Excedrin.  He would have to call Meg later and let her know what was
going on.  She would never forgive him if he didn't.

     Unfortunately, by the time Dana got home to start packing for the
trip to the Vineyard, Fox already knew.  His mother had called him,
begging him to come, telling him that she didn't think she could stand
it if he wasn't there.  She didn't think any of the bodies could be
Samantha.  Samantha was already dead, but she still needed him. The
reporters were driving her crazy.  The mother who never really seemed
to want to see him was suddenly frantic for his presence. Fox, of
course, couldn't be kept away in anycase.  He was already packing when
Dana arrived.
     
     "Where are you going?" Fox inquired as she took out her suitcase.
He knew he wouldn't be assigned to the case, but he planned to take
leave and haunt the agent in charge anyway.
     "To Martha's Vineyard, of course," she said looking at him.  She
had tried to embrace him when she had come home, but he had pushed her
away. Dana knew he had already been told the moment she had seen his
face.  She could already see that he was retreating into his shell,
away from her, and she didn't want to let it happen.
     "Well, you can't go," he informed her.
     "Fox, I've been assigned as the forensic pathologist on the case
at Skinner's request.  I have to go."  She didn't understand this.
She would have thought he would have wanted her there.
     "Well, get yourself unassigned."
     "I will not, Fox," she replied softly.  "We might be talking
about your sister here, sweetheart.  I don't want anyone else touching
those bodies."  Dana knew that one way or another, Fox was going to
wind up devastated by this.  If Samantha was in that grave, it would
mean that the much of his adult life had been a futile search for an
already dead girl. He would grow very angry, because they had both
seen the clone, and he would know that there was no way Sam could have
been the victim of a simple mass murderer.  He would once again,
however, never be able to prove it. They were too clever for that.  If
his sister wasn't in that grave, his search would continue, but there
would be no closure, and that would hurt in it's own way.
     "It's not your problem."
     "It's my goddam job," she snapped, but then calmed herself.
"Fox, you know the people we deal with are very clever.  If someone
made Sam's death look like mass murder, do you trust anyone else not
to suppress evidence?"  She didn't know how he could say it wasn't her
problem.  She was his wife.  That made it her problem and her
responsibility.  That was what wives were for.  Still, she let it go.
She knew him well.  He wouldn't want to hear that. To remind him would
only invite a painfully sarcastic reply.
     
     "Look, you just can't go," he reiterated again. He knew she was
right.  Of course, he didn't trust anyone else.  He probably never
would.
      "I need to do this alone.  I handled it before I met you, and
I'll handle it now.  Okay?  I don't want you there.  I forbid you to
go, Dana.  If you do I'll...."
     "You'll do what, Fox?" she asked angrily. " Beat me? Divorce me?
What?"  Had it only been a week ago that they had had that silly fight
and made love on the dining room table?  It had been wonderful since
then.  She didn't want to fight with him again.
     "Why can't you just do what I say?"
     "Because I have a job to do, Mulder.  Because we might be talking
about your sister.  I love you, Fox."  She looked at him, asking
herself once again how it had happened that she had come to adore this
troubled man so much.  Finally, she suppressed her anger at the fact
that he would shut her out just when he would need her the most. It
was a part of his character.  Dana knew, that if she wanted to make it
work with him, she would have to accept it and work around it.  She
sat on the bed and patted it, indicating that he should join her.
 He sat close to her, not
touching her and hung his head in his hands.
     "Okay, Spook," she said softly putting her arm around his
shoulder, "what's really going on here?  I like to think we love each
other enough that we can tell each other anything."
     "Dana, you know my mother hates you," he said sadly.
     "She doesn't have to see me, sweetheart," Dana replied.  The
situation with her mother-in- law bothered her, but she hoped it would
be resolved one day.  It hurt Fox more, she knew.  "I'm not going to
inflict myself on her, Spook.  She'll probably never know I'm there."
     "It's a small place, Dana."
     "I'll keep a low profile."
     "Dana, you can't go.  You just can't go.  Don't do this to me,
please."
     "Spit it out, Wolfenstein," she ordered. "What's really on your
mind?"
     "Shit.  Look, Dana, she's not like you.  She's not strong.
I...never told her we got married."  Fox stood up and started to pace.
He didn't see the shadow cross his wife's face.  Dana got up and with
quiet dignity began to pack her bag.
     "Look, Dana, Ed didn't think it was a good idea just then...okay.
I mean the girls were giving her a hard time and," he tried to explain
lamely.  He just shrugged.  He knew he wasn't going to stop her.  She
was going.
     "It's okay, Spook," she said very quietly.  "I use my maiden name
anyway."
     The way she said, "it's okay" he knew it wasn't. He had heard
enough of , "I'm okay, Mulder" over the years to know that when she
said it, it was a lie.  The trouble was, he didn't know what to do
about it.  His sister might be lying in a mass grave, the sister he
spent his whole adult life searching for. He didn't think she was, but
what if it were true?  His mother was going to fall apart.  He was
hurting his wife.  Jeez, how did life that was so good two hours ago
get to be such a mess?  He hardened himself.  He would do what he had
to do.  He slipped his wedding ring off and put it in Dana's jewelry
box.  When he turned around, she had carefully removed the look of
pain from her face.  He couldn't know how badly he had broken her
heart when he had slipped that ring off his finger.
     "Dana, are you going to wear that?" he asked looking at her left
hand.  She had already removed her good rings.  She never wore them
when she worked, but she always wore the slender gold band that had
been her parents when she wasn't wearing her wedding set, the one she
treasured so much, with it's small diamond and emerald chips.
     "To my grave, Spook," she told him softly. Those words sent a
chill through him.  He saw Dana in her grave.  She turned away and
took a few more things from her draw.  Placing them in the suitcase,
she snapped it shut.
     "Fox," she said quietly, "Let me just say, well, I'm just, I'm
just not sure you are doing your mother a favor trying to hide her
from reality.  Okay?"
     "Point noted," he replied.  He didn't want to talk about it any
more.
     Dana nodded.  It was time to focus away from her hurt and on to
her job.
     "If you don't want to ride with me, I'll arrange for a car from
the motor pool."
     "No...I...want to...ride with you.  Have you made motel
arrangements?"
     "Yes.  Won't you be staying with your mother?"
     "No.  I don't...I never do....I'll bring Krycek to Mrs. Anderson
to watch.  I..." He couldn't continue. In his heart, he knew she was
right about his mother, but there was his stepfather to consider and,
oh hell, he admittedly had taken the path of least resistance. He was
a coward when it concerned his parents, always had been.  His dad had
always turned his knees to rubber and his mom, his heart to jello.  He
turned and walked out of the room thinking once again how it had been
a mistake for a screwed up guy like him to marry, so unfair to Dana,
so hurtful to a woman who didn't deserve the pain.  He wasn't good
enough for her.  One day she would realize it, and he would lose her.
He knew it.  He would lose her ,and it would be his fault. He had the
overwhelming feeling that this might be the beginning of the end for
them.  It might even be close to the end this time. Didn't the Bible
say that a man should leave his parents and cleave unto his wife?
Right now, though, he couldn't deal with it.  All he could think about
was his sister, possibly lying in that grave on Martha's Vineyard, and
his fragile mother in terrible pain.

===========================================================================
     
From: macspooky@erols.com (Macspooky)
Date: 4 Oct 1995 08:54:19 -0400


Chapter 2 "Mother-In-Law" All disclaimers still apply.

     Normally, the two had no difficulty occupying their time while
driving somewhere to work a case.  They would rehash the details that
they knew, and toss around theories, however wild. There would be
silly banter back and forth about this or that, or discussion of what
had appeared in the morning newspaper.  They would talk about office
gossip.  Dana and Fox would bicker good naturedly about what radio
station to listen to.  Dana always wanted easy listening or classical,
while Fox opted for the golden oldies stations.  Somehow, they always
managed to compromise.  Sometimes they would laugh about how it had
been at the beginning of their partnership when they had been working
things out.  She had told him once that she had been on the verge of
dragging him out of the car and strangling him, or possibly shooting
him, on that first case they had worked together in Oregon.  He had
laughed hysterically when she had confessed that she had reached a
point where she thought, that if he spit one more sunflower seed out
the car window, she would lose it completely and snuff him.  She had
come very close when he had stopped to paint that big X on the
roadside.
      Sometimes they sang along with the radio.  Fox loved to do bad
Elvis imitations, although he had a fine voice, and Dana's was lovely
when she sang along with quiet love ballads.  THE POWER OF LOVE was
his favorite.  It always sent chills down his spine when he would hear
her voice repeat, "I am your lady, and you are my man. Whenever you
reach for me, I do all that I can."  He loved those words because they
were so true.  She always responded to his reach, his embrace, whether
it be to love him, or to dissipate a nightmare, or to simply display
affection.  Then, he would sing along with Rod Stewart, "Have I told
you lately that I love you." Fox knew he frequently forgot when he
became involved in his work, and the song reminded him. She would turn
to him and smile, and pinch his thigh. Often, there would be long
periods of comfortable silence, the kind that had come from first
knowing your partner well, complete trust, and then, after awhile,
total love.
     This time it was different, however.  There was no easy banter.
Neither cared to listen to the radio.  The silence was heavy, pain
filled, and uncomfortable.  They stopped once for coffee and a
sandwich, although neither of them felt particularly hungry. They
tried conversation and failed.  They traded places, and Fox drove.
Dana spent her time watching out the window.  As they passed briefly
through the Bronx on the Major Deegan Expressway, she found her eyes
starting to fill with tears.  The scenery was so depressing that it
suited her mood perfectly, abandoned buildings, abandoned souls,
broken windows, broken hearts.  Surrupticiously, she thought, Dana
wiped a tear from her eye.  Fox needed her now.  She didn't want him
to know how badly he had hurt her. She knew he hadn't meant to. She
knew he loved her more than anything. She told herself she needed to
be strong for the man she loved.  Fox saw her, of course, and knew he
was the cause of that tear.  It didn't make him feel very good about
himself, but he didn't know what to do.  He was caught between a rock
and a hard place, in a situation he considered not of his making.  His
confusion caused him to retreat further emotionally.

The Martha's Vineyard Steamship Authority ferry, the only one to run
year around, left them in the town of Tisbury.  Motel accomodations
were no problem since it was only March and still cold.  There were
few tourists.  Dana had only been on the Vineyard once, briefly, the
time she had followed Fox after his father died. She hadn't spent the
night.  She had thought then that she would like to come again, but
not like this, no, not like this at all.  She would have liked to have
come in the summer and sat on the beach with him.  She would have
liked to have shown him that it could be a happy place if you were
with someone you loved.  Dana would have given anything if she could
have eased some of his unhappy memories.  She didn't think she would
ever have the chance now.
      Fox didn't like the motel she had arranged for.  Instead, he
took her to an Inn, a pretty place, the kind he knew she loved and
that he never made reservations for.  She knew he was trying hard to
make it alright or at least better, but at this point, that was an
impossibility.  They were both too burdened. They checked in, and she
wanted to get another rental car, freeing him to visit his family
while she went right down to the police station to meet the agents in
charge of the case.  Dana wanted to get right to work, didn't want to
fall to the temptation of the lovely fireplace and the antique
bed. She didn't want to think about her pain.  She was already putting
herself in her professional mode.  Fox, however, wasn't ready to let
her go just yet. He suddenly wanted her, wanted her physically.  He
put his arms around her and held her tightly.  She could feel the
strain in his body.  His misery was palpable.
     "Let me make love to you, Dana," he whispered. "Please, let me
love you, baby."
     "I can't," she choked. "Not now."  He had taken her by surprise.
She hadn't expected this, and didn't think she could handle physical
love in light of his emotional retreat, at least not at that moment.
He seemed devastated.  She looked up at him and hugged him briefly and
held his hand for a minute.  "We'll get through this, Fox.  Somehow.
It will be okay.  We'll be okay.  I love you. I'll be there for you.
Can you just accept that for now?"
     "Sure," he said dully.  Sure. Okay, Scully, let's go see what we
have at the police station.  Then I'll rent a car and go see my mom."
He wasn't about to miss the initial case discussions with the agents
in charge.  He also felt her rejection keenly.  He knew she was in the
process of switching mental gears, but her denial of herself to him
told him a lot.  It told him that she didn't understand as well as she
was trying to pretend she did.  Dana was being Dana, putting an
impassive outside face on things, and not sharing openly what was
really going on inside.  It hurt him when she did that. It would have
been easier if she had called him a bastard to his face.

     Two agents had been assigned to the case.  One agent was an older
man, Deke Smithson, hard boiled native of Queens, New York, overdue to
retire, working out of the Boston office.  He wasn't a happy man.  In
the first place, he had a new partner, a young guy straight out of the
academy.  His new partner was black.  Smithson didn't like black much.
Having a black partner really pissed him off.  It was made worse by
the fact that he had to call his partner African/American.  That was
the politically correct thing to do. His unhappiness might have had
something to do with the fact that he thought J. Edgar Hoover had been
God's gift to the world or to the FBI.  It might have had to do with
his upbringing, or it might have been simply that he just plain old
didn't like blacks much because he didn't.  In anycase, he thought of
the days, when only white males had been permitted to be FBI agents,
as the good old days.  White males like him had had it made back then.
Hoover had known what to do with subversives like Martin Luther King.
He knew darn well enough that they had saddled him with a black
partner because he had been filmed at the Good Ol' Boys round up in
Tennessee that year.  It was an unofficial disciplinary measure.  They
were going to make him pay for the good time he had had in his t-shirt
with the face of Malcolm X set in a target.
      Then, Agent Smithson had found out they were sending a female
agent to act as pathologist, one Dr. Dana Scully.  He didn't like
female agents much, or female doctors.  Women, in his humble opinion,
needed to be kept barefoot and pregnant.  He had kept his wife that
way.  Well, not barefoot, but definitely pregnant.  They had had five
kids before she had filed for divorce, the bitch. This Scully was
going to be a real pain in the ass.  Women got really cranky and nuts
every month, and then they got their period and cried.  He had never
been able to work with them.  Worse, he had been told that Scully was
coming with Spooky Fox Mulder.  Smithson had heard Spooky speak once,
rich boy from a rich family, Oxford graduate.  Spooky had never had to
work his way through city college at night while holding two jobs.
Unh Unh...no way.  He had risen to Department Head in no time at all,
leaving guys like Smithson behind along the way.  They had called him
brilliant.  Smithson thought he was a jerk.  To add insult to injury,
Dr. Scully was married to Spooky Mulder.  They had been allowed to
remain partners, which was a total violation of Bureau policy.  Of
course, scuttlebutt had it that Assistant Director Walter Skinner, who
was another royal jerk in Smithson's estimation, was engaged to marry
Scully's mother.  In many minds, his included, that meant favoritism,
and he didn't like it.  He wasn't even consoled by the fact that
Spooky wasn't on the case, just an observer, because it was thought
that one of the bodies might be his sister.  He wasn't consoled, and
he felt no compassion.

     Dwayne Bothrington was an entirely different matter.  He was
young and ambitious.  Like Smithson, he had come up the hard way, but
he had done it by winning a full scholarship to Harvard.  He was
hardworking, diplomatic and brilliant.  He detested Smithson, but knew
that if he was going to advance, he had to hang in there and do his
time in purgatory.  He had to prove he could take it. Smithson was
someone's idea of a bad joke, but if he could stick it out and not
kill the guy, who was a decent investigator in spite of it all, he
could learn a lot. Dwayne too had heard of Spooky Mulder, but Dwayne
had roots in the Caribbean and was not as quick to discount Mulder's
work.  He had, in fact, studied Spooky Mulder's files, those that were
available, as well as his monographs, in some detail and admired the
man's work. He made certain he looked for the articles that Mulder
published under a pen name in "Omni."  He had been particularly
fascinated by the case in Folkstone, and by what he sensed had not
been said in the reports.  Dwayne had also heard of the partnership
between Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, the partnership and the eventual
marriage.  They had an incredible solve rate together.  Some
bureaucrat was being smart by letting them continue to work together.
Maybe there was hope for the Bureau in the future, a future in which
the old boys network finally aged itself out of existence.  Dwayne was
young and idealistic enough to hope that he would be around to see
that day.  He was looking forward to meeting Mulder and Scully.  He
had a feeling that he would be able to work with them, that they
wouldn't be part of the "good ole'boys network."  They might even
think of him as an equal human being, which would be a pleasant change
after weeks of dealing with Smithson, who, he sensed, thought all
black people were little above monkeys.  Smithson may have been too
clever to say it out loud, but Dwayne had seen the tape of the
"roundup" in Tennessee, and that had told him more than he really
wanted to know.

     Police Chief Johnson was immediately impressed by Dana Scully.
Not only was she beautiful, but she seemed intelligent and very
professional.  He knew, of course, or at least had known, Fox Mulder
as a child.  He had been one of the first officer's on the scene the
night that Samantha Mulder had disappeared.  He had dealt with the
hysterical mother and an angry and upset father.  He had been glad
when the matter had been turned over to the FBI, and they had been
able to use the department's energies to organize a search of the
island for the missing child.
     He had also been the first officer on the scene the horrible day
that Bill Mulder had turned on his 13 year old son in a drunken rage.
The island was small enough where everyone tended to know, or at least
know of, everyone else.  Bill Mulder had always had the reputation for
being a strict father, but something had happened to him after the
loss of his daughter.  Johnson didn't think he would ever forget
taking Bill away to jail, the child crying as the paramedics put him
in the ambulance, not because he had been beaten, but because he was
afraid his dad would go to prison.  It hadn't happened of course.
Mulder, though he had, in Johnson's opinion, deserved a long sentence,
had had too much influence and money. He had known too many powerful
people in the government.  He had gotten off with a slap on the wrist
and some counselling.  It had frightened him badly enough to stop the
heavy drinking, but it certainly hadn't done anything for the boy.

     "I know this can't be easy for you, Agent Mulder," said Johnson
with a trace of compassion in his voice.  "I'm sorry that it is taking
so long to excavate the grave.  We just keep finding more bodies.  The
press is at our throat, and the weather is working against us.  It's
been raining very heavily every day."
     "Understood," replied Fox.  "I'd like to meet the agent in
charge."
     "No you wouldn't," sighed Johnson, "but you'll have to.  I don't
envy you working with him, Dr. Scully.  I don't know how his partner
stands him."
     If they thought Johnson was being unprofessional, they didn't say
so.  He looked as though he were under a terrible strain.  One look at
the beefy FBI Agent introduced to them as Deke Smithson told both of
them all they needed to know.  Dana knew immediately that she was in
for a difficult run this time, professionally as well as personally.
She had dealt with this type before.  It wouldn't be long before he
would be making comments about her body.  It was fortunate that Dwayne
Bothrington seemed to be a different matter entirely.  Dana hoped she
would be able to engage him as an ally early on, prayed that he would
be someone Fox could like, because otherwise, she didn't know how she
was going to handle Smithson and Mulder at one time in her current
saddened mental state.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     Nothing much could be done that evening.  They were still working
on digging up the bodies and gathering evidence, and it was too dark
for Mulder and Scully to really see anything at the isolated grave
sight.  She opted to take copies of the files back to the room at the
inn and study them.  He drove her and dropped her off.
     "We'll rent another car in the morning, okay?" Fox asked her.
Time had gotten away from them, and it was growing late.
     "Fine.  I don't think I'll be going anywhere.  You go and see
your mother.  I'll study the files.  Tomorrow, you can read them and
start putting together your own ideas."
     "Right, tomorrow," he sighed.  He looked at her.  She looked
tired.  He opened his mouth.  He wanted to say, "I love you, Dana."
The words wouldn't come, not here, not now.  Instead, he ran his
fingers through her hair briefly.
     "Go and see you mother, Fox," she said softly managing a weak
smile.  He knew it was forced.  He turned away and left her.

     Fox pulled up to the huge house where his mother now lived. He
had had to run a gauntlet of reporters at the gate in the dying
light. He parked in front and rang the bell.  Pearl answered the door,
Pearl who had been their cleaning lady when he was a little boy, and
who was now head housekeeper in his stepfather's house.
     "Mr. Fox," she smiled. "Oh, I'm so glad you've come."  She gave
him a hug.  She remembered him as a sweet little boy who had always
loved her.  He was so unlike that mean daddy of his, God rest the
man's soul.  He had always had a hug for her when old Bill Mulder
wasn't looking.  In Pearl's mind, there was nothing like a little boy
hug to make a woman's day.  Sweetest creatures in the world they were!
She loved his little sisters, of course, but although they were a lot
like him in some ways, it wasn't quite the same.
     "It's good to see you, Ms. Pearl," he said kissing her cheek.
Then suddenly his sisters were there.  They were an intelligent,
exuberant pair and were quickly all over him.  He wondered how his
quiet mother had gotten such children.
     "Good to see you, girls."  He managed a smile for them He noticed
that they were both wearing the initial pendants that Dana had helped
him choose for their birthday. .He deliberately confused their names
to tease them until they moaned in protest that the FBI surely should
have been intelligent enough to read their necklaces.  It amazed him
that Jennie and Amy actually seemed to like him, in spite of the fact
that he seldom saw them.  They led him down the hall to the sitting
room, where their dad and mom were having a predinner glass of wine.
Ed stood up and shook his hand.  His mom got to her feet.  She looked
as though she had been crying.
     "Oh, Fox, I'm so glad you've come.  I can't believe they are
saying that Samantha might be in that grave.  We already know she's
dead.  The press...oh...how can they do this to us?"
     "It's okay, mom," he said putting his arms around her.  What the
hell was he going to do, he wondered.  This woman was so fragile.  How
the hell was he going to make Dana understand?  He knew she was
trying.  Dana loved him.  Dana loved him more than anything.  He
looked at his stepfather over his mother's head.  Ed shook his head
negatively.  Now was not the time.
     "I tried to tell Chief Johnson that Samantha was already dead,
that that awful woman had made you trade her away...."
     "Mom, she isn't an awful woman, and that wasn't Samantha.  We'll
just have to wait and see, okay, mom.  Maybe..well...maybe it is..."
He didn't really believe it, but what if......
     "No, I don't believe it.  I just won't believe it."  Ruth was
shaking.
     "If mom believes that black is white, you are never going to
change her mind," said Amy impatiently.
     "Right on," muttered Jennifer with a shrug.
     "Don't be disrespectful, girls," admonished Ruth.  "I know
Samantha is dead. I know my baby girl is dead.  I just know it."
     "Right, if you say so."  They both appeared non plussed.
     "That's enough, girls," Ed said quietly.  That silenced them for
a moment, but they didn't look happy.  Fox had a feeling there was a
lot of tension between mother and daughters right now.  The girls were
simply too young to understand that Ruth had her own reality
sometimes, and of course, the abduction of Samantha meant little to
them except in the sense of being a romantic story for adolescent
girls to tell their friends on a dark night at a sleepover.  Even he,
psychologist that he was, didn't realize just how romantic it was to
them.  He couldn't know that they had made their darkly handsome,
haunted brother into a character resembling something from a Victorian
novel for all their friends.  If he had known, he might have been
alarmed, afraid of what they might get into.

     Pearl told them that it was time for dinner, and they retired to
the table discussing inconsequential things.  When the meal was over,
Fox told them he had to return to the hotel, that he planned to work
with the police in the morning, and he wanted to study the case files.
Ed walked him to the car.
     "Ed, Dana is here," Fox told him quietly.  "She is the FBI
pathologist on the case.  Mom has to be told and soon.  What if she
finds out?"
     "I know I'm putting you in a bad position," said Ed softly, "but
Ruth, your mother, I don't know, lately she seems more fragile than
ever. Ever since Samantha...that woman...came here.  I'll know when
it's the right time.  Will she tell, this wife of yours?"
     "No, Ed, but she's very hurt.  It isn't fair to her.  I know you
love my mother, but I love my wife too.  Now I have to go."  Fox got
in the Honda and drove out through the gate relieved that the
reporters seemed to have disappeared for the night.

     Dana showered and slipped into a nightgown.  She realized that
she hadn't eaten anything since the sandwich she had picked at lunch.
She wasn't really that hungry anyway.  She thought briefly about
checking to see whether or not there was room service.  She would have
liked some tea.  In the end she dismissed the thought however, and
went back to reading the skimpy file yet again.  She heard the door
open, and Fox came in.  She managed a brave smile for him.  He looked
like he needed it.  Dana truly felt for her husband.  He didn't look
as though he had enjoyed his visit at all.
     "Hi, beautiful," he said raking in the sight of her in her pretty
yellow cotton nightgown and her reading glasses.  He pulled a bag from
behind his back.  "Low fat chicken salad and a cup of nice hot tea."
     "Thanks, Spook," she said.  "I was getting hungry, and there is
not much in these files."
     She ate quietly and drank the tea gratefully, asking about his
little sisters.
     "They are a real pair," he smiled, "full of energy.  They don't
seem as though they should be my mother's children somehow.  Oh, Dana,
I think you'd love them!"  He realized immediately that it had been a
stupid thing to say. Of course she would love them She would love his
mother too, if only someone would give her the chance.  She was Dana,
after all.  He lapsed into silence.
     His wife finished her meal at the small table and went to brush
her teeth.  He read over the file briefly, sitting in the rocker near
the unlit fireplace, but the sight of Dana in bed alone was more than
he could bear.  He slipped out of his clothes and lay down beside her
in the beautiful old fashioned four poster bed, dimming the lamp but
not turning it off entirely.  He had promised himself that he wouldn't
touch her, that he would give her space.  He didn't really blame her
for rejecting him earlier.  He probably would have done the same thing
in her shoes.  It hurt though.
     Dana lay there beside him wondering when he was going to slip his
arms around her and begin to caress her.  He didn't though.  That
hurt.  Still, she supposed it was just as well that he had probably
slipped into his professional mode and didn't seem to want to make
love.  As much as she wanted him, she wasn't certain she could have
had sex with him at that moment anyway.  However brave the front she
put up, there was no lying to herself.  Her heart was breaking.  When
this was over, she was going to have to seek some sort of help,
because she was afraid it was all going to fall apart.  The hurt could
so easily become resentment that would fester until it spilled over
and ended something beautiful.
     
===========================================================================     
From: macspooky@erols.com (Macspooky
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Gener/Inlaw(3)/Macspooky/Juliettt
Date: 4 Oct 1995 09:10:58 -0400


Chapter 3 "Mother-In-Law"   All disclaimers still apply.

     The once pristine woods were a mess.  Record rains had turned the
graves into a mass of mud.  More than one body had been buried in each
hole.  Dana knew immediately that she and the forensics team were
going to have their work cut out for them, sorting and matching bones
and personal effects. She wasn't looking forward to it. It reminded
her a little too much of the Chako chicken case in which she had
nearly lost her head, literally.  She took a moment to glance at her
husband.  He was standing quietly, too quietly, taking it all in.  He
had already had a run in with Smithson that morning.  The older agent
had refused to answer his questions or to authorize space for Fox to
use to work.
     "I don't want you near this case, Mulder," the agent had told
him.  "It's mine, and besides, you are too close to it."  His dislike
and contempt had been obvious, although there had been nothing
inherently wrong with his reasoning.
     "Look, I'm not interested in taking credit from anyone...."
     "I don't want to hear it, Mulder."  The man had walked away.
Dana had soothed him quietly, telling him that she would keep him
posted on everything. Fox pointed out that Deke might not tell her
everything. Then, she had replied that they had more than enough money
to purchase an extra laptop for personal use should he want to access
Bureau records, or other records in his spare time.  She also
suggested that when his sisters got home from school, he might want to
spend some time visiting with them.  She knew he felt like a fifth
wheel here.  He wanted to be doing something. It was difficult for him
to leave everything to her, not because he lacked faith in her
abilities, but because they were partners.  She would have to find
ways to keep him out of trouble.  Well, she could try, if she had the
time, but in the past she had not had much luck doing that. Trouble
seemed to follow him.

          Fox stood quietly taking in the gruesome sight as the last,
or what they hoped was the last, of the bodies was carefully removed.
He carefully absorbed the atmosphere while he watched the team work.
As a boy, he had played in these woods.  They had offered an escape
from his unhappy home.  Sometimes he had brought Samantha, but she
hadn't liked them much.  They had frightened her. He remembered her
telling him that the boogie man snatched children here.  He lifted his
head and looked around. She had been scared of monsters.  It was a
perfect burial sight, on private property, invisible.  For a maniac
working at night, lights could not be seen from anywhere nearby.  The
soil was soft, and the trees large but spread out enough to allow room
for the graves.  Underbrush would grow quickly and hide the evidence.
Chilmark's zoning requirement of only one house per three acres had
stood this murderer in good stead, just as it had Sam's abductors.
There would be no one close enough to hear the cry of a child, even if
she had been able to scream. His instincts, however, told him the
children were already dead when they arrived.  These would not be
children from Martha's Vineyard.  They had been brought later and
buried like trophies in the woods.  He noticed one thing immediately.
All the skulls were missing their teeth.  Identification was going to
be difficult and time consuming, requiring extensive DNA testing.
Dana was going to have her work cut out for her.

     Dwayne Bothrington watched Mulder.  He seemed to almost sniff the
air.  Mulder's examination of the burial sight had seemed cursory, but
the younger man had a feeling that he hadn't missed a thing.  He had
observed the argument between Mulder and his partner earlier in the
day.  It was brought home to him once again what a real jerk Smithson
was.  Smithson was a hard nosed investigator, going after clues like a
bloodhound.  He never missed a piece of hard evidence.  He had a high
arrest rate through old fashioned hard work, a trait worthy of respect
in most men, but he frequently failed to take insight into account.
He had laughed at Bothrington's theories on recent past cases, even
when he had proved to be correct, rubbing it into the younger agent
that insight didn't win court cases.  Arguments that it helped you
know where to look for evidence fell on deaf or amused ears.  He was
the antithesis of a guy like Mulder.
     "Don't you have something to do, Both?" inquired Deke
sarcastically.  "Or do you enjoy standing there watching pretty boys
like Mulder?"
     "Watch you mouth, Smith," snapped Both "or you might find my fist
in it."  He walked off, annoyed with himself that he had allowed
Smithson to get a rise out of him.  He was not into watching pretty
boys, however, and didn't want rumors like that getting
started. Smithson could be a real pig.

     Mulder followed Police Chief Johnson out of the woods.  He
pointed at a large old house that could be seen in the distance.
     "Who lives there?" asked Fox.
     "Old Senator Jensen," repled Johnson.  " He was actually Senator
from Vermont, but his family has owned this place for generations.
After he lost the election eight years ago, he retired up here
permanently.  He must be in his early 70's.  He's a really nice guy.
Everyone likes him."
     "Yes, I remember," said Fox thoughtfully.  "Chief Johnson, could
you provide me, I mean Agent Scully, with a map and a list of who owns
all the houses adjoining this property?  I'd really appreciate it."
     "You don't suspect a local resident do you?  All of these people
have lived here for years."  Johnson looked at the young man.  He
supposed anything was possible, but he just couldn't picture any of
the residents as a mass murderer.  He had known them all since he was
a kid. It had to be an outsider.  It simply had to be someone who was
ferrying the children here, perhaps someone who had come as a tourist
and become familiar with the area.  The Vineyard didn't need another
scandal like the Chappaquidick thing in the summer of '69.  It had
brought hoards and hoards of people.  To him, Martha's Vineyard had
never been the same since.
     "One thing I've learned, Chief Johnson, is trust no one, well
almost no one.  Don't worry.  I'll be discreet.  I don't like that
Smithson guy. I'm not sure he's competent. This conversation is
between you and I."
     "He's competent, Mulder.  He's just obnoxious.  I feel sorry for
Mr.  Bothrington and Agent Scully having to work with him, but he is
an A-l investigator in his own way."

     Fox did remember the Senator alright. The memory came suddenly.
He remembered Senator Jensen had been on Martha's Vineyard when
Samantha had disappeared.  He remembered Senator Jensen coming to the
house to offer condolences to his parents.  Sometimes an eidetic
memory was a blessing.  He recalled that his mother had been
impressed, even through her fog of grief, that a U.S. Senator would
come to call.  As the man had shook his twelve year old hand, a hand
his dad had forced him to take, the hairs on the back of his neck had
bristled.  His father had seemed to know the Senator quite well, in
retrospect.
      Fox thanked Johnson for his cooperation.  Once, he wouldn't have
bothered, but it was another lesson he had learned from Scully.  He
felt he wanted Johnson on his side, and that would require diplomacy.
Mulder went to his rental car.  He was going to go to the nearest
computer store to buy himself a laptop.  He would also purchase a pair
of high resolution binoculars and perhaps a night vision scope.
Smithson's lack of cooperation wasn't going to stop him.  Then, when
he got the information he had requested from Johnson, he was going to
do some background checks, and they were going to encompass more than
FBI files.  He was glad he had money and friends at the Lone Gunman,
who would be glad for a scoop on a story like this, which he feared
might include a coverup somewhere along the line.

     Dana watched him go.  She knew by the set of his shoulders that
he had decided on a course of action.  She hoped it was nothing too
dangerous.  Sometimes he had these wild flights of fancy or insight,
depending upon how you looked at it, and since he wasn't going to get
any help from official channels, he was going to go off on his own.
There was nothing she could do to stop him.  It was going to be like
Alaska all over again with him shutting her out. He was going to ditch
her again, even though she was right here, and he probably wouldn't
stray far from the Vineyard.  Dana could feel it, and she felt sad for
the brief moment that she had before she had to return to her search
of the crime scene.

===========================================================================

From: macspooky@erols.com (Macspooky)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Gener/Inlaw(4)/Macspooky/Juliettt
Date: 4 Oct 1995 09:11:02 -0400


Chapter 4  "Mother-In-Law"  All disclaimers still apply.

     Jennie and Amy Tillot were bored.  Even the expensive private
school they attended didn't offer that much of an intellectual
challenge.  They both had photographic memories, a fact that the two
of them kept carefully hidden from their parents.  After all, if Mom
and Dad knew, Mom and Dad might be even more careful than they already
were about letting their girls find out about things.  Jennie and Amy
liked to find out about things a lot. They were overwhelmed by
curiosity about everything that was none of their business. While
their parents were relieved that they were seemingly not yet
interested boys, they didn't realize that Jennie and Amy had other
fish to fry.  Neither of them had quite dared mention the subject to
their parents, but they both had career plans that did not include
becoming a school teacher or some other profession that protective
parents such as Ruth and Ed might find acceptable.  They thought their
older brother was about the most mysterious, not to mention neatest,
guy on earth, and they planned to use what they considered must be his
considerable influence to get them into the FBI when they graduated
from college.

      In her fear, the fear that had always kept Fox away from his
sisters, Ruth had unknowingly created a hero for her daughters. They
hadn't told him yet, of course, because they never got a chance, but
he was here now, on Martha's Vineyard.  This time, the opportunity was
not going to be passed up. They were going to discuss, if not hero
worship, at least career plans.  Amy had pointed out to Jennie that
their brother had been very careful not to tell their mother where he
was staying.  This was a challenge of sorts.  They would hone their
"investigative" skills finding out.  Also, they were determined to
find out about THAT WOMAN.  Eavesdropping had told them she was a
doctor, as well as an FBI agent, and that she was here.  Amy and
Jennie had quickly come to the conclusion that any woman their mother
hated that much was probably worth knowing, and it would be another
test of their skills to find a way to meet her without arousing
suspicion.  It might be interesting to meet someone considered such an
"evil influence" or at least, to spy on her to find out just what
forms the evil took.
     Amy and Jennie looked at each other.  First things first, they
decided.  It was time to go and use that nice Pentium daddy had bought
them to type their term papers on.  They could hack into the
registration of nearby hotels and motels and find out where Fox Mulder
was staying.
     "Hey, Jen, I think I found it," Amy called to her sister, who
came loping out of the bathroom, hairbrush in hand, muttering about
mega grease.  "Looks like he is staying at the old Captain's Inn."
     "Wow, big bucks.  Bet the FBI isn't paying for that," replied the
younger by 10 minutes sister.
     "Right, who cares?" replied Amy who had always had money and
didn't think about it much.  "Anyway, from the looks of this, the room
has been booked for two, and the other person is listed as Dr. Dana
Scully."
     "The evil woman," they burst out simultaneously lapsing into a
fit of teenage giggles.
     
      "Jeez, it looks like brother Fox is f-----g the devil,"
snickered Jennie.
     "Watch you mouth, Jens, before you slip and dad washes it out
with soap....again.  Besides, that's classless.  Brother Fox is making
love to pure evil.  That's literary."  There was more laughter and a
great deal of satisfaction.  Now they knew where to go to start
spying.  There was a knock on the door.  When Ruth entered they were
quietly playing an innocuous video game their dad had bought them, one
which was far more suited to the average 10 year old, at least in
their minds, than to young ladies of their maturity and intellect.
They could barely contain their laughter as Ruth asked them if they
were sure they had done all their homework.
     "Give us a break, mom," snapped Jennie.  "We are 16..  We know
when we've done our homework."
     "I'm your mother, and I have to ask."  Ruth finally sauntered out
a little bit hurt that they snapped at her.  She really tried to be a
good mother, did everything she was supposed to, yet they didn't seem
to like her anyway, and hadn't since they had become teenagers.  It
didn't seem quite fair.  She never yelled or screamed at them as her
mother had raged at her.
     The girls heaved a sigh of relief when she left.  They loved
their mom, but she was so out of it sometimes, best suited for what
was in their opinion, that stupid charity work she did to occupy her
otherwise useless life.  However loving, Mom was a space cadet pure
and simple.  The fact that she was an excellent fund raiser never
struck them as important.
     Anyway, they were beginning to form a plan of action.  They would
never escape the house right now, but they could make up some extra
curricular activity for the next day and begin snooping right after
school was over.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------

     It was 2:30 PM of the next day before Dana finally looked at her
watch and realized that she had better take a lunch break. An empty
stomach was making her head hurt.  She had left Fox back at the Inn
that morning plugging in his new laptop.  He hadn't said a word to her
about what he planned to do.  She knew he was up to something, but
when she had tried to ask him about it, he had snapped at her, and she
didn't feel like arguing, so she let it drop.  Dana hadn't slept well
the night before.  She had seen the binocs and the night scope, and
had heard him sneaking out.  She was disturbed, because he had not
once asked her about the bodies when he had returned from having
dinner with his mother for the second night in a row.  Dana hadn't
been able to doze off again until he snuck back in several hours
later.  She was afraid for her husband. She knew he went off half
cocked and placed himself in danger without any consideration for
himself or anyone else.

     Smithson entered the room where Dana and an assistant had been
painstakingly sorting the bones of children's bodies.
     "Hi, beautiful," he said sidling up to her a little closer than
she liked. "How are you coming?"
     She looked at him with distaste.  The double entendre had not
passed over her head.  >From Fox, it would have provoked a smile.  She
would have told him that she was coming just fine, and he damn well
knew it, and there would have been easy laughter, but from this creep,
the remark made her flesh crawl.
     "Does anyone do that when you're around?" she inquired giving him
her absolute sweetest smile. "I'm going to get a sandwich Mitch?  Want
anything?"
     "No, thanks, Dr. Scully," replied the young man who was assisting
her. He was choking back laughter at her response, thinking that here
was a woman who knew how to handle herself.  He was fresh out of
medical school, but knowledgeable. Dana wasn't afraid to leave him on
his own.  He would, Dana thought, do well in his chosen field.
     "I told you, call me Dana.  I'll be back.  If you have nothing
new to report, please excuse me."  Dana looked at Smithson with
something close to loathing.  Men like him were animals.  She left the
building and went to a nearby restaurant, where she ordered a grilled
cheese sandwich and a root beer.  She noticed two teenaged girls enter
shortly after her and thought idly that they had pretty eyes.  That
was about all the attention she paid, however.  She popped two
aspirins for the headache that had started and smiled at them vaguely
on her way out when she had finished eating.

     "She sure is pretty," said Amy to Jennie as they too left the
small restaurant. "She doesn't look like a devil or anything to me."
     "She looks tired.  Too much nocturnal activity with brother
maybe."  The girls giggled a little over that for a few minutes,
though they were young for their age and had only the vaguest idea of
exactly what that entailed.  Daddy wouldn't let them have cable TV in
their room. They had found some pictures on the Internet, of course,
but they were stills and not all that clear, and of course they had to
be deleted immediately before they had much opportunity to study them.
     "Hey, let's go out to the woods and snoop around.  Maybe we will
find something the cops missed," suggested Jennie.
     "Are you crazy, Jen?  How would they miss things?
     "You never know.  Let's just go look, okay."
     "Okay, but I think your nuts, Jen, and if we get caught, you are
going to explain it to daddy."
     "We won't get caught, Amy.  What's the fun of having a car if you
can't use it to go interesting places."
     "I didn't know there were any on this boring island," muttered
Amy.

     Sneaking around the woods close to dark was rather thrilling. No
one was guarding the sight, the search being complete, but they had to
duck under yellow crime scene tape.  The ground was all torn up where
the bodies had been discovered.  It had rained again in the earlier
part of the afternoon, and as they moved away from the crime scene,
Amy saw something glinting in the dying light.  It proved to be a
wrist bone, and around that bone hung a tiny bracelet that looked as
though it once might have been silver.
     "Oh, God, Jen, it's another body."  Amy grabbed her sister's arm.
She suddenly had the strangest feeling that they were being watched.
     "What do we do now?" Even the daredevil of the pair, Jennie was
getting nervous.  The place was giving her the creeps.
     "Oh, no...someone is coming.  Let's go."  The two girls ran away
as quickly as they could travel, not stopping until they got to their
car.  They never did see the man who came walking through the woods,
but he saw them, saw them and followed them until he spotted their
blue car.  The Tillot girls, he realized.  He had watched them grow
up.  They were quite beautiful.  They were very different from their
half sister Samantha, of course.  Their half sister had been a
gorgeous child, the most beautiful he had known.  Yes, he remembered
little Samantha Mulder very well.  She had been afraid of these woods.
These two were different, but lovely in their own way, yes very lovely
indeed, so small, so young for their age.  The man watched until they
were gone, vowing to keep his eyes on the Tillot twins, then walked
on, continuing his daily exercise.

     Fox had been checking records via his laptop for most of the day
stopping only a short time for lunch.  He leaned back.  His day hadn't
been totally unproductive.  He decided, however, that it was time to
take a break. Before he switched gears, however, he stopped and
thought for a moment about his little sisters.  God, they were cute.
He felt so sorry that he had missed their growing up years, sorry and
depressed.  They had told him that they wanted to be FBI agents.  He
had been flattered.  He hadn't taken them seriously, of course, but he
had been flattered.  He realized that he was being somewhat
chauvinistic, but they were so little and so young looking for their
sixteen years, that Fox couldn't picture them as anything other than a
school teacher in a prestigious private school where the kids behaved.
He had to remind himself that they weren't grown up yet, and that for
all of Scully's 5'2" frame, she had intimidated guys who were a foot
and a half taller.  His thoughts turned briefly to his wife.  He
didn't want to deal with her right now, deal with the way she had
rejected him.  He knew he had hurt her, but he had thought she would
understand that it was only temporary, that he would handle it.  He
felt confused and disoriented by the situation.
       Mulder realized that he had his America On Line download disks
in his briefcase and decided to load them and check his e-mail.  He
maintained an account which he used periodically to surf the net as a
form of relaxation.  He also used it to correspond, anonymously of
course, with a group of UFO fanatics.  Most of them were stark raving
lunatics in Fox's opinion, but it was fun, and sometimes he did glean
some useful information.  He activated his account and went to his
mail.  A moment later, with hands that were shaking, he was checking a
member profile.  There was none available.  He got off line and called
the police.


     Dana handed him the evidence bag as he stood at the periphery of
the burial sight.  It was early morning, the police having decided to
postpone the search until daylight.
     "This one had a personal effect attached to the wrist, no teeth,
but this little bracelet..."  Dana was stunned as her husband stuffed
the bag back into her hand and ran away.  She followed him quickly.
This action was totally unlike Fox, who hadn't lost his composure at a
crime scene in the entire time that she had known him, even that of
Donnie Pfaster's devastation.  She found him in the bushes throwing
up.
     "Mulder. Fox." She put her hands on his shoulder. "What?  What's
wrong?"
     "Oh, God, Scully, Dana...the bracelet..."
     "What, what about the bracelet, sweetheart?" she asked softly.
He was pale and shaking.  She feared his knees might start to
buckle. She wanted to reach out and pull him into her arms, but knew
it wasn't the right time or place.
     "Yeah, sweetheart, what about the bracelet?"  Smithson stepped
out of the trees and looked at the younger agent with contempt.
Mulder had started expounding on theories to him the day before,
theories that were stupid and that he didn't want to hear, because if
they were wrong and he acted, his pension could be put in jeopardy.
It crossed his mind that Mulder might be trying to set him up for a
fall.
     "You got a problem, Smithson?" Fox demanded, his fist clenching.
     "I got lots of problems, sonny," he replied glancing in Dana's
direction. "Can't you take it, pretty boy?"
     "I think that's enough, Deke," said Dwayne stepping out beside
his partner.
     "I don't.  I want to know, what about the bracelet.  Spooky loses
his breakfast, I figure he's got something to tell."
     Fox drew back his arm and threw a punch at Deke, who had gone out
of his way to be rude since day one.  Dana threw herself in between
them and caught a good part of the thrust of the blow on the cheek,
just as Dwayne grabbed Deke before he could swing back.
     "Oh, God, Scully," cried Fox.  The corner of her mouth was
bleeding.  "What the hell did you do that for?  Why'd you get in the
middle?  Why didn't you let me hit the bastard?"
     "We'll talk about it later," she said quietly.  "Get out of here,
Smithson.  You'll get a report from me when I've examined the
remains."
     "I'll be talking to you again, Spooky," threatened Smithson.  The
older man turned and left.  Fox gave Dana his handkerchief.
     "You'd better get an ice pack on the cheek," said Bothrington
quietly.  "Come on.  I think I have a cold pack in my car."
     "You shouldn't have put yourself between us."  Fox was angry at
himself, but snapped at her because she was the nearest and closest
target, and the dearest thing in the world to him.
     "You don't need to get called up for another disciplinary
hearing, Mulder," Dana informed him.  "The guy is a jerk, but you
shouldn't have tried to hit him."
     Dana put the pack against her cheek.  "Thanks, Both," she told
the black agent.  She looked at him gratefully.  She didn't need a
swollen face just now.  Dwayne Bothrington knew that the best way to
find out what was bothering Mulder was to leave husband and wife
alone.  Agent Scully would tell him what he needed to know later.  She
wouldn't talk to Smithson, but she did speak to him, and she was one
very intelligent woman.
     "I'm fine," she sighed answering the question Mulder hadn't
bothered to ask her.  "Now, what about the bracelet?"
     "I...well, I gave....I mowed lawns and saved my money, and I
bought Samantha this little silver bracelet for her eighth birthday.
It looks the same....like Sam's bracelet.  Oh, God, Dana, what if it's
her?  What if all these years?  What if I'm crazy?"  He knew he should
be worrying about his wife, who's jaw he could have so easily broken,
however accidently, but he couldn't concentrate on it.  He just kept
seeing Sam, the look on her face when she had received the birthday
gift.  How she had loved it!  Then he saw her lying in that grave
rotting.  Samantha, his baby sister, worms crawling through her......
     "Fox, we both saw the clone and the bounty hunter," said Dana
softly knowing they were out of earshot.  "Even if it is her, it
doesn't change anything.  We know what we saw.  Someone, something,
knows more about Samantha than they should.  Even if that is her
skeleton, what happened before she died?"  Dana hoped the bruise
wouldn't be too bad.  When her husband came to his senses, he was
going to feel very badly indeed. She knew he feared becoming
physically violent with her, and this incident would disturb him even
though it had been an accident.
     "I don't want her to be dead.  I thought I'd find
her...thought...."  Fox felt his voice breaking.  "There are no teeth.
It's going to take forever to find out...I don't know....Oh,
shit..What the hell am I going to tell mom?." He turned and walked
away from her, leaving her standing there with the ice pack against
her jaw.  She watched him get into his car and drive away.  Just when
he should be leaning on her, when they should be together, he was
pulling away from her completely, withdrawing and thinking of his
mother.  Neither one of them saw the two girls, girls who had quietly
snuck out of their house, nearby, hiding behind one of the large trees
with ears and eyes wide open.  No one saw the man watching from a
distance, his binoculars playing on the unnoticed young women who left
quickly not wishing to call attention to themselves by being late for
school.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
     
     Dana didn't see Fox for the rest of the day.  The first thing she
did was to send samples from the latest skeleton to the lab for
priority DNA testing.  They weren't going to like it, and she would
have to find a way to justify it, but she knew it was important.  Fox
was, she felt, very close to the breaking point. If they said she was
using her influence for personal reasons to get that body identified
more quickly, so be it.  She would resign, if necessary, and spare
Skinner or anyone else unnecessary grief.  Mulder was the most
important thing in the world to her, no matter what.  She was deeply
concerned about him.  Everything was sorted and packed and now the
work of identification could begin.  There would be closure for some
parents, she knew, but it was also her opinion, that unless the teeth
were found, some of the remains would remain unidentified
forever. Even then, all the parents might not be found.  She didn't
like to think about all the mothers and fathers who had lost kids and
never found out what had happened.  She could barely imagine anything
worse.  She had been devastated by her miscarriage, and she hadn't
even known that baby.  It had to be a million times worse when you had
already grown to love the little person.  Yes, she knew it was. Dana
sighed deeply, hoping against hope that there was another baby growing
inside of her.  It would change her life forever, but it would be part
of them both, something that would keep him in her life even if things
continued to fall apart as they had been for the past few days.  After
she had sent away the remains, she spent some time digging in past
records, the records of everyone who lived in the surrounding area.
Finally, it was time to quit.  Maybe, she thought, she could get Fox
to have a quiet dinner with her, a long soak in the Inn's fabulous
bathtub.  Maybe she could get him to open up about his suspicions and
ideas.

     Fox ignored Smithson and continued his inquiries on his own.  He
knew he was ruffling feathers, and it wouldn't be long before word got
back to Smithson, or Skinner, but he didn't really care.  He had a
hunch.  At 2:30 he was standing outside his sisters school.  They knew
from the look on his face that they had been found out.
     "You didn't think I'd use my FBI credentials to track you down
did you, girls?" he demanded angrily.
     "It was the only way we could think of to tell someone about the
body without getting into trouble with daddy," said Jen.  "Please,
Fox, don't tell on us.  He'd ground us forever.  He still thinks we
are babies."
     "Look, Amy, Jennie, we are dealing with a potentially dangerous
individual here."
     "Those bodies are old, Fox," protested Amy.  "We just wanted to
see what a crime scene looks like."
     "Well, why didn't you ask me to show you?"
     "Because we knew you would say no," Jen replied.
     Fox sighed.  With everything on his mind, he didn't need this.
     "Okay, I won't tell, but you have to promise me you won't do
anything like that again, okay?"
     "We promise," they said together with their long slender fingers
crossed behind their backs.  Fox didn't realize just how much his
sisters were like him.  Inquiring minds wanted to know.  They really
wanted to know.
     "An anonymous call to the police would have worked far better,
girls," he explained.  It would have been untraceable.  "Let's not let
too many detective movies and a flare for the dramatic interfere with
good sense anymore.  Alright, girls?  I mean that.
 And stay away from
those woods."
     "You used to take Samantha there," said Jennie petulantly.
     "How do you know that?" he demanded.
     "Daddy told us, when he told us to stay away from the woods."
Fox was angry, but in the face of their sudden bout of giggles, he
didn't know what to do.  He just watched them saunter off, thinking
that if he caught them doing anything stupid like that again, he would
have to tell Ed, no matter what. He was also annoyed that the story of
Samantha had been turned into a bogeyman tale to scare little girls
away from woods.  He went for a long walk along the beach, and when he
returned to the inn, Dana was waiting for him.
     "Hello, sweetheart," she smiled when she saw him.  "Both,
Johnson, Detective Kinsey, and some others are going for drinks at a
place called Murphy's.  They've invited us.  I told them we'd come for
a little while."
     "I don't want to go."  He looked at her. Her face didn't look
bad.  The ice had done wonders.  She had no right to accept an
invitation without asking him, however, and he was annoyed.
     "Come on, Fox.  I need to relax a little.  Just for a drink and
them maybe we can have dinner, take a long hot soak in the tub....I've
barely seen you, and I don't think your mother frequents Murphy's."
     "Jeez, I planned to work.  Oh, alright, but just one drink and a
quick dinner," he replied ungraciously, "And next time ask me."
     "Okay," she replied unhappily.  He really didn't want to be with
her tonight.  Well, maybe he would change his mind. She would think
positively.
     As it turned out, they ordered dinner at Murphy's, big juicy
burgers with the kind of fries that Fox usually couldn't get enough
of.  Dana enjoyed the company.  She liked Johnson and Both, and Mary
Kinsey and her friend Dolores were very nice.  A Marguerita began to
loosen the knot of tension at the back of Dana's neck, and she found
herself laughing, in spite of the fact that her husband sat rather
quietly and sullenly in his corner of the booth picking at his food
and nursing his scotch.
     After they had eaten, someone put some money in a jukebox, and
they started to dance, everyone that is except Fox.  Finally, Both
asked Dana to dance.  It was a fast number, a disco thing from the
80's.  Dancing was something Dana had always loved, and Both was a
fine dancer.  Then there was another, a fast number.  Dana looked
beautiful, sexy, moving to the music with distinctly African rhythms.
Fox sat there and glared. He was a good dancer too.  He just didn't
feel like dancing. Both and Dana looked good together.  Too damn good.
Bothrington was a damn good looking man. It was like watching his wife
with, say, Denzel Washington.  He didn't like the way Dana smiled at
the other agent. He liked even less the frank admiration he saw in
Both's eyes for his wife.
     "You are a fine dancer for a white lady," Both was laughing as
they returned to the table, "You have rhythm."
     "Why thank you, Sir." Dana smiled at him.  "I haven't danced like
that in...well, let's see, since I got married.  I forgot how much fun
it was."
     It was an innocent remark.  Fox thought for a moment that it
really wasn't fair.  He never took her dancing, or anywhere that they
might have a good time.  Then, she smiled at Bothrington again, a
lovely smile that lit her face, and he suddenly developed a headache
and took her back to the hotel quickly.
     He didn't want to soak in the tub with her, and he wouldn't talk
about the case.  While he took a quick shower, she slipped into her
green nightgown and purple panties.  Maybe making love would loosen
him up, she thought. She felt she could handle it, had to handle it.
The situation as beginning to feel desperate, and they had always been
so good together.  When she slipped into bed next to him, however, he
made no move toward her like he normally did.  When he didn't have
some crazy idea in his head that he shouldn't touch her for medical
reasons, she never had to make advances to him at night.  He was
always ready. Most of the time, it didn't end with just once.
     "Don't you want to...."
     "No," he lied and turned his back to her.
     She pressed herself against him and began to kiss his back.  She
loved the way he smelled.
     "I love you, Fox.  I have one more pair of purple panties for you
to rip off."
     "I'm tired, Dana.  Go to sleep."
     "Fox, we need to talk," she pleaded desperately.
     "No we don't.  I need to sleep."
     She sighed and buried her head against his back.  She knew he
wasn't going to sleep.  She also knew that if he didn't want to talk,
he wouldn't. If he didn't want to make love, he wouldn't.  Fox
wouldn't do anything he didn't want to do.  She lay there next to him
hurting deeply.  Fox felt his back grow wet with her silent tears.  He
focused his mind away from her and on to the case.  He knew what he
knew, even if he couldn't prove it.  He'd find a way, and if the
bastard had killed Samantha....oh, if he had done it.... Finally, he
slipped into a restless sleep.

===========================================================================
     
From: macspooky@erols.com (Macspooky)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Gener/Inlaw(5)/Macspooky/Juliettt
Date: 4 Oct 1995 09:11:02 -0400


Chapter 5  "Mother-In-Law"  All disclaimers still apply.

     "Ruth, I really don't think it's a good idea," said Ed Tillot
over the breakfast table.  He was really concerned about his wife.  He
knew he had to tell her the truth, and soon, but it was hard.  She had
had another argument with the girls earlier that morning before they
had left for school.  She had seemed more depressed than ever lately,
and this dinner party seemed to be something Ruth was looking forward
to. He knew that, although she wouldn't admit it, a part of her hoped
that maybe, just maybe Samantha was still alive, and another part
feared her little girl may have been lying in that grave for years.
     "Of course it is, Ed."  Ruth smiled at her husband.  "You know I
wasn't expecting Irene to come, but since she is, Fox will make a
perfect partner for her at the dinner table.  He likes brunettes you
know, dated a lovely woman in England for awhile."
     "If I know your son, Ruth, he isn't going to appreciate you
playing matchmaker."  Ed knew about the brunette Fox had been dating
in England.  She hadn't been lovely, no matter how nice she may have
looked.  The woman had broken the boy's heart.  Ruth hadn't accepted
that of course, only that her son had been dating an upper class
Englishwoman with impeccable credentials, but that it hadn't worked
out.
     "Nonsense, it's time the boy got married.  Maybe they will hit it
off.  You never know, Ed."  Ruth smiled again.  He was such a sweet
man, not at all like Bill had been.  She had loved Bill dearly, but in
retrospect, she realized, she should have gone to the high school prom
with Ed.
     "Ruth, I just don't think....I mean, Fox doesn't seem to be the
marrying kind," sighed Ed losing his nerve at the last minute.  Ruth
must really looking forward to this dinner party.  She had smiled at
him twice.
     "You aren't saying that you think he's gay are you?" asked Ruth
shocked.  "I mean Bill never would have allowed that...he was very
strict..."  She dropped the subject quickly.  Strict was one thing,
but after Samantha, Bill had lost his mind.  She decided not to think
about it.  "You'll see, Ed.  He'll like Irene. You know she's well
educated and beautiful."

     Dana had been angry at him, he knew, although she tried not to
let it show.  He had refused to have dinner with her yet again.
Still, he felt obligated to go to his mom's dinner party.  There was
no way he could get out of it without hurting her feelings. Ed had
said that she was really looking forward to it.  She had a lot of
connections coming that might be good for her fund raising work.  He
had his suit pressed and put on a clean shirt.
     "Besides," he told Dana tying his tie, "don't you have work to
do?"
     "I always have work to do, Spook," she said, "but I want to go
over the files with you."
     "Don't whine." He gave her a peck on the cheek. He didn't know
that to her, that perfunctory kiss was very painful because it wasn't
like him at all.  It was as though he were dismissing her out of hand,
while he went ahead and attended to important business.  Fox picked up
his jacket.  "Call Mrs. Anderson, and make sure Krycek is okay.  I'll
be back as soon as I can," he ordered distractedly.  He walked out the
door, ignoring what she told him he could do with Krycek.

     Amy and Jennie knew that this was going to be exceedingly boring,
not to mention bad.  Cousin Irene was a vulture, a real femme fatale,
and Amy and Jennie knew something that no one else did.  They had seen
a plain gold band on Dr. Scully's finger and had done a little hacking
into the hall of records in Washington, DC.  Failing to find what they
were looking for, they had located the desired information in nearby
Prince Georges County.  Their brother was having a relationship with a
married woman, his wife.  They had gotten married on Halloween.  This
was romantic and perfect to the girls, who knew he had the nickname of
Spooky Mulder. They had overheard that obnoxious fat FBI agent say it.
They had even heard Dr.  Scully call him Spook.  They thought it was
sweet. Now, Irene sat next to their married brother at the dinner
table, flirting outrageously.  Fox, however, seemed more interested in
Senator Jensen.  He did in fact, seem to be going out of his way to
kiss the old man's behind.  He was also paying attention to their
parent's other friend, another old geezer, Mr. Dennehy.  Neither of
the girls liked Dennehy very much.  There was something about him that
gave them the creeps and always had.  When they had been small, he
used to invite them in for lemonade, but they had always said no.
Sometimes their mom had taken the girls to visit Mrs. Dennehy, who was
very sweet and always gave them candy, before she died, but they had
always tried to escape quickly because they hadn't liked him.
     The girls were glad when dinner was over.  They hated discussing
college plans with the adults who condescended to talk to them, and
the talk of the latest charity bazaar their mother was working on
drove them insane with boredom.  They preferred to find ways to tap
phone lines, so their dad wouldn't catch them hacking when the bill
came.  Now, however, they hung around.  They didn't excuse themselves
until Irene managed to get Fox out on the enclosed patio.
     "So, y ou are an FBI Agent!"
     "Yes."  He looked at her.  Ed's cousin was gorgeous.  She had
everything a woman needed and in all the right places, he thought.
This was bad.  His mother was playing matchmaker.  He could tell.
Worse, the woman found him attractive.  He was going to have to weasel
his way out of this.
     Irene wasn't at all subtle.  The FBI agent gambit was her last
attempt at conversation before she slipped her arms around him.
Before he knew what was happening, her lips were pressed up against
his, and her tongue was in his mouth.  He could feel her slim body,
her breasts pressed against him.  He could have had her right there if
he chose. He felt himself rise to the occasion.  His mind said
married; his body cried single.  Worse, his arm had somehow slipped
around her. For an instant he felt himself responding to her. It had
been too many nights since he had made love to his wife.  Fox choked
and spluttered.  He gagged.  He pulled away. He didn't like the
woman's perfume, he told himself.  He didn't like the way she tasted.
She wasn't like Dana, beautiful Dana, alone at the hotel, with her
lovely red hair with it's subtle scent, and her clean fresh smell and
taste.  His body settled down into "married" as well.
     "Uh, look, Irene, this isn't the thing for us to be doing, okay?"
     "Why not?  Aren't I attractive enough for you?"  She teased in
mock hurt.
     "Yes, you are.  Absolutely gorgeous, but, I'm seeing someone
right now.  I mean...I kind of have a girlfriend, you know, and we
don't.....cheat."
     "Well, she doesn't have to know...."  The woman attempted to kiss
him again but succeeded in getting only as far as his collar.
     "Well, look, I just can't...okay....so that's the way it is."
Fox Mulder fled into the house just as quickly as his somewhat shaky
legs could carry him.  Jeez, in about 15 more seconds he would have
been doing it with her on the lounge chair. Damn brunettes anyway!
Irene was one sexy woman, and she had wanted it badly. She would have
been good too.  A guy knew these things. Once upon a time, he used to
fantasize about women accosting him like that.  Of course, when he had
been single, it hadn't happened, at least not quite to blatantly and
quickly.  Well, maybe it had sometimes but...
       He didn't hear the sounds of the potted bushes as two relieved
sisters snuck away. The girls really hadn't wanted to watch anyone
having sex on their parents porch. Although curious, they knew they
would have found it gross. They particularly hadn't wanted to see
their brother do it with another woman on the patio, not when he had a
beautiful secret wife at the romantic Captain's Inn, one who looked so
sad with dark circles under her eyes.  As for Fox, he had wanted to
hang around and speak to Jensen some more, as well as a few others who
lived in the area, but made up an excuse and fled the party before
anyone else could accost him.
 He didn't notice the
lipstick on his collar.

     Dana noticed it, however, immediately.
     "Have a good time, Spook?" she inquired looking up from the file
she was reading.  She had lit the fire.  This place was costing a
fortune beyond government per diem, and she had decided to use the
atmosphere.  He gazed at her briefly.  She looked so pretty sitting
there, the firelight dancing off her hair. Fox wondered how his body
could even have reacted as it had to Irene.  He sighed.  He wanted to
go home, to forget all this and just go home and be with Dana.  He
wanted to put his wedding ring back on and go to work in the morning.
He wanted to come home, play with the stupid parrot, make love to his
wife, make a baby with Dana.  He hated this, hated the case, hated the
place.  He despised the memories and lying to his mother.  He couldn't
bear the way he knew he was hurting Dana, no matter how hard she might
be trying to cover it up, and he might be pretending it wasn't
happening.
     "Right.  I always have a good time at mom's," he sighed.
     "Well, there are always exceptions you know."
     "There were some people there that I wanted to talk to, and I
did.  It was a productive evening."
     "Not too productive, I hope, since one of them wears Giorgio
perfume, the real thing, and pink passion lipstick, the color I can't
wear because it looks so awful."
     "What?"
     "What did she look like, Spook?  I bet she was brunette, tall,
busty...Did she smell good?  Do you like Giorgio, Fox?  How did she
taste? Just how productive was it, your evening I mean?"  Dana put the
file down.  "Did she provide a lot of clues? Did she remind you of
Phoebe?"
     "Look, I didn't do anything, okay," he snapped. "My mother
invited Ed's cousin to dinner and...hell."  He went into the bathroom.
He saw the lipstick.  Life sure was a bitch.
     Dana was standing there in the bathroom door looking at him.  She
didn't honestly believe he had slept with the woman, but she did have
a jealous streak, and he certainly hadn't been sleeping with her.
     "What?" he snapped, although she had said nothing.  He cursed
silently.
     "Nothing."
     "Stop looking at me that way.  Martydom doesn't suit you, Scully.
Besides, you looked like you were enjoying yourself pretty damn much
with Bothrington last night."  He came back at her.  He had a jealous
streak too.
     "A nice guy asked me to dance.  It's more than you've done
lately.  You think that a guy asking me to dance gives you the right
to go and play single white male again?" she demanded.  "Stop this,
Dana," she thought.  "He's your husband.  He wouldn't fool around on
you.  If anything, the woman threw herself at him."
     "I didn't play single white male."  He was hurt.  "My mother
played matchmaker."  He glared at her for a minute.  Jeez, had that
ever been the wrong thing to say. Would he never learn not to put his
foot in his mouth?  The last thing she needed to hear was more about
his mom.  He knew she was right though.  He never asked her to dance,
because he never took her dancing. He hadn't asked her to dance the
night before, because he hadn't wanted to go to Murphy's with her.  He
had been acting like the Fox Mulder he knew and loved so well,
spiteful and selfish, never considering her.  He had been doing just
what he had vowed not to do after the holidays.  He promised himself
that when they got back, it would be different.  They would go
somewhere and do fun things, relax.
     "Well, you haven't been playing married white male either."  She
was sorry as soon as she'd said it.  "Fox, we need to talk."
     "Oh, f--k you," he shouted his temper fraying as it had a way of
doing when he thought he was wrong and couldn't express his
feelings. "I don't think I've ever known a woman who could be as much
of a bitch as you.  I didn't do anything, and now I wish I had.
  She was beautiful, and
she sure as hell was ready."  He picked up his jacket and stormed out the
door.  He knew he
should have been reassuring his wife, not telling her how lovely Irene had
been and how ready. 
He couldn't.  He just couldn't.  He was sick of her not having any faith
in him, faith that he would
do the right thing even if it took him awhile, even though this time it
was taking him longer than
usual.
     Dana cursed herself silently.  She should have kept her mouth
shut.  Now he would go out and wander around all night, and she would
just lay there and worry, worry and fight tears.  She wanted this case
to be over, wanted to go home and be with the man she loved, not the
person he had turned into since coming here.  She wanted her husband
back.  She ran after him.
     "Fox, I'm sorry.  Fox, please come back."  She ran up to him and
took his arm.  "Please.  I know you didn't do anything.  I'm sorry,
okay."
     "Okay," he sighed.  He looked down at her.
     "Just don't go running off.  Please..."
     "Alright."
     "I know she threw herself at you.  Women do that.  I'm sorry. I
know you'd never cheat on me, Spook."
     "Well, I won't say I wasn't tempted, okay?"
     "Okay," Dana told him.  They went back in the room and sat next
to the fire.  She returned to reading her file, sensing that she still
didn't really have him back.  Dana also knew that it was probably as
close as she was going to get to an apology.  He picked up some
records and began to read them.
     "Dana," he started to say staring at her.
     "What, sweetheart?" she asked softly.
     "Nothing...just...I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea.  Okay?"
     "Okay."  It wasn't what she wanted to hear, but it would do. She
squeezed his wrist lightly.  "Fox, I love you.  Don't forget that."
     He nodded.  His attention turned to the file.  He knew what he
knew, but he needed evidence, damn it.  He needed hard evidence, and
the man's record was so impeccable he didn't know where to look to get
it.
     "Fox, maybe in the morning we can go for a walk down by the
beach," she said softly when she saw that he was getting ready for
bed.  He was going to sneak out with this binoculars again the moment
he thought she was asleep.  She knew it.
     "I don't think so Dana.  I have something I have to do."
     "Okay, sweetheart," she said softly hiding her pain.  There was
no point in arguing with him.  If he had made up his mind that what he
was doing was more important than her, she would never be able to
change it.

     The man sensed that the FBI was closing in, not the agents on the
case, but that damn Mulder.  God, how he had hated that boy when he
was a kid.  He had always been snooping around in the woods,
always. He'd kissed Mulder Sr's butt because it had been expedient to
do so, but if he could have strangled that kid.... It was a miracle
that Fox hadn't discovered the bodies years ago. Still, it would have
aroused suspicion if he would have started complaining about kids in
the woods.  Kids, boys, liked woods. The man cursed fate and the heavy
rains.  He should have done something to make certain the bodies
stayed buried.  He cursed trespassers, hikers, who had no business on
the island.  He cursed the Kennedy's for bringing scandal and
attracting attention and development to a place that had once been a
quiet haven for people like him, important, wealthy people.  Also he
cursed the compulsion which he felt growing again.  It had been years,
many years since he had felt the need.  Now, he was beginning to feel
as though he would explode if he didn't do it again, didn't have a
girl, a sweet young girl.  He was too old, he told himself.  It wasn't
supposed to be happening anymore.  He surely would get caught.  Now,
he might be able to keep Mulder at bay somehow, but if he did it
again....Still, the thought of a young girl was sweet, the frightened
look, the innocence and relaxation of her body after she was dead. She
would look like a sleeping angel.  They all looked like sleeping
angels.  He couldn't easily leave the island as he had in the past.
It was dangerous to think about a local girl.  Still, children had
disappeared here before.  There was precedent.  If he was
careful.....He would watch, watch and wait until he saw his
opportunity.  The Tillot girls had been nosing around....