Comments and suggestions about this story can be e-mailed to scully1@ix.netcom.com
This is my first attempt at writing fiction and I would appreciate all feed-back--positve and negative. I promise that I am not thin-skinned.

This story was writted early last year.  Many things have happened on the show since then that invalidate my premise, but here it is anyway.  This is not really an X-File story--it is a Mulder story.  It contains a liitle profanity, a little violence and some sex--nothing too graphic in any of the aforementioned departments. ;)

This story is based on characters situations created by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and the Fox Broadcasting Network.  No copyright infringement is intended.
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Walker
By Beth Wilson


	Sarah remembered the first time she saw him. He came into the diner early one morning looking lost, exhausted and rumpled.  It was her first day on the job; the first day of her new life and he looked like she felt.  He came over to the counter and ordered 2 doughnuts and coffee.  She made some joke about riding the sugar/caffeine train to alertness and he came back with a great wisecrack.  'Damn, what did he say?  This will drive me nuts until I can remember it,' she thought.  When he joked, his eyes lit up and his face came to life.  In some small way that she could never quite put her finger on, that spark of life gave her the strength to make it through that day.  If this guy could look so miserable and still be cracking jokes, she knew that she too could somehow survive.
	For about a year, he had come in almost every weekday.  He would miss a few days, maybe a week or so, but he would soon be back and placing the same order.  He always wore nice suits and crazy ties.  She couldn't help wondering if the ties were some kind of a joke he was playing on a conservative boss.  After all, his daily quips did prove that he had a wicked sense of humor.  She couldn't quite tell if he was flirting or not, but always thought that perhaps he was--or was that just wishful thinking on her part?
	After one of his short absences, he came in looking particularly distracted and lost.  For the first time, his order changed.  A bran muffin and a second cup of coffee were added to his selections.  She made some sort of comment about the added caffeine outweighing the health benefits of the muffin, but she got no response.  He gave her some money, but it was not enough to cover the bill.  "Umm, excuse me, but if you want more food, I'm afraid that I am going to have to charge you more."
	"Huh," he said and looked first at her and then at the register total.  "Oh, sorry," he mumbled as he dug the extra cash out of his pockets.  
	He looked so lost--as if a dream had been snatched away from him.  She didn't know if she should say anything.  Before she could decide, she heard the question, "are you okay" hanging in the air.
	He spat out, "yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be?"
	"I, I'm sorry...it's just that you seemed upset," she stammered.  'This is awful I shouldn't have said a thing,' she thought.
	"No, no...I'm okay, just late for work," he said as he took the change, grabbed the food and walked out.
	He kept ordering the extra coffee and bran muffin for a few months.  He acted like the surly day had never happened and the sarcastic remarks and wry smiles started all over again--but nothing more.  She was wondering if she should just cut to the chase and ask him out, but then she got too busy with her classes.  She was attempting to make up for her former lack of focus in life by getting her Assistant Social Worker certification in record time.  She was taking way too many night classes and was getting snowed under.
	Then today, a Wednesday, something different happened.  She was already in a sour mood because she thought that she had bombed her final last night, when he showed up at lunch time.  Sarah had never seen him at the diner during lunch, but there he was sitting at a table with a petit red-headed woman with a neat haircut, sensible yet attractive make-up and wearing a very smart suit.  In other words, he was sitting across the table from a bran muffin.  So that's why he never asked her out.  'Well, what did you expect?  It's not exactly like you're the best catch in town.  Funny though, the woman didn't look like his type--she looked too conservative.  Better go take their damn order before you get fired for lousy service.'

	Scully sat at their table wondering why Mulder had picked this dive for lunch.  She was sure she was going to be suffering from indigestion for the rest of the day.  Sure it was close to the office, but it didn't exactly look like they passed their health inspection with flying colors.  She was checking her spoon for cleanliness, when she noticed Mulder starring off into the distance.  She followed his gaze and her eyes landed on a waitress with thick black hair that was messily shoved up under her uniform cap.  Her hair was too short to stay under the cap, but too long to serve food without a hair net if not put up.  She had a multitude of long earrings dangling from her ears and almost shockingly green eyes.  Scully looked back at Mulder who seemed to be enjoying the view.  She hid her smirk.  'Funny,' she thought, 'she seems a bit wild to be his type.'
	The waitress briskly approached the table.  "What can I get you?" she asked tersely.
	Mulder kind of flinched and said, "What's today's special?"
	"BLT with vegetable soup," she shot back ignoring his look.
	"Sounds fine with me...Scully?"
	"Same here.  Can I have my sandwich on wheat bread?"
	"Sure," Sarah snorted as she turned and walked away.  'That woman (what kind of name was "Scully" anyway?) was definitely the bran muffin type.'

	"I don't understand it," said Mulder--a hurt look on his face.  "She's usually so nice."
	"What so you mean 'usually'?"
	"This is where I get our breakfasts every morning.  We usually chat and exchange a few barbs..."
	"You've been talking to her for months?" asked Scully with one eyebrow raised.
	"Well actually, I've been coming here for coffee and doughnuts ever since I started working for the bureau.  She started working here a little over a year ago."
	"Wait a minute Mulder, you've been buying your breakfast and chatting with her for over a year.  At some time you also started buying my coffee and muffin.  Then one day you show up with a woman to eat lunch and you wonder why she's in a tiff?  Mulder, I could tell that you were attracted to her 3 minutes after we got here."  Mulder jerked his head up and started to say something, but Scully kept going on incredulously.  "Don't you think that she would have noticed the same thing after all this time and is perhaps jealous of me sitting here with you?  Maybe she thinks you've been leading her on."  Scully was doing her best to hide her amusement, but she thought that he saw it anyway.  "For someone who is supposed to be so smart Mulder, you sure are dense when it comes to women."  
	"I was going to ask her out about a hundred times, but just couldn't do it," Mulder said while staring at the grease stains on the menu.  "Do you really think she could be interested?"
	"Yes Mulder," Scully said sounding very much like an impatient mother.  "Listen, we forgot to order drinks, why don't you go over to the counter and order me the a root beer.  And while you're at it, clear up this little misunderstanding.  I don't want any rumors going around DC that I have lowered my standards and am now dating you."  As she finished her last statement, she broke out into a big grin and winked.
	Mulder chuckled, "Well, here goes nothing."

	Sarah saw him approaching the counter.  'Damn,' she thought, 'he's coming over here.  Be nice, but no need to be too nice.'
	"Ummm," he said hesitantly, "we forgot to order drinks.  Could you add one root beer and one iced tea to the order?"
	"Sure," she clipped, "anything else?"
	"No...but, umm, would you, umm, maybe like to, umm, like to go out to dinner sometime?" he stammered while staring at the counter, the napkin holder--anything but her very intense green eyes.
	She glanced at Scully and then him.
	"Oh," he said blushing, "umm, I work with her.  She's my partner."
	"Partner?"
	"I'm an FBI agent."
	"Oh, that makes sense, the main building is near here right?"  Her mood was brightening.  She knew law enforcement types.  They would almost never get involved with their partners.  It was high on the list of taboo things to do.
	"It's a few blocks away," he replied casually.
	"So," she pursed her lips, "she's the bran muffin?"
	"Huh?  Oh, yeah," he chuckled, "is it that obvious?"
	"Well, she does look like the bran muffin type," she said with a crooked smile.
	"Yes, I can't argue with you there," he mirrored her smirk.  "So how about tonight?"
	"Huh?"
	"Dinner tonight; about 8:00?"
	"Umm...ok."
	"Great," he said with relief.  "I'll pick you up at 8:00 then," he said while starting to walk away.
	"Excuse me, can I ask two questions first?"
	He stopped.  "Sure."
	"What's you name?"
	"Oh," laughing, "it's Mulder."
	She looked puzzled.  "Mulder? Mulder what or what Mulder?"
	"Just Mulder." 
	She could tell that she was going to get no further information from him than that.  "Mysterious federal agent, huh?"
	"Yeah, something like that," he blushed.  "And the second question...?"
	"Would you like my address so that you know where to pick me up?"
	"Oh," he said, the blush spreading to his ears.  "Sure."
	She wrote her address on a ticket and handed it to him.  The cry of 'order up' came from the kitchen.  "Hey your lunch is ready.   Go sit down so that I can do my job proper like," she grinned.

	As he sat back down, Scully said, "Well, that took a while, can I assume that she said yes?"
	"We're going to dinner tonight."
	Scully was now grinning from ear to ear.  "My God, I didn't think it would ever happen.  Mulder gets a life!  And stop blushing--it clashes with your tie.  Of course, so does your suit..."
	"Funny Scully," he said as Sarah brought them their meals.  He sheepishly looked up and gave her a little nod.  "Thanks."

	After they finished eating, Mulder went to pay the bill.  "Hey," she said, "I guess I have one more question..."
	"What?," he asked while handing her the money.
	"Would you like to know my name?"
	"Already do.  It's on your, umm uniform," he said while pointing at her chest.
	"Oh, I forgot about that," she said self-consciously.  "Hmm, I guess it's just that keenly trained FBI eye, huh?"
	"Something like that," he grinned.  "Speaking of which, I better go."
	"Yeah, I hate to think of my tax dollars being wasted by paying for FBI agents to pick up waitresses," she smiled.
	"Oh you'd be surprised at how we manage to waste your money," he said with eyebrows raised.

	'Okay, now what do you do on a date with an FBI agent?'  God, it had been so long since she had been on a date.  Why did she say yes?  'Oh no, this dress would never do.'  She wanted to look nice, but not obvious.  She had felt obvious her whole life.  She finally decided on a nice black and green dress to set off her eyes--the one part of her body with which was truly happy.  Ok, all set--earrings, hair, dress, make-up and shoes.  It was only 7:45.  'Just sit down and try not to get too rumpled before he gets here.'
	8:00--he'll be here any minute now.
	Mulder was in his office finishing up some paper work when he looked at the clock.  It was 8:00.  Shit, he thought as he ran out of the office.  He dug her note out of his pocket--no phone number.  He couldn't even call to say that he would be late.  'Oh Mulder, you always make such a good first impression.'
	8:15--Sarah is starting to get nervous.
	On his way to the car, Mulder grabbed some flowers from a street vendor.  He had wanted to freshen up, get a clean shave and buy some prettier, more interesting flowers than these.  Somehow, he felt that her tastes were not mainstream.  'Of course they aren't Mulder.  After all, she agreed to go out with you.'
	8:30--Sarah was starting to feel rumpled.
	'Hmm,' he thought as he pulled up in front of the address on her note, 'this is not exactly the best of neighborhoods.'  He walked up to the outer door and buzzed her apartment.  She answered. "Hi, it's Mulder, sorry I'm late."  He realized that he had left the flowers in the car.  'You're hopeless Mulder.'  He heard the buzzer and opened the door.  He found her apartment on the 5th floor (no elevator). He was out of breath as he knocked on her door.  The door opened--she looked great.
	"Listen, I'm sorry...I know I'm late, but I got held up at work...I didn't have your phone number...umm, I brought flowers, but I left them in the car..."
	He looked so darn cute and bashful.  "It's okay, my father was a cop.  Law enforcement officials are notoriously late," she grinned.  "Come on in."  She was nervous as he looked over her apartment.  She knew it wasn't much and wondered what he must be thinking.
	"Did you give up on me and eat?"
	"No, let's go," she said as she grabbed her purse.  She was suddenly embarrassed at her surroundings.  The sooner they left, the better.
	"I like your Georgia O'Keefe print," he said.  "Most people like her flowers..."
	She looked at the print of  "The Shelton With Sunspots, 1926" and said, "Well, that's probably why I have this one.  I seem to want to do the opposite of what everyone else is doing."
	"Sound policy if you ask me," he laughed as they walked outside and she locked the door.
	When they got to the car, he unlocked and opened the passenger door.  "Oh," he said.  "Just a second."  He reached in and grabbed the flowers from the passenger seat and handed them to her.  "Wouldn't want you to sit on these.  Not that they're that great...just wouldn't want you to ruin your dress."  'God Mulder, that sounded lame--here's some real ugly flowers I want you to have--ugh.'
	She smiled, took the flowers, and said thanks.  These were definitely street vendor flowers.  He must have picked them up after he realized he was late...it was sweet though.
	As they were driving, he asked if Chinese was okay.  'Oh,' she thought, 'bad first date food--very messy,' but she said, "Sure, just don't expect any chopstick miracles."
	He nodded.  "Okay, Chinese food with American utensils it is."

	The restaurant was nice, but not too fancy.  Good, she hadn't under or overdressed.  They sat down and ordered--Lemon Chicken for her, Kung Pao Chicken, extra spicy for him.  "I'm sensing a trend here Mulder.  Doughnuts and coffee for breakfast, painfully spicy food for dinner--you just have no respect for your digestive system do you?"
	"None what so ever," he grinned.  "I'm trying to destroy as much of my stomach lining as possible.  It's a difficult task, fraught with danger, excitement, and unfortunately, misery."
	She laughed.
	"You seemed upset this afternoon and you weren't in the restaurant this morning.  Is everything okay," he asked tentatively.
	"Wait a minute, didn't I ask you that once and all I got was a rude response?"
	"What?"  he looked thoughtful.  "Oh yeah, I remember.  Sorry about that.  I had just been given a new partner that I wasn't sure about and we had just finished a case that..." he hesitated.  "A case that hadn't gone the way I wanted it to," he finally finished.
	"Sorry, want to talk about it?" she said softly.
	"No, not now.  This is supposed to be a pleasant evening," he faked a smile.
	"Okay, besides it's probably some top secret type stuff," she smirked trying to cheer him up.  Her heart sank when it seemed to have just the opposite effect.  There was an awkward silence.  Their dinner arrived.  Her eyes watered when she got a whiff of his chicken.  "My god, are you actually going to eat that?"
	"Hey, you gotta be brave to be an FBI agent," he grinned devilishly.  "So your father is a cop?"
	"Was a cop, he's dead now." she said matter of factly.
	"I, I'm sorry."
	"It's okay, he died when I was 14.  A long time ago..." her voice trailed off.
	'Okay Mulder, time to change the subject.'  "Well now fair is fair.  I told you why I was upset, it's your turn."  His eyes were watering from the chicken and he made a mad lunge for his tea.
	She tried not to giggle.  She just raised one eyebrow and said, "You okay?"
	"Yeah," he gasped.  "Just fine.  Go on, don't let my obvious pain stop you from telling me your woes..."
	"Oh, it's not much I guess.  I've been taking classes to try and get my social worker's certification.  I took my last final yesterday and I don't feel like I did very well."  She bit her lower lip.  "I called late this afternoon, but the results aren't in.  I'm just nervous that's all."
	"I'm sure you did fine."  He cringed inwardly when he realized how cliche that sounded.  "What do you plan to do with your certification?"
	"Well, I want to work as a victim's advocate.  You know, help people who are victims of crimes by putting them in touch with support groups and helping them deal with the police's investigation.  I really won't be able to get an actual victims services job without a four year degree, but I'm hoping that this will get me a related job so that I can make a bit more money while I study for a BA."
	"Like father, like daughter huh?"
	"Yeah, I guess.  He was a good cop.  Plus, I've had some people help me through some hard times.  Karma dictates that I return the favor."
	"Sounds logical," he nodded.
	"That's the first time I've heard someone describe Karma as logical." 
	"Let's just say that I may have a different definition of logic than Mr. Spock."  They both laughed.  "Seriously though," he continued, "it's going to be tough, emotional work..."
	"Tougher than being an FBI agent?" she asked.  "We all have to do what our hearts tell us is right--no matter how illogical it is to the Mr. Spock's of the world."
	He looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded.

	The rest of the dinner went by uneventfully--except for Mulder's occasional gasps and lunges for water--tea--anything.  The conversation went well.  They did the usual first date tap dancing around topics trying to get a feel for each other.  Finally, he looked at his watch.  "Hey, it's getting  pretty late.  I better get you back home.  You have to be at work before I do."
	"Yeah, I'm not a morning person.  I don't know how I managed to end up on the breakfast shift."  He paid the bill with a credit card.  When he set the card on top of the check for the waiter to pick up, she saw the name on the card: Fox Mulder.  'No wonder he went by Mulder,' she thought as she tried not to smile.  On their way out she said, "Speaking of work, I forgot to ask you just what you did for the FBI.  I mean, you said that you were an agent, but what sort of cases do you work on?"
	He kind of pressed his lips together in a slight frown and looked pensive as he opened her car door.  He walked around the car and got in the driver's seat.  "Well, I used to work in the violent crimes division.  My degree is in psychology and  I helped write psychological profiles of serial killers."
	"Oh, I saw a special about that on PBS.  It showed how agents came up with the profile of this serial killer.  When they finally caught the guy, the profile was so right it was spooky."
	He chuckled.  "Nobody ever called my work in that division spooky."
	"It must have been hard to try and get so into the killer's head and yet not let him into yours.  How did you manage to not take your work home with you?"
	"It's very hard.  You can get so wrapped up in a case that you can't sleep.  You spend all day trying to figure the guy out, that you actually find yourself thinking like him.  It can be...," he hesitated, then let his breath out and finished, "very disturbing."
	She paused to let him collect his thoughts.  She couldn't imagine this nice, shy guy involved in such violent and disturbing work.  Perhaps that explain the pain she often saw in his eyes.  "Is that why you don't work in that area anymore?" she asked quietly.
	"Oh no," he said casually.  "I came across some case files in another area that fascinated me, so I switched to that department."
	"What kind of files?"
	He flashed her a nervous look.  "Well, they aren't in the mainstream," he said guardedly.  "They are cases that deal with , umm, unexplained phenomena."  The last two words seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth.
	"Unexplained phenomena?  Do you mean like UFOs and stuff?"  She couldn't believe that they had files like this at the FBI.
	He didn't hear any sarcasm in her voice, so he carefully continued.  "Not just UFOs, all sorts of things: telekinesis, telepathy, why anyone would agree to go out on a date with me....You know, just the usual run of the mill implausible event."  He had that wry grin on his face again as he tried to sound casual.
	She grinned back at him.  "I was afraid for a minute that you were going to say, 'why anyone would agree to go out on a date with weird waitresses.'  But really, that sounds fascinating.  There is so much in this world that we don't understand."
	He pulled the car up in front of her place.  "Your not just humoring me are you?" he asked warily.
	"What?  No, I'm serious.  Why would you think I was making fun of you?"  She was a little hurt that he would think she would belittle him.
	He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes.  She was beginning to recognize this as his "perturbed" look.  "Those kind of cases are not exactly highly thought of at the bureau."
	"What do you expect?  I always pictured the FBI as a humorless, tight-assed bunch.  I was shocked to find out that you worked there...you just didn't seem to be, oh I don't know, the G-man type."
	Smiling, "We're not all that bad.  Shall I walk you up?  It's late and the light on your landing is out."
	"Oooh, my own personal FBI bodyguard.  I'd be honored," she said as she opened the car door.  "I keep telling the landlord about that light.  I guess it takes more than one landlord to screw in a light bulb."
	"Ugh, and I thought I told bad jokes," Mulder wrinkled his nose.
	"Sorry..."  She laughed while unlocking the outer door.  The closer they got to her door, the more awkward the ensuing silence felt.  When they reached her door, she put the key in the lock.  Turning back to face him she said, "It's really been a nice evening.  I hope your stomach survives that dinner."
	"Hey," he said with a mischievous grin.  "I just realized that I can say that I look forward to eating breakfast with you tomorrow and still be a gentleman.  That doesn't happen too often on the first date."
	She looked at him with one eyebrow raised.  "Mulder, I get the feeling that you're more than a little bit wicked."  He feigned innocence.  "Don't worry," she grinned.  "I think that's why I like you."
	He leaned in, gave her a quick, soft kiss on the cheek, whispered "goodnight" in her ear, turned the key and opened her door.  It all happened so quickly that she didn't have time to recover.
	"Night," she said as she stumbled into her apartment and shut the door.  God he had soft lips and a sexy voice.  No way would she be able to sleep tonight.
	
	On his way home, Mulder looked at his watch.  God, it was later than he thought.  Where did the time go?  They must have talked at the restaurant longer than he had thought.  This was a good sign.  He wondered what had happened to her father.  Her usually intense eyes went dead when she talked about his death.  How old did she say she was, 14?  That must have been a tough age to loose a parent--old enough to know what death means; that it is permanent and that you will never see that person again: yet too young to really deal with it.  Top it all off with typical teenage angst, and it must have been hell.  'Stop psychoanalyzing your date Mulder--she's a person, not a file.'

	Mulder came into the restaurant a little early the next morning.  Sarah already had his order bagged and ready to go.  She noticed that he looked as if he had gotten more sleep than her.  His eyes were sparkling.  She felt half dead.  Between her test grade anxiety and the memory of his breath on her cheek, she had had a restless night.
	"Morning," he said.  "Do you mind if I eat here?" he asked pointing at the bag.
	"Oh no, not at all," she smiled and got out a plate.
	He sat down at the bar and started munching on a doughnut.  "You look like you had a rough night.  Are you worried about your test results?" he asked softly.
	"Gads, do I really look that bad?"
	"No, no.  I'm sorry, you just looked tired that's all."
	"Well a certain FBI agent did keep me up past my bedtime," she smirked.  "But really, yeah, I was worried about my grade.  I should know by noon, but the suspense is killing me."  She decided not to tell him the other reason for her sleeplessness.
	"I'll come in for lunch and we'll celebrate, okay?"
	"Confidant little bugger aren't you?"
	"I just get the feeling that when you want something, you make sure you get it," he said matter of factly while shoving the last of his doughnut in his mouth and looking at his watch.  He rolled his eyes.  "I'm late.  Scully's going to kill me."
	"Let me guess, she's never late."
	"Never," he deadpanned.
	"I wish I had the confidence you have.  I don't know how I managed to give you this go-getter impression.  I'm usually such a basket case"
	He stopped dead in his reach for Scully's muffin.  He looked at her and said in a low soft voice, "No, you're not a basket case.  Don't ever say that about yourself.  You knew what you wanted to do, and you found a way to do it.  It couldn't have been easy to work here and get your certification."
	She was fiddling with the coffee pot--avoiding his piercing glaze.  She felt like he was looking right through her.  Damn him.  She works so hard at hiding and protecting her core self.  How could this guy, practically a stranger, find that spot with such ease.  She shuddered, looked down and softly said, "No, no it wasn't.  Thank you."
	He nodded, turned to walk out and casually tossed over his shoulder, "See ya at lunch."

	Mulder arrived at the office late, but looking chipper.  Scully noticed that he brought her muffin and coffee, but the his breakfast was conspicuously missing.  "So I guess you ate your breakfast somewhere else," Scully said teasingly.  "Must have been a good date."
	"Since I am a gentleman, you'll never know," Mulder said with feigned dignity.  "I ate at the diner on my way to work.  But to answer your question, yes the date went well.  She's an interesting person."
	Scully just grinned as she went back to her boring paper work.  She just knew she would feel the need to tease Mulder all day long to make up for the tedium of writing up case reports.  Why couldn't they just work cases and ignore the bureaucratic stuff.  'Hmmm,' she thought, 'and  I thought Mulder was the rebel here.'

	It was 12:20 and Sarah couldn't stand it anymore.  She was in the middle of the lunch rush, but she picked up the phone and dialed the school.  She wasn't doing much good anyway--just biting customers' heads off.  Might as well get this over with.  After being transferred a few times, she finally reached the right department.
	"Just a moment Ms. Reiser, I'll get those results for you."  She was shredding what was left of her nails.  As she looked up and saw Mulder and Scully enter the diner, the voice on the phone said, "Congratulations--you passed.  Don't forget to pick up you cap and gown before 5:00 pm tomorrow if you want to take part in the graduation ceremony on Saturday."  For a second, she couldn't tell what made her happier--the news she had just received, or the smile that crossed Mulder's face when he saw her.  She carefully placed the phone back on the receiver.  She had done it.  When she thought about were she had been just over a year and a half ago...
	She grabbed two menus and headed over to Mulder and Scully's table.
	"Good afternoon, would you like to see our menu?"  She asked wondering if anyone could see how rapidly her heart was beating.
	Mulder looked at Sarah.  She looked like she was about to explode.  "You passed," he said.  It was more a statement than a question.  When she nodded rapidly, he smiled and said, "Congratulations.  I just knew that you would."
	"A-hem, anybody care to fill me in?" asked Scully.
	"Scully, you are in the presence of a newly licensed assistant social worker," announced Mulder.
	"Congratulations," said Scully.  'Isn't that a two year degree.' she thought.  'She looks a little too old to have just gotten an associate's degree.  Don't be judgmental she scolded herself.'
	"Thank you," said Sarah.  But she had seen that thought flicker across Scully's face.  Her excitement dropped a degree or two.  She felt so pitiful standing here in front of these two obviously highly educated people.  They probably thought she was an idiot.
	"So when's your commencement ceremony?" asked Mulder. 
	"Well, it's Saturday, but I don't think I'm going...it's just a little 2 year degree and I'm the oldest person in my class.  It would just feel silly."  She looked at her toes.
	"What did I tell you this morning?" he said giving her that look again.  "You just accomplished something--you deserve to be a little silly now."  He gave her a soft, encouraging smile.
	"Well, I'll think about it..."
	"Think hard," he said seriously, and the he winked at her to lighten the moment.
	They heard the call of 'order up' from behind the grill.
	"I've got to get back to work, what can I get you two?" she asked hastily.
	"Two specials," he grinned.
	She grabbed the menus and went back to work.

	"Why do you think she waited until so late in life to get an associates degree?" Scully asked.
	"I don't know Scully.  Not everyone knows what they want to do from day one.  Besides, it's irrelevant.  She doesn't have a lot of self-confidence and the last thing she needs is two over educated eggheads belittling her degree."  
	His tone was only a bit reproachful, so Scully didn't think he was too upset.  "Oh, I know Mulder, I didn't mean anything like that.  I was just curious, you know?"
	"Me too, Scully.  Me too," he replied distantly.
	'Oh no,' thought Scully.  'Not only is he attracted to her, but he also considers her to be a mystery.'  She shuddered to think of what could happen when Mulder's one track mind tried to unravel a person instead of a case file.  She hoped that Sarah didn't scare easily.

	Sarah got so swamped with the lunch crowd that she didn't notice it when they left.  She found enough money on the table to cover the bill along with a note: 'Had to get back to work--meeting with a tight-assed, humorless boss.  Shall we celebrate over dinner?"  She smiled and pocketed the note.

	He called the diner around 4:00.  "I'm glad that you're still at work.  I just realized that I still don't know your home number yet."
	"Oh," she laughed.  "I just figured you'd use your FBI training to figure it out."
	"Well," he said sheepishly, "I could do that , but it would be a tiny bit easier if I knew your last name..."
	"Not till I know your full name Mulder," she teased him.
	"Well, I can see that I have my work cut out for me."  They both chuckled.  "So, are we going to celebrate tonight?  I'll be finished here in about 30 minutes, want to go somewhere?"
	"Sure, but I don't have a change of clothes here.  I'll need to go home first."
	"I'll pick you up and give you a ride.  When do you get off work?"
	"Well, I usually leave at 3:00, but my relief didn't show up, so Jay asked me to stay late.  But another girl just arrived, so I can leave anytime."
	"I'll be by as soon as I can, okay?"
	"Great, so you in a bit."

	When Sarah opened the door to her apartment, the phone was ringing.  She ran to pick it up and motioned for Mulder to follow her in and have a seat.
	"Hello...oh, hello Lieutenant Parker news sure travels fast...yes sir, I'll be sure to do that...yes sir, I promise...I know and he was fond of you too...ok, and thank you."
	Mulder sat on the sofa watching her during the phone conversation.  She seemed agitated and her tone was cold.  When she turned around to look at him her eyes were dead.  After she hung up, he asked if she was okay.
	She sighed and tried to calm herself.  "That was my father's old partner.  He's trying to atone for some past sins by getting me a job.  He somehow managed to hear that I had my license and was telling me to be sure to bring down a resume and fill out an application."
	"Do you want to work here in town?  It seems that there are a lot of emotional issues here."  Mulder kept his tone neutral.
	She laughed bitterly, "Listen Mulder, I already have a therapist, so just turn off that psychology degree okay?"  She sighed, let her anger go, and lightened her tone.  "Unless you think I'm some sort of dangerous serial killer..."
	He ignored her earlier angry tone and smirked, "I'll reserve judgment on that for now..."
	She smiled with relief.  She didn't want to hurt his feelings.  Her phone message light was blinking.  She started to press the play button, but hesitated as she glanced at Mulder.  'Oh what the hell,' she thought.  'He's already seen me loose my cool how could I embarrass myself anymore?'  She pushed the button..
	"Hey Sarah, it's Jen.  Sorry I missed your call earlier.  Congrats--and yes I passed too!  Please say that you're going to the graduation ceremony.  I don't want to be the only one over 30 there.  Later."
	"It's a conspiracy," she grinned at Mulder as the machine cycled to the next message.
	The next voice was not anywhere near as friendly.  The woman spoke in a cold and clipped manner.  "I got your message.  I'm happy you passed."  The machine beeped.
	"That's it?" Sarah asked through her teeth.  "That's all you have to say you total fucking bitch?" she ended in a yell.  She felt the need to hit something.  She turned and saw Mulder sitting on the sofa with a concerned look on his face.  That look was too much for her to bear just now.  "Excuse me" she spat out as she walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.  She kicked and hit the door until she heard a neighbor yell at her to be quiet.  She yelled back a few choice words and realized that she was being ridiculous.  She wondered what the hell Mulder was thinking.
	Mulder listened to the sounds coming from the bathroom and wondered who the person on the message had been. She sounded older.  He figured it was probably her mother--or an older sister?  Did she have siblings?  She hadn't mentioned any, but then neither had he...
	She gathered herself together and tried to calm herself as she smoothed her uniform.  Ok, she felt calm again--well almost.  She opened the door and went back into the main (the only other) room.  "Umm, sorry about that," she said bashfully.  "My mom and I ...well it's hard to describe."
	"That's okay," he said softly.  "Things aren't exactly great with me and my parents.  We're sort of estranged I guess."  He thought for a moment.  "No, I think that word is probably too strong.  We're...distant."
	"Yeah, distant.  That's a good word.  That's exactly how it feels...," she replied equally quiet.  The room grew very still.  "Listen," she said with forced cheerfulness, "I thought we were going someplace."
	"We don't have to go out if you don't want to..." his voice trailed off.
	"Really, you wouldn't mind?  I feel a bit drained."  Relief flooded her face.  "How 'bout beer and pizza?"
	"Sounds great.  You order the pizza and I'll go grab some beer," he said enthusiastically.  
	"Sure, what so you like on your pizza....wait, let me guess: anything and everything, right?"
	"Yeah," he grinned.  "Just as long as it causes as much indigestion as possible."
	"Okay, one supreme sans onions--sorry, I can't stand them on pizza."  She stopped for a second.  "Hey, do you have some casual clothes in that car of yours?  Pizza, beer and a suit just don't seem to go together."
	"Sorry, I only come equipped with G-men type monkey suits," he quipped.	
	"Too bad.  Well, go grab some beer," she laughed as she picked up the phone to dial a pizza place.
	Sarah placed the order and changed into some comfy jeans and a T-shirt.  She got some plates and napkins out and set them next to her diet Coke on the coffee table --living in an efficiency, she had no dinning room or table.  She hoped that he didn't mind sitting on the floor.  There was a knock at the door.
	She opened the door to see Mulder paying the pizza guy.  It seems that they had arrived almost simultaneously.  "Hey," she said, "I was going to pay for that.  You bought dinner last night."
	"No way," he replied while handing her the beer.  "I asked you out."  He finished the money transaction and shut the door.  Seeing the plates on the coffee table, he set the pizza box down next to them.  
	He started to sit on the floor when she said, "Listen, you can't be comfortable in that suit.  Go ahead and take off that jacket and loosen up that tie or I won't believe your earlier claim that not all FBI agents are tight-assed."  He chuckled, loosened his tie, took off his jacket and laid it over the arm of the sofa.  "Much better," she said as he plopped down next to her and started rolling up his sleeves.
	"Ah," he said after taking a swig of beer.  "Pizza, beer and a pretty girl.  The only way the evening could get any better is if there was a tacky B-grade movie on TV."
	She grinned.  "I have 'Plan 9 from Outer Space" on video--will that do?"
	"Perfect," he said just before he took a huge bite of pizza.  As she put the video in, he noticed how nice she looked in her jeans--much better than a waitress uniform.  
	She sat back down and took a sip of her Coke.  "What's the matter?" he asked.  "Did I buy the wrong brand of beer?"
	"No..." she hesitated, "I don't drink.  I'm an alcoholic."
	"Then why did you suggest beer?" he asked.  She saw almost no reaction to her confession.
	"You looked like you needed one," she smiled.  "Besides, what goes better with pizza than beer?"
	They stuffed themselves silly as they watched the movie.
	After the movie was over, she asked if he would like another drink.  He hesitated.  "Listen Mulder, it doesn't bother me at all.  If I was bothered by all of my past addictions, I would never be able to leave the house."
	"Hmm, a woman with a mysterious past" he paused.  "Okay, I'll have another one."
	She took the pizza box to the kitchen and opened a second bottle for him.  She handed him the beer and sat back down on the floor.
	"It must have been hard," he said quietly.
	"What?"
	"To stop drinking"
	"It was hell.  I was an alcoholic and a drug addict.  I had one of those stereotypical hitting rock bottom episodes and woke up in the hospital.  They checked me into yet another detox clinic, but this time I really wanted to change my life.  I was sick of what I had become.  That was a year and a half ago."
	Mulder's chin dropped.  "That recently?  I can't believe that anyone could come so far that quickly!  That's incredible."
	"I had just been out of detox for a week when I got the job in the diner--the first day I saw you."  She told him her recollections of that morning and how he had somehow helped her make it through the day.
	He was touched.  "I'm glad I could be of some help.  Do you still crave things, alcohol?" he asked quietly.
	She shut her eyes.  "Yes, sometimes I want to drink, smoke or shoot up so bad that it hurts--aches from head to toe."
	"Shoot up?"
	"Yes," she said still unable to look at him.  "I was a heroin addict."
	"You must have had a lot of pain in your life if it took both alcohol and heroin to deaden it."  He was almost whispering.
	"Yes.  It's a long story."  She hesitated and finally got the nerve to look at him.  Damn it; he was doing it again.  His eyes cut straight through to her core.  He hadn't been scared away.  He was still there and it looked as though he was willing to stay.  "You don't scare easily do you?"
	"Me?  An FBI agent who is willing to brave any digestive nightmare that you are willing to throw at me?  No, it would take a lot more to scare me away."  He put his hand on hers.  "If you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen.  The choice is yours."
	She felt all of her walls falling down brick by brick.  Damn, she had worked so hard to build them up.  Who was this guy--would he be around to pick up the pieces?  What price would she have to pay for opening up?  But she couldn't help herself.  She sighed as her story came flowing out in a quiet monotone.  She told him about how her father was killed in the line of duty.  How her mother had remarried 6 months later.  She even told him about her step-father.  About how he raped her.  How her mother wouldn't believe her when she told her.  How she ran away from home time and time again only to be dragged back home by her late father's cop buddies who thought they were doing the right thing.  How they lectured her for causing her mother so much pain--hadn't she been through enough?  
	As she went on, Mulder held her hand.  He wanted to put his arms around her, but after hearing about her step-father, he was hesitant to do so.  He didn't want her to feel threatened.  He was worried because she spoke with almost no emotion.  She seemed to be fully detached from her feelings.  She would not look him in the eye.  "You're telling me all of these things as if they happened to someone else.  Are you okay?"
	"Yes, my psychologist says that I need to get in more in touch with my feelings about my step-father.  I keep telling him that my defense systems have kept me alive so far, why should I give them up now?"  She finally looked at him--as if he held the answer to the question.
	"If you can't access your own feelings, can you really feel anything at all?  Aren't you just drugging yourself all over again?"
	She shut her eyes again.  His gaze was too much for her.  "Maybe, but it's a much more physically healthy drug this time.  Besides, I do feel.  I feel a lot of things, I just can't feel anything about him."  She hesitated.  "For example, I feel warmth and compassion coming from you, and I am grateful for it."  She squeezed his hand.  "You are the first person I have told these things to...at least the first person who wasn't charging me to hear them," she said with a small smile as she found the nerve to look into his eyes again.
	"I'm glad you told me, and I am here to listen when you need me."
	She leaned over and tentatively kissed his cheek.  His face was cool.  She softly kissed his lips.  "Thank you," she said without pulling away.  He gave her a soft questioning kiss.  When she responded favorably, he kissed her with a bit more conviction.  She pulled back a bit and put her head on his chest.  He pulled her close and held her, stroking her hair.   "That feels nice," she whispered.
	For some reason, he felt compelled to tell her his own pain.  Maybe it was the way she had opened up so freely to him.  Maybe it was because he felt the pull of another of the walking wounded.  He told her about his sister.  How she disappeared--was taken away from him while he laid in bed unable to do anything.  How she kept screaming for him over and over--this was why he hated to be called by his first name.  How it had torn his family apart.  How he had gone away to school and been recruited by the FBI.  How he had buried himself in his work to deaden his own pain.  How he had caused the death of 2 innocent people because he was too scared to do that work.  He told her about the X-Files and the road blocks that he and Scully seemed to find at every corner.  She tilted her head up to watch him as a spoke.  She listened to his voice rattle in his chest.  She felt the rhythm of his breathing.
	After he could think of nothing else to say, they sat in silence.  He finally said, "Man, when I promise a girl a celebration, I really know how to show her a good time."
	She chuckled softly.  "I don't know what your talking about Mulder, this has been a wonderful evening."
	"What?"  He pulled back a bit to see her face.  She had tears flowing down her checks.  He kissed her tears and said, "Yes, in a way you're right."  He pulled her back to his chest and they sat there holding each other.
	
               She awoke with a start.  My god!  They had fallen asleep.  What time was it?  Her watch said 5:00.  Great, she wouldn't be late to work.  She wriggled out of his arms trying not to wake him up.  His head had fallen back onto the sofa and he was snoring softly.  He looked so peaceful.  Still, she couldn't believe that she had told him everything last night--she was a bit embarrassed.  She tip-toed to her closet and got out a fresh uniform.  She closed the bathroom door and started up the shower.
	She walked out of the bathroom feeling refreshed and clean.  Not just physically clean either.  Last night had been a catharsis of some sort.  She smelled coffee.
	He was in the kitchenette making coffee when she came out of the bathroom.  She looked radiant.  He had a vicious crick in his neck and just knew that his hair was standing straight up.  He felt better than he had in ages.  "Coffee?"
	"Sure.  This is a switch," she smiled.  "I'm sorry I woke you up.  I tried to be quiet."
	"It wasn't you so much as it was your pipes.  I think your super needs to do some plumbing work."  He smiled as he placed two cups of coffee on the table and sat on the sofa.  "I thought you said that you weren't a morning person.  You look radiant."
	She blushed.  "Thanks, but I have had the benefit of a shower.  That never fails to wake me up and get me going.  You make good coffee," she said with mild surprise.
	"Oh, there is no end to my talents," he ginned.  "Do you have a spare razor, I would like to shave before I go into work."
	"Sure," she said as she got up.  She got out clean towels and a new disposable razor.  "Here you go.  Can't help you out with shaving cream though, you'll have to use soap."
	"Thanks," he said as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

	Mulder stopped by later that Friday for an early lunch hoping to get a chance to say hi, but he didn't see Sarah.  He sat at the counter and ordered a burger.  About half-way through his sandwich, she came into the diner and immediately went to work.  As she re-filled his tea glass she smiled and said, "Mulder, you're becoming quite the fixture here."
	"So it seems, can't imagine what keeps bringing me here.  It's certainly not the food."  He wrinkled his nose as he looked at his plate.  "Is there a different cook here today or something?"
	"Yeah, Mark likes his grease."  She looked down at the counter--suddenly shy.  "I picked up my cap and gown.  Would you like to go to the graduation ceremony with me tomorrow?"
	He smiled, "I would be honored."
	"I thought we could double with Jen and her husband."  She had a crooked grin on her face.  "It might cut down on the misery festival factor."
	"Of course: No wallowing allowed," he deadpanned.  "Well, I've got to get back to work," he sighed.  "I've got to meet with my boss so that he can tell me how much I screwed up my last case."  As he paid the bill, he asked, "What time shall I pick you up tomorrow?"
	"Umm, how about 5:00--that way, we'll have enough time to meet Jen at her place and then go to the auditorium."
	"Great," he said as he started to go.  "I'll see you..."
	"Wait," she was writing something down.  She handed him a slip of paper.  "I thought you should have this," she winked and went off to wait on another customer.
	He looked at the paper.  "555-4865 Sarah--no last name yet, you know the terms."  He smiled and got out one of his cards.  On the front, he underlined his first name.  Then he turned it over and wrote his home phone number on the back.  As he walked out, he slipped the card into her uniform pocket and whispered, "Terms met."

	Sarah felt silly, but she crossed the stage and got her diploma in front of all those youngsters and their parents.  She saw Mulder applauding politely as she walked down the steps. Afterwards, they all went to dinner and then to Jen and Mike's house.  Mike was an attorney and they lived in a beautiful home.  Jen had been a bored housewife before she decided to go back to school.  The four of them chatted easily.  Mike and Mulder talked a lot about the law and the criminal justice system.  She was impressed at the breadth of Mulder's knowledge.  He was so different around other people--so guarded.  She felt that every statement he made was already weighed and measured for the effect it would produce--even his jokes. But mostly, she thought that she could listen to his voice all night.
	It was very late when Mulder finally drove Sarah home.  Not being used to late nights, she was doing her best not to nod-off.  He walked her up to her door and stood there as she unlocked it.  "Thank you for talking me into going to the ceremony," she said.  "You were right, it felt good."  She looked up at him; he was so close.
	He put his hand on her check; caressing it with his thumb.  "It was a wonderful evening.  I never thought anyone could actually look good with a mortar board on their head."
	She blushed and tried to turn her head away, but his hand wouldn't let her.  He leaned down and kissed her softly on her forehead, her cheek, her chin, her lips.  When he felt her returning the kiss, he put his arms around her and pulled her close.  Their kisses grew in intensity as they explored and tasted each other.  She felt herself begin to melt.  She had to stop now.  She pulled away.  "I...I'm sorry Mulder, this is too fast.  I need time."  Her heart was racing.
	He relaxed his hold on her and nodded.  "No need to apologize.  Besides," he said with a wry grin on his face, "good things come to he who waits."
	Relieved, she slapped his arm.  "Mulder, are you ever serious?"
	"I'm always serious," he deadpanned.  "And call me Fox."
	She swallowed hard.  "You are serious aren't you?  Are you sure?"
	"Yes...I feel so at ease with you."  He looked down, took a deep breath and let it out.  As he looked back into her eyes, he said, "I don't feel the need to be on guard when I'm with you.  It's been a long time since I felt this comfortable with someone.  I know it sounds like a cliche line, but it's true."
	She couldn't look at his eyes.  She stared at his chin and whispered, "I have no choice in the matter.  You melt all of my barriers.  It frightens me Mul...Fox.  I feel so naked around you."
	He looked at her upturned face and brushed her lips with his.  "I can wait for as long as you need me to," he whispered in her ear.
	Her thank you was barely audible.  He squeezed her hand and said goodnight.  As she walked into her apartment, she realized that she was trembling.

	The phone was ringing...at least she thought that's what that noise was.  Sarah rolled over and fumbled for the phone.  "Hello," she croaked.
	"Hi, it's Fox.  Sorry to bother you."
	"What time is it?"  She was half awake and confused.
	"It's 8:00 Sunday morning."
	"Mm," she was drifting back to sleep.
	"Sarah, please wake up.  I have something I need to tell you."
	Something in the urgency of his voice cut through the fog in her head.  "What?" she asked as she sat up.
	"I just got a call.  Scully and I have been called in to investigate a case out of town.  I have to leave now.  I just wanted to let you know so that you wouldn't think I was ignoring you or something.  I'll call as soon as I get back in town."  He spoke rapidly.  She could tell he needed to go and was touched that he had taken the time to call her.
	"Thank you and be careful.  Talk to you soon"  
	"Bye," he replied as he hung up his phone.
	She couldn't go back to sleep.  She kept wondering if he was in any danger.  Damn, this was going to be harder than she thought.  She remembered how anxious her mother would get when her father was late from work.  'You grew up with this,' she thought.  'It's a part of life.  Accept it: there's no use in worrying about something you can't change.'  Her therapist would be proud of her "positive mind talk."  Too bad it didn't help.

	It was Friday, almost two weeks later, when Sarah came home to a message on her answering machine.  She punched the play button and heard his voice.  "Hi, I tried calling you at the diner today, but they said that you didn't work there anymore.  Is everything okay?  Just got back in town today.  Give me a call, Fox."  His voice sounded worn-out.  She had thought about him a lot during his absence and had come to a few decisions.  She didn't know why she was so drawn to this man, but she felt that there must be some reason.  A relationship with him would not be easy; and considering their many wounds, it probably wasn't advisable.  She felt compelled to pursue one anyway.  Her therapist had advised against it, saying it smacked of codependency.  But Fox was charming, smart and attractive.  Okay he was also obsessed with his work and his sister's abduction, but who in this world was perfect?
	She took of her shoes, put on some comfy clothes and dialed his number.  He answered the phone with a simple "Mulder."
	"Hi, I got your message--it's Sarah.  How are you?"
	"Hi Sarah.  I'm glad to hear from you.  I was worried when they said you didn't work at the diner anymore..."
	"You were worried?" she said incredulously.  "I get this covert call saying that you have to go out of town on a case.  Then I don't hear from you in two weeks and you were worried?"  As soon as she said it, she knew it was a mistake.  After all, he had a job to do.
	"I couldn't call you.  I was a very involved in a case. I'm sorry," he said patiently.
	"No, I'm sorry I snapped at you," she apologized.  "I guess maybe being a cop's daughter didn't prepare me for this as much as I thought it did."  
	"It's okay, I know you must have been worried," he hesitated.  "It's just something that can't be avoided...and it's a new experience for me too."
	"What do you mean?"
	"It's hard to leave a worried person behind," he said softly.  "It's something I have tried to avoid in the past."
	"Oh," she chewed her lower lip.  Maybe he had reached a different conclusion than her.  "Have you decided if your change of heart was wise or not?"
	He chuckled, "No I haven't.  I think I need to conduct further research."
	"Good," she smiled with relief.
	"So, you have still managed to avoid my question.  Why don't you work at the diner anymore?"
	"I got a job at the police department as a victim's counselor.  I'm 'in training' now," she was practically beaming.
	"You seem to keep giving me ever more reasons to invite you to celebrate." She could hear the smile on his lips.
	"I'm doing my best," she laughed.  "Speaking of celebration, how did your case go?  Is there reason to be happy for you too?"
	The weariness crept back in his voice.  "It was a very messy situation.  It involved one of my old cases in the violent crimes division.  Someone I helped put away escaped prison and they needed me to help track him down.  We caught him, but I don't think he will stay in prison too long.  He lives to trick, torture and outwit authority figures.  All-in-all a very nasty person."
	"Are you okay?  You sound like you are exhausted," her concern was obvious in her voice.
	"I'm doing okay, but yes I am tired.  I just can't get seem to get to sleep though.  I still have his thoughts rolling around in my head."
	"Sounds like you need a nice home cooked meal.  I have some left-over chicken soup that I cooked yesterday.  Why don't you let me bring some over and heat it up for you."
	"That sounds wonderful."
	He gave her the address to his place.  She got the soup out of the fridge, checked her appearance, and decided that it would have to do.  He was probably too tired to notice anyway--at least that was what she hoped.    Lieutinant Parker had done more for her than she thought possible.  With just a two year degree, she did not actually qualify for the position he had helped her obtain--an actual case worker in the victim's advocate division.  It turns out that their funding was just increased and they were drastically short of qualified applicants.  She had been in training for a week now.  It was exhausting.  She kept having to do practice scenarios with 'distraught victims' and even though they weren't the real thing, they were filled with tension--particularly since you knew that your every action was being judged and evaluated.  As she headed for the bus stop, she was looking forward to the diversion that this evening was beginning to offer.

	He opened the door looking totally exhausted.  As she walked in, he apologized for the state of his apartment.  She looked around to see files, books and papers everywhere.  "It's exactly as I pictured it," she said with a bemused expression on her face.
	"Really?  Hmmm, I must work on my image,"  he laughed.  
	"Where's the kitchen so that I can get this soup heated up?  How long has it been since you ate?"
	"It's through here and how did you know I hadn't eaten?"
	"Just a common characteristic of the obsessive compulsive mind that's all," she deadpanned.
	"Again, I must be giving off this terrible image...what the heck are you doing getting involved with a basket case like me anyway?"  He got a  pot out and she put the soup on the burner to heat up.
	She laughed.  "I could say the same to you.  Let's just say I'm a sucker for lost causes."
	As he grinned, the corners of his eyes wrinkled in the most delightful way.  "That's comforting," he said as he reached for her hand.  "I missed you."  He stood close to her and gave her a soft kiss.
	"I missed you too," she said before kissing him back.  She turned to stir the soup and he slid his arms around her waist as he kissed the back of her neck.  They stood like this until the soup was ready. 
	"Where are your bowls?"
	"Huh?" his mind had drifted off.  "Oh, I'll get them," he blushed when she turned to face him.  He got out bowls, spoons and some crackers as they headed for the table.
	They sat down to a somewhat uncomfortable silence.  He broke the silence.  "This is great.  I didn't realize how hungry I was," he said as he wolfed down the soup.
	"Fox, how long have you had these crackers?"  She eyed the cracker in her hand suspiciously.
	"Umm, I don't know...they are kind of stale aren't they?"
	"They passed stale a few months ago," she wise-cracked.
	"Sorry," he looked embarrassed.  "I don't eat at home much and I have been gone for two weeks..."
	"It's okay, it's just that the soup tastes so much better with crackers."
	"It tastes fine to me," he said as he got up for seconds.
	"Coming from someone with your culinary tastes, I'm not sure if that is a compliment or not," she laughed.
	"Hey, no fair.  Can I help it if I have a bachelor's taste buds?"
	He returned with another bowl full of soup and a soda for the each of them.  "I thought you might like something to wash this down with."
	"Thanks."
	They finished their dinner and sat down on the sofa.  "Do you want to talk about the case?" she asked quietly.
	He leaned his head back until it rested on the back of the sofa and sighed.  "I don't know...it was just such a mess.  This guy is really twisted.  He likes to attack women--rape them," he looked at her for a reaction and got none.  "He strangles them just enough for them to lose consciousness, rapes them, and then leaves.  He waits nearby for them to call the police and report the attack.  If they don't call, he calls for them.  After the police arrive, he shows back up and takes everyone hostage.  He loves the whole hostage negotiation process--it gives him a feeling of power and control over authority figures.  He plays mind games with the police and the hostages.  The weird thing is that no matter how well we have the place surrounded, he usually manages to somehow escape.  The last time I figured that he was using air vents--it was an industrial building that had rather large vents.  Four out of the last five attacks had taken place in such buildings.  I was waiting for him as he emerged from a vent.  We put him away for 30 years.  But he escaped two weeks ago and they called me in to help catch him again.  After three more hostage situations, we managed to grab him.  This time he was going up a chimney!"
	"How can he do that?"
	"I think he can dislocate his shoulders a la Houdini.  Anyway, he's now on his way to a maximum security prison case closed," he paused.  "It's just that sometimes a case is hard to shake."
	She took his hand.  "Ya did good.  Bet your bosses were happy with you this time."
	He let a small smile escape, "Yes, no aliens or weird happenings in this one--just one sick human being."  He squeezed her hand wanting to change the topic.  "So how has your training been going?"
	"It's been real intense, but so far everything has been going well.  I go on regular duty after next week.  It feels good to have a job with some meaning.  We keep doing these scenarios--you know role playing.  It's supposed to be helpful, but I know real life will be nothing like the classroom."
	"There are some things that nothing can prepare you for," his voice grew distant.  His head snapped up and he looked into her eyes.  "Wait a minute, we're doing it again.  We are really a depressing pair aren't we?"
	She laughed and shrugged.  "Birds of feather?"
	"Yeah," he grinned, but his expression soon became serious again.  He reached out and caressed her cheek.  "If it gets to be too much, you can always talk to me."
	"Thanks," she replied softly.  "It's nice to know that someone with a bit of experience in situations like this has faith in me," she blushed.  "It's yet another a new feeling to get used to."  She leaned over and kissed him.   He pulled her closer and kissed her thoroughly.  She let her mouth fall open and his tongue explored her.  She moaned softly as she put her arms around his neck.  She sucked on his tongue and then explored his mouth with hers.  She felt herself melt again and this time enjoyed the feeling.  She kissed his chin and his neck.  She looked at him.  His questioning eyes looked into hers.   She reached down and stared to unbutton his shirt.  He put his hand on hers.
	"Are you sure?" he asked
	"Yes," she wanted to relieve his doubts.  "I want to make love with you."
	"Okay, but umm, if you can change your mind, you can stop at anytime.  I don't care if it means that I have to spend a whole week taking a cold shower, okay?" he said trying to relieve some of the tension.  
	He was looking deep into her eyes, doing that soul piercing thing that drove her crazy.  She nodded and pulled his face down to hers.  She kissed him and started to unbutton his shirt again.
	"Come here," he stood up and took her hand.  He led her into the bedroom.  Once again his arms surrounded her as he kissed her.  She finished unbuttoning his shirt and he shrugged his way out of it.  She loved the feel of his bare skin.  She waited for him to take her shirt off, but he made no moves.  
	She pulled back a little.  "Do you want this?" she asked suddenly unsure.  
	"Yes," he said.  "But I want to make sure that you want it--that you feel no pressure.  You will have to make all the moves."
	She smiled a crooked smile, "Fox you are either a wonderful gentleman, or a lazy pervert."
	He laughed as he kissed her again.  "Well, it'll be up to you to figure out which it is."
	She unbuttoned her shirt and he helped her slide it off of her shoulders.  The feel of his fingers on her bare flesh made her quiver.  She reached to unhook her bra.  He helped her and soon her bare chest was pressed up against his--it felt delicious.  She moved his hand to her breast and he started caressing and kissing her.  His mouth teased her nipples until they were almost painfully erect.  As she pulled her leggings down, she lost her balance and ended up sitting on the bed.  She finished taking them off.  Then pulling him close, she kissed him on the stomach.  His fingers were wrapped up in her hair as she started to unbuckle his belt.  She could feel him underneath the fabric as she pulled the zipper down.  His pants fell to the floor as he sank onto the bed next to her.  She worked her way back up to his face and he kissed her with an intensity she had never felt before.  He kissed her neck and worked his way slowly, methodically down the right side of her body.  Everywhere that he kissed felt cleansed of past sins and abuses.  She felt tingly and alive from head to toe.  He reached the toes of her right foot and then started on the left, slowly working his way up to her thigh.  When he got to her upper thigh, he stopped and looked up into her face.  She started to tug her panties down.  He helped her rid herself of the last remnant of clothing.  She opened her thighs and he began to stroke and kiss her most private place.  She shuddered as she lost control of her mind and body.  This was a plane she had never reached before.  He worked his way back up the left side of her body--kissing and caressing every inch of her.  She reached down to pull of his boxers.  He hesitated and said, "Wait a minute."  He reached over to the night side stand and pulled a small package out of the drawer.  
	"Want help with that?" she asked.
	"Umm, sure," he said as he opened the wrapper.
	She took the condom from him as she began to stroke him.  He moaned and slid back onto the bed.  Slowly, she put the condom on and let her hand trail back up his stomach and chest.  She pulled him to her.  When he entered her, she thought that she had never felt so close to another human in her life.  He let her set the rhythm as they moved in unison and opposition.  
	Later, she rested her head on his chest and listened as his breathing returned to normal.
	"You're awfully quiet," he whispered as he was stroking her hair.  "Are you okay?"
	"I'm more than okay," she said dreamily.  "I'm wonderful."
	He laughed.  "That's nice to know...I was thinking that you were pretty wonderful too."
	She pulled herself up on one elbow and looked into his eyes.  "Remember how I said that I was frightened about how you broke down my barriers?"
	He nodded.
	"I'm no longer afraid.  Thank you....," she grew quiet and looked away.  "Fox, I've been raped; I've fucked; I've been fucked; I've sold myself for drug money; I've even been cruel enough to fuck someone who was making love to me, but I have never made love with someone before."  She looked back into his eyes.  "I love you."
	He put his hand on her cheek.  "I love you too."   He kissed her.  "I can't believe I can feel this way about someone I meet so recently."
	"What do you mean?  We met over a year ago," she smiled.
	"You know what I mean," his voice was serious, but there was a smile on his face.
	"Yes," she said softly as she laid her head back on his chest and hugged him.  Soon they were both asleep.  

	The sun streaming in through the windows woke her up the next morning.  At first Sarah was startled at her unfamiliar surroundings, but as the memory of the night before flooded back she relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of Fox's body laying next to her.  Trying not to wake him, she slowly pulled herself up onto one elbow.  Staring at his face, she thought about how peaceful it looked.  Sleep, the cosmic eraser, had done away with the lines on his face.  She tried to get up from the bed, but her movements woke him.	"Good morning," she said as his eyelids fluttered open.
	He looked confused for a moment--the same thoughts crossing his mind on waking as had crossed hers.  As he smiled and said good morning, his arms tightened around her.  He pulled her toward him and gave her a kiss.
	She smiled as she kissed him back.  "Fox, I don't mean to be rude or unromantic, but my bladder is screaming at me."  He laughed and let go of her.  She looked around and found her shirt.  She sat up with her back to him, put the shirt on and then head for the bathroom.
	He got up, put on a robe and went to the kitchen to fix some coffee.  When she emerged from the bathroom she heard him in the kitchen.  Leaning against the doorway she watched as he put the coffee in the coffee maker.  He looked half awake and most of his hair was standing straight up.  Of course, after what she saw facing herself in the bathroom mirror, she had no reason to complain.  "Well, I can see one thing that we  have in common," she said with a grin on her face.  He turned to face her.  "Neither of us is a morning person."
	He feigned a hurt look.  "What do you mean?  I think that I'm positively dashing in the morning."  His face changed to a devilish grin, "You, on the other hand, look a bit rumpled."
	She threw a pot holder at him.  The joking though helped ease the awkwardness that she felt.  It was strange the first morning that you woke up with a lover--disorienting to be so calm after all of that passion.  "I don't suppose you have anything here that's fit to eat for breakfast?"
	He pursed hi lips as he started digging through his cupboards.  "Hmm, I have some stale cereal, some green bread, and some instant oatmeal."
	"I think the instant oatmeal is the safest option," she shook her head.  "Here, I'll fix it--don't want to risk having you trying to spice it up or anything."  He handed her the oatmeal with little protest.
	As they were eating breakfast, he asked her what she wanted to do today.  She said that she didn't have anything planned, so he asked if she wanted to go to a little museum that wasn't too far away.  He had read about an art exhibit there that he wanted to see.  She agreed.  After breakfast and showers, they were on their way.
	It really wasn't much of a museum--just a tiny little place.  Once inside, she saw the paintings that must have drawn him here.  Sure enough, he headed over to a series of paintings depicting weird looking alien beings.   She stepped up behind him and said, "It's the weekend.  You're not supposed to do work on the weekend."
	He looked a bit embarrassed as he replied.  "Can I help it if my work is also my hobby?"
	"I guess not," she sighed as she took his hand.  Some of the paintings were actually quite good and she found herself enjoying them.  He would stop from time to time and copy down the name of an artist.
	They left and he drove to a park.  As they got out he said, "It's such a nice day...thought we'd go for a walk."  
	He had been very quiet since the museum.  She thought that some of the paintings had upset him.  "Sure," she said.  "Sounds nice."  He reached out for her hand and they walked in silence.  After a while, they stopped and sat on a bench.  She watched the families playing and the couples strolling by.  He seemed to relax a bit and actually enjoyed their silence.  Her stomach growled.
	"You wouldn't happen to be hungry would you?" he laughed.
	She was embarrassed.  "Well, now that you mentioned it..."
	"There's a sidewalk cafe near her.  How 'bout we eat lunch there?"
	"I think my stomach would like that very much.  After all, it's 3:00 in the afternoon."
	"Have we been here that long?"  He looked shocked as he glanced at his watch.  "Why didn't you say something?"
	"You looked like you needed time to think...besides, I was enjoying myself"
	He looked at her.  While he was upset that he had apparently 'drifted off' so far while with her, she didn't look ticked though.  He squeezed her hand and looked down.  "Thank you.  You are right.  Some of those pictures just got to me I guess."
	"I won't hold it against you as long as you get me to that restaurant ASAP," she smiled.
	"Yes ma'am!"

	Later, they ended up back at his place--videos and Chinese take-out for dinner in tow.  They sat on the floor, ate and watched Monty Python's "The Holy Grail" and "This is Spinal Tap." While at the video store, they had decided that they needed to ensure that the dreary factor would not enter into the equation this evening.  It was a good idea, but her sides ached from laughing so hard.  After the movies, they sat and talked and munched on sunflower seeds.

	She woke up the next morning to find herself sitting on the floor with him asleep sitting next to her.  She felt a strong sense of deja vu.  What was it about this guy--on 3 out of 4 dates she had found herself waking up next to him.  She turned the TV off and he woke up.
	"Oh god," he said groggily.  "My butt hurts."
	"Too bad, it's such a cute little butt too," she smiled.
	He threw some sunflower seeds at her as he struggled to get up.  "I'm getting too old for this.  You want some coffee?  I don't think I can face that oatmeal again."
	"Coffee and oatmeal for me," she said smiling.  "I need a shower to wake myself up...I wish I had some clean clothes to wear.  I've worn these for two days now--I'm feeling a bit rank."
	He looked her up and down.  "Well, let's see what I have."  He went to his bedroom and she heard him rummaging around.  He came out with a smallish sweatshirt and some shorts.  "I've had these for ages.  I, umm, accidentally dried them to death and they shrunk up a lot...maybe you could wear them."
	She took them from him and held them up to herself.  "It just might work...you wouldn't happen to have a spare bra and panties would you?"
	He laughed.  "Sorry, I can't help you there."
	"Actually, I find that somewhat comforting.  I was worried about the possible influence J. Edgar Hoover might have had on your life."  He laughed again.  "I guess that I'll just have to go without," her grin grew quite wicked.
	"Oooh, that's a mean thing to tell someone," he feigned a wounded look.

	She came out of the bathroom looking like a tomboy wearing her older brother's clothes.  He smiled.  "That's a good look for you."
	"Well, at least it's comfortable...and airy.  Coffee smells good," she said as she sat down at the table.
	"Okay, now it's my turn to clean up," he said as he headed for the bathroom.
	They were drinking coffee and passing sections of the newspaper back and forth when she said, "You know Fox, we don't have to spend every minute of the day together.  Do you have something that you need to do today?"
	"Are you sick of me already?" he pouted.
	"Don't be silly, I love spending time with you.  I was just thinking that you just got back into town after being gone for two weeks and that you may have things to catch up on--people to get back in touch with."
	He stared at his coffee.  "I don't have a lot of friends.  Just Scully and we don't see each other away from work."  He looked bask up at her, "I do have a report due first thing in the morning though.  I really should work on it, but I was looking forward to spending the day with you.  I kinda like being around you all of the time."
	"You're sweet," she demurred.  "I've got an idea.  Why don't I go home and get some clothes.  While I'm out I'll get the stuff to make my famous 'all day spaghetti' and I'll cook while you work."
	"Just like an old married couple," he laughed.  "Okay, but does that mean you won't be so free and breezy when you get back?  I was kind of looking forward to that."  His smile was decidedly wicked.
	She slapped his hand as her cheeks flushed.  "You dirty old fox you." He groaned.  "Sorry, sorry.  I just couldn't resist.  Maybe if you promise to be a good boy..."
	"But if I promise to be a good boy, what's the point in worrying about your state of dress?"  
	He was enjoying her discomfort, but she couldn't stop the blush from spreading to her ears.  "I'm leaving now."  She started to get up from the table.
	"Wait, wait a minute," he said between laughs.  "You don't have a car do you?  Can you drive?"
	"Yeah, I can drive...just can't afford a car.  Why?"
	"Take mine.  I'll be here working--no sense in you having to take the bus."
	"Are you sure?  I don't mind the bus.  In fact, I'm quite used to it."
	"Sure it's okay.  And this way I won't feel so bad about asking you to take the videos back," he smiled guiltily.
	"A man with ulterior motives.  You just keep surprising me Fox."  She winked at him as he handed her the keys to his car.

	She came back a few hours later wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt.  He helped her bring the groceries in.  She had bought him some groceries to help him make it through the upcoming week.  He looked in the bags and then at her with a questioning look.  "I didn't want you to go hungry.  I mean you have absolutely nothing fit to eat in this place."  He just smiled and went back to his work.  She started on the sauce.  It was her mother's recipe and took all day to simmer.  Every now and then, she would peak at him in the other room.  He was at his computer surrounded by files and notebooks.  He kept looking from one to the other and then he would type a bit.  After she got all of the ingredients into the pot, she went into the living room and sat down on the sofa.  She had brought a book with her to help keep herself entertained while he worked.  It all felt so eerily domestic.
	After a while, she noticed that it had been a good bit since he had moved.  He was just staring out the window.  She watched for another five minutes and still no movement.  She got up and quietly walked over to him.  Putting her hand on his shoulder she said, "Are you okay?"
	He started a bit and slowly nodded his head.  "I just realized something.  This guy, Walker, that I told you about..." his voice trailed off.
	"Yes," she said.  "I remember."
	He sighed.  "He is scared to die.  He will do anything to avoid it.  It is the ultimate loss of control.  It is the one thing from which he can't escape.  I should have realized that earlier."  The whole time he spoke he stared straight out the window.
	"Okay, but how would that have changed things?  Would it have mattered?"
	He stared out the window--his eyes very distant as he clenched his teeth.  "Yes, you see, the only reason the hostage situations lasted as long as they did was that he threatened to kill his hostage.  We could not storm the place as long as he was a threat to the hostage's life.  It was this delay that gave him the time to escape.  If I had realized that his fear of death went so deep, I would have known that he would never kill his hostage.  He would never take the risk of ending up in the electric chair.  I could have saved a lot of suffering."  Half-way through his statement, he closed his eyes.
	She turned his chair around and knelt down in front of him.  "Fox you don't know that."  She took his face in her hands.  "You did everything that you could.  Besides, be reasonable, you were not the only official on sight.  Do you really think that they would have taken that risk--no matter how good you are or how right you are.  They would never risk a victim's life like that.  You would have been over-ruled."
	He opened her eyes and looked into hers.  He unclenched his teeth and let out a deep breath.  "You're right.  I'm just pissed at myself for having missed it."
	"You have to stop feeling responsible for the whole world.  You can't save everyone," she said softly as she stroked his hair.
	"Yeah, I know," he looked away.  "It's just hard some time.  When they call in a profiler it's usually because they've run out of other resources.  You get used to being considered as the 'great last hope.'  I guess I just take that to heart a bit too much."
	"Must be one of those male ego type things--the great hero called in to save the day," she smiled as she kissed his forehead.  "Just to let you know, I can take care of myself--don't go worrying about me.  I think that I've already proven that I can survive almost anything."
	He smiled and said sarcastically, "Thanks, I feel so relieved.  I better finish this thing or Skinner will eat me alive.  How long until the spaghetti's ready?"
	"Skinner will eat you alive?  There's a certain irony in his name don't you think?"
	He laughed, "Hey I never thought about that.  Yes, sometimes I do feel like I'm about to be skinned alive when I hand in my reports."
	"Spaghetti will be ready in," she glanced at her watch, "two hours.  You finish what you're doing and I'll go back to my book."  It felt good to see him laugh.  

	She heard him the printer start up as she set the salads on the table.  He looked up and said something about their timing.  He helped her dish up the spaghetti and they sat down to eat.  
	"Oh my god," he enthused.  "This is the best spaghetti I have ever tasted.  It's worth having to sit there and smell it all day.  I can't tell you how many times the words 'spaghetti' and 'sauce' kept finding their way into my report."
	She felt her face flush.  "I'm glad you like it.  It's one of my all time favorites too.  Besides, you know what they say about the quickest way to a man's heart."
	"But you already found the way to mine."
	She tried to laugh off the serious tone in his voice--some times it was hard to tell when he was joking.  "Yeah, I know--it was the oatmeal wasn't it."
	"Nah, I'm a sucker for uniforms.  Especially for ones in the food service industry," he grinned.  "By the way, I forgot to ask you, just how airy is your outfit tonight?"
	"You're trying to distract me, but it's not going to work.  I'm just going to sit here, eat my spaghetti and ignore you," she rolled her eyes up to the ceiling.  He laughed.
	He was later disappointed when he found out the true details of her clothing, but he didn't let that stop him...neither did she.

	The alarm went off the next morning and they both felt sad that they had to return the real world.  The weekend had been such a wonderful escape.  She was happy that she had decided to pick up a set of work clothes when she had gone back to her apartment.  They fixed a real breakfast with the groceries she had bought and then he dropped her off at work.

	Scully was surprised when Mulder not only showed up on time, but also looked bright and chipper.  She figured that he had spent the whole weekend obsessing over the Walker case.  "Morning Mulder.  My don't you look rested.  Have a good weekend?"
	"Yep, it was wonderful."  He had the silliest grin on his face.  "Notice your working on your report of the Walker case.  What's a matter Scully, are you falling behind on your work?  I already finished mine."  He laid the case file down in front of her.
	"Some of us have lives to lead away from this place Mulder," she grimaced.  He never finished with paperwork before her.
	"Oh, I have a life; a very nice one as a matter of fact."  She couldn't believe that his smile could get bigger, but it did.  "I just also manage to get my work done on time too."
	"Why Mulder, I think you're love struck--Or were you just abducted by aliens who gave you goofy shots."
	He laughed.  "Thank god it's the former...although the latter might wear off sooner."
	"I don't know if I can deal with a happy well adjusted Mulder.  It turns my whole world view onto it's side."
	"I keep telling you that you must always be open to extreme possibilities Scully.  Now I will be the first to admit that this is pretty extreme, but the frightening thing is that I think I am totally smitten."
	Scully laughed.  "Mulder, I've said it before and I'll say it again--you just keep unfolding like a flower.  Now shut up and stop smiling.  I can't concentrate on my work with all of that smiling going on."  They both laughed.  "By the way, were you too moonstruck to bring me a muffin this morning?"
	"Oops, I knew I was forgetting something.  I'll go get you one.  It'll give you time to get caught up."  He managed to duck just in time to avoid the paper clip that she lobbed towards him.

	The week went by fairly uneventful for both Sarah and Mulder.  She finished up her training and he finished up his paper work.  He was working on a new case, but it was a local one so she still got to talk to him every day.  They had dinner a few times, and she stayed over at his place once.  They both seemed to need to step back from the intensity of prior weekend just a bit.   Saturday rolled around and he asked her out to a picnic lunch.  She accepted whole-heartily.
	They had a wonderful lunch.  She had to admit that he made a damn fine sandwich--piled high with lots of goodies.  He tried to teach her how to play Frisbee golf, but gave up after several fits of laughter at her total inability to get the Frisbee anywhere near the target.  She resigned herself to watching him play.  He drove her home as the sun was setting and she invited him up.  They sat and talked for hours.  He told her about his new case; she talked about how she was a little nervous about doing actual 'real' work next week.  All in all though, it was a happy, angst-free day.  When she realized that, she brought it to his attention.
	"Hey, that's a first for us isn't it?  We must be progressing or something," he smiled.
	She laughed and said, "I think so."
	He pulled her close and gave her a kiss.  "It's nice to know that we don't have to be miserable when we are around each other."
	She kissed him back and said, "Who said that I was miserable all the time?"  Her kiss grew more passionate and he followed her lead.  "So, do you want to inspect the airiness of my outfit Agent Mulder?"  
	He chuckled as he looked around the room.  "You don't have a bedroom do you?"
	"No. Let me open up the sofa," she replied
	"Does that mean I have to let go of you?" he looked hurt.
	"Just for a second, okay?"
	"Promise?"
	"I wouldn't have it any other way."  She gave him a kiss as she wriggled out of his arms.

	She reported to work on Monday and they assigned her to the Sex Crimes division.  It seems that she did rather well on the role-playing episodes that involved rape victims.  They said that the empathy she gave the fake victims seemed genuine--surprise, surprise.  She had even scored higher than some of the more qualified candidates.  Her first case had her at the hospital.  A woman had called the police when she was raped and the officer had taken her to the hospital.  Now that she was there, however, she was refusing an exam.  Sarah tried to tell her that she understood that the exam was demeaning and very hard to go through; especially right now.  But it was necessary for the police to collect evidence if she wanted the guy to be punished.  It took her a long time to calm the woman down and get her to consent to the exam.  Sarah held her hand and tried to explain exactly what the doctor was doing and why it was necessary.  Afterwards, she drove the woman home and helped her call her family and friends.  She held her hand again as the woman told people what had happened.  Sarah called and made an appointment for the woman at one of the local rape counseling centers.   She made her promise to keep it.  Sarah waited until the woman's mother came by.  She explained what had happened to the mother and told her of the appointment she had made.  The mother promised to drive her daughter there tomorrow.  Sarah left them some literature to read about rape survival.  She left knowing she had done all that she could, but that it would never be enough.  She also knew that as she was assigned more cases, that she might never get to spend as much time with another victim as she had with this woman.  Now she truly understood Fox's reaction when he was writing his report.  
	She called Fox that night and told him about her day.  He listened quietly and patiently.  "You did a wonderful job," he said very softly.  "Her recovery will be easier because of what you did today."
	"I know, it's just..."
	"What did you say about feeling responsible for every person that crosses your path.  It is the hardest thing to learn.  I've been doing this stuff for years and I still haven't learned it.  It does get easier though."
	"Thanks for listening."
	"I told you I would always be here to listen.  I want you to have my cellular number in case you need it.  That way, even if I'm out of town, you can always reach me."  He gave her the number.  "Do you want me to come over?  You sound like you could use a hug."
	"No," she sighed.  "It's late and I just want to soak in a hot bath and then curl up in bed with some mindless fiction.  Thank you for listening...talking about it helped."
	"Night.  Call if you have any trouble sleeping, okay?"
	"Yeah," she said unconvincingly.
	"I mean it," his tone was serious.  "Call if you need me."
	"I will.  I promise-- and thanks again."  She hung the phone up and started the bath water.   After a long bath and a few chapters of a mind-numbingly bad book, she fell asleep.  It was a fitful sleep full of nightmares about her step-father.  She jerked awake and put all thoughts of  'him' out of her mind.  Instead, she filled her mind with thoughts of Fox--how sweet, tender, yet passionate he was with her.  How he had washed the touch of her step-father off of her body.  She soon drifted off to sleep and this time had much happier dreams.

	The next day, Sarah turned in her report on the woman she had helped yesterday and found 5 new cases in her in basket.  She had called to make sure that she had gone to her appointment and was happy to find out that she had.  As she was opening up her second case file, she got a call.  The dispatcher had gotten a call from the field about a woman who was refusing to go to the hospital so that they could take care of her wounds.  She wrote down the address and ran out the door.  She arrived at a rather large office building about 20 minutes later.  It was mainly unoccupied at the time because they were removing asbestos insulation from sections of the building.  She reported to the officer on the scene and started trying to calm the woman down.  The woman had been strangled and raped.  She kept telling Sarah and officer Michaels to back off--that she didn't know what they were doing here.  She said that she had not called the police and had no intention of facing 'that madman' in court.  It all sounded somehow familiar.  Sarah was puzzling all this over when she heard someone open the door.    She turned around just as the lady screamed, "Oh my god that's him!"  Instantly, Sarah knew that this was Walker.  Officer Michaels went for his gun, but Walker already had his gun drawn.  He yelled at Michaels to drop his gun, but Michaels refused.  He was positioned between Walker and the women and thought that he had a chance to take the guy down.  Walker tried to shoot the gun out of the officer's hand, but he was a horrible shot.  The bullet seared through Michaels shoulder and Michaels fell to the ground.
	"Shit, shit you idiot," Walker was yelling.  He looked down at Michaels.  This upset all of his plans.  What would he do if the guy died?  He heard approaching sirens.  Why did he place the hostage call early this time?  There was no way he could get Michaels out of the room without risking exposing himself.  'Okay,' he told himself, I will just have to continue as if this didn't happen.'
	Sarah watched Walker closely.  She saw the absolute terror in Walker's face as he looked at Michaels.  If Fox's profile was true, Michaels had better stay alive--if not she didn't foresee getting out of this situation alive herself.  'Hey, not a bad second day on the job.'
	Walker strolled over to a phone on the only desk in the room.  He put it on 'speaker' and dialed the lobby.  Someone answered.  "Hey, Mr. Policeman.  I got me three hostages down here--what are you going to do about it?  Let me tell you though, one false move on your part and I'll kill them all."
	"Okay," came a calm voice from the other end of the line.  "Can you tell me exactly what the situation is down there?  Is anyone hurt?  I promise we will keep our distance."
	"You better, or I'll kill all three of them.  I've already shot one--the cop.  I won't hesitate to shoot the others."  Walker sounded like he was enjoying himself.  He told Sarah and the woman to sit down and pointed to some chairs.  Sarah did as she was told after trying to help the hysterical woman to do the same.  He tied them back to back--to the chairs and to each other.
	"You said you shot one person--an officer.  What is his name and can you tell me the status of the other two people?" came the voice over the speaker.
	"Of course," bemusement crept into Walker's voice.  "How rude of me.  Well the officer's badge says Michaels and I'll let the other two people introduce themselves.  You," he said pointing to the woman, "stop crying and tell the nice officer your name."
	She started screaming.  Walker backhanded her and yelled, "I said, tell the nice officer your name."
	She gasped in pain and finally said, "M,Mary, my name is Mary."
	"Good little girl."  He patted her head.  "Sorry I was so rough--I just can't stand rude people.  Okay," he said walking around to face Sarah, "tell the nice officer your name."
	Very calmly she said, "Sarah.  Why don't you tell us your name Walker."
	His face filled with rage.  "How do you know my name?  What's going on here?  Who the hell are you?"  His face was inches away from Sarah and he had a painful grip on her shoulders.
	She just imaged that he was her father and let all of her emotion bleed away.  "I told you my name was Sarah.  And you seem to be the one holding all the cards when it comes to what's going on here."  Her voice was eerily calm--even to her own ears.
	He back-handed her with the gun still in his hand.  She did her best not to let her expression change.  Just then Michaels groaned and shuddered.  Walker went over to him, but he was afraid to get too close.  What if death leapt out of this guy and into him?  After staring at him for a second, Walker decided that he was dead.  Then he went totally ballistic.

	Mulder got the call late in the afternoon.  "What?"  Scully heard him say.  "Okay, I want total blue prints of the building ready when I get there.  Station people at every  exit and that includes air vents and any chimneys.  Yes I know that sounds nuts, but I've dealt with this guy before--why do you think your call was referred to me?  Just do as I say.  I'll be there as fast as I can."
	As soon as he hung up the phone, Scully said "Walker?"
	"Yep," Mulder said on his way out of the door.  "He escaped late last night and he's got three hostages here in the city."
	"Here?  Doesn't he usually work in the south?"  Scully said as she struggled to keep up with his long strides.
	"Yes, I think he wants to embarrass me on my own turf," Mulder said through his clenched jaw.

	They pulled up outside the building, flashed their badges and went inside.  Lieutenant Bridges walked up to them and said he was the officer in charge.  Mulder asked if the blue prints were here yet and Bridges said no, but that they would be here soon.  He said that Walker was in a basement office and that they were talking to him through a phone in the lobby.  Mulder said that it was imperative that the plans get here and soon.  He explained Walker's MO to the cop.  "I don't think he will kill any of the hostages, but he will try to escape.  We need to find every possible and impossible avenue of escape and block them off.  I don't care if we have to call in every off duty cop in the city."
	"But Agent Mulder, we think he has already killed someone.  We think he shot and killed the officer who answered the rape call--officer Michaels.  At least that's what we could make out from his hysterical rantings a while ago."
	Mulder took a deep breath, clenched his jaw, and then let the breath out.  "Then we have an even bigger problem lieutenant.  I have no idea what he will do next.  You said he had three hostages.  One is the dead officer; I'm assuming another is the rape victim..."
	"Correct," interrupted the lieutenant.  "Her name is Mary.  The third is the victim's advocate that they called out to the scene to help Mary."  He looked at his notes, "Her name is..."
	Mulder closed his eyes, "Let me guess, her name is Sarah Reiser."  He heard Scully's gasp.
	"Yes," said the lieutenant.  "But how did you know?"
	"Just a lucky guess."

	Sarah watched Walker throw a hysterical fit.  Her mind was racing--trying to figure out what she should do.  She tried to loosen the rope, but made no progress.  Not that she would know what to do if she had managed to get them loose, but it all the guys on tv tried that first--seemed like an idea.  She could hear Mary sobbing, but she wouldn't answer Sarah's questions.  Sarah figured that she was totally hysterical and  she really couldn't blame the woman.  Walker was quieting down.  What should she do?
	She heard a very familiar voice over the speakerphone.  Even thought she knew it was inevitable, she had been dreading this moment.  It would be hard to keep her emotions at bay if she had to keep hearing his voice.
	"Walker, this is your pal, Agent Mulder.  Can you tell me what's going on up there?"
	"Hah, I knew you'd show up!  Come on Mulder, you know the story by now," the hysteria had all but left his voice--he was having fun again.
	"What are you going to use this time?  Air vent?  Didn't see any chimneys when I drove up."  Mulder tried to sound calm--even slightly amused.  He knew that this attitude unnerved Walker more than any other.  Just the idea that he was being taken lightly ticked him off.  The madder he was; the more likely he would make a mistake.  The guy had a methodical mind, but it was often disrupted by emotions.  Mulder had to toy with those emotions just enough to disrupt Walker's thoughts, but not enough to push him over the edge.  After all, he had to worry about the two hostages--Sarah--no he told himself, the two hostages. 
	"Ah Mulder, if I told you that, it wouldn't be much of a game now would it?"
	"I guess you're right, but it never is much of a game when I play with you.  You're just no match for me I'm afraid."
	"You didn't think that in Memphis or in Atlanta," anger crept into Walker's voice.
	"Maybe not, but I've got you all figured out now.  How are your hostages Walker?  Can I talk to Mary?"  He couldn't bring himself to ask for Sarah.  
	Scully was eyeing him.  "Mulder, are you sure you should be handling..." 
	He cut her whisper off with a deadly look.  "I know this guy," he whispered.  "I know what makes him tick.  I'm the best chance the hostages have."  Scully nodded, but still watched him carefully.
	"Umm, Mary seems to be too upset to talk to you Mulder.  She seems to have some objection to being tied up.  I don't think her mind is all here if you know what I mean," Walker snorted.  "I will let this other lovely talk to you though."  He looked at Sarah.  "Go ahead and tell the man how you are."
	Sarah thought about the exchange between Walker and Mulder before she replied.  "I'm having the time of my life Agent Mulder.  I wish I had known about this game a long time ago."  
	Walker whirled around and glared at her.  "Shut up bitch.  Or you will regret it."  Sarah just kept a bemused look on her face.  "I mean it," he said as he backhanded her again.  Again, she tried to keep her face free of fear or anger.  She wasn't sure how far she should push him, but she knew that the attitude Mulder had adopted agitated the man.
	"Careful," said Mulder.  "This is a game Walker and I like to play alone."  She took the hint and said nothing else.

	The blueprints arrived.  Mulder and Scully looked them over.  "Look," said Scully.  "What are all of these marking in the basement?  Don't those represent doors?  Why would you have doors on an outside basement wall?"
	"Of course," enthused Mulder.  "This used to be a federal office building.  There are all sorts of underground tunnels connecting the old federal buildings built during the '50s--cold war hysteria.  That's his plan.  Lieutenant, get men on all of these entrances."
	"Yes sir.  Should I take men away from the air vents?"
	"No, I don't want to take any chances.  This guy is too good and since he has killed a cop, he is also desperate."  He looked at Scully, "Now we all we have to do is decide just how long to let Walker play his little game."

	Walker was pacing.  It was getting on Sarah's nerves.  She tried to calm herself again.  She looked around the room for possible exits other than the main door.  If she could somehow communicate Walker's possible escape paths to Mulder...
	
	Mulder had an idea.  "Bridges, we need to move this phone down into the basement hallway.  Close enough to act quickly when Walker makes his move, far enough away that he can't hear us through the door."
	"I'll get some extra phone wire."
	They worked to run the wire down to the basement.  Every time they turned of the speaker receiver on their end, Walker through a fit.  He could feel that they were up to something and it had him nervous and excited at the same time. 
	Mulder stood next to the phone as he looked down the hallway at the door to the office.  "You've been quiet Walker.  You are still there aren't you?"
	"Yeah, but not for much longer G-man.  It's time for the game to get really fun," he was grinning.  "But you know, seeings how things are a little different this time, I may need to take some insurance with me."
	'That's it,' Mulder thought.  'He's not going easily this time.'  He drew his gun and looked at Scully.  She followed his move as did the other officers.  "We've got to get in there before he gets one of the hostages untied and can use them as a shield." He whispered into Scully's ear.  She nodded and followed him down the hall.  
	
	Walker was looking at Mary and Sarah.  "Eennie, meenie, miinie moe, which one of you with me will go?"  Just then Mulder burst through the door.  His gun immediately trained on Walker.  Walker put his gun to Sarah's head.  "Your making a big mistake Mulder.  You're not playing by the rules."
	Mulder nodded for Scully to check out Michaels.  "Neither are you Walker.  Since when do you kill?"
	"Stay away from him or I'll shoot her," Walker yelled.
	"Why does it matter?  If he's already dead, why does it matter if Agent Scully looks at him or not?  And what if he's not dead?  That would mean you still haven't killed yet and none of this needs to happen."  He nodded at Scully again and she continued toward Michaels--her eyes on Walker the whole way.
	"I don't know what your blabbering about Mulder.  The cop is dead, I watched him die."
	"Did you did you really?  Did you get right up into his face and watch him die?  Did you see the look on his face when he died?  Did you get close enough for death to reach out and grab you?  Or were you afraid to get that close?  Did you just assume that he was dead?"  He spoke in a slow, menacing monotone.
	Walker's hand was starting to shake.  He kept yelling at Mulder to shut up.  Sarah was looking at his finger on the trigger out of the corner of her eye.  She didn't look at Mulder--didn't want to break his concentration.
	"What if he's not dead Walker?  Do you want to go to the electric chair over this bitch?  Is she worth having them lead you down that hallway--no escaping there.  Is she worth being strapped into that chair so tight that you can't move?  I she worth having that black bag put over your head so that you can't breath while you sit there and wait for them to throw that switch?  Waiting and waiting--totally at their mercy."
	"I said shut up!"  Walker was almost hysterical.  Just then a moan came from Michaels.  Walker spun around and Mulder shot him in the knee.  When Walker dropped, he ran over and cuffed Walker before he could recover from the shock of having been shot.  
	"Sit on him!"  Mulder yelled at one of the uniformed officers.  "And read him his rights."
	Mulder ran over to Sarah and took her face into his hands.  "Are you okay?  Did he hurt you?"
	"I'm fine," she sighed.  "But please untie me, I, I need to throw up--and get someone to help Mary she's in shock."  Her speach was slightly slurred.
	He untied her and helped her walk into a corner to retch.  She was fine the first two steps, but then she started to shake like a leaf.  He supported her and held on while she cleared out her stomach.  She heard Scully's voice.  "Mary's not the only one in shock."  She helped Mulder get Sarah to her feet.  "We need to get you to the hospital too."
	"I'm okay," she said weakly--trying to convince herself that it was true.  Mulder sat her down on a chair.  Scully looked her over and said that she was definitely in shock.  They would need to get her some medical help.  She was also worried about Sarah's jaw--it was quite swollen.  Scully touched Sarah's jaw, "Does this hurt?"
	Sarah gasped.  She looked around, "Is Walker still here?"
	"No," said Mulder.
	"Good, I was afraid you'd kill him if you knew, but I think my jaw is broken."  
	She saw the rage in Mulder's eyes, btu he spoke in a very controlled manner.  "You're right, it's a good thing you waited.  C'mon Scully, let's get her to the hospital."
	"Mulder," Scully said softly.  "You have a suspect to process.  You're the primary on this case.  Don't worry, I'll take care of her."
	"I'm not leaving her," he said through clenched teeth.
	"Oh, yes you will," Sarah said painfully.  "I want him processed by every rule in the book.  He is not getting off on a technicality."
	Mulder looked at her and knew what she said was true.
	"Be an FBI agent just a little longer Fox, you can be a boyfriend again when you bring me flowers in the hospital"
	He pressed his lips together and resigned himself to her logic.  "Okay, I'll do my job ma'am."  He kissed her on the forehead and left.
	Scully took out her cellular phone and placed a call.  "Yeah, hello.  This is Agent Scully.  Agent Mulder is bringing in a perp and I do not at anytime want him left alone with said perp .  Do you understand?  Good."  She put the phone back in her coat pocket.
	Sarah looked at her.  "You don't think he'd..."
	"I don't know.  All I know is that I've never seen Mulder so full of rage before before.  I thought he was going to loose it when he saw Walker put that gun to your head.  Thank god he handled it as well as he did and just aimed at Walker's knee.  I know that I would have been tempted to blow Walker's head off ."
	"I'm pretty happy with the way it came out yoo," she started to smile, but gasped in pain instead.
	"Shock is a natural pain killer, but your body's coming out of shock now.  Let's get you to the hospital so we can give you all sorts of fun pain killers," Scully tried to smile through her concern.  Sarah could just manage a grunt of approval.

	Later, her jaw wired shut, she sat in her hospital room refusing to take a pain killer as the local anesthetic wore off.  But it hurt so much to talk that she was finding it hard to explain why.  Scully, who was keeping her promise to Mulder to look after Sarah, was exasperated.  
	"Why won't you let me get the Nurse so that we can get you some releif from that pain?"
	Sarah kept motioning for a pen and paper.  Just as Mulder walked into the room, he heard Scully say, "Listen, you don't need a pen and paper, you need pain killers.  I can tell that your jaw is killing you."  Sarah just pointed at Mulder and grunted.
	"She probably shouldn't take a lot of pain killers Scully," Mulder said quietly.  "She used to be a Heroin addict and I think she fears the possibility of developing another addition."
	Sarah fell back into the bed and grunted a thank you at Mulder.  Scully looked shocked but didn't say anything else.  Mulder walked over to the bed and kissed Sarah's forehead.  "You hanging in there?"
	She nodded.  "Are thosh for me?" she pointed to the flowers in his hand.  They were beautiful.  
	He just nodded.  "I think that there are better than the last ones I gave you."
	She laughed and instantly regretted it.  The pain her jaw was getting worse by the second.  She made a motion like she was writing something.  Mulder pulled out a note book and pen after handing the flowers to Scully (who instantly busied herself with arranging them--trying stay as far away from the bed as possible).  She wrote: "Is he in jail?"
	"Yes,  and he will be for a long time this time.  They have got two guards outside his door and he is handcuffed to his bed...just don't tell the human rights people."
	She wrote: "How are Michaels and Mary?"
	He turned to Scully and asked her.  Scully came out of the corner and said, "They are going to be fine.  Mary's physical injuries were minor.  The bullet went through Michaels' shoulder and lodged in his shoulder blade.  It pierced his lung, so he is in serious condition, but his prognosis is good."
	Sarah wrote: "It's a good thing he decided to moan just at the right time."
	Scully smiled.  "Well most unconscious people can still manage a moan when kicked hard enough."
	"Scully you didn't," Mulder was shocked.  "You kicked an injured man?"
	"You needed a distraction.  You're whole argument was that Michaels was still alive so there was no need to kill Sarah.  I saw that Michaels was indeed still alive and thought it would be most convincing if he did his own talking," Scully said matter-of-factly.  As if kicking an injured, possibly dying man was the most logical thing in the world.
	Mulder was grinning from ear to ear.  He looked at Sarah and back at Scully.  "Well, will wonders never cease.  Doctor Scully breaks the rules to solve a case.  I just may have to report you to the medical board."
	Scully gave him a vicious look.  "Well, I can tell that my strange work methods are not appreciated here--so I think I'll leave."  She smiled at both of them, gathered her things and left.
	Sarah wrote: "What was that about?"
	"Private joke," he replied.  "And right now I don't feel like explaining it because all I want to do is hold you." 
	He got no argument.

THE END

